#putting miles in a box and shaking him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

runnning-outof-time · 9 months

Text

The Brother That Always Wins | Tommy Shelby x Reader

Request: yes by @kpopgirlbtssvt

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader, with hints of John Shelby and Arthur Shelby trying their hand at flirting with the reader

Summary: (Y/N) is oblivious to the fact that three of the most powerful men in Birmingham are interested in her. When it's all said and done though, the brother that always wins, wins.

Warnings: language, drinking, terribly written flirting

Word Count: 4350

A/N: this story turned into an absolute ride, one that I enjoyed much more than I thought I would. It’s a bit of controlled chaos…I hope you’re ready for it. Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Comment/Message Me if you’d like to be tagged in future stories similar to this one!

"The fuck are you grinnin' for?" John Shelby asked as soon as his brother, Arthur entered the snug. He couldn't help himself, his older sibling's grin was able to be seen from a mile away.

"I just helped the most gorgeous woman I've ever seen in me life," Arthur proudly answered, his chest jutting out slightly as he spoke.

"Helped in what way, eh?" Tommy questioned, his one eyebrow raised. He'd been reading the newspaper and keeping to himself, only half-listening as John talked away about whatever, but he couldn't deny that he was interested in what Arthur had to say.

"I bet you he just stood there and gawked at her!" John chimed in before Arthur could respond, a smug grin on his face.

"I did not!" Arthur snapped back at his younger sibling, sending a glare his way, "I had a bloody conversation with her and all!"

"What happened?" Tommy asked another question, slowly losing his patience as he waited.

"So she was walkin' with a box, right? A big ass box...one that's too big for a lady like her to be carryin’. But she was walkin' with it. And so I was watchin' her from across the road, because she was goin' the same way I was. We must've walked for some time, how long I don't remember. Anyways, she gets to this one stretch and she trips...loses her fuckin' balance or something. All of the things in the box go flyin'. So I did what any man does and ran 'cross the street to help her. We put all the shit back into the box and then when she looked up at me, I thought I was gonna die on the spot. She was so fuckin' beautiful, lads. Shy, and sweet, and just fuckin'...gorgeous. I swear to you that if she would've..."

"Get on with the story, Arthur," Tommy interjected into Arthur's tangent, making him snap out of the attraction-riddled daze that he was quickly slipping into.

"Yeah, right," Arthur nodded, shaking his head slightly as he tried to recall where he was. "She was actin' so shy and thankin' me for helpin' her clean the stuff up that I couldn't but just be, fuckin'..."

"Arthur," Tommy said in a warning tone.

"I'm gettin' on with it," he brushed his brother off before continuing, "I couldn't help but not want to leave her. So I asked her where she was goin' and she said to the school. That was out of my way, but I didn't fuckin' care. I carried her things to the school she went on with thankin' me again. She was so fuckin' gorgeous and...shit, boys, I think I might be in love," he finished up his story, continuing on with it despite the scoffs or stiffled laughter coming from his brothers.

"You said she was going to the school?" John asked a question once it was clear that Arthur was finished with his story.

"Yeah...she's a fuckin' teacher, mate. Even better," Arthur grinned.

"Did you get her name?" John asked another question.

"Course I did!" Arthur responded like it was obvious.

Silence fell in the snug then, the three men looking between each other. John waited on bated breath for a few moments before it became obvious that Arthur wasn't going to say it without being prompted. "What was it?"

"(Y/N), I think it was," Arthur recalled, his answer making John choke out a weird sound, one that seemed to be a mixture of a scoff and a laugh. "What?"

"She's Katie's fuckin' teacher, mate!" John exclaimed, his declaration making Arthur's eyes widen. "She is fuckin' gorgeous, I'll tell you that," he then agreed with Arthur, a wide grin now plastered across his face.

John and Arthur then went about talking about her after Arthur prompted his younger sibling to tell him all that he knew about her. Tommy sat in his chair, half reading the paper and half listening to their conversation. He couldn't deny that he was intrigued by his brothers' stories, and everything they said about her made him want to go and meet her for himself even more.

"Can I help you?" (Y/N) (Y/L/N) asked the man that she swore appeared in her doorway out of nowhere. He was dressed in an expensive looking three-piece suit with an equally as expensive looking overcoat over top of it, as well as a peaked cap atop his head.

"I'm looking for (Y/N)," the man answered.

"You found her," (Y/N) smiled, setting her book down on the desk to give the man her full attention. "Is there something I can help you with?"

"I was directed to you by the front office. They said you're in charge of the donations?"

"That depends...if you're looking to donate to the building, you'll need to speak with our headmaster, but if you're looking to donate directly to the children, you can speak to me," she explained with a smile. She was proud to have been named the head of the board that made sure the children in the school had the tools they needed in order to thrive in the learning environment.

"I'm looking to donate to the children."

"Then you're in the right place," she chirped, "you can come over here and we'll get into the details of it," she said then, waving him over to her desk.

He finally entered the room, and as he walked over, (Y/N) felt the commanding aura that swirled around him. It wasn't one that made her scared, but rather one that filled her with intrigue.

"Can I have the name for the donation?" she asked once she had a piece of paper and a pencil ready.

"It's Thomas Shelby," he answered her, watching as realization sparked in her eyes. He couldn't help but think that Arthur was absolutely right - for once in his life...she was absolutely gorgeous.

"Shelby? I have a student whose last name is Shelby."

"Katie?" Tommy questioned, even though he already knew who she was talking about.

"Yes!" (Y/N) happily answered, "Katie's such a lovely girl. Who is she to you?" she couldn't help but ask.

"She's my niece," he shared, his words making her nod in understanding.

"What sort of donation would you like to make, Mr. Shelby?" she asked then, the pencil ready in her hand.

"I'd like to make it so that all of the children in the year you teach have whatever they need to excel in their classes," he answered, speaking in a nonchalant tone.

"Oh...my goodness," she gasped, stopping what she was writing as the weight of his statement finally clicked in her mind.

"Is there a problem?"

"No, it's just that..." she trailed off, unable to put her thoughts properly into words, "no one has made such a generous donation before."

"I like to make sure that others benefit from the wealth I've gained," he told her in an assured tone. Well that was one of the reasons why he'd made such a donation.

"I...uh, goodness, I don't even know where to start," she confessed, still genuinely baffled by his generosity. "Usually I'd go through with the person donating and we'd make a list of where the funds can be allocated, but with your overwhelming donation, I'm not sure I know what to do first," she added, a sheepish smile present on her face when she looked up at him again.

"It's nothing you'd need to have done in a hurry," he told her, showing that he wasn't upset by her unsuredness.

"I'd hate to waste your time now and make you wait..." she trailed off, biting on the end of the pencil as she tried to think of some ways his funds could be used.

Spending time with you would not be time wasted, Tommy thought to himself just as an idea came to mind: "what if we go for dinner at the end of the week? You can have time to think of ideas and you'll share them with me then," he proposed, his eyebrows raising slightly as he awaited her response.

(Y/N) took a moment to think about his proposition. It'd certainly be a good idea for her to have more time to think about it, and she couldn't say that she'd be opposed to having dinner with this man. "Dinner sounds nice," she gave her answer after a few moments had passed, "I'll come prepared with good ideas," she assured him with a smile.

"I'm sure whatever ideas you'll bring will interest me," Tommy told her, nodding once before he took a step back towards the door.

"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. It's a great pleasure to have you working with us," (Y/N) smiled, still truly overwhelmed by his generosity.

"The pleasure's mine, (Y/N)," he couldn't help but let a smile break onto his lips as he looked over her one last time. They said their goodbyes then, and Tommy exited the school. He was genuinely pleased with the fact that she'd agreed to have dinner with him. It was certainly a step in the right direction with her.

John Shelby entered the school that his children attended two days after his brother did. He was unsuccessful in finding someone who could help direct him to the room he wanted to visit, but thankfully found the woman he was looking for as she walked towards the main doors from down a hallway.

"Miss (Y/L/N)!" he called to her, hoping to get her attention.

To his luck, she heard him. "Can I help you?" she asked with a smile, one that made John feel like he was going to go weak at the knees.

"Yes. You're my daughter's teacher. Her name's Katie Shelby. I wanted to ask how she's been doing in class," he told her the reason behind him being there. Truthfully he couldn't care less about Katie's performance. School wasn't something he was ever interested in, but if it meant he'd be able to talk to an utterly gorgeous woman, he'd give the performance of the century.

"Oh Katie!" (Y/N) answered, her smile growing wider as she recalled one of her students, "she's amazing...such a pleasure to have in class. She's always working hard and staying on top of her assignments," she then gave him a run down on his daughter's performance.

John nodded as she spoke. He had no shame in the fact that he was only half listening to her answer; being too preoccupied with drinking in her appearance. Silence fell between them then as that topic of conversation passed quickly. John didn't want her to leave just yet, so he scrambled for another talking point. "I heard that you met my brother, Arthur, the other day," he said then. It wasn't his best choice of topic, but he hoped it would keep her around. His hopes fell when a look of confusion formed on her pretty face. Shit, John...save yourself here! "He, uh...he told me that he helped you with one of your boxes...?" he ended his statement like it was a question, hoping that she'd show some sort of recollection.

Realization did appear on her face, but the sentence that accompanied it was one that left John confused: "oh...it seems I've met two of your brothers," she informed him, effectively making him wear the same expression she had moments ago. She took the time to explain then: "Thomas came in a few days ago to arrange a generous donation to aid the children who come here."

Fucks sake. John couldn't help but sigh internally. Tommy had already sunk his paws into the territory John thought he'd have a leg up in. "Oh he did?" he decided to play it cool, hoping that his aggravation didn't bubble up to the surface.

"He did. The other teachers and I are all so thankful for the contribution," (Y/N) answered, her smile telling John that he was doing well at masking how he was really feeling.

"Well I'm happy to hear that," John stated, running a hand over his face as he tried to think of a way to divert the conversation away from Tommy. "I can't say enough how happy I am that my daughter has a wonderful, smart, caring teacher like yourself," he said then, deciding to go the compliment route. There were many other things he wanted to include while referring to her, but he didn't want to overdo it.

"Awe thank you, Mr. Shelby. As I've said before, Katie is such a pleasure to have in class," (Y/N) accepted the compliment with grace, a bashful smile forming on her face.

Silence fell around them for a few beats before John spoke again: "you're probably wantin' to get home, so I should probably go," he stated, nodding his head back towards the main doors of the school.

"Oh yes, it's certainly been a long day," she answered with a nod.

"I'll see you around sometime then," John began to say his goodbyes.

"You certainly will," (Y/N) sent him one last smile before John turned and exited the school.

John was thankful to see the majority of his family sitting around the main table of the betting shop when he entered it that evening.

"Where've you been, John Boy?" Arthur asked, everyone's eyes following John as he made his way to an open chair.

"I just left the school," John answered, his face straight as he spoke.

"The school?" Arthur questioned.

"Something happen with one of the children?" Polly asked, her brows furrowed.

"No, everything's fine with them," John quelled her concern.

"Why were you at the school then?" Polly asked another question.

"Ah I know...you were tryin' to see the hot teacher, huh?" Arthur chimed in before John could answer, a grin now present on his face.

John shot a glare in his brother's direction, slightly annoyed by the fact that he was a little too anxious to know. But with all of the eyes in the room on him, he figured he may as well give up. "Yeah, I went to see her."

"Did ya talk to her?" Arthur eagerly asked.

John didn't miss Polly's eyeroll before he answered his brother: "yeah, I did...and I was told that Tommy already went and talked to her." He couldn't help but glance at Tommy from the corner of his eye, seeing if his statement roused any type of reaction from him.

"Why would you have gone to talk to the childrens' teacher, Thomas?" Polly was the one to ask, her eyes now zeroed in on him.

"She told me that he wanted to make a donation to the school," John offered more information, a sour tone still present in his voice.

"Tommy," Polly sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead.

"We've arranged to have dinner one of these upcoming evenings to discuss it further," Tommy nonchalantly shared more details of his meeting with (Y/N).

"Bloody hell, Tommy," Arthur grumbled, a frown on his face as he shook his head. He'd have no chance in hell with her now.

"Why was this not brought up in a family meeting?" Polly asked a sensible question, seemingly unaware of the brothers' reason behind their responses.

"Because I have decided that we need to start putting back into the city," Tommy answered, an authoritative tone laced into his voice.

"And you thought that the school would be the most logical place to start?" she quirked an eyebrow.

"Why not?"

"You're putting yourself into places you shouldn't be...if this blows up in your face, I won't be here for it," Polly spoke in a firm tone, showing her distaste for his decision.

Tommy held his gaze on her, an uninterested look present in his eyes. He didn't quite care what his aunt had to say about this, he was going to continue on how he saw fit.

Polly held his gaze, waiting for him to say something. When he didn't, she rolled her eyes and let out a scoff before turning and stalking over to the door. She stopped before she could grab the handle, abruptly turning to look at the three men sitting at the table. "If any of you make her cry or so much as hurt a single strand of hair on her head..." she paused, pursing her lips as she shook her head slightly, "you will have hell to pay." Her voice was flat, but her tone was serious, and she let no one respond before she opened the door and exited the betting shop.

"Ms. Gray, it's so nice to see you again," (Y/N) said with a smile as she found the older woman standing in the doorway of her classroom. "Is everything ok with Katie? We missed her in class today."

"Katie's fine," Polly quelled the teacher's worry, "she was feeling ill so she stayed home."

"Oh, ok. I hope she gets better soon," (Y/N) offered her regards with a smile, one that Polly reciprocated. "Is there something that you need?"

"Yes," Polly didn't beat around the bush, "my nephew, Tommy, came to speak with you the other day..." she began, trailing off in hopes that (Y/N) would continue.

"Yes, he did!" she took the bait without question, "he made a very generous donation, and then suggested we have dinner to work the smaller points of it out."

"And how did that go?" Polly asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," (Y/N) smiled in response, "the children are already benefiting from the money he's given. It was very kind of him to do this."

Nothing Tommy Shelby has done was done just for the sake of 'being kind', Polly thought to herself as she mentally scoffed at the younger woman's statement. "I'm happy to hear that the children are benefitting from it," Polly said in response, keeping her thoughts on her nephew's intentions to herself.

(Y/N) smiled in response, completely overjoyed by the kindness of the Shelby family that she was oblivious to even the mere thought of Tommy having other intentions behind his decision to donate. Nothing else was said then as the women exchanged parting words.

(Y/N) smoothed out her dress as she reached the doors of the establishment. She hoped that the outfit she chose didn't make her over, or under, dressed for the occasion. With a deep breath, she grabbed the handle and opened the door, the sounds of chatter and music smacking her in the face. She entered the pub with a smile, hoping to quickly find a familiar face.

Of course one of the Shelbys quickly found her at the door. It was their re-opening party after all, and a beautiful woman like (Y/N) was most certainly not going to go unnoticed.

"Oi, you came!" Arthur was the first of the brothers to spot her, and a big grin was plastered across his face as he moved over to greet her.

"Yes! This place looks lovely!" she answered, smiling as she looked around the room.

"We made sure to get the best of the best," he boasted, his grin still present. "And speakin' of the best...can I offer one of the best women I've seen a drink?" he smoothly transitioned, his one eyebrow raised as he looked at her.

"I'd love one, thank you," she answered, smiling at his kindness.

"Come on then," he stated, offering her his arm so that he could lead her to the bar.

She accepted it, walking over to an open seat so that he could go around the bar and get her a drink. She thanked him again when he set it down in front of her, and just as he leaned up against the bar, ready to chat with her, Isiah came to him with a matter of business. He left her with a slight frown and an 'excuse me, love,' before going off with the younger man. (Y/N) sat by herself, sipping her drink and enjoying the revelry around her. She wasn't alone for long though.

"(Y/N) (Y/L/N)...I didn't think I'd see you here," shock was present in John Shelby's voice as he came up beside her.

"I decided to stop in and see what all of the talk was about," she smiled at him.

"Well we're certainly happy to have you here," he grinned at her, trying so hard not to give her a once over. "Say why don't you come and share a dance with me?" he suggested.

"Oh, I couldn't," she turned down his offer, her shyness creeping in.

"Come on...a quick dance wouldn't hurt," he didn't quite give up hope.

"I'm rather terrible at dancing."

"You've not seen me dance then."

(Y/N) bit her lip to conceal her giggles, surprised with how forward he was.

"Come on..." John coaxed her, hand outstretched in her direction. She was hesitant, but accepted it, allowing him to lead her to the floor. "Just follow my lead and you'll be fine," he said, assuming the position before he began to lead her in a similar dance to what the other partygoers were doing.

(Y/N) couldn't help but smile as she danced around the floor with John. She certainly was having fun, not really thinking about what she looked like or what others thought. John couldn't believe that he was dancing with one of the most beautiful women in the room.

They danced for about two songs before (Y/N) excused herself, wanting to go have a seat. John allowed her to go, deciding that he'd go into the snug and check on Finn - who he knew was sneaking stronger drinks than what his brothers originally told him he could have.

(Y/N) found a newly opened seat at the bar as soon as she came to it. She was bummed that her drink had been lost, but she didn't need to worry about that for too long.

"You made it," Tommy Shelby's voice came from her left, making her turn slightly to see him approaching her from behind the bar.

"I did, thanks for inviting me," (Y/N) smiled at him, "this party's amazing!" she commented, glancing around the room.

"It is," Tommy agreed once she focused on him again, "can I get you something to drink?"

"Please," she smiled kindly at the offer, watching as he went about grabbing a bottle from the shelf. "I wanted to also thank you, again, for the dinner and the donation. The children have already gotten some of the supplies that we've received, and they're loving them," she shared some information once he came back with a glass for her.

"That's good news," he nodded, taking a drink from his glass then. "You know I was thinking maybe...maybe you and I could have dinner again, without the need to talk about the donations this time," he proposed, watching her intently as he waited for a response.

(Y/N) couldn't stop her eyes from lighting up at his suggestion. She had a lovely time with him at their first dinner. "I'd like that," she answered with a smile.

"Figured we could get to know each other better."

"That would be lovely," she agreed, giggling slightly at the fact that he was practically reading her mind.

The two then went about planning the dinner, agreeing on a time and place. (Y/N) couldn't help but feel giddy when he suggested a restaurant that was far more classy than the first place they'd met. If she wasn't excited before...she certainly was now.

As they spoke more, Polly Gray kept a close eye on them from across the room. She'd been watching the brothers all evening as they tried their hand at her. It became clear to her, though, that Tommy had ended out on top as she watched them converse at the bar. She could easily tell from how (Y/N) was invested in their conversation, giggling and leaning closer to him when he'd speak, that what he was doing was being received well. John and Arthur wouldn't have much of a chance now.

-One Year Later-

Slowly, Tommy lifted the veil up to reveal (Y/N)'s smiling face. He draped it over her head and let his eyes dance across her features, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips as he felt the joy radiating from her.

"We are gathered here today to witness the marriage of (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N) and Thomas Michael Shelby," the officiant began, commanding the attention of everyone in the church.

Ever since the evening of the party at the Garrison, (Y/N) and Tommy found themselves wrapped up in a whirlwind of a romance. Tommy proposed after five months of them being together, knowing that he wasn't going to find another woman like her. They spent five months being engaged and doing a great amount of traveling - it was the summer holiday for (Y/N), so she was able to follow Tommy wherever he went. Now they were standing at the altar in front of a great number of guests who were anxiously waiting to see them pronounce their love for each other.

Well...two of the guests were exactly anxious. John and Arthur sat on Tommy's side of the church, watching as the ceremony commenced. Both were happy for their brother, but they'd be lying if they said that they weren't bummed that it wasn't them up with (Y/N).

Everyone stood up and celebrated as the officiant pronounced Tommy and (Y/N) 'man and wife', and they shared their first kiss as a married couple.

"As always..." John started, elbowing Arthur in the ribcage as they both clapped for their brother, "Tommy gets the girl, and we've gotta sit back and watch."

Arthur couldn't help but snort as he heard what John had to say. "You're right, John boy," he agreed, shaking his head but nonetheless continuing clapping.

No matter what happened, or how hard John and Arthur tried to get ahead, Tommy would forever be the brother that always wins.

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21 @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @notyour-valentine @shelbydelrey @onlydeadcells @peakyswritings @just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder @midnightmagpiemama @cillmequick @rangerelik @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @itscheybaby @gypsy-girl-08 @insanitybyanothername @depxiety @raincoffeeandfandoms @dragons-are-my-favorite @acewritesfics @forgottenpeakywriter @cljordan-imperium @areyenotfondofmelobster @little-diable @thomashelbyswife @iambored24601 @shaddixlife

MASTERLIST

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby one shot #tommy shelby oneshot #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders one shot #peaky blinders oneshot #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic

4K notes · View notes

lnfours · 9 months

Text

doll | l.n

summary: ‘i’m not even joking when i say i’ve fallen in love w the way you write lando you have me giggling every single time and i love it - i’m not sure if your requests are open rn, but cld i request a lando x reader enemies to lovers kinda vibe? honestly whatever you wanna go with is fine but i need need tooth rotting fluff rn so maybe he has a nickname for her that only he uses and there’s a lot of oblivious-ness from both of them over the fact that they like each other :’‘)’ - @mars-dreamworld

warnings: fluff, language, enemies to lovers, female!racer, just overall a whirlwind of emotions. strap in.

masterlist | ask box 💌

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

lando norris was absolutely, most definitely, 100% the most insufferable person you had ever met.

in the beginning of the year, mclaren had announced that you’d be joining the team as a third driver, and of course people men took it to social media to express how they felt women didn’t belong in the sport. that racing was a ‘real man’s’ sport.

and now you needed to prove them all wrong, prove you were worth your spot on the team. you know you didn’t have to, that it wouldn’t necessarily change people’s minds, but you worked hard to be here. countless sleepless nights, crashes, tunings, everything, was worth this moment.

and now it was your chance. oscar had ended up with an injury after a crash in one of the practice races over the weekend, ultimately giving you his spot until he was recovered.

you and lando hadn’t really gotten along. you had found yourself battling with him on the track, the two of you going head to head in the garage after practices. you had thought his ego and his sarcasm was unattractive, whereas he simply just saw you as a threat.

but, deep down, he had a soft spot for you that he kept buried under the fake hatred. he didn’t actually hate you, who could? he admired your hard work and dedication, but be couldn’t help but feel like you were trying to take his spot.

“what the fuck, norris?!” you yelled, throwing your helmet to the ground as you stormed over to him. he wore a smug look on his face that you would’ve found attractive if it weren’t for the fact that he felt the need to cut you off in turn 5.

“what?”

“are you thinking with your brain or your dick?!” you shoved his chest, but he didn’t move a muscle. he didn’t even budge, just looked down at you with those stupidly gorgeous green eyes.

“you’d know if i was thinking with my dick, doll.”

“don’t call me that.” you gave him a hard look and he put his hands up in fake surrender, shaking them like he was scared.

and that’s where it all started, that stupid fucking nickname. every time he said it, it made your blood boil, made you want to connect your knee with his crotch. now that he knew how to press your buttons, he wasn’t ever going to let you live.

right now, your face was red as your blood boiled, sitting in the drivers room as your leg bounced. the two of you had it out again today, the crew immediately separating the two of you and telling you both to knock it off.

the embarrassment from your crew telling you to quit acting like a child replayed in your head the rest of the day and as you sat in drivers room, and slowly your anger turned into sadness. you sucked in a shaky breath, trying to keep your composure, but you failed. the tear rolled down your cheek and you sniffled to yourself.

but of course, the door opened at the wrong time, causing you to wipe your cheeks quickly before looking at who decided to barge in. your eyes met lando’s green ones, which immediately softened upon looking at you.

“can i help you with something?”

he licked his lips, his brain going a mile a minute. why were you crying? was it because of him? fuck.

“i uhm,” he stammered over his words, letting out a breath before speaking, “are you crying?”

you shook your head, wiping your cheek on the shoulder of your race suit, “no.”

he knew better, though. the door closed behind him as he sat across from you, “you don’t have to lie, y/n.”

the way your name sounded rolling off his tongue with that stupid accent made your stomach do flips, but you refused to give in. this is what he wanted, right? pull you close enough to destroy you and prove to everyone that you’re actually not good enough to be here.

“why do you care?” you asked, an eyebrow raising, “it’s not like you actually give a fuck, so can you go somewhere else with your fake sympathy?”

he immediately got defensive, “what makes you think i don’t care about you? would i have run over to you the other day at practice when you crashed if i didn’t care about you?”

you thought back to last week, your car going into the barrier on the track. lando had seen the crash, immediately following the crew onto the track and ignoring the drop in his stomach. you had climbed out, shaken up but okay when he reached you. he grabbed onto your shoulders after you tugged your mask and helmet off, your eyes distant as he searched them.

“y/n?” his voice was laced with concern, “y/n, are you okay?”

you snapped out of it, meeting his eyes before you looked down at your body, “i think so…?”

he grabbed your face into his hands gently, turning your face side to side as he tried to examine you. the medics pulled up, rushing over to you.

“it’s okay, we’ve got it from here.” the female said to lando. he hesitated before he let go, letting them lead you over to the back of the ambulance to check you over. you looked back at him, the feeling of his hands on your cheeks lingering as they ushered you in.

you looked back at the brit, shrugging, “i dunno.”

he chuckled, but it wasn’t laced with humor, more like disappointment, “okay,”

“why would i think that when you’re always trying to prove that you’re better than me?”

he didn’t say anything, looking down at the tile floor, “because i’m threatened by you.”

you scoffed, “tell me something i don’t know.”

“no, you don’t get it,” he said, sitting up again, “i’m threatened by you because you’re good. you’re insanely good. you race well, you train hard, everyone here loves you, the fans. you’re an inspiration. something i’ve always wanted to be for someone.”

your attitude shifted, looking over at the boy across from you. he wore a sad, regretful face as he played with the zipper on his suit.

“you’re an inspiration, lando,” you said, “the little boy who dressed up like you the other day? the one who said he wanted to be just like you?”

he shrugged, “one boy compared to thousands of little girls who see themselves in you. i know i shouldn’t be upset, you’re literally changing history, but seeing it makes me wish i was someone like you.”

“you’re right, you’re not like me,” you said, moving to sit next to him, “you’re lando norris, the one who got P2 in your home grand prix a few weeks ago, the one who goes out of their way to say hi to literally all the fans and take pictures with them. you’re literally someone’s ray of sunshine.”

he smiled softly, letting you continue, “be like you. don’t be like me, lan.”

his head snapped up at the nickname, “did you just call me ‘lan’?”

a smile spread across his face and you let out a soft laugh, “i guess i did.”

he smiled back, “thank you, though. i needed that. and, i’m sorry for how i’ve been towards you.”

you waved him off, the smile still playing at your lips. you tried to bite it back with your lower lip tucked between your teeth. he swore his heart skipped a beat at the sight. you nodded your head softly, “we’re cool. just pipe down the ego a bit, yeah?”

he let out a chuckle. being this close to him made you realize there was a hint of blue in his green eyes, the short stubble growing back from where he had shaved his facial hair. he was undeniably pretty and you were getting wrapped up in him and distracted. he was doing the same, his eyes scanning over every single one of your facial features as he tried his hardest to memorize them.

you smiled softly, “why’re you looking at me like that?”

he smirked, “you mean the same way you’re looking at me?”

you blushed, turning away from him but his eyes were still locked onto you. you went to stand up, smiling softly at him as it was nearing the beginning of the next race.

“i’ll see you out there.”

he smiled, “see you out there, doll.”

you shook your head, letting out a soft laugh as you let the door close behind you, the nickname no longer making your blood boil but suddenly making your stomach do flips.

lando norris was going to be the death of you.

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris fic #lando norris request #lando norris blurb #lando norris x reader fluff #fluff #blurb #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 blurb #mclaren #mclaren imagine #imagine #lando norris x female reader #lando norris x fem!racer #enemies to lovers #lando norris enemies to lovers

1K notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

Beggin' For It | Joel Miller

The Checklist - Orgasm Denial

Chapter Summary | Your new boyfriend Joel, in the process of helping you pack up your apartment, finds your stash of porn, full of all the things you've been scared of asking for. He surprises you by offering to help you tick them off, starting by denying you the thing you always love the most.

Chapter Warnings | This is basically porn without plot. Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected PiV sex, talk of contraceptives, orgasm denial, creampie, dirty talk, pet names (baby), hair pulling, established relationship, No Outbreak AU, No Use of Y/N.

Word Count | 3.7k

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Authors Note | Well here we go, the Joel Miller Kink extravaganza. I had SO much fun writing this and putting this together so I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I love writing it! If you do enjoy this, reblogs and comments are always appreciated, and if you'd like to support me further, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi.

Your face is burning hot, and your stomach is in knots of anxiety as you stand in the doorway to your room, two glasses of water in hand, watching Joel, who is sat on your bed with a spread of magazine’s spread out across the duvet. Those fucking magazines, stored carefully in the bottom drawer of your bedside table. Some are straight up pornographic, plucked from the top shelf of the store, paid for and shoved into the depths of your bag before anyone apart from you and the cashier knew what it was. Others are those silly gossip magazines, Cosmopolitan mainly, pages folded in all of them of the pictures you like the most, the ones that help you get off the quickest, the things you want to try the most. And they’re all spread out for him to see.

“W-where did you f-find those?” You choke out, swallowing thickly, hands gripping the two glasses so hard you’re surprised they don’t shatter.

Joel shrugs, “You asked me to start packing the stuff from the drawers into boxes,” He says, because you did, your apartment in disarray as you’re packing up to move into his home, “I opened the drawer and found them.”

Joel was never planned. You’d been more than happy on your own. When you met him, on a random Sunday morning, you’d been out of your last relationship for almost a year. You’d been staring at different types of nails at the hardware store, cursing yourself that you hadn’t thought to research what the best nails for hanging pictures up would be, when his Southern drawl had pricked your ears.

“Need any help, miss?”

You’d turned, taken a step back because he was taller than you, broad, and definitely older too. Grey scruff peppered along his jaw, some in his hair too, and big brown eyes that screamed kindness at you. He was the most gorgeous man you’d ever seen.

“Huh?” Was all you could manage to let out, cursing yourself for seeming like the typical dumb woman at the hardware store.

“Been milling around gettin’ some stuff and you’ve been starin’ at that wall’a nails for a while,” He chuckles, stepping forward so he’s next to you, “What d’ya need ‘em for?”

“Oh,” You breathe, he smells good too, woodsy and masculine, “I’m wanting to hang some pictures on my walls.”

He hums in understanding, reaching over to grab a pack of nails that are miles longer than the ones you would have chosen. He holds them out to you, which you take, fingertips brushing against his as you do, “Thanks,” You smile at him, “I would never have chosen these ones.”

“You got everythin’ you need to hang them?” He asks, “Tools and stuff?”

You shrug this time, “I’ve got a hammer, is that going to do it?”

The look in his eyes is akin to what you imagine someone would look like if you’d just kicked a dog in front of them, he shakes his head and reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wallet and then hands you card that he pulls out. You take it, the words ‘Miller Contracting’ and a phone number underneath it.

“Usually, I’m more of a building from scratch guy, but you can’t hammer these nails into a wall, so give me a call and I can come and hang your pictures for you.”

So, you do. Late that evening, you call him, tell him you’ve got the weekend free, and you’d like to get your pictures hung. He comes over, you watch him closely as he hangs them perfectly on your wall. You make him dinner as a thank-you, considering he won’t let you pay him, and then after two beers, you let him fuck you on your couch. It’s not usually your style, but nine months later, it seems to have worked, considering he’s moving you into his house.

Like most things that had to do with your life and Joel, moving in this early had never been planned either. Sarah, his daughter, who you’d met multiple times, had her own life, her own home, and the lease to your apartment in the city was ending early. Something to do with the landlord wanting to completely redecorate. Joel had offered his place to you, which made sense, considering you spent most of your time at his anyway. So, you’d emailed your landlord, told him you’d be out by the end of the month, and were now packing up everything you owned to move into Joel’s place. Start a new life.

“Don’t be embarrassed, baby,” He coos, “Some interesting stuff here.” He muses, reaching over to pick up a copy of one of the more explicit magazines, opening it on a page that’s got the corner folded over, the picture is a woman, bent over on her knees with her hands spreading the cheeks of her ass, an anonymous man pounding his cock into her, a look of ecstasy on her face.

You can’t bare it anymore, so you put the glasses down on chest of drawers and made a beeline to snatch it out of his hand, “Now, hold your horses, baby,” He teases, managing to grab your waist to catch you off balance, pulling you onto his lap where you straddle him, the other hand holding the magazine out of your reach, “What do the folded pages mean?”

You groan, letting your forehead fall onto his shoulder, grumbling incoherently into him in the hopes he drops the subject, but this is Joel, and you should have known better. He pushes his shoulder forward, forcing your head up, “I didn’t quite hear you, baby?”

Dick, is what you think, “They’re things I like,” You mumble, “Think that get me off.”

He turns his head towards the bed with a smirk, “Lots of folded pages, baby,” He teases, Joel lets the magazine in his hand drop to the bed, gripping your waist in both hands, “Don’t need to be shy baby, nothin’ wrong with any of it.”

It’s not really that you’re embarrassed by what’s in the magazines, it’s more the fact that even though you and Joel have an extremely healthy sex life, not one you would necessarily call vanilla, but certainly not kinky, there were things you were scared of asking for. There was a mental list of things you’d read about in the advice columns of Cosmo, pictures you’d seen in the other magazines, that you were dying to try, but how do you bring up to your boyfriend of not even a year, that you want him to bend you over and stuff his cock into your ass?

Joel brings a hand up to your face, cups your cheek and brushes the skin there with his thumb, “Why don’t you show me something you want to try?” He coaxes gently, his brown eyes meeting your own.

Your eyes go wide. You had always been worried of asking for these things, worried it would scare him off, or that he just didn’t want to branch out into anything too kinky, but here he is, offering to help make your fantasies come true, “Go on.” He taps at your sides.

You lean over, grab one of the issues of Cosmo and flick through it to the page with the folded corner right at the back. You pass it to Joel, who takes it, letting his eyes flick to the column of sex advice. He clears his throat and starts reading with you still perched on his lap.

“Dear Angela,” he reads in his Southern drawl, “I’ve been with my fiancé for over five years now. We’re very happy and our wedding is in a year’s time, but I’m struggling to connect with him sexually now. I think the problem is that he’s too nice. Outside of the bedroom, this is wonderful, but do you have any advice on how we might be able to spice things up with our sex life?” He then clears his throat again before launching into ‘Angela’s’ response, “Dear reader, this is something I deal with often. You’re happy with everything but the sex, but don’t lose hope because this is fixable. If you want him to get a little mean with you, nothing says that like denying you the big one, the final ‘O’ if you will. Talk to him, tell him it’s something you want, and have fun!”

You’re looking at his face as he ponders what that means. He’s putting the magazine down on the bed, bringing his hands back to your hips, looking into your eyes, “Am I too nice to you, baby?” He coos, “Need me to be a little mean t’ya?”

His voice flashes straight down to your cunt. You wriggle in his lap, the seam of your jeans rubbing along the bulge that is prominent in his own lap. He holds you still, fingers pressing into your hips, “I don’t think so baby, tryin’ to get yourself off like that.”

You groan a little as he lifts you off his lap, spreads you out on the mattress. You open your legs for him, let him settle his hips between yours, grinding his hips as he presses his mouth to yours. You can feel his chest pressed against your own, the entire weight of him smothering your body, his hands smoothing your hair from your forehead as you open your mouth for him, letting him lick into your mouth, tasting him as your tongue works against his.

You buck your hips up into his own, your hands coming down to slip into the back pockets of his jeans, pulling his hips forward so you’re grinding together through your clothes, something skin to how you used to behave as a horny teenager.

“You feelin’ needy, baby?” He whispers into your ear, teeth nipping at your earlobe as he does.

You don’t want to admit that you are, mainly because you know he’s not going to fix the problem. You’ve asked for him to be mean to you, asked him to do nothing but use you and your body for his own pleasure and leave you wanted more, so you just let out a breathy moan, which makes him chuckle, makes him grind his hips into yours again before he pushes himself back on his knees, dragging you up with him so he can pull your t-shirt off your body.

He pushes you gently back down onto the mattress, drags those big palms of his down your sides until he reaches the waist of your jeans. He pops the button, drags the zipper down and moves his body just enough so he can peel the material down your thighs and off your body, throwing them behind him to be forgotten now. Joel leaves your bra on, but drags your pantie down your legs, pushing your thighs apart so you’re bared to him, no doubt slick and shiny for him.

Joel stands from the bed, drops to his knees and starts pressing warm, wet kissed to the insides of your thighs. Up the left side, down the right, but never right where you want it. He teases you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world, and in moments like this you’re always in awe of how patient he is, always willing to defer his own gratification in place of getting you off first and, more often than not, multiple times, before he even thinks of sinking himself into you.

His face finally makes its way to settle where you always love having it, right at the apex of your thighs, where you’re already wet with want for him. You can feel his hot breath skittering across your skin so, although you didn’t think it physically possible, you spread your legs wider, showing him your glistening, slick cunt. His fingers press into your thighs as his mouth presses a single, chaste kiss right to your clit. You breathe out in pleasure, letting yourself relax a little as you feel his tongue move slowly through your folds, moving from your entrance where your slick is pooling, just for him, all the way up to your clit. He teases you a little at first, small little kitten licks placed ever-so-gently to your clit. He knows this is what you like, when he takes his time to work you up to the edge. The edge you have to continually remind yourself you’re not going to get the opportunity to push yourself over.

He pulls his mouth off you when you start moving your hips in time to his mouth, his palm pressing down on your belly to keep you still, “This ain’t for you,” He reminds, nipping at the delicate skin of your thighs with his teeth, “Just makin’ sure you can take me.”

He sinks two fingers into you, curling them up just right, your back arching up off the bed to grind up into his palm as he works you open for him. It doesn’t last nearly long enough, much like with his mouth earlier. Normally he’d make you come on his tongue, then sink those fingers into you and make you come again, but he’s pulling them from your pussy, looking you dead in the eye as he presses his fingers onto your tongue. You clamp your mouth around them, licking your slick from his fingers, rolling your tongue over them in the same way you know he loves on his cock, your eyes training directly on his with no shame as you pull off them with a ‘pop’. You giggle slightly, biting at your bottom lip as Joel leans down to kiss you, tasting you on your own mouth, tasting yourself still lingering on his tongue.

“Taste good, don’tcha baby?” He smirks, pushing you back, watching you intently as he strips himself of his clothes.

You don’t think you’ll ever quite get over how beautiful a man he is when he stands in front of you naked. Defined and muscular at his chest, with those big arms that wrap around you, his belly, spattered with hair trailing all the way down until you get to his cock, hard, almost painfully so at this point. His strong thighs that you love to nestle yourself between at night. He is truly a spectacle and it’s moments like this that you still don’t quite believe he’s yours.

He settles back on the bed, between your thighs, your hands grip at those broad shoulders as he reaches between the two of you, fisting the base of his cock, moving his hips slowly so his cock drags through your slick folds, the bulbous head nudging at your clit as he fists himself, spreading your wet along his length. You feel him settle himself at your entrance, pushing his hips forward just enough to give you just the tip. His nose runs along your jawline, kisses from his mouth trailing just behind, as he rocks his hips into your own, but only ever enough that it’s just the tip of his cock inside.

“Beg for it baby,” He breathes into your skin, “You want my cock?”

“Want it so bad, Joel,” You whine, moving your hips into his to try and take him deeper, but he’s gripping your thigh, warning you not to push it, “Please, Joel, please fuck me.”

“Beggin’ for it even though you ain’t gonna come?” He teases, one hand moving up to your chest to pull the cups of your bra down, fingers taking your nipple and rolling.

“Wanna feel you.” You say, burying your head into his neck, pressing your own kisses to his skin.

Joel seems to find that satisfactory, slowly pushing himself all the way into you, dragging himself all the way out again. He leans back a bit, gripping you behind your knees to press your thighs as far into your chest as he can get them. Then he really does fuck you. He’s big, and although you know you can take him, it’s always a shock to you that it’s so easy. That he can pound into you with the ferocity he currently is, tip of his cock brushing against your cervix in that perfect mix of pleasure and pain.

“Awful quiet baby,” He gasps out, watching you bite at your bottom lip, “Don’t like it when you don’t get to feel good?”

You shake your head, Joel dragging himself all the way out of your aching cunt, flipping you over onto your belly. He presses his palm into the back of your neck, keeping your lower half pressed to the bed, whilst his other hand drags you up onto your knees, ass in the air for him as he guides his cock right back to you, thrusting back in all the way. You always loved it when Joel fucked you like this. The angle always managing to feel just perfect as he fucks you.

The only sound in the room is that of your combined moans, little grunts from him and whines from your mouth, and the sound of his hips hitting yours, sweaty skin against sweaty skin. You’re starting to regret asking for this, because God it would be so easy for him to reach round, press his fingers to your clit and tip you over the edge in seconds. If it wasn’t for the way his hand was pressing at the nape of your neck, you could do it yourself, so desperate to feel the euphoria of coming undone around him.

Joel’s thrusts are getting more frantic, even though it’s only been nine months of you together, you know he’s not going to last much longer. He slides his hand down and into the hair on the back of your head, gripping it tightly in his fist to drag your head up and out of the material of the bed. The sounds of yours once muffled by the duvet under you now let loose into the room, echoing around the walls and doing nothing but egging him on, getting him closer to the finish line.

“You like this, huh?” He asks you from behind, “Like getting’ used, baby?”

“Yes Joel,” Because you do, despite knowing you don’t get to finish, something about him being selfish with you, using you just get himself off, makes you unbelievably wet, “Still feels good.”

You can hear him chuckle, fingers of his other hand gripping so hard to your hip that you’re sure he’s going to bruise you there. You don’t mind, not really, you love carrying him around with you like that. Secret marks on your skin, evidence that you’re his that only you know, only you can see, apart from when he bites at your neck, claiming you in front of everyone.

“I’m close baby,” You can hear from behind you, the grip his hand has in your hair arching your back perfectly, angling him just so that if he just carried on like this for a few minutes you think he could make you come just like this, “You want it inside?” He asks, “Want me to fill you up?”

This was new between the two of you, still exciting. After months of using condoms, never once a complaint from Joel, you’d held up the tiny packet of pills, the ones you’d been taking for a week in secret. Asked him to fuck you bare, fill you up with every drop if his cum, and the two of you were struggling to find a way of finishing that you enjoyed more than this.

“Please,” You beg, whimpering as he gives another tug to your hair, pulling you back into him even further, “Please Joel.”

“Ain’t no need for beggin’ now baby,” He groans thickly behind you, “Nowhere else I’d rather be.”

You feel his hips slam into the plush of your ass a few more times before he goes still, groaning deep from his chest as you feel the warmth of his cum spread through your cunt. You can feel your own walls fluttering around him, taking his spend as deep as you can whilst trying to catch your breath.

Fuck. You can hear him sucking in ragged breaths from behind you, hands still gripping your hips as he pulls himself from you. You whine at the loss of him, push your hips back trying to coax him into giving you what you want. God, this was such a stupid thing to want. Why would you want Joel to deny you the very thing he’d proved over and over again was the one thing he would give you without question? You’re desperate, and it wouldn’t take much, he’d have you screaming his name in less than a minute.

“Please Joel,” You beg, “Please baby.”

“What’s that?” He asks from behind, you can feel his chest lay across your back, pushing you down into the mattress, his cock still semi-hard against the cheeks of your ass, “You beggin’ for it, baby?”

“Make me come.” You demand, like a little brat.

“Awww baby,” He coos into your ear, hand coming to grip the back of your neck, “I’m such a mean man, aren’t I?” You nod your head, hoping it shakes his resolve, “Leaving you all wet and needy.” His teeth nip at your jaw, he pushes himself off you and then completely off the bed.

You turn onto your back, watching as he picks up his clothes to get dressed. Why did you ask for this? You spread your legs, finger dipping down inside your pussy, dragging out the mix of slick and his spend to drag up to your clit. It wouldn’t take very long, already so worked up and sensitive, but he catches you before you can get there, hands tearing your own away from you.

“Don’t be naughty,” Joel chastises, tugging on your wrist to get you to sit at the edge of the bed, he gets on his knees, loops your panties right over your ankles and drags them up, “Stand up,” You want to complain, but you do it anyway, hands on his shoulders to steady yourself as he drags your panties all the way up, pressing a kiss right where the waistband sits, “Be a good girl for the rest of the day and I promise I’ll make you come however you want later, okay?”

It should embarrass you how quickly you nod your head, how your voice promises him you’ll be good for him. He kisses your forehead, helps you put the rest of your clothes on, passes you the glass of water you’d forgotten about earlier.

“Come on,” He says, “Plenty more boxes to pack up.”

875 notes · View notes

irisintheafterglow · 6 months

Text

welcome back to coparenting megumi with satoru (megs' birthday edition! because it's basically winter and i wanna write more found family fluff)

you're well aware that megumi is not a normal child.

you're reminded of it on a daily basis when he tells you about the low-level curses he spotted around the corner while he and tsumiki walked home from school. you're reminded when either you or satoru immediately go to the corner where he saw the curse and exorcising every curse within a four mile radius. you're reminded when he sees a dog and immediately wants to summon his divine dogs, even though his cursed energy isn't at a level where he can activate it without being wiped out for the rest of the day. but mostly, you're reminded on his birthdays that he was not born and will never be normal. still, satoru makes it his mission to give the boy what he calls a "bangin' birthday."

the other kids in his class would have their parents bring in cupcakes or goodies on their special day; megs, however, would probably argue that the other kids aren't deserving of the sweets you brought. so, on his 7th birthday, he's in class for barely an hour before you sign him out at the front desk. his eyes stare out the back window at the passing cityscape and he sips on a smoothie you had waiting for him when he met you at the front office.

"i thought you had a mission?"

"i called in a few favors and got today off," you reply happily, smiling wider when his fingers automatically grab your pinky. as you pull into the driveway of his first surprise, the tiniest gasp of realization leaves him and you wink at him through the rearview mirror. "recognize that sound, megs?" he nods furiously, throwing off his seatbelt as soon as the car is parked with excitement you'd never seen from him before. the barking coming from the house you've pulled up to only increases in volume while he practically runs up the front path and, with no warning, two gigantic dogs burst into the front yard and into the arms of the birthday boy.

"they still know me!" he beams as the two dogs nudge his face with their foreheads, sticking their nose against his clothes and licking stray drops of smoothie. "look, they still like me!"

"i see, megs," you say with a melancholy twist in your chest. even though he was becoming better at summoning his own divine dogs, you knew he missed the ones that helped him break his mental block in the first place. like no time had passed, megumi herds the dogs back into the house and they dutifully follow. you shoot your friend a text, thanking her for letting you use her house and letting him see the dogs she adopted all those years ago. while she worked in her office upstairs, she very generously gave you the rest of the first floor to use for birthday festivities. festivities, you noticed, were much more decorated than you previously planned it to be.

while megumi slips his shoes off at the door, the dogs race over to a gigantic box in the center of the dining room, barking furiously at it like it was an intruder. it's wrapped in shimmering, bright blue paper that gives you a headache the longer you look at it and looks suspiciously large enough to hide a 6-foot-something idiot. you knew you raised megs right when he's also immediately suspicious of the package, eyeing it with distaste as if he already knew what (or who) was inside.

"i'm guessing from your face that you didn't put that there," he remarks and you shake your head in acknowledgment. "any idea what's in it?" you swear you can hear a stupid giggle from inside the cardboard and you stifle a laugh.

"don't know," you say with fake indifference. "maybe it's a present from the dogs."

"it'd probably be hard for them to wrap seeing as they don't have thumbs," he states blankly, still frowning at the obnoxious wrapping paper. "wanna just put it somewhere to get it out of the way?"

"sure," you start, an idea popping into your head and a sly grin working its way onto your face. "i guess...i'll just throw it in my domain for now-"

"surprise!" as if on cue, the top of the box breaks open to reveal your very panicked boyfriend who despised portaling into your domain. he's wearing ridiculously oversized party glasses with frames shaped like balloons and his clothes are covered in metallic confetti that sprinkles onto your friend's floors. the dogs break into another bark-fest and satoru shushes them urgently; you break into giggles and help him step out of the box. "where's my favorite birthday boy?"

"why were you in there?"

"it's called a surprise, megumi. people have them when they want to have fun," he quips and you click your tongue, picking a stray piece of confetti from his hair. he murmurs an apology under his breath, kissing your forehead like he wasn't in bed with you a few hours earlier. "hi, gorgeous."

"hey, handsome. your limbs alright after being stuck in there?"

"a little creaky, but i'll survive," he reassures you, stretching out his ridiculously lanky arms as an example. his hand gestures to the ungodly amount of streamers and balloons that were much more than you'd bought last week. "i did a little redecorating."

"i see that," you chuckle. "alright, megs. you ready for your next birthday activity?" he looks up from his spot on the floor, where he'd somehow convinced the dogs to lay on either side of him.

"there's more?"

"mhmm, and it involves some strawberries from the fridge. you wanna help me wash them?" he nods and walks over to the fridge with the dogs trailing behind him. "there should be a strainer already in the sink."

"you still think we'll be able to make it to the park?" satoru asks quietly, pulling you into his arms and watching the winter sky become more unfriendly. "i can protect us from the rain, but a storm would probably ruin the atmosphere we've got goin' here."

"i agree," you murmur. a glance at the mirror shows megumi standing on a stool in front of the sink, sneaking washed berries to the dogs. "though, i don't think he'd mind just staying here."

"i also agree. i can order some lunch and go pick it up while dessert bakes. i need to go grab tsumiki, anyway," he suggests. "she can help me pick out matching cozy sweaters for when we watch a movie."

"i think megs would rather die than wear a matching sweater with you, sweetheart."

"true," he concedes. "but i'll do that, then. need anything else while i'm out?"

"no, just for you to get back faster."

"i'll be here before you can even blink, beautiful."

"are we making me a birthday cake?" megumi calls from the kitchen, finally noticing the ingredients stacked neatly on the island counter. "and does that mean i can throw food at satoru?"

"if you can get him to turn off infinity, then sure," you reply. your boyfriend makes a face of betrayal and you stick your tongue out at him. "tell him it's for your birthday present."

"gojo, i know what i want for my birthday!"

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff

868 notes · View notes

chelseypprimrose · 11 months

Text

The Boy’s a Liar / bfd!Negan x Reader / no-apocalypse AU 🧟

Warnings: daddy kink, breeding kink, boyfriendsdad!negan, oral (female receiving) use of belt, squirting, swearing, use of degrading names, general Negan ness, voyerism, unprotected sex, reader is a little evil to her boyfriend : NOT PROOFREAD YET

Summary: Reader finds out her boyfriend cheated on her via a Snapchat story, she takes sweet revenge with her boyfriend’s hot as fuck dad.

A/N: I’ve never wrote for breeding kink before so please be kind lol 🤍 I had a lot of fun with this one!

“Fucking waste of my damn time.” You cursed yourself, boys are so stupid. You couldn’t stop watching the Snapchat story of your boyfriend’s best friend, your boyfriend so obviously kissing a woman that wasn’t you. Not a care in the world, disrespecting you and the values you held in a loyal relationship. You didn’t know it this was a common occurrence that you just hadn’t noticed or a drunken one off. Not that it mattered, it was still a betrayal of your trust.

Eyes glossy with tears, you were driving towards your boyfriend’s house that he shared with his father, Negan. You didn’t even have a speech prepared, what you were going to say, if this was the final nail in the coffin of your relationship, your mind was running at a mile a minute.

Pulling into the driveway, you turned off the engine and put your car keys into your handbag, getting out and walking with purpose to the front door, your heels slamming on the concrete floor. You knocked on the door loudly, no answer. You knocked again, your hand shaking with annoyance.

The door finally opened but it wasn’t your boyfriend who stood before you, it was Negan.

“Hey doll, what you doing here so early? I was just making breakfast if you wanted any?” He offered before he took a proper look at your face, noticing the black tears of mascara that ran softly down your face.

“I don’t know what kind of fucked up morals you’ve taught your son, Negan, but I thought you were a better man. Obviously I was wrong.” You said with spite, you were letting your feelings be known to anyone who would listen. It was just unfortunate that it was the wrong person to direct your anger towards.

Technically, Negan hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was guilty by association in your current messed up state. You just needed to vent at someone, and Negan was the closest person to your boyfriend.

“Woah, doll? What’s wrong, what’s he done?” Negan moved aside so you could come in, walking towards the kitchen, the smell of fresh bacon and egg filling your nostrils. You placed your handbag on the kitchen counter, arms crossed, your hand playing with your necklace.

“He went out last night and he kissed a girl, I saw it on his friend’s Snapchat.” You managed to get out through a small sob, your eyes filling up with tears again. You couldn’t believe you were crying like this in front of his dad, you felt embarrassed.

“Jesus Christ, I’m sorry dollface, I didn’t raise the kid to do shit like that, we are loyal to our women.” Negan sighed, his hand running through his salt and pepper beard, trying to find the words to make the pain in your heart go away. His eyes watched you as you grabbed a tissue from the box placed on the dining table, using your front phone camera as a mirror to wipe your tears away.

“You know what though, it might be a blessing in disguise.” Your head whipped around to give him a look of disbelief, in what world could this be a blessing? “What the fuck do you mean, my boyfriend cheated on me? How could that even remotely be a blessing?!” Feeling your anger building up again, Negan walked around to your side of the counter, towering over you, his head coming down to whisper in your ear. “Oh please, Y/N. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at me, remember that party a couple months ago, goddamn doll, you couldn’t take your eyes off my dick in them swim shorts.” He gave a small laugh, his hand coming up to tuck your hair behind your ear, his eyes watching your chest raise with each breath you took. “You need a real man to take care of you, I heard you with him. I’m experienced enough to know when a woman is faking it to spare a man’s feelings.” Your eyes met with his, how on earth could he tell. You couldn’t even deny it, while your boyfriend was good enough, he was too soft with you, complaining when you’d asked him to just choke you a little bit. He didn’t want to accidentally hurt you, he’d said, your eyes rolling in annoyance.

“How the fuck do you know that?” You asked, his cologne hitting you in the face as he got ever so closer to you. “Like I said doll, I know women. You want to be played with don’t you? You want someone who knows how to please you properly, give into it doll. I could give you all the pleasure you’d ever need.” You let out a soft moan, knowing this was wrong but your petty nature taking over, not only was this such an evil way to get back at him, you longed for Negan. He was right on the nose with how you looked at him, you’d always found him attractive, just trying to stop yourself from jumping his bones whenever the two of you were around each other.

“Fuck it, I’ve always wanted to know what your cock feels like, deep inside me.” You whispered out, your hands wrapping around Negan’s neck as he captured your lips in a kiss. His hands finding their way to your ass, squeezing the round globes hard.

He lifted you up, walking towards the stairs. “I’m going to have you begging for mercy when I’m finished with you doll.”

It was almost animalistic, months of repressed attraction coming to a conclusion. You’d never have even thought about your late night fantasies coming true, until this very moment that they had. Negan kicked the door to his bedroom open, not bothering to close it behind him. Placing you on the bed, his hands grabbing the bottom of his t-shirt to pull it over his head revealing his toned torso and arms, his tattoo that you loved so much coming into view.

Your hands started to feel up on his chest, wanting skin to skin contact with him so desperately. You tried to sit up a little to take your tank top off but Negan stopped you in your tracks, slamming your arms down above your own head. “Don’t you fucking dare doll, that’s my job.” A dark look coming across his face, he ripped the tank top off you hastily. His eyes glued to your bare chest, you hadn’t bothered to put a bra on today, in a sleepy haze just wanting to get over here to question your boyfriend. “Such beautiful breasts doll, he’s going to regret giving you up.” Negan stated as he took one of your erect nipples into his mouth, a soft bite as he did. You moaned out, watching his every move, his eyes locked to yours.

Leaning up, Negan unbuckled your belt sliding it out of your jean loops, grabbing your hands, wrapping the belt around your wrists as your hands were placed back above your head. The leather tight and digging into your skin, only turning you on more, heat rushing to your pussy. Negan took the time to unbutton your jeans, pulling them down your legs revealing your small black thong that left little to the imagination, pulling them to the side, Negan licked a strip starting from your opening to the top, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your boyfriend never took the time to ever focus on your pleasure, either because he couldn’t be bothered or he just didn’t care, you didn’t know.

You felt the extra wetness as Negan spat right on your pussy, bringing his fingers to slowly enter you. Starting at a slow, agonising pace he could feel your body relaxing as you let your body give in to the pleasure you were feeling. You wanted nothing more than to grip onto his hair, but your bound hands didn’t allow it. As he felt you relax, he quickened his pace up, moans leaving your lips loud and clear. “Such beautiful noises for me slut, and I know these are real.” You felt your core tightening as you kept building up wave after wave of pleasure, you’d never even realised you could get so close to orgasm so fast, Negan caught on to this and took his fingers out of you, dripping in your juices. He forced his fingers into your mouth, you sucking the wetness off like it was your last meal.

“You fucking dirty girl, you like the way you taste?” He asked, his fingers still in your mouth as he pulled his shorts down, revealing his boxers to you. “Yes, I love it so much. I need to fill me up Negan, ruin me please.” You managed to get out through heavy breathing and his fingers. He chuckled, manoeuvring your body so you were on all fours, facing the mirrored closet doors, next to the entrance of the bedroom. “I’m going to fuck you so dumb baby girl, you’ll forget your own name when I’m done with you. Going to get you drunk on my cock. You won’t even want another man to touch you.” You whimpered, seeing Negan pulling his large cock out of his boxer shorts, them falling to the ground. His tip was red, leaking with precum, standing erect. He looked like a Greek god, his posture so manly and authoritative. He lined up at your opening and wasted no time, starting at a hard and fast pace. “Oh my god, Negan yes! Fuck!” Your nails dug into your own hands, the leather of the belt still digging into you causing pain but you didn’t care, the feeling was too good to complain. Your toes curled with pleasure in your heels, Negan’s hands gripped on your hips like he was holding on for dear life. “Shit doll, you feel so fucking good, so tight for Daddy.” You eyes widened at the nickname, you’d always wanted to experiment with a daddy kink but he’d never allow it, said it made him feel weird. You couldn’t believe how much this man was filling your darkest fantasies, you felt like maybe your boyfriend cheating was a blessing in disguise after all. Negan’s hand came down to slap your ass, the motion leaving a good red mark on your cheek. You looked towards the large mirrors in front of you, seeing Negan’s body go through the motions, his hips bucking against your ass as he fucked you deep. “Yes daddy, I’m so tight for you, you feel so good inside me.”

Neither you or Negan heard the front door open, your boyfriend finally getting back from his night out, guilt filling him up as he remembered what had happened last night. He knew that what he did was wrong, that kissing that woman was wrong. Still tired and hungover, he at first thought his imagination was playing tricks on him when he heard moaning coming from upstairs, he didn’t think his dad was dating anyone, a look of confusion coming onto his face. He made his way up the stairs, looking through the open gaps of the banister, his features wrinkling in disgust and disbelief when he saw you, head thrown back in pleasure as you met Negan’s thrusts in a timed motion. He rushed up the whole flight of stairs until he got to the door.

“What the fuck is happening here?!” You heard the voice of your boyfriend, your eyes opening with a gasp, you thought Negan would stop, embarrassed that the two of you had been caught in such a way but he went even faster in and out of you, your hands trying to grab some of the blanket that was at the end of the bed, failing miserably due to the fact of your hands being bound together.

“Hey son, just treating your girl to a proper fuck, you were stupid as fuck to let this one go, she’s one dirty fucking girl! Maybe this will teach you not to go round sticking your dick in other women when you’ve got an absolute diamond at home. Now stand there and watch boy.” Negan laughed, your eyes meeting with your boyfriend, you couldn’t help with the moan that escaped your lips as Negan moved down to grab your chin, his head coming to the side of your ear. “Tell him doll, tell him how good daddy’s fucking you.” You smirked, looking out the corner of your eyes to look at Negan. “So fucking good daddy, filling me up, better than he ever could. Please keep fucking me like this daddy.” You whimpered, your lips meeting with Negan as he kept his eyes open, staring at his son.

Your boyfriend didn’t know what to do, he rushed out of the room, slamming the front door behind him as he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“That was so fucking dirty doll, oh my goodness! I can feel you getting close girl, let yourself cum all over my cock. I want to finish inside you, fill your body with my baby.” You screamed out as your orgasm took over your body, black spots coming into your vision. Your pussy felt like it had a death grip on Negan’s cock, his thrusts coming to slower pace as he let you ride out your orgasm. “Pull out of me, I want to ride you daddy.” Negan didn’t need any more encouragement as he pulled out of you, lying down on his back as you dug your heels into the mattress, sat on top of him. “Be careful with those things, don’t want a hole in my mattress dollface. You look fucking good in them though, sexy as fuck.” He said, as he shoved his cock into your dripping hole. You bounced up and down, even with your orgasm taking energy out of you, you couldn’t stop, you needed Negan like a hardcore drug. His musk mixing with a light sheen of sweat over your bodies. Negan’s hands gripped your ass as he directed your body as you grind into his hips, your second orgasm building up in your core. His cock filling you up, “That’s it baby, bounce on daddy’s cock for me, I want to see my seed dripping out of you.” You quickened your pace, feeling Negan’s cock twitching in you. “That’s it daddy, fill me up with your seed, I want you to fill my pussy up daddy!” You screamed out, uncaring about neighbours being able to hear you, you were too cock-drunk to care. Negan growled, his seed spurting out in you, his hands gripped your hips like a vice, his breathing heavy. You came to your end as well, gushing all over his cock, wetting the bed below you and Negan’s stomach as you squirted for the first time ever in your life. You moaned louder than ever, falling to the side of Negan, his flaccid cock sitting on top of his torso. You both were spent, the only thing that could be heard in the room was heavy breathing. Negan got up slowly from the bed, he released you from the belt, your wrists red and sore. He grabbed a small towel from the on-suite bathroom, cleaning you up from your squirt wetness. He laid back next to you, his arm coming over you to pull you closer, a sloppy kiss on your lips. “Life is never going to be the same again after this doll. Shit, I know it’s wrong to ask but leave him, I’ll treat you better than that stupid boy.” You looked at him, a smile coming across your face. “Negan, you could ask me to do anything right now and I’d say yes, that was the best fuck of my life, Daddy.”

Negan laughed and slapped your ass as he caught you in another sensual kiss.

2K notes · View notes

xentualzzz · 10 months

Text

late night shopping

pairing: E42!Miles Morales x Fem!Reader

summary: you forced Miles to go to target with you at 2:00 am.

warnings: light cursing, use of mami and papi but not in a weird way, miles is aged up to 19 and the reader is 18.

miles: purple

you: pink

a/n: this is my first post so please don't judge! also, give me feedback on what you think about it.

a/n: if you want a part 2 and you want to be tagged, comment.

(part 2 is up)

_______________________________________________

You were staying the night at Miles' apartment because he didn't want you to leave.

You and Miles were cuddling in the sweethearts cradle position.

His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, your left hand on his chest tracing his pectorals and his abs, your left leg over his right, you loved being so close to him.

He was always so warm.

You woke up around 2am to Miles softly snoring.

Admiring his features as the moon illuminated his face, tracing his jawline, moving his braids off his shoulder.

'why is this man so fine?'

Anyways, you moved his hand off your shoulder and grabbed your phone.

You tapped the screen to see the time was 2:13 am.

You didn't really care about the time, you were used to waking up so early.

You scrolled through your notification center and saw that Target is having a sale on fairy lights.

'yes! finally!'

You went to the app and saw they only had one box of lights left.

'oh shit. I NEED to get these right now.'

You put your phone back down and turned around towards Miles to see him still sleeping with his back facing you.

You put your hand on his shoulder.

"Miles."

"Babe."

"Morales."

You sighed, he still didn't wake up yet.

You put you hands on his shoulder and hip and got really close to his face.

"Papi." while shaking him.

Miles turned his head towards you but not his body.

"Hm. Yes Mami?"

'oh my gosh that morning voice, and those eyes.'

Miles smirked at you.

He knew exactly what were you were thinking.

"Mami. You good?"

He flipped over towards you.

You let go of him.

"my bad, yea i'm good."

"Can we go to Target?? Pleaseeee?"

"Are you being serious?"

"Yes. Remember how I told you i've always wanted to decorate my room with fairy lights?"

"Mhm."

"There's only one more box left at Target. Please amor I'm BEGGING you to take me."

"Mami. It's like 1 or 2am in the morning. "

"I'm not going all the way to Target."

He flipped back over with his back facing you.

You put your hands on his hip and shoulder again.

"But I really want to get the last boxxx." you whined.

"And you know what I want?"

You tilted your head.

"Sleep."

"Please?"

"No."

You and Miles were walking out of Target with a bag in your hand.

"Thank you so much Miles."

Miles yawned.

"I'm still tired as hell so you owe me."

"Don't worry. When we get back to your apartment I have to something to show you."

You gave him a seductive smile as you two stepped into Miles' car.

"Oh? What is it Mami?"

Miles grinned back at you.

"I'll show you tomorrow night."

a/n: i really hope you guys liked this!

part 2 is below

edited

#earth 42 miles morales x reader #e!42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles x reader #spiderverse x reader #earth42!miles #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x you #miles morales x you #prowler miles #miles morales prowler #atsv miles #astv #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 #across the spiderverse #itsv #spiderman across the spiderverse

1K notes · View notes

gaypirate420 · 5 months

Text

Happy birthday// Jasper W. Hale.

Jasper Whitlock-Hale x gn!reader.

Request: can I get a jasper wishin' me happy birthday? 🥺 Like Jas x gen. neut. reader. lots of cuddling falling asleep in his arms feelin' safe & protected from an abusive dad.

A/N: I really tried to put a lot of comfort in this one. I hope everything it's okay, anon! I got carried away with this request.

Tw: Abuse.

Throwing your body into your bed, you buried yourself with your blankets, creating a safe fort with your pillows, stuff animals and the most cozy blanket you have.

Your hands shake, eyes welling up with tears.

Your father keeps screaming from downstairs, always getting mad at the tiniest mistake from your part.

Now your head hurts from the hair pulling and your face has another bruise.

You sob quietly against your pillow and cover your ears with your headphones.

He doesn't shut up, his voice leaking through the music. Why doesn't he shut up!?

SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP. SHUT UP.

You gasp for air, your body starts shaking when you hear his heavy footsteps approaching your door.

You hold your breath as you see his shadow pass.

A huge sigh of relief leaves your lips as he passed your bedroom and didn't bang at the door or try to force it open.

Jasper made his way to your home. A grin on his face as he holds two boxes with a shiny paperwrap in your favorite color.

Your boyfriend didn't have the chance to visit your earlier for your birthday, he sighs as he remembers that only because of his "brother" his plans for today were ruined.

But he's hoping there's still time to do something nice, maybe a nice walk through the woods at night. He makes his way into your room. Climbing up the window and open it.

You don't notice his precense yet, your eyes are wide awake and teary as you watch your comfort show with headphones on.

Someone uncovers you.

You see a pair of golden eyes looking at you.

Then a frown crosses his face.

"Darlin'?" He asks softly. Your wide eyes look up at him, your pretty face bruised and your hands shaking.

"Hi, cowboy." You smiled and try your best to sound happy and cheerful, as if that will distract him from the obvious bruise on your face.

"What are you doing here, Jazz?" You ask softly, your eyes find the two boxes he left on your nightstand, that make him frown more.

The blonde sits at the edge of the bed, his pale hand reaching for your face, he feels his blood boil when you flinch, he's mad you can see it but it's not at you, never at you.

"I...I brought you your gifts, darlin'." He whispers very softly and his finger gently strokes your cheek. It's takes you a couple of seconds but you lean on his touch.

"...today it's my birthday?" You ask in a whisper, that makes his heart break into a million pieces.

"Who did this to you, sugar?" He asked softly, golden eyes meeting yours, but there was something on his tone that was more demanding.

"....dad." You whisper, you felt like a child again, telling someone your father did something bad to you.

Your lips tremble and the welled up tears on your eyes fall down your cheeks the moment his arms wrapped around your trembling body. His strong arms holding you close.

Jasper wants to ask. He wants to know. He needs to know what happened. He knows your father isn't very gentle but he never thought of this.

He wants to know why you didn't tell him anything. Since minute one he'll have you out of your home, miles away from your father, safe and sound with him.

But your sobs makes him change his attention back to you.

His lips leave a tender kiss on your forehead, his thumb tracing circles on your back. His finger are cold but make you feel so warm. You sit there, feeling safe inside your own house for the first time in years. With Jasper here nothing could touch you.

You can breath.

In.

Holding the scent of Jasper.

Out.

Repeat.

Your teary eyes look up at his golden eyes.

"....I want to see the gifts, p-please." You speak in a soft and innocent voice, almost ashamed of asking for them in this moment, but you're too curious now and you don't want to think about anything that happened today. Jasper smirks, he sits you on his lap, you felt very light when he did that.

The vampire takes the first box, it's small and it fits on his hand.

"There you go, sugar." Jasper whispers gently, your face finally has a small smile on it. You take the small gift and open it.

"It's a cupcake." You smiled softly. Jasper nodded and took the small candle that came with the cupcake, burying it on the icing. Your smile widen with every movement he did.

He could feel them, your emotions, you're still scared and anxious but they're getting replaced by happiness very slowly. He light up the candle and lean over to whisper on your ear.

"Happy birthday to you." He began to sing softly, his voice very harmonious, his accent peeking through.

A couple of tears fall down your cheeks but this one's are happy ones, you're so happy Jasper is here. Holding you. Keeping you safe.

If your father walks through that door...

You don't want to think about Jasper hurting your father or even kill him.

But.

Could he- would he?

Do you want him to?

Well if you think about it— you shake your head from those dark thoughts and enjoy his soft singing. Jasper kisses your cheek, his cold lips leaving small kisses that make you tingle. Murmuring a happy birthday and how much he loves you.

"Make a wish, darlin'." He whispers as he holds the cupcake close. You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You think about your wish for a couple of seconds and blow out the candle.

You bite a part of the cupcake, your lips and the tip of nose stained with icing. You giggle and look at Jasper, you kiss his lips to stain him too. The blonde chuckles, you lean over to fetch the camera he gifted you last year.

You turn it on and scoop even closer to Jasper, he holds your hips in place. You point the camera at you and him, it's always tricky to get him fit on the photo with the height difference between you two.

You smile, he smirks and you take a couple of pictures. He bares his fangs in one, making you giggle.

The blonde kisses your cheek once more and grabs the bigger box for you. You shake it gently, it's not heavy but it's something big. You look up at Jasper with a smile on your face, he can feel your excitement.

You undo the wrap paper in a very gentle manner, you want to keep it as a memory, like last year's. Jasper smiles at your fingers grabbing the wrap paper with such delicacy.

It's a plushie. A very big and cuddly bunny. Jasper sees you hug it tightly and nuzzling with it. It seemed to pass your requirements. Before you can tell him you love it you hear something.

Footsteps. Heavy boots against the wooden floor of your home. Your father it's shouting your name, angry. Over and over again. Screaming his lungs out, demanding you to come downstairs.

Your body starts trembling once more. Gasping for air again, your eyes are locked on the door. You hold on the plushie tightly and use Jasper as a shield.

Jasper takes a protective hold of you, guarding you with his arms, his eyes pitch black. You can feel this change in attitude in him, his fangs bare and this rumbling sound, almost an animalistic growl leaves his lips.

The shadow of your father's feet stop infront of your bedroom door.

Jasper growls.

His eyebrows furrow.

He's waiting.

Waiting for your father to dare and open that door. Waiting to attack him, to lounge at him.

Yet, his hands are soft on your body, stroking your skin in a very comfortable manner, you hide your face on his chest, soaking his sweater with your silent tears. His pale fingers stroke your hair, you flinch again but notice his touch is gentle, it feels good, soothing.

But your father leaves. Like a magical change in attitude, thanks to Jasper and his gift.

"It's alright, darlin'." He whispers and kisses your forehead. His thumb wipes your tears away, you lean on his touch and let all those tears you been holding up for so many years to fall down.

Jasper caresses your cheek, he planted soft kisses on your face, his cold lips makes you feel a little tingle. He doesn't want to let go of you now.

"I won't let anyone hurt you again." He whispers with such conviction. You believe him.

You take deep breaths, the plushie it's squeezed by your arms.

You rest your head on his shoulder, his soft sweater against your cheek. Jasper covers you with a blanket, another kiss on your forehead, today they feel more special than before, healing you.

Jasper strokes your hair, a soft yawn left your lips, you snuggle against him, the plushie in between your body and his.

Another yawn and a following sniff, his fingers on your hair just feel so good, the blanket, the way he's holding you like you are the most important thing in the world. Kisses here and there on your forehead. It's so perfect. It makes you want to cry again.

You close your eyes.

Jasper's got you. You're safe with him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hey, hope y'all like this, I hope I did it right. Requests are still open.

#jasper hale #jasper hale x reader #jasper whitlock #jasper whitlock hale #x male reader #jasper hale x y/n #jasper hale x you #twilight x reader #twilight x y/n

444 notes · View notes

itadorey · 7 months

Text

☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆[𝟒:𝟑𝟐 𝐩.𝐦.] 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐆𝐔𝐌𝐈

notes: fluff, ~700 words, valentine's day, gn reader

megumi blinks slowly as he stares at the object being held out in front of him.

it's cute, he thinks as he studies the small bag quietly. it's decorated with pink and red hearts, containing what seems to be chocolates that vaguely resemble his shikigami.

"don't read into it too much," nobara snaps, placing a hand on her hip and tapping her foot impatiently when she notices that megumi makes no move to grab them. she sighs loudly as she shoves them towards him, forcing him to take them before she lets them drop to the ground. "they're gratitude chocolates."

"clearly," he responds, opening the bag and grabbing one of the treats. he hums his thanks as he savors the candy, pausing only to tilt his head as a curious look makes it's way onto his face. "what are they for?"

"seriously?" nobara hisses, her eye twitching slightly at his cluelessness. "they're for valentine's day, fushiguro! we made bags of chocolate for everyone."

"we?" megumi asks, his eyes widening briefly at nobara's words. he stealthily slips his phone out of his pocket to check the date, silently wondering when the hell it became february. he nods his head as he puts his phone away, silently thanking nobara for the chocolates and receiving a sigh in return.

"stay here, okay?" she says, tilting her head to the side as she walks away from him. "someone else has been looking for you all day."

a slight blush paints megumi's cheeks when he looks in the direction she motioned to, only for it to fade when he notices you and yuuji standing a few meters away. you're smiling softly as you hand the pink-haired boy a white box, causing him to smile widely before picking you up and spinning you around. megumi can't help the way his heart drops at the sight, and he finds himself wondering if nobara had mentioned anything about you giving out boxes of chocolate.

he forces a tiny smile onto his face when you suddenly look over to meet his gaze, waving excitedly before motioning for him to stay put. you turn back to say something to yuuji, looking down bashfully as he says something back and glances towards megumi.

it's only a matter of seconds before you're standing in front of him, your breath catching in your throat as you study him quietly. he's so unfairly pretty, and you force yourself to hold out the item in your hands before you can chicken out.

"happy valentine's day, megumi!" you say, a large smile on your face as you wait for him to react. he's silent as he observes you, your finger shaking slightly as you do your best to look anywhere but his eyes. his heart nearly skips a beat when he realizes that you're holding out a box similar to the one you had given yuuji, the difference being that the one in front of him is covered with doodles drawn in the sparkly, pink ink of the pen he knows you're fond of.

a smile spreads across his face as he studies the doodles, taking note of the fact that they seem to depict scenes from your adventures together. it's just you and him visible in the glittery drawings, no sign of yuuji or nobara present on the box currently being held up to his chest. you sigh shakily as his hands cover yours, and you stumble forward slightly as he pulls the box towards him. there's a slight shake of your head as you frown at your own nervousness, but you freeze when you notice the soft look in megumi's eyes as he looks at you.

"i hope you can accept my gift," you finally whisper, your heart pounding as you wait for his response. the real meaning of your words is left unsaid, but both of you know that you're not just simply talking about the chocolates.

megumi can't help the soft chuckle that leaves his lips at your sudden bashfulness, his mind racing a mile a minute as he begins to think abut what he can give you in return on white day. you feel your cheeks heat up when one of his hands takes the box from you, his other hand grabbing onto one of yours and intertwining your fingers together.

"of course i will."

rbs are appreciated <3 ty for reading!!

#megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #fushiguro megumi x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #jjk imagine #megumi imagine #fushiguro imagine #fushiguro megumi imagine #megumi fushiguro imagine #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #fushiguro fluff #jujutsu kaisen imagines #megumi imagines

863 notes · View notes

onyourhyuck · 10 months

Text

Bad Habits. | H.RJ

— Prologue: “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

— Summary: Your boyfriend Renjun offered to blow dry your wet hair, what could go wrong?

— Genre: Smut. Smut. Smut. Boyfriend!Renjun. Kind of cute. Renjun has an obsession to kiss y/n’s neck. Blowdrying hair. Protected sex. Renjun’s love for y/n’s chest. Teasing. Soft mild choking. Fingering receiving (f) Consensual. many many climaxes. Nickname used ‘Baby’ a lot.

— Notes: I might be in my renjun smut era rn.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You let the hot water run down your back all the way from your short thick hair. You enjoy the warmth and the steam building in the bathroom. It’s always nice to come home and have a relaxing evening showering especially after such a stressful day at work. Your boyfriend, Renjun, prepared the shower for you actually. He let it ran so you can have the hot water running. He even got the towel and clothes ready and then he left to let you have your own privacy and time to shower properly. Renjun loves to do a lot of things for you even though you don’t ask him to do anything he just ends up doing it for you anyways.

You tend to appreciate these small gestures the most whenever you’re feeling drained and tired. You don’t really like to show or express that you’re having a hard time. So when your boyfriend can sense your feelings through your moods you find it easier to show you’re struggling.

Your job can be very time consuming which then puts a slight strain on your relationship with Renjun. He wants to do many things with you but your job tends to prevent that. You’re a very dedicated worker to your job.

You may love your job but sometimes it can be hard to keep up with it. Even if it is just paperwork. It’s still a lot to do even if people assume at first thay papers aren’t that much of a hard thing to do. It’s more or less time consuming.

Either way you’re home now and you don’t want to think about work anymore so you finish your shower and head out with the towel wrapped around you. You would change in the bedroom. You take your time applying body lotion and then your own skin care routine on your face. You need to moisturise your skin with the products you bought. Once the pyjamas embrace your beautiful curvy figure you sat down on the bed looking in the mirror. You feel refreshed from the shower. Renjun really was right it did help you feel better. As if the weight was lifted off your chest.

The bedroom door opens with Renjun peeking in a little and when he saw you and your damp hair he tilts his head a little. “You still haven’t blow dry your hair Y/n. You’ll get sick if you leave it like this.” You heard him say with a small nagging voice but you didn’t mind it.

You knew he cared for your well-being slightly more than you do for yourself. You gently roll your eyes. “I’ll get on it now then.” You stand up to get the box out with the hairdryer however a hand stops you from moving any further from the bed.

Renjun shakes his head. “I’ll do it for you.” He then said getting the box out putting it next to you on your bed and you look up with a little smile. He really doesn’t want you to work too much at home knowing you’re tired. “Can i blow dry your hair for you?”

Now he was asking you with something glistening behind his eyes and you’re not sure what that was. It almost resembles a fallen star in his eyes that you saw glisten away. Your expression of surprise makes Renjun feel like his words took you to another level of comfort and happiness when he asked if he could blow dry your hair for you. It’s like you didn’t expect him to go the extra mile for you. Renjun would do anything if it can mean you didn’t have to do anything. Heck. He would do everything and you can just be taken care of like the princess you are. Renjun wouldn’t want it any other way for you.

You take a while to figure out what to say but you reckon you can just give him a nod and he would take it as a yes. “Sure you can.” You say with a small shy smile. You never really had anyone drying your hair for you so this might be an experience you think. Renjun saw your permission and his face lit up.

It’s like he’s been waiting to do this for you before. Renjun plugs everything in. The blow dry device powers up and Renjun softly runs his hands through your wet short damp hair. He enjoys to run his hand through it because of how silky and thick it feels when it’s dry. But when it’s wet it’s a clump that he still find’s beautiful. Every inch of you feels responsible for the way his love grows for you even more. Renjun was only bewitched when the cold wet hair slides down the fingers as he starts to now turn on the hairdryer. The hot air blows your hair in different directions, his hands slid up to your roots and down the edges of your strands.

Your eyes close in the pleasant breeze that feels like a valley passing in your mind. The sensation of someone else stirring the arms rotating around the hot air to your damp hair as their fingers slip like growing spring around your scalp makes you feel some type of way; relaxation? Maybe. Perhaps it was the fact that you feel like you are being treated with care. The way your boyfriend’s wrist was so gently when it moved and pushed your hair aside to get every part of your hair to dry up and not be wet from your shower.

It felt too good. You never thought a simple thing like this could make you feel even more at home than you already were feeling like.

Renjun might be your home. Maybe he makes home feel like home to you now.

Your boyfriend smiles when he saw your smiling expression as your eyes were closed shut enjoying how his hands feel around your scalp trying to massage every area so they can dry up. He doesn’t want you to go to bed with damp hair at all. It’s not the most comfortable thing either. Nor is it healthy. Renjun’s smile mimics yours and he cannot help but watch and observe you. He takes every chance to admire you no matter what even when you’re not looking at him, that’s when Renjun takes his opportunity the most.

The eyes fell down like a marble stone falling on the ground between two drainages pipes when he saw the sight of your beautiful glowing neck. In his eyes he feels like this was his favourite part of you. Your neck. Renjun might have a slight admiration for it to the point it might be like he has a massive crush on it. Not because of how beautiful it looks. It’s because he knows how much it gets you going with a rollercoaster of emotions.

The most simplest of touches he could do to your neck would feel like he had you pinned against a brick wall. That’s how much you react whenever your neck comes into contact with something.

Renjun love it though. He can smell your hair and your body lotion you applied from your neckline. He was very close and it makes his heartbeat a little knowing you’re relaxing right now and he’s here trying to not get any urges and thoughts right there and then.

You look too irresistible to not be kissed though. Renjun eventually said screw it in his head and when your hair was a little more dry now, his lips found a way around the back of your nape and placing a small kiss on it. The small kiss was very soft and noticeable. It feels like lavender sprouting from the roots.

Then the kiss on the nape turns into more kisses on the sides of your neckline and then eventually spreading even more across your neck to the front which had your heart skipping a beat from the first pointer kiss he did.

Your voice came out a little better though slight hitch to the tone which your boyfriend took heard notice of. “Renjun…?”

It was a mixture of confusion and surprise. Renjun kissed now a little more deeply but still keeping the relaxed vibe you guys are in. The whole bedroom had a very chill atmosphere and he wasn’t doing anything too much to scare you off. He knows you’re tired. Renjun can feel it on your body muscles. They’re finally relaxed and no longer tense, he wouldn’t want to do anything else than to have you feel loved in the moment.

All Renjun was thinking about was how pretty you sound when he continued to kiss you. He travels up kissing your jawline as he’s still sitting behind you with the warm hairdryer on his lap attached to the nearby plug on the wall next to your bed that you both are on.

He whispers to your ear as he gently and lovingly placed a kiss on it too. “You have no idea, how long I’ve been wanting to do this.”

Your boyfriend drag alongside your neck his lips whispering series of sweet nothings. The sequences had you rolling your tongue at the top of your mouth roof when he pressed another sweet and peppering kiss on your smooth skin. “To kiss and to be close to you like this… I’ve missed you.”

Your body betrays you quickly knowing it was your boyfriend making you feel this way, so out of breath as if you ran for miles upon miles. It was one of those things that your body could never get used to. Renjun’s kisses, words, the way he spoke to you with the tone of his voice. It’s too much you found yourself loving it all too well.

You found yourself giving in too quickly than you’d like to imagine. It wasn’t long till Renjun’s lips kissed the corner of your lips which then made you fully engulf yourself in kissing him back now. You closed your eyes and breathed in as he lets out a sigh practically groaning now that you kissed him. It felt so foreign to him nowadays. It’s been too long than he’d like to admit since he kissed you like this. You pull yourself around and Renjun’s hands slither round your waist dragging you across the bed as you let him pull you down on your back, the kiss never once breaking away.

It’s been too long because you swore you neglected him to the point he didn’t give you a single break from the kiss. It was too long that it had your face feeling like you might melt like magma. Or until the point you’re seeing stars written on the ceiling. Renjun nibbles quietly on your bottom lip while finally he pulls to give you a fresh new look on his face as he saw your eyes closing to regain back your view. You were too close to nearly passing out from the lack of oxygen he stole from you.

But he pulls at the right minute to keep you asking for more. To keep you guessing for more. Renjun lowers himself down just above your chest as he kissed your cheek now beginning to ask you. “Baby do you think i have to stretch you out? It’s been too long since we did it.” He lets his eyes practically eat you alive when he’s watching your body like this. You let out a soft groan, his hands run down your spine and under your shirt ready to strip it away from your wonderful figure.

Renjun’s bad habit is definitely not being able to be patient enough for you. When he wants something he needs it immediately. You’re one of those things that Renjun cannot be patient for enough because he wants to experience it with you. And let you experience him as much as possible too. This might be the result of his feelings for you however, they’re far too intense you can barely stand in front of him.

You groan in reply. “Maybe stretch me out with your fingers.” Your hands slip off your lower pyjamas and Renjun took the host pleasure to position his finger around your straps to the panties and slid them down to your ankles. He smiles looking down at your pussy region as he strums his thumb on your clit before pushing in the index finger now. He saw you bite your bottom lip already and Renjun can feel how tight you are. He definitely needed to stretch you out. It felt too much already that you feel like consuming all of Renjun’s pleasure. Renjun didn’t stop until he at least give you one orgasm by his fingers. He never continues and puts you above himself too.

Even though he is very impatient he’s never impatient when it comes to putting you first above his own pleasure and needs.

You felt your eyes clench around the ceiling above as you’re feeling the pleasure reach to your own bones. It pulses you to leak and now your own high washed over you. Renjun was satisfied to hear you moaning his name and practically plead him to already take you. He whispers reaching with his face to kiss your own mouth again. “You did so well for me, baby.”

You’re so weak to him and his praise.

Your boyfriend slips himself inside your folds and your heat once he put on the condom wrapping around his shaft that pumps inside and outside of your velvety bars has him feeling like he was on cloud nine. Your expression was scrunching up as you reach enlightenment with your boyfriend thrusting inside and outside of you in such graceful ways. Renjun’s pelvis reaches your inner thighs as he grabs around your waist wrapping his arms on your back as he pulls you closer to the lavishing light he caused your body to feel. This feeling couldn’t be described in words just like how Renjun cannot describe such a perfect girl like you beneath him getting her hole fixed with his cock deep inside you looking so incredibly beautiful.

How can anyone compare to you? No one can.

Renjun vows you’re going to get him hooked more and more. Your folds squeezing and squelch which has his eyes roll and your boyfriend slips out a groan between your perky breasts as he licks round his tongue teasingly around the very top. “Do you feel good baby? Is this what you needed after a long day of work?” He spoke so kindly though his body wasn’t matching it. Your body was squished between his ruthless thrusts.

You neglected him for too long because you can feel this was almost like his way of releasing all the pent up frustrations.

You bury your head further into your pillow as your spine arches like a bridge. Renjun loves when you do this between his fast and jabbing thrusts. It feels like you were feeling everything tan times more intensely. Your lips fell apart like ice. “S-So good… oh please don’t stop.” You now plead.

You’re not sure why you’re pleading because your boyfriend wasn’t planning to stop anyways.

You must’ve been seeing stars when your many orgasms has been approaching. Perhaps you already came too many times you didn’t even realise it. It was so good that Renjun must’ve had your hole screaming at him to slow down but he couldn’t as he was taking everything in too fast with his brain.

Your hands clench in a balling fist and your toes curl when Renjun whispers to your ears. “You know this is your fault I’m acting like this.” Your eyes widen when he told you it’s your reasoning for all of this happening and you wanted to speak, but the many moans you swallowed came out.

He trails down the kisses from the forehead and down your temples. “You wanna know why? Because you’re my Bad Habit.”

Your neck was looking too good from the angle he was in pushing inside of you deeply where he knew you had limitless space. His hands sweep their way in holding and caressing your neck as he continues to thrust within your pussy that you find yourself getting addicted to how his cock was making you feel; utterly weak and high.

You are the very bad habit he has. Renjun cannot do anything without you anymore and it’s all because of you making it hard not to fall in love with you even more.

He blames you for this, he cannot get enough now. It was like a trap all along and Renjun was your fallen victim. You clench around his shaft as he said this. He reminds you how deep his love is for you and your eyes dilate when you feel his member twitch deeply within your folds.

Through the condom fabric you sense a filling packet now and you just knew he had a sudden climax when Renjun hung his head between your shoulders. He took a moment to final thrust within you and his voice was breaking like a broken tape on record player.

He grunts and you feel his hands tighten around the embrace has you inside as if you were his precious jewel.

“Fuck fuck fuck…” You heard your boyfriend say quietly as the voice was trembling by how good you consumed him all.

You feel Renjun letting out a deeply mournful sigh full of enchanting pleasure when he pulls out off you with the condom. You watch him wrap it up and he looks back at you finding your gaze to be watery and dilated pupils, it makes you look like a princess in his eyes though.

He could tell he did a good job pleasuring you and it makes him proud. And your beauty never leaves no matter what state you’re in.

You whisper. “I’m your bad habit?” You let out a little giggle though because you find yourself liking that you’re his bad habit in a way.

Renjun grins leaning down. “Mhm that you are.” You watch him hover above your figure now as you guys were resting now with your steady heartbeats returning to their normal pace. He looks down at your kissable lips and so he lowers down only a little to give it a peck. You hear him speak as he did this. “You’re all my Bad Habits.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu! Reblog this Fic and Follow me for more it helps a girl out. <3

871 notes · View notes

finntheehumaneater · 4 months

Text

I owe you a black eye and two kisses (part four)

(Part one) (part five)

playlist | pinboard

Steve pulled Robin’s Madonna shirt back over his head, running a hand sideways through his hair, but it just flopped back over. His sneakers were still bloody, the laces stained. He hadn’t slept anymore after what happened outside with Eddie. His lungs still burned. His lips still ached.

He tied the laces of his sneakers, sitting down next to the door to the trailer, ignoring the way his hands shook. Wayne was sitting on the picnic table, watching Eddie struggle to drag the mattress out of the back of his van. Steve would have helped him, but when he had asked Eddie had snapped at him, saying that Steve didn’t need to show off and make him look bad.

Steve sat down next to Wayne, watching as Eddie fell flat on his ass in the grass, pressing his face into his hands. Wayne smiled slightly, a look of sympathy on his face, and Steve looked back to Eddie.

“Kid’s too proud for his own good,” Wayne muttered, nothing but fondness in his voice as he grabbed a cigarette from his pocket. Steve hated the way his cheeks flushed when he saw it. Wayne must have caught him staring, because he held it out to Steve, an eyebrow raised in question, and Steve shook his head quickly, trying to give him a polite smile. It came out more strained than he would have hoped.

After watching Eddie trip again, the mattress barely moving, Steve got up, his sneakers crunching on the rocks in the dirt beneath him. He ignored Eddie’s quiet noise of protest as he stepped next to him, grabbing the end of the mattress and turning it sideways up on himself. His arms hurt. He pulled it out and then leaned it against himself, loving the way that Eddie’s cheeks turned bright red, his eyebrows furrowed. “Where are we putting this?”

“Fuck you, Harrington,” Eddie bit out, pushing into Steve’s shoulder as he passed, the door of the trailer slamming shut. Steve’s shoulders dropped slightly, and he flinched slightly when he felt Wayne’s hand on his shoulder.

“S’okay, son,” Wayne said quietly, the cigarette pinched between his teeth, sticking out the side of his mouth. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Steve still felt like he had. Normally people didn’t get mad at him when he helped out—they thanked him and then moved on. And honestly? Steve wasn’t expecting a ‘thank you’ for Eddie. He would’ve been fine without them. He didn’t help just to be thanked anymore, that’s not who he was. “I was just trying to help,” Steve whispered, eyes glued to the screen door of the trailer. Eddie had closed the wooden one, too.

“He was trying to impress you, I think,” Wayne said thoughtfully, squeezing Steve’s shoulder lightly before letting go. “Say—you wanna run an errand with me? You seem good at lifting things.”

Steve froze slightly, perking up a bit. He would do anything if it meant having to go over to Dustin’s right about now. Because all Dustin would do was scold him for being reckless and going somewhere without telling him. “Yeah. Yeah, sure.”

“Great,” Wayne muttered, giving Steve a small smile before motioning for him to follow him inside. Steve did, and it felt good to be in the cooler trailer, even if it was only cooler by a small amount. The air conditioning didn’t really work there, he had learned, which is why the wooden door behind the screen one was usually kept open.

Wayne led Steve to the closet near the small kitchen area and opened it, pointing to a couple boxes on the top shelf. They were all labeled Antoinette. Steve wanted to ask who that was, but Wayne had a sad look in his eyes as he stared at the boxes. So Steve kept quiet and grabbed the boxes down, stacking them gently on top of each other.

“Takin’ these to the Antique store ‘couple miles from here,” Wayne explained, tearing his eyes away from the boxes. He scrubbed at his face for a moment and sighed, taking a drag of his cigarette and shaking his head when he breathed out. “You can load ‘em into my trunk.”

Steve picked the top box up. It wasn’t really heavy. Wayne could have easily carried it. But Steve got why he was being invited—this was too much of a personal thing for Wayne to do alone. And if this was making Wayne emotional, then Steve didn’t think Eddie would want any part in this. Still, he felt weird as he took the boxes to Wayne’s car. He didn’t even know this woman—and he was assuming this was her stuff that they were selling—and yet he was being trusted with her belongings.

When Wayne went back inside, probably to grab the last box, Steve opened the box he had just set in the trunk. There was a dress in there—white and pretty and expensive looking. Old, too. It was fraying at the hems and there were a few light stains on it, but other than that it was beautiful. And to Steve, the disrepair made it even more beautiful. He lifted it up, and pressed between that and an old looking bible was a small porcelain bird—yellow-ish orange, green designs that looked like leaves wrapping around the wings, two little black dots for eyes. It was only an inch or two big, Steve thought.

He picked it up, turning it over in his hands. It was pretty, too. Kind of shining in the sun.

“Like that?” Wayne asked quietly, and Steve startled, his grip tightening on the dove statue. His cheeks went pink and he felt horrible. He stuffed it back into the box, placing the dress down and closing the cardboard flaps back down.

“I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude—“ He stuttered out, but Wayne silenced him with a slight shake of his head.

“S’alright. M’not mad. You like it?”

Steve nodded, wringing his hands together. His palms were warm. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s from Georgia,” Wayne said, his voice oddly soft to be talking about a small porcelain bird. “It was her’s. Antoinette.”

He patted his hand against Steve’s thigh once and Steve stepped aside, letting Wayne reopen the box, a slight tremor to his hands as he picked up the dress and handed it to Steve, lifting up the dove.

Wayne’s hands were shaking so much, now, that Steve thought he might drop the bird, so Steve gently took a hold of Wayne’s wrist, steadying his hand. “Who was she? Antoinette?”

“Someone special,” Was all Wayne answered as he pressed the dove into Steve’s hand, wiping his eyes. “Keep it.”

“I can’t—“

“Please, son. I couldn’t bear the thought of this goin’ to someone I don’t trust.” Wayne begged quietly, and Steve nodded, gently stuffing the bird into his pocket. His eyes were watering, and he didn’t even know why.

“I’ll keep it safe,” he promised, letting go of Wayne’s wrist.

Wayne nodded. “You’re a good kid.”

The ride to the antique shop was short, but it made the world feel even hotter when they stepped outside. Steve helped Wayne unload the boxes, and then was told to wait, while Wayne went to go find “Sunny”.

So Steve sat in the back of Wayne’s open trunk, his feet dangling off the edge, toeing at the dirt with his bloody sneakers. Until there was another pair of shoes in front of him. Yellow converse. Steve startled slightly when he looked up, seeing a girl around his age right in front of him. She had dark brown skin with some pale patches spotting over her hands and arms—one over the bridge of her nose— freckles dotted over her face, and long brown hair that fell in braids down her back. Her eyes were fixed on Steve’s lips, and his tongue darted out to run across them nervously.

“Hi,” he said quietly, gripping the edge of the trunk as he leaned into it slightly, trying to put some distance between the two of them.

“Hi,” she said back, and Steve noticed that her voice sounded a bit off. It wasn’t really noticeable, but there was a slight strain to it, and it took her a moment to respond, almost like she had to remember how to say it.

She had a skirt that fell to her knees, and it was orange—almost the same color as the bird in Steve’s pocket. Her tank top was yellow, to match her sneakers, which had dirt scuffs on the sides.

She waved slight to get Steve’s attention, and then pointed to the boxes, before making a fist—her thumb sticking up—and placing it on top of the palm of her other hand. She moved her flat hand up, giving him a pointed look.

Steve frowned, tiling his head slightly. “I’m sorry?”

“Help,” she explained, pointing to the boxes again. “With the boxes, I mean.”

Steve nodded, giving her a moment to grab one of the boxes, before picking one up himself. The girl had three stacked on top of each other, carrying them inside—which left Steve to carry the last three. He took two trips, because he didn’t want to drop any.

The outside of the building was small and wooden—kind of in the middle of nowhere, with mostly patchy grass and dirt surrounding it—but it looked bigger on the outside. It was full of shelves covered in other people’s things, some of them looking ancient. There was a box of rings on the counter, and a small gold one caught his attention, but the girl kicked at his ankle lightly, like she wanted him to keep walking.

Wayne was leaning on the counter, giving Cleo a smile and a nod, before glinting back to talking with the woman behind it. She had frizzy gray hair that Steve thought used to be red, and deep tan skin, a few piercings in her ears and tattoos up her arms.

“Marge,” she said, holding out her hand, and Steve shifted the box in his arms to shake it.

“Steve.”

He looked back at Wayne, who was watching the girl rifle through one of the boxes. She pulled out the white dress, and then looked over at Wayne, who smiled slightly at her. “You can have that. I’d rather it goes to someone who’ll use it.”

The girl made some more hand gestures at him, frowning slightly, and Wayne sighed, speaking a bit slower. “I know, kid, but I’m old. I’m learning. Give me some time.”

The girl paused for a moment again, and then nodded, before running back off between some shelves with the dress in her arms. Marge turned to Wayne, her hair bounding slightly as she reached around the old-looking cash register, pulling out a stack of bills. “For her things.”

Wayne sighed, but it sounded more sad than apologetic this time. “Marge, that’s more than this is worth.”

“I know,” she said softly. “But you need it more than I do. Sunny and I’ll be okay.” Then Marge paused, smiling wider. “And she said she wanted you to know that by the next time you see her, you should be able to spell her name, yeah?”

Wayne laughed quietly, and Steve went over to the ring box, gently moving them around to get a good look at all of them.

“I’m trying, I swear,” he heard Wayne say as he turned a silver one with a big green gem on it over in his fingers. “But learning this kind of stuff out of a book is hard. It all looks funny.”

Steve quickly grabbed the golden one he had seen before, so that it wouldn’t disappear back into the piles. He looked closer, and on the inside it read, “I’ll be your star.”

Steve looked up and saw Marge eyeing the ring in his hands. “Posy ring,” she muttered.

“What?”

“You give it to someone you like, I guess. Term of endearment. Keep it, hun, no one else wants it.”

Steve frowned, slipping the ring onto his middle finger and then taking it off again. “Why not? It’s pretty.”

“Too much history, I think,” Marge said thoughtfully, eyeing Wayne with a small smile, before turning her attention back to Steve. “No one wants a piece of someone else’s love story.”

“Oh,” Steve whispered, looking back down at the Posy Ring. “I think…I think if it were mine I would like someone else to have it. I mean—this seems like it would be something important, right? I wouldn’t want it to just…sit there.”

“I said you can have it, honey,” Marge said, laughing softly again before shooing the two of them away. “Now go, go. Sunny and’ll unpack the boxes. Tell Eddie that Sunny said hi. She misses having him around, you know.”

Wayne nodded, and Steve picketed the ring. It felt good this time, to have someone else’s history with him. Antoinette’s bird was pretty, but its history was sad, and maybe even tragic. Steve didn’t know this ring’s history yet, but he’d like to find out.

I LOVE ADDING ORIGINAL CHARACTERS FKJNVIJVBAIJVB

also I know there’s a shit ton of unexplained things, like with Antoinette, but they will be explained!! Don’t worry!!!

as always, reblogs and comments make my day ♥️⭐️

(And, as always, if you see any mistakes, lmao, I never read these over lmao)

taglist (WHICH IS ALWAYS OPEN) under the cut!!

@estrellami-1

@randombibitch

@insteviewetrust

@anne-bennett-cosplayer

@hack-saw2004

@lolawonsstuff

@goodolefashionedloverboi

@slowandsteddie

@ellietheasexylibrarian

@mugloversonly

@littlebluejane

@zombiethingy

@steddie-island

@rozzieroos

@ohimamarigold

@origamiplushie

@mamafaithful

@stillfullofshit

@gleek4twd

@swimmingbirdrunningrock

@anaibis

@xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

@honhonbaguettegofuckyourself

@kickpuncher2punchkicker

@dissociatingdemon

@itsall-taken

@pluto-pepsi

268 notes · View notes

bchan95 · 6 months

Text

Hands to Myself

Chan admires the way you look.... just fluffy nonsense really

Smoothing the sides of red satin down your thighs, you sighed to yourself. This was the first time in months that you felt comfortable enough to wear something form-fitting. Chan had gifted you this dress specifically for your anniversary date tonight.

You remember him holding out the red box with a giant bow on it, smiling wide and proud. As he watched you open it, you could hear his giggles. As soon as you popped the lid and looked inside, you smirked, rolling your eyes.

"Chan... are you sure that this gift is for me?" your eyebrow rose as your eyes met his, a light blush dusting across his cheeks.

"It might be a little bit of a selfish purchase...." he bites his lip as he maintains eye contact. "But it is your favorite color."

You giggled to yourself again as you sat in front of the mirror finally getting ready for the night ahead of you. Chan had made a reservation at your favorite restaurant. A beautiful Italian restaurant with a balcony that overlooks the ocean.

You knew that reservation list had to be miles long, and that he had to have started planning this months ago. Picturing your boyfriend frantically calling the restaurant asking for a table made your cheeks bright pink in your reflection.

Finally allowing yourself to look at your figure fully in the mirror, your smile widened. You felt good. The dress melted across your features in a way that almost made you unrecognizable to yourself in the mirror. You turned, admiring the open back and sharp slit on the other side of your dress. You found your lips rising again as you thought about your boyfriend's reaction.

Will he actually like it? Have you hyped up the reaction in your head? You shake your head, not allowing those thoughts to move forward. Instead, you turned and grabbed your clutch that sat on your bed, pulling out a sleek black tube. You popped the lid, unveiling a ruby tint. You applied the plush color to your lips and smacked them at your reflection in the mirror.

Your thumbs lightly grazed the corners of your mouth, cleaning the extra color that fell right under your lips before smiling at yourself once again in the mirror.

"There," you whisper to yourself as you step back.

You turn back toward the door, grab your purse, and put the lipstick back inside. You're halted by a sharp whistle sound. You look up and your boyfriend smiling at you. He's leaned up against the doorframe, dressed in a black button-down rolled up to his elbows and a matching pair of slacks.

"Baby...." He starts, pushing himself off of the door and walking toward you.

You turn bashfully in a circle, spinning back to him with a bright smile across your face. His hands come up to rest against your waist, his lip pulled back by his teeth.

"Do I look okay, Chan?" You almost whisper, somehow feeling shy when met with his gaze.

He laughs, squeezing your sides a bit with his hands. Your eyes dart back up to meet his, seeing his furrowed brow you begin to panic. You let out a sharp breath, causing Chan to pull you in closer to him.

"Baby, you look absolutely stunning," he lets go of your hips, one of his free hands coming to meet yours, lifting it to spin you in a circle.

You giggle as you humor him and twirl once more. He pulls your torso flesh to him as you spin back over. He plants a kiss on your forehead, letting his lips stay there for a moment as he breathes in deeply. He pulls back only for a moment before letting his forehead rest against yours. You bring your arms up to wrap around his neck.

"I selfishly almost want to stay in tonight," he groans, fingers tapping against your hip bones. "It feels unfair that anyone else will see you in this dress."

"Chan...." your voice wavering as your cheeks grow warm again under his gaze.

He giggles as he maintains eye contact with you, rocking you slowly back and forth.

"Baby, I mean it. You look so beautiful."

"Thank you Channie."

He brings one of his hands up to your chin, tilting his head as he leans forward and presses his lips against yours. You gasp, moving slowly against him. As you pull away, you see a faint red line on his pink lips. You smile softly, and bring your hand up to brush it away. Chan monitors your movements, feeling his hands tighten on your waist. You finish cleaning his lips and meet him with another smile. He sighs, nudging toward the door.

"Let's go, baby," He says as he guides you forward. "If you keep looking at me like that, we may never leave."

You giggle and nod, walking toward the front door, hand tightly clasping his as you make your way outside.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan x y/n #bang chan fanfic #bang chan fluff #bangchan x y/n #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids x y/n #bang chan x oc #stray kids scenarios

334 notes · View notes

webslingingslasher · 5 months

Note

omg what if Peter gets trouble a gift for x-mas BUT trouble didn't bother with a gift for him bc she thought that he wouldn't care about her enough to get her a gift

'what's that?'

'oh!' peter holds out the package, when you stare at the printed santa wrapping paper, he nudges it a little. 'it's for you.'

your entire stomach dropped, you knew you should've gotten him something. you were so convinced it would be stupid, but now you're eating your words.

'c'mon, trouble. what, never got a gift before?' it's fine, you could play it off. you hesitantly reach out for the box, it's even got a bow on top.

'no! i just... haven't gotten yours in the mail yet.' it's fine, you could figure something out. you had two days before he left for home.

'you didn't have to get me anything, trouble.' you peer at the gift, 'ditto, parker.' peter waves you off, 'just open it, c'mon!' you hide your guilt with a smile.

gently tearing the paper, you're met with a gift box. it has a reindeer and a penguin hugging, you peek up at peter, he's itching for you to see what's inside. 'open it, open it!'

handing off the scraps of paper, peter crushes it into a ball, keeping an eye on your face. the gift is revealed, a gray hoodie, with a spider-man mask emblem on the left top corner.

your heart expands three sizes, your thumb runs over the raised embroidering, it's high quality. 'isn't it awesome? i saw it when i was shopping for may like, three weeks ago. i just had to get it for you.' he's so excited, he was proud to know he found something he knows you'd love. and you got him nothing in return.

'okay, okay, put it on! cause there's kind of a part two of the gift.' you feel terrible, it's hard to push back the love for the clothing over the overwhelming hurt you have over getting him nothing. you knew you shouldn’t have talked yourself out of it.

you didn't want to be in peter's spot. something to give and then receive nothing in return. a subtle hint that one cares more about the other.

your silence has peter tone down his excitement, maybe he was a little off with his gift. 'do you not like it? i can return it and you can pick... no! why are you crying? is it that bad?'

you shake your head, using the back of your hand to wipe a stray tear. 'oh, whew! for a second i thought you hated it, but nope, peter picked good. so good you're speechless and crying, look at me go.'

proud. boastful. meanwhile you're solemn and glum.

'seriously, trouble. put it on!' it's the absolute least you could do, he already went miles ahead of you. the cardboard falls to the floor when you pull the fabric up, it's a bigger size than you'd normally wear. 'that's part two. i got it a little bigger so i could wear it and get my scent on it for you.'

your heart’s about to burst open, it's fleece lined and ultra soft over your skin. 'i wore it when you weren't around, so it should smell like me.' you bring a sleeve to your nose, it does. it smells like a giant peter hug. his hands pulled the hoodie over your head, a dopey smile took over his face.

'super cute. it's your superpower.'

with that, you fall into his chest with a sob. it's not a good one either, arms wrap tight around you, his cheek resting on your head mashes the cotton further down. 'i lied!' you clutch his shirt, shame spills out.

'about what? that you like it?' your head thrashes, he couldn't be more wrong. it was your most favorite possession now that it's been added to your collection.

'i didn't get you anything!' you pull him tighter to you, terrified he’d push you away and tell you he hates you. 'i'm so sorry,' you breathe in and out deeply. 'i was going to but then i didn't think you would get me anything and that's not the point of christmas but i didn't want to make you feel weird and, and,'

'i made you feel weird?' it's not the right word. 'no! i just...' peter pushes you back, his hands cup your face to force you to look at him. 'made you feel bad?' you nod, he guessed correctly.

'i meant it, trouble. you don't have to get me anything, i just saw it and thought of you. it's not a big deal, i promise.' that made you feel worse and he can see it.

'stop it, stop. you heard me, right? i got that weeks ago. christmas was just an opportunity give it to you, but if it was april or june or whatever the fuck month, i still would've bought it.' featherlight kisses to both cheeks. 'it’s a just because gift, christmas was just an excuse to give it to you, okay? you've gotten me plenty of those before, i don't need one now.'

'i'm so sorry, peter. i promise i'm gonna get you something, i mean, it won't be a christmas gift because you're going home and i won't be able to give to you until you get back so then it just becomes-'

peter grins, like he's thinking quicker than you are. 'a just because gift? like the one you're wearing?' you were the one that fucked him over, yet he's the one making you feel better. it still works.

'yeah. i think so. but, it will have christmas wrapping paper.' a stoic nod, 'of course. i mean, that's the only stuff i had in the house. it's not like i chose that pattern on purpose.' (he did. but he'd die before he admitted that to you.)

you look down at your new hoodie, you love it. your hands run down the front, it's so, so soft. you look back up, peter loves that you love it. 'not a christmas gift?' peter shakes his head, 'psh. of course not.'

your words lower, you reach up on tippy toes for a kiss. 'just because?' hands on your hips as peter leans in has your stomach fluttering, it's been a minute since he's kissed you so soft and slow. 'just because.'

#frat!peter drabbles

349 notes · View notes

queen-of-the-avengers · 8 months

Text

Explosion of Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: stepping on a mine, thinking you're gonna die, thinking the love of your life is gonna die, angst, fluff at the end

Summary: Fury has you and the team going through a minefield to look for lost data the Soviets left behind. Your scanners pick up most of the mines, but luck has it that you step on the most dangerous one of all.

Squares Filled: explosion (2020) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: I realize that landmines explode as soon as someone makes contact with them, HOWEVER, this is my story and it's fiction so I get to make the rules and I say only when the pressure is relieved do they explode like in the movies.

Miles of wasteland stand before you, acres of land that are charred from the explosions that happened between the Soviets and US Intelligence. The Soviets stole data with the intention of selling it to assassins and killers, so Fury tasked your team to go collect that stolen data. When the Soviets knew the Us was closing in on them, they scattered the data across acres knowing it would take them forever to try and retrieve it.

You’re about to step foot onto the charred land when Bucky stops you.

“Look at this.” He points to a sign a few yards away. “This is a minefield. Be careful. I don’t really wanna clean bits and pieces of the team.”

“Should we turn back?” you ask. “We only have technology scanners for the area. We can grab mine scanners.”

“No, we’re already here. Just be careful. Our scanners should be able to detect them.”

“Easy for you to say. You can fly,” you joke with Tony.

The land is so large that you have to split up on your own. Tony’s right, the scanners you have are able to detect most of the mines. Some of them are hidden so you’re not going to touch those areas if you don’t know if there is a landmine or not. Everyone is connected with earpieces so you can communicate if something is wrong, so you’re just listening to the casual conversation some are having as if you’re taking a walk in the park instead of through a deadly minefield.

“Are you and Laura finally taking that vacation you’ve been talking about?” Natasha asks.

“Yeah. Cooper is old enough to watch the other two. I was thinking of taking her up north.”

“I think she’d like that.”

You scan the ground as you walk slowly and find one of the boxes buried containing data. You kneel and dig the box up before plugging your flash drive into the data box. Once it’s done downloading, you take it out and continue to search for other data boxes. Your scanner is picking up most of the landmines but there is one patch of land that is coming up blank.

Stupid you walks right over it thinking it’s safe. You step onto fresh soil and hear something click from below you. You pause and look down to see what you stepped on. It’s buried underneath the ground but you can definitely feel something under your foot. Since this place is so big, there is no one around you to help you. No one knows you’ve stepped on one. No one knows you need help.

Your first instinct is to run like hell and hope you can survive, but you’ll only have a second before the mine goes off. Tears start rolling down your cheeks at the thought of dying. You’re still young, you still want to see the world, get married to the love of your life, and live life to the fullest with him by your side.

“Hey, guys?” you sniffle and wipe your tears even though more fall. “I’m in trouble here.”

“What’s going on?” Bucky asks in concern.

“I stepped on a mine.” Everyone becomes alert. Your body shakes in fear and your voice cracks under the pressure. “What do I do?”

“I’m on my way. Don’t move,” Bucky says. Only Bucky comes to your aid because he doesn’t want to put anyone else at risk of stepping on a mine. Bucky can see just how terrified you are when he gets to you. “Doll, you’re gonna be okay. Don’t worry, I got you.”

“I don’t want to die,” you cry.

“You’re not gonna die. I promise I won’t let that happen. Take some deep breaths for me, Doll.” The first and second ones are shaky but the third and fourth ones are much smoother. “Good girl. You’re doing great. Keep doing that. I’m gonna dig the mine out so I can see what we’re dealing with. This won’t explode. I’m just digging around it.”

“Okay,” you sigh shakily.

Bucky gets on his knees and uses his knife to dig out the soil around the mine. Tony, Rhodey, and Sam fly over to see how bad the situation is while the rest of the Avengers make their way back to the start of the minefield.

“What’s going on here? What do you see?” Sam asks Bucky.

Bucky digs out enough soil to see exactly the kind of mind you stepped on.

“It’s a bounding mine.”

“Shit,” Sam sighs.

“What does that mean?” you panic.

“Nothing--”

“Don’t bullshit me, Bucky. What does that mean?”

“It’s a more deadly mine than the others. It shoots the main propeller about four feet into the air, and metal shards fly out of it over the span of six hundred feet. It’s very deadly.”

“Can you disable it?” Steve asks over comm.

“No.”

“Oh, God,” you cry and cover your mouth. You take two deep breaths to calm yourself down. “Bucky, get the hell out of here.”

“Like hell, I’m leaving you.”

“Bucky, please,” you whimper and take his hand. He stands to his full height in front of you. “I don’t want to die but I don’t want you to die more. You need to get out of here. There’s no use for this mine to take both of us out. Tony, get him the hell out of here.”

Tony is about to take Bucky when your boyfriend holds up a hand to stop him.

“Wait. Can I at least get a kiss goodbye?”

Instead of giving him a verbal answer, you pull him close and kiss him like it’s gonna be your last. He slides his hand into your hair and grips it gently so he can control the kiss. He kisses you in a way that makes your head dizzy. The kind of kiss that makes you forget about everything but the feel of his lips.

If he’s gonna kiss you one more time, may as well make it memorable. You pull away from him and open your eyes to study the shade of blue in his. You expect him to pull away and leave your side but you frown when he doesn’t. You look down to see him standing on top of the mine and you are free. He must have switched positions with you while kissing you.

“No, what did you do?” you gasp.

“I promised you I wouldn’t let you die.”

“No, I’m not letting you do this!”

“Tony, get her out of here.”

As soon as Tony’s hands are on you, you’re fighting him.

“No! Bucky!” Tony grips you tightly and flies off with you in his arms. The image of Bucky gets smaller and smaller until you can’t see him anymore. As soon as Tony sets you down, you’re running toward Bucky. Steve jumps into action and practically tackles you to the ground. “No! Let me go! Please! Bucky!!!”

“Y/N, stop fighting.”

“No! You gotta let me go. I have to be with him!” Suddenly, an explosion happens and you sob loudly. “NO! Bucky!!”

You fall to the ground in a fit of sobs at the loss of your boyfriend. Steve’s arms are still wrapped around your body to prevent you from going after him. As soon as one explosion happened, another one followed suit, and another one, and another one. The air is covered with thick smoke that is very hard to see through so you’re not sure if Bucky is even alive.

Everyone is silent for their fallen friend. The only thing that can be heard is your heartbreaking sobs.

“Look, I see something,” Clint points out something in the smoke.

You look up and see something emerging from the smoke. Once the smoke clears, you can see Bucky walking toward the group with his vibranium arm in his flesh hand.

“Did you really think I was gonna let a mine take me from my girl?” he coughs.

The spikes on his body open to welcome his arm and he locks it into place. He whips his arm around to make sure it’s on properly, and you scramble out of Steve’s arms. You run into Bucky’s arms and cry against his chest. You’re too overwhelmed to say anything but hug, kiss, and embrace him. When you’ve calmed down, you pull away from him and slap him in the chest.

“Never do that again!”

“I had no choice. I knew I could have survived but you wouldn’t have.”

“You could have at least told me that!”

“I didn’t know if it was gonna work or not,” he says quietly.

Everyone got what they needed from the minefield, so you head back to the Compound. You haven’t said one word to Bucky after leaving the minefield, and he hates when you give him the silent treatment.

“Doll, please talk to me,” he begs. He follows you into your shared bedroom, and you quickly head into the bathroom. Before he can join you, you close the door and lock it so he can’t get in. Of course, he can get in with his metal arm but he’s respecting your privacy. “I’m sorry, but I had to save your life.” He rests his forehead on the door and he can hear you crying softly inside. “Y/N, please come out.”

You don’t. He sits on the floor right outside the bathroom door and waits for you to come out. He sits there for hours waiting patiently for you to come out of the bathroom. When you do, you take a seat next to him on the floor.

“What we have is a partnership, Bucky.” You look into his eyes. “Your life isn’t fully yours anymore. You have my heart in your hand so if you die, then so will I.”

“The same thing goes for you, Doll.”

“If you would have told me what you wanted to do, I would have been more likely to go along with it. You have to be better at communicating. I will do the same.”

“Okay, you got it. Do you want to watch movies for the rest of the night?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

538 notes · View notes

luveline · 1 year

Note

Eddie and Roan both catching a cold and the reader takes care of them 🥺?

thank you for your request! dad!eddie x (nearly)stepmom!reader <3 all the established relationship fluff and love i could fit into 6k cw suggestive scene (fade to black) ♥︎ eddie and roan

Eddie feels like shit when he finishes work. He's sweating so much he had to change his coveralls before getting in the car, and his head is pounding with an aggressive headache, but he pops two Tylenol with a rogue bottle of water and pulls out of the lot. He beeps at Wayne as he drives past him, and then he starts on the road that'll take him to Hawkins Elementary.

Roan's one of the youngest in her class but she sure doesn't look small sitting on the floor of her classroom. The door to the class is open, and Eddie feels a hundred miles better than he had when she catches sight of him and smiles at him like he's the best thing sliced bread. It amazes him that she seems so happy to see him day after day, each time like it's a marvel. Almost as if she's surprised.

"Hey," he says, bending down to catch her as she runs toward him, her cardigan soft under his hands.

"Hello," she says happily.

"Hey," he says again, and this isn't the time or place to cuddle but he does it anyway.

He indulges himself. Hugs from his daughter always make him feel better, especially when she's ecstatic to see him.

"Got all your stuff?"

"Yes," she says heavily.

"Even your water bottle?"

She shakes her shoulders. The water bottle inside of her backpack knocks against her lunch box. "Yes!"

"Okay– let's go home."

She beams. Eddie puts her down on her own two feet, her new cornflower blue sneakers like flowers blooming over asphalt with each step she takes. Eddie wonders what you did with all your spare cash before you started spoiling him and his girl, and he'd asked you once. You'd been sitting on the floor of a changing room with Roan, he could see your knees in the gap under the door as he waited outside, and you'd opened the door to show off the fancy dress Roan had been trying on and said, "My savings account was much healthier, but I mostly spent it on takeout. Now I got my own private chef, I don't need to get pizza so often."

Roan had heard the word pizza and that was it. Dress shopping was paused for the day, and the three of you shared a large Margherita in the car on the way home.

"What do we want for dinner today?" Eddie asks, Roan's hand swinging in his.

"What do we got?"

"I have lots of different pasta. Or we could make chicken." There's a plastic tupperware full of wings about to go bad. "Or maybe one of Y/N's favourites?"

Roan hops down off of the club and keeps close to Eddie's side as they cross the parking lot to his car.

Eddie doesn't wanna tell Roan you've been having a bad week because you don't wanna tell her, and it's not fair to kids to drag them down with you, but Eddie's not going to do that. He won't tell her your problem, how work has been making you especially miserable, how your coworkers aren't exactly kind. He'll just… express that you need some extra love.

"If we could make something for her together, that would make her so happy. She's been feeling real blue," he says tentatively.

Roan looks up at him with a frown. "She doesn't look blue. She looks normal'd."

"It's an expression," he says fondly. "It means she's been kinda sad."

Roan looks up at him, thick lashes kissing the skin below her eyebrows as her eyes widen. The neck of her soft blue cardigan is falling down one of her small shoulders, and he nudges her out of the way of the car door so he can get her in it before the cold catches up with her.

"Why is she sad?" she asks.

Her concern is clear. Eddie lifts her up under the armpits and proudly doesn't bump her head, stationing her in her car seat. She doesn't need his help getting in anymore, but old habits die hard.

"It's like… remember when those girls were picking on Stacey K, and she wanted to stay home from school? Y/N wants to stay home from work sometimes, but she has to be a big girl just like Stacey was and keep her head up."

"I shouted at the girls," Roan says. She sounds quizzical.

Eddie clips her seat belt over her chest and straightens out her knitted cardigan. "You're my bravest girl, that's why. You were a really good friend for Stacey." He kisses her forehead with a sticky, "Mwah!"

She's still giggling when Eddie closes her door and gets into the driver's seat. She tapers off as Eddie twists his key and starts the engine, and doesn't talk again until they're almost home. Eddie doesn't worry — she's listening to the kids cassette in the stereo, and she gets tired after school. Despite his best efforts he's exhausted himself. He'll ask her about school once he's in his pyjamas.

"Could you go into her job?"

"What?" Eddie asks, not really listening as he reverses backward into the driveway outside of your house. His house, your house together. You and him and Roan and Lucky the goldfish.

"Could you go be brave for mom?"

He smiles. He likes when she calls you mom more than he can put into words. "I could, but she won't let me. And it might make things worse, you know?"

"Why would it make things worse?"

"Uh, because grown ups don't really like when you try to tell them off."

"I don't like it either."

"I know you don't, babe."

Eddie gets out, releases the rascal, and the two of them jog up the few gentle steps to the door. He unlocks it and Roan stands patiently by the mat for him to take off her shoes. She could do it herself, but again — old habits die hard. He loves taking care of her and doing things for her, the little things and the big. Taking her shoes off is fun for both of them. She strokes hair out of his face so he's not blind and he squeezes her sock-clad toes until she squeals.

She makes for the living room for her after school cartoons.

"Hey, wait, Ro! I thought you were gonna help me make dinner?"

She grumbles but it's with a good-natured spirit, spinning on her heel but remaining in the living room. "I got to feed Lucky, daddy."

"Oh, right. You feed the fish, I'll get some jammies."

She nods, determined.

"Just a pinch! We don't want him to get fat and explode!"

"Ew!"

Eddie finishes work at 3PM to grab Roan when her elementary school ends at 3.30. You finish work at 5PM, and you don't get home most days until near 6PM. It's a big gap where they both miss you like crazy, but it usually means that dinners all done or getting there when you finally drag yourself inside.

Eddie can't lie, he hadn't pictured himself with a business woman. Though business might be the wrong word. You work an office job, and you wear professional office clothes, and God, it gets him pretty much every day. He prefers you in your pyjamas or your day clothes, sure, but there's something about you in your little pencil skirts and your soft cashmere sweaters, make up all smudgy and wearing off, kicking your short kitten heels in a pile at the door.

You peel out of your coat and Eddie watches from the kitchen doorway, arms scrubbed clean of grease and crossed against his chest.

"Hi, handsome," you say, more quietly than usual.

"Hey," he says. His throat aches a little. He puts it down to needing a drink. "Hey, sweet thing. You look tired. Want me to cheer you up?"

"Gotta see my girl first, sorry."

He pretends you've stabbed him, not the dramatic, fall-to-the-floor affair he might've pulled a couple of years ago, but a stabbing all the same. He rubs his heart and doesn't feel even slightly mad with you when he hears Roan's happy cry.

"You're home!"

"You didn't think I was coming home today?"

"You took six years," she says severely.

"Six!" Your cheerful laughter draws Eddie in like a moth to a light. He slides down the hall and around the stairs to watch you take Roan's face into your hands, her pale ones behind your back to keep her balance where she's standing on the couch cushions. "You don't look nearly twelve, bubby."

Your hand climbs her face. You press it to her forehead and he can hear your frown, though he can't see your face. "Are you feeling okay, Ro?"

Roan blinks. "I feel happy."

"Oh, do you? That's good!"

You pick her up, one hand behind her back and one under her butt, messy curls all in your face when Roan wraps her arms around your neck. You carry her to Eddie where he's lingering in the doorway, shifting her on your hip, a concerned tug to your brows.

Eddie brings a hand to her forehead himself, feeling along the warm skin gently. She's hotter than she should be.

"You're sure you feel okay?" he asks her.

Roan is confused by the attention, but she doesn't hate it. "Yes?"

"You feel super hot."

"I am super hot!" she says. She throws back her shoulders and does a practised pout, a model expression, her thin eyebrows bobbing down as she tries to wink.

You glow with love, Eddie can pretty much see it in the air as you laugh. "Super hot," you second, giggling and dropping sneaky kisses against her temple.

"You're beautiful," Eddie says pointedly.

"Super beautiful."

"Where'd you even learn that?" Eddie asks. "'Hot'?"

"You say to mom in the morning?" Roan says, like Eddie's an idiot as the three of you make you way to the kitchen. "She's so hot, and pretty, and you need to crack the window!"

Eddie covers his mouth. "You heard that?" He meets your eyes and he knows how he looks, a rosy tint taking to his otherwise pale cheeks.

"And when you were singing, too."

"Oh, my god."

You laugh like crazy, giggles bubbling out of you like a soda rocket and quickly turning to bigger, fuller peels that would usually make him laugh too. He'd serenaded you this morning, a bumpy and extremely sincere rendition of As Long As It's Not About Love. He'd been trying to convince you to come back to bed, pencil skirt and all, for one last kiss.

"Roanie, I didn't know you were awake, baby. You should come and say hi once you're up." A warning would be good.

"I was too tired to move, daddy, I already told you."

"Yeah, dad," you say, "she already told you, so back off."

Eddie waves his hand at both of you. "Who needs you guys? I'll just eat this delicious dinner we made by myself."

He doesn't eat dinner by himself. He pulls the tray from the oven he'd covered over and you set the table. Roan pours juice into a cup for herself and doesn't tip any of it onto the table, for which she receives a heaping mound of praise. Eddie cracks open a can of ginger ale and pours it into a darker glass so you won't spot that it isn't normal soda and worry. He'll be fine in the morning, he knows.

When you find out they've made your favourite, you get all mushy. You wrap your arms around his neck and rub your cheeks together, and you smile around every mouthful. You eat dinner as a family, and afterwards, Eddie lets Roan fill the bath right to the top with bubbles and brushes out her curls, which hang straight with the weight of the water. He gets her out, wraps her up in a poncho, and laments the loss of her baby curls as you sidle past him to wash the bubbles out of the bath and climb in the shower.

"Her hair's not as curly as mine was when I was a kid," he says, calling to be heard over the sound of the water. He can see your silhouette behind the shower curtain, an underwater scene of dolphins and tropical fish.

"You think it'll get straighter?" you ask between squeezes of the shampoo bottle.

Eddie rubs Roan's cheeks dry with a face towel gently. The hot water has pretty much knocked her out, her eyes drooping. "Probably. It's already way less curly than when she was a baby."

He picks her up. She's limp. "I'm gonna go get her dressed!"

"Okay, handsome, I'll be right out. Make sure there's still some hot water for you."

Eddie dresses Roan and dries her hair with a blow dryer, cold air fighting against the fatigue stealing her away. She shivers and he turns it up to the first heat, careful not to burn her scalp. Eddie could barely look after himself at nineteen, and just around seven years later he's an expert in taking care of someone else. Well, maybe not an expert. He's good, though, and he tries hard enough and with enough pure love to make up for any mistakes.

"You're so tired, babe," he says softly, clicking off the hairdryer to rake his fingers through her still warm hair. It looks very straight now, only the ends remaining curled. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She reminds him of the quieter girl she'd been. Roan had taken a little time to come out of her shell, tantrums aside, and meeting you had pretty much rocketed her into extrovertedness. It happened slowly and all at once — one day she was just loud, and cheerful, and so, so charming. He loves her now and he'd loved her then. Quiet Roan is like an adorable treat, but it also points to bad tidings.

Roan is quiet when she's sick, sad, or confused.

Eddie's betting it's the first. He presses his hand against her forehead but of course she's warm, she'd been in a warm bath only twenty minutes ago.

She doesn't answer him. She looks small in her big princess bed, her sheer cherry pink curtains hanging down to compliment the brand new and puffy quilt he'd bought for winter. Her legs are crossed, one bare foot sticking out. Eddie crouches in front of her, scratching the sole of her foot with his pinky nail to make her smile.

"There's my girl." He flicks her knee. "You want me to read you something, sweetheart? I don't think we're gonna make it to the couch tonight."

"Can we have Bad Cat Saves the World?" she asks.

Eddie drags her up to the huge pillows against the headboard and pushes her chest mildly. She tips back into the pillows with a pleased huff. Her lack of outrage clues him in.

Roan is sick.

"You can have anything you want if you drink some water before bed."

"Wugh," she says.

"That's almost a real word. Good job, babe."

"Thank you."

—

You step out of the shower and wrap a towel around yourself quickly. The bathroom is thick with heat, so you push open the window and stand in the cold breeze. The window must be open in Roan's room, you realise, when you hear the dulcet tones of Eddie's reading voice floating toward you.

"And Bad Cat said, no, Mr. President, I'm the one flying the plane! He wiggled his whiskers and pushed the wheel left with one of his ginger paws, the aeroplane shooting through the sky at top speed. I'm going to save the world, Bad Cat cried."

Eddie does the best voices, truly. He's high and low, scratchy and sweet. He takes all the right pauses and kicks it up a notch at the most exciting parts, reading line after line in a whirl. Your skin feels dry and chapped as his voice begins to quieten; you've listened for too long.

You step into your shared bedroom, pull on some underwear but no bra, and try to lotion up before he comes in and sees you naked. You don't know if he'll have Roan with him. The door creaks open and you squeak, forcing yourself deeper into the wardrobe you'd been searching through.

"I'm not dressed!" you say.

It wouldn't really matter if Roan saw you naked, she's just a baby and you're a family, but there's nothing wrong with having the boundary there either. Luckily there's no Roan in tow with Eddie either way.

"Is that a promise?" he asks, and his eyes light up when he enters.

You cross your arm over your chest and dig for a t-shirt to wear.

"Don't look, perv."

"We're getting married," he says. "I've seen it all already."

"I don't care, perv, stay back." You slip a loose t-shirt over your head and bend down again for some pyjama pants.

It doesn't matter what you say. Eddie comes up behind you where you're bending over and leans into you, arms needling around your waist, one greedy hand under your shirt and squeezing the soft roll of your stomach. You shoot up and smile at him from over your shoulder. It's odd. Despite what you'd joked, you don't mind him seeing you undressed. How could you? You've loved one another for longer than you ever could've imagined, in ways you didn't know people did. You know Eddie thinks you're beautiful, and you don't look like someone from the magazines. They're two coinciding facts.

"She's sleeping?" you ask.

"She wiped out completely. I think she might be coming down with something."

You frown. "Poor baby."

"It's alright. We'll take care of it as it comes."

"We will." You nudge the tip of his nose with yours, aware of how quiet the house is, and how much you've missed him all day. "Are we going to bed, too?"

His hands come up. It's not not sexual, but it's more intimate than anything else as he grabs at the soft skin of your torso and then, tentatively, your chest.

Your lips drift closer and closer, and when he kisses you it's achingly slow, close-lipped. He pulls your back to his front and your crane your neck, hands covering his hands, eyes shuttering as he gets a little more insistent. It can only be a couple of seconds, held-breath heart-pounding seconds that make your tummy roll with heat, before he's pulling away.

"Baby, I think I might be coming down with something, too."

It takes a second for his words to calibrate. "You're sick?"

"My head's been pounding all day. I want you, but– I don't wanna get you sick," he says. He sounds so torn.

"You're sure it's not a one day thing?" you ask, frowning.

He swallows a lump in his throat. "Regretfully."

If he's sick, and Roan's sick, you can't get sick too. It would throw a huge spanner in the works. Eddie's immune system is a sinking ship on a normal day. When he gets sick, it's bad.

You untangle yourself from Eddie's grasp and feel his disappointment. It's sweet that he wants to keep you from the same fate as him.

You take his face into your hands.

"Go take a shower, handsome, and then…" You stare straight into his eyes, brown honey ringed with light. "We won't kiss. Or, you won't kiss me on the lips. Yeah?"

He pulls your hand from his cheek to squeeze your fingers, a tight bunching full of promise. "Yeah. It's gonna break my heart–"

"I'm sure," you say.

"–but I'll make it up."

You walk backwards out of his arms and flop languidly into the clean white sheets on your bed, toying with the bottom of your t-shirt. "Whatever you say, bub."

Eddie sets the record for world's quickest shower that night.

—

Eddie wakes up. He's expecting that post-sex bonelessness, like every bit of tension has been pulled from him by your delicate fingers, but instead feels as if he'd been hit by a truck. Last night had been the total opposite of rough. It isn't the sex that's messed him up.

He's sick.

Shit, he thinks, rubbing his dry face with a hand warmed by your back.

You lay over his chest, your lips to his heart, the dark tattoo covering it. One hand crushed under your side curls weakly by his hip, and the other is hidden pretty much inside his armpit. He snorts at you and your blank expression, but smiles when he remembers the sweet, soft way you'd looked at him last night, your eyelashes heavy with unshed happy tears, your arms tight around his shoulder blades like you'd worried he'd disappear. He hadn't been able to kiss you like he wanted to, lips on your lips and just a little too much tongue, but he'd found the next best thing on the slope of your shoulder. He nudges your shirt down so he can peer at the poor scandalization of skin, that purple-red mess of burst capillaries wrought by his eager nibbling.

As much as Eddie would like to laze about with you in the afterglow at night, you're grown-ups. Which isn't to say he doesn't get his hugs in after, he does —he cuddles you, lays praise down thick, blushes without fail when you do the same— but he and you have a whole post-fuck routine; cleaning up, throwing the towel in the washing machine, changing the sheets if you need to.

Eddie will peek his head into Roan's room to check she's still sleeping, and, exhausted, the two of you go back to bed and fall asleep yourselves. He doesn't enjoy getting back into his pyjamas afterward, missing your skin pretty much instantly, but it's necessary, and proves to be when Roan pushes into your room that morning unannounced.

Eddie sits up and tries not to disturb you, finger to his lips.

"My stomach hurts," she says.

He eases you off of his chest and into the cool sheets where you usually sleep. He swings his legs around and finds it takes a lot more effort than usual.

"Yeah? Hungry hurts or like you need the bathroom hurts?"

"Just hurts," she says insistently.

Eddie stands, tucks you in as fast as he's able and turns to Roan. She stands at the end of the bed unsurely, hair at her neck curled up with sweat, her usually white face an unfortunate pink. He puts his arms out for her, groaning when he pulls her up his chest, her knees either side of his hip. She wants a hug and Eddie wants a second to digest what's happening, so he stops right there in the middle of the room and hugs her too his chest.

"Think you might be sick, baby," he says gently.

"Do I get the strawberry medicine?" she asks.

"Depends. Can you stop when you want to?"

"What?"

He laughs to himself. He wishes you were awake to laugh too, but he lets you sleep. "Yeah, you can have the strawberry medicine. How bad is it hurting, huh? Does your throat hurt?"

"Maybe."

He frowns at her tearful voice. "Oh, no… and your toes, are they orange?"

"Don't think so," Roan says, stretching one of her legs out and analysing her toes.

"Good," he says, giving you one last glance before he moves to the stairs, carrying Roan down them one careful step at a time. He doesn't trust his heavy head. "I thought for a second you had Alienitis."

"Alien-ites?" she asks.

He nods sagely, flicking on the hallway light as he reaches the bottom of the stairs. "It starts with a bad tummy, and then you start to turn orange from the toes until all your skin is shiny and slimy like a pool toy, and then your throat hurts."

He turns on the kitchen light and sets Roan down on the counter near the fridge.

"But you already have a bad tummy and a sore throat, so you definitely don't have Alienitis." He beams at her relieved face. "Thank the heavens."

He peels the thermometer off of the fridge. It's a magnet, made of paper, and you press it to your kids forehead and let it sit for a minute before you read it. He slaps it on her with a pretend aggression to make her laugh, and they both wait for it to warm up. Eddie looks down at her. She looks up.

"Come here often?" he asks.

"All the time. Do you?"

"Sometimes, yeah. See the game last night?"

"Which game?" she asks, pert nose wrinkling in confusion.

"Any of them?"

"I saw you and Y/N do the dishes dance."

"How'd you rate that? Out of ten?"

"You dropped your bowl."

"A five, then."

Roan presses her lips together. "She's always better."

"That's not fair, my hands get all soapy from the water."

Roan's temperature is a solid 102.

"It's official, you're sick." He rubs her cheek, her ear, her hair soft under his hand. "But I'm gonna fix you right up good as new, babe, so don't worry."

Roan leans back against the microwave oven and huffs forlornly.

"Hey, it'll be fine. It's gonna be better than fine, Ro. We'll make sure you have lots of yummy drinks and medicine and I'm sure if we ask really nicely your mom'll make her soup, and…" He loves how much Roan loves you, leaning in to emphasise the importance of what he's about to say. "She'll snuggle with you all. Day. Long."

"She will?"

Is she kidding? The second you find out Roan has a temperature, he'll have to pry you away from her with a crowbar.

"She will."

"Can we wake her up?"

He thinks about it. You've had a really hard week. You deserve to rest and catch up with the sleep you've been missing out on, but Roan's the confessed light of your life and she wants you. If he doesn't wake you up, you'll only ask why not.

"How about I put you on the couch with some TV and I'll go wake her up, and see how she's feeling?"

Roan pouts. "I want to."

He'd hoped to sneak in a hug, considering how his legs and arms and head are aching. But he finds it hard to be selfish when Roan looks the way she does now, her eyes pleadingly wide, thin brows threaded together at the starts. She puts her hands together.

"Okay, you can do it. But try to be nice. No shouting in her ears. This is strictly a hug operation."

Roan screws her hands in his shirt and he sets her down. She tiptoes down the hall, up the stairs, and into the master bedroom, Eddie behind her all the while unbearably enamoured.

He helps her climb into your bed. You've twisted onto your back now, and Roan carefully crawls to your side, snuggling up under the arm that isn't covered by blankets. You don't wake at first, but Roan rubs your tummy, whispers, "Please wake up, Y/N," and you rouse like magic. Your eyes remain closed by life flares into your limbs, arms wrapping around Roan, pulling her onto your stomach and chest automatically.

"I got a tummy ache," Roan says, a hint of desperation in her voice.

Your eyes open. Eddie suspects you don't even know he's there, your gaze locking onto Roan's.

"Yeah? What's the matter, princess, do you need me to pat your back?"

"No… it's all twisty. We took my tempa-chure and I'm too hot."

You look first to your side where Eddie usually lies.

"Over here, sweetness."

You push yourself into a sitting position with Roan locked to your front, pressing the back of your free hand to her head as you look to him for confirmation.

"One oh two," he says.

You sit her in your lap and flatten out her frizzy hair uselessly. Your frown melds to a put upon smile, a mom face. It says everything's going to be okay.

"Well, we better fix you up then, huh? We'll havta call Uncle Wayne for some of his tools," —you clear your throat, the tired scratchiness in your voice ebbing— "and tighten all your screws again. How's that sound?"

"I'm not a car," she laughs.

"What? Since when?"

You're soft in the mornings. Your eyes are swollen and puffy still, your voice a quiet but earnest hum. You look up over her head and he knows what you're thinking.

"I'm okay," he says easily. "I'll go get the phone."

Roan laughs full-belly. "Guys! I am not a car!"

"You beep like one," you say, pretending to honk her nose. "Beep beep."

It's the calm before the storm.

—

Roan cries and cries and cries. She's in your lap again, but this time you're downstairs on the couch with her softest throw blanket and a pillow, rubbing her poor tummy. You've spent the day waiting for her to throw up, but no dice yet. Eddie's trying very hard to help you out, though he's practically paralysed by a migraine in the armchair. Each rattle of Roan's sobbing makes him wince.

You have her propped against your chest, her shoulders heaving. There's an empty bucket used for washing the dishes at your feet. Roan is adamant she won't be sick.

"Do you want to go to the bathroom again?" you ask softly, rubbing her trembling arms in hopes of soothing her.

"No, I don't need to," she insists, "just hurts. I want more medicine, mommy."

You crumple like wet tissues. "I know, princess. Another hour and you can have more, I promise."

"I want it now."

"It's okay, Roan," Eddie says, jaw clenched but not a hint of anger in his voice. "You're alright, bub, you just need to calm down. All this crying is gonna make it worse."

You hum your agreement. "Your dad's right. Let's try to calm down, should we? Is there something we can do to calm down? Maybe we should drink some more of dad's ginger ale, that might be yummy."

"Let me take her," Eddie says. His skin is pale and waxy, sweat shimmering in the light across his brow and top lip.

You nibble your cheek. "Sweetheart," you say, and mean it intensely, "you can go up to bed if you need to."

"I'm fine. Come on, give me back my girl. I'm gonna fix her with a magic spell."

You try to transfer Roan from your lap to his. You've seen Eddie's spells in action, how he whispers words you don't don't know from a game he plays with his friends every other week, or every other other week when life is busy, pressing raspberries into the nape of her neck and tickling her arms. They're a surefire way to cure an owie.

Roan doesn't want a magic spell, she wants medicine. She sobs and turns in your arms, seeking your comfort. She buries her face in the soft fabric of your sleep shirt.

Eddie stands up to help, stricken by her increasing volume, and abruptly has to sit back down.

"Eddie," you say, more severely than you mean to. "Sit down."

"Sitting," he mumbles, dropping his head down between his knees, hands in his hair.

He quickly lifts it with a groan.

"Shit," he says.

You shush Roan gently, lips near her ear. Your hand rubs a steadfast line down the curve of her spine, and when it comes back up you take a deep breath. You don't know if Roan understands what you're doing or if her pain simply starts to lessen, but long, tense minutes unravel into half an hour and she thankfully calms down, dipping into sleep after you dot her damp forehead with kisses.

"Eddie," you say, when you're sure she's knocked out. "Baby, are you okay?"

"I'm sorry," he says, lifting his sweaty face from his hand. He looks heartbreakingly ill.

"That's okay, I don't want any sorrys."

"I didn't mean to make you deal with that alone."

"Well, I wasn't alone," you say. "You're sitting right there."

He presses the backs of his hands to his eye sockets and breathes out hard. You can't reach him with your hands, so you extend your leg until your ankle rubs against his.

"You have a stomach ache?"

"I think I have everything," he says.

You pull Teddy, Roan's one eared teddy bear, off of the seat beside you, and then move the pillows and bowl of food Roan hadn't managed to eat to the other side.

"Come and sit by me," you coax gently.

Eddie looks stiff as a board as he stands and walks to the couch. He sits down slow, leaning back slower. He looks at the ceiling before he turns his neck to face you, one eye screwed shut. You suspect his migraine is pretty much debilitating him at this point.

"Okay?" you murmur.

"I'll live. Hopefully."

He chuckles but stops with another sore wince.

You drop your hand onto his knee. He looks sad. He looks like he's gonna pass out.

"Baby, you gotta tell me how bad you're feeling," you say, nearly singing the words, hoping to inject that little bit of lightness he's missing back onto his pretty lips.

"It's just my head–"

"Thought it was everything?"

"–is gonna explode," he concludes, flopping his face into your arm, one of his hands cupping Roan's back beside yours.

"I'm really sorry, my love," you murmur.

He huffs. He knows, as you know, that you're not sorry in that you think you made him sick. You're sorry that he's sick, sorry he's in any pain at all, sorry that Roan's down for the count as well.

He turns his lips to your shoulder and leaves them there.

"Everything's gonna be fine."

"I know it, sweet thing." His voice sounds like it's made of crushed glass.

When Eddie finally falls asleep, Roan wakes. You're damp everywhere they touch you— they're like two huge hot water bottles. Roan scrunches awake and you're sorry to do it, but you push Eddie away from you and climb out from under his weight, taking his mini me to the kitchen where the strawberry medicine calls her name. You plop her down in her chair with the cushion on the seat and spoon medicine into her mouth. She's too tired to realise she doesn't really like it.

You wet the corner of a hand towel and wipe the sticky dribble off of her chin. You're patting her clammy forehead when she looks up.

"Thanks, mommy," she says.

You frame her face, hand towel pressed to the side of her head.

"You're welcome." You lean forward, tap your nose into hers. "I love you."

You say it stretchy and sweet, like taffy. She lights up at the sound.

"I love you more," she says.

"No way, madam. I love you more than anybody."

"I love you to the moon," she tries.

"To the moon! I love you to the sun, then."

"Is that further away?" she questions.

You stroke her hair back from her face with your free hand, wrists on her shoulders. You do it nicely, fingers tangling in the downy soft strands of her curls, no rush to be anywhere but here.

"It's a million trillion miles away," you guess.

"Woah. That much?"

You nod, head bobbing, "That much and more."

"That's a lot of love," she says. Like a kid standing at the precipice of the world's biggest candy store, staring out at a million different shelves, a rainbow of colour reflected on her feverish cheeks. But she's not in a candy store at all, she's looking at you.

"So much," you say, smiling.

"Mmm… Woah."

"Girls?" comes Eddie's voice, calling from the living room. "Everything cool?"

"Dad!" Roan shouts. "Guess what? Y/N said she loves me to the sun and it is a million'd miles away! That's more than the moon away!"

Eddie groans. "Wait a second, don't be lovely without me. I'm…" His voice drops to a mutter. "I'm a weak man."

You wait but don't hear any footsteps.

"Think we better go kiss him better, Ro," you say.

She goes all shy. "Will you carry me again?"

"Hm, let me think."

You swoop her up into your arms so fast she's immediately hysterical, giggling at the sudden vertigo.

"Girls," Eddie whines. "I can't get up. Stop having fun without me."

"We're on our way with Tylenol!" you call.

"I don't want Tylenol, I want love to the sun, or whatever."

You princess carry Roan into the living room and settle back down in your seat next to Eddie, who, despite desperately needing the Tylenol you've brought with you, takes the kisses you offer first, featherlight kisses, all over his cheek.

"That definitely wasn't enough," he says. He looks at you from between his lashes, slamming them shut again when he notices you watching. "C'mon girls, I'm sick."

"So's Roan and she's not making demands."

"I never said I was a good person, you know? I'm desperate."

You give him one last kiss. He waves his hand and Roan gives him another.

He sighs through a happy, sleepy smile. "Thank you. Now that felt like love to the sun."

—

Bad Cat is a character from Stephen Chbosky's novel Imaginary Friend that I borrowed, he isn’t mine! thanks so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed! if you did, please consider reblogging because it means so much to me <3<3<3<3

#eddie and roan #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie munson x reader #dad!eddie munson #dad!eddie x mom!reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic

1K notes · View notes