#had to pause to laugh for a full minute and then physically get up to tell my mom i saw this
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absolutely fucking lost it at this one fellas
#banebabbles#spyfam lb#spy x family#had to pause to laugh for a full minute and then physically get up to tell my mom i saw this#IDK WHAT I WAS EXPECTING LIKE#when she ''missed'' i though the gag was it going to be one (1) misfire and then she shreds the rest of the time#bc obvs they DO have to have their tennis battle (so so glad they had nightfall challenge her it's what i wanted)#HOW DID I NOT EVEN THINK TO EXPECT... THAT SHE'D SHRED THE TENNIS BALL ITSELF
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please do one where they were like in a secret relationship and one day reader went live for her fans and idk maybe Tom walked in and now the secret's out. It's up to you how you go abt it. Have a nice day!!
Caught in 4k || Tom Blyth x gf!reader
A/n: Anon you read my mind.... I had this idea sitting in my drafts for quite some time!
Warnings: none!
Wc: 983
Divider by @pommecita
You stir in your sleep when you feel light kisses on your arm. "Good morning, love," He says, his morning voice making you smile as you turn around and place a kiss on his cheek, a smile adorning his lips. His arms wrap themselves around your waist as you both lay still, neither wanting to pull away from the embrace.
"I'm going to go for a shower," You say against his neck, his hands coming to your hips as he massages them. "Can I join?" His tone teasing as you consider the idea. "I fear if you do, we won't make it out of the bathroom for quite a bit," A smirk forms on his lips as you get out of bed, his hand still clinging to yours.
"I don't mind!" He calls out as you flip him off, not bothering to turn around as you shut the door behind you. After the calming shower, you wrap your body in a fluffy white towel as you squeeze out the excess water from your hair, letting it air dry.
You start to brush your teeth as you hear the bathroom door opening. Tom enters in only his boxers as he makes his way to you, arms wrapping around your towel cladded body as you lean back against him. You smile at him through the reflection you mouth frothy with the toothpaste as he smiles back at you.
You bend over to spit out the toothpaste as Tom pretends to fuck you from behind as laughs erupt from your mouth. You lean back up, slapping him across his chest as he smiles innocently at you. Going on your tippy toes, your arms loop around his neck and place a kiss on his lips, a few actually, as you both smile in between them.
"I feel like making pancakes, do you want blueberries or chocolate chips in yours?" You ask him whilst applying lip balm on your lips as he turns the shower on. "Chocolate chips please," He grins at you as give him a thumbs up and walk out picking out an outfit.
You pull back the curtains revealing dark clouds that littered across the sky of Brooklyn. You smile to yourself knowing today was going to full of cuddles and watching Harry Potter films with Tom. Walking down stairs, a thought plagued your mind.
You wanted to go live on Instagram as you felt as if it had been too long since the last time you did one. You leaned your phone up against a fruit bowl as you start the live. "Hey guys!" You smile as you watch thousands of people join in a matter of seconds.
You then continued to pull out the ingredients to make pancakes as you answer some of the questions that people asked. Tom walks down a few minutes later, wondering who you were talking to as your voice travelled upstairs.
He sees you in the kitchen, your back towards him as you talk about the weather. He decided to surprise you so he slowly walked up behind you and wraps his arms around you as you slightly jump. "Fucks sake, you scared me!" You sulked as Tom laughs, peppering the side of your face with kisses as your hands go up to his arms around your neck.
"Oh shit," You silently curse as you freeze, remembering you were still live on Instagram, "What?" He asks confused. You discreetly glance back and mentally face palm yourself as your phone was directly aimed at the two of you which meant that thousands of people witnessed it and most definitely concluded that you and Tom were together, which was very much the truth.
"I'm live on Insta," You whisper as you feel Tom physically pause as well, probably processing your words. He turns his head and makes eye contact with himself on your phone as he awkwardly chuckles. "Oh hey.." He trails off as you burst out laughing. "I'm going to go put a shirt on," Tom quickly says as he runs up stairs to get one.
You watch as comments blow up and you couldn't contain your smile. Everyone was going crazy as they flooded the comments with questions. You hear Tom walk back down, a shirt on his previously naked upper body as you hold out you hand and he takes is. "Well, guess it's out," He chuckles as the both of you read the comments.
Tom leans his hand against the counter as you rest your head on his arm. "Shit, I almost forgot the pancakes!" You panic as you go back to the stove and continue cooking the batter. You and Tom kept your relationship as private as you could, fans speculated that you were dating each other but nothing was confirmed, well until the live of course.
"How long have you two been together?" Tom reads out loud as you get plates for the two of you. "3 years now is it?" You say as Tom thinks about it, "Yeah, 4 years coming this September," he smiles. You come up beside him, resting your chin on your hands that were on the counter as you read through the comments, too immersed to notice that Tom was staring down at you with a huge smile on his face.
A comment mentioning how Tom is looking at you makes you look behind you, "What?" You shyly laugh as he says nothing, shaking his head. Tom takes over with making the pancakes and eventually they are done. "Well guys I'm going to end the live here and eat these pancakes with my wonderful boyfriend, bye!" You say as you end it.
You make eye contact with Tom as you both start laughing. He hugs you and kisses your forehead. "At least we don't have to keep hiding this in public anymore," He says as you agree with him.
#tom blyth#fanfiction#tom blyth x reader#tom blyth x you#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coriolanus x you#the hunger games#hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes#tom blyth x gf!reader
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i saw u were taking reqs for jacob elordi x reader so what about like cute, giggly morning sex if that makes sense
i’m so down bad for this man 🙏
Yessss ofcccc! Also making this husband and dad Jacob bc I need him so bad too :((( tysm lovey ~ also I didn’t do sex just him eating u out (sex w Jacob soon heheh)
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You woke up to the feeling of budding hands caress your cheek, the softness of his hands were enough to make you doze back into your interrupted sleep. Gentle motions sent waves of comfort down your spine.
Up and down, they graciously glided until you resorted to opening your tired eyes. the sight laid before you left you irresistibly smiling while squinting as the sunlight poured its beam to light up your bedroom. Creating an abundance of bright hues.
Your husband, Jacob, pierced his eyes at you with an enchanting grin that washed over his face; highlighting the esscense of his beauty that reminded you of one of the many reasons he charmed his way into your heart.
Jacob’s hand slowly retracted away from you as you shifted your limp body into a somewhat sitting position, letting your arched back rest on the bed headboard behind you.
“Good morning,” he whispered with radiant eyes.
You let out an amused sigh, your hands rubbing the remainder of sleep that was left inside. “Mmm, what time is it?”
He glanced at the tiny clock on the night side table, “half past seven.”
You groaned in realization that you could get away with thirty more minutes of rest before enduring your daily routine. Shuffling back down to let your head rest on your silk pillow, you admitted, “it’s too early, love.”
He paused and blinked slowly for a slight minute, moving closer to allow his hand to comb through your undone hair.
“Just missed you…” he almost sounded sorry as his tone was full of remorse for not being able to spend intimate moments like this with you all the time.
You knew what he was referring to.
Jacob’s schedule with acting had been extremely busy the past few months. Leaving him to fly out for specific casting calls or meeting with certain producers who admired his talented work. You were proud of him and wanted nothing more for him to continue succeeding in the field of film, but every time he had a last minute flight to catch, your heart ached with a familiar homesick feeling.
One that wouldn’t exit your soul until you got to reunite with your husband. Having the privilege of feeling his warmth and love in physical form was enchanting.
However, you were never alone.
Your little daughter, Lilly, kept you occupied and was the best form of sweet company. The spitting image of her father with her large curious brown eyes and silky chestnut locks, she was always there to remind you of him.
The two of you would lounge around your secluded house, watching movies, making crafts to gift for daddy when he would return home and FaceTiming him whenever he had the rare moment of free time.
And of course, there was Jacob’s beloved angel of a dog, Layla, who was an adorable companion that would cuddle beside you anytime you’d relax on the sofa and played long rounds of fetch with Lily in your large backyard. It was obvious she missed her loving owner just as much as you did.
“We missed you too,” he smiled at your courteous words, leaning to kiss your soft lips, letting his tongue swirl with yours. Loving the taste of your sweet mouth no matter what time of the day.
With no hesitation, his touch starved hands glided down to your tank top, gently tugging the straps down to reveal your chest.
“Jacob!” You exclaimed, followed by a quiet laugh, completely aware your daughter was most likely still sleeping in the room beside yours.
His hands cupped perfectly around your boobs, your nipples growing hard at the smooth contact that was the palms of his hands.
“Come on, baby,” his thick brows raised with his slick charm, “you think all those pictures you sent me while I was away is better than having the real thing right in front of me?
You blushed with hot, red cheeks as he brought up all the little things you’d do for him while the distance between the two of you left him aching for you.
Desperate times called for desperate measures.
“Oh hush you,” you playfully rolled your eyes, feeling him squeeze a tad bit tighter at your breasts.
“Mmm,” he hummed moving down to latch his mouth on one of your exposed boobs. Your nails clutching deep into his hair as his head laid on your chest. You dug deeper as his tongue circled in brisk motions. Leaving Jacob to pause for a swift moment.
“Ow,” he exaggerated in a comical tone. You ruffled his shaggy hair down to his forehead as he licked his lips. “I wasn’t done.”
“My bad,” you winked, letting a tiny yawn escape you.
“Well,” he purred, moving his body down to your stomach as he moved the sheets to go gently over his head. “I’ll just continue down here.”
“Babe,” you pleaded with pouty eyes. “I don’t wanna make too much noise.”
Jacob was just too irresistible.
He perpetually longed for your body laid in front of him. He constantly missed you at all times you were forcefully apart. Having the long awaited freedom of getting to spend a relaxing morning with you was more than a luxury to him.
“Don’t worry,” he assured you, stroking your thigh with his nimble fingertips, “our little love sleeps like an angel. She won’t hear us.”
You pretended to stall, placing a finger on your soft lips for effect. You knew the answer though and you didn’t have to think twice. You needed this—you craved this.
Giving him the look was the green light for the hungry man. He inched himself further down until he was hidden beneath the sheets and placed perfectly in between your bent thighs. The amount of small stubble he had neglected to shave gently tickled you and having no urge to fight off the feeling it provided, you couldn’t hold back a laugh.
“When’s the last time you shaved?” You snickered with amusement, hearing him groan as you lifted the sheets only to not receive a response from him, but his face diving deep into your exposed parts.
He was smooth with his actions, he got straight to business and you could barely remember him taking off your panties.
A build up of heat and tingly vibrations inside of you began to stir your sex drive into motion. Having Jacob’s tongue wither it’s way into your partially wet lips was a luxurious feeling, he knew how to let your tension go by the ways of his mouth.
Your clit was caressed and it felt loving. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t sloppy. It was perfect because he did it with love.
“Taste so good, baby,” you heard a vacant mumble in between his swirls, he always made sure to praise you. After all, you were his main source of inspiration and the very thing that kept him striving for more.
You were his wife; the woman he vowed to spend the rest of his happy life with. You were the woman who gave him the best gift of all; his daughter. With everything he ever did to your body that pleasured you to no end, he always wanted to reassure you that you were more than a heavenly angel to him.
“Keep going, honey,” you tried your best to surpass a moan from exiting you, but failed miserably. Jacob’s mouth playfully tugged around the surface of your wet inner parts, something he knew you adored and always left you with insane build up.
Warm waves flowed down to your inner core, passion from Jacob’s mouth worked its magic into always providing you with a quick release.
You breathed heavily as his tongue surfaced deep into you, feeling so stimulated it reminded you of the old days when the two of you had a free house and could be as obnoxious as you pleased.
He made you feel warm. The pressure of his suctioning lips gave you sanctuary bliss.
You craved nothing more than the simple action of cuming on his face. Watching him suck all of your juices as you’d pour out your ecstasy was more rewarding than anything else in the heat of the moment.
As you could feel yourself letting go into a haze of vibrations there was a small, frail knock at the door.
“Shit,” you heard rumble from under the sheets as you slid up with the most energy you could gather while Jacob eagerly covered you back up with your undergarments.
You slid your tank top back to cover your chest, seeing Jacob mentally cursing at the interrupted moment, but smiling because he knew who was at the door waiting to be allowed entry.
Regaining composure and trying to wipe any of the remaining stamina left in the two of you, Jacob called out, “come in.”
Your daughter slowly opened the door, looking energetic as ever as she appeared to be ready to start the day. Her movement turned quick as her face lit up like a Christmas tree upon seeing her Father. She was thrilled that he was home and raced to his opened arms as she jumped on the bed.
“Daddy, I’m so glad you’re back,” she cried out with glee as Jacob smothered her with his large arms. She still seemed so tiny in comparison to him.
“Of course, angel,” he planted a kiss on her head, smooching loudly as she nuzzled deep into his bearing chest.
She looked up at him with doe eyes, revealing how much she missed her dad, “Layla and I missed you so so much.” It made him chuckle at how much she grew to adore that dog. She was nurturing just like her beautiful mother.
Your heart melted at the scene and Jacob grinned at you with a beaming smile before he turned to Lilly again. “Oh sweetheart, I can promise you daddy missed you more.”
“And what about me?” You poked the young girl, who in response, leaped onto your lap as you kissed her cheek.
“Good morning, my love,” you showered her with affection as she flung her arms around your neck. Slowly cradling her in a soothing rhythm before she left your embrace to sit in front of you and Jacob.
“Sweetie,” Jacob gestured her attention back to him as he began to slowly dress himself, throwing on a loose throwover you placed on the laundry basket next to his side of the bed. “Why don’t you go downstairs and feed Layla and then mummy and I will be right with you, okay?”
She nodded, the loose braids she slept in swayed with her motion. “Yes daddy,” she crawled off the bed as she happily ran out of your room and into the long corridors outside.
Jacob chuckled and shook his head, finding himself so relieved to be back home with his girls. He faced you as you slowly stretched your way out of bed and shuffled yourself to where he was slowly fixing himself up. You wrapped your arms around his waist as your head laid on his back. He shifted your arms around to where you could view his ecstatic face.
“Don’t worry,” he looked down at your twinkling eyes that never stopped sparkling, “I’m not finished with you yet, angel.”
You bit your lip, “I’m looking forward to it.”
What a beautiful morning it was turning out to be at the Elordi household.
#jacob elordi#jacob elordi x reader#jacob elordi x y/n#jacob elordi fanfic#jacob elordi fanfiction#saltburn#felix catton#felix catton x you#felix catton x y/n#felix catton x reader#saltburn 2023#jacob elordi smut#nate jacobs x reader
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Hey, got a Matt y/n request.
You go off your pill without Matt knowing because you want to have a family with Matt. Matt notices you're ovulating because you smell different and tries to get you pregnant.
#daddy and mommy kink
#cumpi€
#Matt the animal in bed
nonnie, you summoned my inner whore, and she has answered.
this is absolute filth with bits of angst and fluff sprinkled in. please enjoy (& thank you). 🖤
warning: contains explicit sexual content (minors please dni), swearing, and mentions of pregnancy
word count: 3k
ours.
There was something different about you and it was driving Matt absolutely fucking insane. From the second he woke up this morning, he had this carnal desire for you that he couldn’t seem to tame. Your scent lingered on your pillow and Matt found himself burying his face into it as his hand searched for the softness of your skin, but all he found was the absence of warmth on his fingertips. He couldn’t hardly focus as he got ready for work, and it only got worse throughout the day.
As noon rolled around, he was elbow deep in case work and in the middle of going over a document with Foggy when he caught wind of your scent on the street. He immediately paused, cocking his head to the side slightly as he tracked your path from two blocks away to their office. By the time you had reached their floor and before you could even knock, Matt was swinging the door open and pulling you in so quickly, it made you dizzy.
“Matt! I almost dropped everything!”
You giggled softly as you readjusted your grip on the carryout bag containing all your orders and the tray of drinks. Matt’s tongue darted out to lick his lips as his hands remained firmly gripped on your hips, forcing a tight lipped smile on his mouth.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Heard you coming. What’s all this?”
“Well I figured you guys were swamped and hadn’t eaten yet so I brought lunch.”
Matt’s heart should’ve swelled with adoration and gratitude at the sweet gesture. But instead, a very different part of his body was swelling and he was struggling to retain his composure.
“Y/N Murdock you are a goddamn saint.”
Another giggle escaped your mouth at Foggy’s comment, and Matt squeezed his eyes shut behind his crimson glasses as he did his best to swallow back a moan.
“Matt? You alright?”
Matt turned his head slightly in Karen’s direction, a slight panic rising up in his chest as he stumbled over his words.
“Uh y-yeah, why?”
“Because you’ve got a death grip on Y/N/N, and you look like you’re in pain.”
Matt could feel everyone’s eyes on him, including you, and he all of a sudden realized just how tight his hold was on you. He cleared his throat as he released you, taking half a step back as he tried to fix his features into an expression of nonchalance.
“I’m alright, city's just a bit loud today. That’s all.”
Thirty minutes had never felt so fucking long in his entire life. Matt’s knee bounced uncontrollably underneath the table as you laughed and caught up with Foggy and Karen. Everytime a breeze blew through the open window, more of your scent wrapped around Matt like a decadent haze, and he had to stuff his mouth full of food to mask the reaction it was pulling out of him. He could feel sweat forming along his hairline the longer he sat next to you. Matt had always found you desirable, but there was something different about you today that had his half hard cock aching with need.
He racked his brain for any kind of excuse to get Foggy and Karen to leave, even just for five minutes so he could take you in his office and fuck you over his desk. Matt had to physically stop himself from shuddering as you leaned over to press a soft kiss to his jawline, digging his blunt nails into his own palm as he fought back the urge to slip his hand beneath the dress you were wearing. His head was so clouded with lust he hadn’t heard a word you’d said, and his eyebrows suddenly knit in confusion as he noticed your presence by the door.
“Where are you going?”
“Back to work. I just told you I have a meeting in fifteen minutes?”
“You did?”
A slight pout formed on your lips as you made your way back over to Matt, placing your hand gently on his cheek and letting out a soft noise as his burning skin touched your palm.
“Baby, are you sure you’re alright? You’re really warm.”
“I’m always warm.”
“Yeah, but you’re like extra warm right now, and you’re sweating.”
“It’s just…hot.”
Matt tried his hardest to appear normal, flashing you a half smile as he turned his head to gently press a kiss to your wrist.
Fuck. That made it worse.
“Okay…well, if you do start to feel bad, please go home.”
“I will.”
Matt could feel your attention directly on him and the roll of your eyes before you turned to Foggy and Karen with a playful smile on your lips.
“Will one of you please send my stubborn husband home if he gets worse?”
“You got it, Y/N/N.”
Matt swallowed thickly as you gave Foggy a grateful smile before bending down to press a soft kiss to his lips. He figured once you left, he would finally be able to breathe again. All he had to do was focus back on the case, and the rest of the day would fly by so he could go home to you; so he could finally have you. He just had to make it a few more hours. He could do that. Right?
Wrong. Very fucking wrong. The sound of the clock ticking through the office seemed to taunt him about how much time wasn’t moving as fast as he wanted it to. He couldn’t focus at all. His fingers trailed over the same rows of braille repeatedly, until his fingertips almost felt raw, but he still couldn’t decipher a fucking letter. He couldn’t put them together in his brain. All he could think about was you and burying himself inside you. He made it two hours after you left before he was bolting out of the office with a half assed excuse about being sick, frantically calling you on the way out and begging for you to meet him at home.
The second you stepped through the door, Matt was on you. The front door slammed shut as he pinned you against it, ripping your keys and purse out of your hands to toss them carelessly aside. His hands roamed everywhere, gripping and kneading every bit of you they could find. Eventually you were able to break apart from him, pressing your palms firmly against his chest as his mouth eagerly sought you out again.
“Matthew Murdock, what has gotten into you?”
“I…I don’t know.”
Matt panted heavily as he licked his lips, blank eyes darting back and forth in a frenzied manner. You brought one of your hands up to cup his jaw gently and he instantly leaned into your touch, a soft whine sounding in the back of his throat.
“I thought you were sick?”
“Not sick. Just need you. Needed you all day, sweetheart. Please.”
It was then that you noticed Matt’s pupils were blown wide open, and felt the evidence of his need against your lower stomach. Your lips parted slightly in an ‘o’ shape, finally putting all of the pieces of his odd behavior together in your head.
“Oh.”
“Please, sweetheart. I need you so fucking badly.”
“I…um…we…we can’t right now, Matty. But I can-”
“Why?”
Matt almost sounded like he was in pain as he tilted his head to the side to stare at you, and the anguish was plastered clear over his face. It made you feel guilty to see him this way, and you were worried how he would react to what you had been keeping from him.
“Because…I…I went off the pill. And we don’t…we don’t have anything.”
Matt’s face instantly contorted in confusion, placing his palm on the door by the side of your head as he tried to process your words.
“What? When?”
“A month ago.”
“Why?”
“Because…I just…didn’t like what it was doing to my body.”
You were hoping that Matt was so far gone he wouldn’t notice your lie, but the disappointed look on his features made your heart start to pound uncontrollably.
“Can you answer my question without lying to me.”
You internally winced at the edge in his voice. You had never lied to him before, and when he had told you the truth about being the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen, you both made a promise to never lie to one another about anything. Part of your vows were to always be honest, and you felt guilty that you had messed that one up.
“That wasn’t a lie. I don’t like what it’s doing to my body. That’s just…not the main reason.”
“And what is?”
“I want a family, Matt. I know we’ve talked about it briefly, and you said you wanted one too, but I wasn’t sure if you were ever gonna slow down enough to focus on starting one with me. I just thought…I thought if it happened, you’d be so happy you wouldn’t be mad that I didn’t tell you. I…I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I should have told you what I was doing. I just…I want this so badly, Matty. I keep having dreams about it, it’s all I can think about lately, it’s just…like this need that’s taken over. I don’t know how to explain it.”
Matt could hear the sincerity in your voice and in your heart’s rhythm. His face softened as he listened to you, and a feeling of guilt crept up on him. He had promised you a family once the two of you got married. He did want that. There had just been so much going on lately, the idea of starting one hadn’t occurred to him.
As he opened his mouth to speak, he caught a taste of your arousal on his tongue, and suddenly realization struck him like fucking lightning.
You were ovulating.
That’s what this was. You had been on birth control the entire time you’d known Matt, so he’d never experienced this with you before. This is what was driving him fucking insane. Your body was practically screaming at him, begging him for a baby, and fuck if his body wasn’t listening. A quiet gasp left your mouth when you noticed the darkened look in Matt’s eyes. You knew that look; you saw it when the Devil came home and wanted to play.
“Matty-”
Matt ignored the warning in your voice as he crashed his lips into yours, grabbing onto the back of your head to hold you in place as he nipped at your bottom lip and soothed the sting with his tongue. In a flash he’d ripped your dress over your head and attached his lips to your neck, licking, sucking, and biting his way down to your collarbones. His fingers deftly unhooked the clasp of your bra and tugged it down your shoulders, pulling a surprised gasp from your mouth as the soft fabric of his shirt brushed over your sensitive nipples.
“Matty…what ah…what are you doing?”
Matt’s voice was dangerously low as he moved his lips up to nibble on the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath causing a shiver to cascade down your spine.
“I’m gonna fuck you until you’re pregnant.”
An obscene moan left your lips and shot straight down to Matt’s cock. A quiet growl sounded in your ear as he lifted you up and trapped you against the door with his hips, rutting into you as his cock strained painfully against the fabric of his pants. He could feel some of your arousal seep through the material from your soaked panties, and you moaned loudly when he rubbed against you just right.
Your fingers were frantic as they clawed at his tie, nearly tearing half the buttons off his shirt as you practically ripped it off his chest. Reaching down between your bodies, you swiftly pulled the leather from Matt’s belt, unbuttoning and unzipping his pants as you fervently shoved them down his thighs along with his briefs just enough to free him. Matt groaned loudly as the cool air met his weeping tip, using his legs to support you as his hands completely tore your panties off your hips.
Matt didn’t waste a second, immediately penetrating the warmth of your slick walls with his thick cock. A loud moan tore through each of you, echoing throughout the entire apartment.
“Hang on.”
Matt’s voice was rough and gravely as he ordered you, and you whimpered in response as you locked your legs around his waist and gripped onto his shoulders tightly. Everytime he was inside you felt euphoric, but God this time felt different. He couldn’t pinpoint if it was because he was extra sensitive from being so turned on all day, knowing what he was about to do to you, the idea of how much everything was about to change for the two of you, or what, but it unlocked something inside him that had Matt fucking you savagely against the front door.
A tiny piece of him felt guilty for taking you like this, knowing this could be the time that resulted in the creation of your child. The good Catholic boy in him knew he should’ve made this special and been more romantic, taken his time to savor every second of this beautiful moment. But the Devil in him wanted you and wanted you now. He wanted to plant himself in the deepest part of you, claim your womb for everyone to see, because sometimes that ring wasn’t fucking enough.
Everyone would know that you were his. They wouldn’t be able to miss your swollen belly that carried his child.
As Matt’s grunts and moans in your ear became more feral, his pace got impossibly faster and brutal. He was practically slamming you into the door with each precise snap of his hips, reaching that spot inside you only he could find, tearing the loudest cries of his name from your chest. The only other thing he could hear besides your pretty sounds were the echoes of your skin slapping together and your heart thundering in his ears.
“You gonna make me a daddy, sweetheart? Gonna be a good girl and do that for me?”
“Y-yes…”
“Yes you are. Because I’m gonna come so deep in this tight little cunt of yours, over and over and over-“
Matt accentuated each of his words with powerful, quick snaps of his hips into yours.
“And I’m not letting you leave this apartment until I know for sure that it took. You understand, pretty girl?”
All you could do was moan in response as you dug your nails into Matt’s broad shoulders, letting your head fall back against the door as he fucked you how he wanted. You were completely at his mercy like this, all you could do was take it, but God it had been so long since you’d had him like this.
“You want me to make you a mommy, sweetheart? Hm?”
“Yes! Please, Matty…please.”
“Beg for it.”
Matt bared his teeth in a snarl as he dug his fingertips roughly into the flesh of your hips, marking you just as much on the outside as he planned to do on the inside. You could hardly form a coherent thought from the way he was fucking you. You were getting dangerously close to falling over that edge, and you desperately wanted him to jump with you.
“Come on, sweetheart. Let me hear it. Beg me. Beg me for a baby.”
“God…please…”
“No. Not him, me.”
“Fuck Matty-I…please…please, I want it. I want you to…g-give me a baby, please.”
“My baby. Tell me you want my baby. Let me hear it.”
You could tell Matt was close based on his falter in rhythm. His thrusts were getting sloppy, and the devil’s edge to his voice was slipping away into a needy whine. He was begging you to beg him.
“Want your baby, Matty. Just yours. Ours. Please, baby. Please give it to me.”
You gripped onto the back of Matt’s neck, pulling him in for a searing passionate kiss. Matt let out a loud yell as he finally spilled inside you, his hips stuttering as he fucked his seed as deep into you as he could, whimpering breathlessly at the way you clenched around his sensitive cock.
Both of you were sweaty, panting messes as you came down from your collective highs. Matt kept a tight grip on your hips, stumbling backwards until his back hit the wall, sliding down slowly until he let himself fall onto the floor with you on his lap. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, closing his eyes as the haze he had been in all day seemed to slowly disappear, allowing his senses to finally clear.
“Matty?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
A smile stretched across his mouth as he pulled back slightly, staring blankly at you in pure adoration.
“I love you.”
He closed his eyes as he leaned into your palm that cradled his jaw, letting out a deep exhale through his nose as the guilt started to set in.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“That. I…I should’ve made that more special.”
“Matty-“
“I fucked your mom against the front door is not exactly how I want to tell our kid they were created.”
Smacking your palm against his chest, you immediately erupted into a fit of giggles that Matt couldn’t help joining.
“Matthew! First of all, our child is never going to want to know how they were created. Second of all, you have nothing to be sorry for. I love you, and I know you love me. And we love each other so much, we decided to create a life together made up of both of us. Don’t you think that’s special?”
Matt took a deep breath as his tongue quickly wet his lips, nodding his head slowly as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist.
“Yeah, I do.”
“Good. So do I. Now, if you really feel the need to redeem that Catholic guilt of yours, we can increase our chances in bed and be as sappy as you want.”
Matt rolled his eyes as a playful smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, leaning in to nudge his nose against yours.
“Heaven forbid I try to show my wife a little romance.”
“Romance away, Murdock. Take me to bed and put a baby in me.”
#matt murdock#matt murdock x y/n#matt murdock x you#matt murdock x reader#matt murdock x fem!reader#matt murdock x female reader#matt murdock x f!reader#matt murdock fic#matt murdock smut#matt murdock request#daredevil#daredevil fic#daredevil smut#daredevil request
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Soft touches- Colby Brock
summary: you and colby had just started dating and he realizes how much he loves receiving affection from you.
a/n: guys i am literally begging you please give me suggestions or requests literally anything. Twd, snc, criminal minds, supernatural, i recently got really into Johnnie guilbert so I'll write about him too, literally please i am begging you guys i have 79 drafts and no idea what to post 💀
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You were in your room editing a video while on live. You were answering questions and laughing as you were telling stories to your fans. There was a small knock on your door.
"Come in." You say. You turn your head to see your boyfriend walking in. "Hi baby." You say, a smile immediately crossing your face at just the sight of him. "Hey, whatcha doin?" He presses a quick kiss to your head before looking at your screen. "Editing a video on live." You say.
You glance at the chat and its full of compliments and comments on the two of you. "Thank you for th compliments guys!" You say with a smile.
"Babe look at my new hoodie!" He steps back and shows it off. "I like that one it looks good on you." You say. "Everything look good on me." He says in the same voice he would use fir Colleen, causing a laugh out of you.
"You're right everything does look good on you." You say. "How much longer are you gonna be on live?" Colby asks. "Uhm maybe about twenty minutes? Why?" You ask. "Jake wants to have a movie night and is insisting on everyone being there." Colby says with a playful eye roll.
"Okay, I'll be done in a bit and I'll come down." You say. "Okay." He goes to walk away but you call him back. "C'mere." You pull him down by the chain he was wearing and you give him a kiss. "Be down soon." You say before focusing your attention back to the screen.
He walks off and you glance at the comments.
"did you see how he looked at her?"
"Literally the cutest couple out there."
"I would have died if someone kissed me like that."
"Colby move its my turn."
You smile reading them answering more questions that pop up abd such. Finally you ended your live about twenty minutes later and there was another knock. "Yeah?" You say as you get up from your chair. And walk to grab your phone from the charger by your bed.
"Brotha come in it is time for movies!" You hear Jake say. "I'm on my way, I just ended live." You say. You turn back around and Jake is standing right in front of you. "Bruva. We must go now." You laugh at the British accent he's talking with as he grabs your arm and pulls you all the way downstairs.
You sit next to Colby, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek and snuggling up to him while Jake picks out the first movie. Colby pauses for a second before wrapping his arm around you. "You ok?" You ask while looking up at him. "Yeah, sorry." He smiles.
"Aww look at the cute couplee. You disgust me." Corey says. You laugh at the face he makes. "Would you like to join us brother?" Colby says. "Really?"He says in a funny voice. You and Colby both open up the arm you have free. Corey comes over and plops on the two of you.
"Oh my god Corey." You say laughing, trying to keep him from falling off the couch. "This is really great thank you guys." Corey says. "Of course Corey." You say with a small laugh. He actually ends up staying like yhat for a little bit before getting up abd complaining about his back.
After many many movies, Just about everyone was asleep except the two of you. "Y'know I love you right?" Colby asks. "Of course." You say looking to him. "I know sometimes I act weird about physical touch. I dont mean too.' He says. "I know, just let me know if you ever get uncomfortable." You say. "I dont think I can with you." He says.
You smile as you cuddle up next to him, feeling his arms tighten around you. The two of you fall asleep on the couch, along with everyone else.
#colby brock x y/n#sam golbach#jake webber#corey scherer#sam and colby#twd#criminal minds#spn#pleas give me ideas#dean winchester#sam winchester#fanfic#tumblr#colby brock
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You and your boyfriend Iwaizumi had been lounging on the couch for the past hour or two, binging your favorite movie series.
You had gotten up to go make a snack for the both of you when you hear you boyfriend’s voice call out; “hey love?”
pausing what you were doing you answer him;“yea?”
“can you get my phone for me? I think someone texted me.”
“sure” you hadn’t heard his phone go off, but you shuffle around, finishing what you were doing before bringing it to him.
you take a glance down at his phone as you walk towards the living room. His lock screen was a picture you had sent him while you were babysitting two young kids.
You had found some face paint and had let the kids draw freely on your face. You had a mustache and a few strange flowers on your cheek.
You had made duck lips to take a photo and had sent it to him. You had forgotten about the phot about five minutes later after one of the children had decided to eat the houseplant.
You gently toss the phone at him. He catches it and you glower at him. “I could have given you a much better Lock Screen picture than that”
he smoothed his face into one of innocence. He looked up at you, “but you look cute”
Huffing at his voice you turn away and walk back into the kitchen before calling out, “I still could have given you a better one.”
there is a pause before you hear faintly from the other room, “… ok send it over”
——————three days later———————
“hey Zumi! Your phone whent off, do you want me to bring it to you?” You were lounging around in your bed when his phone went off. He had gone the his office to finish up some paperwork.
“sure! Thank you [Name]” you pulled yourself off of the bed and started making your way to the office. His phone went off once more glancing down at it you see it’s a text from Oikawa.
“Of cou— you didn’t change the Lock Screen.” Behind that text from Oikawa was that gosh darn picture.
“noo?”
Standing in the doorway you make eye contact with him. “Are you asking or telling me?”
He mouth opens and closes like a goldfish for a moment before he bursts out, “but my love! You looked so cute!”
you gasp in mock outrage, turning on his phone you shove the lock screen right in front of his face. Holding back a giggle you yell, “I look like a squirrel!!!”
He reaches up to grab you wrist. He pulled it down and kisses it. “but I still love you either way!”
“WOW” by this point you are full on laughing. “Well I can’t get too mad at you.”
He looks up at you, and with mild distrust in his voice he tentatively asks “why?”
With an ear to ear grin on your face, you pull out your own phone and show him your lock screen, “cause I got this photo of you as mine.”
“EW. What the crap! Did Oikawa send you this?” He physically recoiled from the photo.
“yeah.” You can barely breathe through you laughs.
“change it!”
“no you look cute in it!!”
You looked at you before almost lunging at you. “YOU LITTLE—“
The two of you were rolling on the floor, wrestling for possession of the phone.
#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu#haikyuu scenarios#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu imagines#reqs open#haikyu x reader#fluff#the goldfish speak#haikyuu hcs#haikyuu iwaizumi#haikyu x you#haikyu x y/n#haikyu x male reader#haikyuu x female reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n
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In a vial around your pretty little neck📿🍷
AFAB Reader x Miguel O'Hara
*image not mine, from Pinterest, credit to original owner, if you are the owner let me know and I can credit you or delete*
TW: MINORS DNI, BLOOD, NEEDLE DRAWING BLOOD, SUGGESTIVE SEXUAL CONTENT
Synopsis: you and Miguel are dating. You two want to kick your outward display of devotion to each other up a notch. Your idea: wearing jewelry containing each other's blood.
The Valentine's Day spinoff I posted as a continuation of your relationship
A/N: More Miguel bc the brain rot is real lol 🧛🏾
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You two laid together in the dark at his place (practically yours by now too), the 3 am traffic quietly humming below. You and Miguel had been dating for a year. One passionate, lustful, magical, sex-crazed year. You two went out for hibachi tonight and it wasn't long after that until your brand new dress and heels decorated his bedroom floor.
"Happy Anniversary," he whispered, planting a kiss into your temple.
"Mmmm..." you rolled over, draping your bare figure over his, which caused him to groan and grab you around the back of your neck to pull you in for another kiss. He was about to drift off but he didn't mind losing another 30 minutes to finish what you were starting...
You had something of an interest in the macabre. You had a little emo phase in junior high growing up and dark things like horror and true crime interested you. You loved Tim Burton and Edgar Allan Poe and Halloween was your favorite holiday.
You were also big into Twilight at one point and now that you were dating a guy with fangs it was like your ultimate vampire fantasy come true. You weren't a full blown goth, but while you were scrolling on your phone the other day, you came across an idea that seemed so edgy yet irresistible and sexy.
This fiery relationship you started with Miguel made you feel different. You felt alive and liberated and emboldened to try new things. And it filtered into your physical relationship with one another and he was not complaining one bit. Not at ALL. He never had a partner like you who made him feel so fulfilled and satiated. You made him feel like a man.
"I want a symbol of your devotion," you said breathlessly as he kissed your neck.
"Hmmm.." he paused, sucking a little on one spot, causing you to quiver as the skin turned splotchy red. "What did you have in mind?" He said in a sleepy voice.
"Jewelry..." you started but then evolved into a high pitched gasp as you felt his lips.
Miguel laughed into your skin. "I should've known you'd say that."He sighed and stroked your hair behind your ear.
"It's kind of a crazy idea, just bear with me."
Miguel smiled. "So far I've loved all your ideas. I'm listening."
You look at him with a smile as though you're planning something diabolical. "Blood jewelry."
When you saw Miguel's expression turn skeptical, you giggled.
"Hear me out. Remember how Billy Bob Thornton and Angelina Jolie wore vials of each other's blood when they were together? I wanna do that with you. We can find someone professional to do it and get our blood drawn together. I know it sounds weird and freaky but wouldn't that be so hot? Imagine me walking around with a necklace with your blood in it at all times. "
"Isn't that kind of superstitious?" He smirked. "That seems like something a really sexually charged couple would do at the peak of their romance only for it to fizzle out. I wouldn't want to inadvertently put a curse on this amazing thing we have going."
"Haha it's not witchcraft, babe! I just wanted something unique. I want something of you wherever I go. And I know we're not ready for marriage just yet. But I am committed to you. A hundred percent. People used to do blood oaths to signify the deepest sacrifice and devotion."
"Like the Mafia?"
You burst out laughing. "Babe, we're NOT in the Mafia. Just deeply in love until we take that next step someday when we're both ready..."
Miguel's face softened as you went on with your explanation and realized you were serious. His heart skipped a beat and his face grew warm. He traced your collarbone with his finger.
"Yeah? You'd want my blood to wear around your neck? And I could have the same from you?..."
You nodded looking into his crimson eyes, eager for an answer.
Miguel scoffed and shook his head. "Baby, you are crazy...."
He pressed his lips to yours. "But that's why I love you."
You break into a smile "Is, that a yes?"
"Mhmmm.." Miguel sighed, then looked down at you, draping an arm around your midriff. "Let me handle the lab side of things. I'll ask one of the technicians at my work to do it because if we're really doing this, we're doing it right. I'm NOT going to let us catch a disease on account of your insane little idea," he pressed the tip of your nose with this finger playfully.
"Coming from the guy with literal fangs!" You teasingly squish one of the spare pillows into his face. "I thought you'd be into blood."
Miguel removes the pillow from his face, definitely fully awake now. "They're paralyzing fangs, sweetheart. I inject venom. I don't suck people's blood."
He suddenly pounces on you causing you to squeal excitedly. "You're gonna pay for that."
"Oh yeah?" You smile up at him biting your lip, running your hands along his biceps as he cages you in underneath him. "How's that?"
"You're not walking tomorrow."
Your last train of thought vacated your mind as he fucked you into oblivion.
---------few days later---------
You sat nervously in Miguel's lab at HQ, clicking one of his pens over and over. You were waiting for his lab tech to do the blood draw. Miguel chose a signet ring to wear on his left pinky with your blood in the center stone, and you chose a necklace with a tiny, heart shaped bottle pendant to contain his blood.
Miguel walked over to you, squatting down to your level as you remained sitting on a lab stool, running his large hands along your thighs. "Nervous already?" He asked with a half smile.
"Is it a bad time to admit I don't like needles?"
Miguel laughed. "How on Earth did you survive getting all your tattoos then?" He ran a hand along your thigh piece that was poking out from under your skirt.
"That's different, mister. Tattoo needle pain is way more tolerable than medical needle pain."
Miguel shook his head. "That makes zero sense."
"You wouldn't know!" You scoff.
Miguel chuckled and then kissed your forehead. "I'll hold your hand, babe. Don't worry. If you want, we don't have to do this."
You smile and close your eyes as you feel him kiss your forehead and wrap your arms around him as he lays his head in your lap. "Thanks babe. I'm not backing out now though."
The lab tech walks in carrying a small phlebotomy tray. She's a short, slight woman named Trish who looks to be in her 40s with a blond pixie cut, almost like Tinkerbell.
"Who's first?" She asks with a grin. This was the first ever blood draw she's done for a couple wanting to wear it as a sign of devotion, but hey, she's not judging you two for your kinks. When Miguel offered her extra OT to come in on her day off, she happily obliged.
Miguel noted your nervous expression and rolled up the sleeve of his crew neck sweater first.
His blood draw was quick and easy. His face in the same stoic expression the whole time. He had to inject himself with Rapture on a daily basis so needles were no big deal to him.
He gave you an encouraging smile as he rolled his sleeve back down covering his teal bandage.
You felt your insides liquify as Trish walked over to you and wrapped the orange tourniquet tightly around your arm. Miguel squeezed your thigh harder and reached over and took your free hand in his.
"Look at me, don't look at the needle," he muttered.
You gulped and looked at him, staring into his eyes and he gave your thigh another sympathetic squeeze. You kept staring at him, trying to focus on his dreamy face. His sculpted brows, bold cheekbones, his chiseled jaw, his Adam's apple. He was easy on the eyes for sure.
God am I lucky you thought. Then your stomach fell as he pressed his lips tightly into the back of your hand, bracing you for the pain, and you felt that uncomfortable tight pinch as the needle punctured the sensitive skin in the crook of your arm and entered your vein.
You sucked in air between your teeth, gritting them together.
"Sorry, hun..." Trish says.
Miguel's eyes find yours, his lips still buried in the back of your hand, his free hand still gripping your thigh, giving you little pulses of encouragement as the blood began to collect in the vial.
As you focus on him and his face you never got tired of looking at, suddenly you felt a weird twinge of arousal staring low in your belly, combined with the pinch and discomfort of the needle in your other arm. You willed your body to release itself into the sensation, suddenly your cheeks get hot, electricity rushing to your crotch. You take a deep breath in, your breasts heaving slowly, causing the exposed round tops of your cleavage to push against your black knit top, causing the tip of the fabric to recede downward ever so slightly.
Miguel knows you well by now and notices how your demeanor shifts when you're getting turned on. He stops pressing his lips so hard on the back of your hand and begins to soften. He slowly raises his head, dragging his lips against the back of your hand, his bottom lip catches on your skin, slowly pulling it down, exposing the bottom row of his teeth.
You look at him and gently cock your head to the side, your lips parting slightly as you take another deep breath in.
Miguel's jaw tenses when he realizes your body and mind are going exactly where he thinks they are going.
"Fuck." He mouths to you. His eyes hungry as they focus on your bulging breasts trying to spring themselves free from your slutty black top. The vein in his forearm protrudes as he clenches his fist.
"All done." Trish removes the needle and begins wrapping you with a matching teal bandage. You sigh with relief and then let out a quiet wince as Miguel's hand on your thigh closes around it even tighter than before , knuckles turning white, giving you a small preview of the pent up lust he plans to unleash on you on top of this lab table as soon as Trish is gone.
Trish adds the anti-coagulant to the samples and gives them a little shake. She gives you two the run down on proper storage for the blood and wishes you luck and shuffles out the door.
As she walks away, she hears the door to the lab click shut but quickly claps a hand across her mouth to stifle a laugh and speeds even faster down the hallway as the sound of your moans and Miguel's grunts begin to emerge from the other side.
------------
You and Miguel shakily emerge from the lab an hour later. He lets you lean on him for balance as you walk with a slight limp. He smiles devilishly down at you.
"Amor, you took it so well."
You scoff and look up at him as you both continue to walk, pouting your lips indicating you want a kiss from him. He gives you a tender peck.
"Hopefully Trish didn't hear," you say.
Miguel laughs. "I mean, you were absolutely incredible taking me that way," he winks. "But I was referring to the blood draw. I'm proud of you for facing your fear. "
You smile and bob your head. "Yeah, well, yanno, you being there made it a lot easier. Turns out I might actually have a thing for needles."
Miguel inhales sharply, simultaneously pulling you into him from the back, your ass pressing into his front, and he bites the top of your ear.
"Don't, get me riled up again."
You giggle at his bite and wiggle out of his hold, interlocking your fingers once again as you two stroll to his car.
The rest of the afternoon, Miguel reluctantly buys you coffee after you gave him the puppy dog eyes on your way to the blood jeweler you guys are hiring to make the necklace and ring. The corner of his mouth raises slightly as he sees you happily sipping your overly sweet frappuccino and munching on your egg bites in the passenger seat and he shakes his head as he takes a sip of his black Americano.
He nuzzles his chin in the back of your head as you two wait at the the jeweler's, as you point excitedly to the rings you'd like one day for your engagement ring in the glass display cases.
"This one, no wait I like that one too..agh, okay maybe more so this one actually...yeah that one's my new fav..."
He takes silent mental notes of each design, pressing a kiss into your hair once more.
------
A few weeks later, your jewelry is ready for pick up. You and Miguel walk out of the jeweler's again with two sleek black boxes. He snatches your box away from you, a smug look on his face at your disappointed, cute pout as he tells you he's going to present you with it properly tonight at dinner.
You sat on a barstool with your face in your hands as you watched Miguel cook you your requested meal of the evening: Pasta Pomodoro.
He kicked you out of the kitchen this time because he knows you can't resist scoooching past him long enough to tease him with your hips before he'd have you on the kitchen island, banging you senseless, and then the sauce would be burned and ruined.
You hummed in approval as you stuck one of the red sauce coated rigatonis in your mouth, savoring the taste of the fresh warm tomato sauce, garlic and basil as the hot pasta warmed your belly.
"You outdid yourself tonight babe. My compliments to the chef." Your mouth made a "mwah" sound as you did a chef's kiss motion with your hand.
Miguel smiled warmly at you as he took a swig of his wine. "Thank you, babe. Should we give each other what you've been begging me for all afternoon?"
You smiled and rubbed your hands together quickly "It's about damn time."
"You are SO dramatic." Miguel pressed a kiss into your forehead as he knelt in front of you holding the small black velvet box containing the necklace. Suddenly you felt butterflies in your stomach as he opened the box gingerly, pulling the necklace out of it, dangling it before your eyes, the glint from the silver stopper of the glass vial gave a slight twinkle as the light from the kitchen ceiling hit against it. The glass vial was filled with the dark red liquid. The blood that once flowed through the vein in Miguel's arm contained in the small heart shaped vial.
"My love..." He said, holding your hand, the necklace still dangling in his other hand. "I wrote a few words I wanted to say when I gave you this." He pulled out a small folded piece of paper from his shirt's breast pocket.
"Amor, I have too much I want to say. But I'll try to keep this as short as I can. You have changed my life for the better. When I lost Gabi I-"
His voice cracked. His Adam's apple raised as he was surprised at the sudden emotion his body gave him in response to his words.
"I thought I would never be happy again. But then you came into my life. Those beautiful eyes looking at me over the rim of a mug in the coffee shop where we met. You lit a fire under me that I never want to put out. Your eyes are a warm spell I never wish to be cured of. Your arms are a haven in which I wish to take up permanent residence. Your body is my altar I want to forever worship. Your laugh is a melody I never want to stop listening to."
"I know we plan to pledge ourselves to each other one day as husband and wife, but for now, I'll give you this part of me, as a sign of my devotion. My blood in this pendant that once ran through my vein, kept me alive. You, mí vida, you now keep my love alive. Remember what once belonged to me, now belongs to you for good."
Your eyes glisten with tears as he presses a soft kiss into your neck and traces a finger across the back of it, moving your hair out of the way. The metal from the chain tickles your neck and the vial with Miguel's blood is slightly cold as it rests in the middle of your chest. His blood resting above your heart.
You wipe your eyes and open the velvet box containing his ring. You hold the golden signet in your fingers, the middle of it a dark red with your blood. Miguel's handsome face looks into yours and presses a kiss into your palm to calm your nerves as you pledge your love to him.
"Miguel, I'm so lucky to have you. You're more than I could ever ask for. You're funny (when you want to be), and I wanna jump your bones every time I look at you...."
Miguel's cheeks turn pink and he shakes his head, chuckling as he presses another kiss into your hand.
"...But your soul is what I've fallen hopelessly in love with. You've captured my heart and I never want it to be freed. Your mind, your intelligence, your thoughts and the very essence of who you are is something I've found in no other and I don't wish to seek it anywhere else."
I present you this ring as a sign of my undying love and loyalty to you. I can't properly repay you for all you've given to me, so I'll give you something that used to be a part of me. This blood in this ring once flowed through my heart, and now I ask you to wear it on your hand and know that you are never far from me, my love."
His eyes are glossy with tears as you slip it on his left pinky and he can't hold back as he kisses you desperately, cupping your face with his hands. He pulls back after a few moments to study you, his crimson eyes running along your features and he runs a thumb tenderly along your cheeks.
"This is the best night of my life." He whispers as he presses his forehead to yours.
"I don't know about you, but I want dessert..." You whisper back, fiddling with the top button on his shirt.
"Ohhh....mí vida, you're getting it now." He presses a canine into his bottom lip and swoops you up in his arms in one motion, not tearing his face away from yours as he takes you to his room, dirty dishes and the half-drunk wine on the table be damned.
"Everything comes off, except this...." He takes the vial of your necklace in between his fingers.
You smile and kiss his lips again before returning your attention to taking off your blouse.
"I adore you."
"Mí vida, I adore you most of all."
The rest of the night is slow, sensual, orgasmic bliss as your bodies practically devour one another. Your blood sealed in the ring on his pinky and his blood sealed away in a vial around your pretty little neck..
#Spotify#miguel o'hara#fanfic#miguel x reader#miguel atsv#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel ohara#romance#atsv miguel#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o hara fluff#miguel spiderverse#miguel ohara imagine#miguel ohara smut#miguel ohara x fem!reader#miguel o hara x you
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How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 5
Chapter 5 is here! After this, we're gonna start getting into some actual plot! I'm excited hehe
Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader
No warnings today~ :3
As you step into your car, you shouldn’t be surprised when Alastor voices his recognition of the neighborhood. He notes how the streets have surely changed along with new houses, but some of the buildings were around when he was alive. He continues to make comments, telling you about how things use to be as you drive him around. It’s fascinating to hear, learning something new about your hometown. You feel like you’re getting to connect to the city better than most, having your very own historic tour guide.
Now that was a funny thought. Alastor becoming a tour guide. He would make a killing with how much he actually knew about New Orleans and its rich background.
“It’s such a shame,” Alastor states. You glance at him quickly before returning your eyes to the road.
“What is?”
“The thrill of the night, my dear. Such a wonderful experience of which you nor anyone born after my time will have.”
“What do you mean?”
Alastor shifts in the seat, facing you a bit more instead of looking out the window. “In the 1920s, alcohol was highly illegal. We had to sneak about into speakeasies just to get a taste of the night life.” You can tell he’s reminiscing and you start to feel bad for him. Dying so young, not able to live a full life, made room for regrets. No doubt he missed his era, the people he once new. Here you were, practically dangling his old life right in front of him and forcing him to see it’s no longer the same. Maybe this was a bad idea.
“I’m sorry,” you mumble. Alastor looks at you with wide eyes, his smile almost gone if not for the very corners of his lips still slightly upturned.
“For what, my dear?”
“For,” you pause, taking a breath. How were you already about to cry? “For bringing up old memories. Reminding you of what you lost. I can’t image what that must feel like.” You manage another quick glance at him and he seems almost shocked.
He faces forward, quiet for a minute. “You’re quite the strange mortal, indeed,” he says, the smile back to stretching across his features. You frown.
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Smile,” you answer. “You’re always smiling, even when I know you don’t want to.”
“What makes you think I don’t want to smile?” Alastor asks, slight offense in his tone. “My dear, you’re never fully dressed without one, as I always say!”
“Ok,” you shake your head, “but it’s not healthy to hold in other expressions. You should let them out. Frown, pout.” You make a face at him, exaggerating your bottom lip into a deep crease. Alastor coughs on a laugh, trying to bite it down.
“And be naked? Certainly not,” he states. You give up on the topic, changing it back to the city.
“So how does it feel, anyways? Being back?”
“New and yet somehow, still the same,” he says, looking out the window. “I’m not alive, like you, just taking on a physical enough form that’s tethered purely by our contract. I can’t feel the world like you are doing now.”
“I would love to say I understand, but I don’t.”
“Suppose you wouldn’t,” Alastor chuckles. “Being dead is very different than being alive, after all.”
“Did it hurt?” You didn’t mean to ask the question but it had been tugging at you in the back of your mind ever since the reality of demons and Hell became a thing for you. You put the car in neutral, parked in a random car lot. You don’t know when you two arrived there, but it was convenient as you could now fully face Alastor without having to pay attention to driving.
“It’s been so long, it’s hard to remember,” he speaks slowly. “From what I do know, no, it didn’t hurt. The fall did, though.” He shakes his head, body perking up as he looks around the car now. “Where are we, my dear?”
“Uh. Good question.” You look around to get your bearings. “Oh! Jackson Ave. There’s a nice place around the corner I like to eat at, actually.”
“Good thing I can eat cause I’m starved!” Alastor is already stepping out of the car. You go to open your door to get out, but Alastor tuts at you. “That won’t be allowed with me around, darling! Why, what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn’t do this much?” Now, you blushed and couldn’t stop it.
“You’d be the only one.” You let him help you out of the car. “Shame to say it, but chivalry is dead.” You don’t miss the sound of a record scratch, the sudden noise piercing your ears and making you wince.
“Darling, as long as I exist, whether in life or afterlife, chivalry will never die. Now, come along! Take me to this highly praised establishment you seem fond of!”
“I wouldn’t call it highly praised,” you giggle, taking his offered arm as the two of you begin walking down the street. “But it is nice. I go here sometimes with Veronica.”
“Veronica,” Alastor repeats the name. “She’s the one we spoke to earlier, correct? Your roommate.”
“Yours now, too, but yes, that’s her.” You take the lead and move towards a short, rectangular building. It looks like it’s made of glass, a neon open sign hanging in one of the doors. You excitedly begin to drag Alastor inside, not noticing the way your hand grasps his when you let go of his arm. Once inside, you eagerly turn to see his expression and it nearly makes you giggle.
Alastor takes in the space around him and his eyes widen, smile strained.
“So? Whatcha think, old timer?” you ask and cover your mouth to hide your laugh when his eyes get even bigger, looking down at you.
“Firstly, never call me that again,” he says, lips tight. “Secondly, what is this place?”
“Welcome to Subway, what can I get started for you?” A worker speaks up before you do, smiling friendly as they wait for your order. You move closer to the counter, Alastor in tow.
“Hi! This is actually my friend’s first time so we might be a minute, I’m sorry,” you apologize. The worker seems thrilled, nodding their head.
“Of course! We’re excited to have you!” They must see Alastor’s clear confusion as they point to the menu above them. “As you can see, we have all sorts of subs such as the classic Philly cheesesteak but of course, we have loads of ingredients for you to make your own personalized sub if preferred.” Alastor glances down at you, still lost. You shake your head with a smile and start your order first.
“I’ll have a pizza sub, toasted and on Italian Herb please,” you say with ease. It’s a favorite of yours to get most of the time you come, able to enjoy both the convenience of a sub but the pleasure of a pizza. The worker starts your first, allowing you a chance to ask Alastor what he likes. “So, you a meat or veggie person?”
“Meat,” he answers quickly, his smile almost sinister. You slowly nod, eying the choices.
“Chicken or beef?”
“Beef.” He seems excited for a second, asking, “Do they have venison?”
“Uh, I don’t think so,” you say, never hearing of someone eating venison with a sub, but then again, Alastor was from a different time. Maybe that was normal.
“A shame,” he hums, looking with you at the ingredients. The worker has yours done when they come back to get Alastor’s order. He still doesn’t know what to get so you decide to order for him, getting him a simple steak and cheese from the menu. You move down to checkout, pulling your phone out to pay, but Alastor is already placing the appropriate cash amount into the worker’s hand.
“Hey,” you protest but he stops you.
“Chivalry is alive and well,” he says and you roll your eyes. You two take your subs and walk over to an empty table. Alastor pulls out your chair before you can touch it and waits till you’ve seated before pushing it forward. You feel weird, being treated kindly like this. It makes your head spin as you remind yourself Alastor is a demon. Demons were suppose to be blood-thirsty, evil creatures hellbent on corruption and torture. Alastor was the furthest thing from those monsters you watched in horror movies. He was courteous, polite, and well mannered. It was enough to make your heart flutter which you did not like. Stupid heart.
Ignoring any more of those thoughts that tried to crawl through, you instead focused on eating, watching the way Alastor's expressions changed with every bite. The two of you finish up and leave. The warm air outside feels nice and you find yourself stretching, a yawn forcing itself out.
"Tired, my dear?" Alastor asks next to you. You check your phone. Since when did time start flying by so much?
"Yeah, getting there," you admit, "but I can still show you around?"
"Another time. For now, let's get you back home. Without adequate rest, how are you to come up with a wish?" he asks, offering his arm. Ah. The wish. Right. You take his arm and begin walking back to your car.
You hadn't thought of the wish, yet. Not because you didn't want to, really. You just couldn't seem to come up with anything and so far, you were enjoying Alastor's company. Sure Veronica was your friend and you loved spending time with her, but that time was becoming rare and few between as her work increased. She also seemed to be going to Josie's a bit more and that left you alone in the apartment, no one but yourself to be entertained by. Since Alastor appeared, you've not had a quiet moment and for that, you were surprisingly thankful. Did you really want to hurry and make that wish?
"Darling? You alright?" Your heart fluttered again, hearing Alastor call your name. It shouldn't flutter, it shouldn't be feeling anything regardless of how sweet his voice seemed to be when talking to you. He was a demon. You were just another soul for him to collect and nothing more. You shake your head, clearing any more stupid thoughts.
"Yeah, guess I'm just more tired than I realized," you answer, realizing you're already parked in your driveway. You must have autopilot here, as scary as that was. Turning the ignition off, you manage to exit the car before Alastor had a chance to get the door for you. You don't wait for him to join you as you unlock the front door and step in. He closes it behind you and you set your keys down, kicking off your shoes.
"I'm going to go ahead and go to bed. I'll, um, see you in the morning." You pause at your bedroom door, lingering for just a bit. You're tempted to say something more but swallow it down, closing your bedroom door.
You fall onto your bed with a sigh. It was frustrating, your heart. You'd just met the man - the demon, you remind yourself. You had summoned him, entered into a contract where your soul was the price. You couldn't allow yourself to do this all over again, to become attached to something you can't have. Surely you learned your lesson the last time your heart went through this.
Great.
Now you were thinking of him.
You roll over onto your side, not bothering with the blanket as you tuck your hands under your head. It had been a few years since you thought of him, the sight of his face unwelcomed as memories dragged forward. Pink skies, the smell of vanilla, and soft touches flood your mind, making your skin grow hot. You hate it. You don't want to remember, to be reminded of the pain that came after the charm. That's all he had been. Artificial charm laced with deceit and you had fallen for it. Stupid, stupid girl.
Fed up with your own head, you close your eyes and let the tired ache in your body consume you.
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Masterlist ... Ao3
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin alastor#alastor#the radio demon#alastor hazbin#Alastor x You#Alastor x Reader#Alastor Fanfic#alastor fanfiction#hazbin hotel fandom
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Near Zero part 4.
PAIRING: cillian murphy as j. robert oppenheimer x fem!reader
SUMMARY: 2k words. Brought on as part of the Manhattan Project, your old physics professor sees you in a new light.
RATING: E; mentions of smut, infidelity, drinking, period-typical sexism
A/N: Although based on real life characters, this is J. Robert Oppenheimer as played by Cillian Murphy, a fictional character, and does not intend to be accurate. This is merely for entertainment. Once again, I owe @indulgence-be-thy-name my life. My brain just isn't co-operative at the best of times and she's the best. This is a bit of a filler chapter but I hope you like it anyway! 🖤
masterlist
“Kitty would like you to come for dinner.”
You glance up from your paper, brows hiking as he leans over you, his voice soft. You recall his seminars at that same volume. He never gave the same lecture twice, so more fool anyone that didn’t understand the concepts Oppie spoke of.
Your lips part. “Oh.”
You’ve never spoken to Kitty Oppenheimer. You saw her as recently as yesterday when you walked to get milk from the store in the center of town. She was in the street, laughing with one of the wives of a fellow physicist. You didn’t know she knew who you were.
“We’re having a group over tomorrow night,” he adds. “We’ll have an awful lot of fun.”
Someone calls for him and you use the moment to gather your thoughts, to think of an excuse. As he returns to your side, you whisper:
“Robert.”
You began to call him by his first name a week ago, after you slept together for the first time. You were way past calling him ‘Dr. Oppenheimer’, and you called him ‘Oppie’ now in front of others. If anyone noticed, they haven’t let on, and if they were to ask why the change, you’re sure you’d tell a half-truth – you were closer to him now than your days at Berkeley. You were on equal footing, in a way. You did not, however, moan ‘Oppie’ when he pleasured you with either hands, cock, or tongue.
“She doesn’t know,” he whispers back, as if reading your mind.
The look he gives you, along with the accompanying pat on your shoulder, tells you he doesn’t believe you’re walking into trap. You nod, and you part ways once more.
-
You’ve slept with him a few times since the first night. All within the T building, all under the cover of darkness. You wish you could sneak him into your house but it would be noticed. He already walked you home more than once in full view of the street.
A guard or two would know you and Robert leave together occasionally, but that isn’t unusual. He is often with other people because of the nature of his position.
You haven’t behaved any differently, thus raising suspicions. You don’t feel any guilt. Perhaps that part of you doesn’t exist, at least not when it concerns him. It would be more of a headache that a morality issue if Kitty were to confront you about it; from what you’ve heard, she’s a nightmare to deal with when she makes something or someone her mission.
-
You arrive the next evening at the Oppenheimer residence, flashing your pass at the guards at the picket fence. You’re let through with a curt nod, feeling your nerves intensify when you hear the laughter coming from within the house.
You’re late, having delayed getting ready. You decided to dress well, but not ostentatiously. You wear your best dress, having not worn it since arriving in Los Alamos. You notice a mark on your shoe as you walk towards the front door, pausing to buff it away with your free hand. Your other arm carries a cake tin your mother gifted you – and until tonight, you never had a use for it.
You knock on the front door and wait a minute before it opens, revealing Robert, sans porkpie hat. He smiles slowly, blue eyes sparkling with outright delight.
“Hello,” he murmurs, and kisses you on the lips, as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
“Hi,” you whisper, and glance over his shoulder.
You’re aware of his eyes still on you, taking you in. Standing there on his front doorstep, you know it’s perhaps the only time you’ll have alone with him all evening.
“I’m very happy to see you, darling,” he says.
“Is it her?” someone calls, and you recognize it as Kitty, your heart leaping.
Robert leads you in, shutting the door behind you. Kitty appears, eyes widening, her cigarette in her mouth. She takes it out, exhaling as she comes toward you. She stares at the cake tin, coming in to kiss you as Europeans do, one-two, her hands on your shoulders.
“You’re adorable, you brought cake!”
“I thought chocolate would be a safe choice,” you murmur, feeling your cheeks flush.
She plucks the cake from you and spins around, forcing you to follow her down the hall with Robert behind you. He reaches out and squeezes the tip of your fingers before letting go, your stomach flipping.
“We’re in the den…”
You walk in to see a group of five other couples. All the men you know, but the wives are part of Kitty’s club that meet for drinks almost daily. Kitty announces you with a flourish of her manicured hand, and you raise a hand to wave an awkward hello to the several pairs of eyes set upon you.
You shake hands, kiss some cheeks and then are ushered by Kitty into the kitchen where she sets the cake on a plate, examining it.
“Dessert done. Good for us,” she says, and she glances over to Robert whose back is to you both. “Where are those martinis, dear?”
“Almost done,” he replies. “Very, very soon.”
“Hmm. Not nearly soon enough,” Kitty says. She gives you a playful wink.
Robert turns, two martinis in hand, giving one to his wife. She takes a sip, licking her lips.
“Thank God.”
He hands you the other, and you follow suit, eyes meeting his when the alcohol reaches your tongue. There must be a whisper of vermouth.
“He will get you drunk,” Kitty says, and she takes off again, expecting you to follow her.
You sit on either side of two scientists from the experimental physicists, your ankles together as you nurse your drink. Kitty talks the most and possibly drinks the most, Robert plying everyone with as much alcohol as possible as the night goes on. Dinner is served haphazardly by Kitty, but she’s not a sloppy drinker. She’s surprisingly sharp, and a great cook from what you can discern. A beef ragu helps slow the alcohol, at least for a time, before the crowd gets rowdier.
Robert doesn’t raise his voice, ever. He drinks steadily, thoroughly, throughout the night, but doesn’t guzzle it down. He barely eats. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him eat a full meal in all the years you’ve known him. He chain smokes, lighting his guests’ cigarettes whenever able.
At one point, little Peter Oppenheimer begins to cry from his bedroom and Kitty groans, rising from her chair.
“Better deal with the little devil,” she says, slipping out.
Curiosity gets the better of you and you follow her out. You blame the martinis, and the fact that you’ve never seen Robert’s child up-close. Kitty gives you a little smile and rolls her eyes, leaving the door to the nursery partly shut as she goes to the crib.
Peter is sat up, howling, and you watch as he’s lifted out, Kitty’s hand patting his back as she shushes him. You sip on your drink, just as Kitty asks:
“So why don’t you have a husband?”
You choke, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. “I’m sorry?”
“Well, you’re very attractive. And obviously you’re brilliant if Robert wanted you for the making of the gadget…”
Peter distracts her with another cry into her shoulder and she begins to rock him, humming. It takes another couple minutes for him to fall silent, and only then can you make out his face properly. He resembles Robert, his hair a mass of dark curls. His tear-streaked cheeks are round and rosy in the half-light, his eyelashes long against them as he snuffles. When his mouth closes, you see his perfect Cupid’s bow and dimpled chin.
“He’s beautiful,” you murmur, and Kitty nods absently.
“He gives me a headache,” she whispers. “But he’s asleep now.”
She places him down again and takes you by the elbow, whispering:
“Let’s get out of here before he starts up again.”
Kitty doesn’t seem the maternal type, but neither are you. What makes it sad to you is the lack of pride she seems to exhibit. There’s no space for Peter tonight, no swapping of stories about children. You return to the den and sink back into your chair, eyes meeting Robert’s across the way. He’s nodding politely along to a story, cigarette dangling.
“We were discussing our female genius’s lack of spouse,” Kitty announces, a little louder than you’d like.
Your face flushes and everyone turns their attention to her and then you, your drink by your lips again as if to shield yourself.
“Do we require a bachelor?” one of the wives says, leaning forward, resting her chin in her hand.
Kitty nods, sitting down. Her drink was refilled while you were with Peter. She takes a gulp.
“There’s Nielsen.”
“He’s that chemist?” another wife says. “How is his English?”
“He’s an Oakie,” one of the men chuckles. “And a bore.”
“Well, what would you suggest, Jerry?” Kitty throws back. “We’re all ears-”
“Actually, I don’t want one,” you blurt.
Everyone looks at you, including Robert, who takes out his cigarette and exhales. Elizabeth, the brunette whose husband is to your right, leans over to speak.
“You don’t want a date?”
“She means she doesn’t want a husband,” Kitty says, and she smirks, taking a drink.
You swallow, sure that it’s the alcohol loosening your tongue. “Yes. I mean, I don’t want a husband.”
“Is it… you don’t like men?” Elizabeth asks.
Your face is on fire. “I like men. I like… I like work.”
“You’ll change your mind,” another male visitor says, and you see Robert get up in your peripheral vision. “When the war is over.”
“Maybe,” you lie.
If you sound too certain, you’ll seem even stranger to these people than you already do. You’re the only one that came alone, and you’re possibly the youngest by several years, too. That could be your advantage; it might be dismissed as youthful naivete. You can’t let on that you decided as a little girl that marriage had no appeal.
“Maybe she doesn’t want to marry a scientist,” Robert says, taking your glass from you.
“A football player?” someone suggests, and there’s an eruption of laughter.
After the subject changes, there’s a shift in the atmosphere. You feel less self-conscious. Perhaps you’re tipsy, but it’s more likely the probing into your personal life in front of strangers that left you feeling less tense. It seems the worst of it is over by the time Robert returns to you with a new drink.
He takes the seat beside you, the cake having been served with some ice cream Kitty prepared earlier. Wives and husbands mingle as you feel a companionable silence settle between you and the director.
You light his cigarette for once, sharing the flame before you snap your lighter shut, inhaling.
“Did you meet Peter?” he murmurs, after a few minutes.
“Yes,” you reply, and you exchange a proper look. His head tilts towards you ever so slightly.
“He’s very strong. Quite the grip on him.”
“He’s very handsome,” you reply, exhaling with a small smile. “And you have a lovely home.”
Although it’s what the government built for him, and there’s less personality here than there would be in his ranch or his real home, it feels good to be there, in whatever sense.
Or maybe you’re drunk. Either way, you’re glad you came.
-
Kitty promises to see you again soon. One of the other couples offer to walk you home and you oblige. For the first time that night, you long for things to be different, that Robert was walking you back. You would hold his hand, lift his knuckles to your lips to kiss them.
You are very, very drunk, you realize, as you shut your front door behind you. You lean against it, sighing.
The next morning, hungover and searching for a reason to ever consider drinking again, you open your door and nearly trip over the cake tin left there overnight. You stoop to pick it up, hearing something inside it.
You turn back, opening it to peer inside. Some crumbs from last night surround a small envelope you lift from the tin, moving back inside to tear it open.
Darling,
You were wonderful last night. Nevertheless, we need to get away.
Come with me to Santa Fe.
X
Thank you again for reading! Let me know if you're liking this so far. I have no idea how long I intend to make this story but any feedback will help me gauge how interested you are for more. Likes and reblogs are therefore encouraged! 🖤
#oppenheimer x y/n#j robert oppenheimer#oppenheimer x reader#cillian murphy x reader#cillian murphy fanfiction#near zero#fem reader
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Honey Bee
Jolly Master List
PART ONE/PART TWO/
You feel your throat tighten, a knot forming as you hold your phone to your ear. You feel your chest constrict, your breaths becoming shallow and ragged. You feel your eyes well up, your vision blurring. You feel your mind racing, your thoughts spinning out of control. The amount of anxiety you felt today was enough to make you leave.
Noah will know how to help you and make you feel better. He gives you honest and practical advice without judging or blaming you. He'll support you, tell you you're not alone, and always be there for you.
You hate that you feel this way, out of place. What a change from yesterday when you fully felt you were where you were supposed to be. You hoped for a different outcome, but now you knew how Jolly felt and were thankful for it, but you also felt shattered. Why couldn't life be kind for just once and let you have what you wanted?
You hear Noah's voice on the other end, but it's not the friendly greeting you hoped for. "It's only been three days, Y/n. Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be focusing on lover boy?" He jokes. "You must be calling to thank me, right?"
You sigh and roll your eyes at his sarcasm. "Noah, please, this is serious. I need your help."
He laughs and says, "Oh, I see. You want to come back home to me, right, cause you feel bad for leaving me for so long? Well, too bad, honey. I'm taken."
You groan, "Stop it. I know you're not dating anyone, and when I come home, it won't be to YOU because we were never together, dumbass." You giggle, "You've hit full delusion without me there, huh?"
"I mean, I've had a lot of time to myself, and I've spent a lot of it in my room talking to George." He chuckles, "Anyway, what can I do for you, buttercup?"
As you walk through the tiny backyard, you admire the vibrant flowers and herbs that Jolly has grown in his garden. He's away at his mom's place, but you still feel nervous when you speak out loud. It's like you are afraid once the words come out, they will be true, and once you admit it to Noah, there is no turning back.
"I need to come home." You say, biting your lip. "I can't be here another day." You feel yourself choke over your words.
You hear him close the door on his side, and the phone crackles as he moves it closer to his mouth. "What do you mean?" He asks, sounding more concerned now. He clears his throat and lowers his voice, "Did something happen?"
"I can't talk about it at the moment. I already feel like I'm going to puke." You say, sniffing back your tears.
You can tell that Noah is getting anxious. "Did he hurt you?" He asks, his voice hard and furious. "Cause I'll come there, and I'll sort that shit out immediately."
You shake your head, even though he can't see you through the phone. "No, he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway." You pause, wondering how to ask him for a favor. You hate to impose on him, but you have no other option. You need to get away from this place as soon as possible. "I was just wondering if maybe you could help me out with the ticket." You whisper, hoping he won't get angry. You know you can't afford a last-minute flight back home.
Noah sighs, "Yeah, I'll see what I can find for today." The line goes silent for a moment, and when Noah speaks again, he's more gentle and kind, "I don't know what happened, but I want you to know it's going to be OK." He sounds sincere and caring, and you feel a sense of gratitude.
You feel your eyes water, but you quickly wipe them away. You don't want to cry in front of him, even if he can't see you. You want to be strong and brave like he always says you are. "I'll talk to you later." You say, trying to sound cheerful. You hang up the phone and take a deep breath. You hope he can find a ticket for you. You could really use a Noah hug about now.
Jolly sank into the recliner, facing his mom on the couch. He couldn't look at her; he felt too embarrassed and conflicted. He kept replaying the events of last night in his head, wondering if you hated him. He knew you were hurt; you barely said a word to him for the rest of the night. He saw you lying on the couch, pretending to be asleep, but he could see your eyes flickering and your body tensing.
He wanted to tell you how much he wished things were different. He wanted to kiss you and make you feel loved and be your hero and protector, but he thought he had no right to do that. He felt like he was trespassing on something that belonged to Noah.
He thought he should back off and let you sort things out with your best friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that you had hidden feelings for Noah, even though you denied it.
You and Noah seemed perfect for each other. You had known each other for so long, had your own jokes and secrets, and shared many interests. You spent a lot of time together, and Jolly knew when you did stay the night at their place, you were always in Noah's room. He couldn't help but imagine what you did behind closed doors.
"Joakim," His mother says, breaking the silence. "Is this about that girl?" She asks, noticing his gloomy mood.
He doesn't look up, afraid of what he'll see in his mother's eyes. He knows she's worried about him, but he doesn't want to disappoint her. He continues staring at the floor and nods slightly, "I should have listened to her and kissed her. I think I ruined everything." He leans forward, resting his face in his hands, and sighs.
"Tell me what happened." She urges, moving closer to him on the couch. He sits up and crosses one leg over the other, finally meeting his mother's matching irises. "I messed it up." He groans. "We had this fun day, and at the end of the night, she leaned in for a kiss, and I turned her down."
She nods, listening, "Why, I thought you liked this one?"
He shrugs. "I do. I have, for a long time."
"What is the problem? Did you forget to tell me she was married or unavailable?" She asks, growing concerned that her son has fallen into a trap.
Jolly shakes his head, "I think she has feelings for Noah, and Noah has feelings for her, but they won't admit it." He tells her, feeling the pain crushing him all over again.
"Joakim Oskar Patrik Karlsson, I love you, but you're not very bright sometimes." She laughs, "She came all this way to see you. She wanted you to kiss her. Isn't that enough evidence?"
Jolly's eyes widen, "But Noah-"
"What about Noah? She said she doesn't have feelings for Noah. You need to believe her, and if this is what you want, why aren't you going after it?" She sighs, growing slightly frustrated, "Men." She mutters. "I raised you better than this." She stands up, walks to the front door, and opens it. "Get out."
Jolly looks at his mother with confusion, "What?" He stands up, "You're kicking me out?"
"Go talk to her. Tell her everything because if you don't, she will move on, and there will be others, and you will regret this forever." She was right; he needed to tell you before it was too late.
He kisses his mom on the cheek as he exits the cozy house. He feels nervousness and excitement; he'll do it. He needed to tell you everything: how he thought about you, dreamed of you, and wanted to be with you. He rehearses what he will say but knows words are not enough. He needs to show you how he feels.
Jolly clenches the steering wheel as he drives to his house, his heart pounding in his chest. He dials Noah's number, hoping to hear his voice and clear the air. He doesn't want to lose his best friend over this. He wants to explain himself, to apologize, to make things right. But when he calls, the phone rings once and goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again but gets the same result.
Anxiety washes over him. He wonders why Noah is ignoring him, and then a horrible thought crosses his mind. You must've called Noah first.
"Fuck." He curses under his breath.
This was going to be the worst drive home ever.
He pulls into his driveway and parks the car, but he doesn't get out right away. His chest tightens when he thinks about facing you. He doesn't know what to say to you, but he hopes his feelings will show through. Jolly finally gets out of the car and walks up the driveway. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the door handle, calling out your name as he opens the door. But he stops when he sees you walking toward him with your bags packed. He feels a jolt of shock and pain as he looks at you, his eyes wide and incredulous. He can't move, he can't speak, and he can't breathe. He stares at you as you approach him, dragging your luggage behind you.
The sound of your bag hitting the ground jolts him out of his trance. "What's going on? Where are you going?" He asks, his voice cracking with emotion. He tries to catch your eye, but you avoid his gaze.
You avert your eyes from him and clamp your mouth shut, suppressing the sob that wants to break free. You wish you had left before he came back.
"Something came up at work, and I need to go home." You lie, hoping he won't hear the quiver in your voice. He knows you too well; he knows you're lying.
"Oh," he says softly, knowing at this moment there was nothing he could do to make you stay. "Let me at least take you to the airport…"
You shake your head and adjust your backpack on your shoulder. You pull out your phone and glance at the screen, "My cab's here." You say, feeling guilt in your chest. You see the pain in his face, and it breaks your heart.
"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" He asks, his voice barely audible.
You bite your lip and look around the room, trying to find something else to focus on—anything but him: anything but the memories you've made here. "I'm sorry, Jolly. I have to go." You say, walking past him.
He grabs your arm and hugs you tightly, holding you close.
He wants to tell you how he feels. He wants to beg you to stay. He wants to kiss you and make you forget everything else. But he can't. He loves you too much to be selfish and force you to stay. He has to let you go and hope that the two of you will reunite and things will be different.
"Be safe, Honey Bee." He whispers in your ear, then gently pulls back, looking into your eyes. He sees the tears that are about to fall. He wipes them away with his thumb. He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.
You nod your head and pick up your bags, "OK." You whisper, leaving him in the doorway as you drag your bags to the cab. You look back at him one last time and see him standing there, watching you go. You feel a surge of emotion and want to run back to him, but you know you can't. You get in the cab and close the door, feeling the finality of your decision. You drive away, leaving him behind.
He lets out a soft sigh, feeling disappointed and empty. He enters his room and sits on the bed, his heart heavy with regret. He kicks off his shoes, hoping a nap will help him forget the pain. But as he looks around the room, his eyes fall on the bedside table, and he sees it: the ring he bought you, a black band with your favorite stone in the center, sitting there, mocking him. He grabs it, holds it in his hand, and tilts it back and forth, remembering how happy you were to receive it, the smile on your face, the joy in your eyes, and your sweet smile. He feels the cold metal against his skin and wonders if you were intentionally hurting him as a form of payback. He shakes his head, not sure of how he feels. He sets the ring back on the table and lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels so angry, knowing that this could've been prevented if he just would've kissed you. His heart aches with longing, and he wishes he could turn back time and make things right. But it's too late now, and all he can do is lie alone with his thoughts and regrets. He hears the clock ticking on the wall and counts the seconds, hoping they will pass faster. He closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of you walking away from him. He wonders if you'll ever forgive him, and he wonders if he'll have to watch you fall for someone else or if there is still hope for him when he returns home.
When you arrive at the airport, Noah greets you warmly and offers to help you with your bags. "You doing OK?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. He sees the sadness and exhaustion on your face, and he knows you've been through a lot.
You nod, "Yeah, just wanna get home." You say, forcing a smile. You don't feel like talking; you just want to forget everything that happened. Noah nods in understanding and leads you out of the airport, where his car is waiting. As you walk, Noah glances over to see you staring at the ground. It's dark and cold, and you haven't yet asked him for his jacket, which surprised him. He knows you're always cold and usually lends you his jacket whenever you're together.
"Hey," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He tries to comfort you, to make you feel better. "You wanna talk about what happened?" He asks, hoping you'll open up to him. He wants to know what went wrong, what Jolly did or said to make you leave so suddenly. He wants to help you, to be there for you.
You feel a pit in your stomach as you think of the events of the last three days. You shrug your shoulders and nudge Noah's arm off you. You open the car door, still remaining silent. You're confused and angry.
Noah starts the engine, his lips pressed together as he watches you stare out the window. He feels like he's partly to blame for what happened. He was the one who encouraged you to go see Jolly, to confess your feelings, to take a chance.
"I'm sorry things didn't go how we thought they would," he says, his voice heavy with sorrow. He watches the road, purposefully missing the turn to keep you in the car a little longer. He wants to spend more time with you, to make you laugh and forget.
"Noah…" You groan. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Jolly made his choice, and now I need to move on." You lean your head on the window and watch as the rain droplets slide down the glass. You feel like they're a reflection of your tears and pain. You wish you could wash away everything that happened, everything that didn't happen and will never happen. "Please stop missing turns. I know it doesn't take this long to get home." You say, feeling impatient and restless. You want to get out of the car, out of this conversation, out of this mess.
Noah's grip tightens on the steering wheel, not out of frustration but worry. He sees the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. "You wanna stay the night with me? We can watch a movie, and I'm sure George would love to snuggle you." He suggests, hoping you'll agree.
You shake your head again, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together. You don't want to stay with Noah, you don't want to watch a movie, you don't want to snuggle George. You just want to go home, to your own bed, to your own space, to your own misery. "I'll get him in the morning, Noah. I just really want to go home." You say, growing frustrated. You hate to sound ungrateful, but you can't stand being around anyone now. You just want to be alone.
The rest of the car ride is quiet, and it's not until you reach your apartment that you remember Noah has a key to your door.
You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. "Give me your key." You say, holding out your hand. You don't want him to have access to your place, check up on you, or bother you. You want to cut him off, at least for tonight.
Noah looks at you, shocked. "What?" He asks, "No." He says with wide eyes, "You said it's for an emergency, and right now, I'm worried you might have an emergency." He's afraid of what you might do. He cares about you more than you know, and he can't stand the idea of losing you, even if it's only mentally.
You stare at him with disbelief, "Noah, give me the fucking key. I just want to sleep peacefully without you annoying me because you're worried." You snap, losing your patience. You don't care about his feelings, and you don't care about his fears.
Noah can't believe you're pushing him away like this after everything you've been through together. He clenches his jaw and pulls his keys out of the ignition. He grabs the key and drops it in your hand. "Fine. Take it...just promise you'll come get George in the morning."
You force a smile and get out of the car. Noah pops the trunk, and you grab your bags, avoiding his gaze as you walk into your apartment.
You feel a twinge of guilt for how you treated Noah, but you can't help it. You're angry at him for making you believe that Jolly had feelings for you when he clearly didn't.
You drop your bags by your door and head to your bedroom, passing by one of the pictures you cherished of you and Jolly. You push your fingers under the frame and knock it off the wall, letting it fall to the floor. You hear the glass shatter and glance at the broken edge, feeling pain in your chest.
You stare at the photo of you and Jolly, your faces glowing with happiness. It was from the Fourth of July, the night you celebrated with fireworks and laughter. Noah was your photographer, capturing every moment with his phone. He teased you for being too scared to light anything but sparklers, but Jolly didn't mind. He thought you were adorable and joined you with his own sparkler. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple as the sparks flew around you. It was a perfect night, and you felt nothing could go wrong.
You shake the thoughts as you walk away, not bothering to clean it up.
Reaching your room, you strip out of your clothes and turn off the light. You crawl into bed and reach for your phone, squinting at the bright screen.
You see a text message from Jolly. Did you make it back safe?
You sigh and turn off your phone. You don't want to talk to him. You toss your phone aside and lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, feeling lost and confused. You can't believe you fell for Jolly after holding him at arm's length for so long; you should've trusted your instincts. How did you miss the clues that he was only being nice to you? Maybe you missed the friendly signals because of how he held you the other night in his bed, making you feel safe and serene, or was it how he would wrap his arms around your waist or rest his hands on your hips when he spoke to you? Or maybe it was the ring he gave you, telling you he wanted you to think of him whenever you glanced at it.
You roll on your side and pull the blanket over your head, muffling your sobs. You hate feeling this way. You wish you could erase him from your mind, but you know you can't. He's a part of you, and you can't let him go. You close your eyes and drift into a restless sleep, dreaming of what could have been.
Part four
Tags: @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm
@somewhere-diamond @cookiesupplier
#jolly karlsson x y/n#jolly karlsson x you#jolly karlsson one shot#jolly karlsson fanfiction#jolly karlsson fic#jolly karlsson x reader#jolly Karlsson angst#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic
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butterflies and zebras (and moonbeams and fairy tales). -> e.roundtree
WARNINGS: pregnancy, childbirth, some profanities
SYNOPSIS: You and Eddie have a daughter. The first weeks of her life growing up in the house with you both and the band.
word count: 3,077
NOTES: written for this request! Hope y'all like it <3
Y/N Roundtree: When Eddie tells the story back, he likes to paint himself all calm and in control, but let me be the first to tell you that man was a right fuckin’ mess. Lord knows I love him, but getting him out to the car was like herding a fuckin’ feral cat into a basket.
Eddie Roundtree: She said that? I wasn’t that bad!
When you woke up in the middle of the night to a specific kind of pain rolling through your abdomen like a wave, you knew exactly what it was. With some effort, you dragged yourself into a sitting position, one hand rubbing back and forth over the soft fabric of your nightgown as if you could soothe the baby back into calmness from the outside world. You glanced at the alarm clock, noting the time, bleary eyes drifting to the bright, full moon out the window. This was the night, you could feel it. Mother’s intuition kicking in already. This baby was going to make her earthside debut very soon.
Ten slow minutes later, another contraction rolled through, and you figured it was about time you woke Eddie up. He was flopped on his stomach next to you, cheek smushed against the pillow and mouth wide open as he slept. You reached over, brushing his hair away from his forehead and patting his upturned cheek softly.
“Eddie, my love,” you said, voice scratchy and lethargic. “Wake up, baby.”
Slowly, Eddie came back to consciousness, brow scrunched in confusion. He looked up at you, sleep still clouding his eyes, before suddenly snapping completely awake, scrambling to sit up on the mattress.
“What is it? Are you okay?” he asked, gripping your shoulder and looking at you with such urgency that you had to swallow a laugh.
“I’m fine,” you said, watching his shoulders sag with relief. “But it’s time. This baby is coming.”
“It’s time?” he asked, voice about two octaves higher than normal.
“That’s what I said,” you confirmed.
“You’re in labor? Right now?”
“Yes, Eddie. That’s what ‘the baby is coming’ means.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god!” He tried to scramble off the bed, feet getting caught in the sheets and sending him tumbling to the floor. You couldn’t hold back the laughter anymore, and Eddie shot you an unimpressed look as he climbed back onto his feet.
“What are you–? Will you please put your shoes on? We have to go!” Eddie shouted, going into the closet and grabbing a pair of comfy shoes and putting them onto the bed next to you before disappearing out of the room. You heard him grumbling about how the longer it took for you to leave, the higher the possibility was that you’d give birth in the car before you’d even get there. A minute later he returned, a sheepish look on his face.
“Sorry, I forgot you actually can’t put your shoes on anymore,” he said, kneeling down in front of you to slip the shoes on your feet. Once he was done, you gently grasped his chin in your hand, making him pause his flurry of movements and look up at you.
“We’re gonna be fine, you know that right?” you asked him.
“Yeah, ‘course,” Eddie said unconvincingly. “But we’ll be more okay if you get to the hospital before your water actually breaks.”
You rolled your eyes at his antics, standing from the bed and twisting side to side to stretch your back. God, but you were ready for this pregnancy to be over. You loved watching Eddie react to the pregnancy, how he immediately went out and bought an armful of parenting books the day after you told him, how he reminded you how big the baby was each week, how he insisted on resting his cheek on your tummy to have a nightly conversation with the baby. Pregnancy suited him, but it absolutely did not suit you. The last eight and a half months had been completely miserable, physically speaking. You had been dreaming about the birth of your daughter for months, and not only because you wanted to meet her so badly, but also because you just wanted her out.
Eddie was crashing around the room, clumsily turning on lamps and slipping into his own shoes and grabbing the hospital bag the two of you had put together a few weeks ago, all the while muttering to himself. You stood next to the bed with your arms crossed over your chest watching him and wondering if he was having a stress-induced breakdown.
Eddie Roundtree: Okay, maybe I was as bad as she said. Honestly, I don’t remember much of that night because I was so fucking keyed up with anxiety, man. [laughs]
“What the fuck is happening in here, man?” Warren asked, his head popping in through the open doorway.
“Baby’s coming,” you said simply, snickering at the way his eyes widened comically.
“Oh, shit! It’s go time?” he asked, to which Eddie nodded frantically. “It’s go time!” Just as quickly as he’d come, he disappeared back down the hall. Faintly, you could hear him banging on everybody else’s bedroom doors and relaying the news. By the time Eddie got himself together and ushered you out into the hallway, everybody was awake.
“Is it true? It’s baby time?” Graham asked, suppressing a yawn.
“How many times–” you started, before having to clench your teeth against the pain of a contraction. One of your hands went to your stomach, eyes screwing shut, and Eddie’s grip tightened on your shoulders, steadying you. “– am I going to be asked that tonight?”
“Oh my god, it really is happening,” Graham muttered, turning a wide-eyed look towards Warren. Eddie steered you towards the stairs, Warren, Graham, and Karen following behind.
“You guys are a bunch of morons,” you said, shaking your head. “Not you, Karen.”
“I know, darling,” Karen said sympathetically from behind you.
“We’ll follow you to the hospital then?” Graham asked as you slowly made your way towards the car.
“No, that’s ridiculous,” you shook your head. “Who knows how long this is gonna take? You guys might as well get some sleep beforehand.”
“You’re the ridiculous one if you think we aren’t all coming to the hospital right now,” Camila said as she and Billy emerged from their bedroom.
“Well, I can’t stop you,” you said, throwing your hands up in defeat. “Let’s go, Roundtree.”
Warren Rojas: Don’t forget, this was before dads really ever stayed in the delivery room. I mean, they tossed Eddie’s ass right out into the waiting room with the rest of us. If I wasn’t just as nervous as he was, I would’ve laughed at all the pacing he was doing.
Karen Sirko: He practically mauled every doctor that walked by, interrogating them for information. I think they actually started avoiding our hallway after a while.
After five hours, Eddie had practically worn a groove in the linoleum tiles with all of his pacing. Occasionally, someone would try to coax him into a seat, coax a cup of coffee into his hands, but he was mostly unreceptive. After a few hours, everyone else resigned to sitting in the row of plastic chairs, watching him wear himself out.
“Mr. Roundtree?” a doctor asked, rounding the corner with a clipboard. In a fraction of a second, Eddie was standing directly in front of him, anxiously trying to get a look at the chart he was holding.
“That’s me,” he said. “You have news of my wife?”
“Congratulations, Mr. Roundtree. You have a daughter,” the doctor said, clapping Eddie on the shoulder. “Would you like to come meet her?” Numbly, Eddie nodded, and the doctor led him down the hall.
When he pushed the door to your room open, you were laying in bed, sweaty and exhausted, a little bundle of blankets with a pink hat sticking out of the top cuddled to your chest. You looked up, the brightest, weariest grin on your face as your eyes met his. Suddenly shy, Eddie idled in between the door and your bed, unsure of what to do with himself.
“Come here, dummy,” you laughed, motioning him to your side. At your invitation, the hesitation vanished, and Eddie was next to your bed in an instant.
“How’re you feeling, angel?” he asked, cupping your warm cheek as he pressed a kiss to your sweaty forehead.
“Really fucking exhausted,” you said, laughing. “And like I’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow. But it’s worth it– just look at her.”
Eddie’s eyes drifted from your face and down to the infant clutched to your chest. His daughter. His daughter. Seven pounds flat, you told him, face chubby and round like the full moon that was holding court in the sky as he’d driven you to the hospital, a tuft of dark hair peeking out from beneath her little hat.
Absolutely fucking perfect.
“You wanna hold ‘er?” you asked softly, feeling all warm and melty from the way Eddie’s eyes had filled with tears as he looked at your daughter. He nodded emphatically, turning behind him to grab one of the visitor chairs and drag it up to the bed. Once he was situated, you carefully arranged the bundle of blanket and baby in his arms.
“She’s so tiny,” he laughed and then sniffled, and you grinned as reached over to wipe away the tears on his cheeks.
“Felt like she was three times this size when she was in here,” you joked, pointing to your stomach. “So, what about a name?”
“I still like the one we picked out,” Eddie said, tearing his eyes away from her to look up at you. “It suits her, don’t you think?”
“Yeah, it does,” you agreed, smiling as you brushed a finger against her velvety cheek. “Alright, let’s have the rest of the family come and meet her, then.”
Ten minutes later, Eddie came back to the two of you with the rest of the band in tow. They encircled your bed, immediately grinning and cooing at the baby.
“Everyone, meet Parker Katherin Roundtree!”
Graham Dunne: Parker was seriously the loudest baby [laughs] and I don’t mean crying! She was always just making noises, actually yelling and babbling. It was the funniest thing, we said practically since her birth that she’d be fronting her own rock band as soon as she could talk.
“Okay, close your eyes!”
“Warren, I can’t close my eyes and carry a carseat at the same time,” Eddie said. The three of you were standing on the upstairs landing of the house, you, Eddie, and Parker having just gotten home from the hospital.
“Okay, well, be surprised still,” Warren bargained and you laughed, following him down the hall. He stopped in front of the door to the unused, walk-in linen closet in the hall.
“Open it!”
You reached forward, twisting the knob and pulling the door open. Inside, the closet had been completely transformed. All of the shelves had been pulled out, making it much bigger inside, and the back wall had been painted a cheery blue, the wood paneling on the other walls painted white. Warren had put together the crib you and Eddie had bought a while back, and it was situated against the farthest wall. A little mobile of brightly colored, dangling sea creatures hung above it. A rocking chair and some ocean-themed toys had been stuffed into the little room too, and a little shelf filled with children’s books had been affixed to the wall.
You turned to Warren, tears in your eyes and a huge grin on your face. “Warren, you did all this?”
“Yeah, man,” he shrugged, like it was nothing. “I had to prove I was a good choice for godfather!”
“You didn’t have to prove anything, dummy,” you said, pulling him into the tightest hug you could manage in your still-sore state. “Thank you so, so much, War. Love you.” Eddie put Parker’s car seat on the ground so he could pull Warren into a hug next.
“I didn’t know you had such an eye for interior design, man,” he teased.
“Only the best for my goddaughter, obviously,” he returned.
You gently unbuckled Parker’s seat, lifting her into your arms so you could walk her around the little space. You pointed out every detail, from the tiny little clownfish that had been hand painted on the wood of the bookshelf, to the seashell-printed rug on the floor. Eddie and Warren stayed in the hall talking to each other, and you savored the quiet moment between just you and your daughter.
“You are already so, so loved,” you whispered into the fluffy down of her hair, resting your nose on her little head and breathing in her newborn scent. “So loved, and you don’t even know it yet.”
Y/N Roundtree: Eddie took to fatherhood like a duck to water. Seriously, I’ve never seen someone bond so completely with a baby so damn fast. It was heartwarming and even thrilling to watch; I’d always known that Eddie was the love of my life, but in those first weeks after Park was born, he really solidified for me that he was the one I was supposed to build a family with, supposed to grow old with.
Eddie Roundtree: I think I always wanted to be a dad. Somethin’ about having someone to love unconditionally and who loves you unconditionally back, maybe. Having Park meant having someone that I could make proud of me.
For the first time in the two weeks since you’d given birth to your daughter, you felt relaxed. Karen and Camila had convinced you to come out for a girls’ lunch that had quickly turned into a full afternoon of shopping and ended with a walk out on the beach. You’d stopped at about five different payphones throughout the afternoon, calling the house to make sure Eddie was still okay taking care of Parker or if he needed you to come home. He assured you every time that he was absolutely fine, and anyway he had the bright minds of Warren and Graham in the house to help him if need be. This did not reassure you all that much, but nonetheless you trusted the three musketeers with your own life, and were slowly but surely learning to trust them with your daughter’s.
When you got back home, the sun was dipping below the horizon and the house was quiet, peaceful. You were mildly surprised to see Graham and Warren in the kitchen actually attempting to cook a real dinner�� they were making such a ruckus, though, that they didn’t even hear you and the girls come in. Karen and Camila entered the kitchen to investigate the scene, but you carried on towards the stairs, eager to check on your little family.
You went to yours and Eddie’s room first, but there was no sign of him or the baby there. Setting down your bag and putting your shoes away in the closet, you walked out towards Parker’s nursery. The door was closed, but the dim glow of her soft yellow lamp spilled out from under the wood. Smiling to yourself, you crept over to the door and slowly pushed it open, careful to keep quiet in case the baby was sleeping.
But surprisingly, Parker was awake. She lay snuggled in the crook of Eddie’s arm, wrapped up in the orange and yellow blanket Camila had crocheted for her. Eddie was sitting in the rocking chair, slowly rocking the two of them back and forth. The hand that wasn’t holding Parker was holding a copy of The Hobbit, which he was reading aloud to her. You stifled a laugh; it was easy to forget, sometimes, how much of a geek Eddie really was, even though that was a big reason you’d fallen for him in the first place. Especially now, when most of the world knew his smooth rockstar persona. That part of him was every bit real, of course, but looking at him cuddled up with his daughter, reading her one of his favorite books, you couldn’t help but realize that this version of Eddie might be even more real.
Eddie looked up and noticed you before you could say hello, catching the lovesick expression on your face as you leaned against the doorjamb, taking in the saccharine scene in front of you.
“Hey, angel, you have a good time today?” he asked, folding the corner of the page down to mark his place before closing the book. You stepped into the room, closing the door behind you before making your way over to him. He wrapped his free arm around your waist, and you bent down to press a kiss to the crown of his head.
“A great time,” you confirmed. “It was nice to get out of the house for a few hours. Looks like you two had a nice time, too?”
“Oh, yeah,” Eddie said. “I had to rework one of my bass lines today, so Uncle Warren had a tv marathon with Park while I worked. It was great– the two of them have the same nap time. Then I fed her and we came up here for some Hobbit time.”
“Thrilling day, then,” you grinned, pressing another kiss to the side of Eddie’s head. Parker watched the two of you, her wide, calf-like brown eyes taking you in with seeming curiosity. Those eyes would lighten up to the almost hazel of Eddie’s over the next few months. Parker would get a lot more than her eyes from Eddie– his smirk, his sensitivity, his ear for music– but you didn’t know any of that yet. This was before she was any of that, before she could grow up to resemble anyone. These were the brand new days, and you intended to savor every single second of watching her grow up and watching Eddie grow into this new role of fatherhood.
“Keep reading, baby. I wanna hear, too,” you said, settling down onto the floor beside the rocking chair and leaning your head on his knee. One of Parker’s little socked feet was poking out of the blanket and you gently grasped it, rubbing quiet little circles into the skin of her sole. Eddie opened the book back up and began reading again, the deep and wide lake of his voice filling the room.
#daisy jones and the six#djats#eddie roundtree#eddie roundtree x reader#eddie loving#eddie loving x reader#warren rhodes#warren rojas#karen sirko#karen karen#camila dunne#graham dunne#billy dunne
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prompt 56 with jamie
you absentmindedly chewed on your hoodie string, looking at the tv playing a movie but completely zoned out. you had been nervous ever since jamie and trevor left the house a few hours ago and now your nerves were spiked because they should be home any minute.
today was jamie’s first full practice after his injury last season and you had no clue how it was going to go. he had been optimistic, saying that it felt like the injury had never even happened. you were a little wary. sure, he had gone through physical therapy, taken the recommended amount of time off, and been cleared to play again. but a part of you worried about all the different outcomes of him going back to practice. he wouldn’t be as good or as strong as he was before his time off and it would frustrate him, he would hurt himself again, and on and on.
the front door opened and you were shook out of your daze. the hoodie string fell from your lips and you turned to see trevor making his way through the door. he smiled when he saw you and you instantly returned it. trevor wandered further into the house as jamie made his way in and closed the door behind himself, taking his shoes off and looking up to find you. he looked exhausted but still gave a lazy grin when he saw you, making his way over to the couch. he practically threw himself down, his head landing on your thighs and his eyes instantly closing.
“how was it?” you asked softly, letting your fingers rake through his hair.
“i’m so glad i’m finally able to get back out there but i am so tired.” you laughed lightly at his words.
“how’s your shoulder feel?”
“can barely tell i ever hurt it.” you let out a small happy sigh, patting his shoulder a few times.
“what do you say we go to your room and you can take a nap?” he practically moaned at the thought, standing up and offering you a hand to pull you to your feet as well. he led you to his room, where he flopped down on the bed. you shut the door and then slipped under the covers, whining when you realized he was laying on top of them. you yanked at the blanket and he smiled, sitting up to take off his shirt and throw it across the room before moving under the blanket as well. he opened his arms to let you cuddle up to him but you shook your head.
“come here, i’ll scratch your back for you.”
“oh my god, please just marry me already,” he mumbled as he got comfortable on top of you. you giggled, slowly running your nails up and down his back.
“don’t say things you don’t mean just because you’re sleepy, jame.”
“who said i didn’t mean it?” you paused, and jamie shifted so he could easily look up at you. “you think i don’t have a ring bought and stashed somewhere?”
“are you actually proposing to me right now? because you know the answer is yes.” he smiled, getting up and walking over to the closet. he pulled a box from one of his suit jackets and turned around to see you smiling at him.
“well then, just gotta put the ring on your finger to make it official.”
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🌟 SUNNIE 🍓 started their LIVE: cb live 💕
streamed on: weverse date: 24.02.26 languages: kor. = “normal”, “chn = bold” warnings: implied breakups, mentioned drinking
“Hi, Carats! Welcome to the comeback live for my second mini album!” Sunnie greets. “It’s been a long time, right?” She says, looking down at the comments.
💎: Unnie we missed you!!!
“I missed you guys too… I've been really busy recently, and I just got back from fashion week.”
“I also had to dye my hair purple, but it's kind of fading now.. It reminds me of the purple hair I had during Mansae era.” Sunnie laughs
“I’ll start introducing the album now since it comes out in one hour!” She says as the staff signals her to hurry up.
Sunnie leaves the frame, then returns with a physical copy of ‘Good, Bad, Ugly.’ “Here’s the album Carats!” Sunnie exclaims while showing it off. “There are three album versions, ‘Good, Bad, and Ugly,’ but I only have ‘Bad’ right now.”
💎: what is the meaning of the album name?
“The meaning of the album is to show all the sides of a relationship with others and with yourself, the positive and the negative, which is where I came up with the name.” She explained.
“I need to speed this up, so I'll start introducing the tracks now!” She laughed as she put away the album. “There are eight tracks on the album and, Woozi and Bumzu Oppa helped me make most of them.”
“I wrote all of the songs based on different experiences I've had throughout my life and want to thank everyone who participated in creating them with me!”
“Okay, the first song is ‘DIZZY’, the album intro.” “It talks about how dizzy it feels to love someone when you aren’t sure how they feel about you,” Sunnie explains.
A 20-second snippet of ‘DIZZY’ plays on the speaker while Sunnie reads the comments.
💎: wahh, how is this only an intro?? isn't it good enough to be a full song?
“Originally, it was going to be a full song but honestly I never ended up finishing the full song so…” She shrugs.
“Next is the title track ‘Find Myself’ which I originally wrote in 2018 when I was struggling a lot with my identity in and outside of Seventeen but it never got fully written, so Woozi Oppa helped me rewrite the song.”
A 10-second snippet of Find Myself plays while Sunnies dances along.
“Since it's releasing soon, I won’t make any additional comments and just move on to the next song, which would be…” She pauses, “Oh, right! The song is ‘My Love,’ I wrote it when I had a lot of love in my heart and felt emotional, so I hope Carats can feel those same feelings!”
While the snippet plays she checks the comments again.
🐻❄️: introduce late night pls 🤲
“Since Hansol is getting impatient, we can move on to ‘LATE NIGHT.’ We were out together drinking and somehow ended up writing a song just about having late night conversations, kind of inspired by our actual conversations.”
🐻❄️: best song on the album imo
“Hansolie is so..” She trails off, shaking her head.
“Anyway! Next is the song ‘Good, Bad, Ugly’ is actually about the different parts of yourself instead of a relationship. You should always love yourself no matter what!”
After a moment of reading the comments she checked the time.
“Wow.. It’s already 20 minutes until the release..” She laughed. “Alright, this next song is called ‘Star,’ Junnie wrote it with me. It's just a beautiful song, and I feel like the meaning can be up for your own interpretations.” She said while smiling.
💎: I get so happy to hear you sing in chinese!!
“It makes me really happy too! I can definitely see myself making a full Chinese album one day.”
“The next song is ‘Our Street,” which I wrote after having a bad breakup a very long time ago and I never had a chance to release it until now, it's a really sad song but definitely my favorite.”
💎: it's so strange seeing an idol openly talk about their relationships ㅋㅋㅋ
Sunnie hummed in acknowledgment, “I’m almost 26, so I feel like I can talk about it now. Also, nothing that hasn't been said about me before, so why not just make music about it.” She said, shrugging.
“Wow, the last song already? The track is called ‘In My Dreams’ and I wrote it about unrequited love and wishing that they liked you back.”
After the snippet was done playing Sunnie started waving goodbye. “The album should be out in a couple of minutes now, please give the songs a lot of support!”
“Bye Carats!”
alternate title: yuming soft launcing for an hour straight
taglist: @seolboba @amnesixa @allthings-fandoms
#sunnie.live#kpop oc#seventeen 14th member#kpop added member#14th member of seventeen#kpop addition#fictional kpop oc
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Wrong On The Money (24)
part 24 of ?? | 672 words | Teen+
Blackmail fic on Ao3 | on tumblr
Summary:
By the time Eddie wakes up, it’s not a private room anymore. He looks blearily over to his right, sees Steve lying still and quiet in a hospital bed of his own, and immediately tries to sit up.
Wake up, I don’t like this.
24.
By the time Eddie wakes up, it’s not a private room anymore. He looks blearily over to his right, sees Steve lying still and quiet in a hospital bed of his own, and immediately tries to sit up.
Wake up, I don’t like this.
“Oh motherfucker,” Eddie groans at the immediate wildfire the motion starts through his core. He feels like he’s being split open down the middle.
“Easy son, easy—” By the time Wayne’s intercepting hands reach him, Eddie is already falling back the inch or so he’d managed to rise with a pained whine. It’s jarring to see Wayne in a hospital setting again, but, well. Tables are pretty damn well turned now. And while the man looks stressed and worried, that's nothing to the gray, haggard ghost of himself that he'd been while sick.
It takes Eddie several minutes, a button that sends painkiller straight through his veins like a cold bath from the inside out, and a pitiful mouthful of ice chips to compose himself again.
“Steve,” he wheezes finally. “What happened?”
Wayne snorts. “Dumbassery.”
Eddie manages a weak smile. “Be more specific?”
“Looked like he got chewed on by the same thing that spit you out, only he didn’t get it looked at. Took the time to save your life first, though.” Taking the cup of ice chips away for later, Wayne sits back in his uncomfortable visitor's chair with a sigh. “The hell’d you get yourself mixed up in this time, Ed? First I come in here to find the Harrington boy watchin’ over you and you’re handcuffed to the bed. Then he keels over, and half an hour later Jim Hopper comes back from the dead to uncuff you and say the government’s covering all the medical bills.”
And the drugs might play a role here, but Eddie tells him. There’s no ‘you’re not gonna believe me,’ not with Wayne.
He tells him everything. Chrissy, holding a broken bottle to Steve’s neck, the Upside Down and its monsters, everything. Even the blackmail part. Even though it takes him several tries over at least a whole day because he keeps drifting in and out, quality drugs and sheer exhaustion dragging him down into much needed rest.
When he’s done, Wayne regards him with a measured look—and in this case, the measuring cup is heaped full with are you fucking kidding me.
Eddie braces himself. (Mentally, anyway. Physically, he can't do shit.) The being gay, the dealing drugs, the murder charges—none of that did it, which is good, but he’s not entirely sure that Wayne won’t finally kick him to the curb for taking some poor guy’s wallet for a ride. Especially the guy who just saved his life, and who his uncle seems to have taken a liking to because of it.
“Son,” Wayne says, blunt as ever, “as soon as that boy is conscious again, you need to talk to him. You need to apologize.” There’s a long pause, and this is it, this is the part where Eddie is expecting to hear that next he should pack his bags— “And then tell him thank you.”
Another long pause.
“Is that all?” Eddie asks weakly, because he has to be sure.
Wayne nods. “That’s plenty. Want a pen and paper to plan it out like one’a your game campaigns?”
On some level, Eddie recognizes that his uncle is making fun of him. On another . . . yeah, he actually kind of does, just to scribble out the jumble of thoughts in his head, not only about Steve but about everything. On every possible level, his eyes well up.
The sleep he’d gotten since almost dying was, perversely, the best he’d had in months. Since before Wayne had gotten sick, all the way through to the end of the worst Spring Break in the history of the world.Eddie chokes out a laugh as the first tears begin to fall, a comforting old hand finding its way to his shoulder as he has a long, long overdue breakdown.
#steddie blackmail fic#steddie fic#steddie#stranger things fic#eddie munson#steve harrington#wayne munson#good uncle wayne
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two slow dancers.
&&. watching you paint has become a state of relaxation for renjun, you realize how much more vocal he is about his love for you than you thought.
pairing: huang renjun x m!reader
genre: fluffy like clouds, gay preple 😢
warnings: none!
word count: 0.8k
notes: renjun 🙁…….renjun 😖……..renjun 😢….. my wife i love him sm 💔 um anyway so last night i had a DREAM about renjun and i realized how good of a plot it ended up being despite how jumbled up it was 😞 i remember all of the good parts and that's what matters! um anyways take this writing from the corners of my mind
this was published so xiao dejun doesn't murder user @junjiie 😊
"shouldn't they be flying then?"
"well they don't actually have to flying, the wings are there for symbolism".
renjun eyes somehow un-blur themselves, and he stares for a long time trying to figure out what you mean by symbolism. now— renjun's not an idiot (he's actually very smart if he does say so himself!), it usually takes him a good few minutes to get what your talking about when your referring to symbolism, but in five minutes he ends up getting it.
he enjoys watching you paint, just watching the whole process intrigues him. before this, before you, renjun wasn't necessarily a fan of art museums, but ever since you've come into his life, with your stupid puns and your paintings full of symbolism, your shared apartment has pretty much become an art museum in itself.
the creativity you harbor shows no bounds, you paint practically everything of interest to you, thoughts you had at three in the morning with a long lecture ahead of you in a few hours, things you'd seen outside that were just too out of this world to not remember, or your reminiscing about moments in your life that will only happen once.
renjun thinks your mind must be the most interesting place in the world, your just thinking all the time, brainstorming. even when you aren't physically painting, your drawing up ideas in your head of what to put on your canvas.
and somehow, all of them just connect to you, all your paintings just contain something special that scream you, renjun can't fathom how you do it.
sometimes he describes it as a "superpower" you have, and you always manage to laugh at the wording of his sentence when he says so.
renjun just has this way of describing things, you have to give him credit on how incredible he is.
"the wings aren't meant to be taken literally.." you mutter, finishing up the final touches for your painting, somehow, you seem to still be full of energy, despite the fact that you've currently been up for a good 17 hours (renjun counted for you), and haven't touched your bed once today since you crawled out of it first thing in the morning. "they represent purity, innocence, it's truly associated with white birds so—"
you pause in the middle of your sentence, worried that your boring your boyfriend, but when you glance over at renjun, his full attention is on you, he's completely focused on what your talking about. "and? continue!"
his interest surprises you, most people you know roll their eyes when you begin explaining the meanings of your paintings. you don't mean to annoy anyone, so you've become accustomed to giving short and easy answers when people ask about the meanings behind your paintings, you often feel like your doing too much if you give such a long and thorough explanation.
renjun doesn't care though, everything you say is of importance to him. he isn't looking around the room, he isn't zoning out, he isn't focusing on a random part of the couch and zooming in on it, his attention is all on you.
he cares about what your saying.
you snap out of your mind, though glad about the whole revelation you just made, you forgot you were in the middle of a sentence. "that's why i chose them, this painting is meant to represent childhood innocence, and white birds, innocence".
you almost feel like you sound stupid in a way, but as renjun glances back at the painting, the one he'd sat and watched as you created with your own two hands for the past two and a half hours, he smiles, his eyes light up.
admiration is the obvious answer, you know the look because you can't count how many times you stared at renjun with the same exact stare. he laughs at a thought he has, and then turns to you, completely unaware of how you were looking at him so lovingly. "it's beautiful, i love it" he tells you, staring at you the same way he admired the painting beforehand.
you can't stop the way your face heats up, and your sure renjun can tell how red you are. if he can he doesn't say anything about it, just smiles at you, and you swear your face is practically burning at this point, it's a little funny to you that your getting so flustered over words your literal boyfriend is saying, you assumed after the two of you started dating you'd be less like this.
but no, renjun just has this power over you, you'll always be flustered by his compliments no matter how much you try to resist his crazy charm.
somehow, after minutes of getting flustered over a compliment and pretty chinese man's smile, you find your voice. "thank you".
renjun snickers, noticing the flush on your cheeks.
"your so cute".
"i don't think you should be talking".
renjun smiles.
he loves you, loves you so much.
#huang renjun#nct#nct dream#renjun nct#nct imagines#nct drabbles#nct scenarios#nct dream imagines#nct dream drabbles#nct dream scenarios#huang renjun imagine#huang renjun x reader#nct x reader#nct dream x reader#huang renjun x male reader#𑁍 ࣪˖ 𓂃 isa's works!
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Sleep: Micah Bell X Male Reader
Pronouns: None Mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘boy’
Physical Sex: None Mentioned
Rating: T/Language
Warnings: Soulmate AU, language, apprehension, cuddling, implied nightmares, Reader is friends with Bill, mention of Bill crushing on Kieran
Summary: You can only sleep at the same time as your soulmate. Yours doesn’t seem to sleep very often.
They never fucking sleep.
Ever since you’ve had to share a sleep cycle you rarely get rest. You find yourself begging through the connection for them to just go the hell to sleep at least once every couple of days but they hardly ever do. Naturally you started scouring for insomniacs but you gave up on that a long time ago. If you ever meet your soulmate, you’ll kill them for keeping you awake so often. It’s useful at least. Being awake and on guard when running with a gang of outlaws has its perks. These past few months have been hard and sleep has been even rarer than normal. It’s always you that wills your soulmates to close their eyes but it never lasts more than an hour anymore. You used to at least get a full night here or there.
It’s been so long since you’ve felt the pull that you barely recognize it. Even Bill has lulled himself to sleep by now and you had been thinking about trying to will the same from your soulmate because it’s been five agonizing days. But the tug in your brain, right behind your eyes, hits you first. You waste no time in getting to your tent and lying down, hoping that this might be a full night since it’s them that pulled on the bond.
So you sleep, falling so easily that you don’t have much time to dwell on why they pulled. You don’t wake up until morning and it’s slow, peaceful, something you haven’t felt in a long time. Usually when you wake up it’s because your soulmate is startled and the bond rouses you both. This time it’s you that opens your eyes naturally. It almost feels strange and it makes you wonder just what your soulmate did to make themself sleep so well.
It’s not like you can ask them.
So you get up and go about your chores until there's a moment for a break by the fire with Bill. He already has a beer in his hand and doesn’t seem to be planning on doing any work today.
“Morning, Bill.” You mutter as you sit.
“Mornin’...” He looks around for a moment. “You hear about what happened last night?”
You raise an eyebrow. “Something happened?”
Bill chuckles. “Apparently, Javier and Micah was drinkin’ and the rat bastard fell asleep… I ain’t never seen ‘em sleep but he were all curled up on the table like a baby.”
You think about it for a moment. You never have seen Micah sleep, but it sounds like it was quite a sight. The tough asshole all cozied up and… Micah slept?
“Did he sleep all night?” You ask.
Bill nods. “Arthur saw ‘em last night and I saw ‘em this mornin’... ya shoula seen it!” He laughs. “Arthur mighta got a picture, something ta use against the bastard when he’s being smart later.”
You feel a little panic shoot through you. “Did you see him up, uh, before me or-”
“Hold on a damn minute…” Bill laughs. “Ya don’t think-”
“I don’t know!” You snap. “I’m a little freaked out at the possibility.”
“You and Micah…” Bill snickers. “Wouldn’t that be all sweet, you gettin’ cozy with the camp snake!”
“Shut up, Williamson.”
He shakes his head, grinning. “I ain’t seen him up an’ about ‘till you was coming outta yer tent…”
“Shit…” You mutter.
He shrugs. “Probably just a coincidence, boy… least ya better hope it is!”
Bill bursts out laughing again and you plot his death until Javier hits him for being too loud while he’s trying to rest through his hangover. Across camp you can see Micah rubbing his eyes as he pauses his gun cleaning.
You hesitate for a moment before you speak. “Do me a favor, will you, Bill?”
He leans forward. “Ya want me ta spy on yer little soulmate, don’t ya?”
“I’d do the same for you, asshole.” You huff. “Just tell if we’re sleeping at the same time.”
Bill taps his finger on his bottle. “You’d do the same fer me?”
“Sure, Bill.”
“Keep an eye on the O’Driscoll then…”
You shake your head. “I’ve seen you sleep when he’s not… sorry.”
Bill mutters something to himself. “Fine… I’ll watch the bastard.”
“Thank you.” You sigh. “I’m sorry about the O’Driscoll an-”
“Don’t talk about it, boy.”
You raise your hands. “Fine, fine…”
Bill drinks for most of the day, but he does watch Micah and you. There’s a moment when he thinks Micah nods off against a tree, but he’s still awake when he gets closer to check. He doesn’t see anything for a while just because Micah doesn’t ever sleep. It doesn’t come until almost a week later when he sees Micah sitting by the fire with his head propped up by his hand, asleep. When he looks in your tent, you are too. He’s half drunk but he has the sense to test things. He makes sure he can see Micah from where he stands as he nudges your foot.
When you groan in annoyance, Micah jerks awake.
“Shit!” He laughs. “Ya ain’t gonna like this, boy.”
You look up at him from your bedroll and follow his eyes to the campfire where Micah stretches his neck slightly.
“Oh, you’re not serious?”
He chuckles. “Yer stuck with ‘em.”
You let your head fall back against your bedroll as you try to process the information. You hear Bill’s footsteps recede as he laughs to himself. It takes a lot to make yourself stand and you almost stop yourself several times on your way to the fire. But you make it and Micah greets you in a bored tone.
Just to see what it looks like, you will tiredness into your bond. Micah looks like he twitches, his head moving suddenly, and he sniffs. It’s hard to deny that.
“Micah?”
He hums.
“You don’t sleep much, do you?”
“What’s it to ya, cowpoke?”
You sigh. “Just wondering if it’s you or your bond.”
He looks at you from under his hat. “The hell ya care about bonds for?”
“My soulmates doesn’t ever fucking sleep.” You sigh. “And… neither do you.”
He chuckles. “You comin’ on ta me, cowboy?”
“You woke up a few minutes ago because Bill kicked me and woke me up.”
“Very funny…” Micah drawls.
You huff. “I’m serious, Micah.”
He sits up straight and sighs. “You’ve had yer fun, cowpoke. Real clever.”
“When you do sleep it’s not for very long and you wake up suddenly.” You lick your lips. “Come sleep and you’ll see.”
He looks at you with uncertainty. “Yer invitin’ me…”
“We don’t have to touch each other, Micah. Just come lie down and we’ll feel the bond.” You sigh. “As much as we might want to ignore it…”
Micah clears his throat, hiding his face with his hat as he thinks. “Fine, cowpoke.”
You stand and walk to your tent, Micah trailing behind you. He hesitates to lie down next to you, but he does. He removes his hat and lies on his back, leaving a few inches between your arms. Very lightly, you feel that tug behind your eyes.
“You… Ya feel that?” Micah asks.
You will the bond in return. “Did you?”
Micah’s breath catches and he sits up quickly, rubbing his eyes. You stare at the roof of your tent, processing the undeniable knowledge that you’re stuck with Micah Bell.
“‘m sorry.” He mumbles. “Fer keepin’ ya awake.”
You can’t help but smile. “Are you apologizing? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize.”
“Shut it.” He snaps.
You sigh. “Why don’t you sleep, Micah?”
There’s a click and you can see Micah removing his gunbelt and setting it aside. He lays back down, staring up at the tent. You watch him intently, a new light shining on him now that you know what he’s supposed to be.
“Just sleep.” He says, coughing lightly. “I ain’t gonna stop ya.”
You can feel him tugging at the bond and you let your eyes close. You’re asleep rather quickly and it feels a little like it did a week ago when Micah passed out drunk. It’s smooth, but this time it doesn’t last. You wake with the same usual start, but this time you can actually look at your soulmate and see what happened. Micah lies still on his back, his arm draped over his eyes as he takes deep breaths.
“You alright, Micah?”
“‘m fine.” He mutters.
You don’t like seeing him like this. He’s unsettled and it hurts you a little bit. So, very slowly, you scoot closer and put your arm around his torso. He tenses for a moment before he shuffles to lay on his side and lets you hold him against your chest. You don’t speak, you just feel that tug behind your eyes again. This time you don’t wake up, both of you sleep soundly now that you’ve found each other.
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#micah bell#red dead redemption x reader#red dead redemption x male reader#micah bell x reader#micah bell x male reader#x reader#x male reader
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