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caxde · 1 month

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bright eyes | eddie munson x reader

summary you're a new neighbour in the trailer park, on a sunny day Eddie's daughter bumps into you. (4.1k)

warnings fem!reader, girl!dad Eddie!!!!, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn strangers to lovers, idiots in love!!!, , english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read!

a/n: i think i might make this a little series if you guys would like that <3 part 2 part 3

It was warm outside.

Early spring had its advantages, flowers started to bloom, the sun shone brighter and longer, and the rain fell only at night when you had trouble sleeping.

You had just moved here, and you still weren’t sure or knew that much, so you tended to keep to yourself. You’d go to work, to the little shop on main street, back to your little trailer.

You were sitting down on your little kitchen floor, looking at the way your washing machine turned around, waiting for your hair to dry after the shower, so you could sleep with fresh sheets tonight. You enjoyed this sort of calmness, a new found happiness that you weren’t aware you could achieve.

You placed the white sheets on the little laundry basket that you had lying around, cloth pins scattered on its bottom. You held it, against your waist, your left hand grabbing it while you struggled to open the door.

You whispered along the words of a song that was playing from a beat up radio from across the street, taking your time, as you placed every sheet perfectly, enjoying the sun shining on your face. It was all going as well as it could.

“Hi.”

It startled you, not as much as it could, the little voice coming from down below you, it forced you to look down, a little girl looked up at you, half hiding behind your sheets, she was wearing a black faded black sabbath shirt that didn’t belong to her, the seam of it well past her knees, white socks on her feet, her hair was black and curly, half hiding her eyes.

“Oh. Hi.” You smiled at her, the sweetest tone you could fathom came out of your lips. She became shy for a second, as she grabbed one of your clothes pins and handed it to you. “Thank you, buddy.” You smiled as you grabbed it, placing it on top of one of your cushion covers, even if it didn’t need an extra one. “You’ll get your socks dirty.” You point out.

She smiled in a shy manner, covering her face with her hands as she nodded.

“Bug?” She turned around as soon as she heard his voice. Her arms went up, demanding to be held by him. “There you are!” He had a soft and playful tone, as he grabbed her.

You felt stuck there for a second. He was tall, with curly dark hair, strong decorated by tattoos arms that flex when he held her, close to his chest. The same smile she seemed to have was imprinted on his face. It’s not that he is attractive -which he undeniably is- but he seems to shine, in a beautiful light, warmer than the sun.

“I’m sorry if she annoyed you, we were playing hide and seek.” His words come out way too quicker than he had wanted them to, with an apologetic look on his face as he swayed his body, her giggles invading the space between you.

“She didn’t, not at all.” You smiled at him, before looking back at her, she was giggling at you now, and a soft spot was found deep inside your heart. “She was helping me do laundry, actually.” You point out to the extra wood clothespin that she had given you.

“Oh, so you can help the pretty lady and not me?” He jokes as he tickles her belly, the infectious laughter growing louder and stronger as he holds his face closer to hers.

But you don’t really listen, the only thing in your mind right now is his voice calling you pretty.

pretty, pretty, pretty.

Your cheeks become warmer, pinker.

As soon as he notices, he realises what he had said.

He had called you pretty before even introducing himself. He feels like a fool, he meets a pretty girl and is only focused on the one in his arms.

He tries to fix it, a soft grin dedicated to you as a nervous scoff leaves his lips.

You don’t really mind the silence, or the opportunity to look at him, and his dark chocolate eyes, but you have the impulse to tell him your name, and you do, with an upside down smile that passes down to him.

“I’m Eddie.” He says in return, grabbing your hand not thinking much of it, though he didn’t think he’d feel a sort of sparks as soon as your hand met his. To be fair, neither did you. “This little bug is Lua.” He adds, as he lets go of your hand, slowly, so his fingers can tickle her again, making her giggle once more, her tiny hands grabbing his hair in a playful manner.

“Hi Lua.” It’s not that your voice comes out shy, but the high pitched baby voice makes your tone come out with a bit of a treble, as if nervousness that she wouldn’t like you took over. “Thanks for helping me with laundry.” You add, as she hides, pushing her face against Eddie’s chest, the pureness of that gesture makes your smile wider.

If you weren’t so focused on Lua’s reactions, you would have caught Eddie lost into you, as he had never experienced such kindness or softness from someone that wasn’t already close.

He was used to the stares, and the silent judgment from everyone, way before Lua came into his life, and mostly it came from people around his age, or way older. His constant thought behind a string of ‘shut up grandpa’ and ‘go back to your retirement home’ that he never said out loud. The world could be mean, but he would never let her little girl know that. At least not yet.

He wasn’t used to this though.

A kind stranger, around his age, that doesn’t really judge, and interacts in a playful manner with her. It was more than he could fathom.

“‘r welcome.” Lua mumbled as she looked up from her hiding spot for a second, before burying herself back into his arms.

Eddie’s heart felt full for a moment. Lua wasn’t used to strangers, and she didn't really like to talk out loud to people she wasn’t used to. Though these days she was only used to uncle Way and Stevie, or aunt Rob. So seeing her, not only talking back after you told her something, but having seen her approach you out of her own will, it made his mind stop worrying for just a second. Lua’s social ability was just as good as his in that moment.

The thought made him smile to himself.

“We should check if our’s is done.” He mumbled to Lua’s ear as he started swinging his chest again, hugging her tightly as he felt how she was starting to get heavier. “That way you can stop wearing dada’s shirt.” He looked attentive at your face, waiting for your reaction.

He felt better when he didn’t see nothing but a compassionate smile.

Eddie was also used to people thinking he wasn’t the dad, maybe an uncle, maybe an older brother. Eddie was also used to people opening their eyes wide as soon as they hear dad when referred to him.

But you didn’t.

Truth be told, it did shock you a bit. But the little girl was a carbon copy of him. The same wide smile and wild hair. And the world was mean and complicated enough, you didn’t need to make it harder for someone you had just met.

“We’ll see you around?” He asks, with a hopefulness on his voice that you’re not too sure what it means, or what you actually want it to mean.

“Yeah, I moved in a while ago so…” He nodded as he pointed at the little trailer right in front of yours.

“That’s us.”

“Way!” Lua blurted out as she looked back at where she called home, and Eddie couldn’t help but chuckle and give her a kiss on her temple.

“Yes! And uncle Wayne too.” You noticed that his tone is sweeter, calmer and a bit higher when he talks to the little girl on his arms than when he talks to you. “If you ever need anything…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence, the end of it implied, and you’re left nodding, telling him that if they ever need anything you’re here too, waving bye to Lua as she looks over Eddie’s shoulder, her little hand waving back.

You finish hanging your laundry dry, as you think about what just happened.

You had finally made friends that weren’t work related, and one of them was a baby. You sort of chuckle to yourself. It felt stupid, but it also felt good, knowing someone here, and that someone being nice, and kind.

It felt as if you were finally on the right path.

“Bug, please?” Eddie whined for the fourth time, while Lua was still on the higher part of the couch, looking out the window.

She shook her head again, Wednesdays were always the longest days in the Mudson household. Eddie took another big breath, while he looked at his wrist watch once again, afraid he’ll be late if he doesn’t leave soon.

“Okay… You can either stay here with uncle Way, or you can come with dada to the garage. Please?” He bargained, for the last time, begging to some higher power she’ll climb down the sofa.

He could scream out of excitement once she finally did.

“friend?” She asked, in a mumble as she pointed out of the door.

She had been doing that for a while now, ever since Eddie had found Lua in your yard, she kept asking to go see you, for some reason that escaped Eddie’s mind, her little girl seemed to have an infatuation with you.

Eddie sat down on the floor now, and Lua started walking closer to him, he laughed in defeat as she giggled, her little steps approaching him.

“Once I get back from work, deal?”

Eddie held his hand out, waiting for her to shake it as she usually did when she knew she had won whatever she wanted -which happened frequently- but accepted with glee once she tried to hug him, with her usual clumsiness. Her arms not quite reaching the back of his neck until he helped her up.

He enjoyed this little moment.

Holding her close while nothing else was going on. A long day ahead of him that he wasn’t totally ready for, but then again he wasn’t really ready for a lot of things that he ended up being capable of.

Wayne’s steps broke the small intimate moment.

“You made a friend, Lua?” He asked as she giggled at the sight of him, even if he still was half asleep, Wayne always seemed to have more than enough energy for her.

“She did.”

“Who?”

“New girl.” Eddie nodded at the trailer that could be seen through their window.

“Huh.” Wayne had never been a man of many words, but the way his facial expression changed usually left nothing to the imagination. In this case, it was a warning. An overprotective warning.

“She seems nice. Lua approached her.” She smiled, as she always did when she heard her own name. Eddie knew that she liked to be included, no matter what. Maybe that’s why he tried so hard.

“You did?” Wayne’s eyes opened wider, as he squatted down to meet her eye level, she wobbled her way into him, as she giggled once again. She had a secret power, or at least that’s what Eddie thought, to make everyone happy.

“Friend!” She said again, pointing at where she had last seen you.

“Okay bug, see you in a bit?”

“Lo you.” She muttered as she waved bye, Eddie’s heart warmer as he opened the door and blew her a kiss.

“Love you too, bug.” Eddie opened the door, stopping on the frame as he always did, checking his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed with him.

“Kid, if you plan on going over, make sure she’s okay with it. Not a lot of people are.” It was another warning, his left eyebrow raised, his tone sharper. Eddie just nodded.

And before he knew it, he was already on your door, knocking and hoping you’re actually home.

You were, and the nocks on your door wake you up. You had always been a light sleeper. You found your way out of your bed, and you didn’t care if your hair was a bit knotted than usual, messier or that your eyes were still adjusting to the light creeping through your windows. You opened the door and there he was. Tall, handsome Eddie, in his washed up jeans and his white shirt that had some small car grease marks on it. His opened blue short sleeve shirt with the little name tag made you smile internally.

“Sorry.” He muttered, as soon as you made eye contact with him.

He took a second, you stood there, sleep still present on your face and overall demeanor, but what caught his attention -even if he tried not to- were your naked legs, barely covered by an oversized shirt that you evidently used as a sleep shirt. Still, you looked pretty, he thought. He also felt bad that he had woken you up.

“S’kay. Morning.” You half joked as you smiled up at him, your head resting against the door frame, your arms crossed over your chest, the air making you feel a bit colder than you were deep in your sheets.

“Yeah, morning.” He was left speechless. He wasn’t sure why, but all of a sudden he wished he hadn’t knocked. So you could be resting, being face to face with you, he could see the little bags under your eyes, and he imagined how much you were enjoying getting to sleep in.

“You knocked to tell me good morning?” If you hadn’t had a smile on your lips, or your voice wasn’t as sweet and soft as it was, Eddie would have felt even worse. When in reality it made you inexplicably happy that he was the reason you had woken up.

“No, yeah, sorry.” He chuckled in a nervous manner once again. “Uh, Lua has been asking for you, and uh… I’m done at work early today, and if it’s not too weird and if it’s okay we could come for a bit after, don’t worry if you don’t feel like it i-”

“I’d love that.” You cut his nervous and anxious rambling off. “I’m free today, so I can go pick up some things for her?”

Eddie relaxed, his shoulders dropping and his smile finally appearing.

While you had to try hard to hide your excitement.

“You don’t have to…”

“Shut up. She deserves it.”

Even if you weren’t aware of it, that was the best thing you could have said to him. But truth be told, you were actually excited, you had been thinking about him, and the promise of a new friendship since you had met him, so this? It felt like the perfect excuse.

“What time were you thinking?”

“Uh, I dunno, my shift ends at around six, so maybe…”

“I’ll have snacks ready by six then, don’t worry.”

He was way more thankful than he could express, but he tried his best anyway.

“Thank you princess, it means a lot. Truly.” That nickname rang in your ears for a while, the same way it did when he had called you pretty. It was made obvious that you had liked it by the way you were starting to blush.

“Don’t worry Edds.” You stayed just like you were for a second longer. Looking at him, and the way his dimples were showing when he smiled as wide as he did, and a spark in his eyes he seemed to reserve for you. “Hope you have a good day at work.”

He was the one blushing now, and the one he was left with the way you had called him Edds, the sound of your voice present on his ears for a while after he had started driving. It wasn’t until he arrived at the garage, when he realised he was smiling at nothing, like an idiot.

You might have gone a bit overboard.

You had gone into town, and before you knew it your fridge was now filled with various juices and milk. The good ones that you usually didn’t buy for yourself. You had thought about baking a cake, but you ended up deciding that that felt too much as a birthday type of treat, so you went for your comfort recipe.

The cookie dough was already done, and you were chopping up the chocolate bar into smaller bits. You hated dark chocolate, so milky sweet one was the only acceptable one.

Morrisey’s voice kept you company as you mutter along the lyrics.

You looked over your little home, you had cleaned, deeply. Afraid that Eddie would judge you, or that Lua would somehow hurt herself or something could happen to her. You tend to do that, over worrying about things you can’t really control.

Then again, Eddie was doing the same thing.

A quick shower, fresh clothes, and hair almost dry. Lua looked up at him with excitement, as he tried to find something else for her to wear. She had a tendency to steal his shirts when he wasn’t there, in an attempt to be close to him, or at least that’s what he thought. So the negotiation began.

“Bug, which one?” On his left hand he had a light blue dress that Joyce gave him a few years ago, on his right he had a newer pair of overalls. She stood there, shaking her head as she hugged the shirt she was already wearing. “You need to get dressed if you want to go see your new friend, bug.” He couldn’t help but chuckle, as soon as she realised they were going to see you, she pointed at the overalls and had no issue getting ready.

Thank god for you, he thought. It had never been that easy, normally Lua hated changing clothes, especially when she was already comfortable. But this time, she didn’t only do it, she helped, and was excited to.

Lua wasted no time, her hands hitting your door as hard as she could, which resulted in soft knocks you still heard.

“Hi.” She beamed up at you, holding her arms open for you, her voice higher than you remembered. It might be her childish excitement, or at least that’s what you think.

“Hi Lua.” You met her level of excitement as you squatted down so you could meet her, her arms trying to hug you, waiting for you to help her get up so she could do it. Used to this type of hug with her dad.

Speaking of, Eddie was speechless. Mainly because Lua doesn’t really hug people that are not him, or Wayne. Steve maybe had gotten two or three hugs, she usually blew kisses. Also he wasn’t sure if you actually wanted them there, or were just being nice, but that doubt went away as soon as he heard your voice, and saw the way you smiled at her.

He also was pretty sure that he could smell cookie dough.

Lua found her way in, passing you by as you greeted Eddie. She didn’t have time to waste, her curiosity always winning. In her defense, your house was full of colour, and she wasn’t used to it. Every pillow was a different colour, and they were everywhere. Your couch was green, which she didn’t even know that was a possibility. Your walls had photos, and posters, and drawings. She had so much to look at she was grinning from ear to ear, laughing as she moved around.

Eddie did the same, in a more discrete manner. He found his way in the middle of your living room, he looked at the stacked shelves, they were full to the brim, various fantasy books that he recognised -mainly because he had already read them- cassette tapes and vinyls also shared a big portion of space. He smiled to himself everytime he knew a group that you seemed to like. Your vhs collection also caught his eye. You, on the other hand, were left there, holding your hands in an anxious manner, not too sure what to do now. Seeing how father and daughter act the same in different ways.

“You’re listening to the Smiths?” He asked, once he caught on to what was playing.

“Oh, yeah, I’ll uh… turn it off.” You became embarrassed, knowing that probably he didn’t like that type of music, or maybe it was too loud. Eddie smiled, shaking his head no.

“No, it’s fine. Lua likes them, that’s all.” You looked down at her, and relaxed once you saw her dancing along. She was moving up and down, kind of in tune with the music.

The little timer started, letting you know that the cookies were now done.

“Lua, you like cookies?” She didn’t even need to say anything, her eyes opened as she heard the word, she walked next to you, Eddie following closely.

He grabbed her up, letting her sit down on the counter. He was grateful all the trailers were the same, that way he knew -kinda- where everything was.

“Carefull, bug. It’s hot.”

“Hot.” She repeated, pointing at the baking sheet that you took out, fresh golden chocolate chips came out. “For me?”

“Well, not all of them.” Eddie answered, with an amused tone in her voice that made you chuckle in response.

“We have to wait for them to cool down a bit.” You told her as you placed them on a plate, the tips of your fingers slightly burning.

“Why?” Her eyes opened in wonder, not really following you.

“‘Cause when they’re too warm, they can give you a belly ache.” You explained to her, earnest in your tone, as you touched your own stomach.

“Only five minutes, bug.” Lua turned around, looking at Eddie with a confused look. “You can wait five minutes right?” She looked at him, slowly. You couldn’t help but chuckle, seeing the way they share the same look between them.

You were on the couch.

Eddie didn’t count it as cuddling, not really.

You were just sitting down next to him, his arm brushing yours, as you both looked between the T.V that was playing ‘Arthur and the Stone ’- you had a tendency to collect VHS, and the style and drawings had pulled you to buy it. You didn’t have an excuse until now to watch it, so you were just enjoying it as much as Lua did- and the little one, who was enamored by the story, while she colored in one paper lazily.

Eddie had become a bit too comfortable. His body feeling heavier, warmer, he was on the verge of falling asleep. That same feeling shot sirens on his head. This felt too nice, too normal, too usual. He could get used to this, and that wasn’t good.

He didn’t really know you.

Eddie knew where you lived, how your living room looked, that you worked almost everyday -though he still didn’t know where-, and that you were incredibly nice. And sweet.

Eddie also knew that Lua trusted you, and for now, that was enough.

It was enough that you had taken time out of your day so you could bake them cookies, or buying the expensive juice that you had taken them in as if they had always belonged there.

Lua giggled and Eddie’s eyes opened, seeing how she was pointing at the T.V when the boy turned into a squirrel, and the way she looked up at you, wanting to see your reaction. He was happy, more than he had been in a while.

You were sinking deeper into the cushions. Deeper into him and this familiarity. You could get used to this, but you weren’t unsure if you should. You enjoyed spending time with them, and this was fun, but then again, it was scary. It scared you, the thought of it going wrong, or you doing something you weren’t supposed to, it was a bit too much.

While you were sitting down there, with him that close, his smell lingering in the air, his warmness by your side, the risk of this crush evolving into something else was too much.

You didn’t care. Not at all.

Neither did Eddie. Not even a little bit.

part 2 is up!

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moonstruckme · 4 months

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A Christmas Special

summary: after Christmas Eve at Remus' flat, thick snowfall prevents you from going home. He's more than happy to host you

cw: mentions of alcohol, smut mdni, p in v, oral (fem receiving), praise, inexperienced reader, shy little idiots in love

Remus Lupin x fem!reader ♡ 11k words

Remus isn’t sure entirely how he’d gotten strongarmed into hosting Christmas Eve at his flat. James and Lily usually host, but James claimed that this year their house was in too much a state of “baby mayhem” to have any hope of being tidied enough for a gathering. He’s said it in such a lovesick voice Remus couldn’t push back for long, his friend’s happiness so potent it was like looking into the sun. Sirius had begged off quickly, saying that his “bachelor pad” was too small to have a group over. As usual, when Remus spoke last, the matter was settled before he’d gotten the chance to have much of a say.

He’s made an effort to live up to the hosting legacy passed onto him by the Potters, but it’s a flimsy attempt at best. Thankfully, the snowfall outside is doing a fair amount of the work for him. Remus’ street is coated in fresh, gleaming powder, enough that the trees look weighted down with it and his neighbor had put her little dog in a knit sweater to go into the yard and do its business. It’s still coming down, the snowflakes visible in crisp contrast against the darkening sky as they drift lazily to the earth.

Inside Remus’ home, the Christmas tree is nearly covered in tinsel to make up for his scant supply of ornaments, he’s run out of stockings to put up above the fireplace and has had to use one large sock (that one will have to be for Sirius), and he’s still stringing up popcorn when a knock sounds on the door.

Remus is surprised (he’d told everyone to come at six, but that was only because he didn’t think anyone would actually show up until a couple hours after), but that dies away when he unbolts the door and opens it to find you on the other side.

“Hi,” you say, teeth nearly chattering as Remus ushers you inside. “Sorry I’m late, traffic was worse than I expected.”

“It’s hardly fifteen after six.” Remus takes your coat, tsking. “People do seem to become worse drivers around the holidays, don’t they?”

“Well, I suppose not everyone on the road tonight might be used to driving in the snow,” you allow, ever forgiving.

Remus smiles. “Merry Christmas, love.”

Your face is already flushed from the chill outside, but he could swear it goes pinker as you unwrap your scarf, smiling back at him. “Merry Christmas.” You’re merry as can be, cheeks dimpling and eyes sparkling under the twinkling lights Remus is suddenly very glad he decided to purchase for the occasion. “Where is everyone?”

“Well,” Remus says, heading back for the couch, “Sirius is hitching a ride with James and Lily, so if I had to guess I’d wager that James is just putting the finishing touches whatever food he’s decided to bring while Lily tries to rush him out the door. And then they’ll go to Sirius’ place and have to wait for him to finish wrapping the presents he undoubtedly just remembered today.”

You sit beside him with a half-exasperated laugh. “I was thinking I’d be the last one here,” you admit, “but I’d forgotten how they can be when it comes to events.”

Remus shrugs. “Easy to forget.” Lily is usually able to marshal James and Sirius most places on time these days, but the frenzy when they actually have things to prepare is inevitable; Remus has learnt to account for it. He reclaims his half-finished string of popcorn, clumsily stabbing the needle into another kernel and wincing when it goes through easier than expected, pricking his finger.

“Oh no, did you hurt yourself?” you lean over, trying to see his hand.

“No, just a scratch.” Remus has about a billion of them by now. He’s far from coordinated on a good day, but the unwise decision to have coffee earlier has resulted in shaky hands that make working with a needle somewhat hazardous.

You watch him try again, and it’s really the distraction of your cute frown more than anything else that messes him up. His needle goes through the fluffy edge of the popcorn, stabbing him and giving the string hardly anything to hold onto in the process. The flake falls to his lap for his efforts.

“Remus, your hand’s not a pincushion,” you say, and you weren’t yourself he’d almost think you were chiding him. You reach over, taking the needle and thread from him. “Here, let me do that.”

“I didn’t mean for you to come here early so I could put you to work,” Remus protests, watching as you string up the next piece of popcorn with nimble fingers. Jealousy wars with admiration, but his esteem for you wins out. “You’ll never come back for New Year’s if this is what you have to look forward to.”

You smile down at your hands. “Sure I will. You’ll still be there, won’t you? And I really don’t mind helping, it gives me something to do.”

Remus smiles back even though you’re not looking. “Alright, well I guess that means I can start rolling out the gingerbread dough. Thanks, love.” He touches his hand lightly to the crown of your head as he stands, letting the urge to press a kiss there pass as quickly as it arises. He goes into the kitchen and a second later you decide to follow. Popcorn swishes against the floor behind you as you make your way over to the bar counter, sitting on a stool with the string trailing all the way back to the couch.

“You’re making gingerbread cookies?” you ask, watching with eager eyes as he plops the dough onto the floured counter, rolling it flat.

“Mhm. You like them?”

“Never had one.”

Remus feels his eyebrows inch upwards. “Seriously?”

You look almost sheepish, as though this is a crime which you expect to be held against you. Honestly, you’re not far off; had James been here, you would have been questioned and scolded to hell and back, and then he would’ve made Remus give you some dough to try, salmonella be damned.

“No,” you answer him. “We made ornaments of them in school, once, but we weren’t allowed to eat them. I always thought they were so cute, though, with the little people cutouts.”

“They’re the best,” Remus agrees, pressing out the shapes and laying them on the baking sheet. “If you finish that quickly enough, I might even let you help me cut out a few.”

“Yes!” you cheer, and he laughs as you start working quicker with the needle.

“Don’t hurt yourself. The privilege of cookie cutting is not actually contingent on your labor.”

“I know,” you say, but your hands don’t slow. Remus has barely finished filling his second baking sheet before you’re done, having made more progress in the last twenty minutes than he had over nearly an hour.

Remus’ hip touches yours as he shows you how to give the cookie cutters a little shake in the dough, freeing the shape before lifting it and placing it on the sheet. It’s not a painfully difficult task, and still he’s impressed by how quickly you catch on. You’re a machine of efficiency. You seem to enjoy rolling out the dough almost as much as pressing out the shapes, falling into a quick, happy rhythm. Before long you’ve pushed Remus out of the way (Lily would be proud, he thinks), urging him to go and hang up the popcorn garland before everyone else arrives.

You haven’t seen each other in over a month, both of you caught up in the hustle and bustle of the season, and you catch up as you work on your separate tasks. Remus talks to you about his job, the students who plague him and the ones he wishes he could take home after work each day, and how none of them had liked the film he’d put on the day before break. (“Mister Magoo’s is a classic!” you protest as Remus shakes his head. “They’re too young to get it,” he says. “Our classics are just old to them.”) You tell him about your new cat, and the sweater you’d crocheted her for the holiday which she despises above all else, and he promises to come over sometime soon to meet her.

You’ve poured yourselves spiked eggnog and sampled a few ginger cookies (“They’re twice as good when they’re fresh,” Remus says. “Don’t let the others’ tardiness rob you of the experience.”) by the time the door bursts open again, Sirius of course not bothering to knock.

“Hello!” he calls from somewhere behind a tower of presents. “Merry holiday to you, Moony!”

You get up to help, and so Remus is compelled to do so as well, taking a couple sloppily-wrapped boxes from Sirius’ arms.

“Merlin, it smells good in here,” James declares as he comes through the door, Lily carrying a beaming baby Harry on her hip behind him. James’ eyes fall on you. “Aw, you beat us here?”

Remus scoffs, setting down the gifts by the tree and leaving you to arrange them as you see fit. “Not a very difficult task, when you’re over an hour late,” he says. “You’re lucky Y/N’s good company, or I’d be more cross with you.”

“Sorry,” Lily says as Sirius makes a dismissive sound, flopping onto the couch. “We had some trouble fitting everything in the car with Harry’s seat, and then Sirius—” she shoots him a glare, and he grins like she’s sweetly cooed his name “—wouldn’t leave without his hat, even though he’d lost it.”

“One only gets to wear one’s elf hat every so often,” Sirius justifies, unperturbed. “I wasn’t going to miss the occasion even if it took me all night to find it.”

“It nearly did,” Lily shoots back, but then James is at her side, having discarded his load of food and presents and now vying to hold Harry.

“Come here, my handsome little guy.”

“Used to call me that,” Sirius quips with his mouth full of gingerbread cookies, a heaping plate seeming to have found its way into his lap.

Remus isn’t going to smile at that poor attempt at a joke, but once you laugh he can’t help it.

“Only on special occasions,” James replies, taking Harry under the arms and hoisting him into the air. Harry laughs, and it’s probably the most contagious thing Remus has ever heard. Everyone smiles; James most of all, grinning ear to ear as he does it again.

“He never lets me hold him,” Lily complains fondly.

“Because I know how much you like seeing me with him,” James says breezily, making a face at Harry above him. “You’re mad with lust right now, Evans, don’t try to deny it.”

“Sleaze,” Sirius says to him, the bell on his hat jingling when he tilts his head.

“I know you are, but what am I?”

“I,” Remus says, “am hungry. And I’ll bet Y/N is too, since she’s very politely refrained from snacking much while we waited for you lot.”

James' attention actually leaves his son for half a second to look at you and see if what Remus says is true, and you go instantly bashful. It doesn’t seem to matter how long you’re friends with them; having attention drawn to you will always bring some color to your cheeks. Lily comes to your rescue, ushering you into the kitchen like she needs somewhere to channel her mother hen urges while James is monopolizing Harry.

“I hope you really are hungry,” she says, “because James has made enough bhaji to feed us all for a month.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Soon even James is stuffed and you’re all a bit tipsy on eggnog. Some of your natural anxiety fades as everything starts to feel slower and more fluid, your insides warm and soft as wax.

“No, because it was so obvious,” Sirius says. He’s telling a story of a girl he’d seen at a coffee shop that he’s sure was enamored with him. James, naturally, agrees completely, but Lily and Remus aren’t so sure. “She did the—the thing. Y/N, back me up. When a girl makes eye contact with you and then looks off to the side, it means she’s not interested, but when she looks down, it’s because she’s nervous, right?”

You raise your eyebrows. “I think you made that up,” you tell him, tiny bits of laughter running in between your words. “Anyway, is her being nervous necessarily a good thing?”

“She was nervous because she’s obsessed with me,” Sirius insists.

“Or,” Remus says, “she was nervous because you were staring at her, and she thought you were going to follow her outside.”

“And probably kill her,” Lily agrees.

James’ eyebrows shoot up. “Merlin, you two are dark. Our Padfoot’s not putting out murderous vibes. He’s got too much boyish charm.”

Sirius nods appreciatively, but Lily only shrugs, careful not to jostle Harry where he’s sleeping on her lap. “Girls have to think of those things.”

“Gross,” James says, looking slightly troubled as he kisses the side of his wife’s head. “Well, I think she was in love with you, Pads.”

“Yeah,” Remus rolls his eyes, “he should show up at her house and find out. It’d be romantic.”

“And on that note,” James goes on, ignoring him, “shall we do presents?”

You all agree, and Sirius looks at James with an older brother’s entitlement. “Go ahead and distribute them, Prongsie.”

James, well used to this, doesn’t even question it, scampering back and forth between the tree (which you can’t help but notice is somewhat lacking in the ornament department but quite sparkly) to deliver your presents at your feet. After a few rounds of this, you can’t stand it anymore and get up to help, laughing through the protests of your remaining three friends. (“He’s got it, love,” Remus says, and Sirius adds, “He’s got energy he needs to run off anyway.”) Between the two of you, the bottom of the Christmas tree is bare within a couple of minutes, small piles of presents next to each of your friends. You go to sit back by the pile meant for you, touched at the fact that you have a box from every person there.

“S’not fair that James and Lily get to do couple’s presents now,” Sirius complains. “I’m going to start buying gifts for you like you’re one person, see how you like it.”

The biggest pile is obviously for Harry, and you all start there, no small amount of eagerness in James’ expression as he tears open the first box. “The Velveteen Rabbit,” he reads aloud. “Wow, this is kinda hefty for a children’s book.”

“Who’s it from?” Lily prompts, as if you don’t all already know.

“Shit, I forgot to check.”

“And that’s why we read the box,” Lily says slowly, and you get the sense this is a conversation that’s happened more than once, “before we start ripping, honey.”

“It was me,” Remus volunteers, lips pulling into a half-smile.

“Course it was,” James says, taking a break from sticking his tongue out at his wife to smile at Remus. “Thanks, Moony.”

“You had the opportunity to get him Goodnight Moon,” Sirius tsks, “and you just let it pass you by.”

Remus rolls his eyes, but then Lily says, “He already has that one,” and you watch as he tries and fails to suppress the shy smile that takes him. It shifts the scars on his cheek and lights his eyes with a warm tenderness.

He looks especially pretty under the Christmas lights, you think. The warm glow suits him, bringing out the amber in his eyes and richening the various brown shades of his hair. It makes his skin look softer too, smooth even where you know he has stubble around his jawline. You want suddenly to reach out and touch it, and you’re glad you’re sitting too far from him to act on the urge.

You’ve noticed Remus over the years, of course. It’d be impossible not to. You’ve always harbored a tiny crush on him, but you keep it shoved deep down in your gut where it can’t hurt anyone. You think the world of him, but you love your little group of friends more than anything else. You’re not unaware of the fact that Remus is a more crucial fixture in it than you are; if anything happened between you and it made things awkward for everyone, you’d be the one to go.

“Aw, is this a hat?” Lily pulls something tawny brown from a box, and you realize they’ve gotten to your gift. “Oh my god, it has little antlers!”

You try not to smile too hard as she shows it to James and he coos, taking it from her hands. “No way, he’ll be like our little Prongsie! I’m going to put it on him.”

“Don’t wake him,” Lily warns, but James waves her off.

“He can sleep through anything,” he says, settling the baby beanie on Harry’s head. Sure enough, he doesn’t stir.

“Oh, that’s so darling.” Lily presses a hand to her chest. “Y/N, where’d you get this?”

You feel your face heat and hope the lighting is covering your blush. “I made it,” you admit. “I know we’re already well into winter, but I hope he can still use it a little.”

“Um, he’s never taking it off. Like, ever.” James leans around Lily to press a smacking kiss to your cheek. You laugh, trying not to shrink in on yourself from all the attention. “Thanks, love.”

Once all the cooing over Harry’s presents is done, the rest of the gift opening proceeds with decidedly less fanfare, though no shortage of gratitude. You get a bunch of purple eyeliners from Sirius (you’d complained to him a few weeks ago that they’d stopped selling your old one, and he’d been thoughtful enough to find you options to help decide upon new one), a cookbook from James and Lily (“Now you can stop eating all those frozen meals,” James tells you with a meaningful look), and a set of mittens from Remus (“They’re alpaca,” he explains. “Supposed to be extra warm, and your hands are always freezing.”). The rest of your gifts are received happily too, and then Remus’ living room is covered with the wrapping paper Lily had tried but eventually given up on getting everyone to put in piles as they went and you’re all starting to yawn.

“Alright,” Lily says after a while, “it’s well past Harry’s bedtime, and ours, and I’m sure Remus would like his flat back.”

“Booo.” Sirius lays back on the couch, letting his head loll over the edge of the armrest. “Domestic life has made you lame, Evans-Potter.”

“Yeah, yeah,” James drawls, gathering Harry against his chest, “I saw you yawning, Pads. Let’s go.”

You stand with the rest of them, going to find your shoes by the door. “Thanks for everything, Remus,” you say. “It was great.”

“For a first time hosting,” James allows, jokingly prideful, “I suppose you did a pretty decent job. Big shoes to fill, and all that.”

Remus smiles as he rolls his eyes, but it falters when his gaze settles on something behind you. “Are you all going to be alright getting home? It looks like it’s really picked up.”

You follow his stare out the window. He’s not wrong. The unusually thick snowfall you’d arrived in has morphed into something that looks more like a blizzard, the wind whipping white across the black backdrop of sky outside Remus’ flat.

James looks between the scene outside and his family once before seeming to make a decision. “Yeah, we’ll be alright,” he says, watching Lily as he talks. She nods her approval, and James’ voice becomes more solid. “We don’t have far to drive.”

Remus nods, still looking worried. His brows furrow as he turns to you. “What about you? Are you gonna be okay?”

“Yeah.” It’s the only answer in these situations, though you’re sure Remus would be alright with the alternative if you felt very strongly. “It doesn’t look too bad out there.”

Remus casts another dubious glance out the window, and a particularly loud gust of wind whooshes past as if to spite you. “Are you sure? It looks pretty bad to me.”

“Yeah,” James says, “don’t you live a bit far?”

“It’s not that far,” you fib, at the same time as Remus says, “She does.”

You laugh awkwardly, pulling on your coat “It’s not. Anyway, I’ve driven in a lot worse than this.”

Lily gives you a small smile. “That’s hardly reassuring, babe.”

“You can stay here,” Remus offers, but you’re shaking your head before he’s even gotten the words out.

“That’s sweet of you, but I can make it home.” You give him your most competent smile. “If I end up driving off the road and have to camp in my car, at least I’ll have fantastic mittens to keep the frostbite from my hands.”

He gives you a deadpan look. “While I’m glad you’re excited to use my gift, I’d prefer to keep it from coming to that.”

“You can’t get in a crash and die on Christmas,” Sirius says. “It’d be, like, a super huge downer for us every year.”

“I’ll be fine,” you insist.

“Shortcake, I don’t care if we have to lock you in here,” James says, frowning in a way that doesn’t look particularly tough when he’s swaying back and forth to rock Harry on his chest. “There’s no way you can drive all the way to your place in this.”

You roll your eyes good-naturedly, wrapping your scarf.

“Okay, you know I would never usually say this,” Lily says, gnawing on her lip as she watches the snow blow past outside, “but I think you should listen to the boys. It looks too scary out there to drive that far.”

“It’s…” You look between them, your argument dying of futility on your tongue. James seems prepared to blockade you in Remus’ flat, and even Lily’s giving you a stern look. Your gaze lands on Remus, and the last of your resistance melts away.

“You really should stay here,” he says kindly. “Actually, I’d feel a lot better if you did. Okay?”

You sigh, slipping your scarf back over your head. “Okay.”

“Phew!” Sirius says, pulling you into a one-armed hug. “Glad that’s settled. See you all soon, thanks for Christmas Moony!”

“He’s so tired,” Lily says after Sirius is out the door.

“Wiped,” James agrees, adjusting his grip on Harry so that he can wrap one arm around Remus’ neck. Remus leans down into the awkward hug, begrudgingly fond as he pats his friend on the back, then kisses Lily on the cheek when James moves to you.

“Thanks for the gifts,” James says, grinning down at Harry’s knit antlers after he releases you. “He’s never taking this off.”

“He means it.” Lily sends her husband a look as fond as it is weary as she hugs you. “I’ll probably have to bathe Harry when James is asleep so he doesn’t catch him without it.”

Your face is feeling hot again. “I’m glad you like it,” you say with a little shrug, but your friends are used to your shyness and only smile and wave on their way out.

And then the door shuts, and you and Remus are left alone in the quiet.

“Are you tired?” he asks you, moving back into the living room. Lily had sneakily taken care of a good deal of the cleanup, but there’s still a few half-empty glasses of eggnog strewn about which Remus begins gathering.

“Not really,” you answer honestly, beating him to the sink and forcing him to hand you the glasses to wash. “Are you?”

“No,” he agrees, and the look he shoots you has to be the gentlest form malice has ever taken as he takes up the dish towel and stations himself beside you. “Fancy a film?”

“Mmm, a Christmas film?”

“Obviously.”

The dishes are finished quickly thanks to Lily’s interference, and Remus makes you some hot cocoa while you scroll through movies, calling out possibilities. The only conflict between you is your equal complaisance to whatever the other prefers, and you eventually settle on the first one you’d seen just to put an end to it. You take your cocoa gladly when Remus passes it to you, blowing gently while he settles a blanket over the both of you, your knees curled towards him and his one leg crossed over the other angling him towards you.

The first few minutes of the film are spent in that contented quietude that the two of you so often fall into when you’re alone together, but then Remus asks you, “What is it?”

You look over at him. “Hm?”

“You’re frowning.”

“Oh.” You laugh. “I’m just thinking about snow.”

His lips quirk. “It is kind of the bane of your existence tonight, isn’t it?”

“No.” You smile down at your hands, hoping it's not obvious how not unpleasant you find your circumstances at the moment. “That’s not it. I was thinking, I kind of hate how it always has to snow in these movies. It makes any Christmas where it doesn’t snow feel like it’s not up to par. Or not quintessential enough, or something.”

“Mmm, I see.” Remus looks back to the screen, considering. “Does that make this your quintessential Christmas, then? Are we living up to the movie standard?”

You watch him while he watches the TV, blue light cast over his handsome features. “I guess so,” you say.

The longer you sit there, the closer you get. You blame it on the late hour, your bodies relaxing towards each other on the couch. Remus’ arm brushes yours when he lifts his mug for a sip, and your knees dig into his thigh under the blanket. Soon you’ve drooped enough that you’re leaning nearly entirely against him. You don’t notice until Remus puts an arm around you to encourage your head to his shoulder. You tense but don’t sit up, and eventually his head comes to rest atop yours.

“Are you crying?” he murmurs during one scene near the end.

Your reply is equally soft, not wanting to jostle either Remus’ head or his shoulder with your speech movements. “I really like this part.”

“You know how it ends. It’s going to be okay.”

“I know.” You sniffle, bringing a hand up to wipe your face now that you’ve been caught. “I know it is. It’s just really profound.”

“Sure it is.”

“It’s the spirit of Christmas, Remus. Goodwill to man.”

“Okay.” He rubs your shoulder, and you pretend not to feel his shaking with quiet laughter. “Okay, I agree with you.”

And awhile later: “You’re tired,” he accuses.

You hum a denial.

“Sweetheart” —your stomach flutters, and there’s a jolt somewhere behind your ribcage; you ignore it— “you’re practically falling asleep right here.”

“Are you tired?”

He shifts slightly, stubble tickling your forehead. “No. But you are.”

“I want to finish the movie.”

He seems to debate this for a moment, then his shoulder relaxes beneath you. “Alright.”

The credits start, and neither of you move.

You let your head slump more heavily onto his shoulder. “Your place really does look lovely. Thanks for having me.”

“Of course, love.” You can feel his smile squish up against the top of your head. “Would you go so far as to say my hosting measures up to James’?”

You chuckle, gesturing to yourself. “I’d say you’ve gone above and beyond, for sure.”

Remus laughs too. “Perfect. Tell him so, would you?”

You’re going to agree when a great yawn takes you. You keep it quiet, but there’s no avoiding the way your chin digs into Remus’ shoulder, your shoulders rising with the prolonged inhale. He moves away from you.

“Ready for bed?” He smiles down at you as you run a knuckle under your eyes, collecting tears from your lashes.

You shrug an admittance. “Sort of. But I don’t want to kick you out of your own living room if you’re not tired yet.”

“No, I’m pretty wiped too,” he says. “Anyway, I’m the one kicking you out. You’re staying in my room.”

You had a feeling he would say something like that. You grab a throw pillow, getting situated with your head near the armrest. “No, I’m not.”

His laugh is disbelieving. “Yeah, you are. Come on, you’re my guest. I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.”

You tug the blanket off his lap, curling up with your pillow stubbornly. “I’m not going to steal your bed. You’ve already done so much. You’ve helped me try gingerbread cookies and given me nice mittens and hosted an amazing Christmas. Let me sleep on your couch, please.”

“While I appreciate all that,” he says, “no.”

“Remus.” You’re near pleading at this point. “Your back will hurt.”

“Your back will hurt.”

“Not as badly as yours.” You give him a hard look. “I’m not taking your bed.”

There’s a brief silence, terser than your usual ones but no more awkward for it. You stare each other down.

“Right,” Remus says, reclaiming the remote from where he’d set it on the coffee table. “I suppose we’d better start another movie, then.”

“Remus, come on.” You sit up, giving his shoulder a gentle nudge. “You’ve just said you’re tired. Go to bed, please.”

The TV flickers back on. “I’m not leaving this couch.”

“Well, neither am I,” you laugh, completely serious.

He rolls his eyes, then snuggles up to you under the blanket. You take this as a sign that he’s not really very cross with you. “You’re much more argumentative than usual tonight, you know that?”

You huff, laying your head back on his shoulder. “I could say the same about you.”

“True, but I know I’ll win out in the end.”

“You can think that if you like.”

“Want to watch this one next?”

“Sure.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus watches as your eyes drift closed, then twitch back open, over and over again. He thinks his bony shoulder is the only thing keeping you from falling over the precipice of sleep. If he were James Potter, he’d simply pick you up with ease and carry you to his bed, but Remus can’t say he’s entirely sorry for this extra time with you, even if neither of you are awake enough to make much conversation.

Silly as it sounds, he enjoys just sitting here with you nearly as much as talking. Your cheek squished into his shoulder, your legs curled up atop his, you’re warm and weighty against him.

He should have known it would be a hopeless endeavor trying to get you to agree to take the bed. You’re a gentle thing by nature, but stubborn in your selflessness. Even if you had gone, Remus knows he wouldn’t have slept all night anyway, too preoccupied with thoughts of you all wrapped up in his sheets, your face pressed to his pillow, getting your shampoo-smell on the pillowcase. He doesn’t know if it smells like him (does he have a smell?), but he would have wondered all night if it does, if you were noticing.

Your head nearly rolls off his shoulder, and a pitying sound escapes Remus when you jerk awake to set it right. He lets his head rest on yours so it doesn’t happen again. Your eyelids droop closed almost immediately, and Remus begins dragging his thumb over your shoulder blade, a nice, slow back-and-forth. You’re quiet for a long while.

“Are you trying to put me to sleep?” you murmur, words all sloshed together.

It’s a conscious effort not to let his thumb slow. “No,” he says.

You hum.

“Unless you mean it’s working.”

Another long silence. “It’s not,” you reply, head growing heavier on his shoulder.

He chuckles. “Come on, sweetheart. Let’s get you to bed, hm?”

“You go to bed,” you mumble, and if he thought you were capable of it he’d say there was some bitterness lining your words.

He sighs. “You’re too nice for your own good,” he tells you.

“No,” you reply, softly, plainly, like it’s a fact, “that’s you.”

He picks his head up off of yours to see your face. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.” Your eyes are closed. You don’t know he’s looking. Your face is wholly relaxed, no hint of pretense about you. “You’re the best I know.”

Something warm and wheedling works its way through Remus’ ribs to the soft gooey core of him. “Well,” he tells you honestly, “you’re the best I know.”

You seem unconcerned. “Another impasse for us.”

He actually laughs at that, instantly guilty when it jostles you on his shoulder and your eyelids peel apart. He can’t regret it, though, when you look at him the way you do. You’re glowing in the light coming off the tree, soft and warm and lovely, and yet you’re looking at him like he’s the only place your eyes want to go. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You come gradually more awake, eyebrows twitching towards each other just slightly. “Remus,” you murmur, and he finally does what he’s been wanting to since you’d shown up at his door hours ago. He kisses you.

Your lips are pliable, parting for his almost instantly, like you’d been waiting. His hand coasts from your shoulder to cup the back of your head, keeping you close as your nose slides against his. You both all but fall back onto the bed you’d made yourself on the couch. He’s careful not to put too much of his weight on you, but when his tongue brushes across the inside of your lip and you inhale, he draws back.

“I...” He pants into the space between you. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

You make a sound that’s half hum, half whine, and bump your chin up into his.

Remus loses himself again with frightening quickness. It’s even better now that you seem more sure, your mouth asking, coaxing against his. You taste like gingerbread. An low, embarrassing sound pries free from the back of his throat when you wind your fingers into the hair at his nape, and he slips his free hand beneath your back, getting as close to you as he can. Your legs make room for him automatically, knees tipping open so he can slot between them.

“Do you—” you breathe when his attentions move downward, tilting your head to the side to offer access as he mouths at the skin just under your jaw. “Do you want this?”

The word leaves him in a soft exhale, muffled against your skin. “Yes.”

You swallow. He feels the movement in your throat. “Are you sure?”

His eyelashes brush your jaw as his kisses slow, become more tender, more intentional. “Lovely girl,” he murmurs. “You’re silly, you know that?” His mouth meanders it’s way over to your pulse, getting stuck there and sucking at your skin lazily. “I mean, you’re smart.” The words are all mushed up against you. Noticeably amused. Remus quit the eggnog hours ago, yet he feels half drunk. “You’re really smart, honey, but you can be so oblivious sometimes.”

You don’t respond, and as much as he loves the sound of your voice, he’s hoping your silence is in his favor right now. He wants you wrapped up in him, wants to engross you so completely you forget how to form your lips around speech.

“Do you want to move to my room?”

You take a breath. Fuck, even the sound of you breathing is nearly enough to undo him. He moves back to your mouth as if to intercept it, nipping at your lower lip.

“Is this a ploy to get me off the couch?”

“You’re relentless.”

Your lips curve against his, and he mirrors them without thinking. You stay quiet.

“Fine. I promise it’s not, okay?”

Your laugh is fizzy like champagne, and it warms Remus’ chest like it too. “Okay,” you say in that lovely voice. “Okay, let’s go.”

❆ ❆ ❆

You’d always thought Remus was all softness. He’s made up of soft looks, soft colors, and hair that you can now confirm is soft as dandelion fluff. But this night has defied your expectations in a thousand ways. And your Remus, soft, gentle, kindhearted Remus, is scraping at your throat with his teeth.

You have to suck your lip between your teeth to keep from making a humiliatingly desperate sound when he passes his tongue over his work, another crescent moon that’s sure to be purple by morning. Your hands are beseeching in his dandelion fluff hair, keeping him close while his hands are busy lower, one gripping the fat of your hip while the other drags tantalizingly slow up and down your side. He’s kissing you like you have all the time in the world, sometimes rough but no more urgent for it, and you’re breathy and molten and useless beneath him.

You’re brimming with adoration and something else too. Something that you think you could almost identify—you’ve felt it before, but never like this.

“What do you want to do?” There’s a raspy quality to his voice that would send you to your knees if he hadn’t already taken them out from under you. He dots leisurely, open-mouthed kisses up the column of your throat, soothing over spots he’s already nipped and sucked into oblivion. Your head feels fuzzy. “Sweetheart?”

Christ, is he trying to send you into cardiac arrest? Remus doesn’t stop kissing you even at your silence, finding your lip still held between your teeth and encouraging it free with his own. You try to remember what he’d ask you. What do you want to do? You have no idea. Where would you even start? You want him to keep talking to you in that raspy voice, that’s for sure. You want…you want to keep kissing him, to know what his hands would do if you let them beneath your clothes. You want to keep investigating that warm feeling in your gut. See where it takes you.

Remus’ kisses slow, then stop. He pulls back to look at you. In the dim street light coming in through the window, you wonder what he sees. “You alright?” His voice is soft, gentle, saying it’s okay if you’re not without saying it.

You take a breath. It shakes a little on the way out, but you don’t think he can tell. “Yeah, I’m good. Just nervous. But not in a bad way.” Nervous-happy.

“Don’t be,” he implores, lips brushing your cheek. “It’s only me.”

Exactly, you think. It’s you.

“What do you want to do?” You turn his own question back on him.

His smile is tinged with bashfulness. “I mean, whatever you’re alright with.” There’s a tentative quietness to his voice. “Have you…”

If it were possible for you to get any warmer, embarrassment would do it. “No,” you say, shrinking away from him though there’s nowhere to go. Whatever the end to that question might be, the answer is no.

“That’s okay,” he says quickly, dropping another kiss on the corner of your mouth like a cure-all remedy. “That’s okay, you just tell me if you want to stop, yeah? If you don’t like something, or you want to slow down—anything at all, you let me know.” He kisses you again, further up on your burning cheek. “Okay?”

You swallow. “Okay.”

“Don’t be nervous.” He says it like a promise, hand stroking your side again as if to soothe you. His lips find your shoulder, nosing the fabric of your sleeve. “Can I take this off, lovely?”

You nod, words all stoppered up in your throat, then realize he can’t see you and do it yourself. He has to pause as it comes off, taking the opportunity to do away with his own sweater, tossing it on the floor beside the bed. You do the same, and your bra quickly follows. You’d always thought (largely influenced, admittedly, by trashy novels) that this was the part where the guy stops what he’s doing and openly oggles the shirtless woman in front of him, but Remus has seen tits before and wastes no time in getting his mouth back on yours, pressing you into the mattress. His skin is as heated as yours, the areas where you touch deliciously warm despite the cold still whipping past his bedroom window. You allow yourself one sweeping, appreciative pass over the muscles on Remus’ back before your hands go down to your bottoms, shimmying them down your legs. A long-fingered hand finds the exposed skin of your thigh and kneads reverently. You swallow Remus’ groan, and he kisses you more deeply, long, savoring passes of his tongue along the inside of your mouth until his lips move downward.

One hand stays at your hip while the other strokes up and down your thigh, spit cooling in a path down your stomach. You try to relax as he passes your navel, but the anticipation is hard to shake. You’re nearly trembling when he kneels between your legs, kissing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“Is this okay?” he murmurs.

It’s all you can do to nod, gasping when his teeth drag over one of the stretch marks there. You clutch at the sheets above your head like a lifeline.

“We can stop anytime you want.”

You inhale raggedly. “No,” you manage. Your breathlessness is obvious in the quiet room. “I want—I want to keep going.” You pause. “Do you?”

You can hear the smile in his voice. “Yeah, love, that sounds good to me.”

Good, you’re about to say, but Remus’ next kiss lands on your slit, and your voice withers and dies in your throat. He uses a hand to push one of your legs open further while bringing the other over his shoulder, spreading you open. His breath fans hot over your cunt.

You’re writhing at the first broad stroke of his tongue, and he wraps his fingers around the outside of your thigh, keeping you still while placating you at the same time.

Remus takes his time, lapping experimentally at your entrance before making his way upwards. You gasp as his tongue skims over your clit, burrowing your hand in his hair before hesitating.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

His hummed assent has you tightening your grasp. He brushes over your clit one more time, and when this gets a similar reaction from you, begins sucking on it gently. You’re panting, and Remus has to move his grip to your hip to hold you in place, squeezing indulgently at the fat there while he narrows in on what you like. Before long you’re trembling all over, grasping feebly at his hair as you squeeze your eyes shut against the odd sort of bliss that’s taking you under.

“Remus,” you breathe, and it’s a miracle that he hears you but he does, raising his head with a lewd suctioning sound.

He looks at you questioningly with eyes almost all pupil.

“Come here,” you plead.

He obeys, crawling back up you to peck at your bitten lips. “Doing alright?” he asks you.

“Yeah,” you promise, cupping his head in one hand and wrapping your leg over the back of his as if to prevent him from leaving. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

You feel him smile against your lips. He slots his mouth over yours, and you dedicate yourself to his top lip. He tastes like sex, braver now as he explores your mouth. He drags your bottom lip between his teeth, and you make a high, breathy sound. His grip on you tightens.

“Do you think—can we—”

He hesitates, kissing softly at the corner of your lips. “Are you sure?”

“I want to. Do you?”

Remus actually laughs, muffling the sound against your cheek. “Yeah, I fucking want to. I’ve wanted to forever.”

You can’t think about that. Think about that and you’ll fall to pieces.

He noses affectionately at the underside of your jaw, slipping down you once again to stand at the end of the bed. He steps out of his pants and grabs a condom from the drawer of his nightstand. “You’ll tell me if I do anything you don’t like, yeah?”

“Mhm,” you promise, anticipation coiling up snugly with that other thing in your stomach. They don’t feel all that distinct from one another.

“Alright,” he says, palm slipping under your thigh. “Can I lift this up, love?”

You nod, and he grasps the soft underside of your knee, bringing your leg up to your stomach as he lines up. You gasp as he pushes in slowly, watching your face to make sure you’re doing okay. You’re already slick and worked open from his ministrations, and it’s still a bit shocking. His thumb strokes beside your knee as your walls adjust to the size of him. “How’s that feel?”

“Good,” you say honestly. There’s a note of desperation to your voice. “I can—more, please.”

He’s quick to accommodate you, pushing deeper as he folds himself over you to recapture your lips. Your breaths shallow. His free hand moves to your breast, kneading gently at the soft flesh. He gives it a firm squeeze at the same time as he moves inside you, and you nearly bite Remus’ lip off, a half-suppressed keening sound escaping you.

“So good,” he mumbles. “You’re doing so good, sweetheart. Taking it so well.” He lifts his head, kissing your temple. “Think you can handle a bit more?”

Your response is barely more than breath, but he catches the affirmation, pressing another firm kiss to your forehead before he bottoms out inside you. Your head lolls back, fuzzy with the strange pain and even stranger pleasure. Remus tightens his grip on your leg to keep it up, dotting kisses down the side of your face.

“Good girl,” he says hoarsely. “Still doing okay, lovely?”

“Yeah,” you say, somewhat dizzy. “Remus, it feels so good.”

“Good,” he croons. “It should feel good, love. Ready for me to move?”

“Mhm.”

He pulls out slowly, dragging against your sensitive walls. He starts mouthing at your neck again before he pushes back inside you, filling you up all over again. A slew of expletives roll out of your mouth, unbidden and entirely unlike you, as Remus begins pumping your breast again, the rhythm matching that of his thrusts. He sucks the flesh of your neck between his teeth, and you bite down hard on your lower lip to repress what promises to be a high-pitched and deeply mortifying sound.

Remus praises you amply, soft kisses and reverent touches and a raspy “Fuck, sweetheart, just like that.” Your head floats or swims or both, your body tensed all over and yet completely plaint beneath Remus’ hands. He moves back to your mouth, discovering your bottom lip held captive between your teeth.

“Come on, don’t do that,” he chides, easing it free with gentle kisses. “Let me hear you, bet you sound so pretty.”

The Welsh accent that’s grown faint after years of living away from home is emerging now, as is the crude vocabulary it's tied to in memory, a host of barely comprehensible profanities spewing from Remus’ lips when you clench on him again. His grip tightens on your tit, and a moan tears from the back of your throat.

“That’s it,” he praises, head dipping to kiss the soft spot he’s found under your ear. “There you are, lovely girl.”

The coil in your core grows impossibly tighter, your thighs quivering as you approach a peak you’ve never known before. Remus feels it, cooing softly even as he drives into you harder.

“You gonna cum, sweetheart?” You nod dazedly. “Good, good, just let it happen, I’ve got you.”

“Come here,” you demand again, and he wastes no time in obliging you. He kisses your lips sore as you dig your nails into his shoulders, pulling his body flush against yours, the feeling inside you growing so great you don’t know where to put it, don’t know if you can contain it. You can’t remember ever feeling this close to someone, Remus’ touch the only thing keeping you from hurtling off some unknown precipice.

“Let go,” he urges, and you do. You trust him to catch you.

It’s bliss like you’ve never known. You cry out, and Remus’ hand slides down from your breast to spread wide and flat against your ribs. Steadying. He kisses soothingly at your jaw as you gasp and pant your way back to him, grip slackening on his shoulders.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, though you really haven’t done much at all.

“Are you—” You swallow, choking on the emotion that’s risen unbidden in your throat. “Are you close?”

Remus smiles, coming back to your lips like he can’t help himself. He pecks you once, twice. “Sweetheart, I’m more than close. I’ve barely been holding myself together since you kissed me.”

Well, he’d actually kissed you, but you’ll take the compliment anyway.

“Do you think you’ll be alright if I move again?” he asks. “It’s okay if not.”

“You can,” you say certainly, leaning up on your elbows to see him better. “Is there…anything I can do to help?”

The smile fades from his face, leaving something far more tender in its wake. “Just, keep looking at me like that?” He says it almost like he’s embarrassed, voice quiet with supplication.

You want to tell him you’d never needed asking to look at him, but you don’t, keeping your eyes on his obediently as he pumps into you. He really must have been close, because he’s cursing again not long after, accent twisting his syllables with a gruff pleasure. Your walls contract at the movement, still sensitive, and that’s all it takes. Remus digs his fingers into your waist and makes sounds you’re sure you’ll dream about, panting, breathy moans you sit up to smother against your lips. He follows you back down onto the mattress, mouth slotted against your own. You hold him to you until his breaths even and his grip on you loosens.

“Was that alright?” he asks, some of the rasp still lingering in his voice.

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you, dizzy with affection. “Yeah, it was good,” you promise him. Understatement of the year. “Really good, Rem.”

“Good,” he echoes, lips brushing the skin under your eye. You don’t know how you know, but you can feel the amusement building in him just before he asks, “Tired yet?”

You guffaw. The force of it jostles him on top of you, and his lips curve against your cheek. “A little bit, yeah.” Actually, you hadn’t realized how exhausting sex would be. If it didn’t mean having to take your eyes off Remus, you’d have closed them and passed out by now.

“Good,” he says again, hands sliding down your waist as he moves to stand again. You make a small sound as he shifts, and Remus shushes you, slipping out from inside you. You watch fascinatedly as he removes the condom, sticky with cum. He tosses it in the wastebasket under his desk and walks away from you.

“Hey,” you protest. “You’d better not be sneaking off to sleep on the couch.”

His chuckle echoes in the bathroom, followed by the sound of a cabinet opening. “So mistrustful,” he says when he comes back in with a damp towel. “What’ve I done to arouse such suspicion?”

Your fuzzy brain gets stuck on the word arouse in his teasing tone, and it takes you a second to answer. “Well, I’m here and a blink away from falling asleep, so you tell me.”

“Fair enough.” He rolls his eyes good-naturedly, taking your thigh in his grasp to move it aside. “Alright if I clean you up, love?”

You startle, coming up on your elbows to see where Remus is holding the towel between your legs. “I didn’t realize it’d be so messy,” you admit. “You don’t have to, though, I can do it myself.”

“I don’t mind,” he says, thumb soothing over your knee. “S’my mess anyway.” He seems to have not quite agreed with himself to say that last part aloud, a blush spreading over his cheeks.

“Sure,” you say, mostly to alleviate his embarrassment. You let your weight lean more heavily on your elbows, trying your best to look relaxed. “Sure, if you’re alright with it.”

“Might be a bit sensitive,” he warns. You’d guessed as much, but it's worth it for all the praises he rains down upon you as he works, finishing with a kiss to the side of your knee.

You miss him humiliatingly when he goes to the bathroom again to discard the towel. It’s all you can do not to reach for him when he comes back, but luckily Remus reads your mind anyway, slipping under the covers and tugging you to him until his lips rest against your forehead.

“That was really great,” you tell him.

“I thought so too.”

“You’ll stay here, right?”

A low laugh. “Yeah, sweetheart. I’m staying here.”

❆ ❆ ❆

Remus hasn’t known anyone to sleep in longer than Sirius, but you seem to be vying for his title. The sun has long since passed above his windows when Remus wakes, and still he has time to spend idle hours marveling at the closeness of you. His nose is cold above the covers, but everywhere your bodies are pressed together is warm, your palm flat against his chest and one of your legs wormed between his own. Your fingers twitch as you dream.

It has to be early afternoon by the time he rises, slipping his hand carefully from beneath you and plodding into the kitchen. The blanket is still on the couch where you left it, throw pillow creased with your indentation. Your mugs are discarded on the coffee table with globs of once-hot cocoa stuck to the bottom. Bright light refracts off the snow outside and into his kitchen, making everything look shiny new.

Remus starts the kettle first, letting that warm up while he rifles through the cabinets for his big mixing bowl and starts whisking together ingredients. A bird chirps outside as the kettle gurgles, and somehow the peace of Remus’ kitchen feels more complete knowing that you’re sleeping just down the hall.

Until, apparently, you’re not. Your footsteps are so silent he startles when you appear, still blinking yourself awake as you cross your arms over the sweater you’ve thrown on with your bottoms from the night before. Remus’ sweater. And Remus had thought he’d come to terms with the idea of you here, in his apartment like the best Christmas gift of all time, but apparently not, because his heart stutters and stops at the sight of you.

He’d thought you’d looked adorable in the soft glow of the Christmas lights the night before, and again tucked into his sheets this morning, but you’re almost ethereal now. Sunlight bathes the planes of your face and gleams off your hair, making you appear almost like you’re emanating the bright light rather than standing in it. You smile at him, seraphim.

“Morning. Sorry I didn’t ask,” you say, fingering the hem of Remus’ sweater. “I was cold and you were gone, I hope you don’t mind.”

Mind? Remus can’t even think.

“Course not,” he manages, but just barely. It’s more an exhale than a statement. “Did you sleep alright?”

“Really well,” you say. His sleeves cover your fingers as you rest your elbows on the counter, and your gaze has gone a bit shy again, but Remus can hardly blame you. You both seemed to have experienced unusual nerve the night before. He only hopes you aren’t regretting your part in it. And now that he’s had some time to think, he hopes even more that you’d truly wanted it in the first place. “Did you?”

“Yeah, thanks.”

You lean a bit closer in a way that he doubts either of you are even slightly unaware of, peering into the mixing bowl. “What’re you making?”

“I’m experimenting,” he says, though he wishes now he weren’t. He wanted to make you something good, but his confidence in his adaptation is waning now that you’re in the room. He should have gone with something basic, tried-and-true. “Or, I’m attempting. Gingerbread pancakes?”

His voice crawls up into a question, as if he really has no idea what it is he’s trying to make (maybe that’s closer to the truth), but Remus’ regrets vanish instantly at the genuine elation that lights your expression.

“Really?”

A laugh startles out of him, giddy. “Yeah, does that sound alright?”

“More than alright,” you declare with full seriousness, seating yourself at the bar counter. “That sounds amazing, Rem, thank you. Merlin, I owe you so big for all of this.”

“I think you’ve more than made it up to me.” It slips out without permission, Remus too high on the flow of your conversation to filter the words through his brain before they reach his mouth. His loathsome, traitorous mouth. “I mean, I’m sorry—fuck, that sounds awful—I only meant that I’ve had a really good time with you here. I’m glad you stayed.”

You flush horribly, and Remus doesn’t expect he’s faring much better.

“Not that I’m only glad because of—or, I’m always glad to have you. As a friend, too.”

There’s a tiny pinch in your features, gone before he can diagnose it. Somehow, you seem even more uncomfortable. “Right.” You give him a thin smile. It’s a hearty attempt, but you’re too genuine a soul to fake it. Remus hates himself for it. “As a friend.”

They’re his own words, put hearing them from your mouth and with that piss-poor smile feels like having a fire poker jammed between his ribs.

With his track record this morning, he really should be taking a vow of silence, but he can’t seem to stop himself. “Just friends, then?” Hesitance makes his voice sound quiet even in the silent kitchen. He looks down, stirring the batter to avoid watching the answer take form on your face.

“I mean,” your tone is a match to his, “is that what you want?”

A short, soft laugh escapes him. “I think I made what I want fairly clear last night.”

There’s a short silence. “I thought I did too.”

It’s a conscious effort to keep stirring. Had you? Remus had kissed you, he’d brought you to his room, he’d been the one to ask if you wanted to do more. And you’d been game for it all, sure, but he can’t help but wonder if you were just going along with it. If maybe you’d thought it was just a fuck, something he’d come up with to pass the time while you were both snowed in, no strings attached. Remus could understand that. He could disentangle the strings from last night if it’s what you want. But he’s liked you for years. He could love you oh so easily. He’s practically teetering on the edge of it already, though you’ve only been friends all this time.

Remus spoons some batter into a waiting pan on the stove. He’s debating asking what exactly it is that you thought you’d made clear when you speak again.

“I understand if it’s too much for you.” Your voice is shy. He looks up, and your shoulders are hunched as if you’re trying to hide yourself. You shrink further under his gaze. “We can stay just friends if it’s…if that’s what you want. I want whatever’s easier for you.” Your next words are so impossibly soft, Remus has to strain to hear them over the low sizzling of the pancake batter. “I really want you to stay in my life.”

“What?” It’s a staccato, loud enough that it surprises you both, Remus stepping toward you while you nearly flinch back. “Sorry.” His hand goes up, reaching into the space between you as if he can soothe you from feet away. He lowers his volume. “Sorry, sweetheart, I just—I didn’t realize that was even on the table. I would never want to not be in your life.”

“I just mean that I don’t want to make things weird for you, or for everyone else—”

“Hey.” He manages to cross the distance this time, his hand landing on your wrist atop the counter. Remus isn’t sure why he needs it there so desperately, but he suddenly feels much better. “There is nothing that could make any of us not want to be friends with you. I can speak for everyone in that regard. Okay?”

You look at him consideringly for a moment. Remus holds your stare, letting you see his certainty. “Okay,” you echo, sounding unsure. He’ll deal with that later, he decides.

“Okay,” he says once more, and it’d almost be firm if it weren’t so gentled by the tenderness he can never seem to get rid of around you. Even so, what he says next doesn’t sound particularly tender. It’s not very kind to you, he knows, but Remus is selfish, and he feels (selfishly) like he’s done his part already. He tries to phrase it as nicely as he can. “Can you tell me what it is that you want, please?”

You try to shrink again, and Remus’ grip tightens on your wrist instinctually as if to keep you from running off. He swipes his thumb over your skin apologetically. “Remus, come on.” You sound almost upset, but it’s hard to tell with your voice so quiet. “I know I’m not that good at—at covering myself up. I must have hearts in my eyes half the time I look at you.”

Remus would give a month’s rent to know what you can see in his eyes right now. Even if he’d been hoping for an answer something like that, he hadn’t expected it. And for you to act like it’s been obvious…he does his best to think back.

You’ve always been a shy thing. It had taken James months to get you to be remotely yourself around them, and though you’d seemed to warm to Remus first, you’d always retained some of your bashfulness when you were alone together. He’d chalked it up to the result of two people, quiet by nature, with no wildly extroverted James or Sirius or Lily to run interference.

You’ve always been kind to him, but you’re kind to everyone. How is anyone supposed to suspect favoritism from a soul as indiscriminately sweet as yours?

He recalls your voice last night, thin and reedy and fragile as the cattails that had bordered the river behind his house as a kid. Wary of getting swept along by the current, but willing to go if Remus would take you. Do you want this?

He’d called you oblivious for asking. How could you wonder, when he’d been the one to kiss you and has probably been looking like he wanted to for years? He’s certainly been thinking about it for as long. But perhaps your obliviousness is another congruity between the two of you.

So much for opposites attract.

“I think I’m an idiot,” he says, and mercifully, a smile far more real than the last sneaks onto your face.

“You are not,” you reply, ever forgiving.

“Don’t tell Sirius,” he warns, “but I really think I am.” His voice drops into a more earnest register. “I had no idea, love, I’m sorry. Maybe you’re a better actress than you thought. But if you don’t want to be friends, I don’t want to either.” Remus hesitates. “Or, I always want to be your friend, just—”

“Remus?”

Finally. Someone needs to stop him. “Yeah?”

“Your pancake…”

He turns to find a thin spire of smoke rising from the pan. “Oh, fuck.” He grabs a spatula and quickly flips the pancake, but there’s no saving it. The bottom side is completely blackened. It’s inedible. “Sorry, I…I’m not sure I have enough batter for much more.”

“It’s fine.” There’s laughter in your tone, and that’s more than enough to make up for it. “It was a really sweet thought, that’s what matters anyway.”

Remus turns to find you’ve slipped out of your seat and are standing uncertainly on the threshold of the kitchen. His heart warms with incandescent, aching fondness.

“Would you come here?” he asks.

You comply with an eagerness he wonders he’s never noticed before, stepping forward to let him fold you into his arms. Your wrists cross over his mid back and the tip of his nose mushes into your hair as he touches his lips to the top of your head. He can’t believe he could have been holding you like this all along if only he hadn’t been so thick. He supposes he’ll have to make the most of it now.

“Let’s do away with asking about want, does that sound alright?” He rubs lightly between your shoulder blades, wonders if you like the feel of his breath on your scalp. “How about you tell me if anything comes up that you don’t want, and I’ll do the same.”

“Yeah.” Remus knows he likes the feel of your voice on his skin, chin moving against his chest. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Good.” He smiles, pressing another kiss to your head. “Okay, should we venture out to find something for breakfast? Or lunch, I suppose it is by now.”

You ease out of his arms. “I really should go home.” There’s an apology already embedded in your tone, but you add one anyway. “Sorry, but my cat’s been there all night by herself, so…”

“Right.” Remus ignores the dull throb behind his sternum, which is really a bit dramatic. He’ll see you soon, surely. “Yeah, that makes sense. Think you’ll be able to drive?”

“I mean, I looked outside.” You shrug, backing towards where you’d hung your coat the night before. “The roads here are cleared, which I hope means they’ve gotten to most of them already.”

“That’s good,” he says, though he feels the opposite. Your poor cat, he’s pitted completely against her now. She’s done nothing to deserve the resentment he’s directing at her, almost petulant in his malcontent. “Good, good.”

You’re both silent as you put on your shoes, your scarf. It’s not unusual for the two of you, but it lacks its usual easy contentedness. Your eyes flit up as you pull on your new gloves, a silent thanks in them that you know Remus won’t let you voice aloud again. Despite the upset in his chest, he smiles.

“I…listen, I have to go home,” you tell him, looking down as you wriggle your fingers more snugly into the gloves. “I have to feed my cat. But that doesn’t necessarily mean I want to…leave.”

Remus can’t see how that changes anything, but he recognizes it for the olive branch it is. You’re both so uncertain, and you’re trying to alleviate his worries about what you leaving right now means. He can return the favor.

“I don’t want you to leave either,” he says, “but I get it. She seems important to you, best to keep her well.”

“Exactly.” You smile, relieved. “But I mean, if you’re not doing anything, you could come meet her? We could pick up breakfast on the way. Or I could make you something there.”

Remus can’t believe his luck. And, once again, his stupidity in not getting there himself. Why is it that all of a sudden, everything that has to do with you seems so absurdly difficult? At least one of you is thinking clearly.

“Yeah, that would be fantastic.” He’s grinning hugely, totally unlike him but liking it very much. “Let me grab my coat.”

“Wait.” There’s a newly familiar breathless quality to your voice, and when Remus turns you’re already coming forward to meet him. Your palm slides against the stubble along his jaw as you stretch your neck, kissing him sweetly on the lips. “There,” you say, timidity shrouded beneath a good layer of happiness, “now we’re even.”

Remus laughs, loud and startled. He wants to be generous with you, he really does, but he still thinks you’re far from even. “I’m not sure about that, sweetheart,” he says warmly, pressing a brief kiss to the corner of your eyebrow, “but we'll get there.”

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fangswbenefits · 9 months

Text

Consequences

Summary: Miguel’s obsession with you reaches a breaking point, and now he’s left to deal with the consequences.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

Word count: 2.5k

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Shy/inexperienced sweet reader. Pining. Pillow hump*ng.

Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous part

Miguel hadn’t managed to get a single second of sleep.

After having heard you mumble that name over and over, he had retreated to the living room, scanning through your file like a madman, hoping he’d find out who this person was.

Tom.

He had Lyla comb through everything, but nothing had come up.

By the time six in the morning rolled around, you exited the room with a long yawn, stretching out your arms, as Miguel sat on his counch, eyeing you intensely.

Still not wearing a bra.

Still in his shirt.

But having mumbled someone else’s name.

Needless to say, this ordeal had effectively killed his boner for good.

It was hard for him to hide his scowl. “Sleep well?”

Your lips curled into a satisfied smile. “Hmm. You?”

Laughable.

He nodded, not wanting his voice to betray his feelings.

“Do you think I can take a shower before I go to the lab?”

“Sure.”

You glared at him, arching an eyebrow. “Is… everything okay?”

“Of course,” he said, clearing his throat. “You have some fresh towels in there.”

“Great!” you chirped happily, disappearing into the bathroom.

Maybe a few hours ago, Miguel O’Hara would have been rock hard from the thought of you being naked with nothing but a door in the way.

But he was having a hard time focusing on anything beyond his blinding jealousy.

Who was Tom? A boyfriend? Family? A pet? Someone random?

Or someone important?

Why didn’t he know about this? Was he overreacting? Maybe there was nothing to be jealous of.

But he was sure of something: he needed answers.

He walked up to the kitchen and brew himself a cup of coffee, needing to deal with the headache that had settled.

Not long after, you emerged from the bathroom, completely soaked in the scent of his body wash, and he nearly gasped at how it completely overtook his senses.

Already in your suit, you quickly dropped by his bedroom to drop off his clothes, and walked right back, bearing a sleepy smile.

“Want something to eat?”

You nodded, sitting on the stool by the counter. “Yes, please. Do you have some fruit?”

He grabbed his cup of coffee and scanned the cupboard. “An apple?”

“Yes!” you beamed.

Miguel offered you one that you immediately brought to your lips, sinking your teeth into the soft surface.

To someone on the outside, this could be considered a moment between a couple who was just getting ready to start the day.

Everything looked very… domestic.

Except, it wasn’t.

Maybe he shouldn’t ask. Would it be too much?

But he had to know. It was eating him alive inside not knowing.

“Who’s Tom?”

Your eyes shot up to meet his and you immediately stopped chewing. “What?”

Miguel tried to appear as casual as possible, but something in your reaction made him regret having asked in the first place.

There was no going back now, so he might as well push for it.

Right?

“I heard you in your sleep,” he went on, taking a sip of his coffee. “You whispered that name.”

Your face had hardened lightly and your gaze dropped to the apple in your hand. “Uh… yeah. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

I didn’t even sleep…

“Is he family or…?”

You swallowed and slid off the stool, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s no big deal. Wait… what time is it?” you said, tapping your watch. “Oh. I need to head back to the lab.”

At this point, Miguel knew he had maybe fucked up big time, and went into full on panic mode.

“I’m sorry that I asked, I-”

You immediately shook your head. “Don’t worry. It’s fine! Thanks for letting me stay over.”

He rounded the countertop and walked up to you, desperate to fix whatever he had just broken.

“You can take the day off if you need.”

You smiled again, but he knew that this time it was genuine. “That’s exactly what I don’t need. Now that I’ve managed to get the chips to work, I need to get back and run some tests.”

He allowed himself to relax slightly. From this distance he could smell his shampoo on you, and it made his heart clench.

There you were again.

His hardworking sweet girl.

You gave his arm a light pat. “Thanks again, Miguel. Your bed is really comfortable,” you said, heading to the doorway while rummaging through your backpack. “Much more than mine.”

He’d have it in your apartment in a heartbeat, and he nearly offered, but chose silence.

“See you later!” you waved with a smile before taking another bite out of the apple, and disappearing beyond the sliding door.

That smile could break a man.

It had broken him long ago.

And now Miguel wanted to scream.

To break something.

Not only did he not get an answer from you, but now he was under the impression he had crossed a line he shouldn’t have by having asked you.

He stormed into his room, and paced hurriedly from one end to the other, trying to decide what to do next.

That was until your scent gripped his heightened senses again.

He glared at his bed.

Your scent lingered in the bedsheets and, as if on autopilot, he paced towards it and gripped one pillow, bringing it to his face.

The family rush of blood downwards was almost painful.

You had been in his bed, and he had lost count of the amount of times he had fantasised ravaging you in it.

He allowed his digital suit to dissolve, leaving him fully naked.

Miguel knew deep down that this was too desperate. Even for him.

But that didn’t stop him.

Instead, he got on top of the mattress, right above where you had slept, and positioned the pillow lower, until the underside of his cock was resting on the soft material.

You had left his shirt neatly folded on top of another pillow and he brought the fabric to his nose, breathing in your scent mixed with his.

His hips rolled once.

It was intoxicating, but he couldn’t stop himself from slowly dragging his cock up and down the pillow soaked in your scent, soon to become soaked in his precum.

His grunts were muffled by the fabric and he felt his fang tear through it.

He wasn’t going to last long.

This was too much.

With a few more snaps of his hips, and feeling more and more precum spill out, Miguel was a moaning mess.

How he wished you’d be right under him, taking all those thrusts deep inside, whimpering and sobbing as he filled you over and over again.

The thought of you struggling to take him for the first time was enough to push him over the edge, and more sounds of fabric being torn filled his ears.

He stilled as a guttural growl broke from his throat, strings of cum shooting out and seeping into the soft fabric below.

His breathing was still erratic by the time his fangs retracted.

Once he found the will to get up, he picked up the cum-drenched pillow and decided to throw it away.

The post-nut clarity hit him like a thousand bricks, as he cleaned up the mess, allowing his suit to cover his entire body once again.

If you weren’t going to tell him about Tom, then he knew just who to ask.

Jessica Drew.

Pulling out two orange screens in his livingroom, your file immediately coming up. He then tapped on his watch twice.

Jessica’s hologram popped up. “Morning, Miguel.”

“Busy?”

“Just headed out to brief my squad.”

“Who’s Tom?” he blurted out, positioning his wrist so that she could see your file on the screen.

“Oh.”

He scowled deeply. “What do you mean ‘oh’?”

Jess clicked her tongue. “I mean that I’m not surprised this is about her.”

“What?”

“You’re not as subtle as you think you are, Miguel O’Hara,” she said with a teasing smile. “You might be able to fool others — hell, even her —, but you can’t fool me.”

That was Jessica Drew. Perceptive as always. He wasn’t all that annoyed that she could read him that well. After all, he had recruited her for a reason.

“I’m just concerned about her,” he said, admitting defeat.

“I’m sure you are,” she said, adjusting her glasses. “But maybe you should be asking her, no?”

“I did, and she pushed the topic away.”

She shrugged. “Well, I don’t know of any Tom. That name never popped up while I was scouting her.”

He felt disappointment and frustration grip him tightly, and he began scrolling through your file, wishing he could have missed something.

“Look, I may head out to her dimension later today, and see what I can find,” she offered with a sigh.

“Thank you, Jess.”

“But Miguel…?”

His crimson eyes darted to the flickering hologram. “Yes?”

“If she doesn’t want to talk about it, there may be a chance you won’t like what I find out. If I find anything, that is.”

Point taken.

He was started to accept that the truth might be an inconvenience for him.

But he had to know. The frustration of not knowing was driving him crazy.

“Just do what you have to do.”

She nodded and the hologram faded.

The first time Miguel had been at to your place was to check up on you after almost an entire week of going without sleep.

You were stubborn. Even more than he had been in his younger days.

You’d go home, but continue working, so he had no choice but to restrict your access to the lab data from outside HQ. As expected, you weren’t happy, but finally took his advice and got some rest.

Now he was back, but for a different reason, and he could only hope things between you two hadn’t soured.

He had kept his distance throughout the rest of day, occasionally checking you through the cameras as the mic in your suit.

Nothing had seemed out of the ordinary.

But he had an uneasy feeling brewing inside him, so he had to make sure.

You had promptly let him in even though it was close to midnight, slightly confused as to the reason of him dropping by.

As he stepped in, he was met with a sight he hadn’t seen the last time he had visited: there were wires spread everywhere along the floor, mixed between card boxes and paper scattered across every possible surface he could set his eyes on.

“Sorry for the mess,” you giggled apologetically. “Wasn’t expecting visitors.”

Good.

But also… very workaholic of you.

You were dressed in just a shirt — seemingly wearing a bra, this time — and some sweatpants, with a pencil tucked behind your ear, as you paced in circles, glaring at your pad.

“Love what you did with the decoration,” Miguel mused, trying his best to strategically avoid stepping on anything. “Fire hazard aesthetic, is it?”

You paused to stare at him with a lighthearted chuckle. “Bingo!”

Your reaction made him feel more at ease. Perhaps he had read too much into things.

You were still acting like his sweet girl.

The table at the center had barely any room left, and he managed to find a vacant spot on a chair nearby. “May I sit?”

You were looking through a tube with five different wires running along it. “Oh… I was going to place this there.”

Miguel immediately moved away. “Right. Of course.”

Priorities of any scientist.

Flashing him your trademark grin, you moved around to rest the tube horizontally on the chair.

This place truly resembled his when he was first getting started with Nueva York. All the blueprints and planning and computers and screens.

Oddly enough, your apartment made him feel nostalgic.

“So, what’s up?” you said, before taking a sip of your water.

He ran a hand through his hair and heaved a deep sigh. “I wanted to apologise for earlier today.”

You blinked.

“That conversation… about Tom?”

“Oh!” you suddenly said as realisation hit you. “There’s nothing to apologise for, Miguel! It’s a non issue.”

Well. He begged to differ, actually. Whoever this Tom person was, it had already created a slight rift between you two, even if unintentionally.

And he wanted to fix that.

Miguel was a fixer.

“I just want to make sure that Tom isn’t going to become an issue. For you… or for us.”

He added that last part in an effort to compel you to talk about him, which stemmed from genuine concern. What if Tom was someone dangerous and that could put spider society at risk?

You waved your hand dismissively. “He won’t. Don’t worry.”

He bit the inside of his cheek, feeling the urge to continue with the questions, but it had become clear you weren’t going to collaborate.

It didn’t matter.

He would have information on Tom soon enough, and then he’d decide whether he was an issue or not.

But then… “Are you two close?”

He mentally slapped himself for his impulse.

“Oh, yeah… I guess you could say that,” you said, dragging your finger along the screen in front of you. “But, really, there’s no point talking about it.”

But why?

So he was someone close to you… he had dreaded this possibility becoming true.

But maybe… maybe it was just some family member.

He began pacing around with arms crossed, glacing outside the window and into the night sky.

Deep down, he wanted you to know he was there for you, but he also wanted some answers.

He needed answers.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?”

At this, you slammed your palms on the table, a frown settling on your face. “Miguel! Drop it, please… it’s nothing.”

That was unexpected.

And so unlike you.

And it was enough to stop him in his tracks. “I’m just looking out for you.”

He was. Truly.

And for his relationship with you. A future one, hopefully.

Your features softened as your eyes met his, and he felt the sudden urge to close the gap between you two and pull you into an embrace.

But he chose to keep his distance, not wanting to seem overbearing.

“I know. I’m sorry,” you drawled out, rubbing your temples with both hands. “I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

He shook his head at once. “I shouldn’t have asked.”

“I’ve been too overloaded with work, which is my fault, I know,” you said, pacing nervously. “But… I just want to help.”

Miguel sighed. “And you are. You don’t need to constantly prove yourself. No one will think less of you for not figuring things out at first,” he continued, and he meant every single word. “There’s so much trial and error in our line of work. We should work hard, yes. But not to the point of exhaustion.”

You halted, glaring at him like he had just uttered something unthinkable.

Unexpectedly, you were the one to close the distance between you two with unsure steps.

Dropping both arms against his sides, Miguel watched in silence as you paced closer and closer, your face holding a hint of sadness that should be forbidden.

You should never have to feel sad.

“I know you care,” you said, you voice but a whisper. “And I’m really grateful for you.”

Miguel’s heart sped up, as you tilted your head to stare at him. “Can I hug you?”

How could he ever say no to you? He’d give you anything. Everything.

You just didn’t know that.

He was left baffled and could only nod, and you wrapped your arms around him, pressed your cheek to his chest.

For a man who was perceived as a genius and had built an entire city from the ground up, Miguel sure felt like a fish out of water. So out of his element. He hadn’t shared this level of closeness with anyone in years.

But slowly, he managed to place one hand to the back of your head while the other pulled you closer, in the hopes that you would find safety and comfort in his embrace.

“Thank you.”

A few hours ago, he was humping his pillow thinking of you, fully drunk in your scent. Now, something else filled him.

Anger.

Rage.

No… there was no doubt whoever this Tom individual was that he had left a mark on you. And he couldn’t stand seeing his sweet girl like this.

He had to find out what had happened and what he had done to his sweet girl.

He would find him and he would break him if he had to.

Your tears were wetting his suit, and he had to muster all his willpower not to bolt into your dimension in search of him.

The fingers on your back caressed you slowly, lulling you into a comfortable position.

“I’m here for you.”

He felt your arms tighten around him, and he heard a sob. “Can… can you sing something?”

“What?”

“It distracts me…”

He felt puzzled at first, but he did want to help you. “Uh… anything?”

You nodded with a sniffle.

“Okay… uh… the itsy bitsy spider craw-”

You broke into a laughter. “Seriously?”

He felt his lips turn into a warm smile, as he kept rubbing your back.

Slowly, you loosened your grip around him and tilted your head to stare at him, chin resting on his chest with a sweet smile.

It had worked.

“You have such pretty eyes,” you whispered.

On impulse, he brushed his thumb along your cheek, wiping away a few teardrops.

His eyes then fell to your lips as they parted slightly, and he brought the thumb to brush along them, enjoying the softness and how your breath came out in shallow pants.

His sweet girl…

How he really wanted to—

And then his watch stared beeping, cutting the moment short.

Of course.

You jolted and he bent his arm and glared, as spider-byte’s hologram emerged. “Boss, Jessica has found subject A on Earth-2848.”

Fuck.

You immediately tore from him, wiping away the remnants of your tears.

“My Earth? What happe-”

He quickly cut you off. “Send me the file.”

Margo glanced briefly at you. “Uploading the file, boss.”

Miguel immediately terminated contact, and the hologram dissolved. He was then met with your questioning face

“Is it an anomaly? Is everything okay?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “We are just tracking some unusual activity.”

He didn’t want to lie to you.

But you had left him no choice.

He had to know who Tom was.

For you.

“I’m taking care of it,” he tried to reassure again.

You didn’t seem all that convinced, but didn’t insist.

Instead, you took a few steps back, and he felt your warmth painfully leave him at once.

He could get used to it so easily.

Then, he glared down at the screen of his watch, waiting for the file to be ready.

“Hey, Miguel?”

79%

Almost there.

“Miguel?”

His gaze remained fixed. “Hmm?”

“Do you think you can unlock my suit settings?”

That made him snap his head to glare at you.

What?

You were holding your pad, extending it to him. “I’ve been getting this weird interference in my suit,” you sniffled, eyes still puffy from crying. “I wanted to troubleshoot, but it doesn’t let me access the settings.”

Of course not. He had made sure of that.

But something else began looming over him… “What kind of interference?”

You shrugged, tapping the screen. “Static, I think? I only hear it from time to time, though.”

Miguel’s heart instantly dropped, Lyla’s words of caution ringing inside his head: “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

No, no, no…

“So… can you let me in?”

The mic.

Fuck.

Part 5

Masterlist

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara fanfiction

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shower-phantom-ideas · 2 months

Text

Batman figures out Dannys secret identity but the thing is that hes not in the system. Like any system. His face isnt a match for anyone in any database anywhere??!?! This needs investigation. So someone bumps into him for some dna. Which turns out wasn’t even needed because he got stabbed while defending Damian so we got fresh blood samples now baby! But nothing. Not even a relative or anything.

What they do learn is that he just started appearing on cameras a little over 6months ago but before that? Nothing. And he doesn’t seem to be any older than 15 (hes 16 and a half fuck you batman) but how could someone so young be so hidden in the system. Hell even in paper records they can’t find anything in him.

Maybe Bruce can vent to his Justice League friends…. No who am I kidding man would rather die then that. Probably Red Robin (yum) who gets to vent to his friends. Anyway I just need Clark added to the mix because I want him to think Danny isnt human. Boiz heart isnt going fast enough. If it’s going at all. Holy shit Bruce is that a ghost?? Ahh a ghost! … ok wait I hear a beat phew not a ghost. But he might need medical help.

Oo maybe now we have something. A reason hes not jn any record. He might be a testtube baby. Look at how scrawny and guarded he is. Aww B he might have been some sort of labrat. Oh we gotta help him out. He hardly gets any social interactions so it totally makes sense. Look at him B he doesn’t even run from Joker (I hardly know her). We have to protect this poor lost child.

Oh lord now the batclan is spiralling with crazy theories about him.

Do you think Danny would know too? Like maybe hes watching all the nonsense unfold. Or hes trying very hard to convince the bats that no hes just a normal human 16 year old. Like he ho la di da look at me just a normal kid doing normal kid things.

#danny phantom #dp x dc #dpxdc #I have to go back to work now bye bye #I have more thoughts kn this but im out of time #oops im actually late #wish I had time to tag

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chuluoyi · 2 months

Note

Satoru makes fun of the reader's pregnancy weird cravings. Reader gets upset because they are hormonal. They give him cold shoulder . In the end, he tries those weird (vomit-inducing) cravings of reader and sings praises about how great they are.

“cucumber and wasabi…?” satoru looked at you as if you’re crazy—because actually, you might be ever since his baby starts growing inside you, he’s turning into you a food conventioneer.

and your latest convention is combining fresh cucumber and wasabi. freaking wasabi.

“yeah. it's tasty. true authentic wasabi taste makes it better.” you shrugged with total innocence. you only blink back at him as you munch on that cucumber-wasabi combo.

he barks a laugh, totally thinking you’ve lost it. “that’s like the weirdest thing i’ve heard—”

but then you shoot him a look, aghast. “are you calling me a weirdo?” and seeing the hurt flashing on your face, satoru immediately backtracks.

“nono, i mean—wasabi can’t be good for our baby! it’s spicy—”

“you’re… calling me a freak?”

“no! no!!”

“our baby wants to eat this, you know?” your eyes begin to water as you touch your burgeoning belly, and satoru winced when he sees your lips quiver. “you’re… you’re so mean! don’t talk to me anymore!”

“wait! no! darling—noooo!”

you’re giving him the silent treatment for the next four hours, and satoru has enough of it. he has to get back to your good graces fast, no matter how faultless he was before, because you’re visibly upset and he hates seeing that.

and so he braves himself. he hates wasabi way more than he hates principal gakuganji, but here he stands before you with cucumber smeared with wasabi in hand.

“sweetheart, look—”

“go away!”

“wait! i’m taking back what i said, okay? here it’s—”

you turn to him and let out a gasp when you see him actually swallowing the cucumber-wasabi.

“t-this… is g-good!” he manages to say through burning throat and watery eyes. if it’s for you and his unborn child, he’ll do it, no matter how nasty it is. “y-you’re right! it’s n-not weird at all!”

“oh my god satoru! stop! you can’t eat spicy things!”

“urk—cough! cough! cough!”

and yeah, moral of the story is… he is just soft for you that he’s willing to turn stupid because of it 💁🏻‍♀️

#let us make gojo suffer through this pregnancy journey🤭#—chu’s mailbox 📬#—headcanons☁️#𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠

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onlyswan · 3 months

Text

summary: in which you sacrifice your strawberries and eyelash wishes for the boy knocking at your door.

idol!jungkook x reader, strangers to friends (?) to lovers / fluff and a pinch of angst / word count: 5.5k

content/warnings: allusions to death and grief / jungkook is a cutie patootie and a blushing hopeless romantic mess / he wants to kiss oc so bad (me too bro) / oc is a sunshine <3 / they do chores and watch movies together :((( / in one scene he was worried oc would think of him as a perv lmao / they’re dorks and i love them / seokjin cameo hehehe

> in which masterlist!

note: to make up for the pain i may have caused and will cause <3 LOL. i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing :D as always reblogs and feedback are appreciated! come chat w me. ily 🌼

—

“it’s so cold,” you mutter through chattering teeth.

the grocery bags sit on the hardwood table with a thud— the careless bringer too hasty. you shove your icy hands in the deep pockets of your jacket, breathing in and out with a sense of relief.

you are not granted the mundane euphoria for much longer, however. the doorbell rings and you are padding across the floor against your will. the cold air hits your face before it enters your apartment.

however, the happy smile that greets you blankets your heart with a type of warmth that is difficult to describe.

if you had to guess who was behind the door, you wouldn’t say the boy you’ve been fiercely pining over for the past month, but it is certainly who you’d be hoping for regardless.

“good morning!”

“oh! wait there for a moment!”

jungkook stands motionless by your open front door as you disappear into your apartment. confusion accompanied by curiosity, he tries poking his head inside, but then decides that he shouldn’t.

upon your return, his face lights up again.

“here you go!”

he accepts the jar of honey faster than he could think.

“w-why are you-?”

you tilt your head, lips forming a small pout. “isn’t that what you’re here for?”

“uh, actually-” he awkwardly pauses, hand that carries the heavy paper bag behind him suddenly feeling weak. “i came here to give you something.”

your eyes animatedly expand in surprise of the size of it, not at all expecting to receive a gift from him today. you do know that he’s fresh from japan, as you converse on the phone almost everyday… why would he come here almost immediately? and didn’t he say they weren’t given the chance to roam the city because of their work schedule?

“i just grabbed things i thought you might like. i hope i got most of them right?” he explains with a nervous chuckle as you take a look inside.

a diverse array of snacks; a beautiful journal painted with cherry blossoms; a hello kitty plushie; stickers, muji pens…

“oh my god, jungkook… these are too much. you didn’t have to.”

oh, curse the hopeless fluttering of your heart.

“wow, gifting your merch- that’s real idol behavior for you.” you tease him, referring to the hooded jacket that has their group logo on its plastic packaging. “thank you!”

“no but it seriously warms you up! i have one too!”

“jungkook, why are you so cute?!”

“ah, shut up! i’m getting embarrassed!” he whines, blushing. “just look at them later after i leave, how about that?”

“let go! it’s mine!” you glare at him, hugging the paper bag to your chest to deny his advances on snatching it away. “are you not leaving? don’t you have work?”

“i told you— it’s my rest day.”

“you did?”

“while we were texting last night.”

“oh,” you blink. “i don’t remember reading that.”

“you? what are you doing today?”

you bite back the smile threatening to give away the thoughts running in your mind a thousand miles per hour. why does he want to know?

“nothing special. just chores the entire day.”

jungkook puts his hand inside the pocket of his coat, an attempt to appear casual as he offers you his valiant effort. “do you want some help? i’m good at doing chores.”

you stare at him, perplexed, as if he just said the most ridiculous sentence you’ve ever heard in your entire life.

“it’s your rest day and you want to do chores?”

“sure,” he grins playfully, not at all seeing how that could be wrong. “why not?”

“you know…” you pause— observing his expression, considering shutting your mouth, but that plan rarely ever works out. “you can just say that you want to spend time with me, right?”

your bluntness sends his heart racing. you’re a danger to his health.

he sinks his perfect teeth on his bottom lip, bringing his dimples into view. to be honest, you didn’t always have a thing about dimples. you didn’t consider them all that special. but why do they make him look cute and sexy at the same time?

his cheeks become tinted with a pale scarlet. you’re wearing that friendly beam again; he doesn’t know how to act. he never knows whether you are joking or not.

“well, now i know.”

—

jungkook sets down the jar of honey on the table as he settles in the living room, fascinated doe eyes darting around every inch of your place. it’s not his first time here, but somehow, it looks different each time. the two frames hanging above the sofa captures his attention all over again, colorful drawings against the plain white wall. gifted to you by your siblings, you said.

a tall castle with a happy family. a little boy slaying a dragon to protect a princess from its savage fire.

he is blissfully unaware of the knowledge that the drawings are the lone survivors of a school bus and a tragedy. you want it to stay that way. you want people to feel the opposite of the sadness you feel when you look at them. that is how you seek your peace.

“are you wearing toe socks?”

“huh?” he makes a sound of confusion, only processing your question upon seeing your gaze trained to his feet. “ah- toe socks- yes.”

“i’m only noticing them now. they look funny.” you scrunch your nose, chuckling.

“don’t laugh! they’re so comfortable!”

“really?” your eyes widen with genuine interest. “i should try them then.”

“yeah, you should!”

he whips his head around as he jokingly voices out an observation.

“but ____, your house kind of looks different today… it’s almost like it’s cleaner than the last time i was here.”

you bury your face in your hands with a high-pitched wine, hiding from him in humiliation. you did not plan on inviting someone over that night, and he had to watch you run around organizing and picking up things— the scattered books all over the table and the floor; the jackets that have created a big heap on the small couch; the jewelry box that ended up on the dining table for some reason.

he laughs in endearment, unable to take his eyes from you. even the way your hair bounces as you furiously shake your head is pretty. wait, does that sound weird?

“that’s right, it should look different! the first thing i did when winter break started was clean up my mess.”

“what’s the first chore on the list then?” he catches the grocery bags in the kitchen from his peripheral. “were you putting away your groceries?”

“you really want to do chores? you don’t want to watch a movie or something?”

“aigoo, it’s fine!” he waves off your reluctance. “stop worrying! i already said i’d help you.”

“but it’s embarrassing…”

it’s either jungkook is denying your advances or he is simply dense. but the fact that he showed up at your door unannounced on his day-off despite complaining about his exhaustion from their hectic work schedule, you want to lean towards the latter and believe that he is… as good at chores like he claims to be.

“you must like fruits a lot.” jungkook comments as he is squatted infront of your fridge, sheltering the freshly bought perishables one by one.

kimchi, lettuce, strawberries, tangerines, shine muscat, apples…

this is an entirely different world through your lens.

it feels strange to watch another person restock your fridge for you.

“they’re easy to eat and i’m lazy to cook.”

he chuckles as he looks back at you, who is sat on the dining table, airy and carefree as you snack on a bag of assorted chocolates from the paper bag he brought. almost all of the white chocolates are gone, he notes.

“not because they’re nutritious?”

“that’s the bonus!”

“what is this?”

“cranberry juice.”

“and this?”

“oyster sauce.”

you energetically hop off the table, an idea lighting up the bulb in your mind.

“i have another recipe for you. french toast with strawberries, then drizzle some of the honey. should i make it for you?”

“ah!” he gasps as if he is in pain, but the truth is his mouth is watering. he hasn’t eaten breakfast, and he wanted to eat more for dinner last night but sleep proved to be much more enticing than food. “that sounds so good! i’m starving!”

“stand up!” you begin pulling at the back of his sweater, forcing him to remove himself from the floor. “i’ll make it! just go relax in the living room, okay?”

“but you just said you’re lazy to cook.” he tilts back his head, meeting your gaze. “i’ll help you.”

“i’m not lazy when it becomes to being a host.”

you bend down with a sweet smile, merely inches away from him, and jungkook swears the earth has stopped spinning on its axis. your face is natural and bare, except for the sheen of lip balm across your lips— and dear heavens, having you this close, you are so breathtakingly beautiful.

“they’re playing christmas movies on channel 36.” you announce, giving him the bag of chocolates. “and the remote is… somewhere on the sofa… or maybe the floor.”

and as he gets practically kicked out of the kitchen, your hands roughly pushing his back, he daydreams of kissing you and tasting sugar on your lips.

—

the sweet, addicting smell of the french toast— strong hints of butter and cinnamon— invades every corner of your apartment. consequently, it also compels jungkook to break your rules and insert himself in the kitchen again.

“you never give up, do you?”

“i don’t,” he agrees, nodding eagerly. he has successfully stolen the task of washing the strawberries, and then slicing them after. he endures the freezing water rendering his hands numb. “it’s a known fact.”

“are you saying i should study harder?” you cross your arms, expression painted with faux vexation.

“yes! exactly!” he humors you, grinning of amusement. “what’s my favorite color?”

you sigh, looking at him from head to toe.

“anyone can guess that from a mile away, jungkook.”

“fuck, okay. that’s fair!”

the sound of his laughter reminds of you reasons to stay through the cycle of the seasons. you don’t understand why, but for some reason, it has finally begun to feel like christmas. the only comfort that comes along with the cruel winter that nips at your skin; the blanket over your heart that provides a type of warmth one can travel to seek but will never be able to find alone.

“what’s my height then?”

“aren’t you six feet?”

the silence that follows is an answer enough for you. the noise of the television emerges now that none of you is talking. he pretends to be too busy to speak, transferring the strawberries over to the chopping board.

“yes, you’re ri-”

“liar!” you point an accusatory finger at him.

and he winces, guilty as charged.

“you hesitated!”

“tsk, i should’ve said yes faster! i wanted to experience what it’s like to be tall!” he regretfully purses his lips, eyebrows knitted as if he just lost the lottery. “but haven’t you read it online? even my shoe size and weight are there.”

“what? why do people even need to know that…?” you exclaim, flabbergasted. “i mean- of course i’ve searched up your name, but it feels like cheating on a test. does that sound silly…? it’s just more fun learning about you from you.”

you briefly walk away to grab a bottle of water from the fridge, and jungkook is left at the counter with fondness blossoming in his chest, bleeding into the chopped strawberries staining his hands red.

he calls out your name.

“mhmm?” you hum in question, muffled by the water in your mouth.

“want to hear a fact about me?”

you wipe your lips with the back of your hand, eyes expanding with fueled interest. “what?”

“i’m actually very good in the kitchen.” he boasts his skills with the kitchen knife, quick and precise, the blade against the wood creating the satisfying click you usually only hear from cooking shows. “are you seeing this? huh…? what do you think?”

“so i’ve noticed. i want something new!”

at that, his shoulder sags in disappointment. to his demise, there goes another failed attempt at making you acknowledge that he is boyfriend material.

“what do you want to know? ask me questions.”

“what’s your ideal type?”

being in your presence for the past hour has gotten jungkook re-adjusted to your personality— straight-forward, bold, smart— so vivacious that it’s dizzying. you make him nervous and comfortable at the same time, and he doesn’t quite know how to explain it either. but you’re a breath of fresh air, the change that he has been anticipating to disrupt his routine.

“why do you want to know that?”

you shrug coyly, smiling like the troublesome vixen that you are. you rather enjoy the tension that has hung in the air. if you’ve learned something from the past: men are easy to get, not easy to keep. because they relish in the chase, getting strung along like this. so, shouldn’t you have your fun too? but even if jungkook’s intentions were pure, you can only imagine that seeing someone whose life revolves around their career is… the perfect recipe for disaster.

“i think who you like also says a lot about who you are as a person.”

“i like someone who is kind and funny…” he hums in thought, unconsciously slotting a piece of strawberry in between his lips. “and passionate about the things they love… mhmm, someone who can be honest with me.”

his words form a constellation named after you, unbeknownst to you, and he wants to say more but anticipating what comes next after you connect the dots makes his stomach twist. he doesn’t feel like an adult yet. he’s still just a young boy with a gorgeous crush and high ambitions that coalesce in his dreams.

“i like someone who has a really pretty smile, too.”

and he should probably stop staring, erase the dumb lovesick smile on his face. for fuck’s sake, it would be easier for him if you would just do the same. behind the sparkles of your eyes, there is something he’s been dying to decipher.

“okay, why are you looking at me like that?”

because you are so pretty, especially when you smile.

“nothing,” he replies innocently. “you? what’s your ideal type? who do you like?”

“i don’t know… no one has captured my heart yet. they’re not trying hard enough!”

every romance you’ve had so far has been a letdown.

“but i’m still looking. i’m young, and hot, and the universe is vast.”

“mhm, i see… that’s true, but maybe… you don’t want to be looking too far.” jungkook suggests.

you smirk. “so you agree that i’m hot?”

“you know. you don’t need me to say it.” he chuckles, shaking his head.

“but i want to hear you say it.”

“you’re very beautiful, ____.”

“but that’s not-”

“the food is ready! let’s eat it before it gets cold!”

he runs to the living room without waiting for you, and you seize the opportunity to squeal without a sound, punching the counter without actually punching— releasing the giddiness threatening to spill from the seams of your heart.

you don’t know if this is heading somewhere, nor do you expect it to, but where you are right now is a good place to be.

—

the movie playing on the screen has become more of a white noise to you, a family comedy far less fascinating compared to jungkook drizzling honey over strawberries and bread from a spoon. you wonder if he is aware how often he creates sound effects while he is doing something.

beside you, his body quakes with cackles during the scenes that an editor would definitely insert the classic sound of an audience’s collective laughter and holler. you stumble upon the understanding that his happiness lies in a myriad of things, and you would envy him for it if not for the fact that he is currently sharing that happiness with you. you laugh when he laughs, and being becomes a little less heavier at that moment.

another commercial break rudely interrupts and jungkook turns towards you. the two of you sit cross-legged, knees knocking against each other as you occupy nearly the entire sofa.

“hi!”

“hi.”

“what are your plans for the holidays?”

“my best friend’s family invited me to stay with them for christmas until the new year. it’s kind of been a tradition since…”

the end of your sentence hangs suspended in the air. you still can’t say it out loud.

jungkook knows they’re gone and you’re alone: only the plain and brutal truths.

the reminder that this is the third christmas you will not spend with your family; the thought that this would be the third christmas they would spend without you if the afterlife was real— they bring tears to your eyes at once, but you forcibly blink them away, shoving enthusiasm down your throat.

“how about you?” you take a bite from your toast, attempting to divert your thoughts to… anything else. “are you coming home?”

you hide so well behind a smile. it doesn’t occur to jungkook that his question rubbed salt on an open wound.

“i miss my mom but i can’t go home yet.” he pouts. “i have work on christmas day as usual. we’ve been preparing hard for it.”

“oh, that’s right! gayo daejeon?!”

he nods in confirmation.

the music festival has been an annual event for his group since they debuted, and he never feels the need to complain because not everyone is given this kind of opportunity. what’s extraordinary for most has become his ordinary, and what was once his ordinary like everybody else’s has simply become a thing of the past. nevertheless, he does not have regrets. he is living a good life, one that he believes is his fate. as long as he has a voice and it is being heard, then his existence has meaning.

“your family will surely watch you, so they’re still celebrating it with you in a way. making them proud is the best christmas gift you can give!”

and right now, in his life, you are the cherry on top. you were so cheerful and supportive about the final shows of their tour as well, raving about how amazing it is to perform three nights in a row at gocheok skydome.

“i’ll watch you too!”

he can’t help it— you’re driving him to be better at what he does. childishly, he wants show off and be the one to capture your heart.

“ah!” he groans. “that means i should work harder at practice tomorrow! i can’t mess up infront of you and my family!”

“why not me? you want to make me proud too?” you interrogate him jokingly.

“of course, it’s my job. it’s what i do best. i’ll make you see!”

“use me as motivation then. you can’t mess up, okay? you have to do well, jungkook! you better not make a mistake! my eyes will be focused on you only!”

his face is reminiscent of a deer caught in the headlights— the headlights being your wide, threatening eyes.

he releases a shaky sigh in dramatic fashion. “i don’t feel motivated, though? i’m getting pressured?”

you wheeze; the plate over your lap tilts along with its contents.

“this is tough love!”

jungkook nearly staggers to his feet. “…love?”

you roll your eyes, small corners of your lips still cheekily lifted. “was the french toast good?”

jungkook is interrupted before he can form a response.

“but if it tastes like shit, just lie to me!”

“what are you talking about?!”

oh my god, you’re too fucking good at making him laugh.

“you’re eating it too! you know it’s delicious!”

“maybe you got a bad batch!”

—

“i’m going to the laundry shop across the street. i’ll just be a minute.” you announce, hauling a laundry basket to the living room.

your strained grunts prompt jungkook to look up from his phone, and eventually to stand up with urgency and relieve you of your heavy, heavy burden.

“shit, how heavy is this?”

you’re not given a chance to protest as the basket is immediately stolen from your grasp; your lips part open but no words come out.

“i’ll come with you!”

“well, hopefully not more than twelve kilos.”

it’s definitely heavier than usual; mainly comprised of the thick and layered clothes you’ve been wearing to shield yourself from the unforgiving cold.

“let’s go.”

jungkook wraps his hand around your wrist, gently tugging. the butterflies in your stomach wakes up earlier than spring’s arrival.

“this thing is bigger than you.”

an extremely obvious exaggeration.

“i’ll be the one to carry it.“

—

jungkook wears a cap and a face mask underneath his hoodie, eyes barely even visible in his all-black getup for the public to see; and somehow you also find yourself with a scarf around your neck, pulled up over the bridge of your nose.

when the year 2017 rolled in, you predicted that more crazy, life-altering stuff would happen. it has been an on-going theme, a relentless domino effect that has brought you to your knees time and time again. but you never would’ve fucking imagined that this is how you would be wrapping it up. how the hell did you cross paths with a famous idol, and why is he carrying your laundry basket right now?

“wait here for a bit.” you bring both hands to the basket’s handles, coaxing him to let go. “i’ll just bring it inside.”

“are you only dropping it off? that’s expensive!”

“what?” you stare at him in bewilderment, not expecting him to utter such statement at all. “you’re talking like you’re not rich!”

“i’m not! and still,” jungkook becomes flustered underneath his disguise. “it’s good to be practical. anyway, we have a lot of time.”

“you sound more like a mom than my mom did.”

“shhh!” he shushes you, putting a finger over his face mask. “let’s just do your laundry ourselves.”

“why would you do laundry right now? you’re supposed to be resting in the first place!”

a tug of war ensues infront of the laundry shop. strangers doesn’t know better. you look like a married couple bickering over who should take responsibility of the chore.

“____, just let me, mhm? i’m a pro at doing laundry too! we’ll be done before you know it!”

“how are you good at everything? honestly, it sounds like a scam!”

“how dare you doubt me?” he gasps in offense. “i do my own laundry!”

“seriously?” you quirk an eyebrow.

“i’m serious!”

“i don’t think i believe you, though…”

“if you search online, you-” your voice echoes in his mind, and subsequently, jungkook cuts himself off.

‘it feels like cheating on a test. it’s more fun learning about you from you.’

“oh, nevermind. let’s go inside already. i’m freezing!”

“jungkook!” you whine, stomping your feet on the ground as you refuse to let go of the basket despite jungkook beginning to head inside.

“why?” he copies the childishness of your tone, and although you can’t see his face, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes tell you enough.

“we can’t…”

the adorable sight of you appearing to be so shy is foreign to him. he can’t help but to chuckle. “why not?”

your lips form a pout.

“my panties…”

you bring a finger to point at the basket.

“they’re in there too… i was only going to drop them off today because you came with me…”

“ah…” jungkook awkwardly freezes, unblinking. “wait, you’re right?”

why didn’t he think of that? he’s a fucking idiot. of fucking course. what if you take things the wrong way and you’re creeped out by him now?!

“fuck, sorry. i’m sorry. i wasn’t- um, i swear i wasn’t trying to…”

his tongue becomes tied, struggling to search for the words that won’t make him sound like a damn pervert.

yeah, way to go, jungkook. you’re not the fucking boyfriend yet and you’re ruining your chances.

“did i make you uncomfortable? i’m sorry. it probably looked li-”

“hey, breathe, calm down. it’s alright, jungkook.”

you giggle in amusement, placing a hand over his chest— his heart. it’s meant to ease him, but the knowledge that you’re feeling his racing heartbeat only causes it to further intensify. he swallows the lump in his throat, dumbfounded by the turn of events. he wants the ground to swallow him whole, but he also wants to stay in this moment a little while longer.

“it’s alright. i’ll go bring this inside then i’ll treat you to lunch at the restaurant over there! don’t run away from me, okay?”

—

“the yukgaejang looks good.” you utter absentmindedly, admiring the spicy beef soup with plentiful vegetables from afar. “i’m jealous of you.”

the other tables are already having a feast while you and jungkook are waiting for your take-out to be prepared.

“then you should’ve ordered it too.” jungkook scolds you lightheartedly. “should i go?”

“no! i’m not good with spicy food. spice makes me cry.”

he smiles softly. once again, you complete the picture from his eyes. “what is there to frown so sadly about?”

“i feel like i’m missing out.” you complain, the pout on your face almost permanent. “spicy food is like one of the trademarks of korea, you know? but i can’t handle it!”

“so cute…” jungkook has decided to give in to his impulses, it seems— the evidence is him pinching your cheek for the very first time, and with the discovery of its delightsome softness, it will definitely not be the last.

“oh, oh, oh! an eyelash!”

his doe eyes glisten with pure wonder and excitement, and the air in your lungs becomes suspended when his hand moves to tenderly cup the side of your face. as he is absorbed in capturing the tiny eyelash that has fallen and glued itself on your cheek, your mind reels with the size of his hand, the sensation of his innocent touch against your neck.

“aaand-” jungkook takes your hand, passing on the eyelash to your index finger. “there you go. make a wish!”

your eyes flicker down, and none of you speaks for a moment or two.

a wish…?

what does one wish for when they have given up on wishing for miracles?

“did you do it?”

you peek at jungkook, nodding. at last, you blow the eyelash away, outside the window, where it becomes one with the snowflakes that came from the same sky where wishes are supposedly granted.

“what did you wish for?”

“i’ll tell you when it comes true.”

—

jungkook eats so well— you feel full just by watching him eat. so when he asked you, eyebrows knitted and legs bouncing, if he could have more rice, you were left with no choice but to plug in the rice cooker for the second time today. you cooked only enough for two meals today: brunch and dinner for one. you’re more than happy to have given him the dinner portion. you like that your apartment is providing warmth for another soul, despite the old times that it housed ones that ended up haunting you.

“are there any more chores to do? while we wait for the rice?”

you gaze switches from him to the living room.

the boy who was knocking at your door is now vacuuming your floors.

you sit on the couch with your legs hugged to your chest, chin propped on your knees. an unexplainable feeling swims in your chest, but your heart calls to welcome it. not to be delusional, but technically, isn’t this a marriage proposal?

it falls on dear ears— the infuriating sound of the cheap vacuum cleaner your landlord lended you and never came back for. underneath it is jungkook’s mellifluous voice, humming and singing, and it’s all you can hear.

the only use you knew of honey is the magic it does with tea for a sore throat. when you learned about his demanding occupation, he is all you can think of in relation to the elixir. since then, you’ve been taking the god awful amount of honey your pesky neighbor provides without any complaints.

this is nice… this is good. you are glad that you opened the door.

—

after a hearty and satisfying meal, you and jungkook retired to your previous spots infront of the television screen. more of the snacks he bought for you ended up being shared. near your stacks of books are colorful food wrappers and half-empty glasses of water. two mediocre yet entertaining movies later, you tell jungkook that you should pick up your laundry before the shop closes in an hour. however, after he has excused himself to the bathroom, he is greeted by the sight of you peacefully asleep on the sofa.

once more, a new side of you is laid bare, and his affection grows. he doesn’t know when he can admire your face this close again without melting from your stare.

heedful of disturbing your much deserved rest, he carefully places a pillow beneath your head, and he pulls down the blanket you’re wrapped in to cover your cold feet.

with one last stolen glimpse, he grabs your key and receipt from the bowl and leaves.

—

“is it time for you to leave?” you delicately rub at your eyes that are still half-closed; voice quiet, barely there.

you were awoken by the front door opening and closing, but nothing has quite registered to your fuzzy brain yet, except for the coat that you neatly kept and is already re-worn by its owner.

and he knows you’re most probably just sleepy, but the way you’re gazing at him as if you’re sad to see him go makes his heart clench.

“no, i picked up your laundry.” he enlightens you, consciously speaking with refined tenderness, as to preserve the serenity that has enveloped the atmosphere. “i can stay until eight. is that okay?”

you release a weary sigh, nodding. “of course… and you’re such a nice friend, thank you.”

he plops down on the sofa, filling the jungkook-shaped space beside you.

tired… you’re so tired… despite the given privilege to finally sleep to your heart’s content, you’re still so tired. your forehead lands softly on his shoulder, and unbeknownst to you due to your stupor, jungkook’s breath hitches— the polar opposite of the steady rise and fall of your chest. you make him swoon. he deliberately ignores the fact that you just called him a friend.

you peer down at the floor, past the curtain of your disheveled hair, slowly blinking. those ridiculous toe socks… you giggle in secret.

“jungkook?”

“yes?”

“are you cold?”

“freezing.”

you lift your head and he knows— you have to be playing games with his heart, bringing the temptation to kiss you so painfully close. “do you want some tea?”

—

the performance has commenced but the passionate screams of the audience still rings in jungkook’s ears as he runs backstage, chased by the staff attempting to wipe the sweat he is practically bathing in. he squeezes one eye shut as beads of sweat threaten to enter it. his chest heaves with exhaustion and his heart pumps with overwhelming adrenaline. most of the time, this job doesn’t feel real. he feels high. this is the textbook definition of a dream.

“where’s my phone? please? does anyone have it?” he yells in the midst of the chaos and clamor as he completely strips off his in-ears.

a hand reaches towards him with the device, and his expression of gratitude gets lost somewhere among the repetitive reminders of the remaining time before they should have returned to their designated seats.

he allows the hair and make-up stylists to do their jobs, him as their doll in need of a retouch. on the other hand, he impatiently waits for his phone to power on.

the tapping of jungkook’s foot ceases, and from his glowing reflection on the vanity mirror, the clueless people surrounding him witnesses love strike.

guess my eyelash wish worked like a charm. your performances went really well

and you looked so cool on stage ☺️

merry christmas jungkook ❤️

“jungkook-ah, what are you smiling at?!”

seokjin cackles. jungkook didn’t even notice him roll his chair so close. he then decides to play dumb to tease their youngest one.

“wow, who is this ____ you’re texting?”

“hyung!” jungkook panics, hissing underneath his breath. “lower your voice!”

“ouch!” seokjin yells, rubbing his arm that was hit as a punishment.

he allows a moment of silence.

his expression goes blank and he avenges himself.

“ah!” jungkook gasps as the slap on his thigh resonates, forced to be ripped away from overthinking a text message. “hyung! you better start running!”

Draft: i know it’s late.. but can i see you later?|

—

taglist in the reblogs! send an ask/dm if you want to be added (or removed) :D

—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook one shot #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook x you #jungkook x reader #bts fluff #bts reaction #jungkook smut

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iceunhie · 11 days

Text

“and i can go anywhere i want just not home” : genshin men

premise. home is where the heart is—perhaps it's why they feel so empty whenever they're away from you. or, what it's like when they miss you while they're/you're away.

featuring: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, neuvillette.

notes: gn!reader (you/your pronouns), welcome to the depths of my drafts, you can tell where i got lazy and when i got motivated tbh 💀 an attempt at humor (i am unfunny) reblogs are appreciated! like usual, might make a part 2 idk

...alternative title: 3 twinks and a dragon

NEUVILETTE: wait, why's it raining so hard?! 😱 “oh, it's just the monsieur sulking ^^”

neuvilette finds that one of the most inconvenient things granted in his power is the fact that his emotions can be broadcasted live over fontaine at any given moment.

subsequently, it's pouring; buckets of rain that clearly weren't on the daily weather report yesterday. he can see parents ushering children into their homes, the melusines providing umbrellas to those who had the unfortunate problem of not bringing one at the side.

all in all, fontaine is as is, but neuvilette feels even emptier than before.

it's probably because of you. it's definitely because of you. as fleeting as the rain on a summer day, you'd come and went, wishing him well before you'd leave for liyue for a short vacation.

2 weeks....

(the rain showers even more, heavily pouring over the nation.)

his shoulders tighten uncharacteristically, and if you were to see him, you'd tell him he'd resemble a sad fontainian otter with its seashell taken away.

. . . .

BONUS:

"i'm back- GAH! why are the streets flooded?!"

"oh, mx. [name]! welcome back! i'll tell monsieur neuvillette that you're back now!"

two hours later, the sun shines back again as if it hadn't poured consistently during the entire duration of 2 weeks. the people of fontaine rejoice.

KAZUHA: like a bird longing for the sun to shine again (the most normal) 😭

kazuha isn't the type to brood. he isn't, because he knows he has nothing to brood about. well, most of the time, anyway.

this, however, is partly because you're usually with him, you in all your glory, nourishing him with affectionate kisses and letting him feel the breath of fresh air he desperately needs after a long, enduring trip on the crux.

the days you aren't there however are the days he finds himself most appreciative of his reclusive nature. as the rock of the ship against gentle waters make it sway, kazuha thinks of you.

you, you. were you at liyue, doing well as he hopes you always are, trudging away as you work wonders in the kitchen, preparing meals and watching day turn to night, waiting for time to pass, missing him too?

he hopes you are. (he feels like every time you're gone, a part of him can't erase the sense of homesickness. even if liyue wasn't his home, you are the closest to it.)

"you look a bit blue these days, kazuha. missing a certain someone?" a certain captain guffaws, to which the white haired vagrant can only smile to, though the smile betrays his rather dour mood. beidou's tease is only indicative of his longing.

he does miss you. a whole lot. he misses the way you run up to him as he finally steps off the crux's arms, embracing you with fervor and inhaling the cool scent of your hair. only then, kazuha thinks, he could really feel at home. "only a fool wouldn't miss the one they hold most dear to them."

beidou pats him on the back, sympathetic of his plight. he feels a bit embarrassed. beidou always saw through him. "gotta tough it out, kid. just a few more days and we'll be back to liyue in no time."

he wasn't a kid—beidou knows this, but she felt the need to emphasize so, what when kazuha looked akin to a kicked puppy waiting for its owner in the rain. "I'm well aware."

and so she's gone, warbling an old sailor's tune, leaving kazuha to deal with the ache of you behind.

he also misses a lot of things about you whenever you're gone. though temporary as his wanderlust may be, because he promised you—"i will always return to you"—this has brought him to associate everything he sees in your likeness.

is it the poet in him? perhaps. but loving you is as natural as him taking in the sights of nature, as lovely as the moonlit nights he spends, alone, and without you.

tough it out, as beidou says. that's difficult.

watching as the moon seems ever perpetual in the sky, kazuha only hopes he can tough it out well.

(when he comes back, he's thinking of running towards you this time.)

. . . .

"welcome back, kazu-" you don't even make it to the harbor's docks before you're being tackled and literally thrown off your feet. "what the fuck are you doing?!"

or should you say, swept off your feet? you feel every ounce of shame right now, and burying your head in the crook of kazuha's neck. profanity aside, it's hard not to be ashamed when almost every person with a pair of working eyes can see you being carried by your lover.

you can hear the playful whistles and cheers of the crux crew from behind, and beidou's knowing, knowing smile.

"i'm home." kazuha's breath is close to your nape, and you feel the soft press of his lips to your neck. you flush. face him, and you see his dreamy, lovesick eyes.

if he was looking like that, how could you be ashamed? you laugh, even if you see people side eye you into oblivion. brush your noses together, and close your eyes.

"welcome home, kazuha."

he smiles. the day is bright today.

BONUS:

"kazuha?"

"mm, what is it, love?"

"if you do that ever again i will literally drop dead on the floor from the shame, so don't make it a habit."

"haha, i wouldn't dream of it."

(one voyage later, you find out kazuha is a liar.)

LYNEY: 😐 'insufferably insufferable,' given by lynette

if lynette could choose between smelling every perfume in emilie's shop (and put herself through an attack to her very delicate senses) and seeing her brother mope like a deflated balloon over his absence in fontaine, she'd pick the first option.

you are to blame. rather, maybe it's her brother's utter lack of propriety, proclaiming just how much he misses you with almost enough talk to make her want to rip her cat ears out.

or maybe she'd actually claw at him. lyney was just that infuriating. is this what they mean by love changes a person?

(if so, then lynette reckons her twin has changed for the worse.)

okay, she was exaggerating a bit, because she loved you very much and considered you family as well—but she would gladly dropkick lyney any time. they'd been stationed at poisson for a while, set by father. it was cleanup for the remnants of the prophecy, but it provided them sufficient time away from the court of fontaine, away from distractions.

and, in lyney's mind, it also means he's away from you. in lynette's opinion, he should've stayed. that way, she won't get to listen to him prattle on and on about—

"do you think [name] will still love me even if i've been away from them for far too long? ahh, and lynette, these rainbow flowers, do they need a bouquet matching their eyes instead?"

and of course, her brother being the drop-dead love-drunk fool he is (bless your heart for being able to tolerate her sappy and corny brother) has not. stopped. talking. about. you.

you'd probably accept a bouquet with a dead fish in it if it meant lyney gave it to you, but lynette doesn't voice it out. in a corner of her mind, she wonders if she should just actually become a clockwork meka so she could voluntarily tune herself to tune out lyney's voice.

she crosses her arms, putting her (4th) dessert aside. "they'll like anything you give them. and there's no way they'd get sick of you just because we're away for a week, lyney."

her brother sighs, dreamily looking away at the sky. probably thinking about the flutter of your eyelashes and your smile that makes a magician want to bottle it up and never let it show to anyone else—

blergh, she was beginning to let lyney get to her.

"a week is far too long for me." lyney sulks. lynette resists the urge to roll her eyes. you and me both, brother.

"what if they might be in danger somewhere I can't reach?"

but because she's such an amazing sister (factual), she lets go of her temporary reprieve and comforts her utterly hopeless (factual?) brother.

(for your sake too. because lyney has changed. though she may say it's for the worse, that's not true at all. in fact, it's the opposite.)

"relax, lyney." her tone is sincere this time, that in which always gets lyney to look up to her. they're children again, and lynette is facing her older brother, and they're hand in hand together. "[name] will be fine. as long as it's from the heart, you know that they will cherish anything you give them."

because it's you, someone that accepted them, every part of them. lynette doesnt show it much, but it's one of the reasons why she's so fond of you. she grateful, really, that you love her brother.

thankfully, (to her great relief) it seems the hint that you'd rather have him home without anything than not be home at all, has gotten through lyney's mind. he goes silent, and lynette takes it as a successful mission success. another lovesick crisis averted, her brother's relationship with you stabilized.

at last, peace.....

. . . .

"alright then!" lyney says enthusiastically, with an unhappy lynette and a sheepish freminet in tow.

"let's commence operation steal their heart the moment we finish this mission!"

"the what now?"

lynette facepalms. she shouldn't have said anything....

BONUS:

"uh, lynette, what's that?"

"headphones."

"why?"

"....noise cancellation."

freminet looks at lyney, who's pacing around the room, muttering to himself as his grip on the rainbow flower-marcotte bouquet tightens.

"oh." lynette nods at him wearily.

WANDERER: warning! ⚠️do not approach, he bites (scowls) 😨

there are many times when wanderer wants to bash his hat and let it squash the traveller's flying companion, and today was one of those times.

"hey, hat guy! why are you looking even more scary than usual? your scowl can be seen from miles away!"

he can hear her irritatingly cheery voice in the distance, undoubtly exposing him to the eyes of others. damn it.

"paimon, shh...!" aether silently prays to whichever god may hear (hopefully nahida), because for someone so small, wanderer was emitting a very ominous aura not akin to an aura of death.

"quit your nonsense, you-" wanderer barks back, insult at the tip of his tongue, but he tempers his temper (heh), going quiet instead. "forget it. i don't want be pissed off even more from that disgustingly chatty pet of yours."

"what did you just say to me?! urgh, you, you- ugh, paimon can't think of an ugly nickname! help out here, traveller...!"

"i think you should just let it be this time, paimon..."

he ignores the chatter of the two—mortals—thumbing at his vision, and then tenderly at the little doll he's sewed in his likeness, as well as.... your doll.

(you gave it to him once as a keepsake, in exchange for him sewing you the mini him he painstakingly made. when you got your wish, you made the two dolls kiss, saying something so ridiculous as, "that's us now!" his face burned the entire way back home.)

instead, he finds his thoughts lingering to you. you'd seen him off, staying back at sumeru city with nahida as company, leaving him to escort the traveller and paimon to the desert to clear out some ancient ruins. how boring.

you kissed him breathless back there— much to his chagrin at seeing nahida's knowing smile; but he finds himself longing for your voice and your hands in his hair more than ever. at least then he'd be able to solve the ringing in his ears from paimon's voice.

he's long stopped denying his erratic, tumultuous feelings, but he misses you. unbearably, because at least you were better than the two he's forced to babysit accompany.

and he also misses how you would take shelter in his hat in the sweltering desert heat, kissing his cheek when he flew you around to explore the pyramids, and when you would hold his hand as you complained about how long you two would be walking up, all sand and sweaty.

(he'd tease you about leaving you for dead, but was always the first to worry whenever you get dizzy from heat. a walking contradiction, this one.)

"hey, wanderer, you there?"

"you're a little red. are you overheating?woah, so puppets really can do that.... ah, you're spacing out, too!"

ugh. "what am i, a tea kettle?" he scowls, crossing his arms.

he's already counting the days he can finally return to your arms.

paimon stomps her feet at the nonexistent ground, "we're just a tiny bit worried, you know!"

"yeah? well you should do me a favor and shut your mouth a little. otherwise you'll end up overheating from the amount of nonsensical words you spit out."

"this guy's a real piece of work, only being kind to [name], jeez..." to his glee, the pixie mutters angrily. something about being a meanie and insufferable. well deserved.

aether watches the exchange with the soul drained from his body. 800,000 mora, 800,000 mora.....

. . . .

"uh... wanderer?" you chuckle nervously, not knowing where to place your hands as he buries his face head-first into your chest the moment he's home, allowing you to gently caress the soft strands of his hair.

"..."

"so are you gonna talk about it, or?"

"just let me hold you, will you?" he bites, but there's no bite at all. you kiss the top of his head as his ginormous hat is taken off his head completely. he nuzzles deeper into you. "....i missed you."

that shut you up real quick. you try to hide the giddy smile you have, but he lifts his face up to see it anyway.

"i missed you too."

BONUS:

"[name], is that an insect bite on your neck?"

"huh?!"

aether squints at you, "what kind of insect leaves that big of a bite-" his eyes pop out. turns red. "oh."

you look away. one less pure soul in the world.... sorry, aether.

(in a corner of the house of daena, wanderer sneezes.)

more hsr content soon, also for very important reasons: do you think sunday would let you bite the wings by his ears yes or no

#mhie's spirals #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #wanderer x reader #kazuha x y/n #kazuha x reader #neuvillette x reader #neuvilette x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #lyney x reader #genshin drabbles

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studioghibelli · 4 months

Text

bewitched, bothered, bewildered.

a joel miller x reader

summary: after your parents leave on a cruise for winter break, your best friend sarah invites you over to her house for the holidays. she failed to mention her father is the hottest man in the world.

warnings: best friends dad!joel, slight canon divergence as in Sarah is college aged come 2023, a big phat girthed up age gap, alcohol consumption, reader has just gotten out of a relationship, various media references, smut (fingering, female masturbation, f receiving oral, dirty talk, pet names, tiniest sir kink.) mdni!

note: this could be a series. i’m not too sure right now. let me know if you’d be interested in this as multiple parts!

You had never been to Texas before.

Tales of obnoxiously large barbecues, ten gallon hats, and vast, desert plains where rattlesnakes roamed freely filled your mind. Sticky sweet iced tea, kind old women who called everyone “honey”, and dry, arid heat were also things you associated with Texas.

And, sure, Texas was hot and humid as hell.

But it was beautiful.

While the plane made its final descent down to the Austin airport, your eyes took in the most beautiful sunset you had ever gazed upon, never before seeing oranges and reds quite as beautiful. By the time you deplaned, the deep navy of the night sky showcased millions of glimmering stars. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many stars. It must have been ages, but nonetheless they had ignited you with a sense of wonder.

“It’s about an hour, to my place.” Sarah warned, standing by your side as you both waited to catch sight of your luggage.

You nodded a bit, patiently looking to see your dark teal suitcase pass through the conveyor belt.

“Hey,” she nudged you in the side, causing you to glance her way. “Are you still thinking about your ex? Not good for you, so you better stop.”

“What if we were soulmates?” You grumbled, knowing how stupid you sounded. Your shoulders slumped forward. You didn’t actually think that idiot was the person you would spend the rest of your life with, but it was nice to have someone. To have… your person.

“If you two were soulmates, you wouldn’t have been broken up with. Now would you?” Sarah smiled sadly, gently patting your head. “Winter break is a month long. Who knows? Someone here might catch your eye!”

You rolled said eyes at her wiggling brows, grumbling beneath your breath. “Yeah, yeah. Maybe.”

“My dad has loads of hot guys working for him. They stop by the house sometimes, maybe you could…. I don’t know- waltz downstairs wearing a tight shirt and stick your ass out.” She wiggled her butt against you with a faux-seductive dance move.

“Sarah!” You laughed, gently pushing her shoulder.

“Dad says he should be here in about 5 minutes. Oh! There’s our bags.”

You grabbed your luggage in unison, lugging them off the machine before rolling through the crowds of people, no doubt travelling to and fro for the holidays.

“Look for a black Chevy!” She warned as you walked outside.

“I don’t know what that looks like!” You shouted earnestly, over the hustle and bustle of the pick up area.

Sarah looked at you, before rolling her eyes with a laugh. “There he is!” She waved both her hands towards a truck in the distance. You watched as it pulled to the curb, windows tinted black. When the driver door opened you heard Hank Williams crooning from the stereo, still unable to see the figure that was Sarah’s dad.

The shadow on the sidewalk was broad as it made its way towards the two of you, and when you finally dragged your eyes up, you saw Joel Miller in all his glory.

Tall, rugged, a little rough around the edges- but undeniably handsome. He wore a regular tan crew neck underneath a brown flannel, jeans spread out tight against his thick thighs, with the pointed toes of two leather boots sticking out. His dark hair, littered with strands of drool worthy gray, was slicked back from a fresh shower, one stray curl managing to sneak its way out.

And when he stepped closer, you smelled him. God, you smelled him. He wore just the right amount of cologne, and it made your knees weak. Joel smelled like woody vanilla, swirling with cracks of cardamom and whiffs of lavender tinted flowers of iris. You almost moaned. He smelled delicious.

Joel greeted Sarah, but quite honestly you were too overwhelmed to hear anything they were saying. And then he turned to you.

You.

“Hello.” He smiled a bit, eyes glimmering with something you couldn’t quite pin point. “I’m Joel. It’s real nice to have you stayin’ with us.”

You smiled. A real smile. He was kind, too? What a fucking dream. “Thank you.” After telling him your name you went to pick up your luggage, before a hand grabbed your arm gently.

His hand. Well worked, rough, calloused- an honest pair of hands that were scarred by a lifetime of hard work. Honorable hands. Sexy hands.

“There ain’t no way I’m lettin’ a pretty thing like you lift that suitcase all by herself. You’re in Texas now, honey. Don’t you know we practically invented gentlemen down here?” He joked, grabbing your bag and tenderly sitting it down in the bed of his Chevy.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I guess I’ll just let you do everything for me, since you’re a gentleman and such.” You teased. You watched the hint of a smile ghost across his lips.

“Well, you might just have to, darlin’.” With a wink that made your belly tighten, he opened the door for you, and you joined Sarah in the backseat.

“Dad, what the hell are you listening to?”

“Hank Williams.” You both said in unison. He put his eyes on you from the mirror, winking at you.

“Bring this one around more, Sarah. I like her.”

Sarah smiled, looking at you with love sparkling in her eyes. The kind of love that only existed between two bonded women, the kind of love that only two girls in a deep, genuine friendship could share. You smiled, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Dad, you know she just got dumped.”

“Sarah!” You guffawed. And that special moment was over. Tenderness now replaced with annoyance.

“Who got broken up with?”

Sarah nudged her head towards you.

“Her?!” He spoke incredulously. As if Joel could not wrap his head around the idea of someone ever leaving you.

You buried your hot face in your hands, mumbling a bit. “Was a fucking jerk.” You grumbled after a long moment of silence, pulling away from your palms to look out the window, watching the city pass by.

“Must have been, breakin’ your heart.”

“Dad, you have no clue. So it all started-” As Sarah started explaining your past relationship and breakup, you watched the backdrop of Austin rush past your window.

Beautiful buildings shimmering in the night, the distant noise of the city clamoring, vibrant grass and trees scattered about. It was stunning, alive, noisy. It was nothing like what people had described Texas as. And the only person who had called you ‘honey’ so far, was your best friend’s hot dad.

You pulled away from where you looked, coming back in to reality. Sarah was still going on and on with her drama spilling. Joel was still listening, or at least looked like he was listening. His plush lips were cemented into a tight line, eyes dark and focused on the highway ahead. He met your gaze in his rearview mirror once again, and the tightness of his furrowed brow softened momentarily. You offered him a hint of a smile, and he gladly took it.

“So, what’re you majoring in?” He asks you. You didn’t quite catch his question. You were examining how his hands looked around the steering wheel as he turned it, the way the pad of his thumb caressed the leather, the way his thighs looked spread out against the brown of the sleek seat. God. Was it normal to wish you were a fucking steering wheel?

You clenched your thighs together. You wondered if he noticed. He seemed rather perceptive.

“I’m sorry sir, what did you ask, Mr. Miller?”

Joel swallowed thickly, sucking in a sharp breath. “Joel, please. Call me Joel. I asked what you’re studyin’, back at school.”

Sarah laughed a bit, not looking up from her phone. “What isn’t she studying?”

You grinned a toothy grin at the comment. “It’s true. I’ve changed my major loads of times. I started with French, then anthropology. Now I’m stuck between film and history. There are a lot of things I love learning about. I just…. want to see the world, experience it all.” You explained softly, looking out the window as you thought. “It’s kind of hard to focus on one thing when your heart is all over the place. Y’know?”

Joel nodded a bit, clearing his throat. “You sound way smarter than me. Been contractin’ my whole life. Nothin’ special like French or history.” You giggled to yourself at the way he pronounced ‘French’, his Texan accent thick on the syllables.

“Contracting is honest work. Takes a big, strong man, you know? It can’t be easy. I admire that.” You hummed. Your eyes met once again. Joel’s tongue flicked across his lower lip, nostrils slightly flared.

Sarah was none the wiser, scrolling through her phone. You hummed a bit, settling in to your seat. By the time you looked at Sarah, she was passed out, fast asleep.

“So,” Joel began, turning on to a dirt road. You saw a few cows in the pasture fast asleep, the moon hanging above them. It looked like something from a storybook. “You heartbroken’ over this break up?”

You thought for a moment. “I don’t…. really know. It’s just weird…. it’s- it’s like I don’t know what to do with myself anymore. Like, yeah, I was cheated on, then dumped. But we did everything together. Went out, grabbed dinner, saw movies. I just don’t know what to fill that up with. I do all those things with Sarah, obviously, but it’ll still be weird. I don’t know. I’m rambling.” You huffed out a breath of air you had been holding, shrugging a bit. “Probably sounds stupid.”

“It ain’t stupid.” Joel reassured softly, his deep voice rumbled like a song through your ears, filling your mind with symphonies and day dreams. Day dreams of feeling his mouth on your own, hearing that voice from behind your back while he took you- wait, what? No! He was Sarah’s dad! You shook the thoughts away. “Don’t uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t feel bad for feelin’ any sort of way. Alright?”

As he pulled into the driveway of his home, you nodded slowly. “I’ll try not to.”

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

You laughed. “Star Wars! I love Star Wars.” You cooed, rubbing a hand down your cheek in an attempt to stifle your giggles.

“Sarah would never watch it with me. Been beggin’ her for years.” Joel admitted through a cracked grin.

“Well, I’ll watch it with you.”

Joel shot you that glance once more. “I’d like that.”

Was it a date? No. Surely not? Stop getting ahead of yourself! You took in a deep, shaky breath, gulping down a thick lump that had been forming. No. Calm down. There was no way.

Sarah woke up with a yawn, smiling when she realized the truck had finally pulled in to the driveway.

Joel helped you all unload your things, showing you to the guest room. “Feel free to help yourself to anything. Fridge, drinks. In the garage we got beers and some of them fruity mixers that Sarah likes. Our home is your home.” He explained, extending that Southern hospitality that you had heard so much about.

You felt your body warming up. “Thank you.”

“And, uh….” He rubbed the back of his neck, almost nervously. “I’ll be downstairs in the livin’ room watchin’ some movies, if you want to join me.”

WHAT?!

“Okay. Sure. I’d like that.” You said calmly, stiffly, and definitely not using a oh-my-god-did-he-really-say-that tone of voice. Nope. Not you. Not at all.

“Don’t feel pressured or nothin’. Just a thought.”

Before you could respond, Joel had walked through the hall and down the stairs. You threw on your pajamas, a simple pair of fleece bottoms and a tank top, rolling the thought over in your head. It would be nice, to sit next to him, hear his laugh, cast glances at his side profile. But you weren’t too sure if you could be trusted. Just out of a relationship, full of emotion, irrevocably attracted to this man….. No. No. It wasn’t a good idea. What if you did something you regretted?

So you climbed in to bed, shutting your eyes tight.

And then thirty minutes passed, and your eyes were wide open.

And then an hour passed, and your eyes were still wide opened.

What-fucking-ever.

You threw the covers off with a huff and walked out of your room, quiet as not to wake Sarah. She had had a rough finals week, and you knew she needed a good night’s rest. You on the other hand? Your body was aflame, every nerve lit up like a Christmas tree by Joel’s charming laugh, perfect hands, stern face. God. Why was he so attractive? So alluring? You buried your face in your hands as you shuffled down the hallway.

You were really doing this.

You reached the couch, and saw Joel watching the television, strong arm thrown across the back of it.

“Uhm, Mr- Uh, Joel?”

He turned to look at you, and you noticed a smirk tease the corner of his lips. “Well, hello darlin’. Started to think you weren’t goin’ to take me up on my offer.” Joel patted the empty space beside him. The couch was small, meant for two people.

You weren’t complaining.

“Yeah, well.” You let out a nervous giggle, sitting down beside him. “Couldn’t sleep, so.”

“Oh. So you’re tellin’ me I’m your rebound?” He joked.

“Yeah. Sorry… I’m real desperate these days.” You teased back, holding an embroidered pillow to your chest.

Joel chuckled a deep, beautiful, throaty chuckle, his arm not moving from the back of the couch, brushing every so often against your shoulder blades. “Do you want a drink?” He asked, turning to look at you.

“Sure.” You smiled softly at him, eyes lingering for a few beats to long. He shook his head a bit, as though he were thinking something he really shouldn’t be thinking, before looking away. A moment of awkward silence fell between you two.

Without missing a beat, he slapped his hands on his knees through a deep sigh, getting up and walking to the garage. When he came back, he had a six pack of beer in one hand, and a box of pre-mixed Strawberry Daiquiris in the other.

“Didn’t know which one to grab for you. A bit of everythin’, I suppose.” He sat the cartons in front of you, and you opted for the Daiquiri.

“Thank you.”

“Of course.” He grabbed the remote, flipping through the channels. “Anythin’ sound good?”

You hummed out in thought, eyeing all the movies. “Oh! Stepbrothers! That’s a good one.”

He looked at you. “Really?” He teased dryly.

“Sarah and I quote it all the time.”

Joel nodded for a moment, before turning to you, a serious look on his face. “Did you… touch my drum set?”

A long bout of silence passed, before you took in a deep breath and looked up at him. “No.”

He furrowed his eyebrows together, clicking his tongue. “It’s just weird, cause it seems like someone definitely touched my drum set.”

“Yeah, that is weird, cause I didn’t touch them.”

You stared at each other intensely, both feigning fake anger, before you broke out into giggles. He shook his head with a chuckle.

“So, Stepbrothers then-”

“Oh!” You cut him off excitedly. “Look! The Empire Strikes Back!”

He hummed in agreement, clicking it on. You both got settled in, your shoulder touching his side, his arm thrown behind your back again. Comfortable silence blanketed the room, and you took in the scene around you.

A small living room, a flat screen propped on a wooden console that looked handmade, a nice rug spread out over the hardwood floors. There were some car magazines on the table, a pair of work boots sitting in the corner. It smelled like him, and his electrifying cologne. It felt like him, too. Masculine, woody, comfortable. It was incredible.

You had finished the box of drinks before the end of the movie, and by the time Han Solo was frozen solid in his fancy little fridge, you were crying your eyes out.

Not because of the movie.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Joel’s eyes slightly widened as he turned to you. “Hey, honey, what’s the matter?”

You sniffled, face planting in to his chest. You were tipsy, the newest recipient of a so called broken heart, and he was warm. So, so warm. Without missing a beat, Joel’s arms wrapped around you, his grip tight and secure. You had never felt more protected, more wanted, more cared for.

“Shh, it’s okay.” His long fingers ran through your hair, gentle and soothing. “Wanna talk about it?”

“I’m such an idiot.” You grumbled into his husky chest, no doubt leaving a stain of tears. “I should have seen it coming. Everyone warned me about… about… even Sarah knew. But I didn’t listen. And now I’m here, crying to my best friend’s dad who is way too hot for his own good, full of all these feelings, and-and-….. oh, fuck.” You realized what had spilled from your mouth, pulling away sheepishly and stuffing the pillow in your face.

Joel sat for a moment, wordlessly, slowly looking at you. He gently pushed the pillow away before his index and thumb grabbed your chin, demanding and gentle, tilting your gaze to meet his own. “Too hot for my own good, huh?”

Your face heated up with embarrassment. You wanted to recoil away, maybe throw up a little. You wanted to climb beneath the couch and die there. Anything but own up to your words.

“It’s okay. Think you’re the first of Sarah’s friends to get a little crush on me?” He joked softly, gently rubbing his thumb across your cheek.

A pinch of jealousy surged through you. It wasn’t making you feel any better. You sniffled loudly, your eyelashes fluttering.

“I will say, you are the first of Sarah’s friends I’ve…. well, you’re beautiful. And smart. And, you know.” Joel paused, clearing his mind. He was usually much better with his words. “Look, darlin’. I like you, a lot. And I don’t want you to think I’m taking advantage of you or anythin’, but I can help with that broken heart of yours.”

A gulp of air caught in your chest. With shaking hands, you gently grabbed his own, pulling him closer to you. A deep breath, and then: “Please. Help me forget.”

Joel chuckled, his palm dragging down the side of your body. “I can do that.”

His lips met yours. Hungry, passionate, deep. Joel kissed you like he’d never kiss again, and you happily let him, lips parting, heart mending. He pushed you down onto the soft couch with his weight hovering above your own, fingers tangling into your hair. He wanted you. All of you.

“Can I touch you?” He asked softly, hand moving down to your pajama pants.

“Please.” It came out choked, a plea, a prayer.

He pushed your pants down, allowing you to kick them off, before his palm found your core. Hot, soaked, weeping for him. He groaned, gently rubbing your swollen clit from behind the material of your underwear.

“God damn, girl.” He smirked, eyes darkening. “This all for me?”

You nodded meekly, the inside of your cheek caught between your molars. “Touch me.” You begged.

“Here?” He whispered, his thumb dragging across your soaked slit, over the cotton material.

“Anywhere. Just, please- make me cum.”

“Oh, I’ll make you cum alright, girl. But you’re going to have to stay quiet for me, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pushed your legs back, slipping between them as he lowered himself, now face to face with your pussy. Joel slipped your underwear to the side, his tongue sweeping across his lower lip, before leaning forward and taking your clit in his mouth. You shuddered at the contact, groaning softly.

“I think,” he whispered quietly, your ears straining to hear him, “I want you to rub this pretty clit while I finger fuck your pussy.”

You groaned softly, eyes blown wide and dark, as you slowly sat yourself up on your elbows. “Ye-yes sir.” It just slipped out. You were too horny to care.

A guttural hiss seeped through his teeth. “I like that.” He warned deeply. “Go on, rub it for me.”

You lowered your shaking hand, the tip of your index slowly tracing up the length of your clit. It was screaming, begging, throbbing for any semblance of pleasure.

Joel’s eyes were on you.

He was inspecting your every movement like a panther stalking its prey, eyes full of lust, tongue dripping with desire.

You took in a sharp breath before rubbing your bud between your index and middle finger, a soft breath leaving you.

“Good girl. Good girl.” He praised, middle finger sinking in to your tight cunt. Joel sighed out a string of curses. “You’re fuckin’ tight, baby. That little pussy is drippin’ for me.”

“For you.” You whispered.

He looked up at you as he kissed your thigh, biting down on the soft, supple flesh. “You’re fuckin’ delicious.”

You threw your head back at his words, hips bucking. You felt your orgasm growing nearer, stomach tensing. Joel pushed your hand away, and you jerked your head to look at him, so quick it almost gave you whiplash.

“Sorry, I just can’t help myself.” He leaned forward, sucking at your clit again, his tongue swirling and flattening against it. Joel knew what he was doing.

As his finger still hit inside of you, you brought your hands down to his hair, tugging at his curls, the once slicked style now rampant and messy. You tried to stop yourself from moaning too loud, fearful of waking Sarah, but how could you not?

Joel fucking Miller, the most attractive man you had ever laid eyes on, was worshipping your pussy. You shivered, thighs clenching.

He was worshipping your pussy.

His hot tongue felt like Heaven against you, and Joel was eating you like a starved man, like your cunt was the nectar of the gods. He did what your ex had never done before- he made you feel wanted, made you feel desired.

Joel moaned into your pink flesh, sucking and licking, nibbling and swirling, until your stomach grew tight with a looming climax.

God, he was good at this.

“Gonna cum. G-gonna cum, Jo- oh, oh. Oh.” You hummed out in relief as your orgasm washed over you, eyes widening as he continued licking, sucking, finger fucking- he didn’t care that you were getting sensitive. All he cared about was you. Your sweet pussy, delicious cum, soft folds- he wanted all of it.

“Fuck, you taste good.” He whispered, bringing himself away from your core. “Sweet little thing, ain’t ya?”

Your cheeks heated, and you slowly sat up, legs still shaking. “Jesus Christ.”

Joel chuckled, reaching towards you as he fixed a few strands of messy hair. “Yeah, Jesus Christ.”

You stared at one another for a moment before he tackled you with a deep kiss, hungry and crazed. You wasted no time kissing back, feeling the outline of his cock on your bare thigh. You gasped for air at the touch, already knowing he was big, thick, perfect.

Your hand was moving towards his shirt before the hallway light switched on.

“Fuck. Here.” He tossed you your pants and you quickly slipped them on, resuming your positions on the couch as normally as possible.

As Sarah walked down the stairs, your chest tightened with a sudden realization.

This was going to be a great winter break… if you made it out in one piece, that is.

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

How would Genshin men react to getting an accidental boner in public?

Hm, I did something like this a while ago but it was about awkward boners, not specifically in public so I can write this.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Thoma, Xiao, Gorou, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Dainsleif, Cyno, Kaveh, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, awkward boner, semi-public sex, handjob, cum shot, embarrassment, grinding, masturbation, coming in pants, moaning, hiding

A/N: I was debating weather or not to write this, I don't like writing the same thing for the same fandom but again, I'm trying out this new format that I'm really starting to like so hopefully its still fresh for you guys.

TRIES TO HIDE IT - Thoma, Gorou, Al-Haitham

The poor guy is as red as he can get because of the situation. You just sat in his lap and kissed him a few times, a little close with your breasts and here he is, poping a boner under the table. You can see him shifting and trying to adjust his pants to mask it, not an easy task by any means. Taking the chance to tease him and see if he can stay quiet you lay your hand on his erection, making him let out a startled noise, getting even redder and shooting you a look that you react to by innocently blinking your eyes at him.

DRAGS YOU INTO AN ALLEYWAY - Itto, Childe, Dottore, Capitano, Kaveh

Now that you've gotten him hard and leaking cum you think he's just gonna walk around with a boner? He could honestly, he's not exactly ashamed of being turned on by you, but its a haste and he hates those. Alleyway it will be. Don't play coy now, turn around, spread your legs and let him move your pretty panties to the side. Now stay quiet, he can handle getting caught but can you? If you're feeling brave then by all means moan as loud as you want as he dumps his cum into your cunt, its what its for after all. In any case he will be holding you there, hammering his cock and balls into and against you until his cock starts to go soft inside of you. Not gonna be any time soon if you keep squeezing around him like that.

WAITS UNTIL YOU GET HOME - Kaeya, Pantalone, Dainsleif, Zhongli

He is... mostly a gentle man and has the patience to wait until you're behind closed doors. Won't stop you if you try to help him out by jerking him off under the table, just to get it to soften a little so he can walk. Hates the mess its made in his pants but at least he can get you home faster. Finally, all alone together. Your clothes won't live to see another day for what you did to him, trying to embarrass him like that. Who's embaressed now, dripping wet, begging, head empty and begging for his cock to fuck your pussy? Hm, since he's already came once and you made him hard for a while maybe he should leave you horny like this for the rest of the day. Oh he's not that cruel... yet but keep testing him and he might be.

TAKES CARE OF IT BY HIMSELF - Diluc, Xiao, Cyno

Finds an empty corner where he can take his pants down and stroke it away. Thinks of you the whole time, how he could be thrusting into your pussy, your mouth, your ass, all over your pretty tits. Was so wrapped up in his fantasy that he nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt your hand join his. When did you get here? How long were you watching him? Of fuck, getting down on your knees for him too. You want a better look? Look all you want, at least he has a target now. Open up because he's aiming for your pretty face and hungry mouth.

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pseudowho · 3 months

Text

Thinking about...

...long-term 'too comfortable' relationships with the JJK guys, when all the weird/gross/silly things creep in.

Pinning Gojo Satoru against a wall, having spotted an enormous pimple on his chin that you just have to get: "there's nothing wrong with m-- how dare you-- ow ow ow get off me--" "don't be such a melt, Satoru, keep still, that absolutely cannot stay on your face--"

Sitting on the toilet and chatting with Nanami Kento while he showers, and he wordlessly hands you a fresh toilet roll from the cabinet while he brushes his teeth; "thank you Kento" "mmmmmhm" and you continue chatting while you pee, leaving the bathroom door open. You forget to get off the toilet, so he brings you your tea there, while you continue to tell him about your day.

Laughing at Geto Suguru as he steps out of the bathroom after a bit of manscaping; "no no no-- go and get your razor, you're all patchy" "ah shit, really?" "yeah, you look like you've got a really bad gardener" "at least I try to trim the hedges..."

Plucking Fushiguro Toji's back hairs out one at a time; "OW-- dammit woman, stop doin' it like you hate me--" "--look, if you keep getting hairier, I'll just wax you instead, you're such a bear--" "--alright alright, I'll get your little witchy chin hair after--" "hey!"

Calling out to Okkotsu Yuuta while you're stuck on the toilet, blood over your hands and panties; "hey, Yuuta! Can you grab me some new underwear, and a pad?" "Sure!" Yuuta shuffles back to you, unfazed, as you hand him your bloodied panties to put in the laundry basket, "that bad, huh? You got enough stuff to last you?" "actually, I might need you to run to the shops..."

Creeping up behind Zenin Maki while she washes her bras in the sink, dropping a few of your own ones in, pressing a sloppy kiss to her cheek; "hey, hey, I'm not your washer woman" "yeah you are, such a beautiful washer woman" "psh...you're doing them next time"

Takuma Ino smiling as you curl on the sofa beside him in slummy old pyjamas full of holes (an ancient t-shirt of his, joggers you've had for at least ten years...), and you let out a fart; "sorry, sorry..." "don't be, I know you can do better than that" and Takuma lets one rip himself, sighing with relief.

Dropping your toothbrush down the toilet at Higuruma Hiromi's house; "ah, shit!" "oh, damn...just use mine" "eurgh, I'm not doing that!" "darling, be reasonable, I eat your pussy, we share much more--" "that's different--" "well by all means then, my love, enjoy your toilet toothbrush..."

Catching Todo Aoi taking a swig of milk out of the carton; "get a glass, jesus!" "whatever babe, it's just me and you here" "that is disgusting, unsanitary" "oh? I'll show you disgusting and unsanitary...c'mere"

When Kugisaki Nobara steps out of the bedroom, wearing your panties; "hey, they're my favourite!" "well they're my favourite too..." "yeah, on me! Get them off-- get back here--" and you dart after her, Nobara laughing as you try to pull your underwear off her, "help, help, I'm being assaulted!"

Catching Itadori Yuuji giving himself a scratch and sniff; "you absolute goblin-- go wash your hands!" Yuuji darts after you, laughing, his hand outstretched as you screech, ducking and running past him; "what, this hand? Come back baby! Where you goin'?"

Telling Fushiguro Megumi every single time you need to poop; "pause the movie! Gotta go poop," and he absolutely returns the favour, sitting on the toilet while you're taking a bath , "I'd wait...but I can't" "alright alright, just don't stink the place out" "I don't make promises I can't keep"

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komelrebi-san · 5 months

Text

gojo satoru is such a dilf, oh lord

oh no, i'm so whipped for this guy i think i might be mentally insane because how does he have the ability to make me so delusional can someone get me a gojo where can i get a gojo

tw: MDNI!, age gap, single-handsome-neighbour trope, gojo is a rich single dad and his daughter is so damn cute, dom! gojo, fingering, slight choking, drinking, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), size kink, tummy bulge, daddy+mommy dynamics, oral f! receiving, praise kink, semi-public sex (idk if it counts??), lmk if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

a/n: oops, sorry this was accidentally a bit longer than i thought it would be lmfao. pls comment/dm if you want this to be made into a full oneshot!

you, fresh out of college and just landed a well-paying job, managed to afford a house in a newly built expensive condominium. the apartment next door was uninhabited, as far as you knew. though, you were told otherwise when a little girl tugged on your hand as you walked by the playground in your condo, saying that she didn't know where her daddy was.

perhaps, for a second, you'd cursed to yourself at how careless and heartless the parent must be to have neglected their own child, especially a child as cute as this one! her hair was white as snow, shining gently in the sun; her eyes were a sharp blue, twinkling cheekily as she tugged on your fingers with her small hands. feeling yourself completely beaten by her puppy eyes, you decide to stay with her until her father arrives.

and oh, goodness, to think that all negative thoughts you had about the parent would completely disappear at one glance.

because fuck, he's gorgeous, he's the prettiest man you've ever met. and conveniently, his daughter happened to be the spitting image of him.

but wait, he lives next door! he just moved in.

at first, he was just a friend - a soft-hearted man who looks way too young to be in his early thirties: the kind that always called you over to hangout when his daughter comes because he knew you adored her chubby cheeks and grabby hands; the kind that always offered to help you with work and groceries and whatever that needed fixing in your house; the kind that always cooks for you or buys an extra serving of food on his way home from work.

but somewhere along the lines of knowing him, something sparked between the both of you (and it may or may not have been first planted in both of your minds by his fatally cute daughter, when she asked if 'the pretty lady next door will be moving in').

but it probably started on the night when he put his daughter to bed slightly later than usual, and invited you over for a drink.

there's nothing wrong with that...right?

wrong!

maybe it was the alcohol in your system, maybe it was the yearning for affection, maybe it was the ache for a proper relationship. but you'd told him what happened when he asked why your hand kept going to your neck when there's nothing there.

cheeks flushed, you'd told him how your ex cheated on you with one of your closest friends from highschool. and somehow you can't stop reaching for the necklace that you used to never take off, the one he gave you for your one-year anniversary.

and sometime after that, it led to you sitting in gojo's lap, lips against his with his large hands dangerously low on your hips. sure, it felt wrong because he already has a daughter whom you can't adore more than you already do, it felt wrong because he was like, what, 10 years older than you? and it also felt wrong because you're sure you shouldn't be kissing him when his daughter is sleeping peacefully in her bedroom just down the corridor.

but hell, it felt good too. because god, you swear this man is so damn fine - his eyes in the prettiest shade of blue possible, his soft white hair, his tall lean figure that he hasn't failed to maintain despite being a single dad in his early thirties, his large hands and, oh goodness, his voice. you're positive that you probably almost died on the spot when you saw him in a suit, veiny hands reaching to tug his tie loose with an almost wolfish grin on his lips as he said hi too you.

so, in conclusion, he's the biggest dilf you've ever met and goddamn there would never be a smash or pass judgement for him, because he is and always will be smash.

(oh, and there was this once he got grumpy and pouty because of his friend that came over...what was his name again? geto, was it? anyway, geto was really nice towards you, but gojo got pissed about it. but then again, gojo looks really cute when he's angry.)

and so, it happened.

---

dilf! gojo that never fails to give you the sweetest compliments and cutest pet names that leaves you blushing profusely. oh, he's such a menace, he thinks that you're so cute when you blush so he just ends up teasing you all the time. it's never 'y/n', it's always gotta be 'sweetheart' or 'honey' or 'cutie', or at the very very least 'n/n-chan'.

dilf! gojo that thinks it feels so natural to call you and his daughter 'his girls', curtsy of that one time when you dozed off with his daughter on your lap as you babysat her. 'my little girls look so adorable,' he'd say, sitting next to you while swinging an arm around your shoulders and pulling you into him.

dilf! gojo that is simply casually affectionate towards those close to him, and it multiplied when it came to you, it just felt so natural. forehead kisses, head pats, hair ruffles (oh god, his big hands, sheesh). it felt right to sling an arm around your shoulder or around your waist.

dilf! gojo that loves hugging you - it's not even that sexual, he just loves having you close to him, feeling your warmth and your sweet scent envelope him, feeling your body right up against his. he thinks that you fit perfectly in his arms (bonus! if you're short, bc he likes to prop his chin on your head).

dilf! gojo that insists you call him 'satoru'.

dilf! gojo that just simply can't stop thinking about you after that kiss, because holy fuck your lips taste so good, felt so soft against his. you looked so small and delicate in his lap, he thinks he can't possibly forget about the sight. you look so pretty when you're blushing and tugging him in for another kiss, wait no, you look so pretty all the time.

dilf! gojo who doesn't fail to notice how you got upset when he asked you to babysit his daughter as he'd be away for the night on a date. oh, the pout you tried to hide. of course he noticed it, because he knew that you want him, and fuck, he wants you too. so bad. so, so bad (but still, you looked so terribly cute as you fixed his tie for him).

dilf! gojo that came back as early as possible, heart almost jumping out of his chest when he realised you'd already put his daughter to bed. oh, you looked so beautiful as you waited for him to come back, sat on the couch with a book in your delicate hands. and he wanted, no, needed to explain to you that you're all he wants, who the fuck cares about that girl he was set up with?

dilf! gojo that just simply couldn't hold himself back as he saw your lips part in shock at his explanation as to why the date was so boring. of course it was boring, she isn't you, and she will never be you. why would i be looking for someone else when i've got my beautiful girls waiting at home for me? he'd say. and it's true.

dilf! gojo that just climbed on top of you and smashed his lips into yours. holy shit, it felt so good, it's just like what he'd been chasing after since that drunken kiss with you on his lap.

dilf! gojo that is so intoxicated by your taste, your scent, everything about you. one his hands cupped your face, the other traced up your thighs. though, he doesn't forget to ask for your permission, a smile curving onto his lips when your hips buck up into his hand, a breathy whimper of 'yes, please' falling from your lips.

dilf! gojo that is so obsessed with the way your juices taste. just from licking his fingers, he was tempted into licking a long stripe along your folds, groaning when quiet whines and whimpers bubble up your throat. if he had the patience, he'd eat you out for hours...but not today, because his cock was so hard that it practically hurts, begging to be released from its restraints.

dilf! gojo that swore if he was any less of a man, he'd have cummed immediately as he slowly pushed his big cock inside you, groaning when you clamped down on him. ah, but you can't be too loud, because you'd wake his daughter. so he settled on wrapping a large hand around your throat, squeezing just so very slightly, his touch gentle but dominating.

dilf! gojo that possibly just got harder upon seeing your small figure beneath him, back arching up and head thrown back. there was a bulge in your tummy. fuck, you're taking me so good, sweetheart. such a good girl for me, oh shit. he'd say, lips on your neck, his other hand gripping your waist.

dilf! gojo that rutted into you harder and faster when he heard you call him daddy. fuck, everything that left your lips always sound so pretty. yeah? you want me to make you a mommy? fill your cute little pussy to the brim with my seed? yeah? you gonna be a good girl and take all my cum? you want me to breed you, yeah? he'd pant, moving his away from your throat to knead one of your tits, crushing your lips with his to muffle your moans.

dilf! gojo that came inside you with a groan, painting your insides white with his thick sticky seed, reaching for that spot deep inside your pussy that made you see stars.

dilf! gojo that thinks you look so pretty, fucked out and panting, tongue lolling out of your mouth and cunt clamping down on his dick like a vice, both your juices spilling out of you.

dilf! gojo is serious about wanting you and wanting to be with you.

#dilf!gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru x reader smut #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #jujutsu gojo

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peachesofteal · 8 months

Note

Speaking about Ghost/Soap/Darling omegaverse... May I bring the idea of Soap and Ghost being alpha and Darling an omega? But wait, let me sprinkle a little of angsty thoughts about it:

Johnny and Simon get to spend their ruts together. Hell, they share a room, and even on base they get to have privacy and go through them with the help of each other, not only fulfilling their physical needs, which are sated of course, but also emotional. Yeah sure, heats are emotional but ruts are too, and they spend so much time together that almost, if not all of their ruts together have been spent in the company of each other.

But Darling? Imagine Darling having a heat every time she's alone. Simon and Johnny gone on some mission, gone for weeks and sometimes even months. Trying to satisfy herself with whatever smell is left on Simon's hoodie or Johnny's shirt. She tries to brush away the thoughts of loneliness and being left out that arise every time she rests in her nest, every time she has to painfully get through her heats without her mates' company.

Hell, she tries to hide everything every time Johnny and Simon come home, smelling like each other and fresh bite marks on their necks. She really, really tries. But nothing escapes those two, no. They can smell that little, slightly rotten smell on Darling, sensing her discomfort and those bouts of anger flaring up, those hints of desperation hiding in a slightly-rotten fruit smell. It becomes stronger and stronger each time she sees how close they are after they tell her that another rut came while they were on base, and her? At this point she might lie and say she's on suppressants. Again, they at least suspect about it.

But hell, the fact that there are always fresh bite marks on them every time they come home, while hers is is non-existent (Johnny and Simon foolishly believe she doesn't wish to be bitten), is NOT helping at all.

And they realize how drastic, how deep the problem is once their leave coincides with Darling's heat.

Except she hides. She doesn't let them in, because they maybe have never seen her on her heats.

She doesn't trust them to know how to deal with it, how to deal with an omegas' most vulnerable moment when all they've known is how alphas deal with their ruts.

Darling doesn't trust them, not fully, at least.

Djsjjd jfc when you said omegaverse I was 👁️👁️. Peach I hope you're having such a good day and I must thank you once more for giving us such beautiful stories, I hope nothing but good things happen to you from now on:)

— 🫔 Anon

Oh… okay, I see you. This is so good! There’s so much to explore here… 🩵

18+ / dead disco omegaverse au (it needs a name but we’ll get there?) / mature themes

The door swings wide, and Johnny is nearly bowled over by the scent. It’s everywhere in the flat, wafting down the hall to where they both stand at the threshold, overcome with the smell of overripe fruit, something sour and tart hovering at the precipice.

It’s the smell of their omega in distress.

But what surprises them both, is along with the burnt tannins of distress, is another smell. A ripe smell, a bruised stone fruit smell.

The smell of an omega in heat.

But their omega doesn’t have heats. You’re on suppressants.

Still, it’s definitely your scent. There’s no mistaking it.

Simon tenses, hackles rising with a growl. Johnny’s hand finds his chest, placing his palm over the older, bigger alpha’s heart soothingly. They’ve just both come off a rut, poor timing all things considered. Both exhausted, they were looking forward to getting home and falling into bed with you, cuddling you close while they both slept off the stress from the op and the remaining… sensitivities.

“Darling?” Simon calls, keeping his voice soft and easy.

There’s no answer. The flat is silent.

“Love? Are you here?” Johnny tries, pushing through to the bedroom, where he’s half expecting to see you curled up in the bed.

Except, you’re not.

It looks like you may have been, at one point. It’s a pile of blankets and pillows, haphazardly arranged with various shirts and other soft things.

Johnny chokes on a breath. The scent is much, much stronger in here, and Simon’s eyes slide closed as he draws a deep inhale.

“Omega?” He murmurs, and to their relief, there’s a small whimper from the closet.

When he gets the door open, his heart breaks. Simon’s body goes preternaturally still, and they both stare down at you.

You’re drenched in sweat, burrowed in a pile of clothes, eyes wide. You reek, panic and fear, distress and pain burning in their nostrils, along with the overripe scent, the telltale smell of a heat. Worse, when you look up at them, there’s no recognition there. Nothing to show that you know who they are to you, or even where you are. Johnny shoves away his panic over your confusion, this state, to try to coax you forward into his arms.

“Hey, there ye are.” He reaches for you, slowly, and your body presses against the corner, head shaking back and forth. Johnny frowns. “Darling, it’s okay. It’s us, you’re alright.” His hand gets closer, nearly brushing you knee, and then to their absolute shock, you snarl.

Simon is conflicted. He’s confused.

Why did you tell them you’re on suppressants?

They would have done things a lot differently, if that wasn’t the case. They wouldn’t have left you alone, if they had known. His stomach clenches when he thinks about the possibility that this isn’t the first time you’ve been on your own during a heat.

“Darling.” Simon coos. He doesn’t want to reach for you. He doesn’t want to pull you from the closet, this safe spot you’ve built, your nest. He doesn’t want to force you out, like his father would have. Like he always did to his mother. His father would have gripped you so hard it would have hurt you, left bruises on you. He would have terrified you, taken joy from it. “Omegas are weak.” Simon was raised to believe. “The lesser. It’s our job to teach ‘em.”

You snort out a trembling breath from your nose, little groan slipping from your lips and you rub your wrist on your gland. Johnny makes a strangled sound in his throat as it happens, and Simon doesn’t need to ask to know what he’s thinking.

Only omegas who have been abandoned or lost their mates try to self soothe like that, scent themselves like that. It’s an instinct, something that happens to try to prevent them from becoming overheated or harmed by a heat unmanaged.

“No, no no. It’s alright, love, we’re here.” Johnny pleads, hand still tentatively outstretched while you stare at his fingers. Every time your wrist rubs over your gland, they both cringe, and Johnny’s body goes rigid.

“I- don’t-” You stutter. You blink at them slowly, and he can see it all on your face, plain as day. The pain. The confusion. The distress.

Simon crouches, just outside the closet. He starts up a soothing rumble, trying to lure you towards him. You lift your head slowly when you hear it, when you feel the subharmonics, the song that sings to you.

“Come here, baby.” Your brow creases, and you rub your face. You look exhausted, like you haven’t slept in days and he wonders how long you’ve been you like this, how long you’ve been suffering. You don’t smell like pre heat, so you must be on the curve upwards. Guilt burns in his stomach. “It’s alright now.” Johnny moves next to him, shifting into a kneel very slowly while you watch him, hazy gaze fixed on the bite marks on his neck, over his gland.

“You’re safe.” Johnny coaxes, and he keeps his hand towards you, but unmoving, trying to show you that neither of them are a threat.

They both work to emit soothing scents, trying to lull you into their arms. You watch them warily, curiously, eyes opening and closing in slow motion as your instincts battle whatever confusion is happening beneath the surface.

It works. You crawl slowly out from the corner, t shirt sticking to your skin, your arms trembling under your weight.

“Good girl.” Simon murmurs. Neither of them move, afraid to spook you, and then you’re curling up between their bodies, rubbing your wrist against your gland over and over.

You tuck yourself into them, head laying on Simon’s chest and his hand comes slowly to rub your back, getting you used to his touch, easing you into a more relaxed state while Johnny smooths a hand over your shoulder, coasting his wrist closer and closer to your gland, trying to scent you subtly and soothe you, gentle you. You whimper when he makes contact, and they both press a little closer.

“Shhh. You’re okay, darling. We’re here.” Simon bows his head, skimming his nose overtop your scalp, and you shift, hands grabbing for Johnny, trying to pull his body overtop yours, effectively sandwiching yourself as tight as you can between their mass. You whine, and Johnny hums in your ear, soothing you by scenting until you’re letting out little rumbles of your own, soft purrs puffing against Simon’s chest, Johnny’s lips ghosting across your sweat dotted forehead.

#🫔 anon #tamale anon you genius!#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au

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notspiders · 8 days

Text

Liminal Spaces w/ 141

A thought I made with a few friends who fleshed it out more:

Liminal spaces! But you know, 141 are the monsters :P Now, the rule is that as long as you're compliant and not trying to escape, your liminal space is going to be heaven. They'll make sure of that to ensure you don't associate anything negative to their space. Can't have that, hmm?

Each man has their own domain. :)

Price - Suburbia:

Quiet, infinite neighborhood, everything looks the same. There's people but they all seem to act exactly like you'd imagine Stock Images people would act.

You can't really talk with them either. Strange how when you approach one of them, they just disappear in a blink of an eye.

Price would prefer if you act as his loving partner :)

The fridge is always stocked! Beds are warm and cozy. The television plays anything you want.

You also get WIFI. Don't bother messaging anyone (that isn't your husband.)

You can try to 'exit' the neighborhood. There's a car even! You can drive in it. There's unlimited amount of fuel. Too bad the road never seems to end and the houses are still there...

Not to worry. You can exit out of the car and enter any one of the houses. Price is always waiting :)

Got that all out of your system, hm?

Gaz - Shopping Mall:

Shopping mall has everything and anything.

Movie theaters, designer clothes, outlets, cafeterias, anything you want- it's there! Have fun exploring :)

It's just you though. No one else is in this mall.

Gaz's voice will always guide you over the speakers, should you ever get lost.

Or, your favorite music always plays over the speakers. You can ask Gaz to skip any song or play whatever you want at any moment of time.

Arcades, cafes, even a pet shop! Gaz will be happy to join you if you wish for company :)

The doors to the exits don't budge open. Stop trying.

There's an Internet cafe and library in this mall. Anything you want to read, watch, listen- it's all there. Still can't talk with anyone... Shame.

But you have Kyle. Who else do you want?

Soap - the Woods:

The Firewatch tower in the endless, dense woods.

It's pretty cozy.

Food is always stocked in the fridge. Plenty of water too. If you want something fresh, just ask! Soap is happy to hunt for you :)

You can watch sunsets and sunrises with him. He loves it :)

No WIFI here unfortunately, but, really- say goodbye to your electronic devices and embrace nature. It's good for you.

If you want to explore the woods, always have Soap beside you. He'll guide you around. Maybe you might find a small, beautiful clearing beside a lake. It's a perfect campsite. Could go swimming, fishing, canoeing...

Don't worry. No harmful bugs or creepy crawlies you dislike.

Oh? You want to go rock-climbing? Why how convenient that there's this cliff right beside us. With harnesses and such attached to the wall! And would you look at that, it's very easy to climb.

Plenty of things to do.

Starwatching. :)

As long as you're with him, no harmful monsters are going to bother you two.

Never go alone.

Ghost - the Beach

It's... a lovely beach.

If it weren't so foggy in most days.

But that's what you have Ghost for. He's your personal heater. :)

Seriously it gets freezing at night and the small shack by the ocean isn't really keeping the cold out.

Don't you worry. Sand won't get everywhere. And it's smooth. Calm your tits, Anakin.

Some days, when the Sun is out, the sand is just the perfect warm bed for you to lay down and just... sunbathe.

You can tan with Ghost to get that impeccable bronze. Don't worry, you won't get sunburnt. Of course... could always ask Ghost to lather sunscreen on you. He'll be happy to help you with that :)

The water can vary in temperature- from freezing cold to a nice sunny warm.

You can swim and wade in it. And you can try to go deeper but isn't that strange? The depth isn't changing and you just don't seem to be leaving the shore too much.

The currents do get stronger when you keep on trying. Don't bother, you're never getting past it.

Plenty of food and water in that shack. And spare clothes, towels...

WIFI? Babe, this is the beach. You don't need it. You have Ghost.

Bonus:

Credits to @angelcqre for this line:

something about the boys all going to Gaz’s domain at random points to pick up shit they don’t have in their own domains [...]

Yes.

Yes they would. They absolutely would.

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mayaflowerxs · 1 year

Text

BABY MAKING

Synopsis: What was meant to be a quick shopping trip to Target ends in you and your husband trying for a second baby.

Warning: Fluff / Humorish / Smut. Swear word usage, Est. Couple, Father!Jaehyun, pregnancy kink, daddy kink, and more!

A/N: Here’s a little something while I finish the requests sorry it’s taking a while, anyways enjoy! :)

Pairing: Jaehyun x fem reader

Your parents had insisted on looking over your daughter which you didn’t hesitate to agree. You had to admit, you love your daughter a blessing really but it’s gotten a point in your life where you just need that fresh breath of air. Even if it means your time be spent running errands. Much like you, your husband was on the same page. Endless nights from both work and parenting takes a toll on a person. The eye bags on both yours and his face have gotten visibly deeper along with the noticeable fatigue. And as you drop off your daughter with one last kiss to her adorable little head, the two of you were off.

Target. The store where there’s practically everything one could possibly need. You enter wearing baggy sweats and lose t-shirt. Hair in a messy bun as you start looking over your grocery list, for the lack of time the list has gotten rather long. Jaehyun by your side as he took the responsibility in maneuvering the cart. “Eggs, Milk, Diapers, Paper Towels…” as the two of you go aisle by aisle you felt yourself at ease for the time being. For a while it seemed like it was only you two. Just how it was only a year ago. It still feels odd to think you’re a mother now. Staring down at your hand and seeing the pearly white Diamond glimmering on your ring finger, shifting your eyes and seeing Jaehyun’s as well. Feeling his elbow nudge you, you look up at him. A soft smile on his face as he tilts his head at you. “You okay? You kinda spaced out on me.” Chuckling lightly you nod, “I’m good. You got the formula?” “Right here. Oh look they have my socks I wear.” Letting him walk off to inspect the aisle of socks, you check off the formula on your list. Waiting for your husband to choose a pair of socks took quite a while, too long you might say. And just before you’re about ready to hurry him up you hear the cry of a baby behind you.

Turning and seeing a mother had been strolling by, picking up her son as she consoles him. You can’t help but smile at the scene, until you stopped. With wide eyes, you turn to face your husband. “Jae gimme your hoodie.” Not turning to face you he responds, “Baby didn’t I say to bring a sweater? I told you it was gonna be cold.” He snorts wincing when you leave a rather hard smack on his bicep. Looking back, his eyes widen when he sees you clenching your chest. “Are you…?” “Yes Jae, I’m lactating!” The sound of a baby’s cry has left a wet patch on your through your shirt.

Yay on motherhood.

Quick to take his hoodie off, he covers you from any passerby’s. “Can’t believe this is happening.” Hearing Jaehyun chuckle, you send him a glare as you are left uncomfortably soaked. “Lets just get the rest of the groceries and get out of here.” You tell him annoyedly, and without another word he grabs his socks and quickly puts it in the cart.

With every passing second spent in Target was just another second your poor breasts were being filled with milk. And as the thought came in, the realization settled. “God I forgot the breast pump is broken.” You say, “It’s alright we can go grab another it’ll be the last thing before checking out.” Nodding the two of you make your way out. About to enter the aisle you’re forcibly knocked into another person walking out in a hurry. Clutching your chest in pain by the sudden pressure. “Excuse you!” Jaehyun shouts when he sees the woman simply walk by without even acknowledging your presence. Rolling his eyes at her, his irritated expression changes immediately of one of worry. “You okay baby?” Out of words to say from the pain you simply nod and wave him off. Instead you merely point at the breast pump. “Right.” Grabbing it and putting it in the cart, he wraps an arm around your waist and helps you move. By the time the two of you made it outside, you didn’t wait for Jaehyun and instead grabbed the box with the pump and ran straight to the passengers seat.

A grin on his face as he watched you, wearing slides and holding your chest as you struggled to open the door, looking up at him and seeing he had the keys held up for you to see. “Open it!” He hears you yell in which he snorts and does so. By the time he’s done filling the trunk with the grocery bags, he gets in and sees you almost filling a bottle full of breast milk. “Did not think it’d get swollen so quickly.” You moan in pain as you try to massage the tender breast. Sending you a sympathetic smile he leans in and kisses you. “Love you.” He mumbles on your lips. “Yeah yeah-“ You say trying to not put much attention to the obvious heat your face was getting from his words. Years later and still he had you a blushing mess. Hearing him laugh, he leans further and presses a kiss on your boob. Buckling in, he turns on the ignition and looks over at you. “Want Starbucks? Heard it’s okay to have a bit of caffeine while breast feeding…I can even get you a cake pop.” Looking at him, you contemplate it for a bit before nodding. Smiling, he rests a hand on your thigh and gives it a soft squeeze before backing out of the parking lot.

By the time you’re in the drive thru and waiting in the long line of cars, Jaehyun can’t help but revert his eyes over at you. The pumping is rather loud and after a while it’s gotten annoying with his hoodie constantly in the way so you pushed it up and now have your entire chest out in the open. Thank god for the tinted windows you managed to convince him to get. Swallowing as he bounces his leg quicker than ever. “Geez what’s gotten you so fidgety?” You joke at him, completely oblivious to the effect you have on him. Missing the hard gulp he takes, he doesn’t have time to respond to you before he’s having to drive forward and roll his window down. The man about to read him his bill, gets his words caught in his throat when he noticed you. Jaehyun whips his head around and grabs his hoodie and tugs it down. A whine escapes you as it caused the bottle to tip and have some of the milk spill.

“Jae-“ Face palming when you see the poor boy’s face red and hot you look down. Resting a hand on the arm rest covering your view of him. “Sorry about that.” Jaehyun can merely say before handing him his card. Clearing his throat awkwardly, the cashier mutters out a low, ‘it’s okay’ before swiping the card.

“You could have at least warned me.” You tell him the second the window is up and getting out of the drive thru. “I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking how could I?” “What, are you saying my breasts are too distracting?” You ask him as you take a bite out of your cake pop. He goes to respond but is cut off when you groan in pain again. “God I don’t understand how my girls can work so fast. I’m already full again!” Hearing the sound of the pump again, Jaehyun takes a quick glance over and seeing your breasts were out in the open again. Feeling the familiar tightness in his pants he shifts in his seat uncomfortably before clearing his throat. “Babe I know it’s something out of your control but-“ he barely manages to get out as his hand grips on the steering wheel, his other on your thigh riding higher up your leg.

“Oh my god are you seriously turned on right now?” You say surprisingly. “Can you blame me? You know I’m a titties man.” Slapping his chest, he smirks and glances over at you briefly. “Gosh when aren’t you horny?” “Hey I didn’t see you complaining the night our daughter was conceived.” Mouth slightly parted you squint your eyes at him. “My period was close to kicking in, my hormones were running high.” “Yeah,” he scoffs. “Hormones alright let’s blame it on that.” He finishes while trailing higher until they rest on top of your clothed cunt. Gasping, you grip his wrist. “Still sensitive as always, shall I blame that on the hormones as well?”

Smirking when he sees you spread your legs he begins to rub circles. A small moan falls off your lips, “Of course I’m sensitive, I did just shit out a baby a few months ago.” “Birthed babe, you birthed our daughter.”

“Yeah well when you’re in a state of pure agony you no longer give a shit if you were constipated or giving birth either way, you’re being ripped apart regardless.”

Lifting your hand, he takes it up to his lips and presses a kiss. “And I’m so proud of you for that. I don’t say it enough but you really are so strong and admirable, I could never and it’s why I love you so much.” Sending him a soft smile, you pick up your drink and take a sip of it. For a while it was silent the car ride home, and it isn’t until you’re only a block away does he speak up.

“I’m still horny by the way.”

The groceries go ignored the second Jaehyun parks in the drive way. Carrying you inside the empty house his focus is on you. Sliding his tongue in your mouth as you run your hands through his hair. Setting you on to the closest furniture, the couch. He begins to take off his shirt. Tossing it aside as he leans back in to attach his lips with yours. Large hands roaming up your stomach, lifting your shirt to trace the beautiful stretch marks he’s fallen in love with. A memory of when you were pregnant with his daughter. Finding his way to your breasts where you let out a loud moan the second he punches your nipples. Trailing gentle kisses on them and feeling himself get harder when he notices a small streak of your milk fall down your chest. The tightness in his jeans is painful, and his grunts are heard throughout the house the second your hand is placed on top of his bulge.

“Please baby.” “What is it my love?” He curls a finger underneath your chin and tilts his head. “Mhm?” “Let me make you feel good.” Pupils dark and dilated, he finds no reason to object. Standing up and unbuckling his belt, he hissed when the cool air hits his hard cock. Soft hands fisting him as you kitten lick him. Too slow for his taste, and so he grabs your chin and gets you to open. Grabbing his dick and propping it in your mouth. “Good girl.” He groans when he feels your tongue salivate him. Taking him deeper and quickening your pace. Bobbing your head as you gag every now and then. Music to his hears, enamored with your beautiful eyes that look up at him for approval. “Taking me so well, keep sucking pretty girl.” Fisting your hair in his hold his breathing becomes uneven the sloppier you suck him. Pulling away and a long stripe of your saliva connecting you to him. He’s red and veiny and it only makes you want to keep sucking him more. Until he’s completely empty. Jaehyun was right, hormones wasn’t the reason why you yearned for him so much. You being on your period wasn’t why you got pregnant. You got pregnant because you want him, everyday. A man so appealing like him is impossible to not be attracted.

The man standing before you yearns for you just as much. Seeing you on your knees taking his big cock is enough to fuck you with his babies any time of the day. With how sex craved the two of you are, he’s surprised it took you guys this long to finally get pregnant. The slurps and gargles are heard bouncing off the walls, grunts and groans coming from your husband add on to it. His abs are clenched when he feels the familiar feeling beginning to form. Throwing his head back, he starts fucking your throat. With need and desperation he’s trying to find his climax. “Shit!” He can’t help but swear when you suck in your cheeks. The tightness around his dick, your warm mouth and talented tongue is enough to throw him over the edge. He feels himself explode in your mouth, shooting it all down your throat. Shivers coursing throughout his skin when he feels you hum on his dick. Watching you swallow every single drop. A small twinkle in your eyes as a bit of his cum falls from the crevice of your mouth. Leaning in to kiss you, he tastes the saltiness of himself. “Not done with you yet.” He murmurs on top of your lips.

He was right. For the time your parents had your daughter, Jaehyun took it as an opportunity to get back some husband and wife bonding time. He missed your touch, and even though the cuddling and make outs are just as good he still craved you. Seeing you pumping milk did things to him and even though it pained him to see you in labor tired and in pain it only made him want to love you a thousand times more. Your round belly and the after glow of postpartum birth, he feels like a dog thinking this way but he can’t help but want to fuck another baby in you. So soon but he wants to, needs to.

The two of you always spoke of how many kids you’d want and even though Jaehyun was the one who wanted a big family in comparison to you, the two of you agreed you at least wanted the kids to be close in age. Which is why he has no problem getting you nice and spread on the kitchen counter. Not caring you were in the middle of putting away the milk you had just pumped, and instead focuses on making you come over and over again with his tongue. Get you nice and soak so you’re ready to take him for countless rounds it takes to get you nice and stuffed. “Jae!” You hiccup, he doesn’t remove his mouth. He doesn’t even flinch, instead he buries his face further into your pussy. Eating you like a starved man and grunting each time your nails tugged a little too hard on his hair. “Baby it’s too much!” You throw your head back on the table. Completely naked for him just the way he likes it, hickies left all over your skin trailing them down to your sensitive pussy where your legs are trying their hardest not to close. Your husband’s large hands keeping them spread as he spits on your clit before diving right back in.

Your breath hitches as you shake in his hold. Another orgasm is ripped out of you, tears falling down your face. Jaehyun can feel you throbbing on his tongue, your sweet juices hitting his tastebuds. Finally, he pulls away. A shimmer around his mouth as he pulls you closer to the edge of the table. Leaning in to press a firm kiss on your lips, muffling the loud moan of yours when he forced himself inside you. No matter how much scissoring and tongue fucking he’s done you simply refuse to get used to his size. Your husband’s too big and it’s what drives you into subspace. He knows that, which is why he fucks you for hours if he really wanted to. Until he sees your pretty tears and face lost in pure bliss does he let up. Your husband has insane stamina, he can go for so long without ever climaxing. That’s unless you blow him, then he turns putty for you.

“So big!” You gasp out, eyes shut but Jaehyun doesn’t like that. No, you can’t lose yourself right now. He needs your eyes on him, to see how beautifully connected you two are. How well you take him, tapping your cheek he presses a soft kiss on your cheekbone. “Open those pretty eyes for me mama.” Mewling, he doesn’t give you time to disobey him. Lightly slapping the side of your face to get you to look at him and when you do he can’t help but grin. You looked ethereal in your current position, seeing you shining in sweat, chest covered in his love marks and lips swollen he can practically go feral for you. So he does. Gripping your legs and hovering them over your hips he begins to ram into you. The claps much louder along with your moans. Breath hitching each time he hits your gspot, your hands quick to grab onto his forearm digging your nails into his skin. Giving him space to nuzzle his face in the crook of your neck. His favorite place to stuff his face in second to stuffing it in your sopping pussy.

You feel his hot tongue running up your neck, shivering at the sensation especially when your husband doesn’t show signs in slowing down. Your walls gripping him tightly the harder he pounds into you. It felt good, so good your eyes began to tear up. Squelches were heard as your stomach kept clenching. When he pulls away, his hair is in the way. His eyes slightly covered, looking down he lets out a loud grunt upon seeing the prominent bump near your lower abdomen. “Where you feel me?” He huskily asks. “So deep!” Grabbing your hand, he leads it down to your stomach and has it lying on top of the print of his tip. “Feel me here baby?” “Yes!” Throwing your head back when he stops his movement to focus on thrusting further. “How about now?”

You couldn’t answer, you felt full and pure bliss. And as much as you’d like to indulge in the pleasure, your husband has a need for you to remind him how good he makes you feel. “Answer me.” “God I feel you in my stomach Jae!” It’s all he wanted to hear to get back to fucking you. Plunging in and out, quick motions before he pulls out and turns you around. Despite the insane amount lust he has, he takes the time to grab a pillow and rest it under your hip. Gentle to pull your hair away from your face and use it as leverage when he goes back to ramming inside you.

“I’m so close!” He’s gone silent, and you know once he is it means he too is close. And as the two of you are hitting your climax, you’ll soon come to find out this won’t be the last of it today.

Your parents are meant to drop your daughter off soon, in an hour precisely when the clock strikes 9 but Jaehyun wasn’t worried. He’s taken the initiative to have sex with you on all the surface inside the house. He can’t quite explain where this sudden horniness came from, maybe the breast pumping truly was a turn on for him and he just now acted upon it. It only took about half up to an hour before Jaehyun attached himself back on you. Wrapping his arms, pressing heated kisses to the nape of your neck, rubbing his groin up against your ass before he bends you over whatever surface nearest to you. By the time night came, your and his hair looked completely disheveled along with bruised lips. Necks covered in dark colors and both reeking of sex.

Couch, bed, kitchen counter, wall, door it was endless and he was sure he had gotten you pregnant by now. You guys went at it like a bunch of bunnies no way he didn’t knock you up. And as he lied on the bed watching you get ready to shower, the thought of you wet and naked had him getting hard again. Not even uttering a single word before he follows you in. “Excuse me?” Not responding, he closes the door and begins to take off his shirt. Revealing his toned chest to be covered in scratch marks, fainted lipstick and hickies. “One more won’t hurt right?” He raises a brow and smiles mischievously. “Are you trying to impregnate me with twins or something?” Shrugging, he picks you up and settles you on the counter. Pressing his lips on top of yours, he helps take off your oversized tee. “Would it be so bad?”

Giggling, you open your legs to let him fit right between them. Seeing his eyes darken as he leans in to start fondling with your breasts. Gasping when you feel yourself starting to lactate. “Jae!” Holding you still he continues to suck. Your tits were sensitive, you couldn’t hold still but this never faltered the man in front of you. Instead he grew determined and as he tastes your sweet milk he knew, there was absolutely no way he could wait who knows how many days before he can have you to himself again. Play with you as much as his heart desires. So, with reluctance he pulls away. Watching a few drops fall on your stomach. Leaning in to lick it up, you feel yourself begin to get excessively wet again. Playing with his soft hair, your intrusive thoughts wanting you to simply push his head a bit further to where you most need him.

“Be right back, need to make a call. Get in while I do that.” He says hurriedly. Curling a finger around your chin, he pulls you in for another wet sloppy kiss before walking out the bathroom. With a huff, you do as told and get into the shower. And while the bathroom steamed up, waiting impatiently for your husband to return and fuck you. Jaehyun quickly picked up his phone and dialed the familiar phone number. One ring, two rings and on the third they picked up.

“Afternoon Mrs. Y/l/n, so sorry to bother but something came up and I don’t think we’ll be home tonight. You wouldn’t mind if she stayed with you for the night right?”

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