#coffee and pancakes series

[harrysmimi]

Gotchu!

Coffee And Pancakes series P13

Synopsis: YN pranks Harry after he's returned home from the gym

Idea courtesy to @vrittivsanghavi

Series Masterlist | More of my work

It was a day off for YN, so she decided to spend it at home.

She has been making a crochet bag for her mother-in-law for her birthday which was coming up soon. She cosied up on the sofa with a cup of tea with a rerun of her favourite show on, taking in some alone time. She had dropped off Milo to the vet for his checkup, surgery and vaccine updates this morning, he's due pick up in the evening. And she went grocery shopping for few things she needs to try out this new baking recipe.

Though Harry will be home soon, he had to rush to a quick meeting and then he went to the gym for a little. He came home way too soon.

YN heard the door open and close as Harry walked in dressed in his workout clothes and cup of coffee in his hand. His tote bag hung over his shoulder.

"Hey baby." He smiled at her, "I'm just gonna go take a shower real quick and be with you, yeah?"

"Hi, yes of course." YN nodded, and sat there starting on her new project.

Anne loved one of YN's bag she made and wore on one of their girls day out, since then YN's been wanting to make one for her. Her birthday was coming up so it was the best occasion to take advantage of. Gift giving is really nit her thing, so this was a golden opportunity for her there.

Harry's been jealous. He wants one too but he steals her bag everytime so he doesn't really know how to ask for one. He felt stupid. But at the same time it warmed his heart to see how the women who raised him get along so well with the woman he fell in love with.

He's honestly got to up his game of birthday presents for his mum after this. It's always been his forte, but a handmade gift has special value to it to everyone.

YN had been asking him what colour he thinks his mum would like the bag to be. It was a tricky choice to make without letting Anne can not know about this. It is a surprise.

"It's coming along right?" Harry asked he sat next to her, freshly showered and shirtless with droplets of water still shining on his shoulders and chest. YN rught away snuggled to his side.

"This is the last square for the bag." She said as she continued to crochet.

"That colour looks very pretty by the way." He added.

"Yeah? I'm making you one too." She beamed at him in excitement, "you can take this one and I'll give Mummy Anne the other one."

"Oh, thank you love." He chuckled watching her go back to do her thing, "I've been wanting to ask you to make ine for me, but didn't wanted to bother you."

"Please, you're never a bother to me." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah--" Harry realised something, "baby, where's Milo? He's usually attacking my feet by now." Harry asked looking around.

YN was too busy counting up the stitches on the crochet piece, or was she? Actually she was cooking a plan to prank him in that moment. She's the bored okay!

"He's in the Man Cave you built you or he must asleep in some nook." She shrugged, which had Harry immediately jumping up to go look for their fur baby.

"Did he eat McFish--" he checked the aquarium but the fish was the swimming around with the secure lid still on. "No, baby, did he fell into toilet bowl again?"

"You just came from the bathroom, didn't you see?" YN called from him as he frantically ran to their only bathroom to check.

Milo was just learning to adjust to the closed litter box, which was kept in the bathroom obviously and being the cat he is, he jumped on the box and accidentally falling into the toilet bowl. It was his fault that he didn't closed the lid.

YN had to bathe him twice after that, because well he doesn't let Harry give him the baths. Yeah, he's that spoilt. But Harry still loves him, he's just grown to bond with Milo. Even though the kitten always tries to trip and make him fall the best he could, or when he just attacks his dad's toes for no apparent reason. No, no, he doesn't do that to his mum, he's in fact very cuddly and sweet with her. Well, occasionally the cat likes to cuddle with Harry but that's very rare. That doesn't change the fact he loves that cat to bits.

"He's not there." He announced, "baby can you please put that down? We can find the cat!"

"Check in his man cave, dude!" She tried to break out laughing the best she could, acting nonchalant as Milo does like to be on his own sometimes.

Harry walked upto the little-- well it's not very little box fixed seven feet above the ground for Milo to sit in and rule over his kingdom along with wooden steps and comfiest bedding inside. The cat even sleeps in it at night. Harry had it custom made for just him, with facy ass design and his name plate on the front. Harry called it: Milo's Man Cave.

News flash, Milo isn't in his man cave.

"We have the balcony all netted and shit, where is he?" Harry was stressing out now. "Did you leave the door open by any chance?"

"Uhhh, no..." YN tried to act like she is not very sure and surprisingly it worked.

"Baby, no don't fuck with me like that!" Harry gasped as he ran into the bedroom to grab a shirt. He was soon heading out the door to check but YN's phone started ringing so he stopped thinking someone might have found him. He's microchipped, and got a collar with his name YN's number on it (not his for his privacy and as a prevention from getting his number leaks). He was teary eyed by now.

"Hello Ms. YLN, this is Amy from Medivet. How are you doing today?" The girl on the line spoke.

Now YN doesn't have her phone on speaker but Harry could hear the girl speaking through. It was Milo's vet. But he's still anxious.

"Hello, I'm good, thanks and you?" YN said politely.

"I'm doing fine. I've called you to let you that Milo is ready to be taken home, so you can come pick him up." The girl sounded very upbeat.

Harry immediately pulled out his phone to check, it was Milo's appointment day and his turn to tak him there. Fuck did she just pranked him?

"Yeah, I'll come pick him up in fifteen. Thank you, Amy." YN spoke before the girl was bidding her bye and hanging up.

"That was not good." He sniffled as he went on to grab his car keys with a puppy face on.

"Harry, I'm sorry!" She cooed rushing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Got anxious!" He sighed, "he's just too little."

"I know, I'm sorry, don't cry please." She tried to hug him.

"God my heart in beating fast," he sat down on the dining table chair.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was just trying to prank you." She felt embarassing now as she now hugged him. With her hand rested on his chest she could really feel how fast his heart was beating then which made her feel even more mad and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Hazza."

"Just don't." He gently pushed her away. "This isn't funny, YN."

"I'm sorry." She repeated herself, now with her own eyes getting teary and a puppy face on she stood there in the corner.

Now, Harry doesn't usually get upset. He's just that caring and understanding but when he rarely does, he gets really badly upset. This seemed to be one of those rare times and he used her first name in ages. She just grabbed her car keys and slipped on her slippers to go pick up the baby.

"Hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding!" He rushed to pull her back giggling, "gotchu!"

"God you little shit, can't just turn this around on me!" She whined now crying like a baby in defeat.

"Don't you cry now." He wiped off her tears, "not going to lie, you did get me until I heard Medivet. Got you back though." He seemed proud of himself as he tightly hugged her.

"No, go away!" She tried to push him off but he barely budged.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"No, move, I have to pick him up." She now managed to pull away.

"Hey come on, this is not fair!" He whined, "well... Baby I'm sorry." He grabbed her face cooing as he placed sloppy wet kisses in her cheek and mouth. It took him a second to realise that. "You sit and relax, I will make the trip to get him."

"Okay." She nodded.

"Am I forgiven?" He asked, to double check.

"Am I?" She countered.

"Of course you are, my darling." He placed another kiss on her mouth and got one right back.

"You are too then." She finally smiled.

"Okay, bet back in thirty, yeah?" He placed a few more kisses on her face.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"I love you!" And she recieved another kiss.

"I love you too!" She reciprocated, "now go bring our son home."

"Yes, yes." He quickly put his shoes on before he was headed out, "oh, keys!"

"Here." She handed him her car key as she was holding it, with that he was heading out again.

......................................................................

N O T E :

This is not how I intended it to go but dayummmm this is hilarious!!!!!! *cries"

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[moviesstoriesandbooks]

What if Chay moves on from Kim and starts bringing over people from clubs and college parties to the minor family house ? He picks them carefully , he now knows how to , they're usually vaguely aware of who he is. They also know enough to not question the security surrounding him and his "house". He's learnt to protect himself from people who get close only with their selfish ulterior motives.

He's only young and in college once. He's gonna enjoy it goddamnit.

Except once when Kim comes over to the minor fam house at Kinn's request for "personally verifying the money leaks Porsche found out and see if he could update the security in any way possible while he's at it " , and he runs a *bit* late . Kim gracefully accepts Porsche's invitation to "crash opposite to Chay's room , that's where his friends stay over sometimes . Chay's my brother by the way, have you guys met?😄".

And Kim has to listen to Porchay and some ba**ard loudly make their way to Porchay's suite in what was so late at night that it was early in the morning , even by Kim's standards.

Pants , purrs . *Moans.* F#cking moans.

And thuds of flesh on the wall when they got too excited and tripped on the carpet. Laughs and giggles. Not a care as to who might hear.

Kim thought it would end once they got in the suite . Well he was wrong. He had to listen to every single whimper, shout and cry ; and finally understood why the maid explained how Khun Porchay prefers the entire floor to himself for his music usually .

He couldn't sleep even after it got fully quiet . He couldn't sleep for a long time after .

[whytheylosttheirminds]

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 2

(Rafe Cameron x Reader series, 4.9k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

After weeks of all-nighters and cramming for finals, sleeping in on your first morning at the beach house felt incredible. It was only 9:30 when you finally stirred in the comfy bed, but it felt late in the day.

Coming down the stairs in your pjs and slippers, you smiled at the sound of your sister’s voice, joking around with her old friends. Your goal this trip was for her to have a good time, and despite the emotional rollercoaster of seeing Rafe yesterday, at this moment, you were glad you decided to stay. You entered the room to see half the house was awake, though neither Rafe or Tom had made an appearance yet.

“Ladies and gentleman, it’s Kerri Walsh Jennings!” Topper deepened his voice like a sports announcer when you entered the kitchen. The few people who were up all turned to you, playfully bowing and applauding like you were a true Olympian. You grinned and rolled your eyes, surprised at how comfortable you felt with the unprecedented attention.

Topper was at the stove flipping pancakes for everyone’s breakfast, wearing an apron that said “kiss the cook.” As you approached the kitchen island to grab a stool next to your sister, he leaned over, holding the spatula like a microphone.

“So tell us, Kerri, now that you’ve won the gold what will you do next?”

“Well, Top,” you played along. “First, I’m going to get some coffee…then I’m going straight to Disneyland!”

Everyone in the kitchen laughed, making the tips of your ears turn red. No one ever laughed at your jokes in high school, not that you were confident enough to make many. Rafe would tell you sometimes that you were funny, so long as no one was around to hear him admit it.

“Well I can help you with the first part,” Topper said, grabbing a mug and the coffee pot.

“Wow, so domestic of you, Topper,” you teased as he poured your steaming coffee in front of you.

“He’s our house mother,” Carter said, smiling wide at Topper who did a jokey little curtsy motion. Clearly this was a running joke between them.

Topper handed you a plate of pancakes, which Kelce promptly reached over your shoulder to steal. 

“Since when are you such an athlete?” Kelce asked, his mouth already full with your breakfast.

You told them all about your team at school, surprised out of your mind that everyone was actually listening intently.

Rafe woke up groggy and sore, ducking his head as he walked through the basement and made his way up the rickety steps. As he reached for the handle of the door which opened into the kitchen, he smiled at the sound of your voice on the other side. His smile quickly faded when he heard Kelce interrupt you with, “Yeah and you kicked Rafe’s ass, too, made him your bitch.”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” 

Every head in the kitchen whipped towards the sound of Rafe’s voice as he emerged, except for yours. You shuffled slightly on your stool and sipped your coffee. Rafe didn’t miss the way you were ignoring him, his eyes grazing quickly over the smoothe skin of your shoulders before redirecting to anything he could find. 

“Cute apron, Top,” he landed on.

“Thanks man,” Topper said, ignoring his mocking tone. “Want some flapjacks?”

“Ew, who calls them flapjacks?” Carter burst out laughing. 

“Well now you don’t get any,” Topper scolded, pulling her plate away from her and handing it to Rafe.

“I don’t want ‘em if Carter’s put her mouth near them,” Rafe mocked. “We don’t know where she’s been.”

“Says the guy who licked the gym floor in seventh grade,” you said quietly.

The entire room came to a halt, everyone surprised at the sound of you joining in on the teasing. No one had actually heard you address Rafe yet. The awkwardness hung in the air, all eyes going wide as they waited to see if the notorious hothead was going to be able to take what he was dishing out. You just picked at your pancakes with your fork and hoped everyone would move on, but Rafe smirked at you, a playful twinkle in his eye.

“That was on a dare,” he defended himself.

When you finally looked up at him, your stomach twisted into a knot as you noticed how cute he looked in his white undershirt and grey sweats, messy bedhead and sleepy eyes. You immediately regretted acknowledging that you remembered something he did so long ago. Now, he was looking at you with something like excitement, smug that you were talking to him, like your big triumph the day before had never happened. 

“Oh, I didn’t remember that part.” It was a lie, you remembered everything he ever said or did.

Rafe’s face dropped at your impassive tone, his brief window of hope that all was forgiven slammed shut.

To your great relief, Tom chose that moment to enter the room, drawing the attention away from you and Rafe. He had apparently been out on a run, and his under armor shirt, wet with sweat, clinged to his form to reveal a sculpted chest below.

“How we doin’ everyone?” His cheery voice boomed. He slapped Topper on the back before giving Kelce a frat bro handshake across the counter. “What do we have here?” He whistled appreciatively at the spread Topper had put out.

As Topper rattled on about the many flavors and shapes of pancakes he could offer, Tom looked over at you with a cheeky smile and mouthed “good morning!” You smiled back with a little wave, butterflies erupting in your stomach at the way he was singling you out. 

After the volleyball game last night, you’d all gone to a seafood restaurant on the water. Tom had chosen the seat next to you, and made extremely pleasant dinner company. He asked you all about yourself, about school and what you were planning for the future. He was a great listener, and you were so glad to have someone to chat normally with without the baggage of your childhood hanging over your head. You hoped the week would hold many more cozy conversations with him.

Unbeknownst to you, Carter was watching as you smiled at him in the kitchen, and so was Rafe. They had very different looks on their face as they realized at the same moment that something was happening between you and Tom.

After Topper and Kelce reclaimed Tom’s attention, talking over each other about their plans to go fishing later, Carter squeezed your elbow and motioned with a nod for you to follow her out onto the patio. 

“Ummm, okay, what was that?” Carter asked with arched eyebrows once you were settled on the patio couch next to her.

“Oh my god I know. I shouldn’t have said anything, do you think everyone will think it’s weird I remember something he did in seventh grade?” You asked worriedly.

Carter scrunched her brows in confusion for a minute before waving you off with her hand. “Oh, no not Rafe, he’s old news. I’m talking about your little moment with Tom!”

“Oh, uh,” you cleared your throat, embarrassed that you were still lingering on Rafe when she clearly wasn’t. “I don’t know, he’s nice.”

“He’s fucking gorgeous is what he is,” she fanned herself theatrically.

“Are you into him?” Your stomach dropped at the thought that she might be interested. In your eyes, Carter always had first pick, and surely if Tom thought she was interested he’d choose her over you in a heartbeat.

“No,” she shook her head. “I’m having too much fun messing with Topper.”

You laughed hard at that, “yeah, I noticed. Are you two back on again?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You think if I play my cards right I could get him to propose?”

“I think you could probably get him to do just about anything,” you chuckled.

“Okay, then it’s settled, I’ve got Topper and you,” she poked at your side and you swatted her hand away, “will make a move on Tom.”

“I don’t know about ‘make a move,” you took a long sip of your coffee, suddenly anxious.

Carter eyed you curiously, recognizing the insecurity she hoped you had left behind now that things were going so well. She didn’t understand how you still couldn’t see how amazing you are, but she was determined to prove it to you by the end of this trip.

Rafe did his best not to stare at you through the sliding door, but when he heard your melodic laugh float in through the screen, he couldn’t help the way his head snapped toward the sound, wishing desperately that it was him making you laugh like that. You used to laugh at all his jokes, and he’d taken it for granted. The sad thing was, he actually loved hanging out with you. You had a great sense of humor, and he always felt so comfortable when it was just you and him. He knows now he should’ve just called it what it was, been with you in public too. But he had so many eyes on him back then, and he was worried what people would think. Plus, he knew you’d stick by him even if he treated you like shit, and he took advantage of that. He kicked himself mentally, feeling like a Grade A chump while you sat there, looking beautiful in the ocean breeze, smiling through the window at some guy you’d met yesterday.

As he lost himself in his thoughts, Topper noticed him staring at you, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips.

“She looks good, huh?” He asked Rafe.

“What?” Rafe shook his head as if he could erase the thoughts that were plaguing him. “Who?”

“Oh, come on,” Topper nodded towards you and Carter on the deck.

“I dunno,” Rafe tried to play it off. “She looks the same I guess, a little different.”

“Bro,” Topper gave him an incredulous look. “She’s a fucking smokeshow. You’re into her, don’t even try and fool me.”

“If you're so into her, why don’t you go for her?” Rafe snapped at him.

Topper shook his head, “maybe because I’m not the one she was obsessed with for a decade.”

“She wasn’t obsessed with me,” Rafe protested. “We were friends.”

“Right,” Topper said sarcastically. “And I was a number one draft pick. Dude, she was in love with you, everyone knew it.”

Rafe leaned forward on the counter, propped on his elbows, looking down at his uneaten pancakes with a frown. His stomach twisted with guilt. Of course everyone knew, he knew it too. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t use your adoration of him to his advantage from time to time. Okay, all the time. He couldn’t really blame you for still being mad at him, he was a dick. But he liked to think he’d grown some since then, not that you had any reason to give him a chance to prove it.

“I think she’s into your buddy, Dom, or whatever his name is,” Rafe grumbled.

“First of all,” Topper pointed the spatula at him, “you know his name is Tom. And second of all, I love the guy, but he’s got nothing on you. Give me one day, she’ll be back.”

“Don’t do anything weird, man,” Rafe warned, cringing at the thought of what kind of damage an unsupervised Topper could inflict.

“Don’t worry dude, I got it handled,” Topper assured him.

Rafe just chuckled and sipped his coffee, knowing this was a losing battle, “whatever you say, Top.”

The door slid open and you and Carter reentered the kitchen. Tom stood from his place at the little breakfast nook when you walked in, and you were relieved that he ended his conversation with Maddie and Sabrina so abruptly at the sight of you. He smiled down at you before heading into the kitchen to help Topper clean up. Rafe was noticeably not helping, sitting at the counter scrolling on his phone.

“No phones,” Carter said, swiping it from him. 

“Give it,” he held his large hand out to her, jaw ticking with annoyance.

“C’mon Rafe, don’t you want to live in the present?” She badgered.

He tried to grab it quickly, but she lifted it above her head, tossing it to Kelce on the other side of the counter, who tossed it to Topper, and the game of hot potato continued, much to Rafe’s chagrin.

“Y’all are children,” he scowled, sitting back on the stool in defeat.

“Who are you even texting? All your friends are here,” Carter jeered.

“I was looking up directions to the grocery store, seeing as there’s no fucking food in this house besides beer, and apparently pancake mix,” Rafe explained.

“No need,” Topper said. “Tom, Kelce and I are spending the day on the water and we’ll grab some stuff on the way back.”

Carter frowned at the thought of both of your boys being gone the whole day, leaving little to distract you from Rafe. This wouldn’t do.

“No, you can’t go out today, we're having a cookout!” She announced to the room.

“We are?” Kelce scratched his head.

“Yes, we are,” Carter nodded confidently, wrapping her arm around Topper’s waist, which you knew was all it would take to get him to agree. “And mom here is going to grill for us.”

“Oh am I?” Topper asked, eyebrows raised in amusement, not exactly protesting.

“Yes, so someone else will need to go get the food,” Carter continued. You knew her well enough to see that a whole plan was unfolding in her head. “Sissy, why don’t you go?”

“That’s…fine,” you agreed reluctantly, narrowing your eyes at her, trying to figure out her play. “I need someone to go with me though, we’ll need a lot of stuff.”

Carter and Topper smiled in sync, both thinking they’d just come up with the best idea anyone has ever had.

At the same moment that Carter blurted out, “Tom can go with you!” Topper loudly suggested, “Rafe can take you!”

Your lips forming a tight line, you gave them both an exasperated look. Their heads snapped toward each other, eyeing each other suspiciously. Rafe scratched the back of his neck, annoyed at Topper for butting in and hating himself for hoping you’d choose to go with him and not Tom.

Tom, meanwhile, was watching all four of you from the corner of the room, never more confused in his life.

“It’s cool,” he said hesitantly, the awkwardness palpable. “All three of us can go.”

“Fine, but I’m driving,” Rafe stood from his seat. “Can I have my phone back now please?”

He reached his hand to Kelce, who was the last to have it. Kelce panicked, wanting to keep the game going, and tossed it to you. You very nearly dropped it, letting it bounce between your hands but eventually securing it before it fell.

You just looked at it in your hands, then up to Rafe and Tom, searching for any way out of what was sure to be an uncomfortable outing without being rude. You came up with nothing.

“I guess I’ll go get dressed,” you handed Rafe his phone, making Kelce shake his head at you in disappointment.

The hum of the truck’s engine was the only sound in the car for a solid five minutes. You sat in the front seat, Tom having opened your door for you, while Rafe drove. You suddenly couldn’t remember what people do with their hands when they’re not driving. Where the hell do you put your hands? Tom’s voice cut through your internal panic.

“So, uh Rafe, Top says you went to Chapel Hill?” He inquired, sitting forward in the backseat so his head appeared between you and Rafe,

“Still do,” Rafe said curtly.

You looked at Rafe for the first time since pulling out of the beach house driveway. You wanted to ask him why he hadn’t graduated on time, always more invested in his academics than he was, but you were trying to pretend you didn’t care.

“Nice, man,” Tom tried to keep the conversation going. “I applied there, it’s hard to get in.”

“I guess I just hit the books a little harder than you then,” Rafe shrugged.

A scoff escaped you before you had the chance to stifle it. Rafe’s hands tightened on the steering wheel.

“What was that?” Rafe looked sideways at you for a moment.

“Nothing,” you crossed your arms over your chest.

“No, please share,” he prodded. You couldn’t believe he was copping an attitude with you.

“It’s just, I’m sure your last name had nothing to do with your acceptance,” you quipped.

Rafe’s jaw clenched and you smirked in satisfaction, pleased that you had gotten under his skin. Tom’s eyes flicked between the two of you, trying to decipher the vibe.

You were glad he didn’t try to attempt any further small talk. Once you got to the grocery store, you divided the shopping list three ways and split up to your designated aisles. You filled your cart as fast as you could, eager to get this shopping trip over with.

After checking everything off your list, you rounded the corner of the produce section toward the registers, your cart nearly crashing into Rafe’s. His entire shopping cart was filled with alcohol. You laughed at the sight. 

“What?” Rafe asked defensively.

“What are the rest of us gonna drink?” You smirked.

“Shut up,” he grinned. “It’s not all for me.”

“Okay but where is the stuff you were supposed to get?”

“It’s under there somewhere,” he mused.

“Sure,” you just shook your head with a smile and kept walking towards the register.

“Shit, wait,” Rafe rolled his cart to you and ran back down one of the aisles.

“No don’t worry about me, I got it,” you muttered to yourself bitterly.

You started pushing both carts but Rafe appeared quickly at your side again.

“Got it,” he breathed, adding one more thing to his cart.

It was a case of Redbull. You shifted on your feet uncomfortably, looking down into his cart. Redbull was his drink of choice in high school, you used to buy him one every day and bring it to him after practice, like a puppy fetching the morning paper. Rafe eyed you nervously, your soured expression leading him to believe you remembered just as well as he did. 

“Old habits die hard, huh?” You joked, trying to break the tense moment. 

“Yeah, can’t seem to kick that one,” he replied, relieved that you were the first to acknowledge it.

Tom caught up with you at check-out, his cart actually full of the things he was supposed to get. The three of you unloaded your goods to be rung up by a 16-year-old cashier who could not have been more annoyed that you had chosen his register.

Tom jumped in to help bag the groceries, chatting happily with the bag boy as he assisted. Rafe, however, stood there staring at his phone. 

After you finished emptying your cart, you watched Tom with a smile while he charmed the grocery store staff. Rafe looked up from his screen with a frown, stomach dropping when he saw that you were watching Tom with an affectionate smile.

“Is that everything?” The cashier asked hopefully.

You were about to say "yes" and also maybe "sorry" when Rafe cut you off.

“No wait, these too,” he reached toward the shelf and grabbed your favorite candy, looking at you expectantly as he handed it to the cashier.

“Your favorite,” he explained bashfully at the sight of your furrowed brows.

“Yeah, it is,” you agreed. “Just surprised you remember. Thanks.”

You looked at him for a moment longer than you should, your eyes lingering on each other’s as you shared another silent memory. You felt a twinge of nostalgia that you knew you shouldn’t.

While you and Rafe looked at each other, Tom pulled out his black card and entered it into the machine. Rafe noticed a moment too late and scrambled to pull his wallet from his pocket, fumbling for his credit card.

“Oh no, hey man, I was gonna get it,” Rafe finally pulled out the credit card he was looking for but Tom was already signing the screen with his finger.

“No worries dude,” Tom brushed him off politely. “You can get me back later this week.”

Rafe was the most competitive person you knew, and the richest, surely he wasn’t going to let another guy pay for everything and walk away. He opened his mouth like he was going to argue with Tom, but with a glance back at you he closed it again. Then he carried as many bags to the car as one person could possibly hold, mumbling something like "multiple trips are for pussies." 

Another fifteen minutes of painful silence might just make your head explode, you thought. The second you were back in the truck, the bed overflowing with groceries, you asked Rafe for the aux.

“What are you gonna play?” He sideyed you as he held it just out of reach. You leaned across the console to snatch it from his hands, and he felt pins and needles where your hand had brushed him. He wondered if you realized it was the first time you'd touched each other in four years.

The two of you had always fought over the aux, you’d eventually give in to his pouting and listened to his shitty house mixes and soundcloud rappers.

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved him off with a grin.

Four years ago, you would have been way too nervous to play what you truly wanted to listen to, afraid Rafe wouldn’t think it was cool enough. But now, you pressed play on your go-to playlist with gusto and beamed when your absolute favorite song started booming through his subwoofers. 

Rafe tried to keep his eyes on the road, but he couldn’t stop them from dancing back over to you as you sang along happily to your music. You rolled the window down, letting the humid Florida air raise your hair in a wave around you. You giggled and tried to tame it, eventually giving up and letting it whip around your face.

There was something so light about you. Something joyful and at peace. He placed both hands on the steering wheel, trying to ground himself, jealous of your carefree spirit. Whatever intangible thing you had managed to capture in your years apart, he wanted it. And it hit him like a lightning bolt, a bittersweet truth he had fought for so many years - he wanted you.

One song rolled into the next, and Rafe searched for something to say to keep up the almost-friendly banter you had begun in the store, but before he could come up with anything, Tom sat forward suddenly.

“Oh hey I love this song!” Tom informed you.

“Me too!” You turned to smile at him, and Rafe listened enviously as you and Tom chatted about the many favorite artists you have in common the rest of the way home.

The house was quiet when you returned, everyone either taking their daily hangover nap or down lounging by the beach. Rafe’s hands turned white from once again carrying as many plastic bags as he could. You tried not to laugh, and tried not to notice the way his biceps bulged under his tight t-shirt, but you failed at both.

“Are you laughing at me again?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement, placing the bags on the counter. “What is it this time?”

“Sorry, you’re just so helpful all of a sudden,” you pointed out with a smirk.

“Well bag boy over there wasn’t helping,” he nodded towards the patio, where Tom was taking a phone call.

“He said it’s a work call,” you defended him. “He just got a job in New York apparently, a Wall Street thing.

“Whatever,” Rafe mumbled. What he wanted to say was “since when are you two best friends?” but he had already been fairly gruff with you today and he was trying to refocus on his goal of getting you to like him again.

You and Rafe put the groceries away in silence for a while. You tried to find the right way to approach the question you were dying to ask, failing to convince yourself you didn't care about the answer.

“So,” you started nervously. “You didn’t graduate this year?”

Rafe’s shoulders tensed as he tried to make more room in the pantry.

“Nope,” he said shortly.

“Did you take some time off?”

He was torn between being glad that you were talking to him and mad that this was the topic you’d chosen to break the ice with.

“No, I-uh,” he cleared his throat. “I failed a couple classes my first year so I’m still a few credits behind.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, leaning down to put the ribs for the cookout in the large freezer.

“It’s my own fault,” he shrugged. “I was an idiot back then.”

When you stood from the freezer to grab another rack of ribs, you were surprised to see Rafe standing close, his body looming as he looked down at you.

“I was an idiot before then, too,” he continued, voice low and uncertain.

Everything in your mind went fuzzy as the blood rushed to your face. This was the first time you could smell him, and it familiarity of his scent made you feel like you were being transported back in time. You fought the urge to inhale deeply, greedy for the rush of him filling your senses.

“Before then?” You blinked up at him.

Rafe struggled to find his next words. It took everything in you not to fill in the blanks for him, like you were back in high school slipping him the answers to a test he hadn’t studied for. But this time, you needed him to find the answers all on his own. You swallowed hard, leaving silence for the words he was searching for. 

Before he could find them, Topper and Carter came barreling into the kitchen, mid-argument as always. They stopped short when they saw the scene in front of them. Rafe stepped away from you so quickly you could feel a woosh of wind in his wake. It was eerily reminiscent of your teenage years, Rafe separating himself from you as soon as there was anyone around to see you together.

“Everything okay?” Carter asked tensely, noticing the way your shoulders had fallen.

“Fine,” Rafe said, tossing the rest of the plastic bags in the trash and heading down the stairs to his basement bedroom, closing the door firmly behind him.

“Damn, you two did good,” Topper said, admiring the cornucopia of food you’d brought back.

“You three,” Carter corrected. “Tom went too.”

She walked up next to you and lowered her voice, a sly smile on her face, “and how did it go with Tom?”

You didn’t match her playful mood, completely preoccupied thinking about the moment you and Rafe had just shared. Was he about to apologize to you? What would you have let him do if your sister and psuedo-brother-in-law had entered the room just a minute later?

“It was fine,” you said distractedly, closing the fridge and heading upstairs to your room.

Carter turned on her heel and looked at Topper with a frown, shocked to find him beaming back at her.

“What are you smiling for?” She snarled.

“Oh nothing, seems like my plan is working is all,” he grinned. “They were standing awfully close when we walked in.”

“Your plan?” She stepped closer to him, arms crossed. “What are you up to Thornton?”

“Just playing a little Cupid,” he smiled proudly.

“Okay well you can go ahead and put down the bow and arrow, because I’ve already got that covered,” she informed him.

“Really?” He asked in surprise. “I thought you hated Rafe.”

“Rafe? Ew, no, I’m talking about Tom, obviously,” she snapped.

“Your sister and Tom? Nahhh, do you not see how she and Rafe have been looking at each other? It’s so obvious,” he scoffed.

“You know what else is obvious? That Rafe’s still a dick and he doesn’t deserve her,” Carter argued.

“He’s actually grown up a lot,” Topper said, surprising Carter with the serious shift in his tone. “He’s been through some stuff, college hasn’t been easy for him. He could use a win.”

Carter considered this, but it wasn’t enough to satisfy the years of bitterness she held for Rafe.

“Well, he had his chance. He had millions of chances with her and he fumbled every one,” she said.

“I know he did, but under it all he’s a good person. And I think good people deserve second chances,” Topper explained.

“Not when they hurt my sister,” she concluded. “I won’t allow it.”

Topper's eyes creased with his smile as he looked down at her, loving her steely look and pursed lips as she put her hands on her hips. 

“You’re still so bossy,” he smiled, sliding closer to her until their chests were nearly touching. “I know we’re supposed to be fighting, but it’s kinda hot.”

He leaned forward to plant a little kiss on her lips, like he’d done a million times before. Carter leaned back, leaving his puckered lips hanging.

“Oh no,” she pushed him back, making him frown. “You don’t get to touch me until you join Team Tom.”

“Nuh-uh! Team Rafe for life baby,” he crossed his arms to match her stance, recovering quickly, more than used to being rejected by her.

She studied him suspiciously, wondering how quickly he’d crack if she actually withheld their inevitable beach trip hook-up. But he didn’t budge, he was as serious about this as she was.

“Fine,” she said. “The game is so on.”

(Chapter 3)

a/n: so tell me... are we Team Tom or Team Rafe?

please note, the taglist for this series is currently closed. For updates, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs 💕

[aurorawritestoescape]

A STEP INTO HELL

Stepdad!Joel Miller x f!reader || Word count: 3k

Summary: after you move into his house, Joel finds himself possessed by the idea of having you. Trying to quench his lustful thirst he decides to get his hands on your nudes. To his surprise he finds something even better.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, step-cest, Joel’s pov, dub con but reader’s into it, legal age gap, dark!Joel, perv!Joel, obsessed!joel, darkish!reader, unprotected piv/dvp (wrap it up), sex toy usage, blackmail, sex audio recording, creampie, degradation, slutshaming, praise kink, daddy kink, mention of f/m masturbation/f!oral/anal/food play, slapping (1), cum eating, swearing.

A/n: huge thank you to @megangovier for this ask and the idea!💖 I had a blast working on this story. Hope you’ll like it, lovely!🌸 Kisses to @milla-frenchy for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @/enchanthings and @/saradika-graphics 💕

MASTERLIST || SERIES MASTERLIST || more step family naughtiness

Joel wasn’t a good man. He wasn’t moral, ethical or rational. The only thing Joel seemed to be recently was horny. Horny for his stepdaughter.

It wasn’t a gradual obsession. Not at all. It took over him suddenly and overwhelmingly. You had lived with your dad after your parents’ divorce, but then moved into Joel’s house to stay closer to your college. He had barely seen you before and then you were in his house all the fucking time.

Was his attraction out of the blue? Not really. You were a hot young woman. Every man’s dream. But the maddening desire took Joel by surprise. Like a tsunami it put his life upside down, taking away any sense he might have had before. The lust for you was like a poison, coursing through his veins, pumping blood to his big cock more often than it was expected for a man of his age.

In hopes of getting rid of the toxic passion, Joel jerked off regularly like a horny teenager. He watched tons of porn, choosing the ones with women that looked like you. To his distress, it seemed to entice him even more. Like a dog he couldn’t stop salivating every time he saw you.

Joel would often get lost in his thoughts at the breakfast table, sitting right in front of you and thinking about the shape of your pussy. ‘Did you have a little clit hidden behind your lips or could he see it right away if he took your shorts and panties off at that moment? Did you shave your cunt or could he tug you lightly by your soft pubes?’ He’d be happy with anything, a pussy was a pussy, especially if it belonged to a sweet thing like you. He couldn’t help but daydream of eating you out on the table right next to the pancakes your mother had made, your sweet pussy served with maple syrup on top, or melted butter all over your folds. He’d slurp it happily with your slick and cum and chase it with his black coffee. Breakfast of champions!

Joel ground his teeth. He had to keep himself from acting on his desires. Not because of your mom, fuck that nagging bitch! His dick barely reacted to her anymore. Divorce was what really terrified Joel. He’d hate to deal with all of that— too much paperwork, too much hustle. That was the last thing Joel needed.

The first thing was you. After a month of pumping his cock after every encounter with his stepdaughter, Joel got really frustrated and decided to act. He worked out a plan. Surely you had some juicy selfies on your laptop, he thought, so one day he knocked on your bedroom door with a secret motive to get his big paws on them.

You sweet voice let him in.

Joel stepped into your bedroom, his brows furrowed, the shoulders square, trying to intimidate you with his steel gaze and dominant tone so you’d agree faster.

“I need your laptop. Mine broke.”

You were lying on your bed with your phone in your hands, wearing your tiny shorts and a crop top and his dirty mind immediately drew him a picture of your naked body splayed and offered to him, head hanging off the side of the bed with his cock plunging in and out of your mouth. He could bet he’d be able to feel his shlong inside your tight throat. He’d probably come so fast like that and discharge his cum right into your belly. Bon appetite, baby!

“Hmm,” you hummed, blinking at him. You seemed hesitant and it made Joel even more excited—you definitely had something to hide. His jeans got strained with the might of his growing dick.

“C’mon. I’ll just pay the bills and give it back to ya.”

“Oh. I don’t know. Ehm—ok.”

As soon as you agreed Joel snatched the laptop off your desk and went to the master bedroom. His wife was working late that night so it was a perfect opportunity to find your nudes and jerk off to his heart's content.

Joel plunged on the bed and began his horny search. Let’s help Joel find his stepdaughter’s nudes!

Are they in this folder? — No!

That one? — Look better!

Here? — Fuck, no!

He was growing hopeless. No way a girl with an ass like yours wouldn’t want to have it in a photo. Your perfect tits were asking to be jerked off to. So where the hell were the goods?

He was searching everywhere until he stumbled upon a folder with a few tracks. He didn’t care about them at first but his thick finger accidentally double clicked one of them and to his surprise he heard his voice.

“No, wait— fuck—spread wider—yes—yeahhh.“

He increased the volume and his jaw dropped. Yes, he was sure now. It was his voice.

‘When was it recorded?’ Joel asked himself, listening to his groans. Suddenly it dawned on him. It was a couple of weeks ago when he was fucking his wife. His grunts and growls were the only audible noises, which was not surprising -your mother was always silent like a corpse when he was fucking her.

Yet Joel’s voice could be heard clearly. He listened to a few tracks and all of them were recordings of his voice— him talking to his clients on the phone, him discussing the last game with Tommy.

‘What a dirty slut!’ flashed in Joel’s mind. He wasn’t thinking anymore. With his cock already hard, Joel knew what to do and acted immediately.

He rushed back into your bedroom.

“Done?” you asked when he barged in. With your arm stretched, you were waiting for him to return your laptop, but he was still holding it.

“Fuckin’ slut.” Joel’s smirk was dark and triumphant.

Your face fell and you looked like you’d seen a ghost.

“Yeah, exactly! I found your little spy audios, baby! Why were you recording me and your mom having sex, little perv, huh?”

You pulled your knees to your chest, squeezing into yourself, and mumbled,

“I’m not— I—no—please—I wasn’t recording her.”

“Oh? But you recorded me! Wanted to hear your stepdad’s groans, dirty slut?”

You were quiet, with your gaze downcast, looking scared to death. That was exactly what Joel needed.

“Imma tell your mom.”

“No! No, please, Joel, no! I’m begging!”

“Unless—“, he mused.

“Yes! Anything! Please!”

Here we go. He had you where he wanted. Finally.

“Unless you become my fuck toy.”

You looked gobsmacked.

“What?”

“Don’t act shocked, babydoll. Bet you want it more than anythin’. What were you doin’ with those tracks, sweetie? Listenin’ and thinkin’ of our lord and savior? Fuck no! Were probably fuckin’ yourself silly, moanin’ my name. Your stepdad's name, little slut!”

He shook his head and tutted at you while you were shaking like a leaf.

”I’m givin’ you a way out, baby. But only if! If I can have my way in. In all your holes.”

“All?” Your voice was so small and trembling, it made his cock twitch.

“All, babydoll! I wanna fuck your mouth - yes, please, Joel! Wanna fuck your ass? you’ll let me! Pussy right after? Of course, sir! That’s what antibiotics are for.”

You sniffed loudly and burst into tears.

“Please Joel— I can’t—we shouldn’t!”

Joel smirked and walked to the bed, stopping right in front of you. He cupped your wet cheek and cooed, “I know we shouldn’t, babydoll. That’s why it’s so damn hot.”

You sniffed and leaned into his touch, your big teary eyes looking up at him.

Joel couldn’t believe his luck. The little slut was melting. He was going to have so much fun!

“Get undressed, sweetie. Let’s get right to it.”

Joel didn’t believe in God. But right at that moment he swore that someone above had blessed him. Or someone below for that matter. You were taking off your shorts, top and then panties, wiping tears off your pretty face with the back of your hand. He immediately snatched your underwear and shoved it in his jean pocket.

“On your back. Spread your legs. Let me see what daddy’s gonna play with.”

You widened your eyes at what he called himself but did what he told you. You lay down and slightly parted your bent legs.

“Don’t shake. I won’t hurt ya,” Joel growled, rolling your chair to the bed and making it squeak under his weight when he got comfortable ready to enjoy the view.

Your pussy was hotter than anything he’d seen or imagined and his cock was thumping hard in the confines of his jeans. Joel unzipped them and pulled his boxers down. Your glossy eyes immediately snapped to his bobbing stiff manhood.

“Yeah, sweetie, take a good look. Ya gonna learn every rim and vein of this dick pretty soon. Its taste too,” Joel added and shook it in his hand. He wasn’t leaking yet but when he pushed your legs wider apart and your folds opened up to his view, his slit began crying happy tears.

“Fuck, babydoll. She’s even better than I imagined. And believe me, I thought about your snatch a lot.”

Your breath hitched when Joel leaned closer and his thick fingers spread your lips.

“Look at this hole. Tight. We need to get ya ready first. This bad boy—“ he jiggled his cock again- “can damage you and we don’t want that, yeah?”

You shook your head and Joel’s hand glided over your mound, his digits slipped between your folds in a perverted examination.

“Ya have a dick?”

You were blinking up at him, confusion swimming in your blown out eyes.

“Rubber cock? Dildo? Jesus, ya slow.”

“Ohh… yeah,” you nodded and averted your eyes in shame.

“Aww, don’t act shy and shit. I think we’re past that, little slut.”

He got up with a smirk on his lips and, after following your line of vision, opened your nightstand drawer.

“Where is it? Ah!”

It wasn’t long until Joel found your toy - a pink dildo.

“Damn, sweetie, I see you’re not adventurous at all! Look!”

With a chuckle Joel lined the dildo up with his own cock which was longer and girthier than the toy and shot his brows up at you.

You closed your eyes, probably not believing what was happening in your bedroom, but then snapped them open when you felt a cold tip of the toy prod your tight hole.

”Joel! Lube!” you exclaimed, trying to push away the dildo. Your stepdad was looming over you, standing by the bed, his smile devilish.

“Of course. A little slut like you deserves the best lube. Daddy’s spit.”

He leaned down and gathered some saliva in his mouth before opening his lips and letting it drop right on your slit. You jerked.

”More?” Joel asked and not waiting for your response spit on it again, with force now. You moaned when a glob of liquid hit your clit and Joel’s fiery gaze found yours.

”You want it, yeah? That’s why you recorded me. Do you want me?”

He didn’t know why he was asking that. You were already lying in front of him on the bed, pussy out and ready to be fucked. But a possessive part of him wished for you to want him back.

You tried to avert your eyes but he leaned closer and took your cheeks between his fingers, keeping you facing him.

“Tell me!”

Your quiet, shaky ’yes’ rang loud in the bedroom and in his head. After your confession Joel’s flannel covered chest expanded with pride and triumph. He still got it. He had blackmailed you but he totally could have gotten you all by himself.

Drunk on the ego boost he kissed you with vigor and hunger, swallowing your mewls and whimpers. Then he ripped his mouth off and hovered over you, watching your eyes roll back when he pushed the dildo between your saliva-coated folds and inserted it into your hole. You moaned his name and Joel started leaking like a faucet.

He began fucking you with the toy, groaning and drinking in your sweet sounds.

“Ya love it, little slut? Bet you were dreaming of this. Your stepdad fuckin’ this pink cock into your hungry hole. Listenin’ to my voice.”

He leaned closer and growled right into your ear,

“Daddy’s here now and he’s gonna claim all your holes, sweetie.”

When he changed the angle of the dildo, you tilted your head back into the mattress with a loud whimper, biting your lower lip. Your pleasure drove Joel insane.

”You’ll be my fuckdoll in no time. I’ll train your pussy, your ass, your mouth. Ya gonna take me. Take me so good. Gonna tity-fuck you. Bathe you in my cum. You won’t need anything except my huge cock. And my voice. Give it to me now, baby! Come!”

“Daddy!” you cried out and your body began shaking and trembling under Joel. He didn’t stop moving the toy inside you until your limbs fell weakly on the bed and your face relaxed. Your eyes closed by themselves, body and mind spent after an emotional and physical climax.

Joel’s poor dick was engorged and leaking, demanding the warmth of your wet cunt. And he was absolutely sure that you were drenched.

He threw your legs wider apart with his knee and with a wolfish smirk stared at your clear juices sliding from under the pink cock, which was still sticking out of your cunt.

Suddenly Joel got an idea. His horny mind wanted nothing else but to spear you with his manhood. But he felt generous that day. You deserved so much more than just his cock!

Not tearing his dark gaze off you lying with your eyes closed and breathing fast, he took his jeans and flannel off. He was still wearing his white undershirt when his eager lips latched onto your exposed tits, his hot tongue swirled around your hardened nipples, one after the other. Joel’s hands were roaming your body, squeezing and pinching it lightly. Like a starving animal he couldn’t get enough of your submission, your skin, your curves and crevices. He was pulling little moans out of you and, with your eyelids still closed, you looked inebriated, drunk on his touch and your ecstasy, until Joel slightly slapped your cheek.

Your eyes fluttered open and you mewled, looking up at him, gaze foggy.

“My dick’s achin’, baby. Get ready to take it,” he warned and then got another bright idea. “Let’s record our first time. I’ll share it with you, baby, don’t worry. I know how much you love hearing daddy’s voice.” Joel laughed and took his phone out of his jeans lying on the floor.

“Smile, sweetie,” he commanded but you covered your face with your hands when he took a few nudes. It was good enough for him.

He started recording and threw the phone on the bed. Your sweet moans were enough for him too.

When Joel brough his tip to your already stuffed hole, your eyes widened.

“Joel, the toy—“

“Yeah, I know —I know — lemme do it.”

“Are you recording us?”

”Yeah, baby. Daddy needs something to jerk off to when you’re away.”

“Oh—ok, I guess.”

“Ya being such a good girl for me. Ain’t I lucky?”

“Joel, it won’t fit.”

“It will, babydoll. Tilt your hips a little. Yeah, damn. I’ll use my thumb to push it in. Jus’ a tip’ll do for today.”

“Ahhh—oh my god—your cock’s so big.”

“I know, right? But—Ya jus’ need to relax. Lemme stroke you—fuck, you’re wet, my hand’s soaked. Ya like it when I rub your clit like that?”

“Ahhhh—yeahh–yeahh—“

“Good little slut. It’s already in, baby. Lookit! My tip’s in.”

“Oh, fuck, Joel. I feel so full—ahhh.“

“Don’t curse, baby, or I’ll spank you.”

“Joellllll—”

“That’s better. Moan my name when I’m fuckin’ you. Your hole’s stretched so good right now. Taking both cocks. Wish you could see what I see. Greedy little cunt.”

“Ohhhh, Joel. I’m gonna—“

“Call me ‘daddy’ if ya want. i know you do—hngggg”

“Daddyyyy!”

“Fuck— fuck—aahhhhh.”

Joel was shooting his hot cum into you, rope after rope. He didn’t plan on coming inside but the lust clouded his mind. He wanted you full with his load, his cock and the dildo. The sight of your pussy swallowing everything he gave you, stretched to the limit, pushed him over the edge and into the pits of hell. He didn’t care. He was growling, his head down, watching his balls twitch, pumping his jeez into your core. They were resting on the toy, which was half pushed out of your hole by his own cock and your pulsating walls. He could believe that he made his stepdaughter come on his dick while she was moaning like a whore, accepting his cum like the greatest gift. What a perfect little slut!

When the last drop of his load was discarded into your sloppy cunt, Joel pulled his cock and the pink toy out. Both were glistening with his and your cum.

“Clean us up,” he growled and made you get up on shaky legs. You immediately fell on your knees and Joel grinned.

“Good girl. Now get to work.”

He brought the toy to his still hard manhood and watched you lick the cocks clean. At one point you took both dicks in your whimpering mouth.

“Fuck, ya hot! All your holes are hungry for two dicks, huh? Your pussy, now your mouth. Ya know what hole’s next, yeah?”

You pulled away with a scared expression and Joel barked a laugh.

”Don’t fret, sweetie. All in its time.”

He pulled you up by your arm and held your body tight when his lips crashed against yours. The taste of you and him made his cock twitch. He kissed you hard and you welcomed it. Perfect little slut indeed.

”Get some sleep,” he ordered, tucking you into bed. You looked fucked out of your mind and your tired smile made him smirk. “You need rest. So daddy could have lots of fun with you later.”

He turned the lights off on his way out.

Joel wasn’t a good man. But he was a happy one.

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!<3

MASTERLIST || SERIES MASTERLIST || more step family naughtiness

Tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @pascaltesfaye @fruityreads @itwasntimethatdidit40

Special tag @toxicanonymity

[flemingology]

christmas request - you get sexy christmas lingerie and surprise leah with a lapdance (which inevitably leads to smut)

unwrapping you ─ leah williamson x reader

part of my christmas series. full masterlist here!

in which: you leave leah's best surprise for last

warnings: implied smut (18+), lap dance, language but also a whole load of fluff

wc: 3.9k

a/n: most unrealistic part in this fic is chicken soup and sandwiches being one of leah fav foods (god forbid that woman eats something colored). in other words... how does one write a lap dance????? this is not full-blown smut. i didn't really feel like including that in this series, but i hope i still did your request justice. <3

Your first Christmas with Leah had been perfect.

Your lover woke you up this morning to breakfast in bed, Leah wanting to make use of the fact she finally perfected the one recipe she knew – fluffy pancakes. You thanked her accordingly with a couple fierce kisses that soon turned into way more than either of you had planned, the two of you finally rolling out of bed a good two hours later, messy hair and flushed cheeks a testament to what you had been up to in bed.

You took a warm shower together, and then set foot outside for a light Sunday morning stroll through London's Christmas markets. You walked side by side, one hand occupied with holding Leah's, other hand nursing a hot chocolate. You took your time on each stall, admiring all the handmade ornaments, pieces of clothing and so many other things that were up for sale. You managed not to spend too much, not getting anything more than a small extra present for your sister and a cute little ornament you would add to your table decoration for the team dinner on New Year's Day.

Back home, you made a quick lunch. You heated up some leftovers from the night before, when you made chicken soup and some sandwiches, one of Leah's self-proclaimed favorite dishes that you made. You spent the rest of the afternoon lounging about, gliding from one Friends episode into the other, drifting in and out of sleep in each other's arms on the couch.

It wasn't until evening came around though, that the best part of the day took place. You had kept the best for last; the presents. Normally you weren't one to wait for the evening, but Leah claimed that it would be cozier, and you had to agree. Your apartment was coated in a warm glow from the mood lighting all around, a couple vanilla-scented candles adding to the cozy atmosphere, you and your blonde lover cuddled up on the couch, a pile of unopened presents ready to be attacked on your coffee table.

As promise to one another, neither of you went overboard. Leah had quite the tendency to spoil you, but you wanted none of that. And to your surprise, she actually stuck to her promise. There were 5 presents on the coffee table; 2 for your girlfriend and 3 for you. Unbeknownst to Leah, though, her 3rd and arguably best present of the night, was already unpacked and waiting for her under your layer of clothes.

A couple days ago, while Leah was at training, you ventured out into the busy streets of London for a final surprise for your girlfriend. You were more than happy with the two presents you had at hand, but you couldn't shake the thought in your mind that had been there for the past couple of weeks, to buy a new set of red, lace lingerie – one that you knew would drive her completely nuts.

So with that secret in mind, you and Leah started opening your presents. She insisted you opened the first one.

"For you, my love," she said, pressing a soft kiss to your lips as she handed you the first of her presents, the smallest one. You inspected the envelope, not able to make much from it on first glance. It looked elegant, though, a golden glow coming from the paper. You carefully opened the envelope, revealing a light green card with pastel accents. You couldn't really figure out what it was just yet, but with a little nudging from your girlfriend in the right direction, your eyes lit up as it dawned on you. "You booked us a weekend away?"

Leah nodded, a soft hum leaving her lips. "I know you've been wanting to get away for a little while," she started, taking one of your hands in hers. "I've been busy. You've been busy. But we can take a couple days for ourselves and for us. It'll be nice." Leah had a tentative look on her face, her eyes scanning yours, as if she was gauging whether you were actually happy with this.

Leah was right. The two of you had been extremely busy lately – your girlfriend's football schedule ramping up, and it seemed like the winter months had brought an influx of people wanting to buy estate, leaving you with a tremendous amount of work that you more often than not also took home.

You quickly gave Leah a fierce nod after you realized you got caught up in your thoughts, leaning towards her and pressing a soft kiss against her lips. "Thank you, I love this. I love you. We need it. It'll be good," you mumbled against her lips, your hand cupping her cheek and giving her another peck before you pulled away.

"My turn," you said excitedly. You grabbed the smallest one, a square box delicately wrapped in an elegant-looking black wrapping paper with silver accents. "This looks neat," Leah chuckled, and you bit your lip in apprehension as you handed her your first present. Unlike you, Leah wasn't so delicate with unwrapping presents. She was all ripping and tearing, nothing graceful about her movements. She'd never been a patient one when it came to things like these, and in all fairness, you couldn't blame her. Forever a kid at heart, Leah loved presents.

You got pulled out of your thoughts when you heard a faint gasp escaping your lover's throat. You searched Leah's eyes for any emotion but you couldn't read it, your heart starting to beat a little faster. "Babe, this is...," Leah inspected her present a little closer, "this is gorgeous." She carefully lifted the golden watch out of it's holder and held it in the light, the timepiece brightly reflecting the cozy hue in your apartment.

You'd first gotten the idea when you noticed Leah was online shopping the other day, looking for a new watch. You knew she liked to have a couple, alternating between them based on what outfit she'd wear. She'd been speaking about a new golden one for a while now, the one she had had lasted its time and she wanted a new one. Ever the observer, you'd made a mental note. A perfect Christmas gift.

Leah sported a bright smile, her gaze now pointed towards you. "Thank you, I've been looking at getting a new one, this is perfect," Leah took your hand in hers and gave it an appreciative squeeze, putting the watch back in it's holder and carefully placing the box back on the coffee table. "You could wear it with the black suit you have for New Year's Eve, it'd look really good," you said softly, Leah replying with nothing more than a suggestive wink.

Your blonde lover reached back over to the presents, grabbing a little silver bag and handing it to you. "We're staying in theme," Leah chuckled. You raised your eyebrows at her before your fingers made quick work of untying the knot, revealing a fine, silver necklace with a little L on. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you took in your present, admiring the way it glistened. "I know this seems like I'm basically claiming you, but I wouldn't have bought you this if you hadn't told me about a million times that you wanted one of these."

You let out a breathy laugh, throwing your head back against the couch. "Just for the record, I have no problem with you claiming me." You locked eyes with your girlfriend and saw a little twinkle in hers, to which you surged forward and pressed a firm kiss against her lips. "Thank you. You wanna help putting it on?" Leah nodded eagerly and twisted her body towards yours, clasping the necklace around your neck. Her fingers ghosted over the L that now hung between your collarbones. She kissed your lips once more, lingering a little before she pulled away again and sat upright.

Your next present for Leah was something you knew she'd be over the moon with. Arsenal through and through, your girlfriend had been collecting vintage Arsenal kits ever since you remember. Signed, worn, match kits, training kits, your wardrobe was full with her Arsenal memorabilia. There was one missing though, Arsenal's home shirt from the 2005/06 season, their last year at Highbury. You stumbled across it on Vinted a couple months ago and couldn't believe that it hadn't been picked up yet. The shirt was in perfect state, Thierry Henry's name and number splayed out on the back of it. You paid no mind to the price and ordered it immediately, knowing just how happy your girlfriend would be with it.

You passed her your second present. She felt around a little. "It's definitely clothing." She fumbled around a bit longer with the wrapping paper, before you interrupted. "Le, baby, how about you just open it and see what's inside instead of guessing." Her cheeks blushed a faint red but she complied nonetheless, once again very ungracefully tearing away at the wrapping paper.

Leah's eyes widened and her jaw dropped as she took sight of the burgundy shirt. You couldn't really tell with the lack of proper lighting in the room, but you swear you saw a couple unshed tears in her eyes. She quickly made work of the plastic layer around the shirt, holding it up in front of her. "Check the back," you said softly, reaching out towards your girlfriend and resting your hand on her leg that was slightly bouncing, testament to her excitement.

Leah turned the shirt around and you saw her smile growing impossibly bigger. "Babe, genuinely, what the fuck." You chuckled and shuffled closer to her, leaning your head on her shoulder and admiring the shirt along with her. "Nice one, eh?" Leah turned her face towards you and she cocked an eyebrow. "Nice? This isn't just 'nice', this is incredible," Leah scoffed. She turned the shirt back around, feeling the fabric, checking the label, as if she was still not sure whether this was real. "God, you've outdone yourself, y/n. I can't top this."

A smile tugged on the corners of your lips, pressing a soft kiss against Leah's cheek. "I knew you'd love it." Leah folded the shirt neatly and put it down on the coffee table next to the watch, turning her body towards yours. She cupped your cheeks and pressed a tender kiss against your lips, saying so much more than words could grasp. "You're amazing. I love you so much."

Leah pecked your lips another couple times before she retreated and set back against the armrest of the couch. "If I knew an Arsenal shirt was all it would take for you to be so expressive with you love, I wouldn't have waited this long," you said teasingly, earning a grunt and a playful swat at your thigh from your lover. "I am expressive with my love. Don't start on me!" A light giggle fell from your lips and waved away any further protest by grabbing Leah's hand and pressing a soft kiss against her palm. "You've got one more from me," Leah announced giddily, removing her hand from yours and grabbing the final present from the table. "This one's a bit more... sentimental."

You raised your eyebrows at your girlfriend, trying to read anything into her expression, but failing. "Sentimental...," you pried. "Yeah. Just open it. You'll see." You took the present from Leah's hands, the package laying relatively heavy in your hands. You carefully unwrapped it, each tear of the paper revealing a little more of Leah's final present. Eventually, you realized what it was. A handmade book of the last three years of your relationship. The book was littered with polaroids, screenshots of messages, souvenirs from places you went together, movie tickets, little notes you left for her to find on days you were out the country, and so many more. You could feel a stray tear making its way down your cheek as you scrolled your way through the book, catching it as quick as possible before it could fall on the paper and ruin anything. "Gosh, Leah,..." you mumbled, "sentimental is one way to put it, yeah," you said, muttering out the words past the obvious lump in your throat, sniffling a couple times as the memories unfolded underneath your fingers.

"You like it?" Leah's voice sounded small, and it almost agitated you, because you didn't even know how to begin voicing to her how much this meant to you. Leah wasn't one for the big romantic gestures, nor was she very showy with her affection, so for her to do something like this, to put so much time and effort into handcrafting this, it meant the world to you. You lifted your head and locked your gaze with your girlfriend's, a small frown etched between your eyebrows. "Le, please,..." you breathed, "do I like it?" You scoffed, and shook your head lightly at how ridiculous you found the question. "This means so much to me, Leah, you know that." You felt the blonde nudge a little closer to you, resting her head on your shoulder and looking at the polaroid your fingers seemed to linger on. "Remember that night?" she said softly, pressing a soft kiss against your shoulder.

"Of course I do," you said matter-of-factly. It was a polaroid you'd taken on the first time Leah slept over at your apartment. You'd been over at hers plenty of times, but somehow her sleeping over at yours felt like a step up. She'd come over and brought your favorite Italian take-away. Initially you both insisted on cooking together, but a long day at respectively football and work lulled you both into the comfort of having a meal prepared for you. You lounged on the sofa for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing until you settled for watching a film wrapped in each other's embrace. Somewhere during the night, though, you felt like the air had shifted a little. Touches lingered a little longer, kisses were a little sloppier, leading to the first time you made love to one another later that night. It was messy, clumsy and very nervous, but it was perfect. Perfect, because it was yours.

The memories flooded your mind and you couldn't help the jolt of arousal that coursed through your body upon remembering the events of that night. You leaned your head against Leah's, pressing a kiss against her temple. "As much as I would love to look through all of this right now, I've got one last present for you," you said softly, coaxing her head off your shoulder, carefully closing the handmade book and placing it on the coffee table. You tried to ignore the little insecurity that crept underneath your skin when you thought about Leah's final present. Deep down, you knew she'd love it, but you always felt a little apprehensive about things like this. The lingerie was one thing, the lap dance you were planning on giving her a whole other. "Another one? But it's not on the table?" Leah's eyes scanned around the room, clearly confused as to where you could've hidden another present. "It's not there, Le," you chuckled at the expression on her face. "It's upstairs. You stay here, I'll be right back," you put a hand on her chest and gave her lips a chaste kiss, standing up from the couch and making your way up the stairs before she could quip back a response.

You thanked your former self for having already put on the lingerie before Leah came home this afternoon, one less thing to worry about now in your nervous state. You slipped off Leah's your hoodie and sweatpants you'd been wearing, your girlfriend insisting that she wanted you to spend tonight in cozy clothing. You braved a look at yourself in the full-length mirror in your bedroom, and you felt some of the insecurities melt away. You looked good. The lingerie hugged your body in all the right places, accentuating all the curves you knew Leah loved so much. The longline bra was snug around your waist, the lace perfectly outlining the curve of your breasts. The thin red bottoms left little to the imagination, the waistband – accentuated with a little ribbon – just underneath your belly button. They gave prominence to your strong, tanned legs, likely your favorite thing about this set. You gave yourself an appreciative nod and pulled a robe out of your shared wardrobe, draping it over your half-naked body, giving Leah an extra layer to take off. You quickly decided to also pull a pair of red heels out of your wardrobe, putting them on and making your way out of the bedroom before you could doubt your choice of footwear. You stood at the edge of the stairs and took a steadying breath before you started making your way down. The clicking of your heels alerted Leah immediately, not able to delay her seeing you until you were downstairs.

Her eyes widened in surprise as she took in your outfit, and she put her phone down that she was mindlessly scrolling on to pass some time while you were upstairs. You could see a little glint in her eyes as you took the final step of the stairs, making your way back over to the couch at a tantalizingly slow pace. The air had most definitely shifted, Leah's intense gaze locking with yours as you slowed to a stop right in front of her. A smile tugged at your lips and you grabbed Leah's chin between your thumb and index finger, coaxing her face up towards yours and pressing a dizzying kiss against her lips. "I told you I had one final present," you mumbled against her mouth. "Why don't you discover what's underneath this robe?" You softly bit Leah's bottom lip as you let go of her lips, a lust-filled haze now clouding her eyes as she thought about what could be underneath the robe.

Leah's fingers made quick work of the knot tied around your waist, leaving the piece of clothing to fall to the ground, revealing your lingerie. "Oh," Leah's breath hitched in her throat and you would've grown insecure about her reaction if you hadn't seen the twinkle in her eyes. You were hit by a flurry of confidence and you twirled around, shaking your ass a little while your back was facing her before you turned back to face her. "Fuck, babe, this is..." Your girlfriend's words got caught in her throat as she let her eyes rake over your body once more, making sure she wasn't dreaming. You'd worn lingerie for her a couple times, after she had voiced how much she'd love it if you tried a couple sets. But never had it been a thing outside of the bedroom. You'd worn lingerie sets, worn sets underneath robes for her to discover, but it always happened in the comfort of your own bed. This, though, was a next step. A slight blush coated your cheeks as you felt Leah's intense gaze on you. She reached out one of her hands and looked up to you apprehensively, "Can I?" A smile tugged at your lips and you let out a light chuckle. "I'm all yours."

Leah's hands roamed all over your body, from your waist, to your thighs, to your lace-covered breasts, your calves, your ass, your girlfriend didn't leave a spot untouched. It wasn't long before her touches grew needy, and you put a hand against her chest to stop her, not wanting the rest of her surprise to get lost in her own excitement. "Le, wait," you said. Her eyes flicked up to yours, and you noticed how wide her pupils had gotten. A smirk made its way onto your face as to what would happen next. "You've been so good to me. Let me do this for you, okay?" You didn't await Leah's response. Instead you pulled Leah forward a little, and turned your body around, spreading your legs sitting yourself down on her lap. You couldn't ignore the doubts that crept in your mind about what you were doing, because you had never done anything like this. You'd sat on Leah's lap, plenty of times, but you'd never given her a lap dance. You did your research, naturally, you even watched a couple videos – although you had to click those off due to the abundance of secondhand embarrassment you experienced. Either way, you tried to calm your nerves by thinking how much Leah would love this, no matter how good you were at it. She never failed to voice her love for your bum.

Pulling yourself out of your thoughts, you leaned your back against Leah's chest and gave a tentative roll of your hips against her lap. The slight hitch of your girlfriend's breath didn't go unnoticed to you and it gave you the fire in your belly to continue your ministrations. You started grinding your hips against hers in a steady but slow rhythm. You alternated between moves, gently bouncing up and down Leah's lap or popping your hips every now and then, every reaction you pulled out of your girlfriend fueling your confidence. You could sense Leah was a bit unsure as to what to do with her hands, but as the time went on and she felt herself getting more and more aroused, she started guiding your body along with her hands. She aided your movements, pushing you down against her hips, loving the way your behind brushed her core with every gyration of your hips.

A couple moments passed and an idea popped into your mind. You leaned back into your girlfriend, your head resting on her shoulder as you looked up towards her and your gazes locked, a small frown etched on your face that was driving Leah wild. You locked lips with her and you couldn't hold back the breathy moan that escaped your lips at the feeling of her mouth against yours. The kiss was messy, all tongue and teeth, and it perfectly encapsulated the building pressure between the both of you. You tried moving your hips in an eight-figure, which pulled a groan from your girlfriend. "You're driving me crazy," Leah whispered into your ear, softly nipping at your earlobe as she kept her hands firmly on your waist.

You let out a breathy laugh that soon turned into a whimper as Leah's hands moved up towards your breasts, palming them and placing kisses against your back as you rolled your hips back into hers. One of your arms was placed on Leah's thighs, holding yourself up, and you threw the other around your girlfriend's neck, letting your nails rake over the skin on the back of her neck. Your moves grew frantic as you felt arousal building in your core, your gyrations less measured and less precise, the more Leah's hands started to wander all over your body. Any remnants of your earlier insecurity long washed away, you were more than pleased with how your final present for your girlfriend turned out. "God, Le, you feel so good," you breathed out as you let your head fall to her shoulder once again, pressing a kiss to the side of her neck. A particularly harsh thrust of your hips against hers caused Leah to groan again, digging her fingers into your sides as she whispered in your ear.

"Bedroom. Now."

[lovemaybankk]

sweet - part 2: rafe cameron x kook!reader (18+)

pairing: rafe cameron x kook!reader

read part 1 here!

read part 3 here! (soon to be added)

inspired by lana del rey's song, "sweet" ♡

summary: growing up with your protective older brother, topper thornton, has been challenging yet comforting. until recently, have you been starting to see your older brother's friend, rafe cameron, in a new light and your relationship with him starts to change.

word count: 4,012 words, should be proofread but pls feel free to comment regarding anything

author's note: thank you so much for reading this new series!! i sincerely hope you enjoy :)

warning: mdni, cursing, dub-con/non-con, coercive behaviour, degradation kink, oral sex (fem receiving), teasing, masturbation

you and topper arrived at the wreck as your grandparents were settling into their favorite corner booth. the small, rustic restaurant was a local favorite, located near the water, with walls decorated in nautical-themed knickknacks and old photographs of fishing boats ran by the carerra's. the scent of freshly brewed coffee and sizzling bacon filled the air, mixing with the faint saltiness of the nearby ocean breeze that wafted in through the open windows.

you slid into the booth next to topper, who was already immersed in his phone, only looking up to greet your grandparents with his usual charm. "morning, grandma. grandpa," he said, flashing a grin that immediately earned him their full attention.

when the food arrived, the table grew quieter, everyone focused on their pancakes and muffins. outside, the wind picked up slightly, rustling the palm fronds that framed the wreck’s front entrance. you found yourself glancing out the window, letting the rhythmic crashing of distant waves ground you. the warmth of the food, the laughter of your grandparents, and the quiet reassurance of a north carolina sunday morning made the coming out worth it.

as the plates were cleared and coffee cups refilled, your grandpa leaned over to ask about your plans for the week, his gentle curiosity pulling you back into the moment.

after the conversation with your grandpa was nearly finished about your plans and as the plates were being cleared, your mom looked up from her coffee and focused in on you. "so, y/n," she started, her tone casual but with an edge of curiosity, "topper mentioned you went out last night."

you froze for a second, your fork halfway to your mouth. topper, of course. "yes, i just went to grab food."

your dad chimed in, setting his mug down with a thud. "at that hour? with who?"

you hesitated, glancing briefly at topper, who had a smirk plastered across his face. you knew he was waiting to see how you’d explain. "rafe took me," you admitted, keeping your tone as neutral as possible, "he offered to since topper and kelce didn't."

that immediately caught their attention. your mom’s eyebrows shot up, and your dad leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms. "rafe cameron?" your mom asked, her voice clear with interest. "as in ward cameron’s son?"

"yes mom," you responded in a respectful manner.

your mom’s face lit up. “he’s such a good young man,” she said, glancing at your dad. “and their family—what a legacy. ward practically built half of figure eight.”

your dad (and grandparents) nodded in agreement, his expression thoughtful. "ward’s done well for himself and his family."

your mom turned her focus back to you, her smile almost too wide. "and rafe, he’s such a gentleman to take you out like that." her attention turned towards topper, "really kind of your friend to look after your little sister.”

you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, hoping the conversation would not veer the way you had a feeling it would. you said quickly, "he just gave me a ride. that’s all."

but your mom wasn’t letting it go. "still," she insisted, "you could learn a lot from rafe, topper."

topper snorted, finally speaking up. "you have no idea who rafe cameron really is. you should see him when he’s out with us..." he shook his head, clearly amused, but your parents ignored him, too wrapped up in their admiration for the cameron family.

what did topper mean by that anyways?

your mom began to wrinkle her nose slightly, her smile faltering just a bit. "well, except for sarah," she added with a sharp edge to her tone. "i still don’t know what you ever saw in her, topper."

topper rolled his eyes, clearly irritated that the topic had shifted. "mom, we broke up ages ago. can you drop it?"

but she wasn’t letting it go, leaning forward as if to make her point crystal clear. "i’m just saying, she’s always been too self-centered, and frankly, she didn’t treat you the way you deserve. not to mention the way she ran around with those pogues after everything we did for her."

"okay, okay," topper cut her off, raising his hands in surrender. "we get it. can we move on now?"

your dad sighed, and your mom turned her attention back to you, her expression softening. "you should thank rafe properly," your mom added as if it were a decree. "maybe cook for him as you usually do for us."

"sure mom," you muttered, desperate to end the conversation. topper caught your eye, his smirk growing wider, and you shot him a glare that only made him chuckle.

"as a matter of fact, kelce and rafe are staying over tonight," topper said casually, leaning back in his seat like it was no big deal.

"what?" you asked, your fork clattering against your plate. really, a night of dealing with topper’s friends taking over the house?

your parents exchanged a glance, "well, remember your father and i planned to be out of the island tonight, so you both must hold down the house. again y/n, maybe cook for them—and bake something too. it would be a lovely gesture to thank rafe for being so kind to you last night."

"wait, what? why can’t they just order in?" you protested, already dreading the responsibility they were about to shove onto you.

your mom gave you a pointed look, as if the answer were obvious. "because it’s more thoughtful if you put in the effort yourself, y/n. it’s the least you can do."

you resisted the urge to groan and before you could argue further, topper chimed in, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "exactly, y/n, make us something good please. rafe and kelce will appreciate it,” he said, but you could tell from his smirk that he was thinking about himself, not them.

"you mean you’ll appreciate it," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him.

topper shrugged, completely unbothered. "maybe. but hey, if it keeps you from ordering random takeout, i’m all for it."

you leaned back into your seat, realizing you had no way out of this. and it was "exactly what you needed" which was going to be a night of acting like a housekeeper to topper and friends, all perfectly capable of taking care of themselves.

or was that all the night would have in store?

there you were standing in the kitchen later that evening, the sound of pots clattering and the smell of something savory filling the air. the counter was currently full of ingredients like bags of flour, bottles of spices, and a carton of eggs you hadn’t realized you’d left open until one nearly rolled off the edge. with a sigh, you grabbed it just in time and muttered underneath your breath how you couldn't believe you had to do this right now.

you could hear laughter coming from the living room, where topper, kelce, and rafe were laid across the couches, clearly having a good time doing absolutely nothing. their voices carried through the house, a mix of jokes and conversation, completely oblivious to the effort you were putting in.

you stirred the pot of sauce on the stove, the wooden spoon clinking against the sides, wondering for the tenth time why you hadn’t just ordered a pizza and called it a day. but no, your parents, mostly your mom, had made it clear this had to be a gesture.

as the timer beeped for the roasted vegetables, you quickly pulled the tray out of the oven, the steam fogging up in your face. you glanced at the clock, realizing you’d been in the kitchen for over an hour now.

part of you felt satisfaction at how the meal resulted, but another part was abound at the fact that it was all for topper and his friends, who probably wouldn’t even say thank you. still, you couldn’t help but wonder if rafe might notice the effort.

with everything finally done, you set the table, begrudgingly arranging plates and silverware for the four of you. the food looked good enough to belong in a restaurant: pasta with a rich, velvety sauce, golden garlic knots, roasted vegetables glistening with olive oil, and the cookies you’d baked resting on a plate at the center of the table.

"dinner’s ready!" you called out loudly.

topper, kelce, and rafe strolled in from the living room, clearly in no rush. topper plopped down at the head of the table, immediately reaching for a garlic knot. "about time," he said with a grin. "i was starving."

"you’re welcome," you annoyingly muttered, sliding into a seat across from rafe, who gave you a small nod of acknowledgment.

kelce wasted no time piling food onto his plate, mumbling something about you being "the best cook." topper, of course, claimed most of the pasta, though he didn’t forget to make a snarky comment about how you probably "overdid the seasoning." you chose to focus on your plate instead.

rafe, on the other hand, served himself modestly, gave the food an appraising glance, and said, "this looks really good, y/n. thanks for making all this."

you blinked, caught off guard by the genuine tone in his voice. "of course," you replied and the small smile tugging at your lips gave you away.

as the four of you ate, the conversation circled around, mostly driven by topper and kelce’s usual banter. but every so often, you’d catch rafe glancing your way, and you couldn’t quite catch what to make of it.

as the meal went on, you couldn’t help but notice that while rafe had started with a small portion, he was subtly piling more onto his plate every time the conversation picked up.

by the time kelce and topper were too busy arguing over the last garlic knot, rafe’s plate was stacked high with pasta and vegetables, his casual demeanor masking how much he’d actually eaten. it was almost funny, watching him quietly load up while the others were too wrapped up in their banter to notice.

it was also adorable, really. the way he tried to act casual about it, like he wasn’t completely going back for seconds, thirds, and even fourths. you caught yourself smiling a little as you watched him scoop another helping of pasta, his expression neutral as if he wasn’t practically inhaling your cooking. the contrast between his polite words earlier and his quiet enthusiasm now made you feel a weird mix of pride and amusement. he genuinely seemed to enjoy your meal, and it was pretty endearing.

the rest of the evening passed in a blur of distant laughter and muffled music coming from the living room where topper, kelce, and rafe had set up. after dinner, you decided to retreat to your room, relieved to have a bit of peace and quiet. with a cozy blanket and a show you’d been meaning to catch up on, you let yourself relax, determined to stay out of their way for the night.

eventually, the night felt calm enough for you to get a snack.

rubbing your eyes and tugging on a random hoodie, you sneaked into the kitchen. the entire house was mostly dark, the glow from the stove light casting soft shadows over the counters. you opened the fridge, scanning for anything quick and easy. maybe a leftover cookie, maybe a fruit. you chose to instead for a container on the counter, a sound behind you made you pause. you turned and saw a tall figure leaning casually against the doorway.

"late night snack?" rafe’s voice was low and calm, carrying a faint trace of amusement.

"what are you doing up?" you muttered, still holding the container of cookies.

he shrugged, stepping into the kitchen, his movements unhurried. "couldn’t sleep. topper and kelce are snoring like chainsaws," he said with a small smirk. "thought i'd grab a drink."

you gestured toward the cabinet where the glasses were kept, "you remember where we have everything right?"

“yup, but thanks,” he said, but instead of grabbing a glass, he leaned against the counter, watching you with an easy gaze. "figured you’d had enough of us for one night?"

"trust me, i did," you replied dryly, taking a bite of a cookie. "but i got hungry."

his smirk deepened, and he stepped closer, closing the small distance between you two. "you know, you did not have to go all out earlier. dinner was super tasty," he said, his voice softer now.

you blinked, caught off guard by the compliment, especially with how he was suddenly looking at you. "thanks...i'm really happy you appreciated it," you said, your voice quieter than you intended.

he took another step closer. his hand brushed the counter near yours, his proximity making your heart race.

you could feel the warmth radiating from him, the faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. his gaze flicked down to your lips briefly before meeting your eyes again.

"i meant it, you know," he said, his tone growing more thoughtful. "you’ve always had this… way of putting so much into everything you do. it’s something i’ve noticed for a long time."

his words hung in the air, heavy with a sincerity that made your chest tighten. you stared at him, seeing his expression was open and serious.

"you...really think that?" you asked, your voice quieter now.

"of course," he said, his gaze softening yet intensely on you. "you don’t see it, do you? how much you’re worth? the way you laugh, the way you stare, the way you care...even when your family does not even notice. but i do. i always have."

his words hit you hard, and you stared at him, his expression so open yet filled with an emotion you couldn’t quite place, making the space between you feel smaller than ever.

"rafe, i…" you began, but your voice faltered, with no idea how to respond to the pure honesty in his tone.

he let out a low, frustrated laugh, running a hand through his hair as he stepped closer, his movements suddenly deliberate, charged. "god, you’re so oblivious," he muttered, shaking his head. "do you even realize how long i’ve wanted this? wanted you?"

his words stunned you, the heat behind them leaving you breathless. "rafe, i had-"

he interrupted as his hands gripped your waist tightly as he pulled you toward him, his lips crashing onto yours with a kind of intensity that left no room for hesitation. it was urgent, insistent, like he’d been holding back for far too long and couldn’t anymore.

you gasped against his lips, but his hold on you was steady and grounding. he took this opportunity to plunge his tongue into your mouth, and he swirled his tongue around to explore, while also urging yours to meet with his. your hands instinctively clutched at his shoulders, letting yourself sink into the kiss, meeting his passion with yours and succumbing to his touch.

"rafe, no.." you moaned out to him as he began to trail a path of kisses down your neck as he tightly groped your behind, making you loudly gasp. he suddenly came face to face with you again. looking intensely into your eyes, "tell me you do not want this. we can stop this all right now." you held your ground, your gaze locking with his, matching the intensity in his eyes without faltering.

"you want this as much as i do. or else you wouldn’t be here...like this." he abruptly grabbed your neck, cradling it from behind, and pulled you in closer to him as he cupped your lower breast, causing you to audibly whimper.

he let out a chuckle, the sound loud and clear in your face, "you know…i always thought, with seeing you around all the time… and i thought about how innocent you were."

"but look at you right now." he said in a quiet, raspy tone as he began to trail his fingertips down from your chest, embracing every little part of your torso until he reached the waistband of your pants.

you felt utterly grounded in place, having the strongest urge to speak back to him but at the same time, you felt your arousal rising through your body from his touch. you noticed a sudden pooling in your crotch and were tightly clenching your legs together, desperate for touch, his touch.

he looks down at you fully and traces his eyes up and down, savoring the sight of you being visibly hungry and needy for him. he finally focuses his glance to below your waist and he again, traced his touch down your crotch until he felt contact with the area that would send waves of pleasure through you.

you couldn't help yourself but have your mouth loudly gasp and whimper as he began to firmly rub his two fingers up and down your clit in measured movements. as your sounds tore through, his hand quickly shot out, harshly covering your mouth. his grip was resolute, quieting you instantly as his intense gaze locked onto yours. leaning in close, his voice dropped to a low and raspy whisper, completely with authority, "don't make a noise. you don't want your big brother to see you right now...right?"

"with my hands like this..." he maintained that relentless, steady pace, his gaze fixed intently on you. he watched every subtle movement of your body, every tremor and vibration that reverberated from your muffled sounds against his hand. his eyes never left you, taking in the way he pulled wave after wave of sensation through you.

he abruptly stopped, and a soft whimper escaped your lips, pleading for him to continue, to keep massaging your needy folds with the same rhythm. he lowered his face in front of your ears and said, "bend over right now."

you shook your head quickly at his words, your heart racing. You knew it was wrong—being here, being touched by your brother's best friend—regardless, a part of you couldn't resist him. deep down, you knew you wanted this too, all along.

he gripped your shoulders and forcefully pressed you forward until your torso met the surface of the kitchen counter. the pressure of his hand on your back kept you in place, leaving no room for resistance as he leaned in closer, his need for you visible.

"you want to know a secret?" he asked, his voice soft, almost a whisper. you nodded, your curiosity piqued, heart beating faster with anticipation.

he leaned in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he spoke, "i watched you that day." he pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes searching yours, as though waiting for your response. you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"i was worried for you," he said softly, his voice filled with concern. "i heard noises coming from your room when i was trying to go to the bathroom."

you looked up at him, the tension in his words had your heart racing.

"i came closer to take a look," he continued, his gaze flickering away for a moment before locking with yours again. "and I thought, 'is that what i think it is?' but i also thought, no, not topper's little sister."

his words hung in the air, heavy and full of uncertainty. he took a deep breath before he spoke again. "then i opened the door very, very quietly, and saw you." his eyes darkened slightly, the intensity of the moment shifting.

he started to pull your pants down in a swift motion, your body tensed, instinctively trying to push him away, but before you could react, he grabbed your wrists, locking them together with a grip so strong you couldn't pull free. he pinned them to the table, his hold unyielding. the pressure of his touch sent a wave of heat through you, making your breath catch in your throat as you struggled to regain control.

"i watched you touch yourself, rubbing your sweet cunt in gentle motions. your legs were wide open facing towards the door, like you wanted me to watch you."

he started to rub through your soaked panties, "like this. and i watched you cum, watched you fully release yourself...oh, i will forever remember that."

"but you know what really got me? what you moaned when you were cumming. you wanna repeat it for me right now?" he continued the pace of his strokes against your heat and although you knew what to say, you stayed there, taking him.

you jolted forward and loudly gasped, which echoed through the kitchen, after rafe slapped your cunt. he harshly said and continued to stroke your cunt in a pleasurefully steady motion, "repeat it right fucking now."

you moaned out loud for him, "rafe...". he released that chuckle of his as he lowered himself, balancing on his knees. he buries his face into your wet area, securing his grip on your plush skin, digging into you.

with a slow, deliberate motion, he stuck his tongue flat onto your folds, pressing it gently. his tongue sank into your hole, the overflowing juices moving around your folds as he explored deeper with his tongue.

he paused for a moment, savoring the sweetness, his eyes briefly closing in enjoyment. as he stroked you with his tongue, his jaw worked steadily, and he started to roughly suck your clit into his mouth, flooding your senses with intense pleasure.

you quickly bucked your hips backward onto his face, beginning to subtly grind your pussy into his wet mouth, as he continued to glide his tongue over your folds that were soaked. you wanted more, you needed more. you quietly whimpered to him, "that feels so good, rafe."

heat building inside of you, your breathless moans coming out ragged. your hands instinctively rotate behind you, clutching at his head, fingers tightly grabbing his hair. you were trying desperately to push him off, but it only made him buried himself deeper.

"rafe, please...i could-"

your body quivered through your climax, each wave of pleasure consuming you, as beneath you, he continued the steady pace of his wet tongue thrusting into your throbbing hole, sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you and extending your climax.

"oh...yes, rafe!"

you moaned further as you felt the harsh sucking of him trying to taste all of you, and then the continuous licking through your folds to make sure he got all of it.

your body felt limp, the exhaustion from everything washing over you in waves. your breath came in shallow, uneven gasps as you sank into the feeling of release. rafe noticed, his eyes softening for a moment before his usual smirk returned. he lifted you with ease, his arms strong and secure around you.

"couldn’t hold on, huh?" he murmured, his voice thick with both amusement and something else—something you couldn’t quite catch.

you barely managed to nod, feeling a strange mix of vulnerability and something more in the air between you. he carried you effortlessly to your bedroom, each step deliberate as though he knew exactly what he was doing.

once inside, he lowered you gently onto the bed, making sure you were comfortable. his fingers lingered at your side, gently tucking the blanket around you, his touch soft yet deliberate. as he adjusted the covers, his eyes met yours, and for a brief moment, the teasing edge in his expression softened.

he leaned down, his breath brushing against your skin, and placed a slow, lingering kiss on your forehead. the warmth of his lips lingered even after he pulled away, his gaze still fixed on you with a quiet intensity. "sleep well," he whispered, his voice low and tender, the weight of his presence settling in the room.

"get some rest," he said, but the tone of his voice shifted, carrying a teasing undertone. he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "but don’t think i'll let you off easy next time."

taglist! - @purplerose291, @o0itsjustme0o, @gillybear17, @l1ttlesstar, @10ava01, @frankoceanluvr11, @mattyskies, @my-name-is-baby, @ironmakerperfection, @cherry-coloureddfunk, @hoelesslyt, @crazylady20, @itsyourmanjuno

[razrbladekiss]

MAPLE HAZEL | Joel Miller

SUMMARY: he’s grumpy, and you’ve got enough happiness for the pair of you. you visit joel’s little coffee shop every morning, and he can’t deny that he enjoys the monotony of life with you the other side of his counter.

PAIRING: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

WORD COUNT: 1.8k

WARNINGS: inspired by lorelai gilmore and luke danes, so with that info do what you will. this is full on golden retriever x black cat realness. fluffy. banter-y. dialogue-y. joel is grumpy but he’s sexy so we don’t mind. enjoy, my besties. not sure if i’ll do a part two, but i’ll let you know in due time, of course.🍁🫶🏻

SERIES MASTERLIST

It’s like he’s moving from muscle memory. Putting down a cinnamon roll and maple hazel latte—with two extra shots of espresso—in front of the third purple stool at his counter, is almost ingrained into his brain. He wonders if one day you’ll ever take him by surprise and order pancakes, or a chai tea.

And you will. Just not today.

“Cinnamon roll, please!” You call from the door as you bumble over the threshold, fighting with the belt loop on your coat that’s gotten stuck on a brassy handle for the third time this morning.

“Already one step ahead of ‘ya.” Joel gestures to the breakfast spread at the wooden bar, and you smile.

Despite being a closed-off, stupid-person-hating, placid-at-times, grumpy old man, you can’t help admitting that you enjoy Joel’s company and general presence in your life.

His shop appeared on Birch Grove one sunny Saturday morning about three years ago, and you haven’t skipped a day since. Aside from Christmas Day, you have religiously sat at Joel’s counter and shared the trials and tribulations of life in Dallas as an overzealous twenty-something every single day.

He’s a great listener. Or, at least, you think that he is. He never interrupts you, or speaks over you. Joel always lends an ear to listen, even if he doesn’t always say all that much in response to whatever it is that you’re elucidating or complaining about.

“Thank you.” Breathlessly, you say. You take a seat and dump your purse onto the counter. “Got a busy day today. I’ve got a meeting, and I’m meeting Maria for lunch, and I’ve got a date—“

Joel’s face heats up. He turns to face you, striving to stay indifferent.

“A date?” Nonchalant, he asks. He slings a dish-cloth over his shoulder, and lifts a brow. “Does this man know that he’s going on a date with you?”

You make a face while stuffing a fork-full of pastry into your mouth. He’s so smug. With his stupid flannel and stupid little hat, you just want to rip the complacency from his lips. But he’s a good man. Just likes to try and take you down a few pegs.

But he can’t. Because you’re stubborn. And a little annoying.

“No, I just thought that I’d show up at his house in the middle of the night—because I’ve followed him home from work a few times and know where he lives—and rip him right out of his bed just like the troll that Danny Devito plays in Its Always Sunny.”

Joel let’s out a little laugh, not bothering to argue that what you had just told him didn’t actually happen in that episode, but finding it funny nonetheless.

He nods his head to you. “What’s his name?”

“Marcus.” Exaggerating your heart-eyed gaze, you tell him. “I met him at Costco—“

“Ah, Costco. Where every great love story starts. First you’re bulk-buying toilet paper, the next you’re sharing a dollar fifty hot dog—“

“Ha ha, Joel, you’re soooo funny.”

“I try.” He says, flippant, pouring coffee into another customer’s cup when they appear at the counter for a refill. He lifts the carafe and gestures to your almost-empty mug. “Want another?”

Your gaze is set on your wristwatch. It’s seven twenty-nine, and you need to be at work for nine thirty. Mentally you strive to figure out how much more time you can spend at the cafe, before you’re having to leave to get there on time.

“Is it maple hazel flavored?”

Joel tilts his head, glaring at you.

You swig the dregs of latte in your mug, and then push the polka-dot ceramic across to him. “Please.” You say, shyly.

Joel busies himself with customers, and general business-owner things for a few minutes while you finish your cinnamon roll and coffee. You can’t help watching him.

Because he’s great. He’s very caring—though extremely stern at times—and you know that if you’re having a bad day, Joel is only a two minute and thirteen second walk away.

He feels the same, too. Kind of. He knows that you’ll be sauntering into his shop at some point every day, and finds himself looking forward to seeing your wide-eyed gaze and larger-than-life smile.

And though he won’t admit it in so many words, Joel has a soft spot for you. It hasn’t always been apparent—he thought that you were utterly insufferable and obsessive when he first met you—but he can’t deny the fact that his life would be very dull without you.

Even if you do have a tendency to try to get underneath his skin.

“Are you dating, Joel?”

He rolls his eyes.

“What? It’s a very normal question to ask somebody that hasn’t been in a serious relationship for an entire twelve months.”

He pulls the cloth from his shoulder and wipes at his hands. “You and I both know that I ain’t got no interest in settlin’ down with anyone. Not yet, anyway.”

“You were willing to with Tess.” Pushing things a little, you say. You lift the coffee mug to your lips when Joel opens his mouth to chastise you, but he can’t.

He can’t because you’re right. He can’t because he wanted to, once upon a time. Before Tess walked out of his life—not long after you started frequenting his shop—he wanted it all. A wife, kids, the white picket fence that his parents had back in Austin when he was a kid.

But it doesn’t always work out that way, and Joel has learned to live with the idea that if it’s too good to be true, then it most likely is.

“I can set you up with someone—“

“Not happening.” He says. “Last time you sent me on a blind date, the girl asked me if I was into pegging.”

You giggle. “Well? Are you—“

Joel says your name, glaring pointedly.

“Sorry.” Instinctively, your lips are set into a straight line. “But I can totally do better, this time. I know this girl—she works at this law firm—and—“

“Not interested.”

“Okay.” You smile, tight-lipped. You lift your mug, striving for your third cup of coffee this morning.

Joel pours the liquid gold into the cup, before he’s telling you that he’s not going to be giving you another for fear of you ricocheting off of each wall in his place.

“You’ll turn into a cup ‘a coffee one day.”

Nodding—with a completely content smile—you say; “least I’ll be happy.”

“You’re always happy.” Joel mithers to himself, turning away. It’s one thing that he admires about you, though loathes at the same time.

Endless optimism and positivity is only something that he can long for, because he’s simply not capable of it. It baffles him how you are, especially when he’s—on occasion—so rude to you. So miserable, and cold, and completely undeserving of your friendship.

He likes that you’re so forgiving. That—even after he accidentally offended you last summer when making a comment about your then boyfriend—you can never hold a grudge, especially when it comes to him.

Because you both hold one another on a pedestal so high, neither can seem to do anything to tear themselves down. And Joel really enjoys your daily routine. That’s why he’s never not in the shop.

“You got any weekend plans?”

“Never do.”

You stretch out your arms—intertwining your fingers as you do to make them click—and offer a small smile when he cringes.

“You wanna catch a movie?” Shirking the idea that you have a date tonight—with a man who you really aren’t all that interested in, you’re just being nice—you propose.

Joel’s heart starts to beat at a tempo that’s noticeably quicker than usual. Not a lot, but it’s certainly faster.

“I think that the theatre downtown is showing the original Beetlejuice, on Saturday.”

He nods, approving. “I—uh—I’ll have to get someone to cover—“

“I’m sure you can ask your brother. Or maybe Maria?”

“I ‘spose.” Reluctant, he says. “But what about Michael? What if he wants a second date?”

“Well, his name is Marcus. And if he wants a second date—which I doubt he will—then he’ll just have to live with the fact that I have plans with a friend on Saturday night.”

He hopes that you can’t see him blush.

“Won’t it be weird?”

“Why?”

“We hardly speak outside of the shop.”

“God, Joel.” You throw your head back, laughing. “We’re the same people wherever we are. And we’re going to the movies—not a lot of talking takes place there, hon.”

His nostrils flare at your sarcasm, but mainly at the little pet name. Joel knows that you’re sweet—that you often use those terms of endearment when speaking with those that you care about—but it does something to him.

Something that he does not like.

“You can either come, or stay here and be miserable because you have no social life, or no girlfriend, or no other friends aside from me, your brother, and your brother’s wife—“

“Alright, fine.” Joel stops your miniature hate-train, and puts his hands against the counter. Your eyes zone in on the veins embellished within tan skin—how prominent they are when he’s fronting irritation—and let out a small sigh.

He’d be a lot more handsome if he smiled more, you think.

“So.” You paw at your purse, pulling it off the wood. “I’ll let you know what time the showing is, and we can make plans around that.”

Joel rounds the island and follows you as you pad toward the door, veritably sweating. “Plans?” He asks. “You never said nothin’ ‘bout plans. I thought we were just gonna catch a movie?”

“We are.” You tell him. “But we need to buy snacks, and grab dinner before we go—“

“Now you’re just describing a date.”

You shake your head. “No, I’m describing hanging out with a friend, Joel.”

“A friend?”

“An acquaintance…?” Testing the waters, you ask. Your eyes squint a bit, awaiting his retort.

But he just smiles.

“A friend.”

You smile back. Bigger.

“Perfect.” Your purse is slinging over your shoulder, and you pull your jacket to close so that the darned loops don’t get stuck on the door handle. Again. “I can’t wait.”

“It’ll be…nice.”

“Jeez, Joel. At least try to sound enthused.”

His hands shoot up in defense. “I am. Just have a hard time showin’ it.”

Your head nods. “I know. I’m only kidding. It’s nobody’s fault that you’re the human equivalent of Oscar The Grouch—“

“Alright, get out.” He holds open the door for you, smiling tight-lipped as he watches you leave. “Enjoy your meeting. And your lunch. And your date.”

You chuckle, thanking him with another bright smile.

“See you in the morning, Joel.”

“Yeah, yeah.” You step onto the sidewalk—that’s festooned with red and orange leaves as the tree above starts to shed its skin—turning to wave at him. “See ‘ya, kiddo.”

[pastryfication]

Can you please do Oscar x reader, who's birthday is coming up but she doesn't want to celebrate or acknowledge it?

I'm that way. My birthday is on the 30th. 🥺

happy birthday!!! i hope you have an amazing day, love xx

this is my gift to you ❤️🥳

birthday celebrations | oscar piastri

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

content warnings: oscar being the perfect boyfriend.

you wake up to the soft light filtering through the curtains, the warmth of your blanket cocooning you against the world outside.

you snuggle deeper into the bed, just wanting to hide. today is your birthday, a day you’ve dreaded for as long as you can remember. birthdays have never been your thing—too much fuss, too many expectations. you’d rather it pass like any other day, quiet and unremarkable. but your boyfriend has other plans.

you hear the faint clatter of pots and pans in the kitchen and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee wafting through the air. curiosity piques, and you pull yourself out of bed, padding softly to the source of the noise.

and there he is, oscar, standing by the stove, a look of concentration on his face as he prepares your favorite breakfast—fluffy pancakes with strawberries and jam. he turns, catching sight of you, and his face lights up with a smile that melts your reluctance just a little.

“happy birthday, love,” he says, coming over to kiss your forehead. you try to protest, to remind him that you don’t want a big deal made out of today, but he hushes you gently.

“just a simple breakfast,” he insists, guiding you to the table.

breakfast is a cozy affair, the two of you sitting close together at the small kitchen table. the pancakes are perfect, made exactly like you love them, and the berries are sweet and fresh. oscar keeps the conversation light, steering clear of any mention of birthdays or celebrations. he knows you too well, and it makes your heart swell with gratitude.

after breakfast, oscar insists on a lazy morning. he pulls you back to bed, rewrapping you in a cocoon of blankets and his arms. the two of you spend hours cuddling, watching your favorite shows, and simply enjoying each other's company. his constant attention and gentle touches make you feel cherished, and you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren't so bad when spent like this.

the day slowly unfolds in a series of small, thoughtful gestures. oscar dotes on you, bringing you tea while you read and stealing kisses when he thinks you aren’t paying attention. he suggests a walk in the park, knowing how much you love the feel of the sun on your face and the rustle of leaves underfoot, and you walk hand in hand through your favourite park.

as the evening approaches, you start to worry about what he might have planned. you’ve made it clear you don’t want a party, and oscar has always respected your wishes, but birthdays make you wary. he sees the tension in your shoulders and wraps his arms around you from behind.

“i know you don’t want a big celebration,” he murmurs into your ear, “but i thought a quiet dinner with a few of your closest friends might be nice. just us, no fuss.”

you turn to face him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit. all you see is his genuine desire to make you happy, and it softens your resolve. you nod, agreeing to the dinner, trusting that he’ll keep it simple.

when your friends arrive, the atmosphere is warm and intimate, just as oscar promised. there’s no grand entrance nor any loud singing, just the comfort of familiar faces and easy conversation. you find yourself relaxing, enjoying the evening more than you expected. the dinner is delicious, the laughter infectious. you catch oscar’s eye across the table, and he gives you a wink that makes your heart flutter.

as the night winds down, and your friends start to leave, you realize that today hasn’t been so bad. in fact, it’s been kind of wonderful. oscar walks you to bed, his hand in yours, and you snuggle into his side, feeling a contentment you hadn’t anticipated.

“thank you,” you whisper, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“for what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

“for making today special,” you reply, “without making it too much.”

he smiles, pulling you closer. “anything for you, my love.”

and as you drift off to sleep, you think that maybe, just maybe, birthdays aren’t so terrible after all.

[harrysfolklore]

my favorite fics, vol 6

it’s been a while since the last time i posted a fic rec masterpost ! here are my favorite fics i’ve read recently (i’m doing one for tom soon) enjoy !

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

fluff:

perception by @goldengalore

harry styles talking about his girlfriend for 16 minutes by @astranva

afterparty by @chaoticloving

favorite holiday by @tsumtsumrry (has smut)

knight in shinning armor by @fetusharryluvr

just called to say i love you by @harrywritingsbyme

bad habit by @ifancyharry

maple syrup, coffee, pancakes for two by @itsallyscorner

when you fall in love by @avatar-anna

serendipity by @adorebeaa (has smut and angst)

pinky swear by @inyourhaven

italy by @bonesandchalamet

5 ways harry mentions you on stage by @glitteredrry

my love, we were in paris by @alonetimelover

sweet nothings by @pancakes4two

get enough by @theshyspy

this insta blurb by @llvstrous099

dynamic by @mydearesthrry

the pact by @harryslittlefreakk

oh, i think she said by @justmeinatree

routines by @elioslover

coffee talk by @itsallyscorner

finally a dad by @flwrsforu

bo peep by @haarrrys

this by @harryyskiwii

angst:

little freak by @goldenbuckyyy

i wish i could change by @cowboy-like-mee

argument by @secret-rendezvous1d

don’t let me down by @itsprashimusic

false god by @sleepyhollands

airport chaos by @musicforastylesrestaurant

this by @alonetimelover

if you love something by @writingsfromhome

home is a feeling by @adore-laur

smut:

italian sun by @harry-on-broadway

no guarantee by @allofurlove

we fight, we make up by @strawnarrries

bad idea, right? by @atharryshouse

private show by @stylesharrys

bad idea right by @lukesaprince

under his bed by @gurugirl

tease by @eveningepiphany

just a little taste by @stylescine

series:

begin again by @sweetcherryharry

ifall for harry by @freedomfireflies

the divorce by @butdaddyilovehim-hs

stages of grief by @missmielyhoran

somebody else by @harrystylescherry

ms honey by @solarisstyles

[ariestrxsh]

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

⚠️ content warning: ⚠️ smut, sneaking around, risky, oral, teasing, degradation, humiliation, edging, orgasm denial, shower sex, creampie, roughdom!matt, brattamer!matt, bratty!reader, enemies to lovers

📝 author's note: 📝 this is part of a series, and here are parts one, two, and three. it's not necessary to read the other parts, but it makes the story better and adds to the dynamic between the characters. 💖 there will be more parts to this.

✍️ Summary: ✍️ You and Matt continue sneaking around right under his brothers' noses despite the fact that the two of you hate each other.

.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫・゜🚿・。.・✫

hatef--k part four

I threw my clothes and my vibrator into my big tote bag, along with a phone charger and some snacks from my pantry. I was still in shock that Matt had seen me packing my favorite sex toy and then relentlessly teased me with it. And the bastard didn't even let me cum.

I angrily stomped to his car and resentfully got into it. I could feel every bump as we drove over it, every vibration from the way the tires hit the pavement beneath us, and it was pure torture as I sat there, unfinished.

"You know, I should tell Nick your water is back on, and you lied to him," Matt broke the silence, clicking his tongue at me and shaking his head. "You won't," I called his bluff. "Oh yeah? What makes you so sure?" He narrowed his eyes. "Because you love it when I prance around your house half-naked and tease you until you can't take it anymore. You want me to stay with you guys longer," I told him, reading him like a book. He didn't say anything, but he shot a smile that confirmed my suspicion. All doms are the same. Most of their threats that don't benefit them are empty.

We pulled into the driveway, and as we walked into the house, Matt shut the door in my face again. I rolled my eyes, stopping it with my hand. I set my tote bag down next to the couch in the living room, and when Matt and I stepped into the kitchen, we were greeted by Chris who was home attempting to make pancakes, but instead of flipping them with a spatula, he was flipping them into the air and trying to catch them in the frying pan. "Chris! You're making breakfast for four people. We don't have pancakes to waste," Nick scolded him, pointing the spatula at him.

"Good to see you guys survived the night alone together. I thought, for sure, based on how pissed Matt was about you staying here, he was gonna choke you out or something," Chris joked, cracking open an egg into a bowl. "Yeah, he tried, but he was too much of a bitch to finish the job," I smirked at Matt.

"Do either of you want coffee?" Nick offered, holding up a french press. "Yes, please," Matt and I both responded in unison, but we both shot each other a glare, resenting the other for answering the same way. Nick poured us each a cup of coffee, and we all fixed our plates and sat around the kitchen table together. "You guys really are the nice ones. Thank you so much for making breakfast for us," I said. It was a compliment to Nick and Chris, but even more than that, it was a slight towards Matt. I was still very angry about the sex toy incident.

"Of course. Anytime. You're our guest," Nick replied. "So what did you guys do last night when you had the house to yourselves?" Chris said before taking a bite of his hashbrowns. Matt and I shot each other a glance. "I watched The Bachelorette," I told them, taking a sip of my coffee. "And I played video games in my room," Matt said without looking up from his food. "You mean, you guys sat on opposite sides of the house.. and ignored each other?" Nick questioned, looking skeptically at us. "I find that hard to believe because any time you two are in the same vicinity, you pick on each other," Nick said with an eyebrow raised.

"Yeah, well when I went to shower.." I started to say, but then I stopped myself. Matt delivered a swift kick under the table and hit me in the shin. "Oh, just for that, I'm telling them," I looked towards Matt and then I turned to his brothers, "Matt thought it would be funny to take my towel amd hide it while I was showering." I took a sip of my coffee and looked back over at Matt, who was looking at me like he wanted to kill me. Please punish me for that one later, I silently begged him with my eyes.

"Matt! What the fuck?" Nick asked with a look of disgust. "Bro, that's weird," Chris shook his head. I secretly liked embarrassing Matt in front of his brothers and getting them both on my side. It was as harmless as Matt taking my towel and my clothes, right? "It's fine. He gave it right back to me," I told them, smiling and taking a bite of my eggs.

We continued to eat our breakfast, and once we were done, Chris volunteered Matt and me to clean up since he and Nick made breakfast. I was happy to oblige, considering the boys were being so kind and letting me stay with them, and Matt begrudgingly agreed. "Plus, it'll give you guys more alone time together, so you can hopefully overcome your differences," Nick chuckled. Little did he know, the only time Matt and I could ever overcome our differences was long enough to fuck each other's brains out. Chris and Nick both headed upstairs, leaving Matt and me in the kitchen by ourselves.

Matt immediately backed me up against the counter and got into my face. "You like making me look like a fucking perv in front of my brothers, huh?" He growled quietly next to my ear, while he started to take his hand and press it against my mound. "You are a perv," I shot back. "Yeah, but you fucking love it," Matt gruffly said, applying more pressure. I could feel the edge of the counter digging into my back as Matt fondled me. I could feel myself growing weak.

"Let's get these off of you, you little whore," Matt grumbled while he started to pull down my pants. I was still wet from the vibrator incident earlier. He picked me up by my waist and set me on the counter. I felt the cold, hard granite underneath me as he placed me. He looked up intently into my eyes as he got down onto his knees, wrapped his strong arms around my thighs, and held them apart further.

I watched in anticipation as he flattened his tongue and started tickling my clit with it. I tried to seem like I wasn't dying for it, but I couldn't keep my equanimity. My moans got away from me with every stroke of his remarkable tongue. His soft lips engulfed me, and he hummed against my favorite nerve endings while I watched his eyes roll back as he savored my taste. I secretly loved the way he ate pussy, like he wanted it, like he needed it. "Mmmm. You're such a naughty girl. You're loving this, aren't you?" He said, his lips vibrating against my sex. "Not as much as you," I joked. He started to gently nibble on my clit, and I started tugging on his hair. My legs locked around his head as he worked wonders with his mouth below my waist.

"You like it when I eat you while my brothers are upstairs? They could come down any minute and catch us," he muffled against my pussy. All I could do was nod and bite my lip as I tried to suppress the sounds I so desperately wanted to let loose. "Slut. I bet if Nick and Chris walked down here right now and saw what we were doing, you'd squirt all over my tongue, wouldn't you, used up little whore," he smirked. And he was right. The idea of being caught was enticing. I felt like I was at the edge of more than just the countertop, but before I could enjoy the sensation and fully sink into it, Matt was pulling away.

"No, no, no," I whined, gripping his locks of hair. "Please don't do this to me again," I begged him, chasing the feeling of his tongue, desperate for sweet release. He looked up at me, taunting me. "Not after you were such a bad girl for tattling on me to Nick and Chris," he grinned menacingly. His mouth glistened from nearly devouring me. "I'll do anything," I pleaded. "Yeah, anything but behave," he scolded me, bringing himself to his feet and wiping his face.

"You can finish cleaning the kitchen. I'm gonna go play video games," he replied, handing me back my pants. "The fuck I am. You're not gonna help me clean?" I angrily shot back. "No, and if you tell Nick or Chris that I didn't help you, I'll make sure they accidentally stumble upon your vibrator while you're here," Matt sneered. "Fuck you, asshole," I said under my breath as Matt was walking away. He immediately turned back around and brutally grabbed me by the neck. "Keep going and I won't let you cum tonight either," he snarled.

"And clean your pussy juice off the counter. People cook there," he said to me as he released me from his intense grip and disappeared out of the room. I quickly put my underwear and pants back on and finished cleaning the rest of the kitchen.

"So, how was cleaning the kitchen with Matt? Did you guys bond?" Nick sat down on the couch next to me several hours later while I was curled up scrolling on my phone. "Yeah, something like that," I blankly answered. "What's wrong? I can tell something is up with you," Nick replied. Oh, you know, Nick, your brother just keeps edging me and then ruining my climax. That's what's wrong. But of course, I couldn't say that, so I settled for a dramatic sigh and instead said, "You know, I'm just getting impatient with this whole water situation. You guys are really great for letting me stay here. I just can't help but feel like I'm intruding on your space."

"We want you here, silly. Even if your water weren't out, we'd probably still be hanging out with you," Nick reassured me. And it made me feel bad about lying in the first place. We sat next to eachother, laughing at memes until the sun started to set.

"It's getting late. I'm gonna start getting ready for bed," I relayed to Nick. We stood up and hugged each other. I thanked him again for his kindness, and he thanked me for my company. "By the way, I'm sleeping down here on the couch tonight. You can have my bed again," Nick offered. I couldn't let him. Not when I knew I'd be sneaking into Matt's room and falling asleep next to him anyway. "Nick, you're too sweet. But really, I think we should make Matt sleep down here and I can take his bed. Payback for him being a dick last night," I gave Nick a really sincere face. "That's a great idea actually," Nick's face lit up. "Don't worry, I'll tell him," I smiled.

I made my way to the bathroom with my towel, my clothes, and my vibrator. I started running the shower and once the water was hot enough to get in, I stood beneath the stream of warmth, vibrator in hand. Overcome by the incredible feeling of finally releasing pressure that had build up all day, I didn't even hear Matt come in until he was pulling back the curtain. My eyes shot open and I scrambled to shut off my toy.

"Awh. Trying to finish without me?" Matt chuckled, standing in front of me completely naked. "What are you doing?" I whispered to Matt, covering myself with the shower curtain. Bastard ruined my orgasm again. "I came to shower with you," he smiled. He got in and immediately pushed me up against the shower wall. "I think I've been keeping you waiting long enough," he gruffed into my ear as he propped my left leg onto the side of the tub.

He lined up his hardening cock with my entrance and inserted it in a brutal manner. I let out a small yelp as I felt him start violently bucking his hips. "Take my cock, you little whore," he rasped while my walls stretched around him. He grabbed onto my hair and yanked it hard while his cock grew to its full potential.

"Hey, sorry to bother you while you're showering, but did you see Matt anywhere before you got in?" Nick asked poking his head in through the bathroom door. "No, I didn't," I responded, biting my lip to hold back another satisfied sound and trying not to blow our little secret behind the shower curtain. "Have you noticed he's been acting strange lately?" Nick pondered out loud while Matt pounded into me from behind. "Stranger than normal? Kid's a freak," I snarked, and Matt started to fuck me harder for the jab I made at him to Nick, and he held his hand over my mouth to shut me up.

"Yeah, I've noticed he's been kind of distant from Chris and me, and he's been even meaner to you than normal. I just worry he may be going through something," Nick responded sounding worried. Oh, he's going through something alright, I thought to myself as Matt bottomed out in me, thrusting against my gspot with incredible force.

"If you see him, will you let him know I'm looking for him?" Nick asked, but while Nick said this Matt was whispering into my ear quietly enough for only me to hear, "Cum on my cock, you naughty fucking whore," while he released his hand from my mouth so I could respond to Nick. "Yes, Matt," I slipped up. My eyes widened when I realized my error. "Did you just call me Matt?" Nick inquired, chuckling. "Sorry, Nick. I mispoke," I held myself together long enough to correct my mistake.

Just then, Matt reached up and covered my mouth with his palm again, grabbing me even more roughly than before while we came in tandem, both our orgasms tearing through us silently. My eyes rolled back, and it took everything in my power to not scream Matt's name while I throbbed around him. Matt's cock twitched, depositing his seed inside of me while Nick stood in the doorway telling me to enjoy my shower and giving me shit for calling him the wrong name. When we heard the door shut and Nick leave, Matt chuckled and said, "You're so hot for finishing on my cock while Nick was in the room. You're such a naughty girl."

"You're hot for making me wait so long for that. By the way, Nick and I talked about it. I'm taking your room tonight. Have fun sleeping on the couch," you smirked back at him breathlessly while the two of you finished your shower.

taglist: @sturniolo-girl @st9niolos @theyluvme-2315 @luvs4matt @ribread03 @slutforsturnioloss @thepubeburgler @schlutt4matty @valkatriee @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @witchofthehour @alexisxena

part five posted here 💖

[harrysmimi]

Finally Your Husband

Coffee And Pancakes series P16

Synopsis: YN and Harry tie the knots together in an intimate and private ceremony in Italy and they get to hear an amazing news.

Series Master list | More of My Work

YN was nervous.

She was on brink of having a breakdown. Everything was turning out to be so perfect yet everyone was giving her a big hard time.

The way her grandma wasn't attending was a cherry on top for her but her parents were attending. The way it was the people who loved and respected her boundaries and parents giving her a hard time taunting her every little choice. A few of her cousins were attending too, and most of them YN hated. It was just amazing and hell on earth at the same time. They were Harry's Italian villa where he proposed to her.

One of her cousin got drunk and almost tore his scrotum while dancing during one of the pre-wedding ceremonies. Niall was a real helper driving him to the nearest hospital. And two of her other cousins threw a fit of fight when they found out they were wearing the same outfit.

The pre wedding ceremonies were lowkey too. It was a whole week long spiel and a half.

"I don't know why I am nervous!" She whined on the phone with her soon to be husband, her eye welled up with tears. She was all ready and they were just fifteen minutes away from being married.

There was going to be two ceremonies back to back and long night of partying.

"Baby." Harry cooed, "just fifteen minutes okay?"

While he tried his best to assure her everything is going to be fine, it wasn't putting her at ease. Her life was about to change for good.

Just a few years ago she wasn't even interested in seeing anyone (she in fact hated the idea) and now here she is about to marry the love of her life. Everything between fear and pure ecstasy was just running in rounds in her head.

Harry was just two stories down from where she was but she couldn't go see him. YN was having a breakdown. She was nervous thinking what possibly could go wrong as everything has been so smooth sailing.

On the other hand, Harry was nervous indeed but he could manage himself. He had just gotten into his suit as he was done with his hair.

He got a call from Brielle, stating he need to go see his wife (soon-to-be) now. She was having a breakdown. He had quickly put on his coat and headed to where his wife-to-be was.

"Oh my god!" He whispered to himself as he saw her sitting there on the edge of the bed all ready and dolled up, she took his breath away. Even though she was crying. "Angel, you look breath taking!"

She was wearing a white lehenga, and covered in gorgeous jwellery, a soft makeup look with a bold lip.

And that made her son too. "I broke this." She showed him the chain he got her for one of her birthdays and she wanted to wear it as it was so special. It wasn't going to be visible with all the jewelry she was wearing, but still she'd know she is wearing it.

"Hey, it's alright my love." He cooed as he sat next to her. "It's alright. We can get that fixed."

"I wanted to wear it." She managed to whisper between her sobs. "You gave it to me on my birthday."

"I know, but-" he was cut off when YN's brother's wife, Jasmine came in with a sewing box.

"I knew this was going to be handy- oh Harry?" She was quite surprised. "I am sorry, I should have knocked but she is crying."

"No, it's fine." Harry assured her.

"Look we are going to fix it okay for now?" She took YN's necklace. Soon after her mother walked in as well. She helped Jasmine fix the necklace. They just tied the broken ends with a piece of things thread. It wasn't a permanent solution but it was going to work for now. "Come here let me put this on." Jasmine even put it on for her and even attempted to fix her makeup too.

Harry watched the way her mum looked at her. They both looked exactly the same he figured. He just wished she would have spoken with her then, he could tell she wanted to. She had tears in her eyes seeing her daughter as a bride. It just broke his heart a little.

"I will come and get you in a while. And Harry you probably have to be there in a few minutes too." Jasmine informed both, soon her and YN's mum left.

"Hey, you good?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, I am sorry." She mumbled, "I think I'm about to get my period. I don't know why I am crying so much."

"Don't say that." He pulled her in for a hug, "you don't have to say that. It's a big day, and it's okay to feel this way."

"This is so overwhelming." She mumbled against his chest.

"I know, but it'll be alright. I'm right here with you, yeah?"

It had just been five minutes Harry had to go out as the ceremony would begin. First it was the traditional Indian way. And then it was Niall officiating their wedding. Everything went as smoothly as possible. Soon YN realised she was panicking for nothing everything was just perfect.

They both cried twice as she walked down the aisle twice.

"You may kiss your bride, Harold." Niall announced as he stepped away.

Harry was quick to pull his wife in as he picked her lips gently before he got her in a bear hug. YN wrapped her arms around him

Her husband has been by her side for the entire day. It was time for their first dance.

"I can't believe we are married now." She said they both swayed to the soft music playing.

Harry leaned down to kiss her forehead. "Mhmm. I am finally your husband."

"Yeah? I am your wife now." She couldn't help but smile sheepishly at him.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" He got flustered seeing her watch him with love heart eyes.

"Can you kiss me?" She asked.

"You know I will." With that he pressed his lips on hers, not shying away that her parents and brother are present there like they used to. She's his woman now and he is her man. "I love you so much!"

"I love you so much!" She reciprocated.

The rest of the night was flawless. Niall and Zayn got drunk off their arse as they danced to Gasolina for the fifth time. The food was amazing.

"You're not going to have anything to drink?" YN asked her husband.

"No, I am done. Had a glass of wine." He shared as he pulled her closer to his side as he watched his former band mates dance like idiots. "Want to stay present." He pressed a kiss on her head.

"Awh!" She cooed.

"Come on guys!" Gemma pulled them both to the dance floor, she was halfway hammered too there. They had a very fun night.

Harry was still on the dance floor as YN retrieved back feeling tired as her adrenaline started to wear off slowly but surely. Her husband wasn't drunk but he was having fun like his friends if not more.

Soon people started leaving to go back to their accommodations and it was just the close family left there to clean up a bit before everyone headed back. As it was Harry's (now theirs) villa all the bride and groom had to do was walking up the stairs to their bedroom.

It was all decorated with pretty candles and flowers. "Oh see the mood is already set for us." Harry announced as he hugged his wife from behind. "To be honest, this wasn't needed I had my eye on you since this morning." He had been worked up all night, actually all day. She looked absolutely dead drop gorgeous in that dress and she is wife now. That all together new feeling.

YN was quick to turn around in his arms. "Yeah?"

"Mhmm." He nodded and pecked her lips gently.

"This is going to be a big hassle to get out of." She reminded him that she is wearing a Lehenga with hundreds if not thousands of pins holding it together.

"Don't worry we have all the time in the world." He assured her as his hand went up her back behind her Chunni as he tugged onto the string of her blouse.

On a serious note, he did help her get out of the heavy outfit. They had a great laugh as it kept tugging on one thing or another. YN finally got out of the lehenga. He was also just in his trousers by now.

"You were wearing sweat pants underneath that the white day?" Harry giggled.

"Yes! And I was still cold." She pouted as she took off her bangles as she was sat on the bathroom counter.

"Awh, my baby!" He cooed, "let's hand this up, yeah?" He nicely hung up the fit on the designated hanger carefully and hung it over the bathroom door. "Now where were we." He went back to her, stepping between her legs.

"Where were we?" She placed the last of the bangles she took off in their designated box as she looked up at him.

"I'd rather show you." With his arms wrapped around her waist he picked her back and walked back to their bed. She laughed feeling his fingers dig into her side tickling her. He gently placed her on the bed as hovered over her pressing his mouth to hers. His hands wandered on her back to unhook her blouse she still had on. "This okay?"

"Yes." She nodded, her hands on his hips as he helped her out of the blouse that's when she noticed the bulge. She was quick to unbuckle his belt and get rid of his pants.

"No let me do the work now." He stopped her, reaching down to the waist band of her sweats and sliding them down with her panties. He got down on his knees as his lips left a trail of soft and eager kisses down her neck to her stomach to her inner thighs. YN let out a soft moan as she felt his mouth on her, his tongue teasing her bud.

Soon enough she was pulling him back to her, he was quick to press his mouth on hers. Her juices are still on his mouth as he pushes his tongue in her mouth, flawlessly dominating over their very heated moment.

"I want your cock in me now." She demanded, propping herself up on her elbows.

He chuckled softly as he undid his trousers and took off his boxers. "Very demanding, aren't we?" He was back on top of her. He lines his tip against her weeping hole as he pushes inside her with ease. "Can never get over the feeling of your pussy on my cock, baby!" He groans softly with his forehead on hers.

YN just let out a soft moan holding onto his shoulders. "Want it to be soft this time." She whispered.

"Mhmmm." He agrees moaning as he could feel her walls pulsing around him.

"Fuck! Right there!" She gasped feeling his cock plunging in her softly yet firmly.

"Yeah, you like it baby?" He looked at her before pecking her lips, earning a nod of satisfaction from her. "That's it baby, lay back and relax. Gonna take care of my wife!"

YN laid back on bed. Harry was quick enough to grab the pillow for her before she rested her head back, not forgetting to keep on with his slow and firm thrusts. Dipping his head down he latched his mouth on her hardened nipple, whilst his hand was busy kneading the other making her back arch.

"Oh yes!" She moaned softly again, gasping for air as she floated away in pleasure.

"Oh yes baby, you gonna cum?" He looked at her again.

"Yeah. I want you to cum in me." She requested. This isn't the first time.

"Yeah? You want me to cum in you baby?" He said getting his hand down to rub her clit making her jolt in surprise.

"Yes please!" She sighed.

"Yeah, almost there baby, urgh!" He thrusts were getting harder and harder as he couldn't hold it back, feeling her pulsing harder around him. Soon he was releasing his load in her pussy with the last few thrusts. "Fuck that was amazing!" He chuckled, still inside her.

"Yeah." She pulled him down for a kiss. "I love you so much Harry!"

"I love you so much!" He kissed again. Rolling over he pulled her in closer. "We are finally married."

"Mhmm." She nodded, looking at him with tired yet love-heart eyes. "We're married now, I can't wait to grow old with you!"

"Yeah? I promise I will love you even after we're seventy." He mumbled softly against her forehead before pressing another kiss on her skin. It was a joke as they danced to Thinking Out Loud by Ed, making her giggling.

"Oh you better!" She warned him.

"You know I will, baby!" He pushes back to look at her, "do you want to get cleaned up and go to sleep?"

"Mhmm." She nodded.

Harry was quick enough to help her get cleaned and helped her get into one of his t-shirts before they were off to bed.

.......................................................................

Harry woke up feeling super hot for some reason, he back was all sweaty as YN slept closer to him, her face buried in his back.

"Baby?" Harry carefully turned around and moved closer to her wife who was still asleep but shivering and burning up. That was enough to get him out of sleep in an instance. "Baby, you alright?"

"Hmmm?" She sounded.

"You're burning up my love." He whispered.

"Yeah I am cold. I just want to sleep." She mumbled. The worst thing about her was how she managed to sleep through fever.

"Let's go see a doctor first, yeah?" He suggested, "you can sleep when we get back."

"Can we go later?" She mumbled again, pulling the blanket over her mouth and curling up even more.

"Babe, come on now. You're burning up." He insisted, "I promise we'll make it as quick as possible, yeah?"

"I- fine we'll-." She ran off to the toilet and started throwing up.

"Oh no." Harry mumbled as he rushed to her and held her hair back and rubbed her back. "It's alright sweetheart. We'll go see a doctor."

Harry was quick to drive her to the nearest hospital, they were asked to wait luckily there was no rush there and they got in without an appointment. The doctor did a basic physical exam.

"Have you eaten anything recently which might upset your stomach?" The doctor asked as he documented in his computer.

"No, I have been eating healthy for our wedding." YN explained.

"Oh congratulations!" The doctor smiled, "don't worry we'll look into it. Have you tried taking a pregnancy test?"

"Not recently." YN shrugged, suddenly feeling anxious as she looked at her husband. "But I'd be open to one if we can do it here."

"Sure." The doctor nodded. "We'll also get the blood work done if necessary too."

"Yeah. Thank you." YN nodded.

Soon enough a nurse guided the couple to a room where YN can take the pregnancy test in privacy. She was nervous and she was already crying.

"It's okay baby." Harry tried his best to calm her down as they waited for the longest five minutes. "What does it say?"

"It's positive." She started sobbing.

"Oh my god!" He was quick to pull her in the tightest hug ever.

"We're going to be Mummy and Papa!" She mumbled as she sobbed.

"Yeah!" Harry rocked her side to side in excitement.

That was the happiest moment of YN's life there but she was still burning up with fever. Doctor gave her some mild medicines to take and advised her to rest as much as she can.

That's exactly what Harry made her do. He drove her back home to their Villa. Made her feel all comfy as he fixed her a quick meal.

They postponed their honeymoon until YN feels better and is fit to travel and spend their time in and resting and taking in the news.

......................................................................

@vrittivsanghavi @buckymydarlingangel @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @sleutherclaw @melllinaa @michellekstyles @sunshinemoonsposts @marialikescherries @onlyangelrihana @supersanelyromantic @haarrrys @originalsoulcollector @lomlhstyles @im-an-overthinker @tenaciousperfectionunknown @stilesissaved @allthelovehes @sunshinemoonsposts @harryssky1 @sofia-faustina @stylesfever @reputationolivia @kittenhere

[joelalorian]

Fall Into Me

dbf!Joel x f!reader

The first TLOU fic I ever read was a dbf!Joel story and it left an indelible mark on my soul. Unfortunately, I never bookmarked it so I have no idea which one it was. It's only natural that I had to try my hand at one at some point. So, here we are.

Summary: Joel is hanging on by a thread as a single father to a tenacious 10-year-old Sarah. Feeling like he's drowning, like the world is about to spit him out, he needs some help before he breaks in half. At your dad's insistence, you show up in his life and change everything.

Story is inspired by the song Fall Into Me by Forest Blakk. Chapter titles will be lyrics from the song.

Word Count: 4.1k

Series Warnings: Mature to start, but will ultimately be Explicit, under 18 take a hike. No outbreak AU. There will be angst, drama, fluff, humor, romance, smut... basically, the works. Age gap of about 9 years (Reader 24/25, Joel 33/34). No use of y/n. Reader has a nickname from her dad, which will be explained at some point.

Dividers by the wonderful @saradika-graphics

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Chapter One: The Day That I Met You

If you asked him over a decade ago where he’d be now, Joel Miller would not have placed himself as a single father to a tenacious pre-teen desperately trying to keep things afloat. He spent too many hours in the week working to keep a roof over their heads and food on the table. He would be lost without the help of his brother and the few friends he had. He had no social life to speak of and could not for the life of him remember the last time he went on an actual date.

No, back then, Joel thought he’d be living the good life in ten years’ time – traveling, going out with the boys, maybe have a girlfriend or wife. Basically, just getting to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted. Don’t get him wrong, though. He was still living a good life; it just was a different sort of good than what he hoped for back in the day.

He loved his daughter with every fiber of his being. Sarah was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, his entire world, and he wouldn’t change the past ten years for anything. He bent over backwards doing whatever it took to make his little girl feel cared for, happy, and loved. He just wished there was a little energy left for something for himself at the end of the day.

Joel Miller was drained. Mentally, physically, and emotionally.

He awoke with a groan as the bright sunlight broke through the gap in his curtains. It was Saturday – his birthday – and he hoped to sleep in, at least a little. Between the brightness of the morning and the stifled sounds of clanging pans and voices carrying up the stairs from his kitchen, sleeping in was not happening.

He hauled himself out of bed with a groan worthy of a man twenty years his senior and stretched out his limbs to ease the achiness in his bare back and chest from too much manual labor. Throwing on a pair of well-worn sleep pants and a faded tee shirt, Joel slipped from his bedroom and down the stairs. He moved rather quietly for a man of his size, stealing a moment to lean against the entryway into the kitchen and watch as Sarah and Tommy worked together making breakfast.

The counters were a mess of spilled pancake mix, eggshells, and… was that coffee dripping over the edge and onto the floor? It was a toss-up on who made the bigger mess, his ten-year-old daughter, or his grown ass brother. Still, Joel could not stop the smile spreading across his face as he watched them laughing and teasing each other. That, right there, was the reason he worked so hard, why the loneliness was worth it.

When Tommy flipped the stovetop off, Sarah turned to find her dad smiling goofily at them. “Happy Birthday, Dad!” she exclaimed, launching herself at his chest. Her lanky arms wrapped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground in a big bear hug.

“Thanks, baby girl,” Joel replied, pressing his lips to her forehead in a quick kiss before he settled her feet on the ground.

“We made you breakfast!” Sarah declared, gesturing toward the disaster zone formerly known as his kitchen.

“I see that,” he chuckled, voice still slightly rough with sleep.

Tommy turned with a smirk, hands grasping two plates filled with bacon, eggs, and pancakes. “Take a seat, brother. Let us take care of you on your birthday.” Placing the food on the small dining table, Tommy roughly patted his brother’s shoulders. “Don’t worry ‘bout the mess, I’m on cleanup duty after we eat.”

“We expectin’ company? That’s a helluva lot of food,” Joel grumbled. He needed coffee, stat.

“Yeah, JB is comin’ over to see ya before heading to the airport. His daughter finished grad school over the summer and is moving back home.” Tommy set more food and a full mug of dark roast coffee in front of his brother. The scent alone made Joel perk up a little.

The Millers hadn’t met you yet, having only become friends with your dad through work after you’d already left for college on the east coast. Your dad had a good decade on Joel, but he and the Miller brothers got on like a forest fire from what he told you. With visits home always short and rushed, busy catching up with family and your own friends, there was never time for your dad to introduce you all. Now you were coming home for good and would have plentiful opportunities for spending time with your dad and his friends.

“Speak of the devil,” Tommy muttered as the doorbell rang. Sarah bounded to the door to greet your dad with a hug. In many ways, the girl reminded him of you when you were young, and it always brought a smile to his face.

“There he is! The man of the hour. Happy Birthday, buddy!” Your dad, John, or JB as the Millers called him, ruffled Joel’s already mussed hair, leaving a few locks standing straight up in further disarray. Pulling a 12-pack of beer from behind his back, your dad set it on the table in front of Joel, topped with a little red bow. “I gotcha a lil’ something to celebrate.”

“Good man,” Joel replied with a chuckle. “Have a seat and help me eat all this. Tommy just told me your lil’ girl is coming home, finally.”

Your dad’s face lit up even more at the mention of you coming home. “She’s not so little anymore, but I sure am glad she’s moving back here. Said she had enough of the east coast, but I think she just missed her ol’ man.” After wolfing down some food, he added, “Think we could host a small barbecue here this coming weekend to celebrate? Your backyard is way nicer than mine and you got the pool and all.”

“Not to mention that fancy ass grill,” Tommy chimed in.

Swallowing a long sip of his morning go juice, Joel nodded. “Of course. Invite whoever you want. I’m looking forward to finally meeting your daughter.”

“Me too!” Sarah added. She heard a lot about you from your dad and hoped you were as cool in person as he made you out to be.

Joel’s mind started spinning upon hearing his daughter’s excitement. With her school hours being so different from his typical work hours, he was spending a small fortune on after school care for Sarah. She was still too young for him to leave home alone, especially on those days where he’s stuck late at a job. He was barely scraping by as it was and couldn’t really afford the cost of after school programs. Perhaps…

“JB, ya think your daughter would mind watching Sarah during the week while she’s home. Drop off and pick up from school and keeping her company ‘til I get home from work? I could pay her – it wouldn’t be much, but better than nothin’, I imagine.” He watched Sarah’s eyes light up at the suggestion and knew it was a good choice.

“I’m sure she’d love to. She wasn’t planning on finding a real job until after the holidays, so I know she’ll be free during the day,” your dad replied. “I’ll talk to her about it on the ride back from the airport and let you know.”

Three suitcases and a carry-on bag. That’s all you had left from six and a half years of pursuing higher education in North Carolina. You sold or gave away anything that did not fit into your luggage or hold sentimental value of your time away. Now, you were moving back home to save some money before you had to start chipping away at the mountain of student loan debt you accrued.

You loved learning, always have, but you were relieved to be done with school. Equipped with a bachelor’s degree in earth sciences and a master’s in education, you felt like a real adult ready to take the world of middle school by storm… well, starting after the new year, maybe. For now, you needed several months of limited to no responsibility to recoup your mental and physical energy. That last couple years of school really burned you out. Not to mention the last-minute rejection of a teaching position you thought was in the bag…

Anyway, you were better off leaving North Carolina behind and returning to Austin. You missed your dad something fierce and his particular brand of caring for you was exactly what your weary soul needed. It was you and him against the world, just like when you were a kid.

You flight was smooth and uneventful, yet you were relieved to deboard the plane. Something about being stuck in a tin can at the mercy of someone else’s ability to keep the thing from plummeting to the ground really aggravated your anxiety. Flying was something you would never enjoy; it was merely a means to an end when you wanted to travel long distances.

The journey to baggage claim was a slog with the crowd of passengers all heading to the same place. You were wondering how you’d wrangle three large suitcases by yourself when you caught sight of your dad. His broad smile took over his face when he spotted you, rushing over to sweep you up in a big bear hug.

“Hey Spud, how was the flight?” he asked as you waited for the baggage carousel to begin moving. “Looks like it was a full plane.”

“It was, but the flight was good. I’m really glad to be home.”

“Me, too, kid.”

You settled into a comfortable silence, watching various pieces of luggage pass by on the carousel. Your bags were scattered, and you had to wait several cycles to get all of them. Your dad lugged the final suitcase over the carousel with a grunt. “Jesus, what you got in this one? Bricks? A body?”

“That one has my gaming system and half a closet full of clothes,” you replied with a laugh.

Before long, everything was loaded into your dad’s truck, and you were heading back towards town. The radio hummed at a low volume as you both chatted about everything and nothing all at once.

“Hey, so I know you said you weren’t looking for full-time work until after the new year, but I have a proposition for you.” Your dad’s eyes stayed focused on the road, and you merely quirked a brow waiting for him to continue. “My buddy Joel – you know the one I told you about? Well, his daughter is ten and he needs some help with the school run and after school care. Our work hours aren’t exactly the same as elementary school, you know?”

You nodded, remembering all the times your dad spoke to you about Joel, as well as his daughter and brother. Despite never meeting them, you felt like you already knew their whole life story. “So, he’s looking for a nanny or something? I could do that. It would keep me from getting lazy while I navigate getting my Texas teaching certificate.”

Your dad grinned, one hand patting your leg. “I was hoping you’d say that. Joel will pay you, of course, but just… don’t expect much. It ain’t easy for him being a single dad trying to keep everything afloat.”

Again, you nodded, a soft smile creasing your lips. You knew all too well how challenging it could be for single parents, having grown up with just you and your dad. Much like what your dad told you about Joel’s experience with the mother of his child, your mom split when you were barely a toddler. Things weren’t always sunshine and roses, but your dad sure did his best to make sure you had a great life. Honestly, you wouldn’t trade it for the world, that life with your dad. You had a feeling it was much the same for Joel and his daughter.

“I’m happy to help, even if he doesn’t pay me. I’m sure his daughter will enjoy having a female influence in her life if nothing else. What’s her name again? Sarah?”

Your dad’s eyes twinkled with pride. “Yup, that’s it. I’m proud of the woman you’ve become, Spud.”

A mist of tears prickled your eyes as you mumbled out a “Thanks, dad.” After a beat, you added, “Must you keep up with that nickname?”

“Of course. You’ll always be my little Spud,” he laughed as you rolled your eyes. “Oh, by the way, we’re going to the Millers on Saturday for your welcome home party.”

“What’s all this?” Joel questioned as Tommy and Sarah placed a heavy, wrapped package on the table before him along with a few smaller presents. The remains of a birthday cake sat nearby, having been delightfully devoured by the Millers while celebrating Joel’s birthday.

“Just a little somethin’ from me and Sarah,” Tommy replied, a boyish grin alighting his handsome features.

Joel gazed between them with curiosity. Not big on celebrating his own aging, he rarely got big gifts. “You wanna help me open this, nugget?” Sarah’s eyes lit up, small hands reaching to tear the wrapping paper into shreds. It only took a few moments for the contents to be revealed, leaving Joel confused at the modern contraption sitting in front of him. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

“You play video games on it, dumbass.” Tommy harumphed as he began a diatribe on the features of the gaming system – he had one just like it at his place and it provided hours of entertainment when he didn’t feel like going out. “I figured it would be a good hobby for you since you never want to join me in going out.”

“Huh,” Joel grunted in return, brows furrowed as he read the instructions on how to setup up the machine. His attention was diverted by Sarah shoving the smaller parcels into his lap.

“Here, dad! These go with it.” Together, they tore into the wrapping paper to find several video games, a few of which were family friendly. The final gift was a spare controller for the gaming system so he and Sarah could play together.

Despite still being unsure that the gift was a good fit for him, Joel was grateful to Tommy for the effort. “This is too much, man. You shouldn’t spend this kind of money on me, Tommy.”

His brother waved him off. “I found a great deal and you never get anything for yourself, brother. You deserve something to indulge in. Believe me, you’ll have fun with this.”

The rest of the evening was spent with Tommy setting up the system and showing the father-daughter duo how to play some of the games he picked out. The living room filled with lots of laughter and teasing, and Joel found himself really getting into the fun of the video games.

After tucking Sarah into bed, Tommy showed Joel a game that was too violent for the little girl but entertaining for the men. The game was set in Washington DC which had been ravaged by a brutal pandemic and the main character was part of a group of agents fighting off nefarious gangs trying to take over the city. Joel caught onto the gameplay quickly and the two men found themselves building the loadout for Joel’s character, taking out bad guys, and chatting well into the night.

At two in the morning, the pair looked at each other with bleary, red-rimmed eyes and finally called it a night. Joel directed Tommy to crash in the spare room as he shuffled off to bed upstairs.

It didn’t take you long to get settled into your dad’s house. It wasn’t the home you grew up in and you only visited a few times after he bought it. After years living away on your own, you thought it would be an adjustment being under his roof again, but it wasn’t. He understood the need for personal space and never hovered unless you were hurt or sick. He gave you the downstairs bedroom – it was the largest in the house, with an ensuite bath and huge walk-in closet.

“Dad, no! Why in the world is this not your room?” you questioned when he placed your bags on the brand-new, king size bed he had delivered the week prior.

“Hell no, Spud. What do I need all this space for? I like the upstairs rooms better – the light is all wrong in this one anyway.”

You looked around, holding in a giggle. The room faced south, giving you just the right amount of natural light all day. That’s what your dad didn’t like. He preferred to live like a bat in a cave with blackout curtains and limited lighting.

“Alright, well, I love it. The natural light is perfect for me. I can actually put some plants on the windowsills. Thank you!” You kissed his cheek as he left you to get settled.

You spent the week rearranging the bedroom how you wanted it, setting up your gaming system, and putting all your clothes into the walk-in closet. Your dad hadn’t done much with the room other than furnish it, so you made a few trips to the store to get a bathroom set, floor lamps, and wall décor to make the room your own.

Before you knew it, Saturday morning dawned bright and warm. The day of your welcome home gathering arrived, and you would finally get to meet the Millers. An excited energy had you moving about your space in a flurry, tidying up and getting ready early. You’d seen some photos of the Millers that your dad sent you – Sarah was adorable with her dark, springy curls, and Joel… Joel was handsome, in a broody, overworked kind of way, with dark, riotous curls and big, warm chocolate eyes. Kind eyes, you called them.

“Hey Spud, you ready?” your dad called from the kitchen as you put the finishing touches on your hair. It was pinned up, leaving the smooth skin of your neck bare. The sundress you picked hugged your curves in just the right way, falling just at your knees in a flow of lightweight material. In early October, Austin was still hot, and you hoped the Millers’ yard was shaded.

“Bring a swimsuit! They have a pool!” he yelled as you grabbed the last of your things. Turning back to your closet, you grabbed a dark green one-piece suitable for family-friendly swimming and tucked it into your bag.

“I’m ready!”

Your dad smiled at the sight of you. “Let’s go then. We’re heading over early so you can officially meet the Millers and we’ll help them setup before everyone else arrives.”

“Sounds good. Who all’s coming anyway?” Your eyes widened as your dad rattled off a list of people he invited, including his work buddies and some of his and Joel’s neighbors. He would have invited some of your old friends from high school, but you all lost touch over the years. The party was turning out bigger than you thought. Your heart swelled with how happy your dad was to have you home for good.

The Millers lived in the same neighborhood, only a few blocks away, so close you could have walked if not for the scorching sun. The drive took only a few minutes before your dad pulled into the driveway of a two-story home similar to your dad’s, with simple landscaping and two wooden rocking chairs on the wide porch. Lovely and quaint, the house made you more curious about the people who lived there.

“Dayum! Get a load a JB’s daughter, Joel,” Tommy called from the living room, leaning over the couch to look out the front window. “She’s smokin’ hot!”

“Dammit, Tommy. Stop spying on ‘em,” Joel growled, sneaking a peek over his brother’s shoulder to do a little hypocritical spying of his own. Breath caught in his throat at the sight of you and he couldn’t break his gaze away, even as JB led you toward the front door.

“What was that about spyin’, brother?” Tommy teased, practically dragging Joel away from the window as a knock sounded against the door. “Don’t worry, I’ll get it.”

Tommy opened the heavy wooden door revealing the pair of you standing there, matching bright eyes and wide grins greeting him. “Well, hello there, beautiful. I’m Tommy.” Reaching a hand toward you, Tommy completely ignored JB, who just scowled at him.

“Nice to meet you, Tommy,” you replied, offering him your hand and name in return. Joel’s scowl matched your dad’s expression as Tommy held your hand for several beats too long.

“Back off, Tommy,” your dad grunted, swatting at the younger Miller brother. “This here is Tommy’s brother, Joel. The one who actually owns this house and the better Miller, if you ask me.”

“Ain’t no one askin’ you, old man,” Tommy’s smart mouth shot back at your dad.

Joel ignored both men, eyes like dark pools as he gazed at you, awed at how small and delicate your hand felt in his. “Howdy, darlin’,” his voice rumbled from his chest. “Come on in. There’s someone else lookin’ forward to meeting you.”

Leading the way through the kitchen into the backyard, Joel felt the heat of your gaze burning his back. Were you checking him out? There was no way. You were beautiful and likely in your early twenties. He felt ancient, though he was only in his early thirties, the hard labor of construction work having taken its toll on him.

“Hi Dad!” a young, sweet voice called from a small swing set where a precious little girl entertained herself. “Who’s this?”

Joel introduced you to his daughter, leaving the two of you to get acquainted as your dad called him away.

“You were away at college?” Sarah questioned, motioning for you to take a seat on the swing next to hers.

“I was,” you replied. “But I’m back for good now.”

“That’s good. What grade did you get to? I’m in fourth grade.”

You thought about it a moment. “I guess it would be 18th grade. But you stop counting grade numbers after 12th and start using different words to describe what year you’re in during college.”

Sarah listened raptly while you explained the different terms, what you studied in school, and what kind of job you were hoping to get.

“You want to be a teacher?” she asked, awed.

“I do! I want to teach middle grade science.”

“I love science! Maybe you could be my teacher when I get to sixth grade!”

Joel returned with your dad and Tommy in tow to find you and Sarah having a blast. The little girl sat in your lap as you kicked your feet out, swinging as high as you could, singing some camp song you remembered from your youth.

“See? Told ya she’d love to spend time with Sarah,” your dad said to Joel. He couldn’t tear his gaze away, staring at the two of you with a glazed look in his dark eyes.

Shaking himself off, Joel turned to your dad. “Guess I better work out some details with her.” He stepped over to the swing set, taking a seat on the empty swing and hoping to the heavens above that it held his weight. He struggled internally on how to start the conversation and was just about to blurt something out when his amazing daughter saved the day.

“Dad! She wants to be a teacher! A science teacher! Isn’t that cool? Did you ask her about watching me yet? I think she’d love to.” Sarah rambled on excitedly, amusing you and Joel. Turning to you before Joel could chime in, Sarah turned to you with baby cow eyes, adding, “You would love to, right?”

How could you ever resist that look? No one could. Both you and Joel were powerless as you nodded, and the offer became official. Cell numbers were exchanged and before you knew it, you had a job starting Monday.

Hours later, slightly drunk on spiked fruit punch and buzzing with energy, you thanked Joel for hosting the barbecue and giving you a job. You kissed his stubbled cheek, forcing thoughts of how attractive he was as far down as they could go. You could not develop a crush on your boss. “I’ll see you Monday morning, bright and early!” you declared before following your dad through the front door.

TBC

[wh0reforcoriolanussnow]

Her babes! Was wondering if you could do a imagine for toms dad series maybe he’s up early doing a interview on the computer. Y/n still sleeping and their daughter wakes up coming into the office maybe climbing into his lap all sleepy still and Tom’s like “Sorry hold on give me one moment gotta take care of my girl!”

First Priority

A/n: I pictured this so vividly in my head. Also, I’m so sorry this took me awhile anon!!

Dad!Tom Blyth x reader masterlist

Divider by @s-hyia

Opening his eyes and readjusting to the light that seeped into the bedroom, he gently places a kiss on his 4 year old daughter's forehead who was sleeping in between the two of you. Elsie had woken from a nightmare just after midnight so you and Tom gladly let her sleep with the two of you.

He quietly gets out of bed, stretching his limbs before coming to your side where he placed a kiss on your forehead, muttering a good morning as you gently smile, still half asleep.

Reason for Tom being up so early on a Saturday morning was because he had an interview at home for the upcoming episodes of Billy the kid. He got ready as quietly as possible, trying not to disturb his girls before he walked downstairs to make a cup of coffee before the interview started.

Tom cringed at the loud noise the coffee machine was making as he glances to the stairs leading upstairs. Walking back upstairs with a cup of coffee in one hand to wake him up more, he slowly turns the door handle to your shared bedroom and peeked his head in.

A soft smile making it to his lips at the sight of you and Elsie cuddled up to one another, fast asleep. Tom then walked down further down the hallway to his office where he shut the door. He set up his computer and in a couple of minutes, started his interview that was planned to go for about 30 minutes to an hour.

Just a couple minutes after Tom started his interview, Elsie had stirred in her sleep. The absence of her dad beside her made her more alert as she sits up on the bed, her head turning every which way to see if Tom was in the room.

You were still fast asleep. Elsie let out a little whine, her stomach rumbling in hunger as she rubs her eyes and decides to get out of bed. She looks around the room, checking the closet and the bathroom and there was still no sign of Tom.

Going on her tippy toes, Elsie opens the door and cheers up when she hears her dad's voice coming from the door at the end of the hallway. She ventures out and opens the door to the office.

Elsie stood at the door, slightly confused as to what her dad was doing as he had headsets on and was talking. "Sorry Tom, I'm going to have to stop you there- uh your daughter is at the door-" At her words, Tom whips his head around and sees Elsie there, in her cute little pjs and her brunette hair all over the place.

"Sweetheart, what is it?" He takes his headphones off to hear his daughter, his mic still on. "I'm hungry, mumma is still sleeping," She frowns. Tom looks to his computer, "I'm so sorry Lisa, could you give me a moment, I just gotta take care of my girl!"

"No no of course! go for it Tom!" The lady chuckles as Tom gives her a grateful smile before he gets up, scooping up Elsie in his arms. The second he walks out the door, you walked out the door as you look at the two confused.

"I thought you had an interview to do?" You chuckle as you caress Elsie's cheek who was still in Tom's arms. "Yeah, I'm in the middle of it, Elsie came in saying she was hungry," He chuckles as your eyes widen as you look at him.

"I didn't want to wake you up mumma," Elsie says as you melt at her comment, " It's okay, baby," You cooed as Tom let's her down on the ground. "Go, go back to your interview I'll make breakfast for us all," You shoo him away but not before he quickly steals a kiss from you.

After the interview finished, Tom walked out the door and the scent of pancakes wafted in the air as he felt his stomach automatically rumble. Walking down the stairs, he could hear soft giggles making him smile.

"Smells good," Tom says as you and Elsie look over to him, Elsie quickly getting out of her seat and running to her dad who lifts her up. "How did the interview go, darling?" You smile as you flip a pancake, "Good, it went great," He comes up behind you, pressing a kiss on the side of your head.

[vxnuslogy]

– in between missions.

pairing: sunday x gn!reader

premise: it's been an eventful six months since sunday joined the stellaron hunters. today marked one of their very rare day offs, and what better way to spend the day with the people that's taken care of him.

– warnings: slight angst if you squint, mentions of blood in some parts.

– author's note: updated the lore in this little mini-series (?) LMAOO thank you sunday leaks on sunday for bringing me back to life. so sorry for being a bit ia, tumblr has been such a pain in the ass that it slightly demotivated me to write. new layout for sunday fics too so yippie!! (totally not foreshadowing). art credits to 冒火锅海台 on Weibo for the art. | 4.1k words (LMFAO).

MORNING — 6:00 A.M.

before, sunday would wake up at the crack of dawn; waiting for the sun’s rays as he watered the plants he’d been taking care of. now –he still wakes up earlier than most– he spends his mornings in a big kitchen with the sound of kafka’s humming filling the bubbles of silences that start to form. it was always a pleasure helping the older woman cook everyone’s breakfast without having their loud bickering in the background (though sometimes he would grow paranoid if he never heard it throughout the day; he’s grown used to your voices).

before missions started, all the petty quips, and the laughter, sunday appreciated the quiet moments he gets to share with kafka.

“sunny, can you take over for me? i need to defrost silver wolf’s nuggets.”

sunday only hummed in response. body lazily slipping itself into kafka’s previous position of frying the leftover rice from yesterday. “sunny” was the woman’s name for him; a form of endearment, you said, she does it to everyone. sunday would never admit it himself (kafka often teased how adorable his morning voice was so he tried not to speak until after breakfast), but hearing that little nickname always sent a flurry of little butterflies down to his chest. collecting the pollen from the flowers you’ve carefully placed in between his ribs and spreading it all over his chest. no one has ever given him such a casual nickname before, so sunday had started to cling to it like a lifeline.

when the clock strikes 7:30, it usually means you're about to wake up. after patting his hands dry on a spare kitchen towel, sunday lifts his head and there you are. a small smile spread across his lips when you greeted kafka with a side hug. you still had your bed hair and your eyes were barely open; it was an endearing sight to see.

“good morning,” sunday snaps out of his daze when an arm wraps around his shoulder and pulls him close to your chest. sunday could distinctly smell the chocolate you ate with silver wolf the night before and the soft remnants of your scented candle. he let his head lean more into your touch as he mumbles a soft good morning straight to your heart. ignoring the pair of eyes that crinkle in amusement behind the kitchen counter.

by the time 7:50 rolls around, you’re fully awake. a cup of coffee in your hands as you, him, and kafka go door to door to wake up your little group. from the corner of sunday’s eyes, he sees kafka peer over blade’s door and a grumpy okay go through. on the other end, he sees you greet firefly good morning with a hug before disappearing into another hall to come and get elio. 

before he could even knock on silver wolf’s door, the wooden thing pulled open and he was met with the sight of the silver haired girl looking down at her game console. he chuckled in amusement, patting down the stray hairs that poked up and guided her to the kitchen. he made sure to ask if she’s beaten the boss yet and when she replied with an angry huff, sunday took it as a sign to not bring it up for a while.

it's already 8:10 when everyone is sitting down around the kitchen table. plates of warm fried rice, chicken nuggets, some slices of fruits, pancakes, and multiple cups of teas and coffees were laid down on the table. small chatter started to arise and sunday could feel the energy start to spike as well. as he took bite after bite until he felt your knee bump into his. when he turned to you, he was met with the sight of you pushing more food in his direction.

“you need to eat more,” you said before taking a bite of your pancake. “you’ll need the extra nutrients if you want to fly again.”

sunday just smiled and accepted your offerings without as much as a word.

roughly an hour passes before everyone is cleaning up their spaces. blade was on dishes duty while the rest went back to their rooms to get changed. sunday was in his quarters, buttoning up a spare polo blade had given him when he heard a knock on his door.

“good morning again.” you greet with a smile.

sunday smiled in return and urged you to come in. “good morning to you, too.”

“kafka and firefly are going out for groceries. do you want anything?”

sunday was taken back to the days where he would water the plants in his office back in the penacony. how he would run his finger down each leaf and smile to himself when a flower starts to bloom. if sunday only joined a few weeks ago, he’d declined immediately. but it's been almost half a year since he’s joined, and he’s feeling a bit more comfortable with asking for more personal things.

“plants,” he replies. “the small ones that are easy to take care of.”

you tilt your head curiously like an owl. “why plants?”

“i used to take care of some flowers back in dewlight pavilion every morning. i’d like to get back into that, if you don’t mind.”

sunday recognized that little smirk of yours. with a shake of his head, he accompanies you out his room after fixing up his hair and bid farewell to kafka and firefly.

“let’s get you all the plants you want then.” 

AFTERNOON — 2:38 P.M.

training in the afternoon was something sunday didn’t get quite used to. even now as he’s exchanging blows with blade, he feels quite unsure of his grip around the hilt of the wooden sword; how his footwork felt sloppy and uncoordinated. sunday wasn’t shocked (maybe, just slightly, a bit bitter) when the dark haired man knocked him off his feet for the seventh time in under two hours.

“you’re overthinking things too much,” the man grumbled, offering his hand to him. “it’s written all over your face; stop thinking about the nitty gritty things and start focusing on the task at hand. if you keep focusing on your opponent's footwork, you’ll end up ignoring his swings.”

“right, apologize. let’s go again.”

sunday had never felt such a competitive surge of emotions come over him whenever he trained with blade. the way he swung the charred sword in his hands; his body and how it moved so fluidly like water; and his determination to win despite beating him by more than a mile; it made sunday want to genuinely get better. blade fought like it would be his last battle, and he would go down with a fight.

“mister is getting better,” muttered silver wolf as she collapsed face first by your side, finishing her own training with elio. “he’s keeping up with the old man now.”

you brush away the bangs that stuck to her forehead and offer her a towel. elio, now in their cat form, sat down on your other side and started playing with the orange peels. “sunday has improved a lot huh? it feels like it was just yesterday when he first joined.”

“for reals.” the silver haired girl stretched and tried to reach over for the oranges.

a memory resurfaced in sunday’s mind when he caught sight of you peeling oranges for silver wolf. how you looked particularly at peace in the moment. his mind replayed the image of robin when she came back to penacony after the accident. he had such an intense amount of guilt for not being by her side at such a hard time, he isn't quite sure how to put it into words. 

“brother!” shouted robin as she entered his office, a bright smile on her face and her phone in hand.

before he could utter a word she had shoved her phone to his face, “an orange?” he asked with a confused tilt of his head.

robin nodded and said, “they say when someone close to you peels your oranges, it's a sign of having a strong relationship! is that why you’ve been peeling my oranges for me recently?”

sunday felt the wind be knocked out of him as his world turned upside down. blade had flipped him over to his back and as the cherry on top, whacked him on the head with his wooden sword. 

“for not paying attention,” he grumbled. “let’s call it a day.”

he didn’t get much of a word in when blade was already seated beside silver wolf (the girl shoving an orange slice to his mouth and him accepting it silently). sunday gets up from his lying position, patting down the dust on his (blade’s) clothes and takes a seat next to you. 

“do you mind opening your wings for me?” you ask as you place a small plate of orange slices on his lap.

taking one in his hand and a small bite, he lets the pair of wings by his waist stretch out and lay on your lap. your careful fingers and observant eyes scanning over every feather, smoothing out the ones that stuck out. it wasn’t long before silver wolf put down her console and started poking at his wings too.

“do you feel that, mister?” she asks.

he shakes his head with a small smile, “no, i do not.”

she only hummed and looked up at you. “will he be able to fly soon?”

you take a few seconds to respond.

“soon,” you mutter as your hands re-adjusted the exoskeleton that’s been supporting them. “they look better than when you first arrived. you seem rather curious, what gives?”

silver wolf pouted and shoved at you lightly. your chuckle rang in his ears like music. the same melodies he would play on his record player when the night feels too long. sunday leaned more to your side when the younger girl showed a pixelated character in her game and pointed to its wings. 

“when you fly again, mister, you have to take me with you!” she excitedly exclaimed with stars in her eyes. “i’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to fly.”

sunday felt a tug deep within his heart when he looked into her eyes. silver wolf, surprisingly, was very welcoming of him when he first joined. they got along fine and would even spend their free time in each other’s company. her excited demeanor reminded him of how robin looked when he first took to the skies. the animated expression on her face; her grin reaching her eyes; and the way she’s leaning forward in anticipation.

“when i fly again, i’ll be sure to let you know first.”

his reply was all the more worth it when the girl jumped in delight and landed on blade’s back. your laughter along with silver wolf’s excited blabbering and even blade’s protests made more flowers bloom inside his chest. sunday ceased his chuckling when he realized he had run out of oranges to eat. before he could even ask for more you’re already replacing his empty one with a new plate filled with peeled oranges.

“i can peel them myself, [name].” he says almost in a whisper.

“i know you can,” you dangle the orange peel in front of elio and let them play with it and stack them in a pile. “but let me do it for you.”

EVENING — 6:00 P.M.

“it’s my turn to decide what we get to eat!”

“it’s been your turn for two weeks. if anything, it’s my turn now.”

sunday could only push the two further and further apart, or at least try too. blade was a foot taller than him and obviously more bulked up than him; silver wolf might be the shortest but she knows how to use it to her advantage, zooming from one place to another like a little mouse. he could only plead with a lopsided smile when you enter the kitchen, your towel around your neck to catch the stray waters that dropped from your hair.

you sighed with the shake of your head and pulled silver wolf back into your chest. two arms snugly wrapped around her small shoulders as she kicked and pointed at blade. sunday on the other hand stepped in front of the man with a stretched arm, trying to calm down the silver haired girl as best as he could.

“at this point if you two can’t decide then i’ll just cook whatever i want.” you joked. both heads turned towards you and glared, but you only laughed and let silver wolf stomp her way to sit on the kitchen counter. “how about some sweet and spicy chicken for dinner? that way you both get what you want.”

sunday watched in amusement as silver wolf jutted her lower lip and mumbled on how she wanted cake. blade only slumped his shoulders and grumbled a low fine and started helping you take out all the ingredients from the fridge as well as the pans and bowls.

“i swear you two have worse cravings than a pregnant wom– ow!” you didn’t get to finish when blade purposely knocked your head when he opened a cabinet. your eyes narrowed at him while he only shrugged. a playful smirk on his lips as he shoved your head lower when you went to berate him.

a soft nudge on sunday’s back pushed him a bit forward. elio’s blue eyes in their cat form met his own gold ones and the two stared for a while. the cat motioned his head towards you and blade who chatted over dinner, not long, silver wolf also joined. 

“go join them.” was all they said before jumping down from the table and going to who knows where.

sunday didn’t get a chance to reply when a pair of arms snuck around his waist. he let out a noise between a surprised gasp and a shout that made you snort in amusement. when he turned to glare at you, you only stuck your tongue out and tied the apron around his waist.

“come help us make dinner, sunday.” 

and how could he say no when you’re already dragging him by the apron to the kitchen aisles with all the ingredients laid down.

by 7:15 p.m., kafka and firefly enter through the door and are met with a memorably amusing sight of sunday almost collapsing on their dining table as elio pushes a carton of milk to his direction. you and silver wolf were laughing at him with pointing hands and tears in your eyes. even blade cracked his own chuckle and rolled his eyes playfully as the halovian kicked him in the shin.

the taller woman surmised that sunday had fallen victim to blade’s insane spice addiction. the stray silver spoon on the table with the sauce was evidence. kafka let out a chuckle as firefly came over to his side –still keeping a bit of distance– and asking if he was alright.

“thought you were only getting groceries?” you ask with a raised brow. eyes surveying the amount of bags she and firefly had in their hands.

“there was a sale for clothes,” kafka reasoned. “how could we say no?”

you shake your head in disbelief and give the woman a side hug. “dinner will be ready in ten. help the poor angel soothe his tongue in the meantime.”

kafka laughed as she dropped her bags by the living room couch and guided sunday to sit down. firefly handed him an empty glass and offered to pour the milk in it. he shook his head no and did it himself. the poor boy downed the drink in one go and it didn’t seem enough to soothe his burning tongue so firefly went to get another carton from the fridge.

sunday furrowed his brows and stuck out his tongue. no doubt his taste buds won’t be working for a while.

“why does blade put so much spice in his food?” he questions the older woman who only smiled. her eyes glazed over to where the said man was and sunday followed. 

“bladie can’t taste anything that isn’t spicy,” kafka said, her eyes not once leaving blade’s figure. “a living corpse can’t really taste anything. spice is considered a pain sensation; pain is the only thing he can feel and taste.”

sunday frowns at this new information. he knows little of blade’s past and had made no effort to try and dig it up. he was curious, yes, but it must be an incredibly sensitive topic if every night the man slips away from his bedroom seeking you or kafka out to soothe the mara that’s coursing through his body.

“i… see.” a hand came to ruffle up his hair. he looked up to see kafka smiling down at him and handed him another cup of milk.

“try to ask him about it someday. maybe you’ll be able to help.”

sunday keeps that information at the back of his mind until everyone finishes cooking dinner.

the clock hit 7:25 and everyone decided to eat by the living room to see what kafka and firefly bought in their mini shopping spree. he sat in between you and blade on the floor, using the small coffee table in front of you to hold your food while silver wolf sat on the couch behind him. her legs over your shoulders and slouched on the couch.

time surprisingly passed slowly tonight. only ten minutes had actually passed of kafka showing off her new coat, but to sunday it had felt like eternity. he absentmindedly tossed his food around his plate, pushing away all the spicy pieces of chicken to the edge of his plate.

“not eating the spicy chicken now are we?” sunday whipped his head to blade and glared. warmth rising to his cheeks, wings fluttering in embarrassment when he remembered what had happened not too long ago. 

“your “normal” amount of spice nearly sent me to a coma,” he rebutted with a roll of his eyes. “so pardon me for not wanting to be sent to the hospital.”

you let out a loud laugh and leaned back on the couch. silver wolf was now using his head as support when she agreed wholly with his statement. firefly let out a quiet cough to silence her laugh while kafka chuckled. blade only rolled his eyes and took the pieces of chicken on his plate and placed it on his own.

“you said you wanted to try.” he argued back. a teasing lilt to his voice as he placed a piece of chicken to his mouth to add more salt to the injury.

“a grave mistake that was.”

you cease your laughing and lean on your propped up arm. “well look at you two, getting along so well!”

sunday scowled while blade scoffed. both picking up pieces of food and silently chewing. what started as a small bump of sunday’s elbow turned into a small petty argument about spice tolerance.

“it is quite sweet of you bladie,” kafka started. “for taking all the spicy pieces off of sunny’s plate, i mean.” 

you jumped to the wagon immediately and nodded. “agreed! you’ve never done that for anyone here before. i’m starting to think you’re playing favorites.”

“one more word and i’m dumping the rest of the chili oil on your plates.”

that had shut you up immediately. for extra measures, you scooted away from them both with your plate close to your chest. “shutting up now…”

NIGHT — 11:20 P.M.

sunday let out a long sigh as he tossed and turned in his bed. he had lost count of how many times he’s replayed tonight’s dinner in his mind to at least try and get some sleep and not be plagued by his nightmares. tonight was joyful, and he’d like to keep it that way till the end of the day. but his insomnia had struck him again like always. he’s already drunk two pills from the medication you bought him and it's yet to take effect.

with one last sigh, sunday threw off the sheets over his body and stalked out of his room as quietly as he could. the base was dark in the dead of night. the halls looked more ominous and longer than normal, something he believed was taken out of a horror film. when he first wandered these halls at this hour, sunday would feel the pricks of his paranoia.

but unlike the first time, there were no longer stray feathers of ravens following his wake. his feet weren’t stained by his blood as he dragged his body to the direction of salvation. in these halls, sunday wasn’t carrying a knife he used to plunge into his own chest to try and make the weight of the sins he didn’t commit a little lighter. he was free; free as he could be in the safety of everyone’s presence.

his gaze shifted to the slightly ajar door that led to your workshop. he frowned as he realized you were staying up late again. when he peered into the small crack, sunday was met with the sight of firefly hunched over your desk, sound asleep with stray pieces of fabric by her feet.

the nights at base were usually cold so sunday quickly walked to his room again to get a spare blanket. as quietly as he could, the halovian entered your workshop, silently cursing when the door creaked slightly. making sure he didn’t step on any of the fabrics on the floor, sunday draped the blanket over the girl’s shoulders.

another memory of his resurfaced. on nights like these, robin would sneak into his office with a pillow and blanket in her hands. she would guide his head gently to lay on the pillow and not the harsh wooden table and make sure the blanket over his shoulders didn’t slip until morning came. by instinct, sunday’s hand came to smooth down firefly’s hair and whispered good night.

he started picking up the stray pieces of whites, blues, and blacks from the floor and neatly folded them one by one. placing them in neat piles on your table. with one last look to firefly’s figure, he smiled to himself and quietly shut the door behind him. his next stop was the kitchen to brew himself a cup of tea.

“he’s gone now, firefly.”

even as you called out to her, firefly did not budge and kept her head in between her folded arms. you shook your head and sat down next to her. you had witnessed what happened and you could only guess the conflicted feelings the girl felt.

“do you think he’s a bad person, little knight?” you ask, hands picking up one of the fabrics sunday had graciously folded and laid them on the table. a measuring tape around your shoulders and a pencil snuggly on your ear.

“he’s done bad things, but…” you hum in reply. firefly’s voice was muffled because of her arms but you heard her perfectly fine, much to her dismay. “i don’t think he’s a fully bad person. i just find it… awkward to interact with him.”

“do you want to interact with him?” you wonder. “as friends i mean.”

firefly finally raised her head. hand clutching the blanket draped over her shoulders as the other ghosted over the spot where sunday had patted down and whispered good night.

“i don’t know.”

you only hum. “sunday is rather strange isn’t he? he’s quite the piece of work if you ask me.”

“what about you?” firefly fires back, scooting her chair closer to you. “do you think he’s a bad person.”

“no. no i don’t.” you answer immediately and feel firefly pause. “he’s kindest person i’ve ever met.”

“i see…”

you pat her head gently and fixate your gaze back to your table.

“he’s a lot more like us than anyone expected. sunday has done bad things that hurt those around him, but we’ve also done that haven’t we? take your time. all of us were lonely at some point, so it’s also his first time he’s ever craved someone’s company. we’ve all done that too, didn’t we?”

when a new day started (around 1:56 a.m.) she made her way back to her room. sunday’s blanket was still wrapped around her even when she laid down on her own bed. she never pointed out how you purposefully drafted a space for the ticket you’ve always hidden on sunday’s new uniform.

© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.

[skzdust]

Snapshots: "Can I kiss you?"

I'm starting a new series I'm calling Snapshots, which are basically just gonna be little drabbles responding to a prompt with each of the members of Stray Kids :)

Some will contain smut, some will be sfw, and some will be a mix.

For this one, Changbin's has smut, and Han's is suggestive, but the rest of it is sfw!

Pairing: ot8 x reader

Word count: approx. 100 each, total 800

Reblogs, likes, comments all appreciated!!!

Masterlist

-----

Bang Chan: When Chan asks if he can kiss you, it’s with a trace of hesitance lifting the words. “Can I… kiss you?” His hand plays with your hair, and he looks at you intently. You’ve been best friends for years, but he wants more, and you want more, and you both know it. “Yeah.” You whisper, and he breaks into a smile, bright as the sun coming out from behind the clouds, before leaning in. It’s long, and sweet, and he knows how to read you like no one else. He knows when to deepen the kiss, and when to pull back and laugh and say, “I’m so glad I asked.”

Lee Know: When Minho asks if he can kiss you, the words rush out of his mouth. You’re about to get out of his car, holding the bouquet he’d given you before your date. “Can I kiss you?” He says, and your hand leaves the car door. “You’re such a gentleman.” “Shut up.” A flush rises on his neck and cheeks. You smile. “Yes, you can kiss me.” Minho leans over the center console of the car to give you a kiss, one that lingers on your lips, one you’ll be thinking about until your next date.

Changbin: When Changbin asks if he can kiss you, he’s sweaty, you’re sweaty, and he’s inside you. “Can I—ngh—” He grunts, thrusting into you. “Can I kiss you?” “Please do.” You exhale, parting your lips for him. The kiss is somewhat jerky as he continues to fuck you, but it’s passionate and heady and it sets your head spinning. His hands work their way up and down your body, and you’re so sensitive, and you feel and feel and feel. He’s sensual with his lips, he always is, and you feel like you could let yourself float away into him if you wanted to. So, you do, giving him everything, and he takes everything.

Hyunjin: When Hyunjin asks if he can kiss you, he says it bearing coffee and pancakes. He sets them down on the table in front of you and leans on his hands towards you. “Can I kiss you?” “Of course.” You smile. He gives you a quick peck on the lips before walking away, throwing a coy grin over his shoulder. “That does not count as a kiss.” You stand up, following him into the kitchen. “Can I get a real one?” “Was that not good enough for you?” He puts a hand to his chest. “My own partner doesn’t like my kisses.” “You know that’s not it.” You grab his shirt, pulling him towards you, and he puts his arm around you, and he’s so close. You get your kiss.

Han: When Jisung asks if he can kiss you, your hair is being ruffled by the breeze in the park. “Can I kiss you?” He leans in close, by your ear, voice low and sexy, but with an unmistakable playful note. “Jisung! There’s kids!” You jerk your head at the play structure. “We can go somewhere else.” “And disturb our picnic?” “If you don’t mind… I want you.” “Yeah?” You swallow. “Do you?” “I do.” His eyes are dark. “I really want you, baby.” You pack up the picnic in a matter of minutes, and you’re barely on the far side of the car before Jisung presses you against the door, capturing your lips with his.

Felix: When Felix asks if he can kiss you, his breath fogs in the air. “Can I kiss you?” His eyes are wide, sparkling in the winter lights, a snowflake falling to land on his face like one of his freckles. You brush it away, your thumb lingering on his face for a few moments longer than it needs to. “Please, Felix, I thought you’d never ask.” His kiss is soft, and sweet, and he sighs into it. When he pulls away, it’s to smile at you with a radiance you can’t help but melt at.

Seungmin: When Seungmin asks if he can kiss you, he does so with a big smile. “Can I kiss you?” Your smile is just as wide. “Please do, babe.” He leans across the table to give you a short kiss, brushing his pants as he sits back down. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist, you look so good!”

I.N: When Jeongin asks if he can kiss you, it’s mumbled and sleepy. “Can I kiss you?” You’re sitting on the edge of the bed, tying your shoe to go for your morning run, and you turn around to see Jeongin reaching for you with one hand from his position still in bed. You smile. “‘Course.” You lean down and give him a kiss, then ruffle his hair as he grins, eyes still closed. “Have a good run, baby.” “I’ll see you when I’m back, love you.” “Love you too.” He smiles one more time and rolls back over, promptly falling back asleep.

[ginnsbaker]

All Of Your Pieces (2 - Liar! Liar!)

Chapter Summary: You wake up one morning compelled to say the truth and nothing but the truth. Wanda seizes this opportunity to ensure everything remains under her control. Meanwhile, Jimmy and Darcy finally discover what happened to Agent Monica Rambeau. Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Female Reader Chapter word count: 3k+ | Chapter Tags: Manipulation

A/N: Billy is my favorite twin, if that isn't obvious already :P // More author's notes here.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

It doesn’t require a calendar to track the days here in Westview.

It's the kind of repetition that settles over suburban life, where dates fade into insignificance and days blur into a seamless loop, distinguishable only by the changing seasons. But even the current season—fall—is as predictable in its passage as ever, like storybook weather in its perfection. The birds are always chirping, the sun rises promptly at 6:40 every morning—never a minute early or a second late—and it never rains. Just endless clear skies, day after day, until the sun sets at five.

You've been chewing on this odd feeling ever since you and Wanda arrived in this part of New Jersey, but today, there's something extra. You can't pin it down, just that it's…there. Today feels different—more than usual—and you didn’t really get it until breakfast, when your mouth slipped past your usual tact with the kids.

“Mommy, do you like it?” Tommy asks, his eyes big and hopeful as he holds up a crayon drawing of what looks like the family standing outside a perfect little house. 

Perfect. Honestly, you’re getting pretty tired of everything being so perfect around here.

“It's...very colorful,” you start, the usual praise ready on your tongue, but what comes out instead is, “Though it's kind of all over the place, isn’t it? Maybe you could try to stay inside the lines a bit more.”

Speaking aloud is like sending an email: once it's out there, it's out there for good. Even so, an email would have been the better option. At least then, you could just hack into Tommy’s account—if he ever figures out how to set one up—and erase your blunder for good.

Could having a magical wife somehow save you from this mess?

It’s too late though. Tommy's face crumples, and Wanda doesn't seem keen on throwing you a lifeline, just a dirty look from across the table as you sip your morning coffee.

“But if you’re going for an abstract—” you start, but your son is already sulking off to his room. 

Billy digs into his cereal, blissfully unaware. Wanda, on the other hand, looks as if she's ready to rip open a portal to another realm and hurl you out of this one.

That can’t be good.

“You really upset him,” she says, arms crossing over her chest. “He was so proud of that drawing.”

“I know, I feel awful about it,” you groan, burying your face in your hands.  Seeing your genuine remorse, Wanda eases up, giving you a moment to stew in your guilt before she comes back to the table with a stack of pancakes.

“Here, eat up,” she says, setting them down in front of you.

You pick up your fork, cutting into the stack. They look perfect—golden brown, with the butter melting just right. You take a bite, and before you can stop yourself, the words are out.

“They're a bit dry,” you blurt out, instantly regretting your words. But once you start, you can't seem to stop. “And this maple syrup... it tastes kind of artificial.” 

Wanda gasps. “Excuse me?”

“Shit—”

“Language, Y/N!” she snaps, but it's too late, the curse is already out there, floating in the air like a bad smell. 

In the next moment, something strange happens—your lips tingle, and suddenly you can't feel your mouth. Alarmed, you touch your face, finding smooth skin where your lips should be. You try to protest, but only muffled noises emerge. Fear surges as you point frantically at your face. You attempt to scream, but no sound comes out.

Seeing your flustered pantomime, Wanda’s face goes from angry to horrified. With a wave of her hand, your mouth is back in its place, and you’re gasping, both of you staring at each other, not believing what just happened. Meanwhile, Billy is giggling, clapping his tiny hands together, and gleefully repeating the S-word you accidentally let slip earlier. 

You and Wanda just continue to stare at each other in shock, but then you glance at Billy, his innocent delight completely oblivious to the fact he’s saying something he shouldn’t, and you see the corners of Wanda’s mouth start to twitch. A moment later, she’s laughing unabashedly, and before you know it, you’re doing the same. 

Despite the peculiarities of your life here in Westview, you don't think you've ever been this content. Before Wanda, the idea of having your own family—your own kids, two no less—seemed unthinkable. You never imagined you'd have a wife, a house in a quiet suburb, or hear one of your sons swear for the first time. Westview is far from normal, but then again, so is your family. As you watch Wanda's laughter taper into soft giggles, you think it's impossible to love her any more than you already do.

Wanda made this all conceivable for you.

“Sorry, honey,” you say, though still a bit shaken by the ordeal. “I didn't mean to be so rude.”

Wanda looks even more remorseful than you feel—which makes sense, considering she did erase your mouth, however briefly.

“And I probably shouldn't have... you know, removed your mouth,” she murmurs, guiltily picking at her cuticles.

Admittedly, it was terrifying—one of the scariest experiences you've ever had. You certainly don't want a repeat. It makes you slightly wary of your wife, but your love for Wanda outweighs your fear. Standing beside one of the most powerful beings in the universe takes courage, and you've built up plenty over the years together. You're made for this—for her, for this kind of love.

“Apology accepted,” you say, mustering a weak smile.

Wanda's face floods with relief, then quickly contorts into worry. “What’s with you today?”

“I can't seem to lie,” you confess, realizing there's no easy way to skirt the truth. “I don't know what's happening, but I just can't stop saying exactly what's on my mind.”

She stares at you, confused and a little hurt. “What do you mean you can’t lie today? So, you’re usually lying?”

Before you can smooth that over, Billy looks up from his cereal, fixing you with that stern look that’s pure Wanda. “Mommy, lying is bad.”

Wanda’s gaze softens as she looks at Billy, then back at you, the seriousness returning. “Billy, why don’t you go brush your teeth and check on your brother? Your mommy and I need to talk for a little bit.”

“Okay, mama.”

Billy scampers off, and you feel your stature shrink under your wife's gaze, suddenly feeling every bit the child.

“What’s this about not being able to lie?” Wanda asks once it’s just the two of you.

You shake your head. “Look, it’s not that I usually lie, but today, I can’t even if I wanted to. It’s like a—a truth filter permanently switched off.”

Wanda takes a few moments to mull over your words. “Oh…” she starts, sounding half-convinced. “Maybe it’s stress,” she throws out after a beat. “You’ve been working really hard lately, haven’t you? Perhaps your mind is just overwhelmed and you need a mental day off.”

You had thought of that, but the whole situation seemed too weird for such a simple explanation. Then again, maybe seeing shadows where there aren't any is just another stress symptom. So you let it slide.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right. I’ll see if I can call in sick next week,” you mumble, trying to sound cheerful about the prospect of a break.

Wanda comes around the table and cups your face in her hands. You let her pinch your cheeks together, feeling both stubborn and a bit sorry for yourself. It's silly, but all you want is for Wanda to coddle you and make you feel better, not to dish out logical reasons for why you’re not yourself today. 

“Well, if you're stuck with the truth, let's have some fun with it,” Wanda says.

You swallow hard, aware that any question she might ask now would either please or upset her—and there seems to be no middle ground.

“Uhm, honey, I don’t think—”

“Do you love me?”

You smirk at her; that’s an easy one. “More than anything else.”

“Only me?”

You laugh at her silly follow-up. This reminds you of the early days of your courtship when Wanda was a bottomless well of need. You didn't mind at all, knowing she needed to hear it as often as you made her feel it. Initially, you were a bit bothered, wondering if your actions weren't speaking loudly enough for her to trust you. Eventually, it became less frequent, until the question turned into a statement—You love me—to which you responded with your own: You love me too. Since then, it quickly became how you say ‘I love you’ to each other.

“Only you. I'd sooner die than love someone else,” you confidently tell her.

Her smile in return is a beautiful riddle—a riddle you can’t figure out. 

“Wanda, I—”

“Do you like living here?”

“Sometimes.” The words slip out before you can think, and you're relieved to realize that your feelings about Westview are honestly not all negative. “It’s a nice town. Quiet and cheap.”

Wanda's face does something subtle. You can't quite read her reaction, but it's clear she has more questions when she doesn't park on your answer, instead moving on to something else. 

“Do you... do you remember how we got here?"

You blink at her. Initially, the question seems a bit absurd. But as you try to formulate a response, “Of course. We got married at…” you stall, your brain blanking on the when and where of your own wedding. “...then we moved into this house last…”

You try to pin down the date, but it slips through your mind like sand.

“Wanda?” A laugh escapes you, but there's a nervous edge to it. “Why can’t I remember any of the details?”

The last thing she says before flicking her wrist is, “Because you’re not supposed to.” But even that slips away, scrubbed clean from your memory by Wanda’s sweeping hand.

–

“Jimmy?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I found her.”

Jimmy hurried over to the tight corner of their camp where Darcy had practically set up shop for the past few days. Since the signals were first picked up, she's taken charge of monitoring the transmissions, her main focus being to locate Agent Monica Rambeau. They've already confirmed that many of Wanda's bizarre, sitcom-style characters are, in fact, real residents of Westview, somehow trapped inside whatever anomaly Wanda seems to be in the center of.

“That’s Monica, right?” Darcy points at the grainy image on the retro television set they've been using to watch the town's activities. The broadcasts come through at odd hours, which makes every second of surveillance crucial. 

Jimmy leans in closer, squinting at the screen where a woman bearing a striking resemblance to Monica appears. “It sure looks like her,” he confirms.

The woman onscreen is dressed in distinctly 70s fashion—a bold, patterned blouse with wide lapels tucked into high-waisted bell-bottoms. Her hair is styled in voluminous, bouncy curls that softly frame her face, completing the look that is so far removed from the S.W.O.R.D. uniform Jimmy last saw her in.

“I wonder what character she’s playing in the show…” Darcy muses.

A handful of nearby crew quietly look on as Monica steps out of a Hornet, a stack of papers clutched in her hand, and strides confidently toward one of those cookie-cutter houses lining the street—yours and Wanda's.

“Stay frosty, Monica,” Darcy mutters under her breath, staring unblinkingly at the screen as they watch her knock gently on the door.

It’s Wanda who greets her with a guarded smile. “Hello, can I help you?” she asks, sizing up the stranger on her doorstep.

“Hi, there. I’m Geraldine. You must be Wanda,” Monica says. Jimmy and Darcy exchange a look, both arriving at the same conclusion: whatever spell has ensnared the other residents, Monica appears to be under it too.

“Do I know you?” Wanda asks, her teeth gritted in what she hopes passes for a smile. But Wanda, she’s got a tell. It’s never hard to see when she’s faking it. The sitcom laugh track of this Westview tries to spin it as humor, but it’s clear to anyone—she’s not thrilled about Geraldine’s arrival at all.

“Oh, I’m sorry, has Y/N not mentioned who I am?” Geraldine asks mildly,  like she’s bringing up some small, casual detail—which, for Wanda, it isn’t.

“Honey, who's at the door?” Your voice drifts from the living room just before you step into view, crunching on an apple. When you spot the visitor, your face lights up with recognition, puzzling Wanda even more.

“Evening, ma'am,” Geraldine nods at you with a polite smile.

Wanda keeps darting glances between you and Geraldine, trying to piece together what's going on. And what’s frustrating her is you don’t seem privy at all to her disconcertment.

“I told you to just call me Y/N,” you admonish with a light grin. “What brings you here?”

“W-Who is she?” Wanda jumps in, keeping up her charade of a pleasant surprise.

“It’s Geraldine,” you tell Wanda, expecting her to recognize the name. Her blank, slightly annoyed expression forces you to jog your memory and that’s when it hits you that your wife has no idea what you’re talking about. “She’s my new assistant. Didn’t I tell you?” you say sheepishly.

“No, honey, you certainly did not,” Wanda replies, her smile stretched a bit too tight. She turns to Geraldine. “Aren’t offices usually closed by five?”

“They sure are, Wanda,” Geraldine replies cheerfully. It bothers Wanda how Geraldine uses ‘ma’am’ for you but casually drops her first name like they're old friends.

“So, why are you here?” Wanda asks, no longer bothering to hide her irritation.

“Oh, just dropping off some reports that Y/N needed to review tonight. Urgent stuff, you know?” Geraldine holds up the stack of papers in her hand as proof.

“Yikes,” Darcy winces at the tension practically leaking through the screen, feeling that deep cringe of secondhand embarrassment for Monica's obliviousness to Wanda's ire.

Fortunately for your assistant, you position yourself between her and Wanda, intercepting just as your wife’s temper begins to flare. You remember Wanda’s warm, almost syrupy kindness with Agnes when she first appeared, which only makes her sudden cold front toward Geraldine unreasonable.

“I completely forgot about those reports. Thanks for bringing them over, Geraldine,” you say, nudging her toward the exit. “See you Monday!”

Then, you close the door before she can add anything else, sparing both women from each other.

“So, why haven't you mentioned Geraldine before?” Wanda asks, not sparing another second to grill you about your new assistant.

You frown, thinking back. “I thought I did.”

Wanda looks at you for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. “Are you sure there’s nothing else you’re not telling me?” she demands, her eyes searching yours.

“Uh-oh, trouble in paradise,” Darcy sing-songs, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. Jimmy reaches over, trying to sneak a handful, but she swats him away.

You give her a lopsided smile, doing your best to charm your way out of the situation. The compulsive honesty from earlier isn't nagging at you anymore, but really, there's no need to sugarcoat anything in this case.

“Sounds like someone's a little jealous,” you tease lightly. And there it is again—that distant chorus of an audience, laughing on cue. You really need to talk to Wanda about this; it could be linked to all the experiments she's been doing with her powers.

Wanda barks out a forced laugh right into your smirking face. “Jealous? Me? There's no way I'm jealous of anyone, especially not Geraldine.”

“Then why did you look like you wanted to throw her out yourself when she showed up?”

Wanda's smile fades a tad, then she just shrugs. “Because she was interrupting our family dinner time. That's all.”

Normally, you'd draw this out until she admits she's jealous, but that could take all night. Right now, all you want is to kiss your beautiful wife, the only one you see. It's getting late, and not being able to touch her all day is driving you a little mad with want.

“Fine, you're not jealous,” you whisper, moving in, wrapping your arms around her waist. “Why would you be? You’re the prettiest, smartest, most amazing woman anyone could ask for.”

Wanda melts into you almost instantly. “You love me.”

“You love me too,” you say before leaning in to peck her lips. She hums happily against your lips, but just then, you hear the boys complaining about being hungry. Sharing a smile, you both head back to sort out dinner.

The episode ends, credits roll, and Darcy groans, tossing her head back. “No way. I need more of this,” she huffs, stabbing her finger at the screen. “They're perfect together. Shame Y/N’s supposedly dead. I hate spoilers.”

“She doesn’t look dead to me from here,” Jimmy says.

“My theory? That’s not actually her. I bet Wanda or someone did something to make a rando look like Y/N.”

“You think?”

Darcy nods. “With all the surreal stuff happening here? Yeah, I'd put money on it, dude.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Jimmy concedes. “Anyway, it’s a relief to see Agent Rambeau’s alive and kicking.”

“As Geraldine,” Darcy reminds him. “I wonder who chooses their names for them. Back to Y/N, what did that Howard guy have to say about Y/N being dead but so alive in Westview?”

“It’s Hayward,” Jimmy corrects her with a sigh. “He doesn’t seem interested in her or anyone else trapped inside. He’s more interested in the energy field surrounding the town.”

“And their boys?” Darcy adds, not listening to Jimmy’s rant. “We don’t have any public record of their true identities in Westview, right?”

Jimmy gives her a sidelong glance. “No records, no data. As far as Westview’s concerned, they just… appeared.”

“Typical,” she mutters, jotting down notes without looking away from the TV's static, hoping there’s a bonus episode or something.

But the screen stays blank, nothing but static for hours on end.

–

After hours of making love, Wanda lies next to you, watching you sleep. She’s used her powers on you before, but never here, never without your consent since you became a couple. Casting the hex was the easy part, the lying to you—not so much. Acting like she didn't know what was troubling you had hurt her more than she let on. 

She wanted to check if you were still happy here, still content, or if doubts were starting to creep in. And knowing you—the real you—you'd probably lie to Wanda just to keep her happy, just to ensure she has everything she wants. You've always prioritized her needs over your own, always stepping aside to let her shine. She wants the same for you, but you always manage to outdo her in every act of self-sacrifice.

When you started asking her about the exact dates of the wedding you thought you two actually had, it confirmed you still had no idea why you’re here, or what she’s done. She was relieved, honestly, because it meant she could stop forcing you to tell the truth, a spell she’d put on you out of desperation more than distrust.

She isn't sure how long this will last, just that it might be the most happiness she'll ever know, even if it's a delicate, fleeting kind. How did she even do this? Wanda doesn’t even know. It just happened—like a rose that has sprouted off a barren land. And now, despite having everything she's ever wanted, there’s always this nagging fear that it could all fall apart.

Quietly, she makes a promise to herself to fix things. She promises to you and her boys, she’ll find a way to make this life real, something that won’t just vanish like everything else she’s ever loved.