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pucksandpower · 9 hours

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Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: congrats … it’s a boy!

You wake up to the sound of the apartment door closing, followed by Charles’ familiar footsteps down the hallway. Sunlight streams in through the curtains as he enters the bedroom, still dressed in his sweaty workout clothes.

“Mon amour, you’ll never believe what just happened,” he says, unable to contain his excitement.

You rub the sleep from your eyes. “What is it, babe?”

“I adopted Oscar Piastri.”

You blink a few times, unsure if you heard that correctly. “You … adopted Oscar Piastri? The McLaren driver?”

“Yes!” Charles exclaims, flopping down on the bed beside you. “It all started when he tweeted about wanting to find Monégasque roots so the Monaco Grand Prix could be his home race.”

“Okay ...” You try to wrap your head around this bizarre situation.

“So I replied saying I could just adopt him if needed. And you know how Oscar is, always ready with a witty comeback.” Charles grins. “He said to call him Oscar Jack Piastri-Leclerc and that he wants to meet Leo on Thursday at McLaren.”

“Charles ...” You can’t help but laugh at the sheer absurdity. “You can’t just adopt a fully-grown man! Especially another F1 driver!”

“Why not?” He throws his arm around you, pulling you close. “We’re gonna be one big happy family. The two of us, Leo, Oscar, Ollie, and whoever else we decide to adopt along the way.”

You playfully shove him away. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

“Maybe a little.” Charles winks. “But you love me for it.”

Rolling your eyes, you get out of bed and head for the kitchen, Charles trailing behind. “So does this mean Oscar is coming for family dinner this Thursday?”

“Of course! We have to celebrate properly.” Charles scoops Leo up from his bed, cradling the puppy in his arms. “What do you say, Leo? You ready to have another big brother?”

Leo licks Charles’ face, tail wagging excitedly. You lean against the counter, watching your husband and puppy with a fond smile.

“I suppose I’ll have to set an extra place at the table,” you muse. “Your mother is going to flip when she finds out about this.”

“Maman keeps asking when we’ll give her grandchildren, she’ll be thrilled!” Charles insists. “Who wouldn’t want Oscar as a grandson?”

You snort at that. “Grandson? You’ve really thought this through, haven’t you?”

“I’m serious!” He sets Leo down and wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flush against him. “We can make it official. Have a baby shower and everything once this weekend is over with.”

“You’re unbelievable.” You shake your head in amused exasperation, resting your hands on his chest.

Charles leans in close, his warm breath fanning across your face. “Admit it, my particular brand of crazy kinda does it for you.”

You bite your lip to stifle a grin. “Keep talking and maybe I’ll consider it.”

His eyes spark with mischief and he dips his head to capture your lips in a searing kiss. You melt against him, tangling your fingers in his hair and kissing him back with equal fervor. A loud bark from Leo breaks you apart, both slightly flushed.

“Not in front of the puppy,” Charles teases, booping Leo on the nose.

You swat his arm. “Stop being a brat and go take a shower, you’re all gross and sweaty from the gym.”

“Mmm, why don’t you join me?” He waggles his eyebrows in an over-exaggerated leer.

You laugh, shoving him away playfully. “Not a chance, mister. I have to go out and buy another place setting for our new family member.”

“Can I at least have a good luck kiss? It’s Monaco race week, after all. I’ll need all the luck I can get.” Charles bats his eyes at you in an exaggerated pout.

Shaking your head fondly, you rise up on your tiptoes to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “There. Now go get ready.”

Still grinning like a loon, Charles saunters off to the bathroom. You crouch down and scoop up Leo, pressing a kiss to the top of his fuzzy head.

“Your dad is something else, you know that?” You murmur affectionately.

A few hours later, you return home laden with groceries to find Charles lounging on the couch scrolling through his phone. He looks up as you enter, eyes bright.

“Good timing, I was just about to call you.”

“Oh yeah?” You set the bags on the counter and start unpacking. “What’s up?”

“I was thinking ...” Charles gets up and comes over, wrapping his arms around you from behind. “We should do something special for Oscar’s first official family dinner. Maybe a nice home cooked meal out on the balcony?”

You lean back against his chest with a contented hum. “That does sound lovely.”

“I’ll cook!” Charles volunteers immediately. “My famous carbonara?”

“You just want to show Oscar you can manage to make something without burning the apartment down, don’t you?” You laugh, twisting in his embrace to face him.

Charles ducks his head sheepishly. “Maybe a little.”

“Well, I’m not complaining.” You peck him on the cheek. “Go ahead and make your carbonara for our new adopted son.”

“Yes!” He pumps his fist in the air victoriously.

You shake your head at his antics, warmth blooming in your chest. “I love you, you big goof.”

The smile Charles gives you is utterly radiant. “I love you too.”

He pulls you in for a deep, lingering kiss, holding you close. You get so lost in the moment that you don’t notice Leo trotting up and pawing at your legs until he lets out a pointed bark. Laughing, you reluctantly break the kiss.

“Sorry, baby.” Charles scoops up the puppy, scratching behind his ears. “We didn’t mean to leave you out.”

You take Leo from his arms, pressing a smiling kiss to his soft fur. “Don’t worry, you’ll always be our favorite.”

“That’s right,” Charles agrees, booping Leo’s nose. “No matter how many race car drivers we adopt, you’ll always be number one.”

The three of you spend the rest of the afternoon lounging contentedly together, Charles and Leo snuggled up on either side of you. It almost makes you forget the madness that kick started this whole situation in the first place.

Almost.

A few days later, after the drivers have finally been freed from their Thursday media obligations, your doorbell rings. You share a look with Charles as Leo starts barking.

“I’ll get it,” he says, already knowing who it is.

Sure enough, a few moments later Charles returns to the living room with Oscar in tow, looking rather sheepish. You rise to greet your new son.

“Oscar, hi! Come on in.” You pull him in for a hug, which he returns tentatively.

“Sorry about all … this.” Oscar gestures vaguely as you part. “I was just joking on Twitter but then Charles actually went and-”

“Adopted you, yeah.” You laugh. “Don’t worry about it, we’re happy to have you as part of the family.”

“Still getting used to that idea, to be honest.” Oscar scratches the back of his neck.

You wave a dismissive hand. “Well, get ready for lots of family gatherings and parental nagging from this point on.”

“Oh boy.” Despite his words, Oscar’s mouth quirks up in an amused grin.

“Starting with tonight’s big family dinner out on the balcony,” Charles interjects, slinging an arm around Oscar’s shoulders. “You like pasta?”

“Do I ever.” Oscar brightens. “Is Leo gonna be there too?”

“Of course! Can’t leave out my favorite son.” Charles scoops up the puppy, plopping him in Oscar’s arms. “Here, get acquainted with your new little brother.”

“Hiya little guy,” Oscar says softly, instantly melting as Leo licks his face. You watch the tender interaction with a warm smile.

“He’s taken a real shine to you already,” you comment. “I think Leo approves of his new big brother.”

Oscar ducks his head shyly but you can see the corners of his mouth tugging up into a grin. “Guess that makes me an official part of the family then.”

“Damn right it does!” Charles crows, throwing an arm around each of your shoulders and pulling you both in for an enthusiastic group hug.

You laugh, squished between them. “Easy there, dad. You’re gonna smother the poor kid before he’s even settled in.”

“What, you’re not excited to finally have your dream son?” Charles teases, ruffling Oscar’s hair affectionately. “Our little family is complete now.”

Rolling your eyes fondly, you extricate yourself from the embrace. “Why don’t you boys go set up for dinner while I start cooking? The balcony still needs to be prepped.”

“You got it, mon cœur.” Charles drops a kiss on your cheek before herding Oscar out towards the balcony, Leo cradled in his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get this place looking perfect for your first official Leclerc family dinner.”

You shake your head as their voices fade down the hall, chuckling under your breath. Only your husband would take a silly Twitter joke this far. But as you start gathering ingredients for your grandmother’s legendary bolognese recipe, you can’t help but feel a swell of contentment.

Having Oscar around is certainly going to take some getting used to. But there’s no denying the warm affection and familial love you already feel towards the bashful but kindhearted young man. He fits right in with the playful, chaotic energy that defines your little household.

By the time the sun begins to dip below the horizon, bathing the apartment in a warm golden glow, the balcony is set up beautifully. You carry out the steaming pots of food to find Charles and Oscar setting out plates and glasses, Leo scampering around their feet. Your heart feels full just looking at them.

“This all looks wonderful, you two,” you say, setting the food down on the table. “Now we just need the guest of honor to arrive.”

“Maman’s never been late to dinner a day in her life,” Charles assures you. “She’ll be here any minute.”

Sure enough, there’s a rapid knocking at the door only moments later. You share an amused look with Oscar before going to answer it, Charles and Leo trailing behind.

“Maman!” Charles exclaims as you pull open the door to reveal his mother waiting on the other side. “Perfect timing.”

“Of course, we can’t start dinner without-” She breaks off abruptly as her eyes land on Oscar hovering behind you. “Charles, darling, who is this?”

“Maman, I’d like you to meet Oscar.” Charles beams as he gestures between them. “Your new grandson.”

A heavy silence falls over the room as Charles’ mother processes this bombshell. Her gaze flicks between the three of you, searching your faces for any sign that this is all an elaborate prank.

Finally, she seems to deflate with a sigh. “Oh Charles … what have you done now?”

And just like that, the floodgates open as both of you rush to explain the situation, talking over each other eagerly. Watching the animated scene unfold, Oscar catches your eye with a helpless look.

You just shrug, a soft smile playing at your lips. Chaotic as it is, this is your family now and wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

The following week, the doorbell rings just as you’re putting the final touches on dinner. Charles bounds over to answer it, Leo hot on his heels.

“Oscar! Ollie! Good, you’re both here.” Charles’ voice carries easily through the apartment.

You poke your head out of the kitchen, oven mitts still on. “Is that our other son I hear?”

“The one and only!” Ollie Bearman strolls in behind Oscar, looking completely at ease.

Oscar raises an eyebrow at the younger driver. “Why is nobody surprised you’re here?”

Ollie shrugs nonchalantly. “Teen pregnancy?”

You let out an undignified snort of laughter as Oscar gapes at him. “Don’t look at me, Charles carried you for nine months himself.”

“What?” Ollie whips his head around to stare at Charles in abject horror.

Charles just grins, slinging an arm around each of their shoulders. “You heard the woman. My body is a wonderland.”

“Oh my god.” Oscar buries his face in his hands as you dissolve into peals of laughter. “Why are you like this?”

“Because it’s fun to watch you squirm,” Charles replies cheerfully.

You wipe tears from your eyes as you head back into the kitchen. “Dinner’s just about ready, come grab a plate! Oh, and pray you don’t get food poisoning.”

Soon you’re all settled around the balcony table, tucking into plates piled high with food. Ollie kicks things off by turning to you with a smile.

“This is amazing, thanks for cooking!”

“Don’t thank me, it was all Charles this time,” you say, gesturing to your husband sitting across from you.

Ollie’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You cooked all this? Damn, maybe having you as a dad won’t be so bad after all.”

Charles throws his hands up in mock offense. “Hey! I’ll have you know I’m an excellent father.”

“If you say so.” Ollie smirks, shoveling another forkful of pasta into his mouth.

Oscar just shakes his head in amazement. “I still can’t believe you actually went through with adopting us.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Charles leans back in his chair, casual as can be. “You’re both great kids. Perfect sons.”

“Even if we didn’t ask for it?” Ollie points out around a mouthful of food.

You tsk disapprovingly. “Mind your manners, young man.”

Ollie’s eyes go comically wide and he quickly swallows his bite. “Sorry, mum.”

That sets you and Oscar off into another round of laughter. Even Leo gets in on the action, letting out a little bark from where he’s curled up nearby. Charles watches the scene with fondness.

“See, you’re already fitting right in,” he says warmly once the laughter subsides. “My two idiot sons.”

Ollie opens his mouth to retort but you cut him off, leaning across the table to affectionately pat his hand.

“Don’t listen to your father, Ollie. We’re happy to have you both here.” You shoot Oscar a wink. “Even if you did get adopted under … unusual circumstances.”

“You can say that again,” Oscar mutters, but he’s smiling.

Over the course of the evening, you take great delight in watching Charles easily slip into the role of devoted dad. He makes terrible jokes and embarrassing comments at every turn, clearly intent on annoying his new children as much as humanly possible. Yet it’s impossible to miss the deep well of affection beneath his teasing words and actions.

For their part, Oscar and Ollie play along enthusiastically. They roll their eyes and groan as if put-upon, but you can see the sparkle of happiness and contentment in their eyes as the night wears on. An easy camaraderie develops between the trio, fueled by plenty of back-and-forth needling and good-natured ribbing.

You sit back and watch it all with a permanent smile etched on your face. Your strange little family just keeps growing, and you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

At one point, you excuse yourself to use the restroom. When you return, the three of them have their heads bent together conspiratorially, hastily falling silent when you reappear.

“What’s this?” You raise an eyebrow as you retake your seat. “Am I being left out of the loop here?”

Oscar shares a look with Charles before turning to you with a sly grin. “We were just thinking ...”

“This family isn’t quite complete yet,” Ollie picks up easily.

You glance between them, utterly perplexed. “What are you two on about?”

Rather than answer, Charles pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. A few moments later, your own phone buzzes with a Twitter notification — a new tweet from your husband.

Your jaw drops as you read the words over and over. “Charles! You can’t be serious!”

“Why not?” He shoots you an impish grin, clearly reveling in your stunned reaction. “Kimi’s a good kid, he’d make an excellent addition to the family.”

“I … you ...” You sputter, completely at a loss for words.

Oscar and Ollie watch the exchange with matching looks of unrestrained glee. Ollie raises his glass in a mock toast.

“To Mum and Dad, the most extra parents on the grid!”

You shake your head in bewildered amusement as they all crack up. This family just gets more ridiculous by the day.

A short while later, Kimi responds to Charles’ tweet.

The notification sets off another round of laughter and delighted hollering from the three drivers. You hide your face in your hands, torn between mortification and hysterical giggles.

“I can’t take you three anywhere,” you mutter, though you’re smiling so hard your cheeks hurt.

A warm arm wraps around your shoulders as Charles leans over to press a smiling kiss to your temple. “But you love us anyway.”

You catch his gaze, momentarily speechless by the contentment shining in his eyes. For all the silliness and absurdity, it’s clear just how much this strange little family truly means to him.

Swallowing past the sudden lump in your throat, you reach up to cup his cheek tenderly. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He beams at you, pure adoration written across his features. Then the moment is broken as an Italian-accented voice rings out from the hallway.

“Hey, did someone call for a new son?”

Oscar, Ollie, and Charles practically tumble over each other in their haste to greet the newcomer. You hang back, taking a moment to catch your breath as you watch the now quartet bound back onto the balcony, a fresh wave of chaos and noise in their wake.

One thing’s for certain — life is never going to be boring with this group around. You shake your head with a soft chuckle, heading back to join your one-of-a-kind family.

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iamasaddie · 2 days

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tired

paring: Joel Miller x f!reader rating: explicit warnings: explicit sexual content, unspecified age gap, reader has hair that you can run your fingers through, no use of Y/N, UNEDITED a/n: fully inspired by this post @bonezone44 dared to put out so i thank them for basically punching me out of the no-writing period of my life <3 and also thank you to people who've been tagging me in multiple wip challenges and fic games, especially @milla-frenchy and @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog <3 you reminded me that i was indeed an author a million years ago word count: 2.6k masterlist

Joel was tired. His back was hurting from helping Tommy fix up his roof, his knees were aching from climbing up and down that goddamn ladder that he could swore was ready to break at any second. He couldn’t remember the last time he had a night where he could just relax. Throw his body somewhere in his house and have someone take care of it.

Now that Ellie was building her adult life with Dina, their place - his place - now felt like just a roof over his head, all the homeyness gone with the girl that almost single-handedly owned his sharp and rusty heart.

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, dry fingertips running over the lids. He did not want to go home and fall asleep on the couch, cursing everything the world stands on the next morning when he needs to fight the tears of pain with every back spasm he gets. No, he needed someone to take care of him, to give him something good, god knows he’s given these people more than enough over these past years. But, Joel sighed to himself, scrunching his nose as his eyes fell on the dirty knees of his jeans, he was not in shape of wining and dining women tonight.

That’s what you need casual connections for, old idiot, he chuckled to himself, remembering a few times he had to spell it out for some ladies that he wasn’t interested.

You practically jumped on a stool next to him while he was still considering his options.

“Hey, Joel, long night?”

Of course you’d be the first to ask about his day. Little miss sunshine. Well, at least that’s what he thought at first, before seeing you mercilessly killing a couple of infected villagers that weren’t careful enough on the patrol. Still, you were as syrupy sweet as honey on a fresh batch of pancakes when it came to him. The only one who didn’t cringe when he said his firm “no, thanks”. The only one who didn’t actually take his no for an answer.

You never actually threw yourself at him, but Joel learned what desire looks like and you were too young to learn how to mask it properly.

“Hey, kid.” He nodded, he knew how much you hated the nickname because it put even a bigger barrier between the two of you.

“Told you not to call me that, I’m only—“

“Twenty something years younger than me? Yeah.”

He saw your lips hiding in a thin line, your unbreakable spirit was too fragile when it came to him. Joel must’ve gone soft, or insane, because he nudged your shoulder with his, making you lift your head up and look him in the eyes.

“Tommy’s roof’s been a pain in the ass to fix. It’d be easier to burn that place down and build a new one, but my brother is as stubborn as them mules he’s been dreaming to have.”

You huffed a laugh, palm squeezing the slippery glass that was now empty a little too hard. “You know,” you started, shyness verging with hope that you tried to sheath with a nonchalant tone. Joel knew. And for the first time in years he actually contemplated, nodding to you to continue. “I could help you relax, I sometimes give massages in the hospital. It can really help with back pain.”

He purposefully kept silent, looking you in the eyes and trying to make you go back on your proposal. But as he knew already, you were no less stubborn than his little brother. It was karma or something that the only people that were semi-constant in his life were the ones who’d rather kiss an infected than give up.

Joel wasn’t exactly tortured with his conscience, he didn’t seduce you, and most of the old world morals have died already, so the age gap the size of an adult child didn’t bother him either. He was almost glad you tried again, he just needs to make sure you know it’s not something it isn’t.

“Yeah, my back’s been hurtin’ pretty bad today.” He finished his drink not tearing his eyes off you, and then he slowly let them trace your lips, the naked expanse of your neck that you showed off by unbuttoning a couple of buttons on your shirt. He looked lower, noticing your breasts rise and fall faster under his unmasked gaze.

“Wanna go now?” Your voice was breathless like you’d just ran a marathon. He wondered how you’d sound later tonight.

“Sure, darlin’. Lead the way.”

You never said anything when Joel strode past the hospital shack, not even slowing his pace. He was saying something about the roof again but it was hard to understand through the blood pumping jungle beats in your ears.

You kept nodding and humming in agreement, though you couldn’t quite process the words. As you followed him, the anticipation gnawed at you, every step closer tightening the knot in your stomach. You knew he was taking you home, well, he was taking you to his house, and you went too slow for the amount of times that you dreamed to step over his doorstep. Joel's house was small and dimly lit, for some reason it was exactly how you imagined it: homey in spite of the circumstances. Joel took off his jacket silently, the faint smell of cedar and something musky filled the air, mingling with his earthy scent. He turned to face you, those piercing eyes locking onto yours.

“You gonna give me a massage wearing this?” He pointed at the warm coat you put on in a hurry as you were leaving the bar. Your fingers stumbled over each other as you tried to open the buttons of the damn thing. You felt a flush of warmth rise to your cheeks under his scrutiny.

Your fingers touched as you gave him your coat, but there was no electricity, his fingers were rough and scratched your skin, your palm became sweaty and you hurried to wipe it on your jeans when he didn’t look.

“Let’s go, bedroom’s upstairs,” his voice was low and calm, somehow its vibrations helped you settle, grounded you. You gave him a quick smile and followed his broad figure. Every stair squeaked under his heavy footsteps, you looked like a mouse that was chasing a bear. Willingly. The bedroom door creaked open to reveal a space just as humble as the rest of the house. A couple of drawings in handmade frames, a chair with a pair of pants on it, and the bed. Your eyes were glued to it. The bed and its tangled sheets seemed inviting, though a wave of nerves prickled your spine. ‘You’re here to give him a massage, don’t get ahead of yourself’ you thought, teeth sinking in your lower lip. You weren’t too young or naive to think that a massage was all this night would end with, but such a quick change of heart in Joel made you doubt your every breath.

When you brought your eyes back to the man you saw him studying you, you could swear a nervous tick clenched his jaw but you didn’t let yourself ponder on it.

“I’m gonna rip the bandaid off and say it as it is, okay, pretty girl?”

Your breath hitched. Joel stepped closer, his eyes steadily holding yours. You nodded, not trusting your voice. His gaze was intense, making your heart hammer loudly enough to be heard.

"Massage ain’t exactly the thing I took ya here for,” Joel admitted, eyes dark, voice raw with honesty. “If you catch my drift.”

“I…” You cleared your throat, you wanted to look confident, or at least not scared. You’ve wanted to get into this man’s bed for months now, imagined how and when and what, and now that it happens you can barely squeeze out a, “yeah, of course I do.”

Joel smiled, one of his hands flying to cup your jaw as he brought his lips closer to yours and you closed your eyes in anticipation of his soft skin on yours. “Good girl,” the remnants of his wet breath stained your lips.

As quickly as he came at you, he left. His pace was languid when he worked on taking off his jeans, leaving himself in a ridiculous attire of a flannel shirt, a t-shirt underneath and simple cotton boxers.

You bit your lip, suppressing a giggle at the sight. His eyes snagged on your smile, sharpening with mischief. Joel raised an eyebrow, catching your amusement. “What’s so funny, darlin’?”

“Nothing,” your cheeks felt extra hot and you were glad for the poor lighting in the bedroom. “Lay on your back, please. As I said before, I’d like to help you relax.”

Joel held your gaze for a hot minute, but then silently followed your order. “I’d maybe argue any other day, but not now, sweetheart. Today I’ll take all the care I can get,” he smiled, but you missed the warm gesture. He laid back, his head hitting the pillow, long curls that he had left to grow splayed around the back of his head. You were too focused, letting your hands wander over his chest, feeling the texture of his shirt and the years of safer life that he was hiding underneath had grown out brushing against the fabric. You moved your fingers lightly over his chest, watching his eyes flutter closed.

His hands blindly found yours, hardened blisters of his palms scraped your soft skin, and he pushed your hands lower, somewhere you didn’t dare look for too long.

“Don’t be shy, babygirl,” he muttered with his eyes still closed. You let him guide you. You could feel the tension in his muscles, the rigidity slowly melting away under your touch.

You remembered him talking about ripping a bandage off, so you followed his philosophy, hooking your fingers under the elastic of his boxers and tugging the material down. As the cool air grazed his skin, he released a slow, shuddering breath. It felt like something forced you to lift your head up, you met his gaze and saw a flicker of softness and gratefulness in his eyes.

“This okay?” You whispered, hands already exploring the places your eyes were too shy to inspect.

“More than,” Joel’s voice was calm, breathing barely indicating the intimate setting you were in. His eyes fell shut again and a part of you thought that was only to give you more freedom, save you from his scrutiny. You noticed the slight hitch in his breath with each new touch, his body responding to your feathery strokes.

When your fingertips grazed the hot skin covered in coarse hair you couldn’t help but look. Even in half darkness it was easy to see that Joel was well-endowed and eager. His cock laid on the pillow of his pubic hair, the shaft slightly curved. Pink tip was glistening with precum and you wondered if you got him excited or the promise of future pleasure. Your left hand was resting on his hip when as if hypnotized you traced your index finger from his tip to where his base was covered in sparse graying curls.

Joel’s cock jumped to attention, twitching under your light touch, prompting you to close your fist around it which you immediately did. With the first tug on the velvety soft skin both of you released a moan.

“Spit on it, baby, make it wet,” Joel’s voice was relaxed, as if you put your hand on a muscle that was aching for days and relieved the pain.

Your short nails dug into his hip when you started contemplating how to do it. You weren’t completely innocent, far from it, but somehow you could count on the fingers of one hand the amount of times you needed to spit during sex. Deciding against spitting in your own palm, you took a different position, scooting lower down the bed and hunching over Joel’s waiting cock. The moment the smell of his skin and sweat hit your nose it was like you were intoxicated. Your lips closed around his flushed tip, tongue diving to get more of his taste. Both of your hands settled on his hips, either to hold him down or find balance. You abandoned the idea of spitting, the thought of not having his cock in your mouth almost pained you. It was like this was the grand finale of your romantic labor. Here, on your knees between the legs of a man who was holding you at arm's length for the longest time. It shouldn’t have felt so good, but it did. Taking care of him, even in this basic, primal way, felt like taking care of yourself.

Your wet mouth slid further down, the thick shaft of Joel’s cock stretching your lips. It took you a moment to realize Joel’s hands were in your hair. For a moment you thought he wanted you to stop, you even started to lift off, but the firm pressure of his hand on your head made it clear that he wasn’t against this turn of events. You let yourself build up to a comfortable taste, exploring each centimeter of his skin in your mouth, the way a couple of veins bulged under your tongue, the ridge of the head pushing further in your throat. You didn’t hurry and neither did he. You savored the slow rhythm of push and pull, letting him go deeper with every thrust.

One of his hands left your head and you raised your eyes to Joel’s face, mouth still very occupied with his cock. He must have felt it, because he barely lifted his head off the pillow, stray curls sticking to his sweaty forehead and you could swear you saw him wink at you before he laid his head back, using the freed hand to tuck away long strands of hair behind his ear.

The picture of this man, always so rough and guarded, finally relaxing under your touch and shedding the years of hostility made you drunker than any booze Tommy could’ve offered. Your movements became faster, saliva dripping down his cock and making it glisten. You felt Joel’s hips tense under your palms and you didn’t even need to hear the shameless moans drowned by your excitement and the sloppy wet sounds to know he was close.

“Doin’ good for me, baby, doin’ real good,” he groaned as you felt the tip of his cock punch the back of your throat repeatedly. Your eyes watered, but you admitted to yourself that you would rather suffocate and die than let the cock of this man out of your mouth. Your jaw was aching, the pleasurable pain that said how good of a job you did.

The shaft under your tongue felt even harder, a loaded gun pressing on your tongue and you couldn’t wait for it to shoot.

Both of Joel’s hands returned to your head pressing you into his skin so hard that little hairs tickled your nose and your vision started to go blurry.

His load was salty and thick, you felt it slide down your throat like lava, burning you from the inside. Barely catching your breath you sat straight, watching closely how Joel’s chest rose and fell following his erratic breathing. There was an indecent amount of wetness gathered in the gusset of your panties and by the look on Joel’s face you knew you’d have to handle it yourself.

“Feeling good?” Your voice sounded weird, hoarse and raspy in the gritty silence of the room.

“You’re really good at massage, darlin’, I’m more relaxed than the day I was born,” Joel held his gaze on you, using his shoulder to scratch the underside of his jaw. You took it as your key to leave, after all, you never agreed to anything more.

Joel’s voice stopped you with one foot over the doorstep.

“Maybe I could return the favor some time.”

#iamasaddie fic #joel miller x reader #Joel miller x f!reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you

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heartfullofleeches · 2 days

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Consider, male secretary darling, summoned by accident to work in an office of demons ☝️🤑

Male secretary darling who starts off his new career as a jobless nobody down on his luck searching for whatever opportunity is handed to him. The ad that popped up in his email said it was a janitorial position. Pay was pretty decent too- Not much information beyond that and a phone number, but he's sure the finer details will be laid out once he makes the call.

"Jan-it-or? Ohhhh, yea we just put whatever on those ads so people will answer. You'd be surprised by how quickly your kind try to quit. What you'll be doing is far easier than whatever that is!"

"What is the job then?"

"Well, you already seem good at talking over the phone. Do you think you can manage a coffee machine?"

"I guess."

"And do you think you would good in a skirt?"

"....I guess?"

"Perfect! Then your employment begins....immediately. Happy to have you apart of the team!"

That was weird- Darling goes to hang up his phone only to find the four corners of his bedroom morphed into the walls of an office lobby. Fright and panic ensues, intensified by the unholy beasts sitting on either side of him. What appears to be a woman missing the top part of her head applies another coat of lipstick to her plump lips on his right- a lanky figure wrapped in medical bandages rehearsing its resume to a decapitated head in its many hands on his left-

This is all a dream?

" 'fraid not, fresh meat. You are one of few mortals to have the privilege to work here at our lucrative place of business. Us demons need some way to manage all the work we do up top with your kind. Our glorious boss came up with the idea for our company eons ago- Modern times call for modern changes and all that."

"Can. Can you explain the reason by the skirt thing you asked me about?"

"Company policy. Best to leave it at that."

The higher ups take an immediate liking to their new toy. For one thing, the fear wears off after his second day on the job. He really needs the money after and they can't be that much worse than his old colleagues. An additional bonus is how well he wears that skirt of his. The way it clings to his figure, how it rides up his thigh when he picks up something a coworker "accidentally" dropped on the floor. A soul with a body that appetizing was ripe for the picking-unfortunately company policy forbid them from striking a deal with their favorite mortal. Hardly any of them want to get rid of Darling with how willing to please he is- doing everything he can to fulfill their needs in a professional sense. If only that meant joining them or a date or allowing those with tails to sneak the appendage beneath his skirt during office hours.

Even the big boss himself has a soft spot for the new secretary- Dialing back his authoritive demeanor in favor of greeting the human with the gentleness he deserves.

(I'm rocking with this, y'all want more?)

#yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere scenarios #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere demon #yandere harem #secretary reader

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arieslost · 1 day

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reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who ‘accidentally’ slips up and mentions it

i’m assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct 🤞🏼🤞🏼

crush | cl16

you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way he’d always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.

not that he had much choice, considering you’d been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.

it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.

wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.

which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography… the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when you’re given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.

except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.

that’s how your suspicions had started— when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt “i have to go” in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still don’t.

“good morning, querida,” carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charles’ brows furrow for a split second.

“good morning,” you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whatever’s on his phone. “there’s a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.”

you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.

you’ve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didn’t want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.

“okay, i think that’s all i have for—” you’re not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty “thanks” and rushing out the door.

“you’d think he would’ve caved and told you by now,” carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.

“told me what?”

“you know,” carlos begins, rising from his seat, “that he’s madly in love with you.”

“what?!” you exclaim.

“oh, dear,” he continues dryly. “did i say that out loud?”

“carlos sainz, so help me—”

“you’ll have to excuse me, i don’t want to be late to the media pen,” he interrupts, making to leave as well. “i suggest confronting him, that’s probably the only way to get him to talk.”

your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as he’s leaving his driver room.

“is it true? do you—” you want to say love me, but the words just won’t come out. they feel too intimate. “do you have feelings for me, charles?”

he opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. “you won’t look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you,” he says immediately. “not at all— why don’t you come in so we can talk? i don’t want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.”

fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.

“who told you?” he asks.

“carlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.”

“classic carlos,” charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.

“is it true?” you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.

he looks at you. “what if it was?”

“charles—”

he interrupts you now. “i can’t look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just haven’t been the same since… since papa.”

you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.

“and eventually i just couldn’t talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out… like it is right now,” he smiles shyly.

you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.

“anyway, i like you. a lot.” he declares, taking on a confident tone. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while, and i’m sorry that it manifested as something else. i don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“maybe…” you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. “maybe you could take me out.”

he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. “i think i can make that happen.”

“good. i’ll be waiting for your call.” you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.

the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it won’t be the last time you see him that way.

word count: 1,041

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops it’s fully my fault

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e @watersquirtpewpewboomm

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ataliagold · 2 days

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you told me once that i'm selfish (and i kissed you hard, in the dark)

For @astrangersummer week 4 prompt 'outside'. Title from Letter to an Old Poet by boygenius.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson

Rating: General

W/C: 1430

Tags: Established Steddie, minor angst, fluff, hand-holding, Steve just wants to go hiking but Eddie's not keen on the idea, until he is, despite a minor argument these boys are so soft for each other, slightly selfish Eddie but he apologizes, Eddie gets a cool stick

Summary: Steve is used to spending time doing what Eddie wants to do. On a hot summer afternoon, the tables are turned when Steve asks Eddie to go hiking with him and Eddie is...not so thrilled about it.

___

“A hike?”

“Yup.”

“You want to go…hiking?”

“Uh huh.”

“You want me to go hiking with you?”

“Yes, Eddie.”

“…I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“Why not?”

“Well, we could do…something else. Go to the arcade! Catch a movie, get drunk by your pool…I can come up with many alternatives to hiking, big boy.”

“I want to go, it’s one I used to do often years ago. It’ll be fun, just try it. It’s summer, we should get outdoors, enjoy the sun.”

“I’m not really an outdoors kinda guy, Steve. I thought you knew that by now.”

Steve’s shoulders had slumped a little at that. He’d watched as Eddie screwed up his nose at Steve’s suggestion, as he shook his head vehemently, as he rolled his eyes a little at Steve’s insistence that it would be a nice way to spend their Sunday.

Eddie didn’t want to go. That was ok; Steve wouldn’t make him. It had been stupid to even ask him in the first place, he supposed – Eddie was right, it really wasn’t his sort of thing.

Except…Steve had spent long evenings watching Eddie and the kids playing their campaigns, had listened as best he could as Eddie rattled off ideas and suggestions to him for the next D&D session, had sat through the frankly terrible horror movies that Eddie was rapt with, always let him play his music in the car, shrugged it off good-naturedly when Eddie complained about his taste in music…

Steve been hoping maybe Eddie would try something that he enjoyed, just for a day.

He knew Eddie hated sport and practically any form of intentional exercise; hell, his boyfriend reminded him of that frequently, grumbling when Steve and Wayne were glued to a game on TV or when Steve was busy shooting hoops with Lucas. Usually, Steve didn’t care – he knew they had different interests, loved Eddie enough that it didn’t matter.

But sometimes, Eddie’s jibes about him being a jock or a philistine or uncultured just…stung a little, especially considering Steve never bit back with his own insults, had left those days long behind him.

“Yeah, ok,” Steve mumbled eventually. “I’ll just…I’ll ask Lucas or something.”

Eddie shook his head. “He’s at Mike’s this weekend.”

“Oh. Well…never mind, then.”

Eddie sat up, grabbing for Steve’s hand. Steve let him take it, but with little enthusiasm.

“We can do something else, though,” Eddie said brightly. “Wanna rent a couple of movies, get high? I’ve still got some of Argyle’s stuff left, we could…Steve?”

Steve’s hand had gone weak in Eddie’s, his gaze drifting downwards. “Hmm?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Eddie shuffled closer, tilted his head to try and catch Steve’s eye. “Steeeeevie,” he hummed.

“What?” Steve said, snapping a little.

Eddie recoiled slightly. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

Steve snatched his hand back, pushing off Eddie’s couch to stand up. “Nothing, it’s fine. I’m gonna go for this hike, I’ll see you later.”

Eddie frowned, hopping up to block Steve’s path. “On your own?” he questioned.

“Well, you clearly don’t want to go, so…”

Eddie’s face softened. “Steve -”

“No, it’s fine. You hate the outdoors, you hate exercise, you hate…” Steve trailed off.

Eddie reached out, traced a hand across Steve’s cheek. “What, sweetheart?”

Steve sucked in a breath. “You hate everything I like,” he mumbled, not meeting Eddie’s eye.

Eddie’s eyes widened, realization crossing his face. “Stevie…I…I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you wanted to go so badly. Let me just…I’ll get changed, and we’ll go, ok?”

“No, you don’t want to.”

“I do.”

Steve scoffed. “You don’t.”

Eddie nodded slightly, chewed his bottom lip for a moment. “I didn’t want to,” he admitted eventually. “But…you do things you don’t want to do for me all the time, and I know I’m not…as good at doing that as you are. So, the afternoon is yours. You want to hike? We’ll hike. I can’t promise I won’t pass out halfway, but I’ll be there.”

Steve gave him a long look. “You’re sure? And you won’t complain?”

“Well…maybe a little.”

Steve rolled his eyes, waving a hand in frustration.

“Ok!” Eddie back-peddled. “Ok, I won’t. Just…I have one request.”

“What?”

“I want to carry a cool stick.”

*****

Eddie got his stick.

Steve led them on the wooded path that branched off from Lover’s Lake, that looped its way slowly up a hill to a lookout spot over the forest. Eddie traipsed along behind him, swatting at invisible orcs with his stick, occasionally skipping off to one side to pick up and present Steve with various stones and small rocks he found along the way, the ones he deemed pretty enough to gift to him.

Halfway up, despite sweating and breathing a little harder than he should be, (smoker’s lungs, he’d given Steve as an excuse) Eddie seemed to putting in a lot of effort for Steve.

“This is…kinda cool,” he admitted.

“Really?” Steve raised an eyebrow at his boyfriend.

Eddie nodded, whacked at a bush with his stick and grinned. “Yeah. At least it’s shady here too, it’s not so fucking hot.”

Steve smiled. “Told ya. Wait till we get to the top, too. I think you’ll like the view.”

“About that…how much steeper does it get?”

A short time later, and only one little moan from Eddie about the hill, and they broke through the trees and onto a rocky outcrop with a little bench seat. The trees sprawled out below them, shades of brown and burnt orange, Hawkins nestled off to one side.

“Wow,” Eddie breathed, bent over next to Steve with his hands on his knees as he got his breath back.

Steve, not puffed in the least, nodded in agreement. “It’s nice, huh?”

“It’s like…Lothlorien.”

“…sure,” Steve offered, having no idea what his boyfriend was talking about.

Eddie slumped down on the bench seat, fingers tracing over the initials carved everywhere into the old wood.

“You on here, Stevie?” he asked.

Steve nodded, dropping to his knees and searching the edge of the seat for a moment. There, etched permanently into the wood, were the weathered initials S.H.

“Here,” he said.

Eddie smiled, touched his fingers to the marks. Quietly, he scratched his own into the wood with a sharp stick, right next to Steve’s initials.

“Looks good,” Steve observed.

Eddie looked up at him, took his hand. “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…not taking enough interest in the things you like.”

Steve sighed, sat down beside him. “You don’t have to, Eds. I know you don’t like a lot of the things I do, it’s -”

“Don’t say it’s ok,” Eddie interrupted, holding his hand tighter. “I mean, maybe I don’t like sport and stuff. But you don’t like D&D, and I know you hate horror movies, but you don’t complain about it, and you always come along even if you don’t enjoy something.”

“I…I like spending time with you,” Steve said quietly.

“I know, and I love you for it.” Eddie’s free hand gripped the edge of the seat. “And…and I like spending time with you too, and I want to be able to do some things that you enjoy too, it’s only fair.”

“Well…did you enjoy this?” Steve asked, almost shyly.

Eddie nodded. “Yeah, actually. Nearly had a heart attack near the top there, but aside from that…” he grinned as he pulled a small laugh from Steve. “I’d like to go again. Wherever you want to go, I’ll be there.”

“I’d like that, Eds.”

“Good.” Eddie dug around in his pocket for a moment, producing a smooth black stone and plopping it into Steve’s hand. “For you,” he said, smiling when Steve turned it over in his fingers.

“It’s cool, Eds. Thanks.”

Eddie’s smile was wider than the sun.

He leant in, kissed Steve long and slow under the fading July sun.

By the time they reached the car again, Steve’s pockets were laden with little stones that had caught Eddie’s eye along the path. Despite them weighing down his shorts, he couldn’t bear to toss any of them away – he’d find somewhere to put them in their room.

As Steve started the beamer, he was surprised to see Eddie eject the Metallica tape in the player and replace it with Steve’s well-loved Tears for Fears one.

He threw a surprised look at Eddie, who shrugged in return.

“It’s well overdue for your turn, sweetheart,” he murmured softly.

As the familiar notes of Head Over Heels spilled over them, Steve reached for Eddie��s hand.

He didn’t let go the whole way home.

___

#a stranger summer #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington/eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steve x eddie #fluff

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angel5ofp0rn · 1 day

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part ten 😋

ExHusband!Price x f!reader

@rosiesghost we were totally on the same page with John and Nadia 🤭

“So, why did the two of you split up? John found someone younger?”

You nearly choke on your water, caught off guard by Nadia’s bluntness.

“Just teasing.” Nadia chuckles softly, taking another sip of her wine. “Younger than you? He’d ‘ave to rob a cradle.”

From the patio, the two of you watched John and the three children kick a football around in the backyard.

Your youngest struggled to keep up due to her age and size. John was quick to help by lifting her from under her armpits, helping her get a good kick in.

“Actually, it was you," you confess, a slight blush creeping up your cheeks. Nadia looks at you curiously.

"He wouldn't tell me where he was going when he would come here to visit you and Theo. I thought he was cheating."

Nadia almost frowns a bit, looking back to John and the kids. “And now that you know the truth?”

You sigh softly. “I don’t know… I still can’t move past you. I can’t stop thinking about John cheating on you, and abandoning you and Theo.”

“I told him to leave.”

“You… what?”

Nadia sets her wine glass down on the table between the two of you. “John and I… We weren’t in love, you see.” She starts carefully. “We just had a drunken one night stand, and I fell pregnant with Theo… John proposed just to do the right thing, but it wasn’t what either one of us wanted.”

You sit quietly, absorbing her words. The revelation leaves you stunned. You had no idea...

"We were unhappy for a long time," Nadia continues, her gaze distant as if reliving those moments. "We talked about seeing other people for a while, but John said he couldn't bring himself to do it. Even though there were no feelings between us, he couldn't date around while married. And then he met you."

Nadia smiles to herself as she explains the situation to you. You glance over at John, memories of your first meeting flooding back. John kept insisting that he wasn’t right for you, that you should just forget about him.

Now it makes sense.

Unaware of your eyes on him, John uses the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face. You get a glimpse of his toned, hairy abdomen and that hint of a v-line that still lingers despite him getting softer with age.

“Can’t deny that he’s sexy, though.” Nadia murmurs, a low whistle escaping her lips.

You chuckle and nod in agreement.

The conversation lulls for a moment, both of you lost in your thoughts. The children’s laughter echoes from the yard, and you see Theo twirl your youngest around, her giggles filling the air.

"Do you ever regret it?" you ask quietly. "Leaving him, I mean."

Nadia pauses, considering your question.

"Sometimes. Not because there’s any feelings,” She explains briefly. “He was a good husband, though, and he’s a good father... But I know it was the right thing to do. We deserved to be happy, and so did Theo. And you deserve that, too."

You take a deep breath, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. “You’re right.”

“I have a couple pregnancy tests under the sink in my bathroom.” Nadia mentions casually.

“I’m sorry?” You look at her incredulously.

Nadia gestures to your glass of water, with her wine glass.

•••

The drive back to the rental for your last night before heading back to the states is quiet. The soft hum of the engine and the rhythmic sound of the tires on the road are the only sounds filling the car.

The children, exhausted from their last day with their big brother, are fast asleep in the back seat. Their heads bob slightly with each turn, tiny bodies relaxed in the safety of the car.

You glance over at John, his profile illuminated by the passing streetlights. He looks deep in thought, one hand on the steering wheel and the other resting casually on his knee.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you gather your courage. "Nadia told me about your marriage to her... how it really was."

John's grip on the steering wheel tightens slightly, but he keeps his gaze on the road. "Yeah? What’d she say?

“She told me about how the two of you weren’t really together… just married for Theo’s sake.”

John nods, still watching the road.

“I wish you would have just told me.” You sigh. “I wish you would have trusted me with the truth. Trusted that I wouldn’t have judged you for that.”

“It wasn’t about trust,” John explains. “I just… I wanted our relationship to be about us, our future, not my past.”

You stare at John, frustration starting to resurface. "There is no future without a past, John. You can't just compartmentalize parts of your life and expect it not to affect everything else."

John glances at you, his expression conflicted as he rubs a hand over his mouth and beard. "I know. I fucked up, alright? I was scared. Scared that you'd see me differently, that you'd think less of me."

"John, I already see you differently because of the lies," you say softly, your voice trembling.

The silence in the car is heavy, the air thick with unspoken emotions. You can feel the distance between you widening, even as you sit mere inches apart.

John finally breaks the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I really am. I never meant to hurt you.”

You close your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. "I know you didn't. But it doesn't change the fact that you did."

John pulls into the driveway and parks the car. He turns to you, his blue eyes filled with regret. "I haven’t cheated. I haven’t abandoned my family. Yes, I hid things from you but I came clean.” John takes a deep breath. “How do we fix this?“

“I can’t talk about this right now.” You shake your head, turning to open the passenger door.

John stops you, his hand grabbing yours.

“We made a promise to each other to talk everything out, not fight.” John’s voice was stern as he locked eyes with you. “If you’re going to just walk away again… I’m going to take that as you wanting to end things for good.”

You turn to look at the children, still peacefully asleep in the back seat. The sight of them, so innocent and unaware of the turmoil around them.

"I want to fix this," you say quietly, turning back to John. “I want us to be together again, but-“

“Then we’ll be together again.” John insists.

“It’s not that simple…” You nearly whisper.

“It’s always been that simple with us.” The corners of John’s mouth twitch into a smile. “You found me at a bar and decided we’d be together. I took you on our first date and decided to make you my wife just a year later… It can be that simple. Just say the word, lovey, and I’m yours.”

You study John’s face for a moment. Everything he said is true, whether you want to believe it or not.

“I want us to be together again.” You confirm.

“You mean that?” John’s grin widens, his grip on your hand tightening slightly.

You nod, your own smile growing.

John moved to cup your face, leaning closer to plant a kiss to your lips, but you pull back.

“Wait- Before we get too far, have my own secret that I need to confess.”

John’s eyes flicker between yours, his expression shifting from elated to confused.

You reach into your bag and pull out a little blue-and-white box and hand it to him.

John studies it, then looks up to you.

“Y’r fuckin’ with me.” He mutters, eyes practically twinkling.

“You didn’t even look at it yet.” You roll your eyes playfully.

John tilts the box to the side, letting the pregnancy test slide out and fall into his hand.

It’s positive.

“When did you take this? How long have you known?”

“I’ve had a feeling for a while… I took the test at Nadia’s.” You blush.

John tosses the test to the floor of the car and cups your face again, peppering you with kiss after kiss, murmuring a few I love you’s against your lips.

Your oldest, pretending to still be asleep, opens just one of his blue eyes and peeks at his parents giggling and kissing in the front seat.

He reaches his little arm out to gently shake your youngest awake.

“Kissies.” Your oldest whispers, pointing a finger to the front seat.

Your youngest’s little hands fly to cover her mouth, muffling an excited squeal.

<< prev next >>

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motomamita · 1 day

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singledad!eddie × female!reader

warnings: smut, +18, breeding kink, no condom, use of alcohol, dub-con!!

Singledad!Eddie who tries his best to be a good single dad. He takes his little baby to his job at the record store, where he spends several hours a day to earn a salary high enough to buy diapers and powdered milk.

Until one afternoon you saw him in the trailer park with his baby and you couldn't help but come over to admire the little girl. You bent down to pick it up, neglecting yourself and quickly flashing your boobs at Eddie, who from that moment on didn't stop thinking about you.

You kindly offered to take care of his baby on the afternoons when Eddie worked overtime at work. You really loved babies and you imagined that Eddie was really exhausted considering he was a single father. At first he denied, not wanting to take advantage of your good intentions, but when you insisted that it wasn't a problem while looking at him with your bright eyes, he couldn't help but say yes.

After work, Eddie would knock on the door of your trailer to look for his little baby who was babbling with excitement when she saw him and you couldn't stop telling him how well she had behaved. As the days went by, you invited him into your trailer and served him a nice plate of warm food for dinner while you fed his baby with a warm feeding bottle. That drove Eddie even more crazy, who began to fantasize about the idea of having a small family with you and that it would become a routine. For that, he had to get you pregnant.

From then on, Eddie took advantage of every slightest excuse to see you and have you close to him. Did he need help putting his baby on a diaper? He was knocking on your door. Did he need help making a bottle of warm milk? He was knocking on your door. Did he need help giving his baby a cute hairstyle? He was knocking on your door.

Until one night, his baby wouldn't stop crying and he went straight to look for you.

"Little Lily doesn't want to go to sleep.." He explained, holding the little baby who couldn't stop crying while you entered his trailer. "I already gave her a bottle and even changed her diapers but I don't know what's going on!" He explained with exaggerated concern.

Your heart clenched as you heard the girl crying and how tired Eddie looked. "Oh! Poor little girl!" You murmured, approaching them and rubbing the little girl's back. "Do you have her pacifier handy?" you asked looking around his trailer.

"It is in her crib." He spoke remembering where he had left it.

You grabbed the little baby who rushed towards you, used to your scent and your secure hold. Eddie walked to the end of his trailer and you followed behind him, even with Lily crying intensely. The room was divided with pastel colors and bright toys on one side (obviously the baby's side), and a darker setting with rock posters on the other (Eddie's side).

"Here it is!" He exclaimed, approaching you and delicately placing the pacifier in the girl's mouth. Lily immediately stopped crying and began to suck on the light pink pacifier.

"That was what she needed" You smiled as you wiped the little girl's tears with one of your hands.

You both left the girl in the crib and half closed the door in case she cried again. Eddie walked you to the living room and bought you a beer, hoping that you would stay with him a little longer. You shared several beers until you were quite drunk and he was efficiently horny to take a step forward with you.

The kisses and caresses increased to the point where he had you naked under him in the mating press position. The summer heat made both of your bodies wet and his cum-filled balls slapped loudly against your butt. His thrusts were short but strong, giving you a rush of pleasure every time the tip of his cock hit your cervix, wanting to make you pregnant.

"Shit, baby.. You're so tight and wet, I bet you love fucking the single dad, huh?" his voice was agitated and low enough not to wake little Lily. You tried to respond but no coherent words came out of your mouth, only moans cut off by his aggressive thrusts.

Eddie took your hands and brought them above your head, immobilizing you almost completely. "I'm going to fuck you until your legs stop working- and you have to stay here with me forever.." He pressed your foreheads together, feeling his breath on your face. "...I'm going to make you my wife and you'll be here when I get home from work, in your slutty dresses, holding Lily in your arms... and with your stomach inflated with my baby inside you" you moaned loudly when you heard him and your legs took him. They hugged his waist tightly, bringing him closer to you.

Eddie used his free hand and brought it to your clit, massaging it vigorously and feeling how your walls enveloped his fat cock. "Keep your voice down, mommy, we don't want Lily to wake up before i get you pregnant..." he murmured and then silenced you with a rough, wet kiss.

"You're going to give me a beautiful baby, a little brother for my Lily..." at this point you could only nod your head like a fool, dazed by the pleasure and all the information. "Oh shit, I'm going to cum, I'm going to cum inside you and you're going to carry my baby with you..!"

After that meeting, both of you continued with your routines but without talking about what had happened, until one day you were the one who knocked on his door. In your left arm you held Lily and in your right hand you had a pregnancy test. Positive.

#eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn x reader #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #breeding k1nk #stranger things smut #singledad #singledad!eddie

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revehae · 3 days

Text

warnings: noncon, drugging

wc. 837

repost. i found this in my docs accidentally (which is silly because when i intentionally looked for it i couldn’t find it…?)

the night feels mistier than it looks, the moon marveling down at itself as it reflects in the water and a bridge of light gleams gently across the still lake. jeno’s car isn’t parked too far. if you tried to walk there in this state, it wouldn’t feel that way, but it’s just shy of the edge.

mark and jeno would never let you make that journey though, not without their support. you never used to think that you were a lightweight, but considering mark and jeno have to nurse you every time you drink together, it was safe to say that you couldn’t hold your liquor.

they’re such good friends, you always tell yourself the morning after, helping you take care of yourself and still inviting you back the next time. you tried to tell them that you wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t want you to come, you wouldn’t want to babysit a drunk grown woman either, but the two insist that you are far from a nuisance.

tonight is no different from any other friday night that you spend getting drunk with your trustworthy friends. you each have a couple of drinks, downing shots in between laughter and chatter. nothing’s out of the blue, really. until it is. until that strange, familiarly unfamiliar feeling creeps up on you, the isolation of your debilitated senses, the lack of control altogether.

it always goes like this. a few shots, some jokes, some stumbling around. mark and jeno crack the jokes now, laughing at how drunk you are, but nevertheless holding onto you. jeno’s holding onto your left while mark’s got your right, their distinct touches peculiarly familiar to you for whatever reason. you know mark’s calloused hands and hardened palms when you feel them, as you do jeno’s strong grip, because he never not fails to remember his strength.

they guide you to the car, assuring you that they’re going to sober you up with some water mark brought to jeno’s car but for whatever reason didn’t think to bring out with the the drinks. and then it’s blank, foggy and unclear.

you don’t remember jeno’s unforgiving hold on your wrists, his merciless pace as if he’s trying to squeeze you into his leather seat. you don’t remember his degrading little words as he breaks character, going on about how you’re so, so stupid. so trusting. too trusting. you don’t remember mark’s toughened hands on your hips as he bulldozes your pussy, nothing but, “fuck,” leaving his mouth.

hell, you don’t even remember hearing them play rock paper scissors to decide who gets to have their wicked way with you before the other, mark being the lucky guy tonight.

because when your senses are restored, the sun is up and you aren’t at the lake anymore nor are you inside of jeno’s car. given that mark’s place is closest, they took you there for the night, and it’s his spare room that you wake up inside of.

when you meet mark and jeno in the morning, they even have breakfast going, and everything’s so overwhelmingly normal in spite of the strange feeling that possesses you.

because when mark wraps his arm around you in a sweet hug, his hand brushes a sliver of your exposed skin even though you’re fully dressed, and it feels strange. when jeno whispers something in your ear about mark’s cooking skills or lack thereof, his tone and the little chuckle that follows is too familiar.

and it starts to occur to you, the memories of what happened the night before, through a thick, blurry haze. mark’s mangling weight on top of your body and rough fingers. jeno’s harsh words that are hardly jokes, violent and sweaty skin sticking to yours.

it’s so distant that you can’t tell if it’s a dream or a memory, but to your horror, it feels so real. it explains the stinging around your wrists and the bruising at your hips, the sticky stuff in your underwear.

but you don’t want to believe that mark and jeno are capable of hurting you. not when they take care of you so much more than they have to, not when they’re always so sweet and kind, so loving.

you ask mark and jeno if anything happened last night a couple of moments into breakfast, an unsettling feeling like bile in your throat. it’s different than an average hangover, it spreads all over and wrecks through your whole being like an implacable virus.

mark and jeno play dumb, as if they’re totally oblivious to what you’re implying, even if they remember in detail what you would never be able to recall as descriptively as they do amongst each other. they say that you passed out in the car, and it’s so convenient, almost too convenient, but that’s their story and they stick to it.

and really, you don’t press for the truth, because you wouldn’t know how to accept your friends being anybody but who you think they are anyway.

#tw: noncon #tw: drugging #mark lee smut #lee jeno smut #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark smut #jeno smut #nct dream hard hours

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twistedwonderlandshenanigans · 21 hours

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"Stupid" Things the TWST Cast Believed As Kids

I was going to post this without a preamble but it just looked wrong LMAO -----------------------------------------------------

Heartslaybul

Riddle - He just mispronounced a lot of words out loud. This is actually common in a lot of kids that read a lot, they don't know how to say a word any differently than the way they've pronounced it in their head, so some examples: (Ladle -> would rhyme with Saddle, Rhythm had over-emphasis on the first 'h', etc.)

Trey - thought butter was made from the fat collected off of cow butts ('butt' was also the only 'naughty' word he knew for a long time). The thing is he had probably seen his parents make butter. either by accident or on purpose and it still didn't click for him.

Cater - only ate black beans, (when they were served). when he was a kid because he thought they were the same as coffee beans. He saw his dad eating chocolate covered coffee beans and got mad when he denied him the Delight Of Caffeine at Three Years Old so thought eating black beans was like. A super sneaky way of being like his dad.

Deuce - Chocolate covered strawberries came from a special plant, he didn't think his mom just set them up for him sometimes. He ended up asking more than a few times when his strawberries were plain when they could 'go back to the store and get the good kind' and would call the strawberries without chocolate 'rotten'.

Ace - For whatever reason, he didn't think bears were a real animal. Just. Teddy bears existed. And of course when his big brother showed him pictures of real bears he thought he was messing with him. Ace will not admit how long it took him to realize that bears are real.

Savannaclaw

Leona - Falena told him once that vanilla extract comes from 'beaver butt juice' and it was in all the vanilla flavoured desserts he's ever had. Yes Falena was messing with him to get his portion of desserts because Leona was too grossed out to eat them. It managed to last about 6 months before Leona was fed up and researched the information on his own.

Ruggie - His grandma protected him best she could from food scarcity, so he genuinely believed she knew how to make something from nothing. Same with his clothes.

Jack - Refused to eat hotdogs because he thought they were made from real dogs and cried whenever he saw someone else eating hot dogs. Even when they bough turkey hot dogs he thought they added 'turkey flavouring' to the Dogs.

Octavinelle

Azul - Thought cuttlefish were 'cuddlefish' and would get so SO upset when they didn't want to snuggle with him

Jade - When he first heard the word 'hermaphrodite' he thought it meant someone who just really really liked hermit crabs.

Floyd - Was SO disappointed to find out ice cream didn't scream while you eat it (I-scream)

Scarabia

Kalim - Used to try and eat really fast, so Jamil told him if he ate his food too hot his tongue would melt to the top of his mouth. (Yeah Jamil got in trouble for that one but it worked, Kalim savoured his food and he still makes sure his food is cooled down a little before he eats).

Jamil - Didn't eat yogurt for a long time because he didn't want to 'feed the bacteria in his belly'. That was his only reasoning.

Pomefiore

Vil - thought candy cigarettes were real cigarettes, this resulted in him biting one of his dad's or fellow actor's cigarettes and Regretting it. (Even the fake ones are filled with like an herbal blend, you don't want to eat it still)

Rook - kinda sad, but genuinely thought termites were considered dessert. They were fairly rampant in his home so he would eat them any chance he got (raw termites supposedly taste like pineapple).

Epel - yeah he thought he was a werewolf, there isn't much else to add.

Ignihyde

Idia - Thought that microwaving a spider/other bugs for a very short amount of time would mutate their DNA and he could keep it as a pet, despite many failed attempts, he continued trying.

Ortho - (insert ugly crying here thinking about baby boys early years) he really believed that one day Idia would find a way to bring the characters from tv/video games into 'real life' so they could have play dates with them. (Idia promised him he would try his best)

Diasomnia

Malleus - He thought computers were a type of pet people could have.

Lilia - Used to think that the stars were really big glow bugs

Silver - Fully believed the storks deliver babies thing. Not because of Lilia, but because of a story book and it made things easy so he just rolled with it anyways, until Silver was old enough.

Sebek - That the fountain of youth was real - he wanted to drink from it once he reached his prime so that he could serve Malleus always.

Others

Che'nya - Refused to believe that gum ever came from trees because he 'tried sap before and it didn't even taste like syrup so how could something sweet as gum come from trees'.

Najma - Thought she was able to talk to ghosts, it was just Jamil fucking with her lskjfhsldkjfsdf

Neige - Didn't know what owls were, called them tree penguins.

Rollo - Called ambulances 'Body Rescue Busses' because even as a kid he knew only God could save your soul. (you can take that seriously or as satire idc) -------------------------------------------------------- @fluffle-writes thank you for the compliments, and the motivation to write!! ljfkjdshflkjsdf

If you want to be on a taglist in the future lmk

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wilcze-kudly · 1 day

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I do find it annoying how a lot of Zutara fans tweak the character's stories, personalities and even the timelines to suit their own needs.

Once again, there's nothing wrong with fanon and headcanons, however if looking through the lense of canon, you're objectively wrong.

I ended up stumbling on a post from a Zutara shipper. (At this point I'm regretfully considering not following the tags for Zuko or Katara because I get way too much Zutara content lol) I'm not replying directly to her because I don't want this to turn into an argument, and I know she doesn't take criticism very well.

Ok, So let's break this down.

The character who was first out of the group to trust Zuko?

I'm quite sure this is referring to the scene in Ba Sing Se's caves. And yes, that is a very important scene. I think it's a very important scene preceeding Zuko's 'relapse'. It shows how he's matured during his time in Ba Sing Se and therefore it serves to add to our dismay when he joins Azula. I adore the fact that Zuko's journey to redemption is not linear, it certainly adds a lot to the character and shows us how his trauma affected him.

It's also a horrific moment for Katara. To have her worldview on Zuko and firebenders as a whole challenged, and then for it to go blowing up in her face. It rips open old wounds of her childhood. It refreshes her resentment of Zuko and the Fire Nation as a whole. It parallels the death of her mother when Aang dies due to Azula's lighting and she is unable to do anything about it. It places her back in that spot of helplessness. Even though she's grown up, even though she's a master waterbender, she still comes a hair's breadth to losing one of the most important people in her life.

No wonder she hated Zuko so much after this.

It's an important moment for both characters, but I wouldn't say it is that in a romantic sense. It's a sweet, hopeful moment that then turns absolutely horrific and visceral for both parties.

I could argue that there are other characters who could be given the title of 'first to trust Zuko'. Funnily, Appa being one of them lol.

But other characters trusting Zuko dovetails nicely into the next point.

The character who emotionally connects to Zuko?

Well, technically, I'd argue that most members of the Gaang connect emotionally on one level or another with him?

But I'd argue that Aang is the person Zuko connected with the most. Aang is Zuko's parallel. Aang is the first person to reach out to Zuko. Aang is the person who showed mercy to Zuko, multiple times. Aang is the person who valued Zuko's life, the life of someone whose whole life goal is to capture him.

This was also an incredibly important moment to Zuko. This is the thing he brings up when trying to convince the Gaang to let him join.

Zuko: Why aren't you saying anything? You once said you thought we could be friends. You know I have good in me.

The character Zuko feels safest letting his guard down around?

It's Mai. Love her or hate her, her relationship with Zuko is incredibly important to him. Maiko isn't my favourite Zuko ship, in full honesty. But even platonically, Mai and Zuko are one another's reprieve from their respective shitty lives.

People often talk about Katara touching Zuko's scar while discussing healing his scar, however one could argue that she did so as a medical examination. Mai touching Zuko's scar is a casual thing, neither of them really make a big deal of it and that's the beauty of it.

I'm mainly talking out of my own personal experience, as someone with a huge amount of burn scars, but there is a world of difference between someone inspecting my scars like Katara did and simply accepting them as a part of me, like Mai does for Zuko.

With Mai, Zuko isn't the scarred banished prince, Ozai's son or Azula's brother. He's just Zuko. And they speak freely with one another, arguing like real people do. Often, being comfortable having arguments is actually a sign of being comfortable with one another.

The character who helps Zuko heal from his trauma?

Once again, this is a bit of a flawed question. By the end of the show, Zuko isn't even fully healed, in my opinion. He has made leaps and bounds on the road to recovery, but when he will truly heal if ever is yet to be seen.

Zuko's journey to recovery includes plenty of people. This includes Iroh, Aang, Song and Jin. People who show him the error of his coping mechanism. Who challenge his worldview, who coax him out of the his shell of pain and anger.

The character known for showing most compassion to others?

Yes, Katara's compassion is a huge part of her character. Her need to help and protect those who cannot do that for themselves cannot be understated.

But Aang's compassion for others and all beings is just as great, if not greater than Katara's. Compassion and nonviolence are huge parts of his culture and his own philosophy.

Aang: Wait, we can't just leave him here. Sokka: Sure we can. Let's go. Aang :No, if we leave him he'll die. Aang airbends himself off Appa and retrieves Zuko, bringing him to Appa. Sokka: [Sarcastically.] Yeah, this makes a lot of sense. Let's bring the guy who's constantly trying to kill us.

Friendly reminder that Aang could've absolutely wrecked Ozai, but held back because his own moral compass was so powerful. Hell, he was friendly and nice to Azula, the woman who literally killed him.

This is why Aang and Katara work so well together. They're both incredibly compassionate people who will immediately jump in to help others in need. Like they did during the Painted Lady, destroying the factiry together.

The character who primarily bears the burden of having to step up into a parental role?

I think "parental role" is an incredibly vague term. There's a lot of things that go into a "parental role". Katara plays a stereotypically "maternal" role, while someone who plays a "paternal" one would probably be Sokka.

Katara deals with very "homemaking" tasks like sewing and cooking, etc. And Sokka often takes on the role of leader, hunter, gatherer and also protector, despite being a nonbender.

This coincides nicely with their core childhood traumas. The loss of Katara's mother impacted her greatly, leading her to have to step up into a motherly role. While Sokka was clearly heavily traumatised by his father departing and the crushing responsibility of having to care for his entire village.

Sexism also probably played a part in this dichotomy.

The character who represses their emotions to be strong for others?

I'd argue that this could apply to all the members of the Gaang in some capacity.

Aang's pain is something most of us will never experience and cannot hope to understand. The complete horrific destruction of his culture and home followed him through the entire show. He was entitled to his grief and rage, yet he supressed it. We see during Appa's kidnapping, how easy it would be for Aang to rage, to let himself be destructive. And yet, he wakes up every day and chooses to smile and goof off, because his friends need someone to remind them how to be children.

Sokka puts on a very impressive bravado, despite having a lot of insecurities. However, as the oldest member of the Gaang (pre Zuko) he puts on a facade of the confident and unbothered older brother. Even if he's the butt of almost every joke, he still keeps that demeanour up, letting it slip only a few times.

I'd actually argue that Toph is the person whom this label fits best. While we know Toph as witty, callous and strong, we have to remember that she kept up the facade of her parents' good, helpless little blind girl for no reason other than her mother and father's comfort. She actually hides a lot of her hurt, covering it up with a prickly exterior.

I want to do longer think pieces about Toph and Katara so apologies if this isn't complete.

I'm actually baffled by the idea of Katara repressing her emotions. She's actually quite straightforward and open about her feelings. She yells and feels a lot of emotions and lets them be heard. She gets angry and sad. She's actually kinda bitchy sometimes and that's honestly why I love her so much.

The whole inciting incident of the show was her getting so pissed off she somehow pulls a giant iceberg from the bottom of the sea.

She is anything but repressed.

She is angry.

She's angry at the fire nation, at Sokka, at her father, at men, and with good right to be so.

This is what makes her an amazing character and one who broke the mould of a lot of female characters at the time. Her anger and unrestrained emotions rang true with a lot of watchers at the time. I'm not sure why this is being taken away from her rather than celebrated.

I reiterate the point I made at the beginning of this post: there is nothing wrong with headcanons and fanon interpretations for one's enjoyment. I do find it a bit odd when it changes a character too much (because then, why not just create an oc?) but it's all in good fun. However, you shouldn't push that onto other people and how they perceive canon and you certainly shouldn't use it to take away from other characters. It's a very unfair way of entering discourse.

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ohnococo · 1 day

Text

the opening of a shell / the shell that hides a pearl | Geto x F!Reader

Suguru supports you in all that you do, builds you up whenever he can, especially when he’s got you in his bed and hanging on his every word.

❥ WC: 2.5k

❥ Notes: a request for geto + praise, set in a canon-divergent AU where Geto didn’t defect and reader is a sorcerer with newly awakened powers - but as usual is 95% pwp

❥ Warning: fem bodied reader, praise, established relationship, geto is sort of a mentor to reader due to his experience, pet names (pretty girl, good girl, sweetheart, my girl, perfect girl), kissing, hickeys/marking, vaginal sex, creampie

minors/ageless blogs get blocked on sight

It’s hard to not be intimidated by your boyfriend. Even the knowledge that you and you alone are the one that gets to refer to him as that—your boyfriend—is enough to have you flustered sometimes.

Not flustered exactly… that isn’t quite the right word… and you do always struggle with coming up with the right words to describe your feelings around Suguru, because it’s too soon to use the first word that comes to mind.

Maybe it leaves you proud, or unsure, or even just dazzled that you have such an impressive boyfriend, and that he considers you to be the same. Impressive.

It’s strange how he manages to act as a mentor without making you feel as though you’re beneath him, guiding you and praising you for your skill as a sorcerer even though your experience—the largest division between you two—pales in comparison to his. You suppose he just has those innate leadership skills though, and feel lucky that he sees your potential.

He does his all to make sure you see it too, in every facet of your life. What you lack in cursed energy can be made up for with a carefully honed technique. What you lack in experience can be helped by the knowledge gained through experiences of his own. What you lack in confidence, even if that uncertainty forms for only a moment, can be built with your steadily building skill and Suguru’s mouth, in more ways than one.

It’s something he does with as much ease as anything else. When you doubt if you’re really suited for work you’ve been sent on. When you’re debating what to wear, or looking at yourself unkindly. When you look at him, so lost in his gorgeous appearance that you might have forgotten that there’s just as much beauty in your own. He’s quick to quell any doubts. And even in the absence of those creeping negative feelings, he’s quick to add yet another building block of confidence to what is already there.

Reminding you of the feats you’d managed to accomplish in the short time since your powers had awakened. Reminding you that he’s with you for a reason.

Or, like right now, by lying you back onto your bed quietly, spreading your legs in wait for his touch, kissing your neck and smiling at every noise you make, all while lilting out comments about how perfect you are for him until you’ve lost track of time completely, nevermind any lingering doubts.

“You don’t have to say all of that, Suguru…”

“I know,” he looks up at you through the few stray hairs falling down into his face, “but it needs to be said…”

He brings his mouth back to your skin, pressing kisses between your breasts, lips rubbing gently across the goosebumps forming from his attention. “Until you remember.”

Words from his lips fall with such a playful ease that it’s hard not to read into them. It almost muddies the waters for when he is being genuinely loving and affectionate like this - although maybe he was always being that way with you? Gentle guidance with a heart behind his hand as he helps you find the way to be your very best.

It’s a kind of confusion you find exciting, one you’re sure you’ll look back on fondly when you finally reach that point in your relationship where you can reveal your own hand to him fully. Though you’d be surprised if he couldn’t already see it. From the knowing smile you get with his sideways glance down at you as you steady your breathing under his praise. When you look to him before anyone else when dealing with a cursed spirit. When you clench and swell for him when he’s hardly even touched you, because his words are touch enough.

“Your skin is so soft…”

The first time he’d said it, before you’d even started dating, is when he grabbed your hand to help you up after getting thrown onto your back in training. You’d waved off the feeling it had built in you with an off handed comment about your moisturizer of choice—he’d found that cute the first time. Every time since, though, it’s said with a little more authority behind it. Suguru is stating a fact, that happens to be a compliment, and you’re going to take it for him.

You reach down to grab at his hand and he intertwines your fingers, squeezing in a way that you almost think telegraphs that he knows exactly the memory you’re thinking of.

“I’m talking to you pretty girl, look at me.”

It’s the least you can do, with the way he had your pussy drooling for him, and the way he was undoubtedly going to take care of that for you. Once your eyes have locked onto his, his face flashes from observing to adoring, soft smile tugging at his lips as he trails a hand down your stomach.

“Like I was saying, so soft.” His fingers make their way between your legs, pressing at your puffy lips through your panties, “Especially here.”

His smile widens in time with your brows furrowing at how intense such a small touch was after so much teasing and talking from Suguru. He presses into you again, this time with his finger settled between your lips, and he lets out an impressed hiss of breath at how your clit throbs for him, a breath you take in with the gasp his actions pull from you. Then, the pressure is gone, replaced with him softly gliding the pad of his finger upwards, petting so gentle it would have hardly been felt if you weren’t so desperate for more.

You tense, want to arch your hips upward, to get him to rub a little harder, and he chuckles like he knows, nose brushing at yours. It’s a move that sends your mind into a frenzied debate over whether to close the distance between your mouths, or to angle your hips up in search of the friction that you need. In the end, you do neither, because your focus is brought back to Suguru’s words: you want to hear them too much to kiss him. And once you’ve heard them you want to live up to them too much to chase your high.

“You know what you want, don’t you? But you’re so patient for me. Waiting until I’m ready to give it to you.”

He presses a kiss to your cheek, bringing his mouth lower to whisper into your ear, and you’re grateful to have him close enough to be heard over the beating of your heart—but you suppose he knows all too well that he works you up into such a frenzy that it’s as if all your senses have dulled just to make sure you can savour every touch you receive from him.

Even now, the feel of his breath tickling at your skin is much more prominent than the words floating through the haze of lust surrounding you, though they’re always able to slip into the cracks of your mind.

“Want me to kiss it?”

You shake your head, and he leans back to meet your eyes, surprised at your response, before smiling again as he guesses at why you’ve declined. “You want it already? My needy girl… I love it.”

Hearing that word from him, even when it isn’t followed by that crucial ’you’, has a happiness bubbling up in your chest with such ferocity that you let out a little laugh, matched by Suguru and followed by a hungry kiss. It’s different from the small pecks or languid kisses you’ve gotten so far tonight. His kiss is sudden, hungry, something separate from his usual cool composure, and it pushes you to reach up to him. You slide your hands up the back of his neck, fingers dipping into his thick hair and running along his scalp.

He gives you the reins for that moment, letting you taste his lips, run your fingers through his hair, pull him so close he has to move his hands to either side of you on the bed to keep his full weight off of you. But you want just that, so you wrap your legs around his hips, pulling him further into your embrace until he’s settled between your thighs, grinding into you gently. You enjoy your momentary detour, relishing in the feel of his tongue against yours, before you start to feel that lack of what it is you want most right now—his soft words.

Your kisses move to the corners of his mouth, along his jaw, and settle on his neck. When he lets out a groan, and his adam’s apple bobs against your lips, you’re emboldened to suck and lick at his skin there, letting whatever marks may form happen.

Without words, or without your words, Suguru knows exactly what you’re doing and exactly what you need, picking up where he left off.

“Trying to leave a mark?” If it weren’t said so playfully, it would have given you pause. “Good girl, let everyone know I’m yours.”

It makes his movements difficult, but he can’t pull away from your kisses, so instead he props himself up above you on one elbow while he works his pants down with the other, freeing his cock and letting it press against you as he stops for a moment to let the intensity of your mouth’s work against his skin wash over him. You make a move yourself, pulling your hand from his hair to pull your panties to the side, keeping them held aside as he groans at the feel of the underside of his cock finally being able to press against your wetness.

He stays like this, thrusting gently against your folds, giving you the slightest friction with wet, sensitive skin against skin, until he gives you the final say.

“Let me hear your pretty voice.”

You do it gladly, “I need it, Suguru.”

“No, sweetheart,” He finally pulls back, rubbing his nose against yours and tracing his tongue along your parted lips as he lines himself up with your entrance. “You deserve it.”

He swirls the head of his cock around your entrance, dipping in until just the tip is kissed by your warmth. “For being so strong,” he pushes in, just so the ridge of his thick head catches at your tightness as you clench around him with the anticipation of him sliding deep and fucking you as well as he always does.

“For being so open, so eager for me,” he gives you shallow thrusts, pausing his praise for just a moment to groan at the sticky sounds of him stirring up your pussy.

“For taking everything I-“ he presses deep, one thrust right to the hilt, that leaves him groaning as his eyes roll for a moment and you moan out his name in your own form of praise.

“For taking everything I have to give you in stride, and turning it into something more than I could have imagined.”

You want him to move, you need him to move, though not as much as you need him to continue on. So you curl your toes and hold your breath, trying your very hardest not to rock your hips into his, or clench around him, or do anything that would interrupt his words further until he’s ready to give you what you need—what you deserve.

“For opening me up, and letting-“ his jaw clenches and he lets out a huff, returning to shallow thrusts that slowly pick up in intensity as he speaks, until his voice is hitching just to get the rest of it out before your pussy draws him in too deep to keep his carefully crafted composure, “letting me spill myself into you.”

“You’re so good to me, so so good.” And that’s that, with his next words his pace is set, long and deep with hips rocking up just right to have you making noises you didn’t know could come from your lips, “My good girl.”

The sound of your bodies in motion replaces any words Suguru might have formed: hips slapping together, stomachs sliding against one another, heat squelching as you clench at him every time he’s buried deep. He moans every time your bodies are flush against one another, pressing more firmly each time as though he could find a way further into you. Instead, it slides you slowly up the bed, until your hands are pressing at the headboard, only intensifying the sound of it hitting the wall behind it, but neither of you are concerned. Not when you’re both so desperate to see the other break, to feel the other coming undone.

You get there first, Suguru always makes sure of it. When your back arches and your thighs start to tense, he kisses at your jaw, flicking the tip of his tongue at your earlobe before speaking low. “Don’t tense, don’t tense…”

You listen, as much as your body screams to do otherwise, and as you relax into the steady movement of his thrusts you feel like your whole body is pulsing with every slap of his abdomen against your clit.

“That’s my girl, just like that.”

It feels endless, like you’ll cum until there’s no more air to fill your lungs. As the waves peak and sweep you up, Suguru’s movements stutter, ever so slightly—enough to have you begging in the only way your body can manage as you let out a little whine.

“Ah?” He repeats it, stilted and playful even in his frenzy, and when your rolling eyes meet his he’s looking at you with warmth, devotion, something not entirely unlike the way you catch yourself looking at him. Then it’s like he’s heard your thoughts somehow, just by looking at you, but he wants them said aloud.

“Please?”

You nod, receiving the words he could see in your eyes and repeating them back now that he had formed them for you, “Please.”

He gives you what you’ve asked for, reaching his peak on the tail end of yours as he fills you with his cum, pouring it into you in throbbing waves as his thrusts turn to staggered, rough snapping of his hips until he’s letting his weight fall onto you completely. Your hands find their way back into his hair, running through it, sweat be damned, as he sighs gently.

He lets you hold him, kissing gently at your neck, before he decides he needs more air than he’ll get with his head buried there. He pulls out, slowly, rubbing at your waist to soothe the little shiver that goes through you at his absence, before he’s settling his weight back on top of you and resting his head on your chest. He presses a kiss there between your breasts, smiling to himself as he whispers.

“My perfect girl…”

banners by @//cafekitsune

#my writing #reminder minors and ageless blogs get blocked #jjk fanfic #jjk smut #x reader #reader insert #geto suguru x y/n #geto suguru x you #geto suguru x reader #geto x you #geto x y/n #geto x reader #geto smut

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daisiescomelate · 2 days

Text

A rose for a rose

Prompt: jjk characters buy you flowers 🌹

Characters: shoko, toji, gojo, nanami

masterlist

Shoko - 'The one that loves too much'

Shoko held her cigarette to her lips and looked sideways at the man sitting on a chair on the street with buckets filled with fresh flowers arranged in bouquets. He had a small variety of flowers, and the bouquets were simple but pretty.

She left the school to get to a nearby pharmacy to restock on bandages and ointment for the infirmary. She walked without a rush. It was a nice sunny day, and she wondered if she should pick up a snack for lunch at the convenience store she knew was right ahead on the next block.

The man sat in silence immerse on his own thoughts. He remained invisible to the crowd that didn't spared him a glance. The handwritten signs on cardboard boxes read the prices. "Big bouquet", "Small bouquet", "Small rose bouquet", "Single rose".

Shoko put out her cigarette and approached the nearest set of flowers. White, yellow, pink, red. She didn't actually know how to call the flowers by name. She bent her knees to her chest to give them a closer look, and reached out with a single finger to caress one of the petals.

"Flowers are a nice way to say 'thank you'." A soft voice said. Shoko lifted her eyes to see the man on the chair who pointed at one of the small bouquets. "Since sometimes it's a hard thing to say with words."

Shoko looked at the set of small bouquets on the bucket. She asked herself if it would be alright to take one with her. She considered it carefully, and then reconsidered to consider it some more.

It never escaped her how odd was the amount of time she had to ponder around this type of thing. It shouldn't be so hard to buy a gift for your partner. But there was this hesitation, faint but ever present around her heart, the fear of exposing herself as the type of person that loved too much. The fear of finding out to be the one that loved more.

She picked a set of flowers from the bucket. The plastic crinkled under the light weight of her fingers. Three light pink roses with small white flowers around them. How nice it would be to not be scared to buy them.

You would love them.

You would kiss her thank you and smile at her with your whole heart. 'I love you', you would whisper, the way you did every morning and every night.

Sometimes Shoko wondered why it was so hard for her to trust and let go, guessed she was too scarred.

Maybe not just yet.

She placed the flowers back into the bucket and stood up, putting her hands back into the pockets of her white coat.

"You don't look like you're hesitating because of the price", the man said.

Shoko debated with herself if she should make something up to avoid a salesman speech. She started to feel as if she was in the way of the walking crowd.

"They are quite cheap, actually. You should raise your prices." She decided to answer.

"Saying 'thank you' sometimes makes us feel too vulnerable, doesn't it?"

The man had an eccentric way to do sales.

Yet...

Shoko looked back at the bouquet of flowers, picking at her nails inside the pockets of her coat. Just do it. It was normal to get gifts for your partner. You had done it multiple times for her.

If a bunch of flowers felt like too much... Did she really love you?

Her eyes flickered between the colors.

If a bunch of flowers was too much–

Shoko bent down and picked one of the single roses wrapped around clear plastic paper decorated with prints of white hearts and stars.

Small steps.

She reached for her pocket and took out a bill from her wallet.

"Keep the change." She said to the man.

"Have a good day, lady." He accepted the money.

Shoko carried the rose carefully in one hand and decided she would stop at the convenience store after all before getting back to the school.

Toji - 'Poor man with rich solutions'

Toji walked back home in the afternoon after work.

The road he usually took was cut due to a festival on the streets that would take place that night and for the following week, therefore he had to take a detour and move to one of the busy streets he usually avoided.

The crowd of busy office men and women in their tidy suits moved forward ready to get back to rest for the day.

His groceries hung on the tip of his fingers. His mind was elsewhere, pondering between his next gig and what he should make for dinner.

You were supposed to come by tonight. He went out for some ingredients for dessert, since he wanted tonight to be a little more fancy. He did have a rough moment at the store when he realized he didn't know about your ice cream preference, but everyone liked chocolate flavor, right?

That was a thing he should ask about tonight.

Lost in his thoughts, he caught himself on time before clashing with someone that came from the side at a hurried pace.

The man had come out from one of the stores that lined one against the other on the street. He carried a phone in one hand, and his wallet, a bouquet, a bag and a jacket in the other. He held everything with a deadly grip while trying to put the backpack's straps on his shoulders without dropping everything else. The bouquet flapped around and got caught under the jacket for a moment. A rose petal fell on the sidewalk.

"I'm on my way, baby. I stopped for a little surprise for you." The man said on the phone, "You'll see, you'll see..."

He had a dumb smile on his face and his eyes shined bright. He was so stupified by the voice on the other side of the phone he still didn't realize Toji was right behind him and he was close to hit him in his stupid little dance.

Toji raised an eyebrow at the anxious little man.

"I'm going to the train station right now, I'll be there in twenty minutes. Do you want me to pick something up from the store?"

He finally got to put his backpack on properly, and get his wallet in his pocket. He hung the jacket on one of the straps of his bag, and he stared at the yellow bouquet with a tender expression.

The person on the other side of the phone must have said something funny because next he was turning around while giggling like an idiot.

The man walked away jumping on his toes, blind to the pedestrians he barely avoided in his trance. His laugh lingered as he lost himself in the crowd.

Toji mumbled some not nice words under his breath and looked to the side to where the man had come from. The flower shop was a little hole in the wall. The front of the shop was almost completely glass so you could see the flower arrangements lined up for display.

Toji thought of how stupidly in love that person looked while looking at the bouquet he bought.

He wondered if you would like to receive some too.

He stepped closer to the window of the shop. He looked at the shades of pink, orange, blue, white and red. A bucket of red roses was set on the middle row to the left. The price of half a dozen roses was...

Insane.

Toji scolded at the amount. It was ridiculous. What do they water these flowers with that got them to be this expensive? He pressed his jaw tight, doing some quick math on his brain. No. There was not enough on his wallet right now, and the money he had left on the bank was everything he had to work with until next month.

Whatever. You never mentioned flowers anyway.

He turned away from the flower shop and resumed his walk home.

A bitter feeling followed close behind him with every step as he left the busy streets and began walking into a residential area.

Toji thought of the men and his stupid smile again, and the feeling of frustration grew on his chest.

He sighed, thinking there was no reason to make such a big deal out of a simple idea that had flashed through his mind and you didn't even know about.

Still, there was a lingering feeling of having disappointed you-

Until a sudden idea struck.

Toji stopped on his feet one more time and looked at a house to his left. It was an old house like all the others in this particular neighborhood. Around this area the streets were quiet, and the rent was cheap. It was the kind of neighborhood that had many elderly people hanging around.

The type of people that had a lot of free time and enjoyed gardening.

The particular house he had spotted had a flower pot hanging by the window that faced the street.

Toji listened attentively and looked straight into the window for any sight of life. Then, he walked slowly to the pot. He left his grocery bags on the floor and drew a knife from his waist.

A few minutes and a few bad cuts by thorns later, Toji was walking down the sidewalk with his handmade bouquet.

If you think about it, handmade gifts are always more meaningful than something anyone could buy in a store.

The following morning a grandma cursed at the bandals that had massacred his roses and swore to one day get her revenge.

Gojo - 'Black Card in love'

Satoru was on his lazy hour after lunch scrolling on his phone. A new picture of you crossed his feed and he instantly liked it and opened it to read the comments. Friends, family and some random weirdos complimented your sweet smile hiding behind a wildflower you were holding on one hand.

Taking a break with friends at the park, the caption read. He smiled. He wanted to ditch work and teletransport next to you right then. He sighed dramatically.

"My beloved is out there being monopolized by a bunch of randos and I'm here rotting." He complained to no one in particular, or maybe to the entire Universe.

He clicked his tongue and shook his head, to then refocus his attention at the comment section of your post.

so cuteeeee

youre eyes are so pretty

Today is a sunny day lets enjoy it!

so pretty.. the flower too...

Satoru frowned at the screen. Vultures. And then he typed a comment of his own.

My partner is so beautiful!!

And filled it with an exuberant amount of red hearts so the comment would stand out to anyone who entered to leave their own.

Satoru knew he had nothing to be afraid of, there was nothing this people had that could match with him. Money, power and a good name. Gojo Satoru was one hell of a catch. He was exactly what everyone looked for in a partner. Exactly what you deserved. That was why those comments were so preposterous to him.

He tapped on your picture and looked at your profile, checking if there was any other photo he hadn't seen yet that you upload recently, but he was proud to say he was up to date.

He returned to his feed and the torment of the infinite scrolling, pausing every once in a while on some pictures not because he was interested but out of boredom, when a particular picture caught his attention.

It was the picture of one of your friends holding a big bouquet of roses that covered most of the frame with a wide smile on their face. The caption read, Happy birthday to me! Thank you to my one and only for this beautiful gift.

You had liked the picture and your comment was between the first few of the bunch.

happy birthday!! those flowers are so beautiful i wish someone did that for me some day too!!

Satoru took his feet off the table in front of him. He sat up, leaned his body forward and prompted his elbows over his knees, tapping his cheek with his finger.

You never said that you liked flowers? Silly you.

He closed social media and opened his browser. It took him a few minutes to find a place that spoke quality, but after that he was quick to get on the phone.

"La Boutique Florale, my name is Amy. How might I help you?"

"Amy! Hello~. I would like to order five hundred roses, please."

"Absolutely, sir. Is it for an event?"

"Just a bouquet." He said while playing with his nails.

"A bouquet, sir?"

"Yes. But add some of those tiny white flowers to make it look pretty..." He smiled already thinking of the picture you would post of it. He needed to be on them.

"The price of a five hundred bouquet of flowers would be–"

"Don't worry about that. I'll pay with credit." Any price she could name was not a struggle for him.

"Good, no problem. Would you like to add a note, sir?"

"A note? Mmm... write something like 'for my pretty bumblebee with love from your one and only' on a nice handwriting. Add a little heart to it. I'll tell you the address..."

As easy as that.

When everything was set and done he hung up the phone and stretched on his chair with a satisfied smile.

Gojo Satoru was one hell of a catch. He just liked to remind you of it once in a while, so you wouldn't be tempted by something less than you deserved.

Nanami - 'The ways of a gentleman'

Nanami parked his car in front of a tiny flower shop in the outskirts of the city on his way to school. It was early in the morning. The sunlight was still hushing away the cold of the night. It tickled his skin when he opened the car's door and as he walked the short distance to the shop.

A bell dinged as he opened the glass door. A nice lady offered him a ‘good morning’ and asked if he was looking for anything in particular.

Nanami brushed his gaze around the flowers on display. A line of flower arrangements on a table at the center of the room caught his eye. He walked to the table and pondered on the colors. He already had something in mind before coming in. One of the bouquets in particular seemed to be what he was looking for.

"That's a beautiful choice, is it meant for a special occasion?" The lady asked when he placed the roses over the counter.

"It's our anniversary today." He said, and took out his wallet to pay.

"Well, I'm sure your partner would love it. Small details are what makes a long lasting relationship."

Nanami slightly smiled for himself, agreeing with the lady but having nothing else to add.

The lady smiled too and reached under the counter for a piece of paper and a pen. She bent over to place the pen over the card. Nanami could guess what she was going to ask before she had the chance to do so, so he said instead,

"Do you mind if I write it?"

"Of course not, here you go.” She slided the pen to place it in front of him and accepted his card. The lady passed the payment while he scribbled a short message. It was straightforward, but in no way not less meaningful because of it, coming from Nanami.

For another year together. With love, Kento.

"Here you go..." Called the lady as she left his card over the counter.

Nanami thanked her and placed the card and his wallet back in his back pocket. He left the shop followed by a 'have a good day', and got to his car. He opened the driver's door and carefully placed the roses over the passenger seat.

As he started the engine, he thought if there was still time to pick up another treat for you or if he risked getting late for work. The thought only troubled him because he wanted to see you before you started your class with the first years.

He might as well rush, because truth be told, he was kind of excited to see you to give you your gift and a sweet 'i love you' kiss.

#fanfic #fanfiction #jjk #x reader #shoko x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #nanami x reader #toji x reader #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #nanami kento #toji fushiguro #🧁-- drabbles #shoko ieri x reader #gojo satoru x reader #nanami kento x reader #toji fushigro x reader

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godsfavdarling · 2 days

Text

It’s all you

my masterlist

+18!!!

pairing: Spencer Reid x male!reader

words: 2k

summary: You and Spencer just came back from your birthday dinner, and your boyfriend loves to quote poetry to you!

warnings: smut, fluff, grinding, no use of y/n (idk what else)

a/n: This was a request! I love the idea! This was my first time writing male!reader! I hope it’s kind of good? The poem Spencer recites is “The Hug” by Thom Gunn. I had fun writing this! I hope y'all like it! If anyone cares I promise I will eventually come back to my spencelle fic (maybe once the semester is over at my uni)!!! <3

The evening had settled into a comfortable quiet as you and Spencer lounged on the couch, the soft hum of the city beyond the window a distant murmur. The gentle light of the room cast warm shadows, adding to the intimacy of the moment.

Spencer sat with his legs tucked neatly under him, a relaxed smile on his face as he looked down at you, your legs draped across his lap. It was just after midnight, and you had both just come back from dinner with friends.

"Tonight was really something," you said, your voice a low murmur. "I think it's been a while since we all let loose like that… Since you let loose like that."

Spencer chuckled, his fingers idly tracing patterns on your calf. "It’s your birthday," he began, his voice soft and contemplative. "I’m happy you're happy."

You smiled, feeling the warmth of his touch. "I’m happy. Very happy."

"Good," Spencer said, then leaned his head back, eyes on the ceiling as he spoke softly.

“It was your birthday, we had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who'd showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You blinked, momentarily taken aback by the sudden poetry in his words. "Huh?"

Spencer looked at you, his eyes filled with a tender sincerity. "It's a poem. Made me think of this moment right now."

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from Spencer's words and the way his hand absentmindedly traced circles on your thigh. There was something about Spencer that captivated you.

Most people wouldn't expect him to quote romantic poems; they saw only the genius profiler, the encyclopedia of facts. But you knew the truth. Beneath his brilliant mind and analytical exterior, Spencer Reid was a romantic through and through.

He was perfect in his own unique way. His tousled hair, always slightly disheveled, and the way his eyes sparkled with excitement whenever he talked about something he loved, made your heart race.

Spencer had a certain charm, an endearing blend of intellect and innocence. He was often clueless about the effect he had on you, and others, for that matter. His gestures of affection were genuine, uncalculated, stemming from pure love and admiration.

He had never harbored ill intentions; his love was pure and unwavering. He was the type to remember the smallest details about you (whether he wanted to or not he would always remember but still it was sweet).

As you lay there, your legs draped over his lap, you couldn't help but feel incredibly lucky. Spencer's hand continued its gentle patterns on your thigh, his touch a soothing reminder of his presence. He looked at you, eyes filled with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"You know," you began, your voice soft, "most people wouldn't consider you a romantic."

Spencer's brows furrowed slightly, a hint of confusion in his eyes. "Really? I never thought about it…”

You smiled, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "That's because you don't see yourself the way I do. You have this incredible way of making everything feel... special. Your love, it's like poetry in motion."

A faint blush crept up Spencer's cheeks, and he ducked his head, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I just... I want you to know how much you mean to me. Sometimes words are all I have."

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "And your words mean the world to me, Spencer. You mean the world to me."

Spencer's eyes softened, his hand still tracing gentle patterns on your thigh. "You mean the worlds to me," he whispered.

You both laughed softly, the warmth of the moment making everything feel even more special.

"Do you remember the rest of that poem?" you asked, a mischievous glint in your eye as you shifted your position, straddling Spencer's lap.

Spencer's smile widened, his hands instinctively moving to your hips. "You know I do," he said, chuckling softly.

Your heart skipped a beat at the way he looked at you, a blend of love and amusement. "Then, tell me. Start over." you urged, leaning in closer until your faces were just inches apart.

Spencer's eyes sparkled with the familiar light of his vast memory, but now there was something more—an awareness of the intimacy of the moment.

"It was your birthday," he began again, his voice low and velvety.

“We had drunk and dined

Half of the night with our old friend

Who’d showed us in the end

To a bed I reached in one drunk stride.

Already I lay snug,

And drowsy with the wine dozed on one side.”

You felt a shiver run down your spine, both from his words and the way his hands gently squeezed your hips. There was something incredibly hot about the way Spencer quoted poetry, the way the words flowed effortlessly from his lips. He had never thought about it that way, but it drove you wild.

“I dozed, I slept. My sleep broke on a hug,

Suddenly, from behind,

In which the full lengths of our bodies pressed:

Your instep to my heel,

My shoulder-blades against your chest.”

"That's so hot," you murmured, unable to resist pressing your lips to his. The kiss started soft and tender, but quickly deepened as the heat between you grew. Spencer suddenly broke it and continued.

“It was not sex, but I could feel

The whole strength of your body set,

Or braced, to mine,

And locking me to you

As if we were still twenty-two”

You couldn't help but be drawn to the soft, now raspier timbre of Spencer's voice. It was like music to your ears, a melody that stirred something deep within you. With each whispered word, each gentle breath, you felt yourself falling further under his spell.

As Spencer's hand continued its soothing motion on your thigh, you leaned in closer, your lips trailing feather-light kisses along his neck. You could feel the heat rising between you, a slow burn of desire that intensified with each passing moment.

His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as you continued your ministrations. His touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine and igniting a fire within you. You moved your hips in time with your kisses, a silent rhythm of passion and longing.

“When our grand passion had not yet

Become familial.

My quick sleep had deleted all

Of intervening time and place.

I only knew

The stay of your secure firm dry embrace.”

Spencer's breath hitched as your lips found that sweet spot just below his ear, and you reveled in the small gasp that escaped his lips. Lost in the moment, you let yourself be consumed by the heady sensation of being so close to him.

You could feel his heart pounding in his chest, matching the rhythm of your own. He broke the kiss just long enough to look into your eyes, his breath coming in soft pants.

"I never realized poetry could have this effect," he admitted, a hint of wonder in his voice.

You smiled, your hands cupping his face. "It's not just poetry, Spencer. It's you. The way you speak, the way you touch me... It's all you."

Spencer's eyes darkened with desire, and he pulled you into another kiss, more passionate than before. His hands explored your body with a newfound confidence, his touch sending sparks of pleasure through you.

With trembling hands, you began to unbutton Spencer's shirt, your fingers fumbling slightly with each small button. His breath caught in his throat as you peeled away the fabric, revealing the expanse of his chest beneath.

Spencer's touch was gentle yet firm as he helped you remove his shirt, his fingers grazing your skin with an electric intensity that sent shivers down your spine. With each article of clothing shed, the desire between you burned hotter, a relentless flame threatening to consume you both.

When it came time to remove your pants, you reluctantly pulled away from Spencer's embrace, causing him to emit a soft sigh at the loss of contact. You couldn't help but smile at his reaction, the affectionate gesture only fueling your desire further.

Quickly, you shed your own clothes, feeling a rush of exhilaration as you stood before Spencer completely exposed, completely vulnerable.

But there was no fear in that vulnerability, only a deep sense of trust and intimacy that bound you together. With a shared understanding of each other's desires, you quickly helped Spencer shed his pants, eager to feel his skin against yours once more.

As the last barrier between you fell away, you were left completely exposed, your bodies laid bare before each other. But in that moment, there was no room for self-consciousness or doubt, only the raw, unbridled passion that pulsed between you.

With a hunger that bordered on desperation, you lowered yourself back onto Spencer's lap, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pulled you closer.

The heat of his skin against yours sent sparks flying. And as your bodies came together in a tangle of limbs and desire, there was no room for doubt or hesitation, only the overwhelming need to be as close to each other as humanly possible.

You started to move your hips, the urgent rhythm of your movements causing your now hard cock to graze against Spencer's. He hissed in response, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure coursing through both of you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern as you pressed closer to him.

“Yes, please keep going,” Spencer murmured, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

With a nod, you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him tightly against you as you resumed your grinding. His arms enveloped you in a strong embrace, his touch sending waves of heat radiating through your body.

The room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their desire, the air heavy with the intoxicating scent of your passion. The feel of Spencer's velvet skin against yours sent shivers down your spine, the sensation leaving you breathless and wanting more.

You were so close, the heat of your bodies pressing your cocks against your bellies, the friction sending sparks of pleasure. With each movement, you could hear the wet sounds of your bodies sliding against each other, the slickness of precum adding to the intensity of the moment.

Beads of sweat formed on your skin, glistening in the dim light of the room as you both worked towards release.

Undeterred, you continued to grind against him, the need for release driving you forward. Spencer's gasps and moans filled the room, mingling with your own as you moved together in a frantic rhythm. Your hands roamed over each other's bodies, grasping and pulling, desperate for more of each other.

With each passing moment, the air filled with the scent of sex and sweat, the heady aroma only adding to the overwhelming desire. His hair became matted and messy, sticking to his skin as he lost himself in the heat of the moment.

And then, in a moment of pure ecstasy, you both tasted sweet release, your bodies tensing as you came together in a symphony of bliss. Waves of pleasure washed over you, leaving you breathless and spent, your bodies still pressed together in a tender embrace.

As you caught your breath, the room seemed to spin around you, the world reduced to nothing but the two of you lost in the aftermath.

There was nothing else in the world but the two of you, locked in a dance of desire and devotion. And as you pressed your lips to his, the world fell away, leaving only the intoxicating warmth of him.

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specialagentartemis · 2 days

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thinking more about trigger warnings and. Bluntly, I think except for a couple specific types of things—like a rape scene in a book, or gunshot noises in an audio drama—content warnings are almost impossible to be useful when they come from somebody who doesn’t know you.

I talk about a really good horror movie I saw to my mom, and she asks, “Would I like it?” and I can say, “there’s one pretty bloody and gross scene, and one scene of a chimpanzee attacking somebody but it’s mostly offscreen, and otherwise, it’s mostly suspense and psychological, I think you’d like it.” That’s a content warning. It’s also only really possible because I know my mom and I know what makes her uncomfortable (gore and excessive violence, mostly). I was reading one of the bleakest, most depressing, most unsettling books I’ve read in my life, and chatting about it with a friend, and I said upfront that it’s bleak and upsetting, and also went into the background of the author a little bit—he wrote it as he was in and out of hospitals, dying of cancer. My friend’s dad was at that point in the hospital with cancer. Because I knew that I wanted to contextualize the book if he was considering reading it. A lot of the time when I’m talking about sci-fi books with another friend who reads a lot more of them and faster than I do, they will often let me know, “It developed a really bad straight romance halfway through,” or “the romance arc wasn’t awful but was annoying,” or “I actually didn’t mind the romance in this one.” These can be thought of as content warnings, telling me that kind of content to expect and brace myself so I don’t get disappointed by another stupid romance subplot in a book a otherwise was looking forward to. “It’s got SO much body horror” can either be a warning or a recommendation, depending on who you’re talking to. We trade our assessments of books, and let each other know what we might like and what we won't like. That's super important—and impossible to impersonalize.

Especially when it’s stuff like “yeah it was uncomfortably sexist” or “the author writes Asian people in a really uncomfortable way” or “there’s just random fatphobia consistently throughout” or “one of the magic things in it relies on the idea that love is what makes you human and people who don’t fall in love are monsters” which the author obviously isn’t going to warn for and is going to hurt some people more than others, and some people probably aren’t even going to notice. You kind of have to know somebody before you can assess what they might need to know going into something.

#content warnings #pretty much all of these are based on real conversations I've had with friends and family about various books/movies/podcasts

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starry-bi-sky · 2 days

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how do you clone a fey? that's trick question; and fey love those!

@the-navistar-carol (<333) brought up a good point while I was talking about my changeling danny au with her -- Dani! How would she exist in this au? Danny's a changeling - a fae. How would Dani, a clone of him, be created? How do you make a fey? Not through any means that Vlad is doing; you can't make a fey through unnatural means, considering the Fair Folk are nature. And Vlad's not a fey himself -- he's a halfa, even if he could make a fey, it's not in his best interest too. He's a powerful ghost, but even the weakest fae can overpower the strongest ghost. He won't want a clone of Daniel to be more powerful than him.

(In a three tier hierarchy it goes Ancients -> Fae/Mythos -> Ghosts. They all live in the Infinite Realms, but on different Planes. The fae live above the Ghost Zone in the Fey Wild, while the Mythos live beside the Wilds or down in the ghost zone depending on where they are. Places like the Frozone, the Athens Acropolis, and other such large islands climb throughout all three Planes.)

(While Ghosts can travel into the Fey Wild, its generally advised against as the ectoplasm tends to manifest differently there due to close contact magic. It can make it rather disorientating for a ghost, and as human spirits, the Fae living there would jump them faster than they could blink. So unless you're willing to play mind games with 'steal thy name eat thy face' fae, most ghosts keep out of the way of the Wilds. Fey can travel down into the Ghost Zone, they just don't bother.)

That's of course, not taking into account if Vlad even knows Danny's a fae himself. Vlad doesn't ring me as someone who really cares much about ghost culture or the going ons of the GZ. He might be aware that fae exist, but the moment he realizes he can't use them for personal gain he just doesn't bother with them. The risk is greater than the reward, and he'd rather not get eaten. But lets assume he's aware by now that Danny is fey, and has to take that into account while cloning him.

So, how does Dani exist? Good question! Honestly; i'm not sure. She might not exist at all, or if she does, she's more halfa than fey. Vlad would need a lot of human dna and ectoplasm to balance out all that fae magic. He manages to steal DNA from Jack and Maddie to do it, and since Jack's fey ancestry is very dormant its much easier to use alongside Danny's DNA.

In turn, it results in a little girl whose more human-ghost hybrid than clone. With that little extra boost in fey magic making her not a fey, but still relatively powerful. Dani is less of a clone and more of a lab-grown little sister. It's a rather tedious, complex process that has Vlad tearing his hair out trying to figure out. But he does eventually figure it out.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dpxdc crossover #changeling danny au #danielle fenton #danny phantom #still no mention of DPXDC yet so i'm adding the DP tags if thats alright lmao #how do you clone a fey? trick question! you can't. you can only make something that's not-quite fey but has ties to them.#dani's fey ancestry is an ounce of water compared to the bucket of everything else. which is more than the drop in the pond compared to jac #but not quite as powerful as changeling daniel. whose more fey than human at this rate. which is very fun to think about in terms of #his rogues haha. imagine going into the human realm about to cause chaos only to come face to face with a baby fey. a changeling.#i'd simply pass away a second time. where is your parent. human raised or otherwise?? are they nearby??? shit i thought fey hated urban #cities. what are YOU doing here baby man. im going to get eaten holy fuck. that's so many teeth.#. oh. oh you think you're a ghost. hm. hmhm. i can work with that. lets just. make sure you keep thinking that okay :) great :))#like jumpscare dude. i just saw my afterlife flash before my eyes. hello unsupervised fey child. holy fuck are you teeny tiny.#vlad probably uses some of his own dna to get the halfa effect so really dani's more of a lab grown *half* sister. Danny's gonna end up #stealing her anyways in the end. his sister now :). non-human danny my beloved #catch me using fey and fae interchangeably. my bad #some food for thought sorry if its hard to understand.#steal thy name. eat thy face fey

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