Tumgik
#this whole thing was unplanned actually
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Piccolo caught it! 😌
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hayaku14 · 2 years
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The downside of Kaitou KID being such a boy scout is that it eliminates a scenario where KID tells Shinichi to strip his clothes off because he's bugged and Shinichi stays naked because he doesn't have a change of clothes and Kaito doesn't even have his cape anymore (torn, probably) to cover him up, maybe even left with only his black clothes.
(As I was finishing this, I realized that the following scenario can also happen if Conan suddenly turned into Shinichi and Kaito doesn't have any extra clothes for him so lol yeah. Either way, I'm stripping Shinichi's clothes off!!!)
In a stolen car, speeding away from a burning facility they just infiltrated, probably being pursued (definitely no time to drop by somewhere for clothes lol):
"Not a word."
KID turns his head and drinks in Shinichi's bare body from head to toe, the upturn of his lips loud in the silence of the drive.
Shinichi's cheeks heat up without permission. He pulls his legs closer to his chest.
"Eyes on the road, KID."
"I'm a multitasker, Detective. I can do two things."
Shinichi doesn't need to look to know KID is grinning. He looks away as he forcibly pushes KID's face to turn front, "Take one more look and I'll make sure you can't do anything."
KID chuckles. That little shit.
"Besides, how do you not have any extra clothes on you at all? You didn't ditch them on purpose, did you?"
"Shinichi! How could you think so low of a gentleman such as I?" KID sniffs loudly as he wipes off fake tears with a handkerchief he pulled from god knows where. Oh, so he doesn't have clothes for me but he has his little knick knacks for dramatics. Bastard.
"Unfortunately, I truly do not have anything on me right now so I'll lend you my jacket in the meantime. We wouldn't want anyone but me seeing you like this afterall," he chirps out teasingly. Grin impossibly wider. Definitely a bastard.
Shinichi swiftly swipes the offered jacket away hoping the flush on his cheeks goes unseen.
It doesn't.
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cutemeat · 2 years
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more Sunny BitterSweet 16 shit...
this whole Four Walls Whiskey train of thought started cuz I was talking to my best friend last night about how I believe Dennis coming out/getting with Mac (so the gay shit of S16.. the Sweet) is low-key dependent on uh... Frank not being around anymore in some capacity (the depressing shit of S16.. the Bitter) ... cuz listen, I knew someone who Dennis reminds me of... like a lot.
The person I’m talkin about was my cousin’s uncle and he was really cagey and angry for a long time whenever he was around visiting with family and everyone was always like ‘why is he so angry all the time?’ and my mother was the only one who ever thought ‘... it’s cuz he’s gay and in the closet.’ (because she had some friends in the 90′s who were gay, so she was more familiar with those experiences than the rest of the family was) but no one believed her at the time... then eventually he moved away to NYC, far farrr away from the family, and finally got to be himself there and felt so much better.. but then he would still feel really on edge when he was at home. Like that super short fuse would come right back... But then his (very conservative and homophobic) mother who lived back home died. And after that, he finally came out to the family and introduced his boyfriend etcetc and he got so much more comfortable in general!... I just feel like something similar is happening with Dennis and Frank. lol.
#if u say this is just abt shipping shit i Will bite u#dennis is clearly gay and closeted like. thats the whole joke. thats been the joke.#again hes just more 'subtle' than Mac unless u are like... gay or have known someone who has experienced that kind of struggle#like of course audiences who arent trained to look for that shit wont see it unless its as obvious as they made it with like.. Mac#thats the whole point of MacDen being FOILs anyway... theyre both having the same struggles but it manifests in different levels of#obvious/subtle 'denial'.. it only got more overt with Dennis in S15 which makes me think.. Smth is coming#like they went thru this messy process of Mac 'coming out' unplanned so now they can do that with Dennis but hopefully more effective#since theyve gotten to learn from writing Mac's arc..#and now that they know Glenn is uh. gonna be on the show LOLOLOL#anyway back to 'thats always been the joke abt dennis'#but thats been the joke abt Mac/Den since like S5. that theyre clearly gay and in this relationship but cant even see it themselves#like rob n charlie werent joking about that part. again ive seen those tv shows genuinely written to be like 'haha they act gay funny!' and#Macden Break Up is NOT like that dude. all right.#until like... Dee who isnt even SUSPICIOUS that could Actually be happening in Macden Break Up.. she was just lashing out at them cuz they#called her a lonely spinster LOL. but it wasnt until someone pointed it out they both became more hyperaware/paranoid n as weird as they#started getting in like S6 onwards...#and she does the same 'joke' in Dee Day.. she just thinks two guys kissing is funny. but for Dennis its not cuz hes gay. like...#thats the whole fuckin thing#the joke IS that dennis feels like.. to someone like Dee or Frank.. his existence is just a big fucking joke.#thats why hes so eager to push that all onto Mac.. he wants a slice of feeling like a 'normal' like who frank wanted him to be#but it still doesnt fill him up. it doesnt actually make him feel better. it only tarnishes his relationship with mac further. and he looks#like a total ass in the process..#its fuckin sad dude#Glenn has litrlly said before writing Sunny RCG was not 'comedy ppl' n thats esp gotta be true of Glenn n Charlie.. so no i dont believe#everything they write is 'for the laughs'.. cuz theyre not comedy ppl LOL. in all honesty u dont need to be. n they cant write satire#super effectivley anyway n Thats why. theyre not comedy writers. thats why they need like.. Rob Rosell n Scott Marder.#to make it 'comedy' cuz RCG just writes rlly melodramatic characters. BUT#LIKE MELODRAMATIC PPL *ARE* FUNNY.. THESE PPL WHO TAKE THEMSELVES SO SERIOUSLY THEY NEVER REALIZE HOW CRAZY THEY SOUND#THATS GOOD CRINGE COMEDY DUDE. LIKE THE SINCERITY OF IT... THE SERIOUSNESS... but yea. again is why the show suffered so bad#w/o glenn being in the room...
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personasintro · 6 months
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Mutual Help | #57
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↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help
⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader
⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn
⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language, mature content
⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 10.2k+
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⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢ 
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When you truly think about it, you've probably let Jungkook in in more ways than one. Being in his presence is tempting. He is a temptation that messes up with your head. It is one of the reasons why you think the so-called break has been a smart decision. But he's not all that. He is still the same Jungkook whose presence is comforting. It's times like these when you're reminded of how much you love your friends. 
Catching up with him and talking about how the day has been for each of you, isn't something new. There's not that much that has changed. You only stopped fucking each others brains out. Though, you hate how much you already miss it. And you shouldn't feel like this. But you also don't want to overthink anything, or keep your mind busy with something that's probably better not to think about. 
Your dreams have been wild, the only time where you actually go back to how things were. Not all of them though. Maybe two or three since the camping trip and your decision. 
Despite the inner struggles, Jungkook is your comfort person. Oddly enough, even though he's in the center of your thoughts, he brings you the biggest peace and comfort. 
Tonight wasn't planned.
Luckily, you're always prepared when it comes to unplanned visits. All three of them love to surprise you (not that you mind), so your cupboard is never without at least one bottle of wine. Not being a much of a drinker yourself on casual evenings, you still suggest having a glass or two. 
Jungkook agrees. After reminding you of him having to drive back home, you suggest him staying over. He agrees again. Maybe him staying overnight might not be the best for your hormones, you are forced to believe in yourself. Isn't this the whole purpose of this? To go back to just being friends, the ones you've been two years ago?
When you think about those times, you think of happiness. Surrounded by the greatest friends you could've ever asked for. 
“Mind opening it?” 
Jungkook looks up, finding you standing in your kitchen with a bottle of wine in your hand, a wine opener in the other. Standing up, he goes to help you without any words but there's a slight amused smirk on his lips when you hand him everything. 
You share a look, not forgetting to playfully roll your eyes at him. 
“So many bottles of wine and still can't open any of them.” he teases you, hinting at all the wine one of them had to open.
“Listen,” you muse, “You guys always whine about wanting to drink wine.”
“That's not true,” he laughs, knowing that he's bluffing. “We would drink anything.” he adds, which holds some truth to it for sure. 
Feigning irritation, you motion for him to hurry. You watch him attentively, leaning yourself against a kitchen counter while he puts those muscles to work. He cuts the foil below the lower lip of the bottle, showing you how easy it is with a teasing tilt to his brow. Trying to hold back your laugh, you purse your lips instead before he inserts the screw in the center of the cork. He rotates it a few times, you're not sure because his eyes are on you.
“You're so cocky.” you comment, his brows shooting up as he lets out an audible laugh. 
“What? I am not,” he argues, laughing. “You're just too amusing to look at.”
He levers cork, at least he tries to because it seems to be stuck. It's going harder than usual, which you can tell from all the times you had the opportunity to see a similar scene. His brows furrow and lips press into a thin line. 
You cackle, “Maybe you got too cocky, buddy.”
“Shut up.” he mutters, his muscles bulging as a pop sound resounds, signaling the cork is levered successfully. 
Maybe not so much, because in a seconds the wine spills around Jungkook, staining his shirt as well. You gasp, a hand over your mouth as you two share a look. Bursting out laughing, you shake your head. 
“What did I say, too cocky.”
“Would you do it better?” he challenges, causing your grin to drop as your eyes narrow.
He puts the bottle down, the wine opener already in your sink as you grab a few kitchen paper towels and dry off all the spilled wine. Luckily, it's just a few droplets and no disaster is made. However, Jungkook's shirt has suffered the most. His entire white shirt is filled with dark red spots, turning purple from the wine's color. 
He sighs in a slight annoyance, easily grabbing the back of his shirt as he effortlessly pulls it over his head. Almost choking on your spit, you try to not react too much as you quickly throw away the wet paper into the bin. But you straighten yourself too quickly, almost bumping into Jungkook's chest as you stare wide-eyed at him. He looks down on you, confused by your almost panic-struck face. 
“What? Already too nervous at the sight of my chest?” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows at you.
You purse your lips, trying to play it cool as you chuckle. “You got naked all of a sudden. You just caught me off guard.”
“Is this me naked?” he laughs, “Come on.”
“You know what I meant.” you say through clenched teeth, poking him in his stomach, ignoring how hard it feels. “Besides,” you start, gulping. “Break, remember?” 
“I just took my shirt off,” he laughs, throwing his head back as you're met with his soft dimples and white toothy grin. “You never minded it before.”
“I never fucked you before, did I?” You lean yourself against the counter once again, hand gripping the edge of it tightly. 
Jungkook notices it, his amusement not so hidden behind the little twitch of his lips. Eyes back on you, they dance across your soft and slightly panicked features. “Am I that irresistible?”
“Cocky again?” you shoot right back, not giving him that pleasure of confirming his thoughts and feeding his ego. But he knows. One look at you and he seems to know it all. 
You make a mistake by allowing your eyes to drop, first at his lips and they disobediently trace down his chest, muscles and then the deep V-line. Oh fuck, you want this man . You mentally scream at yourself and throw hands, definitely disappointed in yourself. He's barely doing anything and you're ready to drop down on your knees.
“What's the point of taking a break, if we can't control ourselves?” you ask out loud, not quite sure if those words are only aimed at Jungkook, or you're letting your consciousness speak out loud. 
He watches you for a moment, getting closer and you stumble back, awkwardly getting back to your previous spot as he tries to hold back a laugh. It's not your fault your body is reacting! And your mind panicked. 
“Don't know about you, but I can control myself.” he says.
“You can?” you ponder.
“Mhm,” he nods, “Otherwise I would kiss you by now.”
“Kook!” you exclaim, already panting at those words as he gives you a smile. You don't look long enough to detect what kind.
“I would.” He's not ashamed to admit it. 
You watch him wet his lips. They look inviting. Automatically, your mind replays many times you've got to taste them, actually more than that. Your entire body feels hot, too hot in this small kitchen and you don't know whether to scream or cry.
“Break, remember?” he reminds you, a smirk dancing all over those damn lips and stunning features. He brushes past you, the stained shirt gripped in his hold as he makes his way to your bathroom.
You don't move. You can't.
All you muster to do is gulp all the saliva that have collected in your mouth, touching your hot cheeks with the back of your hand. Letting out a loud exhale, you ignore your strong heartbeat that feels like it's in your neck.
Quickly grabbing the two glasses for you and him, you ignore the sharp ringing sound. Suddenly, you're desperate for the wine – very happy about your friends insisting to have one at your place at all times. 
Perhaps, wine is not what you're desperate for at all.  
This is exactly what you were talking about.
Among all the things that are going against the morality of any friendship, thinking of Jungkook a certain way feels forbidden. And it should be. Maybe it is a little dramatic because it's not like you spend every minute of your day, thirsting over your best friend. But you've caught yourself thinking of him a few times a day. 
Just a few days after you came back from the trip, Maya visited your place for the first time. In fact, she sat on the exact spot where Jungkook is sitting right now. At first, you never felt like bothering her with your stupid shit, especially when she's in the middle of planning her wedding while working every day like a normal human being. 
But you couldn't take it. 
You wanted to take things off your mind, undoubtedly connected to only one person who's closest to you. Now in more ways than two years ago. 
However, you did want to get things off your chest as well and eventually, you've found your way back to him.
“I think I made a bad decision.” you told her when the topic Jungkook started.
Now, Maya might be the person who absolutely understands the craving and temptation he brings inside you, but she has also become your best friend whom you can share your inner battles with. 
“I shouldn't feel this way.”
“First of all, I think it might be a good decision to stop thinking of what should and shouldn't feel right. You're overthinking it.” she told you, ignoring your slightly offended look you sent her way. 
“He's my best friend.” you gritted through your teeth, suddenly growing overwhelmed with those thoughts again.
Deep down, you know you made the right decision. You know the reason why you made it in the first place. Yet, here you are, regretting it.
“Y/N, honey,” Maya's silky and comforting voice caught your attention. She angled her body toward you, leaning her head against her palm. “That feeling of… wanting him is not gonna go away with a snap of fingers.”
You frowned. You frowned for a while while she let you ponder in silence.
“I did it so we could focus on being friends. No intimacy.” you almost whispered, nibbling on your bottom lip. 
“And it's okay still wanting him to bend you over and fuck you.”
“Maya!”
You both laughed, the girly laugher filling your once quiet and sad place.
“It's okay to have regrets. Just go with the flow.”
That's the last thing she advised you before you asked her about the wedding. She advised you something you and Jungkook did – and look where it brought you.
Luckily for your sake, Jungkook has had a shirt in one of your drawers, the result of him staying at your old place a few times. Actually, you're sure there are a few Taehyung's things in one of your drawers as well.
Gulping down your nerves with your wine, you naturally grow warm and relaxed. You barely pay any attention to the movie, focusing on how Jungkook's shoulder and side of his body feels… nice. You tend to get sleepy and cuddly (among other things) when tipsy. You're on your third glass of wine, nowhere near drunk but the exhaustion of today has caught up to you. 
Jungkook's legs are outstretched, resting on your coffee table which you used to scold him for. Even though you often caught yourself doing the very same thing. Is it fair to scold someone for things you do as well?  
“Kook?” 
“Hm?” The soft, yet husky hum resounds from the man beside you, his hands resting on his stomach. 
“What do you think about… the break ?” You cringe at giving it a proper name.
Though, Jungkook understands what you mean. He's quiet for a moment and when you lift your head up, you see his confused expression before his eyes settle down on you.
“Because you never told me what you think.”
Staring at him, you notice his hair is longer than the last time you've seen him. It's not been that long ago, yet you notice the small change. You wonder if he's going to grow it out like last time. 
“Why you asking? Already regretting it, hm?” he teases, nudging you a little as your cheeks heat up. 
“What? No!” It sounds like a proper lie and your throat tightens. 
Whether Jungkook knows it or not, he decides not to tease you any further as his eyes focus on the screen of your television once again. 
“I don't know what I think of it,” he responds after a while. “You told me the reason behind it and I respect it.”
“But do you agree with it?”
“Where is this coming from?” he frowns, though it's soft and confusing, just like your little and sudden integration is. 
“Can you just answer?” you ask in annoyance. 
“Yeah, I agree with it.” He says, “Maybe we got carried away too much.”
He leans forward, causing your head no longer leaning against him as he grabs his glass of wine and takes a few sips of it before getting back to his previous position. This time, you're watching him attentively. Your head leaned against the couch while the movie goes completely ignored. You watch the dark liquid in his glass, swirling it around.
Did you get carried away too much? 
The only thing that changed was the fact you were having sex. Okay . Plus the never-ending thirst and temptation. Jungkook has shown you a different side of sex, something you've never experienced before. Perhaps, that's the reason why it felt so hard to let go. 
And you panicked. With the events that happened lately, you felt like you wanted to go back to when none of this happened. But were your arguments happening because you were having sex? 
“Do you miss it?”
Jungkook's brows lift up as you earn another glance from him. “You asking me if I miss fucking you?”
Your face gets hot all over again. “When you put it like this…”
He chuckles, leaning his head back as he stares at the ceiling. “It's been like a week.” he informs you.
As if you don't know. And what a week it has been! 
You're just curious, blaming it on the wine because your thoughts are set free.
“I hope you know that when I look at you, sex isn't what I see.”
You look at him, ears perked up in attention as your heart flutters. “I know.” you whisper.
“I'm not Taehyung. I can go without sex.” he says, a loud snort rippling through your throat as you cover your mouth. He gives you an amused grin. 
A silence follows and your thoughts work. Actually, they never stopped and now the alcohol inside you just urges them on. 
“I had a sex dream of you.” 
Completely oblivious of Jungkook taking another sip, he chokes on the dark liquid as he straightens himself from his position, gulping before coughing. “Jesus, Y/N.”
You give him an amused grin. “It was hazy. It didn't feel like a proper dream, you know what I mean? I feel like I had five dreams that night.”
It's true. You had a dream with him. It was very brief, much to your disappointment it ended too soon.
“This makes me sound like I'm thinking with my dick only.”
“You have no dick, Y/N.” Jungkook reminds you, snickering. 
“You know what I mean.” you mutter in response. 
Jungkook settles down his wine. He's a little surprised to see you sitting up, watching him attentively as he leans back. “What?”
“Nothing, you look good.”
For the second time tonight, Jungkook almost chokes on his spit. Shaking himself out of the sudden shock, he clears his throat. “Are you flirting with me?”
“No,” you say like it's the clearest thing in the world. “Just saying.”
He frowns, eyeing you suspiciously. As if he can't quite figure out what's going on inside your head. “Are you drunk?”
Jungkook knows you and your limits. You're a little tipsy, so is he but you definitely seem to show it more than he is. 
“No.” 
You sigh, sitting onto your heels before briefly tracing the veins that adore Jungkook's hands and arms. Is it June night or has it suddenly gotten too warm?  
Jungkook catches you eyeing him, trying to hide his subtle smirk. He knows. “Break, remember?” 
“Mhm,” you hum, completely ignoring the little reminder. “What a stupid idea.”
“Okay, I think you're drunk.”
“No, I am not.” you argue, frowning at him as he watches you in complete amusement. “I've thought about it a lot.”
“Is the wine making you horny?” Jungkook questions. 
No, you do.  
Though, you keep your mouth shut. You ignore him. “I know why I made that decision…” you trail off. 
Jungkook raises his brow, waiting for you to continue. But? It's written all over his face.
“I miss you.”
He stares, blinking a few times. “You mean you miss my–”
“No, no. Maybe. I mean, no. You're not just that to me–” you quickly hurry to explain. 
The problem is, you're not sure how to explain whatever it is you want to say. Whatever you think of pours out of your mouth. Usually you have enough time to think of what you're about to say, but right now you're unhinged. Maybe it's the result of your own frustration.
He is patient. 
He's confused as fuck, well probably – at least you think so because his expression is neutral and he simply watches you, not ushering to explain or elaborate more. 
He watches your eyes dance across the space around him, until your eyes settle on him. Then wander over his body until you shamelessly eye his wet lips, tainted by wine a little. He knows that look. He has seen it on many occasions.
“I'm not drunk, I promise.” you suddenly tell him. “I know I make no sense right now but…”
“Tell me what you want,” he tells you simply. “What's going on inside that pretty head?”
And you almost fold immediately, cursing that mouth of his.
“Trust me, it's not that pretty right now.” you mutter.
He laughs, “I can imagine.”
Ignoring what's that supposed to mean , you shift on your spot. “I know I wanted a break, but what if we did this one last time?”
You hate how nervous you suddenly feel. Is it embarrassing to admit such a thing? The last time you had a sex it wasn't under great conditions. It was mind-blowing and definitely did the work, but still. 
Scooting closer to him, he attentively watches you as you lick your lips. “I mean… There's something I would like to try. And I trust you the most.”
Jungkook pulls his feet off the coffee table, setting them down on the floor as you make your way toward him. He lets you. He even helps you to sit down in his lap. Your hands are sprawled across his chest, slowly caressing the thin material as you feel his muscles under it. 
“You're finally gonna let me fuck this ass?” he asks, eyes hooded lazily as he grabs your ass and squeezes the soft flesh. 
Excitement floods your lower region, what could be considered as butterflies swirl inside your stomach. 
“Fuck no,” you breathe out, “You're not going anywhere near my ass.”
Jungkook pouts, cheeks tinted pink from the wine he has drank. “Shame.”
You giggle, “Just one more time.” you tell softly, inching closer as your lips hover over his. 
He breathes out, nose nudging yours. One thing is sure, alcohol sometimes makes both of you horny. You're not the type to go and look for a potential hook-up out there. And neither is Jungkook. At least you think so.
“You agree?”
“You're making this very hard for me, you know that, right?” Jungkook mutters, lips almost touching yours as his hold on your asscheeks tightens. 
“Why's that?” you hum, teasingly playing with his hair until your fingers caress the nape of his neck. 
“You just do,” he says before adding, “First you want a  break and now you're on my lap, giving me those eyes.”
“What eyes?” you play clueless, causing him to chuckle.
“Those fuck me eyes.”
“You said you wanted to kiss me in the kitchen.”
“I did.” he hums, agreeing. 
“You want this too, right?”
He looks up, lazily, eyes clouded with need and lust. 
Again. He is your comfort place. He is comfortable and being in a position like this – you've got no regrets and you want him. Even if it's for the last time for God knows how long. There's no telling if you're ever going back to hooking-up. Usually, that is the plan when there's a word break involved.
Fuck focusing on your friendship for now. What did Maya say? Go with the flow? 
“Yeah, but I don't want you to regret anything.”
“I'm never gonna regret this.”
You're not sure who moves first. Whether it's you or Jungkook, it doesn't matter. Your lips finally meet in a hard kiss, molding together as he deepens it. He kisses you, hard and needy, and you almost cry at that feeling. Fuck, you really did miss this. Before you can think of how wrong this might be, your want for him, you completely ignore it. Any possible morals are out of the window as you gasp into Jungkook's mouth.
He tastes like wine. You both do.
Eventually, you're forced to pull away to catch a breath. Jungkook's crotch underneath you hardens, informing you that he's aroused just as much as you are.
“What you had in mind?” he asks, voice raspy.
Pulling away with a smile, you turn off the television as you stretch your hand toward him. He watches you, slowly taking it as his big hand envelopes yours. He gets to his feet, his lean and hard body touching your side as you grow impatient. You lead him toward your bedroom, closing the door with a loud thud but not before turning off the lights in your living room. The bills are important, right? 
Jungkook stands at the edge of your bed before you swiftly push him, causing him to sit down with a tiny smirk. Ignoring the smug face, you stand between his legs. 
“Should I be worried?” he asks, hands on your hips as he caresses them. Trying not to swoon too much over that simple action, you pry his hands off you.
“Lay down.”
His brows raise momentarily. 
“I see.” he mutters knowingly. 
“Now.” you urge him, glaring at his smirk widening. “Wait.”
He cocks his brow at you.
“Take off the damn shirt.”
He chuckles, reaching behind him and tugging the shirt over his head. Fuck . Does he have to look attractive even while taking his shirt? God. Fucking hell. You did miss him. 
Tossing the shirt on the floor, he sits there watching you up and down as you just stand there and admire his figure. One he worked hard for, yet it paid off entirely.
Fucking wine.
Before you can demand another thing, he gives you one last look of amusement before he scurries further down your mattress. You watch him lay down, making himself comfortable on your pillows as he leans his upper body against the bed frame. What a sight he is. 
He watches you, silently and attentively, the entire time you get to your closet. You slide the door open, rummaging the bottom of it. His eyes are on you. You feel them on your back, watching your every move. While the fire that sits in the pit of your stomach, full of excitement, you pull out the item you've been looking for. 
Just as you slide the closet door closed and turn around to face him, you see his smirk drop as he stares genuinely taken back. Now it's your turn to smirk as you swirl the fluffy pink handcuffs Taehyung kindly gifted you around your point finger.
“Fuck no.”
The response is immediate. 
You get on the bed, taking the handcuffs with you of course. Jungkook watches you with a frown settled on both his face and lips. You get onto his lap, sitting right on top of his hardening cock. 
“Why not?”
“I'm not getting handcuffed.” he states, eyeing you carefully as you place them beside you and start caressing his naked chest. 
It's clear to say you want to be in control. It's debatable though. Whenever Jungkook has shown his dominant side when it came to sex, you were just as much in control. And you love and enjoy every second of him being in charge. This time, you want to be on top and play with him. Or maybe that sounds wrong. You want to give him pleasure, focus on him. To try something new. 
You get closer to Jungkook, kissing his sharp jaw as he clenches it, watching you carefully but not moving just yet. You're sly. He's reminded of you being a little minx. You continue your path down his neck, kissing his skin as his chest moves, breathing slow and steady. His chest is neck, you pepper the skin with soft kisses just as you stop below the hem of his jeans. 
He bites onto his lower lip harshly, meeting your gaze as you look up through your lashes. 
“Can I take them off?” you ask, talking about his jeans.
“You don't have to ask.”
You grin, reaching for the belt as you undo it. His button and zipper are next before Jungkook helps you to take off his jeans. 
“Just wanna make you feel good,” you tell him, eyeing his hardening and evident erection. “Can I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” he sighs, looking up at the ceiling. “You wanna be in control, huh?”
“Yeah,” you nod, “What? You think I can't do it?”
His lips twitch. “No, no.” he assures you, though you're not sure if he's telling the truth.
Narrowing your eyes at him, you cup his bulge as you get on your knees, leaning down to his crotch. You palm him, his jaw clenched while you're trying not to moan at the feeling of his hard cock. Just the thought of pulling him out and having him inside you makes you wet. 
Giving him one last look, you momentarily stop before you lean down completely and press a kiss to where his tip is, on top of his briefs. 
“Fucking hell,” he gasps. “You're already teasing me.”
“What? No. I'm just taking my time.” you assure him cutely, smirking up at him which tells him otherwise. 
Before he can react, you lift yourself up and carefully straddle him. You reach for the handcuffs, ignoring the way his cock is almost digging into your own crotch. 
“Y/N.” he warns you.
You pout at him. “But why?” you almost whine. “You scared of handcuffs or what?”
“Keep talking and you're gonna be the one handcuffed.” 
“I promise I won't do anything bad.” 
He watches you, frowning and not totally sold on your idea. It definitely has something to do with his male ego. Jungkook is naturally dominant and while he had you on top multiple times, you never handcuffed him or showed this type of dominance. You reach for your oversized shirt, tugging it over your head as you expose your breasts to him. He gulps, watching the way they bounce from the single movement. Your nipples are already perked up, sensitive like always and perhaps, it's from the arousal as well. 
He goes to touch them, mindlessly and automatically. His mouth opens in shock when you slap his hand away, even though you want nothing more than for him to touch you. 
“What–”
“I wanna try this, Kook.” You're playing with him already. You pout and give him the puppy eyes, finger trailing down his abs. “You always asked what I want to try and this is one of them.”
He sighs, hand rubbing his forehead. “Fuck, okay.”
“Really?”
Jungkook almost smiles at how excited you sound. What the hell are you planning? 
In reality, you're just going with the flow. 
You reach for the handcuffs, knowing they're going to work well with your bed frame. You can easily handcuff both of Jungkook's hands. But just as you're about to reach for his hands, he automatically pulls away which causes you to give him a glare. He rolls his eyes, offering you his wrists. You sit on your knees, telling him to lay down completely. He does, with the same frown that makes you giggle under your breath. You take his wrists and bring them up to your bed frame.
Jungkook takes that time to watch you work on the handcuffs from below, feeling them wrapping around his wrists. Wanting to curse, he drifts his attention elsewhere and watches your breasts that are right above him.
You pull back with a successful and triumphal grin, watching him tugs onto them. While he mentally curses Taehyung for giving you such a stupid gift ever, you admire your work. You lean forward again, making sure they hold and Jungkook takes that time enveloping your nipple into his mouth. You gasp and flinch at the sudden feeling, pulling back to find smirking Jungkook.
“Couldn't resist,” he says cheekily.
Despite his current and clearly submissive position, he looks anything like it. He's here, your cheeks hot and heart beating fast. You don't think you'll ever grow tired of him showing his crave for you. You've said it multiple times in your head, but you've never felt wanted as much as you feel with Jungkook. 
“Well, then start resisting.” you say smartly, ignoring the smug face. “Stop looking so cocky, you bastard.” 
But he doesn't stop. He's smirking, looking at you because despite everything, he's in control. Frowning at that, even though you secretly love it, you stand up and get out of your pajama shorts. Revealing that you aren't wearing any underwear, Jungkook watches you hungrily, his head lifted thanks to the pillows under it. He's got a good view of you at the end of your bed. 
You smirk. Men. One look at a naked body and they fold. 
“Come here and sit that pussy on my mouth.”
Or not.
You give him a look, seeing him lazily lay there with his arms above his head. 
“You don't get to make demands.” you inform him, watching that smug face wipe away slowly. 
While you're completely naked, you sit on his calves and lean down to play with the hem of his briefs. 
“This is torture,” he informs you back. “This is exactly why I didn't wanna be in these fucking handcuffs.”
“Already complaining?” you throw back. 
He presses his lips into a tight line, keeping quiet. 
Torturing a little more, you hover him once more with lips dangerously close to his. “That's what I thought.”
He chases your lips but you pull away, giggling when you're met with the usual frown. 
Getting back to your position, you pull down his underwear. His cock springs free, shamelessly slapping against his abdomen before it stands upright. Minus the little facade that you have going on of planning to tease him, you're just as desperate to move further if not more. 
So you wrap your hand around the base of him, wrapping your lips around the tip as you taste his pre-cum. Jungkook sighs in delight, allowing himself to close his eyes in a sudden relief. You lick the underside of him, knowing what you have to do since you've done it multiple times before. This is nothing new, yet it still feels amazing each time. 
The handcuffs make a sound against the wooden frame, just as you let your mouth wrap around him some more, taking him deeper. The clank of them makes you look up, biting back a laugh when you see Jungkook's frustrated face. 
“What were you gonna do?” 
He growls, warning you not to tease him some more. Well, it surely isn't as much fun for him as it is for you, but that doesn't mean he can't enjoy it. It makes sense. This is the first time where Jungkook can't touch you because he's physically unable to. You understand the frustration, you do. With a silent promise, you make it worth it. 
Putting his cock inside your mouth, you hollow your cheeks and deliver him pleasure. Your hand and mouth works on him, and not even hair getting into your face stops you. You know if it weren't for Jungkook's hands not being available at the moment, he would wrap his hand around it, making sure it doesn't get in the way and he can see you.
“Mhm, yeah.” He mutters from above you, enjoying your mouth wrapped around him.
It's not enough, you know it isn't but you're not planning to make him cum. You've barely started and in order for him to enjoy this, there's more you want to do. You don't want to make it lame since this is your first time doing this. You're not going to lie. You like having him this… helpless. You enjoy it, it's a nice change from the usual cockiness.
You eventually pull away, making sure to suck him until the last minute. A trail of saliva connects the tip of his cock and your lips, causing you to wipe it with your thumb. He watches you the entire time with dark eyes, not questioning why you stopped. 
This time, he lets you be in control because you don't look like you're about to deny his orgasm and make him truly suffer. On the opposite, he stares at you attentively as you simply turn around and throw your leg over his chest, facing him with his back. 
“Fuck.” he curses silently from behind you, watching you lean forward to his cock once again. 
However this time, your ass and cunt are right in his face. He sees how wet you are, just that alone makes him smirk because he knows you won't be able to withhold your own pleasure for much longer. After all, it does make his ego bigger knowing you're affected. You're clueless to his inner thoughts, even though you do realize how wet you are, it doesn't even cross your mind, not even when the air hits your core.
It's not until you have Jungkook's cock back in your mouth when you suddenly feel his mouth on you. You don't expect the swipe of his tongue, gathering your juices which makes you flinch in surprise. Throwing him a glance across your shoulder, you're met with the same cockiness you've seen a handful of times. 
“Lemme eat this pussy out.” he almost begs.
“How am I supposed to focus then?” you question, the remains of wine causing you to speak your thoughts right away. 
His lips twitch. You give him no reaction though, letting it up to him as you turn around and arch your back. Jungkook is a menace. He gets what he wants either way, shameless as ever as his mouth envelopes your clit as he sucks. 
You gasp, leaning your forehead against his thigh while your hand stops working on his hard cock. For fuck sake. Frustration is what you feel because for a split second, you realize Jungkook is in control. He eats you out, your body and determination practically begging to be touched. Reminding yourself that this is not supposed to be totally about you, you force your hand to get to work. You're realizing you're not doing a half of a good job at delivering pleasure at the moment.
“Focus,” Jungkook says against your leaking cunt. You can imagine his mouth already being soaked in your juices, dripping it down his chest. Even the single imaginary sight of that makes you want to let out the biggest groan. “I thought you're great at multitasking.” 
Apparently not when it comes to this , you want to bite back but you can't. You simply cannot. It's like the moment Jungkook touches you, you're already gone. 
Somehow, after a moment of realization and determination yet again, you take him into your mouth. 
“That's it,” he groans against you, sending vibrations right to your core. The wet sounds coming from behind you create a sinful proof of your doings, ones you don't mind at all. 
You're close.
You can't focus. 
Not with Jungkook's mouth that skilfully slowly but surely brings you to your end. And then the cocky bastard opens his dirty mouth again, not minding what it's been doing, not even a bit. 
“Wanna spread this cunt. Come on, rub yourself against me.”
Ignoring Jungkook's pleas of wanting to be suffocated by your pussy, you shake yourself out of a familiar daze full of desire and lust. This bastard! 
You pull away, not only to give him one last taste of your mouth, but also taking the approaching orgasm from yourself. Jungkook's quiet until a noise of both surprise and disappointment fills your bedroom. You get off his lap, facing him while you give him a perfect view of your messy appearance. One he's undoubtedly the reason for. 
“Why would you do that?” he whines, tugging onto the handcuffs again. His face grows frustrated at the restraint. 
And then it's gone. What was a frustration just a second ago, you watch his entire face morph into a perfect slowly growing smirk. 
He's satisfied. Satisfied that once again, he proved you just how much control he has over you even with barely any way of touching you. He can't use his hands, he can barely move as they stay handcuffed above him, secured around your bed headframe. But that hasn't stopped him. No. He was cunning enough that at the first chance of being somewhat close to you, he used his mouth. 
“You'll pay for that.” you inform him, trying to keep your features hardening and not to melt when Jungkook's lips stretch into a wide grin. 
“For what?” he scoffs, “For almost making you cum?”
Ignoring the obvious and amused jab at you nearly losing it (when he's the one handcuffed), you nibble on your inner cheek. 
“Come on, free me now. You had your fun.”
Your eye almost twitches at that. 
“Lemme fuck you, you love it from behind, huh?”
Despite his nasty words leaving your stomach fluttering, more than it should, you don't let him get past your walls. You sigh, loud so he can hear it perfectly and maybe make him feel unsure of what's about to come. He stays silent. Watching you as you reach for your nightstand, you feel his eyes appreciating your nudity before they go back to wondering what you're doing. 
You pull out the sex-toy he gifted you, the one you both used two or three times. His brows are pinched together, probably wondering what and who you're going to use it for.
Now, since you've never done this with Jungkook before, you being in full control which has proved to be debatable, you've no idea how he will possibly react. You can only assume. From being in an intimate relationship with Jungkook, you've learned a lot. Apart from the physical side of your own sexual preferences and desires, you've come to notice how Jungkook loves to feel you up. He loves to touch you, explore your body each time like he has never done before.
Even without having many sexual partners before, it's safe to say you've never felt more comfortable than being in Jungkook's hands. Quite literally. The way he touches you… he knows what he's doing. 
Obviously, this is in a way a punishment for him. Actually, now that you think about it, you're not sure if he's doing it purely because you want to, or because of another reason.
So when you place yourself at the end of your bed, making sure you have enough space to lay down, you do exactly that. With one swift movement, you spread your legs apart, giving him a full on view on the thing he couldn't get enough of. 
All cockiness is smeared off his face. And while triumph burns inside you – from this great achievement – a realization hits him.
“No.” he murmurs, watching the way you smirk as you turn on the sex-toy. You bring the fake imitation of cock to your clit, moaning at the vibration as soon as it touches you. 
Bottom lip caught between your teeth, there's a clank resounding in front of you as your lips twitch. “I'm definitely having my fun now.” 
“I was–I was just teasing. Come back here, baby.”
You should've probably taped his mouth shut. The freaking petname really tests your patience and determination. 
“I'm serious.”
But he's ignored by you, at least you act like you can't hear him, enjoying the way he groans in protest. However, you can be just as teasing and you moan loudly, letting the dildo's tip enter you. 
“Y/N,” he growls, “This is not funny.”
“Oh, fuck.” 
You would have laughed if you weren't so focused. The truth is, you're sensitive down there – something that's caused by Jungkook and his always running mouth. As much as you itch to get to him and toss the sex-toy as far as possible, you don't give him that satisfaction. At least, not now. 
“Who's in control now, Jeon?” you hum, opening your eyes clouded by both amusement and lust. 
“Okay, I get it.” he grits through his teeth. “Come here.”
“Say it nicely and maybe I'll consider.”
If looks could kill, you're sure you would be six feet under. But one moment of leaning your head down, moaning out loud, you notice his jaw clenching before he clears his throat.
“Come here,” he says softly.
Cracking your eyes, you grin in achievement as you sit up. You're too impatient, you want to touch him. No scratch that. You want to feel him. You want him inside you. But you're playing your part in this act, making it seem as if you have all the time in the world. 
You turn off the sex-toy, the one he probably mentally curses for buying, and you come closer to him. The expectation and despair on his face makes you want to laugh. He's cute. And freaking hot too. 
His chest heaves, it glistens with a sheer coat of sweat. His cologne and scent that's glued to his skin has filled your bedroom. He watches you carefully, almost as if he expects you to tease him more. But when you sit back down on his thighs, facing him, he sighs in relief. His cock begs for attention and you give him a few pumps, ones that make his eyes flutter shut as he gets what he wants. Partly.
You leave the dildo next to you, planning on using it later as you glance at your nightstand. A look of surprise and then disappointment fills your face, one that Jungkook quickly questions.
“What?”
“I've got no condoms. You have some with you?”
Jungkook snickers, “You mean did I bring condoms with me when you decided to have a break from this ?”
You give him a glare, “I wasn't planning on having sex.”
“Do I look like I was?” he questions with a raise of his brow. 
“Don't you have them with you most of the time?”
“Clearly not,” he rolls his eyes, “What's the issue anyways? I haven't had sex with anyone else.”
You're the one who rolls their eyes now, “You would be really quick if you have. It's been like a week since the trip.”
Deep down, you know Jungkook could've gone anywhere and had sex during this week. If he wanted to.
“And you know it's not about that.” you add.
“Let's end this with a bang. Since you know, we're not supposed to have sex then.”
“Are you mocking me?” you frown. He purses his lips to avoid smirking. 
“What did you say? One last time?”
“You know, keep talking and I'm gonna finish myself in front of you.”
“Not what I had in mind but,” he acts as if he's thinking hard. “It would still be something. I love that cunt.”
Almost choking on your spit, you quickly recover. You need to wipe that smirk off his face. “Or I could just leave you here, handcuffed and naked.”
“You wouldn't!” he exclaims.
“Try me.”
He shakes his head with a disapproving frown. “We don't have that many options. Either raw or go to sleep.”
What are you even talking about? Your coincidence scolds you.
“You're right,” you say, already hovering. “I love this cock.” you tell him cheekily, watching his eyes widen just as you grab him by the base. 
You bring it to your entrance, teasing him a little (and yourself too) but the glare he gives you just prolongs it. He lifts his hips, almost entering you and you gasp, giggling. 
“Who's impatient now?”
“You're testing my patience right now.”
“If I were you, I wouldn't talk too much.” you hum, warning him cutely which causes his features to harden. Oh my god, perhaps you're enjoying this way more than you thought you would! 
Despite everything, you don't want to deprive him and yourself of the pleasure. It's easier to give him one cheeky grin as you guide him to your entrance. His eyes dance across your exposed breasts, looking down at where you're about to connect. That's enough for you to slowly sink down his length, gritting your teeth from the immediate heat that swallows you whole. 
Sex is amazing. But sex with Jungkook has shown you it's more than that.
You would've never thought how addicted you can become to this. Maybe it's a little too dangerous but you don't seem to care. Not at the moment anyway, not when he spreads your folds and stretches your warm and wet walls. Oh god. 
It takes you a moment to fully sink down on him, his hard length settled inside of you as you feel every inch of him. Jungkook groans, throwing his head back. Though, he doesn't usher you to move and gives you space to get used to him. You swear you can feel him in your stomach. 
Starting to roll your hips, your clit brushes against his pubes as his jaw tightens once again. That's not enough for him, but he doesn't voice the annoyance and frustration just yet. He lays his head down properly, dark eyes watching you and the way your body rolls.
You bite your bottom lip, momentarily closing your eyes just to open them and see him staring. “You like that, baby?” you joke, watching his hardening features turn into amused once as you both giggle.
“Baby?”
“You call me that too.”
“Mhm, I do.” he hums as you spread your palms over his chest and lean forward. “You love it.”
“Maybe a little bit too much.” you confess, laughing at your obvious confession.
And then you lift your hips, his cock rubbing against your wall which quickly wipes away his smirk. You let the head of his cock stay inside you, his entire length coated with your juices. 
“Don't play with me,” he says. “This is torture.”
“Then beg.” you propose, watching his features turn into pure shock before they change into devastation. 
It's funny. Makes you giggle all over again.
“What?”
“You heard me. Beg,” you grin, “Or what? Is that against your male ego?”
“You're so cruel,” he begs. “If I knew–Hey now!” he exclaims when you let him slide out of you, your lips curving into a smirk. 
You get off him entirely, laying on your tummy beside him. Elbow leaned against the soft mattress, you prop up your chin on your palm. Jungkook groans, frustration getting the best out of him as you grab the vibration. Turning it on, you catch his attention as you press the vibrating tip against his hard cock. He flinches, cussing you out immediately.
“Yah!” 
You laugh, “What? Does it hurt?”
“I don't know if you noticed, but I'm fucking hard and sensitive.” he grits through his teeth and you pout. “Just do something.”
Rolling your eyes, you turn off the sex-toy, playing into the little facade you created as you toss it away. Lifting yourself, you hoist your leg over his hips and face him with your back. He barely has any chance to react as you sink down on him again. This time, you actually move. He breathes out in relief. 
“I knew you were a good girl.” he mutters, causing you to stop. “No, no. Continue.” he reacts immediately which makes you smile.
You hold your balance by gripping his legs, just below his knees as you start riding him. It's hard to focus on other things than just his cock inside you. 
“Mhm, fuck.” You hear behind you, a soft moan leaving your own mouth when he hits your good spot. 
You pick up your pace, your ass smacking against Jungkook's skin but when you start to feel the familiar heat gathering in your lower religion, you're forced to stop. You don't want to cum too soon. Jungkook whines, cursing under his breath. 
“You're so whiny.” you comment, sending him a look of amusement across your shoulder. 
He's frowning, mouth pouting without realizing as he tugs onto the handcuffs again. Realization hits him and that makes you laugh again. He forgot he's handcuffed and wanted to touch you. 
“Just wait until you're done.” he threatens. 
Ignoring the way your stomach tightens in excitement, you don't give him that satisfaction of recognizing his effect that he has on you. Instead, you turn around to face him, sitting back on his thighs as you lean toward him.
“One last time, remember?"
“You also said break and look at us now,” he bites back smartly. “When I asked you if you're gonna let me in, this wasn't what I had in mind. But I'm not complaining.”
You start tracing random patterns on his abs, they flex under your touch and you know he's holding himself back. “That would be awful if you were complaining.” you hum.
“Y/N,” he whines. “Just do something.”
“I told you. Beg… or ask nicely.” you hum, moving your finger up to his chest.
“Please,” he says dryly.
You lift your brow at him, giving him an unimpressed glare. “I said nicely.” you remind him.
He groans, almost ready to throw a tantrum. Oh, this is so much fun!  
“Please, wanna fuck that pussy.”
You smile, leaning forward to get close to his face. His breath hitches as your lips hover over his. The faintest touch of them earns the corner of his lips before you pull away. You wrap your hand around his cock, pumping him a little before you put him inside you again. Jungkook hums and nods, obviously too joyful that you've finally listened. You don't waste any time, lifting your hips up and down as you ride him. 
“This is what you wanted?”
“Fuck yes.” Jungkook breathes out, muscles tensing. “Fuck, that's it. Yeah, just like that.”
He says, forcing his eyes to stay open as he watches your breasts bouncing. 
“Fuck, baby.”
Despite being fully engrossed in chasing your orgasm, you still smile in the midst of it. 
You're close to cumming, stopping your movements shortly after which leaves Jungkook whining. Loud and clear. 
“You were close, weren't you?” he teases after frustration slowly fades away.
“Shut up,” you bite. 
“Come on. Fuck me. Please .” he begs softly.
Nibbling on your bottom lip, you comply and move your hips again. This time, you don't stop. You chase your orgasm while Jungkook coaxes you through it.
“That's right, use me.”
“You like this?” you breathe out, throwing your head back as you feel yourself getting closer and closer.
“I love it,” he corrects you. “I'm gonna miss this cunt so much.”
“Don't say that,” you croak out. “You're making me regret things.”
“No regrets,” he groans. “Fuck, yeah.” He moves his hips up, meeting your thrusts in the middle as you whimper.
A few more thrusts and one big from Jungkook, you come undone above him. The knot snaps inside you and your entire body stills as your walls start clenching and unclenching. Your juices drip down Jungkook's length, undoubtedly staining your sheets as well but that's the least of your worries. 
Jungkook watches you come back to reality, eyes clouded with lust.
“You think you can go for round two?” he asks, watching you breathe out an audible chuckle. 
You can.
Giving him a nod, you settle onto rubbing his chest softly while trying to catch your breath.
“Uncuff me,” he says, stealing all your attention once again – this time not caused by the usual charms of the man under you. “Just wanna touch you.” he adds, softly and with a pout.
“What if I don't want you to touch me?” you hum, starting to roll your hips again which makes him hiss.
He grunts, closing his eyes. “Don't lie to yourself.”
Regardless of both of you aware of the lie, you keep smiling knowing he's damn right. 
“I'm not gonna do anything, I swear.” he promises, whining as your movements deepen.
Feeling like you could chase your second orgasm of the night, you reach behind you and put your hands on his thighs. Jungkook stares, eyes wide despite the evident desire and need.
“Holy fuck, you're gonna be the end of me.”
You giggle. You freaking giggle and Jungkook swears he's done for. 
“You little minx,” he grunts. “You wanna make me cum without me touching you? That's fucking cruel.”
“I like to be cruel sometimes.” you tease.
As much as you wish his hands would be on you, touching you everywhere and the way only he can, this is so much fun. 
While Jungkook's eyes are the only touch you can feel, the dark irises leave hot traces all over your skin, you enjoy his attention on you. It's no secret he alone brings you more confidence than he can ever imagine. Not to grow sentimental, especially right now and at this dirty moment, but for that you'll be forever grateful to him. You're scared for what's about to come in the future. You're too scared to think about it and you automatically shut down any hints of those thoughts coming up. 
You enjoy this while you can.
After this, you want to focus on your friendship with him. It's for the best.
You could easily regret doing this with him right now. Especially after the idea of taking a break. In reality, you don't. There are no regrets as of now and you hope they won't come. You won't allow it. 
“Play with your tits, baby. Show me,” Jungkook pants. 
Having you slowly start to bounce on his cock again brings a rush of heat to every inch of his body. You obey, grasping your breasts into your palms while you squeeze to soft flesh. Jungkook whines and groans, clearly still frustrated he can't touch them or anything at this point. 
“Pinch your nipples.” he orders, not full of dominance like you're perhaps used to, but full of desperation. 
You moan as you listen to him, bringing more pleasure to your body as you imagine it's Jungkook's hands instead. Eyes closed yet again, you can't bring yourself to keep them open. Your muscles strain, lungs begging for more air as you feel your heartbeat drumming in your eardrums. 
“Fuck,” you pant, “Think I'm gonna cum.” you force yourself to admit, totally clueless to Jungkook obviously seeing and feeling it. 
“Rub your clit for me. Fuck.”
Hand reaching between your legs, it's a little tricky to fully obey as you're still bouncing on his cock, close to cumming. You still rub your clit, whimpering and stuttering things you can't remember. Whatever leaves your mouth blends with the sounds of skin slapping. One hand on Jungkook's abdomen, you make sure you stabilize yourself while the other works on your clit. 
“Keep going, keep going,” Jungkook whimpers. “Please, please, please.”
You do. Your thighs burn but nothing won't stop you. Orgasm comes crashing down on you for the second time. Your walls clench around Jungkook's cock, sucking him dry as Jungkook warns you of his own approaching orgasm. 
“Fuck, fuck, I'm cumming.” he manages to get out.
Just in time, you barely make it and lift yourself as Jungkook's thick cum shoots up. The warm liquid lands on your pussy, some of it getting onto your lower belly trickling down your thighs. 
Jungkook curses under his breath, head dropping down onto pillows as his chest heaves. Yours too. Dropping down next to him, there's no care in the world as you both try to come back to your senses. 
After a minute of harsh breathing fading, Jungkook comments. “Almost didn't make it.”
Looking at him, you both grin at each other. “I made it.”
He scoffs playfully, amused by your confidence. He's restrained, therefore it would be completely your fault if he came inside you. 
“Gonna uncuff me now?” 
“Oh shit.” you curse, sitting up as you grab the key off your nightstand, leaning forward to uncuff Jungkook's wrists. 
As soon as you do, Jungkook's arms shoot down as the pair of pink fluffy handcuffs land on your floor. You watch him rub his wrists, frowning before looking at you as you shoot him a sheepish grin.
“You enjoyed that?”
“Probably more than I thought I would.” you giggle.
Jungkook's lips twitch. “At least one of us did.”
“You came, didn't you?” you raise your brow at him. “I'm receiving no complaints then.”
He laughs, sitting up as he cracks his neck. Looking down at his crotch and around the bed, he cringes a little. “Made a mess.”
“It's fine, I'm gonna clean that up. Go take a shower.” you point toward the door.
“You sure?” he asks, cocking his brow at his cum sticking to your skin. 
“Yeah,” you laugh, reaching for the wipes that are beside your bed. You clean yourself, ushering Jungkook to use your bathroom while you take care of this mess. 
Knowing there's no point in arguing, he still with an unsure look starts to get out of your bed. What he doesn't expect though is a slap delivered on his buttcheek. He turns around, shocked with mouth agape as he shoots you a look. 
“What does it feel like?” you tease, biting onto your lower lip as he shakes his head, fighting back a grin. Too bad, you catch a good glimpse of it. 
“You're lucky this is over.” he tells you, ruffling his raven hair. 
You're not sure if lucky is the right word to describe it, though it works for what he has in mind. And god, you're so close to calling this break off. Desperate and foolish. 
But since he talks about luck, it seems like it's on your side this time considering he turns around and leaves the room before you can make another rash decision. 
You decide to finish the movie after you're both cleaned, and so is your bedroom with fresh sheets. Everything goes back to normal, both of you acting as if you haven't had sex a few minutes ago. Ignoring the way every inch your skin feels like it's been electrified.
Jungkook's body takes most of the space in your bed eventually, the entire bedroom swallowed in darkness as chilly air fans your thin curtains. No scent of sex anymore just like there is no trace of your previous doings. The only proof lives in both of you now.
“Back to best friends?” Jungkook asks behind you, his arm outstretched just above your head.
“Back to best friends.” you confirm, ignoring the sentiment behind your tone.
“Don't tell anyone that I–”
“That I had you handcuffed and you whined?”
“Yah!”
Cackling, you look across your shoulder as if you could see him. “Are you ashamed of it?” you tease.
“Taehyung wouldn't let me live if he knew.”
You both laugh quietly. 
“Can you rub my back now?” you say after a while.
Jungkook snickers, sighing as he gets on his side facing your back. His hand is on your back, scratching and rubbing gently as you hum in pleasure.
“Shouldn't you be the one who's rubbing my back? Y'know because of what you've put me through tonight.” he grumbles, causing you to smile into your pillow.
“Didn't you enjoy it?”
“I couldn't touch you.” he says as if that answers everything. 
You still keep smiling, not being able to fight it back. “But other than that?”
He doesn't respond for a moment, leaving you to look behind you again. He hears the sheets rustling. “I came, didn't I?”
Somehow, that answers your question and you hum, lullying yourself to sleep – with the help of Jungkook's hands and touch of course. However, with a serious realization of what the fuck are you going to do now.
2K notes · View notes
cupid-styles · 4 months
Note
I feel like grumpy H gives off a snow day vibes
and you're 1000% right for that
word count: 1.7k
content warnings: smut (dirty talk, mentions of anal and squirting, slight size kink, degradation if you squint, riding)
grumpy h masterlist
main masterlist | talk to me
. . .
Y/N thinks this may actually be heaven on earth.
She's bundled up beneath an array of cozy blankets, burrowed into a plushy bed, and every time she wakes up, she feels her boyfriend's chest pressed against her back. His slow, even breathing is always enough of a lullaby to get her back to sleep in minutes, but especially when the world around them is entirely silent, too.
It's only then that she shuffles a bit, stretching out her ankles and straightening her back. Beside her, she hears Harry stir, pressing a light kiss to the side of her head.
"'s a snow day," he murmurs groggily into her ear. "Go back to sleep."
"Snow day?" Y/N echoes, her eyes peeling open immediately. Harry grunts, though she knows he's just being dramatic, as he always is, as she rises up to her knees, pressing them into the foamy bed. She sits up and leans her elbows against Harry's headboard and peers through his curtains to see that he's correct — their small college town has been inundated with inches of snow, granting them a rare, unplanned day off in the middle of the week.
Y/N loves snow days. Mainly because growing up, the only people who loved them more than her were her parents. She's always been a busy bee, aiming for near-perfect grades, volunteering, tutoring, and working, supplying her with limited free time in her schedule. Even from a young age, Y/N demanded to be in multiple activities to boost her college application.
(Y/N's parents were never sure where such anxieties stemmed from, considering all they wanted was for her to be happy, even if that meant backpacking through Europe for two years after graduating high school.)
So when it snowed hard enough to the point where everything was canceled, Y/N's mom always had activities on deck as a source of stress-relief for her. Hot chocolate, face masks, fuzzy blankets, and her favorite movies queued up. So, naturally, when Y/N's face glowed as she told Harry about these fond memories the second the campus buzzed with the potential of a snow day, he did the same thing.
His girl worked too hard. She was exhausted every night, sometimes even falling asleep on the phone during their evening conversations when she was too tired to come over. While she was at her last class of the day yesterday, Harry quickly ambled to the grocery store, picking up ingredients for her favorite soup, matching pairs of fuzzy socks, and hot chocolate mix. He told her that he would pick her up from her lecture and bring her straight to his place, just in case they ended up getting snowed in.
(Realistically, the thought of having a day off without Y/N by his side all day sounded painful. He'd never admit that this whole plan was as much for him as it was for her. When his housemates snooped through the grocery bag Harry brought home, teasing him about the matching socks, he sent them a deadly glare, muttering out something about them being lonely, annoying assholes.)
Harry's not sure how long he lets Y/N inspect the falling snow through his bedroom window, but he does know that when he glances at the alarm clock on her side, it glowed an angry 8:02 a.m.
"It's way too early to be awake on a day off, lovebug. Come lay back down with me."
She huffs in discontent like a disappointed child. "'s so pretty though."
"You know what's also pretty, though?"
A hum leaves her throat, only to be quickly cut off by Harry grabbing her by the waist and pulling her back down to the bed. She squeals, a giddy, shocked expression on her face as she reaches out to gently bat at his naked chest.
"Harry!" she yelps.
"What?"
He delicately molds her to the side of his body, lightly pushing her head down so it's on his chest. He keeps his arm wrapped firmly around her shoulders, giving them a small squeeze.
"I could've gotten hurt." she mutters stubbornly, her words slightly muffled. Harry chuckles.
"I'd never let that happen," he presses a kiss to her forehead. "Are you gonna go back to sleep now?"
She shrugs her shoulders. "I don't think I can, to be honest. The snow makes me excited."
Harry resists the urge to roll his eyes, "You're like a puppy, I swear to god."
“Meanie.” Y/N murmurs through a teasing smile. He raises his eyebrows, tilting his head to look down at the girl below him.
“I’ll be mean if you really want me to,” he nearly purrs, trailing feather light strokes over her hip, “But a meanie wouldn’t fill your cute ass with a plug and make you squirt.”
She gasps at his crude words and it makes him smirk. Ever the innocent girl, she always acted as if she wasn’t just as filthy as him.
He makes quick work to roll her over onto his front, almost manhandling her as he parts her thighs to straddle his waist. Her cheeks warm and he chuckles, folding his arms behind his head. “You’re being mean.” She grumbles, hips twitching over his brief-clad length.
“How so?”
“Because!” She whines, swallowing tightly, “You know what you’re doing and you’re not doing anything to help it.”
Harry's chest vibrates with a low snicker, shaking his head at his girl's stubbornness. His hand slips underneath her — his — tee-shirt, his cold fingers sending a shiver down her spine.
"Baby, you know I never wanna be mean to you," he says softly, "I'll help you get what you want, hm? Does that sound good?"
She nods quickly and it makes him smile. Using his free hand, he nudges her sleep shorts to the side, cooing when he feels the damp fabric.
"Needy," he murmurs. "Take me out, puppy."
Wordlessly, she sits up a bit, granting just enough room for her to dip beneath his briefs and pull his hard cock out. The tip is already flushed pink with pre-cum bubbling at the top. The sight is a small ego boost, letting her know that she's not the only one being affected by their current position.
"Do you need any prep?" he asks quietly, jaw clenching when she makes a few slick passes over his tip. Quickly, she shakes her head.
"No— can put it in, I can take it."
He smirks. "Yeah? Not too big for you?"
"Harry—"
He cuts her whining off by nudging his hips up to meet her core, silencing her pouting with a breathy whimper. Despite the tightness, she's slick enough between her legs that he's able to slip in with minimal resistance. (Besides, after recent experimentations with anal, Harry's realized that she likes small bites of pain.)
They both moan quietly when he bottoms out, his length pressing deep into her g-spot. Her eyes flutter closed as his hands find her hips, giving them a gentle squeeze.
"I know, 's deep, isn't it?" he purrs almost mockingly, "Need me to help you?"
"P-please."
With a grip on her hips, he begins to help her bounce on his cock. Instantly, a series of mewls fall from her lips and he presses a hand to her mouth, a teasing smirk curling at his mouth.
"Those noises are mine, sweetheart. Try to keep quiet."
She nods quickly as he starts to nudge his hips upwards to meet her thighs, his other hand maintaining a stiff grasp on her skin. He's doing his best to keep his own groans in as she bounces up and down, but her tight, wet pussy is almost too much for him to take. He shuts his eyes, knowing he's already far too close to coming from the sight of her in his shirt riding him.
"Lemme— fuck, lemme grind on you," Y/N mumbles. Harry nods, slightly relieved from the intensity of their previous position. He removes his hand from her hip and she almost instantly reaches to intertwine their fingers together, eyes rolling back as she rubs her pelvis against his. His cock is still impossibly deep, feeling as though it's deep in her tummy, but now her clit is being stimulated against his pelvic bone, too. Gradually, her muscles start to contract faster, and she feels her orgasm beginning to grow in the pit of her tummy.
"You look so pretty like this, fuck," Harry mutters, lifting his hand to bite his knuckles. "So obsessed with you, baby, you're so good. Gonna make me cum."
"'m gonna cum," she slurs, echoing his words. "Y-you're so deep— feel you so deep, oh—"
He bucks his hips up once, twice, three times to meet her grinds and that's all it takes to send her spiraling. Her head ducks back as she moans out his name, her pussy spasming around the girth of his cock. He tries his best to keep his eyes open so he can watch her, his own personal wet dream, but the sensation of her muscles squeezing him triggers his own orgasm. Quickly, he pulls out, reaching down to pump his slick-covered cock once to paint her mound with thick spurts of cum.
"Oh!" she breathes, her pussy still contracting as he uses his tip to smear his cum over her skin.
"S-sorry," he stutters, swallowing harshly, "Didn't wanna come inside."
She nods understandingly as she catches her breath. They hadn't had that conversation yet, so she appreciated him being respectful of that, even if she wasn't able to finish around his cock.
With a deep breath, he sits up slightly to press a light kiss to her lips. "You always look so fucking pretty when you ride me."
She blushes. "Shush, you."
"Budge up, I wanna get you cleaned up," Harry murmurs, helping her part her legs so she can roll over and lay back against the bed. He gets up and grabs a spare towel, sitting down on the edge of the mattress. "Also, I picked up stuff for that soup you love. And hot chocolate... and I thought maybe we could watch some of your favorite movies and stuff."
Y/N's eyebrows raise. "Really?"
As he wipes the mess from her skin, he nods wordlessly.
"That's what my parents used to do with me—"
"I know, baby. You told me," he pauses to swallow. "I wanted to do the same thing for you. Or at least something somewhat similar."
A toothy grin covers her face. "Have I ever told you how perfect you are?"
"Hm, I don't think so. You can do it now, though."
902 notes · View notes
futureman · 9 months
Text
switching the positions
pairing: joel miller x f!reader
summary: a collection of micro-fics chronicling the days of a very eventful week in the lives of you and joel miller (inspired by ariana grande's positions)
warnings: 18+ MDNI, pre-outbreak, established relationship, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, smut, unprotected piv, rough sex, oral (f&m receiving), 69ing, mutual/guided masturbation, edging, mild exhibitionism, consensual somnophilia, squirting, rimming, unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy kink, pregnant sex, panic attacks, mentions of parents, mentions of food
word count: 16.2k
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moodboard by my sweet girl @cavillscurls ♡
a/n: whew, my pride and joy, a whole two months in the making. tysm to everyone who voted on the poll, and especially to @dinsdjrn for helping me tie this whole thing together and mya for listening to me yell about this for weeks. as always, thoughts and feedback are always appreciated!
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SUNDAY
"Boy, I'm tryna meet your mama on a Sunday."
“She’s gonna hate me.”
“She’s not gonna hate you.”
Oh, you know this woman is going to hate you. It’s not that parents don’t like you. On the contrary, you actually get along great with people’s parents. Your friends’, your old roommate’s, your coworkers'—hell, even your own. It’s just that moms, specifically, can smell fear, and Joel’s mom is going to smell the terror wafting off of you from a mile away. 
Not that it’s personal or anything. You’re pretty sure she’d hate anyone dating her baby boy. It’s like, a boy-mom thing. Still doesn’t make you feel any better about your boyfriend’s mom potentially hating you.
“Whose idea was this dinner again?” Because if it was Joel’s, then he can still reschedule or fake an illness or, better yet, call the whole thing off.
“Baby, you know it was hers,” he replies from his spot at the edge of the bed, where he’s been watching you pace the room and throw half the closet on the floor for the past hour. You shoot him an exasperated look.
“But did you have to say yes? Isn’t it kind of early for me to be meeting your mom anyway?” 
He looks at you like you have ten heads, but you ignore him, debating two shirts in the mirror, then deciding they’re both terrible and adding them to the pile on the floor.
“It’s been a year and a half. If we wait any longer, she’ll be meetin’ you at the weddin’,” he sighs, running his hands frustratedly down his face. You pause your closet tornado to stare at him, wide-eyed, and he rolls his eyes. “I’m just sayin’, I think it’d be good for y’all to meet, is all.”
Good for who? Certainly not you. Honestly, this dinner could have serious repercussions for your relationship. It’s entirely possible she could convince him to break up with you after the night’s over. Or that you’re a bad role model and shouldn’t be allowed around Sarah anymore. Your stomach lurches violently at the thought. Then, it hits you—
“Okay, yeah, that’s fair enough—but have we thought about who’s gonna watch Sarah tonight? We can’t just leave her by herself, and I’m sure your mom would totally understand that,” you try to reason but, again, Joel’s not going for it. 
“She’s 14 years old, I think she can handle a couple hours alone,” he deadpans. “Baby, c’mon, it’s not gonna be that bad. Please? Is it really too much to ask for the woman I love to meet my momma?” 
You soften at that. Logically, you know he’s right and it’s not fair for you to keep giving him such a hard time. You’re also pre-judging someone really special to him, and now you feel like the shittiest girlfriend in the world.
“You’re right. I know you’re right—I’m sorry,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around yourself. You’re not sure why you’re feeling so insecure about all this. “I just want her to like me, you know?”
He nods, lips quirking into a small smile, and pats his lap. You fall into his arms and he rocks you for a moment, kissing your hair, then your cheek. The anxiety’s starting to subside and you’re grateful for him, your sweet boyfriend who never asks you for anything. Your eyes meet his, and he leans in to kiss you softly, deeply, then pulls away just enough to rest his forehead against yours.
“I know ya do,” he murmurs, rubbing soothing circles into your thigh. “And she will, alright? Just give her a chance like she’s givin’ you one.” 
So, for Joel, you do. Turns out his mom is lovely and wonderful, just like her son, and now you have a lot to make up for.
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MONDAY
"Then make a lotta love on a Monday."
It’s early and yet, somehow, you’re already awake and feeling like it’s going to be a good day. There’s no alarm clocks blaring, no feet stomping up and down the stairs. Just sweet, blissful sunlight, and it feels so good this morning. Warm and wet and, god, right there—please, keep going right there.
You reach out to feel its light against your hands and between your fingers, and it hums, sending sweet vibrations up your arms, all the way down to your thighs. Heat starts to bloom in your belly as the sun rises higher, burning hotter and hotter, and your fingers tense, tugging at its soft rays. 
Everything feels so much wetter now, and there’s no way you’re not sweating right through your shirt and into the sheets. Even your underwear is soaked, your cunt pleasurably slick and dripping as you pant softly into your pillow.
Then, all of it suddenly intensifies and you’re enveloped by a wet, dextrous warmth that circles and circles, dipping into you, fucking into you, and suddenly, you’re so, so close—
And then you’re cumming with a loud sob, hips bucking with every spasm until something broad and strong splays across your stomach and pushes you back down into the sheets. 
It's…you realize it’s Joel. Balmy and beautiful like the morning sun. He groans as you gush into his mouth, lapping up everything you give him, and you’re vaguely aware of the bed shifting under you as he grinds his hips into the mattress for relief. 
“…B-baby? What—what’s going on…,” you slur sleepily, hands tugging harder at his hair as he continues to suckle your clit through the aftershocks. You whine at the oversensitivity, and he pulls off to press one last kiss to your heat before throwing the sheets off behind his head.
His eyes meet yours and, fuck, he looks wrecked. His hair is in complete disarray and his eyes are a little wild…and then there’s the giant tent in his boxers and that delicious wet spot that makes your mouth water. He doesn’t respond—just crawls up your body to crash his lips against yours, licking into your mouth, and all you can taste is yourself when his tongue brushes against yours.
You moan into his mouth as he grinds into your sensitive core, then parts from your lips just long enough to pull your sweat-soaked shirt up and over your head. The cool morning air feels like heaven against your feverish skin and, with the sheets gone, you can feel a cool breeze coming through the open window, amplified by the oscillating fan next to the bed.
Christ, he must be so pent up by now. Your brain is finally starting to clear from its post-sleep fog, and now you’re wondering how long he’s been between your legs, eating you out like you’re the heartiest breakfast he’s ever had in his life. 
But that train of thought is quickly derailed when his lips find a new home around your nipple, sucking it into his mouth and circling his tongue around the nub until it hardens. The delicate skin feels especially tender, and you whimper quietly as the roughness of his beard scrapes against you. Your fingers thread back into his hair and you tug, urging him back up so you can feel his mouth on yours again. 
“Joel, fuck me,” you murmur against his lips, and his breath hitches. “Wanna feel you—please.” 
The sensitivity must’ve already subsided because your hips are steadily meeting his and you’re feeling so desperate to have him inside you. His cock feels heavy as he rubs himself against your slick cunt and, while the fabric provides the most incredible friction when it grazes your clit, you want him bare immediately. 
“Now…ngh—now,” you whine, and you’re stunned he still has the patience to tease when he pulls away slightly to smirk down at you.
“Needy girl this morning, ain’t ya?” His voice is thick with sleep and so much desire, and it makes your still locked-down pussy clench painfully. “S’alright, baby, ‘m gonna give it to ya.”
Wrenching his boxers down, he grips under your legs to push both of your knees to your chest before nudging the blunt head of his cock against your entrance. He inches in just the tip and immediately lets out a whoosh of air.
“So fuckin’ tight, Jesus Christ,” he grits through his teeth, working himself in and out of you until he’s buried to the hilt, the coarse hair at the base of his cock brushing against you just right. He lingers for a brief moment, grinding into you deeply, languidly while you adjust to his girth.
"S'good. Feels good," you murmur, sighing contently. He's brushing that spot he can only reach when he fucks you like this, so you lock your ankles behind his back, silently telling him to stay. But it feels a little selfish, and you can feel how much he's holding back.
"Baby...I gotta move," he pants, trembling with the effort it's taking not to lengthen his thrusts. Pulling out slowly, he presses back into you deep enough to nudge that spot again, and your vision goes hazy. "Promise, I'll take care of ya—"
You moan in unison as you flutter around him, and he takes that as the go-ahead to continue, his cock reappearing wetter and shinier after every stroke. His skin is glistening, too, slick with sweat that runs down his temples and pools where your bodies connect. 
The heat of him is addictive and it's everywhere—blooming in your chest, blazing between your legs, and igniting something fathomless inside you. But somehow, it's still not hot enough. You know he can give you more, your blindingly beautiful sun.
Wrapping your arms loosely around his shoulders, you squeeze your thighs into his sides to pull him flush against your body, and you can feel his heartbeat pounding through his chest. The steady rhythm matches his thrusts perfectly, but he's groaning so sweetly in your ear that you have a feeling it won't for long.
You belatedly realize how hard you're clenching around him, suddenly so close to tumbling over the edge for the second time this morning, and he redoubles his efforts to follow you.
"L-like that, keep going just like that," you encourage between sharp exhales. "That—that's it."
He braces a hand next to your head on the pillow to stabilize himself, and you wrap your fingers around his wrist, grounding yourself to him. His eyes meet yours fondly before he buries his face into the crook of your neck to do the same, panting heavily against your skin.
Soft, brown curls tickle your cheek, and you turn your head to nose into his hair, breathing him in. He smells earthy like freshly-mown grass and sawdust, and it fills your lungs, surrounding you just when you need it the most. 
You gasp in his air, hips swiveling into his desperately as you chase your release. He's slamming directly into that spot now, pushing your knees back into your chest to reach even deeper, but his thighs are starting to tense.
"'m not gonna last long," he admits breathily, all but folding you in half so he can brush his lips against yours. "S'too good...gonna make me cum so hard."
"Please...please, please." Fuck, you want to feel it. To feel him pulsing inside you, filling you up so good, so much. "Joel, cum—please cum."
So close, you're so close. Your soft sighs have evolved into something louder and higher-pitched. Too loud for this early in the morning, and enough to wake up the entire house if you're not careful.
Joel seals his mouth over yours, swallowing every noise that escapes your lips as he pounds into you with purpose, dragging against your walls, and it's...fuck, you're—
Gushing, sobbing as you cum, and he groans, long and drawn out, immediately following you over the edge. Releasing your legs, he digs his fingers into your hips to hold you in place, keeping his cock buried deep inside you as you milk him dry.
"Fuck me," he exhales shakily, pumping into you twice before pulling out and collapsing on top of you. "Good fuckin' morning."
A breathy laugh bubbles out of your chest, but you immediately cringe at the feeling of his cum leaking out of you and onto the sheets. You wedge a hand between your bodies, reaching down to swipe your thumb between your folds and procure a glob that you suck wetly into your mouth. 
"Very good fuckin' morning," you smile cheekily at the look of awe on his face. He shakes his head, chuckling as he wraps you up in his arms and rolls you over onto your sides. His chest expands into you with a massive yawn, and you're helpless but to mirror him.
"How much time we got until the alarm?" he mutters sleepily, sounding like he could pass out at any moment. You're craning your head back to check when—
The damn thing starts blaring before you can even catch a glimpse of the time. Not that you need to now—it's 6 a.m., your mortal enemy. You glare at the clock like it personally offended you, and Joel only chuckles, pulling you back down with him.
"Snooze it," he murmurs, mouthing damply at your neck, his hands exploring your soft, bare skin. "We still got time."
You barely hear him, already lost in the feeling of his fingers skimming up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts. He leans over you to hit the button himself before returning to you, kissing you like you've both got all the time in the world.
Neither of you makes it to work on time.
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TUESDAY
"Cookin' in the kitchen, and I'm in the bedroom."
The oven is broken. Probably. The stove, too. It’s really not your fault—all you did was turn some knobs and stand there, but for some reason, none of the burners are catching and the oven sure isn’t cooking this chicken like it’s supposed to.
You don't even like chicken but, for some ungodly reason, you've had a wicked craving for it lately. And Joel loves it, so. That explains why you’re in the kitchen, getting side-eyed by a very skeptical 14 year old, trying to cook a nice dinner for her very overworked father. It’s not going well.
“Did you hear it click when you tried turning it on?” Sarah asks patiently, and now it’s your turn to look skeptical.
“Uhh, the knob or the stove?” You eye the appliance dubiously like it’s doing whatever it’s doing on purpose. She laughs pointing to one of the burners.
“So, when you twist the knob, gas comes out of here,” she taps the grating around the burner, “and the clicking creates a spark that ignites the gas so it lights. Then, voila, you’ve got a working stove.”
“Oh,” you reply dumbly, looking back and forth between her and the stove until she finally gets the hint.
“Fine, fine. I can do it,” she rolls her eyes good-naturedly. And of course, the stupid thing works with zero issues when she does it. You give her a grateful smile before throwing the dirtiest glare you can muster at the oven.
“What do we do about that one? I guess I could try cooking the whole chicken in a big pan, but I can’t guarantee we won’t all die from food poisoning…,” you trail off, starting to feel a little useless. 
It’s not like you’re completely inept in the kitchen. You can use a toaster or a microwave like a damn pro, and even the blender if you’re feeling especially adventurous, but you’ve never made a big meal like this before. Sarah likes to cook when you’re not ordering out, which admittedly is most of the time, so this was supposed to be something special for her, too. 
“It’s the same general concept,” she says, still kind and patient as ever, squatting down to show you a different set of knobs. You observe her for a moment, missing the start of her explanation, because it’s times like these where you can see so much of Joel in her. 
It’s that spark in her eyes when she gets to share bits of her well-earned knowledge. To use her expertise to teach someone something brand new. Joel gets the same look when he’s trying to teach you guitar. His eyes shine when you finally get a chord down, and he downright beams when you can finish an entire bar by yourself. 
You must’ve zoned out for too long because she’s suddenly waving a hand in front of your face, smiling her dad’s sweet smile as she waits for your focus to return to the task at hand. 
“Shit, I’m sorry. What did I miss?” you ask sheepishly. She nods to the oven, already lit and heating up to the required 400 degrees Fahrenheit for cooking baked chicken.
“All good! It’s set for whenever you’ve got the food prepped. You just have to wait for it to hit temperature—it’ll beep when it’s ready,” she says, walking around the kitchen island to grab her backpack. 
…Wait. She’s leaving?
“Woah, wait, where are you going? You can’t leave yet,” you plead, still desperate for her help. “What if I burn the house down?”
“You’re not gonna burn down the house,” she snorts, already at the door tugging on her sneakers. “Just remember to turn off the burners and you’ll be fine. And save me some food!… Unless everyone gets sick, then maybe don’t.”
You shoot her a look of absolute betrayal, and she laughs, opening the front door and waving over her shoulder. 
“See ya later! Good luck, I believe in you!” 
And then she’s gone, and you’re left alone with your misery and a bunch of random ingredients you still have to magically make into a meal.
You slump against the counter, lamenting the loss of your sous chef until the oven beeps, scaring the shit out of you. Oh, great. You’ve barely even started seasoning the chicken. It can’t be that hard, right?
Twenty minutes later, you’re standing in front of a very peppery-looking raw chicken—which is officially disgusting again, you changed your mind—wishing you had just ordered Boston Market and lied about making it yourself. Lesson learned for next time. Like there’ll be a next time.
Well, at least no one can say you didn’t try. You throw a bunch of mixed vegetables into the bottom of the pan like the recipe says and pop it in the oven, setting the timer for 40 minutes and hoping for the best. 
Glancing at the clock above the sink, you realize you’re cutting it close on time. You told Joel to be home by eight, which means he’ll probably actually get here at nine, and it’s already 7:30. Yikes. Time flies when you’re trying not to fuck up a dinner that was doomed from the start.
The last piece of the puzzle is thankfully the easiest. Now, mashed potatoes are definitely something you can make. Boiling water? Piece of cake. Pouring in the instant flakes from the box and adding butter? Done and done.
There’s no way anyone’ll be able to tell you didn’t make them from scratch unless they check the trash and, anyways, the instant stuff is better. You’ll go down with that ship. 
Now for the pièce de résistance: the perfect evening attire. A cute, 50s-era apron you thrifted two weeks ago that’ll go over the teeny, tiny Victoria’s Secret lingerie set you’ve been hiding in the back of the closet.
Joel will probably think it’s hilarious, once he stops drooling. Hopefully you’ll even make it to dinner, otherwise, the stress of this entire afternoon was a totally moot point. But he’ll have to be a good boy and finish his food before he can have dessert—apple pie you definitely didn’t make, and you laid out on his bed like the best fucking treat he’ll ever taste.
You end up with enough time to take the chicken and veggies out of the oven—the meat thermometer tells you it’s cooked through and that’s good enough for you—and stir up the mashed potatoes before you have to head upstairs to get everything else ready. So far, surprisingly, so good. 
You’re in the middle of patting yourself on the back for a job well-done, with time to spare, when you hear the front door open. At eight fucking thirty. This would be the one day Joel gets home early and, by the sounds of dishware and cutlery clinking around downstairs, he’s already discovered your big surprise. 
“Baby, you up there?” he calls up the stairs. “What’s all this?”
Well. Guess it’s showtime. You finish tying the apron around your waist before giving yourself one last once over in the mirror. Everything fits perfectly, just like you knew it would, and the food’s done, for better or worse. So there’s no need to be nervous, right? It’s just Joel. Your Joel. He’d love it no matter what, even if it all ends up being total shit. 
Taking a steadying breath, you head down the stairs, letting your appearance serve as his answer. The apron rubs scratchily against your skin, a reminder of how naked you actually are underneath, and you let your confidence in Joel’s inevitably wanton reaction make you brave.
And he doesn’t disappoint. His eyes rove over you greedily, from the pout of your lips to the tiniest slip of your nipple peeking over your bra, all the way down to the soft, bare skin of your legs. Yeah, no need to be nervous at all.
“Just a little surprise I cooked up,” you smirk a little deviously as you reach the bottom of the stairs. He’s on you in a second, hands exploring your body eagerly, impatiently, as he leans in to kiss you, but he’s halted by a finger to his lips. “Uh-uh. Can’t have dessert yet. There’s a whole meal waiting for you—I made your favorite.”
He chuckles, gingerly pressing a kiss to your finger instead before leading you backward into the kitchen. 
“Well, let’s get started then. I’m starvin’,” he says, looking hungrier than you’ve ever seen him. You return his gaze, suddenly feeling ravenous yourself.
“Good. It’s dinner time.”
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WEDNESDAY
"Wrist icicle, ride dick bicycle."
Spin class sucks.
There’s really no need for the music to be this loud. And it’s bad. They say it’s supposed to amp you up for rigorous exercise, but it’s just giving you a headache.
It’s also about a thousand degrees in here, and you’d be leaving a massive pool of sweat on this seat if you were even allowed to sit on it. The whole concept of spinning makes no sense, and you’re starting to think it’s actually just a dance class on stationary bikes because no one in their right mind would ever ride a bicycle like this. 
It’s embarrassing, for starters, and you’re surrounded by hot people that are way better at it than you are. You didn’t even know you could gyrate on a fucking bike until today, and they all somehow make it look sexy. Like they’re legitimately having a great time. Having fun. 
But not you. The music might honestly be doing you a favor by drowning out your pathetic attempts to breathe. You’re starting to get a little lightheaded and feel like you’re about to be sick.
No workout is worth this. You can’t even pretend to follow the instructor’s directions, because you can barely hear her over the speakers. She probably can't even hear herself, yelling into the void of shitty EDM remixes, and expecting everyone to pick it up. If you’d known this was just some fucked up version of leg day, you would’ve skipped it. 
There's no sneaking out early, either. You took the bus and Joel won’t be here to pick you up for at least another half hour. Honestly, you'd rather walk home and let that be your exercise for the day, but unless you plan on jogging along the highway, you're shit out of luck.
The beat abruptly picks back up, startling you out of your personal pity party, and then everyone's asses are in the air again, hips swiveling so perfectly in sync that it has to be choreographed. You're getting the hang of it now that you're realizing the routine just repeats itself, but it still feels mildly exploitative. 
It doesn't help that your class is starting to draw in a crowd, likely attracted by all of the revealing athletic wear on display. At least you got that memo. Whoever had the bright idea to put a huge glass wall at the back of the room was either a genius or a pervert. Probably both, depending on who you ask.
Once the hardest section of the choreography passes, you look behind you to check the time, praying more than you think has passed, but you're sorely disappointed. And the crowd outside's only gotten bigger.
Don't these assholes have anything better to do than stand there drooling over a spin class? You continue to glare at them over your shoulder through the next part of the song, looking a little ridiculous grinding into your seat as you silently tell them all off.
Out of the corner of your eye, you catch one of them off to the side laughing, but when you turn to send an even harsher look in their direction, you realize you recognize him. 
What a dick. If you'd known he was going to be this early, you definitely would've snuck out and waited outside instead of becoming another piece of eye candy for a bunch of gym rats. 
Joel looks a little too pleased with himself, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he’s enjoying the view as much as the rest of those creeps. Well, if he wants a show, then you’ll give him one. Now that you’ve gotten the movements down, you can put all of your energy into making him wish there wasn’t an entire glass wall separating him from you. 
That one, grueling section of the song loops back around, and this time you put your all into it, arching like you’re supposed to, swiveling your hips into the seat with all of the muscle control you’ve got. Your shorts ride up your ass at the change in movement, probably giving you a wicked camel toe, but you let them. You can only imagine the look on Joel’s face now.
The song starts to wind down, finally coming to a stop, and you lower yourself back onto the seat, panting with the exertion of the past 45 minutes. Turning back around, you notice the crowd has mostly dispersed, save for a few stragglers and Joel, who’s panting almost as hard as you are. 
Your eyes drop to his pants, and you quirk an eyebrow. His breathing’s not the only thing that’s hard. He looks a little wrecked and, suddenly, this whole workout thing feels like it might’ve been worth it after all. 
You hop off the bike and retrieve your duffel from the back of the room, teasingly flicking the glass in front of his face before exiting with the rest of the class.
"Ready to go?" you ask brightly, still feeling high off the endorphin rush. He doesn't respond, looking a little dazed as he watches a droplet of sweat run down your neck, past your collarbone, and right between your breasts. "You doing alright there, bud?"
You laugh, enjoying your revenge a little too much, reveling in the way his jaw tenses and the muscles in his neck twitch angrily. It’s about to be a very interesting ride home—or it would’ve been if you’d made it that far. 
On the way out, you pass an out-of-order men’s room, and he yanks you inside, locking the door behind you.
It's a little surprising he's this pent up after the night you had, especially with the sheer amount of sex you’ve been having lately—not that you're complaining. But what's even more surprising is that he's choosing right now to rectify it, basically in public where anyone could overhear or walk in on you. It's...really out of character for him. You thought he'd at least make it to the car.
“Joel, what the—,” you yelp as he lifts you up by the waist to settle you on the edge of a sink. It's clear his patience has completely run out because, within seconds, he's dropping to his knees, burying his face in your heat. "—fuck."
Your legs immediately try to close around his head, but he forces them back open with enough strength to overextend your already abused hamstrings. It shouldn't feel as good as it does, but the pain, combined with his blunt nails biting into your thighs, sends delicious jolts right to your core. 
You exhale shakily, burying your fingers in his hair as he sucks a damp patch into your shorts, just slightly lower than where you need him. Your hips buck, urging him higher, but he doesn't allow that either, shoving them back down onto the hard porcelain beneath you.
Should've known it wouldn't be that easy. He's handling you aggressively, rougher than you would've expected, and that's when you realize he's mad.
"Bet ya thought that was real funny, teasin' me like that," he growls into your clothed pussy, licking up the seam to swirl wet circles where your clit throbs under too many layers. "Don't feel very nice, does it?"
His eyes meet yours as he sucks a little harder, and you whimper, tugging at his hair in a silent plea for him to take your shorts off and eat you out the way you both want him to. But he's going to drag this out and you know it. 
Joel loves a little payback and has the patience of a saint unless he's pushed past his limit. To your detriment, you shoved him over that line with the stunt you pulled earlier, so now you'll have to convince him it's in his best interest to let it go.
Switching tactics, you tempt him with what he could have if he just gave in. Your fingers dip beneath your waistband, and you sigh as you slick them up against your folds before dipping them inside. You're already soaked, and so tight, even around two of your own fingers, and you tell him as much.
"No, it doesn't feel nice...but I know something that will," you pump your fingers in and out of yourself, the muted sound of wet squelching reaching your ears. "Hear that?—," you gasp, hips lifting off the sink as you accidentally graze something spongey and sensitive, "—t-that's all for you."
And it works like a charm. Your shorts and underwear are pulled off in a single, hard tug, his tongue fucking into you before you can even fully inhale, and you choke out a strangled moan instead. He eats you out like a man starved, his nose nudging your clit with every dip of his tongue, and it feels so potent, you practically see stars. 
Your combined slick and his saliva are starting to leak over the edge of the sink but he catches every drop, and the way he slurps you up makes your cheeks burn. Joel's a lot of things when he's between your legs—enthusiastic, generous, and a little sloppy, but he's never wasteful. 
Two thick fingers prod at your entrance, and then he's pressing them into you, the slide snug, but easy with how wet you are for him. Finally, finally, you can feel your orgasm building, and you're sent reeling when his tongue fucks into you between his fingers, filling you up—it's...yes, right there—
But he abruptly pulls his mouth away, still not done making you pay.
"Damn right, it's all for me. Ya think those jackasses watching you weren't thinkin' about this?" he growls, his fingers slowing to leisurely stroke your walls as if they weren't about to throw you over the edge a moment ago. "Think they could make you feel this good? Make you cum like I do?"
Your pussy flutters pathetically around him, and the false look of sympathy he gives you makes you want to cry out of sheer frustration.
"Gonna need an answer if you want me to keep goin'," he drawls, still close enough that you can feel his breath, hot against your cunt.
You bite down on your bottom lip, just hard enough to momentarily distract yourself from the aching between your legs so you can respond, but you're taking too long. His fingers have all but stopped, so you panic.
"Fuck those assholes. Fuck all of them," you grit through your teeth. He quirks an eyebrow, marginally picking up the pace of his fingers.
"Fuck 'em, huh? That what you wanna do?" He's teasing you, and even though it's obvious, you fall right into his trap, anyway. Blanching, you shake your head furiously.
"N-no—no, no, no. Just you, only wanna fuck you," you gasp, frantically trying to convince him of something you both already know to be true without a shadow of a doubt. It's honestly impressive that he can work you like this and, even more so, that he's the only one that can.
"S'okay, I know...I know. This right here—," he gives your clit a few kitten licks, the pads of his fingertips rubbing that perfect spot inside you, "—s'mine." 
Then, he's burying his face back between your legs, redoubling his efforts, and it's so fucking sloppy. Wet and hot, and hungry, as if edging you has the same effect on him. 
You feel him groan into you as you start to tighten around his fingers, loud enough that his chest rumbles with it, sending sweet vibrations up your thighs. The sound of his belt jingling, then hitting the floor vaguely makes it past the blood rushing in your ears, but his broad shoulders and head bobbing between your legs are blocking your view.
All you can see or hear is the frantic movement of his arm, his hand working up and down his cock, and the sound of skin slapping on skin. Fuck, that's—so hot, you're so close. So fucking close—
But he's got one last edge left in him. 
You're throbbing so violently that for a second you're terrified he ruined your orgasm, but no, you're still teetering on the cusp, thighs quaking so hard, you can’t believe you haven’t crushed his head between them already. At this point, the smallest touch, even the tiniest puff of air would send you hurtling over.
He's still jerking himself off, sounding delirious as he separates his mouth from you to speak.
"Need to hear ya s-say it...," he pants, and you cry out, angrily reaching down to roughly shove his face back into you, but he resists. Spurred on by your reaction, he only fucks into his fist faster. “Nobody else gets to taste ya like I do…do they? Say it. Say it and I'll…ngh—let you cum,” he moans lowly, possessively. 
Joel sounds completely gone. You never could've imagined dry humping a fucking stationary bike would set him off like this, or that a bunch of dumb muscleheads would make him this jealous. He's so lost in it, in you. 
But the way he's looking up at you right now—it's like he really does need you to do this for him. To tell him that it’s just him, and it’ll only ever be him. It’s the truth. No one else has ever made you feel the way he does, with his mouth and hands, or his heart, and they never will again.
You whine, shaking your head pleadingly, ready to tell him whatever he wants to hear. Anything for him to put his mouth back on you again.
"T-they don't—no one else gets to, but you...only you," you keen as he seals his lips around your clit, all of his fears and insecurities finally soothed. Your head tips back, the feeling of his hot tongue laving over the sensitive bundle of nerves and his thick fingers—three of them, now—dragging against your walls exactly what you need. 
You cum frighteningly quickly, your orgasm so powerful and overwhelming that you start to black out. Your eyes squeeze shut, and then it’s all just pleasure—the tension in all of your limbs slowly bleeds out with every spasm of your cunt, and something wet…so wet, splashes against your inner thighs. 
Joel groans louder than you think you’ve ever heard him, the sound practically punched out of his chest as he licks broader lines up your pussy, sucking and slurping, and what…what is that? Why the fuck are you so wet? He—did Joel cum on you, and you didn’t even notice?
But that’s impossible because now his body’s completely seizing up, the hand around his cock stilling as he spurts thick ropes of cum across the bathroom floor. Or at least that’s the image your brain conjures up, unable to see it for yourself. 
Your vision’s only just beginning to return to you, and you immediately look down to see what actually happened...and fuck. It was you. Joel’s head is resting on your thigh, nuzzling into your soft, very damp skin, and he's looking up at you in awe.
“Shit, baby…,” he pants, chest heaving, cock still twitching in his hand. "Ain't ever seen you do that before."
You blink blearily, lips parting as you take him in. He's a goddamn mess. His face and beard are soaked, and his shirt is splattered with what you can only assume is your release. You fucking squirted? In a dirty gym bathroom?
"What the fuck?" you mumble, still dazed and a little in disbelief at how your first, and probably last, trip to the gym went. You shake your head, clearing up the brain fog enough to quickly process the past two hours, and now you're in shock. "Joel, what the fuck?" you ask again incredulously.
He has the nerve to look sheepish where he's still happily nestled between your legs post-orgasm, and you bop the top of his head with your palm, eyeing him expectantly.
"Wanna explain what all of that was?"
"Look—," he starts, lips quirking down into that little frown you know so well. "If you'd've heard the shit those fuckers were sayin' about ya. Probably would've said worse if I hadn't told 'em to fuck off before they got into some real trouble."
"Wait, you were the reason they all took off? Joel," you laugh because suddenly it all makes sense. 
You just learned the hard way that a grumpy, jealous Joel means getting edged until you black out. Pretty good knowledge to have for future reference, to be honest. Now that you're not sobbing with his head between your legs, it all seems so silly.
"What, did ya expect me to just stand there and let 'em talk about fuckin' my girl right in front of me?"
"I mean, no, but...I dunno, maybe just take the compliment next time and don't threaten a group of scary, muscular men," you chuckle fondly, cupping his wet cheeks in your hands. "Okay? It basically just means you have a hot girlfriend. Congratulations!" 
But he only grumbles in response, still pouting like a child. You bend down to press a soft kiss to his forehead, and he sighs, some of the tension bleeding out of his shoulders.
"What if, when we get home, I show you some of the techniques I learned in my class?" you murmur into his hair. He tilts his head back, eyeing you skeptically.
"Baby, we don't have a stationary bike," he says, brows furrowed in confusion. You suck your bottom lip into your mouth, eyes dropping to his lap.
"That's okay. We won't need one."
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THURSDAY
"You can't imagine what I'm 'bout to say. You really wanna know? You'll have to wait. (It's a surprise, surprise.)"
Blue, blue, blue. Just do it, just be blue! It's a great color—the best color, maybe even your favorite color.
You keep chanting at it, loudly and in your head, but the plastic stick doesn't seem to appreciate your encouragement. It just stares back at you, blank and unhelpful.
How much longer do the instructions say you have to wait? One to three minutes, that's it? It feels like it's already been two hours, but it's actually only been...30 seconds. What the fuck.
Maybe if you shake it, it'll develop faster. It's basically like a polaroid, right? And Outkast has never steered you wrong, so. You lean over from where you're still sitting on the toilet, pants around your ankles, to test your theory but it's too late.
It already has an answer for you. ...Wait, what? Both of the lines are blue. So...does that mean you're extra not pregnant? You snatch up the pamphlet again, actually reading through the directions this time, and your stomach drops. Pink was never even an option. 
Two blue lines. Pregnant.
You knew this week was going a little too well. 
Those random bouts of nausea, the weird cravings, the fucking breast tenderness. They didn't need to mean anything. They shouldn't have meant anything.
Fuck. Fuck. What are you supposed to do now? You're way too young to have a baby. Well. Okay, that's a massive lie, but still, you're definitely not ready to have one. Or to be…pregnant. You shudder at the thought. 
Swollen ankles, morning sickness, mood swings. You’re already a walking rollercoaster of emotions, and your back hurts from just existing. No, you can’t do this. 
It's not about the finances, either. You and Joel both have steady jobs and could make it work if you wanted to, but do you want to? Will he? He’s not your husband, not even your fiancée, so there’s no reason for him to stick around. It’s not his burden.
There's just too many unanswered questions. And Joel's already someone's dad. He did the whole baby thing by himself and got it right the first around.
Sarah's perfect—fuck, what is Sarah going to think? Stupid, this was so stupid. You thought you were being so careful. Sure, Joel cums inside you basically every time you have sex, but that's totally beside the point. 
You take those dumb little pills at the same time every day, just like you're supposed to. Except…when’s the last time you had a period? Did you even get it last month? The month before? 
Shit, that wedding—when was that wedding? Your coworker’s, the rich one who decided to have a fucking destination wedding in Hawaii a couple months ago. It was decadent. You and Joel were super drunk the entire time and fucked like rabbits for three days straight. 
Fuck.
Don't cry. Do not cry. Joel will probably be back from picking Sarah up from soccer practice any minute, so you need to hold it together. Maybe you just won’t tell them, at least not until you’ve had more time to process everything and decide what you’re going to do.
But, god, you wear your emotions on your sleeve, and even more so on your face. They’ll know something’s off the second they look at you, and you won’t be able to talk yourself out of it. You’ve always been a shit liar. 
Tears start to fall without your permission. You slump slowly to the floor, pants still around your ankles, and curl up into a ball, willing it all to go away—the tiny clump of cells growing inside your belly and the regret of being so careless, of letting yourself get caught up in a serious relationship in the first place. This isn’t something you can just wish away. It’s life-changing and nothing will ever be the same again. Was it really worth it?
No, no. Of course, it was. Snap out of it.
If only it were that easy. Sobs wrack your entire body, and you can barely hear yourself choking on them, unable to hold them in anymore. Your eyes squeeze shut as you desperately try to block out your reality, but it seeps up your nose and into your mouth, salty and unignorable. 
Blood rushes in your ears and you realize belatedly that you’re starting to hyperventilate, but you can’t stop. You’re drawing in too much air all at once and it’s making your vision go fuzzy. It’s all just too much. Anger, sadness, and fear consume you until you’re screaming with it, desperate to expel it from your body any way you can.
So, you don’t hear the front door opening or Joel and Sarah running up the stairs, completely panic-stricken. 
Joel reaches the ensuite bathroom first and all but breaks down the door, but he’s met with the sight of your half-naked body in a heap on the floor. Immediately, he turns to block Sarah from getting in.
“Hey, hey—no,” he says firmly, wrapping her up in his arms to keep her from seeing past him. “You’re not goin’ in there. Ya gotta give us some time, alright?”
She looks up at him, scared and visibly shaken. 
“What if—do you think she’s okay in there? Was she hurt…d-did you see her?” she asks softly, eyes wet. “Can I see her?”
“Not right now, kiddo,” he mumbles, kicking the bathroom door shut behind him before leading her out of his room and into the hallway. “‘m sorry.”
The crestfallen look on Sarah’s face is the last thing he sees before he closes the door on her. But he has to ignore how badly it feels to keep her away from you, at least until he can figure out what the hell is wrong and how he’s going to fix it.
Your cries have quieted since earlier, but not nearly enough to ease Joel's fears. He can still hear you through the door, hiccuping softly, and opens it gently this time, entering slowly as if he's trying not to spook a scared animal.
It doesn't work as well as he'd hoped. Your head shoots up, a small gasp escaping your lips as you dizzily pull your pants back up.  
"Easy there, s'okay. Baby, s'just me, don't worry," he murmurs, dropping to his knees on the floor next to you, but you flinch away. You can only imagine the hurt in his eyes, and the mental image tugs at your heart. "I need ya to tell me what happened. Did ya hurt yourself?"
Yeah, you could say that.
You shake your head, the only thing you're capable of doing in the state you're in. Trying to speak would be useless after all the screaming you just did and you can't bear to look him in the eye.
"Hey, talk to me. If somethin's the matter, I need to know, 'specially if we gotta get you to the hospital," he says, reaching out to touch you. 
His hand grazes your shoulder, and your body jerks so viscerally that you slam your knees into the bottom of the sink. You let out a tiny whimper of pain right as you hear something small and plastic hit the ground next to you. 
Oh, no. Shit. You desperately try to kick the test out of reach, to cover it with your body—anything to keep him from seeing it—but his fingers wrap around it before you get the chance. He sucks in a harsh breath through his teeth and you feel your whole world shattering. 
That's it, then. Even just a glance at those two blue lines will have immediately told Joel all he needs to know. Now he'll leave and he'd have every right. This is all your fault.
Your cheeks are wet again, but this time you can't bring yourself to care. Turning away from him, you curl back into a ball, ignoring the angry throbbing in your knees as you wait for him to yell or throw the test, or finally get up and walk out.
But he doesn't. Instead, you hear him delicately set the test back on the sink and then he lays down behind you on the floor, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your back into his chest.
His heartbeat is fast. It's racing against you and, yet, somehow his breathing is still so calm. The calm before the storm, you're sure of it. You tense, anticipation sitting heavily on your chest and lungs, and he can feel it.
His lips press into the back of your neck and even though the action is so tender and so Joel, you still can’t convince yourself that maybe you’ve misjudged this entire situation. Or that you’ve misjudged him.
“Sweetheart,” he sighs, resting his forehead between your shoulder blades. It hasn’t escaped your notice that he isn’t calling you baby anymore. You can’t tell if that’s for your benefit or his. "Tell me what you're thinkin'."
Time feels like it's moving in slow motion. You really don't mean to ignore him…it’s just that you’re not thinking anything. Lying there in his arms, your mind goes blank, giving in to the white noise of his heartbeat syncopating your own fragile rhythm. 
But somehow he seems to understand you completely, filling the silence himself. His voice lulls you into a false sense of security, or…no. No, that’s not right. It’s real. His security, his safety, is real and reliable, proven and palpable.
“Listen to me—I need ya to hear this, alright? I want whatever you want and if ya don’t want this, we’re not doin’ it,” he says firmly, like he means it with every fiber of his being. You do hear him. But your heart and mind are still rebelling, begging you to see their own senseless logic. Joel won’t stop until he convinces them, too.
“But if ya do…if—,” his voice trails off, cracking almost imperceptibly. At least, to anyone else but you. “—if ya wanna do this with me, then ‘m with ya. Every step of the way, ‘m with ya.”
Then, for the first time since those blue lines appeared in your life, you feel peace. And it's all him. He’s given you a choice—one you knew you always had, but never thought to factor him into. You didn’t think you deserved to involve him. But he does. He deserves that choice, too.
The floodgates open and soon you’re sobbing uncontrollably again, but this time it feels cathartic. Like he’s freed you from a prison of your own making. You find your voice, wet and shaky.
“Joel, I’m scared,” you weep, turning in his arms to finally meet his eyes. And there they are. Brown and beautiful and clear, unclouded by fear and regret, and you let them make you brave. For him and your tiny clump of cells. 
“What if I can’t do this? What—I…,” you hiccup through the disjointed thought, “—if I give up…if it’s just too hard...”
“S’why there’s two of us,” he bends down to murmur soothingly into your cheek, lips brushing against the corner of your own. “But ya can’t push me away anymore. If we do this, then we do it together,” and that lances straight through your heart, obliterating all doubt and setting your decision in stone. 
Together. You’re in this together.
“Okay,” you croak, sniffling as he wipes away your tears. You repeat it, clearer this time. “Okay.”
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FRIDAY
"You might think I'm crazy, the way I've been cravin'. If I put it quite plainly, just gimme them babies."
Doctors' offices have no business being as scary as they are. Bare and sterile, and not an ounce of color to be found anywhere but those creepy posters of in-depth diagrams of the human body. Gross.
You fight the urge to turn around and head straight back to the truck but, as if he can sense your plan to make a run for it, Joel places both hands on your shoulders and leads you toward the reception desk. 
“C’mon, we got this,” he says quietly in your ear, likely reassuring both of you. “We go in, they tell us you ’n the baby are healthy, then we get out.” 
You grimace. The baby. That’s still so weird. There’s literally a tiny being growing inside you, eating your food, and sitting on your fucking bladder. It’s like that thing in Alien that bursts out of people’s chests.
Great. Well, that’s officially off the list for movie night later, which Joel promised you'd have if you got your check-up without trying to escape. Technically, you’re doing great so far. And it’s an extremely tempting offer. 
Movie nights at the Miller house usually include a trip to 7/11 for popcorn, soda, and a box of your favorite candy. Those annoying cravings you’re just now realizing are because you’re pregnant would be extremely satiated by that. 
You’ll also get to curl up on the couch with Joel all night in a childless house because Sarah's staying at a friend’s. Win-win. But first, you have to make it through this check-up. 
Everything up until you’re inside the actual examination room isn’t actually so bad. The receptionist is nice enough, even though you can tell she deals with a lot of first-time moms by the way she treats you with baby gloves, and the wait time is less than 10 minutes. 
Yeah, you’ve totally got this. Or at least you did until the doctor shows up with an ultrasound machine and lifts your shirt to squeeze that freezing cold goop all over your stomach. You look up at Joel, scared and a little bewildered, and he takes your hand in his, rubbing soothing circles into your skin. The screen lights up with what you assume is a real-time view of the inside of your belly and, after that, it’s all sort of a blur. 
Six weeks. They tell you that you’re already six weeks pregnant, so you definitely conceived at that dumb wedding. At least you’ve got a story to tell. You’re also entering that fun stage where your nausea’s mostly cleared up, but now you’ll either be super tired or super horny at any given time. 
You try not to laugh when you feel Joel’s hand subtly twitch in yours. Of course, he perks up at that. Honestly, you’d be a liar if you said you weren’t going to enjoy it, too. Immensely.
Then, comes the big one. The entire point of this doctor’s visit, and the reason you and Joel are gripping each other so tight, you’re cutting off the other’s circulation. But it’s good news. Luckily, it's all good news.
Your tiny clump of cells is healthy, you’re healthy, and you can go home now, equipped with all of that very calming knowledge. One day, you’re going to have to stop calling them a clump, but you’ve decided today is not that day.
“Told ya it wouldn’t be so bad,” he teases as you walk out to the truck, still hand-in-hand. 
But his eyes betray his tone. There’s a seriousness to his joy, and you can see it so clearly in the way he’s looking at you like you’ve given him the greatest gift in the world. It makes you feel warm and…important. Loved. He continues, his voice tinged with something a little softer. 
“Thank you…for goin’, I mean. S’good to know that everythin’s alright. That you’re alright.”
You stop next to the car, meeting his gaze with what you hope is the same amount of love and affection you see, and throw your arms around his neck. 
“Thanks for taking me, and just…being here. Like, really being here, not just showing up so you can say you did,” you say earnestly, and he leans down to kiss you, his arms wrapping around you to pull you close.
“‘Course, baby. Don't have to thank me for that,” he mumbles against your lips. 
Not ready to separate from him, you deepen the kiss, running your tongue along his bottom lip until he opens for you and licking into his mouth freely. He groans as you press him into the side of the truck, his hands trailing down your sides to grip the plush of your ass through your jeans. 
You can feel him starting to stiffen against your belly and that carnal hunger the doctor warned you about takes over, the need to feel more, more of him overwhelming you. He’s just so solid everywhere. 
Your fingers skim underneath his shirt to feel his stomach flexing beneath your palms, and you roll your hips into his, gasping into his mouth at the friction. You’re so caught up in his hands on your body, his tongue in your mouth, that you don’t hear the group of people passing by on the other side of the truck.
But Joel does. He begrudgingly pulls away from you, hard as a rock and panting heavily. You whine at the loss, and he twitches against you in response.
“C’mon, baby, I’m not fuckin’ you in a goddamn Planned Parenthood parkin’ lot,” he chuckles, leading you to the passenger’s side of the car. He smacks your ass when you resist, and you shoot him a wounded glare. “Uh-uh, none’a that. ‘m takin’ you home. Owe ya a movie, don’t I?”
You perk up at the mention of his promise from earlier.
“You sure do. And candy, and popcorn, and soda,” you list off, easily distracted by the prospect of shitty junk food. You bounce into the car, shifting the seat to recline as far as it’ll go. “What are we watching?”
“Whatever you want, baby."
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Well, he did say he’d give you whatever you wanted. And for a while, it was the movie—you’d even picked out your favorite. But you only manage to get about 20 minutes in before Joel's arm around your shoulder and chest under your cheek become an unignorable distraction. 
Now, you want something else. 
You don't bother teasing or playing coy, not when he’s so solidly pressed against you, just begging to be had. Your body rises and falls with every breath he takes, and it’s so visceral, being close enough to touch and taste him, and yet not doing either. 
His neck looks especially delicious under the faint, fluorescent lighting of the TV, and your lips press wetly into the underside of his jaw, sucking delicately as your tongue darts out to taste him. His breath hitches, but he shows no other signs of being affected at all. 
Taking that as your cue to up the ante, you drop your hand onto his lap to tug at his belt, but he catches you before you can make any progress. You tilt your head back to look up at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but he just smirks, eyes still locked on the TV screen.
"You wanted a movie, didn't ya? Thought ya loved this one," he says teasingly. "You can wait a couple hours—I know ya can."
Yeah, you can, but that doesn't mean you want to. He was so into it in the parking lot, so what happened between then and now? You didn't think he liked this movie that much, but apparently you were mistaken. 
Settling back into his side, you try to shift your focus back to the movie, but then the hand on your shoulder starts to play with your hair. His fingers graze your neck, and you're back to squeezing your thighs together in frustration. 
He has to be doing this on purpose. Riling you up so much that once the movie’s finally over, you’ll be putty in his hands. Well, two can play that game. If he won't let you touch him, then you'll just have to touch yourself.
Your eyes flutter closed as you run your fingers down your belly, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts to drag your fingers up and down your slick folds. God, you didn't realize you were already so wet. You gasp softly as you trail upward toward your clit, but Joel's voice startles you out of your reverie. 
"Should ya be doin' that right now?" 
There's a tinge of warning to his voice, and it burns hot in your veins. You open your eyes slowly and he's finally looking at you, his attention drawn to your fingers still moving under the fabric.
"Well, you weren't gonna. What, are you—," your middle finger brushes against that sensitive bundle of nerves and you bite back a whine, "—you...ngh—gonna stop me?"
The hand that was gently stroking your hair shifts back to firmly grip the back of your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your fingers stutter. He leans in, his voice dangerously low in your ear.
"No, I'll let ya keep goin'. But you're gonna do exactly what I tell ya to, ya got that?" he murmurs, watching as your hips begin to swivel into your own sweet friction. "'n if you're good for me...," he trails off, eyes dropping down to where he's slowly jerking off his hardening cock through his jeans. "...I'll give ya this. We got a deal?"
You want him inside you so badly, you almost say yes before he's even done talking, but then you have a wicked thought. A counteroffer, of sorts.
"I'll take your deal. But—," you start with a devilish smile, and he raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue. "Only if you touch yourself, too. Want you to fuck your hand like you're fucking me."
"Deal," he says without hesitation.
"Deal," you smirk, removing your hand from your pussy for him to shake, your fingers sticky and glistening. 
He takes your proffered hand but, instead of shaking, he wraps his lips around your slick digits, sucking you off each one and groaning at your taste. What you wouldn't give to have that tongue in your mouth. Or buried in your cunt. Pulling off with a lewd pop, he nods at your lap.
"Take your fuckin' pants off. Now."
Shit, he doesn't have to tell you twice. You quickly shimmy out of your shorts and underwear, and wait for his next instructions. You'll be a good girl for him. The best girl he's ever had and ever will.
"Spread 'em. Show me how wet you are for me," he mumbles, kicking your legs apart. 
You spread them as wide as you can. The cool night breeze filtering in through the open window meets your center, and you're suddenly aware of how much wetter you've gotten since you started. It almost makes your mouth water. You don't think you've ever been this turned on by your own body in your life.
Slick coats your thighs, seeping into the couch, and he looks pleased. You can see he wants to touch you just as badly as you want to touch yourself. Your knee bumps into his thigh and he hooks your leg over his, holding you open. 
"Shit, would'ja look at that," he breathes out in awe. "Prettiest pussy I've ever seen."
Your cunt visibly clenches at the praise and he hisses in a breath through his teeth, resting his hand on your thigh so he can lean over your body. He lingers for a moment like he's admiring you laid out for him like this, but then moves a little closer and spits a thick glob of saliva right onto your clit. 
Your jaw drops, a loud gasp torn from your chest when he grabs your hand, using your fingers to gather it up and swirl it around your swollen nub. Shit, if he keeps going like this, you're going to cum and fast. 
Dropping your head back onto his shoulder, you rock into your fingers, slipping through the mess he's made of your pussy, and your body starts to feel like a rubber band about to snap. 
"Wanna taste you so fuckin' bad. Fuck you on my tongue 'til you're nice 'n ready for me," he growls, pressing your fingers harder onto your clit. "S'that what you want? Wanna cum in my mouth?"
You turn to bury your head into the crook of his neck, nodding frantically as you cry into the soothing warmth of his skin. You're going to cum. Fuck, fuck, you're going to cum. Your eyes start to roll back as you feel it crescendo, and then—
Then, he releases your hand, cruelly and unapologetically. 
"Not yet, baby. We both gotta be patient, don't we?" he teases you again, and your eyes snap open.
What the fuck. No, you're not letting him edge you again. It was fun and all at the gym, but you're way too far gone to be playing games right now. 
And how isn't he a total wreck? Both of his hands are on you, even though that wasn't part of the deal, so he can't be taking care of himself.
Your eyes drop down to his lap, and wow. This man has more willpower than you ever could've imagined. He's so hard, you can see the tip of his cock peeking out above the waistband of his pants. And it's leaking everywhere, twitching and angrily dribbling precum all over the fabric. 
He looks...so fucking good like this. Fuck, you want him so bad. But that means getting back on track, and it's obviously on you to make that happen. Clearly, he's more affected by all of this than he made it seem.
"Joel, please, just tell me what to do," you plead. You'll beg if you have to. Whatever it takes for you to finally get what you want.
"Alright, alright," he concedes, taking sympathy on you, likely reaching his limit himself. "'m gonna let you make yourself feel good, baby. Don't'chu worry."
"Great," you grit through your teeth. "Then start by taking your fucking pants off."
He chuckles at his words thrown back at him, but listens, regardless. His boxers and jeans are pulled off in two hard tugs, and his cock bounces against his stomach, thick and wet, and unfairly far from your aching pussy. The hand on your neck moves to gently caress the side of your cheek.
"Gonna start nice 'n slow, ya got that?" he says, biting back a groan as he wraps his fingers around his neglected cock. He starts to pump himself, and more precum leaks out. "Watch me."
But it didn't need to be said. You're already enraptured by the way he strokes himself, slow and steady, swiping his thumb over the head on every upstroke. He's panting softly, trying to keep his hips from jerking up into his fist, but you can see how much effort it's taking not to.
"C'mon, baby. Gimme one finger—your middle finger, all the way in," he commands, his voice as tight as his grip.
You tear your eyes away from him while you run your fingers through your folds, still slick with his saliva and your own desire, and then sink your finger into yourself knuckle by knuckle. It doesn't feel like much, and you both know it, but at least it's something. 
"Now, follow me," he says, watching your hand as intently as you're watching his. 
You rock your finger in and out slowly, just like he said. Because you're his good girl and good girls do what they're told. It’s already a sticky mess, your finger creamier with every thrust, and he groans out his appreciation. 
"Good girl. Add another one. Not too fast, now." 
Finally, you get some real relief. Slipping your index finger in alongside your middle finger, you feel that little bit of stretch you've been aching for and you can't help but whimper.
His lips part, brows furrowing as his hand speeds up. His eyes are locked on where your sopping cunt is sucking in your fingers greedily and, fuck, he's even more of a mess now. Sweat dripping from his temples, chest heaving with the effort of holding himself back. 
So hot. So fucking hot. It's scorching, the way your cunt feels around your fingers as you fuck into yourself a little faster. They're rubbing your walls just right, your palm grazing your clit after every stroke, and his hyper-focused gaze makes it all feel that much better. You want to hear him say it again. For him to tell you how well you’re doing.
"—ngh...i-is this good?" you whine, knowing how pathetic you sound, but forgetting to care.
"Perfect, baby. You're perfect," he rasps, unable to keep his hips from snapping up into his fist as the sweet sounds of your wet squelching reach his ears. "So fuckin' good for me."
Preening hard at his praise, you push a little too deep into yourself and graze something mind-numbing that almost hurts with how good it feels. You cry out, curling your fingers into it again and again as you bury your face back into his neck. His arm tightens around your shoulder and he leans over to press his lips soothingly against your forehead. 
"That's it, baby, just like that. Doin' so well," he groans, lips brushing against your skin. His strokes are frantic now and you know he can’t last much longer. "Need ya to gimme one more. Just one—last one, promise. Then I'll give ya whatever you want."
Nodding quickly, face still cushioned against his shoulder, you add your ring finger, and fucking hell, you’re so full. You stretch your fingers apart, pumping them in and out the best you can, and they drag against that spot—every spot—with how tight you are. But somehow it’s not enough. It’s not Joel’s cock, so it’ll never be enough. 
Everything’s drowned out except for the wet sounds of skin on skin, and Joel’s voice, still just above your brow, talking you through your almost painful pleasure. He’s panting, whispering tender words that you can’t hear so much as feel with those soft, perfect lips.
“…tell me when you’re close, baby. Can’t feel ya, gonna need you to use your words,” he barely chokes out, staving off his orgasm, waiting for you. 
It’s already close, but you’re only teetering, stuck in a constant loop of almost there, and need more. You can’t reach where you need to, but Joel can. So easily and all you have to do is ask. He said he’d give you whatever you wanted.
But you didn’t realize he was already at his limit, and you don’t get the chance to tell him before he’s babbling, delirious with the need to cum.
"'m sorry—fuck, 'm sorry. Need...to—ngh, fuck, need to cum inside you...fill you up...," he moans, and he sounds upset like he can’t help himself, not anymore.
Abruptly, so much quicker than you can fully process, your fingers are yanked out of your cunt and replaced by his cock, and the thrust is so harsh, he hits exactly where you need him to without even trying. The whine building in your chest erupts as a wail as you immediately lock down around him, sending him over the edge with you.
Full. God, how can you feel this full? You’re so unbelievably aware of him cumming inside you and there’s so much, he’s already leaking out of you. And he almost seems angry about it. Your hips are roughly tilted up so he’s fucking down into you, eyes unfocused, and snarling like a wild animal.
And still so mouthy.
“You got no idea how good ya look right now. Fuckin’ glowin’,” he all but slurs, drunk on the idea of keeping his seed inside you. “S’that my baby in you, makin’ ya glow like that?”
"Oh...oh, god, fuck, Joel,” you whimper, your aftershocks still milking him dry. “Christ, y-you trying to knock me up twice?" 
It’s like that alone makes him redouble his efforts. You’ve never seen him like this before, but you like it. Something primal in you wants this as badly as he does.
"Fuck yeah, baby, gonna pump you full'a twins."
Holy shit. You’re not sure if you’re still cumming or if you just came again, but you feel an entirely new rush of pleasure and he hisses out a breath through his teeth like he can feel it. Not long after, sensitivity starts to set in for both of you and he stills, seated deeply inside you, chest heaving and eyes shut tight. 
His hands squeeze where they’ve been aggressively gripping your thighs before he reluctantly pulls out, but he keeps your hips tilted up as he drops to sit between your legs on the cushion below.
“There a reason I can’t lay down like a normal person?” you laugh, wiggling in his grasp. “Joel, come on, put me down. I’m already pregnant.”
“Just gimme a minute,” he mumbles, suddenly sounding so solemn. He turns his head from where it's resting on the side of your knee to kiss your damp skin. “Didn’t know I was knockin’ you up the first time, just…lemme have this, alright?” 
Your eyes soften. How this man can be such a sap after fucking you like that is beyond comprehension, but if he wants this, then you’ll let him have his moment. It’s kind of sweet, anyway.
“Okay,” you reach up to brush your fingertips along his cheek. It's incredible, really, all of the things you see in Joel's eyes right now. That in this single, fleeting gaze, you can see forever. "Put a baby in me.”
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SATURDAY
"Can you stay up all night? Fuck me 'til the daylight. 34, 35."
You’re convinced Joel tastes especially good in the mornings. There’s a hint of sweat to his skin, so naturally bitter and heady, maybe even a little tangy. It’s fucking delicious.
And he’s always hard in the morning. His cock is the perfect alarm clock, always reliable and super effective, whether it’s pulsing against your thigh or rutting into your ass. It’s your favorite way to wake up, but there’s usually not enough time to enjoy it to the fullest.
Not with work and Sarah, even Tommy showing up for breakfast unannounced. But it’s Saturday, which means you can keep your lips wrapped around him for as long as you want, make him cum as many times as you want, and taste him to your heart’s content. 
He probably won’t even wake up, at least not right away. Joel sleeps like the dead, especially on the weekends, and it’s been a long week. Even now, as you suck the tip into your wet, very eager mouth and swallow him down halfway, he barely stirs. 
That’s more than okay with you. You’d be happy to lie in bed, head pillowed on his stomach, keeping his cock warm between your lips while you wait. Relishing how fucking good he tastes and how your jaw pleasantly aches as you adjust to accommodate his girth.
But, soon enough, your jaw isn’t the only thing aching. The slick mess you’re making in your underwear right now is getting hard to ignore, but you don’t want to let him go. He’s velvety smooth against your tongue, dribbling salty precum down your throat, and his unconscious body is starting to respond to you more and more with each passing moment. This is your favorite part.
He lets out a soft grunt, twitching into the inside of your cheek, and your efforts become a little more concentrated and a lot more obvious. You try to forget about your soaked underwear and the pleasurable whoosh in your belly in favor of sucking a little harder, letting saliva pool in your mouth as you slurp loudly around the head.
His hips jerk up, surprising you enough to gag you, and that only makes your mouth and pussy wetter, the heat building in your core almost unbearable now. The moan that escapes you sends a drawn-out series of vibrations straight down to his balls that pulls even more noise from him, and your head steadily shifts with the rapid rise and fall of his chest.
He's starting to rut into your mouth, whimpering, and yet somehow still asleep, and it makes you feel powerful to have full control over him like this. To command his pleasure without any interruption or intervention, making him fall apart entirely at your mercy. You kind of hope you can get him to cum like this, to be his alarm clock for once. 
Turns out only half of your wish is granted, but you don't realize it until Joel's fingers are threading into your hair and abruptly tugging you off. He's definitely awake now, but he also definitely didn't cum. Bummer. You try sucking him back into your mouth, but he tugs you harder even as his hips chase you. 
"Joel, what—?" you glare up at him, but upon seeing him, you feel a little bad for your reaction. He looks so sleepy, still a little dazed from his unconventional wake-up call, blinking blearily like he's doing his best to stay awake. Your expression softens. 
"Sorry, got a little carried away," you murmur sheepishly. "But, um, you taste really good, so if you wanna go back to sleep, I can just keep—"
You're cut off by a hand trailing down your body, following the curve of your ass to dip inside you. He smears the moisture around your entrance, pushing two fingers into you, then pulling out to hold them up to his face. You watch him, enraptured by the way he inspects your wetness, how it strings between his middle and ring fingers. 
Then, he surprises you even further by sucking them into his mouth, his eyes rolling back as he groans around them before slipping them out totally clean. His cock jerks next to your face and you belatedly realize you're drooling.
"Fuck, so do you." He's fully awake now, eyes clear, but dark. Hungry.
"Huh?" you ask dumbly. 
"Ya taste really good," he mumbles, his voice low and so sexy, still thick with sleep. You feel your cheeks heat up. Oh. 
"C'mere, baby," he tells you, patting his chest. You crawl up his body and lean up to kiss him, assuming he wants you to taste yourself in his mouth, but he stops you. "Other way, sweetheart."
Your brows furrow in confusion as you try to work out exactly what he's asking for. Even though you've been awake and riling him up for what feels like hours, your brain clearly hasn't caught up yet. His eyes are unreadable, fingers tense at his sides. Like he's just itching for you to understand.
"Need you to figure this out—know you can do it," he rasps needily. "C'mon, smart girl, what do I want?"
And then it hits you. He's not asking you to sit on his chest, not really. He wants you to sit on his face. Needs you to. Sprawled out on your hands and knees where his spit-slick cock would be just within reach, bobbing temptingly with every breath he takes.
God, you want to. The idea of Joel fucking you with his tongue while he's fucking into your mouth makes you clench so hard it hurts. You bite your lip, meeting his expectant gaze.
Okay. Okay, you can definitely do that. Especially when he looks so...eager. It also has the double advantage of combining mind-blowing sex with a well-rounded breakfast. You have a feeling you'll both be full after this.
"Just so I have this straight—," you splay your fingers across his stomach, trailing down to wrap tightly around his length and tug upward until a single, perfect bead of precum leaks from his slit, "—you still want my mouth here."  
Your eyes stay locked on his as you bend down to lick it off, lingering to suckle the tip and tease your tongue just under the ridge. When he doesn't immediately tug you off, you take him deeper, preening at his harsh intake of breath. 
You don't want to press your luck, but he tastes fucking incredible, somehow even better than he did earlier. Maybe it's the way he's watching you, captivated and attuned to your every movement. 
He’s already starting to buck into you, shallowly, now an active participant in his own pleasure. His knuckles are nearly white with how hard he’s fisting the sheets, teeth gritting as he fights the urge to rush you. 
But his patience is wearing thin. Just a few thrusts later, he tugs you off with what feels like dwindling restraint, and your dazed, glassy eyes don't do much to help.
You look wrecked, and you know it. Lips swollen and slick with saliva, your lashes wet with unshed tears from the effort of taking him. He reaches out to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, hissing when you catch the tip between your teeth.
“Yeah...ngh—yeah, keep doin' that. Suckin' me just like that," he breathes raggedly. "And sit that pretty pussy right here—"
Then, without warning, he's suddenly manhandling you into position, throwing your leg over his head, and maneuvering you until you can feel him panting heavily against your cunt.
“Down, baby, let's go. Wanna taste ya. Now.”
Blunt nails dig into your skin and your hips stutter, dipping low enough for your clit to brush his bottom lip. It’s enough for him to get a taste of you. For him to finally snap and decide he’s done waiting.
Joel yanks you onto his face, licking a wide stripe from your clit to your entrance, his tongue immediately finding a home in your pussy. The motion knocks you off balance and you fall forward, his cock just inches from your mouth.
Bracing a hand on his stomach, you wrap your other around him and he groans throatily in response, the sound deep and muffled as he licks into you with increased fervor. And his noises only grow in volume, vibrating against your folds and sending jolt after jolt into your very sensitive bundle of nerves. 
His mouth feels so fucking hot, and the coarseness of his beard burns, making it hard to concentrate on what you’re desperately trying to accomplish. You’re already panting, hiccuped breaths puffing teasingly and cruelly against him until he’s pulsing in your grip. 
The promise of him throbbing just like that down your throat makes you focus just long enough to take him back into your mouth, intent on sucking him down as far as your body will let you. But, by now, any sense of self-control he might’ve had before is totally gone. His hips buck clean off the mattress at the tightness of your lips around him, and he all but chokes you with the force of it, the size of him. 
And, fuck, you love it. The way his stomach tenses, his thighs trembling beneath you. You can’t tell where your body ends and his begins, not when he’s fucking into you every single way he can. His tongue spears into you and your pussy rhythmically squeezes him every time his cock grazes the back of your throat. 
You’re audibly gagging around him and it’s filthy as hell, but you can tell how much it’s turning him on. Christ, can you tell. Maybe you were genuinely worried you’d suffocate him at first but, now, you probably couldn’t stop yourself from grinding into his face even if you tried. And that's exactly what he wants.
"...Harder—mmph, c'mon, baby," you feel him groan into your cunt, urging your hips even lower. "—ride me harder, harder."
How—he...fuck, he's...? Everywhere. He's everywhere. You struggle to do what he told you, to use him for your mounting pleasure, but it doesn't fucking matter anymore. You're helpless but to let him do whatever he wants to you.
Joel’s devouring you. Roughly grabbing your ass, moaning pathetically into you as he pulls your cheeks apart for better access. It’s almost like you can feel him swelling between your lips, and you try to pull up for just a second of respite. 
But, then, he abruptly shifts. His mouth lowers to suck gently, yet fleetingly on your clit twice, then he licks a wide stripe back up to your entrance. Except, he doesn’t stop there. Instead, he continues his path up, gathering your wetness as he goes, and swirls his tongue around your other hole before sucking hard. And it sends you reeling.
Jesus fucking Christ, that’s new. Fuck, and it’s—so...so good. It’s indescribable, how he feels right now. How he sounds—slurping you up, whimpering desperately like he’ll cum at any moment. 
And he’s loud, drawn-out moans escaping from so deep within his chest, they climb their way from that tight ring of muscle straight up your spine, where you can vaguely feel his arm snaking around you to claw at your back. You can’t think anymore—you’re done thinking. 
Now, it’s just him trapping you in place, the three fingers he’s suddenly pumping into your spasming pussy, and his cock, now abandoned and leaking on his stomach. It’s so much, bordering on too much, and you can’t hold yourself up anymore.
Your head drops unceremoniously onto the puddle of precum and it smears across your cheek as his hips urgently roll into nothing. But you don’t even notice. Not even when your eyes roll back and you start to babble deliriously, your orgasm building quickly in a place between your legs you can’t even begin to explain.
“Joel…JoelJoelJoel—I…you…,” you slam a hand down on the mattress as your thighs start to quake violently. “…cumming—‘m cumming, fuck—fuck.”
It doesn’t just crash over you, it rocks you to your core. Everything below your waist locks down, squeezing his fingers so tight, you swear you can feel each individual knuckle. Your jaw drops, parting around what feels like a silent scream, but you can’t be totally sure because soon, Joel is groaning so gutturally, you can’t focus on anything else.
At least, until he cums completely untouched right into your face. And he cums hard. Thick spurts cover your lips and chin, landing haphazardly on your cheek, and your tongue darts out to taste him, salty and sated and perfect. Exactly what you've been waiting for.
His thighs tense intermittently, a few more drops dribbling out of his slit, and you crane your neck, letting your tongue flutter over his head. As it pulses weakly against your lips, Joel gasps out your name, burying his face in your swollen pussy again. 
Lazily, you swivel your hips into his mouth despite the extreme overstimulation, hiccuping soft moans and nearly succumbing to the easy pleasure. He gently caresses your clit, enveloping you with a dextrous warmth that simultaneously makes you jolt and crave the sensation. 
Neither of you want to stop. Truthfully, you'd let him do this to you all day, drawing orgasm after orgasm from each other the way you have been all week. But exhaustion's starting to set in and you're not sure your body can physically take any more.
Joel slaps your ass and you huff out a soft laugh, deciding it's time to separate so you can get cozy with him again. The perfect end to your surprisingly athletic, lazy Saturday morning in bed.
“You gonna stop anytime soon, or do you just live there now?” you pant teasingly, grimacing as you slowly lift your head off his stomach. 
Shit, you’re a mess. You’re practically stuck to him, his cum drying on his stomach and your face, and you can feel the stickiness of his saliva mixed with your juices dripping between your legs. His hand trails from your ass down to your inner thigh, painting mindless patterns on your sullied skin.
"Sure don't seem like ya want me to stop," he chuckles tiredly, managing to suck your clit chastely one last time before you jerk your hips away. 
His head finally drops onto the pillow below him, and he lets out a disgruntled whine when you toss your leg over his head, plopping down on the bed beside him.
"Yeah, well, one of us has to have a little self-control or we're not leaving this bed today. And you, uh, look like you could use some tidying up,” you snort, scratching your fingertips against his already crusting beard. He mimics the motion on your leg, and you swat his hand away, rolling your eyes fondly.
It would be disgusting if it were literally anyone else but Joel but, here in this bed—your bed—it feels so natural. Like it’s totally normal that you’d be covered in each other’s releases, having a silly conversation on a Saturday morning as if you’ve done this all your lives. 
“Might wanna look in the mirror, baby. I’d be more’n happy to keep lookin’ at ya like this, but—,” he leans up to wipe a streak of cum off your bottom lip. His hand lingers, cupping your damp cheek, and you instinctively lean into his touch. “—you probably need more cleanin’ up than I do.” 
You eye each other for a few seconds, taking in how truly disgusting you both are, before bursting into fits of laughter. You’re smiling so hard, your skin tugs under his drying release and that makes you laugh even harder.
“Alright, alright, filthy girl,” he jokes, wiping a stray tear from his eye. “Lay down, I’ll take care of ya.”
He sits up and slowly slides off the bed, yanking your legs out from under you as he goes. Still giggling, you flop onto the damp, cotton sheets with an oomph and immediately take the opportunity to stretch out your sore limbs. You nuzzle into your pillow with a soft mewl, practically purring as you try to soak up the warm morning rays streaming through the gaps in the curtains.
You glance over at Joel as you continue to nest like a gigantic cat, but he's already watching you, paused in the doorway to the bathroom. His eyes rove appreciatively down your naked body and you observe him quietly, deciding you'll let him stare for as long as he wants to. There's no rush. Sure, you're still a mess and probably have the worst bedhead imaginable, but despite it all, he makes you feel beautiful. 
When he returns with a cool, damp washcloth a few minutes later, he's much cleaner and you're only a little bummed that the evidence of your explosive morning is gone. He's gentle and attentive as he wipes the remaining streaks off your cheeks and chin, and bends down to kiss you once your face is officially cum-free. 
Okay, maybe you lied earlier. This is your favorite part. Joel taking care of you, choosing to express his affection through his actions and touch. You sigh into his mouth, melting into the first real kiss you've shared since waking up, and it takes his tongue tangling with yours for you to realize he tastes minty. He's always so delicious.
Trailing further down, he wipes his release off your stomach, pressing his lips to each freshly-cleaned inch of skin, and then crawls between your legs to wash away the mess he made of your thighs. Your eyes start to flutter closed at the repetitive shift in sensation, his hands lulling you to sleep, until the washcloth hits the floor with a dull splat.
Well, that was over way too soon. But you quickly forgive the horrible transgression once his warm, welcome body sinks into the bed next to you, and his tousled head of hair and beard nuzzle into your stomach.
He mouths at your skin, his lips pressing sweetly around your belly button, and it tickles, making you laugh as you thread your fingers through his curls and scratch his scalp affectionately. 
After a moment of comfortable silence, his hand splays warm and broad next to his head. His expression shifts and he looks unexpectedly pensive. Uncertainty creeps into your chest before you can logic it away, even though you know without a doubt that he wants this. His lips begin to move against your stomach and it takes a second for you to realize he's saying something, almost too quietly for you to hear. But when it finally registers, all of that fear completely fades away.
"Hey there, kiddo. It's me, your daddy," he murmurs, his thumb rubbing circles into your skin as soothing as his words. He has the tiniest smile on his face, and it's growing wider by the second. "We're all so excited to meet ya. Me, your momma, your big sister, your uncle...we already love ya so damn much."
The room starts to blur into a wash of colors and figures, and shit, you're crying. But how could you not be? He's...talking to your tiny clump of cells. To your baby—who can't possibly be bigger than a pumpkin seed—with so much adoration, it makes your chest ache. 
You're trying so hard not to tremble or sniffle or breathe too heavily so you don't startle him, but that doesn't exactly work out. A few stray tears make their way up your nose, and you snort around your next inhale. Classic, clumsy you.
Joel's head shoots up like he's been caught and his cheeks flush that beautiful shade of burgundy you love so much. You don't want him to stop, but he looks so embarrassed like he thinks he's done something wrong. That couldn't be further from the truth. 
"I'm just emotional from the hormones, it's totally fine. I'm totally fine," you give him a reassuring, watery grin. "Keep going. I think they like the sound of daddy's voice."
He chuckles and reaches up to wipe your tears away, gently cradling your face in his hand before he slides it back down to your belly. He continues where he left off, just like you asked, but you have a sneaking suspicion he would've anyway. Joel's just one of those men who was born to be a dad. It comes as naturally to him as breathing.
“Heard that? That's your momma, kiddo. She's....well. She's somethin' else. Strongest, most lovin', person I've ever known and fuckin' sharp as a tack," he smiles up at you, eyes crinkling and bright as the goddamn sun. "And she's beautiful. She even sounds beautiful, don't she? Hopin' you'll come out just like her."
You scoff affectionately, shaking your head as you share a look that tells you he knows exactly what you're thinking. If this baby pops out without his brown eyes and curls, you're going to be so pissed. You teasingly tug his hair, willing him to take it back, but he won't. If your baby's getting anything from the two of you, it's stubbornness.
Then, before you can blink, there's a sudden tone shift. His hand finds yours, lacing your fingers together, and he turns his head so he's speaking directly into your belly. An exchange just between a father and his child.
"Wanna know a secret? S'just between you and me, though, alright? Don't go tellin' your momma," he says nosing into your soft skin, his voice barely above a whisper. You watch him curiously, squeezing his hand to get his attention, but his focus remains on your stomach. "'m gonna ask your momma to marry me. Think she'll say yes?"
Your heart stops and it feels like all of the air's been sucked out of the room. That's—fuck...that's one hell of a secret to share with your baby. You can't even imagine the kind of trouble they're going to get up to if they're already keeping secrets like that. 
His eyes flit up to meet yours, but they're not questioning or expectant. He isn't wondering what your answer will be. He just looks peaceful. Blanketed in an easy calm because he already knows what you're going to say. Of course, he does. 
Propping his chin on your hip, Joel quietly observes your reaction while he strokes the back of your hand with the rough pad of his thumb. You wonder what he sees on your face and in your body language right now because you're positive it's not the elation or excessive joy anyone else would expect.
You're not squealing or jumping up and down, or whatever newly engaged people usually do. No, that blanket of easy calm is more than big enough for both of you, and it feels safe and warm, just like you always knew this moment would. 
And you wouldn't want it any other way. Lying here together after possibly the most eventful week of your lives, filled with so much sex and love and family, and deciding that you want to keep doing this together, over and over. Forever.
You guide his hand up to your lips, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to his palm, before placing it over your racing heart. That tiny smile returns to his face and he crawls up your body so he can kiss you properly, conveying his love better than words ever could. 
It's still way too early for your baby to kick or give their daddy any sort of sign that they heard his question, but you're sure they wouldn't mind if you answered for them. It's a no-brainer, anyway.
"Yeah, I do."
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thanks for reading! 💕
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ayakashiz · 18 days
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Alien Stage R6 Analysis
VERY LONG compilation of my interpretations, impressions and unanswered questions about Round 6 of Alien Stage. I just wanted to write this to put all my thoughts in one place so I can finally rest (in pieces). TW for mentions of suic*de/suic*dal ideation.
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The most debated is no doubt the kiss/choking scene and Ivan’s motivation for doing so in the first place. 
I think from the very beginning, even before R3, Ivan was planning to go out with a bang. That’s the immediate impression I got from the comic where he mocks/criticizes Sua for planning to “selfishly” die for Mizi and feel good being the “heroine” rather than having to deal with the trauma of being the one left behind. 
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(I'm too lazy to edit the whole translation as of now, but might do so when I have more time.)
Ivan tells her how he’s “relieved that he’s not the only who’s that twisted” = He’s comparing himself to Sua. He thinks they’re both ‘twisted’ for planning to do the same thing, but from Ivan’s perspective, he at least isn’t fooling himself into thinking his motives are altruistic. He tasted the feeling of being ‘abandoned’, and he knows he doesn’t want to experience it twice. 
He also probably thought that his death wouldn’t be as impactful on Till as Sua’s death on Mizi, and therefore his own selfishness is more justified in his mind. This most likely plays a role in how cold and biting his words are towards Sua –he’s jealous of that difference between them.
I hadn’t noticed this detail the first time I watched the video: Not only did Till look absolutely miserable and defeated from the get go, but he completely gave up and stopped singing at some point. If you look at the video, we can hear the audio that was supposed to be sung, but Till is quiet and still, and THIS is the moment Ivan chooses to act.
Although they do not show the votes at that particular moment, stopping mid song would have definitely taken a hit to Till’s score as it’s basically forfeiting –a huge contrast to his previous match where he didn’t even let his opponent utter a single line.
In response, Ivan doesn’t just walk towards him but throws his microphone to the ground, explicitly forfeiting as well in order to then pull a drastic move like it was foreshadowed in his interview.
The kiss itself imo was the less calculated/arguably unplanned part. He could have just choked Till from the start and it would have gotten him the same if not better results (since it was the act of violence against another contestant that ultimately lowered his score and got the counter to stop). 
That kiss was authentic and for himself entirely, both as a last desperate attempt at conveying his feelings and a selfish way of leaving a strong impression on Till that he wouldn’t be able to forget (a hypocritical move going back to how he criticized Sua). In that sense, I don’t think Ivan was seriously trying to take Till down with him –although that’s up to interpretation. As I see it, that would contradict his actions up until that point.
Till was VERY CLEARLY suic*dal (once again, he gave up singing), and after the initial shock of Ivan squeezing his neck, this fiery, rebellious man who is KNOWN to fight tooth and nail, simply closed his eyes and relaxed his body, waiting for Ivan to end him without fighting at all. 
The thing is, no matter how suic*dal one may be, the fighting response when being actually suffocated is automatic and completely involuntary. People mention there not being marks on Till’s neck but I think the most telling sign is him not going red, not squirming, not struggling or holding onto Ivan’s wrists (again, expected involuntary responses), his eyes not watering or having blurry vision while we see Ivan from his POV, not opening his mouth even a little to gasp for air and not coughing or gasping either when he was finally released.
Ivan definitely had him in a strong grip, might have even made him a bit lightheaded, but the reason why Till could look so relaxed in the first place is because he had given up and was waiting for Ivan to go ahead. If his closed eyes and limp posture were due to the choking itself, he would have fallen or stumbled when being let go, but we see that his eyes open as soon as he feels Ivan’s hands slipping away and he looks shocked instead.
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So then what was Ivan’s motivation, if not to kill him? Yes, there’s the already discussed plan to get himself disqualified. But Ivan glances at the screen only a few seconds after he starts the choking, confirming that the voting had in fact stopped with Till having the higher score. He then goes for one last ‘goodbye’ kiss before continuing to choke him, holding his grip even as he starts getting shot.
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We see a closeup of him, his eyes and hands trembling, looking more frustrated/emotional than in Till’s first POV where he looks rather stoic. It makes me think that the reason he refused to let go was simply because he wanted Till to look at him. 
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They strongly imply throughout the whole video that being annoying or mean or violent was the only way Ivan learnt how to make Till focus his full attention on him, but now even as he’s threatening his life, even as he himself is dying, even after that kiss, Till wouldn’t look. 
It took him getting fatally wounded and realizing there was no turning back to reach a state of acceptance. His bittersweet expression here reminds me A LOT of his smile after Till runs back during the meteor scene, although this one seems a lot more tender. He seems to accept the fact that Till will never love him back, but Ivan cannot stop loving him anyways and he at least got to put his feelings out there. 
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(The parallels here are driving me insane. The way there is light in his eyes in both instances as he looks at Till even while 'losing him' in a way. The struggle between wanting to posses him yet realizing his free spirit/strong will is part of what he loves about him. That last genuine gaze from a character who spent his whole life putting on a mask. Yes I am very normal about this.)
Until then, Ivan’s more tender/vulnerable side is only shown while Till is unconscious or looking away.
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(That soft, loving nuzzle to Till's face has me in SHAMBLES.)
But ironically, it’s only when he releases him and shows him this vulnerability without a mask that Till really looks at him for the first time. I’d go as far as to say that it was this moment, and not the kiss, that finally made Till understand Ivan’s feelings. And in turn Ivan gets that little shot of euphoria as he falls to the ground.
Going back to the survivor’s guilt… I can only imagine it’ll go completely downhill for Till from now on. Not only does he already think Mizi might be dead and is angry at himself that he couldn’t save her (as seen in the shot where he punches his own picture), but now he has most likely realized that Ivan intentionally fumbled their match for his sake –which would lead to the realization that he was the reason why Ivan chose to run back to Anakt Garden after him in the first place, and that choice ultimately lead to his death. 
Even though we see them fighting a lot as children through the videos and comics, it’s also implied that they were always together and they shared some quiet moments –the “Mizi didn’t play with you, I played with you” art, all that art of the main 4 playing together, those bright smiles as they ran away together during the meteor shower scene and Till looking so guilty when he let go of his hand. 
There are a few cute doodles of them for those who are on Patreon, and some more lore in the Anakt Garden kit –so they were at the very least friends in their own way (as best as 2 very traumatized and abused children could), constantly fighting and making up. Which God… it shows that despite appearances Till must have actually had the patience of a saint when they were little lmao.
But what I’m trying to say is that despite what Ivan may have thought, his death will most definitely have an impact on Till and the narrative going forward, and I’m excited to find out how that reflects in the final round (if the resistance doesn’t manage to get back up in time to disrupt it). 
Despite how much I adored (and SUFFERED WITH) this round, I still have MANY questions that were left unanswered, both about Ivan and Till, and the lore in general, and I wonder if there’ll be time to answer them all, as I can imagine the next MV will be focused on Luka’s perspective, the only one we haven’t been presented with.
One of the most pressing questions being: What’s the relationship between Ivan and that alien dog? Did he tame it? It is implied that it was Ivan who somehow led Till and Mizi to it in the first place in that one scene, and if so I wonder what his motivation was? Normally jealousy would be the first thing to come to mind but Ivan wasn’t interested in Till until AFTER he saw him stand up to the beast to protect Mizi, so it couldn’t have been that. 
This is something that was also teased on Patreon and I was looking forward to the explanation on the MV, but it never came, and now Ivan is dead, so the next video will most likely not be too concerned with his backstory any longer. (Which, also, I was really curious about his life in the slums before being captured, auctioned and brought to Anakt, as that would have played a huge role in his twisted personality/dark tendencies –once again teased on Patreon very briefly, but not explained beyond that frame of him looking famished.)
The second is, how is Ivan able to open Till’s collar/muzzle so easily? This is a question I’ve been having since R3, but chalked it up to Ivan being sneaky and figuring out some kind of code to the cell door and that somehow automatically deactivating the locks on the restraints… or something. But with how many times he does it in R6 with just a touch it’s very clear that that isn’t the case and also imo they’re trying to point this out as a significant detail. 
It may turn out that I’m just looking too much into it, but I find it really curious and interesting. Not only is he the only child without a collar (Mizi and Sua still had them despite being just as well behaved as him), but he seems to be the only one able to take them off –or at least Till’s. I’m pretty sure the children wouldn’t normally be able to remove them by themselves as it seems to be a control mechanism. So how can Ivan? This might explain a lot about how they were able to escape, and also add a layer of tragedy knowing that Ivan could have chosen to escape by himself at any point, but refused to leave Till behind.
Last but not least there’s all the human experimentation Till was subjected to, which was the main topic of the teaser and we see the same images show up in the very beginning of the MV. They help emphasize Till’s suffering and distressed state of mind, but then they’re never expanded on or mentioned at all for the rest of the video. That’s a huge piece of lore that I also hope isn’t forgotten.
I mean, I really doubt it will. So far VIVINOS & co. have been incredible with their ability to hold back information and release it at the moment where it’s the most impactful, which is refreshing to see. So I trust we’ll get some answers eventually. 
Really curious to know why they would experiment on an ALNST contestant in the first place, especially one that is undoubtedly talented and described as a musical genius (aka. has good odds of doing well on stage and earning the segyein revenue). A very plausible theory might just be that he was just getting constantly drugged to make him less of a threat/more submissive –like we see on the karaoke room scene. But it might as well be something bigger.
As for my expectations for the next round… I’m still just trying to process this one, as you can see by the sheer amount of text. There are many things left to address, and the Hyuna/Luka confrontation has been strongly teased. I wonder also, if the round goes on without interruption, what would Luka’s strategy against Till be? Would he go for provocation again, trying to imitate Mizi/hint to his recent trauma with Ivan? It probably won’t be that simple.
I mean, VIVINOS has been known for subverting our expectations with each round:
The ominous/callous framing that was given to Ivan by the end of Black Sorrow and the art that followed, making us suspicious of his intentions, only to have him die for love. The lifeless/doll-like framing given to Luka, vulnerable and cornered by flashing lights, only to have him be the cruelest/most calculating one (that we know so far). The rebellious, rowdy, willing to do anything to survive framing given to Till, only to have his fighting spirit completely break and willingly waiting to die by Ivan’s hands. The naive, complacent and passive image given to Mizi, only to have her snap, beat the shit out of Luka and join the rebellion –and with how things are going (and her being the protagonist) I wouldn’t be surprised if she, and not Hyuna (the one who was framed as the most strong and reliable, giving us a false sense of security going into R6), is who will have to try and rescue Till (and Luka???).
There are still a ton of things that keep me awake at night about R6 –my favorite character dying aside. I could talk about it forever, but I’ll leave it here. 
Feel free to share your theories, delusions, interpretations or any detail I might have missed with me. God knows we need group therapy after this as the cute chibi keychains can only heal us so far. Thanks for reading my rambles if you made it this far. :’)
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tiannasfanfic · 1 year
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Conviction
Eddie Munson x Reader (Angst)
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| Masterlist | AO3 Link |
Summary: Life takes an unexpected turn when a one time fling with your best friend leads to an unplanned pregnancy. Will years of friendship be enough to build a solid marriage off of...or are you destined for heartbreak due to a wandering eye like the town rumor mill predicts?
Rating: Explicit 18+
Author Note: Afab Reader, no pronouns used. Angst with a happy ending.
CW: Town gossip; bullying; unplanned pregnancy (no details); marriage; mentions of cheating; mentions of alcohol use; smut (p in v, fingering, kissing, dirty talk); consensual role play of a non-con situation.
Word Count: 8,332
Eddie Munson Taglist: @eddie-swhore
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con·vic·tion - noun: a firmly held belief or opinion.
If you were to ask the people in Hawkins, life for you and Eddie Munson turned out exactly how they expected.
Eddie was branded an outcast while he was a child thanks to his dad. Edward Munson Sr had long been known in Hawkins as a hard-working criminal. Your car was stolen? The cops always checked out Munson’s place first. While no one blamed Eddie for his father’s mistakes, no one really wanted their kids to be around the son of a no-good common criminal either. It honestly surprised no one when Ed was finally put away for a long time due to car theft, which led to his parental rights being transferred to Wayne.
But despite Eddie going into his uncle’s care, the unfair reputation he’d gained during childhood followed along after him. He wasn’t a bad kid, by any means, nor did he get in much trouble. But once the town thinks of someone a certain way, it’s hard for them to break free of that. And, by this point, he’d taken a liking to heavy metal and playing the guitar, which further cemented his outcast status in their minds. Then his interest in fantasy led him to D&D, which led to the rumors of Satan worshiping. He evolved from being seen as just a mere outcast into a full-blown freak by the time he hit high school.
You, on the other hand, managed to fly under the towns radar for quite some time. While the two of you met the year before middle school and became fast friends, people only began to notice how your close friendship was during sophomore year. That’s when a spotlight finally found its way over to you. The rumor mill went absolutely crazy. Even though you weren’t dating Eddie, and this was a known fact, that didn’t really matter to anyone. You got labeled as his and the bullying began almost immediately.
After a while, Eddie tried to save you by severing the friendship, and made a big production of it in the cafeteria, much to your horror. But the damage had already been done. The teasing only got worse when people thought he’d grown tired of you. You weren’t even good enough for the freak, they said. It ended up being a miserable two months for both of you before you finally reconciled your friendship. Fortunately, the whole thing brought you two even closer together afterwards.
After that, the town knew exactly what was going to happen to you two. They predicted Eddie would have you knocked up before senior year and that you’d drop out of school. They seemed split on what would happen after that though. Some said Eddie would run off right away and leave you a single mom. Others said he would stay but would cheat and run off on you later, leaving you a single mom. They were quite surprised when you graduated high school without a baby in tow.
Since people in town didn’t expect Eddie to amount to anything, it surprised no one when he had to repeat his senior year twice. They felt vindicated in their beliefs when it was rumored Eddie was dealing drugs. The murder charges were a bit of a surprise, but nothing actually changed in the way the town thought of him once he was absolved of those. Eddie was still an outcast and a freak, just not one that was wanted for murder.
But that Spring Break led to everything changing between the two of you.
Once his name was in the clear and he had graduated, Eddie’s new group of friends combined with his old ones to throw him a party to celebrate. Everyone was able to cut loose and relax at Steve Harrington’s huge house, so a fun time was had by all. Sometime during the night, feeling both happy and a bit on the horny side, you made a drunken pass at Eddie. His response was favorable, which led to a romp in the back of his van.
It was an impulsive thing, nothing that had been planned or talked about or even thought about beforehand. Neither of you had really spoke about it afterwards, which you took as an unspoken agreement. It was a onetime thing, a moment of physical connection fueled by alcohol and a much-needed reminder that you both made it out of everything alive.
Three weeks later, a little white stick turned blue.
Once the shock wore off after a few days, Eddie became determined to do the right thing. He asked you to marry him. Not knowing what else to do, but knowing he was a good man and you could do much worse, you said yes.
That first eight months of your relationship was a whirlwind. Between planning and executing a small courthouse wedding, getting ready for the baby, and the pregnancy itself, you two didn’t get the opportunity to breathe much less get to enjoy each other’s company and feel each other out as a couple.
Once the baby was born, a baby boy you two named Eddie Wayne, life only got crazier.
Now that the expenses for a baby were added into the budget, money got tight with there only being one income in the house. Childcare was too expensive to justify you working, so Eddie picked up as much extra work as he could, working even longer hours at the garage where he was a mechanic. It was the only way to keep up with bills, but this meant he was away from home even more, sometimes not getting home until well after you and Eddie Wayne were already asleep.
And that was how it quietly went for almost two years. You kept up with everything in the house and the baby, and Eddie brought home the paycheck. It was a routine you both fell into, barely seeing and talking to each other except in passing, even on his rare days off. While you missed your best friend and the friendship you had before, you thought this was just how life went for new parents.
But then the people in town started to notice how often Eddie wasn’t at the house. People saw his van parked up at the garage until all hours. People noticed how you two were rarely seen together anymore.
And so, the rumor mill started up again.
Your relationship was on the rocks, they said. You two had grown apart, they said. You both were too young, they said. It was only a matter of time before this happened, they said.
You did your best to ignore it, like you always did.
But as the months went on though, you noticed the random looks you normally got from strangers became increasingly sympathetic looking. You noticed people whispering around you more. Then, oddly, people actually began approaching you to speak with you. It wasn’t idle chitchat, like you do when you bump into someone, but instead were asking you specific questions about how you were and how life was going. They seemed to be checking in on you with genuine concern, though that was a bit baffling since no one had bothered to care about you before now. You kept the interactions polite but couldn’t help wonder what their ulterior motive was.
It wasn’t long before you finally heard the big rumor that was prompting such a response from people.
Eddie was cheating on you.
They said that’s really why he was up at the garage so late, said it was the only place he could get away with it since you were always home. They said he actually had several girlfriends on the side, and never had to be with the same one twice in one week. And his poor wife, they said. Stuck at home with her head in the sand, blissfully ignorant to her husband’s nightly activities.
It angered you at first. Not what they were saying, but why they were saying it. It struck you as petty and juvenile. You couldn’t help but wonder if they had anything better to do, if their lives were really so dull that they had to focus on yours instead. Despite the way you two ended up together, you doubted Eddie would actually cheat on you. Eddie Munson was many things, but a cheat in any capacity had never been among them. The town was always wrong about him before, and they were definitely wrong about this.
But as the weeks went on, the rumors persisted and you heard them more, it began to gnaw at you. And, once the shred of doubt was planted in your mind, it steadily grew into suspicion and paranoia. You really didn’t want to believe it, but now you had a little voice in your head asking you, what if? It’s not like you were up at the garage to really know what was going on. And why would they be saying it so much if it wasn’t true, if someone hadn’t seen something for sure? The more time that passed, the more it drove you crazy and the more the very idea began to hurt.
You began to really pay attention and notice things after that. Whenever you tried to engage Eddie in conversation, his responses were always short and to the point. He didn’t talk about his day and didn’t really ask about yours except for things relating to Eddie Wayne. While there may have been distance between you two, Eddie never stopped doting on his son.
And the distance was clear now that you really thought about it. There wasn’t even that much affection between you two. He barely touched you and sex was a rarity. Often weeks would pass before one of you would initiate it, and, even then, it seemed halfhearted and tired. It felt more like a routine rather than something either of you really wanted to do. Even the kiss he gave you before leaving every morning was brief and chaste, given without hardly a glance as he did it.
One thing piled up on top of the other in your brain until one afternoon when the gnawing paranoia finally bit down and made you snap to attention. It wasn’t anything big or out of the ordinary that caused it. It was a Saturday afternoon and Eddie called you to let you know he’d be staying at work well past closing. He didn’t give specifics, just that he needed to get some things finished and that you shouldn’t wait up for him.
This kind of thing happened all the time, but you decided you couldn’t take the suspicion any longer. It felt more like you were more roommates than spouses by this point, and it was eating away at you. You had to find out if the rumors were true.
You knew getting into the garage to surprise him wouldn’t be hard. A long time ago, Eddie had proven himself trustworthy enough for the owner to give him his own key to the place, as well as a spare to keep at home. While Eddie always had his key with him, you knew where the spare was since you’ve had to take it up there to Eddie a couple times when he accidentally locked his keys inside the building. With that in hand, you’d have no problem getting in after closing without having to give Eddie a heads up.
But, at the same time, your gut was telling you to be cautious and think this through carefully. A large part of you was still convinced your husband wouldn’t betray you like that. He had been your best friend for years and had never tried to deliberately hurt you before. You didn’t want to just barge in and interrupt your husband at his job with accusations flying when all you had to go on was the town gossip. You wanted to have an actual excuse for going up there if this all turned out to be nothing.
Since Eddie Wayne was a little over 18 months old at this point, Uncle Wayne had been offering to keep him overnight sometime so you and Eddie could have an evening alone together. He was overjoyed when you called to finally take him up on that offer and he picked up his grandson for a sleepover shortly afterwards.
Once your son was off with his grandpa, you got a quick dinner made. It wasn’t anything fancy, just spaghetti with a small splurge of meatballs, but it was something cheap and easy that you and Eddie both loved. You made two lunch containers of it, then stored the rest of the leftovers away in the fridge. You packed up both lunch containers, some silverware, and napkins into a paper sack, and then headed up to the garage where Eddie worked.
On your way there, the nerves started building. You were nauseous with them by the time you pulled into the parking lot. You identified Eddie’s van right away, but as you got out of your car, you realized there was no way to tell if he was alone before you went inside. The parking lot was half full of vehicles, and you had no way of knowing which ones were there to be worked on, or if any of them belonged to a late-night visitor.
Taking a deep breath, you tried to prepare yourself for anything as best you could and let yourself into the front door.
There was no bell overhead to announce your presence as you walked inside, so your arrival was thankfully quiet. It wouldn’t have really mattered had there been a bell though, you could hear music drifting into the reception area from an open door behind the counter that led to the garage area proper. You could hear a song from Megadeth’s latest album drifting into the room.
Following the sound of the music, you stepped through the door out into the garage. You couldn’t see much since most of the bays had a vehicle in it and it was dark The only light you could see was coming from the far end of the building, near the back wall by the office.
You carefully made your way through the semi dark garage, being careful not to trip on any stray hoses or tools. As you got closer to the light and music, you still couldn’t see anything thanks to a few stacks of tires and a large, upright toolbox. But once you stepped around those though, you got a full, unobstructed view of the very last vehicle bay.
And what you saw made you stop in your tracks.
There was a Jeep was parked in that last bay, with its hood up and a light clamped onto it. Eddie was bent over under the hood at an awkward angle, trying not to get in his own light and stretched out as if trying to reach something at the very back. It was really hot here at the back of the garage, so Eddie had the top half of his coveralls down around his waist. He’d also shed the wife beater he normally wore under the coveralls, leaving him completely shirtless. His skin had a heavy sheen of sweat on it, and he was flushed from being under the hot work light. He’d gotten grease and dirt on his back from being under the Jeep, but rather than make him look dirty, the grime seemed to contour and enhance the lean muscle lines of his back.
Your jaw dropped a little, eyes widening.
Eddie stood up then and turned towards a wheeled cart he had next to him at the front of the Jeep, scowling at the wrench he was holding. Oblivious to the fact he was being watched, he started rooting through the various sized sockets on the cart, his brow furrowed slightly as he compared the sizes to the one he had on the wrench originally. The tip of his tongue was slightly poking out from one corner of his mouth, which is how you could tell when Eddie was really concentrating.
Your breath caught in your throat as you took him in from the front.
His hair was pulled back in a chaotic mess of a bun, his black bandana rolled up and wrapped around his forehead to keep sweat out of his eyes. Drops of sweat trailed down Eddie’s chest and stomach and your eyes couldn’t help but follow one as it rolled down the center of his abdomen. The top half of his coveralls were weighing down the bottom half, making them sag a bit in the front. This pulled them down just enough to display the front of his hips, the trim V cut of his lower abdomen on full display and perfectly framing the start of a dark happy trail that disappeared down into his front of pants.
In all of the chaos and stress of life, the turmoil of being new parents and newlyweds simultaneously, and all of the major change’s life had thrown at you two in such a short amount of time…
You had forgotten exactly how fucking gorgeous your husband is.
All you could do was stand there and gawk at him. The reason for your visit not entirely forgotten, but, for the moment, at the very back of your mind. It wouldn’t hurt to keep letting him work so you could admire the view for a little longer.
Eddie finally gave up trying to find the socket he was looking for on the cart and turned towards the upright toolbox. Halfway to it, he finally looked up to see you standing next to it. He screamed in surprise, dropping the wrench and socket he was holding as he jumped backwards. This in turn scared the hell out of you, making you scream and jump in surprise yourself.
Thankfully, you did not drop the food.
The two of you stared at each other for a moment, wide eyed and breathing heavy after the jump scare you just gave each other.
And then, quite suddenly and unexpected, the distance you had been feeling between you two disappeared.
You both burst into laughing fits at exactly the same moment. It was that deep, soul cleansing laughter that’s sometimes needed just as much as a good cry. Eddie nearly doubled over, body shaking as he tried to get control of it. You felt your stress and anxiety melt away as tears sprang from your eyes.
As your tension and worry eased, a forgotten memory flashed through your mind from your senior year, which had been Eddie’s first. It was right after Hellfire let out and, since you didn’t have a car at the time, you had hurried to get home before it started raining. Unfortunately, after a brief trip to the restroom, you got outside only to discover it was pouring and everyone, but Eddie had already left. When you went back inside to ask him for a ride, you scared the hell out of each other then laughed about it, much like this.
Presently, Eddie scooped up the wrench he dropped, then went back to the cart to turn off his music. Then he turned to you.
“Jesus Christ, Princess!” he said, his voice filled with humor, and then he dramatically started clutching at his chest. “You could’ve given me a heart attack!”
“I’m so sorry, babe,” you said, giggling at his theatrics as you wiped tears from your eyes. “I wasn’t trying to kill you, I swear.”
His eyes looked down near your feet, then behind you, brow slightly furrowing in confusion.
“Where’s our little man?” he asked, and you realized he was looking for Eddie Wayne’s car seat or stroller.
“With his grandpa for the night,” you smiled at Eddie, then danced a little in place. “I’ve got the whole evening to myself.”
“Yeah?” he smiled at you softly as he finally made his way over to the toolbox, resuming his search for the correct sized socket. “Then what’s a beautiful girl like you doing messing around in a filthy place like this?”
Even now after all these years of knowing Eddie, whenever he was relaxed enough to fall into his old flirtatious demeanor with you, it still made your heart race just as much as it did back in school.
You briefly held up the paper bag you were holding and gave it just enough of a shake to make the silverware inside rattle around.
“I was just stopping by with some food for my amazing husband so we could have dinner together,” you explained, then a playful smile came to your face. “But then when I saw you, I couldn’t help but get distracted and forget my manners.”
You don’t know why you chose that wording in particular. It just popped into your head and seemed like a fun thing to say in light of how he just caught you staring at him like some love-struck teenager.
The irony of it wasn’t lost on you though. Here you were, down at your husband’s work for the sole purpose of seeing if he was cheating on you, but now here you were flirting with him as if he were just some random hot guy you were thirsting after rather than your actual husband.
While this wasn’t like any of the scenarios you had pictured in your head while on the drive over, you weren’t complaining. Scaring each other and the laughter that followed had put you in a relaxed, easygoing state. It was the perfect mood to put you in the mindset to flirt a little heavy handedly with Eddie.
His head lifted a little so he could look up at you, one brow raised in curiosity. He took you in for a moment, as if trying to figure out what your game here was. But then a playful glimmer came to his eyes that you hadn’t seen in a while.
He stood up straight, dropping the wrench he was holding into the open drawer of the toolbox with a clatter.
“Can’t say I was expecting anyone to come by tonight,” he said, dusting his hands off as he looked you over with an intense gaze that made your cheeks flush. “But you’re more than welcome to wait around in the office, see if he turns up. I’ll get washed up, then come keep you company.”
With a wink, Eddie began to head for the sink at in the corner of the garage.
You couldn’t help but blush slightly, then made your way into the office.
The small room was cramped and served as the office and break room. It contained a ratty couch against one wall with a coffee table in front of it, a table against the opposite wall that held a microwave and coffee maker, a desk near the window at the back of the room, and a full-sized refrigerator in the corner. There wasn’t much on the desk aside from extra office supplies but considering what Eddie has said about the owner rarely coming in, that wasn’t surprising.
Forgetting about the flirty banter since you thought that was over with for the night, you started to get dinner laid out for the two of you. You knew it would take Eddie awhile to get his hands and arms scrubbed clean like it always did, and that would give you plenty of time to get everything ready. After warming up the food and finding two sodas in the fridge, you arranged everything on the coffee table so that you two could sit on the couch together while you ate.
Right as you finished setting out the silverware, you heard the office door click shut and the lock twist into place. Smiling, you stood up and turned, your mouth opening in preparation to tease him about how long it always takes him to clean up. Before any words could leave your mouth though, Eddie’s lips crashed into yours in a deep, hungry kiss.
It felt like he was trying to devour you whole, his tongue sliding into your mouth to taste you before you had the chance to react. You gasped in surprise as his arms wrapped around you and he pulled you tightly to him. Once the surprise wore off though, your response was just as eager, lips moving with his to make the kiss even more intense. Your arms went around his neck, and you pulled him in closer. You softly bit his tongue and Eddie groaned into your mouth, his hips pushing forward against yours. Already you could feel him getting hard in his coveralls.
Since he responded to your choice of words so well, you decided to keep the little game going. You slid your hand up from the back of his neck into his hair and grasped a handful of it. Gently tugging, you used it to pull his head back away from you. He groaned as his lips left yours, letting his head move easily along with the pull.
“I told you I’m a married woman,” you said softly, lips inches from his. “What would my husband think if he were to walk through that door right now?”
It seemed like Eddie was enjoying the game now as much as you were. A tremble went through his body, and one hand slid down from your back to your ass, taking it in a firm hold. He pulled your hips even more firmly against his. Your grip loosened in his hair, and he tilted his head down to look into your eyes.
“Door’s locked up tight, Princess,” he said, his voice low and husky, with a slightly threatening tone woven in. “And no one’s getting through. It’s just you and me now.”
Holding onto you so you wouldn’t trip, Eddie started to walk you backwards. You gave no resistance, letting him lead you until you came to a stop against the edge of the desk. Your bodies were jostled a bit at the impact, your legs inadvertently opening into a wider stance. Eddie claimed the newly empty space by quickly stepping forward to stand between your legs. The firm press of his body against yours made you start to teeter backwards, but his arms squeezed your body tightly to his own, keeping you upright so didn’t fall back onto the desk quite yet.
“Please,” you whimpered, playing up the role of a helpless damsel by letting your head fall back, which only made Eddie bury his face in your neck. “My heart belongs only to him!”
The way you two were standing against the desk put him just at the right angle to grind himself against your entrance. Even through your jeans and his bulky coveralls, you could now feel exactly how much Eddie was liking this little role play with you. His cock was close to rock hard. The feeling of him pressed against you made you bite your lip, and you found yourself suddenly have to swallow a moan as he rolled his hips into yours with purpose. He had caused the seam of your jeans to bear down on your clit with just the right amount of pressure.
Your legs jerked a little on either side of Eddie as he did it again, knees quivering as little bursts of electricity traveled through your body from the contact. He was quick to respond, stooping down quickly to pick you up by the backs of your thighs and set you up on the very edge of the desk.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he said, his voice rumbly and low as the tip of his tongue flicked out over the skin on the side of your neck as if he were tasting you. “If it’s only your heart that belongs to him, then your body is all mine for the taking.”
Eddie grazed his teeth on your neck, making you gasp and grip your fingers into his hair again. Falling further into the role, you slipped your other hand between your bodies to rest your palm flat against his chest in a playful attempt to push him away. At this point, Eddie had a firm grip on you and was steadily rocking his hips into yours, grinding his hardness into you over your clothes.
You tried again to push him away again, this time adding just a little bit more force into it. As you did that, your fingers tightened down again in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you like before.
This time, Eddie wasn’t having it.
He pulled away from you of his own accord, but only just enough that he could grab ahold of your wrists, one in each hand. Keeping a tight hold on you, he then threw you backwards onto the desk, holding your hands above your head as he leaned down over you. You cried out in surprise as you landed. With your ass now hanging halfway off the edge of the desk, the sudden movement of your body caused your legs to lift as your body rocked backwards. You took advantage of this by hooking them around Eddie’s hips, trapping him against you as much as you were trapped against him. He grinned down at you, and you bit your lip to keep from grinning back.
After shifting your wrists so he could hold them in one hand, Eddie ran the tips of fingers all the way down your arm until he reached your chest. He softly squeezed one of your tits, playing with it for a moment, before continuing further down between your bodies, not stopping until he reached the front of your pants. Keeping eye contact with you, he slowly started working the buttons of your jeans open one handed.
“That’s it now, be a good girl and just lay back for me,” he cooed down at you, the tone of his voice almost sinful the way it turned you on. “Lay back and I’ll have you screaming my name soon enough.”
As the last button on your jeans came open, you felt his hand slide into the opening of the denim, fingers caressing the fabric of your underwear.
You let your eyes drift open more, looking up at him and finally taking in his full expression. Eddie’s face was a mask of lust, his dilated eyes intent as he gazed down at you.
You could tell he was close to letting go. That fact alone was enough to make you even more excited. Your sex life with Eddie had never really been that wild, if you were being honest. There hadn’t been too many times that he had really let go of himself while being intimate with you. The first time in his van, the first time after giving birth once you’d healed, and a couple of random times after Eddie had gone out for a few drinks with the guys. You enjoyed the hell out of it every single time and only wished it happened more often.
This was definitely an opportunity you couldn’t pass up.
Jutting your chin out, you lifted your head up in a prideful way as you playfully glared into his eyes.
“Do what you will to me,” you said with a defiant tone. “But the only name I’ll be screaming tonight is Eddie’s.”
The grin that spread across Eddie’s face at that made your heart nearly stop.
“Oh sweetheart,” he said, then leaned down so his lips were just an inch from yours. “I’m fully counting on that.”
You weren’t given the chance to reply.
Eddie brought his lips down on yours, the kiss every bit as deep and intense as before. There was no pause this time before you were returning it, your mouth eagerly opening for his. You captured his bottom lip in your teeth, not biting hard enough to draw blood but more to make sure you had his full attention.
But you didn’t have to worry about that. As your teeth were sinking into Eddie’s lip, two of his fingers were slipping past your underwear to pull them aside. His grunt at the feeling of your bite was met by a soft moan from you as he ran his fingers through your folds and began teasing your entrance.
“Always so wet for me,” he muttered against your lips, sounding more like he was talking to himself.
Any reply to you could have given would’ve been lost on your tongue as Eddie slid his middle finger into you. It met no resistance, your wetness easily letting him slide in up to the third knuckle. Since you were already so worked up, he didn’t have to build up to it before starting to finger you at a steady pace. Your eyes closed as you moaned, head tilting back to give him access once again to your neck. He eagerly took advantage of this, his lips coming down to start kissing and sucking on the exposed skin. You could tell just from the pressure that he was deliberately marking you up.
Then, as he licked across the front of your throat to start making his way to the other side of your neck, he stopped the motions of his hand for just a second in order to sink a second finger into you.
You gasped, moaning loudly as your legs tightened around him to hold yourself in that position. He moved his fingers at the same steady pace, his lips sucking at this side of your neck now to leave marks that would match the ones now on the other side.
Being with Eddie as infrequently as you were made it was easy to forget just how good in bed he was. Even the halfhearted and tired sex that was the normal with him was far better than anyone else you’d been with. It wasn’t until this very moment as he curled his fingers inside you that you realized just how pent up you’d been. Getting yourself off for the last few weeks hadn’t cut it as much as you’d thought.
Thanks to the slow pace he had to keep due to the confines of your jeans, the heel of his hand was rubbing against your clit with every inward thrust of his fingers. It didn’t take long before your orgasm built, and you were about to crest its edge.
Right when your inner walls started to tighten around his fingers, Eddie ripped his hand out of your jeans and pulled himself completely away from you. You gasped, clenching around nothing, and aching from the denied orgasm.
“E-Eddie, please,” you gasped, near tears as your body lay trembling on the desk.
“M’sorry, I need you,” he panted, taking ahold of the waist band of your jeans. “Need to feel you clenching around me. Been way too long.”
Eddie quickly pulled your pants and underwear down your legs at the same time. Your shoes slipped off easily when he pulled them off, and the entire bundle was quickly discarded to the office floor. He stepped forward to stand between your legs again, his warm hands caressing your now bare thighs.
A soft sigh left your lips as he touched you, then you watched as he took one hand away to start working himself free of the coveralls. Eddie ended up struggling with them for a moment, having to really work to get one more button undone before he was finally able to push them down past his ass. You leaned up a bit on your forearms, watching as his boxers went next and his hard cock sprang free to lay along your slit.
You couldn’t help but shiver at the feeling, still sensitive from being so close to orgasm. He gave two slow rolls of his hips, dragging the length of his cock across your clit and electing a high-pitched cry from you. Eddie grasped the base of his cock then and tapped the leaking tip on your clit, making you jump slightly, before he slowly began dragging the head through your wet folds. You whimpered, your hips arching up off the desk towards him. He pushed you back down with one hand while he lined himself up with the other. With a slow, firm movement of his hips, Eddie’s hard length began to slide into your cunt.
A loud cry of pleasure left you as your head thumped back on the desk. Since he took his time, you could feel every inch of him. He paused halfway, shifting his stance, and lifting one of your legs higher around his torso before pushing in the rest of the way. You both groaned deeply at the feeling of him bottoming out. It had indeed been too long, your body had to adjust to him again. Luckily, it only took a moment, and as soon as Eddie felt you begin to relax, he began to move.
He started out with slow, but deep, thrusts, dragging his cock through your throbbing heat. You moaned, panting as you clutched at the opposite edge of the desk just above your head. Forcing yourself to keep your eyes open, you watched him as he stared open mouthed at where your bodies met, transfixed by the sight of his cock disappearing into your cunt.
“Fuck, you’re so hot,” he moaned suddenly, a shudder going through his body as he spoke. “S-so fucking hot. H-How’d I get so lucky?”
Eddie paused briefly to shift his stance and to move your leg up higher, over his shoulder even. Gripping your hips with both hands, he began thrusting with renewed purpose. This new angle had his cock hitting even deeper than before. You gasped as the head rubbed against your most sensitive places, including that one rough, spongy area that always made your toes curl.
“Fuck, God, Eddie, right there!” you screamed, already at the edge again. “I-I’m gonna cum!”
Not stopping this time, Eddie’s thrusting became faster, more frantic. One hand moved from your hip to slide between you, and he started rubbing circles around your clit with his thumb. You moaned a string of curses, feeling yourself starting to clench around his cock.
“J-Jesus, that’s it,” Eddie panted, leaning over so he had one hand resting flat on the desk next to your head, the other rubbing your clit faster. “Fuck! Cum for me, squeeze my cock with that tight cunt of yours.”
That was all it took to send you careening over the edge. You threw your head back and screamed as your orgasm washed over you, your cunt clamping down around him just as he wanted. Eddie wasn’t far behind, his thrusting growing erratic before he was cussing and groaning your name. With how sensitive you were, you swore you could feel his cock pulsing, then spurting as he came, painting your insides with his full load.
Eddie tried to fuck you both through your orgasms, but he had gotten too sensitive. It really had been too long. After a soft gasp that sounded close to a yelp, his motions stilled. Still buried deep inside you, his body trembled just as much as yours did as you both came down from your highs.
Once he had caught his breath, he moved to gently lower your leg from his shoulder to around his waist but stayed inside you. Leaning over, he bent down to you, one hand softly cupping the side of your face as he kissed you. The kiss was warm, tender; a loving contrast to the primal fucking that just occurred. He kissed you a few more times before sliding out of you and helping you up.
You both were giggling as you got dressed, grinning like idiots at each other and blushing. It was as if you were kids again and had just gotten away with doing something very bad. Which, technically, you did, you supposed. After all, having sex on the boss’s desk probably wasn’t looked highly upon, no matter the circumstances.
With appetites worked up, you both finally dug into dinner, with Eddie dramatically moaning in pleasure at the first few bites before you fell into an easy conversation. Eddie asked what you and Eddie Wayne got up to that day. You told him all about everything your son did, then he surprised you by asking specifically how your day was. He surprised you again when you asked Eddie about his day, and he actually started talking about it. That was a first. You had to ask a few questions here and there when he used a term you didn’t understand, but it was all pretty interesting.
Suddenly, in the middle of a story, Eddie broke himself off and smiled sheepishly at you.
“Sorry, Princess,” he said, looking like he was afraid you might be annoyed. “I know you don’t understand most of this. That’s why I try not to talk much about work.”
You blinked a few times in surprise, then shook your head.
“No, Eddie,” you said, looking at him warmly. “I love hearing about your day. If I don’t get something, I’ll ask about it if I’m curious enough.”
Relief came over Eddie’s features and he leaned over to give you a soft kiss.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence then as you ate. But that gave your brain the opportunity to go back to the original reason for your visit. Once it was back at the forefront of your mind, it began to gnaw at you once again, even in your post sex bliss.
Knowing this wouldn’t go away on its own, you decided it was time to just address it directly. The town could say what they wanted and didn’t need to know your business, but the air needed to be clear between the two of you, at least.
“So, I’ve been hearing a new rumor about you around town,” you said, keeping the tone of your voice playful, just like any other time you’ve filled him in on the latest gossip about yourselves. “And it’s a really juicy one this time, too.”
“Yeah?” he said, quirking a brow at you as he chewed a bite of food. “Do tell.”
You felt your nerves come up but didn’t let it show. Instead, you looked around conspiratorially and leaned closer to Eddie. Playing along, Eddie leaned closer to you too, tilting his ear towards you to listen. You cupped his ear with one hand, as if trying to keep a secret
“Word around the campfire,” you whispered, pausing for dramatic effect. “Is that you’re fucking around on me.”
Eddie snort laughed so hard he ended up choking on his own spit. As he lapsed into a coughing fit and you pounded him on the back, you couldn’t help but feel relieved already just based on his reaction.
“Those old bats, I swear,” he finally said, gasping for air as he wiped the tears from coughing off his cheeks. “I don’t have the energy to see you nearly as much as I’d like, much less the time to work in a side piece.” He paused to take a bite and continued on as he chewed. “When do they think I have the time? When I’m able to sleep? No thanks. I like what little sleep I do get.”
It was so casual the way Eddie spoke, not even thinking about what he was saying. There was no filter behind those words, nothing but the straight, stream of conscious Thoughts by Eddie. And so, it hit you straight in the heart, making it skip around a few times.
“That’s a very good point,” you said, unable to stop yourself from chuckling at yourself for even entertaining the idea seriously.
Eddie chuckled, then looked over at you with a grin.
“They say the same thing about you, you know,” he said, then took another bite as he watched for your reaction.
Now it was your turn to choke, though you choked on your food, and Eddie pounded you on the back until you got through it.
“For real?” you asked once the coughing fit was over. “When did those start?”
“Not too long after the wedding,” he replied, grabbing your soda to hand it to you. “Apparently, you’ve been fucking anyone they see come around the house, including the mailman, since day one.”
Your mouth dropped open in shock. That was a new one on you. It certainly explained some of the flat glares and head shakes you’d occasionally gotten since you two got married. You never paid much attention to them when it happened, thinking it was about something stupid.
As it turns out, you were right.
“As if I’d really cheat on the guy I’ve been crushing on since the sixth grade,” you scoffed, then took a drink of your soda. “There would be no sense in it. Besides that, pretty much like you said, when would I have the ti-“
“Wait, what?”
You looked over at Eddie to find him staring at you with a shocked expression and his fork halfway to his mouth.
“What?” you asked, not sure what he was asking about.
Eddie tossed the fork into his bowl, set it on the table and turned to you.
“We’ve been married for,” he said, then stopped to think for a moment. “Just over two years now and this is the first I’m hearing about you having a crush on me?”
You blinked at him in surprise, your eyebrows going up.
“I didn’t figure it mattered once we were married,” you said, shrugging. “We’re together now, so I didn’t think it needed to be said.”
The expression of shock on Eddie’s face would’ve been funny had you not known it was completely genuine.
“Princess, that would’ve been really helpful to know a long time ago,” he said, the tone of his voice incredulous and slightly shaky. “I’ve spent these past two years worried about if I really made you happy. I honestly keep wondering if you really want to be with me, or if you only agreed to marrying me because you didn’t want the stigma of being a single mom on top of being the town freak’s whore.”
There was no trace of cruelty in his voice since Eddie wasn’t calling you that name to be mean. That was something people started calling you near the end of junior year. By senior year, it had stuck, and you got called it every day until graduation. Some of the old bullies still liked to shout it at you when they saw you out. It was part of the reason why you didn’t like to leave the house most days unless you absolutely had to for errands.
“Admittedly, that thought did cross my mind,” you said, then sat your own bowl on the table to turn to him. “But I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t really want to marry you, baby or no. If you were the type of man that would’ve made me miserable, I’d still be at my parents’ house.”
The smile that came to Eddie’s face then could’ve lit up the entire garage. One of his hands came up to softly stroke the side of your face as he gazed at you fondly.
“And I wouldn’t have asked you to marry me if I didn’t truly want to,” he said. “Baby or no.”
You moved one hand to rest it on his leg, giving it a soft squeeze, as he leaned in to kiss you.
As the kiss gradually started to ramp up from loving to more intense, Eddie pulled away slightly, looking at you with a worried expression.
“Does this mean I can touch you more?” he asked, sounding unsure of himself suddenly as he started to ramble. “I thought you didn’t really want me to, so I never do, but, god, it’s all I’ve wanted to do since ninth grade, and I want to so much it drives me fucking crazy sometimes.”
Your cheeks blushed a bright pink at Eddie’s admission. It was a good feeling knowing he desired you as much as you did him, and your heart soared knowing he felt as deeply for you too. This hadn’t been a marriage of convenience for either of you, after all.
Taking his face in both of your hands, you pulled him in for a soft kiss, pulling back at the end to gaze into his eyes.
“Baby, you’ve always been able touch me,” you said softly. “Whenever you want and in whatever way you want.”
A grin spread across Eddie’s face, the glint you saw out in the garage coming back to his eyes. His hands found their way up to your shoulders and he pushed you onto your back on the couch. Climbing on top of you less than a second later, he laid himself between your legs, his lips finding their way to yours once again.
Like always, the town rumors about Eddie had turned out to be nothing more than falsehoods thanks to bored rumor mongering. There was absolutely nothing wrong with your marriage apart from the fact neither of you had properly communicating your needs and desires. And that was something both of you recognized now. The two of you made a vow to each other that very night, right there on his boss’s couch, promising to be more open with your feelings and thoughts.
And, as it turns out, you were given the opportunity to put those newfound communication skills to the test soon enough. When you left the garage that night, you left with more than just hearts in your eyes and very sore legs.
Just over three weeks later, another little white stick turned blue.
Oh, how the rumor mill had a field day with that one.
4K notes · View notes
badmuni · 1 year
Text
enhypen x-ray 🔍
★ . ꜝꜞ ᳝ ࣪ ( the way they communicate with their s/o ) ☁️ׂ ʬʬ
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₍⁠₍ 김선우 ₎⁠₎ sunoo
“how was your day?” “tell me everything.”
sunoo is incredibly interested and wants to know everything about his s/o's life, even the bad outcomes.
“did you have dinner already?” “please don't skip any meals !”
sunoo is constantly concerned with their wellbeing and health. he pays attention to these details since he is aware that some people are careless with food and he doesn't want his partner to be.
“you can count on me, baby. i love you. i love you so much i can't even breath”
he likes to show his affection for them sometimes even sounding a little dramatic, but that's just how he want it to be. sunoo enjoys expressing his emotions, which usually results in him sending them lengthy (romantic) texts. or placing calls...
₍⁠₍ 西村力 ₎⁠₎ ni-ki
“did you miss me? don't lie, i know you missed me.”
riki is cute and provocative all at once, and he enjoys receiving special treatment from his lover. he just acts like that every time he visits them.
“i wanna go out with you again, baby.”
riki enjoys spending time with his s/o. he likes taking them on adventures and to new places because it makes him the happiest. also, because he likes adrenaline (way too much).
“i bought something to you... it's surprise so i'm not going to reveal what it is, but try to guess it.”
riki (often) spends his money buying things to his s/o. sometimes a plushie or maybe a T-shirt that says “i love my boyfriend” with a lil pic of him in it (thats so corny lol). or sometimes a jewelry, rings, bracelets, necklaces. he totally spoils his s/o in his own way.
₍⁠₍ 심재윤 ₎⁠₎ jake
“darling, do you think this looks good?”
always asking his s/o opinions on things, doesn't really matter the topic, jake will wants to hear their thoughts on it because he has a lot of faith in their taste.
“i woke up, tidied up the room because yk jay slaves me, so i went out to work, then i came home, but it was too late so i went to dinner [...]”
jake is very open with his s/o, telling them everything, since he thinks it's cool to do so. as he appreciates having a strong link with them, he believes that doing this brings them even closer together.
“BABY YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT JUST HAPPENED”
he just CAN'T be privy to a gossip; he'll quickly relay it to his partner. as soon as he knows something, he just goes there and tells them about it. jake just can't keep secrets from his partner...
₍⁠₍ 양정원 ₎⁠₎ jungwon
“i dreamed about you last night... it was pretty clingy but i like it”
jungwon thinks about his s/o constantly, even when he's sleeping... :( and he makes clear they are aware about it.
“how are you feeling today, darling?”
wonnie is very sensitive to the feelings of his s/o and appreciates that they keep him informed of their concerns and feelings throughout the day.
“better you be careful, i'm going to kidnap you tonight😼”
unplanned little walks through the city at night is something wonnie enjoys doing with his lover in order to easy his mind and feel peaceful.
₍⁠₍ 이희승 ₎⁠₎ heeseung
“i wish you were here...”
many times, as an introvert, heeseung just wants to escape from social events. but tbh, he thinks that if his s/o were around, the whole experience would be better for him.
“i was counting the minutes and seconds to see you”
heeseung is sweet most of the time, and plus, he's very good using words. he also can't just get away from someone he loves so much for too long or he starts to get crazy.
“oh- you want water, baby? don't worry, i got you!”
man simply don't miss a single opportunity to please his partner or just do things for them. they want or need something? heeseung is there doing for them.
₍⁠₍ 박성훈 ₎⁠₎ sunghoon
“you have such a good taste...”
“oh- why do you have a good taste? because you date me, tsk”
hoon is constantly valuing himself, almost as though he enjoys pampering. so he expects his s/o to agree with him that he's a handsome man.
“you look so good today. actually you look good everyday... you're the prettiest, baby”
never disappointing, sunghoon wants his s/o to be always confident about themselves just like he is, so he often compliments them.
“are you feeling good? wants to do something else?”
when he and his s/o goes out, hoon worries if they're enjoying what they're doing. if the crowd seems too loud, sunghoon quickly wants to take his partner from there. he values have a good atmosphere around him and his partner, that's why he gets worried.
₍⁠₍ 박종성 ₎⁠₎ jay
“did you know productivity is a concept created by the capitalism?”
jay is such a nerdy and that's something not much talked about. he is always discovering new things and randomly telling his s/o about it. jay absolutely adores debating, too.
“your eyes are so pretty. for real, the prettiest eyes i've ever seen. they shine with the sunlight... i don't wanna stop look at them.”
also, jay is always noticing every detail about his s/o. be it about their physical characteristics or personality.
“bought this for you since last week i heard you say you wanted this.”
jay literally remembers every last information since he likes to make his partner feel special. jay demonstrates his love by being a devoted person, as you can tell from the bottom of his heart.
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# masterlist
[ ★ ] — notes: hey guys, i just created this new thing 'enhypen x-ray' where i'll make posts like this about their acts and behavior.
thank u for reading ! and let me know if you like it :)
© badmuni, 2023
2K notes · View notes
ereardon · 2 months
Text
Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Six
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A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic
Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 
Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 
Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst
Chapter summary: Ducky goes to her first doctor's appointment; Bob and Jake fight it out; Jake makes a staggering proposal
WC: 2K
Masterlist here; previous chapter here
You caught the bus a few blocks from the library and rode it across town to the doctor’s office. Waited in the front area with all the other women in various stages of pregnancy. Your heart sank as you watched woman after woman file in with a partner at her side or a friend. 
You felt utterly alone as they called your name and you stood up alone. 
The sonographer pushed off of her stool and smiled. “The doctor will be in soon.” 
You nodded, laying back against the paper-coated exam table. When the doctor entered, she smiled softly. “Hi there, I’m Dr. Whitman.” She took a seat on the stool. “Let’s take a look here.” She pulled up the sonogram charts. “Everything looks good. You’re measuring at eight weeks and three days. How do you feel?” 
“Nauseous,” you replied. “Tired.” 
She smiled. “That’s par for the course, unfortunately. The second trimester gets better for most patients.” 
“Thank God.” 
The doctor clicked off the screen and folded her hands in her lap. “Y/N,” she said softly. “A core part of a pregnancy is a support system. Are you married?” 
You shook your head. “No.” 
“Do you have a boyfriend or family to lean on?” 
“It’s complicated,” you whispered. 
“I understand.” There was something so soothing about her. “But I also know that what many people don’t realize is that a core part of a healthy pregnancy is having people to lean on. Stress is not good for the baby.” 
“I barely know the father,” you replied. “And I’ve been staying with my brother. But he’s not happy about all of this.” 
The doctor nodded. “No pregnancy is easy to plan for,” she replied. “But keeping your stress levels low is critical, especially during this first trimester. Do you have any friends who can help support you?” 
You thought of Phoenix. So far she was the only one who seemed to want to help. You nodded. “Yeah, I think so.” 
“Good.” The doctor scribbled on a pad. “I’m going to write you a prescription for an anti-nausea medication. Take it once a day for at least a week to see if it helps.” She ripped it off and then handed you the sonogram. “And here’s a photo of your baby.” 
You held the black and white photo in both hands, choking on air. For perhaps the first time, it dawned on you. 
You were going to be a mother. 
***
“Fucking shit, Floyd, what the hell was that?” Jake whipped off his helmet the moment they stepped foot on the tarmac. 
Bob grunted and turned to storm away. Phoenix put one hand on his arm and he shrugged her off. She looked at Jake and raised her eyebrows. “Above my pay grade.” 
“He’s your back seater, Natasha,” Jake said and Phoenix’s lips pressed into a fine line. Jake only called her by her first name when things were serious. 
“He has his own mind,” she hissed back. “I can’t help it that you knocked up his sister.” 
Jake’s green eyes went wide with anger. Bradley stepped between them, trying to diffuse the attention. “Alright, hold on. Let’s just take a step back here before we say things we don’t mean.” 
“I meant it when I said you only think about yourself,” Phoenix said. Her words landed on Jake with a solid delivery. It had been three years, but their last fight still stung. 
Jake shook his head, heading toward the locker room where Bob had disappeared. Behind him, Bradley held both of Phoenix’s arms, keeping her back, his whispers blending into the whirring background noise of jets landing on the tarmac. “Floyd!” Jake’s voice rang out in the empty changing room. He was quiet for a moment before a clang caught his attention, the sound of a locker door slamming. He moved further down the halfway, rounding the corner where Bob stood wearing a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans, a frown laced over his delicate face. “Floyd, listen–”
“I pretty much raised her,” Bob interrupted. Jake frowned, but stayed silent as Bob laced his shoes, refusing to make eye contact. “Our dad left. Our mom worked all the time to put food on the table. So that left taking care of Y/N to me. And I did it, because I loved her. I did it because I wanted what was best for her.” He looked up, blue eyes hollow against sullen skin. “And now you’ve shown up and ruined everything.” 
“I didn’t know she was your sister,” Jake said. “And we didn’t mean for her to get pregnant. It just happened.” 
“But it happened to her!” Bob shouted and Jake took a step back. There was something unhinged about angry Bob. So different from the wallflower that he had always been. You were the one thing that he cared enough about to pick fights over. “You happened to her. You ruined her fucking life, Hangman.” 
“But that’s just it, isn’t it?” Jake said. “It’s her life, Floyd. Not yours. It’s hers. You’re acting like I did this to you as a personal attack.” 
“She was just starting to get her footing,” Bob said quietly. “And you took that away from her. You took away her future. Everything she worked so hard for. Everything we both worked so hard for. To get out of Chattanooga. To not end up like the rest of them.” 
Jake sighed. “So that’s what this is about, isn’t it,” he said. “It’s not about me. And it’s not even really about Y/N. It’s about you.” 
Bob squinted. “What?” 
“You’re mad because you think this foils all of your plans, all of your work, everything you did to get the two of you out of that small town life.” 
“She deserves better.” 
“I agree.” Jake shook his head. “Listen, man, I’m not going anywhere. This might not have been what I expected. Hell, it might not even be what I want. But it’s where we are. I’m not going to leave her alone in all of this.” 
“She isn’t alone,” Bob said. “She has me.” 
“Does she?” 
***
A little girl set a pile of library books on the counter in front of you. She was barely tall enough to reach, her thin arms struggling beneath the weight of the books. “Hi,” she chirped.
You turned and smiled. She had big ears and a wide, uneven grin. “Hi there,” you said, scanning the first book. “Wow, you scored big.” 
“I like bugs,” she explained and you slowly noticed every single book was about snakes or bugs. You could feel bile creep up your throat as you nodded. 
“That’s nice.” 
“Do you like bugs?” 
“Not really.” 
She frowned. “That’s too bad. Do you like puppies?” 
“Yeah, puppies are better.” You finished scanning her books. “Do you need a bag?” 
She shook her head. “No, my mommy is over there.” She pointed at a pregnant woman standing next to the door looking at her phone. The little girl cocked her head to the side. “You look like her.” 
“Really?” You squinted. The woman by the door was taller, with different hair. “How so?” 
“You’re going to be a mommy,” the little girl said. “All mommys look like that.” And then she grabbed her books and jogged off toward the door. You had to practically pick your jaw up from the ground, hands dropping to your barely visible bump. How had she known? Then again, kids were like animals. Sometimes they knew things. You watched the little girl hand the books to her mom, who slid them into a tote bag before grabbing her hand tightly. 
Something stirred inside of you. It was too soon to be the baby, realistically you knew that. But somewhere, deep down, you knew it was the baby making their presence known. 
“Hi there,” you whispered, one hand over your belly button. 
***
It was late. You were asleep on the couch when the door opened. You opened your eyes wide, watching as Jake and Bradley dragged a barely coherent Bob through the door. You stood up, wiping at your eyes. “What the hell?” 
“He’s wasted,” Bradley said. “We tried but we couldn’t stop him.” 
You put your hands on your hips, turning to Jake. “Did you do this?” 
“I’m so tired of everyone blaming me,” he replied. 
“I’m sorry,” you whispered. 
Bradley cocked his head. “Here, let me take him.” Easily, he slung Bob over one of his shoulders, carrying him straight into the bedroom. You dragged your hand over your face, turning to Jake. 
“What’s going on with him?” 
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Jake replied, looking at his feet. “He and I, we uh, we had a fight.” 
“About what?” 
He lifted his gaze to yours. “You know what.” 
“Oh. That.” 
Jake nodded as Bradley stepped back into the living room. He looked at you, and then Jake. “I'm going to head out.” 
“Thanks for bringing him back.” 
“Any time.” Bradley paused by the door. “Hey Y/N?” 
“Yeah?” 
“Be patient with him. He’s still processing.” The door shut softly. 
“He heard me say that I hate him,” you whispered, moving back onto the couch, curling into a ball. Jake followed, sitting on the other end of the couch, a safe distance away. “Maybe he hates me, too.” 
“He doesn’t hate you,” Jake replied. “He wouldn’t act like this if he didn’t love you.” 
“Then why is he hurting me?” you whispered, a tear slipping down your cheek. 
“Because he’s hurt, too,” Jake said. “And it’s easier to be mad.” 
You tipped your head to one side. “That night we met. You had no idea I was Bob’s sister?” 
“Fuck no,” Jake replied and you smirked. He shook his head. “You’re gorgeous, but I never would have looked at you, let alone did what we did if I had known.” 
“So it wasn’t some ploy to get back at him for whatever the hell you two have beef about?” 
“This has become a lot bigger than I ever imagined.” 
You sighed. “I’m sorry I wasn’t a cool girl you met in a bar and had sex with and never saw again. I’m sorry I’m ruining your whole life.” 
“Maybe it’s not so bad,” Jake whispered and you looked up, surprised. “Maybe I needed something to change.” 
“So you’re not upset?” 
“I’m upset,” Jake clarified. “This isn’t at all what I expected. But it’s done, right?” he asked. “We just have to deal with the consequences.” 
“How romantic.” 
“Fuck.” He leaned back. “Shit, I, I didn’t mean it like that.” 
You shook your head. “It’s OK, it was a joke.” 
“But is that what you want?” he said quietly. “Something romantic?” 
“No. I don’t know.” You pulled your hair back into a loose bun, fighting for words. “I don’t know what I want. I don’t know what I’m supposed to do. I don’t know anything.” 
“Are you happy here?” 
You frowned. “What do you mean here?” 
“Staying with Bob.” 
“He’s my brother.” 
“I know, Y/N.” Jake rolled his eyes. “That’s why we’re in this lovely predicament. I’m asking if you feel safe here.” 
“Bob would never hurt me.” 
“I think he already has.” Jake’s words stung and you realized for the first time that hurt was much more than just physical. “I was thinking. There’s an apartment across the hall from mine. It’s two bedrooms.” 
“Are you asking me to move in with you?” You practically scoffed. 
Jake shrugged. “Why not? At least for now. Until he cools down.” 
“That’ll only make him angrier.” 
“I don’t give a shit about what makes Floyd happy,” Jake said. “I care about what’s best for you.” 
“Do you actually?” you pressed. “Or is that just what you think you’re supposed to say and feel and do? Take away all of the outside voices and opinions. What do you, Jake Seresin, want?” 
He was quiet for a moment. Then, in the smallest voice you had ever heard, he replied, “To be a good dad. To do the right thing.” 
You nodded. “OK. I’ll move in with you.” You looked up into his clear green eyes. For the first time in weeks, you felt hopeful.
Please follow my library page @ereardonlibrary as that will largely serve as my tag list. Anyone I previous promised to tag is here:
@bobfloydsbabe @blue-aconite @wkndwlff @mamachasesmayhem @mandylove1000 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230 @rosiahills22 @buckysteveloki-me  @kmc1989 @gigisimsonmars @eloquentdreamer @mjisbby @shanimallina87 @seresinslady @seresinhangmanjake @blackwidownat2814 @yanna-banana @bbyvanessaa  @mrsjobarnes @midnightmagpiemama @ingoaliesitrust @rockbottomphilosophies-blog @iangiemae @joaquinwhorres @boiolay @sometimesanalice @spinning-away @mycobrakai1972 @xomrsalliej4787xo @na-ta-sh-aa
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twilight-orchid · 3 months
Text
The Shopping Trip
Jason Todd x Pregnant Reader
Word count 1,437
Warnings: unplanned pregnancy, cursing, brief sexual reference
Part 1 Part 2
Ever since your pregnancy began to show, Jason was on you like a hawk. You wince from the pressure on your back, he’s there with lotion to give you a massage. You’re too sick to eat, he goes out of his way to make you something you can keep down. He made sure you got enough sleep, bought all of your cravings no matter what time or weather condition, waited on you hand and foot, and was happy to sit there and hold you when you sobbed at whatever triggered your hormones.
Sure, he was doting and sweet, but he was also protective and possessive; traits highly exasperated by the fact you were carrying his kids. Lord help anyone who even looked at you the wrong way, your giant guard dog of a fiancé had a hand on your hip and was staring daggers in seconds. Any time you left the house he was at high alert. You thought it was endearing to a point. However, the way he currently surveyed the Babies-R-Us as you entered like he was on an undercover mission was a bit excessive. He held your hand tight, as if he were afraid someone would whisk you away at any moment.
He grabbed a cart then stopped once you were a bit into the store.
“Alright, game plan.” He said, turning to you.
“Cribs, car seats, a stroller, blankets, towels, bouncers, tummy time pillows, highchairs, clothes, bottles, diapers, toys, bibs, pacifiers.” You read off the list on your phone.
“Damn that’s a list.” He muttered. You snickered, your hands dropping to rest on your 6-month rounded belly.
“Maybe next time you won’t break the condom.” You whispered teasingly.
“I don’t think I recall hearing any complaints at the time. And that night I remember every detail of.” He said lowly, his voice slipping into that sexy growl of his that helped get you in this situation to begin with. He loved how the heat rose to your cheeks as you looked away from him, your lip between your teeth as you too remembered the night in question. He chuckled at your flustered face before he decided you’d had enough.
“Alright, alright doll. After you.”
The couple had only walked a bit further into the store before you squealed and ran over to a display. Well, ran was a bit of an exaggeration at that point; it was more like a quick waddle. He felt guilty about how much pain you were in as the kids grew, but God forgive him, he also found watching you try to maneuver around your middle hilarious.
He followed you to the display as you turned to him beaming, matching purple and green onesies in your hands.
“Look! They have little hoodies. And matching socks and baby mittens! It’s pretty warm, it’ll be perfect to bring them home from the hospital in. And they’re so adorable!” He watched your little outburst with a smile on his lips. Cute.
“Those are perfect.” He agreed. You grinned as you dropped them in the cart.
“So, what are we actually getting today and what’s going on the registry?” He asked as they walked towards the cribs.
“All of the furniture, the strollers, and the car seats will go on the registry; Bruce was very insistent about it. We just need to pick them out today.”
“Oh, I’m sure he’ll buy the whole thing plus some.”
“Most likely.” You agreed with a smile.
Jason really hadn’t been sure how Bruce would react to the news, but surprisingly The Dark Knight was actually taking it in stride. If the family didn’t know any better, they’d venture as far to say he was excited. However, Babs and Dick had him beat. Though no one was as elated as Alfred.
“We should go ahead and get stuff like bibs, blankets, clothes, bottles, pacifiers, and diapers today. But we should put some of that on the registry too, we could always use more.” He nodded in agreement as they reached the cribs.
They walked through the long, overfilled aisle of various cribs and cradles. Jason had no idea there were so many options to choose from, especially since most of them looked exactly the same. He turned to see if any had caught your eye, but he found you with a distinct frown on your face.
”What’s wrong doll?”
“We should have picked out the color scheme for the nursery before looking at furniture.” You replied. One thing you had been insistent on was a put together nursery. Jason had read about it in the numerous pregnancy books he’d read: nesting. You wanted everything cleaned, organized, and put together by the time your little boy and girl got there, and Jason could tell it was stressing you. He came around behind you and pulled you into him, his hands finding the sides of your belly and his fingers massaging circles into the fabric of your top.
“We can get neutrals for the furniture so it’ll work with whatever we choose. And I can always paint it if there’s a specific color pallet you pick out.” He suggested softly. You mulled it over for a second but nodded in agreement.
“This one is cute then. The bottom drops out so we could use it until they’re around 2. And the whole mattress is washable.” You mused, leaning your head back into his chest.
“That one’s nice, but look at this one. The bottom doesn’t drop as far but it turns into a toddler bed. And there’s all that storage on the bottom, we’ll need that while they’re little. Mattress’s still washable too.” You smiled and nodded, pulling away from him to write down the serial number.
The two of you moved about the store, picking out strollers and highchairs, décor and toys, planning paints and curtains. The cart was quickly filling with little things you found that would be helpful; swaddling blankets, wrap carriers, a baby monitor, a bottle warmer, a boogie sucker, etc. With how thorough you thought your list was, it was insane how many things you were seeing that you knew you would need. Eventually you rounded to the large expanse of colorful clothes, shoes, and accessories.
“Let’s split up, maybe 3 outfits each per baby for now?” You suggested. Jason nodded, kissing the top of your head and leaving you with the cart. First and foremost, he picked up a red onesie reading daddy’s girl in black cursive that came with a black tutu and black gold glitter leggings. Next, he grabbed a blue parter in crime onesie with little black cargo pants. Next, he was going for-
He heard soft sniffing coming from nearby. He looked around and was alarmed to find the cries coming from you. He rushed to your side.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” You turned to him with tears down your face and a little formal suit in your hand.
“Jason, look at the tiny suit! It has a little bow tie, and itty-bitty dress shoes!” You could barely get it out before your voice broke. He stared at you blankly, trying to hold it it, but failed miserably as laughter overtook him.
“You’re crying over the baby suit? Seriously?”
“Fuck off Todd, I’m hormonal and it’s cute.” You glared at him, but he could see the humor in the quirk of your lip. He held his hands up in defeat.
“You’re right, you’re right. How dare I?”
“How dare you indeed.” You wiped your tears and turned back to the shelf of clothes you were looking at to hide your growing smile and hung the suit back up.
You both picked out your 6 outfits quickly, and in fact it was hard not to grab more. You hadn’t even seen your babies yet but you were so excited to dress them up. Maybe it was the fact that they were about to be first time parents, but everything was adorable.
You picked out some beanies, baby mittens, and socks to keep them warm, and Jason insisted on grabbing a Wonder Woman and a Superman swaddling blanket, pointedly leaving the Batman one untouched. Finally it was time to hit check out.
Jason said no to the printed copy when the cashier asked if he wanted the receipt in hand or emailed, honestly he wanted to quickly grow amnesia for that part of the trip. Especially since he knew that was trip number 1 of 2000 probably. However, when he looked over at you, your hand protectively resting over your children’s temporary home, the price tag didn’t matter quite as much. And as long as he had you with him, he didn’t care how many shopping trips you had to go on for your new, growing little family.
Whoo boy I couldn’t figure out how to end this one. Sorry it took so long, life is very stressful right now and writing is more of a passive hobby for me. This one doesn’t feel as put together as my others so sorry if it’s not what you were hoping for! I really just wanted to do some domestic fluff. Regardless thank you for reading and I really really appreciate the support on part 1 and 2!!!
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writeforfandoms · 7 months
Text
Born for Greatness bonus 4
Find the series masterlist
FINALLY putting out the last bonus chapter for this series! This can be canon or can be discarded as you like, as it doesn't effect the main storyline at all.
Warnings: Pregnancy, unplanned pregnancy, probably rose-colored tbh, established relationship, established pack, shifter behavior, swearing, Logan has to learn a whole new interrogation method.
Word count: 1.8k
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Soap and Gaz both murmured sleepily when you tried to nudge them off, nestling closer in retaliation. You looked to John for help, but he just shrugged. 
“Fucking burrs, I warned you,” he murmured, leaning over where you were trapped on the LoveSac to kiss your forehead. He nosed gently at your temple, breathing in the scent of you. “They’ll need to get up soon anyway.”
You sighed but gave in, a little reluctantly. “Five minutes, then I’m kicking them off.”
“Good luck.” John smirked at you, pressing one more kiss to your forehead before he left to go do his own preparations. Which is really what you should be pushing these two to do, but they clearly didn’t want to.
John hadn’t been sure how long they’d be gone this time. More than a week, he’d said with an apologetic little grimace, but he didn’t know more than that. 
Which was fine. You’d fly out to Logan, take care of some stuff there, maybe pick up a few etiquette classes or do some community work. It wasn’t like you were some wilting wife staring mournfully out to sea waiting on her husband. 
You snorted softly at the mental image. Yeah, no thanks. Not for you. 
You left shortly after they did, humming to yourself as you went through security and then waited for the plane. The trip was long, but worth it. 
And this time, you were giving Logan a taste of his own medicine and showing up unannounced. So you got a cab out to his property. 
Which was, of course, cold. Because the weirdo liked Canada. 
You fished out your house key and opened the door. “Logan?” 
There was a thump and a swear from further in the house. You grinned and headed that way. 
“You know, when I said your stuff wouldn’t be any trouble, I might have misjudged.” Logan glowered at you from where he stood in the middle of a storage room, which was currently stuffed with your stuff from your apartment. 
“I did tell you I didn’t need the furniture,” you pointed out, leaning in the doorframe. 
“The bookcases are nice, don’t wanna get rid of those.” Logan narrowed his eyes at you, head tipping as he approached. You paused, watching him, because this was not normal. He sniffed you, leaning in closer, until he made a face and took a step back. “Really, kid?”
“What?” You resisted the urge to sniff your own arm, because you knew it wouldn’t work. 
He blinked. Twice. “Oh fuck.” He rubbed one hand down his face, gaze flitting around the room, before he deflated a little and sighed. “Okay. Kitchen. Go.” 
Confused, you went, because this? You needed to know what this was about. 
Logan made coffee (he didn’t do tea) and growled at you every time you so much as tried to get up from your chair. So you just sat, utterly perplexed, and watched. 
Finally, he set a coffee in front of you, took a deep breath, and blurted out, “You’re pregnant, kid.” 
You blinked, suddenly quite aware of why he’d had you sit down. You grabbed the table to make sure you weren’t swaying. “I’m… what?” 
“I can tell.” He tapped his nose meaningfully. “I’ll drive into town and get some things for you.” 
“I’ll go, might as well,” you said, more out of habit than actual desire. 
And three tests later (you still had another pack to take in a few days), you were once again sitting at the kitchen table, more or less in shock. 
“I take it this wasn’t planned.” Logan nudged your foot with his, frowning a little. 
“Nope. Hadn’t even talked about it.” You breathed in slowly, trying not to freak out. 
“It’ll be fine.” Logan reached over to take one of your hands. “And if it’s not you’ll come here.”
You huffed. “You have a way of making things seem much more simple than they actually are,” you mumbled, though you couldn’t help but smile. 
“All depends how you look at it.” Logan shrugged. “You’ll be fine, one way or the other. You’ve got time and space here to think about what you wanna do. If you wanna keep the cub or not.” 
You put your head down on the table and whimpered. 
True to his word, though, Logan gave you all the time and space you wanted, letting you figure shit out. He offered opinions (sometimes wanted, sometimes not). And when you got too caught up in your own head, he bullied you onto the couch, turned on a movie, and shifted and laid across your lap. 
It was oddly effective. 
You had an entire month to sort yourself out. 
And then John texted, saying they were on their way back to base. 
Logan didn’t quite sit on you but he threatened to, glowering at you until you cooperated and then booking tickets for the two of you back to England. 
(“You can’t travel alone.”
“I’m pregnant, not dying!”
“Don’t care, you’re not traveling alone.”
“I hate you.”
“I know.”) 
Logan stayed with you the entire time, calm as always. His calm seemed to directly increase in relation to your anxiety. Which was… something to think about later. 
For now you were just grateful he wasn’t biting your head off. 
John had volunteered to pick you up, so of course he was waiting for you, car idling, leaning back against the hood as he patiently scanned the crowds for you. 
You didn’t actually track the steps you took to get to John. You were in front of Logan one minute, and in John’s arms the next. He rumbled a soft laugh as he squeezed you gently. 
“Missed me, hm?” he teased, kissing the top of your head.
“I’m pregnant.” You didn’t think. Just blurted the words out. 
“...come again?” 
You pulled back, looking up at him. “I’m pregnant.” 
John was very, very still for the longest half-dozen heartbeats of your life. He blinked. His mouth opened. Then closed. You swallowed hard, sudden nerves clenching around your heart. 
And then he was hugging you even tighter, face hidden against the top of your head, murmuring too quietly for you to understand. 
When he pulled back, his eyes were damp, and he was grinning wider than you’d ever seen. “That must be why…” He trailed off, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing deep again. 
“Alright, you two,” Logan said loudly, blatantly interrupting you. “Figure it out later.” 
You huffed and shot him a nasty look before giving John a quick kiss. “We should head back,” you agreed, a little reluctantly. 
Of course then John took your luggage and fussed over your seatbelt and wouldn’t stop glancing at you the entire drive back. Logan, the absolute bastard, was laughing to himself in the back seat. 
“You go say hi to the boys,” you told Logan sternly once John had parked. “You and I need to actually discuss this, I guess.” You looked at John. 
“Alright.” He didn’t even sound freaked out, much more under control again. 
But he didn’t take you back to his office. He took you to his room. 
There was very little talking involved in the next couple hours. 
You did insist on a shower before going to see the rest of the pack. 
You did not tell the rest of the pack about the baby just yet. You wanted to do something a little more nice for them than just blurting it out. (You’d feel bad about telling John that way but he was too smug already.) 
So you enlisted Logan’s help, getting him to go take your entire pack on a run. You took the time to decorate the pack room with some balloons you’d run off base for, a cake, and a little banner you hung off the table. You had enough time to question all your life choices before they came back. 
Logan looked in first, grinned, and moved to a prime spot to get pictures. John was next, huffing softly but his gaze soft as he looked at you.
The other three started to come in, and stopped. Well, to be more accurate, Gaz stopped short, Ghost stopped just shy of hitting him, and Soap walked right into Ghost’s back and swore before peeking between the two. 
Silence. Complete silence. It lasted just long enough for you to wonder if you’d made a mistake, if they weren’t okay with this, if this was a bad thing after all–
Gaz whooped and grabbed you, picking you up off your feet in a spinning hug. You squeaked, more surprised than anything. 
He didn’t even set you down. Just handed you straight to Soap, who also spun you around while holding you tight. Then he deposited you in front of Ghost. 
Ghost blinked down at you before slowly, carefully initiating a hug. You melted. He never initiated.
“So, I take it you guys are fine with this?” you asked, only a little choked up, still leaning into Ghost. 
“To put it mildly,” Gaz agreed, grin clear in his voice. He plastered himself to your back, joining in the hug shamelessly and ignoring Ghost's little annoyed growl. And then Soap jumped in too and you were laughing as the pile of you tipped precariously. 
"Alright, you muppets," John grumbled, fond amusement clear in his voice. "That's enough." It didn't take long before he was gently tugging you away from the boys. 
It wasn’t all sunshine and daisies, and you were no saint. But the pack made it work. 
Until the day you were finally cradling a little girl against you. So far Logan was keeping the rest of the pack at bay, so you and John had half a chance to meet your baby in peace. You’d never thought you’d see John cry, but he’d surprised you. 
Now, though, you three had a little peace. Your little girl slept against your chest, John hovering over the both of you. 
“She’s perfect, love,” John murmured, tipping his head to rest his cheek against your temple. 
“She is.” You smiled, exhausted, leaning further back into the bed. “Think she’ll be a bear like you?” 
“Probably.” John huffed softly. “Too soon to tell. We’ll find out soon enough.” He touched the back of one tiny hand with one finger, impossibly gentle. 
“Ready for all the extra mischief?” You couldn’t help but smile, already thinking of all the trouble she’d get into with Gaz and Soap. 
“Be good practice for them,” John rumbled, amused. “It’ll be fine, love.”
“I know.” You yawned, struggling to keep your eyes open now. “Trust you.” 
“Go to sleep, love. I’ll keep watch.” 
You managed to open one eye to shoot him an amused look. “The pack is literally outside ready to take on anything,” you pointed out. “You don’t need to keep watch.”
“Won’t stop me from doing it anyway.” John rumbled soothingly, pressing closer to you both. 
“Ridiculous man.” But you smiled as you closed your eyes again, heart full to overflowing. The security of having the pack outside and your mate next to you made it easy to drift to sleep.
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gabessquishytum · 1 month
Note
Dream and Hob are friends with benefits. This wasn't planned - certainly not by Dream - but one thing led to another, and after one of their dinners, which became frequent after their reunion, they ended up upstairs, with Dream on his back and his legs on Hob's shoulders. Dream has never been in an FWB arrangement before, but he's a huge fan now (and why did Hob waste so much time talking to him about chimneys when humanity has invented this utter masterpiece??). Hob treats him like a pillow princess, takes him with equal vigor and enthusiasm in all his forms, and they fuck all around the Dreaming and in the most exotic locations of the Waking world. They also hang out as friends, learn more about each other's lives, and all that sans mindfucking that comes with relationships. Oh yes, Dream is a huge fan. He is, in fact, in love with Hob, but he'd never lay such a burden on Hob's shoulders. Love of an Endless is a heavy thing, and Dream doesn't want to see his dearest friend crumble under it. Hob is also in love with Dream, but if 1889 taught him something, it is not to ask Dream for more than he's ready to give. And Dream already gives much more than Hob has ever hoped. The teeny-tiny problem arises when they have an especially cathartic sex: Hob is so relentless and passionate, and they go rounds and rounds, switching between the Waking and the Dreaming. As Hob whispers filthy, unbearable things into his ear about how much he'd like to breed Dream and keep him, Dream gets lost in a fantasy of them having a home…and a child. It wouldn't be enough to get preggers if Hob didn't actually mean it and dream of it, too, but Hob very much meant it and dreamt of it. Dreamt of it for centuries. And that's how mere days later - because Dream is inhuman and his awareness of what's going on inside him is unmatched - Dream feels a new life stirring somewhere deep inside. He is ecstatic and confused and scared and everything in between. But besides being afraid of failing as a father (again!), he's afraid of Hob's reaction. Apparently, their arrangement didn't involve babies. Dream briefly considers keeping his pregnancy a secret but eventually decides to come clean to Hob: his friend deserves to know he'll be a father soon, even if this child is unwanted. Another thing is, Dream can already feel that the baby isn't human: they're taking more after his nightmarish side...If only the Dreaming's library had a book How to Tell Your FWB He Got You Pregnant with a Creature 101! Perhaps it'd appear there after tonight...
Awww this is so good!! Poor Dream. He's feeling like such a stereotype - an unplanned pregnancy, potentially losing his best friend. Why is his life like something out of a bad human soap opera?! He arranges to meet up with Hob and nervously sits with his hands covering his stomach. If nothing else, he's going to love his baby a whole lot. He's actually a little bit excited by the prospect of having a little creature to love and care for. He created a dozen little baby sleepsuits with multiple limb holes already.
Hob is rather shocked, of course, because he never expected to be a father again. But after the shock wears off, he's ecstatic! He's been so desperate to forge something permanent with Dream - fwbs has been great, and Hob will always want to be Dream’s friend, but he's greedy enough to want more. He's not scared of Dream’s love, he's excited to drown in it and reciprocate everything that Dream wants to give him.
Hob is like "I did say I wanted to breed you and keep you, sweetheart. Well, let me prove to you exactly how much I meant it." He wants Dream to live with him, at least some of the time. So he can take care of him and the baby. Of course he doesn't want Dream to abandon his work and function, but wouldn't it be nice to have a domestic life together? Can't they be best friends who are also deeply romantically in love and having extremely hot sex? Well, it's not something that Dream has tried to before. He's never actually been friends with any of his romantic partners. Could that have been the problem all along?
He senses that he'll need all the help he can get with the baby (who is living up to their function and being a proper little nightmare already). And if he moves in with Hob, at least he can get footrubs on demand. Maybe he'll finally get to be happy with Hob and the creature they've created through their love?
At least he's going to try. And Hob is so proud and grateful for that. He'll give footrubs 24/7 <333
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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year
Text
JASON TODD | RED HOOD (generalized canon)
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“Lick” (Jason Todd x Fem!Reader)
| Jason rushes to pay you a little visit.
| NSFW, 18+, minors dni, cunnilingus, fwb to more, Dick Grayson has a big mouth
| 1k+ words
| One last treat from me for Halloween! Happy Spooky Season!
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Jason has you on your knees, arms crossed over the back of the couch, and mewling into the bend of your folded limbs.
It’s not fair. An hour out of his patrol, time where he was supposed to be debriefing with the Bats, and instead he’d slipped through your window and dropped to his knees for you like a man starved.
Jason didn’t always start a whole conversation when you guys met unplanned like this, but it was uncommon for him to not chat you up at least a bit before reducing you to thin gasps.
You moan, muscles in your legs straining due to the way you’re writhing against the broad strokes of his tongue. He might’ve switched up on you but it was a great switch.
“S-shit Jay,” you pant. He groans a muffled ‘mhm’ into your folds before tightening his grip on you and bearing you down on his face.
The lingering keen that move pulls from you is not voluntary.
The heat that travels up the low of your stomach has your brown skin glistening and chest heaving. Clearly Jason was on a fucking mission. Your toes curl, and Jason undoubtedly notices how close you are because he starts moaning like it’s his clit being abused, and then your eyes are rolling to the back of your head. Your orgasm crashes through you so suddenly that in order to not wake your whole floor you’re forced to bite into the couch cushion. Moaning and desperately grinding down on him all the while.
Your legs lock together as you cum, only not crushing Jason’s head because of the vice-like grip he’s got on them. Glutton for punishment he is though, you don’t think he’d mind much if they were actually squeezing around him. But that was something to bring up later when you weren’t full body shuddering through catching your breath.
“What,” you gasp. “Was that for?”
Jason, who for all intents and purposes hasn’t moved, barely responds. He’s too busy licking the cum from your dark lips and making chills run up your spine from the oversensitivity. Your only saving grace is that even with him occasionally dipping into the pink of your vagina to hungrily lap up your juices he at least wasn’t still attacking your bud like it personally betrayed him.
Eventually he hums from between your trembling legs, gives two more long broad swipes up your pussy that make your breath hitch, presses a kiss to your clit, and then pulls himself away. The cool air hitting your skin is a disappointing but instant balm, however, so at least there’s that.
You managed to get the question out but whether post-nut clarity would’ve hit in time for you to elaborate on it is a different thing entirely. It’s for the best. With a sigh you turn around.
The large man’s just kneeling on the floor, and still tasting you on his tongue if the delirious look in his eyes is anything to go by. Despite your confusion it makes you smile.
“Jay? You gonna answer me?”
He licks his lips slowly and drags his gaze up, taking his time unashamedly going over your naked form, till you lock eyes. It’s a little intense. His eyes are usually blue with flecks of green swirling around in them but the green overwhelms his eyes whenever he’s amped up, the last remnants of the pit within him. It’s teal that bores into your brown and you shiver.
The shrug he gives you is so nonchalant it throws you off for a second and you find yourself giving an amused scoff.
“Dick told me something earlier,” he rumbles. It’s because he was just neck deep in your pussy you know that but shit if it doesn’t make your face heat up.
A nod from you and he keeps talking, clearing his throat.
“You told him we were -ah- seeing each other?”
Oh. Oh.
The veil of blissful release leaves you in seconds and you sit up fully with a wave of your hands. In your rush the tentative (because of a certain jackass interrupting your night routine) hold your bonnet has on your head gives way and the satin lands in a heap beside you.
“Shit! I’m sorry Jay, I just responded I wasn’t even thinking. It’s just we have technically been seeing each other for a while and it slipped out…”
At the look on his face you trail off. He’s smiling. At you. Not with his I’m-deflecting-and-full-of-shit smile either.
A small quirk of his lips and then he eases out of the kneel and into your space in one effortless swoop.
“I’m not mad or anything,” he shrugs and glances away. “Just- you meant it right?”
You let out a puff of air and your own smile rises, pulse ratcheting down. “Yeah I meant it, you fucking dork. I claim you once and you rush to make me cum?”
Jason rises with a huff of laughter, hands wrapping around your waist and gliding over your rich skin with the tenderness someone might handle porcelain figurines. The sharp urge to kiss him makes itself known and you don’t fight it, bending down to meet him halfway like you need it to survive.
The way your lips connect makes your heart fucking flutter and you can’t be alone in that if the smile you can feel pressed against your mouth has any say.
How he looks at you when you separate, hard gaze gone soft, is even better.
“I just wanted to show you how much I appreciate it,” he inclines his head. “And you.”
Jesus, this man was gonna make you pass out if he kept making your heart flip like this.
“Well consider me very appreciated, Jay,” you peck him on the lips before huffing and moving to shove at his shoulder. He doesn’t remotely budge but it’s the principle of the matter. “Now go clean up and get to your debriefing, you know how Bruce gets.”
Jason rolls his eyes as he rocks back and runs his hand through his hair, white streak catching briefly.
“B can kiss my ass,” the smile he throws your way this time is tinged with suggestion as his voice drops. “I have way better things to be doing right now, Beautiful.”
A cool wonderful thrill goes up your spine at the promise in his gaze but you refuse to get caught up in it. So what if the way you kiss him after is a little desperate. He’s earned it.
“As amazing as that sounds,” you say against his lips, hand holding onto his jaw so he won’t chase your mouth for any more. “It’s not happening until I know I can thank you properly without a bat or a bird scratching at my window. Understood?”
He groans and gives you a pleading look you know you’ll be drawing out of him later, but you only press another kiss to the tip of his nose before pushing his face away from you.
“Oh, come on!” He gets up and leaves though. Eventually, and with a hard on after you’ve made out for twenty more minutes and damn near made him cum in his pants.
NOTES: as per usual hope you enjoyed! (ps: I rewrote it just a little since I had to rushed to get it out on Halloween but, yeah. I needed to add the flavor real quick.)
EDIT: Slightly rewritten again on 1/17/23❤️
2K notes · View notes
puppy-steve · 3 months
Text
january fic rec - b sides
not actually fics i read in january, but i need to clear out my ao3 recs to prep for the upcoming months and this seems like a good enough time to do that.
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Sometimes Goodbye is a Second Chance - E, 14.5k, complete @lexirosewrites
tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, tattoo artist eddie, falling in love, angst with a happy ending
Steve goes into Hellfire Ink for one reason and one reason only: to have his mating bond broken. Meeting the owner, who specializes in this taboo service, is the silver lining to being blindsided at the sudden and devastating end of his twelve year marriage to Nancy. It only takes a handful of painful scarification sessions for them to redefine their expectations of love.
Little Velvet Box - E, 2.3k, complete preservedchaos
tags: modern au, marriage proposal
Steve didn’t mean to find it. He was honestly looking for one of the pairs of Christmas socks he knew Eddie kept buried in his drawer. His hand was buried in the sea of socks, rooting around for the fluffy material, when his fingers encountered a solid object.
Ask The Wife - M, 1.8k, complete unhappy_peaches
tags: secret relationship, eddie calls steve his wife
“You guys all call me and Steve “mom and dad,” so, theoretically, if that is true, that makes him my wife.”
don't let go - E, 3.9k, complete sunbleacheddie
tags: rockstar eddie, reunion sex
Eddie's been on tour for a month and has to extend his time away. He surprises Steve by coming home early.
hash brown, egg yolk (i will always love you) - G, 2.8k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans
tags: married steddie, rockstar eddie, teacher steve, domestic fluff
Six months is a long time to be apart. A long time to go without seeing Eddie in the flesh. Without hearing his laugh, low and melodic, right against the shell of his ear. Without hugging Eddie around the middle and hooking his chin over Eddie’s shoulder while he stands at the stove and pushes something delicious around a pan. Without kissing Eddie. But so is the way of being married to a hotshot musician with a band that has more than made it big. Because that's what Eddie is. And, god, Steve couldn’t be more proud. Even if it does mean that sometimes he and Eddie have to go long stretches of time without seeing each other. But that doesn’t matter anymore. Because Eddie is home now, and he’s going to be home for a while. Corroded Coffin just wrapped up the European leg of their tour (“Fucking Europe, Stevie! Can you believe it!”) and they’ve been given a month before their North American leg is set to start. A whole entire month that Eddie already promised he will be spending at home with Steve. Starting today.
Oath of Devotion - G, 1.4k, complete @matchingbatbites
tags: steve plays dnd, extablished relationship
"Three years ago, I took my place by your side as your personal guard. I swore to care for you, to protect you from anything that would want to hurt you, and somewhere along the way, we fell in love."
nothing else matters - T, 2.4k, complete AliuIce0814
tags: omega steve, alpha eddie, unplanned pregnancy
Steve’s pretty sure there’s no pee left in his body. Still, all seven of these tests have to be wrong, right? Sure, he’s seeing Eddie Munson pretty regularly - but Eddie always wears a condom, but they never have sex when Steve’s in heat. So why are all of these pregnancy tests positive?
Indecent - M, 2.9k, complete NotEvenCloseToStraight
tags: idiot4idiot, established relationship
Steve was adorable wearing Eddie’s clothes. He was stupidly sexy wearing Eddie’s clothes. Steve was unfairly breaking Eddie’s brain wearing his clothes and it was just downright indecent. “Steve.” Eddie swallowed hard and lowered his voice. “Steve, go change.” “What?” Steve’s nose wrinkled when he frowned. “Why?” “Go change.” “But I’m comfortable.” “Go. Change.” “Eddie, I don’t understand--” “PUT THAT THING BACK WHERE IT CAME FROM OR SO HELP ME!” Eddie planted his feet and pointed violently at the crop top. “SO HELP ME STEVE HARRINGTON!”
A King On His Throne - E, 4.1k, complete Papaya_Whip
tags: dom/sub, choking, pre-discussed kink
“Like what you see?” Eddie asks, teasing. “Yeah,” Steve replies dumbly. He has the decency to blush afterward, because fuck, Eddie has him so malleable and that word fell so easily from his mouth, but Eddie’s persona is starting to slip again, to give way to something severely tender underneath, and Steve shoves him into a kiss before the expression Eddie is wearing can melt him entirely. And it’s bliss; it’s Eddie’s arms wrapping around him and dragging him that last inch closer, until their bodies are flush and Steve can barely breathe. It’s Eddie chasing Steve’s tongue and moaning, loud and low, into Steve’s parted lips. It’s Eddie’s wild, gorgeous hair pulled tight in Steve’s desperate fists. Steve leverages his grasp on Eddie’s curls to pull his head back, presses a shower of kisses down the column of his throat. Scrapes his teeth there and feels as Eddie swallows around a hiss. “Fuck, Stevie,” he says, “you’ve completely ruined me.”
Bows & All - E, 3.3k, complete GodsDoggy
tags: daddy kink, transmasc steve, dom/sub, breeding kink
“What can I say?” Steve smiles. “I’m a man of my word.” Eddie snorts. “Clearly.” He looks down between them, admiring the ribbons that decorate Steve's inner thighs. “Bows and all, huh?” Steve laughs, a little breathless in his needy state. “Bows and all.”
Tiny Green Shorts - E, 2.2k, complete @hotluncheddie
tags: steve's green basketball shorts, dom/sub, free use mentions
Steve wants attention, so he puts on his old shorts from high school.
Playing House with You - E, 4.3k, complete GonzoTheGreat
tags: daddy kink, breeding kink, mommy kink
They had just moved into their own little house outside of town, it was perfect to him in every way. Thing was, it got Steve picturing them “playing house” as Eddie would call it. It was driving him crazy.
i wish i knew how (your eyes are like starlight now) - G, 10k, complete @stevethehairington | MacksDramaticShenanigans
tags: pining, christmas fluff, getting together, first kiss, mistletoe
Steve makes a promise, Robin likes to meddle, and the spirit of Christmas strikes (out) again. And again. And again. (Until it doesn’t.)
Be My Mistake - T, 4.1k, complete flowershoplights
tags: fluff, snowball fights, love confessions
Steve and Eddie find warmth in each other during the holiday season
Your skin and bones turn into something beautiful (You know I love you so) - M, 4.2k, complete ChristinMKay
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, platonic stobin, soulmate au
Steve Harrington is born with a scream on his lips and so much love in his being that his body is covered in it. An abundance of moles, freckles, and birthmarks are speckled across his skin, painting him in constellations and stardust and affection. The nurses and doctors are congratulating Steve’s parents as they place him in the arms of his mother. They say he is blessed. Lived so many lives filled with people who loved him so much that the press of their lips against his skin had to echo through time and leave a mark.
Dial V for Virgin - E, series, complete @lexirosewrites
tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, frat steve, eddie calls steve "puppy"
Rushing a fraternity so his dad will keep paying for college isn’t exactly Steve’s idea of fun. Being required to lose his virginity in order to get a bid from ABΩ somehow makes it even worse. Which is why finding graffiti in a party bathroom that says, “for a good time text Eddie 555-318-7249,” feels like a sign from the universe.
Fucked Up (Perfect) Family - E, 6.4k, complete GonzoTheGreat
tags: daddy kink, mommy kink, breeding kink, steve wants a baby and eddie's gonna give him one
He nodded. “You refer to me as the kid’s dad, yeah?” “Yeah?” “And today was different, what was different?” Something was different, he hadn’t realized that. Every other time he’d referred to Eddie as the ‘dad’ all he felt was warm contentment, like soup on a cold day. Today he freezed. Even if Dustin didn’t notice, it still happened. Which means Eddie must have seen it. “Ummm well… I don’t know? I mean I’ve always kinda liked you being a father figure to the kids if that makes sense? Like you’re the dad and I’m the mom and we’re one big happy family.”
Once Bitten (Twice Shy) - E, 22.1k, complete ParadimeShifts
tags: modern au, christmas fluff, the three muskequeers as roommates, light dom/sub
Steve’s relationship with Christmas had always been tenuous, to say the least, but it didn’t help that this was the first Christmas he would be suffering through since his ex-girlfriend had snatched up his self-esteem and taken off running the year before. He knew it was the intrinsically romantic quality of the holiday season, and nothing more. Just his lonely bones after a year of healing from heartbreak. But Eddie's arms around him when he needed them most were starting to feel a lot like love. Or: A fic inspired by George Michael's "Last Christmas".
use your words, baby - E, 4.5k, complete @infinite-orangepeel
tags: transmasc steve, established relationship, dysphoria mentions, daddy kink
“Like it’s a real cock, you mean?” Steve clarifies, brain moving at a snail’s pace since all the blood has traveled down into his swollen clit. “That’s exactly what I mean, pretty boy, but not just any random fucker’s cock. You’re too good for the rest of ‘em. Like it’s my cock. Like you’re sucking me off in a dirty bar bathroom—like that one we went to in Chicago last summer. Like you wanna get me off as fast as possible so no one catches you being such a filthy cumslut for the town freak,” Eddie kisses his abdomen, dips his tongue into his belly button, and ruts his cock against the concave part of Steve’s hip, “Suck it hard, baby. C’mon play pretend with me and I’ll moan right in your ear the whole time like it’s really mine.”
can you feel the hot blood rush? - E, 5.9k, complete GodsDoggy
tags: mommy kink, dom/sub, sub eddie, sex club, exhibitionism
A strong hand slides up the length of Eddie’s thigh, pausing right where the leather tapers off at his crotch. “You went somewhere, honey. What’s wrong?” Eddie keeps his eyes on the road as he speaks. Steve’s thumb moves in small circles over his thigh. “Thinking about stuff.” “What kind of stuff?”
summer's in the air, and baby heaven's in your eyes - E, 2.2k, complete steddieverse
tags: mommy kink, sub eddie, soft dom steve, grinding, frottage
So it's times like this, sitting together on Eddie's ass of a couch, when it feels like the Earth is spinning a lot faster than normal. Steve glistened with sweat, hair messy. The joint he's smoking is just the cherry on top. Eddie has to admit, summer really is doing him some fucking justice on this one thing. or, eddie munson has got it real bad for steve harrington during a heatwave.
let me wrap my teeth around the world - E, 1.3k, complete skwudgie
tags: transmasc steve, pussy worship, dom/sub, sub eddie, soft dom steve
Eddie Munson has a thing about dropping to his knees.
sos - T, 7.1k, complete @ikarakie
tags: post-s3, established relationship, secret relationship, accidental outting, protective wayne
eddie and steve have been dating, in secret, for nearly a year when starcourt happens. the gang find out because wayne munson turns up at the hospital, having been called there because he's steve's emergency contact. eddie isn't far behind.
in your eyes i am complete - E, 4.5k, complete bdelaney
tags: shibari, valentines day, dom/dub, daddy kink, spit kink, dacryphilia
On the one hand, Steve's really not complaining that Eddie isn’t one of those people who thinks of Valentine's Day as the “most romantic day of the year” like some of the girls he had known in high school. But on the other hand, nothing makes Steve happier than seeing Eddie happy, and he is certain that celebrating the holiday as a couple would make his boyfriend very happy. Even if he won’t outwardly admit it. So it was decided–Steve would be sweeping Eddie off his feet with the most romantic Valentine’s Day he could possibly imagine. They didn’t call him King Steve in high school for nothing.
Wake-Up Call - E, 2.2k, complete cheshiredog
tags: morning sex, established relationship, fluff
Steve groans and hugs his pillow. A little smile curls his lips though his eyes are shut. “That feel good?” Eddie asks. “You like it when I push your dick into the bed?” “Mmhmm.” “You’re so perfect like this. All pliant and sweet. Gonna feel so good fucking you into this mattress.” Steve’s grin widens. “Mmhmm.” “Fuck. I love you, Steve.” “Love you. Fuck me.” Eddie wakes up Steve with some slow morning sex.
Close, Closer - E, 5.4k, complete JCMadGirl
tags: light dom/sub, safeword use, hurt/comfort
It's going well, until it isn't. [“Do you remember when- when we told you about the Russians?” He finally chokes out, feeling like he’s balancing on the edge of a ravine. “Yeah?” Eddie’s eyes burn on his skin, like he can see right through all of Steve’s carefully constructed walls, and he knows that’s true. “You haven’t- haven’t told me everything, have you?” Steve clenches his fists. “Steve, what did they do to you?”] Or, Steve Harrington has a flashback in the middle of a scene
On My Way - E, 8.1k, complete MiraEdge
tags: booty calls, heat fic, first time bottoming
“Eddie, I want you to make me cum so hard that then I pass out. I need you to fuck this out of me until I can’t get it up anymore. If you want me to drink some water, sure, but please don’t try to make me sleep when every nerve in my fucking body is feeling like it’s on fi- Fuuck!"
just guys being dudes - E, 7.4k, complete midnightdrive
tags: threesome, accidental voyeurism, light daddy kink
“I don’t think we’ve been direct enough, so now we’re asking. You in?” Gareth sees something he maybe shouldn’t have.
breathe out (so i can breathe you in) - E, WIP kaleinope
tags: school of rock au, jewish eddie, dad steve, music teacher eddie, basketball coach steve
“You thinking of getting it for yourself?” The man continues, eyebrows raised, and that’s when Steve realises he’s just been staring, practically drooling over this stranger who's decided to strike up a conversation about a guitar. A part of him wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him whole. “Oh, uh, no, actually.” He says, “It’s for my daughter.” Something indecipherable flickers across the man’s face, there and gone again in an instant, “How sweet.” “I don’t know what I’m looking for,” he admits, a little sheepish, “I’m not a musician, so…” he shrugs, “I have no way of knowing if this is a good guitar or not.” There’s a hint of amusement in the man’s eyes as his mouth tilts into a more crooked grin, “Well, lucky for you, I can help.” In one fluid motion, the man drops himself into a sweeping, dramatic bow. The suddenness of it startles a laugh out of Steve. “Eddie Munson, guitarist, musician extraordinaire - at your service.” His energy is infectious - Steve finds that he’s grinning, “Uh, Steve Harrington. Basketball coach, dad,” He tries to think of another good descriptor, but comes up short, “Totally at a loss, here.”
lavender haze - E, 2.9k, complete bdelaney
tags: daddy kink, lingerie, dom/sub, feminization, nipple play
Kinktober Day 16: Lingerie Eddie rakes his hands underneath Steve’s shirt, freezing when his fingers come into contact with soft lace. Pulling away with a dazed expression on his face, Steve watches timidly as Eddie slowly pulls up the hem of his polo, pausing when he encounters the soft lilac lace that stretches over Steve’s ribs. “Baby,” he rasps out, making goosebumps erupt down Steve’s arms. “What have you got here?”
you're the singer and i'm the song - E, 4.7k, complete oklahoma
tags: transmasc eddie, pussy drunk steve, light dom/sub
After hearing a rumor that Steve's fantastic at eating pussy, Eddie asks Steve to prove it to him. Steve is more than happy to oblige.
running home to your sweet nothing - E, 1.9k, complete bdelaney
tags: dom/sub, transmasc steve, somnophilia, daddy kink, comeplay
“Hi, baby,” Eddie murmurs, and Steve moans weakly into the pillow. “I’m home.” “So sleepy,” Steve slurs out. Humming quietly against Steve’s skin, he presses a wet kiss to his inner thigh before saying with a smile, “Then go back to sleep, angel.” OR Eddie comes home from his tour and just can't wait to reunite with his boyfriend. Even if he's too tired to participate.
Let them eat metal - T, 2/2, complete Dark_Rosaleen
tags: outsider pov, protective gareth
Gareth has had just about enough of Steve Harrington in the fall of '86. He sets about to do something about it. It takes an angry mob, a Corroded Coffin gig and a baseball bat full of nails for him to change his mind. Gareth gets mad, Eddie gets beat up, Steve gets violent and Wayne is just really tired of everyone's shit.
Simple Biology - E, 8/8, complete boltedfruit
tags: alpha eddie, omega steve, college au, forced proximity, getting together, period typical sexism
Steve's first real college assignment is to take care of a flour bag baby. With his class partner Eddie Munson, who happens to be an alpha. - Then Eddie snaps his jaw at the other alpha, the sound of teeth hitting teeth ringing between Steve’s ears. And from his vantage point, he swears he sees Eddie’s eyes flash red. The other alpha's hands slowly unwind from Eddie’s vest. Eddie bears down until the other cowers. It's subtle. A tilt of his head in deference. Eddie’s won. Steve’s mouth waters.
make this lovin' last - E, series, complete @aliencamper
tags: omega/omega, heat sex, nipple play, male lactation, strap-ons, scissoring
While Steve has been worshiping every inch of his pussy, he made sure that Eddie’s tiny mosquito-bite tits were ignored. Let his dusky nipples stand at attention, puffy and leaking heat milk profusely without any relief. “I know, Omega. Need you, too. Just a little longer,” Steve replies. He gives Eddie’s cock one last lick, keeping contact between his tongue and the trail of soft hairs between Eddie’s pussy and stomach as he shifts further up in their nest. The movement provides a hint of friction where the blanket drags against his nipples and slick-covered cock and Steve knows he won’t be able to maintain this composure for much longer. His eyes stay locked on Eddie’s and he can see the exact moment that his mate deciphers his telegraphed movements—Eddie keens deep in his throat as a fresh rush of wetness pours out and dampens the chest hair between Steve’s own tits where his sternum is pressed against Eddie’s cunt. He finally drops his gaze and allows himself to take in the sight before him, the driving reason for propping Eddie up at this angle with hands fisted in the blankets: fresh, creamy milk pooled in the hollow of Eddie’s belly button.
Love Grows - G, WIP @matchingbatbites
tags: teen dad steve, friends to lovers, slow burn, babysitter eddie
The rumors have been flying for weeks. It only took one cheerleader to see Steve Harrington out and about with a baby and soon enough the news was all over the school. Nevermind that no one else has even seen said baby, just the one accusation is enough to send the rumor mill into production. It's something that had piqued Eddie's interest, but he quickly attributed it to teenagers spreading drama, a fiction created for their own entertainment. That is, until the day Harrington shows up to school with the baby.
you've got a way with words & i'm all ears - E, series, WIP @infinite-orangepeel
tags: dom/sub, dirty talk, feminization, blow jobs, role play, first time
“-and, you’re witty. You always make people laugh with your jokes. You’re quick on your feet. Obviously, I’ve never been in bed with you, but I’d bet you could dirty talk me under the table.”  Oh, Jesus Fucking Christ–under the table, on the table, next to the table, through the table… “Look, I’m flattered,” Eddie throws a hand over his chest to emphasize his point, “And, I won’t lie, my past lovers have spoken highly of my ability to talk my way around the bedroom. I’m just still not sure what you’re asking me to do? I can’t, like, coach you.”  Steve sips his beer again–a longer pull of the liquid than before–as if he’s drawing the courage to say the next part straight from the can. Likely, he is.  “Well, that’s the thing,” Steve earnestly meets Eddie’s gaze, “Maybe you can.” “What, you want me to wear a whistle around my neck and yell out pointers from the sidelines, while you fuck her?” Eddie laughs bitterly and chugs the rest of his own beer, biting back the pain of that image, “Not happening, man. No way.” Or, Steve needs a lesson in dirty talking to try to impress a girl & he wants Eddie to to be his teacher
Walk 'Em Like a Dog, Bitch - E, 6k, complete GonzoTheGreat
tags: dom/sub, collaring, breeding kink
The whine he let out was pitiful, if he cared he would have been a little embarrassed. “Please.” His hands were splayed on Eddie’s chest, like he wanted to keep him there. He wanted-- needed-- to feel wanted. And Eddie? Eddie supplied in abundance. “Oh sweetheart. Do you want me to make you feel good?”
Picnic Table Paradise - E, 2/2, complete VerumMortem
tags: semi-public sex, blow jobs, spit kink, praise kink
Eddie has established the picnic table behind the school as unapproachable. Thank god for that.
Since Prom - E, 8.6k, complete Dynamicpower
tags: miscommunication, idiot4idiot, touch starved steve, getting together
"Eddie's not my boyfriend." "You've been dating since prom." She said it so matter-of-factly. The sky was blue, the world was round, Steve and Eddie had been dating since prom. OR Eddie gives Steve his vest on prom night. Despite Eddie becoming increasingly more affectionate towards him, the significance of it doesn't occur to Steve until weeks later.
you can almost taste it - E, 26.8k, complete crybaby
tags: modern au, daddy kink, mommy kink, selfcest, foursome, dom/sub
"So…how do you want to do this? Mouths, hands, or do you wanna fuck?" The other Steve gulps. "I mean, I’ve never fucked a guy, but... I'd like to try." "I can definitely fuck you if you want, but first, if you’re into it, I kinda, really want you to pick me up and fuck me against a wall." alternate versions of steve keep showing up in their house, and there's only one way to get rid of them (hint: it's sex)
These Days are Long - E, 4k, complete thankyouplease
tags: daddy kink, collars, light bdsm, soft dom eddie
Steve has a terrible job working as an assistant for an entitled asshole. After a long, horrible day of taking abuse and running himself ragged, he just wants his daddy to take care of him.
Uptown Girl - E, 9.7k, complete GonzoTheGreat
tags: daddy kink, collars, valentines day, mommy kink, lingerie, dom/sub
It's Valentine's Day and Steve has been planning his gift for quite some time, hopefully Eddie will love it. And hopefully it'll get him what he wants.
Try Another Angle? - E, 8/8, complete starfishsquish
tags: 90s au, pornstar au, pining, lesbian nancy, stancy as pornstars, background steddie
Nancy is the bombshell of the 90's porn scene. Popular, poised, and pretty, she's unstoppable. What will happen when her ex (and her co-star) brings in a new hire? She's cute. She's funny, and awkward, like a baby deer. Nancy doesn't like it.
don't tell me you're bi - T, 2.5k, complete starsdontsleep
tags: misunderstandings, gay disaster eddie, getting together, fluff
Steve comes out as bisexual and Eddie is certain that it's the end of the world and a ticket to heartbreak. Robin thinks he's an oblivious idiot.
take the edge off - E, series, complete @toburnup | adure
tags: hair pulling, sexual tension, roommates, orgasm denial
What's the harm in a little casual edging between roommates?
i'll bring you flowers (in the pouring rain) - T, 6.8k, complete thismomentintime
tags: misunderstandings, fluff and angst, angst with a happy ending
"You don't need to pretend. You don't need to bring me flowers. You don't need to take care of me when I'm sick. You don't owe me anything, alright? You can go home." Or: Steve thinks Eddie is his boyfriend. Eddie thinks Steve is still the asshole he used to be. Mistakes are made and lessons are learned.
To Love A Monster (under the bed) - E, 7.7k, complete AlexanderPeterson
tags: monster eddie, breeding kink, breath play
When he was little, Steve Harrington never believed in monsters under the bed. In the winter of 1986 he learned differently. Or: “The One Where Steve Harrington Gets Railed By The Monster Under His Bed”
heavy is the head - E, 3.7k, complete phoeniceae
tags: rimming, exhibitionism, quiet sex
What Steve wants… it’s not as if they’ve never done it. They’ve just never done it like that. And they sure as shit haven’t done it with Wayne Douglas Munson sitting in the very next room, only the low hum of the TV to drown out every deafening pound of Eddie’s heart. He’s still staring, heart going double time. Doesn’t budge an inch. Steve lifts one perfectly arched brow. Goddamn it. So, so stupid.
open up your lovin' arms (I want some) - T, 2.8k, complete @legitcookie
tags: pining, fluff, getting together, steve has a decent mom
Steve gets his wisdom teeth removed, Eddie's there to help, and a secret (or two) is said
here i have found some piece of mind - E, 7/7, complete @steves-strapcollection | @gerrystamour
tags: AKA MY FAVORITE FIC EVER!!!!!!, transmasc steve, rockstar eddie, platonic hellcheer, miscommunication, love confessions, modern au, masturbation (like... a lot. it's fantastic), barebacking, steve has a good mom
ger's specific tag: eddie fingers both of steve's holes a lil bit, bc when ur bf has two holes u gotta treat them right
Steve Harrington works at a hotel in Chicago, responsible for making and managing reservations for groups of all kinds: corporate, tours, entertainment, you name it. When some famous metal band signs a contract for rooms three months ahead of their concert date, Steve is swept into a flirtatious back-and-forth with someone he as been led to believe is the tour manager, Chris Cunningham, and quickly finds himself falling for the man... Eddie Munson is a rockstar still riding the high of Corroded Coffin finally, finally making it big, but with the fame he finds himself almost lonelier than he was before. So when he answers his tour manager's phone and a nice guy with a cute voice starts calling him "Chris," Eddie plays along and maybe gets a bit carried away... NOW WITH ART
Honesty Is The Best Policy - M, 1.3k, complete beetlesandstars
tags: truth serum, love confessions, first kiss
“What are you looking at?” Eddie asks. “Your mouth.” “Why?” “You have a nice mouth,” Steve says through gritted teeth. (After being dosed with a truth serum, Steve and Eddie have an interesting conversation in the car.)
Keep You Always - E, 5/5, complete novemberthorne
tags: omega eddie, omega steve, transitioning, alpha steve, gender dysphoria, sub top steve, dom bottom eddie
"God, I'm so lucky. Are you still gonna let me take care of you as an alpha, baby?" He emphasizes the question by squeezing Steve's waist. Steve just giggles. "Of course. Told you. Like to feel kept." And oh, he knows that tone. He knows the sound, he knows the taste of it, because it's what he usually licks out of Steve's mouth when he's soaring. When Eddie's treated him so good he's gone a little loopy from it. It's his favorite thing. "Good, because I like keeping you."
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Text
The Ironies of Life - Rooster
Pairing: Rooster/ Fem!OC (Naomi)
Word Count: 2.6k
Warnings: (Unplanned) Pregnancy; Exes; Emotional Angst; Brief Vomiting; Rooster Being a bit of a Dick; Named Female OC (Naomi), but No Physical Descriptions
This work, all of my other works, and my entire blog are 18+ Only.
Naomi is referenced as being a woman and she was previously an officer in the Navy. But otherwise there is no description of her physical features or her surname, so fill in as you wish.
Summary: A few weeks after breaking up with her long-term boyfriend because he wouldn't commit to marriage and kids, Naomi finds out that she's pregnant with his baby.
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
Master List
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Naomi had several big plans for her thirties.
Being alone, pregnant with her ex-boyfriend’s baby, and with her head in a toilet was not on the list. And neither was being blocked by her ex-boyfriend, Lieutenant Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw, on every single possible messaging service, so that she couldn’t actually get in contact with him.
Yeah, that was nowhere on the list of her plans.
And the stupidest part about the whole situation was that she was the one who broke up with him. If she’d just waited a month longer, maybe she’d still have Bradley beside her, holding back her hair right now. But that wasn’t exactly a guarantee either.
After all, the whole reason behind her decision to break up with her boyfriend of six years was because he refused to commit to a future that included marriage and kids. They had a fight about it. And then another fight. And another. And then another. And then Naomi ended things because they just didn’t want the same things in life and Bradley was never going to end it.
So, she broke up with him. And she was clearly doing so well with her post-break up life.
Naomi spat what was left in her mouth before slowly lowering herself to sit on her bathroom floor. She rested her weight against the tub and pressed a cool towel to her head to try and control her nausea. After she was sure that she wouldn’t throw up again, Naomi flushed the toilet, slowly got to her feet, and made her way out of her bathroom.
Sitting on her bed, Naomi pulled out her phone and tried to call Bradley again. But apparently, she was still blocked. Sighing, Naomi tossed her phone onto her bed and held her head in her hands to try and compose herself. She let out a calming breath and laid down. Resting a hand on her abdomen, Naomi took another deep breath.
“Looks like it’s still just you and me, Little Bean,” she murmured tiredly. 
She was on the verge of entering her second trimester and her baby bump was just starting to form. Any kind of loose shirt that she wore still hid it, but she knew that she would quickly reach a point in her pregnancy where baggy clothing wouldn’t do the trick anymore.
She wouldn’t be able to hide a baby forever. And Naomi just hoped that Bradley would talk to her soon, before he learned about her pregnancy through someone else.
But part of her kicked herself for being so focused on telling Bradley.
He very clearly didn't want children and he very clearly hated her after she broke up with him. And it wasn't like she expected him to want to get back together and raise a baby that he never wanted in the first place. Naomi accepted that Bradley didn't want to be a dad and that forcing someone to be a parent who didn't want to be one was wrong and it would only create more problems in the future.
So, why was she so hellbent on finding him to tell him the news?
She wasn't entirely sure to be quite honest.
She just felt like after spending six years of their together, she owed him the truth. She owed him an in-person heads up. And maybe she just needed some closure too. Maybe she just needed to hear him say it one last time and then she could move on with this next stage of her life. Maybe she just needed confirmation for herself and for her Little Bean, who would inevitably ask about their father one day.
But regardless, she needed to find Rooster. And she was quickly running out of time with that project.
~~~~~
Naomi tried to not stare at the happy couple that left the obstetric office holding hands and absolutely giddy about the ultrasound they carried with them. And she really tried to not picture Bradley sitting beside her in the office. It would only make sure sick and anxious and doctors offices already made her nervous enough.
Another two months had passed and she was still nowhere closer to getting in touch with Bradley. Last she heard, he was out somewhere in the Atlantic, but he must have marked her email address as spam or otherwise blocked her because he hadn’t responded to any of her messages.
It was still just her and the Little Bean, who wasn’t so little anymore.
“Naomi?” one of the medical assistants called, standing in the doorway.
Naomi quickly gathered her things and followed the medical assistant back into an exam room. After a few minutes and some screening questions, Naomi was staring at the photo of her baby wiggling around on the ultrasound screen.
“Measurements are all normal and right on track,” the obstetrician stated, typing in notes as she moved the ultrasound wand around. “And the baby’s heartbeat is strong and normal. You have a healthy baby on your hands.” The obstetrician turned back to Naomi and smiled kindly. “Did you want to know what the baby’s gender is?”
“No, that’s alright,” Naomi replied quietly, forcing a smile. “I can wait a few more months.”
Her brain rationalized that it wouldn’t be a crime to find out without Bradley there—he hadn’t responded to any of her messages, including a handwritten letter—but Naomi still wanted to wait.
The obstetrician took some final measurements and sent Naomi out with two freshly printed ultrasound photos in hand. Naomi made her next appointment and headed out of the office. Just as she reached her car, her phone buzzed in her pocket. Pulling it out, Naomi glanced down to see a text message from one of her old friends from her time in the Navy.
I know that you’ve been asking around about Rooster. I just thought that I should give you a heads up that he was at the Hard Deck in Miramar last night.
Her friend sent a photo along with the text and Naomi’s breath caught in her throat when she recognized that particular Hawaiian shirt and matching mustache.
What was he doing in Miramar? He was supposed to be out in the Atlantic for two more months.
Naomi quickly shot her friend a text back, thanking her for the tip, before climbing into her car. She managed to get out of work on the earlier side and rushed back to her apartment. Stepping inside, Naomi didn’t break her confident stride until she was sitting in front of her computer.
She didn’t know how long Bradley would be in Miramar for, but it was the closest thing that she had to a lead in months. And she wasn’t going to waste that opportunity.
~~~~~
“Do you mind grabbing some pretzels?” Phoenix asked Bob, staring down at her list. “The spears, not the normal ones.”
The Dagger Squad decided to have a beach day after the mission and divided up the work. Phoenix, Bob, Payback, and Fanboy took the job of buying the snacks and non-alcoholic drinks. Fanboy and Payback were probably still debating whether red or green grapes were better and Phoenix wanted to speed up the process.
“Yeah, sure. We want chips or anything else in that aisle?” Bob asked, causing Phoenix to shrug.
“Probably. Fanboy would know better than me, but I know that Harvard really wanted the pretzel spears for whatever reason.”
“I’ll see what they have.”
“I’ll be there in a second,” Phoenix promised, earning a nod from Bob.
He walked down the aisle and started looking for the pretzel spears. Bob glanced over at the noticeably pregnant woman struggling to reach something up on one of the top shelves, and well, he couldn’t not offer to help her. He was Bob Floyd, after all.
“Do you need some help?” Bob offered to the woman. She took a step back from the shelf and shot him a small smile.
“If you wouldn’t mind,” she replied sheepishly.
“Just the blue bag?”
“Yeah, just that one.”
Bob reached up and grabbed the bag on the top shelf before holding it out to the woman. She took it with a thankful smile and placed it into her small cart.
“Thank you so much for the help.”
“Of course,” Bob replied with a polite nod. “Do you need help with anything else?”
“No, I should be all set. Thank you again.”
“Not a problem.”
Naomi nodded back to Bob before heading towards the checkout counters. She stopped at the grocery store to grab a few quick snacks before starting her search for Bradley. The Little Bean was very hungry and needy these days and she wanted to be prepared.
But as Naomi walked down the aisle, Phoenix turned into the exact same aisle. The two women stopped in their respective tracks, staring at each other incredulously.
Naomi really shouldn’t have been surprised. Phoenix was in the photo of Bradley that she’d received from her friend, so, of course, Phoenix would be in Miramar too. But Naomi wasn’t planning on running into Phoenix in the middle of a random grocery store. And Phoenix, meanwhile, was focused on Naomi’s very noticeably baby bump.
“Fuck,” Phoenix whispered out, blinking rapidly.
It all made sense now. Naomi’s sudden disappearance from social media. All of her random and quite honestly incessant attempts to reconnect with Rooster over the last few months.
Fucking hell, Phoenix told Rooster to call Naomi back.
“Phoenix,” Naomi greeted the pilot, clearly nervous and unprepared for the interaction. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright,” Phoenix replied, still shocked.
“You guys know each other?” Bob asked curiously, walking over with a bag of pretzel spears.
“We do,” Phoenix told her WSO before turning back to Naomi. “Does Rooster know that you’re here?”
“No, I tried to call him, but I’m pretty sure that he still has me blocked,” Naomi stated quietly, shifting her weight on her feet.
“Probably,” Phoenix agreed, just as quietly.
“I actually came to town because I needed to talk to him,” Naomi continued as her heart started to beat out of her chest. “About . . .”
Naomi gestured to her baby bump, which was already out and prominent enough that she couldn’t hide it from Phoenix even if she wanted to try.
Bob dropped his bag of pretzels.
~~~~~
Rooster was setting up a beach umbrella when his phone began to ring in his back pocket. Straightening up, Rooster checked his phone to see that Phoenix was calling him.
“Hey! You need help carrying stuff down to the beach?”
“No, I'm not at the beach,” Phoenix explained, eerily soft. “But the guys should be there soon.”
“Why did they ditch you?” Rooster asked, suddenly concerned.
“I sent them ahead. Something came up.”
“What? Are you okay?”
“When was the last time that you talked to Naomi?” Phoenix questioned Rooster, getting straight to the point.
Rooster’s blood went cold at the mention of his ex-girlfriend. The woman who quite literally shattered his heart in his chest when she broke up with him five or so months ago. And maybe he wasn’t over it yet. But watching a six-year relationship implode overnight was a rather jarring experience and Rooster felt that he was entitled to be a little petty about it.
“Nat, why the fuck are you talking about Naomi?”
“When was the last time that you talked with her?” Phoenix insisted, ignoring Rooster’s squawk.
“When she broke up with me,” he deadpanned, starting to pace around. He ignored the curious and concerned glances from the other Daggers. “There? You happy, Nat? Now why are you bringing up my ex all of a sudden?”
There was a brief pause, but then Phoenix’s voice cut through the line with her usual crisp confidence.
“She’s in Miramar, Rooster. And she needs to talk to you.”
“Why is she in Miramar?” Rooster asked, furrowing his eyebrows.
“Because she needs to talk to you.”
“She could have called or texted me.”
“Don’t you still have her blocked?” Phoenix questioned, a bit of annoyance seeping into her tone.
“Well . . . you know what I mean, Nat,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Why is she here? Did you talk to her?”
“I’m with her right now.”
“What!? Right now?”
“Yes, Rooster. We’re at a coffee shop a few blocks from the beach.” Phoenix paused, most likely weighing her options before adding, “You really need to talk to her, Rooster. And I’m not fucking around. Don’t make me drag your ass down here.”
“She made it clear that she didn’t see a future with me, Nat. Why do I want to deal with that again? Why should I deal with that again?”
“I know that she broke your heart. I know that you felt completely blindsided and betrayed and every other negative emotion when she broke up with you.” Phoenix trailed off, and Rooster could picture her stern expression clearly. “But you need to talk to her. Now.”
“Why?”
“It shouldn’t come from me,” Phoenix stated seriously. “Look, I can give her my phone and you two can chat. But you need to talk to her, Rooster. And I’m not fucking around. And I know that you'll regret it if you don't talk to her now.”
Rooster sighed, rubbing his face tiredly with clear aggravation.
“Fine. Put her on.”
“Thank you,” Phoenix sighed, sounding relieved.
“Bradley?” Naomi’s voice broke through a moment later.
“Yes?” Rooster snipped, failing at hiding his annoyance.
“How are you?” she began softly.
“Fine. Why are you in Miramar?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“We shouldn’t have this conversation over the phone,” Naomi stated, standing her ground on that part. “I have some news to share with you and I . . . I need to do it in person.”
“Why?”
“You’ll understand when you get here.”
Rooster let out an annoyed curse under his breath and rubbed his face, clearly aggravated. He stared up at the sky for a second before finally responding to her.
“Fine. Where are you?”
“The Green Café,” Naomi replied, sounding relieved. “It’s about four or five blocks from the beach.”
“Okay.”
Rooster hung up the phone and tucked it into his back pocket. Grabbing his bag, Rooster ignored everyone’s curious gazes and turned for the parking lot.
“What’s got your panties all in a twist?” Hangman called after Rooster.
Ignoring Hangman, Rooster flipped him off as he trudged through the sand. He walked up the steps to the boardwalk and spotted Bob with Payback and Fanboy pulling into the parking lot in Phoenix’s car. Rooster ignored their looks, which seemed to be shocked and nervous more than anything else, and headed straight for his car.
The drive to the Green Café was simple and Rooster quickly parked before heading over to the outdoor seating. Phoenix and Naomi were chatting at one of the tables and Phoenix quickly spotted him. Rooster shot Phoenix an annoyed look before turning to Naomi.
But when Naomi turned around, Rooster literally froze in place. His breath left his body and his keys clattered down onto the sidewalk as his eyes focused on the very noticeable baby bump that Naomi was now sporting.
That wasn’t there the last time that he saw her.
“I’m going to give the two of you some privacy,” Phoenix announced, which did little to quell Rooster’s shock. “Have fun.”
Phoenix walked around the table and over to Rooster. She quickly bent down to snatch up his keys and kept walking towards where he parked the Bronco. And Rooster was still too stunned at the fact that Naomi was sitting right there in front of him and pregnant to grab his keys back.
Naomi offered Rooster a small, awkward smile. Her hands trembled with nerves as she smoothed her hands over her bump.
“Hi, Bradley.”
Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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