#didn’t see that one coming when i woke up this morning
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thesecondhandwoman · 2 days ago
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A CLOSE CALL
Sevika x f!reader
Summary: Sevika was always used to being the saver, never the one saved. But when she went on a mission with you, and it suddenly went south, she experienced opposite roles for the first time.
Request: @veasvka
Sevika was used to danger. She’d built her life on it, thrived in it, and learned to fight her way out of any corner. Missions for Silco were usually straightforward: go in, get what he wanted, leave a mess behind. This time should have been no different.
It wasn’t.
The stolen shimmer was in their hands, but the ambush had been waiting. Fists, blades, and bullets tore through the warehouse as the fight escalated far beyond what Sevika anticipated.
And, for the first time in years, she hadn’t seen it coming.
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It happened so fast that she didn’t realize at first. Her mechanical arm swung forward, pulverizing the face of some unfortunate bastard. Blood sprayed, her eyes locked on the next threat. But she didn’t see the man behind her, moving silently, blade raised high, aimed for the base of her neck.
She heard a shout—your voice—cutting through the chaos.
“Sevika!”
A split second later, she felt the impact. Not the blade piercing her skin, but the weight of your body hitting hers, followed by the sickening sound of steel cutting into flesh.
Her stomach dropped.
She spun just in time to catch you as you fell, the blade slipping free from your side. Blood poured from the wound, staining her gloves as she cradled you against her. “No,” she breathed, her voice shaking with fury and panic. “No, no, no.”
Your face twisted in pain, your hand clutching weakly at her vest. “Got you… covered,” you gasped, trying to smile.
“You idiot!” she barked, though her voice cracked. Her heart pounded as she pressed her hand against the wound, trying to staunch the bleeding. “You didn’t need to do that!”
The attackers were retreating now, frightened by her rage as her mechanical arm lit up with a menacing hum. But none of that mattered. Only you mattered.
“I couldn’t let them…” you choked, coughing weakly. “You’re too important.”
Sevika froze at your words, the weight of them crashing down on her like a tidal wave. “Stop talking,” she snapped, though her voice softened, her tone desperate. “Save your strength.”
You didn’t argue, but your hand found hers, squeezing weakly before your eyes fluttered closed.
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The trip back to the Last Drop was a blur. Sevika carried you, her teeth gritted against the rising panic in her chest. Vander’s medics worked quickly, but they couldn’t hide the grim expressions on their faces as they fought to stabilize you.
She stayed by your side the entire time.
Hours passed, and the night crept on. Sevika sat in the corner of the room, her head in her hands, replaying the moment over and over. The sight of you falling, the sound of your pained gasp—it all gnawed at her. She’d faced death countless times, but the idea of your death? That was unbearable.
She should’ve protected you. That was her job, wasn’t it? She was the shield, the one who took the hits. But now? You’d taken one for her, and it made her feel hollow. Weak.
She glanced up at you, lying still in the bed, your breaths shallow but steady.
“You’re not allowed to leave me,” she muttered, her voice barely audible.
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The next morning, you woke slowly, your body heavy and your side burning with pain. You blinked against the dim light, your head turning to see Sevika slouched in a chair beside you, her metal arm resting on the table, her flesh hand holding yours.
“Sevika?” you rasped.
Her head shot up, her eyes wide with a mixture of relief and anger. She leaned forward, gripping your hand tighter. “You’re awake,” she said, her voice rough with emotion.
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice weak. “Hurts like hell, though.”
“Good,” she snapped, though the corners of her mouth twitched. “Serves you right for pulling a stupid stunt like that.”
You smiled faintly, your gaze softening as you looked at her. “You would’ve done the same for me.”
“That’s different,” she growled, pulling her hand away to rake it through her hair. “I’m supposed to protect you, not the other way around.”
“Sevika…” Your voice was gentle, but firm. “You’re not invincible. I wasn’t going to let you die.”
Her jaw clenched, her gaze dropping to the floor. “You don’t get it,” she said quietly. “I can’t…” She stopped, exhaling sharply. “I can’t lose you. Do you know what that would do to me?”
You reached out, your fingers brushing against her metal arm. “You didn’t,” you said softly.
Her shoulders sagged, her usual confidence stripped away. “This can’t happen again,” she said, her voice cracking slightly. “I don’t care what happens to me, but you? I can’t—”
You squeezed her arm, silencing her. “We take care of each other,” you said firmly. “That’s what this is. That’s what we are.”
Sevika stared at you for a long moment before sighing heavily. She leaned forward, resting her forehead against the edge of your bed. “You’re too damn stubborn,” she muttered.
“Look who’s talking,” you teased, earning a small, shaky laugh from her.
She lifted her head, her expression softer now. “Just… promise me something,” she said. “No more heroics. Let me take the hits, okay?”
You hesitated before nodding. “Deal, but only in understandable circumstances .”
Slightly satisfied, Sevika leaned back in her chair, the tension in her body easing slightly. She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face with surprising tenderness.
“Get some rest,” she murmured. “I’ll be here.”
You gently smiled, giving a final nod before slowly closing your eyes and sinking back into slumber. And the only thing that was truly letting you rest was the fact that you knew she would be there when you woke up, like always.
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daisymbin · 2 days ago
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Hi!!
Can you please write a drabble for jeonghan using the fluff prompts #23 and #39?
hi love!! I'm sorry again, my mistake 😓 if I had checked my ask earlier that I could ask which prompt so you don't have to wait so long 😢 hopefully this slightly longer fic makes up for it!!!! thank you for waiting 😽🤍
request your own: full prompt list!
check out my masterlist! // hannie's m.list
fluff prompt #23: "you stayed up all night taking care of me?" +
fluff prompt #39: "you talk about me in your sleep, you know?"
jeonghan woke up to the soft hum of sunlight filtering through his blinds and the faint rustle of movement nearby. his head throbbed, his mouth felt like cotton, and the events of the previous night were a blur. blinking against the bright light, he groaned and shifted slightly, immediately regretting the motion as nausea crept in.
“you’re awake,” a familiar voice said, cutting through the fog in his brain.
he turned his head toward you, sitting in his desk chair with your arms crossed, looking both relieved and annoyed. your hair was slightly disheveled, and your tired eyes met his.
“morning,” he croaked, his voice hoarse. “what happened?”
you raised a brow, clearly unimpressed. “you got drunk. like, really drunk. i had to bring you home because you kept whining that you felt sick.”
he winced, his memory offering little more than flashes of the night. “oh.”
you stood up, walking over to his bedside with a glass of water and some painkillers. “and then you wouldn’t stop complaining, so i stayed up to make sure you didn’t choke on your own stupidity.”
“you stayed up all night taking care of me?” he asked, his voice quieter now, laced with something he wasn’t sure he wanted to unpack.
“someone had to,” you replied, handing him the glass. your tone was matter-of-fact, but the way your eyes lingered on him, soft and full of concern, made his chest feel strange.
he sipped the water, trying to ignore the way his stomach flipped. “did i… do anything embarrassing?”
you leaned back against the wall, crossing your arms with a smirk. “oh, plenty. but my favorite part was when you started talking in your sleep.”
jeonghan froze, his hand hovering mid-air. “what?”
you raised an eyebrow. “yeah, you talk about me in your sleep, you know?”
his heart skipped a beat. “what did i say?”
your smirk widened. “you don’t remember?”
“obviously not!” he shot back, feeling his face heat up.
you tilted your head, pretending to think. “hmm… let’s see. you said my name a lot, for one. i lost count after the fifth time.”
his stomach flipped. “just your name?”
you leaned forward, your grin turning teasing. “oh, no. you said other things, too.”
jeonghan groaned, covering his face with his hands. “what kind of things?"
last night
you had just managed to guide jeonghan into his bed, his arm slung heavily over your shoulders as he half-stumbled, half-leaned on you. “come on, jeonghan. you’re almost there,” you huffed, trying to keep him upright.
“you’re so strong,” he mumbled, his words slurring. “like… really strong. you could probably carry me, huh?”
“i’m already carrying most of your weight,” you muttered under your breath, ignoring the way his words made your cheeks warm.
as soon as his head hit the pillow, jeonghan let out a long sigh. you thought he’d drift off immediately, but instead, he mumbled, “you’re so nice to me. always so nice.”
you froze, hovering by the edge of his bed.
“you smell nice, too,” he added, his voice muffled by the pillow. “like… flowers or something. but not too strong. it’s just… perfect.”
your heart skipped a beat, and you slowly lowered yourself into the desk chair, unsure if he was fully asleep or just delirious.
“wish i could tell you,” he mumbled, his voice so soft you almost missed it. “wish i could say how much i…” he trailed off, his breathing evening out as he falls asleep.
you thought he was done for the night, but then, an hour later, he added, “want to take you out sometime. somewhere nice. you deserve that. wanna take angel out on date.”
angel? but that's his nickname for you...
your heart raced and ached at the vulnerability in his voice. you sat there in silence, watching his peaceful face, the weight of his words settling over you.
“you’re too good for me,” he whispered, the words barely audible. “but i’m selfish. i want you to be mine.”
[-]
“so,” jeonghan said now, dragging you back to the present, “what exactly did i say?”
you shrugged, playing it cool despite the way your heart raced. “oh, just that you think i’m nice and smell like flowers.”
he blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process your words. “i said that?”
“mmhm,” you hummed, biting back a grin.
“and…?” he prompted, clearly fishing for more.
“and you said you want to take me out sometime,” you added, your voice casual but your cheeks warm. "on a date." you added softly.
jeonghan stared at you, his expression unreadable. then, slowly, a smirk tugged at his lips. “sounds like me.”
you rolled your eyes, pretending to be annoyed, but your heart betrayed you, hammering in your chest.
he shifted closer, resting his chin on his palm, his grin playful but his voice quieter. “so, how about it? i’m free this weekend. dinner, your pick. i owe you for, you know, saving my life or whatever.��
“is this how you ask someone out?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.
“well, it’s not every day i find out i confessed in my sleep,” he countered, a nervous laugh slipping through. “but… you’d say yes, right?”
you faltered, his unusually earnest tone catching you off guard. “you’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
jeonghan’s laugh was immediate, light and relieved. “i’ll take that as a yes.”
“don’t make me regret it,” you warned, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed your words.
“trust me, you won’t,” he said, his confidence returning. “and for the record, i’d totally carry you to bed if the roles were reversed. just saying.”
he grinned, leaning back against the pillows with a smug expression. if his heart was racing, well, that was for him to deal with later.
“jeonghan!”
his signature smirk firmly in place. "what’s wrong? cat got your tongue, or are you just mesmerized by me again?" he teased, his voice low and honeyed as he moved closer. the confidence he exuded was disarming, but you caught the flicker of something softer in his eyes — a nervousness he couldn’t quite hide.
you rolled your eyes, though your pulse quickened as he closed the distance. "you wish," you muttered, but your breath hitched when his hand brushed against your cheek, his fingers ghosting over your skin.
“oh, i know,” jeonghan said, his grin widening. yet, as he cupped your face more firmly, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth, his playful facade cracked. his throat bobbed in a swallow, and you noticed the way his eyes darted between your lips and your gaze, like he was trying to decide if he was allowed to take this leap.
“you’re awfully quiet now,” he murmured, though his voice lacked its usual bravado. “nervous?”
“are you?” you shot back, emboldened by the faint tremor in his hand.
“terrified,” he admitted, almost inaudibly, before he leaned in.
the first press of his lips against yours was tentative, a soft, testing thing that quickly gave way to something hungrier when you didn’t pull back. his hands slid to your waist, pulling you closer as his confidence returned in the way he kissed you—playful, teasing, with the occasional nip at your bottom lip that left you breathless.
you fisted the fabric of his shirt, grounding yourself as the heat between you grew. his smirk returned when he pulled away, his forehead resting against yours. “i told you, you can’t resist me.” but his pink cheeks betrayed him, revealing just how badly he’d wanted this.
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writingblogsandothers · 2 days ago
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The Chosen One
Part 6
Writer's Note: A bit shorter, this one! Sending all the love, as per X
Word Count: 1.5k
Warnings: Mild Taunting/Teasing // Mild Fear // Mild kissing // Mild indications of sleeping together (nothing overly descriptive)
Use of She/Her/Lady - Female Pronouns
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5
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Aurelia woke from her sound slumber with a glimmer of light beaming through the heavy curtains that adorned her windows. She could hear a gentle snore, and when she looked over to her left, she saw a shirtless Geta lying next to her. She studied him carefully. His eyelashes lay curled against his soft cheeks. His nose, perfectly curved. Lips, plump and kissable as she only realised too quickly last evening. He was like a drug, the finest opium of the land wouldn’t be as addictive as he was.
The prior evening was everything she could have dreamt of and more. Geta was no longer so tyrannical, but loving and caring. He took his time with her, ensuring she benefitted from all actions and caressed her gently. She hoped this Geta was here to stay.
Geta stirred from his sleep, opening one eye to see Aurelia staring at him with intent. He smirked at her, “Good morning Wife, I trust you slept well?” Aurelia nodded, smiling, “Yes Husband, the best sleep in years.” Geta scoffed in response, getting up from her bed and walking toward her chair where his robe lay. Aurelia didn’t like to admit, but she did sneak a look at his great stature as he strutted over to the chair.
“I have to leave to attend to brother’s meeting. It’s to do with our games.” He strutted over to her bedside, crouching down to meet her face, taking it in his hands, whispering “Keep the bed warm for me…” he kisses her gently to which she blushes in response. Geta storms out with authority, while Aurelia forces herself to get up and prepare for her day.
***
The day was uneventful, and Aurelia made her way to the dining hall where she was met with Geta and Caracalla, as well as some of his cronies. She sat beside Geta who looked to her and held out his hand to take hers in his.
“Brother, don’t let it go to your head… seeing you so weak, holding hands, looking like a love-sick lion cub, it’s not a good look for an emperor.” Caracalla seethed.
Geta looked back to his brother, “Caracalla, maybe you should find yourself a wife. It may help you to think clearer…”
Caracalla laughed, “Ha, ha. Brother, how you amuse me with your fickle thoughts.”
The two engaged in an icy stare for some time before Caracalla began again, “Aurelia, I was just telling your betrothed of my plans for your games to celebrate your union.”
In a bid to try and win Caracalla over, Aurelia entertained him. “Oh Emperor, please do enlighten me – what excitement can we expect?”
“I have planned many festivities, naval battles, chariot racing, the lot. But I was just telling Geta – we want new blood. I have our troops out now gathering new men to fight. Oh it shall be wonderful, aren’t I great at crafting gifts for others?!”
Aurelia smiled back, fearful of the sick mind of her brother-in-law. She was far from naïve; she knew what this meant. Games meant death. Games meant bloodshed. Games meant innocent animals being slaughtered, maimed and injured all for the enjoyment of the crowds, and more so to fulfil some sick desire within Caracalla, and dare she even think, Geta.
She replied, “Yes Emperor, you are most kind.” Geta squeezed her hand in response to acknowledge her appreciation for his brother.
“I proposed the games begin tomorrow, the sooner the better. I shall meet you both on the royal balcony at midday. General Acacius and Lucilla will be in attendance, as well as a new friend of mine. I think you will both love him. Until then, I bid thee a good evening.” Caracalla rose from his seat, whistling at the two males, and three females who were littered around him to follow him.
Geta stood, “Come Empress, let us get you prepared for tomorrow’s festivities.”
***
Tomorrow arrived in the blink of an eye. Alba swarmed into Aurelia’s room, helping her pick out a baby blue dress for the first day of the games. “Empress, are you ready for the starting of your ceremony?”
“Yes Alba, I am not sure what to expect however.”
“My Lady, just sit and smile. It will appease both Emperor’s and crowd.”
Aurelia nods while Alba applies blush and eye liner. She steps back to admire her handy work, “Beautiful. Now my lady, let us get you down to the royal balcony.”
As they made their way down the hall and approached the royal balcony, they were stopped by a guard. “Where do you think you are going?” the guard barked. Aurelia was taken aback, “Sir, I am here to be seated with my husband.” The guard roared in laughter, “Pah! As if you would be married to anyone seated in here.” Aurelia had flash backs to how she once felt when she was first appointed into the palace. The commotion outside had perked the ears of those within the balcony. Geta stood to see his wife, looking beautiful as ever, crying outside the entry way.
He approached the steps, and shouted “What’s going on here?” The guard turned around and bowed, “Emperor, this imposter is trying to gain access to the balcony. I must banish her at once.” Geta took stride down the steps and approached the guard, “Does that make you feel big belittling my wife like that? Hmm?” The guard was completely taken aback, “Sire, I-I” “Yes, you opened that big ugly mouth of yours before you thought and took in her beauty. Look at her. She’s mine. My possession. She should be welcomed in here with open arms. Yet here you are, a low-life like you. You have belittled her in front of her subjects. Apologise. APOLOGISE TO AURELIA NOW.”
“Empress, forgive me, I did not realise it was you. I-”
“ENOUGH PEASANT. She will not give you forgiveness for you are not worthy. Now, I think there is a lovely spot for you out there in the theatre, don’t you brother?”
Geta turned and sure enough Caracalla was close at hand, “Oh yes brother! Nothing would please me more to issue him to join in the games – how fun!”
The guard was ushered by two others who brought him to the lower levels to meet his fate. Geta took Aurelia by the arm, “Are you okay, my love?” Aurelia looked to him with great adoration, despite him essentially signing a man’s life away, “Yes, Emperor.” With a smirk, he led her into the balcony, when she was stopped by Lucilla. She took her into her arms, an embrace which Aurelia greatly appreciated. She handed her a small bunch of lavender, “For the smell, my dear. It can send one astray – this keeps the senses pleasant for a while.” Aurelia thanked her greatly, she was a kind lady and one she liked to keep as a friend. She greeted Acacius with a curt bow, to which he took her hand and kissed it gently. Caracalla was next, to whom received the same greeting, he kissed her hand and took her into an embrace which shocked her, “Sister, I think you are going to love the Gladiator march – it’s the first thing to happen!” She giggled and thanked Caracalla for his efforts.
“Oh, please allow me to introduce you to Macrinus – he is a new friend. He produces only the best gladiators, all of which are featured here today.”
A tall, bearded man stood to take Aurelia’s hand in his, “Pleasure to meet you Macrinus.” He bowed and gently kissed her hand, “Pleasure is all mine, Empress.” She curtly nodded and made her way to Geta, who took her hand in his and approached the front of the balcony, waving to his subjects and showing off his new wife.
They made their way to the seats, when the Master of Ceremonies announced the Gladiator March. “Oh, this shall be fun!” Geta had a menacing look in his eye, and looked over to his brother where they shared a hand hold and a giggle to one another. Aurelia sighed, trying to keep up appearances and not look so concerned for the gladiator’s well-being. The march began, and droves of fighters took to the arena, each one marching around and forming almost snake-like formations. Marching. Marching. Marching. Until two particular gladiators caught her eye. She felt like she knew them from somewhere. She leaned forward in her seat and squinted her eyes in a bid for clearer eye-sight. She audibly let out a loud gasp and threw herself back in her seat. For she realised she did know the two.
It was her brothers.
Looking round to Geta, he was zoned in on the festivities, clueless to her outburst. Aurelia moved her eyes to Caracalla who grinned like a Cheshire cat, “Surprise!”
Part 7
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moonandstarshyuck · 1 day ago
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"Always."
lando norris x gn!bf!reader
notes: I haven’t written since 2019, so bear with me. I’ve found myself thinking about a little blurb for Lando recently (actually a lot of ideas, but this one is sticking with me more than the others at the moment).
For some context, Lando’s been receiving a huge amount of hate online (and in-person) recently. I haven’t been a fan for that long—I got into F1 this summer, in 2024—but I’ve grown to care about him. I was there for Lando losing the championship, and while I think we all knew it would come to this (Max winning felt inevitable) but I’m proud of Lando for pushing so hard this entire year.
Still, with all the hate directed at him, I’m seeing a new side of him, and I’m learning that he’s a person with feelings like anyone else. I can tell he doesn’t always have the highest opinion of himself and tends to take the blame for anything that goes wrong during his races. What struck me about this is how much I relate to it. I blame myself for things out of my control or when I mess up. What sucks with Lando is that his small, human errors are what so many people focus on to criticize him—whether it’s why he didn’t win the championship or why they think he’s a bad person (which he absolutely isn’t).
The inspiration for this came from an interview he did after the Brazilian GP. At that point, everyone knew it was almost mathematically impossible for Lando to win the championship, and he talked about struggling in the aftermath: “I literally couldn’t sleep for the first two days…So I did like, what, 36-40 hours straight. So that probably made everything worse. When you’re tired, you’re more moody, and that kind of thing…I was just sat at home alone. It probably would have been better if I had been with my friends. But they don’t live in Monaco. They also have lives and are busy doing other things. And I’m a big overthinker, so like the whole flight home, the whole week, it just played over and over in my head. What could I have done differently? Why did I do that? Why did I not do this? You start thinking of all the scenarios that you kind of blame yourself for, why it’s now not possible, that kind of thing. And yeah, because I overthink and I struggle with that kind of thing, that took a bigger toll in the days after. It wasn’t an easy time.”
And I keep on finding myself wishing someone could have been there for him in person, so that he was okay. So, I wrote this. The reader in this is dating Lando but is written as a gender-neutral character that uses They/Them pronouns. The reader also has a service dog, a Bernese Mountain Dog named Thunder, to help with their own depression and anxiety (I’m not an expert on service dogs, so this many not be 100% accurate).
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They woke up that early morning to the sunlight shining on their face, streaming in from the window outside. The bliss of sleep clung to them as they lay there, cocooned in warmth, the covers snug around their body. They stretched lazily, blinking their eyes open.
Instinctively, they turned to look beside them—only to find the space next to them empty. It’s too early in the morning to be anywhere else but in bed, even for training, they thought. Lando should still be here.
The realization pulled them out of their sleepy haze. The past couple of days had been not kind to Lando. They knew that he had a tendency to keep his feelings bottled up and beat himself up over his perceived failures. They understood that feeling all too well—the guilt, the constant sense of disappointment, the nagging thought that were never good enough. They had wrestled with those feelings since they were a child.
It wasn’t something that had an easy fix. If they had found the answer, they would have shared it with Lando years ago. But they had learned that the best way to fight those thoughts wasn’t isolation. Talking to someone, writing feelings down, even simple positive affirmations—thought they might sound silly—could help push back against the negative spiral. They had told Lando this countless times.
But Lando had a problem with not wanting to “inconvenience” anyone with his emotions. No matter how many times they reassured him that they were always there for him, he struggled to let himself. They didn’t blame him—it was human to struggle against your own mind.
What made everything worse was the constant online hate. Every little mistake or sarcastic comment from Lando seemed to turn into an avalanche of criticism. They remembered the first time they’d seen him like a hateful comment about himself on Instagram—the little heart next to a cruel statement, paired with note: “Creator liked this.” It had broken their heart. How could the Lando they loved ever believe such awful things about himself?
After Brazil, it had been clear that he wasn’t okay. He’d barely spoken since coming home, choosing instead to himself. They had given him space, hoping he’d find a way to process his feelings. But by the second morning, when he still hadn’t come to bed—almost forty hours after returning home—they knew they couldn’t stand by any longer.
That morning, they rose slowly from the bed, a plan beginning to form in their mind. Lanod needed someone to step in—someone to remind him he didn’t have to face his struggles alone. They were determined to be that person for him.  They couldn’t take it anymore, seeing the person they loved so badly, punishing himself over his ‘failures.’
The first step was to confirm where he was. Grabbing their phone, they opened Twitch and navigated to Max’s stream. After a few moments of watching, they heard Lando’s voice—tired, strained, but unmistakably his. He was joking with Max, his words clipped, like he was holding himself together with sheer willpower. It was enough to break their heart. They opened their messages with Max.
Thunder's Owner
Lan’s streaming with you rn?
Sent at 7:48 AM.
After a few seconds, Max replied.
Maximilian
Yeah he’s on voice-only.
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Gonna do something about him?
Sent at 7:50 AM.
Max knew. Of course he did. He probably heard the exhaustion in Lando’s voice, the edge self-loathing that came with overthinking. They typed back quickly:
Thunder's Owner
Yeah
Sent 7:52 AM.
Going to unplug his setup and drag him out of there.
Sent 7:52 AM.
Maximilian
Lol.
Sent 7:52 AM.
I’ll keep an eye out for when he disappears.
Sent 7:53 AM.
Thunder's Owner
Thx
Sent 7:54 AM.
They quietly made their way to Lando’s gaming room and eased the door open. Lando sat at his desk, controller in hand, headset clamped over messy curls.  He looked worn down, his shoulders slumped as he focused on the screen. His voice through, muted put playful, as he bantered with Max.
For a moment, they just watched him. Even now, he was handsome, but the tiredness in his expression made their chest ache. He deserved rest. He deserved to feel okay. And he wasn’t going to get that by sitting here punishing himself.
As soon as Lando died in-game and leaned back in his chair, they seized the opportunity. They crossed the room, catching his attention when they came into view.
“Why’re you—” Lando began, frowning, but they didn’t let him finish. Reaching down, they unplugged everything from the wall.
“What the hell—” he exclaimed, spinning around in his chair.
“No,” they said firmly, cutting him off. “I’m not you hurt yourself anymore. Get up.”
Lando blinked, clearly taken aback. “You can’t just do that!” he protested, but they were already tugging gently at him arm, urging him out of his chair.
“Angel, what are you—”
“No,” they repeated, their voice steady. “Get up,”
Lando hesitated for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and standing. They took his hand, leading him out of the gaming room and down the hall to the living room. He didn’t resist, but he followed like a man in a daze. Once they reached the couch, they turned to him. “Sit,” they said, pointing at the cushions. Lando raised an eyebrow, opening his mouth to argue, but they shook their head. “Stay.”
They turned to Thunder, who had been waiting for them in the hallway, and told him, “Thunder, guard,” while pointing at Lando.
The dog immediately moved into position, standing alert in front of the couch. Lando’s eyes widened slightly as Thunder fixed him with an unblinking stare. He shifted as if to get up, but Thunder’s stance didn’t waver.
“Jeez, I wasn’t going to get up,” he mumbled to Thunder, but Thunder just sat there and watched him until he fully relaxed back into the couch.
The thought ran through Lando’s head, how he had honestly forgotten how menacing his own dog could look. He knew Thunder was trained, saw reminders of it daily with how he interacted with his partner, but he was still shocked at how trained Thunder really was at that moment.
Thunder was still staring at him when he pulled out his phone from his pocket, opening up his texts with Max.
LN
I was just dragged out of my gaming room and told to sit on the couch and like a dog.
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Not against it, but how tf did they get so determined?
Sent at 8:05 AM.
Thunder’s watching me right now.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
I forgot how menacing he could be.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
*Picture attached.*
Lol.
Sent at 8:06 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
He’s like ‘try me, I dare you’
Sent at 8:06 AM.
LN
Yeah, I don’t particularly want to try him
Sent at 8:07 AM.
Max (The 1st One)
Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
They told me before they did it
Sent at 8:07 AM.
I just let them. Lol.
Sent at 8:07 AM.
LN
Helpful. What if they were trying to  kill me?
Sent at 8:08 AM.
They wouldn’t have had to if you kept doing what you were doing.
Sent at 8:09 AM.
Lando’s let out a quiet sigh, Max’s words sinking in. He glanced at Thunder, who hadn’t moved, and felt a pang of guilt. He’d pushed himself too far again, and this time it had clearly worried his partner.
A few minutes later, his partner walked back into their living room. He thought they looked beautiful, wearing one of his old t-shirts and a pair of boxers. They were entirely focused on the bowl they were carrying, and only looked up when they got close enough to hand it to him. He gently took the bowl, looked into it and saw it was one of his prep meals. While not his favorite breakfast, he knew he just needed to eat first, so he started taking bites.
He glanced up every so often, and each time he did, his partner was just sitting there and watching him eat. Lando almost chuckled at his own thought that they looked just like Thunder when watching him, and he smiled into his bowl at the thought. His partner didn’t see his smile, but he continued to eat until he had finished the bowl.
When he was done eating, he set the bowl down, and his partner again pulled him up by the crook of his arm. He just let them do so, having a thought of what was going to happen next.
His partner led them both down the hallway to their bedroom, and opened the door, leading him to sit on their bed, then they turned around and went to close their blinds and draw their black-out curtains to cover up the sunlight from the window. They had turned on their bedside lamp earlier, and the soft orange glow of the lamp permeated the room. They walked past him again, going to close the door after letting Thunder in, then they walked back to their side of the bed, and pulled him to lie down against them.
As he settled against their chest, he felt a bit odd, it being a bit of a difference to feel how much he was loved by them. How much they cared for him. And he finally spoke again, “Thank you.”
“Always, Lan. Always.” They replied, pressing a kiss to his hair.
And for the first time in days, he let himself sleep.
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author's note: got inspired to actually write something for once...ty @koalapastries for the inspiration (unknowing inspiration but ty) (also sorry for using your layout outline
comments & reblogs appreciated
and i made the dividers :)
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jlle-marie · 13 hours ago
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content: levi ackerman x fem!reader, mirror sex, mdni!! (1.7k)
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Today was one of those rare times when you woke up before Levi, who was still fast asleep beside you. To be honest, you weren’t used to waking up first, let alone having to wait alone.
He was sleeping peacefully, his features relaxed, and his little black locks messy. After spending a long time watching him, you started to feel bored lying in bed. Carefully, you untangled your body from his and got out of bed, heading to the bathroom to run a bath in the meantime.
The bathtub was filling slowly, the water trickling in softly. You undressed at the same leisurely pace, until all your clothes were off. Standing in front of the bathroom mirror, you looked at your reflection, enjoying the peacefulness of the morning.
Levi was awake in no time, noticing your side of the bed was empty as the sound of water coming from the bathroom reached his ears.
Still gazing at your body, you hear footsteps approaching followed by the familiar voice of your lover.
“Love, you’re already awake? Can I come in?” His voice is low and husky with sleep.
He doesn’t need to be told twice when you tell him to come in. You see him enter the bathroom, shirtless and still disheveled from sleep. His eyes widen slightly in surprise when he finds you standing completely bare in front of the sink mirror. 
Levi watches you with a sleepy grin. “Well, good morning to you too.”
You laugh softly. “Good morning. I thought you’d still be asleep. For once you were sleeping so peacefully I didn’t want to disturb you…”
He looks absolutely handsome. His sculpted body enhanced by the warm morning light streaming through the bathroom window is enough to stir a longing in you.
His gaze travels over your curves, taking in every inch of your bare skin. Levi was in awe every time he saw you, there would never be a time where he thought you weren’t anything less than perfect. And he can already feel his body starting to heat up.
Levi steps up behind you and presses himself against your back. “You look distractingly beautiful,” he whispers as he wraps his arms around your waist. 
He looks at your reflection in the mirror and leans his face forward to nuzzle your neck, kissing the sensitive skin while his hands roam over your body.
You tilt your head to the side, giving him better access to your neck. “And what if I was planning a solo bath time, hm?” You murmur, teasing him.
He lets out a low chuckle. “Well, I'm afraid you'll have to share this time. Can't let a beautiful woman like you have all the fun to herself.”
His hands slide up to cup your breasts and his thumbs grazes over your hardening nipples, eliciting a whimper from your lips.
He smiles and leans his face forward to whisper in your ear. “It’s not every day I wake up to find my girl naked in the bathroom first thing in the morning.” His eyes are fixed on where his hands are playing, with a hungry gaze.
“It feels so good Levi,” you moan as he keeps toying with your breasts. Looking forward, your gaze flickers between the satisfied expression on his face and his strong arms around you.
Hearing you moan drives him wild, he immediately brings a hand between your inner thighs to find your wet heat. 
Levi finishes guiding you until you’re against the counter, just inches away from the mirror. He begins to stroke you in a slow and torturously amazing pace, enjoying seeing your face in the mirror and chasing his own needs.
Soft moans escape your lip as he rubs your clit, circling it. You move against his fingers, and arch your back, encouraging him to keep going.
When Levi sees your face in the mirror getting more and more filled with lust he starts to feel impatient, aching to be inside you. “You’re ready for me, love?” He asks as he presses two fingers at your entrance. Feeling them entering with incredible ease he grunts. “Oh fuck, yes you are.”
Levi withdraws his fingers from you, making you whimper at the loss. Pulling back from you, he slides his underwear down and tosses it aside.
You were so focused on your pleasure that you forgot about the bathtub you’d been filling before he joined you. When you catch Levi’s reflection in the mirror, undressing, you also notice in the background that the water level is dangerously close to overflowing.
“Levi, the water!” You gasp.
He immediately understands and turns off the tub faucet just in time.
Coming back behind you, a low, amused rumble escapes him, his chest vibrating softly against your back as he chuckles at the situation. His hard length now springs free behind you. 
“Now where were we, love?” His voice drops into a more intimate register as he nuzzles and kisses your neck.
Your breath hitch as you feel him, hardened against your backside. You grind against him, drawing a low moan from both you and him.
Levi grabs his cock and slowly slides it between your thighs. He rubs the tip up and down your soaked folds, nudging against your entrance each time. You stand on tiptoe to try and get it in.
He chuckles in your neck at your demeanor and lifts up his head. His eyes meet yours in the mirror as he slowly enters you, his other hand holding your hip. “Is this what you need, my greedy girl?” He teases, his voice strained.
“Yes…” you exhale as you feel him pushing inside you, inch by inch. You brace your hands on the counter and your gaze locks with his, the heated intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch.
Levi groans and closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of being deeply enveloped by your warmth. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he fills you completely.
“It’s so deep…” you moan, feeling each of his thrusts stretch you a little more, your hands clutch the edges of the counter for support.
He sets up a gentle pace as he admires your reflection. Pulling out almost completely then thrusting back in with slow and deliberate movements. “So beautiful, so.. fucking.. beautiful,” he punctuates his words with deeper thrusts.
Levi’s eyes are locked onto yours in the mirror as he looks over your blissful expression, hearing your sounds only make him more aroused. “I never get tired of this,” he murmurs, his hot breath washing over your shoulder.
His lips are right against your ear so you could hear every sound he’s making, ragged breaths and sometimes low, tiny whimpers as he rolls his hips against you.
He moves one hand and gently turns your chin so you’re looking at yourself. “Don’t look at me, look at you my love. Look how pretty that body is, how lucky I am,” he pants in your neck, sucking on the skin there.
Then he lets his fingers trail down your chin and across your collarbone until they’re between your breasts, while he continues to make sure he’s leaving some marks on your neck.
Feeling a wave of embarrassment at the state you’re in, your gaze falters. Slowly, you drag your eyes away from him, tracing down to your trembling body before reluctantly meeting your own face.
“Good girl,” he breathes out when you look at your reflection. “Hand on the mirror, love... brace yourself,” Levi orders, his voice thick with need.
Without hesitation, you place a hand on the mirror, the motion causing you to lean slightly closer to it. Your flushed face and glossy eyes stare back at you. But your inhibitions fly out the window as the pleasure spikes.
As you obey, Levi starts to pick up the pace, thrusting into you harder. You feel him hit a special spot deep inside you, causing your eyes to roll back and your mouth to fall open with a silent cry.
He grunts, watching your lips fall open only makes him want to taste them even more but he also really wants to keep looking at your pleasured expression. “Keep looking, watch us…” his voice muffled against the skin of your neck.
The slapping noises that fill the room mingle with your soft moans and heavy breathing. You feel your knees start to buckle and your eyes struggle to stay open. You are losing control and Levi notices it. He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you up as your knees tremble. “I've got you, love…” 
Levi couldn’t stop himself from moaning at how hot he thinks your expression looks in the mirror, how much you are a mess for him. 
The sounds become wetter as Levi’s movements take on a sloppy pace. He leans forward to place open-mouthed kisses on your jaw and cheek as he hit a particular spot repeatedly. Your orgasm crashes over you first, your tight walls convulse around him as you cry out Levi’s name. Your head throws back against his shoulder, your voice echoing off the bathroom walls.
“Oh fuck I’m—” He trails off, seeing you ride out your orgasm through the mirror triggers his own release. With a strained grunt he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he spills his release. He holds you in place as you both ride out your orgasm.
He holds you close, his heart pounding in his chest, he stays buried inside you a moment, savoring the warmth of your body and the feeling of being satisfied.
Eventually, Levi pulls out slowly and spins you around to face him. He presses his lips to yours, kissing you slowly, as if it’s something he’s been longing to do all morning. “I love you.. I love you,” he murmurs against your lips.
Breaking the kiss, he leaves you breathless before pressing his forehead softly against yours. “I’m sorry my love, your bath might be a little cold now…” he says, but his smug expression shows no regret.
You laugh softly. “Yes, I'm very upset with you, Levi…” you whisper, cupping his face as you kiss him again. Pulling back, you meet his gaze with a soft expression.
“Upset, hmm?” He grins, backing your giggling body toward the waiting bathtub. His voice is low and teasing as he adds, “Come and show me how angry you are… in the bath."
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quintessenceofdust88 · 21 hours ago
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Little Blobs
Hey everyone!! I bring you a new chapter of Little Blobs on this fine Wednesday. From here on, I intend to follow a more logical timeline lol and we'll get to see how Buck's pregnancy progresses from the very start. I hope you enjoy it <3
“What's got you pouting so early in the morning, Buckaroo?" 
Hen’s voice, paired with the smell of fresh coffee, manages to snap Buck out of his mind. He accepts the mug she’s placing in front of him automatically, but he didn’t drink it; he’s too nauseous. Or too guilty. Or both. 
You see, there’s a reason why everybody calls Buck a human golden retriever. It was usually so rare for him to be in a mood, but lately... He’s so often tired, and so often nauseous, that it’s been hard to keep his spirits up. Like that morning with Tommy.
Even though they’ve been together for eighteen months, it was a rare occurrence for their shifts to align so perfectly that they could get ready for work together in the morning. Usually, those moments would make Buck giddy with the domesticity of it all. Not today, apparently.
From the minute he woke up, Buck had just been off, feeling tired and nauseous and out of sorts. And for no reason at all, he simply snapped at Tommy for the leftover fruit he had left in the blender (which, sure, could be a little annoying, but not *that* annoying). Buck knew right away that his "Damn, Tommy, how hard is it to keep things clean?! It's like living in a frat house again!" had been uncalled for. 
Tommy had looked at him in surprise, muttered a "Sorry, Evan" and turned his back to Buck, apparently laser-focused on washing the blender. Buck knew right then that he should apologize, but he was still too pissy to do it, and their goodbyes had been frosty when they left for their respective stations.
And that's how Hen finds him, staring at the void and wondering if he should text Tommy and let him know how sorry he is or wait to do it in person once their 48-hour shifts are over.
Before Buck knows it, he’s spilling out to Hen, kind of expecting her to call him out for being an idiot to his husband, but instead, Hen hums thoughtfully.
"Yeah, I can't help but notice you *have* been moody lately, Buck. Far too moody for a newlywed, if you ask me" She teases lightly, and Buck gives her a half-hearted smile.
"I promise you, Tommy’s not the problem” He reassures her.  “He’s not even complaining about my bitchiness and the fact I have slept on top of him every single time we've sat to watch a movie together for the last three weeks"
"Wait, you?!" Hen asks, her eyebrows going up. "Evan 'ball of energy' Buckley..."
"Buckley-Kinard" He corrects eagerly, his smile widening despite himself at that.
"My bad" Hen chuckles. "Evan 'ball of energy' Buckley-Kinard, falling asleep during movie nights? Aren’t you the one who’s usually researching fun facts and talking a mile a minute, instead of letting people actually listen to what’s going on?"
"Yeah!" Buck agrees, nodding enthusiastically, not even a little self-conscious; Tommy says his ramblings are cute. "But lately, I don't know, I... I thought maybe I was tired from wedding planning, but it’s been a month since we got married. I don’t know what’s going on, Hen"
"Hey, you two!" Bobby's voice interrupts whatever it is Hen planned to say. “Breakfast is about ready, wanna join the rest of us?”
And Buck intends to, truly he does. But the minute he approaches the kitchen and the smell of Bobby’s frittata reaches his nose, he can’t. The nausea that bubbles up in his stomach is too strong to ignore, and he finds himself rushing to the bathroom.
By the time he comes back, Bobby is waiting for him with worried eyes and a glass of ice cold water, that Buck gratefully sips slowly. 
“Alright there, Buck?” He asks, and Buck nods sheepishly, not liking the way everyone’s looking at him as if he’d keel at any moment. 
“Fine, Cap. Sorry about that. Think I caught a stomach bug or something” He mutters, still sipping his water, and Hen looks as if she’s about to add something when the bell rings. 
They don’t get a chance to sit down and talk again, not in private anyway, but Buck feels Hen’s gaze landing upon him all through their 48-hour shift. It’s especially sharp when he falls asleep in the middle of the afternoon and when he barely touches Bobby’s meatloaf at dinner.
It’s a look that Hen has when she feels someone’s being particularly dense, and Buck’s not completely sure what he’s done to deserve it this time, other than being overly snappy and tired. By the time their shift is over, he’s more than ready to go home, wait for Tommy (he had sent an apology text that morning after all, and Tommy’s easy forgiveness had almost made him cry. And just about half an hour ago, Tommy texted that he was caught on a call and would probably be late, which almost made him cry again) and sleep for the next 12 hours.
Before he can leave, though, Hen’s voice calls from inside the station.
“Buck, wait!” She says, approaching him with a small paper bag in her hands. 
“What’s that you got there, Hen? Don’t tell me you’ve gotten me a present” He teases her, and Hen looks uncertain.
“Well” She says carefully. “It all depends on how you’ll see things. And maybe I’m wrong anyway, but. I think you should take these” 
She hands him the bag, and Buck opens it up to see three different brands of pregnancy tests inside. He widens his eyes, looking from the bag to Hen, and she’s looking expectantly at him.
“Hen, you don’t think I’m…” Buck can’t even say it; the possibility had never crossed his mind, and yet… It feels like his brain is short-circuiting as he revisits his latest symptoms in his mind. 
“Well, why not? You are a carrier, aren’t you? You told me that when you were debating if you could be a surrogate to your friends” She says, and Buck nods dumbly. “And, well, I know you and Tommy get… busy with each other very often.”
“We…Well, yeah, but I take birth control” Buck says, frantically recalling the last few weeks in his mind and wondering if he could’ve forgotten to take the pill at some point. And then it dawns on him how frantic their wedding day had been, and yeah, he doesn’t remember taking it on that day. Or the day after. Or during their weekend honeymoon in San Diego (they had been… busy, as Hen would put it). “Oh, fuck, Hen, what if I’m pregnant?! I can’t be pregnant right now, it’s not the plan!”
“Buckaroo, I don’t know what the plan is, but life doesn’t tend to care for it. Maybe you’re not; I’m just saying it’s a possibility and you should check it” Hen says placatingly. “If it’s positive, you and Tommy will figure it out; if it’s negative, you owe me 30 bucks for the tests”
“There’s only one of me” He jokes automatically, but his mind is nowhere near it. “T-thanks anyway, Hen. I… I’ll take those as soon as I’m home” Before Tommy arrives, he decides; there’s no reason to get his husband worked up over nothing if they’re negative. And if they’re positive, Buck has some time to decide on how to tell him.
“You’re welcome, Buckaroo. When you have the results and are ready to share, let me know, ok? Good luck!”
She’s gone before Buck can ask if good luck means positive or negative. He’s not sure he knows what he wishes for right now.
Tommy turns off the engine in his truck, content to see Evan’s Jeep already in the garage. Content but not surprised, considering he got caught up in a search and rescue and is two hours late. He has a strong suspicion his husband’s been catching up on some sleep during those hours, because he hasn’t answered Tommy’s text asking what he wanted for dinner; he had gone with pizza as a safe bet, though Evan’s appetite had been all over the place lately. Tommy knows that the younger man can be stubborn about his health, but he will drag him to a doctor if he isn’t better by the weekend.
He tries to enter home without making much noise, putting the pizzas on the kitchen table. Evan’s not at the kitchen or living room, and the house is completely silent. Tommy makes his way to their bedroom, ready to gently wake Evan up so he can get some food in him before they go to bed for the night; they probably won’t get up to anything fun tonight, both of them exhausted from their shifts, but if Tommy has anything to say about it, they’ll spend the next 24 hours in their bed making up for it. 
But when he gets to their bedroom, he’s surprised by an empty and still made bed, and no husband in sight. Tommy frowns, starting to worry. 
“Evan?!” He calls. 
“I’m in here…” Evan answers, his voice coming from the en-suite bathroom that Tommy hadn’t even noticed was with the door ajar. Something in Evan’s voice makes Tommy rush to it, and he opens the door to find his husband sitting on the floor; he looks up at him with dazed eyes, his fist tightly clutched around something Tommy can’t see. 
“Babe, are you okay?! Was it your stomach again?” Tommy asks, kneeling down by his side and automatically raising his hand to feel Evan’s forehead; it’s not hot, and when he gently takes Tommy’s hand in his free one, Tommy sees it’s cold and sweaty. To his horror, he can also see tears pooling up in Evan’s eyes. “Did something happen, Evan?”
Evan laughs somewhat hysterically at that, which doesn’t help with Tommy’s nerves at all. Then he nods, caressing Tommy’s hand with his thumb, making gentle circles.
“Y-yeah, something happened. I… I figured out why I snapped at you the other day” He says, his voice thick, and Tommy lets out a sigh of relief. 
“Sweetheart, I can’t believe you’re still thinking about that. It was nothing, I already said I…” He doesn’t get to finish the sentence, though, because Evan is opening Tommy’s hand and pressing the three plastic sticks that he was so tightly holding against it. 
Tommy looks down at them with a frown, and his heart skips a beat when he realizes what they are: pregnancy tests. Two of them show two lines and, even if Tommy didn’t know what that means (he does; he absolutely does), the third one is a fancy digital kind that has the word in bold letters: PREGNANT. 
He looks from the tests to Evan, his mouth agape, and his husband’s looking back at him with expectant blue eyes and the tiniest hint of a frown between his eyebrows. 
“I… On the wedding frenzy I guess I forgot to take my pill” He says, and he takes Tommy’s stunned silence as a cue to continue. “I… I know it’s not the plan, I know we said we’d wait at least a year before kids, I…”
Tommy can’t take it anymore; in a move that has become signature by now, he grabs his chin and presses a gentle soft kiss against his mouth. When the kiss is done, Evan is the one left agape, while Tommy can’t stop a smile from widening across his face. 
“Fuck the plan, Evan. Are you happy?” He asks earnestly; Tommy knows he is, and the more it dawns on him, the happier he gets. But it’s Evan’s body and Tommy knows he’s much more of a planner than himself, so he’ll rein in the excitement if Evan needs to process this differently. 
But to his relief, Evan gives him that adorable crooked smile, looking down at the tests Tommy’s holding, and then at his own belly, then back at Tommy with eyes full of joy. 
“Yeah, I’m happy. I’m fucking thrilled, Tommy. We’re having a baby!” He says, as it’s just dawning on him, and hearing him say it out loud makes it dawn on Tommy too. 
They smile at each other like two idiots, and before Tommy knows it, he’s helping Evan up and pulling him in a tight hug, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. He lets out a delighted laugh, feeling happier than he’s ever felt before, except maybe for their wedding day. 
“We’re having a baby, oh my God, that’s incredible. You’re incredible” He says, resting his chin on Evan’s shoulder, and then with a dawning sense of realization, he steps back, looking at him worriedly. “Oh my God, are you okay?! Is the baby okay? Can you tell if they’re okay?! Damn we need to schedule a doctor’s appointment, and probably start thinking about a nursery, and you have to talk to Bobby and…”
“Babe” Evan interrupts him, sounding way too amused (Tommy’s not often the one to freak out between the two) as he puts both his hand in Tommy’s face, effectively shutting him up. “I’m sure the baby’s fine. I’ll talk to Bobby on my next shift, and we can figure out everything else tomorrow. Okay?”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re making sense” Tommy easily agrees, nodding and looking at Evan with a scrutinizing gaze. “Are you okay, though, Evan? What do you need?”
“I’m fine, Tommy” He says, his voice sounding between exasperated and amused, but Tommy doesn’t care if he’s being overbearing. Evan is the most precious person in the world to him, and now he’s carrying the other most precious person in the world to him. Tommy will do anything for him. “What I need is food. I’m finally not feeling nauseous and I wanna take advantage of it while it lasts. Please tell me you brought dinner?”
“You didn’t answer me, so I brought pizza. But if you want anything else, anything else, I’ll go and get it in fifteen minutes max. Just name it, babe” Tommy offers, and Evan smiles bashfully, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 
“Pizza is more than fine, but I might make use of this generosity at some point in the next nine months” He says, and Tommy knows it’s meant like a tease, but if anything, it sounds like a promise.
“Anytime you want” He says, and then his hand goes straight to Evan’s still flat belly. He can’t see or feel anything, but knowing their little one is there is enough to fill his heart for now. “For you two, anything, anytime”
“Hey” Evan says, putting his own hand on top of Tommy’s, his smile bright enough to outshine the Sun itself. “I love you”
“I love you too, Evan”
A smile spreads across her face, and she sends back a congrats, daddies!! before deleting both messages. Karen has full access to her phone and her to Karen’s, and she knows her wife can’t keep a secret for her life, so she won’t take any chances. But God is she happy for those two. 
When Hen’s cellphone dings, she’s about to go to bed; after coming home from their 48-hour shift, she had helped Karen with the kids’ nightly routine and the two of them had spent some time together watching TV and drinking wine after tucking them in. Now she’s pleasantly sleepy and ready to enjoy a good night of sleep and then three whole blessed days off.
And yet, her conversation with Buck has been on the back of her mind all day. When Hen sees the message she got is from him, it’s with eager hands that she unlocks her phone and opens their thread. There’s only two emojis and five words looking back at her: 👶🏻👍🏻 but don’t tell anyone yet!
One thing Hen knows: they’re going to be wonderful fathers. 
--
[More from Little Blobs Verse]
Tag list: (let me know if you'd like to be removed or if I missed anyone! Also if anyone else wants to be tagged, either on my fics in general or just the Little Blobs' Verse, let me know! ♥)
@bidisasterevankinard @unhingedangstaddict @silversky9 @music-is-the-voice-of-the-soul @asmugfirefighter @rubydaiquiri  @racerchix21 @actuallyitsellie
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fashionteahouse · 3 days ago
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Can I get a she fell first he fell harder where reader always had a crush on embry all throughout high school and always asked him out but he always rejected her nicely until she gave up then they meet again but she’s over him so he has to work extra hard to get her attention smut included???
ofc you can ! XD hope you enjoy :)
coming back - embry x reader
Barely being able to maintain eye contact, the floor and his shirt covered chest was more interesting. You felt fluttery and a fiery blush stained your cheeks.
“You dropped this.” he tells you. He held out a mitten that you dropped and you take it back.
“Thanks.” you say to him with a smile. He was so kind and warm. That’s why it was so addicting to be in his presence. You watch starry eyed as he walked away.
With his body now out of your view, your eyes then flicker to a paper hung up on the hallway wall.
You weren’t going to go. But, you had a newfound form of hope.
The next morning, you woke up earlier than your usual wake up time.
You made sure to make sure you looked extra nice.
You found him at his locker, he was alone. He was taking his jacket off to put it in there. You tap his shoulder as you walked up behind him.
He turns around and says hi, remembering the interaction from yesterday. He displayed a kind smile. Your heart skips a beat as you see that what he’s wearing looks great on him.
“I just um… wanted to know if you were going to Homecoming?” you say, you tried to hide the fact that you were nervous.
“Mm…I don’t think so. Are you?” he asks after thinking of the idea of going to a school dance.
“Yeah. I mean..I don’t know..But, um we could like..Go together?” you offer. There, you threw it out there.
A soft smile, “Oh. I think I’m going to sit this one out. But, thanks for asking though.” he says and off he goes to where his friends were at.
You sigh in defeat.
You didn’t go as well. You didn’t want to see people at your school dressed up for a dance and Embry wasn’t there. You still had hope.
You still made sure to speak to him when you did see him. He kept it brief.
One day in science class, it was a lab day. The teacher wanted the students to do a gravity experiment with dropping small balls and calculate how long it took for the small ball to drop to the ground.
The thing was, she wanted everyone to do it in the hallway since there was a balcony that showed the first floor of the school.
You were partnered up and you ran down the steps to retrieve the ball from the first floor. Your partner wrote down the time as they paused the stop watch.
Scooping the ball into your hand, you look over and see Embry walking.
“Hey.” you say with a smile.
“Hi.” he says back. He kept walking. You were a bit sad that he wasn’t curious about what you were doing, or showing interest that he wanted to talk more.
You did your best. Wearing what looked good, putting effort into your appearance. You stared at him as he would walk past. One time, he did look, but he just kept walking.
You heard his friends, wishing him a happy birthday. You smile as you look at the date, you made sure to keep note of the day’s date.
When he was in line at lunch, luckily his friends didn’t join him yet.
“Hey, birthday boy.” you say, he turns to see you and he chuckles lightly.
“Hey.”
“Have any plans?”
“Uh..Not really. Most of my friends have work. We’re going to celebrate it on the weekend.” he answers.
“Well..I could take you out. My treat.” you say.
He takes a look, you’re glad that you look nice today, the smile you gave him showed a lot of interest and you watched his eyes as he made a decision.
“That’s okay. I will just chill at home. Thanks for asking though.” he says with a polite smile and carries his tray away.
Your shoulder slump forward due to defeat. Even though luck was not on your side, you still had an ounce of hope.
You however, found yourself getting a tad bit jealous when he would laugh or talk to a girl that wasn’t you.
You wanted to know how it felt to have all of his attention.
You still cling onto your hopes when it’s time for prom. Your friends actually had dates and you wanted to go for the last bit of experience.
Hearing the prom date over the intercom during morning announcements, an idea pops into your head.
Smoothly walking to where he was, he took a quick drink out of the water fountain.
He smiled a bit when he seen you, your heart leaped with hope and joy. You smile back and ask him how his day is going, you were going to try the smooth approach.
“It’s going okay. How’s yours?” he asks. You seeped into the conversation, “Eh, it’s alright.” He’s walking leisurely and you’re walking side by side with him.
“Are you going to prom?” he asks you. You almost felt like you were dreaming, you nod with enthusiasm.
“Are you?” you ask. You watch as he thinks for a bit.
“Yeah. Are you going with someone?” he asks you.
You shake your head.
“Are you?” you ask and start to smile. He nods a bit, “Yeah. I got asked.” he laughs a bit.
“Oh…” you say and your entire expression is crestfallen.
“We’re going as friends but, still. Hey, at least I will see you there.” he says and before you realized it, you were outside of his classroom.
“Yeah. See you there.” you say sadly and watch him walk in the classroom and greet a friend of his.
You had to walk the walk of shame to your own classroom.
At prom, you tried to have a good time. Your friends even abandoned their own dates for a moment to include you. Your eyes kept looking over the girl that won Embry’s yes.
She danced with him, she laughed with him, and she even complimented your dress when you got something to drink. You couldn’t even dislike her even if you wanted to.
Life after high school had been easy on you. Studying for a career path that you have been passionate about, made you have passion for life for the future.
Coming back home for the holidays, you were happy to see your old friends on Christmas break.
The day before Christmas Eve, you stopped at a store to buy some gift wrapping paper. That’s when you saw him. You didn’t get the same fluttery feelings you had and to be honest, he crossed your mind but not in a romantic way. You would laugh lightly to yourself how intense you felt about the hopeful teenage romance. You were glad that he had a kind nature.
He was the one that spoke to you first.
“You’re back.” he says with a smile. He was in front of you in line and he turned around.
“Yeah. How are you?” you say politely.
“I’m good. And you?”
“Great.” you say.
“How long are you here for?” he asks you.
“Just until after New Years.” you just say and plan to leave it at that.
“Cool. We get to see each other often until you leave, then.” he says.
You give him a tight lipped smile and nod a bit.
He noticed your reservedness and another cashier opened their register and says she can take the next person in line in her line.
“See ya.” you just say and walk to the new cashier.
Embry was going to say something before you were out of your sight but you moved too fast, making his words get caught in your throat.
On Christmas Eve, you all exchanged gifts, each of you having a secret Santa.
It was nice and warm and you all talked about the good old days of high school.
Your friends knew you weren’t Embry-crazy anymore, you barely brought him up.
On a spur of the moment, you all go to the favorite coffee shop that you all loved. You got the hot chocolate and it tasted better than you imagined it would.
“I so miss this.” you say as you chew on the hot and semi-melted marshmallows.
Hums of agreement follows as they drink their own drinks.
You hear a bell and you look up and see that it’s Embry. You didn’t know he enjoyed this place too. You shrug and continue to drink your drink and fall into the table’s conversation.
“Y/N. Crazy we run into each other again.” he says with a smile. You lick the top of your lip a bit as the speck of whipped cream was resting there and you nod.
“I know right.” you say and continue your sip. Silence was met for a moment before your friend says that they’re done and if you guys were joining them in going back to the car. You all agree and you rise up and put your coat back on.
As your friends are deep in their chatter, he comes close to you and says to you in a hushed tone, “You have any plans for tomorrow?”
“Um..” you think for a moment, you were going to stop past your family’s home, but other than that, you were going to go back to your friend’s to spend the remainder of the day with them.
“Just celebrating with them and my family but, it was nice seeing you, though. I’ll see you around.” you say and walk out of the door with your friends.
He didn’t know how he could have messed it up. You weren’t the awkward teenager that he would see around school. The conversation was different.
You even looked different. You’ve grown into the woman that looked comfortable in their skin.
“Guys we should see the Christmas lights in the city!” your friend says as you all walk to the car.
“In the cold? No way.” you say, your teeth chattering at the light snow that started to fall.
“Come on. We don’t have to stay long.” they plead. You agree. They’re excited.
Christmas morning, you seen your family. Exchanged gifts, ate a bit of the dinner that was cooked and went on your way.
Walking through the city, your hands was trying to loosen the mittens so you can stick your hands in them. It wasn’t snowing when you left out, but it was starting to fall more gradually.
Dropping the mitten, you sigh a bit and lean down to get it, but someone was faster than you. Looking up to thank the person, you seen that it’s Embry.
“You following me or something?” you ask but you were teasing him.
His face turned into a look of horror, “N-No. Not at all!” he says.
Laughing a bit at his panicked state, “I was kidding.” you just say and you take the mitten from him, “Oh, and thanks.” you say and you walk to catch up with your friends.
“Wait.” you hear him say. You slow down your pace, he walks beside you.
“Yeah?” you ask as the mittens were now on your hands and you were stuffing your hands in your coat pocket.
“You’re seeing the lights right?” he asks.
“Yeah. Are you?”
“Maybe.”
“Oh.” you just say and continue to walk.
“I wouldn’t mind seeing them with you.” he says.
“Oh. Cool.” you say, your face grimaced a bit from the cold wind that blew in your face.
He walked with you, you all saw the Christmas lights. You and your friends took pictures. You only commented back when he would comment about the sight.
Leaving, he touched your coat covered arm, “You’re leaving already?”
“Yeah. See ya.” you say with a polite smile and wave and go about your way.
Embry’s face was crestfallen, but you didn’t see it. Your back was facing him and you and your friends talked about the lights you all saw.
You offer to go to the liquor store to grab drinks for the upcoming New Year’s eve party.
You placed the heavy bottle in your basket and seen Embry come in. This time, with a friend of his. They nod to each other as you both go in different directions.
You go to wait in line.
You felt a tap. You turn around.
“Hey.” he says. You just nod in greeting. You turn back around.
“What kind of drinks did you get?” he asked.
You show him the labels of each bottle.
“You have plans for New Years?” he asks.
“Sorta. I’m going to a party.”
“Who’s party?”
“You don’t know them.” you say. It was true.
“That’s funny. I’m having a party.”
“Oh yeah? Well, have fun.” you say as you place the bottles on the checkout belt. You were up next and the person in front of you were already handing the cashier their money.
“You should come.” he says.
“And ditch my friends?”
“Bring your friends.”
“Mm. I’ll pass. But thanks anyway.” you say.
“Please?” he asks. You actually give it some thought. “Oh what the hell.” you thought.
You fully turn to face him.
“I don’t know your friends. I barely know you, I just know you from the small interactions we had in school.”
“Get to know me then.” he says.
“Embry’s party?” your friend asks again. You nod.
“Uh oh. Here we go.” they laugh as they tease you.
“It’s not like that. I’m just going to show my face and we can leave.” you say and finish straightening out your outfit.
“Sure.” they say with a smirk and you nudge them to get them to be quiet. They just laugh instead.
You enter his home, it was a full house. The music vibrated the floor and you cross your arms as you scope the scenery.
A friend of yours scope out a guy they can talk to. You groan at the fact that they leave you to make their move.
You hear someone call your name.
“Hey.” you say.
“You made it!” he says with a smile.
“Uh huh.” you say as you take a look around. If it was his place, it wasn’t bad. People dancing and having fun with each other.
“Wanna dance?” he asks.
“Uh..Nah.” you say politely and move around him. He’s following you.
“Why not?” he asks, not in a pushy way, but in genuine curiosity. You shrug.
“I can’t dance.”
“Everyone can dance.” he says.
“Not true.” you say.
“Want me to show you?” he asks.
“Nah.” you say and ask, “What do you have to drink?”
“Anything you want.” he says. You chuckle.
“Seriously.”
“I am serious.” he says.
You walk away, while chuckling and shaking your head a bit in a friendly manner.
You had a drink in your hand as your friend was wrapped around a guy, them two explaining something that they had in common. It was evident they’ve been drinking, the loud passionate talking made you zone out a bit.
“You wouldn’t be bored if you danced with me.” he says and stands next to you on the wall.
“One dance. That’s it. You’re not making a fool of me.” you say in humorous fashion.
“Never.” he says.
You didn’t think you could be totally wrong. This moment, was true evidence that you had gotten a whiplash of emotions.
Everything that you felt like had been away, came slowly swimming.
An old blush came on your cheeks as Embry’s hands eventually pulled you close and moved your body with his to the music.
You didn’t want the song to be over. But, you already knew better. Stepping back with a small smile, you say, “I’m going to find my friends.”
You walk away before he could speak out, the transition of the next song was being blasted.
They were dancing with people they had gotten to know. Sighing a bit, you tried to socialize, seeing who else you could buddy up with.
They all just wanted to drink or take a shot. You didn’t want to get shit faced.
“Who are you going to kiss on the countdown?” he asks you as he stood close to you. Clearly feeling comfortable with the close distance since you two have danced.
“A drink.”
“That’s a waste.”
“What’s a waste?” you question and you fully face him and he’s wearing a handsome smile. You didn’t even realize how hard your heart was thumping until the silence fell into the air as he stared at your lips with hooded eyes.
You shake your head a bit as you felt like you were in a daze.
Sweaty bodies moved past you and you were back to the ugly reality.
“Are you leaving tomorrow?” he asks with a hint of sadness.
You shake your head, “The day after tomorrow.” He nods and keep note in his head.
“I want to see you before you leave.” he says.
“Why?” you whisper.
“I feel like I missed out on so much.” he whispers back.
Before you could respond, some shouts out, “Oh my god! Turn down the music!” The music is staring to turn down and Embry grabs your hand before you could process it.
He pulls you as the countdown from 20 seconds started to ring out.
Embry turns and counts down, “10…”
You catch on finally on, “5…”
By 3, you both are smiling and yelling with the rest of the room and shout, “Happy New Years!”
Cheering emerged and everyone held each other’s faces as they were pressed into each other. Laughing a bit, you see your friends occupied and you felt your chin being moved over and you were watching Embry’s face that was now in your view.
Inches turned into centimeters and before you both knew it, you shared your lips with Embry. You let him taste yours because he let you taste his.
The burning of your cheeks didn’t cool down when you guided some of your drunk friends in the car. You gave him your number and he did call.
He asks to see you. You go. After telling you his address, you knock on the hard wooden front door.
He opens it and looks happy to see you.
Your hands held up the wrapped covered gift.
You look to him as you both sat on his sofa.
“Open it.” he says.
You tear open the paper, your fingers slightly shaking.
You gasp a bit as you slightly smile.
It was a nicely sized stuffed animal that held a heart. It was wrapped good to where you wouldn’t have guessed. You lean over and give him a hug. He gladly returns it.
“I’m sorry, if I would’ve known you gotten me something, I would’ve got you something too.” you say as you look at the stuffed animal in your lap with appreciation.
“It’s alright.” he says and puts one arm behind you on the edge on the couch, “I have my gift here already.”
You look at him in confusion.
“Can we kiss again?” he asks. You look away and down at the gift he had gave you.
You shake your head a bit as you think and say, “If you would’ve asked me like two years ago, I would’ve hounded you.” you admit.
“I didn’t truly see what was in front of me.” he says.
“What changed? Why now and not then?” you ask.
He shifts to face you more on the couch, “I didn’t know what I want then. I know what I want now and it’s you.”
You just look at him. There was no hint of jokes, no hint of regret and most of all, no hint of shame.
“I wanted to let you know before you leave again.” he says. You nod in understanding.
“I don’t know.” you say. You felt confused.
“I’m sorry.” he says.
“It’s fine.” you say while smiling, “Where’d you get this?”
He tells you. He also told you how you were trapped in his mind as he was getting it.
“I wish we spent Christmas together.” he admits.
“That would’ve been nice..I suppose.” you say and look to him.
You lean and press a kiss of his cheek, you linger your lips there for a bit before pulling back.
He does the same, you huff out a nervous chuckle. He’s still close, he does it smoothly, placing his lips to yours as you watch him. You slowly close your eyes as you relish the feeling.
That what you two did. You both caught up with each other. Letting your lips show how much you both missed each other.
Your hand accidentally slipped under his shirt and you sighed before pulling back.
A sensual snack sounded off and he slowly opened his eyes and blinked at you.
“Im sorry.” you whisper.
“Do it again.” he says lowly and leans forward again. You let him take a hold of your mouth again, occupying your tongue with his.
He helped placed your hands back to his chest, under his shirt. You jumped slightly, from shock, when his lips leave open mouth kisses on your neck.
You small breathy noise escape from your slightly parted lips as your eyes closed at the tingling feeling that was now traveling to your collarbone.
His hands graced the bare skin that came from your slightly risen shirt. He graced a quick swipe of his thumb across your cheek as he then slowly rises your shirt.
Shirtless, you still felt warm. You sat in his lap as he cups your breasts as your back was pressed to his chest.
Your hips was grinding on the bulge that sat stiffly in between your legs.
“I want you.” he whispers. A kiss is heard as you felt the wet kiss on your neck. His hand snakes in front of you and circled his fingers on the sensitive covered nub. You wish he would take your panties off but he instead had you crying out. Crying out at what his fingers were doing. They were feeling how wet you were from just his fingers.
His fingers moved a part of your pantries to the side and rubbed his bare skin with yours. You arched your back and lean against him, your hips moving to make sure you feel every inch of his veiny flesh. Your center was making his flesh glossy as he stuck his tip in you, just a little at a time.
You wince. You squirm to get yourself comfortable as he holds himself to enter you.
You both move into his bedroom.
You both had gotten to know each other’s bodies well. You clutch to his back as his hips movements are rocking you painfully slow. You roll your eyes in ecstasy as you whine for him. He grunts in response and also keeps telling you, “I want you.”
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doetic · 3 days ago
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There's Doodles of Rams in the Margins - Enemies to lovers!Jschlatt x F!Reader x Hasan Piker (pt.2)
Masterlist // Playlist
Plot: Anxiety threatens to ruin Y/n's morning after the disaster of the night she had before. Despite this she pushes on, but her hopes of having a good day is ruined when she finds Schlatt's usual asshole self in her kitchen. Word Count: 2171
The Women's Guide to Sex, Love, and the City
Melanie92 writes in: Dear Y/n, how do you handle humiliation? Recently I was at a party and had a drink thrown on me in front of a guy I’ve been hoping to start something with, and to make matters worse I started crying right then and there! I haven’t been able to face him or my friends since.Dear Melanie92, I think we have all been there. I would  say the best solution is to reach out to your friends as soon as possible. It is scary to face anyone after a humiliating experience, but people often underestimate how much their friends care about them, and (I am aware of how cheesy I sound saying this) the power of friendship is more healing than you’d think.On the potential love interest front, any man who would not stay interested in you after something like that is a man you should cut your losses with. Would you like to be in a relationship for years where you are forced to be perfect at all times? I think…
─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──
The next morning began significantly better than the night before it ended. You woke up well rested, your soreness washed away into a dull ache that only made itself known if you stretched your body too hard. For the duration of your morning routine you didn’t find yourself thinking much about the party at all. In a way, it was as if the sun had washed away what had occurred last night. Every time your brain dredged it up you reasoned with yourself that it wasn’t as if you’d see much of  Schlatt again anyways so there wasn’t much point of dwelling on the matter. 
Regardless of your good mood, however, you delayed opening your phone, feeling a pit in your stomach every time you thought of waking up the black sleeping screen to see if anything had gotten out about the incident. Though, from the lack of notifications coming from the device, you felt a little optimistic of Ted’s pull within the group of people that were there to witness it. You distracted yourself from the device by getting dressed, not yet wanting to discard your fairly good mood by giving into the temptation to unlock your phone. Even the sight of it sent a jolt of anxiety through your body. Instead, you opted to occupy your thoughts by getting dressed. You needed to go out and grab toothpaste anyways, and you’ve spent far too much money on clothes – as an immigrant to the U.S, you found yourself falling victim to the enticingly luxurious NYC lifestyle quite often – to go out in just athleisure. 
The smell of eggs wafting from the kitchen had you instantly on guard. F/n made you eggs usually as a way to butter you up before breaking something big. When F/n  would serve you a plate, she would often wait for you to get about halfway into the dish before breaking whatever news she had stored in her mouth to you with an apologetic wince, as if each forkful you lifted to  your mouth were seconds counting down on a clock.
You hoped it was nothing too bad, today was the day you were to sift through the new roommates F/n had found to replace her. She was the reason you moved to NYC and thought it unfair that her moving in with Ted would uproot your newly settled life unless she found someone to cover her half of the rent. You knew F/n wouldn’t do you wrong, certainly you’d become fast friends with the new addition to the apartment, something you looked forward to with your current counter of friends in the area totalling to a whopping one.
You tried not to let the feeling of impending doom that prickled at your every nerve bring you down from the good mood you woke up in – a good mood that seemed increasingly fragile as the day carried on. You intended to move into the open kitchen and living room space with a sense of purpose, though you felt sure your tentative curiosity was evident in your gait. 
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Your words escaped your mouth faster than your eyes could process the sight before them. Seated at your kitchen island, with a haggard, hungover expression, was Schlatt. Beside him was Ted, who paused his conversation with his friend to look back and forth between you and F/n – her anxious form positioned at the stove with a guilty smile – with worry. 
The sight before you was like ice water being poured upon your warm, happy body. Although you were not physically shaking, the anger that vibrated within your form was akin to violent shivering. 
“Quiet down toots, m’head hurts,” There was the nickname again, emerging from his throat like a groan. 
“I…made eggs?” F/n gave you a nervous grin.
You narrowed your eyes at the group and ignored the only open seat at the island beside Schlatt, opting to walk over and lean against the side of the island countertop. 
“Ted, why do you look like a kid in trouble?” His guilty eyes darted away from your face. From his expression, it seemed as if pressing for an answer from him would be faster than waiting for F/n’s likely roundabout explanation. “What’s going on?”
Ted opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by Schlatt, whose eyes squinted in pain at the sight of the window behind you. “I’m your new roomie, surprise.” His voice was harsh towards you, but turned more polite as he addressed F/n. “Can I have some more eggs, please?”
“F/n don’t you dare give him my apology eggs,” You narrowed your eyes. She plated the eggs that were in the pan and slid them, along with a fork, across the counter your way. “Is he being for real?” 
F/n waited in tense silence for half of the egg to be eaten – as was custom, although with the small size of the egg and your morning hunger it took less time than usual – before she replied.
“I planned it before you two met, and it's too late to change it up now. Finding someone decent this late wouldn’t be easy, if possible,” She explained. Although she seemed like she didn’t care too much about the matter, it was apparent to you, having known her for so long, that she wasn’t too enthused about the situation either and was putting on a polite facade around Schlatt. 
“I’m right here,” Schlatt spoke up. “Like, I’m currently in the room as you speak about me.”
“Oh don’t worry, Schlatt. I’m unfortunately all too aware of your presence,”  You verbally jabbed at him in between forkfuls.
He let out a sardonic laugh, “Obsessive much?” 
You conjured up a daydream of diving across the table with a scream and shaking Schlatt violently. 
Ted – who had seemed like little more than F/n’s ornamentally passive malewife in every prior interaction involving Schlatt’s douchebaggery – interrupted your thoughts and for once spoke up before a glare from his girlfriend was sent his way. His face was painted with a sense of confusion and annoyance at his friend's behaviour. Was Schlatt not usually this stuck up? You felt even more annoyed at the notion that he was just this prideful around you specifically. You hadn’t done anything to him! 
“Shut up, man. Let’s get a head start on moving F/n’s boxes,” Ted’s words seemed to shock Schlatt a bit, and you had to respect Ted a bit for it – although you believed you’d always dislike and distrust him as the boyfriend of your best friend. With Ted’s words, Schlatt got up and headed to F/n’s room, leaving you and your friend alone. At least he had put his dishes in the sink before leaving.
“What’s his fucking deal?” Once the two were confidently out of earshot, you plopped down in the empty seat you had refused to sit in before with a groan.
“I don’t know,” F/n leaned against the island with her elbows. “He’s always been pretty nice to me and everyone else I’ve seen him with,” A sigh deflated her body slightly. “That’s why I thought he’d be a good roommate… well that and his income. I knew with his wealth he’d easily be able to afford rent. The only reason he doesn’t have a house is because it’s a hassle to go through the process of owning.” 
“Is he some bigshot youtuber like Ted?” You finished the last of your eggs. 
“Bigger, four million.”
You snorted, recalling his attitude and miserable appearance around you. “Those four million people must be fucking miserable.”
“I’m not too happy about this either Y/n. The way he treats you is so fucked, especially last night. Ted took care of that by the way, he’s got a lot of friends. You shouldn’t see it posted.”
“Ted’s still on thin ice,” F/n shot you an incredulous look. “Hey! I care about you, I just met the man! I can’t trust him too quickly. But anyways, thank him for me.”
F/n gave you a satisfied smile before getting back to the topic. “Don’t worry Y/n, it won’t be too long. Just until Schlatt gets his shit together and can get a place to live in again. He’s been going through some housing issues, he needs this place. He shouldn’t be too bothersome.”
You snorted. “I think we’re far past that point.”
“Ted thinks Schlatt’s just embarrassed by how drunk he was. He’s prideful and doesn’t really like being wrong, or in the wrong. Maybe he’s got too much pride to apologise and is just doubling down? That doesn’t make it okay, regardless.”
“That's such a man thing to do. I see this all the time when people write to me. Why are men such…” You searched for the word before crying out in exasperation. “...men!” 
“It all boils down to the patriarchy,” F/n shrugged. “That's why I like my boyfriends like Ted, whipped.”
“Eww! TMI!” You teased, intentionally taking her words in the wrong way to mess with her. 
“Not like that! You know what I meant!” F/n squealed and hit you with the dishtowel light-heartedly. You caught it and stood up laughing, collecting your dishes in your free hand and heading to the sink. She stopped you, taking the items from you. “No, you had a shit morning. I’ll do it. Besides, I saw you talking with some guy last night. Take the time I’m saving you to text him and tell me about it after.” 
You weren’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. “Okay, thank you F/n.” You relented. “But I’m taking you out for goodbye drinks tonight as a thank you when I do!” You smiled, heading down the hallway, not letting her protest the implications that you'd be paying.
You knew eavesdropping was bad, but with your room right beside F/n’s in the hallway, you preferred the phrase ‘overhearing while loitering’ to describe how you stopped in your tracks in front of your door at the sound of Schlatt and Ted’s voices. “Be nice man, she means a lot to F/n and F/n means a lot to me,” Ted scolded his friend. “But not too nice, like not falling in love nice. That doesn't usually work out with roommates.”
You hated how you were coming to know Schlatt so well that your brain autofilled in the quiet chuckle you were sure he let out at Ted's words. “She’s alright looking, but not hot enough to tempt me.”
You had to hold back the offended gasp that intruded uncomfortably in your throat.
“She was hot enough to attract Hasan–”
“Hasan’s a–!” You didn’t hear the rest of Schlatt’s thoughts, angrily retreating into your room. What an asshole, how much more stuck up could he be! It wasn’t as if you wanted his attention, but the frank way he stated it had you fuming at the impoliteness of it all. You had done nothing to this man, and yet he was rude to you for what? His damn pride? Well he could certainly take his damn pride and shove it–!
You flopped onto your bed and muffled your angry yell with your pillow. It took a few moments for you to calm down your rage filled body before you rolled over onto your back and pulled out your phone that had been confirmed safe, creating a new text to the contact saved under Hasan. The lingering sting of Schlatt’s words was something you wanted to get over, and a meeting with the attractive man who seemed to be into you sounded perfect right now. Your fingers quickly tapped on the phone keyboard, desperate for a distraction.
[Y/n]: Hey Hasan, It’s Y/n from last night!
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months ago
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plot twist
i’m getting a new couch today
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strang3lov3 · 1 month ago
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Bedridden
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If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 🍆💦❤️‍🔥
Joel is sick and refuses to rest, so you knock him out the best way you know how. (5.4k)
Tags - smut, lotsa sexual tension, blow jobs, pussy pronouns, teasing, fingering, unprotected piv, riding the sick old man’s cock, creampie, non-graphic descriptions of being sick. JOEL DOES THE DAD SNEEZE. coughing, fevers. That’s all. Joel is stubborn and grumpy while you take care of his old as fuck ass. Arguing with the old man, forcing the old man to bathe, forcing the old man to eat and drink, forcing a thermometer in the old man’s mouth. Joel bitching you out the whole time. Joel is kind of exactly like Dennis in IASIP when the gang gets quarantined. Fic Help - My usuals! @beefrobeefcal, your unhinged comments on the doc were the best part. and @endlessthxxghts thank you for your help <3 A/N - Heyyyyyyy. I promised this fic yesterday and then didn’t deliver. Sorry. It just needed to marinate in the doc a little longer or something. It’s been a bullshit ass few days and I’m,,,,handling it. Anyway, I’ve been sick as balls so that’s how this fic came about. Everybody wash your hands 🧼
There’s a fine point late in the year, right after summer turns to fall. You can fall asleep with the window over your bed cracked open just an inch to let the crisp, cool air blow over your face as you cocoon yourself in blankets. In the mornings you wake to that same breeze and the birds chirping, though less and less as they fly south for the upcoming winter. 
Not this morning, though. This morning, you’re awoken by a chesty, hacking cough coming from outside your window. You sigh as you get out of bed and push the curtains away from the window to get a better look at what the hell is going on out there. 
And it’s just your neighbor, Joel. You should have guessed it’d be him, you heard his earth shattering, deafening sneeze the other day when you waved to him as you walked by his house. Joel waved back at you with the same hand he sneezed into. Ew. 
Everyone’s getting sick lately, it goes around quickly in Jackson. Always does - it starts with the kids and works its way through the community, and a good four to six weeks are filled with endless sneezing and coughing and mucus.
Joel’s coughing up his lungs as he rakes up the leaves in your yard, a job he’s seemingly assigned himself, because you sure as shit didn’t ask him to do this. He has a habit of taking on your chores and home maintenance out of his own frustration. 
You pull a robe over your pajamas and slide on a pair of slippers, then leave out of the front door to greet Joel. “Good morning, Joel.” 
Joel clears his throat. “S’actually noon, lazy ass. ‘Bout time ya woke up.”
“Wanna tell me what you’re doing?”
“Exactly what it looks like.” He sniffles and wipes his nose on his sleeve. Gross. “M’workin’.” 
“Yeah, I see that. But you sound sick.” 
Joel ignores the accusation, “Your yard looks like shit, by the way,” he says. “Wouldn’t kill ya to rake once in a while. ‘Stead of makin’ me do it.” 
“You choose to do this. I don’t make you do anything,” you argue, rolling your eyes. It’s funny, though. Joel’s turning into the caricature of the old man angrily shaking his fist at kids playing on his lawn. All crotchety and pissed off about nothing. You step closer to him and wrap your hand around the handle of the rake, pulling it towards yourself. “Besides, Mother Nature put those leaves there for a reason,” you add. 
“Sure, smartass. For you to ignore and for me to clean up. Now, give it,” Joel tugs the rake back. Whatever. You let him. Joel rakes more of your leaves into the pile he’s created, then doubles over in another coughing fit. You rub your palm on his back, patting him gently. He’s sweating through his flannel. “Oh, Christ. Fuck me.” 
“Joel, you look awful.”
You help him stand up, “You’re a terrible flirt, darlin’,” Joel replies dryly. But he knows you’re not wrong. He saw in the mirror how pale he looked this morning, the dark circles around his eyes. 
“Oh, shut up.” You press the back of your hand against Joel’s forehead, all sweaty and warm. “You’re burning up, Joel. You’re sick.” 
“I am not sick,” Joel protests through another cough. “I’m fine. How ‘bout you worry ‘bout yourself ‘stead of fussin’ over me.”
“You’re hacking up a lung in my yard. I’ll worry about you all I want, thank you.”
In response, Joel grumbles something you can’t quite make out. You roll your eyes and take the rake from him, dropping it on the grass. “My rake,” Joel murmurs, annoyed and defeated. With your work clearly cut out for you, you take his hand and lead him into your house. “Aw, hell. What’re you doin’ to me.” 
“Taking care of you,” you reply.
“Didn’t sign up for this bullshit,” Joel complains. “I don’t need takin’ care of.”
Oh, he’s a peach. Most men, when sick, are total babies - pathetically crying about their headaches and stomachaches to women who deal with the same symptoms on a monthly basis. It’s charming, truly. But not Joel, though. In his stubbornness, Joel refuses to ever admit when he’s sick, like he’s got something to prove. Can never let himself be taken care of, because that’s his job - to take care of others. Always has been. 
Once inside, you have Joel take off his boots, then usher him to the bathroom with a hand on his back, his flannel damp with sweat. “Sit.” You reach for Joel’s shoulders and push him down, forcing him onto the lidded toilet. You crouch down at the bathtub and plug the drain with the stopper, then turn the water on - not too hot, not too cold. “Yeah, this is good. This’ll make you feel so much better.” 
“Oh, c’mon. Turn off the damn water. I’m not takin’ a bath.” 
“You are, too.” 
“Am not.” 
“Joel,” you bite. Joel parrots your name back in the same threatening tone.
“We’re breaking that fever one way or another, Joel. So you bathe yourself, or I’ll do it.” 
Joel cocks an eyebrow. “Oh, will ya, now?”
You go quiet, no retort to his comment. Heat rises to your cheeks and you focus on the bathtub filling with water to avoid Joel’s taunting gaze. After a long enough silence passes, Joel changes the subject. “I don’t have any clean clothes, y’know.” 
“Then I’ll grab you some from your house,” you mumble.
“Mm,” Joel grunts. “Got an answer for everything, don’tcha?”
You glare. Joel glares too. You fold your arms across your chest and raise your eyebrows at him. You are not losing this battle. 
Joel sighs in defeat. “Alright, go on an’ get, then. I’ll take the fuckin’ bath if it’ll get me fifteen minutes away from you obsessin’ over me. There. Happy?” 
“Happy.”
You leave Joel in the bathroom to bathe himself, closing the door behind you. Still wearing nothing but pajamas and a robe, you change quickly into a hoodie and jeans, then leave through your front door for the second time.
Joel’s house is right next to yours, so it’s not a long walk. Mentally, you’re kicking yourself for your stupid threat to bathe Joel. The way he responded to it, ‘Oh, will ya?’ and how bashful that made you, the embarrassment written all over your face in big, black, permanent marker. Your crush on the older man is obvious, and Joel, never the gentleman, will jump at any opportunity to make you squirm. Like when he catches your eyes lingering on him for a little too long, he’ll tease you for it. “S’rude to stare, y’know,” he’ll taunt, always with that stupid fucking grin on his face. Smile lines framing his cheeks, crows feet handsomely peeking at the corners of his eyes. You really need to stop setting yourself up for these things. 
Once in Joel’s house, you head upstairs for his bedroom and rifle through his dresser drawers for some comfy clothes. You pick out a pair of plaid boxers, some gray sweatpants, and a navy waffle-knit henley. You bunch up his clothes and inhale, Joel’s natural smell still lingering in the clothes, even washed. 
In his kitchen, you notice some vegetables sitting out on his countertops. Carrots, potatoes, onions. You grab those too, then check the fridge for leftover chicken or turkey or something. He usually has some, and usually brings it to you after he’s had his fill. “This is for you, trouble. Cause y’don’t eat enough,” he’ll gruff. “Would you like me to heat it up for ya?” And whether you say yes or no, he always does. It seems to make him happy or fulfill him somehow, so you let him take care of you like that. If only he’d let you return the favor.
Bingo. There’s chicken in old Tupperware right on the top shelf, and yesterday’s date written in Joel’s terrible handwriting from an old, dried up Sharpie. You take that too, then go back home. 
You leave Joel’s food you stole on the kitchen table and stop at your linen closet for a fresh towel. You knock on the bathroom door, “Joel?”
“Yeah, darlin’.”
“I have your clothes. And a towel.”
“Good. I need those,” Joel says. “C’mon in, then.” 
You open the door, averting your eyes from Joel’s naked body in the bathtub. “Relax. M’not gonna let you see somethin’ you ain’t ‘sposed to.” He’s got his hands covering his manhood, the rest of himself on display - toned biceps, veined forearms. His belly is pillowy and hairy and his legs look so long, all bare like this. His toes peeking out of the soapy bathwater. You set the towel and his clothes down on the toilet, stealing an even longer look at him when you think he doesn’t notice. “I see ya snoopin’, trouble. Wanna take a picture?”
You roll your eyes and ignore the offer, turning your attention to Joel but keeping your eyes focused on his face. His hair is slicked back, and his grays pop out against the rest of his dark hair, little ringlet curls at his neck. The asshole is criminally handsome. 
“Are you feeling better?”
“I feel fine. Like I’ve felt all day,” Joel lies. His body betrays him instantly when another cough wracks through him. 
“Right. Well, you smell better, at least.” 
Joel rolls his eyes, “Nice one, sweetheart. Thanks. Now scram, so I can get dressed.” 
You leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind yourself again. You can hear the sound of the bathtub draining and Joel getting out of the tub as you stop at the linen closet again, this time grabbing some queen sized sheets and pillowcases. 
In your living room, you pull some cushions off of your sofa and pull out the built-in bed, then dress it with the sheets and an old floral quilt. You cover your own pillows in the pillowcases, then fluff them nicely and set them up for Joel, who’s leaving the bathroom now, combing his hair back.
“Stole your comb,” he says, tossing it for you to catch. He stops in the living room and looks at the pull-out bed that you made up, the corners of the sheets tucked in and everything. “The hell’s all this?”
“Exactly what it looks like,” You mock his words from earlier. “Your bed.”
“You’re bein’ ridiculous. I ain’t even sick.”
You ignore Joel and point to the bed. “Get in.”
Joel rolls his eyes but gets in the bed anyway, springs squeaking under his weight. “M’not gettin’ in this bed ‘cause I’m sick or ‘cause you’re makin’ me. Just feel like sittin’.” 
“Sure, Joel,” you sigh. “How much water have you had today?”
“Plenty.”
“How much is plenty?”
“It’s enough,” he snaps impatiently. You leave him just for a second to fill a glass with some water, then bring it to him. Joel pushes the glass away, “I said I’ve had enough.” 
“I’ll decide what’s enough, now here–” you put the glass into his hand, “Drink.” 
Joel drinks the entirety of the glass, glaring at you the entire time. Good god, if looks could fucking kill. The cool water soothes his scratchy, sore throat, but Joel won’t tell you that. “You’re a tyrant, sweetheart,” he tells you, voice raspy and low. What he doesn’t tell you, however, is that if the shoe were on the other foot and you were the sick one right now, he'd be just as overbearing over your health. Probably worse. 
You pout mockingly at Joel as you take his glass. “Stay here. Don’t get up.” 
You get up from the bed to go into the kitchen and begin preparing a soup for Joel to soothe his aching throat. You start by dicing onions, then chopping some carrots. You toss them in a large pot with some butter, letting the vegetables soften. You’ve even got some leftover bread you made yesterday, so you turn on your oven to heat it up. You can hear Joel getting restless, tossing and turning in the less than comfortable bed. Probably should have turned on a movie for him, left him a book or something to occupy his restless mind. “You okay?”
“M’fine. Mind your business.” 
You open Joel’s Tupperware and chop up his chicken into little bits. When you look up, Joel’s out of bed. You scoff. He’s forcing open your window, grunting as it squeaks. “Joel, what did I tell you? Get your ass back in that bed.”
“Relax, would ya? M’tryin’ to get some air in here.” Joel successfully forces the window open, and cool air blows into your tediously warmed home. “House is a fuckin’ oven.”
“Yeah, well, that’s probably your fever talking, dumbass. Put my window down.” 
“I really outta fix this window for ya. Ain’t good to leave it like this. I’ll get my tools an’ I–”
You march across the kitchen and into the living room, knife in hand and using it to point to the bed. “Joel.”
“You scare me,” Joel mumbles, raising his arms in surrender. He closes the sticky window for you, then you march him back to the pullout. Before Joel lays down, he glances in the kitchen at what you’ve been cooking. He heard the sounds of you chopping, but with his nose all congested he can’t smell enough to hazard a guess as to what you’ve been making. Joel narrows his eyes at the stolen Tupperware on your table, the carrots and onion peels to the side, and recognizes it all as his. “Is that my…?” 
“Just lay down, Joel.” 
“Did you take that from my fridge?” 
“I did.”
You’re completely shameless about this, there’s not even a half-assed attempt at lying your way out, and Joel’s beside himself. “You stole from me, you little–” You urge Joel into bed, fluffing the pillows behind him as you ignore his tantrum. “You are unbelievable. I could throttle you, you know that?”
“Go ahead, Joel,” you challenge. A slight breeze could knock this sick old man down to his knees. You tuck Joel into the sheets, then adjust the quilt over him again. And this time before leaving him, you grab an old book of word searches in a basket under an end table. “Here.” You toss it to him along with a dull pencil. That should keep him busy.
Back in the kitchen, you’re still working on Joel’s soup. It’s bubbling away on the stove, and you’ve just finished making egg noodles to make the dish a little heartier. Something to stick to his ribs. It hits you then, that you don’t hear sniffling or coughing. Joel’s gone quiet, suspiciously so. 
And lo and be-fucking-hold, Joel’s up again. This time, with tools. Tools that you don’t have, tools that he must have snuck out and grabbed from his home at some point. “Joel!” 
“There,” Joel says, moving your window up and down seamlessly. “Window’s fixed.” 
“How many times do I have to say it?” 
“How about you try a ‘thank you’, huh?” Joel shoots back.
You shoo him back to bed. You slice a bit of warm bread, then ladle some soup into a bowl and bring it to him with a spoon. “Eat,” you tell him. 
Joel eats a spoonful, and it’s written all over his face how much he enjoys it, the warm broth relieving his sore throat. “So what’d you poison it with, huh?”
“Oh, you’re such a dick.” 
Joel smiles, only teasing. “M’sorry. S’just that you shouldn’t be doin’ all this for me, s’all.” Joel squeezes your knee comfortingly. “Thank you. I mean it, darlin’.” He’ll let you feed him, but no more than that. You’re too sweet for your own good. “S’good soup.”
“I’m glad you like it, you asshole.” You smile too, and push some of Joel’s hair out of his face. He finishes his bowl of soup, even has a second one. You take his bowl away and wash it at the sink.
“Should let me do that,” Joel says, following you into the kitchen. “Ain’t that how it works? One cooks, the other cleans.” Joel bumps you to the side and takes the soapy dish from your hands.
“Maybe another time,” you offer, attempting to take back the bowl. “Don’t want your germs on my dinnerware.” But Joel holds on tight, so you let him wash the dish. Since he wants to die on this hill. So you dry your hands, then feel his forehead once again. You frown, displeased that the bath didn’t work at curbing his fever at all. He’s still burning up. “I’ll be right back.” 
You go to your bathroom and open the cabinet vanity, where you have an old Walgreens thermometer, the paint all smudged off. You wash it with soap and water in the sink, then return to Joel. Amazingly, you find him in the bed doing his word search puzzle, and you didn’t even have to tell him to go lay down this time. 
The bed creaks under you as you sit down next to him. You put his book down, “Open,” you tell him, thermometer in hand.
“Oh, c’mon now,” Joel complains. “Get that thermometer outta my face.”  
You shake your head no, and tug on Joel's chin so that he opens his mouth. You place the thermometer under his tongue and he closes his lips around it, staring daggers at you the entire time thermometer reads his temperature. 
He’s so handsome. Big, sparkling brown eyes underneath brows knit together in irritation. Pouting lips. Age looks good on him, perfectly both softens and enhances his rougher edges.
The thermometer beeps. You read the temperature, 102.3°F. Why Joel’s even upright with a fever like this is a mystery, but that’s men for you. Fucking idiots. “That’s a hell of a fever you’re running, Joel.”
“You’re full’a shit. Gimme that.” Joel sniffles and snatches the thermometer from you to read the number for himself. He shrugs. “S’old. Probably faulty. Can’t trust it.” Joel covers his mouth with his elbow and coughs loudly. 
“You’re old and faulty too, Joel. Look at you.” You offer him a handkerchief to wipe his nose. “You’re falling apart.” 
Joel scowls at you before blowing his nose. You leave him once more, this time to bring him a cool, damp rag. You press it against his forehead, and Joel closes his eyes. “Does that feel nice?”
“No. Quit that.” 
But Joel’s body betrays him. He’s sighing in relief, and his tensed muscles loosen. His breathing, while still shallow, has slowed as much as it can, soft belly rising and falling with steady breaths.
“Are you falling asleep?” 
“No, I’m not. M’not tired,” Joel argues. He tries adjusting the now lukewarm rag, warmed by his body heat.
“You should sleep.”
“Nah.”
 You take the damp rag off of Joel’s forehead and flip it so that the cooler side soothes his hot, feverish skin. “You know, Joel, I think this is why god made women. To take care of stupid, sick men like you.”
“Hm. Could be so. But I think he sent you to me as a punishment of sorts.” 
“Is that so? A punishment?”
“S’right. An’ some day, you’ll fool some poor man into marryin’ you and he’ll have to put up with this same shit the rest of his life. I don’t envy that sorry bastard one bit.” 
“Oh, I know,” you coo, wiping away a droplet of water that rolls down his temple. “You tell me all about it, Joel. Tell me how terrible it is.”
“Oh, I intend to.” Joel continues his tirade, bitching and moaning about how you're doing too much, that none of this is necessary. ‘Quit fussin’ over me’ and so on.
You know that after this, Joel will try to leave you, go home and fiddle with things in his home that aren’t broken - or worse yet, he’ll tinker with the things in yours that he deems in need of fixing. Squeaky door, creaky floor panels. You listen to his slight wheezing, his sniffling, his voice all raspy and broken. He really does need to rest, the poor man. 
If you had cough syrup, you’d use that to put his ass to sleep. But you don’t, so you decide to utilize a different technique, one that always successfully incapacitates a man. 
You remove the damp rag from Joel’s head and set it on the coffee table behind you. Joel’s eyes are shut as he takes shallow breaths, and you trace lazy patterns on his stomach, inching your way down, down, until you’re rubbing his warm bulge, feeling him stiffen beneath your touch. “Goddamnit, what the hell are you doin’ t’me, now?” Joel groans. He takes your wrist and squeezes it gently in his grip.
“Nothing, Joel,” you answer innocently.
 “Bullshit, it’s - you’re - oh, fuck.” Joel bucks into your palm. You slide your hand beneath his sweatpants to touch his bare cock, amused at how Joel decided against wearing boxers today. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart. You gotta, you can’t–”
“Shhh,” you hush him. You drag your nails through his patch of coarse hair, playing with those long and wiry hairs. You palm his cock again, half hard and growing harder by the second. Before this goes further, you tug his sweatpants down his thighs. “Lift up for me, Joel.”
Joel lifts his hips and you tug his sweats down the rest of the way, then continue touching him. You spit into your hand and pump him from top to bottom, taking special care to gently massage his balls when you reach the base of his cock. “Ohh, darlin’. Oh lord.” 
Joel���s stiffened to full length now. You kiss the tip of his cock, all the way down his shaft before licking your way back up, one long, fat stripe. You swirl your tongue around the head and dip your head, teasing him with it as you bob your head up and down, taking more and more of him down your throat with each pass.
Joel moans, his sick voice breaking a little. He keeps a heavy hand on your bobbing hand and wonders what the hell he did to deserve this from you. He should have stopped fighting his sickness long ago if this is what was in the cards for him. 
Realization dawns on Joel. It all makes sense, why you’re sucking him off at this particular moment. You’re trying to put him to bed, you goddamn deviant. “You’re trouble,” he accuses. “I know exactly what you’re doin’.” 
“Hmm?” You turn your head to Joel, his cock still in your mouth. You bounce it against your inner cheek, and Joel groans at the lewd image of his cockhead bulging in your mouth.
“Yeah,” Joel says. “And let me - oh, fuck-” You drop your head low, taking all of him into your mouth. So deep that your nose is buried in his pubic hair. “Let me tell ya, darlin’, what you’re doin - it ain’t gonna work on me.”
You pull off of his cock with a pop. “It won’t?”
Joel shakes his head. “Mm-mm. You’re wastin’ your time.” 
“Oh. Well, I should stop, then.” 
You begin to pull off of his cock, but Joel forces you back down. “Nah, you don’t have t - you gotta give it your best shot, right?”
You smile with Joel’s cock in your mouth. What a fucking guy. You pull off of him only momentarily, garnering a protesting groan spilling from his lips. You take off your shirt and unbutton your pants. “Lemme help you with that, c’mere, darlin’,” Joel says, pulling your pants and panties down your legs. He unclasps your bra next, then sheds his own clothing. 
You take him right back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you suck his length. This time, though, you play with your pussy. As you move up and down Joel’s shaft, you slip through your folds, dipping down to your wet hole to gather your arousal on your fingertips. You circle your clit a couple of times, then push your fingers in and out of your pussy. 
“You fuckin’ yourself on your fingers, sweetheart?”
“Mm-hm,” you hum, mouth stuffed full of Joel’s cock.
Joel pulls your hand away and replaces your fingers with his own, much thicker and longer ones. “Let me,” he says. “S’my job. Shouldn’t have t’do that to yourself, ‘less you wanna. Or if I say so.” 
Joel spreads your thighs wider. He moves his pointer and middle fingers up and down, exploring your slick, velvety pussy. He sucks those two fingers and then his thumb and rubs tight circles around the sensitive nub, all swollen and wet with your arousal. You moan at the action, the vibration of your voice traveling right down his shaft and to his balls. He bucks himself into your mouth.
Joel inserts his middle and ring fingers into your pussy, pumping in and out slowly before curling them upward, stroking right where you need him to. “Got a nice fuckin’ pussy,” he purrs with his hoarse, gravelly voice. You pulse around his fingers, and Joel admires the way your tight hole hugs him as he moves in and out of you. “She’s makin’ such a mess, drippin’ all over me.” 
You twist your fist up and down Joel’s shaft as you suck him, working him closer and closer to the edge. Joel’s content with this, the prospect of coming down your throat and fucking you with his fingers. But you have a different idea, and when his balls are tightening and his shaft is twitching, his breathing quickening, you pull off of him. 
Joel groans in frustration, but his anger is quickly eased when you straddle his hips. You reach between your legs for his cock and stroke it, dragging the tip through your folds, up and down, up and down, dipping it in and out of yourself to tease him. “You’re fightin’ dirty.” 
 Joel’s exercised enough self control today and doesn’t let you tease him for long. He puts both of his large, weathered, and masculine hands on your waist and pulls you right down on his cock, the initial penetration causing a stretch so intense you see stars for a second. “Oh god, Joel,” you moan, clutching his shoulders. 
“I know, I know,” Joel whispers, rubbing your back. “You good, sweetheart? You need a minute?”
 “Just - just a second.”
 “Take your time. Know it’s a lot, you’ll get used to it.” 
Joel gives you a second, then inches you up and down on his cock to get you adjusted to the sensation of being so full of him. Soon enough, the ache dissipates and is replaced with pleasure, nothing but pure pleasure. You rest against his hot body, rocking your hips to grind against his pubic bone. 
You know that by the way he bucked his hips into your mouth, how he pulled you down on his cock, how even now he moves you, that he’ll tire himself out. Your plan was simply to make him come to knock him out, but this - this works too. Exhaust his body, get yourself off in the process. Killing two birds with one stone. 
Joel fucks you harder now, hands on your ass to move you up and down on his cock. He bends his legs at the knee for more leverage, bouncing you on his lap. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he grunts. He moves you so that your chest is right above his face, and one at a time, sucks your nipples into his mouth, teeth lightly grazing them. 
You hold onto Joel’s broad shoulders to steady yourself, looking down at him as he fucks himself into you. He’s so handsome, cheeks and chest all flushed red, a sheen of sweat glittering at his hairline, his graying curls damp. Joel’s eyebrows are knit together as he fucks you, tracing your curves with his gaze. He pulls you against his chest as he ruts against you, his scruff scratching your skin so deliciously. “Takin’ me so good. Look so pretty on my cock like this.” 
You move at his will. Joel’s underneath you, rocking himself  in and out of your dripping, tight pussy. His thrusts are getting sloppy, hips stuttering in a non-rhythm as he pushes himself inside you over and over. He must be getting close now. 
“Up, sweetheart. Lean back f’me.” 
You peel yourself off of Joel’s middle, all slick with his sweat. Joel spits into his hand and presses the calloused pads of his fingertips against your clit. You roll your hips against him, savoring that much-needed friction against your clit.
“Like that, darlin’. Jus’ like that. Fuck yourself on my cock,” Joel says, rubbing your sensitive bud with tight circles. “Gonna watch you come all over me.” 
“Yeah,” you moan, “Wanna come for you.” 
Joel loves you like this. Your face contorted in pleasure, mouth agape, body quivering and twitching on top of him. He steadily massages your wet, swollen clit and wears a crooked smile when he feels your cunt start to pulse around him. And you think you’re pulling one over on him, but look at you, all fucked out and delirious. You’ll probably crash after this, and Joel will go right back to fixing up your house. There’s a door hinge that’s been squeaking…
“Oh my - Joel, I’m - I’m gonna -” 
“Know you are, sweetheart. Let me have it,” he groans, voice all broken and hoarse. “Come all over my cock, darlin’. Let go f’me.” 
That hot, sticky pleasure in your gut begins to intensify rapidly. You go quiet just before it happens, then let out a long, whimpering moan when your orgasm takes over your body. You shudder and jerk as Joel fucks you through your release, and once you’ve ridden it out, Joel pulls you tight against his chest. 
While you come down from your high, Joel frantically fucks you, slamming his hips against yours as he chases his own climax, balls tightening and his belly filling with warmth. “Oh, goddamn. Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Joel pants as he comes, painting your insides with his hot seed, the warmth of his release and the pulsing of his cock so satisfying. 
Coming down from his orgasm, a wave of exhaustion hits Joel. He finds himself unable to move, unable to open his heavy eyelids. He might’ve been wrong, because napping away the rest of the afternoon doesn’t sound quite so bad, now.
You pull your body off of Joel’s and he lets out a sighing grunt when his softening cock slides out of your body, the mess he created with you spilling all over his lap. You grab that washrag you held against his forehead and clean him up and then yourself, then get up to dispose of it. 
Joel grabs you by the arm, his grip weak. “Don’t you go anywhere, trouble,” he grumbles. 
“But I’ve gotta take care of this, Joel,” you protest. 
“Deal with it later. Just -” Joel yawns and pulls you down and holds you tight against his chest, as tight as he can, anyway. “Jus’ stay with me a minute.” 
Joel’s eyes are still shut, and his breathing becomes slow and rhythmic. It’s laughable how quickly sleep is taking over his sick, exhausted body, having used what little life he had in himself to fuck you stupid. Like that last burst of energy from a dying star. “I thought you weren’t tired,” you tease.
Joel sniffles. “M’not.” 
“Mhm. Sure.” 
“Just checkin’ my eyelids for holes.”
You push some curls out of Joel’s face and hold your palm against his cheek, still hot with his fever. He’s so peaceful looking like this, plump lips pouting as he breathes through his mouth. You bring your face close to his and close the gap by pressing a little kiss against his lips. 
“What’re you kissin’ me for, hm?” 
“I want to,” you reply, kissing him again.
“Gonna get yourself sick,” Joel murmurs groggily, eyes still closed. “Which means in a couple days, I get to do all this right back to you. S'payback, darlin’.”
You chuckle. And in just a few short seconds, Joel’s snoring lightly, dead to the world.
If you enjoyed, please please please reblog with thoughts or comment or hop in my inbox! Your kind words go farther than you know in keeping me motivated to write 💕
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fakebwitch · 1 month ago
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rafe finds your panties in his car [smut, jerking off, perv!rafe]
part two
you had an appointment to get your nails done, rafe was at an important business meeting and couldn't take you, since a friend of his was picking him up his car was in the garage, you asked him if you could use his car, and he said yes.
as you get back you parked the car in the garage, turned off the car while picked up the things you had left scattered around the car, putting them back in the bag, and that's where you had an idea.
you thought, rafe had let you use his car by paying for your new set of nails, you had to somehow thank him. a grin grew on your face as you rose slightly from the seat, your hands went under your skirt finding the elastic band of your panties, you grabbed it pushing it down and once you got to your ankles you pulled them completely off. your grin grew even more as you put the lace panties on the gearshift.
after completing your little work of art, you grabbed your purse and keys, opened the door and got out of the car, locking it. you made your way inside the house, the sound of your heels walking on the floor caught his attention.
"hey baby" he greeted you with a smile, getting up from the couch, "rafeyy" you said immediately running into his arms, he pulled you toward him grabbing you by the hips, 4 hours without seeing him was too much for your liking. "how did it go?" he asked with a smile at your clinginess as his hand gently stroked your back, "all good" you replied pulling away from him slightly with a smile, showing him your nails.
"they're perfect baby" he said as he looked at them carefully, he knew you didn’t play about your nails, "i know, aren't they?" you said with a smile turning your hand toward you, looking back at the design for the twentieth time.
you slipped your hand into your jacket pocket pulling out his car keys, "here they are" you said shaking them in front of his face, he grabbed them as you said "thank you so much baby, i love you" you said giving him a kiss, he smiled into the kiss as he whispered "i love you too".
as he deepened the kiss in your head you couldn't help but think of the little surprise you had left for him in the car, just waiting for him to find out. you knew very well that he loved your lingerie, one way or another he was always trying to steal some panties from you so he could keep them when, as he said, “he needed them," and you also knew what for.
the next morning rafe woke up early, he had to attend another business meeting. it was a stressful week, he was full of commitments regarding work finding himself having little time to spend with you. he grabbed the keys of his car as he yawned while heading to the garage, the phone rang in his pocket causing him to sigh as he rolled his eyes, he took it in his hands reading the name of the contact who was calling him, he sighed again deciding to answer it, it was one of the men he was in business with.
"hey, what's up?" said rafe trying to sound as unbothered as possible, the last thing he wanted to do right now was to have a call regarding the various problems that kept coming up. as the man took up the conversation, explaining that business would slow down for reasons he would list for him later, rafe opened the garage door, letting out occasionals little "mhm."
he pulled out his car keys, pressed the button and without looking inside the car opened the door and sat down. "yes, i was aware of that, i just talked to hollis about it yesterday and we both agreed that..." he froze when out of the corner of his eye he saw something white that caught his attention, he shifted his eyes to the mysterious object.
he took a deep breath realizing it was your underwear.
“rafe? are you still there?" the man's voice rang on the other side of the phone, rafe took a few more seconds to look at the piece of underwear and then answered, "y-yeah i'm here sorry, actually i'm kinda busy right now, i'm gonna call you when i'm free" he quickly came up with, wanting to end the call as soon as possible.
"oka-"
before the man could’ve finished rafe immediately hang up. his hands reached out to grab the garment, his fingers rubbed the lace. he looked at the inner part, that was in contact with your pussy, noticing a small wet spot, he didn't think about it for a second and brought the panty closer to his face, his nose made contact with the fabric, inhaling strongly as your smell flooded his nostrils. you just knew how to drive him crazy.
he couldn't help but think about being between your legs as he continued to breathe in your scent, making you feel good as your hands pushed him closer to your pussy, his cock twitching at the thought of having his lips on your wet folds.
as he kept the panties close to his face, with his free hand he quickly untied his belt, unbuttoned his pants pushing them down just enough along with his underwear to get his now semi-hard cock out. his head thought of your sweet taste, your little whimpers when he overstimulated you too much as your smell intoxicated his brain.
with his right hand he began to lightly rub his length, little sounds escaped his lips, muffled by the fabric of your panties. he went further as with his thumb he stroked the tip, pink and swollen, screaming to be inside you, his hand tightened even more around his shaft quickly rubbing the part just below the tip, it drove him crazy.
he kept rubbing as he imagined his hand was yours, little drops of pre cum were coming out of his tip, mixing with his rapidly working hands, creating obscene wet sounds.
his wrist beginning to ache, from how fast he was moving, as he lingered for a few seconds with his thumb, rubbing the tip. he was a mess of moans, his legs twitching as his breathing grew deeper and deeper, his body temperature now crazy.
he moved your panties away from his face and wrapped them around his cock as he resumed rubbing his hard cock with his hand, continuous whimpers escaped his lips as the lace rubbed against the delicate veins of his cock.
"fuuuuck" he breathed, he didn't think he could hold back much longer. he pushed his hips upward as his hand worked up and down his length, his head turned back as continuous moans mixed with cursing escaped his lips.
"h-holy shiit..." he murmured through clenched teeth, the rough fabric of the lace touching the soft tip of his cock made him shudder, his cock throbbing in his hands, eager to cum as soon as possible.
he was in pure ectasy, totally overwhelmed by the pleasure he was experiencing, the only image in his head at that moment was you, and you were helping him finish himself off. "oh y/n please..." he said almost crying, his voice cracked with pleasure as his hand moved even faster down the length, he hadn't even realized he had begged you when you weren't even there.
as his hand tightened around the tip, images of you filled his head, thinking about the way your eyes looked at him every time he thrust into you mercilessly, the way your tits bounced as his body slammed into yours, as his hand grabbed your neck making your eyes roll as he pushed you to the edge, that image was enough to make his cock cum.
"oh fuck me...." he managed to say as his hand moved slower, riding his high, moans and whining came from his lips as he pressed the tip making sure not a drop of his liquid was wasted.
half of it was on his hands, but most of it had ended up on your panties. he let go his grip on his cock, feeling overstimulated as he tried to catch his breath. realization hit him soon after, realizing the 'obscenity of the act he had just performed.
did he regret it? no. had it been one of the best handjobs? yes.
3K notes · View notes
the-froschamethyst4 · 5 months ago
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Young Gf and Older bf
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Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons
SFW & NSFW
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SFW
Older bf! Simon who didn’t know how he felt about having a younger girlfriend
Older bf! Simon who was getting called “old man” by his girlfriend
Older bf! Simon who learned the hard way that some girls have expensive taste
Older bf! Simon who doesn’t talk much about his girlfriend to his mates, he feels like they’ll get on his ass about dating a young girl
Older bf! Simon who did most of the chores around the house
Older bf! Simon who stopped caring what he wore in front of people because his girlfriend is his little hype-man
“Does this work?” Simon asks coming into his shared bedroom with his girlfriend, she rolls on her side to look at him.
“They don’t match your shoes, Si.”
“What?” He looks down. “I thought they did.”
“Here, go try this on and come back at out.”
Older bf! Simon who told his girlfriend about his time in the military
Older bf! Simon who forget how young his girlfriend is, so when he makes jokes or says a movie reference she doesn’t know what he is talking about
Older bf! Simon who was honestly scared to meet his girlfriend’s family. She told them about Simon being older but not how old he was
“And how old are you, Simon?” Her dad asked leaning forward.
“I’m…40”
“40!!”
“Y/N?!”
“What?! He treats me good, he respects me, guys my age want that trad wife, Simon doesn’t, I can do or say what I want around him and feel good about myself.”
Older bf! Simon who knows everything about you. How you like your coffee, what time you’re suppose to be up for work, and he even knows when you’re about to start your period, you know when he shows up at home with bags full of pads and tampons and her favorite foods and drinks
Older bf! Simon who starts watching shows with you but complains about them but deep down he actually likes to watch them with his girlfriend
NSFW
Older bf! Simon who woke up to you in t-shirts and no shorts or pants, he likes seeing you in a t shirt and panties
Older bf! Simon who has woken up to morning wood before and needed help to get rid of it
“Love,” he kisses the shell of her ear. “Love…wake up,” he coos.
“Hmm~ Simon, not now please.”
“I know, love, you don’t have to do anything,” Simon lines himself up at her entrance and pushes himself into her
Older bf! Simon who like after argument sex
“Fuck you!”
“Oh yeah? Fuck me?” Simon carries a smirk on his face.
“Back up, Simon,” Y/n says putting her hand up on his chest to keep distance.
“Fuck me right? Fuck me?”
“Wait, wait,” your legs didn’t work for a few weeks
Older bf! Simon who tries different things with you, like BDSM you both hated it because it’ll be painful for you and Simon didn’t like you hurt
DDLG, he knows the age gap between you two but he hates the word ‘daddy’ makes him cringe
Mask kink, you both loved it, giving the illusion you were being fucked by someone else and he liked feelings your hands in his face
Voice kink, you liked it because of his deep voice already, he was on the fence, not saying your voice is annoying or anything he just didn’t get it
Knife play, you got scared when he accidentally dropped the knife and it was very close to your hand, it was the same thing with gun play you were afraid something wrong might happen
He tried to be a sub but you could barely take it seriously
Older bf! Simon who has fucked you when you were doing your work, you worked in a private office and all he had to do was shut and lock the door and bend you over your own desk
Older bf! Simon who is handsy when he’s horny
“Simon what do you want?”
“I want nothing,” he says as one of his hands were on your waste and the other snacks up to your breasts giving you a gentle squeeze and you gave him a soft moan.
“Just do it already, Simon,” she moans
Older bf! Simon who has kept a pair of your panties in his pockets and has forgotten about them before, he remembers when he accidentally sticks his hand into his pocket and feels the lace
Older bf! Simon who bought a motorcycle and takes you with him as his backpack, he found a abandoned place were no one comes to and you two had a good fuck on his bike
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javierpena-inatacvest · 5 months ago
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Fever
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Summary: You're ovulating- It's that time of month where you find yourself turning into an unspeakably horny monster with just one problem that Javi knows exactly how to help you fix.
Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)
Word Count: 4.7K
Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (do better, but also, who am I to say?) oral (m and f receiving), vaginal fingering, paise kink, an unspeakably explicit breeding kink (I ain't sorry about it), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Javi "Daddy" and meaning it (help), the sweetest softest sex, yet somehow the filthiest, nastiest sex at the same time??? god these two love each other so much it makes me SICK
A/N: ... If you know me, no you don't. I'm so sorry y'all, I am ovulating and absolutely FERAL, I am truly thinking that someone may need to come put me down at this point because.... yeah... raise your hand if you're surprised Madeline has yet another story with Javier Peña and a big, fat, nasty breeding kink?! Oh look!! It's no one!!! ANYWHO, don't mind me while I foam at the mouth for the next 24-48 hours, BYEEEEEEEEEE
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the Never Too Late Series!
If there was one thing that you knew about Javi, it was that he was one of the most handsome, attractive men you had ever met. 
His dark, curly hair. 
His mustache. 
His sweet brown puppy dog eyes. 
His absolutely incomprehensible shoulder to waist ratio. 
Your husband had it all. That, you knew for a fact. 
Truth be told, there wasn’t really much that you ever thought Javi could do to be hotter than he already was. 
That was until a few months ago, when you had recently stopped taking your birth control and you could quite literally feel yourself morph into the insatiably feral, horny mess that you became when you were ovulating. 
And when that was the case, not only was he the hottest man you had ever laid eyes on in your entire life, you were quite literally ready to rip his clothes right off of him at every single opportunity possible. 
You could practically feel the change in your body when you woke up this morning- the soft sunlight of Saturday morning spilling through your curtains as you rolled over to see Javi, mouth slightly agape as he snored, face buried in his pillow and messy brown curls flopping over his head. 
God, does he always look this hot when he sleeps? You thought to yourself, slowly stirring awake, stretching your arms over your head before creeping out of bed to make yourself some coffee to bring back upstairs with you while you waited for Javi to wake up. 
As the bittersweet aroma and quiet, rhythmic drip of the coffee hitting the bottom of the pot began to gently rouse you from your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but shake the warm, stirring sensation in your stomach from the image of Javi sleeping next to you in bed. 
Elbows propped up against the counter, chin resting in your palms, you closed your eyes, picturing him- His sweet soft smile as you kissed his plush lips, the way his big hands roamed across your hips and back as he pulled you closer to his chest, the bulge of his cock pressed against your thigh before he- 
“What are you doing up, cariño?” Javi’s soft and sleepy voice cooed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pressing his chest to your back as he planted a gentle kiss on your shoulder, his presence enough to snap you out of your daydream, but not enough to shake the dull ache that had been growing between your legs from the moment you woke up. 
“I was just gonna make some coffee and bring it back up to bed. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up, baby.” You sighed, a smirk growing between your cheeks as you turned around to face him, Javi now caging you between his body and the counter as his hands splayed planted on either side of you. He looked down at you with his half-awake gaze and sleepy smile, still in nothing but his boxers, his tanned skin and barely there freckles glowing in the morning sunlight creeping through your kitchen window. 
“Don’t apologize, mi amor. Just wanted to know where my wife was. Glad I found her.” He chuckled, leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, only pulling away to quietly whisper, “Good morning, hermosa.” 
And while it was nothing but a simple good morning kiss, the way Javi’s lips met yours sent a spark off inside you, quickly leaning back to pull him closer to you as you draped his arms around his neck, a soft moan escaping from your parted mouth, feeling a grin growing across Javi’s face in response. 
“Mhmmm, well, a very good morning to you then. My bedhead and morning breath really doin’ it for you, huh?” Javi smirked, lowering his hands to rest on your hips, gently toying with the waistband of your sleep shorts. 
“Sorry, I uh- you just, God, you look really good this morning. Can we, um, ya know, maybe go back upstairs?” You stammered, so enamored with Javi’s presence that you could barely get a coherent thought out as you stared up at your husband, already feeling a damp patch beginning to grow in your underwear, stomach churning with arousal. 
“Yeah? Mi esposa muy dulce (my sweet wife), you want me to-” 
Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg. Ring, ring, ringggggg
“Who the fuck is calling me this early…” 
Javi’s face scrunched in frustration at the sound of his cell phone ringing on the kitchen counter, reaching over you to see the expression in his face shift to concern as he read the caller ID, quickly opening up his phone to answer. 
“Hey, Pops. What’s goin’ on? Everything okay? Again? Fuck… Yeah, just um- shit, yeah, I’ll be over in 30. Okay. Yup. Yeah, bye Pops.” Javi let out a deep sigh, running his hands over his face and through the sleep curled ends of his dark hair, his grumpy pout telling you that your morning was not going to go the way you thought it was 30 seconds ago. “The gate that Pops had installed last week fell down overnight and now all the cows are loose in the pasture… I gotta go over there and help him put it back up before it gets even worse. I’m so sorry, Hermosa.” 
“It’s okay.” You shrugged, trying your best to mask your horny disappointment. 
“It hopefully shouldn’t take that long. I should be back before lunchtime, okay? And when I get back, if you still want,” he paused, letting his palm slide along your jaw, cradling your cheek before pressing another soft kiss onto your lips, “We can pick up where we left off.” 
“Promise?” You smirked, raising an eyebrow at him. 
“Yo prometo (I promise).” 
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Wanting to give Javi any chance of leaving the house without trapping him in your bedroom, you tried your best to keep yourself busy while he quickly got ready and grabbed his things to head to the Peña Ranch, giving him a quick kiss goodbye before watching him back out of your driveway in his truck, the image of him with one hand behind the passenger seat at the other with his palm to the steering wheel making you just about drop to your knees for reasons you thought you couldn’t explain. 
You hoped that with Javi gone, you could at least be a little productive in getting some things done around the house before he returned, but it seemed like with everything that you did and anywhere you went in your house, you couldn’t help but find more reasons to add to the insatiable desire building in your core. 
While you were trying to make breakfast, you couldn’t help but stare at Javi’s favorite coffee mug, the Empire Strikes Back cup he had claimed as his at your apartment when you had first started dating.  You couldn’t keep yourself from imagining the width of his huge hands wrapping around it, dwarfing the mug in his grasp, thinking about how good those same hands would feel all over you. 
After that, came trying to do the laundry, where you caught yourself sniffing Javi’s shirts, the overpowering and familiar scent of his cologne and sweat seeping through the fabric, driving you absolutely crazy, wishing you could find a way to drown in his scent. 
Finally, in your very valiant effort to try and make your bed, you found yourself laying face down in Javi’s pillow, somehow leaving the sheets and comforters tangled and tossed about worse than you had found them. 
“What the fuck is wrong with me today…”  You whispered to yourself, now sitting on the couch, mindlessly flipping through the channels on your TV, somehow still even hornier than you were when you woke up this morning. You let your gaze wander away from the TV, examining the walls of your family room until you landed on your wedding photos hung across your wall, smiling to yourself as you looked at the portraits, reliving the moments of the happiest day of your life. 
It wasn’t until you glanced at one of the photos of you and Javi surrounded by your family in a candid moment where Javi had hoisted your niece on his hip to dance with her during your reception, the image making your stomach flip with an overwhelming need. After doing the quick math in your head, it hit you like a thousand pound ton of bricks why you had been so worked up all goddamn day. 
You were ovulating, and you needed Javi to put a baby into you right now.  
As if the universe had magically heard your prayers, you turned your head to hear your garage door opening and the familiar stomp of Javi’s boot covered footsteps trudging down the hallway. Like a moth to a flame, your heart began to race as you watched Javi’s broad body approach you, your jaw practically dropping at his appearance. 
Javi was now glistening with a light sheen of sweat, his curls sticking to his damp forehead, and the sleeves of his button down shirt now rolled up past his elbows, the buttons once done up to near his neck before he left now trailing open to the middle of his chest, exposing the warm glow of his tanned skin underneath. 
“Hey hermosa, I’m home! Ended up being a way easier fix than Pops thought and- Oh!” 
Before Javi could even get out the rest of his sentence, you were trapping his words in your own mouth, feverishly bringing your lips to his as you grabbed fistfulls of his shirt, kissing him like every bone in your body depended on it. 
Javi stood there for a moment, almost dumbfounded and frozen, wondering what had warranted such a greeting before leaning in to reciprocate, snaking his hands to your sides and grabbing your waist, pulling away only to try and understand the reason for his passionate welcome. 
“H-hi baby. Everything okay?” 
“Mhmmmmmm.” 
“Not that I’m mad about it, but I feel like you’re greeting me like I’m coming home from war.” Javi laughed to himself quietly, looking down at you with a smirking suspicion. 
“I missed you. I need you so bad, Javi.” You moaned, pressing up to lock your lips to his again, this time Javi matching your intensity as your mouths crashed into each other. 
“Is this all from this morning?” Javi managed to ask between parted kisses, his grip tightening around you as he pulled you closer to his chest. 
“This morning,” you paused, beginning to kiss him between each thought, “right now,” your hands began to roam up his chest, sneaking under the fabric of his shirt, “all the time,” fingers now working at frantically undoing the buttons, “fuck, everything about you. You’re so fucking sexy, Javi. Do you know that? God, I’m so lucky.” At this point, it felt like the words were flowing out of you in a horny and unstoppable stream of consciousness, babbling between desperate kisses pressed against Javi’s lips. “I need you so bad. I want you fuck me, Javi. Fuck, I- I want you to put a baby in me.” 
Your last sentence had Javi frozen in place once again, pulling away just to make sure he had heard you correctly, even though the boyish grin growing ear to ear across his face seemed to be enough confirmation. The two of you had been trying ever since you had gotten back from your honeymoon, but now that you were to the point that your birth control was out of your system and your cycle was back to normal, it felt just a little more real to the both of you. 
“You want me to put a baby in you, mi amor? That what you want?” Javi groaned, his voice rumbling low in his chest as a hungry glaze painted itself across his chocolate brown eyes, making your pussy throb at hearing him say it back to you. 
“Mhmmmmm.” You nodded frantically, too caught up in your own desire to find any words to string together into a coherent sentence. “I think I’m ovulating, so it could really happen this time. Please, baby, I-” 
This time, it was Javi’s turn to cut you off, his arms scooping below your legs to hoist you up around him, legs locking around his hips as he carried you down the hallway towards your bedroom, your bodies banging and bumping against the walls and door frames in a frantic race to your bed without any regard for spatial awareness.  
As soon as you were close enough, Javi was tossing you on the bed, frantically stripping himself of his shirt and working his way down to his jeans before he realized you were sitting up, already toying with his button and zipper. You pushed his pants down his legs, followed by his boxers, revealing his cock, fully erect and weeping with precum at the tip. It wasn’t long until you were scrambling off the bed and dropping to your knees in front of him, licking the salty tang of spend off his tip before he could protest that he needed to take care of you first. 
“Hermosa, I- Oh fuckkkk-” He groaned, feeling your jaw go slack as you took his length into your mouth, hollowing out your cheeks until you could feel him in the back of your throat, pulling back to look up at him with batted lashes as you kissed him up and down his shaft. 
“I wanna suck your dick, Javi. Wanna show you how much I love it. Wanna feel you down my throat before you fuck me.” You moaned, rubbing your legs together to try and ease the ache between your legs, your pussy so wet and puffy that slick and arousal were dripping from your cunt and coating the inside of your thighs. 
“Fuck me…” Javi muttered under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut to regain his composure before looking back down at you, slowly sucking at his tip, your tongue swirling around the sensitive ridges of his cock. “Okay, baby. Show me how bad you need me before I put my dick in your tight little pussy, huh?” 
Inch by inch, you took him back down your throat until you were brushing up against the curls at his base, the sweet and musky scent of him filling your nostrils as you inhaled. “Oh fuck, Osita. Holy shit.” His voice rasped, hitching in the back of his throat watching your mouth fill with his cock. His fingers ran through your hair, tugging a little tighter as your pace began to quicken, his grunts and moans becoming louder with each push and pull. “Fuck, such a good girl taking me so well. So fucking pretty when you suck my cock baby, holy fuck.” 
For as much as Javi wanted you to keep going until he was spilling down your throat, he needed to save every last drop for when he came inside you, fucking you full of him until he knew it took. Feeling his balls begin to draw up into his stomach, he forced himself to pull you off him, panting to catch his breath before he spoke. “I don’t wanna cum yet, baby, and if you keep going like that I’m gonna bust.  Fuck, you’re so good to me. Lay down on the bed, Hermosa. Let me take care of you. Need to taste you.” 
Instantly, Javi was pulling you up and sitting you on the bed, letting your back hit the mattress as he settled between your legs, tugging your bottoms off until they were in a crumpled pile on the floor. his hands slide down the inside of your thighs, pushing them apart to reveal the wet, slick, and puffy mess your pussy had already become without even being touched. Javi chuckled to himself, awestruck by the sight in front of him, kissing and nipping at the meat of your legs, teasing you with how dangerously close he was to your cunt and finally giving you what you needed. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet, cariño.” Letting his hands shift down, his fingers ghosted across your core as his thumbs slid through the lips of your pussy, spreading it open even further, making you whimper in anticipation. “Goddamn, she’s so pretty. Prettiest fucking pussy I’ve ever seen. Who’s pussy is this, baby girl?” He smirked, barely kissing your clit, driving you absolutely wild as you squirmed beneath his touch, desperate for him to do something, anything, to ease your ache.  
“Y-yours, Javi. It’s all yours, baby. Only yours.” You whined, gazing down at him with a rampant need in your eyes, fisting at your bedsheets to find somewhere to try and release your tension. 
“Fucking right it is.” 
His head then dipped between your legs, arms draped across your stomach holding you in place as he began to eat you out like a man being served his last meal on this earth. Broad, flat strokes of his tongue slid between your folds, pressing against your clit with the perfect amount of pressure he knew would have you crumbling beneath him. 
You couldn’t help but rithe under his touch, instinctively bucking your hips at his face, overwhelmed by the way Javi was relentlessly drinking you up, his fingers gripping tighter to the meat of your thighs to hold you in place as you could feel the tingle beginning to build at the base of your spine, your back arching in desperate anticipation. 
Almost as if he could read your mind, Javi easily slipped two fingers inside you, curving in just the right way to bump against your g-spot, fucking in and out of you to fill the emptiness in your pussy he knew you craved. 
“J-Javi, oh fuck- don’t stop baby, please, don’t stop.” You whimpered, your eyes nearly rolling in the back of your head as you felt your orgasm begin to build, cunt clenching tighter around Javi’s fingers and beginning to flutter while he sucked on your clit. You could feel his smug smirk pressed against your heat as your hand shot down between your legs, grabbing and tugging on fistfulls of his thick locks, your tell tale sign that it was only a few more moments before you were about to come undone. 
“That’s it, hermosa. Say my name, baby girl. Let me hear you.” 
And there you were, chanting his name like a prayer, over and over again until you reached your breaking point. 
“Javi, Javi, Javi, J-Javi, J-aaaahhhhhh, oh fuck-” 
In an instant, you could feel a wave of pleasure crashing through you in toe curling delight, your orgasming ripping through every inch of your body with undeniable intensity, your slick soaking Javi as he drank up every last drop of you, savoring the sweet taste of you on his tongue. 
You sat there for a moment, back against the mattress as your chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, blissed out of your mind as you sat propped up on your elbows, staring at Javi, proudly wiping the slick covering his face with the back of his hand. 
“Javi, holy fuck, baby.” You gasped, swallowing hard as you watched Javi begin to hover over you, making his way up your body one slow, wet kiss at a time, nipping at the soft skin of your stomach before cupping your breasts, taking one in his mouth, sucking and flicking at your pebbled nipples with his tongue while he rolled the other between his fingers. The whimpers escaping from your lips were damn near pathetic, but considering how worked up you were, you could have probably cum again just from this alone. 
“You still want me to fuck a baby into you, Hermosa?” Javi asked all too knowingly, tongue darting between the smirk of his parted lips, trailing languid kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.  
“Y-yes. Fuck, yes.” You moaned, breath hitching at the back of your throat as Javi sucked at your pulse point. 
“Tell me how badly you want it, pretty girl.” Javi whispered, his voice rumbling low in his throat as he nipped at your ear. “Tell me how much you want me to give you a baby.” 
“F-fuck, so badly Javi. Please, baby. I want you to so bad. I want you to more than anything. I wanna make you a daddy, Javi.” 
If Javi had any ounce of self composure left, that alone was enough to make him crumble, letting out an audible groan, his dick even harder than he already thought it could be. 
“Fuck me…” Javi groaned, sucking you in for another electric kiss. “Turn around, baby.” 
Scooching yourself further up the mattress, you laid with your stomach to the bed as Javi climbed behind you, swiping his cock through your folds before sinking into your heat, bottoming out against your cervix and whimpering at the sweet sting of his stretch, sucking him in with your warm, velvety walls. 
Slowly, Javi began to thrust in and out of you, taking his time with each stroke as he laid his chest against your back, interlocking his fingers with yours outstretched above your head on the bedspread, head buried in the crook of your neck. 
Each push and pull of his hips elicited more lewd sounds than the last- you were practically dripping at this point from how worked up you were, and could hear the wetness pooling in your pussy, filling the room with obscenely filthy sounds. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet. You hear that, Momma? You hear how wet you are for me? Hear how badly your tight little pussy wants me to fill her up? Pump her full of me?” Javi moaned, his thrusts becoming faster and deeper, his grip around your hands even tighter than before, biting down on your shoulder trying his best to keep from falling apart at just how good you felt around him, coating every inch of his length in your arousal.  
“I want you to cum so deep inside me, Javi. P-please, baby.” You begged, craning your neck behind you just enough to see the wrecked expression painted across Javi’s face that mirrored yours. 
Suddenly, you could feel Javi grabbing your hips, flipping you over as your back bounced against the mattress, now staring up at him. He ran his hands up the back of your thighs until your knees were against your stomach, spread open as wide as you could be for him. 
As he sunk back in your heat, he caged himself over you, devouring you in a desperate and hungry kiss of mangled tongue and teeth, catching your moans in his mouth as he bottomed out inside you. 
“Need to see that beautiful face when you cum for me, cariño. Wanna see you when you soak my cock, w-watch, oh fuck- you when I fuck you so full of me, I’ll knock you up tonight.” Javi moaned between kisses. 
The new angle had Javi pounding into you in the way that had your jaw going slack and your cunt beginning to clench tighter and tighter around his length, once again feeling the knot in your stomach beginning to tighten with arousal. 
“P-please, Javi. F-fuck- You feel so good, don’t stop, baby.” You whimpered, your eyes locking with his, your heart racing as you stared into the deep chocolate brown of his gaze.
“I won’t stop, hermosa. Won’t stop until I fill this perfect pussy up. Fuck you so full of me, I’ll be dripping out of you for days. Won’t stop until I fuck a baby into you, get you pregnant, watch you give us a family- Jesus, fuck- Fuck, I love you so much.” 
Snaking his hand between your bodies, he reached between your legs to rub at your clit, rhythmically circling your sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you, knowing at this rate, you weren’t going to last much longer, and that meant neither was he. 
“I love you too, Javi. More than anything.”  
 Each thrust of his hips sending you closer to the brink of collapse than the last, the noises of your wanton moans, skin slapping against each other and the wetness of Javi’s cock sloppily pumping in and out of your cunt had the room sounding borderline pornographic. You could feel your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your head as the coil in your belly was about to reach a breaking point until the firm grasp of Javi’s palm around your jaw forced your gaze up at him once again. 
“Eyes on me, baby. Eyes on me when you cum. Need to see you when I fuck a baby into you, Momma.” 
That was all you needed to finally send you over the edge, your body exploding with pleasure as your orgasm overtook you, your thighs shaking and voice trembling with wrecked pleas of Javi’s over and over.
“J-Javi, Javi, Javiiiii, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, oh God, fuck, baby, fuck!” 
As you gushed around his cock, your pussy gripped him like a vice as you came. Javi’s hips began to stutter, his pace now becoming frantic and sloppy knowing how close he was to following suit, losing all inhibitions as you sobbed out in ecstasy. 
“That’s it, baby. Mierda- Fuck, I’m close. Gonna fill this pussy up- oh shit- so full it’ll f-fucking take. I know it will. I p-promise, I- oh fuck!” 
With one final stammer of his hips, Javi’s orgasm consumed him, his spend coating every inch of your walls as he spilled into you, milking himself of every last drop as he came. His body slumped into yours, chests rising and falling in sync as both of you laid in post-orgasmic bliss, completely lost in the sensation of each other. 
After a moment, Javi finally pulled out his softening cock, making you whine at the loss. Sitting back on his haunches, he couldn't help but admire the absolute mess between your legs- your pussy so puffy and swollen, covered in your shiny slick, and dripping with his cum. A satisfied smirk spread across his face as he watched his spend begin to leak out of you, knowing that you were overflowing with him. 
His fingers traced down your thighs, dragging his cum back to your cunt, making sure a single drop didn't go to waste. You couldn't help but sob as his curved fingers push back inside your pussy, making sure you stay stuffed full of him so he knew it took, because God, did want it more than anything to take. 
Gently pulling back out, Javi couldn’t help but lean down to kiss you again, grabbing your face as he peppers you with kisses, making you squeal in a ticklish delight. 
“I love you so much, mi amor.” Javi cooed, his forehead resting against yours as he softly stroked your face, your heart swelling with joy and excitement at the man you hoped from 9 months from now, would be the father to your child. 
“I love you too, Jav. You’re gonna be such a good Daddy.” You smirked, teasing him just enough to make him let out a sigh, biting down on his lip. 
“You’re gonna fucking kill me with that one. You know that?” 
“Well it’s true!” You laughed, giving him a playful nudge, running your hand through the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck. “You think this one will be the one?” 
“I hope so. If not, guess we’re just gonna have to keep trying every day till it is, huh?” 
“If you keep fucking me like that, we’re gonna have 12 kids before you know it.” 
“I mean… wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” Javi grinned, rasing his eyebrows at you with a boyish glow. 
“Javi! We are not having 12 kids!” You protested, rolling your eyes at your husband. 
“Osita, if you keep coming on to me like you did today, we may not have a fucking choice.”  
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gladiatorcunt · 7 months ago
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oooh art would be lowkey freaky. i feel like he’s also a super munch. he’ll let you sit on his face for hours!!
cw: 18+ mdni, cunnilingus, ambiguous era, afab reader, slight brat!reader, teasing, like two spanks (+ one instance of ass play + very slight anal fingering)
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Art devours you like no one else ever could, burying his tongue into your pussy for hours on end. If he could, he’d do it 24/7. He does it enough as it is away. As a wake up call, a way to say goodnight, in the shower, on your period, from behind while you’re cooking, in a pool chair, you get the gist. If you asked what he favorite sexual act to do with you was, there’s not a single doubt in your mind that it would be slurping up your pussy.
You’ve never sat on his face before though, too scared to break his neck after reading a story on your phone about that happening to someone else. It’d be a real mood killer to come down from you high to see your boyfriend dead to the world, literally. You didn’t talk about it again after the initial awkward discussion that ended with you dismissing it. But he just looks so hot in the early morning sun, a rare sleepy day in where you actually get to marvel at what Art looks like when he’s relaxed.
You bite your lip and shake him gently, trying not to shy away and curl up into a ball when he eventually groans and rubs his eyes open.
“Morning, baby.” He grunts in his husky morning voice.
He immediately puckers his lips for a kiss that you provide with less casual confidence than usual. His brow furrows, and he caresses the inside of your wrist with his thumb.
“What’s up? Are you hungry?” He asks you, thinking that you’re needing him to run and get you coffee or something.
You say no and play with your hands, the ache you’ve been feeling between your thighs only grows the more you look into his eyes.
“I just…. I need you.” You whisper.
Art squints his eyes, not sure what you mean. Then he recalls how he usually wakes you up in the morning, “Oh. You need me, huh?”
You nod and spread your legs, giving a view of your bare pussy. You took your underwear off earlier when the feeling got to be too much.
“Can you say it for me, angel? Tell me what you need and i’ll give it you.” He grins, teasing you. “If you woke me up, you must need whatever it is really bad.”
You roll your eyes and straddle him, sighing in bliss when he latches onto your hips. You’d put up more of a fight if you weren’t so horny, but you’ll let Art have his fun this time.
“I need you to eat me out.” You hold back the ‘obviously’ that you want to tack onto the end of your sentence.
Art’s grin widens and he makes you rock back and forth on his clothed bulge. He waist until you’re juices are wetting the fabric of his underwear before he pats your thigh, telling you to get off. You don’t budge and allow him to get into the typical position. Instead you lift your hips and shuffle up the bed until you’re hovering over his face.
“I want you to eat me out like this.”
Art’s grin falters as his eyes widen in shock for a second, you must really be pent up if you’re being this bold. He’s not complaining, he’d been waiting patiently for you to get comfortable enough to use him like a chair. You’re enough of a brat to change your mind if he acts too smug about getting what he wants even if you want it too though, so he tones it down.
“Get to it then, angel.” He smirks, his words trailing off into a satisfied sigh. “Give me a taste of this pretty pussy, don’t hold back.”
He flattens his tongue expectantly and leans his head back against the pillows.
Before you can even hesitate, Art snakes his arms under your legs and yanks your body down, making you drop your weight on him. You yelp but he doesn’t let you squirm away from his mouth. The sensation of his tongue lying still beneath you feels strange for a second, but a slap to your ass snaps you out of it enough to start moving your hips.
You shout and grab onto the headboard, getting yourself off on your boyfriend’s face. You play with one of your tits as you start to bounce on him, craving more of his tongue.
You reach down and tug on his hair, suddenly feeling too shy to make eye contact. He hasn’t looked away from you this entire time, and your cheeks warm in embarrassment at the thought of how messy you already look.
He winks at you, not moving at all and letting you take your fill. Well that’s not what you want anymore, so you tug his hair harder and beg.
“Please, baby, just tongue fuck me already. Don’t you want to? ‘m getting tired…” You whine, pouting down at him.
You stop your hips when you don’t get an answer. Art’s eyes crinkle in delight at your predicament, but he gives in to you. He always does, you just don’t like when he puts you on the spot and makes you wait like this. Secretly you kinda enjoy how he acts in bed, but you like putting up a fight way more.
Art curls his tongue around your clit and you throw your head back. He gives the throbbing bud a few customary sucks and then he jabs his tongue into your wet hole. You moan and grab onto his hair, bouncing on him in time with his tongue’s short thrusts. You roll your hips down against the slick appendage and cry out when it hits the right spot, grasping onto the headboard for dear life.
“Oh my god, feels so good! Wanted you in my pussy, need you there, sucking me dry-what the fuck, yes!” You squeal, firmly keeping his face nuzzled into your pussy and your thighs around his head.
His hands are playing with your ass while he eats you out. You’re mid bounce when you feel one of his thumbs prod at your ass hole, and the barest hint of having two of your wholes filled gets you moving faster on him. He spread your cheeks wider and kneads the flesh, jiggling them in his hands.
Art responds in kind and slides his tongue around whatever parts of your juicy pussy he can, scooping up your juices and guzzling them down as he stabs his tongue through your sopping folds.
You’d normally pull him back by his hair when you got close, not wanting to get him too dirty with your cum. But now you’re tightening your thighs over his ears and and stuffing his nose into your trimmed pubic hair, bouncing like your life depends on it.
Art spanks you again when your walls spasm around his tongue thirty seconds later. He gulps your orgasm down with love in his eyes and a heartbeat in his dick. He coos at your soft sniffles and massages your trembling thighs when you get up and collapse beside him.
“Thanks for breakfast, angel, I’d rate it 5 stars”. He laughs, half jokingly and half seriously.
“Whatever, perv.” You weakly smack him on the chest and groan, trying to keep your soul in your body. “Go get coffee… please.”
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earthtooz · 1 year ago
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x : LUNCH BREAK :*+゚
in which: you don't visit wriothesley during his lunch break after last night's argument, so he goes to the court of fontaine just to see you.
warnings: approx. 1.9k words, PURE FLUFF, gn!reader x pathetic and soppy and lovesick wriothesley, canon setting, reader works at the court of fontaine, post-argument so very minimal angst, probs not in character LOL
a/n: there's not a lot of content regarding fontaine or wriothesley rn so i apologise if this isn't completely in character. what i do not apologise for, however, is the urge to make him as lovesick as possible.
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There is a notable tension in the Fortress of Meropide, and although a prison isn’t a place for rainbows and sunshine, today it feels especially devastating. It seems that the lord of the prison is the one responsible for it.
Brooding at his desk, Wriothesley glances occasionally at the clock on his desk, growing more and more impatient with each document he has to read through. He is waiting for something: a knock on his door. He is waiting for the call of his name, the reason for their interruption, then your name will reach his ears and an unmatched excitement will bloom in his chest. Then you’ll slip through the doors with lunch for two, he’ll pull out a chair for you right beside him, and mask professionalism that betrays the eagerness your presence always brings out. 
Your absence must be because of the argument that happened last night. One that remained unresolved because he went to bed before you, too furious to try to talk it out. Yet, when Wriothesley woke in the morning, a wave of guilt washed over him when you weren’t pressed against him like usual. Instead, you were on the other side of the mattress, further than an arm’s length away whilst turned away from him and Fontaine’s chilly mornings had never felt colder.
If he didn’t need to go to work much earlier than you, he would have waited until you had woken up to leave, but being the lord of the Fortress of Meropide meant that his presence was demanded. So, with a lingering kiss to your cheek and then your temple, he leaves into the dewy mornings of Fontaine, looking forward to his lunch break that the two of you often share together.
Except now, lunch is almost over and there hasn’t been a knock on his door. No one has called his name- not people he cared about, at least. You haven’t slipped through the heavy set of doors. You haven’t come down from the Court of Fontaine to visit him, and Wriothesley’s patience is thinning.
His fingers itch with the need to hold you, to tuck you close to his chest and just keep you there for a few moments as time pass by. Especially after last night, Wriothesley needs you now more than ever. 
By the time there’s only one hour left in the work day, he snaps. Stands up from his seat with an unmatched sense of fervour because of the unnervingly quiet day and snatches his coat from the hanger, leaving documents unread as he makes a beeline for the exit of the prison. The guards listen attentively to Wriothesley’s final commands for the day in his absence and once the information is cemented, the dark-haired is off without another second wasted.
You, on the other hand, sit in your office drowned in piles upon piles of papers. Wriothesley is a passing thought every now and then, the memories of last night’s harsh argument settling like weights in your stomach. You miss Wriothesley, very dearly, and all you want is to settle things with him. However, the image of his furious eyes and clenched jaw terrifies you beyond belief, you’re not even sure if he’ll be calmer by the time you get home, so for the first time ever, you dread the idea of going home. 
What you are completely unaware of, however, is your lover that is storming your way, desperate to receive the medicine that will cure his moodiness and irritation. 
The knock on your door distracts you from the piles of papers on your desk. 
“Who is it?” you call out, voice reverberating around the spaciousness of your office.
“It’s Wriothesley, can I come in?” His tone is sharp and leaves no room for you to reject him, but the mere sound of his voice causes you to stiffen, grip on your pen tightening as the papers before you lay forgotten. 
What is Wriothesley doing here? He normally never comes up to the Court of Fontaine just to see you because leaving the prison would be far too neglectful. There was also half an hour before he was done for the day, so could there be official business that needs to be discussed? Something urgent, perhaps? 
If it was urgent, then why come to you and not Monsieur Neuvillette- or even Lady Furina?
“Yeah- yes, you can come in,” you mutter.
When the door clicks open, Wriothesley practically barges through, door shutting behind him as he marches towards you. Getting up from your chair, you’re frightened with anticipation due to  how intense his stance is. 
“Is something the matter?” You begin, panic seeping into your voice as he pauses before you, determination setting his eyes ablaze as he eyes you down like prey. “Wriothesley, you’re scaring me, did something happen at the prison-”
“Where were you at lunch?” He demands.
You blink. “Excuse me?”
“Why didn’t you come visit?” 
“Is… is why you came up here? To ask why I didn’t visit you during lunch?”
He nods, expression stern as usual save for a small pout.
“I was swamped with work,” you half-lie, gesturing to the desk behind you and although there is clear evidence on your table through the form of stacked folders and paper, a storm of uncertainty brews in his blue eyes. “I couldn’t visit if I wanted to get these done, I apologise.”
The dark-haired frowns. “Is that it?”
“Yes. That’s all.” His eyebrows furrow, creating crease marks in his forehead that you want to kiss away, alleviating his worries, but you hold yourself back from doing so in fear that Wriothesley does not want you touching him. 
However, a switch is flicked when Wriothesley’s stern expression softens, melting into one resembling a kicked dog. “So you’re not upset with me?” 
“Oh, is that also on your mind?”
“Of course, I don’t like it when you’re upset with me,” your lover mutters, looking away bashfully to conceal the reddening of his cheeks. “You aren’t though, right?”
“No, not upset. Scared, maybe, but definitely not upset.” 
His eyes are glossy when he looks back at you. “Scared, why are you scared?” 
“W-we didn’t end on a good note last night,” you rub your wrist nervously. “I didn’t know if you would be happy with seeing me. On top of that, you can be really intimidating sometimes, so admittedly, I was a little scared to come see you just in case that you did not want me there.”
Wriothesley visually deflates with your last statement, shoulders dropping and eyes glistening as he murmurs a small, pathetic, “is that so?”
He wonders what part about him ever made it seem like he never wants you beside him, and the thought that he had frightened you enough to prevent you visiting him is an upsetting one. You must see it in his eyes with the way you frantically begin to explain yourself. 
“Oh no, darling, I didn’t mean it like that-”
He turns his head away again, disappointed in himself. It’s one thing for his prisoners to consider him intimidating but it’s another for you, his own lover, to think so as well, and the thought that he had scared you creates insurmountable shame to swell within him. Yet, his whirlwind of anxieties ceases when your hand goes to cup his cheek, gently prompting him to look at you. Then, a kiss is pressed to the corner of his lips, and his heart skips a beat at the sensation, love blocking his airways when you pull away to smile up at him. 
“As scary as you might be, oh great lord of the Fortress of Meropide, I also know you will never hurt me,” you reassure. “Rather, I feel safest when I’m around you, please never doubt that.”
Wriothesley sighs, hand snaking up to grip your waist and pull you closer to him. “Thank you, my love. But I beg, even if you assume I am upset with you, please keep visiting my office during lunch, it is the part of the day I look forward to most.”
“If that is your request then maybe you just need to be good and listen to me instead of arguing until your head pops off,” you tease, patting his face twice and he huffs before muttering an ‘understood’. Anything to see you. “Is there something else you need from my office?”
“No, just wanted to see you,” he looks at the brown paper bag in his hands. “I brought you lunch, just in case you didn’t eat.” 
“Wriothesley,” you melt, “how thoughtful of you. I’ll make sure to eat it when I finish reading those contracts.”
“You should eat now, though. Don’t drown yourself in work, it’s not healthy.”
“I wish it were that easy, but these piles were dumped on my desk this morning and were assigned to be done by the end of the week.”
The hand that was on your waist comes up to gently hover over your cheek and Wriothesley studies you, icy eyes hardening due to the fatigue present in your expression. You grab his wrist, trying to diverge his attention, but you should know better than assuming that your wellbeing isn’t of utmost importance to him. “Unacceptable, I should have a word with your supervisor-”
“-no, no, Wriothesley! I insist, this is manageable.”
He frowns, deep and serious before surrendering to your pleas. “Fine, but if it doesn’t get better by the end of the week, then I will be interfering.”
“If you do so, my supervisor will be too scared to come in for a month,” you squeeze his wrist and gently guide it away from your face, ignorant to how your neglect for your own health hurts Wriothesley as well. He knows you love your job, but he still thinks that you deserve to live life carefree, that you should get everything you want without ever lifting a finger. “It’s alright, dear, you mustn’t worry about me when your work is a thousand times more stressful.”
“Impossible.” He worries about you every second of the day. Telling Wriothesley to stop fretting over you would be like telling him to stop breathing. “Now eat.” 
You yelp when he pulls you towards your chair, sitting you down. From the paper bag, he takes out a sandwich, one that you recognise is from one of fontaine’s favourite cafés, and he carefully unwraps it before raising it to your mouth.
“Wriothesley… this is a little embarrassing,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around yourself.
He doesn’t say anything, just persistently stares at you, gaze intense enough for you to give in. As you lean in to take the first bite, you are bashfully looking away from your lover, who wears a pleased expression, satisfied with the fact that you’re letting him take care of you. 
The tension from last night’s dispute hasn’t completely melted away, there are still things that need to be discussed calmly, but as you keep trying to push his hand away and battle Wriothesley’s indestructible stubbornness, he knows it will work out in the end. You love him and he loves you, and if you ever forget to visit him during lunch break again, then he’ll have to tear himself away from the prison and come up, just to meet you.
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© EARTHTOOZ 2023, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.
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no-144444 · 27 days ago
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Mark my words.- o.piastri
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summary: mark slips up about your marriage.
pairing: oscar piastri (no.81) x fem! rb!mechanic! wife! reader
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He crossed the finish line, and you couldn’t help the smile on your face. Sure, Checo had crashed in the last lap and Max had gotten p6. Not a good result, but then again, that’s what you had told Christian would happen if he didn’t let you build the car. 
You were Adrian’s protege. You were the next Newey. Christian was just too focused on the past. 
“Fuck!” he groaned, slamming his headset on the desk. 
“I told you so,” you sighed, leaving him at the desk and running to the parc fermé. Oscar would be coming through in mere minutes, and you wanted to be there to see him. Secretly dating another team’s driver wasn’t easy, but you two made it work. You were both lowkey about things, even though you’d been married for about a year now. You stood beside Nicole, far away from your own team, but you didn’t really care. You wanted to see the light in his eyes when he came up to his mum and you. 
Nicole wrapped her arms around you, cheering as you both relived the moment that Oscar had won. Oscar Piastri, 2 time Gran Prix winner. He’d proven himself time and time again, he wasn’t a second driver, and McLaren now had a difficult choice to make. 
But all that was for another day. Today was about Oscar. 
He ran over to the team, finally spotting his mum and you beside her. You could see from his eyes that he was smiling. She pulled him into a tight hug. 
“You did it!” she cheered, holding him close. “I’m so proud of you.”
He pulled off his helmet, smiling at her. “Thanks mum, love you loads,” he smiled, then turned his attention to you. “Not bad, eh?”
You smirked. “Not bad Piastri.”
“Not bad for you either, Piastri,” he smirked as you rolled your eyes. 
“Go get weighed idiot, I’ll catch you in the airport, yeah?”
“Wouldn’t miss you for the world,” he winked, then walked off to continue the celebrations. 
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You woke up the next morning, sore, with Oscar beside you. You groaned as you turned over, shutting off his alarm. “Osc,” you yawned. 
“Shush,” he whispered. “Five more minutes.”
“Oscar, we need to get up,” you reminded him, but he just tightened his grip on your waist. “Come on Osc, I need a shower.”
He smirked and you rolled your eyes, not missing his innuendo. “I could-”
“We did enough of that last night, give me time to recover,” you laughed. “Worth a shot,” he smiled. “Alright, I’ll start on some breakfast.”
He pressed his lips to yours in a sweet greeting (also short because his breath stinks in the morning) and you went your separate ways. This weekend was Singapore, and you knew how tough it was on every driver, engineer, and mechanic. Singapore was always the race you dreaded. It was unpredictable and hot. Way too hot. 
You came out of the shower to see Oscar pacing the kitchen, on the phone with a very stressed Mark. “No I understand that, but I thought they wouldn’t hear us… I-I didn’t mean to-“
“Oscar, it’s too late mate. You’d better just come out with it, or get your mum to, or something. People are getting really confused and they think Y/n is your sister or something,” Mark sighed
You burst out laughing, making Oscar laugh. 
“They think we’re siblings?” you laughed. ���What the fuck?”
“You did call her ‘Piastri’ to be fair mate,” Mark chuckled.
“Well that is her second name!” he defended.
“Osc, just post our wedding photos or something,” you shrugged. “Or we could just let people speculate.”
“Sorry baby, but I don’t really love the idea of people thinking you’re one of my sisters,” he mocked, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. 
You shrugged, grabbing a piece of toast he'd made you. “I don’t care, I’m just an insignificant engineer from RedBull.”
He rolled his eyes, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re so helpful,” he responded sarcastically.
“Using sarcasm as a defence mechanism because you don’t want to admit you’re the breadwinner of the family? How humble and noble of you,” you laughed, pressing a kiss to his cheek and squeezing his ass, making him jump. 
“I hate it when you do that,” he scoffed, batting your hand away. You knew he loved it. 
“Anyways, what’s our action plan lads?” Mark asked. 
“Up to you,” you shrugged. “I don’t care.”
“Will I post on twitter and act like it’s been common knowledge?” He suggested.
“Mate, no one would believe that. You’re known for keeping things secret and being nonchalant, just do that,” Mark laughed. 
“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. “Thanks Mark.”
“See you in Singapore,” he sighed and you grained as Oscar hung up the phone. 
“Fucking Singapore,” you groaned. 
“I know,” he nodded in agreement. “Hopefully this year I won’t be as ill.”
“Let’s fucking hope so,” you smoothed down his hair. “You need to start brushing your hair baby. It’s so awful in the mornings.”
His lips became a line and he nodded. “Humbling me isn’t always necessary,” he breathed out and wrapped his arms around you, grabbing your ass as he pressed kisses on your face and neck. “But it is appreciated,” he finished sarcastically, as you pushed him off giggling. 
“You’d appreciate it more if you took the advice,” you muttered, taking a bite of your toast. 
He shook his head, chuckling. “How’d I get so lucky?” he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 
You shrugged. “By using the dark arts?” you teased and he just laughed. 
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You walked into the Singapore paddock with Lando, deep in conversation about his upcoming birthday party. You usually weren’t photographed all that often in the paddock, and when you were, it’s usually because you were beside a driver or someone more important, mostly because you were known to ruin photos. Holding up your middle finger, threatening to flash the camera, etc, it’s what has made you a Gen Z favourite. You also refused to go up on the podium, no matter how many times Max asked. You were pretty low-key about everything, it worked well. 
“So I was definitely thinking a DJ, but what about the dress code? Should it be casual? Business casual? Black tie?” he questioned. 
You rolled your eyes. “Club attire Lando, it’s being held at a club, let people dress like they’re going to a club.”
He nodded, as if he’d never thought of that. “You’re a genius!”
“You’re a fucking idiot,” you sighed as he walked off to the McLaren motorhome. 
You walked off to the RedBull motorhome, noticing more cameras on you than normal. Most people just left you alone, it wasn’t often that the camera followed you (mostly because of your aforementioned behaviour), but tonight they wouldn’t let up. 
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Even as you sat in the pitlane, chatting to Daniel, you were still being recorded. 
“Do you know what this whole thing is about?” you asked Daniel and he looked at you like you were crazy. 
“Have you not seen what Mark posted?” he asked, his eyes wide. 
“What the fuck did he post?” you asked, rushing to get your phone out. 
And there it was. Mark had announced it for you. 
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aussiegrit
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tagged: oscarpiastri , reallyy/n
Liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen and 872,928 others
aussiegrit: These two crazy kids were too busy being in love (and winning races) to tell you guys that they’re married! Love you two xxx
comments
alexalbon: oh oscar’s going to go mad.
landonorris: marks time of death: now.
oscarpiastri: I WANTED TO POST FIRST
oscarpiastri: THIS SHIT IS UNFAIR. FUCK YOU MARK -> reallyy/n: someone will be sent to the stewards if you don't stop with the language...
pierregasly: it still freaks me out that they're MARRIED and 22 and 23. like wtf. -> kikagomez: 👀 -> pierregasly: ... -> user82: SHE CLOCKED YOU I FEAR
user93: I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT THIS (no i'm not.)
user22: THIS IS SO ADORABLE WTF
sebvettel: good memories! officiating was such a blast! -> user883: SEB OFFICIATED? -> user21: it makes sense, y/n has been super close with the schumachers and seb since she was a kid because of her dads job as a mechanic in f1. he worked for ferrari from the 1980s to around 2015. -> user02: LORE DROP?????
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“That dickhead!” you cursed. “I’m going to go find Osc, I’ll be right back.”
He nodded and sent you on your way. You had to tell Oscar, he definitely didn’t know yet, right? He was going to lose it at Mark, he wanted to be the one to post, he wan-
And you walked into someone. Someone wearing papaya. Oscar wearing papaya. Oscar. 
“Did you see?!” “Did you see?!”
You both chuckled, then remembered the situation. 
“I’ll kill him for you if you want?” you offered and he just smiled. 
“It had to come out somehow,” he shrugged. “Though, those aren’t the pictures I’d pick.” 
“We all know what pictures you’d pick,” Lando interjected, winking at you. Oscar elbowed him. “I meant your wedding pictures!” “Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “Anyway, we can call him later and kill him together. Sounds good?” 
He nodded, wrapping a hand around your waist, the other landing on your ass. “Sounds great.” 
He quickly pressed his lips to yours, feeling all of the cameras on him, but still not caring. “Love you.”
“Love you too,” you smiled before walking away, back to your conversation with Daniel. 
Mark was going to get murdered, that was just a fact. Mark your words.
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