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#pre recorded voice call
nettyfish · 2 years
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Do you need to Boost Your Customer Experience with Voice Call Support?
We Offer voice call support to customers is a great way to boost their journey and satisfaction But there’s more to it Discover all the details here.
 +91-86086-66111  [email protected]
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arctic-hands · 1 month
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Doubly glad my number wasn't called for jury duty today because my period started and I'm so bloated I wouldn't have been able to button up my one Professional Shirt and I don't know what I would have worn to not get me held in contempt of court
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wordwizards · 1 year
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I'm watching a video on uncanny scenes in horror movies and how to create that effect in your audience, which is very helpful writing-wise, but also makes me realize that there are probably people who think I look scary/uncanny valley when I'm just doing my regular stuff. Sorry for having weird movements & unnatural facial expressions etc.
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haloocomm · 1 year
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Inbound vs Outbound IVR: Which One Does Your Call Center Need?
www.haloocom.com
IVR technology plays a crucial role in modern call centers. In this article, we'll cover inbound vs outbound IVR and compare their features, usage, and benefits to help you determine which one is best for your business needs.
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90-ghost · 2 months
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Israeli quadcopters in Al Nuseirat refugee camp in central Gaza broadcast pre-recorded voices of people and children calling for help to ambush residents and force them to leave their houses then they open fire at them !
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pascals-doll · 4 months
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like a virgin
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joel miller x reader
🫧 inspired by madonnas like a virgin MY MADONNA CONCERT IS COMING UP I-
🫧 i always make my writings for joel so long but i love this man smm i could write all day for him it dont even b on purpose 😩
🫧 description: pre-outbreak!joel, babysitter!reader, reader babysits sarah, semi-fluff, DILF JOEL DILFFF, age gap (joel is 36 and reader is early 20s), smut smut, SMUT SMUTTT, dom!joel, softdom!joel(ugh i need so bad),sub!reader, hella praise kink, reader and joel are obessesed w each other tbh, secret crushing, body worship (reader reciving/ slight joel), pussy eating, possessive!joel, unprotected sex, p in v sex, hair pulling (j recieving), tommy is a teasing p.o.s 😭, no use of y/n, use of nicknames (sweetheart, darlin, and sweet girl).
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you stepped into the miller’s residence weekly to babysit his daughter Sarah, she was the sweetest teen girl. she reminded you a bit of yourself when you were her age which was probably the cause of the instant connection.
you had been baby-sitting for almost 8 months now, leading to getting closer to Joel; Sarah’s dad.
Joel was more than a hunk of a man, he towered over you even with your heeled mary-janes at times, his broad build engulfing all his clothing making him look like a slutty construction worker with his roughed up baggy-blue jeans thats sinched around his waist perfectly.
you would be lying if you wouldn’t oogle the man while his attention was pulled onto something else. you would watch the way he talked so sweetly to Sarah, yet when it came to a phone call, his neighbor, a stranger or his brother, Tommy that would occasionally stop by.
Joel would have this assertive and unruly tone underneath that thick southern accent. he was a man that paid close attention in his life which is why he has allowed you to take care of his daughter with so much trust.
you would never know it but Joel cherished you and the things you do.
Joel would show it in very discreet ways, today was a prime a example.
“m’havin a famiy cookout later t’night, why don’t you head on home to rest, so you can come back to enjoy with us.” Joel invitied you with ease as you began to grab your belongings from his coat-rack near his front door.
you grabbed your purse, walking towards the sound of his voice which was right around the corner. Joel was standing in his wide living room.
“it would be more than my pleasure. thank you for everything again. im always very appreciative for sarah and you” you thanked him sweetly, eyes meeting his.
he stood next to his large bookcase that had an assortment of different books, personal objects, some cds/dvds, and his vinyls.
joel picked up a vinyl, sliding out of the slot in the shelving of his bookcase, pulling it out of the envelope, and placing it on the record player.
yet another instance, where you accidentally ogle him.
“the real thank you should be t’ya. im adjustin’ to single parentin’ and ya’ been very accommodatin’, thank you.”
your kind demeanor was the sweetner to his coffee.
you were now home, getting dressed to return to the Miller’s residence.
usually when you’re babysitting, you dressed lazily. you would put on a random shirt and jeans or sweats.
you wanted to cleanup a bit more, knowing it wasnt just going to be you and sarah most of the day; Joel would be there.
you threw on this cute blue floral sundress that was mid-length, it stopped right below your cross necklace.
you finished up by pairing it with white frilly socks with mid-heeled black flats.
you didn’t put much makeup on, only putting the basics before doing any last touch-ups and grabbing your black mini-purse.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
once you arrived, opening the gate and greeting a few of the people that were sitting on the porch before entering through the front door.
the sound of chatter got louder as you walked through his home. you turned around to the corner and his living room was empty but his kitchen was cluttered with different food and grill necessities.
you thought to yourself how they must be outside, you began to walk farther into his home till the back where the sliding door to his backyard was.
you began to slide the door open “oh my!! you came!” sarah squealed out of excitement, she came from restroom door next to the side of his sliding door.
you immediately engulfed the excited girl that ran into your arms “i wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl!” you exclaim while smiling.
“c’mon! my dad is outside grilling!” sarah spoke excitedly. she grabbed your hand as you opened the door and walked outside together.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
“d’ya invite that sweet babysitter of yours?” Tommy asks joel while seasoning the steak “i did, i hope she comes-you know, for sarah and all” Joel tries to play off with his words.
“oh my brother fancy’s someone, i see” Tommy chuckles out, putting his beer bottle up in the air slightly.
“i do not fuckin’fancy that young lady. she’s gone above and beyond for my daughter and i just wanted her to feel welcome” Joel explains himself, his tone laced with angry yet getting his explaination a across a bit hastily. Tommy’s eyebrow quirks.
“don’t say nothin’ else” Joel utters out in a stern tone, grabbing his cold corona as Tommy puts his hands up in defence.
Tommy turned his head, not the best decision as it made his amusement grow fonder. he turns back to Joel.
“well, ya’look at that brother” Tommy slys out, throwing a wink at his older brother before making his way back to his wife Maria.
It was you and sarah approaching, Joel actually choked on his sip of beer.
you were beautiful, Joel wasn’t an oblivious man.
Joel, himself even thought it was impressive how easily you cleaned yourself up by just some jeans and sweatshirt; at times just a shirt.
tonight was different, very different.
Joel finally has seen you outside of your different hoodies and pants.
he couldn’t begin to comprehend as you and sarah got closer and closer “Dad! she made it” sarah calls him out in excitement.
you finally approached him next to his griller which caused him to immediately snap out of his gaze.
Joel gave you his hand to shake “thank you so much for having me” you thank him, sweetly accepting as you began to shake pulling you in for a soft side hug.
you were right beside him, feeling the heat of the fire from the grill on both of you.
in Joel’s eyes, up close, your beauty was now beyond otherworldly. your light blue sundress bringing out the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders, and your jewlery sparkiling the tone of your skin.
you looked so elegant, yet you still managed to keep it simple. your winged liner making you look more mature than just the light mascara you would rush onto your lashes before getting out of your car on babysitting days.
Joel couldn’t begin to wrap it around his mind how you could possibly look so pure yet you were a woman. a hard-working one at that.
he knew that. it was something that made him desire you which felt so wrong.
“anytime, ya deserve to be apart of the family-shit! ya’already are” Joel goes off a bit nervously after ogling you. you gave him a soft smile.
“did’ya need help with the grill?” you quickly perk in as the fire began to sizzle a tad bit louder than usual “ah shit!” Joel exclaims, flipping each of the steak.
“careful now, brother! dont burn ‘em!” Tommy calls out, laughing with a devious smirk as he approaches again with cooler in hand.
Joel grumbled something under his under his breath as he focused on the grill.
“nice to meet you, i’ve heard s’much about you! I’m Joel’s brother, Tommy.” the younger brother introduces himself.
you give him your hand to shake “It is nice to meet the uncle tommy” you joke out causing sarah to giggle with you.
Joel couldn’t begin to explain the beauty you carried within you.
he was sure that if a god made you, it was Hestia and Aphrodite.
𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪
the evening was pleasantly spent by you getting to meet maria and her pregnant belly, congratulating her.
then once it was time to serve the dinner, you helped Joel and Tommy by moving the grilled food off of the grill.
this consisted of Tommy making jokes that had slight insinuating under-tones that you were too naive to pick up but laugh everytime Joel would punch Tommy’s shoulder roughly, not being playful at all.
you helped bring in the food as sarah set up the dining table. once everything was set up and everyone sat down to eat, Joel’s grilling being beyond splendid.
when dinner was over while everyone cleaned up, you went to use the restroom.
you finished using up the restroom which is how you were now in Joel’s living room.
you began to admire his large bookcase from where he stood earlier to invite you.
you skimmed through, your hands softly going over the objects as you observed his books, framed pictures, his collection of dvds, and then his vinyls.
you had a record player of your own, sometimes sarah would ask you to play bon jovi and tell you where the record was.
Joel had an impressive collection, ranging to every genre of music. he had some legends on vinyls like Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Lionel Richie, and Madonna.
you immediately picked up the Madonna vinyl, it was her second album ‘Like a Virgin’.
you grew up with your mom adoring Madonna more than anything which explains your adoration for her music.
“I was in highschool when i first heard Madonna” a deep voice spoke through the room, behind you.
you automatically knew it was Joel, turning around still looking at the tracklist on the back of his vinyl “this is my favorite album besides Like a Prayer” you say as you walk up to him, smiling.
“you weren’t even born yet” Joel laughs out causing you to jokingly get offended.
“excuse me, i know my Madonna” you joke back, giving him a playful wink which he just gave you a slight chuckle too.
“she say she know she Madonna, ay?” he gives you a slight smile, opening up his record player before inserting the vinyl.
soon enough the record player began to ring a classic 80s pop beat through the room.
you automatically felt yourself slightly popping your leg with the beat and snapling your fingers slightly.
“go ahead, Mr.80s” you state smiling, inviting him to dance “oh no, i-don’t dance” Joel quirks out awkwardly, now standing nervous.
Joel admired your confidence and comfortabilty in your skin, you were so young and full of life while also being so sophisticated and methodical.
you grab Joels hands and began to playfully sway with him.
Oh, like a virgin
Touched for the very first time
Like a virgin
When your heart beats next to mine
🫧
you sang the melodious lyrics under your breath. you felt your breath hitch as you locked eyes with joel, being in his grasp.
you could feel your body burn up in his strong hold, his heavy hand on the small of your waist.
your breath hitched causing your chest to push up against his chest. this felt so right, the way his hands held your body and each of your curves.
🫧
You're so fine, and you're mine
Make me strong, yeah, you make me bold
Oh, your love thawed out
Yeah, your love thawed out
What was scared and cold
Joel made you feel more than a woman, you were so polish and refined, yet so sophisticated and mature while all-looking ever so young and full of life.
he felt a bit of confidence which made him twirl you around, engulfing you into his embrace again with one arm; your back to his chest now.
you swore the sound of the song was slowly drowning out and now the sexual tension was ringing through the both of you.
you could feel his heartbeat thump against your back as his hands rubbed both sides of your waist to the rythem of your delicate sways.
you leaned your head back against his chest, his scent being the only thing on your mind.
you felt him begin to caress your hair with one hand as it left your waist.
“you’re s’beautiful, hope y’know that” Joel could blame it on his 5 beers but 5 beers wasn’t shit for Joel, he was very conscious of his choices.
the compliment sent shivers down your spine as you swore your knees grew limp momentarily.
you turned around, your thigh now inbetween one of his legs, chests pressed against each other, his hands gripping your hips now, and faces inches away from each other.
your lips were parted, you really were debating on kissing the beautiful hunk of a dad infront of you.
fuck it
just like that, within no time your lips were moving like you both had never kissed anyone before.
the song continuing to play as the both of you makeout in his living room while everyone was outside.
the way his hands ran through all of your body like he had never touched anyone, your lips pulling away to catch your breathe momentarily like you had never been kissed like that before.
Joel completely ravished you.
hell…now that he had you, he wasn’t gonna let go now.
“m’room darlin’” he mutters against your lips, before completely scooping you up bridal style. it caught you slightly off guard, gasping which made Joel smack your ass playfully.
“oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” you joke, your arms were wrapped around his neck.
“oh, don’t’cha worry sweetheart” Joel smirks out as you arrived to his room.
he laid you on his bed, going down with you while on top of you. he began to move his lips from kissing you to your neck, pulling down the small straps that held your dress.
each kiss that Joel placed on your body felt like a burning sensation, making your insides erupt with giddiness.
you felt like this was your first time all over again. your mind was racing, heart was nervous, and body was clamy.
and it was all because of Joel.
you weren’t sexually active at all recently, you were so busy with work, about to graduate with your masters, and even babysitting sarah; spending more time at the Millers than on dates.
you did go out but lord were the guys of this generation a bunch of sluts.
“what’s on your mind? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?” Joel’s rushes out accidentally, not wanting to sound nervous but he did.
you weren’t only one feeling like a bad teenager doing this for the first time.
Joel smelled your perfume and that was all it took to get his mind racing. he couldn’t begin to fathom how he finally got to have you.
the way his big frame craddled yours sent him into overdrive, his heart going a million miles per minute as he tries to figure out where to even begin.
for you, it might’ve been a year but for him, it was almost like ages with the years he’s gone.
all Joel’s mind could do was think of all the things he could do to you.
“Joel-hmph” you couldnt help but whine out as his hands massaged closer and closer to your arousal.
“there there sweet girl, you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, lifting your dress up, exposing your angelic white panties.
Joel was damned forsure for the filthy thoughts you provoked out of him.
“n-no, i have never—they were idiots.” you felt so small under him, feeling overwhelmed like it was your first time all again.
at this point, you could’ve considered yourself a virgin with how Joel had you and how much of a man he was.
“you ain’t gon’go lookin’ f’someone to take care of that pretty lil’mind, not after im done with’ya.” Joel claims to you.
you believe every single word laced in his southern accent; making your cunt pulsate wantingly.
“is that what you want to do, Joel? take care of me?” you ask him, lifting your leg to spread yourself open more as you wrap it around his lower waist; basically resting on his thick thigh.
the way you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. it was a genuine question, laced with purity and hope.
“if you’ll allow me too-” Joel began, pulling down your panties. you expected him to unbuckle his belt next but no; he got on his knees.
your chest weighed up and down heavily, each of his touch making your body hot.
“it’s my only wish for taking care of me and sarah” Joel finishes before hooking both of your legs up onto his shoulders, his tongue wasting no time.
you didn’t even get a chance to respond, a moan erupting out of you being the only thing.
the way he ate your pussy like he didn’t just eat a whole meal downstairs had your back already arching.
Joel’s tongue swiped along all of your cunt, fucking your sweethole “jesus, ya’taste fuckin’ delicious” Joel mumbles against your pussy as his tongue quickens all along your juiced cunt.
“ahmph!” your shriek sounding like music to his ears, if he didnt have his family downstairs, he’d have you screaming.
“quiet fa’me, doll” he says, taking a hand to cover your mouth as before diving back in.
joel’s tongue fucks into your hole this time causing you to let out a muffled moan against his big hand.
the way that man was eating your pussy, tainting your pussy with his spit, marking it all as his drove you insane. there wasnt nothing this man couldn’t do.
“god! j-joel!” you muffle out, your hands go to his roughed up brown hair, pulling on it causing him to groan into your dripping pussy.
you felt yourself getting closer and closer, your pussyhole squeezing around the tip of his tongue.
“this pussy s’perfect- s’all fuckin’ mine.” Joel spits out once he pulled away from your pussy, denying you of your orgasm.
your mouth was agape in pleasure but then quickly falling into a pout “don’t worry darlin’, my baby will cum…on my dick” Joel’s voice is sweet like honey now as he leaned down to connect your lips together.
you taste yourself on his lips, mixture of his spit along his lips causing you to moan at the mix of both of your filth fogging your mind.
the way both of your lips moved in sync perfectly was beyond intoxicating for joel. he swore he could get addicted to just at the look of you but at this point, both of your lips had him drunk.
he had shimmied and kicked off his pants while making-out with you. he was completely taking over you once again, your body turning small under his big one.
“are you ready, sweetheart?” joel asks delicately, pulling away from your lips to look at your eyes.
you told him yes, leaning up to take his shirt off which he happily obliged.
you had only seen his toned arms but it was obvious he had a strong build. he might’ve not had a six-pack but lord were his muscles chiseled like a greek god.
“you gon’ drool over an old man?” joel utters out, his hand going in to caress your hair.
“oh baby, you’re beyond fine wine.” you whisper. your forehead’s connected, lips away from kissing, and looking him deep in his chocolate eyes.
Joel could feel his breath hitch at what you said, you already had him wrapped around your finger as he worshipped you.
Joel thrusted himself into you, he couldn’t even fucking believe how tight you were.
“jesus- god, this pussy s-ah fuck!” joel’s groan was almost animalistic as your mouth fell as if you wanted to scream but nothing came out.
Joel’s cock was a size you’ve never had before, it didnt hurt but oh, did it stretch.
“s’big-oh my!” you moan out loudly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him delectably stretching your pussy out.
“you got it baby, you got it” he praises you although he was too busy trying not too pass-out because of your cunt.
after a small moment of adjusting for the both of you, he began to thrust into you at a slow pace.
you arch into him as your whimpers and soft moans turn slowly work their way up to louder and heavier moans.
joel worked himself into you, his mind not being able to get enough of all of you. he still had to process that he really had a young beautiful woman with the heart of a home in his bed.
joel completely held your body with one hand, eventually putting a hand over your mouth again once his sweet thrusts turned into pounds.
your body shaking against his with each of his rough and hard thrusts, fucking your name out of your mind and replacing it wirh his.
your muffled little cries of his name “Joel! joel-ah! j-j! j-joel!” sounding like a sweet lullaby to him. he couldn’t help but smirk at your teary eyed-self.
you werent even worried about ruining that pretty liner of yours as he fucked into you.
“shh my baby, you’re taking me so well” joel coos out, caressing you hair before leaning down to plant kisses and suck on your chest.
your hands grip his bed sheets as your body begins to shake in pure sensual bliss that joel brought you, making your mind fog up as the build up of your orgasm is almost virginal.
“ya’look so beautiful like this-” praises left joel’s lips left and right, loving and indulging in every single one of his praises as he fucked you to your orgasm so sickeningly good; leaving the both of you intoxicated.
“you was made fa’me, not no one else.” Joel’s eyes were shut now, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.
it was almost like a prayer, a hopeful chant, almost a possessive plead.
joel had wanted you just as much as you wanted him “yes! god yes! m’close! it’s y-yours! all yours!” your pleasure-filled babbles as your mind gets drunk of joels cock and overwhelming orgasm.
“let go, darlin’ ” Joel works you through your orgasm, hips going from pistoling into you to the delicate pace he started off with.
your entire body shook as both of your sweaty hot bodies embraced each other through both of your orgasms.
the room filled with heavy pants and moans as his hand left your mouth and began to massage your hair.
you both held each other, not wanting to let go of each other.
“i understand what madonna meant by ‘like a virgin’ now” you giggle out causing a playfully scoff to come from him.
“alright alright, we need t’get dressed and head back down. would ya’ want to stop by tomorrow after i drop sarah off at school?” joel asks, his chocolate eyes now ridden of lust and replaced with soft hope.
you were about to tell him yes but another voice spoke before you.
“are you fucking done?! fuck! i can’t keep stalling Sarah and Maria!” it was Tommy.
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voidst7rn · 4 months
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𝖙𝖔𝖔 𝖑𝖔𝖓𝖌 - c. sturniolo
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chris x fem!reader
— warnings ; smutt, dom!chris, pet names (baby), oral (fem receiving), praise, swearing, edging, overstimulation, p in v, no use of y/n,degradation.. (he called you a whore.)
— summary ➞ chris always knows how to make you feel good, but this time it was too much and it lasted way too long.
— a/n ; i was half asleep making this it may be kindaa shit ignore that loll. also the smut part is like.. kind of abrupt so ignore that i had no idea how to do the build up at the time and i did nawwttt proof read so
you were laying in chris’ bed, waiting for him to come back from filming. it was around one in the morning, and the triplets had left to film a friday video since they had no more pre-recorded videos.
you were half-asleep, your eyes shutting before you heard the front door open.
the sound of footsteps and faint singing gradually got louder as somebody approached the room. chris’ voice got more recognizable as he opened the door, getting closer to the bed.
chris moves your hair out your face, leaving a light kiss to your temple, “you okay?”
you nodded, “tired.”
“what did you do while i was gone?” chris asked softly, making his way to his closet to change into more comfortable clothing.
“nothing really,” you said quietly.
“hm?” he hummed, looking back at you.
“sorry. i didn’t do anything, i was mainly just-“
“stop saying sorry,” chris interrupted, taking off his hoodie, “i start feeling bad.”
“i know, you tell me that every day.” the attitude was evident in your voice, possibly due to the fact you were half awake.
“what’s the attitude for?” chris said innocently, making his way back over to the bed, “did i do something?”
“i don’t have a-“
“shh, stop talking.” he leaned down to kiss your shoulder, sinking into the mattress in his usual position beside you.
he continued to kiss other parts of your body, getting you closer to the sleep you’ve been craving the past hour.
you don’t know how long you’ve been in this position.
your thighs were suffocating chris’ neck as he continued to devour you, unable to stop even after several of your desperate pleas.
you were up to what was supposed to be your fourth orgasm, if chris had let you finish. he would stop as soon as your grip on his hair loosened, your thighs stopped clenching around his neck, and any of the other signs he’s grown used to in the past couple months.
it felt so good, but you were so tired.
“chris, please, i wanna-“
he slapped your thigh, causing you to whimper in response. he continued his movements with his tongue. he didn’t have to use his fingers once.
you groaned once he pulled his face off you again, kissing the areas around your core. you began to grow frustrated from being denied your orgasm several times, sighing once it faded away.
“why can’t i just-“
chris looked up at you, removing his face from between your legs. he pushed your aching legs off his shoulders, starting to push down his pajama pants.
“since you’re so desperate,” he mumbled in your ear, kicking his pants off his ankles, “you don’t get to cum until i tell you to.”
you didn’t respond, watching as he pumped himself a few times, before lining himself up with your entrance.
“now you wanna be quiet?” chris whispered, teasingly grazing your entrance with his tip, “don’t you want me to fuck you?”
you slowly nodded.
“words, baby,” chris kissed under your ear, “i need words.”
“please fuck me chris,” you muttered, blinded by the pleasure you’ve been craving.
“good girl,” he praises, pushing his cock deep inside you. he gave you time to adjust before moving slowly, “feel good?”
quiet whimpers left your lips as he continued to thrust into you, his chest pressing against yours as he leaned over to fuck you at a better angle.
one of his hands moves to your stomach, massaging gently as he continues to stretch you out, “that’s it, baby,” he increased his pace, a loud, surprised moan escaping your lips as he hit that one spot he always manages to find.
you started to feel your orgasm building up, forgetting about his earlier words.
“i’m gonna-“
“no,” chris said, increasing the speed of his hips. he kissed your neck, “hold it.”
you whined as he continued to thrust into you, trying your best to hold in your upcoming orgasm. it was starting to become too overwhelming; it was too much.
“stop… just let me- please…”
“fucking whore,” he muttered, “if you want me to stop so bad you know what to say.”
you stayed silent, holding back your impending orgasm as chris continued to thrust into you, gradually getting more sloppy and out of rhythm.
“please just let me cum,” you whispered, thighs weak as he spread your legs even further.
“fine,” he muttered darkly, trying his best to keep an even pace.
with his words you came on his cock. he groaned from the feeling, pulling out and releasing on your stomach.
he brought his lips to your neck, leaving light fluttery kisses in several different spots.
“too much?”
you nodded.
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pinkrelish · 1 year
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𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.
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singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader
✶What happens when Eddie tries to hide the less-than-fun side of being a single parent from you, and you discover Miss Mouse can't always save the day?✶
NSFW — angst with a happy ending, reader wears eddie's hoodie, comfort, kissing, 18+ overall for smut, drug/alcohol mention/use
chapter: 11/20 [wc: 14.2k]
↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12
AO3
Chapter 11: In the Beginning...
——Then——
In the beginning…
It was January 31st, 1988, and Wayne had come in to check on him again. And maybe he had a reason to when Eddie continued to stare at the pockmarked ceiling, dressed in the same clothes as three days prior, laying on the same bedsheets last washed by well-meaning, pre-aged, liver-spotted, wrinkled hands gnarled from factory work after being tanned on a big rig’s steering wheel for decades.
No music played from the stereo record player; The Doors still sat with the album art turned, stopped mid-spin. The paperback on the nightstand remained unfinished, its dog-eared page trapped as a placeholder from New Year’s Eve. Dust and cigarette ash clung to the room as if saving it in a time capsule of the morning he was arrested, and any movement would disturb the illusion.
“Eddie?” Wayne called out to him with his Free name; one that shouldn’t hold a stigma, because Eddie was a free man, wasn’t he? He was innocent. Even if they hadn’t caught the other guy yet. “You okay if I go?”
Tracing the bumpy lines of the most recent tattoo on his stomach, he answered, “Yeah, I’m fine,” and his uncle breathed as he usually did when he was wringing his mouth with indecision.
Wayne twisted the doorknob, uncertain. “If you’re sure.. And, uh, I’ll stop by the hardware store and pick up somethin’ for the spray paint on the trailer if the cookin’ oil trick doesn’t work, don’t you worry about it.”
Whatever rude thing someone wrote this time, Eddie hadn’t gone outside in days to know.
After a long silence, Wayne cleared his throat and gave a gruff, “I’ll see ya after work,” and left, as foretold by his rackety truck fading further into the night, and the deadness of winter taking over. A staleness of midnight inactivity in the crisp air invading the guitars and amps and magazines Eddie never touched anymore; the ceramic of his bedside lamp, the model car next to his lighter, the binders stacked on his desk with a pencil he hadn’t sharpened since it broke six weeks ago. He didn't get much relief from his routine of ignoring, shutting down, isolating, and desperately trying to get tears to form when he had none left to give, so he wept agape and dry, spiraling downward.
The phone rang.
He wasn’t going to answer—he hadn’t since December unless under obligation—but in case it was Wayne, he did.
“Hello?” The other end of the line was equally hesitant to answer his unrecognizable voice, gone hoarse from disuse. “Hello?” he repeated.
“Eddie?” A beat. “I guess I’ll get this over with. Look, uh, do you remember selling to a girl at Brad’s party a couple months back? Not the Halloween one,” they said, definitely a young woman’s voice, but with each word spoken she lost her fluttery nervous edge and replaced it with a direct tone, leaving no time for him to dawdle.
He hurled his mind into searching his memories before the ones made in the weeks prior, only grazing past the details which haunted him, and registering the question he was asked. “Uh, yeah, yeah I think so. Ah, Sarah? Something generic like that. Sold to her a couple times before. Why?”
Her severe silence loaded the chamber. His forthcoming nature pulled the trigger, never learning when to shut his mouth and keep information to himself. There was no telling who he was speaking to, or what happened to the girl he sold to, or why he was the subject of interest. His stomach clenched in knots at the whiff of gunpowder. He was too relaxed at the prospect of a normal conversation. He said too much. It was happening again. The police sirens would wail any minute now. Whatever happened to Sarah—or whoever—was bad, and he incriminated himself. Oh God. Oh God. Oh God.
But it was her next words that fired the shot. Rang in his ears. And he knew then, as the cold sweat took over his body and bile stung his throat quicker than his heart leapt black spots to his vision, life as he knew it was over.
“I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.”
————
In the beginning…
It was March 7th, 1988, and Eddie walked out.
It was better than listening to Wayne blame himself for not doing enough, or being involved enough, or whateverthefuck he was saying about failing Eddie, because soon those judgments would turn into nags about how Eddie’s irresponsibility got himself into this mess, and those arguments would become shouting matches about his lack of preparedness for raising a baby, and Eddie would end the fight with his fist through the hallway closet door, where his piece of shit father’s jacket swung on the hanger and fell to the floor.
Following the Munson name.
————
In the beginning…
It was April 29th, 1988, and Eddie left his motel room to drive forty-five minutes outside of Hawkins to sit across from a woman in a dimly lit restaurant with her hand laid atop her round belly, and his cold chicken alfredo. The cheese in his oval shaped dish had coagulated, but he wasn’t hungry anyway.
The entire time his mouth ran sentences, he kept his gaze focused on a crumb dirtying the white tablecloth as the candle flickered shadows through their untouched water glasses. Yet, his tone remained animated and optimistic, though a bit hollow. “—So, uh, with the money from workin’ at the gas station, and what I have saved from that graveyard shift I picked up at the laundromat, I can afford the crib no problem. Maybe you could, ah, come with me to pick it out! I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be looking for, but whatever you want, you got it. And—And I’ll start stocking up on diapers, and stuff. Y’know, different sizes. Some clothes. Could even get a nice baby blanket, or somethin’. I guess cribs have those teeny mattresses, so we’ll need sheets for that, too. Um, one of those, y’know, things that hangs over it and spins, puts them to sleep.” His lips hinted at his first smile in weeks at his dumb explanation for a mobile. “And with your job, you have health insurance, don’t you? That’ll.. That’ll really help us out,” he emphasized by bugging his eyes, and nodding. “There’s a position open at an auto shop in town that I’m gonna apply for, but I don’t think insurance will kick in until I work there for a certain number of days. Sucks, but it’s decent money. Better than what I make now, anyway. Um..” Thinking, he sorted through his plan for the future in his head, making sure he didn’t forget anything important—
That’s when he made the mistake of looking up, and a different type of heartache wrung his chest.
Indifference powdered her shimmery beige eyelids, darkening to smoky apathy at the outer corners with a touch of heavy mascara weighing her eyes half-closed. She appeared bored—he wished she appeared bored—but in the eternity he glanced at her, she resembled a loaded chamber moments from cutting him off.
Continuing, he said, “I can also handle the small stuff like bottles, and bibs, and pacifiers. Depending on how much the crib is, I can probably swing the carseat too, just gotta sell my other guitar, and—”
“Eddie,” she stated. He winced.
There was no trace of his smile left on his lips; trembling and licking at the sore metallic-tasting spot he bit out of habit. The first sign of rejection welled behind his eyes. A sense of shame clogged his throat, but he tried, “Are people still bothering you about me?” he asked, so meek and defeated.
Her words were a merciless killing, “Does it matter?” He shrugged, running the side of his hand along the table’s edge, concentrating on the crumb. “And don’t bother buying anything.”
“Why not?” he faltered. “I’m not gonna be some deadbeat who doesn’t provide, okay? I’m good on my word.”
“You know why.”
The cruelty, the truth he denied, struck him.
“You don’t want to try?” His voice went watery, and the candles swam in his vision. “We’re having a baby together, and you don’t want to try and work something out between us?” There was a reason he avoided addressing where the crib would go, or what the arrangement was after coming home from the hospital. In the first few calls they had, she seemed interested when he rattled off the list of cheap apartments he found around Hawkins scribbled into his notebook, and when he lightened the bleak mood with a joke, she laughed, sort of.
Though, he was always the one to call her, and her answers were refined to short words such as yeah, or no. And she did pick up the phone less often, but she was busy with University or her career or there was a family thing that had come up or she was just headed out the door, so he stuck with planning their future by himself, aware of the ugly reality twisting his stomach with dread.
Maybe he was being naive, but he thought she’d come around by now. See how responsible he was being, and maybe.. maybe..
“I’m not interested,” she dismissed him in monotonously stern frankness.
“I thought you said you liked me,” he reminded her, on the verge of something pathetic, “at the party.”
The corner of her jaw twitched from an emotion she ground between her teeth.
That was the final straw.
She swung her gaze around the restaurant, releasing a hard sigh of frustration, and shaking her head. Dropping her hand to the bottom of her belly, she leaned forward, and eviscerated any hope he had for them being together. “I’m not interested,” she hissed under the susurration of nearby tables, “in raising a baby with someone whose reputation is for giving girls discounts when they flirt with him.”
Eddie shrunk into himself, not expecting the hit below the belt.
“You’re just the loser dealer that all the guys send their girls to because they know you’re too lonely to turn them down. I wish I stuck with flirting, because let me tell you, having a couple of smarties to get me through last semester wasn’t fucking worth it.” She motioned at her stomach, he assumed. “I almost missed my finals because I couldn’t stop puking.”
Fat drops wobbled his vision. Anxious sweat from holding his breath prickled his hot face. His knuckles hurt from clacking them against one another, punching bone-on-bone in his lap to distract himself from letting the venom win. Biting impressions of his teeth into tongue from the weight of his one chance at normalcy slipping through his fingers.
The ache of deep-seated rejection stung worse, built worse, escalated worse with every heartbeat echoing in his head: not even someone who’s having your kid wants to be with you.
Chairs skid across the tiles behind him, and a family stood to leave. Eddie faced the stained glass window as they passed, pretending to admire the intricate details while warm tears spilled over the dam, and onto his cheeks in steady drops like rain. Drip, drop, drip, drop..
Embarrassment, failure, freak..
Even before he was wrongfully arrested, his reputation was trash.
Pathetic loser not good enough for his dad, his uncle. Can’t pass fucking high school, or get a girl to stick around for more than a few weeks; just long enough to feel the safety of attachment, learn their likes and dislikes, what their favorite flowers were, and then they’d leave too..
“Doesn’t matter,” she exhaled. One, two—she took two calming breaths through her nose while his was running, and he was trying to not sniffle through the grossness of crying.
Composed and diplomatic, she sat up, smoothed the buttons of her burgundy maternity blouse stretched across her swollen middle, and informed him “I’m giving her up for adoption.”
Eddie froze.
Her.
Tiny tines of salad forks ceased clinking on plates. Silly dull knives unworthy of much else sank into whipped butter, and stopped. Pretty laughter faded, leaving red lipstick kisses staining the rims of wine glasses.
Her.
He froze. A strange cliche to explain how his body reacted. How his heart pounded, and tears splashed onto his clenched fists. How his brain latched onto one word, one word only, and the blood drained from his cheeks to pool liquid rage in his empty belly. How his temper surged like a wave, and crashed, again and again on the shore of fate. How he was thinking sharper, seeing clearer, smelling the raw flame of the candle being snuffed out from his sudden movement.
The tableware rattled when he planted his elbow next to his forgotten dinner, and pointed a stern finger at her stomach. “That’s my daughter, and you will not—”
“C’mon, Ed—”
“No,” he cut her off. He didn’t give a damn if another tear rolled from his wide eyes when he said it, he put conviction behind his voice even when it cracked, “That’s my daughter, and you are not giving her up for adoption.”
“Be serious,” she spat back. “You don’t have the means to take care of a baby. I’m doing this as a favor for the both of us. Mostly for you.”
Eddie sucked his bottom lip inward and chewed the flesh. Shivers of indignation trembled his body, and his nostrils flared from the absolute power he invoked to rein his voice from the snap, bite, snarl his upper lip suggested. “I don’t care what you think is best,” he maintained through the viscous tar coating his refusal in the abhorrence she deserved. “That baby.. She’s mine.” He nodded until the motion was ingrained, and her expression changed. Pointing to himself, now. “She’s mine, and I want her.”
There wasn’t much thought put behind his decision. It was done. It was innate. It was automatic, and her soft warning—”You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into,”—was as heeded as the candle’s flame.
He paid for the date. It cost five hours of his minimum wage. That was all his money. He was hungry when he got back to his shitty motel; opening the door to darkness, and a suitcase of dirty clothes he’d need to sort before going to work at the gas station at the edge of town where his boss cut his hours last week because it was making customers uncomfortable to see a criminal serve them at the till, and a new sound replaced the ding of the cash register: loser, loser, loser..
Already, he couldn’t afford diapers.
Already, he failed.
Already, he was worthless.
Already, he was alone.
Not even the woman he was having a baby with wanted to be with him.
——Now——
Eddie hung up the phone, and you watched his shoulders rise and fall for long moments, listening to the rain pattern shift above. The storm spilled its sorrows on the tin roof, uncaring if the structure could handle the stress of another trial when it was weak and susceptible. It poured, and poured. Ruthless. Vicious and brutal as nature could be, targeting the vulnerable and strong alike.
His back broadened with a breath, and finally, he dropped his hand from the yellowed plastic, staring at the dial pad as his arm went limp at his side. Absorbed by his thoughts as the old night rolled into another low growl of thunder, and whatever was on his mind reflected heavily in his vacant appearance.
“Ed?” You waited for him with a kind lift to your brows, but as soon as his glance landed, your chest tightened.
The emotion in Eddie’s eyes was heavily guarded, communicating little as to what caused the tenseness in his jaw when he averted his gaze to the floor, walking fast and purposefully away from you standing half-dressed in his kitchen, and stopping at the front door with his head down. Going through the motions of buttoning his pants, and buckling his belt, rigid and rough, snapping the leather against itself.
“Is Adrie okay?” you asked, voice coming out painfully shallow, like when you were using it to diffuse a customer service issue with the breeze of happiness and a plastered smile.
Leaned over, he shoved his feet into his boots, and began lacing. “She’s fine.”
Blunt, and closed off. Not like your Eddie from an hour ago. And you didn’t know how to navigate asking him what was wrong, and easing him into opening up to you, coaxing him back to that place of union and understanding.
Left feeling confused, you gleaned that this wasn’t the time to bother him about it, and mumbled, “Okay,” and assumed the rest. You dragged the whispery ends of the blanket across the floor, and picked your sweater off the carpet, having that particular sense of embarrassment as if you’d missed a cue, and should’ve read the room sooner, and been clothed and leaving without him asking.
You dressed in silence, doing up the buttons on the cardigan he so skillfully slipped you out of. Treading over linoleum to wash the evening off your hands and mouth. Making yourself small to fit next to him in the entryway, and putting on your shoes in a state of quiet obedience, missing the warmth of his hands and the comfort of his lovesick grin. Wilting under the coldness of his attitude, and wanting nothing more than to reach out, and soothe that bit of regret knotted between his eyebrows.
He regarded the exposed skin of your upper chest, and handed you his black hoodie from where it hung next to his canvas work jacket. “Here.”
Here wasn’t much of a break in the distance he resurrected between you, but you pulled the heavy scent of cigarettes and cologne over your head, and he almost found himself braving eye contact to tell you, “I’m dropping you off first.”
“What? No,” you blurted, “I’m going with you to pick her up. She’s just scared of thunderstorms, right? No big deal, you can drop me off after.” Which seemed like the right thing to say; that you were fine with Adrie crying, but when he set his gaze on you, a small image of yourself swam in his endless pupils, and your stomach clenched at the animal warning in his unbreakable stare.
Eddie shook his head an imperceptible amount, only enough to loosen the curtain of curls tucked beneath his jacket’s collar, and shift the lamp’s glare at the edge of his bitter coffee eyes. It was a threat to back off. Leave well enough alone. Stop encroaching on the parts of his life he hid, and keep the illusion intact.
“I wanna go,” you assured gently.
However, your support fell short when challenged against the aggressive shine swallowing you whole. He looked at you. Really looked at you with the same intensity as when his hands were on your hips and you rocked yourself in his lap, chests flush together with a lazy prayer of your name on his tongue; when nothing mattered more than honoring each other with lips and teeth, tasting sweat on necks and sucking bruises until moans were spilled from heads thrown back. But instead of unraveling you in shocks of pleasure, the ignorance of your child-free lifestyle softened the harsh lines of his face, and slowly, slowly, the shine dulled. The fight left him.
He saved his apology until his back was turned, and the squeaky doorknob gave under his heavy palm—turning it with too much force—and he cracked open the world beyond the two of you, dousing the lingering tenderness of your affection on his skin with frigid mist. “Sorry tonight ended this way.” The door banged open on the rusted iron handrail, caught on a gust.
The trailer park was bright with daylight. Flash, after flash.
Eddie’s silhouette eclipsed the doorway, outlined in lightning. He stood impossibly taller—like the animal threat still lurked within his structure, and caution stayed within your subconscious, altering how you perceived his lanky frame into something more imposing. His shoulders carried many burdens, bulked from five years of hard labor, possessing strengths you couldn’t imagine. He stepped to the side, insisting the door stay open with the spread of five fingers only, and his body no longer shielded you. You were exposed to the cold splash of rain on your shins. His palm was firm at your lower back, and you peered up at the hard set of his jaw feathering the muscle at the corner, sweeping the bone in a mature edge of stubble. Strands of his frizzy hair whipped in the wind. Droplets speckled his nose like freckles. His gaze, anchored on his car through the downpour, brewed with resentment.
His deep timber resonated in your chest beneath the safety of his hoodie, “Car door’s open, I’ll lock up behind you.”
And you were pushed.
Beaten down to a hunch, you took careful strides in your heeled shoes down the concrete steps and into the soft mud, covering your head as best you could from the cloud’s assault, and flinching at the closeness of the strikes darting around the boundary of treetops surrounding the trailer park. You tried the handle, and the car welcomed you into its dry insides. Guilt followed your tracks of caked on mud, leaves, and dead weeds on his nice red interior, but when you shivered to the bone, you didn’t care as much. Curled in on yourself, you spied Eddie’s vague shape through the waterfall blurring the windshield, and listened to his heavy boots trudge up to the door, and soon, the car sank with his weight too.
The engine roared to life. Heat wouldn’t come from the tiny AC units for some time, but the promise of such gave you hope. Eddie, beside you, drenched beyond measure, did not match your enthusiasm. Shadowed streams snaked across his pinched expression, swimming down his heavy brow, and splitting his raw lips. His bangs stuck to his forehead, and his cheeks trembled from his clacking teeth.
Soft music played from the radio station.
Riders on the Storm.
Two booms of thunder ended your small attempt at a smile from the timing.
Leftover adrenaline pulsed in your veins, fumbling your grip on the seatbelt. Wet earth and unease stroked your skin like skeletal hands, muddying your tights, and soaking his hoodie, weighing it down to your crushed sweater beneath. You wanted to speak; to poke, to prod, to press him to talk to you. The questions were there. On your tongue. At the ready; inviting him to tell you why his mood soured over a situation out of his control, other than the obvious weather.
But Eddie’s face was carved with irritation, baring his teeth as he attempted to buff circles into the icy fog on the windshield, only for it to cloud over in an instant. “C’mon..”
The wipers couldn’t keep up with the powerful current, and the tires struggled to find traction. “Fucking—damnit,” he said, interrupted by him slapping the steering wheel, cascading water off his work jacket, and onto every surface around him.
You twisted your hands in your lap at his mild slip in temper.
Now was not the time to bother him.
In a lurch, your shoulder bumped the door, and your head rocked side to side from the car backing over the swell of mud behind the tires. With another frustrated stomp on the gas, it evened out on paved road, and though the visibility was low, you were off towards the nicer side of Hawkins.
For once, he drove responsibly. Street signs could be read before he passed them. Fallen limbs in the road could be avoided, not ran over. His rings tinked off the glass when he rubbed at the thin fog, and the music was dialed to a somber ambiance behind the deep sighs through his nose. Dark stretches of treetops bent to the wind’s will. Short buildings sat so dim beyond the faint streetlights, they might as well have been deserted. Each red light was a necessary break for him to shove his fingers in the air vents to thaw them.
He never spoke. Never looked at you. He kept himself busy with tasks, and when those tasks were over and his hands were defrosted and the windshield was mostly clear, he regressed within himself. Unnervingly quiet. Turning onto streets with heavier regrets sagging his features the longer he crawled in front of white picket fence houses, and stopped.
The two story home was lit beautifully by the ornate sconces placed on either side of the doorway. Their lawn was manicured, and the sidewalk was free of weeds. No cars were at the mercy of the storm, they were parked inside the two-door garages. There was activity behind the embossed curtains hung in the living room of the residence. Presumably, the biggest shape was the father who called over the phone.
Someone who wore a business suit to the preschool’s Thanksgiving play lived here.
Eddie stalled. He remained seated forward, hands gripped at 10 and 2, squeezing the steering wheel as rain echoed in the belly of the car, battering the roof inches above your damp hair. There was a pause in his movements, his breathing. An awareness in his silence at the questions you didn’t ask. Tension in his pursed lips, rubbing them together as he surveyed the street.
He opened his mouth. Then, he thought better of it, and got out.
Your earnest call of his name was swallowed by the sea cleansing his body of your night together.
Leaping up the bullnose brick stairs, Eddie raised his hand, but before he could knock, the artisanal stained glass shimmered with movement. The immaculate door opened to a winced face. The man’s glasses were askew on his aged eyes, and his peppered hair hung over his eyebrows, no longer gelled back. He exchanged a few tight words with Eddie as Adrie was handed over, and Eddie, of course, shuffled into a meek posture, dipping his head, apologizing profusely. Almost bowing to this man dressed in matching pajamas and a robe. In horror, you watched the door close during one such apology. You could tell it happened in the middle of him speaking, because you had to sit through the agony of Eddie animatedly explaining something only for him to look up, straighten at the realization, and stand there for a few more seconds until the sconces dimmed off.
Worse, still, he cowered in the nook as cruel rain belted his back, doing his best to bundle Adrie in her tattered quilt and securing her on his hip, keeping all of her dry except her little legs wrapped around his middle. She buried her face in his neck, and he hesitated on the balls of his feet, judging the distance between the house and the car. His large palm covered the blanket over her head. All he had was his jacket.
Lightning revealed his weary frown.
At the clap of thunder, he sprinted.
Back in New York, at the going away party your friends threw in your and Robin’s honor, they warned you about moving to the Tornado Alley, and what to look for if one were to appear—green skies and all—but most importantly, they told you an incoming tornado sounded like a train. Being city dwellers, they wouldn’t actually know, but Robin confirmed it. And now you could too, because the piercing wail coming towards you could only belong to a natural disaster, not a four-year-old girl.
Murky water flooded to Eddie’s ankles from where it rushed against the sidewalk, sloshing in with his boot stomped to the floorboard for balance as he ducked inside amidst the fuss. He got Adrie into her carseat as quickly as possible. In the chaos, her overnight backpack fell somewhere in the dark, her quilt was chucked aside, and he cursed when the buckle bit into his thumb. She had a fistful of his hair, tangling it, making it harder to see what he was doing. He may have even threatened her full name to let go. It was hard to hear on account of the shrieking.
“Daddy!” The vowels were elongated, broken by hiccups. He shut the door, and in the small space with no escape, her big emotions rang louder. “Daddy!” Again, the y was screamed with the full power of her lungs, which would be impressive for their tiny size if it wasn’t for the pounding in your skull. She hollered louder when he sat heavily behind the wheel, “Daddy!” He didn’t shush her fourth tantrum spilt on his name; he accepted it, knowing it was futile.
It took all your strength to blink. Sat half-turned in your seat, frozen, gaze unfocused, marveling at your brain’s ability to function. You shifted your attention to Eddie’s face, a surprising few inches from yours.
The heat of his concentration scorched shame to your cheeks.
Avoidant no longer, your reaction to Adrie’s meltdown was the sole subject of his interest. Zeroed in on, dissected, and picked apart by just his eyes alone. Didn’t matter which eye you shied from, you were pinned in both, your discomfort blatant for him to witness. Your clamped mouth, your apologetic withdrawal, your fidgety fingers on your skirt; all of it. All of it was captured in his periphery because he didn’t dare break sight as he turned the key in the ignition, and started a raucous engine you couldn’t remember being turned off.
Humbled by the girl assaulting your senses, your questions were answered.
This was why he didn’t want you to come. This was why he slighted you with a pointed look from the recesses of his annoyance when you trivialized his daughter’s behavior as ‘No big deal.’ This was why he kept you separate from his parental sphere where everything wasn’t made of sunshine and rainbows. This—coming to terms with your inexperience staining each uncontrollable contortion of your unprepared expression—was why he never let anyone near his heart.
Adrie could no longer form his name through her open-mouthed cries, resorting to plain, wet screams which trilled past your eardrums, resulting in a throbbing headache.
At that, he grasped the gear shift, put his boot to the gas, and cut fat lines through the river overflowing the pampered neighborhood streets.
Eddie’s anger was a presence. His embarrassment, too. Just like at the auto shop when problems stacked and stacked into an unbearable weight on top of his sleepless nights and long mornings, he turned inward to delay his outburst. To feel everything so fully in his fists wringing the leather covered steering wheel until it creaked, and teeth gritted until they begged no more. Just that one second to release his frustration, and then it was suppressed from sight. But you felt it. His ire rested below your braced muscles, beneath your clammy palms and in your shallow breath. It invaded the tidy home you kept behind your ribs, taking up residence in your hammering heart.
The humiliation of having the date end when it did paid its dues in his bad mood. Disappointment radiated off his narrowed eyes, and slack frown. “Adrie,” he warned in a low tone.
She bawled louder, shriller than the crack of lightning.
The immense pressure to adapt was upon you. There was no sense in parsing what he expected you to do in this situation, it was clear he was soured by your ineptitude the moment you let it show on your face, but.. Only two short weeks ago, he relied on you to divert Adrie’s meltdown before DND night. And sure, she had already stopped crying by the time you got there, but you could come to his rescue again, couldn’t you?
You twisted around in your seat, proud of yourself for thinking of a solution, and showed him you could handle a modicum of parenthood. “Adrie, look!” you tamped down your children’s television host voice to a delightful, excited cheer, “I’m here. Miss Mouse is—!” Shocked with your hand reaching towards her, shooting pain traveled up your arm from her swift kick to your wrist. You recoiled, rubbing at your forearm without blame. It wasn’t her fault. She wasn’t even looking at you. Her fit was directed at the window she couldn’t peel her attention from, dropping tear after tear from her swollen eyes at the thunder shaking the car. “Adrie?” you tried softer, but she beat her hands on the carseat harder. Wailed until you were defeated to a wince. Yelled until you accepted a unique heartbreak you weren’t prepared for.
Miss Mouse couldn’t always save the day.
Acute twists of rejection wrung your chest. Eddie wasn’t the type to say I told you so, he wasn’t mean like that, but when you sat forward and your gazes moved past one another, never quite meeting, you knew what he was thinking.
Little else stung worse than his obvious cynicism at how this date was concluding.
Exacerbating the issue, Adrie escalated to screeching her distress. Every open sob of hers pulled your focus, invaded your brainspace, overpowered any thought before it began, and set your teeth on edge from the high-pitched squeals you swore vibrated in your bones. Her behavior seeped into your nerves, winding them up, scratching them with the very tip of a brittle nail, inciting a riot. The need to flee crawled under your skin. Breathing was uncomfortable. Your ankle hurt. There was to break in between the blinding pulses of your headache. The car was too hot, too cold, too swerving from the high winds buffeting it sideways. Your tights were too tight. His hoodie too stifling. Itchy yarn from your sweater chafed your damp neck. Alarms of panic battled inside. Louder, louder, louder—Adrie cried louder. Eddie’s lips tugged down at the corners, chin wrinkled, tensing his face from a sadder response. Your lashes fluttered from the chokehold his frown had on you. Fingernails bit your palms. You tried to bide your time, to resist snapping. Dug down deep for something, something you could do, something.. innate. Some answer within you to fix it all. To get her to stop. To get him to relax. Something, something, something—instinctual.
“Pull over!” you barked; Eddie had every right to whip his head around at your sudden demand, but in your panicked state you only cared about the road ahead. “Ju-Just—just—” You scanned the dark parking lot outside the hardware store, and stabbed your finger on the cold window, pointing past it. “The gas station! Under the roof-thing.”
When it wasn’t clear he heard you, you turned towards him at the same time he leaned forward to catch your eye. Justifiable skepticism burdened his brow, tightening the edges of his crow’s feet. His lips hung parted with a confirmation hesitating between them; however, it was silenced after you maintained your need, and the fight against the wind won.
Soppy pebbles scraped wet asphalt, muddied in the bump and grind from Eddie turning too sharply into the sloped driveway, banging into a pothole, and rattling the innards of his already rocky cargo. He careened towards the closed convenience store with its row of dim fluorescent lights inside. Pulling up alongside the gas pumps, he slammed the breaks. A second later, he slapped the windshield wipers OFF, violently shushing their grating squeak.
His patience strained thinner. Working through the sensory overload festering like infected wounds on blistered skin, he rumbled a shallow apology past his aching teeth. Quickly, it devolved into a barrage of doubt. “Look, I’m sorry she—Wait, where’re you—?” The instant fear of rejection shot past his octave. “Wait! Please don’t—”
Cruelly, he thought; heartlessly, he knew; the sun-faded black cotton draped about your shoulders was the last image his adrenaline latched onto, playing it over, and over, door slam and all. He wasn’t parked for more than a clock tick, and you hurled yourself out into the storm, leaving him behind. His first assumption was gentle. Kind whispers stroked the angst in his chest, telling him you needed a break from the noise, that was all. Then the hatred of abandonment gutted his center.
“Giving up already?” he asked aloud in a conclusion only meant to hurt himself when no one was there to answer.
As if sensing his hopelessness, Adrie sniffled into the worst of her hyperventilated cries. Broken disjointed things. Sinking him deeper, deeper into his seat, crossing his arms over his caved chest, shuddering at the hot sting wobbling his vision at his own inadequacy.
Never good enough for anyone to stay.
Tremors of repressed memories wakened the churn of nausea making him sick.
“Baby, baby, it’s okay,” soothed a voice behind him, trickling in with the splash of faraway drops. “It’s okay, sweet baby, I’m here. I’ve got you. I’m here.”
Eddie jerked his chin up and stretched his neck to see into the rearview mirror. The wall of water teetering on his lash line made everything blur, so he tugged down the slick skin beneath his eyes to suck back the tears, and almost allowed them to spill at the scene behind him anyway.
In the reflection, you crawled across the backseat and unbuckled Adrie’s carseat, learning how to maneuver the straps from watching him. She reached for you, your hair, your clothes; small fists belying their strength. You didn’t care. You calmed her struggles with pretty words. “It’s okay, yeah, you can hold on to me, baby. Let’s get you wrapped up nice and warm. There we go.” Shhh. “Let me see your face, so I can clean you up.” Shhh.
“M–M-Mizz Mou—se,” Adrie got out between body-wracked sobs.
“Mhm, I’m here.” Shhh. “Miss Mouse is here.”
—Oh.
“Baby..” So modest was his whisper when so resolute was his yearn.
He leapt into motion, flushed with adrenaline.
The ripple effect of your actions caused tidal waves to swell and crash over him; body hitched in the place where his past convinced him he lost it all, only to collapse into a stuttered exhale of acceptance, understanding there was someone out there who cared about him to this degree; throat constricting with gratitude he could only express by stumbling out into the foggy cold, throwing open the door, and sliding into the backseat with you.
His fingers grazed the baby hairs at your nape on their way to the side of your head, using his wide palm which took up too much room to cradle you steady with a gentleness unknown to his tough skin. He trusted you to forgive him for how hard he knocked his forehead to your temple, and smashed his nose to the soft of your cheek. He need not worry. Beautifully, you adjusted to the bulky arm behind your neck, leaned into the crook of his body he hollowed out for you, and filled the familiar place at his side. You worked diligently to clear his daughter’s face while he passed a strong hand over her back and dropped it to shape his grip at the end of your thigh, curving his fingers in and slotting them to the underside, behind your knee.
“S’okay, Adrie,” you cooed, wiping at the sticky grossness clinging to her nose. “I’ve got you,” you continued the mantra, albeit with a lapse in motherly tenderness as a result of trying not to gag too hard.
Outside the car, the gas station’s tall canopy provided enough coverage to stop the rain from pounding the roof. Harsh winds howled past, encouraging the woeful sobs dropped onto your breasts, but the lightning stayed within the clouds, and the thunder faded in the distance. “Look at me,” you guided, sweeping the hoodie’s cuff over her puffy cheeks glowing splotchy red from the neon beer signs in the postered up convenience store windows. “We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.”
Eddie lips pulled thin against your skin, breath stuttering damp and thick on your neck like a smothered cry.
“Nothing bad can happen when we’re here, okay?” Repeating the union of you and him, you went on, “We’ve got you. You’re safe with us. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here. Right, sweet bean?” You tucked the quilt around her feet, and held her close. “We won’t let anything bad happen to you, ever.”
With her hands latched into the folds of fabric around your neck—cotton, yarn, and canvas—her big coughs were cushioned by your arms snuggling her to your front while Eddie’s chest was at her back, embracing her between your two bodies converging to protect her in a toasty nest. Warm air hummed from the vents, shooing off the stale chill clinging to the backseat, now disturbed by activity and plucky guitar strings playing over the radio.
Across the Universe.
Undertaking the complexities of the man rubbing his forehead into your hair with the same sort of neediness as his little girl wringing your clothes, you assumed the responsibility of consoling them both. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you mumbled the lyrics into the patchwork quilt covering Adrie’s curls. “Nothings gonna change my world,” you sang to Eddie, face tipped up and eyes falling closed, seeking out his nose to trace the tip of yours along the soft bumps in a devoted offering after the turbulent events causing you both inner strife.
His fingertips became an imposing force spread across the scope of your cheek, turning you toward him, capturing you in a deeper kiss than you were ready for. It was demanding, hard with desperation, misaligned and urgent. Born out of necessity in the moment. He kissed you in front of his daughter, where she could see if she picked her face up from your chest, and a dart of surprise lit your heart at the recklessness. You kept a level hand atop her head in case he’d come to regret the decision, but he didn’t seem to notice, or care. He sighed into a second helping, and at the sound of the wet smack, she stirred.
Adrienne hooked her fingers into your collar and sniffled hard, soothing herself from further cries by hugging you tight, huddling into your comfort, oblivious to what was happening around her.
Easily, you fell into the third kiss. Became what he needed, mouths mashing together at the odd angle, your lower lip plush between his. Dizzying amounts of reverence manifested in his spontaneity. He packed a lifetime’s worth of bottled up feelings into the affection he was privileged to. Giving, and taking. But his impulses were still a puzzle. When he’d drank his fill, he squeezed your leg, broke apart from your lips in a silent slick slide, and drew a deserved breath.
“Sorry, no one’s ever just.. done that for me before.” He shrugged his hand off your thigh at the poor summary of the millions of things on his mind, and left it at that.
Spurred by the praise, you seized the opportunity for communication. “Remember how before we played DND that night, I told you to call me first next time you needed help?” you reminded him, and something vulnerable, maybe even pleadful, entered your tone. “I want to be someone you can rely on, Eddie.”
An unfortunate amount of complicated emotions passed in his eyes. There wasn’t much to garner from them, nor his soft grunt when he dropped his nose to the column of your neck, above Adrie’s head, and regressed into his quiet self. Reserved. Hard to decipher. He did speak up once to warn you she would fall asleep with how you were holding her—same as he did most nights on the couch while Late Night with David Letterman aired—and you embellished your promise to him with a kiss to the stringy curls frizzing at his scalp, “That’s okay.”
And it was okay, truly, when the storm raged heaves of rain against the car, spraying the windows with shocks of water. You dabbed Adrie’s cheeks. Wiped her nose. Rocked her in the same tempo as the backs of Eddie’s fingers stroking your cheekbone, flexed bicep behind your neck. Thunder occurred. Lightning happened. But with your quick thinking, lulling gestures, and genuine effort to speak past the fondness clogging your throat, you calmed her. Calmed her so well, in fact, her hands went limp and her body relaxed, fatigue claiming her victim to the numbered sheep hopping over fences in her dreams. After her tantrums, she was taxed out. Drained.
Stuck in the cramped middle between Eddie and the carseat, you rearranged your legs before they went tingly numb from her weight on your lap, and shifted the pressure off your heels. It was sweet having her fall asleep on you. Her slow breaths filled your arms as a reward for your efforts to hush her. The quilt smelled of their home, cozying itself in your lungs and sweeping you in a sense of longing for the humidity in his kitchen after making soup.
Though, as much as you thrived on the temporary role you played as parent—taking over for Eddie and dwelling on the fact Adrie slept propped on your chest like the many times she napped on his stained coveralls—you could do without the additional pain of him leaning on you too.
You groaned at the sharp twinge in your spine from slouching sideways, and conveniently, your movement roused his consciousness. He launched into a sleepy inhale. Robust, filling his lungs to the brim, too loud, too silly and sweet. He primed you for a solid press of the bridge of his nose to your jaw by thumbing you towards him, after which he pulled away, separating himself from you fully.
Eddie rolled his shoulders, stretching out from the uncomfortable position, and faced the window. He commented in a sincere tone, “You’re good with kids.”
“I know how to entertain kids,” you corrected him. “I don’t know how to do any of the hard shit you do.”
The streetlights painted strokes of dotted orange on his complexion cast in shadow. He played with the tips of his fingers, squishing each one in a line as he ruminated, staring elsewhere, perspiration blurring the outerworld, sealing yourselves in this crowded car together. “You do a good job,” he reassured, petering out in a hoarse whisper.
Ceaseless nerves gnawed at his absent-minded ring spinning. Not a big production like when he wrung his hands or bit his nails, but enough to show he was getting anxious. You’d expected his leg to be bouncing by now, but it was laying softly against yours. Something big was on his mind.
You bumped your knee into his. “Talk to me.”
Talk to me. Yes, you asked the world of him. You knew it, too. Encouraging his gaze to flick to Adrie bundled in your arms, and back to the window. His eyes weren’t wide with fear, just larger than normal at the subtle confrontation. It was time he opened up to you. There wasn’t a concrete ultimatum if he didn’t, but there was a mutual understanding that if this were to continue, he needed to trust you to be there for him. No more reluctance.
He extended his hand towards your knee, patting twice before claiming it in the great breadth of his palm, stroking his thumb over the thin pantyhose; bridging the gap from his earlier behavior, but not yet apologizing for the soreness he caused.
Sorting his thoughts, his throat bobbed twice on the swallow.
And of all the questions he could ask, of all things he could say, of all the topics he could choose, he picked, “Did you ever want kids?”
Heat swam to your cheeks, blood rushed to your ears. Buds of true belonging bloomed at the question, adorning stems of untended longing first planted during the Christmas party at work, ever growing. Your heart pumped faster at the inherent past and implied future of the subject. His curiosity was a mild prod, perhaps not meant to encourage these leaps in logic considering he announced it in the same buckled cadence of someone who was asking about the weather—and yet, the hold it had on you was impossible to deny. A blend of you, Adrie, and him, just like now, but in different contexts—different meanings other than sitting in the back of his car—something domestic, like being piled together on the couch watching Disney movies; that’s what was pushed to the forefront of your mind.
But, despite those instantaneous fantasies, this was a place for honesty, and the significance of your pause between his question and yours was an entity of its own, stiff like his posture.
“Are you ready for this conversation?” you checked. He fostered an anxious glance and nod. “Having kids is not something I ever saw for myself, no.”  The consequence of your answer marked his immediate dropped eye contact, but ever patient with him, you continued strongly, “With how I dated and moved around, I didn’t think it was for me, that sort of lifestyle. It’s just not something I put a lot of thought into except when my friends were having kids, and really, they kinda turned me off of the idea. Pregnancy sounds.. daunting. Or—you know—really fucking scary. They’d always talk about how awful it is, all the complications you could have, the risks, the near death experience in one case,” you broke off in a squirm. “And then you don’t even get the relief once the baby comes. Like, seriously, taking care of a newborn sounds straight up terrifying.”
Eddie cracked. His hiss of laughter was a welcomed reprieve, especially when it sank to his chest, gripping his shoulders in a hearty shake. “Y-Yeah,” he got out, face crinkled in all the ways you adored, “it is straight up terrifying.”
You giggled in the softest way, careful to not disturb Adrie’s shallow breaths, and careful to not swoon too head-over-heels over the image of him rocking a baby. “It seems easier when they’re older, though,” you said, broaching the real crux of the conversation with your chin dipped to the top of her head. “Like it’s not as bad when they can actually communicate why they’re crying, or tell you what’s bothering them.”
“Not necessarily easier, just different,” he clarified. “It’s less about making sure this little tiny thing that can choke on its own snot survives the night, and more about the emotionally draining problems like her telling you about her day at preschool, explaining a situation where a group of kids kept giving her tasks to do that sent her away, and she’s smiling so big when she’s telling you, thinking it was a game, but deep down you’re just waiting for the heartbreak years down the line when she realizes they gave her errands to run because they were excluding her, and the reason they were laughing every time she came back was because they took joy in being mean to her.”
Wilt tinted your faint, “Oh..”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He upped the pressure he used to pat and rub your knee. “S’part of life.”
Consumed by his side profile, you studied the scope of his impassive expression set on the premature lines edging his face. The urge to find the right thing to say amidst the convoluted churn of anger on his behalf, and sadness on Adrie’s, itched something fierce beneath your skin. Ultimately, no words of inspiration came.
Eddie took an anticipatory breath.
The radio garbled advertisements for the station’s sponsors.
“Still wouldn’t trade it for those first months when she was a newborn, though.” Pursing his mouth thin, he rolled his lips inward with a hardened brow, releasing and scrunching tension around his nose as he shook his head slowly, addressing the memories of those days with a shine of pain to his eyes, and a loud smack of his tongue. “The moment I found out Adrie’s mom was pregnant, I wanted to do the right thing—y’know?” He took his hand off your leg to demonstrate the narrow path he followed. “Kept my head down, stayed focused, didn’t bother anybody, got a real job, and kept my mouth shut. Lotta places didn’t wanna hire me, obviously, but I applied anywhere I could, and when I got the job, I’d go get another one on a different shift, and another one on a graveyard shift. Sold whatever I had—guitars, ‘nd shit—bought what I could with the money. I wanted to be a good man. Be a provider. Be worth something.” Scrubbing his shaky fingers over the stubble on his chin, he aimed to calm himself, but when bringing up the Hell he went through during those times, there was little to stop his pitch from wavering. “Still wasn’t good enough.”
A verdict aimed at him flippantly, yet the impact on his self-esteem was immeasurable.
Gathering himself, he licked the inside of his cheek, and explained, “In the beginning, when Adrie was born, I tried to make it on my own. Locked in this little motel room with a crying baby. Couldn’t go to work. Didn’t have anyone to call to watch her for me, y’know, didn’t.. didn’t have anyone to rely on after walking out on my uncle, and isolating myself from my friends. The people at the bullshit resource center said I wasn’t eligible for benefits because they were for single moms, not dads. And child support was taking too long to kick in. Not like it mattered when it couldn’t pay for a single canister of Similac. I didn’t have fucking anything. Or know anything.”
His shame was only beginning to unravel.
“There were these free classes at a clinic for expecting parents, but I..” He dropped his knuckles to his thigh and fed them along the coarse cotton, using the friction to burn away the guilt. “I-I didn’t go. I didn’t want to go alone. Be the only guy there, by myself. Have all these people w-who might know who I am fucking.. fucking staring at me.” With how he was looking down at his lap, rocking slightly with his movement, he stood no chance against the wall of tears damming at his lashes. “I didn’t want to go because of my sense of pride, and my baby suffered because of it.”
“Eddie, that’s not true—” you stepped in.
Three effective beats of his fist on his leg, and you were left to witness his face crumple from the utter contempt he had for himself.
“It is true,” his volume fluctuated in jumps. “She wouldn’t eat. She wouldn’t fucking eat and keep it down.” Droplets splashed his jeans in unyielding splats. Drip, drop, drip, drop.. They slipped and spread in splotches of salty remorse he couldn’t wipe away quick enough. “Nothing worked. Couldn’t get her to latch onto a bottle, and, and—I didn’t know, I didn’t know I wasn’t supposed to microwave the formula, but she wouldn’t take it room temp, so if it was too hot she’d just scream at me until it wasn’t, and I–I just—I was having these breakdowns, I don’t know. I blacked out, and next thing I knew, I was at Harrington’s, and Nancy was taking care of her for me.” The emphasis alluded to much, though the fact their son was only a year older, and Nancy would still be producing milk said it all. 
Frantic breaths which wouldn’t catch were pulled past grimaced lips parted on the unrefined sob his confession emerged on. “I never wanted to be with Adrie’s mom, but proving what she said was right, th-that I was a fucking loser who didn’t know what he was doing, it-it-it.” In a desperate flourish, he pointed at his temple, It lives in here, and another tear clung to the tip of his nose, smeared by the back of his wrist.
Stunned useless by the suffocating urge to help him, you blanked. Sat still while your favorite mechanic reduced himself to the wrong opinion of others; the same person who showed his gentle nature by picking worms out of the garage after a heavy rain so they didn’t dry out. Remaining frozen while silent pain wracked your friend’s held breath, heaved and shuddered out as a cough into the same palm he used to catch your ankle when he challenged you to a race on the creepers, and he had to cheat to win before you beat him to the service door. Saying, “Baby, no,” to the man who snuck a smirk over his daughter’s head when he caught you doting over her as she sat on his hip, and the smell of Christmas potluck embedded itself into the memory of Eddie’s eyes hinting at a deeper glint than the tease on his grin.
“I am a fucking failure,” he seeped out his regret. “C-Couldn’t give her what she needed. I still can’t. Still can’t give her what she wants, ever. T-T-Tellin’ her I can’t get her something when she asks for it—and the disappointment. Just a piece of shit who disappoints her. Never good enough—” There was another high-pitched stutter, but it was muffled behind his trembling hands covering his face, and smothered by your intervention.
“Eddie, Eddie, Eddie,” you shot out, hand and voice working together to untangle the trauma his knotted fingers attempted to hide. “Listen to me.” No please, but no lack of kindness, either. “You are not a disappointment. Not then, not now, not ever. Do you hear me? You’re not any of those things.” You tugged at the canvas jacket around his stiff arms tucked tight to his body, and rocked him away from his huddle against the door.
In the aftermath of your scramble to comfort him, Adrienne startled awake. Her soft hmm? became a grunty whine when the sensation of slipping backwards disoriented her. “Daddy?” One of her fists found your hoodie for balance, but her groggy curiosity dealt a heartbreaking blow.
She traced the wet trail on his cheek, encountered a tear in its path, and broke the droplet’s surface tension on her finger, wondering aloud, “Why’s Daddy crying?”
Thinking quickly, you used your muscles earned through unloading car parts from delivery trucks, and scooped her from your lap onto his, diverting the nuance of grown-up-problems by fumbling out, “Daddies cry sometimes, too. Have you told him you love him today? Can you tell him? It’ll make him feel better. Please, Miss Adrie?” Whether or not it was the perfect phrasing wasn’t important. What mattered was the unsuspecting gratitude laden at the base of his frown.
“I love you, Daddy,” Adrie said, latching her arms around his neck. “I love you.”
“You’re a good man,” you added, and rolled onto your hip, fitting your body to his side. You nosed through his long, frazzly curls, and spoke earnestly, but softly into his ear, “You’re a good man, Eddie. Look at how well you take care of her. Look at how well fed, clothed, and happy she is. You make her so happy.. You make me happy, too. You’re the best dad I’ve ever met. No one else compares.”
He dragged a sniffle from his last sob into an unintelligible mumble.
“I’m here.” Shh. “I’m here.” You included Adrie in your hug as you brought your hand up to the other side of his flustered hot face, blending your fingers through the hair stuck to the sweat and stubble on his jaw. “We’re here for you. We’ve got you. Nothing bad can happen when we’re here.” Sweet with conviction, “It’s okay, handsome, I’ve got you.”
Overwhelmed by the small I love you, Daddy, on one side, followed by You’re a good man, on the other, his inhale shivered, and he cuddled Adrie to him for a watery, “I love you, too.” Croaky and real, and mouth agape on an ugly cry he let you witness until his needy reach cupped the back of your head, and smushed you to his wet cheek, scratching the same sentiment into your nape, just like you were rubbing it into his scalp, exchanging the affection without words.
Us and Them funneled through the car, mellowing the heightened emotions with its dreamy saxophone opener.
“I’m so glad to have met you,” you prized in tender sweeps of whispers and thumbs. “I actually look forward to coming into work because of you, even when you hide my pen cup, and tickle me when I go to reach for it on top of the Coke machine. Which is unfair, by the way.”
“Yeah?” he asked for dear reassurance, and distraction.
Humming against the intimate corner of his jaw, you nudged the prickly scruff, and melted into his uncoordinated pets over your ear. “I see your sacrifices, and trust me, Eddie, you’re doing a great job at raising your daughter. Stuff like buying her toys, or cookies, or whatever doesn’t matter. The love you show her is better than any of that. She’s so lucky to have you.”
Another tear dropped to the tattered quilt. Another, another dropped. He squeezed his eyes shut and more fell. Hindered breaths let go in stuttered huffs shook his chest, swayed his damp hair. You circled your thumb over the rivers on his sensitive skin, and found a dry section of your sleeve to clean the price he paid for being a good father without the proper support he needed. Soothing him with fond shushes and feather touches. Forming a ball of comfort around him: cramped in the tiny car, a cast of solid fog on the windows for privacy, Adrie’s blanket draped about your jumbled legs, and her lanky arms wrapped around his neck where precious words were stoked from the embers of a fire which he built. “I wanna color with you to-mah-rrow,” she pronounced. “You can have the dinosaur book, because I want the kitty cats. Deal?” Deal, he nodded.
Your bottom lip introduced a blessing at his sideburn, “You deserve to see yourself how we see you.”
Recovering from the unbearable throb his stuffed sinuses drove to his headache, he tried—��Thank you, baby,”—though the letters were mashed together, and further pulped by the thickness in his throat. Loud, however, was his hug. Crushing you both to him with honed strength; flexed forearms demonstrating the power lying dormant in the track of muscle he snaked around your waist. Groans were earned from his expertise. Bones protested the gesture, begging to be released. It took several seconds of your heartbeat pumping visibly at the edge of your vision, but he let go. Afterall, there was no praise to be had by flattened lungs.
“That hurt,” Adrie complained.
“Ow,” you agreed.
“Sorry,” he said in non-apology.
At a change in tone, you fawned, “But that was a nice hug.”
Adrie rated it, “An 8 out of 10.”
Crowded together, the bond was unmatched. His arms were spread like a greedy dragon hoarding its wealth. Chest open, collecting his most remarkable treasures to the roaring furnace locked within the confines of his body, ready to share the warmth to those who could appreciate its value. Clasped in your hand was Adrie’s ankle, gaining squirmy kicks for each smile and giggle traded under Eddie’s chin. Dressed in his well-loved hoodie, the crook of his elbow fit to your figure, and the backs of his fingers strummed your bicep in a trained motion. None of it was perfect, no. The hoodie could smell less like cigarettes, his forearm stuffed behind you meant you couldn’t recline comfortably, and when he patted your hip, he awakened the dull throb of the bruising grip he left during earlier events.
Those weren’t bad things, though. They were as real as human flaws. Accepted as such, too.
“Are you feeling better?”
Sporting a grin favoring one cheek more than the other, Eddie’s eyes were framed by clumped together lashes after being stripped to his barest self and given the grace he needed. “Yeah,” he answered Adrie in fondness, “I’m feeling better now.” Not forever. He wasn’t cured. But with time, he guided his gaze to the velcro shoe you were wiggling back and forth onto her heel, and climbed his soft study up to the plump concentration on your bottom lip after you released it from between your teeth.
Perceiving his attention, you clocked him with a sneaky grin. “We’re a sardine family.” Brightening at the bewildered noise he made, you tapped Adrie’s knee, and imparted your wisdom as if he should know it too. “Yeah, you know, you, me, and Adrie. Jammed packed back here like a tin of sardines. All squished together.”
They blinked at you. You blinked back.
“And I thought I was supposed to be the one with bad jokes,” Eddie offered after some thought. You cut him a look. “But I like the image,” he amended.
“I like sardines,” Adrie chimed. She didn’t know what sardines were, but you appreciated her enthusiasm.
The conversation waned from there. Drowsiness from the old night seeped into your collective huddle, slouching you all towards one another. Heavy limbs went boneless. Tender brushes of thumbs came to an end. The sound of deep breaths were heard between the local ads for Indiana’s finest antique mall and an uptick in the rain smacking the paved street. Near the edge of sleep, you convinced yourself to get Adrie up and into her carseat. Eddie sat back and watched you go through the steps of buckling her in, listening to her plea for Fluff in her backpack, tucking the quilt around her just right, and hitting your head on the roof in pursuit of making her happy. Taking care of his kid. You collapsed beside him, far closer than would be proper for coworkers, and basked in his approval, noting the pride in his charged gaze. The emotional rollercoaster of the evening took its toll on his swollen face—nevertheless, romance novels could learn a thing or two from the way his stare rendered you weak.
“Should get you home before the storm gets worse,” he warned in an attractive thrum of sternness. He might call you lil’ lady next. Or remind you he promised your father he’d have you back on time.
Floating in the fizzy pool of your crush's attention, you nodded your dizzy head, and observed without need, “Yeah, should get home before it gets worse.”
He laughed. You swam in his laugh, in the instinctual desire based in his mood after watching someone nurture his young. A silly thing to rock you into a sultry sweat considering the outcome of your second date. Luckily, when you stepped out of the car, the frigid mist stole your focus, hosing you down and keeping you from reading too much into the odd chemical imbalance that must be happening in your brain.
The night was really fucking long.
Driving with the radio on low, Eddie drifted his ringed fingers over your forearm whenever they weren’t being used on the stick shift. A small gesture letting you know he was thinking about you when there wasn’t anything to talk about, not that it was needed. The calm was nice. The storm behaved en route to the Buckley’s, avoiding the occasional tree limb blocking a lane. He removed his touch from your person, and with a glance, you were assured it wasn’t the last.
“You didn’t have to walk me to my door,” you gasped, posing with your arms stuck out, useless against mother nature sagging your soaked clothes.
A puddle formed on the wood planks where he wrung his hair. “And make you do this run all by yourself? C’mon, sweet stuff. I’m a gentleman.”
Shivering on the covered porch, your shoes were partially to blame for the slipping incident(s) in the muddy driveway. The lack of the house lights on was another, slowing down your sprint into a crawl. A yellow cast from a lamp in the back room lit the hallway, but other than its soft glow, that was it. Clearly, no one expected you to come home.
“Is it okay if, uh,” you began, “Is it okay if we kiss in front of Adrie?” Oh, how your awkward pointing from yourself to the car came to a charming halt, fingers caught in the stiff fabric of his jacket, under his spell.
Plush pink lips warmed by vented heat promised your worries away.
“I think she’s asleep anyway.” His voice was playful, tugging syllables in the way his lopsided grin ought. “But,” he softened, “yeah, we can kiss in front of her.”
The permission washed over you. Weeks and months in the making. Brewing tension under the surface in your daily interactions—and now? You kissed him. Just for fun, just to show off. You kissed him again. Gentle, pretty brushes. Tame, refined, and for the sake of exploring the lack of boundary before saying goodbye.
Working man arms defined your waist.
Fingers calloused from gripping pens grazed his steady throat.
He swallowed, and spoke endearments with his busy mouth, “Could kiss you all day, baby.” Your lips kicked into a smile which he devoured, kiss after kiss. Neat little things. Virtues, maybe.
“Could’ve kissed me since the day we met,” you answered, feeling the squeeze around your back when his belly pressed you into his embrace. Though, his dismissive snort caused you to frown. “I’m serious. Coulda had me back then. Or at least you could’ve kissed me when we were slow dancing in the garage, or standing under the mistletoe at the Christmas party. Like, seriously, way to make me feel rejected.”
His wide passionate eyes shared common ground with his genuine smirk at your feigned agony. “Excuse you, but I am not having our first kiss be at work.”
“Then why not at DND when everyone left?”
“Because, sweetheart,“ his cadence loved those two words most of all, “I knew I only had a few minutes with you. And I needed a helluva lot more than a few minutes with you.”
“Or, what about when—”
Crazy how you strove to be silenced by his mouth. Craved it like no other, provoking him into eager unions, fulfilling the itch and providing the scratch with your bottom lip between his, just how he liked.
You shifted. Your inner thighs rubbed through your ripped tights. The untimely circumstances bringing you to Robin’s door lived on the surface of your chilly skin; ushering you to reality, and he as well.
“I’m sorry for how all this turned out.” Eddie’s sincere apology pitched his voice to something sorrowful, something deeper, and maybe you underestimated how much the night ending when it did upset him as a man.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about.”
He shuffled his stance, scraping his boots in dissatisfaction. “Baby, you didn’t even get anything,” and you knew what he meant. And it annoyed you he’d even brought it up.
Combing your fingers up from his nape through his hair, you drove him into you, chasing the molten ooze pooling at your center in effort to shut him up. Wet, hard, nipping kisses at his plump lips until they were raw like his tear-stained cheeks. You forwent air. Mouths melding as one, then apart as two, then one, then a set of awake eyes boring into his drunk ones. “Our date was perfect. We needed this.” The trust, the experience, the uncomfortable glimpse into his life and how you handled it. His breakdown, his shame, his face when he finally let go and ugly cried in front of you. “I don’t regret how our night turned out.”
Nodding into a nudge of his nose stroking the side of yours, he was honest with himself, “I don’t regret it, either.”
“Well, you might regret it in the next half-hour if this storm keeps up, and you’re stranded with Adrie in the car because a tree fell across the road.”
“Shit.” Indeed, the weather was turning again. If luck were on his side, he could deal with the high winds and sheets of rain until he got home, but, more likely, he drained his luck over the course of the date, and lightning was about to start again.
Eyeing the sky with hesitance, he asked, “Can I call you tomorrow? Or—today?”
“I’d be upset if you didn’t.” Acting as an endorsement to get going before things worsened, thick forest branches creaked in the distance, popping like warnings. You followed it with snappier affections doled between your palms fitted to his jaw. “Please be safe, Eddie.”
“I will, I will. Kay?” Urgency swept him from kiss to kiss—needy, and intense, treating them as the last. “I adore you, baby. Tell me you adore me.”
Mushy under his tender affirmations, your body went pliant and he accepted your weighty lean on his chest, making it harder than it already was for him to leave his sweetheart behind. “—dore you too, handsome,” you moaned into his mouth, sending him off on a proper goodbye.
“Jesus Christ, woman.”
Ever the lovestruck fool, he stayed rooted on the porch watching your figure move from shadow to light within the home, eyes glued to sways and curves as you met the hallway and bent to peep inside Robin’s room. It was the single lamp being turned off which broke his greedy gaze, and ended his fun. Oh well. His Monday morning was booked with penciled in meetings for his admiration and your assets.
Eddie spun on his heel and stopped stalling. He didn’t bother throwing his arms over his head, he accepted his fate, and ran. Sloshing through puddles, slipping in mud. He wrenched open the door, and fell inside the car. The heater made him sticky warm in the gross way, so he turned it down, and got comfortable behind the wheel, adjusting, adjusting.
Pulling oxygen into his outkissed lungs, he heaved a solid breath, and sank into his seat, unable to comprehend the recent events carving out a new path for him to consider where there wasn’t one before.
——Then——
In the beginning…
Summer died to autumn, and it was time to move on from Steve's. Eddie tried to make it on his own in the motel room over the three day weekend break from work, but his wallet was empty, his baby was dressed in another family's blue sailboat onesie, and come Tuesday morning at 7AM, he needed someone to watch Adrie who wasn't an overworked Nancy Harrington.
Infant in hand, pride left behind in his boyhood, Eddie knocked on his uncle's door, and in Wayne's usual manner, he answered by clearing his throat when neither words nor greetings failed to repair the strained relationship.
“Can I live with you?”
Taking in the marks of fatigue under his nephew's averted eyes, Wayne said, “Of course, son,” and welcomed him inside with a swung gesture.
The walk to the single bedroom humbled what spirit Eddie had remaining. Or, crushed what was left of it. He passed by the kitchen table which still had his chair cocked out, noticed the patched-up hole in the closet door, and flicked on the lightswitch, grazing the curled edge of a poster he hung over a decade ago. His stomach sank at the familiarity.
Blazed by the ornate lamp hung in the corner, standing out like a behemoth beside his white desk, was the crib he was never able to afford.
Adrie grunted awake in her carseat. Looking down at her would spill his tears, so he cranked his head back to stare at the ceiling, steeling himself after spotting the new bedsheets stretched across his mattress, and he knew—he knew—if he turned around, the pullout bed in the living room would still be set up.
His uncle never took his room back.
Defeated by the routine pang of worthlessness, impressed to have any self-esteem left to be stolen from him at the point, Eddie sank to his childhood mattress with his three-month-old daughter at his feet, undressed himself from his boots, and made a clear spot for them both on the bed, away from blankets or pillows. He laid on his side, legs crossed and knees bent with an arm beneath his head. Same position he assumed on the motel’s carpeted floor yesterday when Adrie experienced a milestone: rolling over. Not from her back to her stomach, she wasn’t coordinated enough for that yet, but with enough powerful kicks and wiggling, his paranoia coaxed his other arm around her.
He molded himself to be her protector. Chest sunken on a shallow breath, forearm spooned to her side closest to the edge, and gaze trained on her chubby cheek. Her babbly noise of happiness brought him a sense of reward, and though the newborn smell had faded in the weeks where motor oil stung his nostrils, he put his nose to the top of her head for a whiff of a sweet scent that wasn’t there, and felt the peace it brought him anyway.
Wayne shuffled into the room with a sizable stack of chunky hardcover books between his hands. “I, uh, checked these out from the library. Been doin’ some readin’ while you were gone.” He set them down on the bedside table, and pointed at a few of them. “Learned a lot from the one on the bottom, but they were all, ah, educational, I s’pose.. Some lean more religious than others,” he grumbled. “But, uhm..”
The expectant pause in his uncle’s speech drew Eddie’s awareness.
“Can I hold her?” Wayne asked.
“Yeah.” He almost had the strength to clear the rasp from his throat. “You can hold her.”
Putting his new knowledge to good use, Wayne first worked his palm under Adrie’s head before scooping her into his folded arms. Eddie took his shame in small doses, glancing at his uncle meeting his grandchild for the first time, and looking away when he cooed over her. Three months and his only family member had yet to meet his baby. Three months spent avoiding this trailer, and depriving his uncle from making these memories.
Self-loathing boiled under Eddie’s skin, and still, there was a fleeting desire to brag about Adrie’s neck strength, and how it wasn’t so necessary to be wary of her head falling back.
But he stayed quiet. He pushed his overgrown bangs out of his eyes, and read the book’s titles, wondering what sparked enough interest for Wayne to stuff receipts between the pages, or mark them with paper clips if they were particularly interesting.
Speaking in his gruff smoker’s voice with an edge of seldom heard unease, Wayne introduced a conversation, “I read in that yellow book there that babies shouldn’t sleep in the same bed as the parent. Dangerous, with how tired you are, ‘nd all. Should I put her in the crib?”
As gingerly and delicately as one could be when discussing the reality of a child suffocating to a parent who was well aware of the risks, Eddie regarded him with an annoyed expression, and Wayne shut his mouth in apology.
“I’ve gotta do her night routine again, so I’ll be up for a bit.”
“Yep.” A solid statement, and conclusion, to the conversation.
Bending down, Wayne positioned Adrie in the hollow Eddie created for her, and mentioned there were leftovers in the fridge on his way out. He shut the door behind him. It didn’t take long for tiny fists and tinier fingers to find a lock of his hair, and pull it into a drooly mouth. Didn’t take long, either, for his exhaustion to kick in and for the emotions to crash through his walls.
Tears slipped sideways along his features. Cresting over the bridge of his nose, colliding with his other eye, and joining the wetness at his hairline, dotting the bedsheet. He pressed his face to his baby who was too innocent for this world. “Daddy loves you,” he whispered, tasting the word for the first time. Daddy. It didn’t feel right when Steve stepped in as a father figure, but he could acknowledge it now. He was a dad. A momentous occasion followed by, “I’m so sorry you’re mine.” An apology uttered on a wet hiccup—borderline unintelligible—but after coming back to this trailer, and enduring his memories trapped between its thin walls, he promised, words slurring to a constricted squeak in his throat, “Daddy’s gonna get us a nice house, okay? Your own room. Your own bed. Daddy’s gonna do it. Just give me some time, okay? I’ll do it, I swear. Daddy loves you so much. So fucking much.” The promises bred dread even then, living in the pit of his stomach as future disappointments, knowing he would fail.
Perhaps sensing his distress, his little girl used the last of her energy to kick his arm in a fair warning before her face scrunched, and the wet coughs preluding her wail for food began.
He dried his face on the bedsheet. In this moment, it was hard to continue crying when he had another human relying on him. It was time to move on. Time to bury the pain, and move on. Time to neglect himself, and move on. Time to give up, and move on. Kiss her chubby cheeks so fucking much he feared he’d never be able to stop, and move on.
——Now——
Now, he checked the rearview mirror and Adrie was looking back at him, possessing a curious pinch between her brows at his reflection.
“You were kissing Miss Mouse,” she accused and questioned.
“I was,” he confirmed.
“What does that mean?”
“It means, ah,” he filled the pause with another ah while he searched, “It means we’ll be seeing more of each other. She’ll be coming around more, and stuff. Hanging out with us.”
Ever ponderous, ever candid, ever blunt, she asked, “Does that mean she’s my–”
Crazy Little Thing Called Love blasted their eardrums.
Eddie’s fingers slipped over the volume dial by accident—totally by accident—as he reached for the stick shift, turning the music on high and drowning out the last word of her sentence.
—Mom.
No way in hell was he ready for that conversation after the emotionally grueling night he’d had.
“Whoops,” he pretended, “Sorry, couldn’t hear you—but, uh! Hey, do you wanna start our bedtime story early? Should I go with the princess one, or the Sesame Street gang running their own bakery? Hmm.." He drew out his hum until he was in the clear of the Buckley's mailbox, swearing he wasn't the reason it was laying flat in a ditch. "How about we pick up where the princess one left off? So! The firbolgs have declared alliances with Toadstool Kingdom, and.." Throwing it into first gear, Eddie raced home as quickly, but responsibly, as possible, talking non-stop. His parched throat begged for a drink by the time he pulled into the trailer park—a scratchy pain made worse by his nervous chatter in the elusive quiet of his parked car.
He wrapped Adrie in her quilt as best he could while securing her on his hip and booked it through the rain, unlocking the front door and ducking inside right as an unlucky flash of lightning came.
And when nature’s nightlight died, he blinked and blinked at the spots in his vision.
It was unfathomably dark in his living room.
Stumbling over a small shoe in his way, he patted the wall for the lightswitch, and flipped it. And flipped it again. And harassed it some more. Sighing heavily in defeat, he grabbed the giant flashlight on the kitchen counter, and lit the way. "Looks like we're camping tonight." (Their codeword for when the power was knocked out.)
"Okie dokie," she said, ignorant to the cruel world of no pancakes for Sunday breakfast when the electric stovetop was out of commission.
In the meantime, he got them both ready for bed with the added pain of doing it by a single wobbly light source, ready to pass out the second his body sank to the mattress and his head hit the flat pillow—
But of course, Adrie rocked his shoulder incessantly, goading him into giving her attention at her whim, sanity be damned. "Mm?" he grunted, coating the noise in mild annoyance.
"Daddy?" she checked.
The wait for her question grew excruciatingly long.
He almost wasted an eye roll. "Yes, my child?"
"I wish Miss Mouse was here."
Surprised more so by his yawn than the request itself—and then surprised again when his heartbeat remained calm when confronted with the reality of Adrie noticing too much—he struggled to stay awake in his best interest, perhaps giving an inappropriate answer, and unwittingly feeding into her inner wishes, "I do too." He was fading, and quick. The hard rain had returned, droning white noise on the roof, soothing his eyelids closed over the dry sting they drew. Rolling, fighting the stiff sheets tucked around them both, he threw an arm over her before the doom-roll of thunder came. Sweet dreams greeted him in a pair of tiny arms folded to his chest. Brain shutting down. Night, night. Asleep.
"I wish she was my mom."
"Goodnight, Adrie," he stressed.
3K notes · View notes
yxngbxkkie · 7 months
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comfort (s.c)
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i saw a tik tok where it looked like changbinnie was getting ignored, and it absolutely broke my heart 😭 so, to fix it, i wrote this cute fic 🩷
feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰
~
You hook a leg under your thigh as you continue to scroll through tik tok. You smile at the edits people have made of Changbin, your boyfriend of three years. You giggle at how adorable he is, double tapping the video to like it.
The door to your shared apartment opens, causing you to lift your head. Changbin walks through the door, dropping the bag in his hands. A frown instantly comes to your lips as he doesn't greet you.
He walks past you, going down the short hallway before heading into the bedroom. You lock your phone, setting it on the arm of the couch.
“Bin?” You gently call out his name, lifting yourself from the couch.
You peek into your bedroom, seeing Changbin sitting on the edge of your bed. He scrolls through his phone, aimlessly scrolling through Twitter.
“Baby?” You whisper the pet name, hoping he heard you.
He doesn't look in your direction, seeming pretty focused on the tweets. You release a quiet sigh, stepping towards him before sinking to your knees.
You rest your hands against his meaty thighs, gently rubbing the clothed muscle. “Did something happen?” You question him.
His dark eyes finally meet yours, and you can see the unshed tears in them. You whisper, “oh, honey,” before moving to wrap your arms around his shoulders.
“I don't get it,” he mumbles into your neck, feeling the tears streaming down his cheeks. You rub his back gently as Changbin circles his arm around your waist. “I do everything for them. Why don't they love me as much as I love them?”
“Stay loves you, Bin,” you reassure him while combing your fingers through his hair. “Just before you got home, I saw so many edits of you.”
Changbin lifts his head, his eyes turning red from him crying. You give him a soft smile, wiping the excess tears. “Did you really?” He asks in a tiny voice, moving his hands to your outer thighs.
You nod your head, leaning forward to kiss his forehead. “Absolutely, Binnie. I've seen a lot of Stays simp for you, baby,” you tell him truthfully, doing your best to make him feel better.
He doesn't say anything, dropping his gaze to his lap. “Tonight,” Changbin starts but instantly pauses, taking a deep breath. “We did the pre-recording for our comeback. As we were leaving, I waved and said goodbye, but as soon as Jeongin came, everyone was screaming. I just don't get why they don't scream for me. Am I that bad?”
“Baby, no,” you lift his head, making him look at you. “You're not bad at all. You're so loved by so many people, I promise you.”
Changbin sniffles and nods his head. “I love you,” he whispers, returning his gaze to you.
You give him a toothy grin, dipping your head down to capture his lips with yours. “Just remember that you're so loved. Not only by your members, but by true Stays,” you remind him after pulling away. “And me, of course.”
A smile comes to his lips, the first one you've seen tonight. You stroke his cheeks, pinching them softly. “I'm so grateful for you, baby,” he sighs, leaning forward to rest his head against your stomach.
“I love you so much, Seo Changbin,” you sigh into his hair, placing a couple of quick kisses to the top of his head. “My strong and talented baby.”
The two of you stay connected for almost ten minutes. One of your hands glides up and down his back while the other plays with his black hair.
“Did you eat?” Changbin asks, pulling back to look at you.
“I was waiting for you,” you tell him with a giggle. You shift in his arms, plopping yourself onto his lap. “I figured we could order something and cuddle on the couch.”
He wraps his arms around your waist, releasing a hum. “I like the sound of that. Can we order my favorite?” Changbin asks, squeezing your body against his.
“Of course, baby,” you giggle, slipping a hand underneath the back of his shirt. “We can get whatever you want!”
Changbin grows excited and lifts himself off of the bed, carrying you in his buff arms. “I got so lucky with you,” he almost squeals, pressing chaste kisses to your cheek while heading into the living room.
“You say that, but I think I'm the one lucky one,” you laugh, kissing his cheek.
~
tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @moon0fthenight @foxinnie8 @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n
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axeoverblade · 11 months
Note
THIS WITH MILES AND RIO OMG
https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZT8e2jNJ6/
Can she come over?
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Miles(s) Morales x fem! Reader
Synopsis! After seeing a Tiktok on your for you page, you persuaded your boyfriend to do it with you.
MASTERLIST
Genre: Fluff, pre established relationship, slight age up so it makes sense that they’re in a car
Warnings: none!
Word count: .8k
Authors comment: This was so cute and fun to write, hopefully this was what you were asking. Didn’t know which Miles you wanted so suprise it’s both! Small blurbs. Enjoy <3
Do not copy! All rights reserved to ©axeoverblade
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EARTH 1610!MILES
“Baby no I’m not doing that!” Miles whined. “Cmon!! It’s just a little jokey-joke!” You lightly pushed his shoulder, trying to persuade him for the umpteenth time. He looked at you and sighed, finally caving in, “you're so lucky I love you”. Giggling, you urged him to call his mom quicker, setting up your camera on the dashboard of the car to record.
“I’m blaming this on you” he said, phone ringing as he looked at you. “I’m willing to accept the consequences” you smiled.
“Yes hijo?” His mother said, you smiled wider, covering your mouth with your hand. “Hola mami” “Do u need something? Oh! Can you tell y/n she left her pajamas so I washed em’ for her.” “oh uh,” he looked at you, “I’m not with her, when I see her I’ll say something. What are you doing right now?” “Mmm nothing worth talking about, por que? Is something wrong?” She asked, becoming more concerned towards the end of her sentence. “Nah nothin’s wrong” Miles paused, “can I bring a girl over?” He winced, trying to stop his voice from cracking. “Que? I thought you said you weren’t with y/n? You don’t have to ask to bring her over anymore-” “uh actually it’s not her”
The phone went silent, “….eh?”, you stifled a laugh, looking at miles who was holding in a laugh himself. “It’s not her mami, ‘s another girl.” “So, what I’m hearing is,” she paused, taking a moment to process, “you want some random girl over that’s not y/n? Why?” “Oh well you know, I’m hanging out with her right now and she wants to come over” “does y/n know about this?” “Uhm nah, this girl is kinda..” Miles trailed off, insinuating he was hiding her from you. “Miles te lo juro que te asesinaré con mis propias manos.” you couldn’t hold it in anymore, throwing your head back as you cackled. Miles' eyes widened at your break of character as he laughed too, quickly muting himself, “You think this is funny Miles? Was that her laughing?” Rio yelled quickly, had you not been used to her voice you wouldn’t have understood what she said with how fast the words left her mouth. Miles unmuted himself, knowing if he didn’t stop the prank now he would get in serious trouble. “Cálmate mami, we’re kidding it’s a joke!”
“Hi Mrs.Morales!” You choked out through a laugh. “Ay-Y/n is that you?” “Yes ma’am” you giggled. Rio mumbled something under her breath, “you two play too much. I’ll see you both for dinner, don't be late.” With that she hung up. You looked at Miles who was shaking his head at you, “mi princesa, you’re gonna get me killed.” You giggled and gave him a kiss on the cheek, grabbing your phone off the dashboard and stopping the recording, “maybe thats my goal.”.
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EARTH 42!MILES
“Baby Im not doing it, do you know how pissed she’s gonna be?” He looked at you skeptically. You set up your camera on the dashboard, pressing record. “Cmon querido it’s for memories” he sighed looking at your pleading expression. He rolled his eyes, “you owe me” you smiled wide, happy he finally agreed after a hefty amount of convincing. He dialed his mother, staring at you while it rang.
“Yes Hijo?” Ríos voice spoke through the phone speaker. “Hola mama, whatchu’ doin’?” “Uhm I’m on a five minutó break at the hospital, por que?” “Uhh nothin much, so I’m wit’ a girl n’ she wants to come over to the house, I was just letting you know-” “eh? Where's y/n? Is she already there or something?” You smiled. “Uh nah, just me n’ the girl.” “…Dónde está y/n?” “Uh” he looked at you for a split second, “I don’t know.” “Does she know this girl is coming over?” “Nah and I’m keeping it that way” Miles said, hinting something was going on with this mystery girl. “Miles, tu traes esa nena a casa y te lo juro.", you covered your mouth holding in a laugh, looking at Miles. He shook his head, “well I mean she’s kinda already with me,” “Is her name y/n” “que? no i just said it’s not y/n-” “then she can’t come over. I see you with another girl near our property and it’s not ending well for either of you, comprende?” You couldn’t hold it in any longer, letting out the laugh you had been keeping.
“Ella se acaba de reír de? Miles Morales-" “Mama we kid’, y/n is wit’ me. it’s a joke” he quickly cut her off before she could begin her rant. “Sorry Mrs.Morales” you said through a fit of giggles. “Cariño don’t do that, you had me worried.” She spoke to you through the phone.“Sorry mama” you replied using the nickname developed for Rio throughout your relationship with Miles. She clicked her teeth, “I’m gonna tell your ma on you little girl, eres malo.”. You let out a small laugh and apologized, saying your goodbyes so she could get back to work. You grabbed your phone off the dashboard stopping the recording, giving Miles a quick kiss on the cheek. “So about what you owe me” he said looking at you suggestively. You laughed, “you’re gross”
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©axeoverblade
2K notes · View notes
frxxxncx · 9 months
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happy birthday - c. seungcheol
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»idol!¡Choi Seungcheol x fem!¡reader.
»Summary: It´s midnight and you´re alone in your apartment for your birthday.
»Tags: smut (MDNI), oral (f. receiving), cunnilingus, pet names, establish relationship, idolau, fingering, countertop oral(?, body worship, dom!seungcheol, sub!reader, reader is mention to have her ears pierced, seungcheol is strong af.
»Words: 1.4k (idk)
note: i feel like as much as Cheol likes people to congratulate him on his birthday, he would try his best to do the same for his partner, idk, it was my birthday like three days ago and i just miss him so much ;c
note 2: Any typo or incoherence that you might find was completely intentional, it’s for the sake of learning about my mistakes.
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Your hair tickled on the back of your neck, the soft air of the night making it dance on your skin.
In this particularly cold night, you looked at the moon with a solemn expression in your face, you were sitting in the balcony... alone, with the big and shining sphere who has always been the witness of your bittersweet nights filled in loneliness, but also bystander of those you spent with company.
The memories of his warm body beside you, tugging you into a warm hug seem very distant, like they have been only a long and wonderful dream.
You closed your eyes trying to imagine your boyfriend being there, his hoarse voice congratulating you for your birthday as soon as the clock hits midnight like he always used to do.
Filling your face with kisses and caressing your body with softness, but he wasn't there.
It's been four months since the last time you saw him, his schedule always filled to the brim, presentations, concerts, interviews, flights, pre-recording, you didn't know what to do, you talk all the time, texts, calls, FaceTime, but it's not enough, it's just to little of him for you.
You hugged yourself and the clock rang announcing midnight.
"Happy birthday to me" you said while an uncontrollable tear slipped through your reddened cheek.
You got up, and palmed the dirt of your shirt to get inside the apartment. Dragging your feet, you threw yourself in your bed, crashing into the mattress, hurting your back with the tv controller that was laying there before.
You took the controller from behind your back, to settle in the bed hugging your pillow tightly, arching your back making your shirt -your boyfriend's shirt- lift.
"Fuck, what a nice view" the velvety yet masculine voice of your boyfriend rang in your ears, and startled you sat in your bed.
There he was, standing in the door frame, with a big box of chocolates, a bottle of wine and a cute bouquet of your favourite flowers. His pearly smile lighted the gloominess in the room, making your heart flutter.
"Happy birthday, baby" he said sweetly but with an apologetic smile, maybe thinking you were upset by his tardiness.
You wanted to cry big time, you were certain that he was extremely tired from his rehearsals, but yet you were so happy that he took the time to come.
Euphoric you got out of bed, running to him and jumping on his arms, pinning your legs on his hips and locking your arms in his neck. Seungcheol, was in a tough position, his arms were full with the gifts and now you were clinging onto him like a tick, he has to admit it, his core balance is pretty sick.
Your face rested in the crock of his neck and the woody smell stroke your nostrils, and with that you were sure that him being there was not a dream.
You raised your face, his eyes were like two shining stars and his sweet smile almost made you melt in his arms. With his hands still very occupied, he managed to hug you back and give a loud kiss on your temple.
"I missed you so much" he whispered in your ear, his soft lips caressing your earlobe sending shivers down your spine.
A chill ran down your body making you tighten your grip on his neck.
"I missed you too, Cheolie"
Seungcheol, who was somehow still lifting you, got out of the room and went straight to the kitchen, putting everything in place, the chocolates in the table, the flowers in the pot and the wine, well, the wine in the wine fridge. When his hands were free he decided to sit you in the aisle in the middle of the kitchen.
Your legs and arms untangled from his figure, but he didn't move an inch, with your legs on each side of his hips, he started to leave kisses in the soft skin of your neck, sweet kisses in the freckles of your shoulders, but biting and sucking your collarbone.
His black shirt which you were using was starting to get in the way and quickly he got rid of it. He admired your bare chest, your beautiful and delicate skin, your breasts that fit in his hands just perfectly.
He kept kissing your skin while his hands were now fondling your breast enjoying the soft moans that escaped your mouth. A loud whimper dance away from your mouth, when his lips started to give pecks at your breasts.
He missed you so much, he just wanted you to touch you, draw your whole body with his fingers, engrave every curve of your body in his memory.
The tips of his fingers were now caressing your thighs doing imaginary figures, stroking with care. His kisses got to the base of your stomach, your fingers were starting to curl thrilled.
"God, you're so perfect" he whispered against your belly, making you shiver.
Your hands squeezed tightly the edge of the isle, knuckles whitening at the action and almost losing feeling in your fingers. You laid, your body suddenly feeling heavy, a whine slipped from your lips as Seungcheol’s fingers ran over your clotted cunt, just a little caress over your clothes making you shiver, not even directly and still it felt so good.
He tugged with his thumbs in the elastic of your underwear, stroking faintly with his fingers the journey to your ankles, making your skin burn exquisitely.
Now with your underwear long forgotten in some dark corner of the kitchen, Seungcheol's fingers travelled through the inside of your thighs once again.
As his digits got closer and closer to your core, he stopped, gripping the soft flesh of your legs tightly, making you moan.
Seungcheol put his rough palms in your knees, and testing your flexibility he pushed as much as he could without hurting you, his eyes travelled from your eyes to your cunt, licking his lips at the stirring view, your core sopping in your arousal.
His breath was hot against your wet and puffy lips, how was it even possible for you to feel this worked up when you haven't even started yet?, you were eager to know what was about to come next.
Like two petals the kisses were soft and silky, lips dancing skilfully on your cunt, making you chant his name in an obscene mantra, he drank till the last drop of your arousal, like it was one of his favourite wines.  
His tongue strokes over your sex, drawing fat strips with the hot muscle, enjoying your exquisite flavour like a starving man, but also pleased for being able to make you moan just like a porn star.
You could feel his hot tongue inside of you, his nose bumping with your clit, making your toes curl, you are not sure if it is because you love him so much, but Seungcheol is just so fucking good at giving you head, he knew where to touch, where to suck, he knows your body like the palm of his hand and that makes you even wetter.
And when he pressed his big hand onto your belly you felt how the coil that has been building up started to erupt, like firework exploiting inside of you, and when your orgasm washed you over, he drank it all, leaving you a trembling mess, receiving more pleasure from hearing you become such a mess just from giving you head, ignoring completely the hard on pressing painfully against his jeans.
His blonde hair felt soft against your thighs, when he lifted his face to looked at you, you could help but let a pathetic cry slip your mouth, his lips were bright red and glossy, chin covered in your arousal, he was panting, expression denoting adoration, making your heart melt in the spot.
His eyes looked at you lovingly, his tongue licking what it could from your excitement from his lips, his face got close to yours, lips kissing your earlobe feeling the cold metal of your piercing in his lips.
"I love you"
Your chest tightened, happiness overflowing your body, you stole a soft and innocent kiss from Seungcheol, making him laugh.
"I love you too"
"Happy birthday"
"Well now I'll go get your present" he got up and started to walk towards the door but you were confused.
"Wait" you said and he stopped in the door frame to look at you with a smile, head tilted to the side "My presents weren't the chocolates, the wine and the flowers?" the disorientation in your voice was obvious.
"No, that was just a small gift" he furrowed his eyebrows still smiling, yet his expression was showered in disbelief "Do you think I'm broke or something?"
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l1tw1ck · 2 months
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Fucking the Cowboy
(First Time) Sub!Bottom Joel x Dom!Top!FTM Reader
☆ Word Count: 1,523 ☆
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[No AFAB Language Ver] | Words Used for Reader: Cunt, Dick, T-Dick, Cock, Wetness, Insides, Walls
CW: Drunk Sex, Nipple Sucking, Handjob, Cum Eating, Cunnilingus, Ass Eating, Strap-in-A, Daddy Kink, Overstimulation
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“Good work today, Miller. How ‘bout some dinner and drinks to celebrate? It’s on me.” You place your hand on Joel’s shoulder. The two of you finished a project in record time, Joel agrees this is cause for celebration.
“Sure.” Joel nods. He had no idea what was in store for the both of you by agreeing to your suggestion.
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Joel isn't sure how he ended up on your couch, sitting on your lap shirtless and listening to your compliments like he's never been complimented before but he's too drunk to question it. He isn't that drunk, but he’ll blame it on the beer anyway.
“Your tits are so soft, baby.” You fondle his chest lovingly. “I could do this forever.” You suck on his nipple, not minding the hair in your mouth. Joel moans and starts to grind down on you, extremely hard.
He moans your name. “Please– please touch my cock too-” He begs for the first time ever. Your overwhelmingly dominant yet gentle energy managed to tame Joel with ease.
You pull away and rub his boner through his pants, enjoying his reaction. “You’re a greedy little thing, aren't you?” You unzip his jeans. Joel flushes in embarrassment. He's never been called little before. But in comparison to you, he's not surprised you consider him as such. He whimpers as he feels your hand gently grab his hot shaft, pre cum dribbling down onto your fingers. You use it to aid your hand in gliding up and down it. Joel’s moans increase as you go back to sucking on his nipple.
“Th- thank you– fuck—” He gasps. He moans your name again, more whiny than before. He's become such a slut for you. “Oh God–” He bites his lip as he comes. You pull away from his chest and lick up all the cum you can.
Joel shudders as he watches you lick up the cum on your fingers. “You wanna do somethin’ f’me in return?”
He nods.
“Get on your knees.” You order. Joel quickly gets down. He watches, drool about to spill from his mouth, as you unbuckle your belt and unzip your pants. He really starts to drool when you pull your pants down and he sees the wetness from your arousal darken parts of your underwear, as well as the soft outline of your t-dick. You pull your boxers down next. He locks eyes with you before licking your cunt like a dehydrated puppy. “Tastes good?” You chuckle
He shivers in response. “So good.” He answers. He pulls away just by a few inches and leans his head a bit closer to your thigh, his mouth attaching to your cock and two of his digits slowly making their way inside you one by one.
“Now you got it..” You pet him. “Just like that, Joel.”
If mere words were enough to make him come, he would've had an orgasm after hearing that. He looks into your eyes and finds himself moaning subconsciously from your gaze. He closes his eyes, knowing he’ll surely discover that he can come untouched by keeping eye contact. Joel finds your g-spot, your sudden gasp and shake confirming it for him.
“Right there, babe–” You moan. He smiles as he feels your insides beginning to squeeze his fingers. He licks and sucks your cock happily, enjoying your sounds of pleasure.
Thanks to Joel's skills, it didn't take much more time to make you come. Your back is arched and your walls are desperately hugging his fingers. You take a moment to catch your breath. “You’re good at that.” You smile, petting him again. He looks up at you with the sexiest expression and that immediately makes you do a 180. Your smile loses its softness and becomes sharp and full of lust. “I wanna fuck you.” Your voice is low and full of arousal. His cock twitches in response.
“Please.” He whimpers.
You smirk and pick him up with ease. You bring him into your room and have him lay stomach first on your bed with his ass raised in the air. You pull his pants down all the way and get onto the bed. You gently rub his plump ass before spreading his cheeks apart. You circle your tongue around his virginal rim, enjoying Joel’s shivers and whines. You gently tongue his rim before sliding it inside, he whimpers as his eyes roll to the back of his head. He moans at the amazing feeling of you exploring his insides, shocked by what he's been missing out on.
You grab his cock, roughly jerking him off. Joel cries out in pleasure. “Yes– [Name]~” He groans. “So…so fuck…fuckin’ good~”
You pull away from his ass and let go of his dick, much to his dismay. “I think you're ready for me, darling.” You stand up. You strip down to nothing and strap yourself up, leaving you to just pick the right dildo. You pick up your box of toys and show it to Joel. “Which one?”
Joel stares at the biggest one in the box, drool dripping down his chin.
“This one?” You point to it. Joel makes a sound of agreement. “Hm…A little big for your first time but I think you can handle it.” You take it out and put the box aside. You pop it on your strap and grab your bottle of lube. You get back onto the bed and turn him onto his back. You pour some of the liquid onto your digits and briefly finger him, making sure it’ll be a smooth entrance, before pressing your tip against his hole. “Ready?” You ask.
He's more than ready. “Yes!” Joel bites down on his lip as he feels you enter him, your thick cock steadily stretching him out. “Deeper~” He groans. You grip his waist and go further in, your dick brushing against his prostate. Joel moans in pleasure, his legs shaking in response.
You gently circle your thumb around his stomach. “You okay?”
“Mmhmm…Feels really fuckin’ good.” He grins drunkenly, moving his hips.
“Yeah? You like being full from my cock?” You do the thrusting for him.
“Yes~” He drags the word out.
You smirk, fucking him at a slow and steady pace. “You're taking me so well, darlin’” You lean into his ear and jerk him off at a snail’s pace. “Doin’ so good f’daddy.” You bite the outer part of his ear.
Joel moans, suddenly having an orgasm. “Don– don’t stop-”
“Look at you, coming from almost nothing.” You chuckle, pulling back to look at him. “You look real pretty like this.”
Joel outstretches his arms to you and you lean in, kissing him with his arms wrapped around you. The two of you passionately make out, your hips rocking at the perfect pace. Joel had no idea bottoming could feel so good, he might get addicted to this.
You pull away and look at him with a smile.
“Faster, please–” He says, slightly out of breath.
You pick up the pace like he asked, loud moans and various profanities spilling out of Joel’s mouth. He digs his blunt nails into your back, scratching it. You don't mind though, the sight in front of you makes up for the mild pain. He can't say anything comprehensible, he’s too overwhelmed by his previous orgasm and your constant thrusts, but you can tell by the look on his face that he loves this.
“Daddy~” He gasps. “Touch- touch me.”
You briefly slow down, tracing your finger up his cock teasingly. “Here, babe?” You gently wrap your fist around it. He nods. You rub his slit with your thumb. “You sure? ‘S gonna overstimulate you.”
He nods again. “I’m sure.” He has a look in his eyes that tells you he's completely succumbed to his pleasure, he's hungry and greedy for more. And who are you to deprive him of what he wants?
You begin to jerk him off and resume your previous speed, an instant surge of pleasure running through Joel. He arches his back and leans his head against the pillow, his eyelids fluttering as he moans like a slut. “Love hearing you moan, y’sound so fuckin’ slutty.” You grin.
Joel’s never heard such sounds coming out of his own mouth before but you're right, he sounds like a slut and he loves it. He loves feeling like a whore, your whore. Sure this is the first time the two of you have done anything romantic but he can't help but feel attached to someone who makes him feel so good. “Only for you.” He grins stupidly. He starts to feel his orgasm approaching and grips you harder.
“Only for me, huh? I like the sound of that.”
Joel lets out a breathy moan and comes. You don't want to overwhelm him any further so despite his pleas, you stop. “Why don't we get cleaned up now?” You suggest. Joel nods and gets up from the bed with your help. You’ve always wanted him but you wonder how Joel will feel in the morning. You decide not to think about it.
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starsforselene · 4 months
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Pairing: Kim Mingyu x Afab reader
Rating: explicit MDNI
Contains: masturbation (m), mentions of recorded sex acts, mentions of vaginal penetration
Word count: 1.2k
Summary: Mingyu misses you during a sleepless night while he’s away. Thankfully, he has a special folder full of memories you two have been working on.
Note: This is a little different than things I’ve written before. Would love to know if it’s a hit or miss? Haha.
—/
Mingyu tossed and turned, trying to find comfort in yet another hotel bed. While there’s nothing wrong with this undoubtedly expensive mattress and the high thread count sheets, it wasn’t home. He knows the traveling is part of what he signed up for, but tonight the bed is too big; it’s too empty.
He reaches for his phone and squints at the brightness until he can adjust, thinking maybe he can send you a text or maybe even call, anything to feel connected to you. Of course, it’s 3:45 AM and you’re asleep by now, and no matter how lonely he feels it’s not lonely enough to wake you up.
Scrolling through social media does nothing to ease the heavy feeling that’s settled in his chest, the ache of missing someone. He pulls up the photos app and scrolls through the album you made for him; photos he’s taken either of you or of the two of you that bring back memories. So you can have it handy when you miss me, you said when he’d asked about it.
It helps tonight, the images of times spent together from those shy first dates to the familiarity of having someone he can know is his, someone he counts on and loves that he can confidently know loves him for who he is. Your smiling face looking back at him from your spot on a beach towel after a day trip to the coast, your back shining in the sun, your hair whipping wildly around you from the ocean breeze…the way your waist curves perfectly and the swimsuit bottoms that barely covered your ass.
Something stirs inside him, a pull deep in his belly that he’s well acquainted with. Flashes of you running through the waves that day, the way you laughed and splashed at him, your body dripping wet from the saltwater. How he laid you down on a beach towel as the sun set and worshiped every inch of you; how you squirmed as he tasted the salt on your skin, your sweet moans and whimpers as he buried himself inside you—fuck. He groans as his now hard cock strains against his boxers.
Mingyu backs out of the photo and makes his way towards another album, one that’s locked behind a password only the two of you know. There’s this small thrill that tickles his stomach as he puts in the passcode and the album opens up, the previews from the various photos and videos enough to make his cock twitch and arousal buzz through his limbs.
He caresses his fingers down his chest, breath faltering as he pictures your hands there instead. His fingers hover on the waistband of his underwear as he scrolls for the one video that never fails to make his blood rush. He finally finds it, the preview image alone has him palming his throbbing cock over the thin material of his underwear even though that’s not going to cut it and he knows this.
The video starts playing, your voice playing over the phone speakers, transporting him back to that night, how you were just as giddy as him when he had decided to pull his phone out and record you both—for the memories—you had said.
Mingyu groans to himself as the camera finally settles on a shot of you on top of him, hand on his cock as you run the head between your glistening folds. There’s a moment where you giggle and ask him if the flash needs to be on and he smirks through the haze of his arousal at your playfulness. The mood quickly shifts as you finally align him with your entrance and slowly sink yourself on his cock, a combined gasp from you both making him throb and leak pre cum.
Unable to tease himself any longer, he pulls down his underwear just enough to be able to stroke himself fully, his eyes rolling back momentarily as he finally gives in to his need. He runs the slick that’s gathered at the tip down his shaft, a low moan rising from his throat at how fucking good it feels as he watches you swivel your hips onto his cock on screen, your sweet moans filling the otherwise quiet hotel room.
“Fuck, Gyu, your cock feels so good baby. So full—shit.”
Your words make him pump himself faster, desperately wishing he was feeling your tight walls clenching around him instead; the memory of your tight heat spurring him on. He watches you ride him, the way you eagerly take all of him with every rise and fall of your hips, the lewd smacking sounds making his belly tighten.
“That’s it, gorgeous, fuck yourself on my cock. Just like that.” He listens to the way you whine and groan to his praise, his balls tightening as he watches your hand appear on screen to rub tight circles on your clit.
His breathing is uneven from trying to hold back just long enough to get to his favorite part, thigh muscles straining as his hips lift into his hand to match the pace you're keeping in the video. You’re moaning louder now and he knows from memory that you’re about to come, his own release fast approaching as he watches your hips falter and his own pick up the slack to get you there. The way you’re chanting his name, begging him to keep fucking you like that makes the room spin. He stops holding back; fisting himself harder, twisting at the head just the right way, his limbs burning with need.
Mingyu watches you come on his cock with a breathless cry, his name on your lips, the way you quiver on top of him with each pulse of your orgasm—that’s what does it. He whimpers, your name moaned out into the empty room as he works himself through his release, spilling come on his stomach with every pump of his hand. With every throb of his cock he wishes more than anything it was you he was coming inside of, you praising him for doing so well, you kissing his face as he comes down from the heaven you bring him to.
It’s not, but it’ll have to do, he thinks with a sigh as he finally settles. The heaviness feels delightful; he’s no longer a ball of anxiety and the loneliness has dulled in his chest. Sleep tries to claim him as he fumbles for a tissue to clean himself off, suddenly more tired than he’s ever been.
He takes care of the mess as best he can, ready to pass out until he’s needed again when he hears his phone buzz on the nightstand. His brows knit together as he reaches for it, his heart flopping in his chest when he sees it’s you.
“Baby, are you okay? It’s so late.”
“Yeah I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you, I’m okay I just…I missed you. I had a dream about you and now I can’t sleep,” you say quietly.
He knows that tone, though, and he smirks as he lays back against the pillows again.
“Tell me all about it, gorgeous.”
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lonelystarrs · 1 year
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𝐔𝐡, 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭…?
FemReader x Nagi Seishiro
Seishiro just really, really missed you. ♡
Warnings: 18+ MDNI • smut • 🌶️ • fluff • both mid twenties & live together • established relationship • it happens, just love them when they do •
Reposting for better luck this time. My visibility settings were somehow altered on here! grrr.
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He was sweaty, hot and bothered a combination of things that Nagi usually disliked, but there was a way he found it tolerable — it was still a pain and what made it acceptable was you. Specifically your hands skimming under his hoodie to help him rid of it, his lips leaving yours for a mere moment as you pulled it over his head before meeting again with the perfect amount of messy, tongues meeting in a wet kiss that left spit covering your lips.
He had only just made it through the door, duffle bag lazily thrown by the entrance and kicking his shoes off. Walking through until he found you in the kitchen, shocked to see him a day earlier than he said he’d be back. His t-shirt looking huge on you, long, toned legs disappearing under it to the treasure he knew.
He did briefly think those fluffy bed socks stopping half way up your calves were cute though, little panda faces on your feet. They were soon wrapped around his waist as you ran at him, jumping into his arms.
That was all a few strides ago, by now you were back on your feet getting walked backwards, stripping the genius on your way to the bedroom.
“I -ah- I missed you pretty.”
You nodded as he tried to talk against your mouth, you failing to answer because you were desperate to get his jeans off, pulling at his belt and buttons.
Nagi let his trousers fall and he stepped out of them as he pushed you towards the bed. It was a blur how he ended up under you with his only his bloody socks left on, cock rock hard against his stomach, pre leaking from the slit and covering his thick head, drooling into the lines of his six pack.
He was so wet for you and his cock was flexing by its on against his abdomen just watching you pull his top over your head. Slatey, brown eyes watching your bare tits bounce, finally confirming you were just walking around without him here in nothing but pretty panties under his t-shirt.
“Ah - s’not fair, you walk around like this when m’not here?”
Seishiro had been away for three weeks, having nothing but your voice over the phone for calls, those steamy videos that made him switch off his games to put his headphones in and fuck his fists to you, yeah fists, his dick was plenty long enough to get both hands around.
He could easily get off to just the sounds you made, closing his eyes and letting that honey voice call and beg for him.
It was a bother how much he thought about you, but he couldn’t help it. You were so pretty, so sweet to him and so fucking insatiable. Nagi never thought about sex much until he met you —it sounded like hassle. Hot, sweaty and using energy he’d rather not use. Most the times he’d just ignore his hard ons because the sticky mess was bothersome.
Not now though, not when he knew how warm and wet your pussy was, swallowing his long dick and cock warming him, letting him cum in you to save him the hassle of cleaning it up.
Instead he got to watch it leak from that swollen pussy hole or dribble down your thighs in a hot breathy mess, or even cum down your throat and you’d open wide to let him see traces of it coating your tongue.
n’suddenly sex wasn’t such a bother to think about or do.
It’s all he thought about the last few days, when you’d sent him a video of just that, his cum leaving you. Sneakily you’d recorded it from one of your previous sessions with him. Your poor hole swollen from one of his feral moods, he’d cum twice in you and it was drooling out, pussy clenching around nothing after his dick had been bullying into it. Then your finger came down, collecting it to roll over your clit coaxing yourself to cum again and push the rest out.
He remembered that morning well enough, because he left a nasty bite on your inner thigh that he could see in the video, but you’d recorded that special treat whilst he’d gone to shower alone.
Because he was late for practice… again.
Such a sly, pretty thing and you were all his.
He’d spent so long in the bathroom whilst away fucking into his fist to that video, so long that Reo ended up knocking to see if he was ok.
He’d to see cum multiple times over it, his cock almost sore, fingers sticky with thick cum and using it to cum again and again. His heart racing, breathing laboured because he was putting himself through hell because he couldn’t stop fisting his cock over it.
His little dazed state was shook from him as your hand wrapped around his dick just under the head to align it with your hole, Nagi could feel you drooling slick down it already and he moaned when you rotated your hips around him. He was so sensitive already, cock flexing in your hand and against your cunt. His hands flew to your thighs and gripped, eyes widening because he felt like he was about to bust.
“W-Wait pretty hang on, I-“
Too late.
The moment you sank down onto his cock, burying it to the hilt, taking him too well without prep because you were so far gone and oh god how he heard you moan was enough…
Nagi’s head rolled back his eyes following into his sockets as they closed, his mouth hanging ajar as drool left the corner of his lips, his toes curling against the mattress as he bent his legs up, hips lifting off the bed causing you to fall forward onto him.
“Ngh- shit! M’cu-hah.”
You dunno what the hell he just tried saying but your jaw fell slack watching Nagi’s cum face that you knew too well. Pink dusting over his cheeks, his cock flexing in you as he came hard, his body stuttered under you, little convulses through his stomach and you tightened around him, warm walls hugging and swallowing his dick, cum filling you as he unloaded his balls.
“S-Sei? Did you just…”
“Ah-“ the heavy exhale left him, little pants in his breathing pattern as his hips fell back to the bed. Heat crawled up his neck and settled on his cheeks as you watched them burning.
Never in your life did you think you’d see the day Nagi Seishiro blush like that.
“-I came,”
He pouted, eyes looking down to where you were joined and he could see his cum already leaking past his dick buried in you as a plug.
“What a hassle. S’no fair, pretty, that video I-“
“Holy shit, Sei -fuck that was so hot.”
“You- huh?”
You leaned forward, body pressing flush against his, arms cradling his head and burying fingers into his white hair that was always so ridiculously soft, all whilst cock warming him. Your lips grazed his before pressing loving kisses on his face, settling on an Eskimo kiss as he looked up at you with one eye squinting closed, the other half open from your kiss assault.
God he was adorable.
“I missed you too, Sei~”
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© pharix 2023 permission is not given to repost, translate or post anywhere else.
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fairytsuk1 · 5 months
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mile high club | (smut)
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pairing: alex quackity x reader
words: 1.9k
warnings: sexual content, surprise visit, riding, quickie, couch sex, mild femdom, mild sub!alex, unprotected sex, pre-established relationship
summary: "Sooo, What about Quackity dating someone who lives in a different country, and since both of them have been really busy they haven't seen each other in person in a couple months, so he decides to give his s/o a surprise visit?"
It was as normal of a day as ever. You’d woken up early and greeted Alex, who happily called you while you brushed your teeth and washed your face.
“Good morning, sleepyhead,” and you can hear the smile in his voice.
“Good morning,” you yawn, rubbing your eyes, “what have you been up to?”
“Oh, you know,” he avoids the question, “just getting on with the day. You have your little morning voice right now, so cute, you know.”
Your laugh rings prettily into the phone as Alex blatantly flirts with you. He still made you feel like a teenager, all giddy with excitement and want. Plus, you miss him. It feels like eons ago that he would pull you closer to his chest mornings like these, firm arms snug around your waist as he curled around you like a mama bear. Your heart ached at the thought, even just sharing breakfast or coffee felt special.
“Well, whatever! I just woke up and gotta start my morning routine. But seriously, what are you up to? It sounds kinda noisy?”
The mild hustle and bustle cuts through the phone's static. It’s too muffled to hear anything, and you’re too sleep-addled to decipher it, “it’s nothing, baby. I’m just at the store. It’s crowded today, but I need some groceries.”
“Oh, right, Target?”
Alex pauses, “Yeeeah. I gotta go, honey, but I’ll talk to you later!”
Something feels off, but you swallow your worries.
“Yeah, we’ll talk later! I love you.”
“Te quiero mucho.”
There’s a quick click and then silence. Usually, Alex was more carefree with his thoughts. He had no problem freely expressing himself to you; he even told you that you were someone who made him feel like he could. But maybe you’re just being an overly attached girlfriend! You’re just thinking too hard about this. It’s probably fine, right?
You brush your teeth hastily with vigor, and you make record-breaking time on your skincare routine. The faster you get your day started, the bigger head start you have against those anxious thoughts.
It was an extreme relief when you received sporadic texts from Alex.
[lex <3]: what’s up babe??
[lex <3]: I’m thinking of youu
[lex <3]: te quiero verte pronto <3
It made your heart race and make you want to look bashful and hide underneath your lashes because he was so charming. You eagerly reply to him with a plentiful amount of hearts and kisses. Just knowing he was thinking of you made you feel good. It uplifted your day as you flicked on mascara and tied up your New Balances. 
Things were average that day. The loud ringing doorbell broke you out of your TV rewatching reverie. You’re expecting some religious fanatics; damn, they could be so annoying. No packages you ordered that you knew of, no plans left forgotten, who could it be—
You’re absolutely taken aback. The breath in your lungs seemingly dissipates into the air, condensing into invisible wispy strands. What’s this? Alex stands before you with a bright smile. His jacket is black and puffy, and he’s got his striped beanie that turns beautiful wild locks of hair into a shape resembling an egg. It’s your boyfriend. He’s suddenly materialized on your doorstep with rolling luggage and smooth words, “Are you gonna invite me in?”
“Alex! Oh my god,” you fly into his arms, darting into them like the floor was a springboard, “this isn’t real. How are you here? This is insane!”
“I flew here; I had to see you,” he says earnestly, “I’m so fucking glad to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you, Lex!”
The two of you are locked in a cozy embrace. Your arms cradle Alex's head like he’s a baby, your baby, as you pepper soft, freckled skin with kisses. He tries to tell you to stop and tries to squirm away, but you aren’t letting go now that he’s here in your hands. 
"You totally lied about the grocery store!"
"Come onn, I couldn't give away the surprise!"
Alex holds you by your waist and takes deep inhales in your neck. Something about your scent and knowing that you’re there in his arms makes him feel high. That makes him feel more than elated, indeed in a near-delirious state of love.
Both of you adjust to him being back. His luggage is left haphazardly in the bedroom while he kicks his shoes off to get comfortable. You can’t help but hang off of him and touch every single part of him as if this is a dream that could not be possible. He preens, feeling your hand smooth down the expanse of his back, covered with a fit Planet Duck t-shirt that made him look so delectable.
You were always attracted to Alex; there was no question about that. However, the combination of not having seen him for long, along with his freshly cut hair, was doing things to you. The experience of being in his space was sending your pussy into overdrive. Even the first shared kiss the two of you have leaves you wanting more as your clit quivers. Alex seems like none the wiser to your needs as the two of you settle down together.
“What do you wanna order, pizza?”
“Whatever you want, handsome,” and your nails scratch at his forearm just to feel his goosebumps prickle up.
“Handsome? Why thank you,” he smirked, giving you an Eskimo kiss. “Are you sure you don’t have a craving for anything?”
“I think… the only craving I have is you.”
“Wow, you must really want me to be begging like this,” he teases, bringing his face so close that his breath hits your lips, “what do you want?”
“I want my boyfriend, who I haven’t seen in months, to fuck the shit out of me. Think that can be arranged?”
“Absolutely,” Alex brings you into a kiss.
His hands weave into the hair at the back of your neck. When he brings you closer, the tension of the pull makes your jaw drop in a gasp. Alex takes advantage of your blatant thirst through your lips by slipping a slick tongue to toy with yours. He tastes like mints, and you fist your hand in his jacket with a crinkle. Both of you sway, shifting first to lean back before you press your lips against him harder and swing a leg over his wide legs. 
It feels sweltering when the two of you pull away with panting breaths. You’re perched high in Alex's lap, and his hands possessively hold the curve of your ass. His lips are pink if slightly bitten, as they swell. You’re sure yours aren’t any better, but it hurts in the best way when you rejoin your lips together for another kiss.
“Extrañe tanto tu cuerpo, quiero comérmelo,” he rasps and rolls you further into his chest, further against his hardening cock.
His words leave you shivering as you roll your hips against him again.
“Wanna ride you first, I’ve missed your cock filling me up sooo much.”
Alex blushes at hearing your praise. Your hands caress his shoulders soothingly as he relaxes more on the couch, “I think about you all the time. Fisting my cock pretending it’s your pussy, fuckk, but it’s never the same.”
“My fingers never do it like yours do,” his sweatpants are expertly undone and tugged down.
“Oh, I know. I always make you feel good,” his hips lift as you lower his boxers to reveal the tan skin of his thick cock.
Your mouth instantly waters at the sight of him. His head is dark and weeping with pre-cum as it twitches in the cool air. Spitting on your hand, eye contact is captivating as you begin to work your hand up and down his cock. Your wrists twist, and Alex lets out a high-pitched moan, hand digging into the plush cushion of the couch. He only whines sweeter and pants heavier as your slick up his dick, working him up till he feels his balls churning with the need to release.
Alex whines when you let go, hands pawing at your waist to align your dripping hole with the head of his cock. His mouth is fast to latch onto your nipples or to lightly nibble at the soft skin of his tummy.
“Be patient,” you lightly chide.
“Can’t, need you too bad,” he moans as delicate fingers touch his cock, “I wanted to surprise you, so now you treat me.”
“What a demanding boy.”
“Ah! Oh, fuck. Fuckfuckfuck,” your soaked pussy sinks down on his fat cock.
He’s not impossible to take, but the stretch still makes your stomach quiver after such a long time. It’s welcoming, though. Your pussy is carved to take Alex, to be fucked relentlessly by him as he makes your tongue loll out your mouth.
“God, fuck! I missed this so much, Lex,” your eyes are teary as you wetly rise and lower yourself on his dick, “making me feel so full.”
“You’re amazing, riding me so well. Hah, ah, you always make me feel good!”
You’re preening and crawling closer with faster hips as Alex wails for you. There are lewd smacking sounds that reverberate through the room as you fuck yourself on his dick. Things heated up so fast that everything felt as though the intensity of your fucking had been turned up to eleven.
His cock curves in your gummy walls. Every downstroke leads to the tip pressing against the spongy spot inside you; it makes your hips seize desperately as you pound yourself against Alex. He’s moved to lightly jerking his hips, mouth suckling on your tits and leaving gentle marks on your back. His nails are blunt, but the sting makes the coils inside you grow tighter and tighter with tension.
You feel so wet, wet, wet. Your walls are squeezing Alex, desperate for every single drop of release, and his orgasm is about to slap him in the face, “I-I’m getting close, oh shit. Babe, fuck, I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum inside me, Lex. I wanna feel it, breed me,” it comes out in a whine as you grow closer and closer to your peak, “gonna cum all over this cock, papi. Fuckkk, you own this pussy! Oh, oh!”
Alex cums first. His hot ropes fill you like warm lava, filling your pussy to the brim with his seed as he groans out from under you. He was at your mercy as you milked him through your orgasm, milky walls squeezing his dick for all it’s worth. Your thighs ache in the best way as you sink into his lap. 
His cum leaks out of you lewdly around his softening cock. Both your eyes meet as you regain your breath. He looks a mess, and you know you do two as your sweaty bodies rest against each other. A flicker of fondness turns into a full-blown flame, “I-I love you. I missed you so much.”
“I love and miss you too, a ton,” he whispers, “and I’m glad I came to surprise you.”
You smile at him with watery eyes, “Yeah, me too.”
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kore-arts · 2 months
Text
DRUMROLL
Me and @aurora-bore-aura have whipped up a Fabulous new au!
Introducing! The Lost Voices!
What happens when you toss in an Ex Hero, his “younger” and Older siblings(read Dani and Dan), His Two Partners, Red Robin on a Year long Vacay with his Partners Bernard and Kon and Ember the Pop Rock Ghost In one Van?
That's Right! Band Au bitches!!!! Well band and food truck au since I hc Bernard as Totes tone deaf.
Ok so
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Danny! He retired, in desperate need of a new Vacation and Hobby.
And surprisingly Ember absolutely went wild when she invited him to ghost karaoke.
So his wail gave him a sirens voice, that's new. Welcome!
Wait. What if he made a Band?
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Turns out Tucker is a Wizard with a soundboard. And Sam plays the Bass and drums nicely.
And for a bit the four played gigs all over the place, a niche band called the Lost Voices. (Sam suggested and that earned a surprising Kiss from Ember. Hey! Poly Band time hehehe)
Sure Tucker pre-recorded the drums. But they All agreed they wanted a bit more. A fresher view.
So! Auditions!
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(Not done Bernard Yet)
Ok so Gay/Bi panic. And oh, the ancients were Tim and Kon good.
Tims voice a holy thing and his drum playing is even better.
And Kon!!! The piano was a surprise but man his fingers moved at a unmatched speed. Ok Danny *knew* they were semi death touched. Eh probably just liminal.
So they are invited! And they play in metropolis for a while and they start booming
Tim and Kon grin seeing a opportunity.
One Band van, one food truck and a Tour set up later? They are officially on the road and on tour for a Year. With Dan Driving and Dani happily along the ride they are set!
Tim did make it clear its a vacation and he would send postcards unless it's monthly call or emergency.
Babs is still laughing because he forgot to mention he is in the band that's rising faster then Canaries old band.
Oh well, time to remind Dick and Bruce to not constantly call.
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Pt1(Here!) Pt2. Pt3. Pt4
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