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#and now I actually feel really hurt because I’m like wait yes you totally could have told me before posting

futureman · 10 months

Text

switching the positions

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)

warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food

word count: 16.2k

moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡

a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!

SUNDAY

"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."

“She’s gonna hate me.”

“She’s not gonna hate you.”

Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away.

Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.

“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.

“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.

“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?”

He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.

“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”

Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it.

“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?”

You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.

“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”

He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.

“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.”

So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.

MONDAY

"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."

It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.

You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays.

Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.

Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—

And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets.

It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief.

“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.

His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.

You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.

Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life.

But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again.

“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.”

The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately.

“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.

“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”

Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.

“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.

"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.

"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"

You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect.

The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.

Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.

You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.

"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."

He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.

Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most.

You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.

"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."

"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."

So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.

Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—

Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.

"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."

A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth.

"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.

"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—

The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.

"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."

You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.

Neither of you makes it to work on time.

TUESDAY

"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."

The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.

You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.

“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.

“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.

“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”

“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.

“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.

“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless.

It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too.

“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her.

It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself.

You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand.

“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.

“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack.

…Wait. She’s leaving?

“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”

“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”

You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder.

“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!”

And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.

You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?

Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.

Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best.

Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.

The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.

There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship.

Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.

Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.

You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good.

You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise.

“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”

Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit.

Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.

And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.

“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”

He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen.

“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.

“Good. It’s dinner time.”

WEDNESDAY

"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."

Spin class sucks.

There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.

It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this.

It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun.

But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.

No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it.

There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.

The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative.

It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.

Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.

Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him.

What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats.

Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you.

That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.

The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are.

Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all.

You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.

"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"

You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far.

On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.

It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.

“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."

Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core.

You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.

Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.

"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"

His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it.

Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.

Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.

"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."

And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars.

Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful.

Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—

But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.

"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"

Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.

"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.

You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.

"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.

"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.

"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.

"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine."

Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him.

You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.

All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—

But he's got one last edge left in him.

You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.

He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.

"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively.

Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you.

But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.

You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.

"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need.

You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs.

Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?

But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself.

Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.

“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."

You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?

"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.

He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.

"Wanna explain what all of that was?"

"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."

"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense.

You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.

"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"

"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!"

But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.

"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.

"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.

"That's okay. We won't need one."

THURSDAY

"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"

Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.

You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.

How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.

Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.

It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option.

Two blue lines. Pregnant.

You knew this week was going a little too well.

Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.

Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought.

Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this.

It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.

There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.

Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point.

You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before?

Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight.

Fuck.

Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.

But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar.

Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?

No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.

If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable.

Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.

So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken.

Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.

“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”

She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken.

“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”

“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”

The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.

Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.

It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.

"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"

Yeah, you could say that.

You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.

"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you.

His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you.

Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering.

That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.

Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.

But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.

His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.

His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."

Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm.

But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.

“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.

“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”

Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.

The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.

“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells.

“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”

“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone.

Together. You’re in this together.

“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”

FRIDAY

"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."

Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.

You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk.

“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.”

You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.

Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer.

Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that.

You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up.

Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes.

Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur.

Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time.

You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.

Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.

Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.

“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand.

But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer.

“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”

You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck.

“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.

“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips.

Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans.

You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere.

Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.

But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.

“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”

You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.

“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”

“Whatever you want, baby."

Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction.

Now, you want something else.

You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either.

His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all.

Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.

"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."

Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken.

Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration.

He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.

Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie.

"Should ya be doin' that right now?"

There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.

"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"

The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.

"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"

You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.

"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."

"Deal," he says without hesitation.

"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening.

He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.

"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."

Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.

"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart.

You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.

Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open.

"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."

Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit.

Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast.

Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap.

"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"

You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—

Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically.

"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.

What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now.

And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.

Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric.

He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.

"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.

"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."

"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."

He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.

"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."

But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.

"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.

You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something.

"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his.

You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation.

"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now."

Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.

His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back.

So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.

"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.

"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."

Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead.

"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."

Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough.

Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.

“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you.

It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.

But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.

"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.

Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.

Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.

And still so mouthy.

“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”

"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?"

It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.

"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."

Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight.

His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.

“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”

“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?”

Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.

“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”

SATURDAY

"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."

You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.

And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.

Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content.

He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs.

That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.

But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.

He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.

His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once.

Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you.

"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens.

"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"

You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers.

Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.

"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.

"Huh?" you ask dumbly.

"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh.

"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."

Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.

"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"

And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.

God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.

Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.

"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."

Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath.

You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement.

He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you.

But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.

You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.

“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"

Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.

“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”

Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.

Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.

Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves.

His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip.

The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him.

And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat.

You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.

"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."

How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.

Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite.

But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.

Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment.

And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking.

Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.

Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.

“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”

It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.

At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.

His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again.

Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation.

Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.

Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.

“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach.

Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.

"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away.

His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.

"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.

It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives.

“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.”

You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.

“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”

He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.

You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful.

When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free.

Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.

Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.

Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.

He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately.

After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.

"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."

The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache.

You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.

Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth.

"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."

He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.

“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."

You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.

Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.

"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"

Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that.

His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does.

Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.

You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would.

And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.

You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could.

It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.

"Yeah, I do."

thanks for reading! 💕

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel miller #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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bigfatbimbo · 2 months

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silly low effort Sir Pentious x reader headcanons —

I don’t write much for him but I know that you Sir Pentious fans are malnourished and starving so eat the fuck up. Also he’s a silly guy so he fits right in with my silly low effort headcanons series. Let’s start off with the funny shit, this bitch is dramatic as fuck. Like say you bail on hanging out with him to go do something else, even if you actually have to do it. He will literally be so sad you’d think he was dying all over again (hah.) And it’s not even to make you feel bad, he’s just genuinely that sad. ”Oh…yes that’s okay, I suppose. I’ll just sit here and… and wait for you to get back. And think about us together… hanging out.” Like he’s so poutty in such a genuine way it’s actually sad because his eyes got all watery and his mouth curls down in a comedically wavey frowns as he crosses his arms and turns away from you. He’s literally so sensitive in general, actually. Like if you make one single harmless comment about how his hat looks crooked, he’s literally thinking about it for the rest of the day. You will literally catch him adjusting his hat every ten seconds and unconvincingly smiling at you and acting like he’s not that self conscious. More on that, he literally needs a crazy amount of reassurance all the time. Like he lives for your compliments. He’s so easily flustered by them too if you genuinely catch him off guard. Like maybe he’s just talking and you’re looking at him totally adoringly, and he notices and goes “What?” And maybe your like “Your smile is so cute.” He’s literally falling backwards, darting his eyes to the side, and not even trying to hide the way his face flushed. “Oh! My dear, i’m glad you—uhm— feel that way. Well, I have to go! Thank you, um, your smile… as well.” He’s also the clingiest mother fucker in the entire world. Like hats off to him, he should an award or something. It’s not even necessarily that he’s touchy or anything, which he is, though. But really he’s really just always lurking around you. He’s constantly following you around like a lost puppy, wherever you go just trailing closely behind. Whatever you’re doing, shit around the house, errands around town, he’s just happy to be by you. He’s also like a fantastic listener. Like he is processing everything you’re saying, and not even on purpose either. But like weeks from now you’re be talking about something and he’ll link it back to some other thing you literally brought up once. ”Oh that reminds me! Did you ever get your laundry machine fixed, because i’m quite good with mechanics so I could—“ And you interrupt him with like “what the fuck? I brought that up like one time a few weeks ago?” And he kinda just blushes and shrugs because honestly he’s not even trying to attain this much information about you, he just likes hearing your voice and in return pays special attention to everything you say. He likes hugs and cuddling so much but he’s so shy about asking for it! I see him as a big spoon or a little spoon, to be honest. Like big spoon because by nature, he’s such a giver. Absolutely anything to make himself useful is a must. So sheltering you and making you feel safe is his first priority. But when you spoon him?? He probably cries. Actually no, he actually cries. Because he is so not used to feeling wanted or deserving of love Vox i’m looking at you, you piece of shit it’s all your fault so when you just wrap your arms around him and pull him close, he can’t contain himself! All because you’re actively showing that you want him and love him, he’s tearing up and mumbling ‘thank you’s. I’m sorry but Sir Pentious would literally treat you so good too. Like he’ll do actually anything for you. Your laundry needs done? He’s on it. Your hungry? He’ll just slither to the store for your favorite snacks. Your back hurts? Have a massage. He lives to please. Especially with you.

a/n — @chronically1online YEAH THATS RIGHT BITCH I DID THIS ONE FIRST. PFF. SHOWS YOU! WHATS UP?? WHATS UP NOW??? 😤😤

#that’s a joke btw #much love brother #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #inbox open #hazbin hotel fluff #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious x you #sir pentious fluff #hazbin hotel sir pentious #sir pentious #silly low effort headcanons

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moonstruckme · 6 months

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Hi! I'd copy-and-pasted this request into my doc to write it, but now I can't find it in my inbox! I don't think it was anonymous, so if this is your request and it somehow got deleted, I'm very sorry! Thank you for requesting, apologies for the wait, and hope you like it <3

hi love!!! Congratulations on 1,000 followers!!! I absolutely adore your writing and if your requests are open I’d love it if you could right something about poly marauders with a reader who’s non-binary or gender fluid. Maybe they just got together and the reader hasn’t came out to them yet or something. Idk you get all the writing freedom, of course if you don’t want to write it’s totally fine!!! Thanks anyway 🫶💗🫶💗 xoxo

cw: marauders unknowingly misrepresent reader's pronouns+gender

poly!marauders x nb!reader ♡ 1.1k words

“Sirius, no.” Remus rubs at his temples. “I will not mar you with a tattoo gun you bought from some bloke on the street.”

“Oh, don’t be such a wuss,” Sirius complains, sitting spread out on his bed. “It'll be fun, you can all do it!”

“I’m on board,” James says from his own bed. He’s levitating his shoes about the room idly. “Hey Pads, can we draw anything we want?”

Sirius ponders this for a moment. “If you do a dick, it has to be small, and I’m putting an arrow with your name next to it.”

James’ smile fades, and he lets the shoes drop. “You’re no fun.”

“I don’t know,” you say to Remus, looking up at him from your chosen spot on the floor of their dorm. “It’s his body, I say let him cover it in shitty tattoos if that’s what he wants.”

“Yes!” Sirius hops down from his bed to throw an arm around your shoulders, planting a kiss on your cheek. “That’s what I’m talking about, that’s my girl!”

You’d begun to glow at his over-the-top praise, but you dim at the last bit. Sirius must feel it; he looks over at you quizzically as Remus says for the fifth time, “That’s fine, but I won’t have anything to do with it.”

“Well, it’ll…” Sirius’ eyebrows furrow as he continues to watch you. You try to bury your discontent where he can’t see it, but once he catches a whiff of melancholy he becomes a dog with a bone. The levity slowly leeches from his voice. “It’ll be more fun if you all do it…Sorry, sweetheart, is everything alright?”

You don’t want the attention, but you can’t bring yourself to lie. “I didn’t mean to distract you,” you say softly, shoulders hunching forward. “Keep going.”

“No, that’s alright.” His slender fingers squeeze at your shoulder like he can tell you need the comfort. “It’s not actually important. What’s on your mind?”

You want to tell him. You want to tell all of them, you have for weeks, but is there ever a right time? When the boys had first asked you out, it felt too abrupt to say anything, like you were making a big deal out of nothing because they didn’t even know you all that well. But now you’ve turned serious faster than you could’ve seen coming, and they feel like they do know you that well. And the longer you go without telling them, the more like you feel like you’re keeping some dirty secret.

You should have just corrected them the first time they’d gotten your pronouns wrong. Each time feels like someone’s chipping away at your heart with a toothpick, the pain lessened by your surety in their good intentions but still very much there. It’s almost worse, now, to be on the precipice of falling in love with people who you don’t feel really know you, and it’s all your own fault.

This isn’t how you’d imagined the conversation coming about, but it might be the best chance you get for a while.

“I, uh.” You clear your throat, unsure if you should move out from under Sirius’ arm for this conversation but really not wanting to. “I don’t…listen, it’s not your fault, but I don’t really like it when you call me your girl.”

Sirius lets his arm drop to look at you properly, hurt flashing across his features. You take his hand, selfish thing that you are. “I mean it, it’s really not your fault.” It’s more plea than promise. “It’s just that I don’t—I don’t really see myself as a girl. I’m sorry.”

You watch confusion take hold in Sirius’ expression before letting your eyes flit to the other boys. James looks tentatively like he’s beginning to understand, and Remus’ face is carefully controlled. He leans his elbows on his knees, looking down at you.

“What do you mean by that, honey?”

You know the endearment is meant to soften the question, but you get all tense around the middle anyway.

“Just that…” You swallow, and James offers you a small smile of encouragement. “I don’t really see myself as any gender. It’s…it’s called nonbinary, I don’t know if you might’ve heard of it before? I’m really sorry I didn’t say something sooner.”

“Hey, that’s alright.” James kicks a foot out from his bed, nudging your leg gently. “I’m really glad you told us, angel. Thank you.”

You try to return his smile, chewing your lip.

“Merlin, I thought you meant you didn’t want to be our girl,” Sirius sighs, bumping your shoulder with his. “That would have been unacceptable. You can be our something-else, though, if you like.”

This is going well, you tell yourself. They’re being as kind as you’d always expected. Still, you don’t feel like they fully understand what you’re so clumsily trying to tell them.

“I get it if this changes things for you,” you say, and when you lean away from Sirius’ touch, he doesn’t chase you. “I know this is…you signed on for a girlfriend, not this.”

The gentle smile drops from James’ face. His eyebrows twitch together uncertainly. “We…what? No, we didn’t…we didn’t ‘sign on’ for anything like that. We signed on for you.”

“Darling,” Remus says, in that careful, measured voice that you can’t decide if you should be nervous about, “I don’t know a lot about this, so correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t the point that you’re still you? You’re just telling us how you’d like to be treated and understood, right?”

You take a second to run over his words in your head before nodding.

Everything about Remus has gone soft, from his eyes to the gentle uptilt of his mouth. “Then James is right. Nothing has changed. I mean, we can make any changes to our relationship that make you more comfortable, but nothing about how much we care for you is any different.”

“And look around you, sweetheart.” Laughter livens Sirius’ tone. “It’s not like any of us are only dating girls.”

A smile tugs at your lips. “That’s a good point,” you mumble, and he laughs, arm reclaiming its spot around your shoulders.

“Yeah, I actually do make those sometimes,” he teases. “Listen, gorgeous, I don’t think anyone here has a problem with you being whoever you are. Just tell us what you like to be called, and we will. And if there’s anything we do that you don’t like,” he adds, giving your shoulder a little squeeze, “you can tell us those things too.”

James nods, emphatic. “Exactly. We want to support you, angel. Thanks for telling us, but just keep talking to us when you can, okay?”

You have to bite down on your lip to contain the full scope of your smile. “Okay,” you promise him, overflowing with a gratitude that feels a lot like love. “Thanks. You guys are too sweet to me.”

Remus makes a pfft sound. “Dove, I cannot believe that is your standard for sweetness. You’ve set the bar far too low.”

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iateyourparents · 6 months

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hii I love your work 🙈🙈 can you do one with colby where the reader is a medium and the place is like really active?

medium | c.b.

pairing: colby brock x fem!medium!reader

summary: you’re a guest in sam and colby’s video.

warnings: use of y/n, the place they are exploring is totally made up by me, bad writing and grammar(sorry, english isn’t my first language)

an: thank you so much for this idea, i hope you’ll like it <3

“What’s up guys! It’s Sam and Colby!” Colby started video “Today we will be exploring this house” he pointed camera at the big white house behind him.

“It’s Mallory’s house.” Sam added ”The place where Mallory watched her family being murdered and then died there herself because of starvation.” he explained “People says she and her family to this day are there. Also, there’s a rumor that Mallory is waiting for the killer to come back to take her revenge. But we’ll tell you about it later!” he clapped his hands.

“But we’re not alone here.” Colby said and waved at you so you stood between them „For the first time ever, my girlfriend y/n will be investigating with us!”

“And it’s even more exciting because she is a medium.” sam moved his eyebrows suggestively and you laughed quietly “Y/n how are you feeling about it?”

“Excited, that will be the first time ever I will actually try to use my ‚gift’ intentionally.” you smiled at camera “I guess it won’t be hard since I already can feel this house.”

“Oh what do you feel?” Colby asked curiously.

“There is certainly something. I can’t really say yet if it’s good or how it feels about us being here but it’s not threatening.” you explained “I think it’s curious what we will do.”

“Good to know.” Sam smiled at you and then smiled mischievously at the camera and then at Colby “I have some surprise for you Colby.” he stated “When I was doing research I found some rumor that I didn’t tell you about.”

“What’s going on?” Colby already could tell he probably won’t like this.

“So like I said, there’s this rumor that, like you know, Mallory is waiting for her family’s killer to come back to have her revenge, but there’s also this thing that apparently she’s targeting mans that are similar to the killer.” he explained “And guess what? You have brown hair, blue eyes and you’re tall and pale, just like Many!” he cheered and you laughed while Colby sighed with resignation.

“Great” he said ironically „Let’s go, we can’t keep Mallory waiting to hurt me.”

“Don’t worry, I will save you.” you joked and he smiled softly at you and kissed your cheek.

“I feel safer now.”

|||

After your guide left you alone in the house you started to feel stronger emotions.

“I’m not sure why but now I feel everything stronger. It’s like guide was calming them.” you explained to the camera.

“They already were familiar with guide so maybe he made Mallory feel safer and now, without him here, she keeps her guard up.” Sam offered and you agreed that it was possible.

„So y/n, what do you feel, can you see something?” Colby pointed camera at you again.

„Yeah, I feel that here are few people but I can only see one. It’s a little girl standing next to the staircase. She’s observing us but she’s nice one.” you assured them „ I think it’s Mallory’s sister, Naya?”

You could see the little girl nodding and you smiled softly at her.

„Yes, it’s her.” you said „I have no idea who is it but there’s one spirit that is the strongest and definitely isn’t the nicest. Not bad or threatening but also isn’t inviting.” you stated „I can feel strong emotions like sadness and nostalgy. I think they might be trapped here.”

„That’s interesting.” Sam looked impressed „So only Naya is with us in the room?”

„No, there’s at least two more spirits but only Naya let me see her.”

„Okay, so I think we can start with a spirit box.” Colby offered.

|||

You were going from room to room and now you had only two more rooms left.

Mallory’s bedroom and playroom where Mallory was left by a murderer to die from starvation.

You were about to come into her bedroom when you started feeling weird.

„I feel uncomfortable.” you said and boys said they also felt like that „I don’t think she likes us very much.”

„So Mallory is in her room?” Colby asked and finally you all went into the said room.

„Yeah, I think she was here the whole time because I felt her before but only now I feel her presence so much.” you said.

„Okay, let’s start.” Sam pointed camera at himself and started talking „Hey Mallory, we’re sorry if you don’t like us but we’re coming in peace. We only want to share your story with the world. We don’t want to mess with you or disrespect you.”

You all heard knocks.

„Thank you for listening to us.” Colby said „We will use this box, it’s called spirit box and you can talk to it and it will communicate it to us.”

„I’m not sure what’s going on but I just started to feel really weird.” you stated and Sam pointed the camera at you „I feel uneasy, like something is about to happen. I think she doesn’t like the spirit box.”

„Oh, we are sorry Mallory, but we promise it won’t do anything to you, it only will help us to communicate with you.” Sam explained.

Colby turned on the spirit box and it immediately said „hurt”.

„Killer hurt you?” Sam asked and box said yes after a moment.

„Do you want a revenge on Many?” Sam asked and immediately after he said killer’s name you all could hear thud, like someone punched the wall.

Boys continued to ask questions but you keep quietly trying to breathe evenly. The feeling of uneasiness only got stronger and you felt as you were choked. Suddenly it stopped but the uncomfortable feeling stayed.

Your intuition was alarming you and you looked ay Colby. You could feel something you couldn’t name.

Your head started to pound and you felt need to sit down. You sat down on the floor and boys looked at you with concern.

„What happened?” Colby stood next you „You okay?”

„Yeah, I just felt like I need to sit down or I will fall.” you explained „My head hurts.”

„Do you want us to do a break? We can go outside for a moment.” Colby offered and wanted to help you up but you only waved him off.

„No, I’m okay. It’s getting better. We can continue but I need to sit for a moment, I don’t trust my legs right now.” you laughed and boys nodded but you could see they were keeping careful eye on you. They went back to asking questions.

You actually started to feel better but you couldn’t shake off the bad feeling that something was about to happen.

„Guys.” you said alarmed after a moment when you felt something „We should go to the other room. She doesn’t want us here.” just as you said it, the spirit box said „yes” and „get out”.

„Alright, lets go to the playroom.”

You changed rooms and started investigating. You still felt uncomfortable and your headache was coming back even harder but you said nothing not wanting to interrupt their conversation with Naya.

Suddenly Colby hissed „Fuck, something scratched me!” he explained and lifted his shirt showing two red lines running down his stomach.

You looked at him concerned but before you could ask if he’s okay your vision started to get blurry and you lost balance and if Colby wasn’t next you you would fall.

„Hey, hey, you with us?” you could hear concern in Sam’s voice while Colby carefully sat with you on the floor.

„Yeah, I just felt this uneasiness and headache when suddenly my vision became blurry and I couldn’t keep my balance.” you explained, blinking to make your vision clearer.

Then you felt something new and somehow you knew what that meant.

„Something is trying to target Colby.” you said and boys looked surprised „I think it’s Mallory. Sam, you said she’s targeting people having similarities with the killer?”

„Yes.” Sam confirmed while looking with concern at Colby.

„I’m not sure how but I think I already knew she was targeting him and I unconsciously was trying to shield him somehow but when she scratched him it also affected me.”

„Shield me?” Colby asked with confusion.

„I can’t explain this but when I see or feel a spirit I have some control over him. It’s like authority thing. It knows I know they are there so they aren’t sure about me. She must feel I care about you and it was harder for her to attack you but she tried.” you said and boys looked impressed.

„Amanda said something similar last time.” Sam said „Spirits doesn’t like mediums because they are afraid of their abilities. It must affect them somehow.”

„Yeah” you nodded.

„Are you feeling okay now? Do you want to stop, take a break?” Colby looked at you concerned but you denied.

„I’ll be okay but we should work faster and get out of here. Mallory doesn’t like us and I think she’s trying to hurt you.” you said, last part mainly to Colby who just nodded but didn’t stood up from where he was holding you behind you.

Sam understood what Colby wanted to do and also sat on the floor.

„We will continue investigating sitting in case y/n feel worse.” Sam informed viewers and you felt grateful.

„Mallory, what y/n said was true?” Colby asked „Do you want to hurt me but she’s stopping you?” you could hear a thud in answer. It was loud and very close to you three. „Is it because I remind you of Many?” again thud, this time even louder.

„We are sorry that Colby reminds you ab…” something interrupted Sam’s. And by something you meant a weird scratching sound that was dangerously close to Colby’s back.

„What the hell?” Colby looked at the floor behind him but there was nothing, then he suddenly yelped and his head leaned back, then he said „Something just…like pulled me by hair.”

„What the hell?” you narrowed your eyebrows and looked around the room „Mallory is angry.”

„Should we go?” Sam looked at you but before you could say anything doors to the playroom closed themselves „What the fuck.”

„I think she doesn’t want us to leave just yet.” Colby furrowed his brows and you heard knocks.

„Okay, Mallory were you the one who pulled Colby’s hair?” you asked after Sam turned on the spirit box. It immediately confirmed.

You wanted to say something more but you started to feel nauseous and your headache was back. You felt like you couldn’t move or even open your mouth, your vision became blurry and you couldn’t hear anything, just ringing.

And when you were in this state Mallory again attacked Colby, this time making bigger three scratches on his arm.

„Hey, what’s with y/n?” Sam asked concerned after they inspected Colby’s wound. Colby looked at you and immediately tried to shake you off this trance. He succeeded but only after few seconds.

„We should get out” you said panicked. You felt very off and you could feel yourself shaking „I can’t explain it but if we stay here someone’s gonna get hurt badly.” you stated and felt like someone placed their hand on your neck. You reached there and touch was gone but Sam gasped.

„Your neck, it has handprint.” he showed it to the camera and Colby immediately got up and helped you. You started taking your things when there was next thud.

„Mallory and everyone else, you can’t follow us out of the house and you can’t hurt us. You are not allowed to.” Colby said sternly and you all walked out of the house and when Sam reached to close the door after you, they closed themselves.

„Holy shit, I’m not sure if we ever got so much evidence.” Sam sighed and looked at the camera that was still recording „I think it was caught on camera how they closed.”

He stopped recording and you get into the car where boys decided to record outro and then Colby drove to your hotel.

„Are you sure you okay?” Colby asked for the hundred time since you got to your room.

„Yes, Colbs, I’m good.” you kissed his cheek.

„Promise me you will never again try to shield me. Not if it’s gonna affect you like that.” he asked „It pained me to even look at how you looked there, it was like you were about to leave your body. Don’t scare me like that ever again please.” he kissed your forehead and hugged you tighter.

You rolled your eyes, like you could ever let something happen to him if you could stop that.

„Can’t promise you that Colby, I love you too much to let something get to you.” you kissed him.

#colby brock x reader #colby brock #colby #sam and colby #snc #katrina stuart #sam golbach

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i9messi · 10 months

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Speak Now — Max Verstappen

You're Max’s best friend. When he announces he's gonna get married you can't believe it. Is it too late and inopportune to let him know you're in love with him?

Word count — 1,8k

a/n: happy ending!!

max’s masterlist

"I'm going to get married. She said yes."

The call seemed to end abruptly, but you knew very well that Max was on the other side of the line, waiting for your answer. A bittersweet taste had settled in your mouth and tears began to build up in your eyes, all as you thought of what response to give. A best friend would be happy for him, a best friend would just want to see him fulfill his dreams. However, things were complicated. You felt sad, broken and submerged in deep pain.

In your stupidest dreams, you’d hoped Max would finally notice you. You’d been there, you’d listened to him and advised him every time he fought with his girlfriend. You pretended to be happy when you saw them coming back. Max had gotten so used to your presence that you had become invisible to his eyes. You were just a friend to him.

In part, it was no surprise that Max had proposed to his partner. You had assumed that sooner or later the relationship was going to become much stronger. Still, you didn’t expect to do it so soon.

"Are you there?"

"Oh, yes, Max. I’m sorry." You swallowed saliva. "I’m happy for you."

When you closed your eyes, it didn’t seem right. Max didn’t have to marry her. It wasn’t the way it should have been.

Seven months later and after much anxiety on your part, it was finally the wedding day. You had hesitated to go, mainly because your invitation had rarely never arrived. Max wasn’t aware of the way the bride had excluded you, and you hadn’t told him either. Daniel was the one who insisted multiple times on going together. In his company you had reached the beautiful place where Max was going to get married, and your eyes connected with the rest of the guests. The bride’s family were dressed in pastel.

"When the priest says speak now or forever hold your peace you have to appear abruptly and say that he is your man. Wave me down a little early so I can get my cell phone and record it." Danny joked, although it wasn’t really being a total joke, a small part of him expected the ceremony to be canceled. You denied with your head.

"I’ll behave myself, it’s Max’s day."

Daniel let out a sigh.

"I’ll go get alcohol, we need it a lot."

As the Australian disappeared from your sight, you were left alone, looking everywhere. You could feel curious looks on you. Some of the bride’s friends looked at you with raised eyebrows, while whispering among them. Barely five minutes passed, when two of them decided to come over to talk to you.

"I didn’t know you were invited," said the first.

"If I remember correctly, the bride didn’t invite you."

To save you, Daniel returned to your side, with two glasses of some liquid. The girls came back with their friends' group and your friend offered you a drink.

"You need it more than I do."

You hadn’t seen Max yet and you wanted to cry. So you got the drink and tasted the alcohol in your lips. You were just gonna have a drink, you didn’t want to be a sad drunk that day. You’d save the tears for later, when you were in the privacy of your home.

"Why do I feel like I’m being practically kicked out of here? I know I wasn’t invited, but I don’t have to be treated like I broke in either."

"The thing is, it’s painful to see the person you love marry someone else. It’s obvious how you feel about Max and nobody expected you to actually decide to come here."

"He’s my best friend, as much as it hurts, I want to see him happy."

"Even when he's happy with someone else?"

You nodded, "Even to someone other than me."

Daniel Ricciardo shook his head, "I’m told Max is nervous. I think it would do him good to talk to you. You’re the only one who knows how to calm him when he’s like this."

After a bad race, you were always there to have a conversation with him. Max Verstappen was a self-confident person, but he also got easily mad when things didn’t go the way he had planned. There was a lot of pressure on him to do his best. Even when you weren’t in the same country as him, one phone call from you was enough to get him in a better mood.

You nodded and went to where Max was supposedly to be. You knocked on the door and took a breath, that’s when you heard his voice saying you could pass. The vision completely shattered you. Max was wearing a black suit, one that fit him perfectly. He was even more beautiful than usual, he was the perfect groom. It was just a few minutes before he went out and tied himself up for the rest of his life with another woman. Realization caused you a new wound in your heart.

"Max."

"Here you are, lieverd. I’ve been looking for you for hours."

He came practically running to your side and melted you into a hug. Having him around and at the same time so far away, you ended up breaking. You started shaking and crying in his arms, it was impossible to hold him much longer. Max finally heard your sobs and noticed your tremor, his concern grew.

"What's wrong?"

When you didn’t answer, he took you by the face and your eyes met.

"Tell me, what's wrong?"

It was too late. You couldn’t say you loved him, it was his wedding. You wanted to oppose it, you wanted to yell at the priest that they couldn’t get married. That Max was marrying the wrong girl. Yet you couldn’t do it. You loved him enough to want him to be happy.

You shook your head, "I’m sorry, Max. I have to go, I just... I hope you're happy."

"Wait!"

You ignored him and ran as fast as you could, away from him. You found an empty room and with the curtains closed, the atmosphere of the room seemed dull and melancholy. You knelt on the floor and allowed yourself to cry. It didn’t matter anymore, the person you loved the most in your life was going to marry someone else. After months of waiting, Max was going to say yes in a few minutes.

"Lieverd."

"Don’t call me that."

You didn’t know when he had gotten to where you were. Not caring about the dust in the room, he knelt on the floor next to you. His suit was going to be ruined because of you.

"What’s wrong with you? Why are you running? Why are you crying?"

You looked at him, "Don’t tell me you don’t know, Max. Everybody knows."

"Knows what?"

"I’m in love with you and it hurts so much."

Max was puzzled by your statement. Hell, you thought, why did you have to talk? Couldn’t you have waited, or at least shut up for the rest of your life?

"Look, I know I’m being selfish and it wasn’t the way this day was supposed to be. It’s your day, it’s your wedding and you just have to be focused on your wife-to-be."

"Are you in love with me?"

"Max..."

"Answer."

Max held his breath and so did you. There was no room for lies.

"Yes, I am. I have loved you for years."

"And why didn’t you ever tell me?"

"Because I know you don’t feel the same way, and I understand. But I don’t want to lose you as a friend, and I certainly didn’t want you looking at me like you are now." you closed your eyes and opened them again, Max was looking at you with those eyes that you had fallen in love with. "It doesn’t matter anymore, it doesn’t change anything. Nothing’s gonna change, telling you just made everything worse."

"Since when do you feel this?”

"Max..." his gaze let you know that he needed you to answer his question. "I’ve loved you since we met, and I think the most tragic part about this is that I don’t think I can stop even if I wanted to."

There was a prolonged silence. You let out a sigh, you had ruined everything.

"I’m sorry, Max. I’m sorry for everything, I’ll leave and you’ll never see me again."

Max stopped you before you could get up, his hand held yours in a strong grip. You could feel the warmth of his hand and you could almost hear your own heartbeat.

"No, don’t go away."

"Max."

"What makes you think I don’t feel the same way about you? What makes you think I’m happily marrying her?

"You’re not happy? I don’t understand... it’s your marriage, you and her—"

"Stop, listen to me. I know that I was supposed to marry her, I’ve thought several times about what was supposed to be best for me. I thought I loved her and she was the one... but I can’t stop thinking about you. Funny, isn’t it? Because while I’m thinking about you, she doesn’t even occupy even a fraction of my mind. While I have been waiting in that room, I have thought of everything."

"I know now she’s not the woman I want to marry, that’s you. It’s always been you. And now that you’re saying this, that you’re in love with me- I can’t know that the woman I’m in love with also feels the same way about me, and that with my decision I’m breaking her heart."

You couldn’t understand anything that was going on. It almost seemed like a dream, finally someone seemed to hear your prayers.

"But you’re going to marry her, she’s waiting for you. The guests..."

"I don’t care about anyone, I only care about you. I love you. Only you."

You smiled, "Max, are you sure?"

"I am."

And saying that, he grabbed your cheeks and kissed you. It was the first kiss, his lips felt exactly as you had dreamed. It was a sweet and desperate kiss, two lovers who despite the tragic events they had experienced, finally let their hearts be heard. You couldn’t believe it, Max felt the same. You grabbed him harder, never wanting him to separate from you. You wanted the moment to last a lifetime, because you had never been happier. When you walked away, you smiled at him and his eyes shone.

"I love you, Lieverd."

Just a couple of minutes later, Daniel helped the two of you escape from the horrified looks from everyone in the room.

#max verstappen x you #max verstappen headcanons #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen #verstappen #verstappen one shots #f1 #max verstappen f1 #f1 x reader #f1 one shot

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pricesbeltbuckle · 4 months

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I just started reading y’all’s work and I’m really enjoying it, I don’t know if you ladies write hybrid 141 but if you do I was wondering if you would write and wolf hybrid-soap and a bunny hybrid-reader where she’s a new medic and soap is in some need for some stitches. He can’t help his attraction to the pretty little bunny and he can’t help himself when he snatches her in his arms and sets her in his lap so she could “reach” his face a little better. Breathing in her wonderful intoxicating scent and rubbing her fluffy ears because it “makes him feel better” while she ditches him up?

If this isn’t y’all’s cup of tea that’s totally fine, I’m sure I’ll come up with another ask that mine peak interest

Bunny - John 'Soap' Mactavish

Pairing: Hybrid-wolf!John 'Soap Mactavish x hybrid-Bunny!Fem Medic Reader

Warnings: Hybrids? Sugestive content?, Fuff MDNI 18+

Soap had a rough fall today while training, now you’ve heard of Soap. Tall,Handsome, and respectful. So when he was assigned as your patient you were ecstatic. What you didn’t know though? Well A. He’s a wolf and B. Has the fattest crush on you, but how could you even know that?

When Soap walked into your room he took note that you were a bunny, he was very fond of that. He went to sit down on the bed and waited for you to examine him. “Alright let’s see…Clean cut over your eye definitely need stitches, how’d this happen?” “Ah, Just training lass nothing special.” He smiled at you and your face turned a little red. You turned around to grab your medical kit for the stitches.

“You need to be more careful, any closer and you would’ve gone blind.” “Hm..You worried little bunny?” You stuttered for a second. “Well-Yeah I’m your doctor so yes.” He chuckled as he picked you up and sat you on his lap.

“What are you-” “Shh, just so you got a better view yeah? I’ll hold you nice and tight. Promise.” Your whole entire face was red by now and you just let him hold you as you finished cleaning it and began to stitch. You felt his calloused hands run up and down your ears. “Soap…Why are you playing with my ears?” “Calms me down, cute when they twitch.” You rolled your eyes and just let him do what he pleased so you could get the job done. Then you noticed he started breathing your scent in, like some sorta good smelling candle. You chuckled as you finished up the stitches. “Alright big boy I’m done.” “Oh no…My stomach hurts and I think I have a fever…Darn I’ll just have to stay here like this.” You scoffed and rolled your eyes as you tried to hop off of his lap but he did not comply. “Soap!! You can just tell me sometime and you can come to my barracks okay?” He then let you down off his lap and his tail slightly wagged happily he got up off the bed and nodded.

“Tonight. 11:30 P.M. be up bunny.” He placed a small kiss to your forehead and in that moment you realize how tall he actually was and how terrifying that is. But you just nodded as he pet your ears one last time and walked out. Man you could not wait till he stopped by later tonight.

I actually really liked this, AU maybe…😋

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taurussbabe · 1 year

Note

Heyyy!! so I do not know if you are accepting requests but if you are can make Charles x reader wave she is a newly formed doctor of formula one and he does not trust her much until Charles gets hurt and needs care which forces the two to approach

It's not about liking

a/n: thank you so much for this request anon! absolutely loved writing this, hope you like it! word count: 1k pairing: Charles Leclerc x doctor!reader Tw: car crash; mentions of ferrari and their dnf's

“Hey Y/n!” Pierre said as he walked towards you, leaning in to give you a hug “How are you?”

“Hey, I’m good” you answered and greeted the French man, heading to your office. Meanwhile Pierre was talking to his friend “You still don’t like her?” he asked Charles.

“It’s not about liking, I just think that’s weird they hired someone so young and unexperienced.”

“You should give her a chance, she’s really nice” Pierre yelled before entering the Alpine garage.

You were watching the race on your office when you saw a car lose control, roll over and hit the barriers. It was never a good feeling whenever someone had an accident. You couldn’t see whose car it was, only that it was one of the Ferraris.

Soon enough, you got a call saying it was charles’ car, the call was also letting you know that he as coming for a checkup. You knew charles didn’t trust you enough and that obviously affected you, but you also knew that this was your chance to prove yourself to him.

Someone came in with charles and helped him sit on the bed.

“Ok, I’m gonna need you to take your helmet off, please, do you want me to help?” you asked softly but he didn’t answer you, just took off his helmet and balaclava.

You just thanked him and asked if he knew where he was, and what had happened and a series of other questions, ruling out concussion.

“Ok, look, I think you have some fractur here, so we have to go to the hospital.”

“We?” his voice came out rougher than usual, probably because of the scream he let out on radio and because he hasn’t even said a word since he came in the office.

“Yes, we, I’m your doctor if you get hurt on service, so let’s go.”

You were in the waiting room, you had talked to the doctors, and they were now doing some tests on Charles. Soon, a doctor came in announcing he was being put on a cast.

“Hey.” He said as he entered the room.

“Hey, how are you feeling?”

“Better” he answered as you head towards the street, immediately feeling the cold breeze hit your face. “Thank you, by the way.”

“Oh, no problem, I was just doing my job.”

“Yeah, but your job is to be my doctor, not to be nice to me when I was a total jerk to you earlier.” A small smile crept onto his face as he said it and you realized he was truly sorry.”

“It’s fine, you were upset, I understand.”

“Well, you don’t have too, so, I’m sorry, I really am.” You smiled at him and nodded softly.

You were talking outside before saying to charles “Hey, look I actually live nearby, we can walk there and I can drive us both to track, if you want to, of course.” You offered.

“Yeah, that would be great, if you don’t mind, of course.”

He let you lead the way, considering he didn’t know the way to your place. “Hey, thanks, by the way, the other doctor may have mentioned that the fracture could have gone unnoticed easily, but you saw it, so thanks.” He knew those words meant a lot to you and made you extremely proud, yet you still remained professional.

“Again, just doing my job.” You said and shivered from the cold.

“Wear my jacket.”

“What? No, of course not, it’s yours.” He forced the jackets onto your shoulders and smiled.

“Keep it.” He smiled.

The rest of the walk to your place went easy-going, and the conversation kept flowing easily.

After you reached your car, you started driving you both to track, making a joke how ‘it wasn’t a Ferrari, but you hoped it would be good enough for him’ just to tease him. Once you reached the track, charles got out of the car and asked if you wanted any company, but you sent him home to rest, because he definitely needed it. And without even realizing it, that night he went home with a smile on his face, despite the horrible crash he had been on. Maybe Pierre was right, maybe he should have given you a chance earlier, maybe you were nice, just like he said.

After a week, you were now in Spain, travelling with the drivers, when Charles approach you.

“Hello” he said in a singing way as he got closer.

“Hi, ready to watch the race instead of being in it?” you ask him, knowing he would be pissed, but instead, he just smiled and nodded. “You only have to miss two races, it’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Hey, I was meaning to ask you, do you want to watch the race from the garage, so you don’t have to be alone watching it?”

“Oh, that’s very sweet of you to offer, but I have to be in the office in case someone needs me.” You could see his expression changing until his face suddenly lit up again.

“I can watch it there with you, I’m not needed in the garage anyway, if you don’t mind of course.”

“Yeah, that would be nice.” You smiled at him and he smiled back at you, his dimples appearing as he did so.

That weekend and the next one, charles joined you in your office, as you both watched the race together, earing some looks and jokes from, mostly, Pierre and Lando.

“You like her, mate, just ask her out already.” Said max as he and Lando tried, unsuccessfully, to convince Charles to ask you out.

“I don’t think she likes me, I was very rude to her before.”

“Mate, I’ve seen the way she looks at you, she likes you.” Lando said, which made him blush and look down.

“Charles” you called him out.

He turned around at the mention of his name and smiled when noticed it was you who was calling him.

“Hey, how are you?” you asked the Monegasque in front of you.

“I’m good, so much better, thanks to my amazing doctor.” You laughed before continuing with the conversation.

“Listen, I don’t know if I’m crossing any boundaries or anything, but would you like to maybe go out sometime?”

“Yes” he said very quickly, and then realized how desperate it sounded so he just said again, this time more calm “I would love to.”

Turns out, Pierre was 100% right about you, you were indeed amazing.

#charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x female reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #taurussbabe #charles leclerc fluff

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girlboypersonthingy · 1 year

Note

could I request a very fluffy keith x reader headcanons where they're having a bonding moment (hehe, I cradled you into my arms) because they ended up on a planet during a mission and are waiting for rescue? you don't have to do this if you don't like it of course!

HELLO YOU ARE MY FIRST REQUEST ANON AND ILYSM 🥰 yes I love love love this idea. Also, i had a hard time writing this as headcanons so I decided to write it as like a headcanon/imagine hybrid kinda thing. I hope that’s cool… sorry I’m new to writing this stuff. ALSO this turned out so long I got carried away soRRYYY. Enjoy~

Ps: plz plz plz request more. Somebody, anybody? Thnx 💋

So…y’all are stuck on a planet where the atmosphere is mostly made up of sulfur so it’s not breathable for humans like you

Keith would be pacing non stop, trying to get in contact with the team. He’s so mad his face is nearly as red as his armor.

You are much less worried, knowing that brainiac Pidge would find y’all eventually

It was supposed to be an easy mission, just responding to a distress signal. You and Keith were sent together bc you two work really well together, but when the galra swooped in, you knew it was a setup to steal the red lion.

Of course, Keith took them all out but not without red taking a couple heavy blows

Red needed to rest now that the imminent threat had been neutralized. The lion fought hard without help from the others and would not respond to either of you…and Keith was not handling it well

“C’mon red! You’re gonna give up on me now?! Ugh, you really are the most temperamental lion! You’re such a brat…”

The tense but strong chemistry between Keith and his lion was always something that intrigued you. They really were meant to be.

He eventually gives up trying to talk to red, sitting beside you on the ground.

You and Keith weren’t really close but you trained together nearly every day and you physically complimented each other very well. You always had each others back.

Besides training, you didn’t see him all that much. He likes to skip meals and take late night showers. It’s almost like he’s been avoiding you for a while now

With you around, Keith is all bite and no bark. Sure, he’ll grab and push you around while training but actually having a conversation with you??? Hell nah. Keith no likey talking.

He usually corrects the others’ form and posture and gives advice when training with the them, but not with you. Instead he gives you a lot of thumbs up and small, proud smirks.

Whenever you try to talk to him, you’re lucky if you get any words out of him. Usually, it’s just hums of agreement or head nods.

You think Keith doesn’t like you or finds you annoying with how quiet he is around you

Not having the same armor as the paladins, you were finding your suit to be too thin for the climate on this planet. You were shivering.

Keith notices this immediately but stays still, unsure of how to help you. If he had his jacket rn, he’d totally toss it at you nonchalantly

And suddenly he’s grabbing your hand and pulling you off the ground and along with him.

“Where are we going?” He doesn’t respond, just let’s your hand go but keeps walking, expecting you to follow and you do.

He glances back to check that you’re still there and notices you limping ever so slightly. You’re trying not to let him see this bc you don’t want to piss him off more than he already is.

With Keith piloting, there was no where for you to be in his lion besides standing behind his chair. As he dodged attacks from the galra, you had been thrown around a bit.

He stops walking, making you nearly crash into the back of him.

He turns to you, refusing to even look at you before he sighs loudly. You feel guilty, not wanting to burden him with taking care of you.

“You’re hurt.” “No I’m fine.” “No, you’re limping.” “It’s fine, I can keep walking.”

He turns his back to you and just stands there, hands at his sides. You’re unsure of what to do or say until he looks back at you with a straight face.

“Hop on my back.” “No, Keith. I can walk.” “Just let me carry you.” “No. I said I’m fine. Really, I-“ He cuts you off.

“God dammit, (Y/N), you’re just as stubborn as red! You’re limping and you’re shivering and you’re lying to my face about it. I can tell you need some help, IM OFFERING YOU HELP. Now let me give you a lift to some shelter or SO HELP ME-“

You’re stunned, not because he was lowkey being an ass but because he’s never said so many words to you at one time.

Keith is the epitome of “if a boy is being mean or bullying you, it’s bc he likes you”

He’s talking to you like he was when he first found the red lion and was like “it’s me…Keith. I AM YOUR P A L A D I N.”

Mf is lowkey so mean to you sometimes but he’s not trying to be mean, you just make him feel weird and tingly inside and it embarrasses him and that makes him mad. He’s mad that he doesn’t know how to properly communicate with you without sounding stupid. He’s mad at himself, not at you tho

Dude just doesn’t know how to deal with his feelings

You hop up on his back, quickly wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. His hands grip the back of your knees and he trudges forward.

He carries you until he finds a small dim cave, hoping the shelter would keep you warm. He lets go of your legs without warning, making you slip off him. As you land on your feet, you hiss at the pain in your knee.

As he turns to you, you can barely see him but his face looks different now.

You can see his eyes are wide and his mouth is slightly hanging open

He never looks you in the eye and always has an annoyed and smug look on his face when you’re around. So seeing his face soften with concern and guilt for YOU made you freeze up.

“S-sorry.” He mumbles before holding out his hand to you. You’re confused like ??? What is this? What do you want me to do with this?

If there were more light in here, you’d see his face turning red as he’s stepping closer to you until you’re side by side. He slips his arm around your waist and gently lowers you to the ground.

As your butt meets the ground, you stretch out your leg and rub your knee, huffing in pain. Now that he knew you were hurt, no reason to act like you weren’t.

He sat along side you, your bodies still up against each other. He moves his arm from your waist to your shoulders, pulling you close.

Keith never touched you unless you were training together or you were in danger and needed his help so this physical contact with him made your heart go AFTHNJDFH ❤️‍🔥

The piggy back ride and the helping you to the ground were normal for him but him holding you close like this…omfg

Keith is slowly shutting down from embarrassment and nervousness. You can hear his breathing speed up as he’s praying that the others will find y’all soon or he might pass out

You lean into him, shivering still. His hand rubs up and down your arm in an attempt to warm you up.

Noticing that this isn’t working, he lets you go and scoots to sit behind you. He pulls you against his chest as he wraps his arms around you, your arms now pinned under his.

“Thanks.” You say to him before leaning back against him more, letting your head fall back on his shoulder.

Just as you’re getting comfy…

“Keith? Come in, Keith? Hello?”

You can faintly hear Shiro’s voice over the comms in Keith’s helmet. You tilt your head back more to look up at Keith’s face, he looks relieved but slightly disappointed…as if he didn’t want this moment to end so soon.

As he responds, he keeps his arms around you tightly, his hands gently rubbing your upper arms and you just cant look away from him now.

He held you against him for what felt like hours but it was really only like 10 minutes until Lance pokes his head in the cave, a loud “AAWWWW” coming from him.

Keith tilted his head back and let out a loud groan. Of all people to come save y’all…LANCE???

“They’re cold.” “Oh suuurrre.” “THEY ARE! Tell him, (Y/N).” “Yeah, I’m freezing.”

Lance flashes you both a snarky grin before Keith stands, pulling you up slowly.

“Then if it’s no big deal, I can carry (Y/N) back.” “No!” Keith responds quickly before he picks you up bridal style.

You’re surprised he can handle your weight in this position. Sure he was strong but piggy back would’ve been an easier option.

But you weren’t complaining…and neither was he ❤️‍🔥 (and Lance is lowkey like 🥹 as he follows behind you guys)

#voltron #voltron x reader #voltron x you #voltron legendary defender #vld #keith vld #keith kogane #keith voltron #keith x reader #vld fandom #vld keith #keith kogane x reader

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vampsquerade · 10 months

Note

i need some huge konig comfort because im so upset :(

dude of course! i’m so sorry for getting to this a little late, but i hope you’re feeling better being upset is never fun and how long i took probably didn’t help you :c wishing you the best and lord of love

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

König x GN!Reader: Righting Someone’s Wrong

Trigger Warnings: angst with a good ending, hurt/comfort, accidental stalking(?), scars, failed dates, kissing, embracing, anxiety, apologies, threatening language, use of Y/N

Life has a really shitty way of having to balance things within the universe for everybody in the world. Some people tend to get very lucky while others are given the opposite side of the coin. Day in and day out, every second, imaginary numbers would change sequence to infinite possibilities and change the probability outcome. You were convinced it would just stay that way for you forever; today was a day with some terrible odds. Everything somehow, some way, went completely wrong for you. You had been waiting for a date for a whole hour and a half, and they’d never arrived.

You felt so stupid for waiting there so long just for nothing. It made the man who was patrolling the streets very curious about you, even more so now that he saw your depressed facial expression. The man sucked up any thought that told him to not interfere and at a staggering 6’6”, walked into the café you’d been in. “Hey, do you mind if I join you?” the gentle giant asked. Your head whipped up and you wiped at your eyes with a napkin, “O-Oh…no not at all…” you say. The man nods and takes his seat in front of you, giving you a gentle smile from beneath the mask he wore over his mouth to conceal his identity while on patrol.

“Are you feeling alright? You seem very upset right now…I may be a stranger, but I do wish to allow you to have someone you can trust and talk with,” the man said as he tapped on the table with one finger. You remain silent, trying to recompose yourself for a moment before speaking. “I-I…I’m really not feeling alright…to be honest,” your voice has become a little strained as your throat tightens, “because my date totally bailed. And I feel so stupid.” The stranger looks at you with the most gentle, soft, and sad eyes you’d ever seen as he reaches out for your hand now. “That’s upsetting—I’m so sorry that happened to you…um…” he becomes bashful.

With his other hand, he fidgets with his hood for a moment before recomposing himself, “Would you mind if I was your date?” he asks, squeezing your hand tighter. Visibly flustering, you stare at him with wide eyes, “You want to make this a date? Truly?” The man nods, laughing nervously, “B-But if you don’t it’s okay! I will understand if you just need your time alone.” His voice, while anxious, is still as gentle as you expected it to be. A small laugh escapes your lips when you see how nervous he is, feeling a sense of ease at the sight. “Well, I’m not opposed to the idea,” you say, smiling.

Squeezing his hand, you see the man’s sad eyes twinkle with hope that he can actually make you feel better. He was determined to make you feel better and that’s what cheered you up a bit. “So…give me your name? I can’t just go on a date without knowing what to call you,” you say, teasing him a little bit. “O-Oh! Yes, okay…my name is König. A-And you?” The stranger you may now identify as “König” said, asking you the same thing. “You can call me Y/N…thank you for actually agreeing to be my date today…that’s really sweet of you for a stranger…” you say, complimenting him for being nice enough to be your date.

You could tell he was getting flustered, blushing enough to where his whole face was red. “W-Well, it’s my duty to be there for the people whenever they need me to be and…well, you looked like you needed someone to be there for you.” König says, wanting to make you feel appreciated and cared for. Now it was your turn to get flustered, and since he was able to see your face better, his perceptive sniper’s eye was able to catch the visible scrunch of your face as you pursed your lips for just a moment. “Heh…made you feel all warm, didn’t I?” König asks in a playful manner, tapping on the table again to see if you’ll repeat the rhythm like you had earlier.

Laughing softly, you shake off his flirting a bit and recompose yourself. Tapping against the table once more, the sad look in König’s eyes seems to go away now when he hears it and watches you do it. “Do you normally tap on tables like that?” The question is innocent nature, just wanting to get to know him better. “Ja, sometimes—it’s just a force of habit,” König sighs softly, looking at you with a different gaze now. One more, nervous and gentle at the same time. “Now I will admit…I have been watching you for a good bit…but not in a creepy way, okay?” he confesses, making your eyes widen just a bit.

Not a word comes out from you, and yet you decide to allow him to keep talking. Based on the expression he’s got, he’s desperately having a battle in his mind if he could keep saying what he was trying to tell you. “I was watching your expression change from so excited, to nervous, before becoming depressed once you realized what your date did…” König continues to confess. Hearing he had been watching you for the entire time and now seeing he was doing this to keep you company and make you feel better, all those feelings of dread washed away. This was a man you could feel safe with, despite his sudden appearance.

“I’ll admit, it sounded…pretty creepy, but—!” you begin to speak, stopping once you see König’s sad eyes somehow become sadder, “but, it was because you didn’t finish explaining. Am I allowed to ask what your line of work is?” you then ask, wanting to know more. He then perks up when you ask about him more, “I can’t give all the details, but we can just say I’m a soldier…from Austria. Where? It’s a surprise—well…” he trails off, laughing to himself a little, “more like a secret.” König teases before standing up. You’re a little confused when he does, but when König offers his hand to you, it just makes you smile.

“Come on, let’s change your plans up—last minute style. I know a good spot to enjoy someone’s company. It’s pretty romantic too, but a little far,” König says. Taking the chance with another random stranger today, you go for it by grabbing his hand and standing up. Taking your things with you in your other hand, you step out of the café together and begin to walk down the bustling city streets. You have no idea where König’s leading you, but for some reason, a lot of trust is being put into him right now. This man probably has the capability to fucking kill you considering his imposing stature…and yet he seems a little too nice to do so.

Maybe because you don’t pose a threat at all.

Eventually, König has led you to a nearby park, one you particularly liked due to its proximity to a forest with a trail that branched off into it. “Oooo, getting me to a secluded location, eh? What, gonna kill me?” You tease, making König look at you in disbelief. “What? Why would I do that? You’re too cute and nice to kill—you’re not one of my targets, so I’ll spare your life,” König says. His tone is a little too cheerful when he says this, making you feel a little nervous now. “Nobody should ever get that excited at the thought of telling someone they’re not the target he’s supposed to kill. Wait—he fucking said what?” Instantaneously, your brain speaks to all nerves and cells in your body; fight or flight seems to kick in.

“So your work is dangerous…” you whisper softly to yourself. “Not only that, but it’s a big secret. Be good for me and don’t say a word, okay?” König says, his voice still eerily cheerful. Your stomach drops a bit more once, making you stop dead in your tracks. “Hey, what’s the matter? Did I scare you? I’m sorry—truly I didn’t mean it…” König asks as he stops walking himself. In this moment, you turn yourself away from him to process what was going on. “Y/N…? Please look at me…” he pleads you softly, eyes filled with an apologetic gaze.

You slowly do as you’re told, your eyes meeting König’s. “l won’t bring you harm, okay? I can see you look scared but you’ll need to trust me—I’m a military man,” he speaks to you in a gentle tone, “and that’s all I can give about this. I have values, and don’t believe in the harm of someone who doesn’t deserve it.” König then cautiously reaches out for you, as if reaching for a frightened animal. Not a single muscle moves, keeping you completely frozen in place. Large, gentle hands then hold onto your shoulders in an attempt to let you know he was about to embrace you. He continues to move, pulling you into a hug.

You’d expected König’s body to feel cold and off putting as well as give you more reason to run away right now, but you don’t. He’s extremely warm in the cold autumn air, relaxing you enough to feel safe once again. You would stay this way for a whole minute, as König then tries to comfort you as best as he can to calm you down. “I promise you that I would never want to bring you harm,” he continues speaking, stroking the nape of your neck a little to reassure you. You then feel him take a deep breath before sighing shakily. It’s as if König was preparing to continue fighting for your trust.

“I…I was bullied a lot, as a kid. I can understand that fear of being hurt by people who barely know you…” He says, confessing to you a reason that would at least prove he won’t do anything to hurt you. You look up at König from his chest, and he looks down to meet your eyes. “If anything, I won’t let anybody hurt you. I want to protect you a lot, okay? I will do everything to make sure that nobody hurts you,” he says, voice filled with determination. König’s grip on you becomes tighter and more protective, clearly taking this seriously. Your body seems to heat up a little when he’s practically devoting himself to your safety.

Even if he had scared you, completely by accident, König wanted you to know you’re safe. “Th…thank you…I trust you to keep your word, alright König?” you say softly. König, feeling a little brave to trust you with his identity, then lowers the mask over his mouth so it rests on his chin to seal the deal. He’s got a few scars on his face, with one that lightly passes over his soft, plump lips. One of them appears to have just recently healed, scar protruding and a fleshy pink color. “Has anyone told you how handsome you are?” You suddenly flirt, making König blush a deep red. “N-No…because nobody’s ever really seen my entire face,” König mumbles, leaning down a little so you could get a better look.

His eyes were still soft and sad, giving you a look within what makes him care so much; pure affection. König feels a deep connection to you, and very much wants to keep it. “Meine Liebe…” he whispers in a hushed tone, plump lips slightly quivering from apprehensive breathing, “please let me be the one to care for you. I will comfort you and give you all the love and attention you deserve.” Your eyes stare into König’s deeply due to the proximity, yet only for a moment as they slowly flutter shut once you lean in to kiss him. His own eyes widen, becoming much softer as they fill with a profound sense of comfort for you. The two of you were only strangers, on a new date after your previous one failed, and yet you managed to have a heart to heart.

König’s eyes would flutter shut, breathing becoming slightly heavy as he kisses you back. His hands find their way to your back, pulling you into his body. Your own hands do the same, and the need for oxygen pulls the both of you away gently. Your eyes open simultaneously, and a soft breeze brushes past the surrounding trees. “I’ve never kissed on the first date before…that was sweet,” you whisper softly against König’s lips. He gives a gentle smile, “Good. I’m glad you liked it that much…are you feeling better?” König speaks to you in a delicate manner, concerned for how you’re currently feeling in the moment after what he had said. You smile simply smile and give him another peck on the lips, “Personally?”

“So much better.”

#cod #cod mw22 #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #cod könig #könig x reader #cod x reader #cod x reader angst #x reader #hurt/comfort #eventual fluff #good ending #fluff #angst

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lueurjun · 1 year

Text

@jakewife i hope you enjoy my love. let’s hope i get this one right the first time lmao ehshsjs you didn’t specify a trope so i just winged it—it turned out much longer than i anticipated

hufflepuff bf jake x slytherin reader.

right off the bat: slytherin x hufflepuff quidditch rivalry trope

elite enemies to lovers ( sorta ) trope. sorry not sorry i love it so much

jake gives sporty, friendly jock type. the one that is so popular and loved by everyone just because of how nice and cool he is without even trying

and you’re kinda giving nice but stern, oliver wood level quidditch obsession who lives, breathes and eats victory

iconic if you ask me

it’s never just a ‘friendly’ match when hufflepuff is against slytherin

it’s personal beef between you and jake

well. you

jake thinks it’s just the type of friendship you guys have

but you absolutely despise him and live to crush every single one of his dreams on that broomstick of yours

well, at least you think you do

your friends are convinced there’s something else that makes you so invested in jake

but you’re more than sure that it’s just because you dislike how cocky he is and want to dominate hufflepuff at quidditch

‘our match against hufflepuffs. we have to beat them or else life is worthless’

‘don’t we play ravenclaw first?”

‘NO ONE CARES ABOUT RAVENCLAW THIS IS ABOUT HUFFLEPUFF AND THE GOOD FOR NOTHING GOBLIN THEY CALL A CAPTAIN! HE’S A TERRIBLE PERSON’

you almost snap your broom, the mere mention of him gets you riled up

meanwhile, jake is just skipping around campus complimenting people like there’s no tomorrow

‘yo! is that a new tie? it brings out your eyes”

such a terrible person. honestly deserves a cell in azkaban

you don’t completely know why jake gets you so mad

more often than not you tell yourself that it’s just because jake burns your pride

he’s very good at quidditch, and sometimes, you feel like maybes he’s better than you

which you hate because you excel at the sport and it’s the one thing you love most in the world

and knowing he might be better burns. so you take it and turn it into sheer hatred for him

but you don’t really hate him at all

and you realise that when you watch him hit the ground during hufflepuff’s match against gryffindor

the game stops but you’re already on the field before the players realize what happened

‘jake? jake? can you hear me? Oh heavens—’

‘i’m in heaven? can you send one of your other angels down there to tell my angel, their name is y/n, that i really liked them?’

then he passes out?

and you’re just like???

did he just call you his angel?

WAIT DID HE JUST SAY HE LIKES YOU??

you don’t know when it happened but at some point, you’re pulled back by one of the teachers to let the other teachers have a look at him

and you’re just out of it so you don’t have any idea what’s going on

finally after jake’s been removed from the pitch one of your friends pull you away since it’s started to rain

‘you were on the pitch before anyone even realized jake was hurt…’

your friend is smirking, half expecting you to hit them over the head

but you don’t

‘i think i might like jake’

now that’s not what they were expecting

‘and i think he likes me too’

your entire friend group makes a massive scene of applauding and hooting, ‘it’s about time’

but you’re too focused on what happened back on the field

then you find yourself standing up and heading out of the great hall, your friends fading into the background as you rush to the hospital wing

jake is awake when you arrive and he beams at the sight of you

‘y/n! it’s good to see you, i like your hai—“

‘do you like me. yes or no.’

primary school crush core ^

jake’s taken back by your sudden question

but after a few minutes, he slowly nods his head

you weren’t actually expecting him to nod, so you stand there unsure of what to do

‘right then… i think i like you back’

nice

totally romantic

rom com confessions could never

jake grins — though he’s in a lot of pain so you can’t actually tell whether he’s grinning or grimacing

either way, a win is a win. you’re both now in like

DATING HUFFLEPUFF JAKE

after the awkward but kinda sweet confession in the hospital wing, the two of you decide that normal people start dating from then on

so that’s what happens

he leaves the hospital wing with a broken arm but he’s got you on his good one so he takes that as a win

everyone is flabbergasted when you rock up to the great hall holding his hand

all of your friends are exchanging money with jakes friends. turns out they had secret bets on how long it would take before the two of you finally got together

you’re not a pda person so hand holding or a quick cheek kiss is as far as you’re willing to go in public

‘can i at least peck your lip-’

‘put those lips near me whilst we’re in a public space and i will hex you’

hex him out of like, you like the boy too damn much to ever hurt him

you’d dive in front of a killing curse before you’d ever point one at him

but the threat still stands

in private though, you’re all over him

makeout sessions in the restricted section after jake charmed his way into getting a free pass for it

though peeves the ghost has horrible timing and tends to pop up to piss you both off

so you settle for myrtles bathroom

her crying is easy to drown out when you have jake sim’s lips all over you

him admiring you from across the room

you not so subtly biting your lip when he gets all smart in lesson and starts answering questions correctly

‘seriously? him being a smart arse is what gets you going?’

‘shut up jay, at least he has more brain cells than you’

that sure did hush jay up but not without him jabbing you with his elbow

jake sneaking into the slytherin dorms for cuddles

the next morning the two of you are late to lesson and end up showing up in each others uniform

‘mr sim. i don’t recall you being placed in slytherin.’

Mcgonagall peers down at jake’s green and silver tie and then shifts her gaze to you where you’re now looking down at your own which is yellow and black

she almost smirks when she sees you hide your face behind your book

the class whistles and hoots teasingly which only makes matters worse

the funny thing is… it’s not the first time that’s happened and it most certainly won’t be the last

the quidditch rivalry never fades

‘good luck kiss?’

‘eat grass, sim. i’m about to obliterate your entire team they won’t even see it coming!’

you aggressively push past him leaving him standing there dumbfounded

and then you run back with a sheepish smile

‘with love, it’s all with love. i love you! good luck!’

then you kiss him and run back to the slytherin locker rooms, totally unaware of what you just said

it doesn’t click until the game has already started and suddenly you’re mid air freaking out on your damn broom

‘yo slytherin angel! get your head in the game!’

it’s jake and that causes you to freak out more

which he realizes AND THEN HE GRINS

‘by the way, i love you too but if you don’t get your head in the game and play like the champion i know you are, i’ll break up with you’

damn. you’re a flustered mess on your broom because that really gets you

so you play like your life depends on it

it was a close match but slytherin wins

‘so… you love me, huh?’ jake rocks back and forth on his heels with a cheeky grin

you nod ‘and i recall, you called me a champion?’

‘seriously? we’re talking about a huge step in our relationship and you’re hung up on the fact that i called you a champion?’

of course you are

it fuelled your ego

you’re so high on adrenaline that you don’t care that you’re in the middle of the quidditch pitch

dropping your precious broom, you grab jake by his collar and pull him in for a much deserved kiss

the stadium explodes with cheers but you can’t find it in you to feel embarrassed

‘i love you, my favourite champion’

oh, jake sim. he really knows how to make you putty in his hands

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wangxianficrecs · 1 year

Text

❤️ Across the street to another life by danegen

❤️ Across the street to another life

by danegen

M, 99k, Wangxian

Summary: Wangji stays on the piano bench as they’re closing up. Wei Ying chews his lip, knowing what he’s going to do but horrified at himself. But what’s the alternative: kick the guy out and find him sleeping beside the dumpster in the morning? And that’s if the cops don’t take him in for vagrancy. “Wangji?” Wangji looks up. Please don’t be a serial killer. “So, we’re closing up for the night, but A-Yuan and I live upstairs. Do you want to join us for dinner?” Wangji blinks. His head bobs in what’s probably a yes. “Great!” Fuck. Or a ragged monosyllabic man wearing a collar shows up at Wei Ying's music store. Wei Ying and A-Yuan ask, is anyone going to adopt this guy? And then they don't wait for an answer.

Kay's comments: This story really had me hooked and I could hardly wait for each new chapter. It's a modern AU set in America based on the movie Unleashed. I didn't know the movie and thankfully, that didn't matter, because no knowledge is needed! Wen Ruohan is a crime boss here and Lan Wangji is his top-fighter that he keeps in a cage and collared and uses to commit violence on his enemies and to win illegal fights (he gave me Winter Soldier vibes!). One day, Lan Wangji manages to escape and he gets taken in by Wei Wuxian and his son A-Yua. Cue lots of hurt/comfort, some drama, family feels, tragic pasts, Wangxian getting together and having to deal with Wen Ruohan. Lots of angst and a well-deserved happy ending. Despite the author warning that Lan Wangji is way out of character here, it didn't really feel that way for me. Like, it totally made sense given his circumstances. I really loved the character dynamics in this story. The Jiang parents are divorced for example and now Yu Ziyuan is trying to be a less shitty parent and mostly doing it by bribing her grandchildren with gifts and one of my favourite parts, though he doesn't play that much of a role, is what the author made of Wen Zhuliu, because I'm really weak for him! I also really loved the slow thawing of Lan Wangji and him growing into his new life and finding a place for himself. Mojo's comments: Fucking spectacular, and I'm in a car and not able to make a good bookmark, but DAMN, y'all. Lwj has been kept in a cage and made to fight all his life, and finally slips his chain and sinks into domestic bliss with wwx and a-yuan: learns to read and use a fork and it's beautiful. But of course, his past doesn't want to let him go.

Excerpt: “Was that woman your mother?” Wei Ying’s smile falls. His mouth opens in a pretty O. “Oh, you mean Yu Ziyuan? The one who picked A-Yuan up?” Wangji nods. “No. Well, not really. My mother died when I was about A-Yuan’s age. My father, too. Yu Ziyuan and her husband—well, ex-husband now—raised me after that. More or less.” Wangji nods like he understands and stares down at the counter. He doesn’t know what to call a woman who is sort of a mother but not really. “Where are your parents?” Wei Ying asks. His voice is soft, like he isn’t sure he wants Wangji to hear. “Dead.” He doesn’t remember his parents, but when Wangji was younger, Wen Ruohan told him that he had taken Wangji in after they died. “Oh. I’m sorry.” Wangji doesn’t understand why Wei Ying would apologize. He’s afraid to ask why. “A-Yuan’s mother died, too,” Wei Ying says. When Wangji peeks up at him, Wei Ying has gone back to staring at the computer screen. He isn’t smiling. “She died when he was a baby.” It hadn’t occurred to Wangji that Wei Yuan must have a mother. He knows about mothers, but he’s never actually met one. He doesn’t know what to say, so he says what Wei Ying said: “I’m sorry.”

modern setting, modern no powers, pov alternating, family feels, set in america, based on unleashed (2005), past wei wuxian/others, wei wuxian is lan sizhui's parent, wei yuan, single parent wei wuxian, addition, implied/referenced drug addition, amnesia, ableist language, musicians, angst with a happy ending, found family, @danegen

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

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arc-misadventures · 2 years

Note

Rin FMK Nora, Jeanne, Jaune

Rin: FMK

Rin: Okay… Well this is a relatively easy decision…

Jaune: It is? I thought since it involves the three of us it would be a hard choice.

Jeanne: I mean, we’re going against, Nora so obviously she’s going to marry her. So, one of us is going to be killed.

Jaune: Still, I don’t want to, ‘die.’ Makes me feel worthless… Well more worthless than I already am…

Jeanne: Oh, don’t worry, Jaune. Its, Rin, uou know she wouldn’t do anything mean to you.

Jaune: Yes, but I am irrationally paranoid.

Jeanne: Why did so many people hurt you?

Jaune: Shits, and giggles…?

Rin: Okay… S-Shall we get going?

Nora: Yeah, lets get this going on to more happier grounds

Jaune: Right, sorry for making this such a downer.

Jeanne: Were sorry, Rin!

Rin: It’s okay, you guys have been going through a lot. Okay! So: Kill, Nora.

Nora: Cool.

Jaune: Wait, seriously?!

Jeanne: Why?

Rin: W-Well… Nora, and I have already done before so…

Jaune: Wait, what?!

Jeanne: You two have done it?!

Nora: Oh yeah! We got drunk on accident a few years ago. Then we got a bit handsy~!

Jeanne: You did what?!

Rin: The sake we had that day was pretty… strong.

Nora: So anyway we went at it, and then we woke up in each others arm.

Rin: Which is pretty normal actually.

Jaune: And, pretty comfortable.

Jeanne: Wait?! You slept with, Nora?!

Jaune: No, but I have had, Nora crawled in my bed while I was sleeping. It was very nice; so warm, and comforting.

Jeanne: Naww, I wanna do that…

Nora: Just you wait then~!

Rin: Just hope it doesn’t end up like us. Since we were naked…

Nora: That was such a lovely sight to wake up to~!

Jeanne: So you’re going to, ‘Kill,’ Nora because you’ve already done it?

Rin: Yeah, that’s pretty much it.

Jaune: Wow, they’re completely different than my, Ren, and Nora.

Jeanne: How’s that?

Jaune: Nora pines for, Ren hard, and Ren just doesn’t see it.

Jeanne: Ouch.

Nora: So! Who are you gonna do the do with~?

Rin: Oh, I want to sleep with, Jeanne.

Jeanne: Y-Y-You what?!

Rin: What? What’s wrong?

Jeanne: I-I-I just didn’t think you wanted to… d-do that with me?!

Rin: Hey, I’ve had dreams of being… intimate with you.

Jeanne: You’ve dreamed about us doing it?!

Nora: Don’t worry! Her dreams weren’t as bad as the ones the guys have about you! But, so juicy~?!

Jeanne: What are they dreaming about?!

Jaune: I don’t think you want to now…

Rin: You don’t.

Nora: But, the bunny suit!

JJ: The what?

Rin: Shh!

Nora: Naww…

Rin: So, I mostly want to do it because I’m curious.

Jeanne: What about…?

Rin: Well, haven’t you ever looked at someone that just makes you wonder; what if we dated, if we kiss, what if we… did it?

Jeanne: A few times…

Rin: So yeah, that’s why I would… ‘Fuck’ you.

Jeanne: Oh… okay. That sounds nice…

Nora: Plus you get bragging rights on banging the, Angel~!

RJ: NORA?!

Jaune: Okay… Well, this is probably how, Pyrrha feels…

Rin: So, I would… M-Marry, Jaune…

Nora: But, why…?

Jeanne: Yeah, why?

Rin: I just think he’s handsome, rugged, and nice. I feel safe, and protected around him. And, I wouldn’t mind being his darling little wife, with our little, but growing family~! It just sounds so nice when I think about it~!

Nora: that does sound nice~!

Jeanne: I would love that to happen in my life~!

Jaune: …

Jaune: To be honest, if I had, Rin in my world. I would totally marry her if I could.

Rin: R-Really?!

Jaune: Your beautiful, cute. So caring, and kind. Honestly I would be a very happy man if I had you in my life.

Rin: Aww… Thanks, Jaune~!

Jaune: Also, because I know that look, I would marry, Nora if I could.

Nora: Yes! Co-Wives!

Rin: Nora that’s…?! Actually, that sounds nice… Really nice.

Jeanne: Awww… If it wasn’t for the fact I would be dating myself, I would want to marry, Jaune too…

Jaune: You would what?!

#rwby #jaune arc #lie ren #nora valkyrie #fem jaune #jaune x nora #nora x jaune #jaune x ren #ren x jaune #rwby nora’s arc #rwby martial arcs #pyrrha nikos

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morbific-or-felicific · 2 years

Text

-KUEBIKO Featuring Childe

Meaning: a state of exhaustion inspired by an act of senseless violence, which forces you to revise your image of what can happen in this world

Word Count: 1.4k~

Description: Childe coming home very injured and having to take care of him

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

Join The Tag List

You could already tell there was something wrong. It had been hours since Childe should have been home. Archons, if he had gotten killed you’d kill him.

Childe was rarely home late. He liked coming home before his day got too long. In your time living with your boyfriend, there had been a total of 12 times that he had come home late, and there were even fewer times that it hadn’t been because of some kind of disaster he had either caused or gotten stuck in, and nearly all of those times it had been due to the fact that he had gotten distracted while on a mission to fulfill one of his siblings’ wishes after he was done with his work.

Gods you hoped he was looking for a figurine for Teucer and not causing property damage.

You had been waiting by the door for Childe to come back for nearly three hours now, nervously pacing back and forth, waiting for some sign of life. Finally, the front door opened, and you were overjoyed to know that your boyfriend was indeed okay, and- oh no, why was he covered in blood? You looked the man up and down, checking for any major injuries, trying not to get caught up with any ‘minor’ scrapes or scratches. He was leaning against the doorframe, trying to steady himself, both of his hands pressed to his side, seemingly trying to slow some bleeding from what looked to possibly be a stab wound.

He smiled at you.

“Hello my love, I’m sorry I’m late, I got held up at work.”

You snapped out of your daze and rushed towards the harbinger. Surprisingly enough, he actually accepted your help and limped forward, now using you as a support to stay upright.

“What happened to you…?” You were almost afraid to ask.

“Ah you know just- gods that hurts, just tried to fight another harbinger to have a little bit of- ah, fuck, a little bit of fun haha…okay maybe it was two other harbingers.”

Now in the living room, you dropped him lowered him to the sofa as gently as you could, but he still let out a loud groan of pain at the sudden movement.

“Ah, archons, ha that doesn’t feel too good.”

“Did they do all of this to you?”

“Yes, unfortunately they did. Turns out Pantalone doesn’t take too kindly to being called a weak old man and Arlecchino… well she doesn’t take too kindly to me.”

You sighed.

“I’ll be right back, I just have to get the first aid kit, alright?”

“Love, no, it’s alright. I just need to sit down for a second.”

“Childe, you’re covered in blood!”

“In my defence, not all of the blood is mine!”

“Take your clothes off you idiot, I'll be right back.”

“Woah now, I’d love to fuck you darling, but I’m unfortunately a bit too banged up for that at the moment.” :)

“That’s not what I meant!” you yelled as you walked into the other room to look for the first aid kit.

By the time you got back to the living room, you’d found a cloth, a small bucket of warm water, and the first aid kit you’d been searching for. Thankfully for you, Childe had taken off his pants and his shirt, revealing just how badly injured he really was. You stopped and stared for a second due to how hot he was covered in blood just how badly he was banged up.

He looked like he had been punched in the face once or twice, judging by his black eye. He had several cuts that looked to be from either knives or a sword (it was hard to tell), and he had what looked to be a shallow stab wound on his left side as well as a slightly less serious gash on his right thigh. This is, of course, not counting the numerous scrapes and bruises littering his body and the fact that he looked like someone had practically poured blood on him.

You grabbed a chair and moved it so you could sit in front of Childe in order to start fixing him up.

“You don’t need to do all this, you know. I’ll be just fine.”

“Of course I have to. You could barely walk over here.”

“It’s not all that bad. You don’t need to be so serious, I’m just a bit banged up.”

“You got stabbed, Childe!”

“Only a little bit!”

You rolled your eyes and started wiping the blood from his torso while he leaned back into the couch. Oh god there was going to be blood on the couch now…damn, you really didn’t want to have to buy a new one…. You let your mind run as you continued cleaning the blood off of your boyfriend in order to see how bad the shallow stab wound really was.

Childe watched as you ran the warm washcloth over his skin. He really wasn’t prepared for how badly he was going to lose the fight with Pantalone and Arlecchino. While he stumbled home after the fight he had been trying to think of how he could explain the state he was in to you. He knew you’d be worried, that was a given, but he didn’t expect you to have tears threatening to spill from your eyes while you gently cleaned him up.

“I’m sorry love, I didn’t mean to worry you so much.”

“I’m just…you don’t take care of yourself well enough, and I’m scared you’ll let things get too far…”

“I can handle myself, love, you don’t have to worry so much.”

“You’re such an idiot, of course I have to worry!”

“Hey! No need to be so harsh.”

“You’re reckless and don’t care enough about your safety.”

Any protests died in his throat as you returned to cleaning him up.

When you had finally finished cleaning off the blood from his abdomen, it was clear how bad the stab wound was. It was deep enough to be a problem and blood was still slowly draining from it onto your couch, perfect. You took out some antiseptic wipes to disinfect it, but as soon as Childe saw what you were doing, he was already trying to stand to escape you.

“What are you doing?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at the ginger struggling on your couch.

“I don’t want you to disinfect it, it’s gonna hurt!”

“You got stabbed and this is where you draw the line at too painful?!”

“Yes!”

“Stop moving and let me do this, idiot.”

He stopped his attempts to stand up and relaxed on the couch, starting to pout. You had expected to hear yelling or crying when you started cleaning the wound, but instead he was silent, just calmly letting you do your task. At least you thought he was calm until you were almost finished and you heard a loud crack. You looked up to see an embarrassed Childe who wouldn’t make eye contact with you.

After a few seconds of swiveling your head to see where the noise had come from, your eyes landed on the armrest of the couch where Childe’s hand had been resting. The armrest was bent at such an incorrect angle that any hope you had of your couch being salvageable was immediately shattered.

“I’ll uh, I’ll buy a new one.”

“A new armrest?”

“A new couch, idiot. If you want a better reason to replace it we can always see how badly we could break it while having some fun after this.” he was smirking at you now.

“What happened to being too banged up to fuck me?”

“Pfft, that’s in the past, I’m talking about now.”

“’Now’ you have an open stab wound.”

He laughed a bit before wincing at the pain it caused as you finished up disinfecting his wound. You continued to clean him up, putting gauze on his wound and starting to disinfect the injury on his thigh while he sat there trying not to curse. It scared you whenever he’d come home hurt, but it was especially bad this time. All you wanted was for the idiotic harbinger to stay safe. He’d been through enough already. He didn’t need to be out there causing himself more pain and suffering.

You finished fixing him up the best you could and helped him limp into your bedroom to lay down. He looked exhausted. Maybe it would be best to let him sleep, or maybe you should bring him some soup? While you were considering what to do to help your beat up boyfriend, you heard quiet, steady breaths coming from the bed, and upon further inspection, Childe had already fallen asleep. Maybe you would just make him a nice breakfast tomorrow instead of soup.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny

morbific-or-felicific

#mae’s daily paper☕️*•̊ⴰ✧#childe.❣︎•*✧ ̊ⴰ #felicific.mae☀︎*•̊ⴰ✧#i restarted this so many times and i wrote half of it while i was asleep this morning so if it suck’s don’t come for me #childe x reader #childe fluff #genshin fluff #genshin impact

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thistlecatfics · 1 year

Note

ALSO SNAPE. older teens/young adult period is such a ✨fun time✨in his life! so many possibilities! pre DE baby snape era… SWM era… immediately following voldemort’s defeat… right after harry begins hogwarts… he totally wouldn’t, but aaaagh i would LOVE to hear him unpack that first potions lesson with harry in therapy lmfao.

… also thanks to the snames post i now can’t help but imagine james and snape in therapy following SWM. i feel like james would be a much more… workable? client than sirius, especially if his parents were encouraging! would be a fun fic i’m just saying 👀

Ok he is the last one for the night because I was just like "oh I'll jot down an idea or two" and then I look up and it's suddenly 20 minutes later.

Adult Snape -

His character is like… DEFINED by not being in therapy. He (or at least part of him) is constantly living in the past and in each traumatic moment, and he does. not. move on. He survives. He does not heal. He is not interested in healing.

Could you imagine Dumbledore trying to force him to go to therapy as a Hogwarts employee? LMAO. Snape would be like “You first, bitch.”

Though I would love for Dumbledore to force him on a sabbatical where he did an intensive residential trauma treatment program for six months then six months to do potions research somewhere with no children and no one to ask him questions, and it would be the reward for completing the program. (That and a year off from teaching first through fifth years.) (I hc he actually likes teaching 6th and 7th years since he can be selective about them.)

(I’ve never worked in non-substance use inpatient so I can’t say much about it and it would absolutely be a referral. Dumbledore’s like “so I have this guy I want in therapy…” and I’m like “... have you considered residential for him?”)

Adult Snape and I would not work well together. It would not be worth trying. (Though it’s easy to think of him as an old man but he was in his early 30s in the books lol.)

Also if he’s being forced into therapy as an adult, he would absolutely remain silent the entire time as a test of wills with the therapist.

Ok but younger Snape??

He only goes to therapy for Lily. Let’s imagine pre-SWM, Lily is like “I love you but I no longer like you. Go to therapy. Work on yourself. Then maybe we can be friends again.”

Self-esteem!!! Identity! Identity in a social justice lens!!

Definitely a lot of praise for his intelligence, but also slowly naming other values too. It would totally be a situation where I’m like “It’s ok if you disagree, but I think you have inherent worth, just as you are, separate from your intelligence. You don’t have to believe me, but I believe it. I’ll hold onto that belief until you’re ready to hold it too.” and he’d roll his eyes. Lol.

Unconditional positive regard again as the key therapeutic factor!!

Being really careful to avoid any impulse to “fix” him and just bear witness and build trust and slowly co-create space where he can be honest about his feelings and hurt.

As a teenager, I can’t imagine he ever mentions his family at all. I think it’s purely about his life at Hogwarts - he keeps those worlds so separate. (One of those situations where the therapist is immediately like “oh your family is FUCKED” but waits for the client to give an opening.)

Ok post SWM???

James -

Also, yes, you’re absolutely right James would be an easier client to work with in many ways. Basically, he has a secure attachment style from parents who were able to meet a decent chunk of his emotional needs as a child, and so he is able to trust people more easily, which means therapeutic work can go deeper faster since the trust building stage is much shorter.

I think the hard part for him in therapy would be motivation – why is he seeking therapy? He’s forced to by the school? He’d be absolutely in denial that he did anything wrong.

I have a colleague at my old job who worked with students who were found responsible by the Title IX Officer for violating sexual harassment/violence rules (but not expelled), and I think I’d want James to go through that pretty structured program. I think I’d be too easy on him when the necessary step would really be around taking responsibility for his own actions (within a very complicated situation in which he’s not entirely in the wrong!)

I also think he’d work better with a male therapist but maybe that’s just my bias. I’d want him to work with someone who feels more comfortable pushing him, and that’s just not my vibe.

Snape post SWM??

He ABSOLUTELY shuts down. Talk to this bloody shrink about what happened?? Absolutely not.

His main (only authentic?) relationship was just cut away (his fault, but still, it would be intensely difficult.)

I headcanon that he really dives into dark magic during this time – not so much the Death Eaters but only Death Eaters as they are vehicles for the opportunity to explore the Dark Arts, an area where he can feel in control and powerful and so self-soothe.

I would try to engage with him through magical theory and the Dark Arts and whatever his main interest in the present was (no judgment, confidentiality made clear), and see if we could use the magic he was creating and experimenting with as a vehicle for considering himself and his own internal experiences and feelings and needs.

He’d be the type of client where I end up binging research after I see them to be able to keep up with them and try to be able to use it as an in for therapeutic work.

I do think he really wants an audience for his experimentation, and so he might eventually start to enjoy talking about what he works on and we would SLOWLY build that therapeutic rapport.

It might work, it might not, but I’d hold fast to my optimism even when it was hard. (And he would make it very hard.)

(And canonically, I think there just wouldn't be enough time to build that rapport. He'd join the Death Eaters and stop going to therapy before we get the opportunity to do some real work.)

#severus snape #james potter #snape's worst memory #hp characters in therapy

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marie-swriting · 10 months

Text

Is Your Plan Working ? - Steve Harrington

Drabble Masterlist

Summary : Steve thinks he still can get a number from a random girl, you think he can't.

Warnings : sister!reader, reader is 14, set before season 3.

Word count : 706

French version on Tumblr

French version on Wattpad

Prompt : "Was I supposed to be impressed ?" 4th prompt from this list made by @exhuastedpigeon

“Hey dumbass !” You shout, making Steve turn around.

“What do you want, Y/N ?”

“You make me an ice cream ?”

“You literally insulted me at my workplace and you want me to give you an ice cream ?” He questions, outraged.

You roll your eyes before putting your innocent face on and stating with a small voice :

“I apologise, my sweet brother. May I have an ice cream, please ?”

“Alright, I’m gonna do your ice cream, but only because I don’t wanna see your face anymore.” Steve gives up, annoyed.

“Love you, too.”

While Steve makes your order, you observe him, wanting to distract him. He started working at Scoops Ahoy three weeks ago so it’s still kind of hard for him. For you, it’s the perfect occasion to have free ice creams and mock your brother. Unfortunately, Steve does his work without a mistake today.

When he’s done, you take your cup and sit at a table near the counter. Steve rolls his eyes as he sees you’re still not leaving. You take your time to eat because you want to annoy him as much as you can. You’re taking another spoon of your ice cream with a fake-angelic expression on your face.

“Tell me Steve, is your plan working ? Did you get any numbers ?”

“Yes. Totally. Without a doubt.” He exclaims, trying to play it cool.

“Huh, technically, you got none.” Robin corrects him as she arrives at the counter.

“That’s false, I got one !”

“Yeah, zero and half. She didn’t give you the good one.”

When you hear this information, you can’t help but burst out laughing, imagining the scene in your head.

“I wish I could have seen that. I can’t believe after all these years being nicknamed ‘King Steve’, you’re struggling that much. I love it.” You state as you take another bite of your ice cream.

“It’s always nice to feel supported.” Steve says ironically. “But we’ll see who’s gonna be laughing in the end when I’ll have a girlfriend before the end of the holidays while you’ll still be hanging out with your little friends.”

“At least, they’re my age. Listen, we really like you Steve but you’re hurting our feelings when you hang with us.”

“Wait, the kids that come here almost everyday are your friends ?” Robin asks you and you nod. “I’m coming back in a sec.” She informs before getting a white board.

As you finish eating, you watch Robin taking a marker pen, drawing two categories where it’s written ‘YOU RULE’ and ‘YOU SUCK’. In that last one, she draws a stick before saying :

“I feel like this column is gonna be full really soon.”

“Yeah, whatever. Keep mocking me, I’ll prove to you that my charms still work. I’m gonna do it right now, actually.” Steve affirms, showing you the new client. “Get ready to put a stick in that ‘YOU RULE’ column.” He says to Robin before smiling at the girl. “Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, can I offer you an ice cream ?”

“Hello, can I have lemon and strawberry, please.”

“Right away.”

Steve is fully focused on the making of the ice cream, making sure it’s done perfectly. Once he’s done, he gives the cup to the client. She’s about to pay when he stops her with a charming smile.

“It’s free.”

“Really ?”

“Yes, my pleasure.”

“Thank you ! My boyfriend is gonna be happy.” She smiles while Steve’s face breaks down. “Have a nice day.”

You wait for the young woman to leave before laughing out loud with Robin. She holds her tummy before drawing another stick on the board. Steve tries to not let anything show, even though hurt can be seen in his eyes.

“Was I supposed to be impressed ?” You ask, calming your laugh. “Your face was beautiful, wish I could have taken a picture. Well, I’d like to keep mocking your lack of charm but I have to hang out with my friends.” You state before throwing your cup. “See you Robin.” You add before leaving and ignoring your brother.

“You have to be home by six !” Steve orders you.

“If you get one number, maybe yes.”

“I love your sister.” Robin smiles, making Steve roll his eyes.

Drabble Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

#marie swriting in english #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #stranger things drabble #steve harrington x sister reader #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x sister!reader #steve harrington drabble

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