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caffeinewitchcraft · 4 months ago

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AITA for telling my boyfriend’s coworkers that he’s lying about his body count?

I (35f) have been dating my boyfriend (32m) for four years. It’s honestly been the best relationship until last Friday when it all went down. I feel like I’m in the right, but now I’m wondering if I overstepped.

For context, my boyfriend has been a professional Slasher for about eight months now. He’s always really admired Cryptids, Monsters, and Nightmares so when his application was finally accepted, he was over the moon even if he was starting in a lower position than he initially applied for.

At his company, being a Slasher requires a lot of travel which we knew when he accepted the position. The end goal is for him to get a promotion to at least regional Nightmare (he wants Cryptid, but that position doesn’t have a lot of turnover) but to get that he needs to be in role for at least 12 months OR meet his goals for three months in a row. Once he promotes, we plan to relocate to his new region and “start talking about our future.”

(Side note: no this isn’t about him not popping the question yet. We are both in agreement that marriage comes after financial stability. I run a small business doing scare consults and, while it’s been growing, I wouldn’t call it stable yet. So neither of us are ready.)

I told him it’s completely normal for it to take a whole year before he’s ready to promote and he really should focus on adjusting to the company before thinking about next steps. I used to work for a competitor (I’ve been retired for five years now) and I know it can be hard to go from only taking the occasional human life to having to take over half a dozen a week. It’s not a light workload, no matter how easy it looks in the movies. One of my best friends Slashes part-time and she still only averages about five lives a week despite having done it for years. Especially these days, it can be really hard to meet quota. Humans are getting smarter, no matter what the Council wants us to think.

Anyway, boyfriend didn’t do as well as he thought he would in his first couple months. Totally understandable, of course, which I told him. I suggested he ask his boss if he could be put on a couple team assignments or even a duo until he got the hang of it. That was our first real fight. He thought I was doubting his ability to kill. He brought up how I told him it would take over a year to promote and how I said that this job wasn’t for everyone (His first assignment ended with a 0% kill rate, but that’s a different story). He said it felt like I didn’t believe in him and he said that if that was the case then maybe we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage so soon.

It got pretty messy after that. I felt like he was forgetting that I’d worked in the same field and, arguably, had a lot more experience (not to brag, but I averaged a 98% kill rate). Also, four years is NOT too soon to talk about marriage. He said I didn’t understand how he needed to focus on his career right now. I told him I thought he was taking Slasher too lightly just because it wasn’t Cryptid. He accused me of not respecting him and then things spiraled from there.

We both said a lot of things we didn’t mean and I’m embarrassed that it turned into a bit of a fang measuring contest. I ended up sleeping under the bed for a few nights until he coaxed me out to apologize.

It was a rough patch, but we talked it out. We agreed that, going forward, I wouldn’t offer advice unless he asked and he would try not to take so much of his frustration home with him. He took a weekend off and we went on a recreational haunting trip in the Montana woods.

Things did get better after that. I tried not to give him consults every time he came back from a work trip. He started bringing me souvenirs like roses and cursed puzzle boxes his work said he could have. It became easier just to hang out with each other and it felt like we were back to normal.

But then, four months ago, he came home super pissed because his boss put him on a PIP. (A performance improvement plan.) Apparently, boyfriend had not been doing better at work, he had just stopped telling me when he had a bad assignment. I saw the paperwork he got (he left it in the dungeon under the house, I didn’t go through his stuff) and he’s been missing quota by a LOT. As a junior Slasher, he was supposed to be executing at least 6 people a week, but he’d been lucky to be maiming half that.

Obviously, I had to talk to him about that. We rent our house and, even though I could have afforded the rent on my own, I didn’t want to jeopardize the investments I was making in my business (I was in the process of hiring an assistant to handle my scheduling). Plus, we agreed from day one that we would be 50/50 on rent and I would take care of the rest of the bills because I earned more. I felt that if his financial situation was in jeopardy, he needed to talk to me about it.

I tried to approach him a bit differently than last time. I asked him if there was anything I could do to help. I told him about my slasher friend and how maybe she could give him advice if he didn’t want any from me. But he said he needed to figure stuff out on his own and that if he couldn’t get himself off the PIP then he would go back to work for his dad’s janitorial company.

I let it go. I was worried but I didn’t want to fight again just after patching the holes from the last blow out. It really bugged me that he thought I didn’t believe in him so I committed to giving him the benefit of the doubt. I said okay and asked him if he needed me to meal prep for both of us that week. He offered me grocery money, but I said it was fine since I’d had to deal with a lot of humans breaking in lately and I still had some leftover in the dungeon.

Fast forward a month. Boyfriend got off the PIP super fast. He worked his way off of it over Spring Break and started taking on a lot of extra assignments. In just four weeks he went to Miami Beach twice, New York City twice, and to three separate summer camps. I missed him and it was hard not having him around but I remembered how he said he needed to focus on his career and I tried not to nag.

It was hard not to nag though. With him gone, all the housework fell on me. We rent a 19th century manor, and its upkeep really does need two people. Doing all the chores plus running my business started to really drain me. Even when he was home, he forgot to banish the ghosts (my chore is to kill all invading humans, and his chore is to banish their ghosts) and he never took out the trash. I think he cleaned blood off the dungeon walls once, but then I had to basically redo it because he missed a lot of spots.

But still, I didn’t say anything because he was doing really well at work and I didn’t want to ruin that for him. Even when Humans started breaking in every week, I didn’t complain even though it interrupted my work day.

Last month though, I did ask him if we could move somewhere that needed less maintenance. There were just way too many Humans breaking in and I didn’t have the time to deal with them anymore. Even if I don’t do all the theatrics I used to as a Cryptid, killing humans through fear still takes a lot of time. He asked me if I didn’t appreciate the free meat, and I said I would appreciate it more if I wasn’t the only butchering it.

He said he didn’t want to move because he was really close to getting promoted to regional Nightmare and he didn’t want to take time off work to move. I was so surprised that I couldn’t hide how surprised I was. He saw and got offended. He asked if I still didn’t believe in him. I said that I did, but it was a huge jump to go from an 8% kill rate to getting promoted.

He got even more mad at me for bringing up his stats and he said that he had nearly 80% kill rate since being put on the PIP. I asked how many humans a week he was slashing and he told me I was being too nosy and that was proof that I didn’t believe in him.

I asked him if we could at least hire a ghoul then to keep the humans out of my office and he said he didn’t want to waste the money that we should be saving for our new house. I asked him what he wanted me to do then? I had to take phone calls for my consulting business and it was really hard to stalk humans all around the house while trying to sound like a professional to my clients.

He asked me to be patient for one more month. He said if he met quota for one more month, his boss said he’d get promoted. So I said fine and let it go.

Fast forward to now, almost a full month later.

Last Friday, I attended the Eldritch Conference. For those not in the scare field, the Eldritch Conference is the most prestigious event in our industry. It’s invitation only and is a chance to network with all the big players in the field. Mothman, the Jersey Devil, Bloody Mary and Bigfoot all spoke this year and both my former company, Grudge Industries, and my boyfriend’s current company, Forgotten Summer Solutions, were invited.

I was surprised to get an invite as a solo contributor to the field. However, my consulting firm has really been doing well and I did land a seasonal contract with the Yeti Co-op which I guess is how they heard about me. Plus, I’ve been a speaker before so I think the organizers knew I would behave myself.

I was planning on telling my boyfriend that I was going, but he was out of town on a co-ed sleepover assignment. He usually doesn’t have his phone on during his assignments, so I didn’t bother calling him. I just figured it’d be nice if we ran into each other at the conference if he made it back in time.

Which brings me to what actually happened (apologies for the long post).

So everything went great for my part of the day. I got to network with a lot of individual businesses and even got to reconnect with Blood Mary who I knew back in my Cryptid days. I told her I was dating a Slasher from Forgotten Summer Solutions and invited her to come with me to check out their booth. I thought it would be fun to grab dinner with her after since I assumed if my boyfriend was there, he’d be going out with coworkers which he often does. Plus, I admit, I was showing off a little. I don’t often get the chance to brag about my Cryptid days.

She agreed and we went over to see if my boyfriend was there.

I introduced myself to the people manning the booth. My boyfriend wasn’t there, but a few Slashers recognized my name and greeted me. They were definitely in awe of Bloody Mary (she came in full uniform) and invited us to look at their displays. They had portfolios for each Slasher on the desk as a sort of preview of what their services looked like.

While Bloody Mary looked through the portfolios, I chatted with my boyfriend’s coworkers. They said they were thrilled to work with him and that, even though he had a really rough start, it was impressive how quickly he started meeting his goals. Something about how they talked about his work kind of didn’t make sense. They were talking like he was killing a dozen humans a week, but he’d told me that he was at 80% on his assignments which typically only offer about ten humans each.

I asked them about it and they said that he’d been Slashing during After Hours which is a new goal supplement program his company launched a few months ago. Basically, anyone can sign up for After Hours and the company counts human kills done in uniform as part of their quota. I asked them if this was available to them while they were on assignment and they said no, it had to be done when they had down time. I asked them how my boyfriend was part of that when he was traveling all the time and they looked confused. One of them said that my boyfriend is still getting one assignment per week and is then supplementing his kill rate with After Hours.

At that point, I was even more confused. It sounded like my boyfriend had been lying to me then, because he told me that he was getting at least two assignments a week. If he was only getting one, then where was he going when he said he was traveling?

Bloody Mary interrupted before I could say anything and asked how their Slashers did their kills. They said that every Slasher at their company is required to use a standard issue weapon (like a machete or axe) for their kills to count. They said their company doesn’t count accidents as part of their quota (like falling or heart attacks).

Bloody Mary pulled me aside and showed me the portfolio she was holding. She said that she was going to give me a chance to explain without them overhearing and showed me the book. She said that a bunch of kills in it looked Cryptid kills. And she said, specifically, it looked like the kills I made when I was a Cryptid. I took the book from her and flipped through it and she was right, they really did look like Cryptid kills. Worse, I recognized a few of the Humans from the past few weeks. They were actually my kills!

Kill stealing is a major taboo in our industry.

I told her I didn’t know anything about this. She looked really relieved at that and said that even though I wasn’t a Cryptid anymore, it would look really bad for me if I was caught helping a Slasher cheat at their job. It could affect my business which she’d only heard good things about.

I’m embarrassed to say that I tried to defend him. He’s new to our industry so I thought it might be a mistake. He might not be trying to cheat, this could be a misunderstanding.

She said she didn’t think so because a mistake would be one or two of my kills mixed in with his, not the entire book.

I counted up how many photos were in the book and, all told, of the 146 kills, at least 100 were mine. I couldn’t really say it was a mistake at that point and I was just staring at his portfolio like an idiot. Bloody Mary asked me what I was going to do because, mistake or not, this looked really bad and could damage my reputation if it got out.

At that moment, another man walked up to booth and asked us if there was a problem. I knew that if I said anything, I would be jeopardizing my boyfriend’s job, but if I didn’t say something, I was jeopardizing my business.

I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count. I said I didn’t think that they knew he was doing it, but over half of the kills in his portfolio weren’t his and I suggested they remove it from their display before another Cryptid came by and realized it.

The other man thanked me for bringing this to his attention and asked how we knew. Bloody Mary said that she knew another Cryptid’s kills and I had to tell them that I was that Cryptid, though I was retired now. He asked me if I knew my boyfriend was doing this, and I told him no.

I told him I really didn’t want to get my boyfriend in trouble and suggested that maybe he didn’t know those kills didn’t belong to him because they happened in our house. I was grasping at straws and Blood Mary even looked sad for me. His coworkers looked skeptical but tentatively agreed. The man – who turned out to my boyfriend’s boss – said that they would investigate this thoroughly and apologized personally for his employee’s misconduct.

I was spiraling at that point so I thanked him and said I wasn’t mad, I was just looking out for both of our reputations. He promised to keep it between us and I agreed.

Then I apologized to Bloody Mary because I didn’t feel like eating dinner anymore. She said she understood and wished me well.

I went home and did a quick perimeter search of the property. Sure enough, there were human summoning stones ALL OVER the yard. Which means my boyfriend was intentionally luring humans to our house to get me to kill them so he could take credit. It wasn’t a mistake at all.

My boyfriend came home later that night in his work clothes. As soon he got inside he started yelling. He said he was suspended without pay and that all his hard work was for nothing.

I said I knew he’d been stealing my kills and he almost ruined my reputation. He said they still counted as his kills because he did all the work of luring the humans to our house.

I told him that wasn’t how it worked and he knew it. He said it was the same as setting a trap and I was taking this too seriously. I told him that, as a Slasher, he has to use a weapon to get his kills, not me. He said I was basically the same thing since I had such a high kill rate. I asked him if he was calling me an object.

(My parents exploited me by selling me as a haunted doll through a lot of my childhood and he knows I’m sensitive to being called an object.)

He backpedaled at that point and asked if I didn’t want to buy a house together. He said he was doing it for us and I should’ve understood and not said anything. I told him that when I was a Cryptid I had my pride and would’ve never done this.

He said I needed to tell his boss that he was the one who made all those kills. I said it wasn’t me who recognized them as Cryptid kills and now his boss knew too. He accused me of thinking I’m better than him because I have telekinetic powers and can move through shadows and can possess people, while he’s basically a human himself. I told him of course not and that I worked hard for those powers unlike him.

He got really mad at that and actually charged at me with his machete raised. I don’t think he was going to actually hit me, but I reacted like he was. It was all instinct. I disarmed him and I swear I heard a crack when I grabbed his wrist. I shoved him into the wall.

He crumpled to the floor and started crying. He said sorry and sort of curled up around his wrist. He said he didn’t ever feel like he was enough for me and he didn’t even know why I was still with him. He called himself a bunch of names and said I would be better off without him.

I sort of awkwardly stood there for a minute. On one hand I wanted to assure him that he was enough and that I loved him, but, on the other, I wasn’t sure I could forgive him. He nearly ruined my reputation, and he embarrassed me in front of Bloody Mary. Plus, I still didn't know where he’d been going all those times he said he was on a business trip and apparently wasn’t.

So I ended up not saying anything. I went to our room and started packing a bag. He followed me. He was still crying as he begged me not to go. He said he would own up to his kill steals at work and he would make it right. He pleaded for me not to leave him and that he would give up slashing.

I told him I needed space to think. He tried to grab me, but I shadow walked out of the house. I heard him screaming from outside and I hurriedly drove away.

Now I’m at my friend’s house and I told her everything. She agreed I did the right thing walking away from him, but when I asked her what I should do she hesitated. She said that my boyfriend wasn’t right to kill steal but, as a fellow Slasher, she understood what he was going through. She said I wouldn’t understand the pressure to meet quota because I was always surpassing mine when I was in the field. She said that a Cryptid could never understand a Slasher.

She also said that nobody would have found out about his kills if I hadn’t brought them to his boss’ attention. She said the only time kills are on display like that is at the Eldritch Conference and by the next one, he’d have had kills of his own. She thinks that if I’d just confronted him at home, he wouldn’t be on suspension.

So now I’m worried that I overreacted when I told my boyfriend’s coworkers that he was lying about his body count.

AITA?

----

Thanks for reading! Several amazing supernatural citizens (aka my Patrons) gave great advice to our poor OP over on my Patreon! Please go check them out here (X)

(I will definitely be posting some of them here in the near future!)

My next supernatural AITA is already up to my patrons!

It's called "AITA for divorcing my vampire husband because he lied about his human job?"

Patrons get to see many of my stories a week ahead! If that interests you please check me out here (X)!

#my writing #aita reddit parody #third person #original fiction #supernatural #halloween #aita parody

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lnfours · 2 months ago

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you | l.n

summary: what’s more romantic: laying cuddled up next to the fireplace on christmas eve with the love of your life, or that special item in the little black box with a bow?

warnings: established relationship, mentions of sexual content, holiday vibes, and tooth rotting fluff.

message from jordan: hi everyone! here’s to the first christmas fic you’ll be receiving from me! don’t worry, focal point is still very much in production and will most likely have a chapter coming out later this week :) i hope you all enjoy!! sending you all my love, as always 🤍

masterlist | inbox

the orange and yellow flames kept the both of you warm as you laid with your head on his chest. his fingers absentmindedly drawing shapes into the soft skin of your bicep, your head resting on his chest as you found yourself listening to the sound of his beating heart.

the one that only beats for you.

your legs were intertwined with his, and you had found yourself tracing over the indents in his abdomen with your fingernails. silky soft and tanned skin littered with moles and freckles. the same ones you made sure you pressed kisses to every time you found yourself in their path. they littered his skin like stars in the night sky. and to you, they were just as beautiful. one of your favorite features of his.

his breath tickled your neck, smiling softly when he placed a kiss to the skin where your neck met your collarbone. you felt him pull you closer against him, leaving no gaps between you. not even enough space for air.

it was the little moments like these that you cherished the most, the ones you held close to your heart. the ones you’d think of whenever someone would mention how well the two of you mesh together, that you’re the definition of his soulmate. his version of a nice, warm soup you crave on a cold and windy winter day.

simply enough, you were each other’s soul healing medicine.

“missed you,” he mumbled against the crook of your neck, “sorry i couldn’t help you bring your stuff over.”

he had told you to bring more things from your apartment to his house. and when you protested, he argued that you already had a side of the vanity in the bathroom filled with your makeup, skincare and any other possible hygiene products you could think of. you had even taken over a side of his closet.

and maybe a drawer or two of his dresser that you hadn’t told him about. instead, while in search of a pair of socks, he had found a couple pairs of your pajamas in the drawer.

the simple fact that you had been leaving your things behind whenever you’d go back to your apartment for a couple days was like little reminders to him. reminders that you’d be back in a few days time, that it wasn’t a temporary situation to you. this was real. and you were all in, just like him.

“‘s okay, max was here to help,” you said, “sorry i took over one of your shelves. i wanted to bring some books,”

he shook his head, “don’t be sorry, i like your stuff being here. makes it feel more like home.”

you smiled, tilting your head to meet the pair of blueish-green eyes you had fallen head first in love with. the ones you had seen one night out in london, the ones that you had been mesmerized by ever since.

he tapped on your arm lightly, a silent signal that he was going to move. you untangled yourself from him with a soft frown, not really wanting to reposition yourself beings the previous state had been far more comfortable. you sat up as he did, watching as he kneeled towards the tree, picking up various packages and looking at them before putting them back down. it was like he was looking for one in particular.

“what’re you doing?”

“looking for something,” he said softly, ��i can’t remember where i put it- oh here it is.”

you furrowed your eyebrows when he turned around with a small little box in his hand. a black box with a white bow on the top, too neatly done to have been done by him. you squinted at him, taking it cautiously.

“it’s not christmas yet,” you questioned his actions.

“i know, but i’ve been trying to decide if i wanted to give it to you early,” he said, “but i think now is the perfect time. besides the fact that i’m impatient.”

you chuckled softly, undoing the bow on top and playfully tossing it his way. his reflexes allowed him to catch it, placing it down on the floor next to him. he took the time to take in your figure, how pretty you looked in the dim light of the christmas tree and city lights shining in through the windows. how his tshirt had ended up around your frame, hair slightly messy.

to him, you were the most perfect person in the world. the only person he envisioned a life with, who he wanted to come home to at the end of the day. the only one who understood him better than he knew himself. he thanked every god possible and counted every lucky star for the night in london that had changed his life.

“i swear, if something pops out at me, so help me god,”

he laughed, “nothings gonna pop out at you, baby. promise.”

you squinted, narrowing your eyes towards him as a sign that you didn’t necessarily believe him. you lifted the lid of the box with slight caution, and when it was clear that he was telling the truth about there being no surprises, you fully opened it. however, the gift inside the box raised more questions.

“a key?” you lifted your head, letting your eyes meet his as you held it up, “to what?”

“our home.”

you blinked at him, speechless for a moment as he smirked at you.

“wait, what-?”

“move in with me,” he said, “i’ve been thinking about it, for a while now actually, and you’re the person i want to have a life with. i want to come home and find you on the couch watching tv or dancing along to the music playing in the kitchen while you’re cooking dinner. youre the one i want to wake up next to every morning, the one i want to say goodnight to every night before i fall asleep. it’s you, not anyone else,”

you fought the tears welling up in your eyes from his sweet words as he continued, “and i love the fact that every single one of your things has a spot next to mine. i want this crazy little life that we have forever, so this is my way of asking if you’ll move in with me.”

you bit on your bottom lip as you smiled, “i mean, i don’t really go to my apartment anymore anyway, so-“

he didn’t let you finish before he was pulling on your arms to bring you closer to him, making you squeal as you landed on top of him on the floor. you giggled when he pressed his lips to yours, kissing him back. the kiss only breaking when your smiles got to be too wide.

“i love you,” he mumbled against your lips, “more than anything.”

you hummed, “i’ll always love you more, though.”

warmth spread for your chest at the idea of taking your relationship one step forward. you had known for a while that he was the one you wanted to do everything with, but knowing he was on the exact same page as you was a feeling like no other. a state of euphoria. one that made you feel giddy inside, like you were back in high school with a crush all over again. the same kind of exciting feeling that you prayed never died.

and as long as he was yours and you were his, that was never going to go away.

he flipped the two of you over so he was back to hovering over you on the floor, the same position the two of you had been in earlier in the night. you played with the hairs on the back of his neck absentmindedly as you spoke.

“even though it’s not a new home, does this count enough that we get to christen every surface of this apartment?”

he laughed softly, nose bumping against yours, fingers lightly tracing into the skin of your waist underneath your shirt, his lips brushing against yours sending shivers down your spine. the kind only he could cause.

“do we even have any spots left?”

“oh i’ve got a mental list, don’t worry.” you smiled as his head fell to your collarbone. the sound of his giggle echoing through the room, causing you to laugh too.

your eternal happy place.

“then, what’re we waiting for?”

“i like the way you think, pretty boy.”

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deadsetobsessions · 1 year ago

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Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.

Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.

Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.

Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.

And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).

Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.

(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)

The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.

Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.

And he kept coming back?

But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.

(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)

(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)

But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.

It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.

So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!

“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”

Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”

And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.

They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.

And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!

But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).

Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.

Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)

#bamf danny phantom #danny phantom #dc x dp #jason todd #Jason takes him to a library and they pick out books for each other #Danny asks him on a second date and they talk about the book over coffee #and then they watch the stars (Danny uses his ghost powers to clear a patch of sky)#but Danny just kind of watches Jason’s face and goes yeah this is just as good #Danny dngasf #Danny will throw hands with a clown #Danny thinks the Gotham Rogues are kinda cute #with their gimmicks #unimpressed bc they’re kind of obvious #and he’s seen worse and better #danny is Gotham’s Mom Friend

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cottonlemonade · 3 months ago

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Dating You For A Bet [Part 2]

word count: 1756 || avg. reading time: 8 mins.

pairing: University AU!Matsukawa x chubby!Reader

genre: angst

warnings: bullying

[part 1]

The following days were miserable. Between dodging Matsukawa lurking outside your dorm and having to see him in most of your seminars and lectures it was hard to pretend that you didn’t care, much to the delight of the fellow students who apparently had nothing better to do or collectively lost their WiFi and were starved for entertainment. They threw glances between the two of you as if following a tennis match, although you were stubbornly pretending to follow the lesson while Issei just listlessly stared at his closed book.

He had tried to talk to you after lectures, during lunch, or when he ran into you at the convenience store but to no avail. You remained strong, frequently reminding yourself that everything from your first kiss to the first time sleeping together was solely done to win a bet. A bet! To him, you were nothing more than some easily manipulated, naive girl from a country he probably didn’t even know how to spell. The three crumpled notes from that day were still at the bottom of your trash can, unread, and now buried under more paper scraps, gum wrappers, and empty juice boxes. Your roommate hadn’t noticed or questioned why you didn’t leave in the evenings anymore to go on dates. Chances were that she had read about the whole thing online.

You were tired of it all. The initial burst of energy you felt, fueled by nothing but spite, had finally ebbed away and at this point, Christmas was drawing nearer and nearer and you ran on fumes. Having tried to deep dive into homework and assignments had left you fatigued and vulnerable, so it came to no surprise that a month after the break up you couldn’t take it anymore. You had figured that the other students would eventually move on to the next shiny thing but not so. A small group of boys and girls stood in front of the library with coffee cups steaming in their hands. You braced yourself inwardly. You just wanted to quickly return a book and then you’d be on your way again. When you approached them they interrupted their conversation to very obviously look you up and down as if judging your post-break-up fashion choices.

“I just knew there had to be a reason for him dating her.”, one of them said, deliberately loud enough for you to hear.

“Oh my god, I know right? I can’t believe she fell for it. I mean, what would someone like him ever see in someone like her.”, another piped up.

“Honestly kudos to him, I dunno if I could have gotten it up with her in bed.” They laughed.

You stopped on your way up the stairs. Matsukawa stood in front of you just coming out of the building, a tattered, well-annotated book in hand and his bag half-hearted slung over his shoulder.

The group of friends gasped quietly and hushed each other, waiting.

“Y/n…”, Issei said softly, then snapped at the others, “Don’t you have somewhere to be?!”

They laughed again but hurried inside.

“Y/-“

He couldn’t even finish the word. You had already turned around and walked away. And he would have let you get the space you needed if he didn’t see you cry. Readjusting his bag he slowly made his way down the steps and followed you, a couple of meters behind.

Whenever you missed your family he had tried to bring a bit of home to you with a traditional dish he knew you loved - that he usually messed up - or by watching a Disney movie in your native language while snuggling up on his bed under a blanket. But what had helped you most of all when you were upset was always a simple hug. And he never let go first. He made sure that you knew he would hold you as long as you needed. When you first told him you loved him he was wracked with guilt. He had since come to realize how messed up the whole thing was and tried to get out of it. He lied when his friends asked him if he had completed the bet but his roommate had only patted him on the back and accused him of being modest. And he, Issei, had forced a smile and accepted the money feeling like the most disgusting person in the world. The money still sat untouched in his sock drawer. He didn’t want to use it. He felt ashamed of himself but whenever he spent time with you he was weirdly glad that he agreed to the bet. Otherwise, who knows if he would have walked up to you as he had. Privately, to make himself feel better, he thought, of course he would have.

He would have noticed eventually how amazing you were.

He would have eventually seen how much you two had in common, that in all actuality you were his dream girl.

He would have. Eventually. Wouldn’t he?

Probably not, he had to admit. Ever since puberty hit him like a truck he walked around with a newfound level of confidence. This must have been what it was like for Oikawa back then - girls doing a double take and smiling when they saw him, little admiring love notes tucked quickly into his workbook when he wasn’t looking. All the attention slowly rose to his head and he became arrogant, leading to agreeing to a bet he would have punched his friends for in high school.

Hands in his pockets and breath forming little clouds in front of him, Issei’s heart broke all over again when he caught a small sound from you like a sniffle or a sob. As if on reflex his hand slid into the front of his bag to check for tissues, then remembered you probably wouldn’t accept them.

You finally came to a halt at a bench near your dorm. You spun around and stared at him icily through red puffy eyes.

“Stop following me. You know this is creepy, right?”

“I prefer to see it as romantic.”

You scoffed. “It’s only romantic if feelings are reciprocated.”

He swallowed hard. “… I deserved that.” Then he reached into his bag and retrieved a water bottle, walked a little closer, and held it out.

“Here, drink something. I can see you squinting like you do when you’re about to get a massive headache, come on.”

You had a retort ready to launch but your head was starting to pound from the crying so with a scowl you took it and gulped down a few sips.

“None of this makes what you did okay.”, you said, unwavering.

He nodded. “I know. - Can I hold you anyway? Just til you stop crying.”

His question made new tears well in your eyes and he closed the gap between you. Before he hugged you, he hesitated in case you would kick and scream if he did. When you only continued to cry he wrapped his arms around you. At first, it was like hugging a mannequin. Then he felt you shiver and sob harder and he squeezed you tighter.

This, the warmth of him, smell of him, soothing murmurs in your ear, made it all too easy to forget for a moment why he wasn’t yours anymore.

You subconsciously grabbed onto his jacket and he started slowly swaying from side to side. He missed you so damn much. His eyes began to sting.

And on reflex like he always had, he pressed his lips against your temple, then against your cheek, then your lips. You stiffened for a moment, then returned the kiss. With his heart swelling in his chest, he cupped your cheeks to wipe away the tears, but you were already pushing him away.

“No! You can’t just… this is not okay. You hurt me! You … you broke my heart! I feel embarrassed! And pathetic. And betrayed! Don't you understand?!”

His vision blurred and he lowered his head to stare at your shoes again to hide that he started crying as well. He just nodded at first, then took a shallow breath to calm down a little.

“I know.”, he said, his voice thick and raspy. He cleared his throat, “What I did was horrible. And immature. And there is no way I can take it back. But I do love you.”

“Tch.”

“So much. I don’t want to be without you.”

“Would you give me another chance?”, you asked suddenly.

He looked up. “What?”

“If you were in my shoes. If I did to you what you did to me. Could you just get over that? Imagine if someone way out of your league started flirting with you because they thought it was funny. Because they wanted to see if they could make you fall in love. For fun.”

“That’s not… I’m so so sorry, Y/n.”

“Stop saying that!”

“I don’t know what else to do! Please, tell me, I’ll do anything!”

“There is nothing you can do! I told you it’s over!”

“I refuse to believe that! Let me show you how much I love you! I know that some part of you still loves me, too. And I know you’ll forgive me eventually because you’re a much better person than I am.”

“I think you severely underestimate just how petty I can be and how much I love holding grudges.”, you retorted and the smallest smile twitched on his lips.

There was a pause in which his expression turned gentler again and he used the sleeve of his jacket to mop up the tears gathering on his chin. “Tell me what I can do.”

“Actually show me that you’re sorry? - And find better friends.”

“Done.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”, he said firmly, “You’ll see.”

“Hm hm.”, you said doubtfully and held out the bottle to him, “Thanks for the water. I should get going.”

“Book club tonight, right?”, he asked. It was still set as a permanent reminder in his phone’s calendar so that he’d come to pick you up afterward to walk you to your dorm.

“Actually… I have a date.”

You waited for a moment before you dared to look at him again. His face had fallen and he seemed at a loss for words. When you brushed past him you half expected him to grab your hand again, to try to talk you out of it. But nothing. He stood exactly where you left him and so you went inside.

tags because I genuinely appreciate all your comments and reblogs: @samoankpoper21 @garouaddict @gojoscloset @multi-fandom-fanfic @crazyyanderefangirlfan

[part 3]

#matsukawa x chubby reader #mattsun x chubby reader #matsukawa issei x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader #matsukawa issei x reader #issei matsukawa #matsukawa angst #hq matsukawa #matsukawa x reader #haikyuu matsukawa #matsukawa issei #matsukawa x you #mattsun angst #mattsun x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst

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megalony · 4 months ago

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Birthday Wishes

I've been on a roll with writing recently and have quite a lot of fics done so I thought I would post a new, fluffy Evan Buckley one today.

I hope you will all like it.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22

Evan Buckley Masterlist

It's Bubba

Summary: Evan's birthday is drawing nearer, and so is (Y/n)'s due date. And as luck would have it, the two combine.

(Prequel to It's Bubba, but can be read alone)

Enjoy

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

Twisting to the right, (Y/n) leaned down to take one of the many boxes piled up just in front of the lift. She hoped no one would want to use the lift within the next hour, it would be easier for them to use the stairs at this point.

They had taken up most of the corridor with boxes, bags, two suitcases and a few little cabinets and tables.

(Y/n) turned on her heels and backtracked down the corridor towards Chimney's apartment. Maddie had taken a big step by agreeing to move in with Chimney and just like last year when (Y/n) and Evan helped her move into her own place- after two months of living with them. Now, they were helping her move again.

The couple didn't mind, they were happy Maddie was settled and that she trusted Chimney enough to move in with him after all she had been through with Doug.

She barely reached the apartment door before a pair of hands were suddenly stealing the box from her arms.

"Thank you."

A frown etched onto her face and she moved her empty hands down to plant on her hips. Her brows rose and she tilted her head to the side when she looked across at Maddie who spun round to take the box inside and find somewhere to put it.

(Y/n) huffed as she watched her sister in law walk inside. She could carry a box. She may be eight months pregnant, but (Y/n) was more than capable of carting the smaller boxes from the lift all the way here to the apartment. She had helped load up the lift downstairs with Maddie while Evan did the heavy lifting, bringing everything from the van inside the building.

With pursed lips, she spun on her heels and trudged back towards the lift. She scrutinised the boxes and went with one full of nicnacs and letters and certificates. Easy things. Light things that wouldn't be classed as 'too heavy'.

She passed Chimney in the corridor as he went out for the some of the last few boxes to bring in. A smile flitted across her lips when she walked inside and she could hear the music blaring out from the tv. (Y/n) had a feeling Evan was the one in control of the tv remote this afternoon.

Her eyes glanced around the apartment once she was inside, trying to see where was the best place to start stacking the last of Maddie's things when there already seemed to be very little space left in the apartment.

But just as (Y/n) walked over towards the living room, a gasp tumbled past her lips when the box was taken from her hands much the same as the last one had been.

"Give that to me."

She tilted her head back, staring up at her husband as he walked past her and set the box down on the sofa along with the large bag of books he had hooked on his elbow as if it weighed nothing.

"Why am I here if you won't let me carry anything?" (Y/n) tapped her foot against the floor while her arms folded over her chest.

She may as well have stayed at home if everyone was going to dictate what she could and couldn't carry. Evan barely let her get anything out the van downstairs and she had scarcely been allowed to get in the lift with everything and bring it up to this floor. (Y/n) was here to help, she didn't want to feel useless or like she couldn't do anything.

Her eyes followed Evan as he walked towards her with a smirk dancing across his lips and his hands reaching out for her. He held her hips and tugged her closer until her bump was pressing into his abdomen.

"You're already carrying precious cargo." He glided his thumb up and down the side of her stomach.

She had been having back ache for the last week or so, Evan didn't want her carrying anything too heavy and making herself feel any worse.

"You can always organise while we unpack everything." Maddie gave (Y/n)'s shoulder a squeeze as she walked past them both and placed a bag down on the sofa. Thank God everything was almost moved into the apartment now, or else they would run out of room.

With a huff and a smile she tried to hide, (Y/n) wormed around Evan and slowly sat down on the sofa in the small gap between the arm rest and the boxes piled onto it. If they were going to try and make her 'take it easy' then she may as well sit down for a while.

She smiled when Evan perched on the arm rest beside her and she cuddled up into his side and perched her chin on his thigh. It was soothing to feel his hand running up and down her back and she could feel his leg jittering every so lightly as he tapped his heel against the floor in a rhythmic pattern.

They both watched Maddie as she looked around the living room, both pleased that practically everything was finally here. But also overwhelmed at the effort it was going to take to unpack everything. She decided to perch down on the coffee table to face her family, they may as well all take a little break before busying themselves tidying this stuff up.

"So what are we doing for your birthday?" Maddie ran her hands up and down her thighs while she grinned knowingly at her little brother.

He was turning twenty-six next week and he had yet to say what he wanted to do and what their plans were. At least Maddie already had his present sorted. She had conferred with (Y/n) over a month ago so they both got some personalised gifts sorted for him.

"Eddie's organised to go to a few bars the day after my birthday, so that'll be fun."

Eddie already knew that Evan would want to be with (Y/n) on his actual birthday and when he asked (Y/n) if she would mind him stealing her husband the next day, she happily agreed. So Evan was going to be trolled around all the bars in town with the team.

"Can we do a party?"

"No." Evan's reply was instant and the way he rose a brow caused Maddie to frown deeply at him.

He didn't want a party. Evan couldn't remember the last time he had a good birthday party- well, he could, but that was because it had been the only proper party he had. When he was twenty one he had a party organised by his friends from college, it had been the first time in his life where his birthday was properly celebrated.

And not just with a loving present and a cake from Maddie because their parents were always too plagued by memories to celebrate Evan's birthday. He got used to not celebrating his birthday and just relishing in Maddie celebrating his day with him. It wasn't until he got together with (Y/n) that he really began going out for a meal or drinks and he felt happier celebrating the event that had never been special in his household growing up.

But he was going to make sure that things were different for his baby. Evan wasn't going to make his kids feel like they weren't loved or special or cherished on any day of their lives. And their birthdays were always going to be celebrated and made into a loving event. Evan wanted his kids to have a happy childhood, the opposite of what he had growing up.

"Why not?"

Evan glanced his eyes between his sister who looked genuinely dismayed, and his wife who looked like she was on the verge of falling asleep.

"Because twenty-six isn't a special number, Mads. Besides, I don't want one." Parties were all well and good if they were celebrating someone else, but Evan never knew what to do if he was in the spotlight.

"Well every birthday party after this year will have to be child friendly." (Y/n) muttered softly into his leg.

She had been very happy Eddie suggested taking Evan out the day after his birthday to go round all the bars. Because after this year, all their birthdays would be spent with their baby. So parties after this year would need to be refined and controlled because their baby would be with them.

"Just the way I want it." Leaning down, Evan pressed his lips to the top of (Y/n)'s head and weaved his arm around her waist so he was moulded around her.

"Okay, so if we're not doing a party, can we at least go out for a meal? Maybe just the four of us." Maddie still wanted to do something to celebrate Evan's birthday, they always did something. Whether it was going bowling, going out for drinks or a meal or just watching a movie together, they had to celebrate somehow.

"Five of us." Evan muttered quietly whilst moving his hand round to cradle (Y/n)'s stomach. But when Maddie rolled her eyes and nodded, he grinned. "Sure, that sounds good."

***

"Baby…" Evan's tone, although sugary sweet and melodic, was laced with sleep and had a gritty edge that gave away he had been soundly sleeping just a few minutes ago.

(Y/n) hummed, unsure who he was talking to considering he had his face meshed up into her side with one arm slung around her waist, cradling her bump. She often thought Evan was talking to her, only to find out he was having a different, endearing conversation with their baby.

He nudged his head back on the pillow and cracked an eye open to look up at (Y/n), considering he was laid down and she was sitting up. Propped up by a mountain of pillows in a vain attempt to make herself comfy.

"What're you eating?" Evan tried his best to open his eyes properly and look up at his wife.

He wasn't sure what time it was, but he judged from the dreary look in (Y/n)'s eyes and the tiredness written across her face that it was late. He had been at work today and he hadn't gotten a single chance to sit down, so the moment he climbed into bed, Evan had gone out like a light. He didn't know how long he had slept for, but he could just feel that it was late.

He didn't know what woke him or how long he had been dozing in and out of sleep, but he could suddenly hear (Y/n) eating something. It didn't bother him, once Evan was asleep he could sleep through a tornado. But he was curious to know what exactly she was munching away on that sounded so crunchy. To Evan, it sounded like she was crunching on broken glass.

(Y/n) paused, sucking her lower lip between her teeth as she glanced down to her right where Evan was looking up at her through tired, squinted eyes.

She could feel an apologetic smile pulling on her lips as she tilted the plastic bowl down so Evan could see what she had gotten as a snack. But when he couldn't seem to figure out what it was, (Y/n) popped one into her mouth and leaned down to kiss his temple.

She felt the way Evan sucked in a sharp breath and jerked against her when her cold lips touched his forehead and she pressed the cube of ice against his temple as if she wanted to give him brain freeze.

"Ice?" He murmured into her chest, confusion laced in his tone while he twisted to push himself up on his left elbow so he could be level with her.

"Want some?" She was only joking, she knew for a fact Evan wasn't going to dive into the bowl of crushed ice she had been eating for a while now. But (Y/n) loved the dazed look on his face and the quirky smile that pulled at his lips.

"Why are you crunching on ice, baby? There's ice cream in the freezer, and I'm pretty sure there's doritos in the cupboard." Evan took another glance in the bowl she had resting comfortably on top of her bump before he leaned up and captured her lips in a kiss.

Out of all the things she could eat, Evan found it bizarre to find her eating ice. It didn't exactly have any flavour like an ice pop, and Evan had gone to the shops yesterday for a few bits. He specifically remembered picking up ice cream, and he knew (Y/n) had been fixated on doritos for the last week or two so he stocked up on those too. There were much better things to be eating in the house than just plain ice.

"Ask your child. They are craving ice cubes, not ice cream." (Y/n) popped another cube into her mouth while she dropped her head back into the mountain of pillows.

She had seen the ice cream in the freezer, but it didn't take her fancy. For some unknown reason, she was craving ice. The sensation made her ears pop with every crunch and her mouth had gone numb from the temperature, but she was fixated and just kept crunching away on the cubes.

At least it kept her hydrated.

"My baby's crazy." Evan mumbled with a cheeky grin and he leaned over to press a kiss to (Y/n)'s stomach before he hooked his arm back over her waist. But just as he went to lay down, his eyes caught sight of the clock on the side table. "It's late, baby, aren't you tired?"

He didn't want to say she looked tired, he dared not say that, it wouldn't be the kindest thing to say to his pregnant wife. But she did look exhausted and it was past midnight.

"My back kills, and the baby won't settle so I can't sleep."

She wanted to. (Y/n) was desperate to lie down and go to sleep, but her back was twinging every few seconds and it didn't get any better when she tried to lie down. Then when she had laid down earlier, the baby kicked up a storm and started wriggling around, making it impossible for (Y/n) to manage any sleep. She thought she may as well stay up and try to watch a tv show if the baby was going to insist on keeping her up.

"Lie down sweetheart, I'll tell them to sleep." Evan waited for (Y/n) to turn the tv off and try to shuffle around to get comfy before he dared to close his eyes. He let her wriggle back into him and he draped his arm back around her waist, tucking his face into the crook of her neck.

He could feel her knees pulling up against her bump and she shimmied around a few times, clearly trying to lay in a position that didn't make her back twinge or disturb the baby. He attached his lips to her neck while his hand slipped beneath her top and his fingers danced across her lower abdomen, drawing aimless patterns and nonsense words to try and calm both her and the baby.

(Y/n) was sure she felt Evan whisper "It's time for bed," while his hand roamed her bump and she shuffled back into him. Snuggling into his chest that was like a radiator giving off waves of heat.

Hopefully the baby would listen to him.

"Hey baby, Mads wants to know where we wanna go for dinner, what'd you think?" Evan ran the towel over the back of his head to dry off his hair which was already turning crimped, he could feel it.

His bare feet thumped against the stairs with enough force to make echoes vibrate around the house. If he were feeling more alive and awake he would have walked with a bit more spring in his step and less sluggish movements, but he was tired. He shouldn't have picked up the extra shifts this week, but whenever Bobby asked him, Evan didn't have the heart to say no.

That shift yesterday had drained all his energy, and when (Y/n) couldn't sleep, Evan tried to stay awake with her. He didn't like the thought of going to sleep and leaving her awake in discomfort on her own.

Once he was downstairs, Evan headed into the living room and made a beeline for the sofa where he could see (Y/n).

"Where do you fancy going?" He tossed his phone onto the coffee table and moved to plonk down next to her.

His birthday was three days away, but Maddie wanted to get a table booked in advance for wherever Evan and (Y/n) decided they wanted to go for dinner. They had said that Evan and (Y/n) would go and do something together in the morning, and then all of them would eat together late on in the afternoon. And then Evan would be roaming round the bars with Eddie and the rest of the team the next day.

Evan was glad Bobby had given him five days off in a row to have his birthday with (Y/n) and then some time to recover the drinking escapade they would be going on.

When Evan leaned his head back on the sofa and looked to his right, he felt a wave of dread washing over him.

(Y/n) had one of the cushions pinned into her chest with one arm strapped over it like a barrier while her other hand was pressed against her mouth so she could bite down on her nails. But it was the tears beginning to trace down her cheeks which made Evan's heart sky rocket in his chest.

He sat up straight and leaned over towards her, moving his hand to gently rest on her thigh while his other hand moved towards her face. He carefully swiped his thumb over her cheek to dry away the tears and he turned her head so she was looking at him.

"Hey, hey what's the matter sweetheart?" He continued to trace his thumb over her cheek while he gauged her face to try and see what was wrong. "Did we run out of ice?" He tried to joke when (Y/n) didn't answer, but she wasn't in floods of tears which made him think that this wasn't a horrible or dire situation, thank God.

(Y/n) sniffed, trying her best to stop the tears but she couldn't seem to help it and more trickled down her face like a leaky tap.

She pinned the cushion tighter to her chest while she inched to the left and leaned over until she could pull out of Evan's grasp and lean her head on his shoulder instead. She nuzzled her nose into his neck while she felt his arm weave around the back of her shoulders to keep her tucked safely into his side.

"What's up?" He murmured softly into her hair while he glided his hand up and down her arm.

He waited patiently, but his brows lifted in surprise when (Y/n) let go of the cushion and instead grabbed his free hand that was still curled around her thigh. She pulled on his hand until she could press his palm rather forcefully into the underside of her abdomen. He could feel the way she was twitching and shifting in her seat every few seconds, but he couldn't exactly feel the baby kicking.

"Evan, it- oow, it hurts." (Y/n) felt the way he tensed up when her words registered in his ears. "I think it might be contractions."

She wasn't sure, but (Y/n) was rather positive that this was the beginning of labour. Heck, last night's discomfort and unease might have been the actual start, and now the odd pains she was getting every now and then could possibly be contractions happening.

She was almost thirty-eight weeks along, so labour was possible at any time now, but this was so close to Evan's birthday. His birthday was in three days time, and now (Y/n) had gone and ruined all the plans they had made.

"I- I'm sorry," (Y/n) closed her eyes and burrowed her face more into his neck until she felt him leaning back to try and look down at her.

"Sweetheart, what are you sorry for?" The lighthearted tone in Evan's voice took (Y/n) by surprise and when she gingerly lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him, she found a bewildered smile playing on his lips.

"You- your birthday, we had plans. I've spoiled them all."

When her lower lip started to wobble, a quiet sound passed Evan's lips and he leaned down to give her a soft kiss. He traced his thumb along her jawline while his other hand stayed lovingly on her stomach. The panic in her voice made his heart break, but the nervousness surrounding her made Evan fall in love with her all over again.

"Oh baby," He murmured quietly as he grinned against her mouth and kissed her again. "You really think I'd be unhappy about this? I'll get to spend my birthday with my baby, this is great."

The excitement in Evan's voice made (Y/n)'s heart skip a beat and she found herself smiling through her tears.

She thought this would be a bad thing. They had plans, they were supposed to be going out for a family meal together with Maddie and Chimney. They had planned to go out and spend the morning together. Evan was meant to be going out for drinks with the team and having a break and some fun away from work and stress.

Having their baby now wasn't something (Y/n) had planned for and she didn't want to have them yet. She wanted to spend Evan's birthday and the days leading up to it trying to spoil him and show him how loved he was. She didn't want to take the attention away from his birthday by going into labour now.

His parents had taken the attention off of him all of his life, (Y/n) didn't want to do it to him now.

"If my birthday is me sitting in a hospital chair next to you, cradling our baby, then that's the best birthday I'll of ever had."

Evan would happily ring Maddie and explain that they might have to postpone their dinner to next week. He would gladly ring Eddie and say that a night out would have to wait a month or two and he would call Bobby and say he needed to have his three weeks off now for being home with his new baby.

If Evan ended up on his birthday, sat in a hospital room with his family, cradling the most precious life in his arms, then he would be the happiest person in the world. He couldn't think of a better way to spend his birthday than being with (Y/n) and their baby and showing off that he was now a dad.

"Really?" Her voice wavered but her smile looked radiant to Evan and he leaned his chest down into hers to steal a deeper kiss.

"Really. Now let me go find the hospital bag and ring Maddie to tell her the good news."

***

*Any news yet?? xx *Not yet, shouldn't be too much longer. xx

Evan slid his phone back onto the little table beside the bed before he shuffled closer on the edge of the chair so he could reach over for (Y/n)'s hand. He tangled their fingers together while his free hand slowly began to card through (Y/n)'s hair. He brushed her hair away from her face and ran his fingers through the back of her hair in rhythmic strokes.

The only person who knew (Y/n) was in labour was Maddie. Evan had rang her to let her know that (Y/n) had gone into labour and they would have to cancel his birthday dinner. But he thought it better to wait until after the birth to tell the team. He couldn't wait to ring and announce that his baby had finally arrived, the suspense and shock would make it better.

Maddie was a little eager to know whether she had a niece or nephew and had been texting every now and then to see how things were going.

Evan felt bad. (Y/n) had been in labour for two days but it felt like two weeks had passed. This last hour had finally given them some hope because the contractions were almost constant, giving them a bit of hope that they might finally have their baby now.

He brought (Y/n)'s hand up to his lips so he could kiss the back of her hand. His eyes raked up and down her frame, watching the way she winced and coiled her knees up tighter to her stomach. She was laid on her side with her right arm tucked beneath the pillow and her other, trembling hand in Evan's grip.

"Alright you two, shall we take another look?" Their midwife, Moira, peeked her head around the door and wore a tender smile.

She had been feeling very sympathetic for them both when, every time she came to check on them and see how dilated (Y/n) was, she had to tell them they weren't ready yet. At one point, (Y/n) had started crying.

(Y/n) croaked out a quiet "Oh God," when another contraction splintered through her muscles.

She gave a weak tug on Evan's hand and she tried in vain to smile when he helped her carefully twist onto her back rather than her side. She lifted her arm from beneath the pillow and slumped it over her eyes to block out the light while her other hand pulled Evan's hand to rest his arm across her chest.

"Okay, I think your wait is finally over. Let's have this baby."

Evan kissed the back of (Y/n)'s hand when a smile lit up her face and he could almost feel the relief radiating off of her in waves.

It felt strange to have a monitor on her stomach, but (Y/n) rather liked the soft sound of the baby's heartbeat lulling in the background. She could hear Moira milling about the room, presumably getting everything set up and ready while they waited for another contraction so they could begin the last part of the process.

"Can I stay lying down?" (Y/n)'s voice was quiet and Evan could feel his heart igniting at the tender look on her face as if she thought the midwife might conduct her to move and become uncomfortable.

"You lay however you like, whatever works for you."

When she tugged on Evan's hand, he took the hint and stood up so he could move to sit on the edge of the bed. He rested their entwined hands on his thigh while his other hand roamed along the side of her stomach and moved about like he had too much nervous energy.

Neither of them had gotten much sleep over the last few days, but they weren't tired. Evan had panicked about an hour ago when (Y/n) got a sudden burst of adrenaline that had her trembling like she was being shocked. But he calmed down a little when the nurses assured him it was normal.

Evan turned his head back to look at the midwife when (Y/n)’s hand tightened around his own signalling she was having another contraction. He cringed when (Y/n) started pushing and her groan rebounded through his ears and made a shiver run down his spine. And he could feel her shaking and trembling which rocked into him and had shivers coursing through his blood.

"Here we go," He murmured quietly, going back to carding his fingers through her hair because he could see the motion seemed to calm her down quite a lot. And he watched as she dropped her arm from over her eyes to scrunch around the bed sheet, giving herself something to cling to and ground herself with.

"Okay, head's born now, well done."

Something akin to a smile fluttered on (Y/n)'s lips when she felt Evan move as soon as the midwife spoke. He kept hold of her hand and his other hand moved to her shoulder but he leaned down to look at their baby.

Evan had delivered a few babies over the years of being a fireman and nothing really shocked him anymore. But this was different. That was his own little baby that was coming into the world and there wasn't a sight that would ever match that. Seeing any other woman give birth was never going to make Evan's heart clench or send his stomach rocketing like this.

His baby.

"That's it, push again (Y/n),"

"Almost there, sweetheart." Evan leaned over her to press his lips against her temple that was burning up as if he were trying to kiss flames.

Tears tracked down (Y/n)'s face and she felt like she was on fire when she heard the midwife say that the shoulders were born. Then the arms. Finally, it would be over soon. Their baby would be in their arms in no time. All the waiting and the hours of agony with no end in sight were behind them now.

(Y/n) felt like she was being electrocuted and as if her legs had been burned off at the thighs when she heard a sudden cry. Her body started to shake and she couldn't hear whatever Evan said even though she could feel his lips moving against her temple and his voice vibrated against her skin.

The feeling of Evan's fingers raking through her hair seemed to ground (Y/n) and gave her something to focus on when she finally heard Moira telling her it was all over. The baby was born. She had done it.

"Does dad want to cut the cord?"

(Y/n) patted Evan's arm and gave him a little nudge, nodding in reassurance that she would be fine if he let her go. She felt him press a sloppy kiss to her temple before he reeled up and shuffled down towards the end of the bed.

His fingers briefly skimmed across (Y/n)'s ankle and up the back of her leg before he took the medical scissors from the midwife and tried to stop himself from shaking. She held the cord up where she had clamped it off and Evan cut it just like he had done at least three times before when he was on shift. But this was so much more exciting, this was his little baby.

"You have little boy."

A grin broke out on (Y/n)'s tear-stained face and her arms moved up to curl shakily around her baby when the newborn was placed down carefully over her chest. She brushed her finger across his head, feeling the tiny wisps of sandy hair that matched Evan's.

She could feel her cheeks hurting from how wide she was smiling and she barely managed to tear her eyes away from her baby boy to look up at Evan when he shuffled back up next to her. A quiet hum left her lips when she realised Evan had shed a few tears and his eyes had reddened.

He cradled the back of their son's head, brushing his thumb up and down his temple while he leaned down to peck (Y/n)'s forehead.

"Shall I spruce him up for you, then the proud dad can have a hold?"

(Y/n) nodded and let Moira carefully ease the newborn from her chest to get him cleaned up and swaddled in a blanket.

Her eyes lifted to look back at Evan when he cupped her cheek and leaned down to press a searing kiss to her lips that stole the little air she had left in her lungs. She could feel him smiling against her mouth, unable to stop himself and he traced his teeth along her lower lip before finally pulling up for air.

"He's perfect." Evan could already imagine the phone calls he would be making in a while to everyone. He would be proudly telling them all he had a beautiful little boy and he knew Maddie would be down here as soon as Evan called her.

"He is… can you help me up?" When Evan obliged and looped her arms around his neck, (Y/n) smothered her face into his shoulder and pressed a few, tender kisses to his exposed skin. She smiled into him when he helped her sit up before he pressed the button to tilt the bed up so she wasn't lying down anymore.

They stayed like that for a few moments, tangled together in a hug that was making (Y/n) tired now that all her energy had been used up. But Evan finally pulled back and pressed a sloppy kiss to her cheek when Moira came back over to them.

"And here's your little charmer, born at three-eighteen in the morning."

She eased James down into Evan's waiting arms and he almost jumped up from the bed when a jolt of excitement shot through him. This was his boy. This was his little baby, his first born. He had a son, and he was perfect with a tiny button nose and little pale lips that were curved into a heart-shaped pout.

"Oh, God."

"What?" Evan bounced his arms up and down, carefully rocking the newborn while he looked down at (Y/n).

She looked like a light bulb had just sparked above her head and for a moment he thought something was wrong. Until her lips melted into a smile that made his heart burst and had his brows raising in happy confusion.

"Happy birthday, baby."

Her hand cupped the side of Evan's face and she gently pulled him down to her so she could press a sweet kiss to his wet lips.

It was now morning. Neither of them had been taking a close look at the date or time and the last six or seven hours had gone by in a flash. The last time (Y/n) heard the time, it had been roughly nine at night. If it was now morning, that meant that their baby boy had technically been born on Evan's birthday.

He shared his birthday with his son.

When (Y/n) released him from a kiss, Evan made sure their boy was cradled in the crook of his left arm before he reached out for his phone on the side table.

Huh. It actually was his birthday. Time had become scrambled ever since they turned up at the hospital. Evan had been expecting their baby to be born the day before his birthday. Technically, he thought (Y/n) would of given birth two days before his birthday, he didn't think she would spend almost three days in labour like she had.

How immensely beautiful that labour had lasted long enough to allow Evan to share a birthday with his baby boy. It was as if the universe knew that Evan had never thought of his birthday as a special day and had now given him a purpose to celebrate the day like he should.

"Oh, don't tell me father and son now share a birthday? What perfect timing." Moira placed a gentle hand on Evan's shoulder and smiled at him sweetly while she looked down at the little boy in his arms. Clearly this didn't happen too often on her shifts.

"This is the best gift I've ever gotten." Evan murmured quietly and raised his arms up so he could delicately kiss his son's temple.

***

"Buck?"

"Hey Eddie," A quiet, breathless laugh followed Evan's words while he reclined back in his chair and stared down at the best birthday gift he had ever been given.

His eyes delicately cast over to (Y/n) who was laid on her side, head burrowed down into the pillow and her body curled up like she was a little fox in a burrow. She had finally managed to fall asleep and while she was resting, Evan had begun the phone calls. He had spent the last twenty minutes on the phone to his sister, telling her everything from how long it had taken to what colour hair his boy now had.

Now Evan was spending some precious moments with his boy, and he knew it was far too early in the morning to be ringing anyone but Maddie. She gave him permission to call at any time day or night to let her know the outcome and if everything was okay.

Evan knew he shouldn't be ringing Eddie at this time in the morning, but he was too happy to contain his excitement and he just wanted to ring round and tell everyone.

"Listen, I know it's now your birthday and all, so happy birthday. But did you seriously wake me at four in the morning for that?"

The gruff tone in Eddie's voice gave away that he wasn't happy about an early morning call. He could gather by Evan's voice that this wasn't a panicked situation or anything bad, which was good, but Eddie didn't like to be woken up early.

"You'll never guess the present (Y/n) just gave me."

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #buck x reader #buck imagine #bobby nash #maddie buckley

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beardysuits · 4 months ago

Text

Closer to Dad pt 2

Part 1 found here

I can’t believe it, I’m uncle Rob! I was still getting used to being a solid 50 pounds heavier, probably even more to be honest. When I dressed up as Rob, I had chosen one of his older football jerseys to feel his stomach pressed against his beefy belly. Each step I took I could feel the fabric stretch to accommodate my new form. I patted it, feeling the jiggle ripple through the rest of my abdomen. This was going to be a fun day.

Normally it would have taken me about 15 minutes to get from Rob’s house back to mine, but with my new longer legs, and the amount of excitement built in, I made it in half the time. Stepping up to the front door, my heart was racing in anticipation. I haven’t spent real quality time with my dad in what felt likes years. To go from being the scrawny son he essentially ignored, to becoming his best friend and brother, was a dramatic shift. However, I let out a long breath of air and pounded on the door with my strong fist.

Dad, I guess I should refer to him by his first name now, Mike, opened the door and looked at me inquisitively. He wasn’t even wearing his usual jersey, just a green t shirt and jeans, his hair messy, with the locks shining in the golden sunlight.

“Rob? What are you doing knocking on the door? You haven’t done anything but stroll in like a bastard for years”. Shit, of course I should have just walked in. Rob’s been coming over to our place for years now to hang out with my dad. I chuckled to try and cover.

“What and not take you up on opening the door for me? Fat chance,” I told him with my best uncle Rob impersonation. He rolled his eyes and ushered me in. I think I can still play this off. Coming into my home as Rob made it feel like a brand new experience, like I was stepping foot for the first time. Though that may just be because I’m about a foot taller and my perception has greatly shifted at this new height.

“You want a beer?” Mike asked, closing the door behind me.

“It can’t even be 8 am,” I told him without a second thought. His eyebrow raised again.

“What took you so long to ask?” I asked him back. He scoffed and wandered off to the kitchen. My heart would not slow down. I can make a couple of recoveries, but what am I supposed to do when he actually starts talking about football? Mike came back, and tossed me an unopened can. I popped the tab and took a swing, almost spitting it right back out. Fuck me, that’s what beer tastes like? At the tender age of 20, I was just shy of getting myself any alcohol of my own. Though also, at the tender heart, I was too chicken to sneak one of my dad’s to try before today.

Thankfully Mike had his back turned to me, otherwise he surely would have seen me grimace from the taste.

“So, game’s not for another hour,” he said, coming back from the kitchen again, this time holding the entire box full of beers. Oh god do I have to drink all of those? I can’t even stomach one.

“How about you make your lazy ass of some use and help me stock the fridge? Especially since you didn’t bring any of your own,” he continued. Was I supposed to bring something? I’m clearly an awful guest. I followed him downstairs to his man cave, one which I rarely stepped foot in.

It was what one would expect of a middle aged man who was obsessed with football. A once plush couch now worn out from years of ass being met with it, a small beer fridge along the side, massive flat screen tv along the back wall. If you pick up a copy of “Man Caves for Dummies”, you’d find this on chapter one. Mike shoved the box of beers at me and I waddled off to the fridge to stock up. Not like there was much space anyways, he always kept it pretty filled.

As I was finishing up the bottom level of the fridge, I felt a hard smack against my ass, almost causing me to shove my whole head into the fridge.

“Hurry up slowpoke, I wanna get these chilled before the game starts,” Mike said, pulling another beer out of the top shelf. He already finished the first one? I was too distracted to even drink mine, now so aroused at my ass getting smacked, and being ordered around by my dad. Don’t get me wrong, I was used to him ordering me around before, but this time it was playful. It didn’t help that my new cock was pressed against the silky material of my jockstrap, hidden under Rob’s set of Wranglers. I was chubbed up since I came in his body earlier today, but the touch of Mike, and the material sliding against it, made me rock hard.

I adjusted my pants to help try and mitigate how much of my cock showed and closed the fridge door behind me.

“Just giving you time to remember how I got the good ass genes from dad,” I told him. I turned and shook my ass at him, smacking it myself. Fuck Rob’s butt really kept up some perk since his old military days.

“Please, the only thing you got from dad was a bad back and a receding hairline,” he said, chuckling to himself. He took a swig out of his beer and I decided to mirror him. This time, I knew what to expect and choked down the ale with less effort. This actually wasn’t too bad after a while. He reclined back on the couch and kicked his feet up on the corner L of the sofa. He was wearing his basketball shorts and his calves were showing. I never looked at my father in a suggestive way from the implication alone, but I wasn’t me right now. Even as his brother it felt like I was somebody entirely different.

I could admire how strong his legs looked, especially when he stretched one of them out to pop his knee. The shorts rode up and a brief glimpse of his thigh bared itself to me. This didn’t help my need to hide my raging boner at all. He turned his attention from the TV and looked at me.

“What are you waiting for? Permission?” He asked. I sat on the opposite end of the couch from him. We had an hour until the game, and I immensely regretted not doing more research before I took over Rob. Mike tried to engage with me about the team, sports, players, and I did my best to rebut against them with jokes and more general comments. He definitely knew something was up though. I drank through the whole thing, feeling my new belly slosh as it contained nothing but beer. The jersey I was wearing started to feel even tighter as I felt my stomach expand to accommodate.

“Jeez Rob are you okay?” He asked me, minutes before the game began. My consciousness was starting to fade some, the alcohol finally starting to kick in. I had to have been 6 beers in by this point, only taking so long due to Rob’s large build.

“What do you mean?” I asked him, blinking slowly to orient myself. He finished his last bit of his drink and threw it into the closest trash can.

“You aren’t yourself. No idea what I’m talking about, stumbling through any conversation, it’s like I’m talking to…” he shrugged, “well, Timmy”. That made me snap into focus. The original plan when I took over Rob was to talk to my dad about anything but football, and hopefully, make him actually like the real me.

“What about Tim?” I asked him. He cracked open a new beer.

“Well you know, he’s a good kid, but I just don’t get him. Always up in his room all day, toying around with those little figures of his.” My figures I paint as a hobby. Something about bringing those little guys to life brought me a lot of calm. I didn’t even think my dad knew they existed.

“Have you tried connecting with him about what he likes?” I asked him. I knew the answer, but wanted to hear him admit it.

“Yeah,” he said. Liar. “I mean, kind of. I just don’t get it. You known when we were growing up we were outside, running around the woods, getting dirty. Tim he just, I don’t know, is just a shut in. We didn’t grow up like that, he actually did things. Like when we kidnapped the Connors’ dog and posted a ransom to buy snacks in the summer. I mean you know, we did a LOT together. Tried new things, grew closer. He doesn’t do anything, just toys away and plays on that damn computer”.

Ouch. Can’t say I’m surprised though, it’s about what I expected him to feel.

“But I wanna connect with him, you know. I want to be his dad, not just his father. I taught him to ride a bike, hit a baseball, how football works. Then he became a teenager and just dropped all of it and became a different kid.” I was about to open another beer, but wanted to be as much of myself as possible.

“You know Mike, I think he may have always been like this,” I told him. He raised an eyebrow in response. “I think, he just wanted to be the person you wanted him to be so you’d love him. But, he found out that he wasn’t happy doing those things, so he just decided to be himself, and hope you’d love him anyway.”

Mike was silent for a long time, not even taking another drink.

“That is, at least my theory,” I said. He shrugged and pondered.

“I mean I do love him, no matter what he does,” he finally said. “He’s my son. He can be a pro athlete or build and sell a computer for a living. I just figured since we had so much fun together and have great memories, that’s how he should do it too. But, maybe I should try and see how we can do what he likes more.”

I could feel the tears well in my eyes. Fuck Dad, why couldn’t you just tell me that.

“Thanks Rob for just letting me- are you crying?” He asked. I wiped the tears away and hid my face from him.

“No no, just, fuck it,” I said, looking for a new beer.

“You fucking softie,” he said, a hearty laugh escaping him. “Here, for you listening to my bitching.” He leaned over the armrest of the sofa for a little while and finally pulled out a new can. He tossed it to me. Raising his own, he opened the tab. I did the same, only to be met with a flare of foam dousing me. He cackled and slapped his knee.

“Fucker!” I yelled at him, already becoming inhibited from all the drinks. “Gotta change this fucking shirt now,” I told him. I could feel the words slurring as the alcohol came on harder. I stood up, stepping back to try and regain my balance. I grabbed the bottom of my jersey with both hands and yanked it up, my head stuck in the hole before finally tugging it off and slamming it to he ground.

I looked down, once again admiring Rob’s hairy chest and beautiful pecs. The years of service he did performed wonders on his body, which he didn’t give up on as he reached middle age.

“Give me a shirt,” I told him, trying to make it to the staircase.

“Rob fucking sit down, you’re fine,” he called out to me. “Let that shit dry and just be half naked for a bit you puss.” I walked back and fell back on the sofa. My cheeks were flaring up and I could feel my heart pounding from the exertion. I put my hand on my chest to feel the heart rate, and couldn’t help but squeeze a little, feeling the pec succumb to my own touch. I chuckled and looked over to my father, who was looking at me intently. I chuckled to him.

“What?” I asked, losing sight in trying to pretend to be Rob at this point. He smirked.

“Nothing, just, all this talk about our childhoods is making me just remember the good old times. You know know, the Connors dog, the woods, the…. late night talks. Ones about girls, and who was hot in my grade, who was hot in yours. How we’d-“ he pulled his own shirt off and threw it on top of mine. “Try to figure out what would make them feel good”.

I admired Mike’s body, not as toned as mine, but certainly he took care of himself as he aged. He own chest displayed a gorgeous set of fur. How did I miss out on just how beautiful he was? How did I not get these genes and looked more like my mother? How is he looking at me so… sexually? He slid down the L of the sofa, laying his head against the back cushion, throwing an arm behind his head to rest it. His armpit was shadowed in a dark bush, which I can only imagine smelled of a strong musk.

Wait what the fuck? This is my dad, or my brother? He’s family, but I did jerk off my own uncle just hours before. He’s my dad, but he’s also not making this weird. He’s.. he’s.. fuck he’s sexy!

“Game’s about to start,” I told him finally, not taking my eyes off his physique.

“They’re playing the Buccaneers, I know how it’ll go,” he said. He got on all fours and crawled to me. Judging from the look in his eyes, the beers had taken their toll on him as well. We were now face to face, mere inches from one another. I could smell the alcohol on his breath as he leaned in and planted his lips on mine. I pushed back a bit, but he wouldn’t let me break away. His tongue slithered forward and traced it along my new one. I gave in and wrestled his with my own, my lips moving in sync with his. He placed a hand on my chest and squeezed at my pec, the warm touch juxtaposing with the shivers which shot through me.

I took my hand and placed it on the back of his head, brushing my fingers through his salt and pepper hair. As I gripped at it, he became more aggressive and reached for my throat. He wasn’t rough with it, but placed his thumb just below my Adams apple, pressing firmly. My breath was ragged from his force, and my pants had grown so incredibly tight in futile attempts to restrain my cock. My other hand went on the lower end of his back, guiding him to press into me, the fur on our chests entangling.

He slipped his mouth away from my lips, running them down my neck, kissing me as he lowered himself further down this stolen body. When he got to my belly, he took extra time to take both hands and rub them across it. He worshipped my stomach, kissing at it, gripping, and without a single word, making me know it was his. His hands ran down my stomach to zipper off my hands, toying with it. I spoke back to him with my dick, flexing it to tell him it needed to be released.

He looked up at me and smirked, lowering his head down again to lick at my bulge. It was torture, I needed to produce it to him and have it slide down his throat. I reached my hand down to get to my pants, but he immediately snapped and grasped my wrists.

“Uh uh,” he hushed. “Remember, I’m making you the girl here. And a good girl, lets the man do what he wants.” He released my wrists and finally got his hands back on my zipper. He zipped it down, before finally finishing with a flourish and pulling the Wranglers down to my ankles. He worked to get them kicked off my feet, before being met a silky pink jockstrap, which could snap at a moments notice. It was absolutely soaked in precum, and my dick had pushed it to its limits.

“What the fuck Rob? You sporting these now?” He asked me. I smirked at him.

“Was just remembering the good times,” I told him with a wink. He seemed to hesitate, almost snapping back to reality. However, the lust must have taken over, as he proceeded to take his tongue and lick up the precum which topped off the jock. Just feeling the tip of his tongue hit my cock made me groan involuntarily.

“Shut up, Tim might be home,” he told me. I wouldn’t worry about that, I wanted to tell him, but no words could form at this point. He proceeded to lap at my bulge, seeming to suck off any of the pre which had accumulated. Just as it seemed he was about to pull my jock off, he backed away. Fuck, was something wrong? I looked up and saw him working on getting his own pants off. He was struggling, barely able to move at all.

I assisted him, leaning forward and not taking the same slow care he had given me. I yanked the pants off and discovered two thing about my dad. One, he liked to go commando. Two, he had an impressive cock. Veiny, hard as a rock, and long enough that I knew he could rub out a prostate without even going halfway in. If he was the surprisingly soft and sultry type, I was the ravenous one. I had never actually sucked a dick before, but had watched plenty of films to emulate what others had done. I gripped the base of his shaft, which despite how large my new hands were, still was an intimidating beast.

I licked at the head of his cock, tasing the musky aroma come to life as the sensation of manhood trickled down my throat. He tasted amazing, his own precum starting to mix with the sweat he had built through the day. I licked my lips, lubing them up as I began to take his entire cock into my mouth. The years of study had prepared me somewhat for what it took to take him, but practice made perfect. At first I almost gagged and vomited the half dozen beers which still waved in my stomach, but as I got into a rhythm, it became easier. He leaned his head back and didn’t say a word, but moans were suppressed from his closed mouth.

He raised both arms up, showing off his pits. The smell permeated through the air, filling my nostrils. He must have not showered in the past couple of days, as I could smell the usual scent of my father embody the room. It motivated me to work harder, pushing my lips to the base of his balls and holding them in place. He grabbed the sides of my head and thrust his cock back and forth, skull fucking me as a growls began to erupt from him.

I thought he was about to coat my throat with his cum, but just as he was about to finish, he threw my head back and pushed me to the other side of the sofa. I looked up to find him jerking himself off and staring at me seductively.

“Turn around and show your big brother that hole of yours,” he commanded, sitting up on his knees. I did as he was told, getting on all fours and facing away from him. I felt the couch move below him as he crawled to me. He spit, and the sensation of his saliva against my hole made me shake. With one hand, he spread my ass cheek to the side, and with the other, I felt him guide the tip of his cock. Pressing against my hole, I gripped at the fabric in the couch, my knuckles turning white.

“Easy,” he told me. “Remember, just like we used to practice.” He pushed the tip and my hole reluctantly allowed him in. It was a shock of pain which made me scream. His hand quickly shot to my mouth and covered it, muffling my howls.

“I told you to shut up,” He said. He kept pushing his cock further in, still holding my mouth closed. He inch which slid its way in made me try to yell louder in and louder, but his calloused hand pressed harder against my lips. There was a sensation, a pop. Immediately I stopped yelling and groaned again, this time in ecstasy.

“There you go lil bro,” he told me. “Just like riding a bike”. He pulled out some and pushed his way back in. Fuuuuuuck. Fuck he was so god damn big! He pumped, his cock rubbing against my prostate. Each thrust sent electricity coursing through my body and out the tip of my cock. I hadn’t touched it in ages and wanted to pump in unison with him, but too much of me was just holding on to the couch for dear life. His thrust began to increase in speed, with no room in between for rest.

“Fuck daddy’s gonna cum!” He yelled out, clearly not worried about the noise anymore. He put a hand on each of my shoulder to steady himself.

“Cum in me dad, cum in me!” I yelled out, my lips free from his grasp.

“FUCK!” He yelled out, pushing his balls deep against my bare ass. I felt his cock twitch with his pulse as wave after wave of his cum shot deep into my colon. I counted it out, each pulse getting weaker and weaker, before finally all I could feel was my dad’s stomach resting on my back as he caught his breath. He slid out and fell back on the couch, his legs spread, and while now limp, he cock rested beautifully on his thigh.

I laid on my own back and marveled at him, so gorgeous even just lit by the TV glow. For a second I was worried in his post nut clarity, he would realize what had happened. Instead, I could hear him snoring, somehow already passed out from the exertion. I took the opportunity to finally whip off the jock strap and pump my cock, which had been lathered up in a concoction of my precum and dad’s saliva.

I felt his cum begin to leak out of my hole, running into the couch. I grabbed a small handful and rubbed it between my fingers. It was thick and a stark white, prime for breeding. Prime for lathering up my cock further and… lathering… That, gave me an idea. Releasing my cock, I stepped to my pants he had discarded on the floor. I fumbled with the pockets until I found it, another vial.

Inside was the lotion I had made to slip myself into Rob. I was worried it would wear off while I was here, making me be ejected. So, I brought an extra container in case I had to sip back inside. But, what if I went a step further? Both of us were already naked, so I took the opportunity to pour the contents all over Rob’s body, just as I had done in my real body.

It was a miracle there was enough, as Rob was twice the size as my original body. However, I finally stood in front of my father, silk, lathered up, and ready to experiment. I was just as careful as I was when I took over Rob’s body. Fingering my dad’s hole and enlarging it. Making it able to take one finger, then two, three, until finally my whole hand was inside of him. I think all of the drinking had sedated him, as he wasn’t moving a muscle from all of the activity.

I pushed further, finding the process to be much more difficult than last time. Previously, I was going from a short, lanky form, barely 150 pounds into a man twice my size. This time, while my father was hardly a small man, had less room available to take in Rob’s body. I worked carefully, pushing both arms inside, before taking a deep breath and plunging my head inside. This sensation was the same at least. Pitch darkness, a tight sensation, the beating of his heart echoing around me. The issue was, Rob’s chest was so fucking massive, I had to really push to get inside.

I could still feel my feet outside, so I used them to prop myself up and force myself in further. I could only imagine what it looked like out there. The towering form of Rob, chest deep inside of my dad’s hole as he tried to slam his entire body into him. However, with each thrust, I could feel my body being encapsulated by my father. Eventually I found my whole upper body inside, and I worked to stretch myself out. It was like I was trying to slide into a latex suit that was two sizes too small. Every crevice of mine was suppressed and pushed inward.

It was constricting, my father’s form could barely contain the man who had at least 40 pounds of muscle on him. But surely, I found a way to get both legs inside and curl my feet in too. I felt the hole close and Rob’s body completely be closed in. Having done this once already, I had an idea of what to do next, but the size difference made it all too difficult. I did learn however from last time to adjust my cock first and not cause a panic. With both arms still not in position with my dad’s, I took my cock and slide it into his like a sheath.

Before I aligned them though, I experimented and pulled back and pushed in again. I did this a few times, feeling like I was fucking the inside of my father. It was too good, but I had to push on, the constriction was getting to me. I aligned both feet and legs, arms, hands, and finally head. I slithered my tongue into my father, and pushed the top of my head into his. With one final force, I pushed my cock into the tip of his and felt the transformation complete.

I opened my eyes and surveyed the room, my head groggy as I felt the alcohol trying to hold me still. The glow of the TV still reflected off the walls, but more noticeable than that was the smell of my father’s musk right next to me. I looked to my left and found his armpit right next to my face. I inhaled deeply, now aware that I was my dad! I liked at his bicep, knowing all the while this tongue just moments ago was worshipping me. I sat up, trying to orientate myself.

Everything was the exact same, though now I could see just under me was a pool of the lotion and cum which soaked into the seats. I rubbed my dad’s hole, and found that some of his cum was still leaking out from me. I brought it to my face and lapped it up. It was salty, tinged with the potency worthy of breeding.

I took another scoopful of his, I guess, MY own cum and lathered up my new dick. As I never did actually finish while I was just Rob, I still had a sizable load to get out. I pumped my dad’s cock which had sprung to life once more. I smelled at this pits as I did so, lapping at his biceps and worshipping my new body.

NSFW version found here

From the excitement of today, it didn’t take long before I could feel the eruption coming.

“Fuck I”m gonna cum!!” I yelled in my dad’s voice, before finally letting out the build up of cum spray all over me. Despite getting off just earlier today, it was a cascade as I coated chest. The fur absorbing every drop and sinking into my chest. My cock was bright red, pulsing as each drip soared into the air. But it was over all too soon, and I was left with just myself, the smell of cum, musk, and the football announcers quietly speaking.

I looked down at myself, proud of the mess I had made. Though, I did wonder what this meant. Was I stuck as my father, with Rob gone forever? Would I get ejected as Rob? As myself? The lotion had lasted this long already, I wonder how much longer I had. If it wasn’t long, I wanted to make the most of it. Slowly, I raised myself up and stood, looking to dress myself up. There I found the jockstrap I had Rob wear, still damp. I stepped in and shimmied it up my legs.

It was cool at this point, and made me shiver, but it was so good to be reunited with it. I rubbed my hands over my body, coaxing the cum further into my hair and admired the nice bulge my dad gave the jockstrap. Maybe if I can keep this up for a bit, I’ll have to have dad pick up some new clothes…Something with leather perhaps.

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A bit of a longer story, but hopefully that makes you all enjoy it even further! Would love to hear from all of you as to what you'd like to see more of as I try to get back more into my writing.

Thank you all!

#male bodypossession #male possession #body possession #male takeover #father and son #dad takeover #male transformation #possesion #male bodysuit #uncle and dad

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daryltwdixon · 5 months ago

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Double Lines

a requested one shot

"Hi it's me lol my request is Daryl and fem reader are a couple and they finally decided to try for a baby. When Rick returns he is proud of Daryl for everything he's done with the group as well as being a father figure to Judith and can't believe he's finally a father to his own kid. Just fluff lol up to you if there's a pregnancy loss or not in their journey to try to conceive, baby gender is up to you. Names for baby are DJ (Daryl Jr) or Elizabeth after Beth since she was your close friend as well as Daryl's 🖤🖤" @twistedprincess-92

fluffy, pregnancy, gentle Daryl, fem reader.

Daryl has his arms wrapped around you as you stand in the bathroom together. The tile flooring is cold under your bare feet, but that’s not the only thing bringing goosebumps to your skin. He’s kissing your cheeks and lips, then to your nose and temple.

“Whatever it is, I love you,” he whispers against your ear.

You smile and tuck your face into his neck. Praying, pleading, for once to see that double line. Before you made it to Alexandria, you were terrified of an accidental pregnancy. The thought of bringing a baby into this world terrified you, even though Judith had done so well. But her early years were hard. For her and the group. Daryl was just as scared as you were about pregnancy–maybe more from the fear of losing you. So when you both settled into Alexandria, the idea of a life outside of the apocalypse crept in more and more each day. You kept picturing a stumbling toddler running out to greet Daryl when he came home, what songs you would sing them to bed with, or how soft their cheeks might be. What a mini Daryl might look like, or a little girl who looked just like you might be like. Every day when you sat on your front porch, having coffee and quality time when Daryl was around, you’d picture him or her in his lap. Their eyes would be just like his, so icy blue like the first frost of winter. Their smile would be a mirror of yours, maybe with dimples or none. When you brought the idea to Daryl he was nervous at first, but he knew how much safer you both felt here. There was medicine, doctors, support to help during birth. One night, after a particularly long love making, you confessed to Daryl your thoughts. He had been worried at first, the natural panic of the past few years coming to him. But after assuring him of everything around you, how good Alexandria was for both of you, he finally agreed. That night, you spent many hours interlocked with him. It was one of the most beautiful nights with him, where you finally felt like something was happening for the better. Since then, he’s held you closer and closer when he hugs you. He pulls you into more kisses, his arms always finding your waist. He brings you flowers almost every day, never leaving the vase on your dining table empty.

Today you had told him, in a shaky voice, that your period was two weeks late. Every day since your period was supposed to be here, you just kept telling yourself it’s the stress–something hormonal. You knew there were reasons a period wouldn’t come. You’d had so many scares with Daryl because you were both starving and it was natural for a period to be missed due to the lack of nutrition. So you got used to making excuses for it. But Alexandria was…safe. It was home. So you finally decided to just tell Daryl, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. His eyes were like saucers when you came to him. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen him like that before. He immediately ran from you, and at first you were nervous you scared him away, that he needed to go out for a hunt to clear his mind. But instead, he came back quickly with a small, rectangular box. He pulled the pregnancy test from it, holding it out to you.

“Together,” he said. All you could do was fall into him for a sweet embrace.

So you find yourselves together here in the bathroom now. Waiting for those double lines.

“I love you,” you whisper into his neck.

He pulls you back, bringing your face up to his, kissing you deeply. He didn’t need words to tell you how much he loved you. His actions always spoke so much louder. When you come out of your kiss, your eyes naturally peek over to the test on the counter, and a gasp escapes from you.

There’s two bright pink lines across the tester.

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It’s so funny, almost like deja-vu. You remember picturing this exactly nine months ago. Sitting on your porch, sipping coffee, watching Daryl with your child. Except instead of one, there were two. Yes, twins. When you found out both of you nearly fainted, the news was almost too much for your frayed pregnancy nerves. But now, seeing Daryl with his closed eyes on the porch swing, two babies laying sound asleep on him during a contact nap was the most magical thing you could ever want or need. You look over to the street from a bit of motion in the corner of your eye, and you see Rick walking over, Judith in hand. She’s walking over, blabbing about something in her toddler talk. He is smiling down at her, nodding and answering back. When he looks up and catches you watching, he lifts his free hand into a wave. You smile and wave him to come up to the porch steps. As he and Judith approach, you begin to stand.

“Stay, stay,” he whispers, leaning down to kiss your cheek, “you must be tired,”

“How are you doing? Hi Judith,” you say softly, your eyes twinkling at the little one.

“We’re doin’ real good,” he says, “right Judy?”

“HI!” she says loudly, still not exactly used to using her ‘inside voice’, stirring Daryl out of his nap. The babies squirm on him, but he lays still, bringing his arms up around them tighter.

“Wow,” Rick says, watching Daryl. He’s shaking his head lightly, his eyes full of love.

“Thought I couldn’t do it?” Daryl says hoarsely with a smirk. Judith comes over to him to stare at one of the babies laying closest to her.

“No,” Rick says softly, shaking his head, “I knew you’d be amazing. You’ve always been good with the kids, Dare. I’m just…” he trails off, his throat bobbing, “I’m just real’ proud of you. How far we’ve all come,” he looks over to you now, his eyes misty. You give him a sad smile, reaching your hand out to hold his, squeezing tightly for a moment before dropping it again.

“You’ve done so much for us–for everyone. I’m real’ happy that you finally get to have this.” he finishes, leaning over, putting his hand on his chosen brother’s shoulder. Daryl stares at him intently, and nods genuinely.

“What’re their names?” Judith asks loudly. The baby closest to her opens his eyes, “Uncle Daryl? What are the babies’ names?” she asks again, impatient.

“This one here, J, is DJ. For Daryl Junior,” he smiles softly, touching DJ’s soft cheeks with the pads of his fingers.

“Wow, so he’s Daryl and you’re Daryl?” she says quizzically. Her face scrunched up in confusion.

“Tha’s right,” he says, meeting your eyes with a twinkle in his, he looks down at the other baby, still snoozing softly on him, “and this here is Elizabeth,” he says quieter now. He looks back up at Rick, a sad smile on his face. Rick returns it, and crouches down next to Judith, “that’s a beautiful name, huh, J? Tell Uncle Daryl what a nice name that is,”

She giggles, putting her fingers in her mouth and smiling, “I like it,”

“Surprised you didn’t say one of their names was Ass Kicker,” Rick smiles widely and you all laugh at the memory.

You and Daryl had decided the names early on, knowing you wanted to honor his lost friend Beth Greene. She was so gentle and good hearted. He missed her, and you knew it would mean the world to him to name his child after her. DJ was the harder one to get Daryl to sign off on–he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of his own name. He thought it was silly to name his son after himself.

“We’ll call him DJ for short–that way you won’t think about it,” you joked one afternoon.

He had taken a long pause, working on his motorcycle in the garage, tinkering with something in the engine. You had come by, hobbling over with your large belly to bring him lunch. He tended to forget to eat during the long hours he spent in the garage with his bike, and you liked visiting him during the day. When he saw you, he ran up to you to pull the stool he had in the shop under you. You sighed as you sat, and he kissed your temple as you took the weight off your swollen feet. He took the lunch from you with a small ‘thanks, baby’.

“So…?” you say breathlessly. You were getting so tired of being winded by walking 20 feet these days.

“DJ, huh?,” he finally said, “alright,” and that was that. Life had finally slowed down. You felt like everything that had happened between the two of you, the sacrifices that had to be made, the things that kept you up at night–had finally been worth it. You were safe, Daryl was safe. And now you had a beautiful family that was safe. It was all you could ever want and need.

#daryl #daryl dixon #twd daryl #the walking dead #daryl x reader #daryl one shot #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixion imagine #daryl twd #pregnancy trope #pregnancy #reader is pregnant #pregnant reader #sweet daryl #daddy Daryl dixon #daryl fanfiction #daryltwdixon

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wolvietxt · 6 months ago

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𝗇𝖾𝗂𝗀𝗁𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗉𝗈𝗈𝗅 𝗁𝖼’𝗌!

pairing : neighbour!deadpool x reader warnings : fluff, friends -> lovers, mentions of crude humor, violent threats (directed at logan), protective!wade a/n : pretty short i’m sorry😭, a couple of people asked for neighbour!deadpool though so i did merge a few reqs!

your landlord had dropped by to tell you that you had a new neighbour opposite you.

you were very excited, and before you could even go over and say hello, he was already on your doorstep, box of cookies in hand!!

he told you his friend yukio made them :3

you invited him in, and after a quick chat, you’d already decided that you really liked the guy!

he’s surprisingly a good neighbour!

he’s always running his mouth, which is something you had to get used to pretty quick, but once you did, you found it to be rather endearing

you weren’t the most talkative person, long, drawn-out silences seemed to fill most of your days, but with wade it was so different

you found yourself curled up on the sofa with him most nights, watching whatever movie you’d put on as he yapped about all the different things he’d done today

it took him a long few months to take off his mask around you, even when he occasionally enjoyed meals with you, he just pulled up the very bottom of his mask to eat

this broke your heart :(

you had assured him time and time again that it wouldn’t change a thing but he was so insistent on keeping it on

he was too attached to you already to lose you

buuut when you finally convinced him, he stood sheepishly at your door, suit + mask off, instead replaced with normal clothes

you couldn’t help but think he was making a much bigger deal than the situation warranted, but you looked past it, everybody has their insecurities

afterward, he would feel even more comfortable with you than he did before!

he makes an insane amounts of crude jokes >_<

you would have to get used to them pretty quick if you were gonna be around him lots

he’s always asking for little favours!

but of course you don’t mind doing his dishes every now and then when he’s away with logan on missions

he read online that asking for little favours makes you more likeable😭

but it does eventually get quite obvious that his shower isn’t really broken, and he’s usually just making it up as an excuse to see you :)

he does eventually return the favours with little things, like taking your trash out when you need and bringing takeout over

soo protective!

will go out of his way if anyone is bothering you, just give him the word and he will take care of it

how he manages it, you don’t know, and honestly you’d rather not

he senses logan may have eyes for you when he sees logan’s gaze linger on you for a moment too long

he’s sure you don’t feel the same though

just to make sure, he politely threatens logan, that if he ever even thinks about you for more than a couple of seconds, he will be skinned alive and hung up on the wall next to his x-men comic collection

safe to say you are no longer on logan’s mind

he also cooks meals for you!

he’s a surprisingly good cook, he’s learnt a lot from peter :)

he’s hoping you’ll get the hint from all the things he does for you and all the time he spends with you but you seem to be a bit slow in that department😭

eventually (after much mocking from logan and blind al) he plucks up the courage to ask you out :3

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sturniqlo · 6 months ago

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Baby Building- C.S

summary: chris surprises y/n while she out with her friends with a fully finished nursery with the help of his brothers

cw: mild cursing

an: very short, i'm sorry next part will be longer i promise

masterlist | positive masterlist | join my taglist

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twenty weeks pregnant

"Guys, stop fooling around and help build this crib." Chris scolds his brothers, holding up different pieces to the unbuilt crib. "We've been at this for thirty minutes already and all we've gotten done is nailing part A to part R! Which is wrong." Nick places down his water bottle he got from the fridge. "Why'd you choose such a difficult crib to build?" Matt says, unscrewing R from A. "I didn't, Y/n chose it." Chris says handing part B to Matt.

"You didn't think to bring us one?" Chris say, looking at the water bottle. "It was the last one." He shrugs before kneeling down to help build the crib. "I need C!" Matt repeats. "Oh, here." Nick hands it to him.

"Shit, that was actually a fucking workout." Chris stands wiping the slight sweat from his forehead and places his hands in his hips, looking the rest of the things they had to build. Chris was grateful that Y/n only stuck with three things to be added to the baby's room. She had to consider the fact that they weren't going to live in the apartment for much longer.

She decided for only a crib, a dresser/changing station, and a rocking chair to go in the room. The rest would be little decorations here and there. "Alright, should we do the chair and save the hardest for last? Or the other way around?" Chris said, grabbing the water bottle he filled up using the fridge.

"Let's get the dresser done." Chris grabs the cardboard trash and sets it outside the room to create more space in the small room. "Wait, let me turn the air conditioner lower, it's getting so hot in here." He tugs on his tank top and walks out of the room while Nick gets the dresser box open.

"My eyes are hurting from looking at all these pieces." Matt rubs his temples. "Where are the instructions?" Chris looks through the pile of styrofoam. "Over here." Nick opens the booklet. "So we need to screw this piece to that piece." He points to the pieces close to Matt.

As they continue to build the dresser, they keep up a small conversation. "We're not painting or anything right?" Chris shakes his head. "No, I asked the building manager and he said no. Y/n likes the color of the walls, anyway." He says as he screws the top of the dresser in. "What's she doing today?"

"Not sure, I asked her friends to take her out today but, I don't know what they're doing. Probably shopping." Chris shrugs. "I should've gone with them instead of building with you two." Nick sighs. For the next thirty minutes, they finished up the dresser and Chris built the rocking chair alone, which wasn't too much of a hassle.

"Absolutely, not." Nick says. "What? Why not?" Chris questions. "That lamp is not going on the floor, that's stupid!" Nick goes to grab the lamp from Chris and he then places it on the corner of the dresser. "Look, it's much better here." Nick looks at Chris. Matt laughs by the windows, finishing putting the curtains up. "I'm so glad Y/n had everything picked out and you didn't choose the aesthetic of your baby's nursery. Who knows what you would've chosen."

They finish decorating the room and it's just as Y/n had envisioned it. A couple of weeks ago, both Y/n and Chris were in here and Y/n was pointing out where she wanted everything to go and Chris took note of it. As a thank you to his brothers, Chris orders them lunch before they head out. Halfway through them eating their burgers. Chris gets a text from Y/n's best friend, Pearla.

Are you guys almost done? Y/n looks tired. Chris feels a bit bad, knowing how tired Y/n has been getting lately. We're finishing up our lunch but you guys can start coming back. He quickly types back. "She's on her way." Chris says out loud.

Finishing their food, Matt collects their trash and throws it out. "As much as we want to stay and see her reaction, we need to go home and shower and take a fat nap." Matt stretches, his shirt riding up a bit. "I agree, let me know when she gets home so I can call her." Nick grabs his tote bag off of the chair. "Alright, I'll see you guys in a few days." Chris says goodbye to them as they walk out the door, following behind so he can lock the door. "Bye!" They both say.

Chris quickly hops in the shower so he won't be a sweaty mess when Y/n gets home. From their bedroom, Chris throws his dirty clothes in the hamper and hears the front door opening. "Baby, I'm home." He hears Y/n's voice, followed by the door closing. "Hi, babe." He sees her once he exits the room.

"Missed you today." Chris kisses her and grabs the many bags she is holding. "Missed you more." She ruffles his wet hair. "Have you eaten already?" She asks, taking her purse off. "Yeah, I ate about thirty minutes ago. You? Have you eaten?" He places the bags down on the kitchen island.

"Yes, we went to that one cafe I love." She can drool on the spot just thinking about the croissant sandwich she had earlier. "Love that place. I have a surprise for you." He says as Y/n was grabbing one of the six bags to show him what she had bought. "Do you? My haul can wait, show me!" She says.

"No, no. Let me see what you bought first. I think some things can go with the surprise." He pushes the rest of the bags towards her. "Ugh, okay." She goes through with haul fairly quickly, trying to get the surprise faster.

"Here, let me bring these bags." Chris grabs the four bags that contain baby stuff. "Follow me this way." He nods his head towards the baby nursery. "Okay." Chris lets her go first. "Wait! Close your eyes." They stop in front of the door. "I'm nervous, did you do what I think you did?" She says happily, having an idea of what the surprise might be. "Maybe? Maybe not." He opens the door fully. "Okay, open 'em!" Y/n opens her eyes and gasps, Chris places the bags down near the door.

"Chris! You didn't! It's so pretty!" She squeals, looking around at the finished nursery. "You did all of this?" She turns back, wrapping her arms around his neck and his hands come to her waist. "I had some help from Matt and Nick. You like it?" He mumbles against her lips. "I love it, thank you, baby." She kisses him hard. "I hope you don't mind the things I changed around- well Nick did it." Y/n smiles. "It's perfect. I like the lamp better on the dresser than near the window."

"Oh! That's where you wanted it! I originally had it on the floor, but Nick yelled at me." They both laugh. "Seriously? The floor?" Chris rolls his eyes and tucks his head into her neck. "I know, I know! Sounds bad now that I think about it."

Y/n let's go of Chris and walks around the room. "Can we bring in the baby's clothes?" She asks Chris. "Of course we can. I waited for you so we can do that?" He stands behind her, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "Thank you, we'll just have to wash them before our baby is here." She rubs her belly that was growing everyday.

In their room, they grab all the bags of baby clothes they had bought and bring them to the room. Earlier, the triplets had stored all the boxes of diapers and wipes in the nursery closet. "Look at this one, it's so tiny!" Chris holds up a cream colored onesie. "Why are baby clothes so cute. I can't wait until she's here." Y/n smiles and pecks his lips. "Me either, can't wait for our little vacation though. Enjoy our time together until we're finally parents."

"We still need to pack for that." Y/n was cleared by her OB that she was okay to fly by the time their vacation came around. "I can't wait to go to Italy with you."

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ahsokaismyqueen · 7 months ago

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Saving Steve Pairing - Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Summary - Steve Harrington has already saved your life, so it's time to return the favor. Little did you know that would feel a little less like an action movie and more like taking care of rowdy toddlers. Word Count - 2.1k Warnings - Language, Drugged up Steve and Robin, lots and lots of Dustin Henderson sass. Steve Harrington x HendersonSister!Reader Masterlist

You loved your brother. Really and truly he was one of the best parts of your life. No matter what kind of mood you were in, you could always count on him to cheer you up. As much as you'd deny it to his face, you'd do anything for him, including maiming and murder.

Which was why you were trying your very best not to strangle him right now.

Steve and Robin had been captured. They were being held by Russians, probably being tortured for information, and Dustin was arguing with Erica about being a nerd. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you watched Dustin work on trying to stop the fans, seeming to take his sweet time, and not for the first time, you wished you were as smart as him. Maybe if you had been you would have thought of a way to save everyone. Maybe if you had been your friend wouldn’t have been captured. Maybe if you had been Steve wouldn’t be getting hurt right now.

“You’re making me more nervous.” Dustin said, pulling you out of the spiral of your thoughts.

“Can you not go any faster? We’ve been here for like twenty minutes.” You said, your fingers tapping the handle of your weapon erratically.

“We’ll save your loverboy. Calm down.” Erica said, rolling her eyes.

“Gross!”

“Shut up.” You replied at the same time as Dustin. “I still don’t see what’s taking so long, can’t you just-”

“This is a very complex system! I can’t-”

You had enough. It probably wasn’t your smartest idea, but you shoved his hand out of the way, reached into the box, and yanked out every wire that you could get your hands on. You didn’t care what the consequences were anymore. You had to get to Steve and Robin. Now.

“What the hell!” Dustin yelled.

You shushed him, watching as the fans that had been blocking your path slowed to a stop, and a pleased smile formed on your face. “Well,” you gripped your weapon in your hand once more. “Are you two coming or not?” You asked, not waiting on them to follow you as you started crawling.

After a couple of seconds you heard them start moving behind you, and Erica spoke again. “Your sister’s crazier than you are.”

Dustin groaned. “I know.”

��————

“Okay, remember the plan. You two-”

“Stay out of the way while you save your man. Just go!” Erica said, urging you forward. The three of you had just watched everyone exit the room they were keeping Steve and Robin in after the alarms went off from the hole in their floor you had created.

Steeling yourself, you gripped your weapon tighter, finger on the trigger. You didn’t feel scared though. No, all you felt was determined. Steve had saved your life multiple times. Now it was time to return the favor. You slammed the door open and didn’t think. All you saw was the man in the white coat leaning over the guy you were in love with, and you attacked. You pressed the trigger on your weapon and held it against the man’s chest, thinking of nothing but getting him away from Steve until he crumpled to the floor, either passed out or dead. Taking a moment to catch your breath, you shoved the thought of what you might have just done away. When you turned around to face Steve though, you couldn’t bring yourself to feel any ounce of regret. “Oh, Steve,” you said, taking in his beat up face that was grinning at you.

“Hey! I was just talking about you!” He said, and then let out a sigh. “God you’re pretty.”

Normally a compliment like that, spoken with such sincerity, would have had your heart fluttering, but it was already doing that for a completely different reason as you reached down to untie him while Dustin got to work on Robin. “You guys have to get ready to run, okay?” You said, glancing from him to Robin who seemed to be in much better shape.

“Whatever you say boss lady.” Robin replied, giving you a salute with her now free hand that caused Steve to immediately burst into giggles.

You shared a glance with Dustin at their odd behavior, but he just shrugged. There was no time to try and figure it out anyway. You got the last of Steve’s ropes off and grabbed his hands, pulling him to his feet. Apparently with more force than was necessary, because he stumbled forward, and you caught him around the waist before he could fall. Of course, that brought the two of you chest to chest.

“Hi,” Steve said, looking down at you. The expression on his face was dopey and adoring, like he’d never seen anything better in his life than you right now.

“Umm, hi?” You replied, breathless and confused.

Before you could say anything else, your brother was yelling. “Let’s go!”

Grabbing Steve’s hand, you tugged him out the door and back towards escape. Once everyone had made it to the cart, against your better judgement, you tossed Dustin the keys. “Get us out of here.” You said, ushering Robin and Steve into the back before following them. You didn’t like Dustin driving, but you wanted a better look at Steve’s injuries. “Robin, are you hurt anywhere?” You asked, squeezing in between the two of them and looking her over.

“I’m peachy keen my dear friend. That’s the one with the messed up face.” She fake whispered, pointing at Steve.

Steve looked at you with a slight panic in his eyes. “Is my face fucked up?”

Oh yeah. It was fucked up all right. You had to fight the urge to touch it because Dustin was driving so erratically that you were afraid you’d end up poking him in the eye. Thankfully you were saved from the trouble of responding by Dustin taking such a sharp turn it sent you flying into his lap, your hands grabbing the cage on either side of his head while his wrapped around your waist. “Shit, Dustin!” You yelled.

“Jeez, slow down,” Steve slurred, yet his hands made no effort to let you move.

“Yeah, what is this, the Indy 500?” Robin asked.

“It’s the Indy 300.” Steve corrected, looking at her over your shoulder.

You couldn’t see her, but you assumed Robin was shaking her head. “No, dingus, it’s 500!”

“It’s 300!” Steve insisted.

“Let’s say, a million?” Robin replied, causing the both of them to burst into giggles.

What the actual fuck. Something was seriously wrong with these two. You kept one hand hanging onto the cart while the other cupped the back of Steve’s head, trying to keep his head steady so you could get a good look at his face since it didn’t seem like he was letting you move any time soon.

As soon as you touched Steve’s head, his giggles began to fade, and that doe eyed look came back. “You know I’ve dreamed about you like this.” He said to you.

Your eyes widened at the admission, but you knew that was something you were going to have to unpack later. “Steve-”

“Dustin, watch out!” Erica yelled.

Steve’s arms tightened around you, and your hand tried to protect the back of his head as much as you could as the cart crashed into barrels. The three of you let out almost simultaneous groans as your bodies collided with the back of the cart, and your frown deepened as you noticed Steve wincing. He was clearly in more pain than he was letting on.

“Are you guys okay?” Dustin called from the front.

“I’m never teaching you how to drive.” You grumbled, as Steve finally let you out of his arms.

As soon as Dustin opened the back you held out a hand to both Robin and Steve, pulling them out more gently this time as you urged them both to the elevator.

It took approximately five seconds to get everyone on the elevator, five more for the elevator to get going, and exactly ten before Steve and Robin started using a rolling cart like a surfboard. You just stood between Dustin and Erica looking at them in disbelief. “They seem drunk.” Erica said.

You shook your head. “I don’t think so. What purpose would the Russians have to get them drunk?”

“I’m not drunk! Check it out!” And it was at that moment that Steve flew off the cart and straight into the wall.

“Wipeout!” Robin yelled, as they both dissolved into fits of laughter.

“Sure that’s the guy you’re in love with?” Dustin asked you, his arms crossed over his chest.

You shot your little brother a murderous look and a string of cuss words left your lips as you bent down next to Steve. A thought occurred to you, and you reached up to feel his forehead. “He’s burning up.” You said, even more panic starting to creep into your chest.

“Awww, I think you’re really hot too.” Steve said, booping you on the nose.

Heat flooded your cheeks as Dustin bent down next to you and pulled at the skin around Steve’s eye, ignoring his groans and swats to get him off. “His pupils are super dilated.” He said, glancing at you, then Erica.

“Maybe he’s been drugged?” She suggested.

“Steve have you been drugged?” Dustin asked him.

He let out a sigh. “How many times, dad? I don’t do drugs. It’s only marijuana.” Steve replied with a boop for Dustin’s nose as well.

You reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand trying to get him to focus on you. “Steve, do you have any idea what they gave you? I need you to tell me.”

“You’re not gonna die on us, are you?” Dustin asked.

“Dustin!” You scolded. You didn’t even want to consider that possibility.

“We all die, my strange little child friend.” Robin spoke up. “It’s just a matter of how . . . And when.” She continued, twirling her hair around her fingers as you all stared at her.

“Muah!” The awkward silence was broken by Steve who had just pressed a loud kiss to your hand that was still holding his. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He said, beaming up at you.

“For the love of God-” Dustin grumbled.

You chose to ignore him. “Okay, Steve, I need your car keys. They’re going to be coming for us when we get out of here.”

“Ooh, can we make a stop at the food court?” Steve asked.

“I’d kill for a hot dog on a stick.” Robin said.

You thought it was hard keeping your patience with just Dustin and Erica. This was a whole other level. “We can stop and get whatever you want as soon as you give me your car keys.” You said like you were talking to a child.

Your heart sank as soon as Steve frowned. “Uh oh. The car’s off the board.”

“What?” Dustin said.

“They took the keys. The Russians, they took the keys.” Steve said, pulling out the empty pockets of his uniform. “That’s a bummer right?” He said, and he and Robin started laughing again.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Of course the one day you had taken a bus here. Your mind quickly went through the list of people you should call for help. Hopper was at the top, followed by Joyce, Nancy or Jonathan. Eddie’s name popped up for the briefest moment, but no. You refused to get him involved in any of this mess. “Do you have your walkie on you still?” You asked Dustin.

“Of course.”

“As soon as we get out of here, we’re going to try to find a quiet place and get the others. Hopper, Joyce, Nancy, Jonathan, I don’t care. Just someone with a car. You-” you pointed at Erica. “Are going to look after these two.” You told her, nodding your head in their direction.

She groaned. “Why me?”

“Because I’m the oldest, I’m in charge, and because I said so.” You told her.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

It was at that moment you felt a tug on your hand. You had forgotten Steve was still holding it. “Are you mad at me about the keys?” He said, and you couldn't help but be reminded of a little puppy, looking up at you with the saddest eyes.

Giving him a small smile, you brought his own hand to your lips and kissed it this time. “You just risked your life for mine, and my brothers. I don’t think I can be mad at you for at least a week.”

The kiss to his hand and your words wiped that frown off his face immediately, and he was back to smiling. “You promise?”

You squeezed his hand. “Promise.”

“You two are disgusting.” You heard Erica say.

“Agreed.” Dustin added on.

You just rolled your eyes.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine

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screwitbaby · 1 month ago

Text

cybergirl

hamzahthefantastic x reader (fic)

2.0

summary: you’re a cam girl and you have more power over hamzah’s horny ass than you can even comprehend.

contains: smut with plot ofc

w/c: 2.7k-ish

a/n: yall convinced me. can i even call this a oneshot anymore? anyway enjoy <3

The clock was ticking. Hamzah's eyes couldn't stay in one place. He knew he was obsessed with you—he couldn't even jerk off to random porn anymore, only you could keep him hard—but the extent of his infatuation was starting to take a toll on his daily life. Recording gaming videos and podcasts with Martin felt like such a chore when all he could think about was your plush thighs wrapped around his head or your face pressed into his pillows, ass up.

It was like a parasite had taken over and he was merely a host body for something sinister that was controlling his every move. He wasn't even sure if he hated it. It was one of the only things bringing him unadulterated joy as of recent. His wallet certainly hated him for it, though.

His laptop was already on and set in place. You were about to start your weekly scheduled live broadcast and he was sat in bed, waiting obediently for your arrival. The thought of creepy, old retirees with beer guts and wives also waiting for you made his skin crawl. His brain conjured up torturous scenes of you on call with them, talking to them the same way you spoke to him. Charming them with your promising words and perfect tits. No, he was sure he was special. Right?

He slapped his cheeks lightly, trying to rid the thoughts from poisoning his mind. It didn't matter. He knew what he was getting into the moment he paid for that first private meeting. He just had to suck it up and have you in any way he could.

Your panties were laid out next to him, almost tricking him into believing you were there in the room with him at one point or another. When he came home from the studio a week ago and saw a package with cursive writing and glittery gift wrap sitting at his doorstep, he was tempted to banish Martin from the building as soon as he'd welcomed him. When Martin then asked him what was in the box as he was taking it up to his room, he froze. His lies about it being an eBay order were almost as easy to see as the half-chub rising beneath his sweatpants. Luckily, Mandy called her boyfriend within the hour and he left soon thereafter without bothering to question his best friend's strange behavior.

It was pathetic, the way he locked the door to his room and shut his blinds just to open a parcel. He felt like he was living with his family again, trying to minimize any possible chances that they'd walk in on him with his dick in his hand. But he was completely alone then, and as he carefully tore the wrapping to preserve your penmanship of his name on the shipping label, his heart was beating out of his chest. Swathed in pink tissue paper lay his only worldly evidence that you were real, not just a couple of pixels on his screen.

Your lilac, lacy, worn panties.

For the next few days, Hamzah didn't leave home. He sniffed, he rubbed, he moaned and groaned. And he was loud. Any sense of shame left him as soon as he came the first time. He was sure he'd pass out from the pleasure at some point, but it was like each climax recharged him with the power to go twice as hard. It took a while for him to get himself together. It took no time at all for him to tune in to your show.

So, here he was, anxiously staring at the chat room full of digital degenerates and convincing himself he wasn't cut from the same cloth. He was different. He respected you. He liked you for more than just your perfect tits, peachy ass, lustrous hair, smooth skin, wet pu—

Then, the camera turned on. The chat started going at a hundred miles per hour. The donations began to flow in. And all you had done was smile.

"Hi, everybody," you giggled, eyes scanning the screen as you waved. "Oh, wow! Thank you for all the donations! So eager for me."

Hamzah's heart twinged. He didn't want to be reminded that he wasn't the only one. He made a donation of his own as you began reading them out.

"Thank you for the hundred dollars, SuperSpreader77!" you gasped as the notification sounded. You placed your hand on your chest, drawing Hamzah's eyes to the blood-red, satin brassiere that adorned it. "I'll be sure to make it up to you."

You winked and bit your lip. Hamzah swore he could've melted right there. The damp spot on the front of his boxers stuck out sorely, his cock aching for a release that would certainly make him see stars.

"I missed you all so much." You pouted.

And just like that, his elation was cut short by your acknowledgment of the others.

The live lasted near an hour as you touched yourself and stared into the camera and teased and did all the right things to get Hamzah wrapped even tighter around your finger. Knowing he was there after his donation made you slightly more daring than usual. You spanked yourself with a frilly paddle until your ass was stinging and bruised—a little taste of what was to come. You weren't lying about making it up to him later.

By the end, Hamzah was sure his balls were really going to turn blue. He did touch himself—how could he not?—but he knew nothing would be better than to finish with you, one on one. So he edged closer and closer to the point of no return, denying himself of his orgasm as he rutted into his fist, wishing it was your mouth or your cunt. He watched with impressive self control as you came all over your own fingers, splayed across your mattress like a priceless painting that could only be rightfully witnessed in a museum.

You ended the live by blowing a kiss and Hamzah rushed to open the Zoom app. This time, you joined within a few minutes, still topless but with your thong back on. Hamzah wasn't sure if he was sad to see you covered up or more excited that he'd get to see it get pulled off again.

"Hi, angel," you greeted. Your eyes twinkled, face flushed and lips bitten red from your previous escapade. "I missed you the most."

Hamzah groaned like the words physically wounded him.

"You're driving me insane," he said.

His hand traveled down to his navel, but before he could grab himself, you spoke.

"Ah, ah," you tutted, stopping him in his tracks. "Did you get my little gift?"

"Yes." He nodded keenly, grasping the lace from beside him and running it down his torso until he draped it over his throbbing cock.

"Do I even want to know what you've done with it?" you asked, tilting your head to the side.

"The things I wish I could do to you," Hamzah answered honestly.

He pinched the lace between his fingers and ghosted the cloth across himself, sharply inhaling at the sensation. You bit your lip and Hamzah felt himself twitch. With the way you had soaked through your thong, you wondered if he'd want this pair, too.

"Did you enjoy my show?" you asked despite knowing the answer. "Enjoy yourself?"

"I waited for you," Hamzah said. "I wanted you. Alone."

"Are you hurting? Aching for me?"

"I want you so bad. You have no idea."

"I don't?"

Hamzah shook his head.

"Show me. Show me how you used those panties."

He immediately obliged. He began by gripping his shaft, spreading the precum from his tip downward. He moved your panties to encircle his cock, dragging against his balls deliciously as he pumped himself. His head fell back, already so close that he could feel his heartbeat drumming in his ears. You watched him hungrily.

"Gonna cum already?" You licked your lips, leaving them glossy. "Let me hear you, angel."

A loud moan tumbled from his lips, a sense of abandon washing through him as he pleasured himself in front of you. You observed the way the vein in his neck popped similarly to the ones on his cock and imagined how they'd taste, how they'd feel against your tongue. You began touching yourself, swirling your fingers around your swollen clit.

"I-I can't hold—c-can I?" he stuttered out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do it, Hamzah. Ruin my panties."

You lay flat on your back, neck craned to watch the screen as his movements grew fervent. You tried to match his pace, tried to fuck your fingers into your pussy as he bucked his hips, tried to picture it was him inside of you. He spilled into his hand, shouting your name over and over until his voice grew scratchy and he had released every last drop all over himself and the fabric. He hadn't even opened his eyes before he was hard again. You were the only Viagra he'd ever need.

"Wanna see you," he panted, attempting in vain to catch his breath.

He ran his thumb over his tip and shivered. You leapt from bed to pull your thong off and tossed it towards the camera playfully. When you bent over your desk, his eyes widened. The marks on your ass were red and angry, slightly raised in the shape of the paddle. He didn't know he had it in him, but he genuinely growled.

"Fuck me..." He gripped himself tighter, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head from how sensitive he was.

You reached into one of the drawers and slowly pulled a toy out from the back. Hamzah was pleased to see the dildo was of similar size to him. You knew it would never compare to the real thing, but it'd have to do. You spat onto it, slapping it against your sore ass a couple times and jumping at the sting. Hamzah fell into a trance, unable to do anything but moan as he watched you run the head against your dripping folds before pressing in.

You gasped, keeling over the desk as your wetness enveloped the entirety of the silicone. The feeling of every inch stretching you had you clamping around it as your body adjusted to the intrusion. You drew it out until just the tip was still inside. Then, all at once, you drove it back in with a cry.

"Hamzah!" you whimpered, head lolling to the side. "I-I'm—"

"You're doing so good, baby." He wrapped your panties around the base of his cock, intensifying his satisfaction as the fabric cinched around him. "Fuck yourself. Hard."

His hoarse voice combined with the pleasure passing through you made your legs shake. You could barely even hold yourself up. Your chest pressed against the cold wood and your nipples grazed the surface, rendering you speechless. Hamzah watched as you flicked your wrist as fast as you could and the dildo disappeared into you. You were in the clouds, gripping the edge of the desk with your other hand until your knuckles turned white.

"Shit, s-so fuckin’ pretty," Hamzah groaned.

You couldn't even see straight anymore, but you knew him well enough to know he was closing in on his second orgasm of the night. The carnal sounds of the both of you reverberated through your rooms, a mess of moans and wet slapping. When you screwed your eyes shut tight enough, it was almost as if you were there together.

"Cum f'me, baby," Hamzah grunted out, "only me."

"Only you, angel," you whined, your mouth staying ajar as you felt your stomach clenching and your toes curling.

Broken moans toppled from your lips. Any words said were inaudible, a jumble of sweet nothings as the two of you came in unison. Your wrist was cramping and you could feel your arousal making a mess all over your legs, but you couldn't bare to stop your movements. Pure bliss coursed through your veins and Hamzah strained to watch the way your orgasm turned your body into a shaking heap atop your desk. He came so hard his vision blacked out for a moment and he huffed heavy breaths until his body was no longer tensed from head to toe.

You eventually released the dildo from your grasp and let it fall to the floor, tracing your fingers over your wetness then to your clit. Even a faint touch sent a shock through you. You giggled but it came out as a shaky sigh.

"God, baby," Hamzah murmured, unraveling your panties from his dick and sitting up to pull his laptop closer. "You okay?"

"Hmm," you hummed in your state of euphoria. You attempted to stand straight but to no avail, gripping the sides of the desk as you nearly toppled over with another giggle. "'M fine."

"Fuck," Hamzah laughed quietly, feeling the effects of his own exhaustion. "That good?"

"Mhm," you moaned, nodding.

When you turned, you wobbled on your feet for a couple steps before falling to your knees in front of the bed. You brought your laptop to the edge and smiled, wiping a tear from your eye.

"So good."

Hamzah grinned, leaning against the wall as his breathing slowly returned to a normal pace. He was sticky and slightly sore, but he couldn't even begin to imagine what you were feeling in that moment.

"How do you do this for work?" he said, bemused. "I'm destroyed."

He reached up to run his fingers through his curls, but decided against it once he felt the moisture coated between them.

"I was thinking of you during the live."

You crossed your arms on the bed, resting your cheek on your forearm as you stared at his figure through the screen. He opened his mouth and closed it a couple times, failing to find his words. You giggled again, completely spent.

"Why are you so far?"

He knew there was no real answer to his question, but he couldn't help but wonder out loud. How was it that the girl of his dreams was so out of his reach? Did he do something in a past life to deserve this fate? The longer he thought about it, the worse he felt.

"Maybe it's for the best," you offered, eyes closed. "Maybe you'd get sick of me IRL."

He contemplated the sentiment for a moment. No, there's no way. He could never get sick of your sweet voice; surely it'd be impossible.

"First of all, 'IRL'? Really?" he teased. "And who knows. Maybe I could fly you out."

"Don't be silly," you yawned, sitting back on your haunches to stretch.

"Fine," he said, rolling his eyes. "I already paid for your panties. What makes you think I wouldn't pay for the ticket to get the rest of you here?"

"Ridiculous."

You just couldn't make sense of it. A boy flying you out while knowing close to nothing about you. Sure, you made each other feel good, but there's a big difference between seeing someone for an hour or two weekly and seeing them everyday with no where else to go. Such an absolute scared you. Besides, a girl like you would never dare to have such big dreams of a fairytale ending.

"My offer still stands." Hamzah crossed his arms.

"What is it with you and your offers?"

"Never hurt before."

He grabbed the panties from beside him and held it up to the camera like it was evidence of his claim. The two of you laughed at the white stains that now adorned it.

"You're disgusting."

"You love it."

You shook your head, not even refuting his words. You couldn't ignore the jolt that surged through your heart.

"Really, you should consider it," he said with a shrug.

"No promises," you said. "Goodnight, angel."

You subsequently signed off, leaving Hamzah with a longing in his chest that kept him up that night and invaded his dreams when he managed to drift off in the early hours of the morning.

a/n: if u ask for part 3 i may just scream. idk i kinda like having them yearn for each other. thoughts? feelings? concerns? hate? leave it in the replies!

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah fic #hamzah x reader #slushy virus #hamzahsmut #hamzah fluff #hamzah imagines #hamzah x y/n #martin and hamzah #hamzahthefanatasticxreader #hamzah angst

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peachdues · 8 months ago

Text

GASOLINE ON FIRE

COMPASS ONE-SHOT • bad boy!Sanemi x Reader

A/N: a one-shot from my bad boy!Sanemi gang AU fic, Compass featuring Sanemi and Reader’s first kiss. It technically happened off-page in the first Chapter, so I thought I’d share it with you all now because I’m such a sap for these two.

CW: 1.7k • MDNI • mentions of explicit sexual content • mentions of masturbation • Sanemi’s been thinking about Reader in fun ways • first kiss • fluff/light angst

READ COMPASS HERE

You’re both seated on your floor, pizza box sitting in front of you, half-empty, alongside a couple of empty, discarded beer bottles.

“I’ve never had sex,” you blurt, prompting Sanemi to choke on his gulp of beer.

“What?”

You pause in bringing your own bottle to your lips to glare at him. “You don’t have to be rude about it.”

“I’m not,” Sanemi wipes his lips. “Who gives a shit about that — I mean, where did that come from?”

You take a long, pointed sip of your beer before setting it back down, drawing your knees up to your chest. “I don’t know,” you shrug. “Isn’t it weird that I haven’t? We’re both twenty-one — but I’ve never even had a serious relationship, much less had sex.”

That surprises him. He’d thought about your days in school more than he’d be willing to admit ever since he chose your bookstore to hide in all those months ago. He’s devoted countless hours to wracking his brain, trying to recall every minute detail about you, in a concerted effort to figure out why the fuck he didn’t approach you sooner.

But he’d found that he couldn’t quite recall, and maybe that’s because he never had an excuse.

Still, you seem like you should have had at least the opportunity for love. After all, Sanemi can’t imagine someone worthier of it.

You’re staring at him, now, expectant, and Sanemi distracts himself by reaching for his own beer bottle to inspect it. “’S not weird,” he says after a moment. “You’re young. You’ve barely been out in the world.”

“But you‘ve done it,” you push, taking another swig of your drink.

Sanemi nods with a chuckle, setting his now-empty bottle down. “Yeah, yeah I have.”

You refuse to meet his eyes as you mumble, “And you like doing it.”

“Is that what the rumors say?” He asks drily, concealing his faint grimace by reaching for another beer.

“I don’t care about the rumors. I’m trying to make a point, here,” you scowl, finally lifting your gaze back to him. “I want to do it. I don’t want to be a virgin anymore.”

He glances at you from the corner of his eye. “Noted.”

“I want you to fix it.”

His hand halts midair before it can reach the last unopened bottle, and he turns to stare dumbly at you.

You must be joking — or you’re drunk. In either event, there’s no fucking way you’re serious.

He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it — extensively, for that matter. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want it just as badly as you seem to — arguably, even more so, given that he can’t stop thinking about it.

He wouldn’t be caught dead admitting that he thinks of you that way often — so much so that he hasn’t been able to get laid in at least two months, because he couldn’t stop picturing you when he was with his designated fling of the evening.

Hell, he’d only been able to get off that last time because he stopped fighting the images in his head. Ones that involved that flirty sundress you loved wearing pulled down to expose your breasts, bouncing as you rode him, or the blush on your cheeks he imagined would form when he settled between your thighs, mouth lowering to steal a taste of what he could only assume was paradise.

Since then, the only thing Sanemi has been fucking is his own hand. And damn, if those little images of you didn’t keep sneaking into his subconscious. And though he always managed to cum fast and hard whenever those fantasies bled into his mind, Sanemi also was left to feel nothing but shame afterward as he wiped his hand and abdomen clean, guilt hanging heavily over his head for thinking of you in such a way.

For daring to think you might want him at all.

But now, here you were, looking at him with all the hopeful expectancy in the world. As though he has anything worth offering you.

Sure, Sanemi knew you were likely asking him to do it for practicality’s sake. You were a virgin and you wanted not to be anymore. And he was there, your only friend, and he was someone known for being rather unrestrained when it came to matters of the bedroom (or, anywhere that offered semi-privacy, for that matter).

He was a convenience; nothing more.

Did that stop him from considering it? Of course not. He was yours to use as much as you wanted, as far as he was concerned. But he’d assumed his usefulness stopped at being an ear to listen to; a companion — not because of anything you did, but because Sanemi had never felt like he held much value outside of what he could do for others.

And really, being used for this purpose — by you, no less — wasn’t too bad of an idea, all things considered.

But he can’t; he won’t. Part of him wants you to save that piece of yourself for someone who deserves it; deserves you. And that sure as shit isn’t him.

Part of him is also acutely aware that you’re tipsy and thus, the boundaries of your consent are blurry, and Sanemi would rather eat and shit glass than dilute them further.

But another part of him hesitates because he knows that if he does give in — gives you what you both want — that he’ll only further distort what remains of the lines he’s drawn in the sand. Lines, he sternly reminds himself, that are not just his means of protecting you, but rules that he is bound to obey as an extension of the Corps.

Don’t get attached.

And yet, he can’t help but wonder; can’t stop his traitorous heart from swelling, or his mind from running with the faint possibility of what life might be like if he just said yes.

What would it be like to be close to you? To hold you, kiss you, whisper sweet nothings in your ear he’d never told anyone else, but had secretly always longed to share? Would you moan or sigh his name? And if he was graced with the chance to see you fall apart — how would you look? Would you cry out, or would your mouth fall open in a silent o, your pleasure so intense that it stole the very breath from your lungs?

Never mind wanting and being wanted in return — what would it be like to have?

You rest your chin on your arms, eyes fixed on him, waiting, and Sanemi feels himself nearly break right there.

It’s nearly impossible to turn you down in a way that won’t hurt your feelings, but he has to. He has no choice.

He never has.

“Sorry, Princess. Don’t think that’s the best idea.” He reaches over to flick your nose before adding, “Plus, you’re a bit too tipsy.”

He hopes that his disappointment isn’t too evident on his face as he watches you; hopes that you cannot see the way his heart cracks under his own self restraint.

Thankfully, you drop your head onto your arms with a groan, concealing your face in your alcohol-tinged shame.

To his dismay, your obvious letdown punches at that soft part of his heart he’s reserved for you. His mouth goes dry. The idea blooms in his head and he’s acting before he can stop himself.

Just a taste. He swears. Just a taste. A little indulgence, so you know his reticence has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the fact that he isn’t worth it.

“Hey.”

You roll your head to the side to peer shyly at him, a pretty blush still staining your cheeks.

“Come here.”

You lift your head from your arms then, cocking it in a question that Sanemi decides to answer by crooking his fingers under your chin and leaning in.

The kiss he shares with you is soft; measured. Your lips feel like silk against his, and it strikes him that never before has he kissed anyone with so much tenderness. The few kisses he exchanged with his flavors of the night were always sharp, bruising clashes of lips and teeth, each party more focused on sating their own needs rather than tending to that of the other.

Then again, Sanemi never felt this way toward those serving as his temporary distractions. He never thought of them as something precious; something to be adored, the way he does you.

You don’t move your arms from where they’re folded atop your knees, and for that, Sanemi is grateful. He knows that were you to move your hands to cup his face or even tangle in his hair, he would lose whatever thread of self control he possessed when it came to you.

So, Sanemi continues to kiss you slowly; indulgently. He never lets himself deepen it, never lets his tongue flick out along the seam of your lips in an effort to part them. He simply moves his lips with yours for a moment longer before he finally pulls away, though his fingers linger under your chin.

Only centimeters separate your mouth from his, and Sanemi can feel the sweet warmth of your breath as he whispers, “We should pick out a movie.”

You nod after a moment, still too stooped in the haze of his closeness to you. Reluctantly, Sanemi shifts away, his hand dropping from your chin. You don’t see how he flexes it over and over when you turn away to fidget with your remote, Sanemi unable to shake off the memory of your skin under his fingertips.

He watches the movie without really seeing it; his mind is far too preoccupied with replaying your kiss, over and over on a constant, never-ending loop.

He’d hoped that the small kiss would smother some of the fire that has been steadily consuming him over the last few months. A temporary respite to the near constant pang of longing he felt in his chest every time he looked at you.

What a stupid fucking idea that had been.

Because, as Sanemi sits beside you, limbs rigid under the incessant buzz thrumming in his veins, urging him to reach over and lay you back against the rug and make you his, he realizes your kiss was only a gallon of gasoline dumped directly over his fire.

And, judging by the way you keep your eyes fixed resolutely on the screen before you despite the persistent heat in your cheeks, Sanemi thinks you might be just as hungry for him as he is for you.

Oh, he’s fucked.

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