#I babysit him on Fridays sometimes

[aliidarling]

hey alii it’s your fav riooo!! :3 anyways no more silliness.. can you write where your getting stalked by Michael and he breaks in and fucks the brains out of u, oh and has a size kink/bondage? thank you i love u and your fics!!! 🩷

enjoy the silence

MICHEAL MYERS x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: myers decides to break in while you’re babysitting your friends younger brother

warnings: smut, p in v, size kink, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism, blood

reminder reader doesn’t know the myers iconic mask because this takes place the night of his return in the og movie :)

nsfww content below !!

this years halloween wasn’t like last years, the year before and all the halloweens you’ve lived through. normally it was cheery, bright, with lots of candy and spooky costumes jumpscaring you at every corner. you’d always look forward for october 31st, the scariest day of the year.

your favorite day of the year. you were a horror fanatic, always binge watching horror movies and buying merchandise. friday the 13th was one of your favorite franchises, the slasher and gruesome scenes catching your eye from a young age. ever since then you’d always get excited at the mere mention of horror aspects.

you remembered years ago when the myers incident happened— when the perfect family down the block broke apart and crumbled into mere names you’d see on the newspaper. you were friends with the daughter, having a few classes with the upperclassmen which you two shared.

she was so sweet. always giving you pencils, helping you braid your hair, sometimes walking you home. she was too young to leave the earth. the reminders of that terrifying night rung in your head every halloween, slowly ruining the once colorful holiday for you.

now even fifteen years later, flashes of red and blue tainted the back of your mind as you sat on the couch of your best friends house. you had been ‘hired’ by your best friend to babysit his little brother. you didn’t mind— her brother, kilo, was a sweet boy. he was barely passing second grade, but you weren’t one to judge.

“you finish your homework, bud?” you ask the little boy who sat across from you. he looks up from his papers, crayons at his side with his papers covered in scribbles and his bad handwriting.

“almost!” he smiles, returning back to his homework and doodling. you hum and glance back at the movie playing in front of the two of you, the street lights illuminating the living room subtly through the blinds. you could hear the kids from the streets chatting, the giggling and the sounds of halloween night.

you hear a thud from the kitchen, making you frown. you pat the kids back and tell him to stay out, standing up and walking to the hallway. you enter the kitchen and look around, your eyes catching glimpse of a fallen plate on the ground. you shudder. your friend and her parents weren’t gonna be too happy with you about that.

“hey, kilo?” you call out, grabbing the broom and sweeping it up into a bag.

“yeah?” he calls back.

“i’ll let you keep your ipad in bed if you take the blame for me about this.” you hold up the bag of shredded glass sheepishly, trying to win over the little boy with the bats of your lashes. he hums in thought, tapping his chin before nodding eagerly.

you grin and give kilo a hair ruffle before ushering him up the stairs. he takes two stairs at a time before skipping into his room, the dark blue walls painted and his bed having star wars bedding. it was cute, you could tell his parents loved him.

“night night, kiddo. you need anything i’ll be downstairs, alright? i’m gonna be sleeping in your sisters room tonight.” you tell him gently, keeping up on your promise and handing him his ipad. he giggles and nods, quickly opening it up and ignoring every other word that drops from your mouth. you sigh and walk off, leaving the door open with a small crack. damn ipad kids.

the next hour is calm. you’re downstairs, handing out candy while catching up with your shows in her television. you’re happy she has cable. you’re quite comfortable in her house, you’ve been over so many times a part of you considers it your second home.

the sound of another thud grabs your attention. at first you think maybe kilo was being kilo and caused some ruckus, but you quickly realize it came from downstairs. you get up from your couch and walk towards the kitchen once again, blinking dumbly at the sight of the pantry door wide open. you swore you closed it earlier.

“this is creepy.” you grumble to yourself, stepping forward to slowly close it. once the click echoes, you stand there for another moment, a part of you expecting a loud jumpscare. the silence is anticlimactic and you sigh tiredly, dragging yourself back to the couch.

slumping back against the cushion, you wrap yourself in the throw blanket they have and hum, focusing your eyes on the television in front of you again. the streets have quieted down, leaving only a few determined trick or treaters that you’ve started to ignore when they ring. you’re too lazy to get up.

another few long minutes pass before you hear footsteps down the hall. you stiffen immediately and sit up, peeking over the top of the couch down the hall. no way kilo made those footsteps— they were too heavy.

fuck. did someone break in? it’s halloween night, you wouldn’t be surprised. lots of people always engaged in reckless behavior this night of the year.

“hello?” you call out, sitting up sheepishly and hugging the blanket around you. you peek down the dark, luring hall and shiver. you gulp down your nerves and let out another call. “kilo? i thought i told you to stay in your room, kid.”

silence answers you.

it’s creepy. too creepy. you don’t like this anymore. you want to go upstairs and check on kilo, make sure he’s okay and maybe sleep next to him in his bed. you were creeped out and wanted to make sure he was safe mostly.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you turn back forward, preparing to stand up to make your debut upstairs. you’re met with the terrifying sight of a man over six feet standing over you, his mask staring down at you emotionless.

you don’t scream. no. you stare up at him with a gaping expression, mouth open and eyes wide in terror. your heart skips several beats and your entire world goes radio silent, a ringing noise in your ears. you were paralyzed. paralyzed from fear. you don’t know what to do, your fingers suddenly feel like twenty pounds and your throat is dry.

oh fuck. he’s gonna kill you now, move dumbass!

another long second passes before you quickly move, sitting up and trying to jump over the back of the couch. he’s blocking the front, and his hand comes down to grab your shirt and manhandle you down onto your back again. the couch is a pull out so you’re thrashing around with your legs stretched out, fist throwing weak punches. he easily holds your wrist down and stares silently down at you.

tears fill your eyes, trembling in fear. you try and muster up the courage to speak but each words stays on the tip of your tongue, wavering shakily in your head.

“who are you?!” you finally managed to to shriek, fist clenched and your wrists being held by his large hands. his fingers were thick and long, his body well over six feet with a large amount of mass. the size difference was laughable.

his heavy breathing echoes in your ears, taunting you. he doesn’t answer your question, instead he slowly picks up his knife and drags it down your neck. the tip of his knife catches into your skin lightly and you whimper at the feeling. it stings.

his knife is dragged from your neck to your collarbone, tugging aimlessly at your collar. his movements hold no rush, instead ease and stealth. his mask is staring down at you as you bite your lip, muffling your pained sniffles as the knife nicks at your collarbone.

“why are you doing this?” you croak. he doesn’t answer.

the knife along your skin continues its journey down your stomach until it drifts along your pajama shorts, slowly creeping underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin. he’s inhuman, not making a single noise and instead drinking in each of your cries and reactions to his touch.

his grip around your wrists stiffen, gripping you tighter and holding you down firmer onto the couch. your hips squirm weakly before you’re shut up by the small nick he delivers to your soft skin. a silent warning.

the knife against your neck and the rope around your wrists is a reminder to stay quiet and still as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. it’s thick and girthy, the size belittling all the other boys you’ve ever touched. it hurts, the feeling of having your walls getting stretched by his mushroom tip.

a small sob leaves at the feeling, your hands tugging weakly at the rope, pretty tears covering your flushed cheeks. a burn in your pussy aches your lower body, thighs tensing up as he inches his way deeper and deeper. your cunt squeezes him tight and he doesn’t give any reaction other then his fists grabbing the cushion around you tighter, the fabric wrinkling.

“t-that hurts, hey— stop, slow down at least,” you plead pitifully. your voice is smaller then intended, your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as the thickness has you going silent. you don’t have the bravery to complain any further, not after he pushes his knife a little closer to your neck. you go silent immediately.

the feeling of him sitting inside you still is only temporary before he slowly pushes out, leaving just the tip, before slamming back inside. he’s brutal with the way he buries himself deeply, making sure every centimeter of himself is squeezed tight. a moan you do your best to muffle escapes your throat.

he repeats the action again, slowly pulling out only to slam himself deeper again. somehow his tip presses against your g-spot, making you clench down and gasp. his hands grasp your waist, the difference in his fingers and your torso noticeable— he can almost fit his entire two hands around your stomach.

you were nothing compared to this big, burly man. not with the way he was holding your waist down and slamming his cock in and out, knife discarded by your side. your eyes roll back as you moan, lips quivering and producing noises you can no longer stop. not when he was this good at fucking you.

more slams of his hips had you clenching down, crying out for him to slow down and give you mercy. he was mean, battering your insides and plummeting his cock inside, like he didn’t wanna go a single second without being sheathed inside your warm cunt. he can feel the way your walls squeeze him and a low grunt escapes his throat, squeezing your waist tight.

one if his hands grabs your neck and squeezes, not gentle at all. you can feel your air ways get cut off and your eyes go wide. and your pussy tightens even more, making him cum deep inside. his load is thick and hot, painting your insides the creamy white color. it’s not surprising you immediately cum afterwards, the penetration and the warm stickiness making you cry loudly and release in his cock.

he slowly pulls his cock out and watches as the cream pie leaks out of your pussy, staining the couch fabric a dusty white. you shudder at the feeling of emptiness after being used to being stuffed full. a small hiccup leaves you, trembling still.

you gasp as one of his hands grab your thighs, holding it still while his hand slowly grabs the knife beside you. you stiffen in fear and shake your head, whimpering and pleading.

“please don’t— i was good— don’t hurt me—“ you’re shut up by him squeezing your thigh hard, a silent warning. you shut up, muffling your hiccups and cries. you watch as he slowly drags his knife to your meaty thigh and presses down with a little bit of pressure, making little lines. small droplets of blood drip down your thigh and you want to vomit.

he tilts his head down at you, silently wondering so many things. why were you crying? if you looked closely, he had marked his name. that was no reason to cry.

[willowsnook]

Act my age

ham, steak, salami + veggies with white bread pleasee thank you 💞

Lewis Hamilton x gf!reader

The age gap between you and Lewis was a topic that the F1 media couldn’t seem to get over, even though you’d been together for two years. The 15-year difference was all they talked about, but you tried to brush off the chatter.

As an associate attorney practicing corporate law in Monaco, you felt you had the "maturity" box checked for dating Lewis by media standards. Still, recently the constant expectation to act “older” started to weigh on you. You were 25, and sometimes you just wanted to be you—without the shadow of “younger girlfriend” following your every move.

Feeling stressed, you called your friends and planned a night out. Lewis kissed you goodbye with a smile, promising to pick you up if needed and reminding you to stay out of trouble. A few hours and several drinks later, you found yourself on the dance floor, lost in the music. Taking a break, you stared at yourself in the restroom mirror for a little too long, realizing it was probably time to call Lewis.

“Lewis!” you chimed when he answered.

“Hi, sweetheart. Ready to come home?” he asked, amused.

“Yes, please,” you slurred. “Can we get Taco Bell?”

“That’s terrible for you.”

“Oh, live a little!” you teased, sensing his playful eyeroll over the phone. True to his word, he arrived in minutes. As you slid into the car, you leaned over to give him a soft kiss.

“Hi,” you whispered, and he gently brushed his thumb over your cheek.

“Hi, I missed you,” he murmured, making you giggle.

“It was only a couple of hours,” you reminded him.

“Still too long,” he replied with a smile.

“Yeah, it was good to relieve some stress.” 

The look Lewis gave you after you said that made you smirk, knowing he had another way to relax once you got home.

------------------------------------------------

The Friday before the Mexico GP, you were in the McLaren garage with Lando while Pato took the wheel for FP1. Lando was one of your closest friends in the paddock, and with you both living in Monaco and being around the same age, you bonded quickly. Caught up in a playful 1v1 soccer match, you giggled as you nutmegged Lando, who tackled you in a dramatic attempt to stop you.

You landed awkwardly, wincing as you hit the ground, and Lando immediately looked worried.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” he asked, glancing around nervously. “Lewis is going to kill me.”

Crossing your arms, you raised an eyebrow. “Are you more worried about Lewis than me?”

“Uh, yes,” he admitted without hesitation, making you laugh.

Later, back in the Mercedes garage, you waited for Lewis to finish his interviews. As notifications began flooding your phone, you noticed you’d been tagged in a video from one of Lewis’s interviews:

Reporter: “So, Lewis, nice to see Y/N out here supporting you this weekend. Interesting video of her and Lando Norris playing football.”

Lewis: “Yeah,” he chuckled, “it’s like I’m babysitting a kid sometimes.”

Embarrassment hit you like a wave, and before you knew it, you had quietly excused yourself and called for a ride back to the hotel.

Back in the hotel room, you tried to calm yourself down in the shower, but when you stepped out, you found Lewis waiting, worried as he noticed your puffy eyes.

“Sweetheart, what’s wrong?” he asked gently.

“Just thought you could use a break from babysitting,” you replied sharply.

He flinched, realizing the hurt his words had caused. “I didn’t mean it that way, Y/N,” he tried, but you shook your head.

“How else could you have meant it?” you asked, folding your arms defensively.

He sighed. “I just see Lando as... still a kid. And when you’re with him, it makes you look that way too.”

“You do know Lando and I are the same age, right?” you countered. “If you didn’t want to ‘babysit,’ maybe you should’ve dated someone your own age.”

“Don’t say that,” he said, pulling you into his arms. Tears slid down your cheeks as he held you tightly. “You’re the only one I want to come home to. Always.”

Exhausted, you nodded, letting the conversation drop as you both went to bed.

The next day, you still felt out of sorts but kept quiet to avoid distracting Lewis before qualifying. As he was stopped for a quick Sky Sports interview, you hung back with Lando, who shot you a sympathetic look.

“Rough night?” he asked gently, and you nodded.

“This isn’t your fault, Lando,” you assured him. “He shouldn’t have said it.”

Lando’s expression shifted, and following his gaze, you saw Lewis speaking with the interviewer, his hand resting on her lower back as he laughed at something she said. A wave of anger and hurt rushed over you.

“Y/N…” Lando started, but you brushed him off.

“I’m leaving.”

Storming out of the paddock you were pissed. You knew Lewis would think nothing of it and expect you not to either and to “take the high road.” But you were so fucking over that. Mixed with yesterday’s emotions you were feeling slightly crazy and you weren’t going to contain it. 

Calling Lewis’s assistant, you made her book you a flight home immediately and went to the hotel to get your stuff. By the time you reached there, you had seen countless pictures of Lewis and the reporter cozy together, so naturally, why not print them off for him to frame? You were a woman on a mission in the hotel business room printing these pictures. Spreading them out on your bed, you snapped a pic to send to your sister, who called you insane and then left.

Instead of Monaco, you took a shorter flight to New York, where Lewis kept a penthouse. You settled in, ordered takeout, and watched the race on Sunday from the penthouse, glad to see him finish P4 but still seething.

You weren’t expecting to see Lewis until tomorrow, so you went to bed around 11, only to be jolted awake at 1am by someone pounding on the door.

"Just let me in," you heard Lewis call out.

Groggy, you opened it to find him standing there, exhausted, dressed in a Mercedes hoodie and sweats.

He dropped his bags on the living room couch and crossed his arms, facing you. “Nice touch with the photos,” he said, his voice steady.

“I thought they were fitting,” you shot back, arms crossed.

Lewis sighed. “You know that wasn’t anything. She isn’t you.”

“Who cares that I know that?” You yelled. “You are mine! Not hers! And you know what I wanted to do? I wanted to march over there and rip her off you by her hair.” 

Lewis’ eyes widened but you kept going. 

“I’m done pretending that I’m too secure with myself to care about this shit because, guess what? I do fucking care! I do care when girls throw themselves at you all the time. So yeah, I printed off those pictures for you, and yeah, I knew that was crazy, but if that’s what I have to do to get an emotional reaction out of you, then I’ll do it every time.” 

After your outburst, the room felt charged with a heavy, vulnerable silence. Lewis looked at you, his face softened by something between understanding and regret. He took a deep breath, then stepped forward, gently wrapping his arms around you. You could feel the warmth of his embrace as he held you close, grounding you.

“Y/N,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and tender, “I’m so sorry. I never, ever want you to feel like you can’t be yourself with me. I love you—exactly as you are. I didn’t realize how much pressure you’ve felt to fit into… some idea of what everyone else thinks you should be. I don’t want that for us.”

You looked up at him, eyes still glassy but softening as his words sank in. “Sometimes I feel like I have to prove I’m ‘mature enough’ to be with you,” you admitted quietly. “Like I have to be some version of me that fits everyone else’s expectations.”

He sighed, holding you even tighter. “Y/N, you’re perfect just as you are. I love you, not some ‘ideal’ of you. I love the person who’s goofy, carefree, strong… the person who prints off photos just to make a point,” he chuckled, squeezing your hand. “You don’t have to change or hold anything back for me.”

A small, relieved smile crept onto your face, and you let yourself melt into his embrace. “Thank you,” you whispered. “I just needed to hear that.”

He nodded, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “I want you to feel free to be yourself with me. I’m here because I want all of you, Y/N—all the real, unfiltered parts of you.”

You closed your eyes, taking in his words, letting them wrap around you like a promise. Finally, you looked up at him with a new lightness, feeling the tension in your chest ease.

“Alright,” you said softly, a hint of playfulness returning to your tone. “Then get ready, because the real me definitely wants Taco Bell at 2 a.m.”

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head with a fond smile. “Fine. But we’re getting fries, too.”

With your hand in his, you both headed out the door, leaving behind the weight of everyone else’s expectations. It was just you and Lewis—real, imperfect, and perfect for each other.

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST 💕

Chapter 16

Progress was coming along nicely in the nursery. So far, Rebecca had successfully kept him from seeing the room’s transformation. She was confident that it would be ready for the big reveal on Friday. Brian also seemed to progressing with the hypnotic conditioning. She planned on really testing his suggestibility after she showed him his new nursery.

She wondered how Brian was faring at work. I wonder if Samantha has revealed our conversation yet. Speak of the devil. Her phone buzzed with a text from Samantha:

            Good morning. I wanted you to know that your baby boy soaked his diapers right in front of me. You have done such an amazing job regressing him.

            Rebecca: Oh I am so happy. I can’t thank you enough for your help. I feel so much better that he has someone to watch over him at work.

            Samantha: It’s really no problem. He is just precious when he is little. You must let me babysit him at home sometime.

            Rebecca: I think that can be arranged.

            Samantha: I never in my wildest dreams imagined changing a grown man’s diapers. But now that I have, I think if I ever get a man of my own, he will have to return to diapers.

Rebecca smiled. Not only had she gotten her baby, but it seems that a new friendship was budding.

After Samantha changed his diaper, Brian knew that she was never again going to view him as her boss, but he hoped she would at least pretend for appearance’s sake. She filled up his sippy cup with apple juice and set it on his desk. “Ok sweet boy, its time to be a big boy for a while and get some work done. I will check on you later. And remember its ok to use your diaper, but just come get me if you want to try and use the potty,” she said much like a mother to a toddler.

Brian blushed again at the mention of his diapers. She left the office and closed the door behind her. How on earth could he possibly focus? He realized he was still sucking on the pacifier and he quickly removed it. If these two women could regress him with such ease at any moment, was he now permanently bound to diapers. He had fantasized so many times about being reduced to a helpless baby. Now that it was happening and he questioned if this is what he wanted. But he feared it was too late. He was going to have to accept and trust that they would keep him safe.

He tried to act like everything was normal. Now that he was alone, his adult clarity started to return. He needed to start brainstorming how to market this new Babies R Us line. Brian always liked to sketch out ideas by hand whenever he was brainstorming. He even kept a whiteboard in his office for this very purpose. He went up to the board. His mind was blank. How could he ever have a mother’s perspective? He looked down at the sippy cup sitting on his desk. He brought it too his mouth and tasted the sweet juice. Maybe he couldn’t tap into the perspective of a mother, but he knew what it felt like to be a baby. Maybe not entirely, but then again, he was in a very thick diaper. He closed his eyes and tried to recall the feelings he had when his mommy was in control. In those moments, he didn’t think in words, but feelings and sensations. He opened the cap to the marker and started scribbling the feelings he experienced with his mommy: warmth, safety, trust, love, giggly. He kept scribbling across the board: cold, wet, hungry, scared, small, full, peaceful. He stared at the words he had scrawled out. He keyed in one word in particular: trust. He grabbed a red marker and drew a big circle around it.

Trust could be a nebulous word. It gets tossed around so much that it sometimes lost meaning. But with his recent experiences, it took on new meaning for him. When he was wet, he had to trust that his mommy would change him. When he felt scared, he had to trust that she would keep him safe. He thought about the night that this all started. By him agreeing to be her baby, he was entrusting her with his greatest vulnerability. Obviously, babies aren’t able to articulate what they are feeling, but who would know better as to what a baby was feeling: mothers. He still had a long way to go, but this exercise was getting the wheels turning.

Brian was so consumed with his work, he didn’t realize that half the morning had elapsed. He was so happy that he had been able to regain that focus. It gave him a glimmer of comfort that maybe he still in control of some things. Maybe he could be both a big boy and a baby. But then a rumble in his belly snatched his attention. He hadn’t had a bowel movement since Saturday. Perhaps his anxiety and nerves had bound him up. When he had played in diapers before this all began, he had never messed himself. It was one thing to wet, but he wasn’t willing to do that. He felt nervous about having to ask Samantha to go potty. He could just use his diaper, but having her change a messy diaper might be even more embarrassing. He looked back at the board. Trust. He had to put it to the test and trust that Samantha meant everything she said to him.

He peaked his head out the door, “Umm, can I see you for a moment?”

“Of course,” she smiled.

Inside the office, Brian started to have second thoughts about asking, but then another rumble in his belly made him find the courage to ask. “Ummm, I need to use the potty… I mean the restroom.”“Oh! Ok. Let me help you,” she was actually surprised that he came and asked. Brian started to unbutton his shirt. She playfully slapped his hand, “Uh uh uh baby, let me do that,” she chided him. After removing his shirt and pants, she pulled his onesie over his head, “Lay on the couch for me.” She undid the tapes of his diaper and set it aside. Fortunately, these diapers were refastenable. She then went through the trouble of redressing him. “Alright, I think you look acceptable to walk through the office. You don’t have any big boy undies, but I think you will be ok for a few minutes. When you get back, I will get you back in your diaper,” she said.

            “Thank you,” Brian said timidly.

            “Thank you what,” she said with one eye-brow raised.

            “Umm… thank you Auntie Samantha,” he said like a child that had just be scolded.

            She patted his bottom, “Off you go.”

After a few minutes he returned. Although he still struggled with his embarrassment, Samantha was helping him feel more at ease. Back in the office, she had Brian undressed once again. The haze of regression swept over him again as he stood before her in nothing but his birthday suit. His thumb made it to his mouth. “Lay down baby,” she cooed. She pulled out some wipes and proceeded to clean his bottom.

“But Aunfie Samanfa, I wiped myself after I went potty,” he said with his thumb still ensconced in his mouth.

“I know sweetie, but I just wanted to make sure that you are all clean,” she responded.

She rediapered him and got him dressed again. When he was finished, he started to “grow up.” He pulled his thumb from his mouth and blushed.

She placed her hand on his arm, “Brian what did I tell you. There is no need to feel embarrassed. Do you think if I was judging you that I would be standing here? I want you to feel comfortable to act as little as you want around me. Ok?”

“I know, its just hard. And if it makes you feel any better, I still get really nervous with mommy too,” he said not even realizing that he said mommy instead of Rebecca. “Its hard and scary, but I want you to know that I am really thankful that you are here to help me. It really helps to know I am not alone. To be honest, I felt really scared yesterday, especially when I had my accident.”

“I have to imagine that must have felt really scary and lonely. You aren’t alone Brian. You can count on me anytime,” she said. Brian felt a tear run down his check. He felt like he had cried so much over the past few days. “Oh sweetheart, there isn’t any reason to cry,” she said as she pulled him in for a hug. “You are such sweet boy and you are just too cute in your diaper. I could just eat you up,” she snickered and started tickling him. Brian’s tears turned to giggles. “Now I don’t want to hear anymore about feeling embarrassed, whether its around me or even around your mommy. We both want you to be a happy baby. Now let’s try to get a little more work done before I take you out to lunch, my treat,” she smiled.

[callooopie]

Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon headcannons (pt. 1)

Yeah my boyfriend’s pretty cool, but he’s not as cool as me — Brooklyn Baby // Lana Del Rey

I look away from my TV for one second only to look back and see Jacaerys mewing at me while a deadly and violent war is being discussed

You meet at a college party. Definitely. He looks like a party girl. Jace Targaryen(?) (Targaryen? or perhaps Strong in this modern world? Certainly not Velaryon, as I would assume Rhaenyra would have a choice of who she married in this world) gives off either reliable fratboy energy, or kind and quiet student you sit by in your class (He shows you his notes if you missed something. He gives you his number too—just in case you had questions!) Is the type to silently sneak glances at you during lectures. Maybe you even catch him staring once?

Meeting his family is.. overwhelming. On one hand it’s big. Like really big, a little confusing sometimes. On the other hand? Why’s everyone so hot? What are these genes?! His mom, his dad, his half-family members, his friends?!?! You’re sitting there at the family function like ?!?!

Speaking of family—he’s a big family guy. He loves his mom and his dad, he adores his brothers, he tolerates his half-uncles and whatnot. Jacaerys shows you to his mother in her office, and to his father doing work around the house. I believe he would be the type to wrangle and line up his brothers for you and go down the line introducing them. “This here’s Luke, aaand little Joffrey. They shouldn’t give you any trouble—Joffrey’s a little brat though..”

(Joffrey runs up to you and tells you to say skibidi gyat rizz before running off in a fit of giggles—) “…yeah—sorry ‘bout that. He’s in a phase right now..”

When you first meet his mom and dad as only “Jace’s friend” (Rhaenyra and Harwin.. </3) they are ecstatic to meet you. They think you’re lovely! Hip!—is that what the kids are saying these days? Rhaenyra has a knowing look on her face as Jacaerys reminds her that you’re only a “friend” and Harwin goes along like “Oh yeahhh… Jace’s friend.. riiiight” (the label of friend was gone in a week at most. Instead of “Jace’s friend” you were now “Jace’s girlfriend/boyfriend”) his parents saw it coming a mile or two away they weren’t surprised. And they hope you come around more often for dinners and things.

Jace is in a band (with Davos OOP) and Cregan (this dude.. graduated like a year or two before them and they all still hang out?), along with a few others. What? Oh yeah—they do little gigs and stuff. He plays bass, kinda the glue of the team if you catch his drift.. it’s tough work but anything to pursue musical passion right? (“Band practice” consists of smoking weed and watching shitty YouTube videos in a garage. They can and do play though so.. you guess it works?)

If you tag along with that merry bunch.. please know you’re babysitting now (mainly Jace and Davos. Cregan disappears but reappears when needed most—“kinda his thing”) think of the most stupidest thing two college-age guys could do… and go stupider. Breaking into abandoned buildings, arson, meeting the most suspicious plugs in the pitch black woods or sewers. Not how you’d imagine your Friday night to be spent but here you are. “This guy said he had something CRAZY.. and only for $20–that’s a deal in today’s economy.”

That’s his silly side. Normal every Jacaerys is serious. It’s almost a little off-putting. He’s very reserved as well, although with you there’s some cracks in that stoic facade. He’s the type to have a smile tug on his lips if you take a “sneaky” video or photo of him. Maybe while you both are in a study room and you just need something for a Snapstreak or insta story. Who else should be caught on camera than Jace as he’s deep into a textbook, twirling a pen between his fingers while swiveling side to side in a chair. “Hm? ..what’re you looking at girly? ..me? Pfft—shut up..”

I believe Jace would be the type to have a wide range of music he listens to. Only him. From alternative indie to folk to heavy metal to edm. He’s got range, he’s got tastes. He totally has a vinyl collection (yes it’s by a window and yes there’s plants near it)

Outrageous closet. Not in a bad way, in a really really good way. Probably the best dressed man you’ve ever seen. Things that shouldn’t work together for an outfit, work on him and only him (It’s like the Rhianna effect—an outfit looks ugly on someone else, but on Rhianna? It looks amazing. Iconic) the other way to describe his fashion sense is he dresses like a character from JoJo’s bizarre adventure. If there was an enemy stand user—it’d be Jacaerys.

His bedroom makes you believe in men again. It’s so nice, so cozy and smells so good. Blankets are always cooled, there’s just a sense of security around. HOWEVER. His pillows fucking suck. He’s the type to not replace anything like that unless absolutely necessary. They’re flat, dead, and make your hair slightly oily. He has a mountain of pillows but what good is that if they’re all lacking in support?! “I can open a window if y’want—it gets pretty hot in here sometimes. Hm? What’s up? My pillows? …it’s fine- they’re fine, look at them. You know how expensive-“

Everything bad about Davos’s car? Forget about it! Jace puts pride into his car. He cleans it regularly (Saturdays are for car deep cleaning, no exceptions) His parents did buy it for him for his 16th birthday. However he’s kept it in a very good condition so. Some stickers will be on the back, but it’s usually like “her body her choice” or “go for green energy” ..based Jace. (If perhaps Rhaenyra is a political figure in this modern world.. you bet your ass Jace is gonna have a campaign sticker for his mom on his car) “Just right over here is my car—lemme get your door. It’s okay if you get it dirty, I’ll just clean it… —although be careful—“

Speaking of cleaning his car—he will ask you to help him sometimes. Mainly in the summer, when you’re more likely to be wearing an outfit consisting of the smallest and tightest jean shorts and either a tank top or a bikini top. It’s a little hard to wash a car when he’s gripping the sponge tightly and letting his eyes rake down your body—what? No he wasn’t staring. He was looking at something past you. What’s that in his pants? See now you’re just being mean about it—

While Jacaerys partakes in a cigarette now and then, he’s more partial to alcohol. I feel he wouldn’t like the idea of smoking (It’s just things with lungs y’know? ..plus I don’t wanna die before that fucker Davos—“). Jace is a fiend with how he hoards bottles or drinks. Beers, hard alcohols, etc. Dude knows how to throw a whole bottle back like it’s nothing. He keeps a collection of empty bottles for fun (in his closet so his parents don’t find it) or if he lives alone they’re just freely out and around (or maybe still in the closet). “Whaaat? Slow down? Pfft—please, I’m good. Nah this is like water to me now. Have you ever had this?”

[thatsdemko]

uncle charles- c.leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: fluff + mentions of blood

a/n: just some fluff for your tuesday enjoy! feedback is always appreciated xx

the screaming grows louder as the toddlers come crashing into the living room where charles lays. when his eyes finally move from the screen of his phone, he sees the two younger girls standing in front of him with their dolls clutched close to their chests.

“and what do we have here?” he sits up from the couch, immediately shoving his phone into his pocket. whatever it was could wait, he knew he was going to be dragged into play time.

it was babysitting weekend for you and charles. your sister and her husband were going out of the town for a couples retreat and left you both in charge of their three kids: max, belle, and emily. as much as you both loved all three of them, the minute they were dropped off that evening on Friday, chaos erupted.

they had consumed candy on the ride over which made for three rather cranky and energetic children. they scrambled throughout the halls of your house playing with absolutely anything they could find, until the sugar high went down and the three all collapsed before dinner. you two barely slept that first night due to their restlessness.

which led to Charles attempting to nap on the couch until belle and emily interrupted with their dolls, “will you play with us, uncle cha?” they batted their eyelashes, resting their chins against his lap and how could he ever say no? despite his current state of exhaustion, he would do anything for the two girls.

“alright, I’ll be in the play room in one second.” he says watching the two giggle off to the family room, which had become the play room for the weekend.

you were in the kitchen with max helping him with his homework, while Charles was given the task to occupy the two girls. when Charles peeked around the corner he saw how gentle you were with max, you were trying to teach him his times table. charles loved how gentle you were with the kids, it was a talent you had that he envied sometimes.

turning away he headed into the family room where he heard the slightest whimper come from, the sound instantly alerted his fight or flight. he quickly moved into the room to see belle had ran into the edge of the piano leaving her with a big thick cut that was oozing blood, “uncle cha, I’m sorry—“

he rushes over swooping the young girl into his arms immediately rushing to the bathroom to find bandaids and a wash cloth, “amour, it’s not your fault it was an accident, they happen.” he moves quickly allowing warm water to soak up the material before gently pressing it into her skin. she hisses in pain burring her head into his chest, he allows her to cry into his shirt and use it as a tissue while he cleans her arm.

“emily told me what happen, everything okay?” you come into the bathroom to see a bandaid was already placed on belle’s arm and she’s sniffling out the tears into your boyfriends shirt.

you had heard the commotion from your spot in the kitchen. you knew Charles had it handled, but emily was in near tears when she came in begging you to check on her sister.

“we are alright, aren’t we?” he bends his head down, her big eyes connecting with his, she gives him a nod, arms wrapping around his torso, he picks her up resting her onto his hip.

“okay good! mommy said we have to return you in one piece. what would we do if your arm fell off?” you fake a gasp watching the little girls frowning face lift upwards into a giggle, as she begins to squeal shaking her head at the thought.

“we say uncle cha did it!” belle once more buries her head into Charles shirt feeling the vibrations of his laughter run through his chest.

“now why would we want to get uncle cha in trouble?” he asks, three of you moving into the kitchen to see max and Emily were at the table eating a snack you placed in front of them.

“I don’t know!” she giggles squirming to join her siblings and he lets her down, watching her take off to the third bowl at the table and begins to eat with them.

“I don’t know how my sister does it.” you whisper watching the three contently chat, eat, and laugh. belle seeming to have totally forgot about the band aid on her arm and the slight panic she caused the two of you.

“me neither.” he sighs taking his eyes off the three and onto you, he still stands by what he said years ago in an interview. he wants three, but with you and nobody else. he knows you’ll be an amazing mom just by the way that you are an amazing aunt to three children in your kitchen. the silence throughout the whole house feels uncomfortable, and for a moment you allow yourself to sink into it until one of them interrupts.

“uncle cha, what do I do if I have gum in my hair?!”

he sighs, eyes closing in frustration that the peace and quiet was now ruined, “bring me the scissors.”

[stevesherdaddynowlover]

If you still wanna write about Steve how about him and reader babysitting on a neighbors kid and it’s still very early in their relationship (or not lmao up to you) but it’s just adorable and kinda like playing house? Let the babysitter babysit 😌

practice makes perfect [s.h.]

an: ohhhhhhh i loved this bad. you’re a genius. i hope you enjoy!!! feel free to send requests/suggestions whenever

no warnings just fluff! wc: 2.5k

masterlist here!!!!

The relationship you had with Steve bloomed quickly. You went from strangers to friends to lovers in the span of about 3 weeks. A whirlwind romance. It had been a few months of the two of you being exclusive and it already felt like something that would be lifelong. 

Steve was attentive and sweet. He’d slip his hand into the back pocket of your jeans and pull you close to him when he could tell you were in your head about something. He’d run you a bath after a long day at work and sit beside you with his chin on the edge of the tub while you rambled on about whatever had happened. He would try—and mostly fail, though you never told him—to cook you these intricate meals. 

You’d fallen in love with him quick and hard. It hit you like a ton of bricks and took your breath away. Sometimes looking at him for too long felt overwhelming, your body buzzing and your throat thick with emotion as you’d watch him smile at something, eyes full of love and light. 

Steve was overwhelming, in the best way possible. 

You have that feeling now, your insides melting and heart thudding against your chest as you watch him bounce your neighbor's baby on his knee. Her little fingers are holding onto his big ones tightly, giggles flowing freely from the both of them as he coos and sings to her softly. 

Your heart might explode. 

It was a few days prior when your neighbor had approached you. Anna was a single mom, sweet and welcoming and you’d taken a liking to her. She worked three jobs and picked up odds and ends when she could. You admired her, helped out as much as possible and spent a few weekends a month with her precious little girl, Charlotte. 

Charlie was 8 months old and full of energy. You’d grown somewhat attached to her and it warmed your heart that she’d flash her toothless grin at you, chubby arms reaching for you expectantly when you came over. 

Anna had come knocking on your door during date night, apologizing profusely when you opened the door and she saw Steve attached at your hip. She’d asked if you could possibly watch Charlie on Friday, a big event at work with money that was too good to pass up. 

“Of course we will.” 

Both of your heads had turned to Steve, a grin on his face and a sureness in his eyes. You’d told Anna all about Steve, had gushed about him for months and she had no hesitation in accepting his offer, thanking the both of you before running back over and leaving you to date night. 

“Steve, are you sure you wanna come with me? Charlie’s an easy kid for the most part but…it’s tough sometimes.” 

He looked offended that you’d even suggest him not coming, scoffing slightly and waving his hand in the air at you. “I’m sure I’ll be fine. You’ll be there. Plus, this’ll be good practice for when we have babies.” 

That stopped you in your tracks, mouth falling open slightly and your heart racing. Of course you had thought about what kids with Steve would be like, how cute that would be, but to yourself. You didn't dare say it out loud and the way he said it so casually, so sure, had your blood pumping. 

And that brought you to know. Anna had left about an hour ago and Steve hadn’t even let Charlie out of his arms since she’d passed her over when you walked through the door. Charlie had taken to him immediately, pinching his cheeks between her little fingers and tugging softly at his hair. You couldn’t blame her though, he had great hair. 

“How lucky am I, huh? Get to spend my Friday night with the two prettiest girls in the world.” He’d leaned forward to nuzzle his nose against hers gently and she fell into a fit of giggles, clapping excitedly as if she’d actually understood what he said. 

God, your ovaries were going to explode! He fell into the role so naturally, cradling her head even though she was strong enough to hold it up on her own. You sighed in content when he pressed quick kisses to her cheeks or when he blew raspberries on her tummy and she thought it was the best thing in the world. 

“Having fun, Steve?” You sat beside them on the couch, arm resting behind him so you could play with his hair while he entertained the baby. 

“Are you kidding? This is fuc—freaking great. She’s a doll.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at the panic in his eyes at almost cursing in front of her. Assuring him that she wouldn’t pick up any bad words this young, you held your hands out to take her. 

While normally she’d reach for you eagerly, this time she eyed you carefully for a moment before turning back to Steve, laying her head on his shoulder and toying with the necklace he was wearing. 

Steve shut his mouth quickly, trying not to laugh at the look on your face. You looked genuinely offended, eyes wide and a small pout on your lips that made him want to lean over and kiss you. 

“Really, Charlie? 5 minutes with him and I’m old news!? I thought we were friends.” Leaning forward you tickled her side and laughed when she squirmed away and giggled. Eventually she decided to humor you, holding her hands out and letting you pluck her from Steve’s arms. 

Steve followed you through the house to her room, watching from the door as you laid her down to change her.

A fondness settled over him as he watched you, his heart all but melting in his chest as Charlie babbled to you and you nodded your head along as if you knew what she was saying. This came easy to you, being motherly and delicate. And Steve loved you even more for it. 

As he stood there quietly he pictured you with a child of your own. His child. He pictured bath times and stories before bed. He pictured kisses goodnight and breakfasts on the porch outside. 

For a long time he didn’t think he was meant for any of that, didn’t deserve it. But then he met you and everything he thought he knew was flipped upside down and changed in a flash. When he looked at you he saw your first dance and a baby and your first home and family vacations. He saw a lifetime of love and passion. 

You made him feel like it was possible to have that life he’d always secretly dreamed of. And even if things somehow didn’t work out—he hoped to god they did—he’d always owe you for showing him that being hopeful wasn’t a bad thing. 

He’s pulled from his thoughts when you walk up to him, Charlie bouncing on your hip and clapping when she gets sight of Steve waiting for her. He takes her with open arms and while you could pretend to be hurt you can’t deny the way you feel all fuzzy watching them together. 

“Gonna be the best mama, you know?” 

“I hope so.” 

“She’s just all over me because I’m a shiny new toy. But watching you with her…I can’t wait to see it one day.” 

You curse at the way your eyes fill with tears. This is one of those times Steve is so overwhelming and he doesn’t even know it! He’s just so naturally good. He’s so special and the most frustrating part is that he doesn’t even realize it. 

“Sometimes I love you so much I just want to smack you.” He finally sets Charlie down and watches carefully as she crawls over to her bucket of toys before he’s looking back at you, amusement in his eyes and a small quirk to his lips. 

“You’re just so…you! You are a good guy, Steve, the best I know. And you give yourself so little credit. I wish you could see how important you are. Not just to me but everyone around you. I’ll be a good mom because I love kids and know how to care for them, but I’ll be a great mom because you’ll be by my side. You’re gonna be the best daddy.” 

He’s looking at you with a look you can’t recognize, eyes heavy and it’s almost like he's studying you and you feel yourself growing shy under his gaze. 

“I don’t…I don’t know what to say. I, uh, I just know that I love you, a lot, like more than anything. And I feel proud you even entertain the idea of having kids with me.” 

You’re so full of love for him you’re not sure you can put it into words either, so instead you lean up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his, soft and gentle and full of all the things you want to say but don’t know how. 

Steve pulls back first, the heaviness in eyes gone and replaced with something light and playful. “Stop trying to get in my pants! The baby is right there, you perv. Let’s go make dinner before you scar her for life.” 

Smacking his chest and cursing at him under your breath doesn’t do anything but make his smile grow even bigger, dimples popping out when you roll your eyes and walk over to pick Charlie up. 

“C’mon girls, Steve’s making dinner!” His voice booms as he makes his way to the kitchen, pulling out ingredients you aren’t sure go together and shaking your head at Charlie, who’s watching him walk away with stars in her eyes.

“Don’t worry, kid. I’ve got some snacks in my bag in case this happened.” 

——

Dinner went surprisingly well, all 3 of you eating what Steve had cooked instead of the chips and chocolate you had stashed away in your bag. Anna had mentioned she gave Charlie a bath earlier in the day so now you were all lounging on the couch while you waited to give her a bedtime bottle. 

Some kids' tv shows held her attention, and Steve’s. 

A while later you pulled yourself off the sofa, stretching your arms over your head and telling Steve you were going to get her bottle and you’d be right back. It doesn’t take long, the routine is mindless and second nature to you at this point. When you’re making your way back into the living room, Steve’s voice has you stopping in your tracks. 

Charlie is cradled in his arms now, head resting in the crook of his elbow and he’s using his finger to rub small circles on the spot between her brows. “I hope it doesn’t offend you that I wanted to use you as practice. If it makes you feel any better you’ve been great! My favorite baby girl. You make it seem like it won’t be so scary having my own. I hope they’re as sweet as you, or their mama.” 

The hand that’s not holding her bottle is resting against the doorframe, your knees threatening to give out. At this point you’ve stopped thinking that you can’t love him more. He always proves you wrong. 

You clear your throat, taking some steps forward and laughing when Steve holds his hand over his head to take the bottle. I guess he’s feeding her. 

He watches in awe as she suckles gently, little drops of milk gathering in the corners of her mouth and he wonders why everything she does is so cute. She’s grilling his finger with a tight little fist that makes him smile. 

Half of the bottle is gone before she’s dozing off, head on Steve’s shoulder as he gently pats her back. Your head is on his other shoulder, fingers resting on his arm that’s cradling her against his chest. 

This is something you could get used to, you think. 

——-

It’s not long before Steve and Charlie are knocked out. Steve is slumped down with his legs stretched out in front of him, head leaning softly Charlie’s who’s lying on him belly to belly, head turned to the side facing you so you see the way her cheek smushes against his chest. 

TV off, the glow of the lamp the only light in the room. It’s dark outside now, your knees tucked to your chest as you watch them sleep. 

The click of the front door grabs your attention and you turn to see Anna coming in with tired eyes and her heels she had to wear for the event dangling from her fingertips. They drop with a soft thud to the carpet and she smiles at the sight of her baby cuddled to Steve before she turns to face you. 

“Thanks for doing this, it means the world to me.” 

“Anytime, Anna,” You gesture towards Steve on the other end of the couch and laugh under your breath, “it seems in not the only one that’s grown attached to Charlotte.” 

“I take it he was good with her then? I kinda got the feeling he would be.” 

“Y-yeah, he was…yeah. Gave me a big case of baby fever watching him with her.” You try to brush it off jokingly but you can’t take your eyes away from Steve or the way he cradles her against him. It’s mesmerizing almost, how perfect it looks. 

Anna gives you a knowing smirk, hands on her hips as she looks between you and Steve. “Yeah, I can see that.” You blush under her stare, hands coming up as if to say “whoops”. He’d proven to you tonight just how capable he was and it did things to you that you couldn’t explain. 

“Well, I know this thing between you two is…fresh. But I can see it in your eyes, picturing him with your own kids. It’s scary and a lot of and I’m not saying you should go and get pregnant now, but don’t freak out because you’re having daydreams about it. He’s a good one, we both know that. It’s okay to be sure about these things, even if it feels like it isn’t.” 

Her words soothed a part of you that you didn’t know needed it, but you felt better all the same. You nudged Steve gently, trying not to startle him or the baby and smiled when Anna went over to scoop her out of his arms. She thanked him quietly and he hummed sleepily, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Charlie’s head before pulling his shoes back on and taking your hand in his. 

You walked wordlessly back to your house, thankful your mind had quieted down some. All that was heard was the chirping of crickets and the click of your front door being unlocked before Steve led you in. 

Both of your eyes heavy with sleep you let him tug you up the stairs to your room and pull you into bed without changing your clothes. He pulled you close to him, your back pressed up against his chest and his arm slung over your waist. 

“Thanks for playing house with me tonight, Stevie. Love you.” 

“Anytime, baby. Love you most.” 

[marleyybluu]

Differences

husband!Rio x f!black!OC ( Toni - no relation to Miss Braxton.)

Word count: 3.2k

Content warning: 18+, smut out the ass, riding, fingering, p in v, creampie, use of the word cock sorry oops, baby-making boogie, doubts about marriage, doubts about kids, fluff, Rio being in love, lot of switching between his names, allusion to food play if you squint hard enough (?). lmk if I missed any.

A/N: this was orginally for... someone else iykyk mind your business, but I switched last minute. Also I gave Rio a middle name lol

(Not my gif, found off Pinterest. but FUCK ME he looks good)

They'd been married for four years. They enjoyed their marital life, going on various trips, spending their money all willy-nilly since it was just the two of them, having parties at their house every holiday but something was missing. At least for Toni. She always wanted to be a mother, children invaded her heart and soul her whole life. Her sisters had children that she loved to babysit, she was even in the delivery room a few times. She'd become a teacher for the sole purpose of spending her days with young ones, making a difference in their lives and loving them wholeheartedly as much as she could.

But it seemed like Rio wasn't in the same boat. Which was stupid because they made sure to have this discussion before they got married and he was on board one hundred percent, Toni wanted to make her husband a father, she wanted to see him cradle a little blanket in his arms, she wanted to see him snuggling next to the chubbiest cheeks and she wanted to see his face light up at their first word but, again, he seemed to not want it for himself.

It was frustrating.

She'd let the four years pass, it was a good time window, they had time to get their lives together and buy a house, fully furnish it, settle into a decent neighbourhood and buy an SUV to fit the little family they dreamed of.

Toni even made sure to let him know when she was ovulating, the perfect opportunity to try and make a child, but he'd shrivel up and disappear when she brought it up. Then she'd spend her nights quietly doubting his interest in kids, his interest in her.

They hadn't spoken in four days, the aftermath of their first real argument, the vibes in the house were heavy and sometimes a bit awkward. She even started staying late at work to avoid him even longer.

They weren't all that selfish, they still said good morning and good night but that was about it. Little to her knowledge it was killing Rio. He hated the silent treatment from her, she was his girl they talked all the time, this had been the best relationship he'd ever been in, he didn't want to fuck it up but it felt like he already did.

He tried sneaking his way back into her heart by leaving little love notes, cooking her favourite meals and turning on her favourite shows in hopes she'd join him on the couch but all he got was the cold shoulder and he understood. He fucked up big time.

"I'm ovulating." She stated plainly. Rio just blinked and shrugged. She groaned. "Christopher, I can't do this anymore, I'm dropping hints that I want to start trying and you... you ignore me."

"I'm not ready."

"When will you be? Because I am."

He chuckled nervously. "Come on, Toni, we cannot be parents. We'll fuck it up."

The look on her face sent his heart into the pit of his stomach, her eyes glossy with tears coming in, and a harsh; "Fuck you, Christopher!"  To follow suit. It stung hearing those words, if she ever said them it was more so in a playful manner but this time she had rage, anger behind her words and rightfully so. But tonight he was determined to make amends, he could not keep living like this.

It was Friday, and Toni decided she'd come home a little earlier. Rio sat up quickly at the sound of her car door slamming and the keys on her keychain jingling as she sifted for the house key. The door opened and he tried his best to keep his cool. "Hi, darlin." He greeted.

"Hey." She said in the most monotone voice he'd ever heard. "Hungry?" He asked. "Nah, I'm cool."

Toni slipped off her shoes and crept up the stairs to their room, she placed her purse on a chair nearby and sighed, just ready to shower and lay down for the rest of the weekend. She walked past their bathroom intending to head to her Vanity but a red spot on the floor caught her eye, and then another... and another. But they weren't spots, they were rose petals, a trail of them leading up to the tub that was already filled with water, the smell of her lavender bath bomb invading her senses. On the counter were a few lit candles and her little speaker so she could play music.

She swallowed her smile and headed back to the room to collect her clothes for the night. Meanwhile, Rio was finishing the final touches on his persuasive dinner downstairs. He made Macaroni just the way she taught him, some rice and chicken, even topped it off with a red velvet cake... okay so he bought the cake but it was the thought that counted right?

He set up the table for both of them to eat together, he set up the forks and knives on the table with a small vase of her favourite flower, pink Dahlia's. His palms were suddenly sweaty, tonight was make or break. If he didn't fix things tonight he had no idea where they would stand after.

Almost an hour later, Toni decided she'd close the distance between them only because she was hungry. Her feet pressed against the carpeted stairs as she descended onto the main floor, the living room was empty, Rio left whatever he was watching on pause. Her head whipped over to the kitchen smelling a lovely fragrance, she followed the trail and stopped in her tracks at the opening to the kitchen. She watched as Rio scrambled to plate their food, she tilted her head and smiled lightly, her eyes slowly forming into hearts. Oh, how she loved him.

"Do you want help?" She asked making her presence known, Rio shook his head. "Just sit and be pretty." She giggled. "I have no problem doing that."

She sat around the table, her eyes landing on the Dahlia's, her smile widened. "You got these for me?"

"Of course," He replied walking with two plates in his hand like a waiter, he put hers down first and then his. "Any drink requests?" He asked. She motioned her finger in a 'come here' motion, his eyebrows knitting with confusion but following her non-verbal instruction, she cupped his face pulling him even closer until their lips, moulding into one. She'd been wanting to kiss him for days, she didn't know if she could ever hold a grudge this long again.

The kiss was quick, just a little show of appreciation. She could see a light shade of pink take over his cheekbones. "Do we have any wine?"

"Went and got two new bottles." He says matter of factly. Toni pecked his lips again before sending him off for her drink. He grabbed two wine glasses and the bottle. "You're going to drink wine?" She asked in utter confusion. He couldn't stand wine, his famous line was 'I don't know how you drink this shit.'

He shrugged sitting down. "I can drink wine."

"Christopher... baby you hate wine."

"I can learn to like it."

She knew he was doing everything to soften her up, but the look on his face when he took a first sip was priceless. "Go and get a beer, leave me and my wine alone." He chuckled and quickly grabbed a bottle from the fridge.

The two sat and actually conversed for the first time in four days. It was nice. They talked without missing a beat, he was making her smile and laugh, she told him about the kids at work and the twinkle in her eye at the smallest mention of them was beautiful. She truly loved her students, they made her day every day with the silly stuff they'd say to her. He was in love with how motherly she could be toward everyone, how forgiving she was of anyone and especially of him. He didn't deserve her and he'd made it known numerous times and in the same amount she'd reassured him that he was just for her.

In the middle of her ramble, she noticed the way he was staring at her and suddenly she became shy. "What?" She asked. "I love you, mama."

"I love you too, Christopher."

He shook his head vigorously. "No, I love you more than you could ever imagine, Toni. And I am so so sorry for what I said."

She sighed. "It's okay."

"No, it's not okay. You will be an amazing mom to our kids and I couldn't picture anyone else having them, shit I couldn't even picture having a family until you came, it wasn't in the cards for me." He confessed. "My whole life has changed and I'm forever grateful for it. I want it to keep changing."

She tugged on her bottom lip, trying her best to swallow her tears. "When I saw how my words affected you, baby, my heart broke. I never want to be the reason you're sad. Never. I've missed you these few days. I need you back. I'm sorry."

Toni was speechless, her lips parted to say something but how do you respond to the sweetest apology ever?

Her eyes darted between his pretty brown ones, she stood up and walked over to him, swinging her leg over his she planted herself comfortably on his lap. His hands instantly rested on her hips. She didn't say anything, just leaned down and kissed him and he could swear that on her lips he could taste his past, his present and his future and she was there for every step, for every second. He wouldn't dare say such foolishness to her again.

Toni could feel a little poke through his sweats, she quietly moaned into his mouth, his hands exploring her warm chestnut skin under her shirt, his fingers trickling down her back. His lips moved to her chin and down to her neck to the spot he knew oh so well, his facial hair tickling her skin only adding to the sensation and a ray of goosebumps formed on her skin. "Christopher...mmm." Was all she could mutter, her hips involuntarily moving back and forth desperately searching for friction to soothe the aching of her clit. He got the message though, firmly splaying his hands under her ample ass, he stood up and she wrapped her legs around him.

He was halfway out of the kitchen when he realized; "Wait, I got you a red velvet cake."

Toni laughed, and she kissed his forehead, god he was so cute. "Boy, forget the cake. Take me upstairs and you can eat a different cake."

Rio raised his eyebrows, didn't have to tell him twice. "That's why I married yo ass girl."

She gladly hung off of him while he carried her up the stairs and once they made it to the room he dropped her on the bed, her sweet laughter filled the room. He settled between her legs, peppering her with kisses and affection. "I can't wait to see you, walking around here with a little belly, carrying around our love." He twitched at the thought and she noticed. A small surprised look on her face. "Is the thought of me pregnant... turning you on?"

"No." He quickly denied it. "Christopher Javier Martínez, yes it does." She teased reaching in between them to cup his hardening erection. "Mm, so you want to fill me up? Hm?" Her voice was so smooth and silky yet seductive, her lips pressing against his only for a moment. "You want to see me carrying your baby around? How swollen and plump my breasts are gonna get? Practically spilling over my tops."

"Toni." He groaned. She giggled but her taunting was cut short when he reached into her (well, his) boxers, his fingers teasing her slit, her wetness coating him. Her back arched as he quickly dipped his fingers inside her heat and back out. "Stop playin' with me." She moaned. "Why?"

Her shirt slid up her torso and past her breasts exposing her erect nipples, his mouth quickly latching onto one, his tongue swirling around her pretty brown areolas, so delicious. His free hand massaged her other one, his thumb and index fingers playing with her nipple. Her back arched and her legs squirm under him.

"Christopher, baby, please." She whined. He chuckled and something about was kind of sinister like his intent was to tease her all night until she begged for what she wanted. He popped her nipple out of his mouth, planting a kiss on it before moving on to the next, his hips grinding into hers pressing his clothed cock on her needy clit. "Yes... oh, I need more, please." She gasped.

He kissed between the valley of her breasts, down her torso and finally reaching his destination above the band of her underwear, he tugs them off in almost a hungry manner, his mouth attaching to her pussy like a magnet. His tongue going to work on her clit, his thumb caressing the rest of her slit. Toni's entire body shivered, her legs slowly closing around his head, he used his free hand to smack her inner thigh, she squealed and spread them out, holding the under of her thighs for support.

Her eyes glided to the back of her head, she squirmed, her back arching just a little bit. "Oh... y-yeah." Her toes cracked while pleasure coursed through her veins. Rio hummed against her sensitive nub, his own hips losing themselves as he hunched against the mattress with neediness. Her thighs trembled as they partially rested on his shoulders. She moaned and whined, whimpered and croaked as he devoured her existence.

"fuck, baby, I'm so close." She warned with her jaw slacked as the hairs on her arm stood, her body stiffened, her nails scratched at his scalp with appreciation and love as he carried her through the tantalizing loops of her orgasm.

She was dripping down his beard and he smiled against her thigh, his teeth gently biting on the flesh. "Oh!... Mr. Martinez." She giggled. He kissed his way back up her body, his lips landing on her chin. "I'm so glad I married you." She hummed running her nails over his skin. "Hm, I love you, ma." He cooed pressing a kiss to her nose. Rio slid off his sweats and boxers, dick sliding between her soaking folds. Her hand reached between them wrapping her fingers around his well-sized shaft.

Their lips connect as she guides him inside her soft walls. She gasped and softly moaned as he eased his way in until she was stuffed. Toni wrapped her legs around his waist. "You good?" Just checking. She nodded, too full to speak. His lips occupied her neck, her mind in the clouds as he fucked her stupid. Mutters and mumbles of "fuck me! Yes!" Or "right there!" As he skillfully worked his hips. He held her close, his face buried in the curve of her neck. His thrusts were hard and slow, he was making her feel every inch, every bit of stretch he provided.

Her high creeping its way into her bones, her moans became louder as he consistently tapped against her g-spot. There was no way he was about to make her nut again in such a short amount of time. He could feel her juicy walls contracting around him, hugging him so tight. "You're so wet for me, huh, my pretty baby?" 

Toni's jaw slacked while he talked to her, nibbling on her ear. "So fucking wet, can feel it dripping down my balls, fuck." 

She whined. "I can't- shit! shit! ooooh!" 

He chuckles as he pulls out, regrettably at that. Toni cried out, her climax so close yet so far. Rio fell onto the bed, slapping her thigh he said, "Get on top." 

She sucked her teeth, in no mood to be on top, still irritated from being denied her needs. Rio pinched her and she yelped. "Ow! You dick!" She laughed slapping his arm. "Hurry up and get on this dick." He urged pulling her arm to help her over. She swung her leg across his body, perching herself on his lap like earlier. His dick resting perfectly against one of her cheeks. She looked down at him and he was so fucking pretty. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly, her eyes landing on that notorious Eagle tattoo on his throat then down over the rest that he had scattered on his body, she moaned at that alone. 

She leaned forward, raising her hips and skillfully lining him up with her entrance, no hands needed. She watched as his rosy lips parted slightly and a small crease in between his eyebrows formed when they came together. "Fuuuuck." He dragged out feeling his dick be re-enveloped in her velvety walls. Toni moved her hips back and forth with one goal in mind, to get herself off. She used her knees as leverage to lift her hips up and back down, her ass jiggling when colliding with his thighs. With her lip between her teeth, her head tossed back she got to work on him. 

Rio's hands gladly squeezed at her sides, her moans filling the room once again. "You're so fucking pretty on top of me, mama." He encouraged, but he truly meant it, she looked like a fucking angel. "Oh god, oh god... fuck yes, Rio!" He felt himself twitch, his wife rarely called him by his street name, she only did it when she wanted to tease him, loved to do it when they were around others. 

He groaned spanking her. She smiled, a hazy look in her eyes. "What's my name, mama?" 

Toni cried out, her head falling forward as she bounced out her orgasm. "Fu-fuuuck, Rio!" 

"Squeezing this dick so fuckin' tight, come on..." He sat up hooking his arm around her waist, his tongue darting out to the underside of her breast, tasting the saltiness of her sweat. Toni sang out his name, her back arched and her eyes rolled. He grabbed her hips and guided her up and down, her body going limp. "Shit! Oh... Toni, I'm comin' baby." He growled through gritted teeth, he pressed his forehead against her sternum and she softly smiled feeling his warm seed spread inside her. "Fuck... that feels so good." She giggled, she was cock drunk. He kissed her glistening skin. 

They stayed like that for a moment, she kissed the top of his head, her hands on his shoulders as she slowly pushed him onto his back again, she climbed off of him and sighed in satisfaction. "You want something to drink?" He asked, she shook her head. "Nah, you gotta hydrate ma. I'm making sure I put a baby in you tonight." He laughed lightly smacking her thigh. Her cheeks warmed as a smile fell onto her face. 

She watched as Rio, naked and all, left the room to go downstairs. "Bring the cake too!"Toni shouted, he could just hear the smirk in her voice.

"You are so nasty!" He yelled back.

 "You love it though!" 

If you liked this fic free to like this fic, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated. peace and love, see you in the next one 🤙🏾 If you're interested in reading other fics based on songs just like this one you can find them here in 'The Mixtapes.' playlist.

tags: @darqchilddaydreamz @rio-reid-whoreee @skyesthebomb tags that might be interested: @bigenergy777 @realhotgurlshit @lovedlover

[applesontheground]

no cheating! 📞

KINKTOBER 2024 | DAY FIFTEEN - GLORY HOLE

revisiting some classic crushes of mine for this next week or so of prompts since i've been letting the current hyperfixations run things a bit.

been a sec since i gave my favorite ghostfaces some writing time aside from the new puppy, and i do mean both of them.

(keep your eyes peeled, mickey altieri stans, he's next.)

NSFW | Word Count: 1,900 | Stu Macher x GN Reader contains MILD DUBCON, canon typical/violent threats & phonecalls, college au, reader is dumb as dirt, stalking, chasing, humiliation, oral (reader recieving), open ending 🎼: x, x

Goofing off was a specialty of his, you knew that long before you even considered dating him. Palpable, it showed in his stance, his susceptibility to smile, and his tendency to immediately pop the bubble of personal space with anyone just over the threshold of being his friend.

It was when he decided to act like that in the dark that bothered you.

“It’s nine, Stu. You’re gonna get canned if you don’t stop fucking around.” You warned, barely rising above your normal speaking tone and quickly becoming hyperaware of your surroundings. It was a silent night on the quad, most kids well and back in the dorms or wherever they called home. The night class takers were few – especially in the Fall semester, nightfall often well in its place when you were walking in for your 8:15 lecture.

For the most part, taking the walk home with Stu was a safe bet. Tonight, though, he had warned you the wind was rather strong today – and was gone with it when you had ignored him for just a few measly seconds. Sighing loudly, you kept walking, still keeping an ear out for him to jump out of the bushes, or start making those creepy whispers from Friday the 13th just to be a prick.

“Dude, you know campus police are sometimes out late. They’re gonna fucking get you, and then what? They’ll take you in, say you’re not a student because you’re creeping around, Then you’re stuck until I come and bail you out-” You spoke more to yourself now as you kept walking, eyes scanning the dimly lit quad’s sidewalk.

When you were without your boyfriend, you already felt exposed and alone enough. When he was there, but not visible, it made that feeling skyrocket to something almost unbearable. Still, there was a point of redemption you could assure yourself in knowing him, knowing he liked to mess around and it was practically a part of him. It was all in the give and take of your guys’ relationship, and to deny his jests brought you joy on your quieter days would be wrong.

Your phone rang, stunning you out of your own convincing to stay patient. Glowering down at your bag, you dug it out to see a restricted number staring back at you. Biting your tongue before assuming it was him, and hearing nothing from the quad despite making your way halfway through, you flipped the screen open, listening to the dead air before saying anything.

“You’re falling behind, [Y/N]. I was hoping you’d want to keep up with your boyfriend.”

The corners of your mouth twitched to try and form a smile of disbelief, and while you didn’t recognize the voice, the tone was familiar enough. If not him, it was one of Stu’s friends.

“You look lonely out here, the quad’s rather dead now that Stuart’s out of the picture. When do you think he’ll be back?”

“Oh, come on. Are you a campus hall monitor, a student body tattletale?” You asked, finally breaking your silence and holding the phone to your ear. You laughed, “Look, I’m trying to get a handle on him but he’s a squirrely guy. Can’t expect me to babysit a grown ass man.”

“…Babysit? Wow.” The voice laughed for a few seconds, making you look up and around one more time, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t need one of those. He sure seems to be taking care of himself right now, without you.”

You looked up again, the phone leaning slightly away from your ear now as you turned your head, surveying the trees, the fresh stretch of grass, anything to give you a sign where this guy was watching you. Again, solid chance it was Stu, but also viable it was one of his buddies deciding to stalk the two of you as part of some bit only they found hilarious. His friend Billy would definitely get a kick out of it, you considered, easy to spot those glowering eyes in your mind, make them out of a weird lighting through a tree close by.

It wasn’t until a whistle sounded from a bush that you turned, “Stu fucking Macher, can you just-“ You began, but you snapped your phone shut to see a figure that was not your boyfriend running up on you from behind, the mask a novelty in most cases but downright unnerving when it was only you two in the area.

Immediately, you ran with a backwards jog at first, but then turned to fully gallop for your life. It wasn’t worth the risk of assuming it was a joke, you knew that well enough as a student walking alone at night.

You had a momentary worry that something had happened to Stu that wasn’t as innocent as him trying to incite some game of hide and seek, but decided to worry about that when you weren’t nearly losing your bag over one shoulder, ducking around a corner and looking for any other sign of a person out tonight.

The phone rang again, and you ignored it in favor of pressing around the corner of a vending machine that was up against one of the buildings. Silencing your device with a fumbling hand, you just stood and listened.

Even if it’s some dumb student making a joke, he should know better. That shit gets you sent to the pokey fast to chase someone at this time in a costume like that. It was in bad taste, too: there were actual serial killings that had taken place in the county some ways away – and centered around a victim pool of a school, which made the getup being shown on a campus chill you close to the core.

Footsteps came, paused, shuffled, and then continued down the sidewalk in another direction, a scratch against pavement as your head thudded with a pulse struggling to come back down. You were holding your breath until your vision grew a little blurry, glancing to the doors of the building you were huddled by.

The phone rang again, and despite the restricted number’s title showing once more you gave the second try an answer. He didn’t let you get a word in, just demanding something as you stood there with a half-gaped mouth.

“Go to the [mens’/ ladies] room in the science building, fourth stall down from the right. I got something real shockin' for you, baby.”

Filthy rat, it was Stuart. You tried to insult him, but he hung up as soon as he got you on the line and gave his one sentence. Still, you smiled, finding the invitation to be a little risqué – but again, it was him, and you were willing to play grab-ass if not to just reunite with him.

Getting a little workout beforehand, you then realized, had to be warming up. At least, in his weird mindset. You would have to tell him the costume was a pretty low blow afterwards, and how he really shouldn’t bring it with him to class just for a joke to pull on his [girlfriend/boyfriend/partner].

Stepping into the science building, the lights were still on, space looking as liminal and deserted as the rest of the campus. You gave a mildly embarrassed glance over your shoulder as you found the restroom, and poking your head in you murmured, “This is a really weird courting method, man.”

“Come on.” That first voice from the initial phone call spoke, and your smile fell off your face. “You got to give him points for trying.”

Your arm flew back behind you from where you had walked in, yanking on the door but finding it conveniently jammed from the other side, like a doorstop had been kicked in. You turned to stare again, and the voice purred at you lowly, and a hand curled over the closed door of the third stall, hanging that damn mask over it.

“You’re not leaving until you come to the fourth stall like I asked you to, [Y/N].” Sucking in a breath, you hesitated, and his tone got more severe. “Get over here or I’ll make sure my friend on the other side holds the door closed while I tear a knife through your stomach and rip the rest of you open with my bare hands.”

You flinched, approaching carefully as you then asked, “You didn’t do something to him, right?” “You can see Stuart when we’re finished.” He quickly answered. There was a plastic click, the press of a device through the stall that he had to be speaking into as he then asked, “Now, get in the other side – and get on your knees, slut.”

Peering into the open door, the classiness of your college stared back at you.

A glory hole. You froze up again, and said, “I’m not doing that.”

“So, you're going to die over it, then?” He asked, those gloved hands curling over the top of the stall again as he stuck his cock through. You looked down at it, and an initial disgust was pushed aside as you asked, “Why?”

“Because I’ve been itching for a pretty little mouth to come and find me. Come on,” His voice crooned, and you rolled your shoulders as you stepped inside.

Getting down, you muttered, “I swear to god, if you did anything to Stuart, I’m biting this cock before you finish.”

He laughed, “Atta girl, I like a little bite to my barking.”

You gritted your teeth, but finally after staring at what was in front of you, your mouth slowly came up to it. The warm skin shivered, and you hummed in defeat to realize you'd never even done this in the few months you and Stu had been a thing.

What were you even going to say to him about what this sicko got out of you – and more importantly, how were you already taking him entirely into your mouth just from the noises he was making?

Hums and grunts, restless but satiated, came from the other side as he fucked into your mouth, hands slipping back over his side. You heard him become restrained, using one hand to now press over his mouth. His real voice could be too exposed if he let it get out of hand, and that made tears prick in your eyes to wonder what this dude did to your boyfriend. Still, you pulled off slowly, your tongue running over the bottom as another moan sounded.

“What a whore, think I just hit some kind of jackpot.” You pulled off, and shook your head as he had gotten the voice changer back just to say that. You spit on the head, making him gasp again and the white, rectangular device suddenly clattered to his feet.

Your eyes flickered up, a sharp slam against the stall’s wall making you jump off his dick despite it still being hard, and you not being done. That same wicked laughter you heard on the phone came through, and his voice was poisonous, eliciting you to jump back to the other side of the stall and stare at the blade now protruding over the glory hole, stuck through to stare right back at your wide eyes.

Stuart’s voice – raw and revealed in this moment as he spoke against the wall.

“That’s what I thought, you little cheater.”

[annievrse]

boyfriend!eren headcanons pt. 5 .*･｡ﾟ

—ᡣ𐭩 headcanons a/n: u guys love him, so i will provide more...... c/w: zeke is a father (his kid is named oliver), use of y/n once part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

children LOVE bf!eren and he treats them like they're his friends instead of actual kids

bf!eren 'hangs out' with his nephew instead of babysitting him. he talks to oliver about the basketball game on tv like he's his best mate..... asking for his opinion, if he wants a beer, about his doctor's visit yesterday, 'hey y/n, can i give him some pizza?'..... when ollie is literally 4 months old

bf!eren wears nba jerseys or oversized graphic tees with sweat shorts...... that's just his style. i really can't see him in anything other than sweatpants, a hoodie, and his bigass dunks when he goes out.... sorry to all the fashion girlies 😔

BUT, if it's somewhere important (team dinner, awards night, a wedding, a ball perhaps etc), then he does wear a suit & dress shoes (all black). he's not THAT laidback ok

bf!eren surprises you with your favourite dessert every friday night (not really a surprise atp, but it's the thought that counts <333)

wherever you sit, bf!eren has his arm over the back of the chair/couch you're on

bf!eren LOVES sci-fi movies from the 70s & 80s, hence the back to the future DVDs (part 4), the star wars funko pops (leia, darth vader, chewie, luke) he has around his room, and the framed dune poster in his living room

bf!eren listens to rap music, mostly kendrick, travis, eminem, baby keem, chief keef, yeat... i could go on forever. BUT he also loves 80s rock (eg his bon jovi vinyl (part 4), inxs CDs, and many more), and 90s & 00s club music

you keep extra snacks in your backpack for bf!eren because he gets hungry in class AFKJSAFJ

bf!eren flirts with you 24/7, and pretends to flirt with you as a stranger in public sometimes because he is SILLY

you both have an obsession with taking photos of each other (but find it annoying when the other does it) (e.g. on a picnic, you've got your phone out, ready to take a picture of bf!eren absolutely destroy his sandwich, but when he sees you, he tilts his head and sighs, covering his face with one hand and his other holds the sandwich to his mouth) (e.g. 2. you're reading on the couch, bf!eren is sat across from you, your legs on top of his. and because eren never turns his phone ringer off, you hear him take a photo of you. you groan instantly and cover your face with the book, whining his name. he just giggles and adds it to his folder of photos of you)

bf!eren throws grapes at you when you ignore him (lovingly)

bf!eren buys your favourite album on vinyl so he can keep it at his house

bf!eren likes being the little spoon but will be the big spoon if you don't want to <3

bf!eren plays with your fingers when watching tv/movies because he can't sit still to save his life

bf!eren is a golden retriever boyfriend, but he can be such an asshole!!

in part 2 i mentioned he can be so condescending and petty in an argument, and that's because he doesn't know how to express his emotions in a healthy way (but he's working on it with you!!)

in basketball games against certain colleges, bf!eren gets so fired up and aggressive and lippy. he talks so much shit on the court (he's known for it), and isn't afraid to take shit either (which pisses off the other team, and the whole cycle starts again)

but, it's a bonus for you when he gets off the court because he's looking extra hot..... and he knows it...... asshole

bf!eren is such a gossip too, like he hears ONE thing from jean in passing, and suddenly everyone in the group has heard about it... but everybody already knows not to tell bf!eren anything they don't want anyone else to know (the group still makes jokes about how poor jean got scammed by a fake protein powder website (he lost $200 HA.... sorry))

lmao bf!eren's such a little shit <3

[aiizenn]

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who stays standing at the end of the hall with two grocery bags in one hand while the other carries a pink-haired boy. looking at you as the apartment building owner hands you the key to the door that’s in front of his.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who can’t help but stare at you. the strong and sweet aura that pulled him in, the glowing smile you gave the owner as they said their goodbyes made him feel something inside. something that he hasn’t felt in a very long time.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who waits until you get into your apartment only for him to speed(ish) walk to his door. trying his best to avoid you, his hair was disheveled, his shirt was wrinkled and he had three days worth of dark circles. he wanted to make a good impression, welcoming you, not scaring you.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who waits two whole days until he goes up to your door. he was partially waiting until you completely settled in. his knuckles reach your wooden door, knocking once and twice. his heart beating loudly as he patiently waits for the door to open. the silence made him anxious, what if you weren’t home? he got ready and practiced different conversations you could have—wanting to make it as perfect as possible.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who smiles as soon as the door opens. meeting the beaming smile he saw a few days ago. “hello, i’m the front door neighbor. we wanted to welcome you to the area. we also made these muffins for you, hope you like chocolate.” you look at him and the tiny pink hair boy he was holding hands with, giving both a small smile, feeling warm inside for the sweet gesture. “thank you both, this is so sweet. and of course, i love chocolate.”

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who you get close to in a matter of days. he tells you that he’s been a widower since his son's birth. you also learn more about the little boy named yuji. how he’s a complete sunshine, bright smiles and pure giggles. his father being the opposite, although he displays smiles, they aren’t as big or as lively as his kid.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who soon makes it a tradition to invite you over every friday night and eat with him and his chubby boy. there’s been times when you arrive an hour before to help prepare dinner. even yuji tags along, sitting in his high chair as he “rolls” bread dough with his mini roller pin. light sizzles are heard as nanami places the butter in the pan, topping it with vegetables. concentrated with every movement, making sure everything cooked perfectly. he was easy on the eyes, there’s no denying that nanami was handsome, a handsome yet lonely man.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who gently and lightly places one hand on your waist as he moves you millimeters away to grab a seasoning from the top cabinet. his touch lingering on you, making you feel various things in various places—chest, stomach…in between your legs. clearing your throat you decide to help yuji with his dough. receiving bubbly giggles from him when you build a tiny doughman.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who stays in a daze as he sees you interact with his son. the moment felt perfect for him, he doesn’t remember the last time yuji laughed as much as he does when he’s around you. the apartment didn’t feel like a “house” anymore, but a home instead. he wants nothing more than to keep you close.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who sometimes asks if you could babysit yuji as he works overtime. you’d pick up yuji from daycare and take him places, time would pass by fast as you two had fun together. the adorable boy would call out for his “dada” or “papa” from time to time. it’d make your heart tighten thinking how hard it must’ve been for nanami to raise yuji all on his own.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who buys you roses everytime he gets back from working overtime. “as a thank you” he says after giving them to you. your heart beating faster every time. nanami would give yuji toys or sweets, kissing and hugging the giddy boy after hours of not seeing him. it warmed your heart seeing them together. and in that moment you made a plan.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who is beyond surprised when your “small trip” was actually a trip to the amusement park. laughter filled the rides, screams of joy and fear were heard from the big ones. children and parents playing games, while teenagers made bets. it was all new to him, it was rare when he had the opportunity to spend good quality time with yuji.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who would anxiously but excitedly get in the carousel horse ride with his boy. you’d take pictures of them everytime they appeared. yuji would wave at you every chance he got, his eyes sparkled as he looked at all the other horses. after a few spins you’d join them, sitting on the horse next to the father and son. nanami would also eagerly wait until his turn to play the ‘water balloon game’ , he’d hold yuji and place his fingers on the tool. aiming to the target and spray the water directly, the balloon getting bigger as seconds passed. a loud ‘pop’ is heard and the water splashes everywhere. both winning two cute fluffy white cats with sunglasses.

ʚ · ◞ neighbor!nanami who looks at the fireworks then at you. the wow’s and awe’s of people made the scenery lively. the fireworks reflecting on your eyes, your smile radiating even in the night light. you turn to nanami, wanting to see his reaction, but he’s already looking at you. his soft gaze making your legs weak, he looked so kissable. both of you lean closer, while he leans down, you tip toe. he looks into your eyes for reassurance, and when he sees the twinkle in them, the space between the two of you is no more. his lips on yours, the final firework forming around the two of you, as if it advertised to the world about you and him with the little boy in his arm.

@aiizenn ₓ˚. ୨ৎ

[dearest-painter]

MY perfect family! PT.1

Summary:Being a father of two is hard but when your single? It’s even harder especially as Spider-Man. Finally when you and your kids get back to your earth after being in Earth-1610 you’re immediately added to a society? What happens when you help the anomaly while people are obsessed with you?

TW/CW:Yandere behavior, unhealthy behavior, unhealthy relationship,abusive behavior,abusive relationship,Reader has 2 kids,Reader is a single dad and spider-man in his earth,The baby mama DEAD AS HELL, very out of character characters,this is a series,Reader was with the og spider crew during into the spider verse,people might be out of character,tell me if I need to add more

You and Peter B arrived but you were surprised to see Miles here. “BUBBA!” You chuckled as Evangeline ran to Miles who crouched and picked her up. “Oh look at how much you’ve grown Eve! Did dada do your hair?” “Mhm! Daddy did me and sissy’s hair!” You walked into view as you held Ayano who was munching on her stuffed animals ear. “What can I do, Im quit talented!” Miguel was watching you..as always, it’s honestly quite creepy with how often he just stares at you. Ayano made grabby hands at Miles with a few ‘Ah! Ah!’ Noises. Miles put down Evangeline as he took Ayano. “Hola Aya” She giggled as she grabbed his face, Mayday now had her stuffed animal.

“Miguel doesn’t bite!” You chuckled and shook your head at what Peter B said then mumbled “Yes he does..fucker bites and growl, be very careful” Miles nodded his head as he trust you very much, Ayano was given back to you as Evangeline was sitting and holding onto your leg. Miguel loved the way you took care of your daughters..he loved the way you acted..yet he hated how fucking stubborn you were! You always found a way to piss him off yet make him fall more in love with you! It was annoying!

You weren’t really paying attention as you bounced Ayano a bit as you texted the usual babysitter. ‘Heya Casey, mind babysitting all of next week? I’m going to help my mom at the hospital and need someone to watch them for a bit’ it took a while but he responded. ‘Yes I can! Expect Friday and Sunday as I’ll need to leave early as we’re having a family reunion, is that okay?’ You responded. ‘Of course! I know someone who can take those day!’ ‘Okay thanks Y/N! See ya next week!’ He was a sweet man who was attractive but you were to busy for relationship.

Lyla was watching the entire text go down..luckily it wasn’t romantic to her and Miguel’s relief just you needing a babysitter. Lyla knew the way Miguel stared at you wasn’t fully innocent..she could see the obsession in his eyes but..she’s encouraging while making fun of him. She herself is just happy that someone is making Miguel less of a grump but still a grump, she chuckled as Ayano and Mayday climb him as this happens SO often! Sometimes when you aren’t paying attention he tries to get her to call him Dada and pretend it’s for you.

Peter B was staring at you lovingly as you and your kids payed half attention to Miguel, he’s always loved you since the day he’s looked at you. When you and your kids first met Evangeline was three years old and Ayano was about 5 months old he presumes(FUCK LOGIC!) but goodness you looked hot in and out of your suit. MJ or his MJ doesn’t mind and actually is willing to let him date you but only if your okay with it as she isn’t really mad as she’s also sorta obsessed with you. Miles leaned on you and you ruffled his hair making him smile, your his dad or other father figure and he loves it. Your one of his many father figures he’d kill someone for.

[lottesreads]

Why Me? - Part 3

Pairing: Bob Floyd x Mitchell! Female Reader (Callsign Mantis)

Warnings: Cursing, insecurities, pining, mommy issues, mentions of throw up (no actual), drunkenness

Word Count: 7580

Summary: Friday night has come and it's time for your not date with Bob! He gets a little wary of why you want to spend time with him, but he's not disappointed when it doesn't go according to plan.

A/N: Hello party people! First of all I suck at summaries, second I started school and got very busy so I apologize for posting this next part literally a month later. Let me know what you think! Also, she's a lot longer than the last two, so please enjoy!

Masterlist

The entire week leading up to Friday Bob was a nervous wreck. Your sudden want to get to know him could only be for some kind of malicious intent. He tried as hard as he could to shoo the bad thoughts away, but they kept crawling back in like a cockroach that refused to die. Sometimes he thought he could set them all on fire and be normal. But that wasn’t something you could do. And that wasn’t Bob. As much as he wished he could have a conversation without something in the back of his mind telling him he was being too awkward, or the other person wasn’t interested in what he had to say, it just wasn’t meant to be.

Everyday you would greet him and everyday Bob would greet you back. His mama didn’t raise him without manners, but each time you started talking to him it got harder for him to stop. He had already opened up to you too much. If you cracked his shell anymore, he was afraid all of his feelings would spill out. And you didn’t need to know how much he thought about you. He couldn’t let you know how beautiful or smart he thought you were because then you would know just how much power you have over him. He didn’t want to believe you would abuse that power in any way, but that voice in the back of his head told him otherwise. The damn cockroach wouldn’t die.

Bob was surprising you once again. Everyday before Friday you would ask him a question hoping it would snowball into a conversation, and everytime it did. It might have been small talk each time about the weather, or how he was doing that day, but it was something. Everyday he would tell you he was doing good, and even told you how he was glad it was starting to cool down in the evenings, presumably so he could take Sylvia on walks. At first you didn’t care that he was lying to you. Whenever he told you he was good, he’d give you a small smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It resembled one you’d give to a passing stranger on the street. Bob wasn’t a complete stranger. Maybe he thought you were? Let’s face it, the only thing he knows about you is your name, the fact that you’re Mav’s kid, and you fly in the Navy. Did he even want to know you?

None of that mattered. You wanted to know him, if he didn’t want to have a conversation with you he was just going to have to tell you up front about it. You so desperately needed him to want to talk to you, though. You could cry every instant he reciprocated a conversation. It was like the neighborhood stray had finally taken a liking to you, and you weren’t going to squander this opportunity. Sure this stray had made some friends and was willing to start a conversation with anyone except you, but it was a start.

That Friday wasn’t anything special at work. Each of you had done a hop or two, ending the day with Maverick assigning everyone paperwork so he could leave early. Much to the chagrin of everyone else.

“Hey now, do I need to get Hondo to come in here and babysit you until this is finished?” A resounding ‘no’ was heard as well as a few groans.

“I can keep an eye on everyone for ya’”, Hangman commented. Placing a toothpick in between his teeth. You and everyone else scoffed at this, Fanboy tossing a paper airplane his way as he swatted it.

“I don’t think that’s necessary Hangman, but thank you.” Mav makes his way through the desks but not before stopping in front of yours. You look up from your work as you raise your brows.

“Can I help you, sir?” He takes a seat in the empty chair next to you.

“No, I just wanted to make sure you’d be alright by yourself for the weekend. Just gotta grab a few things from the hangar.” You discreetly glance around, ensuring none of your coworkers are staring at you as your father, not captain, talks to you.

“Yeah, dad, I’ll be fine.” You laugh.

“Ok, that means no parties, no boys”, he lists off on his fingers. Your eyes widen as you avoid the stares and snickers from around you.

“Oh my god! How old do you think I am?”

“Old enough to know better, I’ll see you Sunday”, he kisses the top of your head as he leaves the hangar, patting Bradley on the chest.

“Bye Daddy!” Hangman shouts as Mav rounds the corner.

“You owe me 50 on Monday Hangman!” He yells back from the hallway.

“Damn it!” Hangman mutters. You laugh as you turn to your work, catching Bob’s eye as you do so. Everyone eventually focuses on their own work and is done by 5:00.

You catch Bob as he’s making his way out the door, walking to your cars together.

“Are you excited?”, you ask him with a giddy smile.

“For you to obliterate me in pool?” You knock shoulders with him.

“Oh come on, where’s that confidence we talked about?” He gives you the same smile. The one that doesn’t reach his eyes that he puts on for your benefit. “You don’t have to come tonight if you don’t want to.” You suggest. This is the only out you’re going to give him, you decide. His head snaps towards you as you both stop before your cars.

“No, I do! It’s just, confidence isn’t my strong suit.” His eyes move to the pavement, avoiding your gaze.

“Hey, it’s not mine either. You just gotta fake it ‘til you make it.” He looks up and gives you a slightly bigger smile this time. You walk backwards towards your car, “I’ll see you in an hour!”

He remains in his spot until you drive out of the lot. How did you make it seem so easy? Bob was good at faking other stuff. Faking smiles, level-headedness, but never confidence.

Once back home, he greets Sylvia, taking care of her before getting ready. Oh gosh, what was he supposed to wear? He’s never had a casual work one-on-one hangout before, or whatever this is. Staring in his closet, he decides on a black t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. It’ll be fine. Sylvia stares at him from her spot on his bed.

“What?” She cocks her head. “I know, I know, she’s just a coworker that’s it. And that’s all she’s ever gonna be.” He lets that last part out in a whisper. Trailing his eyes from the bed to the mirror in his closet. What would you even see in him? He knows he doesn’t look like any of the other guys on their squad. He’s just a nerd who for some reason you want to absolutely kill in pool. Maybe that was it, he was just another person to practice with. To knock down a few pegs. Build up his confidence just to tear it all down. Stupid cockroach.

You get to the Hard Deck a little early to stake a claim at the usual table. You wave at Penny as you walk in, racking the balls and securing two cues. It’s not too busy right now, but you know that’ll change when the Friday night crowd comes in. Right as you break you spot Bob walking up to you, hands in the pockets of his jeans. The black t-shirt hugging his biceps just right.

“Hey sailor.”

“Now if I’d have known you were coming here early to practice I wouldn’t have shown up at all.” You let out a laugh at his comment. “Save my dignity.”

“Now Bob”, you align your shot, “in order to lose dignity you have to have it in the first place.” His smile is wide and mouth is open as you turn back around.

“Oh that’s how it’s gonna be now?” You shrug and hand him a cue.

“You’re stripes.” He takes the cue from you and lets a crooked smile replace his shock. In that instant you know that’s the real one. He doesn’t try to present it to you, it’s just his natural smile. One you think would rarely be captured on camera. God do you wanna take a picture and just stare at it. You shake your head at the thought. Teammate. He is your teammate and you are doing this for the team.

You learn that Bob was not lying when he said you’d obliterate him. You end up winning unsurprisingly, but decide to give him a little mercy.

“Alright, now that the practice round is done, you ready to actually play?”

“That was only the practice round?”

“Come on, now that you’ve got a taste you’re ready for it.”

“If you say so.” Bob starts to rack the balls as you retrieve drinks. A coke for him and a beer for you. You were still planning on driving home, so this was the only drink you were planning on having tonight. The key word there: planning.

Penny hands you your drinks and you maneuver your way back to Bob, only it wasn’t Bob leaning over the table and taking a shot. A large Hawaiian shirt was obstructing your view as he stood back up.

“Rooster.” He turns around victoriously after making his shot. Face falling into a smug smile.

“Mantis.”

“What are you doing?” “What’s it look like?”He returns to the table and takes another shot, “I’m beating Phoenix.” You look across the table and spot Phoenix giving you an apologetic smile. Bob at her side giving a similar look.

“No, I mean what are you doing at my table? Bob and I were in the middle of a game.” He misses his next shot allowing Phoenix to take hers. “Really Phoenix?”

“Bob said it was ok, you hadn’t started yours yet.” She defends. You look at Bob again and he walks over to you.

“Really it’s fine” he comments, “we can take turns.” You hand him his drink.

“Fine.” Rooster saddles up to your other side, resting his hands on the cue.

“Oh come on, did mommy never teach you to share?” Your grip around the neck of your bottle tightens as he smiles at his own joke. A couple laughs sound from around you, alerting to the fact Coyote and Hangman have shown up.

“Low blow dickwad.” You peer over his shoulder, “Phoenix, let us know when you’re done beating his ass.” With that you walk over to the wall of the bar and take a seat, setting the beer down on the table, rubbing the condensation from your hands on your jeans. Bob follows and sits next to you.

“I’m sorry.” Bob lets out, you glance over and notice the sullen expression on his face. Completely wiping Rooster’s last comment from your mind.

“It’s fine, you were just being nice. Rooster over there just knows how to get under my skin, and I thought he pushed you off our table.”

“Oh no, they asked nicely.” He reassures you. He follows your gaze to Rooster as you scowl. “What’s up with you and Rooster anyway?” You shake your head as he prepares himself to ask his next question, “Is he an ex?”

You nearly spit your drink out as your eyes widen in terror, “Oh god no! That’s disgusting.” Bob lets out a breath of relief. “No, he actually used to be like a brother to me.”

“What happened?” You look at him as you take a sip of your drink, not wanting to get Bob involved in your family life.

“That’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time”, your stomach clenches as you stare at his wide eyes, so earnest in everything he’s been saying. Now it’s his want to get to know you that has you shifting in your seat. Unaware of a set of eyes watching your entire interaction.

Phoenix’s whistle breaks your gazes away from each other as you walk over to the table.

“How’d you do Phoenix?”

“Not very good, Bradshaw here beat me.” You look at her in utter disappointment. “What can I say, he’s good.” You scoff as Bob starts to rack the balls. You stare at Rooster from across the table.

“He’s not as good as he likes to think.” You let Bob break and the game begins. Your attention focuses back to him as the rest of the squad linger around the edge. Your smile comes easy when you talk to Bob, almost completely forgetting about everyone else. So far he’s doing a lot better than he was in your practice round, but it’s still not good enough. You call your last shot before it falls in, smiling at Bob apologetically.

“There is no way he wasn’t letting you win”, you turn around and find Rooster waiting for his turn.

“Excuse me?”

“If my memory serves correctly, you were absolutely horrible the last time I played you.”

“The last time you played me I was like 12. I’ve had time to practice while you’ve been deteriorating.” That does it as he stands up and stalks toward you.

“You calling me old?” You stand toe to toe with him, not about to back down.

“Yeah I am, unless you’re up for a rematch old man?”

“You’re on.” The entire squad is staring at the both of you as Fanboy resets the table, delighted in what he’s about to see. “Say, since we don’t have to fly tomorrow, care to make this interesting?”

“What? Worried you’re gonna bore us all to death?”

“Nah, I just wanna see if you can hold your liquor as well as you can shoot. For every shot you miss, you take one. Dealer’s choice.” You squint at him, not willing to back down from the challenge.

“Fine, tequila. Loser pays.” You push your cue into Rooster’s hands as you turn to take Bob’s. “I am so sorry about this Bob, just let me beat him real quick and then we’ve got the table to ourselves.” He hesitantly gives up his cue.

“Are you sure about this?” You pat his shoulder.

“I’m gonna be fine.” He gives you a small smile and nod, relinquishing the little control he has of the situation.

The game begins as Rooster breaks, taking a shot provided by Payback as you take your turn. The game continues on, you only taking two shots while Rooster has three. He’s starting to slip up, making you more confident. You look up and smirk at Bob as a striped ball falls into the pocket across from him. You move to take your next shot as Rooster leans down next to you.

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“What do you mean? I’m here to pummel you.”

“I mean with Bob.” You turn your head to look at him, then to Bob before aligning your shot.

“What are you talking about?” You pull your stick back, before striking the cue ball he gets closer.

“I just thought I’d remind you that fraternization is strictly forbidden.” Your hand slips as your shot goes way off the course you intended. You look up at him as he stands. “Don’t wanna see you get kicked off this team.” He hands you a shot as you take it, your eyes closing. Your heart is beating erratically. There is no way he knows you like Bob. Not a chance in hell. You glance back at Bob as he gives you a thumbs-up, then back to Rooster’s concentrated face as he lines up his next shot. 

The game continues to stay pretty even after that, shot after shot missed, the alcohol making it harder to stay accurate. You have one striped ball left on the table as Rooster attempts to end it all. Thinking this is gonna be it, you turn to Phoenix and in a whisper yell ask, “Do you think you could give me a ride later? I think I’m drunk!”. She smiles and pats your shoulder, whisper-yelling back.

“You’re lucky I knew this was gonna happen, of course I can!” Hearing Rooster and a couple others groan you turn around and notice he missed his shot. This was it, you make these last two and you win. You shut your eyes hard, attempting to get rid of some of the drunken haze.

The striped ball was a clean shot into the pocket and you let out a breath of relief. It was all down to this. Rooster is staring you down from his seat, making you a little nervous. You bend down and align your shot, taking one glance back up finding Bob. He gives you a crooked smile and you focus back on the table, “Left corner.” Everyone holds their breath as you draw back, hitting the cue, driving the 8 ball into your chosen pocket. Cheers erupt from around you as you place the cue back on the table. Your gaze meets Rooster again, this time it’s you with the smug smile, “Hope you learned your lesson grandpa!” A few oohs are heard as Bob walks over to you, holding his hands out for a couple high-fives.

“You’re amazing, that was awesome!” Everything around the table goes quiet. You continue to stare at him, attempting to say something but nothing coming out.

Something had changed. Maybe it was the alcohol, or the lighting, or maybe just Bob, but you realized every time you saw him your heart sped up a little and your stomach dropped. If you thought about it, this wasn’t even the first time this happened. This is just the first time you understood why. You were sure he could see it happen in real time. The way his eyes flicked down to your open mouth and back up to your glazed over expression.

“Are you ok?”he asks, concern drawing his features in. You could barely hear him through all the static ringing through your ears. You saw his mouth move and continue to stare at it through groggy eyes until you look upward. You were sure you and everything around you was moving in slow motion.

“What?” you asked, raising your eyebrows. His brow furrowed even more at your question.

“I asked if you were ok?” Oh no. He saw right through you. Jutting out your bottom lip and blinking wide you respond, trying to act as casual as ever.

“Yep. Everything is just great.” His eyes scan you once more. He steps toward you, obviously concerned, and as much as you want him to get closer, you turn to see Bradley’s eyes on you. Even through the haze, you can sense the suspicion in them. He didn’t actually know anything, at least that’s what you kept telling yourself. Still looking at Bradley, you barely make out Bob’s voice.

“Are you sure? You kinda had a lot to drink” You look back to him and nod, trying to give him a smile.

“Yeah, I’m fine”, you let out in a high pitched voice. You take a step back hoping to create some distance between the two of you, and before you can even fully set your foot on the spilled beer beneath your shoe, you feel yourself falling backwards. In a matter of seconds before you can reach the floor, Bob grabs one of your outreached arms, his other steadying you by your hip. He pulls you close to his chest as you regain your balance. A small squeal leaves your mouth as you’re left feeling Bob. His large hands on your bare arm, your hip, and his chest against yours. It’s almost too much. It is too much. Your heart rate has sped up from almost falling, but it is not coming down anytime soon. Your breath is starting to go shallow as you look up to Bob’s face, eyes blown wide on both of you. The contrast of everything moving too slowly to almost too fast has you dizzy. That or the fact you are close enough to Bob you can feel the heat emanating off of his skin, his scent infiltrating your senses. You need to breathe in the oxygen around you, but you only want to so you can keep breathing him in instead.

Everything surrounding the two of you ceases to exist. The beat from the jukebox fades into your and Bob’s heartbeats, beating simultaneously at their own pace. You don’t want to blink and miss a second of being this close to him. Who knows when you’d get another chance? Thinking this has sobered you up, you try to focus on his deep blue eyes. Have they always been this blue? If he allowed it, you could drown in those oceans he seems to hide behind those wire frames.

The dizziness is sneaking back in the longer you stare. Oh god. How long have you been staring? And more importantly how long has he been staring back? His eyes look between yours as you try to keep up. The motion makes your head spin even more. He swallows as your sight follows the bob of his Adam's apple, making you shiver. He opens his mouth once more.

“Are you alright?”, he breaks the spell he put you under. His voice is softer but just as deep as his grip continues to hold you upright. God, you can still feel his large hands on you. Your face is hot, you can’t tell if it’s from the alcohol or Bob. The ambience from the bar resumes around you, seemingly louder than it was before. You stare back at his eyes once more, trying to decide which of them to focus on. Oh no, that’s a bad idea. Your head rings as you lose focus on his face in front of you.

“I think I had too much to drink '', you manage to slip out. In an attempt to see if anyone had witnessed your drunken “fall”, your head lulls back and creates dark spots in your vision.

“Whoa, ok!” Bob’s grip tightens around your arm and hip as your legs start to give out. He glances around and finds an empty chair to set you in, walking you backwards until you fall unceremoniously in the sticky blue seat. Your eyes are drooping but a small smile remains on your face. He allows his hand to leave your hip, while the other remains on your arm. “Hey Mantis?”. You continue to stare through that drunk smile, eyes blinking at a slow rate. “Mantis?” He furrows his brow. And then he says your name. Not your call-sign. Not Mitchell. Your given first name. Without skipping a beat you pipe up.

“Yes Robert?”. You begin to giggle uncontrollably at your use of his name. Bob wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he didn’t want to hear you say his name again. He so desperately did, but right now you were drunk. And he needed to get you home safe. Still, he can’t help but smile at your child-like laughter, questioning the sudden switch from out of breath to laughing.

“Do you have a ride home?”

“Yep!” Bob waits for you to tell him who, giving up as you continue to stare at him with a dopey smile.

“Can you tell me who it is?” He asks slowly.

“Oh! It was Phoenix”. 

“Really? Phoenix offered to be your DD?”

“Yeah”, you furrow your brows, your head falls back as you try to spot her, “but I haven’t been able to find her.” Bob, as if on instinct, jumps forward and braces his hand on the back of your neck to prevent you from hurting yourself. You rest the weight of your head in his hand, placing your complete trust in the fact he won’t let you go. He stares down at you as you look up at him. A small laugh slips through your lips. “Hi.” Bob once again can’t help but smile. For a moment he lets himself admire your soft features in the lighting of the Hard Deck. The warm lighting offers up how your smile causes the skin around your eyes to crease. It’s not forced by any means, just content. And he can’t help but believe you are. The cockroach is nowhere to be found as he looks down at you.

“Hi”, he gets out through his smile. He glances up from you and finds Phoenix still at the pool table with Rooster and Coyote. Farther away now that he has you at a table. He looks back down at you only to notice your gaze never tore away from him. “Are you gonna be ok if I go and grab Phoenix?”. Your eyes roll back as you sigh.

“I guess”, you let out dejectedly. Bob lets out a small laugh through his nose at the sight. His thumb moves of its own accord as he rubs the skin behind your ear.

“I’ll be right back, ok?”

“Promise?”, you ask, your smile falling ever so slightly.

“I promise”, he reassures you. “Can’t leave you too long or you might fall out of your seat. If you need me just holler, ok?”. The smile makes its way back to your face as he continues to caress your skin.

“Ok”, you say just loud enough for him to hear you.

“Ok”. Bob very gently repositions your chair for you to lay your head on the table behind you. It doesn’t look very comfortable but he knows this is the only way you won’t have your head hanging off the back of the seat. You continue to stare at him while he does this, and once he has you properly situated he gives you one last look before walking through the other patrons to get to Phoenix. 

As he gets through a few more people to approach the pool table he sees Phoenix as she stands before Rooster with his head in his hands. Bob walks closer to her, hesitant to interrupt their conversation.

“Is everything ok over here?”. Phoenix immediately turns around, obviously taking a break from scolding Rooster.

“Yeah everything’s just great. Bird-brain over here just decided to enter a drinking contest without securing a ride so now I get to take two drunk idiots home.” She motions to Rooster over her shoulder with her thumb. Bob takes a second to look at him, noticing the green hue on his face. Bob’s mouth moves faster than his brain.

“I can take Mantis home.” Phoenix’s brow raises as Rooster looks up through his fingers.

“You will?”

“Yeah, it’s no problem. I’d feel bad leaving her with you, I’m the reason she came here tonight in the first place.” Bob peaks a glance down at his shoes to avoid the look Phoenix is pointing his way. “Plus, I don’t think Mantis would take too well to riding in the same car with- well with um, Rooster.” Bob looks to Rooster’s half-lidded gaze and back to Phoenix.

“You’ve got a good point there. Ok, so I’ll drag Rooster’s drunk ass back home and you sure you got Mantis? She can be kind of a handful when she drinks too much.” Before Bob is able to verify he’ll get you home safely, Rooster chuckles and pipes up.

“I’m sure Bob could handle a couple handfuls of Mantis’ drunk ass.” Bob’s eyes widen and his face immediately turns red at Rooster’s comment as Phoenix hits his shoulder.

“No! No, I would never get a handful of- of Mantis’ ass- especially if she was, if she was drunk.” He immediately cringes at his own choice of words while Rooster continues to laugh from his seat. Bob takes his glasses off and rubs the bridge of his nose, not able to meet anyone's line of sight. “What I mean is-”

“Bob”, Phoenix interjects, placing a hand on his shoulder, “it’s fine. We get what you mean, Rooster here is just an asshole.” She punctuates the sentence by hitting him once more.

“Ow”, he lets out, staring at Phoenix with genuinely hurt eyes.

“You’re fine, let’s get outta here before you ralph all over my car.”

“Ok mom.” Bob doesn’t watch as they walk away but hears Rooster cry out in pain once more.

With that all taken care of Bob shoots a text to his neighbor asking to let Sylvia out. He doesn’t think he’ll be able to get you home safely with enough time to take care of her. He makes his way back through the crowd to the table he left you at, but you aren’t there. Bob panics, searching around the bar frantically. There is no way you could have gotten far, especially not in your state. He practically runs to the bar in hopes of asking Penny if she saw where you got to, all while still scanning the room for you. He hears you before he sees you. Sitting at the bar, laughing while talking to Penny herself. He lets out a sigh of relief and allows himself to catch his breath. The scene reminds him of every time he’d see you sitting at that same bar, laughing with someone who wasn’t him. Always too afraid to approach you.

You turn your head and spot him standing there staring at you. Your mouth breaks out in a wide smile as you open your arms. “Ay! It’s Robert! You came back for me!” He walks over to where you sit as Penny wipes down glasses behind the bar. “Penny, he came back!” She smiles at your eagerness.

“I can see that.”

“How’d you get all the way over here?”Bob asks as you lower your hands.

“Well, Robert, like most people I used my feet.”

“Oh, did you now? Cause they didn’t seem to be working too well earlier.” You bob your head in a nod.

“It’s a miracle! I saw Penny like a guiding light and just had to come over to see her” you smile, amazed at yourself. Bob has really got to get you home.

“Well that’s great, I’m glad Penny was able to keep an eye on you. Are you ready to go?” You furrow your brows and look behind him.

“Where’s Phoenix?” You let out through pouty lips.

“Slight change of plan, Phoenix has to take Rooster home so if it’s ok I was gonna be your driver for the night.” You grimace at Rooster’s name, but immediately lighten up at the prospect of Bob taking you home.

“Ok!” Bob is taken aback at your eagerness, afraid you would have only wanted Phoenix to drive you.

“Really?”

“Yeah!” You immediately gasp and turn back toward Penny, “You cannot let my dad know a boy is taking me home!” Penny tries her best to hold back a smile as she looks to Bob who already is mortified at your implication. Penny takes both your hands in her own.

“My lips are sealed”, she mimes zipping and locking her mouth as she lets you go. “Get home safe you two.” Bob nods at her in appreciation as he turns to you.

“Think your legs are still working?” You scoff at him while sliding out from the chair. You get out successfully but as you take your first step you stumble. Bob immediately is behind you, supporting you with both of his arms underneath yours. “Ok, I’ll take that as a no.”

“Hey” you laugh, “they were working earlier!” Readjusting, Bob snakes his arm around your waist, grabbing your arm and throwing it over his shoulders. You immediately quiet as you sink into Bob, allowing him to guide you out of the bar and to his truck. Bob is being as respectful as he can, trying to keep his hand in the exact same spot on your waist. Never wandering. It’s only there to support you, but he can’t help but feel the warmth of you beneath his hand, and the aroma of your floral shampoo just under his nose.

Your hand has a surprisingly firm grip on his shoulder as you trek through the parking lot. The gravel and sand shuffling beneath your feet. It’s a slow journey, as Bob doesn’t want to risk you tripping and falling, but you finally make it. It’s a modest truck, not too big, not too small, but the step to get into it is massive compared to your skillset right now. You look up at the truck as if it’s Mt. Everest. “That’s a big step”, you let out. Your eyes meet the top as your head rolls back. You sway as Bob grips you just a bit tighter.

“Oh that step? Come on, you got this.” You look up at him skeptically. “Here, I’ll help you”. He very slowly turns you around so your back is to the seat and you’re staring up at him. He takes your hands and places them on his shoulders, they have never felt smaller before than they do now on top of him. “Is this ok?” he breathes out, aware of how close you are once again. You squeeze his shoulders, feeling the muscle tense from beneath his t-shirt.

You swallow, “Yeah.” He has got to stop putting himself in this situation.

“Ok, I’m gonna put my hands on your hips and when I say jump, you’re gonna jump and I’m gonna lift onto the seat. Ok?” You nod at him through wide eyes.

“Ok.” Bob finally slides his hands from off of your arms to your hips, squeezing once. Goosebumps break out all over your body, despite the heat radiating off of both of you. “Alright, 1, 2, 3, jump!” You do as he says as he grips your hips, lifting you off of the ground and into his truck. Leaving you more light-headed than you were before. He helps to push your legs into the cab, forcing you to face forward. He steps down and as softly as he can shuts the door, ensuring none of your limbs would get caught.

You watch him round the front as he opens his own door, climbing into his seat with ease. He reaches for his seatbelt before turning to you. “Do you need help with yours?”. You shake your head, reaching for your own. You pull it only for it to get stuck, you pull it again. Still stuck. Bob watches you struggle with it one more time before reaching over, letting it retract into the seat, and then pulling it over you, and buckling it in. The entire time you watch his large hand travel just slightly over your chest and torso, never actually touching you. You turn your face to his, and he looks up to you through his glasses.

“Thank you”, you whisper.

“You’re welcome”, he whispers back. He moves back into his own seat before putting on his seatbelt and starting the truck. The engine roaring to life breaks you out of your quiet trance. The radio starts to play as he pulls out of the parking lot. You can distantly hear him humming to the tune, but you lean your head and stare out the window.

You want to imagine a moment where you’re sober and Bob gives you all this attention, but you come up empty. He’s only doing this out of obligation to get you home safely. God you were so stupid for getting drunk. Tonight was supposed to be about getting to know Bob, not him having to take care of you.

“You doin’ ok over there?”, his voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“Mhm”, you smile at him. Still not able to open your eyes quite all the way.

Bob watches as you lean your head against the window once again. He looks back to the road and realizes he’s almost got you home. He feels slight disappointment in his chest. He wants to spend more time with you, but probably knows you won’t want to again when you’re sober. He tries not to dwell on that fact, but hopes this won’t be the last time you end up in his truck. He hopes your perfume lingers after you’re gone so he can remember just how much fun he had with you tonight.

Bob pulls up to your house and puts the truck in park. You must have fallen asleep at some point on the drive because you jolt awake when the engine stops. “Are we here already?” You whine. He leans over and unbuckles your seatbelt.

“I’m afraid we are.” He rounds the truck, opening your door. You instinctively go to place your hands on his shoulders as he grasps your hips and slides you out of the cab. He steadies you again, in the same fashion he did when you left the Hard Deck, and walks you up the steps to the door. After fumbling with your keys you manage to open the door as he helps you walk in.

Bob’s plan was to let your dad take care of you and get you to bed safely, but he doesn’t notice any sign of life. All the lights are off as the both of you stop in the hallway. You grope the wall and let out an “aha” as you turn the light switch on. You wince at the bright light, moving your head to rest in between Bob’s shoulder and neck. He tries his best to slow his breathing as he feels your hot breath on his neck. You must feel his heart threatening to beat out of his chest at this point. “Mantis?”

“Yeah”, you whisper into his neck. He shivers.

“Is your dad home?” You sigh, your breath tickling him.

“No, he had to grab some stuff from the desert and won’t be back ‘til Sunday.” Bob’s the one that sighs this time. That must be why he left early today. He reaches behind you two, locking the door. He didn’t like the idea of leaving you drunk and alone in the house, so after he gets you to bed he’s decided on staying on the couch. Just to make sure you’re ok. “Are we having a sleepover?”.

“Yep, we are having a sleepover and now it’s time you go to bed. Where’s your room?”

“Up the stairs to the left” you mumble. There is no way you’re going to be able to walk up the stairs, even with Bob’s help. Deciding it’s in both your best interests to not fall down a flight of stairs, he removes his hand from your waist and moves you to face him.

“If it’s alright with you, I’m gonna pick you up and carry you.” You stare at him with wide eyes and let out a laugh.

“I mean, you can try.” Bob braces his arms beneath your shoulders and knees, bending down and taking you with him as he stands to his full form. You let out a small yelp, surprised at his sudden display of strength. Your arms connect behind his neck as he begins to ascend the stairs. He keeps his eyes forward the entire time, not daring to look down at you and trip. You stare at his bicep straining from underneath his t-shirt, then the hand that grasps you at the knees. Your head is still resting on his shoulder. Bob makes you feel weightless as you lock your eyes on his mouth. His pretty mouth that is so close to your face right now. Even through your drunken haze you can tell he’s trying his best not to breathe too loudly, whether for your sake or his you’re not sure.

All too soon he arrives at your room and gingerly sets you down on your bed. Resting your head carefully on the pillows. He finally takes a glance at your face and then down at your clothes. “Do you have any pajamas you want to change into?” You nod and sit up, pointing to your dresser straight across from your bed. “Which drawer?” He rubs the back of his neck and avoids your gaze, “I don’t wanna see anything you don’t want me to.”

You laugh, “Second drawer from the bottom”. He points at it, checking with you that it was in fact the right one. You nod your head at him. You stare at his back while he leans down and rifles through your pajamas. The sight makes you dizzy, prompting you to lie back into the comfort of your bed once more.

Bob finds a pair of shorts and an old team t-shirt. Those will do. He walks back over to you with the clothes in hand and sets them down. “Do you need to go to the bathroom, brush your teeth?” You open your eyes at him and frown.

“Are you saying my breath smells bad?”.

“No!”Bob wasn’t not saying that. To be frank you smelled like a distillery, but that wasn’t the reason for his concern. “I just know that whenever I don’t brush my teeth I always wake up and feel gross. Don’t want that to happen now, do we?”. You shake your head, frown falling away. Slowly, you sit up and swing your feet over the bed. Bob grabs your arm and helps you walk to the bathroom connected to your room. Gently closing the door, he stays close by in case you fall. He glances at the bed and notices the pajamas he set out for you. Quickly making his way back to the bed he grabs them, knocking on the door as the water runs.

You open it with your toothbrush dangling out of your mouth, eyes half open. He holds the clothes out to you and smiles, “You forgot these.” Grabbing them you thank him, closing the door once more. With his back to you, Bob waits until he hears it open. You emerge in your pajamas, smiling.

“You’re still here.” Bob is immediately concerned at your surprise. Did you want him to leave? What is he talking about, of course you wanted him to leave. He rubs the back of his neck.

“Sorry about that, I just wanted to make sure you made it to your bed alright.” He holds out his arms once again and you grab onto them. This time he walks backwards until he reaches your bed, making sure you get under the covers. Bob wants to run his hand over the wild mess that is your hair, but he refrains.“Alright, ‘night Mantis.” He starts to make his way to leave your bedroom.

“Where you goin’?”, he hears through the muffle of your pillow. Turning to see you’ve shifted on your side, staring at him through one eye. “I thought we were having a sleepover?”

“We are, I’m just gonna crash on the couch.” You let out a huff.

“Sleepover means you gotta sleep in the same room”, drool is now starting to seep out of your mouth from its position on your pillow. Bob stares at you incredulously.

“Mantis”, he starts.

“Robeeerrrt” you whine. “You gotta make sure I don’t choke on my own throw up in my sleep.” He grimaces at the thought and slips his shoes off, walking over to steal a pillow to set on the floor.

“What are you doin’? Just get in the bed. I have some sweatpants that’ll fit you… I think.” Bob takes up the offer on your sweatpants, searching through the same drawer until he finds them. He turns his head ensuring you’re facing the other way as he changes.

“I’ll be just fine on the floor.” The pants are a little short on his legs but work better than the jeans he was wearing.

“If you’re stayin’ you’re sleepin’ in bed. That’s my final offer.” Through the lamplight he can make out the pout on your face. Staring at the floor and sighing he begrudgingly walks over to the side of the bed pulling back the covers and getting in. He turns over, taking his glasses off and turning the lamp off. Once he’s settled he can only stare at the ceiling as his arms lay clasped over his stomach. His entire body is tense, scared to move a muscle and accidentally touch you.

He can’t believe he’s in your bed right now. This is not how he imagined a sleepover with you going. Obviously you are very drunk and he remains respectful by sticking to his side, but you are lying right next to him. His heart beats at the thought of every time you touched him tonight. It was more than he could bear. Most of them were for stability but he couldn’t help but want it to happen as often as possible.

His thoughts are broken by the sound of the sheets rustling as you move closer to him and lay a hand on his chest. “”Night Bobby.”

He very carefully raises his own and rests it over yours. “Night Mantis.” He doesn’t want the morning to come. You’ll surely be too sick to remember anything, but he’ll remember it all. He shoos his thoughts away as your breaths guide him to sleep, your hand grounding him in this moment. His hand is clasped over yours, your palm right above his heart. Just where it should be.

[immeasurablesaladagere]

ur doing gods work for the house md agere community we salute u 🫡 can we please get a little!chase fic w/ cg!wilson ?

Lil Chase, my beloved. Little content warning for Chase's backstory and his feelings about it, this one's a bit angsty, but happy ending with cg Wilson fluff to make the medicine go down :)

*pats head of Chase* This kid can fit so many mommy issues.

-----

Word Count: 1983

Summery: Wilson gets a call from Chase after-hours. He needs a pickup from a bar after his regression is triggered by something that reminds him of his past, and he's unable to get himself home.

-----

Just as Wilson was about to sit down on the couch to enjoy a night of pizza, beer, and watching the game, his phone rang. He groaned. So close.

“Popular with the babes, are we?.” House said, mouth full of pizza and distracted by football.

“It’s probably work. I can’t just have one night to myself, can I?” He grumbled, fishing his phone out from his coat pocket. He liked to keep it out of sight when he was off work, but it always came back to haunt him anyway.

“Cancer babes then, even better.”

“Cancer babes? God, you’re terrible.” It amazed him sometimes just how often House came up with new ways to violate the most basic forms of decency. After over a decade of friendship he figured he would be desensitized to it by now. As much as he wanted to let the phone ring out, he knew that if it was the hospital he needed to pick up, so he answered it. “Hello, this is James Wilson?”

The other end of the line was filled with background noise. “Hey Wilson, it’s Chase.”

Huh. Chase wasn’t working that night, as far as he knew, and it didn’t sound like he was in the hospital. Maybe it wasn’t a work call after all? 

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Are you looking for House?” He didn’t think he remembered House’s phone going off, but maybe he had put it on do-not-disturb to avoid talking to people. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“Uh… No, not— Well, kind of. I um… Could you pick me up from the bar?” Chase’s voice was strange and unsteady, almost lost to the noise that Wilson now knew was rowdy-bar ambiance. Wilson’s confusion must have shown on his face, because House raised a curious eyebrow at him from the couch.

“Who is it?”

Chase, he mouthed silently. “I… guess so? Can’t you call a taxi?”

There was a bit of shuffling before he responded. “No.” He didn’t elaborate any further.

“And why not?”

“Because I…” Chase made a choked sound that sounded almost like a whine, “Because I’m kinda regressing and I-I can’t—“ His voice was wavering, “I just need to go home. Please.”

Oh. There was no way Chase would choose to regress in a bar which meant it had been triggered somehow, and a bar was probably the worst place Chase could be if he was little.

“Oh yeah, okay. Okay. I’ll come get you.” He grabbed his coat and tugged it on, “Are you in a safe place right now?”

“…Think so, I’m in a booth by myself. I wanna go home.”

“I know you do, I’ll be there as soon as I can. Which bar?”

“Milly’s.”

It wasn’t far. He could probably get there in twenty minutes, maybe fifteen if he drove quickly. “Okay. Stay where you are, I’ll come find you. Try to stay big until I get there, alright?”

“Okay…”

He hung up and grabbed his keys from the bowl on the entry table. 

House paused the TV. “One of the ducklings?” He asked with a knowing look.

“Something set Chase off and he’s regressed at a bar. I’m going to pick him up.” He tugged on his shoes.

“And let me guess, we’re babysitting tonight, then?”

“I’m not just going to leave him at his apartment by himself, House.”

House nodded and stood up, grabbing the unopened beer bottles with his free hand. “I didn’t think you would. I’ll get rid of these, go get the kid.”

“Thank you. I’ll be right back.”

-

He managed to make it to Milly’s without a speeding ticket. It was a Friday night, so he wasn’t surprised to see that that bar was packed, overflowing out the front doors as drunk college students stumbled in and out. He could hear the obnoxiously loud music from outside, and air inside was stuffy and smelled like weed. He sure was a long way from his partying days… God he felt old. He pushed his way to the back of the bar, scanning for Chase until he eventually he spotted his blonde hair tucked into the corner of one of the furthest booths where the crowd had thinned to old men drinking alone.

Chase didn’t look great. He was hunched over and looking around anxiously, but he also didn’t look entirely present. Something had obviously scared him, but he would have to wait to find out what.

Wilson approached the booth slowly. “Chase?” He had to shout to overpower the volume of the bar, but he tried to make it as unthreatening as possible.

The second Chase recognized him, he shot up out of his seat and instantly latched onto his jacket sleeve. “Wanna go.” He said urgently. 

He refused to make eye contact, staring hard at the floor, and he clung to Wilson’s back the entire walk back out to the car. It took some light prompting to get him to let go, but once he did Wilson guided him into the passenger seat and buckled him in before getting in himself.

It was painfully silent as they pulled away from the bar and started back towards his and House’s apartment. Wilson’s mind was whirring with questions and possible scenarios that could’ve lead Chase to this. It was unsettling to see a little who was usually happy and sweet reduced to staring blankly out the passenger window. But Chase would talk if he was ready, he reminded himself.

After a few minutes Chase seemed to rouse slightly, taking notice of their surroundings. “Where are we going?” He asked quietly. His voice was high-pitched and soft, a tell-tale sign that he was regressed completely.

“I’m taking you back to mine and House’s place. We’re going to look after you tonight, is that alright?”

“Don’t have to, I’ll be okay.” Chase muttered, looking uncomfortable. It was better than staring off into the void.

“I know you will, but it would make me feel better if you stayed with us.” 

Chase seemed to consider this, then shrugged slightly and tucked his knees up to his chest in the seat. “Okay.”

Wilson didn’t have the heart to tell him not to sit like that, so he just let him be. He was about to turn on the radio when Chase spoke again.

“…She looked like Mum.” 

Wilson winced. “Who did, buddy?”

“A lady at the bar. She looked like Mum.” Chase sniffled.

Well, there was his answer. Chase hadn’t disclosed every detail of his past to him and House, but he knew that his mother was a neglectful alcoholic for most of his life. It made sense that seeing someone that looked like her getting drunk at the bar would upset him.

Wilson reached across the centre console and put a gentle hand on his shoulder, rubbing small, comforting circles as best he could while keeping his eyes on the road. He didn’t know what to say, and he didn’t like not knowing what to say. Between him and House, it was his job to be good at the “emotional, mushy side”, as House would so-lovingly call it. He was good at comfort, he was good at kind words and fixing boo-boos, but when it came to this… 

“I’m sorry, Robbie...” 

They stayed like that until they drove into the parking lot, and then Chase kept a firm grip on his jacket until they got up to the apartment.

“We’re back!” Wilson called, shutting the door.

House hobbled out from the living room carrying a stack of folded pyjamas with a stuffed dog balanced on top like it was sitting, both from the bin of supplies they kept for situations like this one, and held it out to Chase. “Here. Go change and come back, we’ll find you a movie to watch or something.”

Chase hesitantly took them and silently shuffled off to the bathroom.

“So, what’s wrong with him? Kiddie usually only looks that miserable when he’s an adult.”

Wilson rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. “He saw a drunk woman in the bar who looked like his mom, apparently.” He said in a hushed voice, “You should’ve seen him earlier, he was just staring off at nothing.”

He walked to the living room and threw his jacket over the back of the armchair, and to his surprise, the living room was completely different than when he’d left. The alcohol was gone, but it was also slightly cleaner. A small stack of children’s movie DVD’s sat on the coffee table, and there was a small pile of snacks beside them. “Huh. I didn’t think you were so proactive.”

House gasped in mock-offence and sat on the couch. “How dare you? I take my roll as part-time babysitter very seriously.”

“Sure.” 

He went to the kitchen and grabbed a green sippy cup from the cupboard, filling it up with water from the sink. He wasn’t sure how much alcohol Chase had before he called, and even if he didn’t seem drunk a cup of water wouldn’t hurt. When he came back to the living room Chase was sitting on the end of the couch opposite House, wearing the pyjamas and holding the stuffed dog tightly to his chest. Aw.

Wilson handed him the sippy cup and sat down in between them, sifting through the stack of movies. “So, what are we watching?”

“I was just about to ask that myself.” House said, “We have Finding Nemo, all of the Toy Story’s, Lilo and Stitch—“

“Lilo and Stitch.” Chase cut him off, grabbing the case and pushing it into Wilson’s hands, “Can we watch it, please?”

Wilson smiled. “Sure.”

His his credit, Chase made it more than halfway through the movie before he began to doze off, slowly drooping to lean against Wilson. He gently took the sippy cup away before it could spill water all over the couch, and with his hands now free, Chase wrapped both arms back around his dog and nuzzled into it.

“I think someone’s sleepy, don’t you, House?”

House shook his head. “No I’m fine, thanks. Him on the other hand…”

Chase didn’t object at all. His eyes were closed, and as much as it pained him, Wilson knew he would have to get up now if he wanted to sleep in his own bed tonight. He carefully got up and guided Chase to lay down. He only fussed for a moment until Wilson draped a blanket over him, and he settled.

They all had work the next morning and when they all got up, he had no idea if Chase would want to talk about what happened. He probably wouldn’t; Chase was only slightly less emotionally repressed than House was when he was big, but if by some chance he did, Wilson would be there to listen. “Goodnight, Robbie.”

“Mm… G’night, mummy.” Chase mumbled, and with that, he was dead to the world.

Wilson gaped. He was frozen solid, afraid that moving would somehow disturb the moment or make Chase realize what he just said and freak out. Did he really just..?

“Ouch. Well, I guess we know who the favourite is.�� House whispered, with a stupid amused smirk on his face. “Mummy Wilson, huh? It’s got a nice ring to it I guess.”

“Did he mean to—? When he wakes up tomorrow he’s…” Wilson trailed off. He was caught between being overjoyed that Chase had put so much trust in him as a caregiver to give him such a deeply important name, and bemoaning that it had to be Mummy of all things. Sweet, innocent Chase had just sentenced him to a lifetime of “Mummy-Wilson” jokes, and somehow his chest was still full of butterflies.

“He’s gonna die of embarrassment? Oh yeah.” House snickered, then yawned, limping off to his room. “I’m going to bed. Goodnight, Mummy.”

“You’re an ass.”

[fyrewalks]

a (hopefully) comprehensive look at bob and jewishness:

bob grew up in a reform jewish household. between his dad not being jewish and all the upheaval they faced being a military family, bob knows he didn't have the most traditional upbringing. still, both parents made judaism a priority so he doesn't really feel like he missed out on much.

at this point in bob's life, he tends to prioritize cultural/personal celebrations and reflections of his faith. he still goes to shabbat services often, but at the same time, is fine with missing out on synagogue.

a good estimate is that bob goes two to three times a month when he's stateside. generally, he prefers early saturday morning services because he likes friday night being for friends, family, and food. he also tends to skip shabbat service if he's gone earlier in the week for a holiday.

also, sometimes he'll make the joke that shabbat is a time for 'mental rest' and that he's completely justified in playing video games/goofing off. otherwise, he doesn't follow shabbat restrictions.

whenever he moves, he finds local kosher supermarkets, delis, cafes etc first. bob, at his core, is a foodie.

(regardless of if i have him based at top gun or lemoore, he meets megan miller during one of his supermarket hunts. megan is a local navy housewife and invites him to attend shabbat with her family; they become decently close friends and bob occasionally babysits for them. fc: jenny slate)

bob follows 'lazy kosher' meaning he mostly follows the rules in terms of what meats/proteins to eat. he does make exceptions for shrimp and the dairy rule, nor does he keep separate items in his kitchen. most of what he buys has a kosher symbol on it and whenever he's unsure at a restaurant, he just sticks to veggie options.

bob has a floral mezuzah that was gifted to him by his sister, gracie, when he started flight school.

bob doesn't fast on the anniversary of his sister's, stevie's, death. he finds it too hard. he does light a candle for her, though, and donates to the children's hospital she was treated at every year.

the only shiva bob has done was for stevie. he absolutely hated it, but that is mostly due to him being an angry ten year old struggling in the wake of such a devastating loss. bob hasn't visited stevie's grave in a while, but he has been collecting rocks for it.

while it's a bit 'untraditional', bob has a bumble bee tattoo with stevie's name above his left elbow. he won't admit that he was drunk when he got and is generally conflicted on if he'd get another tattoo. he knows that if he did, he'd get one in hebrew.

bob loved learning hebrew and can/does still speak it. he understands yiddish well, but can't carry out full conversations. he uses yiddish the way most people do, saying something looks schmutz or calling a little kid bubbeleh etc.

bob minored in jewish studies in college. it was a way to keep up with hebrew, keep him busy after he stopped drinking, and helped him reconnect with his faith.

bob didn't attend synagogue or go to hillel while his drinking was at it's worst the first two years or so of college. this was less a rejection of his faith and more him knowing, on some level, that if he'd gone to temple, that his drinking and the fight with his parents that precipitated it, would've been acknowledged and he wasn't ready to confront either. getting back into regular temple attendance and involved with hillel after he made the decision to stop drinking is one of the biggest things that helped him keep sober. (he does now drink wine with shabbat and other dinners, but never in social settings like a bar or big group parties.)

unsurprisingly, for bob's mitzvah project, her organized a few bake sales and donated the profits to a local food bank. (if you can't tell, food is a really big thing for him.)

bob donates to charities for most holidays, regardless of if he's celebrating it himself or attending synagogue. he has a handful of foodbanks and family services nonprofits that he cycles through. the idea of charity and giving back is something his mom really pushed as he grew up, especially after they benefited from help in the wake of his mom's depression following stevie's death, and bob's grateful for it now because tikkun olam is a big guiding force for him. this is also why if he runs marathons, he'll do it for a charity. (he will admit he probably doesn't physically volunteer enough outside the occasional foodbank during thanksgiving and purim)

rosh hashana - sometimes he'll attend service, but he always does a nice dinner for it when stateside. he likes experimenting with different apple and honey themed desserts.

yom kippur - bob absolutely prioritizes going to temple for this holiday. he'll go both on yom kippur eve (for kol nidre) and during the day. generally, he will not fast if it falls during the week. instead, he'll give up coffee and keep his food light/bland. this year since it fell on fri/sat, he did fast. he'll either attend a big break the fast get together with friends/family, or go out somewhere nice, regardless of he's fasted or not. he also lights a candle for stevie during this time too.

sukkot - it might be the festival of booths, but he is not making a sukkah himself. his mom never did, so it's not something he grew up helping with. he may go to one at temple or family/friends, and generally just celebrates the first day.

simchat torah - honestly, bob tends to be holiday'd out at this point. he generally skips out now as an adult, but his mom did place some importance on this celebration when he and the girls were younger since reading the torah is a accomplishment no matter how often you've gone through it.

hanukkah - bob goes to synagogue at least once but often more if he's visiting his family. (his mom is the treasure for her synagogue's board, so bob's accepted that he goes with her as often as she does whenever he's visiting florida, regardless of holiday.) his parents focused on giving out small, meaningful/useful gifts and experiences (think tickets to the zoo etc) and that's something bob carries on himself. this is one of his favorite holidays to cook for.

(since bob's dad isn't jewish, he did grow up celebrating christmas and easter. bob definitely has a preference for hanukkah, but he does associate christmas with more fun, frivolous and unnecessary gifts. his parents also only decorated for both at the same time if they overlapped, otherwise there were often times when they only had a tree up for like a week.)

tu bishvat - again, this is a holiday that bob doesn't do much for now as an adult. his family has planted trees for stevie in the past, though. if he does anything for it now, it's likely just to make bread or almond cake for friends/family or any bake sales.

purim - like passover, this is a a holiday that bob is certain to go to temple for. it's also a favorite of his! (tho sometimes he's indecisive and says it's tied with hanukkah.) he loves that it's fun and joyous, and it was likely one of the first things that got him laughing after stevie passed in february. he loves making gift baskets of food and goes all out (fancy jams, candied nuts, etc). please don't make him dress in costume, though, he has no interest in that part. he will also volunteer at a food drive/backe sale during this time too.

passover - bob only does seder for the first night, but will sometimes go to a community seder later on. he also really enjoys cooking for this, but isn't as creative since he mostly just sticks to family recipes - he does now add an orange to his plate. growing up his mom would put chocolate on their matzo, and it's something he still craves outside of passover. he's hit or miss on the no leavened/fermented bread thing outside of a seder meal. also, the maggid/four questions used to make him so nervous as a kid.

shavuot - bob doesn't do much beyond buying or sending fresh flowers to his mom.

[sibylsleaves]

with a bird at your door

3k | rated G | read on ao3

He’d rather spill the whole, pathetic truth than have Eddie think for one second that Buck doesn’t want him around.

“Buck, seriously,” Eddie says. “I know I’m being needy, okay? I know. And you don’t have to feel bad for me, you can tell me if it’s too much.”

“No, come on, it’s not too much, Eddie, it’s—it’s not enough.”

or, Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him.

Buck would never, ever say this out loud, but the whole thing is kind of Christopher’s fault.

Apparently, eleven is the age when kids start wanting more independence and start finding their loving, devoted fathers to be “overbearing.” After a disastrous week where Chris went as far as to lie to Eddie about skipping science club to hang out with his friends instead, the two of them sit down and talk it out and they tentatively arrive at a solution. Eddie will try to give Christopher more space and more independence. And Chris promises to never lie to Eddie again.

Buck’s proud of both of them, even if it breaks his heart a little that Chris is growing out of wanting to go to the zoo every other weekend, and would rather spend Friday nights at the movies with his friends than playing video games on the couch with Buck and Eddie.

Chris is growing up and there’s really nothing for Buck and Eddie to do but get used to it.

There is, of course, another problem. With Chris spending more time out of the house, it leaves Eddie with a lot more free time. Free time that he invariable spends with Buck.

This, by itself, wouldn’t usually be a problem. Buck loves hanging out with Eddie. It’s one of his favorite ways to spend his time off, right after hanging out with Chris and Eddie. At any other time, Buck wouldn’t be bothered by Eddie dropping by unannounced or asking Buck to come over practically every night when they’re not on shift. In fact, normally, he’d be ecstatic.

It’s just that…right before the big blow up between Chris and Eddie, Buck realized something. In the midst of all his soul-searching and questioning The Point of It All, Buck came to the conclusion that he’s deeply, ridiculously, undeniably in love with his best friend. He’s been trying to hard to figure out what he wants, only to realize it’s been staring him in the face this whole time.

That realization would be a lot to deal with in any other circumstance. Right now, when Buck is spending practically every waking moment with Eddie, it’s completely overwhelming.

It’s just—he can’t get a break from it. When he’s at work, Eddie’s there, all focused and competent and catching Buck’s eye on particularly ridiculous calls with that knowing, twinkly look that makes Buck want to shove him up against the fire truck and kiss him. When they’re at home, and Eddie’s all loose and relaxed and sometimes silly the way he only gets with Chris and Buck, grinning over at Buck with that smile that makes Buck want to press him down onto the couch and kiss him.

Once, when Buck made the mistake of telling Eddie he had to babysit Jee-Yun and Eddie invited himself along, Buck almost did kiss him, right there in the middle of the tot playground at Roxbury Park. He stopped himself before he could really embarrass himself, and Eddie was so focused on Jee-Yun he didn’t seem to notice.

But the more time they spend together, the more sure Buck gets that he’s going to slip up and Eddie’s going to figure it all out. And then what?

Eddie would be kind about it. Of course he would. He’d let Buck down easy, tell him what a great friend he is, and then he’d very gently break Buck’s heart. And they’ll still be friends, they’ll still be Buck and Eddie, but it won’t be the same.

Eddie doesn’t need that right now. He’s already negotiating a change in his relationship with his son—he doesn’t need to deal with a change in his relationship with Buck on top of that.

Buck just—he needs a break. From Eddie. Just a short one, to get his feelings under control to keep them from spilling out of him.

Only, every time he tries to get out of another evening of pining away for a man sitting two feet away, Eddie hits him with the sad puppy eyes that Buck can’t ever, ever say no to. And Buck inevitably spends another evening basking in Eddie’s attention and trying desperately not to show said basking.

Eddie needs you right now, he tells himself. Just suck it up and be there for him.

(keep reading on ao3)

[wwinterwitch]

THAT NIGHT — JOEL MILLER X BABYSITTER!FEM!READER

rating: explicit, 18+ only summary: you've been babysitting sarah for a while, thinking there's just no way joel could ever reciprocate your feelings pairing: joel miller x babysitter!fem!reader word count: 5k warnings: no spoilers (doesn't follow the plot of the show at all), age-gap (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 40s), babysitter!reader, mutual pining, SMUT with a sprinkle of fluff, porn with plot, making out, softdom!joel, kinda shy!reader at times, pet names, a little praise, dirty talk, oral (f!receiving), vaginal fingering, possessive!joel, riding, p in v sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!) but w/ birth control

main masterlist | read on ao3 | pedro's characters masterlist

Sarah never went to sleep until her dad came back home. She'll stay cuddled up against you while watching whatever you were watching on TV. Since Mr. Miller told you he didn't mind about his daughter staying up and waiting for him, you allowed Sarah to join you every night you were babysitting her until he was home.

Many would argue Sarah doesn’t really need a babysitter, as she’s quite an independent child that knows how to take care of herself just fine. Still, you’ve been taking care of her for a few years now and she loves to have you around, which is why she enjoys your company.

You’re always invited to her soccer matches and other school events, as well as every birthday party. Every time something remotely interesting or special happens in Sarah’s life, you’ll be a part of it.

But that closeness you have with Sarah was never really developed with her dad. Sure, he keeps you around to take care of her, but other than that your relationship with him is strictly professional. That little detail is particularly sad if you consider the massive crush you have on him.

He’s probably never considered you in that way, because why would he bother with someone much younger anyway? It’s not like Mr. Miller has ever given you any indication that he’ll ever reciprocate your feelings. In fact, it’s almost as if he’s terrified of you sometimes. Like he actively avoids getting even just a little too close to you. Perhaps he's aware of your little fantasies and he prefers to stay away as far as he can so he doesn't encourage you.

If that's the case, at least you're thankful he doesn't say anything out loud to embarrass you.

However, that night seems to be different. As soon as Sarah hears the front door opening and the sound of footsteps, she stands up from the couch and waits for her dad to appear in the living room, immediately walking towards him for a hug. You sit there, watching as Mr. Miller lifted up his daughter from the ground and spinned her around, which inevitably made the girl squeal and giggle until she’s begging to be put down again.

The entire scene made you feel very out of place.

That's not their fault by any means. It's you who likes to fantasize about things that will never happen. It's you who likes to imagine you're not just Sarah's babysitter. They can't help that a hug between them sends you back to reality and reminds you of your place.

You’re so lost in your thoughts that you barely notice when Mr. Miller is putting his daughter back on the ground so she can walk over you for a goodnight kiss. After that, she's leaving to her room with her dad following her. It took him only a few minutes to come back to the living room where you were still sitting, pretending to look at the TV the second he’s standing right next to the couch while he took out his wallet.

"Thanks again," he says, handing you the usual amount he pays you for a regular shift. He'll occasionally add more if he's working late and needs someone to be there for a few extra hours.

"No problem," you reply as you accept the money.

"Is it okay if you come back Friday night? I have, uh, a few things to do."

Things. You try to act as if that didn't mean anything to you. Why would you care if he has something to do on Friday night? How great it is that Mr. Miller has stuff to do on Friday night! It doesn't matter that he's being so vague about it. Not at all.

"I can pay you a little extra for the short-notice," you hear him say. Maybe he thinks that is the reason why you're taking so long to answer.

"I, uh...no, it's fine. I can be here Friday night."

While you take care of your things.

Right after that last thought brought up entirely by jealousy, you remember what you were talking a few days ago with Sarah while she was painting your nails. "So does that mean...you won't go to Sarah's match?"

His face fell almost immediately. "It's this Friday?" he asks. "Shit."

"I can always help her get ready and take her if you're too busy."

"Thank you, but I promised her I'll be there so I have to go. I can always cancel my other plans."

You shouldn't feel this happy when Mr. Miller is telling you he won't be doing any "things" this Friday, but you can't ignore that warm sensation that flows through your body. And the fact that he immediately decides to cancel them like they were nothing? You couldn't be happier.

After trying to ignore it, you reluctantly accepted the feeling and allowed it to secretly consume you. Because as embarrassing and sad as it is to admit, you have a crush on the dad of the girl you babysit, and you might've just stopped him from going on a date this week. How could you not be happy?

Mr. Miller's face tells a different story, though. He looks like he feels the complete opposite, which inevitably makes you feel a little guilty for mentally celebrating in front of him. "I'm sorry," was all you could say, not knowing what else to add to the conversation.

"It's alright. I wasn't looking forward to that anyway," Joel quickly reassures you, muttering the last part. It was like he wanted to joke about it, but the fact that he was muttering gave you the impression that maybe he didn't necessarily mean for you to hear that.

"Work stuff?" you asked not too long after.

Joel thinks about his answer for a few seconds. "Kinda," he replied. "It's stupid, really. A co-worker asked me out today."

"Oh..."

He stared at you for a bit before you watched a smile form on his lips. "Old people go out on dates too, you know?"

"I know," you giggle, a bit embarrassed. "It's just...I don't know. I don't think I've ever heard about you going on dates before."

"I don't have many," he explained, which somehow made things worse because how. "I don't really like dates either so I'm still trying to figure out why I accepted in the first place...I guess it just gets hard sometimes."

You looked up at him sympathetically. Mr. Miller rarely opens up to you, so this new-found sincerity is making it impossible for you to go home now. He's not really the type to share much about himself. Perhaps he likes to talk for hours with his brother and daughter, but not with others. The rest know only what Joel thinks they need to know about him and that's enough.

So for him to share even just a bit of information regarding this, it means he's willing to share it with you. And you must treasure little moments like this because at any time...

"I'm sorry," his voice snaps you out of your thoughts.

You quickly notice he's embarrassed so you shake your head, afraid that's all the sharing he'll do. "It's okay. I mean...you can talk to me if you need to."

"Thank you, but I really shouldn't be talking to you about this kind of stuff."

You didn't know what to say at first. It was sad to hear he really shouldn't talk to you. As if you're nothing but a little girl that couldn't possibly understand what grown ups go through. It's always annoying when someone older treats you like you're a little kid but it's especially terrible when this comes from, no exaggeration, the man of your dreams.

You're the babysitter, not a friend he can rely on when he needs it. That's all you've been and all you will be until Sarah doesn't need a babysitter anymore. Then, you might see them from time to time if Sarah invites you.

"Okay..." was all your hurt, pathetic little head could come up with.

He sensed that he messed up right after your reply, sighing as he looked up at the roof of the living room as if the right words to say were written right on top of him. Sadly for him, nothing was waiting up there to save him.

"It gets hard being a single parent sometimes," he finally confesses.

Trying to be open about it seemed like the only way he could make this situation better. And the truth is, he trusts you. A trust that can be so deep and blind at times, it terrifies him just to think about it.

He could talk to you about his inner struggles for hours if he could– hell, he longs for it. He wishes he could share every little aspect of his life with you, and for you to be his support. That strange need of even just the smallest gesture of vulnerability, something he didn't expect to feel for another woman after the disaster that was his marriage.

He wants to be vulnerable. There's nothing he needs more than to feel absolutely defenseless when it comes to you, because he knows you'll take good care of him. He trusts you'll protect him.

But he's twice your age. You should be nothing but the young woman who takes care of Sarah, but no matter how hard he tries to feel all of that with the other women he’s dated in the past, he can’t seem to stop thinking about you.

Joel Miller has fallen for the fucking babysitter and he can't do shit about it because it'll be extremely weird and inappropriate if he does. He'll never ever do or say something to make you uncomfortable, so he chooses to ignore his feelings entirely. He'll hopefully get over it soon enough.

Still, it's hard to remember to keep his distance when you're looking at him with those eyes and he's already allowing himself to be completely at your mercy, intoxicated by the feeling.

"I never expected it to be easy," you offer with a shy smile. "And if it helps, I think you're a great parent, Mr. Miller."

He chuckles after your comment, making your heart skip a bit. That's when he finally decided to sit down on the couch next to you.

"Thank you, sweetheart. It does mean a lot- not just your words, but everything you do to help out with Sarah," he added. Of course the sentence could've ended there but he couldn't hold back this time. "You being here really makes everything easier."

You were speechless. It was like your brain short-circuits right after those words, unable to even react to them. You notice he's staring at you, almost analyzing your reaction to him, and you knew you had to say something.

"I'm glad I can help. You have to give Sarah some credit, though. She makes my job a lot easier."

"She loves you. You should see how excited she gets when I tell her you're coming over," he replies with a smile.

"That's so sweet. I adore her, she's the most adorable child I've babysat."

His smile turns into a smirk right after that. "I hope you don't say that to every parent."

Once again, you let out a quick laugh. "No, I really mean it!"

"Do me a favor and don't let her know she's your favorite. It'll get to her head pretty quickly and we'll never hear the end of it," Mr. Miller added jokingly.

"That's exactly why I haven't told her," you joke back, feeling the ever-so-familiar butterflies in your stomach when you hear his chuckle.

There was a brief silence between the two of you. Mr. Miller was looking at you with the hint of a smile adorning his lips as you sat there, trying so hard not to blush because he just continued to look your way.

It was as if all the self control he built up came crushing to the ground in less than a second that night.

"You know, I can't blame her for what she thinks about you."

Once again, speechless. "R-really?"

He nodded. You noticed he got just a tiny bit closer to you, leaning back on the couch. To let him know you're more than okay with that, you leaned closer as well. No way you'll risk him regretting his movements now.

"Of course, I mean...what's there not to like?" he insisted, one of his hands barely brushing against your thigh. "Is this okay?" he immediately asks before going further, not wanting to be inappropriate.

"Yeah, i-it's okay..." you were able to say, not fully believing this is actually happening. Since when did your fake scenarios become this realistic? Is this another one of your dreams, perhaps?

The second his hand is completely resting on your thigh, you realize. This is real. Your breath practically catches in your throat when his hand moves further up. Holy shit, this is real.

"Can I confess one last thing?" he asks. You're unable to speak, so just stare at him as you wait for him to continue. "I want to touch you underneath your skirt so bad."

"Y-you...you can do whatever you want."

He smirks once again, eyeing you up and down. "Is that so? I can just do whatever I can think of to your body and you won't complain about it?"

You keep looking back at him, your heart beating faster than ever, quickly nodding after his question. It was pathetic the way your face was burning and your panties were soaked just by this little exchange. "I really want you to touch me."

"Let's see if you’re telling the truth," he says in a soft voice. Your eyes close and a sigh escapes your lips when you feel his hand moving upwards, his fingers delicately tracing your wet underwear up and down a couple of times. Just when you were going to tell him that feels good, he's the one who speaks. "So you weren't lying, sweetheart. That pussy's already so wet for me and I haven't even started."

"O-Only you can make me this wet, Mr. Miller."

"Mr. Miller," he mocks you, leaning even closer until he's inches away from your face. "That's cute. You're gonna keep calling me that when I put these fingers inside you?"

"If you want me to..."

He smiles. A genuine smile. You're so cute, he can't handle it. "You can call me Joel, darling."

With no time to answer, you're surprised by Joel's lips crashing against yours. It was evident both of you were desperately waiting for that to happen for so long. It was clear in the way you grabbed the back of his neck with one of your hands. It was also evident in the fact that his hand is rapidly sneaking inside your panties.

You moan as soon as you feel his fingers circling your clit. Joel took that in his advantage, his tongue quickly reaching yours and the kiss inevitably deepens. He continues to hungrily devour your mouth while he plays with your clit.

The two of you continue to make out for a bit until Joel is pulling back just enough to speak. "Take these off and sit back down for me, would you?"

Of course you're not going to refuse.

You still can't fully believe this is happening as you stand up to remove your panties. Joel is watching you intently and you've never felt more self-conscious in your entire life, intimidated by the way his eyes travel up and down your body in the best of ways. It drives you crazy just thinking about what's going on inside his head at that very moment.

He moves from the couch to the floor when you're once again seated, kneeling right in front of you. His eyes never leave yours as he carefully lifts your skirt just enough so you could be exposed to him, which inevitably made you that much flustered.

"No need to be shy," he says in a soothing voice, gently spreading your legs since you didn't do it for yourself. "You're gorgeous, darling. Exactly how I imagined you’ll be."

You couldn't possibly speak right now. Not if he's kissing your inner thigh while he's still looking at you, moving further up with each contact of his lips with your skin. When Joel's tongue is finally in contact with your pussy, you let out yet again another moan, making him pull away almost instantly.

"You gotta be quiet, baby," he quickly warns you. "We're not alone, remember?"

You're so lost in the feeling of his tongue against you that you don't reply. He didn't seem to expect an answer either, returning to what he was previously doing. To avoid making any sound, you had to bite your lip, one of your hands holding onto one of the cushions of the sofa almost involuntarily as he continued moving his tongue, exploring and tasting you.

He starts by licking one single strap with his tongue from your entrance to your clit before he stays there, gently sucking on it at first before he sucks just a little harder. Your head rests back on the couch, looking up at the sky as you try so hard not to moan his name out loud because how the fuck does this feel so good?

However, your head snaps back so you could look at him when he stops. "You have to keep looking at me, okay baby? If you don't, I'll stop. Got it?"

"Y-yes."

"Good girl," he praises, right before his mouth is on you again.

He sucks on your clit for a few more seconds before he's moving away just enough for his fingers to spread your lips completely, giving him a better access so he could lick up and down however he pleased. His tongue continues to expertly move up and down before he's focusing on your clit again, repeating that cycle over and over.

You're already a mess thanks to him. You were a mess even before he started eating you out, so you're absolutely destroyed at this point. You'd either bite your lip to avoid making a sound or open your mouth making sure no sounds would come out. One of your hands was on his hair, fingers tangled in it, while the other is still gripping the cushion tighter and tighter as seconds pass.

It's practically embarrassing just how desperate you are, your hips buckling upwards and your breathing becoming heavier. But how could you not be when he's kneeled in front of you with his mouth devouring your cunt, his eyes fixated on you and the room so silent you can perfectly hear the sounds his tongue makes when he’s eating you out?

He's eager to do a good job, examining your face to tell what moves you enjoy the most so he could repeat them. He licks and sucks until he gets the desired reaction, staying there long enough until he's satisfied with his work, continuing to move his tongue all over your cunt until he's discovering a new thing you particularly enjoy.

Holding back your moans is no easy job, but you seem to be partially succeeding so far. The hardest part of it all has to be the fact that you have to look at him at all times, trying very hard not to close your eyes or lean back on the couch. Because if you ever do and he stops, you're 99% sure you'll start crying.

Things only get much worse for you when Joel's mouth is entirely focused on your clit, giving enough space for his fingers to join in on the absolute attack you're suffering right now. You were about to break the silence rule when you feel two of his fingers entering you, curling inside of you and staying there for a second before he takes them out halfway, only to stick them back in.

At first he was gentle with his fingers, taking his time whenever they would go in and out of you, testing your reaction first before he gradually speeds up. The sounds alone would've been enough to make you cum right there and then. It was pathetic exactly just how wet you were for him at that point.

With his tongue taking care of your clit and his fingers penetrating you, you knew you were soon going to have enough of it. Your body was quickly hinting you were close as your hips buckled up more desperately and you're barely able to hold back your moans in between your heavy breathing.

You know he can feel it too thanks to your pussy clenching around his fingers, but you still wanted to voice what was going on internally. "Fuck, Joel..." you're able to say, making sure is not so loud.

He hums in response after hearing you, pulling back enough just to say “Keep saying my name like that,” right before diving in again.

And so you did. You chant his name as quietly as you can, which seems to encourage him as he starts fingering you at a faster pace. "I think...I-I think I'm gonna-"

At that very moment, your body is betraying you because your orgasm came like an unexpected wave of pleasure that took over your entire being, making it impossible for you to focus on anything else. You lean slightly forward, your body tensing and your legs slightly shaking as you come undone with his mouth sucking hard on your clit- the hardest yet.

Your fingers on his hair are tugging on it and the other is holding onto the cushion for dear life. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you're thankful he understands you're in no state of continuing to look at him anymore, allowing you to do whatever it was that your body needed to try to get it together again. He gives you time to calm down, cleaning off your mess as you try to catch your breath.

"You were so good for me, sweetheart," he praises you as soon as he's moving away from you. The sight of his lips, beard and chin all covered in your juices was something you wish you could stare at for the rest of your life. "And you taste so fucking good."

Joel is still kneeled on the floor in between your legs when he's leaning in for a kiss again. You completely give in as you hold onto his flannel shirt, enjoying the way his big hands move up and down your legs.

Sadly, you couldn't make out with him as much as you'd have wanted because he's pulling away just enough to say, "'been thinking about that pussy for a while now, you know?" The comment makes you moan as you continue to hold onto his flannel. "Now that it's finally all mine, I won't be sharing with anyone else. Ever."

"I don't want anyone else," you mutter, closing your eyes when you feel his mouth on your jaw before it moves down to your neck. "Just you."

"Say it," he instructs in between kisses. "Say who you belong to."

"I belong to you, Joel. Only you. Fuck- my pussy's all yours."

Joel practically growls at your words, biting down on the skin on your neck as you pull him impossibly close to you. "That's my girl."

The fact that he just called you "his girl" almost makes you whimper. "Please...can you please fuck me? I need it so bad."

"You want me inside you, baby? Was that all you could think about when you would stare at me with those pretty eyes every time you greeted me when I came back from work?"

"Yes, yes…all the time..."

He's finally moving back from your neck and you're pretty sure you'll find several marks on your skin when you look in a mirror later. You wanted to lean closer to kiss him but he stopped you, holding your chin with his fingers as his thumb is gently brushing your lower lip.

"Does the thought of me fucking you ever pops in your head whenever you're playing with yourself?"

"It's the only thing I can think of...n-nothing else makes me cum as hard," you confess. "I think about you every time."

Joel seems more than satisfied with your answer, not letting go of your face yet. He doesn't even let you go after your hands are helping to unbuckle his belt and unbutton his jeans, quickly pulling the zip of them down before the item of clothing is falling to the floor.

You waste no time because you've been dreaming about this for so long, impatiently palming him over his boxers. It looks like he's also having a hard time staying quiet, which only encourages you to continue to touch him for a few seconds before you're also getting rid of his underwear.

Your mouth practically waters at the sight in front of you. Of course he’ll be big and just perfect.

He finally stood up from the floor so he could join you on the couch again, his jeans and boxers long forgotten on the floor as he took a seat.

A smirk appears on his face when he notices you don't move by yourself, waiting for him to grab your waist so he's the one moving you to be on top of him. Your hands quickly rest on his shoulders as you straddle him, biting your lip in anticipation because you know you'll want to scream out in pleasure the second he's inside you.

He's still holding you with one of his hands, the grip on you tightening just enough when the other is being used to align his cock with your entrance. As soon as you're feeling his tip, you close your eyes and let out all the air your lungs were holding until that moment. "You have to look at me, remember?" he says hurriedly, yet softly.

"I'm sorry..." you mutter. "I'm sorry, I just- can't..."

"I know, baby. I know," he cuts you off in a soothing voice. "But you have to do as I say, okay?"

You nod frantically, wishing that's enough to get him to continue. Much to your luck, he does. His tip is already inside you and you continue to slowly sink further down, every inch that disappears inside you making it more and more difficult for both of you to stay quiet and in control.

The hand that was previously helping him penetrate you goes up to your hair, fingers tangling in it to keep your head as still as possible as a silent reminder that you must look at him.

"Thaaat's it, sweetheart," he breathed out. "You're doing so good for me, just a few more inches– holy fuck, you're so tight."

You're barely able to hold back your moans. "Shit. I– please, I..."

His half-chuckle, half-grunt only helps to make you that much desperate. "I'm not even fully inside of you and you already can't speak?"

The fingers in your hair tighten their grip when Joel is finally ball's deep inside of you and he allows you to feel him. Every inch. It's like heaven.

You only start to move when his lips are once again attached to your neck and one of his hands is sneaking underneath your top. His moans are muffled against your skin and the sensation of it only encourages you to speed up what you at first intended to be slow movements, thinking it'd be fun to tease him a little. You're in no position to be teasing anyone right now.

The sudden change of speed makes him hold onto your hips as you ride him, his cock repeatedly hitting a sensitive spot inside you. It was impossible to hold back your moans at this point so you were forced to pull him away from your neck so you could kiss him instead. You whine, moan, whimper against his mouth and the speed is making your eyes burn with tears. His hands grip your sides so tight you're sure his fingertips would leave bruises.

The sound of the pathetic noises you're making are mixed with the sound of your skin hitting against his. That, combined with the wet sounds of his cock stretching you out so deliciously, makes you wish he could fuck you for the rest of your life.

At that speed, you knew he'll cum almost as fast as you.

You move back to get some air, forehead pressed to his. "'Pussy's so tight, don't think I'll ever get enough of it," he manages to say, which really doesn't help you at all. "You gotta stop though, before I cum."

"I want you to cum inside me," you argue. "It's fine, I'm on birth control. It's fine..."

He didn't say anything. You guess he can't really keep up a conversation given the circumstances. Not like you can either.

An orgasm is rapidly building up inside you, feeling your stomach getting tighter and your walls squeezing him much tighter than before. Before you can do much else, you're forced to move your hand up to your mouth to cover the scream that almost escapes your lips when you feel yourself coming undone all over him.

It only takes a few more strokes for Joel to cum too, still holding onto you for dear life as he fills you up, head resting on your chest as he tries to collect himself after you rode him, shooting his load just so hard inside of you.

He allows you to ride him, a lot slower this time, easing both of you after your intense orgasms. At one point he's kissing your forehead and softly caressing your hips after holding onto them so tightly.

"That was amazing," you confess after partially recovering from it all, but still trying to catch your breath. "I wasn't too loud, right?"

He calms you with another kiss on your forehead. "You were perfect, sweetheart. We might have to do this again sometime."

Your heart almost skips a beat at that proposition. He liked this enough that he’s suggesting to do this again? Now this is really going to go up to your head. You just rode Joel Miller and you did such a good job that he's already considering doing this again with you.

"Sure. Just let me know when you need me to babysit again," you reply jokingly. "Hopefully it's soon enough."

"Or...I can just give you a call and you come over? No need for babysitting," he further explains his point, which totally caught you by surprise. "If that's okay, of course."

You really didn’t want him to worry or overthink it too much, grabbing his face to give him a kiss that he immediately reciprocates. “That sounds great, Joel.”