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talaok · 10 hours

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PostOutbreak!Joel likes reader but he tries to hide it because of the age gap. To try and put us off, he can be a bit standoffish/mean but Ellie can tell it’s a facade and tells him to drop it and the age thing doesn’t matter if you really like each other. Then a fluffy confession omggg

Pairing: PostOutbreak!Joel Miller x f!reader

Warnings: unspecified age gap, joel being a lil insecure and scared, and Ellie being a menace, but its mostly all fluff who am i kidding

a/n: this was the cutest fucking request ever, thank you anon

You know those books or movies where it's painfully clear to everyone but the two main characters that they love each other, and you keep reading or watching thinking "How could anyone not see that he likes her?" as you increasingly get more frustrated and annoyed?

Well, this is a bit like that,

not a bit actually, completely so.

And in this metaphor, you and Joel were the two oblivious main characters, while Ellie, poor Ellie, was the unfortunate witness of your blindness.

It was so incredibly clear to her that she sometimes struggled not to laugh at your interactions.

I mean the first time Joel saw you was the very first time she'd seen him blush and forget how to speak in the span of a second- it was hilarious.

And then when he'd catch him staring at you or pretend not to purposely take the longer route home just to catch a glimpse of you outside the bakery... it was hard to only chuckle underneath her breath, but she managed...

until today

Joel slammed the door as he got it, like really loud, not like his usual slam.

"what's wrong?" Ellie asked, her brows frowning in suspicion as he kicked his boots off his feet before halfheartedly dragging them to the kitchen where she was sitting.

"nothin'" he grumbled,

Now that made Ellie sigh with annoyance,

he was always the one to blab about how she could always confide in him, and if that was the truth, then that meant it went both ways.

"Y'know a grumpy old man once told me that it's good to share how you're feeling" She tilted her head to the side, raising her brow as Joel rolled his eyes, filling a glass with water "Would be real hypocritical of him to not take his own advice..."

Said old man, was now rolling his eyes even harder, drowning the full glass in a second

"'s nothing, don't worry 'bout it"

"Joel" Ellie only glared at him,

and as always when it was her,

he was convinced faster than he liked to admit

He sighed, before speaking "It's stupid" he said

"I don't care" Ellie shrugged, placing her elbows on the kitchen counter where she sat and using her hands to support her head, her whole focus on Joel,

who sighed, again.

"I just-" he placed the glass in the sink before turning back to her "I just saw y/n talking to I guy I-"

"Oh my god you're jealous!" she said it with such enthusiasm and with such a smile pulling at her lips that you would have guessed she'd just won the lottery

"no" Joel frowned, shaking his head "What are you on about? I'm not jealous, I just don't like the guy"

"yeah" Ellie snorted "I'm sure you just "don't like the guy"" she air quoted as she laughed

"Why would I be jealous?" Joel went on pretending,

perhaps lying to himself together with her, the jury was still out.

"I'm just worried for her-" he argued "she's too kind and too fucking nice and Jake's an asshole"

again, Ellie only smiled as she watched him lie so blatantly

"why would you be jealous?" she pondered his question with amusement "well I don't know... maybe 'cause you have the biggest fucking crush on her"

"What!?" he spat "I don't know what's going on with you today, where did you get all these ideas? I-"

"Oh my god please shut up Joel" she groaned, rolling her eyes "That rude asshole act you do around y/n may work with her, but you don't fool me, Miller"

Ellie could swear she saw a hint of panic in his eyes

"I know you like her, just like I know she likes you" She finally said, done with this little act "I honestly don't get why you two don't just declare your love to one another and live happily ever after or some shit"

It was like he froze,

and while Ellie thought it was because he'd just been busted by a 14-year-old, it was for a wholly different reason

"she doesn't like me" he stated

And at that, at that Ellie could just groan as her palm descended dramatically down the length of her face

God, she'd always known he wasn't the brightest, but this? This is a little too much even for him

"Are you blind or something?" she threw her hands out for emphasis "She's definitely better at hiding it than you, I'll give you that, but I mean, still... it's fucking obvious dude!"

"Ellie" Joel only shook his head "you 'don't know whatcha talkin' 'bout"

Ellie was now very close to yelling at him.

"Joel I'm serious, she likes likes you!" she argued, "why do you find that so hard to believe?"

But of course, Ellie couldn't have known what was going on in Joel's mind, how certain he was that it wasn't true,

about how he knew he didn't deserve someone like you, someone so kind and beautiful and smart,

how he had spent months trying to get the thought of you to leave his tainted mind,

how he'd decided to be mean, rough, rude to you in the hopes that you would stop being so nice to him, in the hopes that you would start to avoid him, to hate him, and he'd never have to see you or that gorgeous smile again.

And finally, Ellie didn't know about how he was too incredibly, terribly old for you, for such a pretty young woman.

Half his hair was gray for god's sake, he never had a chance

"I could be her father Ellie" he finally confessed what had been eating up at him for so long "I'm too fuckin' old"

Ellie didn't even need a moment to take that it, she listened, thought about it, and immediately rolled her eyes

"SO WHAT?"

You don't understand how long she had to pretend not to want to give the both of you a good shake,

it was only right for her to finally shout it out

"First of all, you're not that old" she started listing, "second of all, she obviously doesn't care" she continued "and finally Joel, if you really like her, and if she really likes you, then it doesn't matter!"

But Joel was not convinced, he'd spent too long telling himself the opposite, and he couldn't even fathom the possibility of what Ellie was saying

"you just have to tell her"

she said it like it was easy, like the mere thought of it didn't give Joel a minor heart attack, like he hadn't woken up from multiple dreams where he would confess his love and you would laugh at his face, or worse, tell him you felt the same, something Joel knew not to be the truth.

Also, Joel had no idea when exactly throughout this conversation he'd admitted to liking you, but I guess it didn't matter now, it made no sense to keep the farse on.

"I can't Ellie, I-"

"oh my god you're such a chicken" she moaned "You're the one that always tells me to be brave!"

"that's different"

"how!?" she bugged her eyes, holding her palms up in show of her frustration "I get that it's scary, but what's the worst thing that could happen?"

And that, for some reason, stuck with him,

He really had nothing to lose,

It's not like you were friends or you would talk often, it's not like he would be ruining a relationship, there wasn't one,

And yet... yet it still terrified him,

"Ellie... I don't know"

"c'mon man, but your big boy pants on" she groaned "I'm telling you, she fucking likes you"

__ __ __

Joel didn't do it.

He couldn't. He just-

You were perfect, you were perfect in a way that made him feel all the more dirty,

like being close to you, talking to you, touching you... would be like plucking a flower with torn-up hands,

And fuck him, but Joel was scared, like he'd gone back 40 years and become 16 all over again.

He couldn't do it, he couldn't, wouldn't do it, and he'd set his mind to that, made peace with his cowardness and dread.

Until of course, Ellie's twisted mind came up with a way to force his fears to life.

"Howdy"

The kid was smiling so broadly that she looked like a child with a brand-new toy,

but Joel's eyes were somewhere else,

he was looking at you

"Hi Joel" you smiled, punching a knife into his gut

You were at his front door with his kid, who was very clearly plotting something, and Joel wondered for a moment if this was what would finally make his heart give out.

"Hi," he said, his voice sounding distant

Why is she here?

"Aren't you gonna let us in?" Ellie urged,

Us?

"Uhm, I-"

but Ellie had already sneaked inside, dragging you behind

And now the awkward scene was even more awkward, just at the entrance of his home.

"All alright" Ellie clapped her hands, watching Joel stare at you as you tried to avoid his gaze "I'm gonna go to my room," she said, shouldering him not so subtly

"Cool down dude" she mumbled, before disappearing upstairs.

What the fuc-

"I'm sorry to barge in like this" you finally spoke, a gentle smile on your lips "Ellie said you needed to tell me something, so I just... came here I guess" you finished with an awkward laugh

Fuck-fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

"If it's too much trouble I'll just go-"

"no," Joel said, before he could stop himself, finally realizing he was still holding the door's knob, and in a spur of bravery, deciding to use it to close the door.

"Oh, ok" you mumbled, puzzled by his demeanor "so uhm, what is it you needed to tell me?"

God damn that fucking trick-playing kid of his

"do you- do you want something to drink?"

the question took you aback, but then you did something that stunned Joel even more, you laughed,

you laughed softly, quickly, like you were letting out all this stupid awkwardness in a simple gesture

because that's how you were: Magical

"Sure" you shrugged, grinning "some water would be nice"

If Joel had to watch your face for an instant more he feared he was gonna explode, so he did all he could think of, he walked to the kitchen, only glancing at you again when he handed you your drink,

to his dismay, finding a smile still drawn on your lips.

"thank you" you said, taking a sip

god, even the way your lips wrapped around the rim made him want to drop to his knees.

He needed to get a grip.

"so... are you gonna tell me or do I have to guess?" you joked, your fingers drawing patterns on the glass

Was this really happening?

Was this hell?

"I..." he trailed off, running a hand through his hair as he glanced from the counter to you on repeat "I wanted to tell you that..."

"that?"

"that- the uhm-" he shut his eyes for a second, searching for words "the...bread you gave us this week was real good"

Goddamnit

"oh"

Even you couldn't hide your disappointment

I mean, you certainly didn't expect it. A compliment from Joel Miller? What universe were you in?

Just like you didn't expect any of this... him actually letting you in his house or offering you water...

You had half expected him to shut the door in your face,

The most he had ever given you was a half smile at a joke you told him while he was picking up bread, the rest were all rude grumbles or just a bunch of stoic looks...

and yet... yet a part of you couldn't help but have set expectations a little higher.

What a silly fool you'd been,

hoping for a love confession from a man who has made it very clear he despises you,

but still- a girl can dream, right?

"thank you" you mumbled, as Joel cursed himself over and over in his head "that's very nice of you," you smiled, stalling a second to see if he was gonna say something else, interrupt you at some point,

but he remained silent

"well if that's all, I'm gonna go then, thank you for the water I-"

Until he wasn't

"no-stop- I-"

Ellie was right.

He had to do this, he had to win his fear and try at least, or he was gonna regret it for the rest of his life, and he already had too many of those.

The problem was that you looked really beautiful today, and he'd never been good with words

Fuck it- if he was gonna make a fool of himself so be it,

He had nothing to lose and everything to win,

he had you to win.

"Yes?" you asked, trying to tame your hopes down

Think Joel, think

how the fuck do you tell a woman you like her?

"There's one other thing I've been meaning to tell ya" he cleared his throat, standing up straighter as he took a step closer to you.

"'m not great at doing this type of thing" he admitted, shaking his head slightly "but Ellie... she's right, I'm always tellin' her to be brave and everythin', so... I guess it's my turn now," he said, letting out a short, anxious laugh "I don't even know- I guess what I'm tryna say is that I'm gonna be honest now, but I want you to know that- that I know what you're gonna say and it's ok" he swallowed thickly, preparing himself from your inevitable rejection "I understand, really, I just- I thought I should try at least"

What was going on?

What the fuck was he saying?

"Joel, what are you talking about?"

This was it.

It was now or never.

"Y/n I-"

his heart was beating out of his chest, and his legs felt like jelly, but he had to do it, he had to take a leap of faith-

"Y/n I like you" he breathed like the words longed to be out of his mouth "I like you a lot, I have for a while now"

he watched your mouth part, your whole face filling with shock as you blinked over and over, trying to make sure this was really happening.

"Y-you like me?"

"yes" he nodded "And as I said, I know you don't feel the same, I know I'm old, and I've been an asshole to you all this time, so it's ok, really I-"

"stop talking Joel" you huffed a laugh, stepping closer, and then closer again, until your hand was on his arm "please just-" you bit down a smile, and he was so confused, so fucking confused, "say it again," you asked

"I like you y/n" he murmured, trying to get his mind to start working again,

but you were leaning closer,

and who cared what his name was anyway

"you were rude to me"

"I was, I'm sorry I-"

You pretended to be thinking about it, glancing upwards as you pursed your lips together

But who were you kidding?

"you're forgiven" you smiled, looking up at him as you slowly raised yourself on your tiptoes to gently, oh so gently, press your lips to his.

Joel was certain he had just died.

But then he opened his eyes again, and you were still there, beaming up at him, and he felt such a wave of happiness that he could have started crying right there,

only he took on a different route and grabbed each side of your face with his hands, crashing his lips with yours and kissing you, kissing you like he'd been dreaming of for months

exactly how you imagined he would,

better than you imagined, actually

so much better.

"Ha! I told you, Joel!"

He groaned as he leaned away, shooting Ellie an annoyed glance

"What are you doin' here?"

"just came here to gloat" she shrugged, watching you two with a grin plastered on her face

"I think you've done enough of that" he muttered, but you could only smile

"thank you, Ellie," you grinned "Thank you for doing this"

She raised her brows, looking at Joel as if saying "See, she's thanking me, why aren't you?", but then her expression got more genuine as she shot you a smile

"you're welcome" she smiled "Better having to see you kiss than having to put up with Joel being all sad 'cause you're talking to Jack or any other guy"

You gasped with amusement as Joel shut his eyes in embarrassment, his cheeks tainting with red

"Ellie-" Joel grumbled,

A soft giggle flowed through the room as Ellie turned away and went back up to her room, seemingly satisfied with her work

"You were jealous?" you teased him, your hands on his chest, while he'd moved one of his from your face to your waist.

"maybe I was" he fessed up

You smiled even brighter

"And you like me?" you asked for the thousandth time

"yes, sweetheart, I really fuckin' like you" he smiled too now, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that made time stand still and the world spin around

"I like you too Joel" you finally said, giving the man an actual mini-stroke.

"say it again"

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foreveralbon · 3 days

Text

go ahead and smile - mv33

in which max is the only person who can bring her back to normal wc: 2k of straight yapping i'm so sorry

i really don't know if i like this or not but oh well

Days like these are the worst. The ones where it’s easier to stay quiet and closed off than feign smiles and laughter.

It’s not often that you succumb to these mood swings, but when you do it’s difficult to get out. Thoughts swirl around your head - everything and nothing all at once. Messages stay unread, unanswered and calls are declined by the first ring. The curtains stay shut and you move about the world, eyes sullen and lips downturned in a small frown. A ghost of yourself.

Sometimes all that you ache to do is to reach out and hold someone you love and remind them of it, and have everything as normal as it used to be before you shut yourself out.

But by then it’s become a routine, one where people know not to bother you because no matter what they do or what they say, none of them can break you out of your shell.

It’s only ever Max who can do that.

His smile, his smell, his touch, his presence is the one thing that can bring you back down to earth. Day after day, he reminds you that he’s always there waiting for you at the end of your bouts. You’ve come to rely on him to know what to do when you’re like this - God knows you can barely think straight, so caught up in your own head that you don’t realise what’s going on around you.

It’s hard for him to help you if he doesn’t know, though. It’s been ten days since you’ve seen him in person, and four days since you’ve spoken to anyone but him. The isolation has fallen like a blanket over you, warm and comforting but a barrier to the world you aren’t willing to remove. Except for Max.

See, it’s far more simple to fake normalcy over text than in person, and although Max knows you better than anyone else, even he can’t tell that you’ve closed yourself off through the messages you send back and forth.

Come Wednesday night and you weren’t expecting him home, but the click of the front door is a pleasant surprise. You’re swaddled in the warmth of your bed, an old movie playing softly in the background as you watch with hooded eyes.

He calls out for you, and you can hear the scuff of his feet as he slips his shoes off, making his way through his house in search of you.

“In the room,” you call back.

Max raps lightly against your bedroom door, peeking in when you don’t respond. His face lights up at the sight of you. He rushes to your side, grabbing your face to kiss you in greeting. “Hi, schatje.”

“Hi, bub,” you say. You hug him tightly, but your grip isn’t as strong as it usually is, to the point where Max has to tap out to breathe as he jokes that you’re suffocating him.

Instead, you burrow your face into his neck, inhaling the strong scent of his cologne, hands tracing the lines of muscle on his back. It's a weak attempt in grounding yourself, but the heaviness that weighs down your shoulders is still there after a moment in his embrace.

So you just groan inwardly, moving to brush your cheek against his. “Good day?”

He hums in affirmation as he rears back a bit, blue eyes mapping the slope of your face. One look at your withdrawn figure and he can tell.

The bed dips when he sits beside you. He starts to rub comforting circles on your back, big palm warm against your chilly flesh. In his mind, he’s already formulating the right plan, following an unspoken routine that he keeps for times like these.

He’s never been the best at reasoning with others, but for you, he speaks with the softest voices, comes to the most understanding solution if that’s what it takes to bring you back to him.

“How about we go out for dinner, and if you don’t feel like eating more than an entrée, we can leave?” He compromises. When he’s met with silence, Max pulls you in closer, his lips lovingly meeting your temple as he murmurs, “Please, I’ve missed you, I want to spend time with you. Just an hour.”

You relax into his touch with a resigned sigh. “Fine. One hour. Then we go home.”

—

Dinner is far from good.

You sit there, picking at the Greek salad you’d ordered, pushing the greens around your plate. Max is sat awkwardly across from you, forking pasta into his mouth in long intervals.

The restaurant buzzes around you, waiters bustling about with silverware and stacked arms of dirty dishes. A couple next to you, bouyantly joyful, clink wine glasses and talk with wide smiles. You can't help the spark of jealousy in your chest at the sight of them. It should be you who's as cheerful as they are, having a great night with the love of your life as you mark his return home.

And yet, you can't find it in yourself to speak.

It takes for you to drain your second glass of wine before Max tries to break the silence. “How has work been?”

“Good,” you mumble. “But I’ve called in sick for the last three days. Didn’t feel like leaving home.”

“You didn’t mention that to me.” Max frowns, dropping his fork onto his plate. He reaches out to grab your hand, your smaller palm fitting perfectly into the crevices of his calloused one. “You should’ve told me.”

You shrug dismissively. “I didn't want to bother you with it.”

“That's bullshit, you could never bother me. Not with things like this.” His eyes hold a pity that you can't bear to see. The carvings on the edge of the wooden table suddenly become far more interesting, and you waver under his gaze.

It doesn't take long for you to bite out a harsh, “Can we leave now?”

He inhales, like he wants to say something. But then he mutters a low fuck before calling for the waiter's attention. As the man starts to make his way to you, you stand abruptly, chair screeching so loud against the tiled floor that even Max winces at the pitch.

“I'm gonna wait in the car, yeah?”

You barely lasted forty-five minutes.

—

If you thought the car ride was going to be any better, you were greatly mistaken. If anything, it's been far more tense than anything you've ever experienced with Max.

Your fists are curled, nails pressing crescent-moon indents into the sofy skin, and you have your teeth clenched so tightly, your gums and jaw are beginning to ache.

Max’s demeanour, however, is the complete opposite of yours. The sleeves of his dress shirt have been folded up to his elbows (courtesy of you; he’s always been the kind of get his cuffs dirty while eating), and he leans back in his seat, one hand on the steering wheel and the other in his lap, calmness and relaxation personified.

The car slows to a stop as he approaches a red light. On any other day, red lights are his opportunity to sneak a kiss from you, a touch, anything. But now, you stay staring ahead, refusing to meet his gaze.

“Oh, I love this song!” He exclaims suddenly. He taps the steering wheel in succession to the beats of the song playing on the radio, whistling in a half-assed attempt to keep a proper tune. Normally, the sound of his broken whistles would be enough to crack a smile out of you, make you howl in laughter as you tease him even.

But now, you just purse your lips and reach to turn the volume down, the biggest reaction he’s gotten out of you since the restaurant.

“Come on, schatje,” Max mutters dejectedly. “Don’t do that.”

Your silence is your greatest virtue though, so he takes it as a sign to stop, the car ride quiet all the way home.

You’re out of the car the moment Max turns the off the engine, door slamming loudly behind you.

Max trails behind you into the apartment, lights flickering on when he steps in. He watches you busy yourself with turning all the lights on and opening doors to let Jimmy and Sassy into the rooms.

It's just before you enter the kitchen - to pour yourself a cup of tea, he's ready to assume - when he rushes up to you. “Wait, wait.”

“What?” You frown in confusion.

Max just rests a light hand on your shoulder, guiding you to the comfort of your room. It's the first step to his master plan: take you somewhere familiar, somewhere you feel safe. He pushes you down on the edge of the bed and crouches in between your knees.

He grins up at you as your frown deepens. “What're you doing, bub?”

His fingers press into your cheeks, pushing them back to stretch your lips into the closest thing he can get to a smile. “See? It’s not the real thing, but that there’s the girl I know. Smiley.”

“Stop, Max,” you whine as you swat his arm away.

“I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me,” he coaxes gently. “I know it’s one of those times but I can’t help make it better if you don’t tell me what caused it. I'm ready to talk about it when you are.”

Truth is, you really don’t know what caused it this time round. Sometimes, you can pinpoint the change to a certain event. Other times, it just happens. It’s so easy to stop smiling because it doesn’t feel like there’s a proper reason to. Because there’s no one to smile for, nothing to be happy about. Then the isolation turns you in on yourself, nothing to pull you from under that blanket of loneliness.

“I don’t know,” you admit. Your throat feels scratchy because of your prolonged silence and the words feel far too forced. “I just… wasn’t in the mood to be happy.”

His tone is soothing, raspy voice whispering with a care you’re more than familiar with. “Is it because I wasn’t there?”

You swallow the lump in your throat, shaking your head. Then you pause before nodding as an afterthought. “I don't know. Honestly.”

“Oh, schatje. It doesn’t have to be like that, you know. You don’t have to push people away.” He speaks to you softly, never falling into the cusp of condescending like how so many people have chosen to treat you in these times. He reaches over the console to brush loose strands of hair away from your face, pausing momentarily when you watch him with a desperation in your eyes. A look that pleads with him to help you leave this bad headspace.

“Sometimes,” you whisper, “it feels like there’s no point. I just want to stay home and stay silent and not have to do anything or listen to anyone. And I know I shouldn’t, so I don’t. But then it just happens even when I don’t mean for it to. I don’t know how to make it stop, Max.”

“I know you don't want it to,” Max laments, “and I know sometimes it feels like you can only find help here-” He taps your temple gently “-But it doesn't have to be like that. You don't have to shut me out or shut yourself out, and you definitely don't have to pretend that you're alright when I'm not here. So call me, text me. I'll answer, because I don't want you feeling alone. I don't want you to push me away. When I come home, I don't this version of you because it kills me to see you trapped in yourself. I want you. My smiley girl.”

His words tug at your heartstrings, a hurt that only comes about from caring too much. From loving too much. It's foolish, you know, to try and stop the tears but Max is more than consoling when it comes, brushing away your pain with the pads of his fingers.

“I'm sorry for being a bitch earlier.” But your apology needs no accepting.

Max rests your head against his shoulder, his shallow breaths calming your racing heart. He’s home and everything is right.

It’ll take a moment for it to go back to normal, though. For your home to light up again, for the messages on your phone to be answered and for your friends to become your people again. But it’ll happen. It always does.

Then with a soft kiss to your forehead, Max cements his place in your heart. “Now smile for me.”

—

author’s note: and if only i had a max for times like these lol i think i'd be a bit more sane

@namgification @lipringlrh @queen-aria-things @disneyprincemuke @demvnsriot @hiireadstuff @33-81 let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist!

#liyah writes #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen angst #formula one x you #formula one x reader #f1 x reader #f1 imagine

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princessbrunette · 2 days

Note

yk who i miss gonner!rafe like i just imagine him giving you a body inspection before and fater you go to a girls night

"baby i gotta make sure this pussy only has my cum in it"

i miss gooner!rafe because… well, it’s literally the jittery coked up s1 rafe that we all love 😣

ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

he’d offered to pick you up from your friends house after a girls night. you were not dating rafe by any stretch of the word — but it was clear he carried some sort of sick obsession with you, already standing infront of his car waiting for you on the street when you’d stumbled out the house, a little tipsy.

he’d made awkward eye contact with your friends, knowing they knew how the two of you were fucking like rabbits and cleared his throat, looking around.

“thanks for picking me up.” you giggle as you approach him, and he eyes you — unabashedly because he was past caring if you saw that kind of thing.

“uh…” he stares as he scratches his cheek, glassy eyed and unfocused for a second. “yeah.”

you go to reach for the car door handle but he blocks your path, licking his lips. he seemed jittery and a little on edge, so you furrow your eyebrows looking up at him inquisitively.

“rafe?”

“were you hangin’ out with guys… tonight?” he comes out with it. again, he wasn’t your boyfriend — so really, he had no place asking such things. yes, there were guys there — but you specifically hadn’t really been hanging out with them, a couple of them just accompanying your friends for a little while. for the most part it really was just a girls night. when you take a moment to think, dumbly staring up at him he tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “huh?”

“no— well, there were guys there for a little while but they were just… they were there for my friends. why does it even matter?” as soon as you admit that there were guys present, he licks his lips, standing up straight and staring over your head at the house. he wipes his clammy hands on his shorts and shrugs you off when you touch his arm. you go to continue explaining, or more so asking why he cares but he speaks once more — overlapping your own voice.

“are you fuckin’ them then? letting them inside that… that pussy that i thought was just mine?” he blinks at you irritably and your eyes widen at the insinuation.

“no! god no. i barely even spoke to them. if i knew that wasn’t even allowed i would have —”

“yeah, nah see i don’t… i don’t believe you.” he takes your wrist slowly but with pressure and crowds you against the car, looking around before starting to ruck your skirt up.

“rafe— rafe they’re just inside. can’t do this here—” your breath hitches as he kicks your feet wider apart.

“i really don’t care alright just — just let me check.” he grits his teeth a little when you resist him before he smacks your hand out the way and pulls your panties to the side. you’re wet, and for once he doesn’t like that because who was inside that house getting you so wet? his nose twitches in disapproval as you stare up at him helpless with watery doe eyes, unable to do anything but let him inspect you.

he pushes his fingers in and you groan, because it feels good and you can’t help it — and to this he huffs out a quiet sarcastic ‘ha.’ laugh at the fact you’re enjoying it as he shakes his head, continuing to dig around. “didn’t fuck anyone r— rafe. even if i did do you really think i’d be dumb enough to let them cum inside me?”

“yeah you know i think… i think that dick does make you dumb. i’ve seen it first fuckin’ hand okay so i don’t know. just hope you’re not slutting yourself out to these nobodies.” he warns and you shake your head, clutching his wrist as your cunt flutters around his fingers. it begins to become less of an inspection and more of him just straight up fingering you as he presses you to the car.

“m’not! i wouldn’t! rafe i— i only want your dick. s’why m’so wet, knew you were comin’ to get me n’just wanted to hump on you.” you pout. like magic, you suddenly become aware of the way he’s stiffened up against your leg, a minuscule smirk biting at the corners of his lips at the way you stroked his ego.

“alright… shit, yeah… yeah okay.” he agrees, before pulling his fingers out and backing off. you fix your skirt, eyes flickering over to the house you just left to make sure no one was watching before staring up at rafe obediently. he huffs out a breath, fixing himself in his pants before nodding towards the car. as you go to turn to get in, he quickly changes his mind and yanks you back round to face him making you gasp. “not without cleaning up your mess. c’mere.” he grits, stuffing his fingers into your mouth. you mewl, sucking off the remains of your arousal as he watches closely before removing them and forcefully spinning you around to face the car. he slaps your ass before jogging round to his side. “get in.”

ᥫ᭡ㅤ⠀ㅤ ࣪ 𓈒⠀ྀིㅤׂㅤ ʚɞྀ

#anon #rafe cameron prompt #gooner!rafe

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eddiesxangel · 17 hours

Text

Never Have I Ever… | E.M x Virgin!Reader

TJ’s 2K Request celebration!

@nailbatanddungeon : “I have a request for youuu. Okay, this is Eddie x Virgin!reader, reader is still new to everything, but there is one thing that the reader needs but is scared to push because the reader is TOUCH STARVED (So am I)”

Cw: reader and Eddie are in their mid to late 20’s, touch starved virgin!reader, angst, fluff, alcohol, throwing up(too much alcohol consumption), hangovers, fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v, protected sex. Friends to lovers

WC: 3.1k

I hope you enjoy!! 💗

“You’ll get there; you’re just a late bloomer, is all”

A late bloomer, you’ve heard it your whole life- and you’re sick of it. Sick of feeling behind in life? You’re in your twenties now and getting absolutely shit-faced because you’ve never done anything in this game of never have I ever.

You, Nancy, Steve, Eddie, Robin, Jonathan, and a few others were at the block party, and you somehow ended up involved in the juvenile game.

“Never have I ever kissed the same gender,” you drank.

“Never have I ever dumped anyone,” you drank.

“Never have I ever smoked weed,” you drank.

“Never have I ever said the wrong name in bed.” That’s rich because you’ve never been in a bed with anyone to begin with.

You hadn’t relized how much you’ve had to drink until you stood up.

“Woah, you okay?” You hear Nancy speak as you wobble.

You had wanted to get up and get more to drink because, unlike the others, your cup was empty.

“Yeah.” You tried to get out, but it sounded more like a grunt to the others.

Ignoring their protests, you stumbled your way back to the kitchen, feeling sorry for yourself.

You fumble with the lid of the hard liquor bottle until a strong ring-clad hand clasps over yours. You freeze, pissed off and embarrassed, knowing who the hand belongs to.

Even in your inebriated state, you get that same feeling whenever he is around you. You feel the heat in your cheeks instantly as the butterflies in your stomach irrupts.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Sweetheart.”

You look down, not wanting to see the look on his face.

“I don’t care” you slur. God, you will hate yourself in the morning.

Of all people, it had to be Eddie to come and check on you?

That’s how he was—always worried, always babying you because you “weren’t experienced in life,” according to his words, and it made you mad! It made you seem like a child, and you were sick of people treating you as such. You were a grown woman, you had a 9:00-5:00, an apartment, and a degree, but none of that mattered—not when it came to dating and love.

“Sweetheart, please, you need to slow down.”

“Why?” You rolled your eyes. “I’m a big girl I can handle my alcohol.” You huffed.

“I just think�� "

"IM TIRED OF WHAT YOU THINK!" you've had enough. No one took you seriously, and you couldn't help that Eddie happened to be the only one to feel your wrath.

"Woah, okay-okay, I’m sorry."

“I’m sick of everyone treating me like a child!" the dam broke, and streams of mascara fell down your cheeks.

"I don't think you're a child." Eddie timidly reached out his comforting hand.

"Yes, you do."

"When have— "

"ANY TIME WE ARE OUT, EDDIE! Like last week at the bar, I was so close to getting that guy's number and you swooped in acting like my father!"

"Sweetheart I—"

"Don't sweetheart me!" You cut him off once again. "It's demeaning."

"y/n. Let me take you home. We can talk about this tomorrow."

"I don’t want to."

"Too bad we are going." Eddie no longer gave you a choice. He took your hand and started to pull you along with him.

You stumbled, tripping over your feet because your balance was gone completely.

“Woah, see my point exactly.”

“Shut up.” You mumble, and Eddie can’t help but stifle a laugh. You were so cute.

Eddie didn’t mean to make you think you were juvenile…. He admired you and wanted to protect you; you were a woman to him, all women. He liked you; he really liked you. The only reason he swoops in is because he doesn’t want you with anyone who isn’t him, not because he doesn’t think you’re not capable… He dreams about how capable you can be. He just didn’t have the balls to say it to your face.

The thought of you not having any experience never even crossed his mind. He still had no clue you’d never been intimate with someone; he didn’t even know how inexperienced you were until the game. He watched and raised an unknowing brow each time you took a gulp.

Eddie took your keys from your hands and unlocked your front door for you. The whole car ride had been eerily silent. You didn’t dare speak a word without the threat of vomit coming up with it.

You silently stumbled into your home. Eddie followed closely behind. He helped you take off your sneakers. He led you to the bathroom and found some makeup wipes to help you take off your makeup, but halfway through, you turned to the toilet as the tequila made its way back up.

That’s when you broke; you were so embarrassed. “What’s wrong with me?” You cried.

“Nothing is wrong with you, swee-.” But he cut himself off, remembering that you scolded him earlier in the evening.

“Yes, there is something wrong with me! Nobody wants me.”

“That’s not true.” Eddie stroked the back of your head as you emptied out the contenders of your stomach into the porcelain bowl.

“Then why am I still a virgin?!” You sobbed.

Eddie was stunned, speechless. He had no idea. He just thought you didn’t like sharing your sex life, not that you didn’t have one.

So he let you cry into his chest. Your tears stained his shirt, but he didn’t care; he was here to take care of you.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” he guided you after he helped you ride your mouth out.

You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow. Eddie thought of leaving but was worried you would need him if you woke up, so he took the couch.

You awoke with a throbbing pain pounding in your head. You were never drinking again. The night was murky; you started remembering bits and pieces but not everything. You get up and notice the bottle of painkillers and a glass of water you definitely didn’t put there.

Then you remembered Eddie bringing you home and let out an aggravated groan. How could you have been so messy? And in front of Eddie, out of all people? Why couldn’t Robin and Nancy bring you home? What did you say to him? Were you mean? Did you yell at him? You remember crying, but the reasoning was foggy.

You begrudgingly take the water and pills and almost gag, trying to get them down, but you manage. You also smell like a minibar, so you strip and walk to your bathroom.

After a long hot shower, you get dressed and must put some food into your empty stomach.

You walked past a sleeping Eddie, not seeing him curled up in the living room, and started noisily making yourself some breakfast.

“Is that the way you wake up all your guests?”

You screamed as you threw the fork you had in fright.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” You clench your chest as you take big breaths to calm your racing heart.

“Sorry, Angel”

Angel… that’s new? It’s always been sweetheart.

“I didn’t know you stayed?”

“Yeah… you um. Were in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want you to be alone... so I slept in the couch. I hope that’s okay”

“Thank you, Eddie, I’m sorry I ruined your night.” You looked down, ashamed.

“You didn’t ruin it.” He shook his head.

“Well, I owe you one,” you giggle awkwardly. Eddie and you hardly ever hang out one-on-one.

“How are you feeling?”

“Like absolute shit.” You hand Eddie a black coffee.

“Yeah, well, you really went hard in that game of never have I ever.”

You met out a moan of embarrassment. Your memory came flooding back.

Mortification consumed you as you didn’t want to look Eddie in the eyes. You cried in his arms last night after you puked your guys out.

“Oh god”

“It’s okay, Angel. Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“What happened to sweetheart?” You tried to change the subject.

“You said it was demeaning…”

“Oh god, I did?” You peek up and see Eddie silently nod his head yes.

“I’m sorry, it’s not… I like the nickname. I just…. I was feeling so emotional last night, and the alcohol.” You tried not to gag at the thought.

“S’all good.” He shrugged. But he was replaced to hear you liked being called sweetheart. It suited you; he didn’t call anyone else that, either. It was reserved just for you.

“Um, so about last night, you mentioned nobody wanting you….” Oh god, was he really doing this now? “I don’t think that’s true.” Yes, he was.

“Huh?” You sit up, taking a sip of your coffee.

“You cried about how you didn’t think anyone wanted you, but it’s not true… I want you.”

Did you hear that right? Did you get water in your ears from the shower?

“You do?” Your eyes widen.

“Yeah,” he looks at you sheepishly.

“Oh?” You were in shock.

“Shit-I-I’m sorry, I ruined everything.” Eddie stood up, but you stood up with him, not wanting him to leave.

“No, Eddie, wait!” You grab his shoulder and turn him to face you. You couldn’t let him leave, not now.

“Sweeetheart, please let me be mortified in peace.”

“Kiss me.”

Eddie stares at you before you tell him one more time.

“Kiss me, Eddie.”

Then you feel his hands grip the back of your head and pull you in.

You didn’t think anything could cure your hangover but this comes pretty damn close.

You melt into his touch, his hands cup your head, your hands find his waist. It feels right, so right you think you’re floating.

No one had kissed you in what felt like years, and maybe it had been, but it was worth the wait.

Hands danced around one another’s bodies, and tongues and teeth clashed. It was messy; it was needy.

“Woah woah woah, sweetheart, hold on.” Eddie pulled back breathlessly.

“What’s wrong?” You look up at him, concerned…. Had he changed his mind?

“I think we should slow down.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. We have time.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I’ve waited long enough.”

“Sweetheart, I don’t think—"

"No! I need this, I want this." You look him dead in the eyes.

"You tell me if you want to stop, okay? Promise me."

"Okay, Eddie."

Eddie waists, not another second to take you in a feverish kiss. His hands roam your body, landing on your ass. It excites you so much you can feel the familiar tingling ruminating lower and lower.

You moan his name and press your whole body into his; you need to feel him, all of him… and you can. His hard cock is digging into your hip bone, and you connect your bodies.

Stumbling back without breaking the kiss, Eddie leads you to your bedroom. You fall backwards onto your bed with a gasp.

hovering above you is Eddie. You can see the lust behind his eyes as he scans your body.

"If im doing anything you don't like, tell me. This is about you, okay?"

“Okay,” you breathe as he lowers down to his knees. You watch his hands run up the tops of your thighs before spreading them wider so he can have access to where he wants you the most.

Running his fingers down your centre, you can’t help but moan at the feeling. You are greedy; you want to feel everything all at once.

Wasting no more time, you pull down the stretchy waistband of your pants and yank your underwear down with it. No time to be self-conscious- the need to feel Eddie fueled your desire.

“Beautiful,” Eddie whispered as he left a trail of kisses up your thigh, hovering just above your mound.

“Can I taste you?”

“Yes, please. Take care of me, I want it so bad,” You whine desperately. If you weren’t so horny, you’d be embarrassed by your words, but with Eddie, everything felt right.

Eddie’s lips latched into your soaked pussy, and you watched as his eyes rolled back in enjoyment. He didn’t hold back; he wanted this to be the best head of your life, even if it’s the only head of your life. You grip his hair in your fist, not expecting the pleasure to ripple through you so quickly.

“Taste so good, sweetheart; I wanna live in this pussy.”

“Oh god!” You cry as a single digit breaches your wanton hole.

Slowly, with his tongue and his finger pumping into you, you’re nearly there. Considering how long you’ve waited for this moment, it doesn't take much more. You’re cumming within minutes.

“Good girl, you okay?” he slaps the inside of your thigh and your body jerks.

“More,” you beg. It wasn’t enough; nothing would be able to satiate you until his cock was deep inside you.

“You sure? We can stop if you’re not ready”

“Need you now.” You grab him by the shirt collar and pull him towards you for a searing kiss.

“Okay,” he mumbles into your mouth, crawling up your body.

You loved the feel of his weight on top of you, consuming you with every kiss.

“Want you, Eddie” you moan as your hands toy with the hem of his shirt.

“You have me.” He dips his head lower to caress your throat with his lips.

Your breath hitches when you feel his teeth scrape across your soft, delicate skin.

Eddie didn’t lift his head until he was satisfied with the dark mark left on your neck.

When he unlatched from your throat, you demanded he take his clothes off.

Eddie loved your eagerness; he saw a spunk in you that he could only have dreamed of.

You also removed the rest of your clothing as he stripped.

When Eddie removed his last layer over his head, he couldn’t help but ogle your body, the way your head sunk into the pillows, your breasts, your soaked pussy on display for him. He was devouring you with his eyes.

You motion him to you with a single finger, breaking him out of the trace you put him under.

“God, you’re so beautiful.” Eddie was like a feline the way he crawled up on the bed to you.

The heat rushed to your cheeks; somehow, this felt more intimate than what he was doing between your legs a moment ago.

“I want you,” you repeat yourself.

Eddie cups your face, and you cup his in return. His eyes bore into your soul, leaving not a trace unturned as he searched your entire being before kissing you one more.

You moan into his mouth, and Eddie’s cock grazes your mound collecting your slick as his hips ground into you.

“Ready?” He asked desperately; he needed to be inside of you.

“Yes.”

He quickly got up and you moaned,

“What are you?- oh,” you blush

You see him reach for his pants pocket for his wallet as he pulls out a condom.

Quickly he rips it open, and your mouth waters as he rolls it over his cock. This is the first time you’re seeing what he looks like down there, and you’re getting nervous because how is that supposed to fit?

“Sweetheart? You'll be okay.” He smirks.

Cocky, shit.

“If I have to ask you again, I’m going to do this myself.” You huffed.

“Oh really? How do you suppose that?” He pounced back on top of you.

“I have my toys.”

Eddie’s head drops back. “We will get back to that later. Now I’m going to fuck you.”

“Finally”

Eddie doesn’t respond. He just slowly slides his cock through your slick folds collecting your natural lube before inching his way inside of you.

“I need you to relax, sweetheart.” You naturally clench around him. He was so tickled and long. Never had you felt so full, but little did you know Eddie was only a quarter-way in.

“Fuck you’re big,” you gasp.

“No need to stroke my ego, baby girl”

That made your pussy clench down again.

“Oh, you like that?”

You nod your head, yes, unable to speak.

“Noted”

You could kill him if he wasn’t making you feel so good.

“Eddie!” You scream as he finally reaches the hilt, gripping him like a koala you don’t want to let go.

“Fuck, this pussy is so tight” Eddie slowly works his hips in and out of you; with each thrust, you can feel his bush brush against your clit, and it sends a tingle down your spine.

You moan in response; everything feels like it is on fire; never had you expected this level of sex. No wonder everyone is obsessed with it.

“Harder”

“You sure”

“Yes, god yes!”

Eddie's hips snap into you with such force your head almost hits the headboard. The bed is rocking; you have never experienced something so wanted, so needed, so absolutely taken over by someone else.

“Eddie! Eddie! Eddie!” You chant his name, which only makes him go harder. His fingers dug into your hips, gripping you so hard, not ever wanting to let you go.

“Fuck me, this pussy s'good.” He spits through his teeth. His primal side is showing, and you can't get enough.

Nothing can again amount to this amount of pleasure; you're ruined for life.

"You close, baby girl?" Edie smirks when he feels you clamp don't on his cock when he spits out the words.

A guttural moan is unleashed from your throat in response because, god, you're so close.

The pressure building inside of you is about to burst as Eddie's calloused fingers find your sensitive clit.

"Come on baby, I know you gotta another one for me. I know you do."

Eddies words tipped you over the edge. Your body seized as his thick cock continued to pump into your greedy pussy. Your orgasm took over, and Eddie watched you silently scream for him.

Before you became overstimulated, Eddie also came shortly after, only a few more pumps, and he spilled himself into the condom.

With Eddie beside you huffing and puffing, you couldn't wipe the stupid grin off your face.

"That good, huh?"

"I don't want to stroke your ego, but yeah... fuck me" You hid your face.

"I just did." Eddie rolled over to kiss all over your face and you can't help but giggle.

"I hope we can do that again," you shy away.

"Oh, we are one thousand percent doing that again. "

Tagging some mooties: @littlexdeaths @xxbimbobunnyxx @voyeurmunson @rowanswriting @lofaewrites

@starkeysprincess @strangerstilinski @taintedcigs @mmunson86 @paybacksawitch @stardancerluv

#Eddie Munson x you #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson x female reader #Eddie Munson x virgin!reader #Eddie Munson imagine

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 2 days

Text

30 / 1.1k / soap soulmate au, part 7

...

The minutes tick by. You're alone with your thoughts. It's worse than before. But what are you supposed to tell him? All but the smallest thing you could give him would lead his entire team to Captain Graves, and you... you can't do that. You owe him a debt.

The door slams open and Soap walks back in, looking tired and angry. Before you can speak, he grabs you by the arm, drags you out of your chair, and then he's kissing you, pressing you up against the wall. His hands are in your hair and on your hips, his hard body against yours, his teeth finding the place where your neck meets your shoulder.

Everything about it is possessive, angry, desperate. One hand slides around to your ass. The other weaves tighter into your hair, holding you tight between him and the wall, his hips grinding into yours.

"Thought I was gonna have to wait till you stopped being so damn stubborn. You were never going to tell me, were you?" His soft growl is low, heated, and hurt. "You’re always gonna keep this to yourself. Even if it means letting me go to my grave."

He pulls you away from the wall and pushes you into the metal interrogation table with enough force to put you on your back. He advances on you. Straddles you. His mouth is hot and he's not giving you time to think. He's taking what he needs because he wants it, he's tired of waiting for it, and he's finally got you where he wants you. His teeth on your throat have you arching your back. His grip is tight but you don't want to escape.

His fingers dig into you. "Will you even miss me?"

You open your eyes, jolting in place. A dream, it was a dream. You're still cuffed to this stupid chair. You're hot and wet and there's a horrible knot in your throat.

The door slides open. That's what woke you--activity outside. A few people filter into the weapons closet briefly to grab rifles and sidearms. They hardly spare you looks. They leave; the voices outside begin to fade and you hear an engine firing up. Muted panic rises in your gut. They're about to leave. Are they leaving you here? Is Johnny gone already?

Then the door rattles softly and Johnny's familiar shape slips in. He glances back out the door, watching for anyone who might’ve seen him slip in before he closes it. You release a breath through gritted teeth.

"Mornin’.” Soap is suited up, radioed, armed to the teeth. Looking every inch the soldier he is. Your heart sinks. You're in deep. No matter how this situation turns out, it's not good for you. Whoever wins, you lose.

Instead of taking the chair, he circles behind you. You rattle your cuffs as he leaves your line of sight.

"Change your mind?" he asks you.

"No."

He chuckles. "Thought not."

He bends closer. Your heart races. You half-expect to feel his hands--your dream flashes through your mind--but then, to your surprise, you hear the soft clink of metal on metal. He pulls on the cuffs. One falls away. Then the other.

You get to your feet, curling and uncurling your fingers. "Why are you letting me go?" you ask, voice still sharp. "I told you I'm not helping you."

Soap looks bemused. It's like you don't know how to stop being belligerent even when you're not a hostage anymore. "Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about. I’m under strict orders not to let you leave this room. But if you just so happen to vanish..." He holds up the key--the one he'd swiped from Ghost earlier. "That’d be fine with me.”

“What are you playing at?”

“There's a chance none of us will come back. Don't like the idea of you sittin' here like a rabbit in a trap for God knows how long." He holds out a neat little square of folded cash. When you don't take it, he reaches around and slips it into your back pocket. "There's a town four miles southwest of here. Set off in a half hour and you’ll get there before sundown. Take somethin' off the wall to protect yourself."

You stare at him, your frustration growing with every word he says. Why does he trust you enough to free you? Why? He knows very well you could pick up the first phone you see, call your Captain, and tell him everything. Hell, you could call Shepherd.

You tried your dead fucking best to show him who you are. Why doesn't he believe you? Does he think you're going to grab his hand and ask him to come with you--fuck the Shadows, fuck Las Almas, you know how to buy fake IDs and burner phones, you'll figure it out a day at a time?

Your throat tightens. You could obviously never say that. And if you did consider it, you'd bite your tongue because there's no way he'd accept. You have so much to gain from running away and he has too much to lose. He cares about his team too much.

He skims his gloved fingertips up your arm and goes to touch your cheek again, but then he hesitates and stops himself. You feel radioactive.

"How 'bout a kiss for the road?" he asks. He seems to decide on taking a strand of your hair and places it tentatively behind your ear. "Just in case."

Your hands tighten into fists. How dare he.

"Aw, c'mon. Don't make me walk away from you disappointed." He gives you a small, infuriating smile.

"If you want a kiss, then come back for it when you're done."

"Ah. Fair enough."

He brings his hands up to the sides of your face and presses his lips to your hairline anyway, leaning into you for a long, silent moment.

Then he's gone.

…

You sit cross-legged on that table for a long stretch of time, spinning in one hand the handcuffs that held you. You stare at that photograph and count the seconds. At thirty minutes, you set off, walking southwest.

...

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / [part 7] / part 8

more Soap / masterlist tag

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slut4thebroken · 2 days

Text

The Deal

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | frat/fuck boy!Robert Fisher x reader

Summary | You’re supposed to be tutoring Robert but he needs your help “taking care of something” before he can focus.

Warnings | Smut, public sex, dumbification, “accidental” creampie, fingering, kissing, him being kinda pervy, a little degradation, technically misogyny, coercion?, praise.

Words | 2.2 k

Notes | ty @hllywdwhre for all your help 😭🙏🏻

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Ever since the first time you tutored Robert at his place and he fucked you, you refused to go anywhere private for your sessions. Which usually meant you’d meet up at the library or a cafe. Today was no different. You met him at the library at 4 pm and, as always, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of your body.

“Robert, you actually have to look at what I’m writing to learn this.” You huffed, getting annoyed when you caught him staring at your tits for the fifth time in barely ten minutes.

“It’s not my fault you’re showing them off. I thought nerds were supposed to be prudes.” He smirked, making you blush a little. Honestly you didn’t get why Robert was paying for you to tutor him in the first place. He clearly didn’t care about learning the material.

“I’m not... “showing them off.’” You muttered. “If you want to actually pass this class, you should figure out how to pay attention.” He smirked at your attempt to be stern with him.

“You know, I’d be able to pay attention if my dick wasn’t hard.” He said casually, making you choke on your spit as your eyes widened. You still weren’t used to him talking like that. “And you look so fuckable in that sluttly little skirt.” His gaze dragged down your body to stare at your bare thighs.

“Robert, stop.” You warned, making his smirk widen.

“You said you want me to pay attention.” He said coyly. “So you can either get under the table and suck me off or we can go somewhere more private and I can fuck my load into that tight little cunt I haven’t been able to stop thinking about for the past month.” His voice was low and thick with arousal, and you swallowed audibly when his eyes fluttered back up to your face.

“N-no. We’re not doing that again, it was a mistake.” You cringed when you heard the waver in your voice.

“A mistake? Baby, if it was a mistake then why did it feel so good?” He purred.

“I’m serious, Robert.” You’re not the type of girl who partakes in one night stands and you’ve felt embarrassed and ashamed for weeks because of how easily you gave into temptation.

“So am I.” All of the amusement in this tone was suddenly gone. “Either stand up or get on your fucking knees.” You couldn’t help it when your thighs squeezed together a little from his words. “Well?” He asked impatiently. You bit your lip and looked away, trying to convince yourself that you didn’t want to do this again. And yet…

His smirk returned when you reluctantly got to your feet. “Good girl.” You followed him to the back of the library and once you were in a secluded area, he pushed you up against a shelf before pressing his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, forcing a muffled sound of surprise from you. His hands roamed your body, squeezing your breasts, going down the curve of your waist to your hips, then down even further to feel the soft skin of your thighs. As one hand snaked up underneath your skirt and cupped your heat, he let out a low groan into the kiss.

“God- I’ve missed this fucking cunt.” He whispered, moving down to start kissing over your neck. “And these tits.” His free hand pushed both your top and your bra up above your breasts.

“Robert, wait.” You whispered, trying to pull it back down. But he quickly leaned forward and took your nipple into his mouth, suckling on the hardened bud, effectively keeping you from covering yourself. “Someone could walk by.” You whispered more urgently this time, then gasped when his hand suddenly slipped in your panties to start rubbing your clit.

“Shh… Just be quiet and we’ll be fine, baby.” He murmured against you before simultaneously moving his mouth to your other nipple and pushing two fingers inside you. He let out a low, appreciative moan when he felt the tightness of your walls practically suffocating just two fingers. “I forgot how fucking tight you are.” He groaned, curling his fingers against your walls, making your hands fly up to cling to his shoulders.

“Robert.” You whimpered. He suddenly bit your nipple lightly, making you gasp as your hips bucked.

“I can’t believe I’ve gone all these years fucking the whores who throw themselves at me and not the nerds who keep their cunts nice and tight by not sleeping around.” He chuckled, pulling back to look at you as he pushed a third finger in. You let your head fall back against the shelf as your mouth opened in a silent moan, your hips just barely grinding on his hand. You could feel the bulge in his pants pushing against your leg now and you started panting at just the thought of what was about to happen.

When your back arched slightly, jutting your exposed breasts out more, he cursed under his breath and removed his fingers to start unbuckling his belt and opening his pants. You gasped as he suddenly spun you around and bent you forward a little. Wasting no time, he swiftly pulled your panties down just below your ass, then used one hand to hold your hip, while the other lined his cock up with your entrance.

“Wait— Condom.” You said quickly, making him pause. He huffed but released you and you looked over your shoulder, watching him pull out his wallet and look through it

“I don’t have one.” You bit your lip and glanced down at his cock. It was already beading precum and so incredibly flushed— your cunt pulsed at the thought of it finally inside you again.

“Okay- okay, just pull out.” You said firmly and he nodded before eagerly getting back into position. “I’m serious, Robert.” You said, making him roll his eyes.

“I know— I will.” He said impatiently. Once you got his verbal agreement, you turned back around, letting him line up again. The thick head of his cock dragged through your slit, spreading your arousal before pushing up against your hole. When his cock breached your entrance, you had to bite your lip to muffle the whimper that slipped out. He continued pushing deeper until his hips were flush with your ass and you let out a shaky breath as your walls struggled to accommodate the intrusion.

“Fuck- ease up, you’re practically forcing me out.” He grunted, moving both hands to hold your hips as he paused.

“Sorry.” You whimpered. You didn’t really know why you were apologizing though since you couldn’t help how tight you were. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he slowly dragged his hips back and when he moved forward again, your legs trembled and you quickly clung to the shelf to hold yourself up.

“I swear… this is the best pussy I’ve ever fucked.” He said through a breath, making you whine quietly. “Wraps perfectly around my cock.” He started thrusting a little faster now, but not fast enough to make too much noise. You had to cover your mouth with your hand because you were getting just a little too loud and you knew Robert wouldn’t stop because of that. If anything he’d probably fuck you harder just to make you moan louder.

When he leaned over you so your back was flush with his front, then grabbed your breasts, you bit down on your hand, trying to stay quiet. Robert squeezed and groped you greedily before focusing on your nipples, rolling them between his fingers until you were gasping out.

“I bet the only reason you wanted to have these sessions here was so that I’d finally rail you in public, out where anyone could get a free show.” You whimpered and squeezed your eyes shut as you shook your head a little. “I felt your cunt tighten up when I said that…” He scoffed in response to your weak protest. “Who would’ve guessed that the nerd was actually a little whore.” He chuckled, making your cheeks burn with a dark blush.

“You wear these slutty tops that show off your tits, these tiny little skirts that barely cover anything…” He stood straight again and flipped your skirt up, giving him a clearer view of your ass bouncing with each thrust. “And fuck— when you wear those fucking glasses, I swear I get harder than I thought was physically possible.”

“Robert..” You whimpered, the sound coming out muffled beneath your hand as you reached down to rub your clit that was throbbing almost painfully by now.

“I know.” He cooed mockingly. “You’re so smart all the time… I bet you’ve just been waiting for someone to finally fuck you into the brainless bimbo you pretend not to be, huh?”

“Oh god…” You sobbed quietly, knees buckling as you got closer to your release.

“You get a cock in this needy little cunt and all that IQ just disappears instantly.” He chuckled, the sound a deep rumble as he tried to stay quiet. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you tutor me if I get to fuck all those thoughts out of your pretty little head after. How does that sound, baby?” You mewled and nodded, back arching, unintentionally pushing your hips into his. “Good girl.” He said through a breathy laugh.

His hands settled on your hips again and he sped up even more. He wasn’t holding you enough to keep you from falling to the floor as your legs turned to jelly, so you had to take the hand off of your mouth and hold yourself up, wanting to keep rubbing your clit. All you could focus on was Robert, his cock, and your impending orgasm.

“Wanna come.” You whined, making him laugh again.

“Yeah? Does that needy pussy want to cream all over my cock?” He cooed, his mocking only pushing you closer to the edge. When you mewled and nodded again, he said, “Go ahead, baby. Show me how much you love being my bimbo bitch.”

You rubbed your clit impossibly faster, now chasing your orgasm more eagerly since you had his permission. When the knot of arousal in your stomach finally snapped, your knees buckled, almost sending you to the floor, but Robert held you up and pushed you into the bookshelf a little more to keep you from falling. Wave after wave of pleasure rolled through you and you tried to keep your sounds quiet, but with his cock still fucking you relentlessly, your efforts were unavailing.

Robert was moaning quietly behind you at the feeling of your walls convulsing around his cock and with one final grunt, he pulled your hips back to meet his thrust. You whined as his cock twitched with each rope of come that spurted out, painting your walls. The sounds he was letting out were starting to make you needy all over again, but soon enough they quieted into heavy breathing as he rested his body on yours, panting against your neck.

“Fuck…” He hissed, finally leaning up again and slowly dragging his hips back until his cock slipped out of your fluttering hole. He pushed you down farther so that your torso was almost parallel to the floor, then grabbed your ass cheeks and spread you open, watching his come dribble out of your puffy folds.

His come.

Fuck.

“Robert.” You whined once you realized that he didn’t pull out.

“What?” He asked absentmindedly, playing with your sensitive pussy and pushing his come back inside before pulling your panties up around your hips.

“You said you’d pull out..” You heard clothes rustling, then he was lifting you up and turning you around to fix your own clothes.

“Sorry, baby, I forgot.” He said, with no remorse in his tone. “You just felt so good.” You stared up at him through your lashes as you pouted. When he realized you were about to say something again, he pulled you into another kiss. You draped your arms over his shoulders, needing a little help standing on your legs that still felt like jelly.

“Excuse me!” An offended voice said from the end of the aisle. You both turned to look, finding one of the older librarians standing there with a cart full of books to be reshelved. “That’s hardly appropriate for this setting.” She scoffed.

“I’m so sorry, ma’am. Thank you for the warning, it won’t happen again.” Robert said with an ingratiating tone as he placed his hand on your lower back to guide you past her. She even blushed when he gave her that charming smile he usually uses to get what he wants.

As you walked back to the table, he leaned down to speak against your ear. “Next week I’ll see you at my place. I expect you to uphold your end of the deal.” Your fucked out brain could barely even remember what he was talking about when he said “the deal” but you blushed when you realized what you technically agreed to just a few minutes ago. Maybe you were still cock drunk… but the idea didn’t seem too bad now.

#robert fischer smut #robert fischer x reader #robert fischer #inception #cillian murphy

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lymtw · 23 hours

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What does toji gets love boners over :3

Toji gets love boners because of you so often that every once in a while, he feels foolish for realizing that he is tethered to your happiness. His body reacts to your laughter, your smiles, your kind gleaming eyes in a similar manner to when you're intimately touching him or when he is touching you.

Toji only finds it embarrassing in the beginning, when it's first happening. His pretty girl is curled up on the couch, reading a book. There are no easily spotted turn ons in this scene. Not unless it's Toji doing the spotting. He will find too many things that get him hard at this simple sight. Just in the way you hold the book, he already feels his stomach start to stir. Your hands are clasped around the spine and covers, your knuckles protruding in the form your hands take. Your pretty, unpainted nails reflect as the light hanging from the ceiling casts light on them. As you turn the page to your book, your index finger and thumb pinch the page. Your fingers look so delicate, and he knows it to be true because even when he holds your hand, he can't squeeze too hard when he laces his fingers between yours, because he'll crush them. You look content, and part of it bothers him. He's not jealous of the book bringing you this state of serenity, but he does wish you were looking at him with that much focus instead. You would see the things you make him feel. The way his body reacts to you, and how even when you are in an idle state, you manage to make him desire you.

Toji doesn't feel as embarrassed when you indulge his desires that are brought on by you. Immediately after you fulfill his needs, he's grateful to have gone through another one of those humbling experiences that happen because he is so attracted to you. You're soft to the touch, you sound pretty, and you touch him in a way that shows that you enjoy having him so close to you.

Another one of his triggers for his love induced hard ons comes in the form of making you laugh uncontrollably. Sometimes it's flattery, like him telling you you look nice when you're on a date. The humor slightly outweighs the charm when he tries to compare you to things he thinks you might find pretty. He'll say, "you look pretty, doll. Like..." and then he can't find anything good enough to compare you to for a good ten seconds or so. "...that red flower over there," he finally says once he finds something. The gap of silence as he searched made you laugh, and the turning of his head as he scanned the area only added onto it. After a few seconds, he notices you're not walking next to him anymore and looks behind him to see that you're keened over, laughing. He walks back to you, a grin gracing his lips as he stands in front of you. Your cheeks are pink and your eyes are glossy with tears of joy welling in them. You mention that your stomach hurts through high pitched laughter, luring a chuckle from Toji. You try to compose yourself, standing up straight while taking relaxing breaths but as soon as you look up at Toji, you're wheezing again. He can't explain the feeling that formed within him at the sight. It was happiness with a tinge of something else. There he was trying to be romantic, and failing so hard that you had a fit of laughter instead of swooning at his words. He found himself swooning over you instead. He felt a sense of relief when he realized that even if he couldn't make your heart flutter romantically on purpose, he could always make you laugh, and for him that was just as good because watching you laugh was such a turn on for him.

Another thing that gets Toji going in a loving way is when you're in the same room but aren't next to each other, and you make eye contact with him from wherever you are. You smile at him, kindly, warmly, lovingly, and yet it goes straight to his crotch. It's the way you look at him, so longingly when you're merely across the room. All you have to do is walk a few feet and you'll be together again, but it feels like you're miles apart. You play eye contact tag as you get separate tasks done, and Toji always beats you, being the last one to look away. His gaze bores into the back of your head when you don't spare him anymore attention, and it always makes you turn around when you feel it like some sixth sense. You smile, happily losing focus on whatever you're working on to look at your handsome distraction sprawled out on the couch. He looks at you with a sly smirk. He knows what he's doing, but what you're doing is worse. Smiling so pretty at him like that, knowing he can't be next to you for at least another twenty minutes. He tries to entice you by looking you up and down while playing with the hem of his shirt. Your willpower starts crumbling when he's like this so you quickly turn around with wide eyes. He grins before letting out a sigh of impatience. The tent in his pants is unbearable, and god he wishes he had the same level of restraint as you, but he doesn't, so stands from where he is, and he personally lets you know how much he wants you.

#❁ mal can talk ❁#toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro x reader #toji x y/n #toji x you #jujutsu toji #jjk toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji fluff #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen

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euryite · 2 days

Note

Could you please write about first years x really tall reader who is above 6 feet? I'm talking 6'4 - 6'8 🙏🙏🙏 love your writings sm <3

he needs some milk

syn. in which you humble the NRC first years with sheer power (height).

gn!yuu

ACE TRAPPOLA

he’d probably invite you to the basketball club. sorry but i’m right, i’m the writer here. he would.

if you did join, good for you! you can enjoy your time together. kinda.

if you didn’t, though, i’m sorry for you- because this man will literally ask you everyday.

outside of that though, he’s—

actually, he’s still not that good.

Ace would say he’s a fair person. He doesn’t do anything wrong, he was never rude; honestly? He’s sure he’s a saint.

You, carrying him on your shoulders, would like to say otherwise.

“Uhm, Ace,” you start, sighing exasperatedly before you continue, “why the heck are you on my shoulders? And why do we need to beat up Deuce?”

Ace scoffs haughtily at you, waving his shoulders and causing you to waver a bit, you weren’t really made for carrying others.

“I’m on your shoulders because we need to beat up Deuce. We’re gonna intimidate him.” The redhead responds, as if anything he said makes sense.

“Ace, what the hell.”

DEUCE SPADE

he’s pretty normal about it. perchance. maybe not.

he probably also assumes you’re good at sports. long legs do have that effect on most people, i guess.

it’s not like he’s a short guy, so he doesn’t really need your help with anything.

he likes to think he doesn’t really care about your height, but you know otherwise.

it’s not like the dude would make fun of you— unlike a certain someone—, so you don’t really have to worry.

You find it kinda funny how Deuce always tries to look like he doesn’t have to crane his neck up to see your face.

Scratch that, it’s really funny. He’s looking up, but his eyes are kinda looking down. What, is he trying to convince himself there isn’t a difference or something?

Actually, yeah, sounds about right.

Another thing you find funny is the fact that somehow, even with your towering height, Deuce is more intimidating than you. It’s not like you really put any effort into being scary, but it was just a little offensive!

JACK HOWL

the poor guy experiences culture shock. lol.

he’s been the taller person for, like, most of his life.

imagine his shock when seeing you, a— sorry— rather plain human, being taller. by more than just a little bit.

imagine his shock when he lends his clothes to you, and they don’t even look that big! (unless you’re on the lanky, idia shroud side of tall. but still).

other than a mild and short-lived shock, he just doesn’t really care.

doesn’t seem like the kinda guy to.

you two, together, though? killer combo.

“Uhm.. We said we’re sorry—” the brown-haired 3rd year said, backing up slowly while the two second years behind him quivered— which was funny considering their rugged appearances.

But like, if two people who were well over 6 feet tall just walked up to you in the middle of lunch, demanding you “give grim back his chicken sandwich”, wouldn’t you be pretty scared?!

They didn’t even take it—

“Uhm,” the dark purple haired 2nd year hiding behind the 3rd year squeaks out (sounding very weird considering his deep voice), “I took it. I apologize!”

Oh!

…

All this, and for a literal chicken sandwich that was, what, 15 madol? That isn’t even expensive!

EPEL FELMIER

i’d like to apologize to epel in advance because it would actually look so hilarious to see you two together.

it’d be even funnier if, between the two of you, you were the calmer one.

if you were the babygirl, so to speak.

there’s not much more to say than that the whiplash seeing you two together could kill a small cat.

When you think of a short student in NRC, the first person that usually comes to mind is Epel Felmier.

The boy in question doesn’t appreciate that.

And when you think of a tall student in NRC— well, a lot come to mind but one of the few most prominent is the Ramshackle prefect.

The prefect in question doesn’t really care.

And therein lies the issue. You don’t care about who is tall and who isn’t, but Epel does care. Very much so.

He eventually learns to be fine with being seen around you, though, even if it does mean his own height comes in comparison with yours.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

a ‘weak human’.. being around his height? or taller?

culture shock 2.0. i feel so bad for him.

if he were any lesser person, he’d have attempted to recruit you to be a knight.

you’re a weak human, though, so he didn’t. 🤗

be grateful!

are you taller than malleus? you are, right? terrifying.

sebek would ask you to shrink.. sorry, but it’s true.

“WEAK HUMAN!” and just like that, your ears are broken. You don’t even know how you handle him screaming at this volume all the time. You’re dying, Lilia, help.

You look down (scary stuff) to meet his eyes, and he immediately starts talking.

“I’VE NOTICED—“

“Shh, keep it down.”

“Ahem, I’ve noticed that you are taller than the Young Master, so, I humbly request you shrink!”

…

Man, what the fuck.

#“he is half of my soul.” ; my writing #twisted wonderland #disney twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #twst x reader #ace trappola x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #jack howl x reader #jack howl #epel felmier x reader #epel felmier #sebek zigvolt x reader #sebek zigvolt #screams #disney twisted wonderland #twst yuu

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444lec33 · 11 hours

Text

The Arrangement // Mafia!Lando x Reader

WC: 1.7k

Warnings: none that I can think of

Author's note: This was so fun to write, I hope you guys enjoy it 🧡

“I can’t believe you’re making me do this,” you sighed looking incredulously up at the ceiling.

“Well believe it because he’ll be here any minute,” your father said sitting behind his desk.

There was a quick knock on the office door before it parted to reveal your mother standing there, an exaggerated grin on her face. She beckoned you closer and you went to her begrudgingly. She grabbed your chin looking you over and started smoothing out your outfit.

“You know how much this means for both our families. Don't embarrass us now, sweetie.”

You rolled your eyes and refused to respond as he three of you trekked the halls leading to wherever your soon-to-be husband was.

He was standing there looking rather curiously at the art work that adorned the ornate dining room.

You hated the sound of your name on his lips and the cheeky grin that accompanied it as he turned around. Your arms were folded in irritation as you gave a simple greeting, letting the awkwardness grow.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you show Lando the rose garden?” Your mother chided hopefully, knowing that without being prompted you would never move things along for Lando’s visit. You were going to make a joke about the future kingpin’s disinterest in flowers before Lando spoke up with a playful tone.

“I would love that.” Oh he was eating this up.

“It’ll be good for you two to have some alone time before the wedding.” Your father remained silent as your overzealous mother aligned the pieces to connect your family to the most notorious mob in the country.

Lando was all too excited to appease your mother’s wishes. A rough palm reached out and collected your hand dragging you towards the back entrance of your home.

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

“I don’t know anything about you.”

Your finance rolled his eyes before responding to your claim. “We’ve known each other for years, and this” he motioned between the two of you. “Was something we always knew would happen. No point in complaining,” he shrugged seeming as carefree as he always appeared for someone in his position.

But Lando was right. You’d both grown up in relative proximity to one another, your families’ mafia ties linking the two of you in ways that ran deeper than you’d ever comprehend.

“Alright fine,” you threw up your hands while standing up in front of him. “If we’re gonna do this we’re doing it my way.”

Lando nodded, the appearance of his dimples telling you how comical he found your sudden interest in your present circumstances. “Ask away, love. Whatever you want and it’s yours.”

You hummed before rattling off the shortlist of needs you’d like to be met before you walked down the aisle to marry the mafia prince.

“Well for starters I want a ring. I big one. Like really big. Do not get me anything princess cut. Too predictable and cheap looking.” Lando was going to interject but you continued. “I don’t care if it’s gold or silver as long as it looks classy. Maybe a nice cushion cut or a Marquise. Dutch marquise,” you quickly added. “Oh and I wear a size 7.”

Lando took your brief pause as an opportunity to speak. “Should I be taking notes on all this,” he laughed and licked his lips clearly having fun with your pre-wedding demands. “Alright, now that I know what you want I promise I’ll deliver.” You knew he wasn’t lying. The Norris’ family was one of the wealthiest around, their fortune managed to dwarf the elaborate lifestyle your family’s own mob ties afforded you.

“Okay, good. Glad we got that out of the way. Now if you’ll excuse me,” you pointed your thumb in the direction of your home, “I’d like to get back to enjoying the rest of my night.”

Lando was quick to his feet, his hand catching your wrist as you started towards the large mansion. “We’ve spent all night going over what you want, don’t you even care about what I’d like?” He questioned with a playful glimmer in his watercolored eyes.

“I couldn’t care less,” you turned and began walking again before Lando stopped you, grabbing your shoulders and spinning you to face him.

“That really hurts you know.” You rolled your eyes and glared at him. Leave it to Lando to make this situation into a joke.

“Fine, what do you want? Separate houses? A girlfriend on the side? Whatever it is I really don’t care.”

“Honestly…” he trailed off, his hand rubbing nervously at the back of his neck. “I want us to give this a shot.” The words had barely left his mouth before you’d started laughing. “Okay, sure laugh at me but I’m being serious. Think about it this way; in a few weeks time we’ll be legally bound to each other and all the other bullshit that entails for the rest of our lives. You’ll probably, no definitely, be the mother of my kids.”

His words were making you feel things you wish you didn’t. As irritated as you were with this entire scheme your two families created you knew there was nothing you could ever do to escape it. Would leaning into it really be so bad? What’s the worst that could happen? Before you could interject with one of the million and one reasons you could think of to not forge a real relationship Lando spoke again.

“You don’t have to decide now, whatever decision you make I’ll respect it.” You swallowed the lump that had grown heavy in your throat. “Oh and what you said earlier? I don’t want some girl on the side or whatever you want to call it. I’m actually willing to give us a try and I hope you’ll do the same.”

You gaped at him, eyes wide. No dick on the side, no way. The words refused to leave your mouth but you nodded, hoping to bring the conversation to a close.

“I have eyes everywhere, but I’m sure you already know that. If I were you I’d tie up any loose ends before the wedding.” It took a moment for you to realize what he was indicating. But how could you ever forget who Lando Norris truly was. If you were to ever go behind his back he would know, and from the looks of it things wouldn’t end to well for you or your paramour.

“Okay fine, you win.”

A shit-eating grin spread across his perfectly structured face. “I win,” he said more to himself, clearly enjoying the taste of the words in his mouth. “I do have one more condition before we really do this.”

Your eyes didn’t deviate from his as you waited for him to get on with it. “I want a kiss.”

“Alright great talk but no. Have a great night!” You were practically sprinting to get inside but Lando was quick on his feet catching you almost instantly. “You know you really need to stop running away all the time. That’s something we’ll need to work on.” The proximity between the two of you was closer than ever. If it weren’t for his tight grip you would have squirmed under Lando’s heavy gaze.

He reached out to grab you chin making sure your eyes were trained on him. “Better now than the first one be in front of everyone we know. Let’s consider this practice for D-day.”

Practice. Sure.

“Okay,” you whispered before your better judgement could stop you. Lando was confident taking the lead as his lips came close to yours. Nothing could have prepared you for the feel of his plush lips against your. As the kiss dragged on you slowly felt the tension you’d harbored before leaving your body. Why did he have to be such a good kisser.

It felt like forever before the two of you separated, an awkward pause hanging in the air as you tried to separate your hate for your pre-planned life from the growing lust you were feeling for your future husband. Lando removed his jacket and draped it over your shoulders. He pulled you close to him as he guided you the short trek from the rose garden to your home.

If you looked even half as disoriented as you felt it was probably best to stave off the embarrassment and head straight upstairs. You reluctantly turned around at the sound of your fiancé calling your name. You cast your gaze down to the end of the spiral stairwell where he stood. “I’ll see you next Saturday.”

There were question marks swarming your head as you tried to figure out what he was talking about. Tonight was intense enough, what else would he need to see you for?

Lando swiped his hand against his facial hair barely trying to hide the pleasure he felt by catching you off guard. He tilted his head to the side, dimples more prominent than ever.

“Saturday night. Our engagement party.”

Oh. Ohhhh.

“Right. Okay, yeah.” You mentally kicked yourself for forgetting the second most important date on your calendar for the foreseeable future.

“I think a week should give you enough time to think about our little chat.” You were more likely to be ruminating over that kiss.

At this point you were drained. Words were too much so you just flashed him a thumbs up and trusted one of the maids to show him out. “Goodbye Lando,” you called over your shoulder ready to hide away in your room for the rest of eternity.

“Goodnight wifey.”

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

When you finally reached your room you found yourself drawn to the window. You opened it up, not so subtly peaking at your fiancé’s black McLaren as it exited the gates. The sound of your phone vibrating on your bed pulled your attention from the sleek car growing distant from your home. You plopped down on your bed, body still wrapped in the warm jacket Lando covered you with. Looking at the device you noted several missed messages and calls. Some from your girl friends, and even more from your friends friends. You pulled a throw pillow close to you as you got comfortable scanning through your messages.

Charles

Still on for tomorrow?

Lewis

Missed FaceTime

Max

2 Missed calls. 1 Voicemail.

Time to tie up those loose ends…

#lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #formula 1 #f1 x you #woc!reader #f1 x black!reader #lando norris x black!reader

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echobx · 3 days

Note

Barry leaves, asking Rafe to watch his sister, who overhears and objects. Despite her attempts to seduce Rafe, He declines. That night after Barry goes to sleep he confesses his love to her and they have passionate slow sex

Rafe Cameron × Barry's little sister!reader

warnings: p in v (protected), fingering, light oral (fem receiving)

word count: 2.2k

author's note: I hope what I did here is not dissapointing you bestie 💕and if I'ma 100% honest with you, my brain never comes up with anything for Rafe so this is a blessing because I need to write him more (accidentally wanted to write "need to ride him" there lol)

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You're standing in the kitchen of your trailer, your big brother and his friend Rafe are sitting on the couch just a few feet away from you. You never intend to eavesdrop on them, especially because you really don't want to know about all the illegal shit your brother gets up to. You've learned to keep out of Barry's business and only ever do something when he specifically asks you to. Like the one time he needed you to smuggle something over the border, so you packed your suitcase, and your innocent best friend, and had a girl's trip. No one would suspect a cute and innocent looking girl like you to be the sister of one of the biggest fish in the OBX.

“I need you to stay here, make sure no one comes around and tries anything while I go pick up the new shit,” Barry says in a low voice, not wanting you to listen of course. “Isn't she old enough, though?” Rafe asks and you smile into yourself a little. You like that he trusts you more than your brother does, but then again it's the simple brotherly instinct to want to have you taken care of. And who better to do that then his best friend. Of course. “Just keep an eye on her,” Barry sighs. “I don't need a babysitter,” you speak up and turn around to look at them both. “Who said anything about babysitting?” Rafe cocks his eyebrow up, trying his best to seem innocent. “Exactly,” Barry hesitates. “Rafe will just wait for me here until I get back. No babysitting. Just waiting and you're here too, sis.” “Ugh, you guys are the worst,” you groan and walk back into your room.

You decide to go through your closet, putting on a pair of dungarees over a simple red top first and walking back into the living area. Barry had left already, and you decided to play a little game with Rafe, unbeknownst to him. “What do you think?” you ask and twirl around, and he lifts his head to look at you. “Cute,” he notes and dips his head again, looking back to his phone. You go and try on something else. A mini skirt and loop top, showing off your belly button piercing. “How about this?” you ask him again and this time his eyes linger for a little longer, but he just shrugs. “Looks good to me.” You groan and stomp back into your room. Picking out a shirt that is basically see-through and a pair of hot pants that really should probably not count as pants, but panties. You step back out and walk straight over to him, placing yourself in front of him and twirling your hair. Rafe's eyes get stuck on your tits before he looks up at you and gulps. “That's something,” he rasps and lifts his hips in his seat, but he doesn't go further.

Not only are you frustrated because none of your attempts have shown any real effect, but also because all you want is for him to just fuck you. It's not really that easy to find a guy when you have a brother who threatens anyone you even think about bringing home. But Rafe's at your place basically every single day. Barry finds him trustworthy enough to stay with you while he's out. And on top of that, you know of the rumors. You know of Rafe's reputation. He takes what he wants, and he doesn't leave until he's satisfied. That's what you wanted for yourself. Especially for your first time. Which is why it also doesn't make sense to you that he hasn't made a move on you yet, especially considering how you always flirt with him as soon as Barry leaves the room.

You decide to let it go, instead only putting on an oversized shirt, no bra and a pair of shorts. Your usual look, basically. When you come back out, Rafe's already looking at you, he's smiling. “I like that one too,” he says, and you roll your eyes. “Whatever.” “Since when do you have a piercing?” Rafe asks and watches you sit down on the other end of the couch. “Few months ago. Thought if I hide it long enough, my brother can't tell me off about it anymore,” you shrug, bored out of your mind really. And you don't realize that Rafe keeps talking to you about you, and not just about random shit like usually. He asks about your favorite things, and he doesn't even make fun of you for how polar opposite it all is to how people perceive you. No one would expect a trailer park chick to be a math nerd, or like classical music the same amount as rap. But Rafe finds it fascinating. He's practically enamored by you, but you're too stuck in your head to even really notice it.

“This is prolly the best shit I had in months,” Barry grins while walking in, taking a small bag of shit out of his backpack and throwing it towards Rafe. “Think we can at least triple that,” he says, and goes to stash the rest. Rafe is dipping his pinky into the powder and rubs it on his gums. “Oh, that's good,” he nods and leans back. They spend the rest of the night talking about how much they can take for it and the usual split. And you just sit there, watching and listening and zoning out and thinking about more fun things, like, what if Rafe didn't just see Barry's little sister in you.

The night progresses and you go to your room, telling them you're tired, when you really are just not in the mood to listen to them any longer. That's how you found yourself, two hours later, lying in your bed, body turned away from the door but still wide awake when the door opens and closes with a soft creak. “Y/n?” Rafe asks and you pretend to be asleep. “Are you awake?” You keep your eyes closed in case he walks around your bed to check on it, but he doesn't, instead he just sits down next to you and sighs. “I don't know how to keep doing this, to keep pretending like I don't care,” he whispers, and your heart starts beating a little faster. “But I can't do what I want to either. I'm not supposed to- Fuck, y/n, I wish I could tell you how much I love you,” he sighs, and you rip your eyes open.

“You what?” You flip around and stare at him. Rafe looks at you, completely flabbergasted, he really didn't expect you to hear him. But now it's too late, and he can't take it back anymore. “I'm in love with you,” he whispers, and you sit up. “And I don't- I can't keep going like this, not when you do shit like today and all I can think of is bending you over and fucking you until you beg me to stop.” “Then do it,” you whisper. “What?” “Fuck me.” You look at him and he shakes his head. “Barry would kill me.” “I don't care about my brother. I don't want my brother. I want you,” you tell him and lean in to kiss him.

It's a gentle peck that you place on his soft lips. Rafe takes his hands up to hold onto your neck as he reciprocates the kiss, harshly and with a demanding manner that makes you feel like putty in his hands. You try to stay quiet, but the way his tongue presses against yours makes you want to moan louder than you ever anticipated from a simple kiss. But Rafe knows what he wants, and now that he's had a taste, he's not stopping. His hands find your waist, running up and taking your shirt off you. Rafe stops kissing you to admire your body, hands groping at the flesh of your tits, and you have to bite your lip to not moan. “Take off your shirt,” you whisper, and he follows suit, throwing it somewhere on the floor before starting to kiss down your body. Lips trailing down your neck to the valley of your breasts, then farther down, sucking your piercing between his teeth before kissing your clothed clit. “You smell so good, baby,” he moans against your cunt, before slapping against your thigh, and you instinctively lift your hips and let him take off your slip.

“If that's not the prettiest pussy I've seen in my life,” Rafe hums before licking a stride up your slick folds and closing his lips around your sensitive bud. Shallow moans and quiet gasps leave you as you grasp into his hair, trying to hold onto anything you can get your hands on while he edges you on. “More, please, Rafe,” you beg and he looks up with a smirk. “Want me to fuck you, baby?” “Yes, please, please.” Rafe thrusts his fingers into your tight hole and your back arches up. His fingers curl up and prod against your walls, making you squirm under him. “God, you're tight, it's almost like-” he stops and looks at you. “Have you never had sex?” You feel ashamed at first, but you can't lie, you know he's gonna find out eventually. So you shake your head and hope he doesn't mind. “Jesus, baby, you should've said something. I would've come over and fucked you way earlier if that's all you wanted this whole time,” he whispers and kisses you, his hand still working on your pussy until you feel like you're about to explode. “Cum for me, baby, I know you want to. Soak my fingers,” he growls into your ear, and you let go. Your moans are swallowed by his lips on yours and his fingers fuck you through your high until you lie there, panting and happier than ever.

“Need more,” you rasp and pull on his shorts, trying to open the button. “Really needy, aren't you,” Rafe chuckles and gets up to take off his shorts and boxers. Your eyes go wide when you see how big he is. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to pick Rafe of all people for your first time, but there’s no going back now. You watch him pump his dick a few times before rolling on a condom and coming back to kneel between your legs. “You have to tell me if it hurts. I don't wanna hurt you,” he says, and you nod, biting your lips in anticipation. His tip nudges your hole, and you take a deep breath as he starts pushing into you. Forgetting that he wanted to go slow, Rafe bottoms out, and you feel like you're being split in two. “Shit, are you okay?” he asks, and you nod, trying to not cry from the stinging feeling. “Go slow, please,” you whisper, and he kisses you, distracting you from the pain between your legs. He pulls out slowly and pushes back into you, groaning quietly against the skin on your neck. Your hands are clasping his shoulders and your legs are wrapped around his middle, letting him hit even deeper inside you with his shallow thrusts.

“You feel so good, baby. This pussy is made for me,” Rafe muses, kissing your neck and sucking on the soft skin, leaving marks for days. Your mind is dazed. The pain you had felt just minutes before is replaced with pure pleasure and the way he longingly stares into your eyes. You didn't expect him to be so gentle with you, but now that you have it, you want nothing more than to do it over and over again. “Fuck, you're so tight,” Rafe grunts, gradually fasting his pace. He pulls out almost completely, leaving you empty and babbling for more until he slams back in, holding onto the headboard of your bed so it doesn't hit against the wall. “You're mine. My girl,” Rafe grunts and rams into you another time. “Yours,” you moan softly, still trying to keep quiet and not wake your brother next door. But Rafe seems to have forgotten about it. His right hand comes down to hold onto your neck, and he starts pounding into you harsher and faster than you thought possible. Maybe he really wants to try to impale you with his cock, and you know you'd let him. It's overwhelming, and you feel the band inside you go tighter with each heavy thrust. “Let go, baby, I got you,” Rafe looks down at you and smiles, you can feel it inside of you, the warmth, and then you're lost. It feels like you're falling and when he pushes into you deeper and halts, you're caught again.

Your poor cunt won't stop clenching even after he had pulled out and disposed of the condom. You're hot and cold at the same time, like a storm had just washed over you and left you speechless. “Next time we do this, you can be as loud as you want to, baby,” Rafe whispers and kisses your neck, holding you tightly in his arms before you both drift into a deep slumber.

◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹◃▹

taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @princessmaybank @kys4-20 @drwstarkeyy @immyowndefender @julczimozart

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfic #obx #obx fanfiction #smut #~fanfiction #~ask #@rafemotherfuckingcameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron x y/n #obx smut #~prompt

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mattsfuturegf · 2 days

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In For It | M. Sturniolo

𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐎 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊!𝐅𝐄𝐌 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 while nick and chris are in the store getting snacks for your movie night, matt has been in a mood for the whole video you had just filmed so you decided to help him out a little bit.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 car sex😋, p in v, soft dom!matt, sub!reader, praise, dirty talk, spanking, swearing (i think that’s it but let me know if i missed anythin’)

“Did you have to park fucking all way back here, Matt?” Nick complained as he unbuckled his seatbelt and opened his door, we had just filmed a video and Matt had been in a mood for the entirety of it.

“Either you deal with it or we go home,” He grumbled and Chris looked at you, you shrugged not knowing what was going on with your boyfriend. The other brothers got out of the car and started walking towards the store, you had wondered what was going on with Matt.

You looked towards him, noticing he was fidgeting in his seat and re-adjusting his grey sweats. You made a last minute decision and climbed into the passenger seat where Chris was just sitting and stared at his side profile, he sighed, knowing he can’t keep stuff from you and glanced your way as you were looking at him with doe eyes.

“M’fuckinghornyokay?” Matt said quickly but you understood what he had said, you quickly climbed over the console and settled yourself into his lap, sitting right on his erection which was pointing in his sweats. He groaned as you sat down on him, wrapping his arms around your waist as you slowly began to grind down on him.

You looked up at him, his head was tilted back as you circled your hips. “Let me help, baby” you whispered into his ear, placing a kiss onto his collarbone which wasn’t covered by the wife-beater he was wearing. He let out a sigh as he lifted up your skirt, discarding your underwear placing two fingers onto your clit straight away making you whine.

“So wet for me already, huh baby?” Matt teased as he rubbed the pad of his thumb over your clit, you grinded down on his fingers a little bit, he was watching your every move watching as you whined.

You pulled down his sweatpants, watching as his hard cock sprung out, his tip already leaking with pre-cum and you spread it around his tip he hissed but let out is quiet moan.

Now he stares at you in pure surprise because he was not expecting it to get this far this fast. However he doesn’t say anything and simply lies back, taking in the view. His breaths are getting shorter and faster as his body is getting ready for what’s coming next.

You slowly sink down onto him, whining as he filled you up.

He moans quietly as he stares up at you, he is in total admiration to your beauty as you sink slowly on top of him. He puts his hands on your hips once more as he looks up at you with his eyes wide open from the excitement, before he planted his feet and started hammering into you from underneath.

You cried out as Matt slammed into you from underneath, “Fuck, matty..” you moaned out, earning a spank on the ass from your boyfriend which made you whine for more.

“Such a good girl, taking me like this in a parking lot, I couldn’t wait until I got home to fuck you. You’re being so fucking good for me, baby” Matt moaned, praising you as you clenched around him whining as he spanked you once more before kneading the flesh of your ass as he still pistoned into you.

“M’gonna cum, Matty..” You whined out and he nodded, he could feel you clenching around him almost like a vice as he pistoned into you.

“Cum for me sweetheart, gotta fill you up, you deserve it, so fucking good f’me baby” Matt whispers and that was enough for you to climax all over his cock, your legs shaking as you came down from your high, Matt still pounding into you chasing his own climax.

You ground your hips down onto him, Matt moaning loudly as he filled you up, painting your walls white with his hot and sticky cum sighing out as your head dropped into his neck, placing a kiss onto his collarbone. “You gonna stop being a grump puppy, now?” You teased playfully and he rolled his eyes leaning up to give you a kiss on the lips which you returned gratefully before looking back to where Nick and Chris were walking out of the store.

“Oh shit!” You quickly pulled up your underwear and pulled your skirt over it, climbing into the backseat as Matt hastily pulled his sweatpants up, ruffling his hair since it was messy and turned on the radio as the sound of In For It by Tory Lanez started playing, you made eye contact with Matt trying not to burst out in laughter.

Nick and Chris got back to the car, Chris climbing into the passenger seat and Nick coming to sit back with you. “What snacks d’you get?” You asked, Nick’s eyes lighting up and showing you all the snacks.

Chris looked over to his brother, “You gonna stop being a grump tonight?” he asks and Matt let out a chuckle.

Matt made eye contact with you through the rear view mirror, “Something like that” smiling at the sly wink you gave him before going back to the conversation you were having with Nick.

He was completely and utterly in love with you, the fact you can go from moaning his name to having an engaging conversation with his older brother.

𝐀/𝐍 I hope y’all enjoyed this because it took me so fucking long to finish this!!

#chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #fluff #matt stuniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut #smut #sturniolo smut #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

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canisalbus · 2 days

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It's probably fair to say that, as a child, Machete's goal was to just survive. Even as a young adult, survival obviously remained a principle goal.

But slowly, over time, he gained power, and is now a cardinal. He no longer struggles to fend off death (weakened constitution notwithstanding.) He probably still sees himself as trying to survive day-to-day, but clearly it becomes more than that, even if he's not fully cognizant of it.

I guess what I'm wondering is, besides "survival", what are Machete's goals? As a cardinal or otherwise. What prevents him from leaving or resigning his post? Does he have aspirations other than Vasco? Does he see himself as subservient to God, or is it something else?

I'd say his aspirations are pretty mundane. Security and stability are probably the biggest priorities overall, financially and health-wise. He doesn't thrive in unreliable and unpredictable surroundings. The fact that he knows he will have his basic needs met for the foreseeable future, there are people ready to prepare him a warm bath at a moment's notice, a reputable doctor to look after him, and armed guards that are never too far away, eases his mind considerably. A large part of his work revolves around routine, carefully crafted plans and immutable etiquette, with relatively few unpleasant surprises. He's so high in the hierarchy that very few people can treat him disrespectfully and get away with it.

He wants to prove that he's capable, competent and useful. His deeply rooted inferiority complex (that largely stems from the demeaning and belittling way his mentor treated him when he was his apprentice) has made him a lifelong overachiever, which in turn has served him well in his career. He's ambitious and driven but I wouldn't call him power-hungry in an egoistical way, he can come across as overbearing but it's because he's a perfectionist control freak who's obsessed with doing his job well and has a tendency to think most people around him aren't up to the task. He isn't in it for fame and wealth in itself, it's more about having a purpose that makes you worthy of respect.

On a more personal level he's passionate about reading, studying and learning. Partly because he's inquisitive and genuinely enjoys it, knows he's good at it and feels good about being good at it, but also because he wants to be the most learned, most cultured and most academic person in the room. Not necessarily for bragging rights, but to feel like being smart will always keep him one step ahead of the others and that way no one can pull the rug from under his feet.

He would never be able to afford the things he wears and the luxuries he has access to if his life hadn't taken the exact turns it did. He spent his early childhood in a monastery and was trained by a priest who valued asceticism and self-denial so he didn't have a lot of nice things growing up. Now as a high ranking church official he has more spending money than he could've imagined, and while he has an expensive taste, he oftentimes fails to enjoy the benefits of his status properly. He has a comfortable home with a massive bed, but it's not uncommon for him to sleep in his office or forgo rest completely. Even though he could be savoring the rarest most complex dishes every day, there aren't a lot of foods he likes eating. He would like to look pretty but even his outlandishly costly and carefully tailored silk garments can't redeem the fact he doesn't feel comfortable in his skin.

He can't resign because his sense of self-worth and lifestyle are tied to his job. It's the one thing he's demonstrably skilled at. He's worked himself to the bone to get where he is now and the prospect of losing it is simply unfathomable. He doesn't have ties to his biological family and his friends are few and far between, if he gave up his position he'd have functionally no one to rely on but Vasco. On top of that he does feel like he owes his life to the church and serving it to his best ability is his lot in life. His state of faith and relationship with God is complicated at best but he's nonetheless terrified of what might happen and how he might be punished if he ever chose to abandon his post.

#answered #nateynate0 #Vaschete lore

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pedge-page · 18 hours

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How do you think Joel would take on Sarah starting unwanted drama by not letting him into her tiny play house after he interrupts her and reader having a tea party, and she slams the plastic door and closes the windows on him and turning her little sign over that says “no boys allowed”

Well first, Joel's "interrupting" because its genuinely time for dinner and Sarah has ignored his call 3 times. He gets to his grumbly knees in the grass because her play house is literally 3 feet tall, all pink and purple and plastic af. He could blow the whole thing down in one breath but he CHOOSES not to (for fear of having you revoke his cuddle privileges).

So he knocks on the "open" sign that's scribbled in red crayon (undoubtedly by you because she can't spell yet).

She opens the door and stares at him with a pout.

"Its time to eat," he says calmly.

"We ARE eating. Bring us our food!" She snaps.

You giggle in the back. Despite being too big for the playhouse too, you managed to scrunch yourself inside and are currently sipping fake tea.

"I ain't ya servant little miss. Now get ya butt inside for--"

Sarah slams the plastic door shut before he could finish. She peers at him from the four by four bitty window frame (which has no glass BTW it's just a white frame) and she flips the sign that Joel conveniently got to "teach her a lesson" that reads NO BOYZ ALLOWED.

Honestly, he just sighs and chuckles to himself. As long as she knows she's never allowed to talk to or touch a boy ever, it's a win.

Until Tommy is stalking out the bsck door towards the play house.

"What are you doing here?" Joel asks as he brushes dirt off his jeans.

"I was invited."

"I didnt invite --"

"UNCLE TOMMY!" Sarah opens the door and urges him inside the house. He crawls in and says hi to you before Sarah tries to close the door on his big butt.

Joel's hand wedges between the door and wall to prevent it closing and shouts "If no boys allowed, why is Uncle Tommy here???"

"Hes not a BOY! He's uncle TOMMY!" She bellows. The little girl slams the door again right on his hand, pinching his fingers until he yanks them back and she's able to fully get the door closed. You and Tommy errupt in giggles inside.

Joel falls back on his ass in defeat. He inches over to the other side of the house that has more unoccupied windows. Sarah is busy scolding tommy for knocking over the table again with his cluncky knees, unable to get comfortable. You glance outside and smile at him.

"You okay in there?" He asks sweetly. "She ain't holding you hostage?"

"Im good, I promise," you kiss his fingers through the grate. "We're having fun in here, no daddies allowed."

He huffs.

You eye him up and down. "You look good on your knees," you hum with your tongue caught between your lips, a slight grin tugging along your mouth.

Joel blinks like a deer in headlights. He was expecting a million things but not that, and he's even more shocked how his body is processing it.

You pull away like its nothing. But Joel's got other ideas.

He picks up the entire play set just as Sarah screeches.

"Need Momma real quick," he says, completely ignoring Sarah's shouts, kicking and punching his shins. Joel scoops you up and then sets the house back over top his daughter and brother. Tommy grunts as it smacks his head but Joel's already carrying you in the house and up the stairs to the bed as you cackle.

#joel dealing with preggo wife #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fan fiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #last of us fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #joel and sarah #tlou fanfiction #tlou fluff #tlou fic #the last of us fluff #the last of us fic #last of us fic

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zhonglism · 2 days

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EIGHTEEN THOUSAND KILOMETRES

— oikawa tōru x f! reader

syn: your high school lover suddenly breaks up with you to chase his career in another continent. ten years later, you unexpectedly bump into him, and feelings that were once buried with time resurface once again but you know better than to let it consume you.

18+ MDNI; timeskip!oikawa, angst, hurt/no comfort (gets a bit better towards the end, trust), light smut, implied sex, brief mention of oral (f receiving), not-so-happy ending (sorry lol), iwaizumi being a good friend. divider: cafekitsune.

word count: 4.9k

notes: sorry i suck at writing the synopsis lmaoo pls trust me on this one. i may or may not have cried while writing this aaaaa i live for oikawa angst sm. feedback is more than welcome!

A few hours.

It took 18-year-old Tōru Oikawa a few hours to intricately gather his thoughts and tell you his plans regarding his future. His future. You always took that with a grain of salt because deep down there’s an impending fear that you weren’t always going to be a part of that, especially with how passionate Tōru was with volleyball—you just didn’t think it would come this soon.

Standing at the doorway to your boyfriend’s room, your clouded gaze followed each hesitant step taken as he quietly packed his clothes. Back and forth, back and forth, Tōru grabbed a handful of clothes from his closet and tossed it into an opened suitcase that lay on the floor. The tension in the room grew heavy with each passing second as his suitcase became evidently packed; your solemn gaze locked on his figure, his back remained facing you.

The silence was deafening, your neck burned with a searing blaze, all the things you wanted to scream at him were stuck in your throat. You’ve been standing on the same spot for more than half an hour now, you couldn’t feel the soles of your feet at all but that didn’t compare to the unbearable pain that weaved its way into your heart. Occasional sniffles and sighs escaped you both but nothing more, no one dared to address the elephant in the room right now. That in less than a day, Tōru was going to be eighteen thousand kilometres away from you. For good.

”We can make it work. .” A shaky sigh left your lips, voice hoarse despite not having the heart to yell and argue with him. Tōru gripped the fabrics in his hand, nails digging into the softness of the textiles, he mirrored your sigh and finally faced you. Eyes slightly red from holding his tears back, Tōru’s brows furrowed, “We’re going to be in two different continents. The time zone would be too much of a difference.”

You don’t have to remind me.

Biting your tongue in frustration, you stared at him. His eyes, his nose, his lips, anything and everything that would help you sear his appearance in your mind. “So you’re just going to let all this go? As easy as that?” Nothing in this is easy for me. For the first time in a few hours, Tōru inched closer to your unmoving figure. He’s been keeping a clear distance as if holding you tight against him would cause you to disappear in a flash despite his heart practically aching to be near you at this very moment.

It took all of Tōru’s willpower not to wrap his arms around you, and whisper into your ear over and over again how much he loves you; how scared he was that in less than a day, you weren’t going to be by his side anymore. He was a coward. He knew that doing so would only worsen the situation at hand.

“You and I have futures to pursue, you of all people should know that.” The wooden frame of his bed creaked as he plopped down with another sigh. “B-but you don’t have to end our relationship like this . . ! Maybe I can go to Argentina with you and—” Your boyfriend waved a dismissive hand and let out an empty chuckle, “Don’t be so irrational.” “You’re the irrational one here, Oikawa!” You raised your voice at him, tone trembling with anger and fear as your nails painfully dug into the plushness of your palms.

Your chest rapidly rose and fell with each heavy breath taken, unshed tears threatening to fall from your eyes. Why did he have to do this? Ever since entering a relationship with Tōru, you’ve always known that you only came second to volleyball but you didn’t know it’d hurt this much. Despite having no intentions of holding him back from the future he has worked hard to carve, you couldn’t help but become a little selfish on your end. Why did Tōru have the need to feel that breaking up with you was the best solution?

As mentioned earlier, you’d do anything and everything to make it work. You were hoping. Hoping that your boyfriend would at least reconsider breaking off the relationship but knowing him, once he had set his mind straight, there was no turning back.

“Do you not love me anymore?” You whispered into the silent room. Tōru looked away as he caught a glimpse of your deflated expression, shutting his eyes as he tried not to think of that specific expression in his mind. All he could muster was a weak rebuttal but he dared not to explain further, even if he wanted, he couldn’t bring himself to. Not when the situation was already taking a toll on both of you. He spoke again, voice threatening to waver,

“Will you come see me off tomorrow?”

You didn’t go despite Iwaizumi’s pleas to see Tōru off with him. You couldn’t. The least you could give yourself right now was space, and seeing your boyfriend off to another country would do more harm than good, especially knowing that he wasn’t yours anymore nor you were his. It took Iwaizumi more than thirty texts to finally give up, it was a rare occurrence as it wasn’t in your friend’s nature to be persistent like that.

You’re thankful that he cares for you a lot because for the first few weeks without Tōru’s presence, both of you confided in each other. There were occurrences where you had to turn down his requests on joining him for a weekly video call with Tōru who still had a hard time settling down in a foreign country; in your mind, you had no business communicating with your ex-boyfriend anymore—he broke off the relationship and that was that.

Weeks turned into months, and months turned into years. As you moved on with life and focused on your career ahead, naturally, you found yourself burying the painful past behind. Not to mention how you deleted Tōru’s number—after painfully reminiscing old texts with him—and blocked him from all your social media accounts. It’s been ten years now and Oikawa was the least of your concern, he was just a person from the past that you’re thankful to have met.

After all, if it wasn’t for what he did, you wouldn’t have learned to grow as an individual and truly seek what you wanted. During the course of your relationship with Oikawa, you were more than content supporting him in his volleyball career, standing at the sidelines and cheering him on but you didn’t know what you wanted for yourself then, and maybe Oikawa saw that earlier on. That breaking up was a way for you to flourish as your own person, not someone who stood amongst the crowd.

It was a peaceful weekend afternoon, passing time at the local convenience store to buy whatever snack you felt like eating before heading home to retire for the day and possibly binge a series you’ve been meaning to watch. Walking down the bread aisle, you caught a glimpse of a very familiar sight. Milk bread. Chuckling, you found yourself reminiscing about the old high school days where you and Oikawa would stop by to buy a pack of milk bread whenever he ran out. You haven’t eaten one since the day he left you.

It wouldn’t hurt to try one now, you thought to yourself. Reaching for the closest pack, another hand suddenly reached out to the one you had set your eyes onto. Both yours and the stranger’s arms retracted back in embarrassment, “S-sorry! You can go ahead and grab it.” You profusely apologised, not noticing the expression the stranger wore. Upon their silence, you drew your attention to the man standing beside you and blinked twice.

It seemed like the only option when the stranger before you was not just any shopper, it was none other than Tōru Oikawa. If you were to tell your 18-year-old self that ten years later, you’d be face to face with your ex-boyfriend, you wouldn’t have believed it. Everything felt strange—from the way the ambience of the store faded into white nothingness, to the way Oikawa felt painfully familiar yet different; he wore the same genuine shock plastered on your face—eyes wide, brows sky high, and lips slightly parted. You wondered if his ears were ringing too or if his heart threatened to leap from his chest. Oikawa was the first to break his trance, searching his mind high and low to find something, anything to say to you.

He was speaking yet nothing was heard on your end, only your own storm of thoughts. All you could muster was to really take him in. His hazel eyes shone beneath the harsh ivory lights of the store—everything about him was the same but unfamiliar; his hair was styled the same way ten years ago but a little shorter, his evident athletic build, his sun kissed skin, his aura. It was your turn to finally return to reality as Oikawa warily waved a slender hand inches from your face, “O-Oikawa. . ?” was all you could come up with, tone airy yet just above a whisper for him to hear. Oikawa greeted your unreadable expression with a familiar warm smile as if the two of you were ten years back in time, hearts beating for one another.

“It’s been a while, huh?” He hummed.

Everything was a blur—from the painfully awkward start of the conversation, to brazenly inviting him back to your apartment to prolong the spontaneous catch up. You were surprised because you both managed to flow into a smooth conversation where no one had to think of anything and everything just to keep the impending silence away. It was weird, you’ve always imagined that seeing Oikawa once again would reel you back in the most unpleasant way; the deepest memories you’ve sworn to reject resurfacing.

But the whole situation before you was a damn far cry from the scenarios in your mind—Oikawa had no hesitations telling you about his life for the past ten years, even going out of his way to inform you of his favourite local meals back in Argentina and how he applied for his citizenship, so you did the same thing. It was like being a teenager all over again, gushing to one another about your interests, and whatever else there was to talk about. You caught a glint in Oikawa’s hazel eyes as he spoke endlessly, almost as if he had been waiting ten whole years just to tell you everything that’s been going on in his life, like he knew the two of you were bound to meet again one way or another.

A solemn smile made its way to his face, the atmosphere in your apartment shifting with it. You held a breath, heart violently pounding against your chest possibly knowing where the conversation was going. “You were the only one I wanted to see, you know? Before I. .” Oikawa trailed off, looking down at his fingers. You nodded, knowing exactly what he was referring to.

It pained you to even imagine it: 18-year-old Tōru Oikawa restlessly scanning the bustling airport for your familiar figure, eyes darting between the ocean of people coming in and out of the terminal, heart sinking down to his stomach as each second passed without your presence. Despite the countless times Iwaizumi reminded him you weren’t coming, he waited. Oikawa waited and waited until he needed to proceed to the airport security, each heavy step further into the airport, he’d hoped you’d call out his name and give him one last hug before he left for Argentina but you never came. That night, Oikawa realised he’d left a piece of his heart back home.

”I’m sorry. .” Was all you could muster. In your defence, he wasn’t the only one hurting—you were torn between saving what’s left of your broken heart and giving in to your desires. Of course, you picked the former. That time, it seemed like the best idea, though, you’d be lying to yourself if you said there weren’t restless nights where you wish you’d gone to see Oikawa off. It plagued you for as long as your cruel mind wanted, scenarios of what could have been a proper goodbye seared into your brain—a one last hug before letting Oikawa chase his dreams, uncertain when you’d be able to see him again.

Oikawa let out a sigh, a breath he didn’t know he had been holding, “I missed you.” He took a small sip of his drink, letting the sweet taste linger on his tongue before nervously swallowing. It took all his willpower to avoid your gaze, staring at the ivory walls ahead, hoping you’d say something sooner or later instead of letting the small confession awkwardly linger in the air. You chuckled, a humourless one,

“You know, I’d be more upset if you didn’t.”

The man whipped his head to your direction, meeting that meaningful gaze of yours; he looked like a deer caught in the headlights—eyes wide and lips slightly parted. For the first time in a while, Tōru Oikawa felt his heart race; it wasn’t like any other, not like the adrenaline rush that took over his body before a match, not like the nervousness he felt when he boarded the plane to Argentina for the first time. It was unique. Uniquely yours. Only you made him feel this way. In the blink of an eye, Oikawa felt like he was pulled back in time, a teenager all over again, brimming with such emotions. If it weren’t for his quick senses, he wouldn’t have noticed the way your gaze subtly shifted downwards—to his lips—and then back up to his eyes.

Have you been on edge all this time, too? Filled with overwhelming emotions? He thought. Yes, it’s been ten long years but that doesn’t mean his heart did not beat for you anymore; it doesn’t mean that he has stopped thinking about you; it doesn’t mean that he did not want to kiss you the moment he laid his eyes on you back at the convenience store. Surely, you didn’t feel the same, right? But then again, it’s been a decade and Oikawa’s feelings remained indifferent to when he left.

A brush of gentle fingers against your cheek caused your eyes to instinctively close, knowing fully well what was about to happen next. A single click from the white clock that hung on your wall. A second. And then Oikawa’s lips were on yours. The kiss was anything but foreign—sure, it felt stiff at first, suddenly not knowing how to match your lips with his but it has been ten years. The kiss was meek but after a heartbeat, you and Oikawa moved in complete unison, falling into that specific pattern you both knew—how he moved his lips, how he let out gasps in between, how he eagerly prodded his tongue. Your head spun, hands exploring Oikawa’s built torso while his own focused on your head, tugging at the strands and gently rubbing your nape.

The atmosphere shifted with the newly found desire, small moans and gasps filled the walls of your apartment as Oikawa kissed you with hunger—as if he was a starved man. He didn’t hesitate to explore you with his tongue, groaning into your mouth before pulling away to take a breather—chests heaving as you both gasped for air, faces mere centimetres from each other, hot breaths intertwining. He looked at you with hooded eyes, gaze filled with carnal desire as he gave your swollen lips a small peck. “I want you so bad . .” Oikawa breathed out, eyes tracing every dip and curve of your features.

Cupping his crimson red cheeks, you gave him a small smile, “I’m all yours.” Always have been and always will be, you wanted to add but already you had an idea Oikawa knew that more than anyone else.

The short journey from the living room to your bedroom was a blur—it was messy, eager hands exploring each other’s body, hungry lips inseparable from one another, articles of clothing swiftly discarded along the path to your bedroom. Lying atop the sheets, your eyes wandered along Oikawa’s bare sun kissed torso—his physique was much bigger than you last remembered, muscles flexing with every movement that had you painfully clenching around nothing.

He stood at the foot of the bed, chestnut hair tousled from the work of your fingers, bare chest heaving from the kiss, and fingers working at the zip of his pants. You took the time to really drink him in—the entirety of him; reality settling on you how much he had grown as a man. Oikawa was no longer that naïve 18-year-old who swallowed all his fears and insecurities with a flirtatious façade.

He eagerly pulled down the remaining clothes he had on, swiftly crawling up the bed towards you, not giving any time to revel at the sight of his bare cock before kissing you again, his fingers intertwining with your own.

It felt surreal, from the way the heat of Oikawa’s naked body felt against your own to the way his kisses explored parts of you that he’s never seen before. He took his time, admiring every inch of your bare body, not hesitating to blurt out praises that came to his mind first thing. “You’re beautiful.” Oikawa whispers against the warmth of your skin followed by an open-mouthed kiss.

He held you gently, caressing and massaging every bit of skin he could get his hands on. He knew better than to rush such an intimate moment with you, especially when he’s been fantasizing about this for the past decade—fantasizing about how your skin would feel beneath his searing touch; how you’d sound when he stimulates the most sensitive parts of your body, how you’d look when pleasure is all you can think about. It drove him absolutely impatient but for you, he’s willing to slow down if it meant he could savour these moments with you—Oikawa has patiently waited for ten years, full of uncertainty. What more was a few minutes to bask in your beauty?

Attentive as ever, he scanned your face for any sign of discomfort, focusing on the way you moaned and scrunched your face in pleasure as he tasted you. God, you tasted like pure heaven—divine. Oikawa could get lost between your legs forever, everything about you drove him crazy. Not to mention how your scent had him completely whipped.

The night continued on like this, Oikawa eagerly exploring your body, pleasuring you in ways you didn’t know even existed—it was almost like he had a list of things at the back of his mind, neatly tucked away for when this specific moment comes. There was never a moment of uncertainty, his body swiftly moving into the next act, bringing you with him. Despite your own pleas to return the pleasure, Oikawa refused, even as his cock leaked with pre-cum, begging to be touched by you. He didn’t have to do all the work but he did, only because he wanted to. He wanted to show you how much his body yearned and desired to be close to yours; ten years was no easy wait. Sure, Oikawa had a fair share of mere hookups with other women but they weren’t you. They will never be you.

As the moon shone amongst the ebony skies, moonlight seeped through the window, casting a faint ethereal glow upon your sweat-coated bodies—skin shining like the stars above. You held onto Oikawa’s shoulders for dear life, ribbons of moans and curses tumbled past your lips and into the thick air of the room, travelling to the ceiling above.

He moved with fervour, hips relentlessly driving into your own as he buried his face into the crook of your neck. Back and forth, back and forth, the steady rhythm of Oikawa’s hips, jolting your body along each forceful thrust. It was heaven on earth, naked bodies tangled amongst the ivory sheets as you lost yourselves in each other, one thing in mind. You both cared about nothing at this point, not even the fact that he still had to go back home—to Argentina; not even the fact that your hearts beat as one, interlacing with one another as buried feelings blossomed out in the open—the unsaid, the desire, everything came beautifully crashing down upon the two of you, unsure about what the future holds. That was a conversation for tomorrow, anyway.

Amidst the overwhelming pleasure, the creaking of the bed, and the lewd moans that filled your room, Oikawa found your hand once again, interlacing his damp fingers with yours. He gave it a small squeeze, moaning right into your ear before slipping out a confession, “I love you so much.” It caught you off guard, eyes fluttering open, returning his lustful gaze. “I—” “It’s okay. .” Oikawa cut you off, steadying his breath. He knew exactly what you’d say—that you love him, too—but somehow hearing those words from you after all these years was even more painful than rejecting him because at the end of the day he had to go home.

The night carried on with more and more pleasure, each orgasm becoming more intense than the previous, the movements of your bodies showed signs of exhaustion but none dared to stop—as if stopping was somewhat going to take one away from the other. You’ve never felt anything like this before, waves of pleasure rolling out and crashing into you repeatedly; all you could really do was hold Oikawa tightly, whispering sweet nothings against his neck. God, you could only wish for this to last forever.

As the morning rolled around, the sun shone brightly through your window, slowly burning your skin the longer you stayed in one position. Groaning, you stretched your naked body, muscles painfully crying out from overuse. Normally, you would have cared about it but the spot beside you was cold and empty, no sign of Oikawa. The realisation hit you, heart sinking to the depths of your stomach. Did he leave already? And not even saying goodbye? The loud sound coming from the kitchen pulled you out of the storm of unpleasant thoughts. Ignoring the weakness of your legs, you did your best to slip into a fresh pair of underwear before grabbing Oikawa’s shirt that lay at the entrance of your room to head to the kitchen.

You sucked in a breath. There he stood, only wearing pants from last night while navigating through the small space of your kitchen. He hummed a familiar tune, the saccharine sound of his voice mixing with the sizzling of the eggs he cooked. “Oikawa.” The man before you turned at the sound of your voice, pleasantly shocked, “Good morning, sleepyhead.” He greeted in a singsong voice. You would’ve called him ‘cute’ if it weren’t for the evident lovebites, hues of dark purple and red peppering his torso—it immediately reminded you of last night, cheeks heating up at the lewd memories. “Take a seat. This is done.” Oikawa skilfully plated the eggs, grabbing the freshly toasted bread before heading to the table where you now sat. It was weird yet nice to see him so domestic, something you never really experienced back then.

“Thank you.” You look up at him, a faint smile dancing upon your lips. Oikawa shook his head, “It’s nothing. Just a simple breakfast.” You weren’t talking about the breakfast, though, and he knew that as well but dared not to bring it up. It was bittersweet, really, how the two of you acted right now felt so right but so wrong at the same time—you both acted like a normal couple during a normal morning, as if there wasn’t a return ticket neatly tucked inside Oikawa’s passport that weighed his heart heavy with each passing second in your presence.

Thank you for showing me what could have been.

That was what you meant earlier. Getting the pleasure to look into the life of what could have been with Tōru Oikawa wasn’t much but it put your yearning heart at ease—that in another life, he’d be cooking eggs for you again without having to think about flying back home; that in another life, you ended up together. Maybe if you were still eighteen, you would have cried, screamed at him for getting your hopes up, for leaving you once again, for breaking your heart a second time, you weren’t a teenager anymore but that didn’t mean you were immune to seeing him leave you again—you just got older, and became better at swallowing unwanted emotions.

That’s right. You weren’t a teenager anymore. “You’re leaving tomorrow.” You bit the inside of your cheek, addressing the elephant in the room; you swore Oikawa flinched a little at your straightforwardness. It wasn’t pretty to hear but it also wasn’t a lie. He took a small bite, carefully swallowing the piece before meeting your gaze, “Yeah, Iwa is dropping me off at the airport in the afternoon. .” His sentence lingered in the air, it didn’t dissipate, it stayed there waiting to be finished. You remained silent despite having an idea of what was to come next, you wanted him to say it, just like he did ten years ago. Oikawa nervously cleared his throat,

“Will you come see me off tomorrow?”

Much to Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s surprise, you came to see the former off—a little breathless from jogging around the terminal but at least you were in one piece. You didn’t notice the way Iwaizumi’s eyes widened at the love bites on your neck matching his best friend’s one; he was well aware of what happened between you and Oikawa the other day but just didn’t expect the intensity of it, especially with the situation now, nonetheless, he remained silent. Iwaizumi figured he’d talk to you about it later.

Everything slowed down as Oikawa set his hazel eyes on you—the bustling of the airport, the time displayed on the large digital clock, his racing heart. What he felt right now was a far cry from that day when he left for the first time; ten years ago, everything felt like it was slipping past his fingers. Oikawa remembers pacing back and forth just outside the men’s toilet, Iwaizumi’s attempts to calm him down fell deaf on his ears—all the former could hear was the uncomfortable beat of his heart, and the buzz around him. He tried his best to calm down, he really did but to no avail because at the back of his mind, you were the remedy. If Oikawa told his 18-year-old self that he wouldn’t have to stress so much about flying back to Argentina anymore, his younger self would most likely not believe him—having permanently associated the airport with the dreadful feeling of missing something. Missing someone.

Ten years later, he knows not to worry anymore. “Tōru.” You called out, giving Iwaizumi a quick wave before walking towards the taller man. “You came.” He replied, breathless, not knowing whether to scream at the fact that you came to see him off or called him by his first name. Oh, how Oikawa endlessly prayed to the universe for the day his name rolls off your tongue once again. It was sweet—meant to be voiced by you and only you. The three of you exchanged casual conversation like it was back in high school all over again—small banters here and there between the two men, a little teasing on the side, and most importantly, the unsaid thoughts.

You didn’t want this to end, you didn’t want to let him go but you knew better. Oikawa gave his best friend a firm hug and turned to you, arms spread wide, a sad smile etched on his face. “I’ll miss you so so much.” You let out a sigh, inhaling his scent for one last time as he tightened his hold around you. Oikawa rested his chin on the crown of your head, a light chuckle escaping his lips, “I’d be more upset if you didn’t.” He pulled away, cupping your face and resting his forehead against your own,

“I love you so much. You know that, right?” “I love you too, Tōru.”

Who knew that ten years later you’d be watching the back of your ex lover’s figure walk away from you as he leaves the country—it was silly how the universe worked but you never once doubted it. Despite how cruel it was, you’d already come to terms with it; finally letting go of Tōru Oikawa. You both had different paths in life to pursue, and that was that. It just wasn’t meant to be.

Iwaizumi gave you a friendly pat on the back, noticing the way tears quickly formed as Oikawa faced the other way. Yes, you were older now, more mature but that meant nothing as the love of your life walked away from you once again. You didn’t want to admit it back then but ever since Oikawa left for Argentina, he had taken a piece of your heart with him. And maybe you’ll just have to live with the fact that your heart will stay incomplete—a piece of it remaining eighteen thousand kilometres away from you.

#zhonglism ༄#oikawa tooru #haikyuu #oikawa angst #oikawa smut #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #oikawa x y/n #haikyuu angst #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #smut #mdni

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urhoneycombwitch · 2 days

Text

sick days

foreword: first proper fic for dad!Steve series!! thanks for requesting, anon. happy mother’s day to those who celebrate, and to those who don’t (cheers)- I hope this fic is a comfort. hair texture and skin color of the kids in this series will not be described- any physical descriptors will be of their likeness to Steve. if you want to read the origin story/meet-cute of this version of Steve + reader, you can read that here!

{for every ear a flower: series masterlist}

cw: mom!reader, R wears Steve’s shirt, the whole fam is sick in this one (no emetophobia warning tho!), fluff and parental caretaking

wc: 1.6k

___

There’s a soft noise around the corner, and Steve dog-ears his novel to scoot forward on the couch, voice soft and inviting. “Hey, buttercup. That you?”

His eldest daughter, JJ, peeks out from the entryway of the living room. “Me.”

“It’s you,” Steve confirms with a hum, setting his book on the coffee table to open his arms. “C’mere, babe. Your stomach hurting again?”

JJ gravitates towards her dad’s lap like a magnet, dragging her yellow flower-print baby blanket behind her. She’s already three and a half, but Steve hopes she never grows out of it- or the tiny socks with ruffles, warm in his big hand as he holds both her feet in a comforting squeeze.

“Head hurts,” JJ says, in a heartbreaking whine, settling her weight against the contours of Steve’s chest.

He sighs in sympathy, rocking his first baby in his arms like he did when she was even smaller. “Your head hurts? That’s no good.”

JJ makes a noise of agreement and burrows into Steve’s neck, cheek warm where skin meets skin. Steve slides a hand up her back, over her pink cotton nightie, to feel for lingering fever- her forehead is warm but not overly so.

In silent thanks to the wonders of Baby Tylenol, Steve kisses the crown of JJ’s head and pats the side of her leg. “Tell you what- it’s past bedtime but you’re not feeling so good. Wanna watch a movie out here with me ‘til you fall asleep?”

Normally this news would be cause for a screech of delight and some couch jumping, but on the tail end of a long week of sickness, Steve’s little girl just plucks absently at his shirt collar. “Mommy too?”

“Mommy’s putting your sister down for bed,” Steve says, and then (because he always tries to be mindful of where blame could land, knowing full well that disappointment can breed sibling rivalries, and he doesn’t think he could stand seeing that sisterly bond turn contentious)- “But I’ll go see if she needs some help, and then maybe we can all be cozy on the couch. Sounds good?”

JJ hums in response, sounding faded and fatigued, and Steve moves carefully to keep the jostling to a minimum as he stands to re-situate his kiddo on the couch. After tucking the blanket in yellow swaths around her body, Steve turns to the nearby VHS stack above the TV.

“You want Ariel?” he asks, already reaching to free The Little Mermaid from its plastic confines.

“Yeah. But no Urz-la,” comes the reply from the couch.

Steve kneels to load the tape into the deck, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they’d slipped. “I promise I’ll be back in time to fast forward.”

The VCR whirs, opening credits coming to life on the screen with a colorful overture to match. After lowering the volume, Steve backtracks to the couch again, dipping to place a kiss against the dimples in JJ’s hand where it curls around a fistful of fabric.

“Be back in a few, buttercup.”

The cheery music fades as Steve moves down the hall; the first door on the right is partially open, and he leans a shoulder against the frame, quietly observing, not wanting to interrupt your rhythm.

In a pair of comfy sweatpants and Steve’s old Hawkins High tee, your form moves smoothly around the darkened room, tracking a short loop from the crib to the changing table on the opposing wall. You’re walking with a gentle bounce, swaying the baby in your arms with each step, a constant murmur of nonsensical soothing as you rock your youngest to sleep.

“That’s it. You’re a sweet girl. Just close your eyes, ‘kay? Shh shh shh. Sleepy time.”

Steve can hear the exhaustion in your voice, even low as it is, and feels a twist of guilt- the college where the two of you work only allows librarian staff one day of sick leave per month, which Steve considers a crime (JJ gets sick at least that often from whatever germs her preschool provides).

Thankfully, his professor leave is slightly better, a generous three days a month, which he’s unintentionally blown in a week with this last bout of mystery sickness that’s been passed through his little family.

You, on the other hand, were only afforded a three-day weekend, and not a very restful one at that: on top of trying to recover from sickness yourself, a fevered baby Birdie has been overly fussy while JJ has been desperately clingy to both you and Steve.

It’s been a long weekend of rotating in and out of three bedrooms, disrupted sleep schedules, and speedy trips to the local pharmacy; a blur of constant motion as Steve and you have tried your best to stay afloat and tend to your sick kids.

Steve’s grateful the worst of it is over, now that everyone’s fevers have broken, and he’s glad you’ve still got a whole Sunday to recover. But by the looks of it- hovering uncertain over the bars of Birdie’s crib, unwilling to lay her sleeping form down- you’re not giving in to recoup time yet.

Steve moves in behind you, quiet still but shuffling his bare feet against the carpet a bit to let you know he’s there. “Hey,” he whispers into the curve of your neck, hands coming to rest at your hips, joining the rocking motion you’re keeping up for the sake of the baby. “How’s my girl?”

“Better, I think.” The arm that isn’t holding the weight of your six-month-old comes to rest against the fat of her cheek, Birdie’s closed eyelids fluttering while you feel for fever, just as Steve had earlier. “Hopefully she’ll sleep through the night, with this medicine.”

“Mhm. She’s a lot better, babe- I meant you.” Steve molds himself to the contours of your back, swaying to the tempo you keep, nosing up the line of your neck to place a kiss behind your ear. “Can’t pour from an empty chalice. Or whatever that saying is.”

There’s a soft stutter at your ribs as you exhale a laugh, hand still on the face of your sleeping baby. “Think Eddie’s wearing off on you.”

“God forbid.” His arms wrap around your middle, chin resting on your shoulder, smiling when he feels you lean some of your weight against him. “You can put her down, honey. She’s gonna be okay. Come watch Ariel with me ‘n buttercup. I’ll even skip past the scary parts for ya.”

“Well, in that case,” you whisper back, a tinge of amusement in your sleep-scratchy voice that hits Steve in his soft spot of love for you. With reluctance and practiced ease, you slip forward from his arms to lay Birdie in her crib, pausing to make sure she’ll settle without your warmth and movements.

She stays asleep, and you stay watching her, corner night light illuminating the steady rise and fall of her footy-pajama’d body with each breath until Steve takes your hand, gently coaxing- “She’s golden, honey. You did great. I’ve got the monitor by the couch, so we’ll hear if she’s up, okay?”

Your gaze stays on Birdie even as Steve leads you backwards towards the door, even leaning to catch one last glimpse before he pulls the door to a near-close. In the light of the hallway, you blink, looking more worn out than Steve’s ever seen you.

He brings your hand up to his mouth, kissing across the knuckles, tortoiseshell-framed eyes on your half-lidded ones. “Ariel?”

This seems to resonate in the fog of your mind; with a nod, you squeeze his hand. “Ariel.”

On the living room TV, Ariel and Flounder are exploring a shipwreck, and JJ’s watching from her snuggled spot with glazed eyes until she sees you in the doorway. “Mommy,” she says, with feeling, trying to prop herself up but getting tangled in the process.

“Hi, baby,” you greet with equal verve, kneeling to give your eldest baby some untangling and a kiss. “Can I watch Ariel with you?”

In response, JJ musters all her three-and-a-half-year-old strength to pull you on to the couch cushion, and Steve chuckles in tandem with you as you go easily, shushing gently- “Okay, JJ. Don’t strain yourself, angel, just rest.”

There’s nothing like your touch. Steve knows it, and so do both his kids- under the circular pattern you trace against JJ’s face pressed into your leg, her lashes flutter, lulled to calm again by the caress of your fingertips.

After Steve makes sure that the baby monitor on the windowsill is crackling with life, he eases into the spot beside you, draping his arm around your shoulders- you nestle into his side out of habit. JJ’s nearly asleep, but your hand doesn’t waver, generous and tender even though sleep pulls at the edges of all your movements.

A shark snaps at tailfins across the screen, volume low enough to not shake JJ from the sleep she’s fallen into. Steve kisses that same spot behind your ear, then whispers, “Perfectly good shoulder right here. Wish you’d use it.”

He’s rewarded with a dreamy smile as you give in, head dropping to rest in the hollow of his waiting shoulder. Your hand stops its tracing, instead landing to rest securely over your daughter’s arm.

Soon, Steve is eased to sleep by the quiet breaths filling the living room, head tilted back against the couch, glasses tilted to one side. He’ll have a killer neck crick in the morning, but it’ll be worth it.

And luckily for him, you’ve got the most healing hands in the world.

#for every ear a flower #dad!steve #dad!steve harrington #oc!kid #oc!kids #dad!steve harrington x mom!reader #mom!reader #steve harrington #st fic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x reader #Steve Harrington x you

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