#jack daniels is so sweet

[lionlena]

Llamas don't drink whiskey... (JackDanielsxf!reader) one shot

Summary: Jack allows you to have many animals on his ranch, but will he allow llamas?

Warnings: fluff, a lot of fluff, a tiny bit of smut

Llamas don't drink whiskey

A few weeks after you became Jack's fiancée, he asked you to move to his ranch. You agreed immediately because you saw only the advantages. First of all, you could be closer to your beloved Cowboy. Always wait for him when he returns from his mission. Secondly, it was a good opportunity to get to know each other even better before the wedding and introduce your own changes. Although you didn't want to change his home too much, because the truth was that you loved Jack's ranch. It was wonderful, just like in the picture.

And there was a third reason: ANIMALS.

You loved animals, but you could never keep them because first your stepsister was allergic, so your parents didn't let you have pets. When you were a student, you didn't have this option either, and then, the owners of the apartments you rented didn't agree to keep animals. So it had to be enough for you to help at the animal shelter and take care of your friend's pets.

But that finally changed. Because there were animals on Jack's ranch (your ranch) and you could have kept more.

Jack was happy to make your dreams come true. Your happiness was his happiness. So you already had your own horse, dog, cat, Vietnamese pig... Jack agreed to everything.

"You want chickens, Sugar. You'll have chickens."

"You want to have rabbits, Sugar. You're going to have rabbits."

However, your last request was not met with such enthusiasm. You were lying on the couch together. You on Jack with a satisfied face after riding him. You were both catching your breath after you both reached your climax. His cock was still twitching inside you as you blurted out:

"Can we have a llama?"

Jack opened his eyes and looked at you as if you had asked for a giraffe.

"What are you gonna do with a llama, huh? You just want to get one for the aesthetic?"

You looked at him offended and pouted:

"No... Cuddling a llama cures anxiety and calms you down. They are great therapy animals."

Jack chuckled at that. He had never even considered a llama as a suitable therapy animal. But then, his mind switched gears, and he raised his eyebrow.

"But can you even ride a llama?"

You started laughing as you imagined it. Your Cowboy on a llama.

"I don't think you can ride on llamas... They might be pack animals, I guess."

"So why do you need a llama?" He replied jokingly.

You shook your head, knowing full well that he was teasing you.

"You can't ride dogs, or chickens, or even cows, but we keep them."

Jack smiled and stroked your hair.

"The dog guards the ranch, the chickens give eggs, the cows give milk, and the llamas..."

"And llamas bring comfort."

Jack laughed and looked into your beautiful eyes. He knew he wouldn't be able to resist your request for long. He loved you too much.

"So you want a llama for therapeutic purposes, right? That means you have to cuddle a giant llama every time you feel anxious or stressed. Could you do that? Would a llama even be a good cuddle partner? I mean, it has a neck, long neck, and such a goofy little face."

"A llama is a great cuddle buddy… Llamas are so cute and…" You stroked his cheek. "I think you're kind of like a llama."

"I am?" He asked, raising his eyebrows playfully. It was obvious that he wasn't annoyed by this strange comparison, after all, he was so in love with you that nothing could make him mad at you. "So... you're going to cuddle with me to relieve your stress, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes." You said and hugged him tightly. "You're perfect for cuddling."

That's what he wanted to hear. He protected and cared for you, and he didn't mind at all that you treated him like a comfortable pillow. On the contrary, it gave him incredible happiness. He wrapped his arms around you and held you close to him as if you were a precious treasure.

"You can come and cuddle with me whenever you want, Sweetheart."

You sighed in contentment and kissed his neck.

"So... Can I have llamas?"

He laughed when you asked again. It seemed like your obsession with llamas was even bigger than his obsession with you. But he was ready to fulfill this request as well.

"Of course, you can have a llama, princess. I won't even argue with your request. I'll buy you the biggest and best llama. A male llama too, in case you'd be happy knowing you'll have a little llama guy to cuddle with when you're stressed."

You giggled happily and looked into his eyes lovingly.

"You're the best."

And those were the words that immediately made him smile broadly, his heart swelling with love for you and pride in himself. He loved it when his Sugar was happy because it meant his happiness. He wanted nothing more than to live with you on your ranch. And he didn't mind that this ranch was slowly turning into a mini zoo.

He imagined that maybe one day there would be a little cowboy running among all these animals... Or a little princess.

He kissed your head and purred softly:

"You'll get your llama."

*

A month later, four llamas appeared on your ranch because: "Jack, a llama can't live alone, they need a herd."

So you had three females and of course one male. Each llama was different. One was all white, the second was white and brown, and the third was black. The male, named Cobalt, was light-colored with brown dots and... You couldn't help but think he was making exactly the same faces as Jack. You even bought him a little cowboy hat and secretly called him Jack.

Of course, Whiskey still pretended that llamas were unnecessary and that they were of no use.

However, one day you caught him hugging one of them. You entered the stable quietly and leaned against the doorframe, watching your beloved pet the llama's neck. The day before, he had returned from a hard mission and had apparently discovered the therapeutic properties of llamas.

You cleared your throat and he immediately moved away from the llama and scratched his head.

"What... I just came to feed them... She stuck to me herself."

"Of course, Jack." You replied and giggled. "So, llamas aren't that useless."

He sighed and rolled his eyes. He started stroking the llama's neck again.

"They're not that bad, but they have one major flaw." You raised your eyebrows, intrigued. "They don't drink whiskey."

You started laughing loudly. Of course, it was all Jack. He had to find some flaw, no matter how absurd. He couldn't just admit that he liked llamas.

"Oh yeah... Llamas don't drink whiskey." You repeated and walked over to him.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and snuggled into his broad chest. After all, he was always your first choice when it came to cuddling.

Jack immediately hugged you back and kissed your head.

"But you know who drinks whiskey?" You started talking. "Me. So I can be your companion."

He chuckled softly and pulled you closer to him.

"You are the best companion." He whispered into your ear. "For everything, not just drinking whiskey."

You felt yourself getting pleasantly warm. You grabbed his hand.

"Let's get out of here. Llamas shouldn't have to witness what happens after drinking whiskey."

Jack laughed loudly and wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Of course, Sugar! Leave the llamas... You can't ride them. But You can ride your cowboy!"

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

[doctor-cunt-phd]

Currently considering how the first time Daniel is presumed dead Jack broke a window because of how helpless he felt. The way he remembered Daniel screaming for his help, not being able to do anything before it was too late. That really got to him. I think being helpless to the death in his life is a constant theme for Jack that he's always had to accept and sit with and try not to break windows over every day.

So I think it's really fitting and touching that when Daniel really died (ascended, but for all intents and purposes, was dying), when he was dying painfully, hopelessly, in front of all his loved ones- He asked Jack for help, he gave Jack the honor of helping him pass on, trusted him, gave him the opportunity to say goodbye that Jack never, Never seems to be allowed.

[kindlythevoid]

May 11th, Letter from Miss Lucy Westenra to Miss Mina Murray

Dracula by Bram Stoker // @fairycosmos // Pinterest // Us Against You by Fredrik Backman // Daniel F. Gerhartz // To My School Friends by Nivya // Old Friends by Ben Rector // Pinterest // Dracula by Bram Stoker // butterflies rising // Passion by Francisco Soria Aedo // Strawberry Blond by Mitski // Paul and Virginia by Alessandro Puttinati // Pinterest // Dracula by Bram Stoker

Jonathan Harker's Insta Begins Here, Mina's Interlude (prev), Next Insta Post

[autistic-danieljackson]

Something I haven’t seen talked about is Jack telling Daniel “I know what it’s like” during his withdrawal from the sarcophagus in Need. A lot of backstory in that short line.

[born-to-lose]

"No more giving my number out to random people who flirt with me at work" I say as if I'm not going into the next shift with a pen and tissues in my pocket

[potatonatto17]

I think being able to connect ocs in these most beautiful and touching relationships. And you can explore heartbreak and grief and it’s just. Idk it makes me so happy to be living and be rping with friends and creating these connections that tug at my heart because they mean so much to me.

[riverageleis]

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Stargate SG-1 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter/Daniel Jackson/Cameron Mitchell (Stargate) Characters: Sam Carter (Stargate), Daniel Jackson (Stargate), Jack O'Neill, Cameron Mitchell (Stargate), Original Characters, Maybe a dog or two Additional Tags: Polyamory, Demisexual Character, Internalized Homophobia, established poly relationship, New secondary relationship, Friends to Lovers Series: Part 3 of Best Friends Summary:

In the third part of the Best Friends series, Jack decides to ask Daniel out. Despite watching Daniel, Sam, and Cameron navigate a successful polyamorous relationship for several years, he's still unsure of the rules. After talking it over with Cam, Jack decides to give it a try with Daniel anyway.

With the help of Sam and Cameron, their biggest allies and cheerleaders, they will navigate Jack's insecurities and preconceived notions about what relationships are and how they should look. As they do, Daniel discovers that he's still got boundaries to test while on this journey, as well.

This is Jack/Daniel-centric story.

[enigmatic-mystery-777]

Daniel was so hurt in this 😭😭😭

I’d rather be a thief and alive than honest and dead. It’s a cliché, but there it is. STARGATE SG-1 “SHADES OF GREY”

[lionlena]

Headcanon: What does Jack's ranch look like? 🤠🐴🐓🐮🧑‍🌾

First of all, it is well secured. It has security cameras, gates that open only with a special code, and an alarm system. The windows in the house are bulletproof. The house also has a well-equipped basement in case a tornado hits. But it can also be used as a safe room because it has its own air conditioning, a place to sleep, and food supplies.

All this, of course, is to keep his Sugar, you, safe.

Jack knows the world is dangerous. And when he's on a mission, he wants to make sure you're safe.

There are, of course, animals at Jack's ranch. Jack loves animals, especially horses.

Therefore, in a large spacious stable, there are several horses on which Jack rides. And of course, if you also love horses, Jack will buy a horse, especially for you.

There is also room for the two of you in the stable in the attic. There is a blanket and pillows between the straw bales.

Jack loves laying there with you. Sometimes you end up naked and sweaty... But that doesn't always happen. Sometimes you just lie there (usually with your head on his chest), talk, and enjoy the smell of hay and the snorting of horses.

Apart from horses, there are also other animals. Dogs, cats, chickens, goats…

Jack takes care of all his animals. He would not allow anyone to suffer or starve. Each animal has its own warm place to sleep.

Jack's house, of course, resembles a typical cowboy's house. It is large, with a porch surrounded by a white picket fence. Of course, Jack will hang an American flag and hang a horseshoe above the door.

Inside the house is very neat. Jack doesn't like keeping unnecessary things and decorations. Of course, bull horns are hanging on the wall, and a cowhide rug by the fireplace, but other than that Jack doesn't pay much attention to decorations.

Of course, this can change thanks to you. Colorful pillows, a vase of flowers, photos of you together... Jack will complain and say it's unnecessary, but deep inside he will be happy that his home is becoming cozier and he can see your hand in it.

Jack likes luxury. There is a mini cinema in his house so you don't have to go anywhere. Besides, in his mini cinema, he doesn't have to worry about anything. If the movie is too boring, his hand will start caressing your thigh, moving higher and higher...

And suddenly he will be kneeling between your legs and you won't be able to focus on the movie

He also has his own jacuzzi and Jack loves it when you go in there naked...

Jack's ranch is surrounded by green meadows where you often have picnics.

There's also a river that Jack loves to take you to. There's a good chance he'll propose to you there.

Life is slow and happy on Jack's ranch, and you don't worry about anything.

Pernament tag list: @harriedandharassed

[no-144444]

The Grid! : When their teammate likes you...

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Featuring: Oscar Piastri, Lando Norris, Lewis Hamilton, George Russell, Alex Albon, Franco Colapinto, Logan Sargeant, Daniel Riccardo, Liam Lawson, Charles LeClerc, Carlos Sainz, Arthur LeClerc, Ollie Bearman, Max Verstappen, Paul Aron, Jack Doohan.

this is 18+ so mdni please! smut in some of them!

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Oscar Piastri: somehow plays it cool…

Oscar understood that you were a magnetic person. You’d always been more extroverted than him, always been a bit more open to other people, and generally, you were just interesting. He got where Lando was coming from, to be fair, he’d fallen for you too. 

But openly flirting with you in the middle of a red flag during one of the most dangerous races of the season? That took a certain asshole. 

Lando Norris. 

Oscar had looked up to Lando throughout his career, and now having him as his teammate was brilliant. He loved it, up to a point. In recent months he’d been noticing the way Lando looked at you. The way he talked to you. The way he always wanted to be around you. 

“Hey baby,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around Oscar as he walked up. “Doing well out there.”

He also knew that you were less than interested in Lando. Not that you didn’t like him, but you did find him slightly immature and ridiculous, especially with how he handles races and media afterwards. You much preferred Oscar’s style of driving, and his way of speaking. 

Oscar nodded, pressing a kiss to your cheek. He watched as Lando’s face fell, then he quickly picked it back up. “Doing our best, right Lando?”

You both looked to Lando, who looked guilty, like he’d been caught. 

“Yeah mate,” he agreed before walking off. 

“Jealous much?” you smirked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

Oscar shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Just wanted a kiss, that’s all.”

“From me or Lando?” you teased.

“You, obviously,” he mocked. 

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Lando Norris: deeply insecure. 

Lando is insecure about a lot of things. One of his main ones is his worth as a human, and a driver. It hit him hard when Oscar got to stand on the top step of a podium before he ever had. He knew it was a matter of circumstance and the fact that the car was getting better, but it still hurt. Yet, you were always there to pick up the pieces. His sweet, kind girlfriend who was always there for him. 

That same girlfriend that was laughing at a joke Oscar told. Oscar wasn’t funny. Oscar has never been funny. 

Lando watched as you two talked. He watched the way you laughed, the way you smiled, the way you engaged with his points and added your own. The way you two easily laughed, joked, and teased each other without ever going too far. 

He couldn’t help but feel… without. You had always been more introverted, and your extroverted side always seemed to come out with other introverts, aka, not Lando. Then began his spiralling of wondering whether or not he was good enough for you. He knew you loved him, and he loved you, but would that be enough? When you’re so different? When he can’t give you what Oscar can? Oscar was a 2-time-Gp winner in his second year. Oscar was more similar to you than Lando was. Oscar’s personality was closer to yours than Lando’s was. 

Was he enough for you?

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He walked into the hotel room, exhausted, and glad that the day was over. Media days took it out of him, and he was sick of watching Oscar’s smug face as he charmed you all day. 

You flung yourself on the bed, exhausted. “Oscar would not shut up today, would he?” you sighed. 

Lando’s lips quirked up into a smile. He turned to hide it. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He kept talking to me about random shit, and I had to pretend to be interested all day.”

Lando almost laughed. “You don’t seem to mind when I talk your ear off.” 

“Yeah, obviously not,” you scoffed, looking at him as if it were obvious. “I like your rants. You don’t expect me to answer you all the time. You just let me listen. Plus, I love your voice.”

Lando’s heart felt fuller than it did before. You picked him. You loved him. 

“You like my voice, eh?” he smirked, joining you on the bed. He pressed soft kisses to your neck as he wrapped his arms around you. “I know a way you can hear it-”

“Lando, did I not just say I’m exhausted,” you chuckled, playfully pushing him off. 

He smiled. You truly were perfect. 

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Lewis Hamilton: unbothered 

He watched as George attempted to flirt with you and laughed. You laughed too, thinking it was a joke. George walked off, embarrassed. 

Lewis walked over and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close. “George is-”

“Pathetic?” he offered and you shook your head. 

“Don’t be so mean!” you scolded. 

“He’s a big boy, he can take it,” he smirked. “And anyways, what was he thinking?”

“I am your wife,” you nodded, agreeing. “But he is pretty cute…”

Lewis raised an eyebrow. “Should I be worried?” he teased. 

You laughed. “Never.” 

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George Russell: trusts you

“Lewis, nice to meet you,” you smiled, shaking his hand. “I’m Y/n Russell.”

“Y/n… your sister?” Lewis turned to George, smirking. “I didn’t realise she was so pretty, I guess someone had to take all the beauty genes.”

“She’s my wife,” he smirked, wrapping an arm around your waist. “And yes, she is gorgeous.”

You somehow kept it together as Lewis apologised and walked off, but immediately broke out into laughter as he turned his back. 

“What a dick,” George chuckled. “You alright?”

“All good baby,” you giggled. “A bit weirded out that he thought we were siblings.”

George nodded, grimacing. “I vote we never speak about this again.”

“I second that,” you nodded. 

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Kimi Antonelli: confused more than anything

Ollie was a really nice guy, one of Kimi’s best friends despite only knowing each other for a year. He was a good teammate and a good friend. 

Kimi was clueless. He didn’t always understand what people meant when people ‘flirted’, to be fair, English was his second language. He watched as Ollie wrapped an arm around you, resting it over your shoulder as you grimaced, clearly wanting him to stop. Kimi just shrugged, assuming you’d just push him off or ask him to stop. You weren’t exactly known to put up with shit like that, so he wasn’t worried. You three walked around the Monaco bay, looking at the boats as the sun set, all three of you full from dinner. When you finally parted ways, you and Kimi went back to your hotel room as Ollie stayed out, going to Arthur’s house to visit, you sighed as you lay down. 

“What did you think of Ollie?” Kimi asked, laying beside you, your back to him. 

“Apart from his obvious flirting, I thought he was nice, I guess,” you shrugged. 

Kimi frowned. “What do you mean?”

You turned around to see him. “Him flirting? Yeah, I thought you’d say something about it,” you explained. “He was kind of… weird about it.”

“Did he make you uncomfortable?” he asked, upset with himself that he hadn't noticed. 

You stared at him with an inquisitive look, he really was oblivious. “Of course he did.”

“What?” he questioned. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to make a bad impression,” you muttered. “He’s your best friend.”

“And you’re my girlfriend,” he reminded you, taking your hand. “And you are more important. If someone makes you uncomfortable, you tell me and I will deal with it, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a gentle kiss to his hand. “Thanks Kimi.”

“Anything for you,” he smiled. 

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Alex Albon: slightly insecure…

He sat in his drivers room, he’d just filmed Team Torque with you and Logan, and he couldn’t help but feel… left out. You were American, specifically from the exact state of Florida, where Logan was from, you lived on the same street. You’d grown up together before he left to move to do European single-seaters. The entire episode was just you two talking and reminiscing over your joint experiences as a kid. Logan remembered everything about you, your favourite colour, your favourite food, even your favourite childhood movie (which Alex had gotten wrong). 

“What’s on your mind?” You asked, sitting beside him. “You’re not talking.”

“I didn’t know you and Logan were such good friends,” he admitted. 

You shrugged. “We grew up together.” 

“I know,” he responded, his voice low and hardened. “I didn’t know he’d remember everything about you.”

“I mean, people told me he had a crush on me in middle school so…” you trailed off when you noticed how Alex was closing his eyes and nodding. “Are you… jealous, or something?”

“No.” Yes. 

You smiled, feeling a little bit guilty. “Alex, you don’t have to be jealous,” you assured him. “I love you. More than anything.”

The pain in his chest eased slightly. “You’re sure?”

“Very,” you nodded, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

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Franco Colapinto: doesn’t even notice or gaf

Alex laughed at one of your jokes as Franco looked over some of the data from his crash. After a while, you walked over, wrapping your arms around his waist and hugging him from behind. 

“Hi bebé,” he smiled, tired, but happy to see you. “How are you?”

You groaned. “Alex keeps flirting with me.”

His ears pricked up hearing you say that. “Alex?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. He turned to you. 

“Should I ask him to stop? I can talk to him-”

“It’s alright, I made him aware of the fact that I’m not interested,” you explained. 

“Oh, alright,” he shrugged. “Once you’re happy.”

He went back to looking over the data and you frowned. No reaction? No possessiveness?

“You don’t mind?” you questioned. 

“That he was flirting with you?” he asked, you nodded. “No, not really. I’m the one you’ve chosen for 3 years. We love each other, sí?” 

You nodded. 

“So we’re fine,” he smiled and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

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Logan Sargeant: also a bit upset…

He sighed as he watched Alex chat to you, a smirk on his face. You were his girlfriend, Alex couldn’t have you. Alex had James, Alex had Williams, Alex had the talent. Logan had you. Alex couldn’t have you. 

You glanced back at Logan, who had grown quieter in recent moments, and you frowned. His eyes were blown up, wide-eyed, mouth open, and his mind was thousands of miles away. You politely ended the conversation with Alex, dragging Logan back into his driver's room with a concerned expression. “Are you alright?”

He nodded, trying to play it off. “I”m fine, just… tired.”

You frowned again. “Logan, you can talk to me.” 

He shook his head, his hands gripping your waist, then the dam broke and he rested his head on your shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you if I lose this.”

Your heart broke. “Logan you’d-“

“No, please just let me talk,” he whispered. “I love you, more than anything. We both know I’m getting replaced either after or during this season,” hearing him say it as such a definite, hurt you. You knew how badly Williams had messed him up, but to hear him so defeated? You could’ve cried. “And I don’t want to lose you if I lose all of this. I love racing, but I love you more. You’ve been here through everything, always. You’re always here for me, and I just hope I haven’t fucked this whole relationship up with all my mental health stuff and being a bad driver-”

“Logan,” your tone was stern. “I love you. I love you, my Logan. I support ‘F1 driver Logan Sargeant’, and you’ll always be that, but I love Logan Sargeant, the boy who asked me out when I was 14 and never looked back, the boy who has made me feel loved and supported since that day, the boy who fought an uphill battle and is only now realising he’s allowed to let the boulder fall. I love that you’re a fighter. I love that you’re a driver. But I love most that you care about and love me. I care more about your mental health than any money or fame you could ever gain. I’m not asking you to keep putting yourself through this, Logan. I want you to be healthy and happy. I want you to smile again. I want to see the real you again.”

“What is the real me if I’m not winning?” his voice was just below a whisper. 

“You get to figure that out,” you smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Now please look at me Logan, so you know that I’m telling the truth.”

He raised his head, his eyes watery as he looked at yours, and for the first time in a while, he actually felt like it might all be ok. 

Granted, only when he was with you, but alright all the same. 

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Daniel Riccardo: freaky wit it

Daniel gripped his steering wheel harder, his knuckles turning white under his gloves. He was in the car, meant to be in the zone, but all he could think about was the way that Yuki had a hand on your back. He knew Yuki definitely wasn’t a threat to him or his relationship, but it still felt shitty not being able to get over there and show him that you were his. 

He rushed out of the car, exhausted after bringing the VCarb in Q3 yet again, and immediately his hands were on you. 

“Looking so good today baby,” he whispered between kisses. “So fuckin’ pretty for me.”

You groaned against his lips, smiling. “Yeah?” 

“Oh yeah baby, the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen,” he smirked as he pushed a hand into your underwear. Your eyes went wide and you clapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from moaning too loud. You weren’t even in his drivers room, you were doing it against Yuki’s door in the hallway. 

“We should-fuck- we should go to your r-room,” you stuttered out as he rubbed your clit in lazy circles. 

“Why?” he smirked. “When I could have you right here and now,” he punctuated every word with a kiss, moving your hand and swallowing your moans as he sped up. “So fuckin’ beautiful so me.”

“Dan,” you moaned as he finally pushed a finger in. 

“So wet for me too. You like doing it like this? Where anyone could hear you? Anyone could see us?” he knew his words were falling on deaf ears as he revelled in the fact that he got to watch you fall apart for him. He got to make you cum, he got to kiss you, he heard every laugh, saw every part of you and your personality. It was him who you picked to love, and be loved in return. 

And by God, he wouldn’t trade you for the world. 

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Liam Lawson: angry sex anyone???

Liam grabbed your hand, pulling you into his drivers room after he had watched Yuki give you heart-eyes yet again. 

“That fucking dick,” he seethed, pressing his body against yours, pressing kisses up and down your neck. “Always fuckin’ wants what’s mine.” 

“Liam,” you whimpered as he pushed you down on the bed. “Please.”

Any and all control of himself was abandoned, and he pulled his race suit off, watching as you pulled off your dress. 

“Fuckin’ perfect,” he cursed, climbing on top of you as he smirked. “You’re all mine, aren’t you?”

You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slowly pushed inside you. It burned, in the best way. “All yours.”

He smiled. “That’s my girl, taking me so well.”

Once he was fully inside and you were comfortable, he was thrusting in and out of you at a rate previously unknown to Liam. Did he like fast and rough sex? Yes. Was it ever this fast? No. Was it ever this rough? … no comment. He was grabbing and smacking all over your ass and tits, you were too busy gripping onto his hair as he used you how he pleased, all the while cursing out Yuki and praising you. 

You both left the driver’s room a little bit less steady than before, but much more satisfied than going in. Liam felt better too, since he’d given you something to show just how much he meant it when he said he was yours, and you were his. That something stayed dripping down your leg as Liam finished the race, ahead of Yuki. 

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Charles LeClerc: death?

He watched, the light in his eyes slowly dying, as you spoke animatedly to Carlos. 

Carlos Sainz, now number one enemy of Charles LeClerc. 

Honestly, he knew you’d never choose anyone over him, you loved him and he knew that. Still, some voice inside of him continued to urge him to run over to you two and scream ‘mine’ and then run off with you. He didn’t, obviously. He knew you would’ve been mad at him if he did. 

As the day continued, you stayed talking to Carlos, every so often, Charles would interject with a sarcastic comment, or some stupid fact about you, then following it up with ‘yeah, I know more than you’. It turned the two of them into school children. Both of them coming to you at different times of the day with random facts about random things, until you finally told them both to stop and share their love of facts with each other, not you. You had gotten so frustrated with the two of them, that you didn’t even want to speak to Charles. 

They both stopped after that. 

Any time Charles was jealous after that palaver? Yeah, he just stuck with the regular PDA overload. He didn’t want to deal with another sex ban. 

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Carlos Sainz: also freaky wit it

His gaze darkened as he watched Charles put a hand on your shoulder. Bullshit. You were his girlfriend. You were his. 

“Querida, stop fucking with me,” he demanded, a tight hold on your arm as he dragged you into his hotel room, 30 minutes later. 

You scoffed. “I’m shockingly not fucking with you at all,” you smiled, annoyed but unsurprised at his shitty behaviour. “In fact, I was being perfectly nice to everyone, including you, all night.”

He watched as you sat on the bed, exasperated and tired of his behaviour. He noticed how you quickly pulled off your heel, took down your hair and sighed, staring at him. 

“What?” you asked. “What did I do now?”

Part of him left bad, it wasn’t your fault that you were irresistible. It wasn’t your fault that Charles thought he could have whatever he wanted. It wasn’t your fault that you had to be kind, just to keep up appearances. It still made his blood boil, but he did appreciate the fact that it wasn’t technically your fault. 

But someone had to help him get rid of all of this pent up tension. 

“On your knees,” he spoke, his voice low and laced with desire. Your eyes widened, but you did as he said anyway and sank down to your knees in front of him, “It’s going to be a long night, querida. I can’t wait to see your pretty makeup smudged,” he smiled sadistically as you tried to not be as turned on as you were. 

I guess you two were a match made in heaven, or maybe hell. 

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Arthur LeClerc: plays his jealousy off… (not)

He grabbed a handful of your ass, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to yours as you yelped. You had been unsuspecting as you leaned over the guest barrier, trying to hear what Manuel was saying to you, when Arthur had caught his other teammate, Charles, staring at you with a smirk. 

You shoved him off after a few seconds and stared at him, waiting for an explanation. 

He shrugged. “Je voulais t'embrasser,” (I wanted to kiss you). “Is that a crime?”

“When you’re doing it like that, yes,” you chuckled, amused by his jealousy. 

“What?’ he smirked. “You don’t like it?” he teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “Arthur LeClerc,” your tone was warning. “Don’t push it,” you leaned in closer, whispering. “Tout le monde n'est pas aussi obsédé par moi que toi, arrête d'être jaloux.” (Not everyone is as obsessed with me as you, stop being jealous).

He laughed. “Tu es irrésistible,” he pressed another kiss to your lips. “I cannot help it!” You gave him the finger as he walked away, and he blew you a kiss.

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Ollie Bearman: a bit upset…

He literally hit his head against the desk as he watched Kimi flash you his signature smile. He was sick of it. You were his girlfriend, not Kimi's best friend. You were his girlfriend. Alas, he couldn’t exactly whisk you away, you were his race engineer after all, and this was a strategy meeting, so he sucked it up and paid attention, trying not to look at you. 

You’d noticed how low Ollie had been all day and caught up with him as you walked out of the strategy meeting. “You alright?” you asked, wrapping one his arms around your shoulders as you walked beside him, away from the rest of the group. 

“I’m alright,” he lied, a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes on his lips. You frowned. 

“Please talk to me,” you begged. “I don’t like it when you shut me out.”

He sighed. “It’s embarrassing.”

“It’s not,” you smiled. “I’m sure it’s not Ollie, just talk to me.”

“I don’t like how close Kimi is to you,” he admitted. “I’m… It makes me jealous sometimes.”

Your face softened. “So I’ll put some distance,” you shrugged. “Easy.”

He did a double-take. “N-no I- you don’t have to do-”

“Ollie. I want us to work, and if that means I have to ask Kimi to back off a little bit, then I’ll do it, yeah?”

Ollie nodded. “I’m sorry-”

“Shut up and kiss me, Bearman,” you rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as you pressed your lips to his. 

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Max Verstappen: ummm guys???

Max would be an insufferable child. He would literally hide their gloves and racing shoes, he would put dish-soap in their bottle, he’d somehow fuck up their laundry, and all because they looked at you too long. You were his, why would anyone else think you were available. 

There he was, on live, racing with his team, when you came over with another can of redbull for him. He’d been focused on the game, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw a glimpse of his teammate, Luke’s stream. He saw him checking you out. 

He saw red. 

“Luke, do you need something or do you just like staring at my girlfriend?” he scoffed and you groaned. He wasn’t unknown to make scenes in public. 

“Max,” you groaned. “Please don’t.”

He rolled his eyes and settled for a kiss on the cheek while Luke just blushed. Max understood where he was coming from, you were fucking gorgeous. That still didn’t make it right though. 

Again, a little while later, he caught Luke staring at you as you sat in the back of his set up, watching the race silently. 

“Seriously Luke, do I need to turn off my camera or can you act like an adult and keep it in your pants?” He scoffed. “Het is onzin,”(it’s bullshit) he sighed.

“Max, calm down,” you pressed a kiss to his cheek, muting his mic. “Who gives a fuck about Luke?”

He groaned, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he admitted. 

“I’m a big girl, I’ll be alright,” you smiled, kissing him again. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he smiled, then went back to his racing, though he did push Luke off the track (in the game) a few (7) times. 

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Paul Aron: he trusts you. 

He sighed, watching Armaury place a hand on your waist. Was he losing you?

Then he smiled as he watched you shove him off, shouting in his face. You were a big girl, you could handle yourself. You didn’t always need Paul to come in and protect you, he loved that about you. He felt his sense of pride growing as you walked over, still shouting at his teammate who was looking increasingly guilty and uncomfortable, even more so when you ran over to Paul and kissed him right there and then, in front of everyone. 

Yeah, he really had nothing to worry about. 

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Lance Stroll: mf he is scary. 

Lance smirked as he watched James (a friend of his) wrap an arm around your waist as you danced with a couple friends. Your face screwed up into one of disgust, and you politely excused yourself to get another drink. James sauntered over to Lance, a smug smile on his face. 

“Might want to keep your lady on a tighter leash,” he smirked. 

“Oh yeah?” Lance cocked an eyebrow. 

“Yeah man, she was dancing all over me!” he chuckled. “Seriously, I’d steal if she wasn’t such a-”

“Don’t finish that sentence,” he told him, his tone dangerous. “My girlfriend is exactly that, my girlfriend. If you want to go dance with her and make her uncomfortable, that’s your prerogative, but don’t be surprised when I punch you for it.”

His ‘friend’ left quickly after that. He didn’t bother you again. 

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Jack Doohan: maybe a bit angry…

He scoffed as he watched Pierre try yet another pick-up line on you and he felt himself get even angrier. Yes, he was the new guy. Yes, he should definitely bite his tongue and suck it up. Did he do that? No…

He went over to you and wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your head as Pierre’s face fell into a frown. 

“Oh, you two are-!” He started.

“Together? Yeah. 3 years, right babe?” He smiled, a little too smiley for regular Jack.

“3 years, sounds right,” you nodded. “Nice to meet you Pierre,” you smiled before walking off, away from the two of them. Jack followed behind you and you sighed. “You’re an idiot.”

“It’s not my fault I have a hot girlfriend,” he defended. 

“It’s not my fault I’m the hot girlfriend!” You laughed. “Just… keep your jealousy to yourself in the future!”

He grabbed onto your waist a pleading look in his eye. “But you make it so hard…”

“Don’t give me ‘fuck me’ eyes right now Jack Doohan,” you scoffed, pushing him off. “You are such a child.”

He chuckled, happy with himself. 

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navigation for my blog :) (masterlist)

[riverageleis]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Stargate SG-1 Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Daniel Jackson/Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter/Daniel Jackson/Cameron Mitchell (Stargate) Characters: Sam Carter (Stargate), Daniel Jackson (Stargate), Jack O'Neill, Cameron Mitchell (Stargate), Original Characters, Maybe a dog or two Additional Tags: Polyamory, Demisexual Character, Internalized Homophobia, established poly relationship, New secondary relationship, Friends to Lovers Series: Part 3 of Best Friends Summary:

In the third part of the Best Friends series, Jack decides to ask Daniel out. Despite watching Daniel, Sam, and Cameron navigate a successful polyamorous relationship for several years, he's still unsure of the rules. After talking it over with Cam, Jack decides to give it a try with Daniel anyway.

With the help of Sam and Cameron, their biggest allies and cheerleaders, they will navigate Jack's insecurities and preconceived notions about what relationships are and how they should look. As they do, Daniel discovers that he's still got boundaries to test while on this journey, as well.

This is Jack/Daniel-centric story.

[enigmatic-mystery-777]

The look on Daniel's face in the last panel kills me every time 😭

[sadhours]

dirty laundry

billy hargrove x fem!reader

masterlist • requests open

cw: 18+ minors dni, established relationship, smut, public sex, swallowing c*m hehehe I missed billy

🧡🧡🧡🧡

it’s kind of fitting. after a weekend of partying, you had to do some laundry. so monday morning, 9 AM, you’re sitting in the laundromat beside your boyfriend. you’re hungover. billy smokes a Marlboro and the smell is making you nauseous. you’re nursing a sprite he’d bought you from the vending machine. he has a coke. you’re somewhat regretting not indulging in the breakfast beer billy offered you but the thought of the booze had made your stomach twist something wicked. the shitty speakers spill a tinny “dirty laundry” by don henley.

“this songs actually pretty badass,” billy mumbles around the butt of his smoke, tapping his scuffed motorcycle boots.

you frown, “i like don henley.”

your boyfriend laughs, it’s a loud bellow and you really wish you had that beer to dull the headache splitting your head. but you love his laugh.

“like him like you’d suck his dick or…?” he teases and you roll your eyes despite the way it pains you.

“no, not my type,” you grumble. “i like his music.”

there’s a liquor store two stores up. you keep rubbernecking out the window at it and your boyfriend picks up on it. he reaches over and squeezes your knee, “regretting not having a beer with me this morning?”

“a little,” you gripe, “the lights are too bright, your cigarette stinks and i’m so tired.”

billy leans close to you with a pout, eyebrows furrowed. he looks adorable, even though he’s condescending you. “want me to go get baby a shot and a beer?”

“would you?” you ask, all wide eyed in a silent beg you know gets him.

he smirks, leans forward and bites your nose. it pulls a giggle from you which is exactly what you need. “i’ll be back,” he grabs your face and squeezes it before pulling away and heading out the door, it chimes with his steps. you lean back and watch his ass saunter down the sidewalk in his too-tight Levi’s.

once he disappears into the liquor store, you bring your attention back to the washing machine. watching as your clothes spin in circles, which doesn’t do anything positive for the spinning happening in your gut so you look away quickly. billy’s hard to keep up with but you’ve never had so much fun in your life. and he’s so sweet, really, when he wants to be. you’d kind of saved him when you brought up him moving him after only a month of hooking up. you were shocked when he jumped at the opportunity but that was before you met neil. it makes sense now. your boyfriend is free to be himself, and you love every bit of him.

he’s quick in the liquor store, returning and hopping up on the row of unused washing machines opposite the chair you’re sitting in. he opens up the black plastic back and displays a little bottle of Jack Daniels.

“come get your hair of the dog, baby,” he says in a seductive voice, all low as he wiggles his eyebrows. you extend your hand and then his brows furrow, “I got you trained better than that. C’mere, girl.”

you exhale with a frustrated sigh but obey your sexy beyond belief boyfriend. standing up and taking the few short steps to situate yourself between his thighs.

“atta girl,” he purrs, opening the shooter and pressing it to your lips, “head back, foxy.”

you lean your head back, downing the shot in a quick three gulps. he hums, all satisfied as he watches. the whiskey isn’t sitting in your tummy the best but the way billy chases forward and licks a drip off your chin quells any sickness. he follows it with a filthy kiss, tongue dragging against yours as his right hand grabs the back of your head, knitting his fingers into the roots of your hair and tugs lightly. a helpless little whine escapes from your throat but billy swallows it, smiling into the dirty kiss. once he pulls away, he smirks, eyes darker than before.

“better?”

you nod, biting your lip as you look to him. billy retrieves the shooter he bought for himself and downs it easily, like it doesn’t make his stomach curl. then he hands you a tall can of beer, opens it for you before he does. you take an eager sip to get the bitterness of the whiskey off your tongue. billy chuckles, it’s deep and rattles his chest. he nudges his nose against yours, “i know that look.”

“s’your fault,” you mumble, cheeks hot as you admit, “‘cause you kissed me like that.”

billy hums, hooks his knuckle under your chin and tilts your head up a bit. “like this?” he whispers back before pressing his lips to yours hungrily. licks into your mouth like you’re not in public and has your spine tingling, thighs warm and cunt aching. you respond by kissing him back just as desperately, putting your beer down beside him before both your hands move to grip his white t-shirt. his mouth tastes like whiskey, cigarettes and Billy. You get lost in it, moaning pathetically as you make out like a couple of high school kids.

Then the dryer buzzes, loud and jarring. You pull away, groaning softly before strutting over to the machine. You open it, grabbing a cart and wheeling it over. You tug all the clothes into basket, reaching in deep and wiggling your ass because you can feel your boyfriends eyes on it. You don’t even realize he’s jumped off the washers and made his way behind you until he’s kicking the cart away and grabbing onto your hips.

“you missed something,” he tells you, all nonchalant.

“huh?” you peer inside the massive dryer but you don’t see anything. billy’s hips meet the fat of your ass, pushing your upper half deeper into the machine.

“it’s really in there,” he says, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your leggings. his other hand presses on the middle of your back, bending you over completely into the dryer. “almost there, you’re so close.”

you giggle, knowing exactly what you’re asshole of a boyfriend is doing. he pulls your leggings down to your thighs, moving his hand to rub your pussy through your underwear. you moan softly, still playing his game as you pretend to reach for the clothing he says in deep in there. billy’s impatient though, tugs your underwear down with your leggings. feels the slick collecting at your hole and hums, rubbing his fingers in circles at your entrance. his fingers are so thick, you can feel him stretching your hole just from the teasing. hangover suddenly forgotten, you’re spreading your legs and silently begging for him to slide inside you.

billy teases, “aw… keep reaching, baby… you’re almost there.”

his middle and ring finger slip inside your dripping cunt, the stretch delicious and intoxicating in their own right. he drags the pads of his fingers against your walls, pushing in and pulling out. your brains already fuzzy, eyes rolling back before your lids flutter shut. he laughs, soft and sultry as he fucks you with his fingers. out in the open. anyone can walk in here or hell, walk by and see your boyfriend bending you into the industrial dryer and fingering you senseless. the rush of it only make your cunt slicker.

he scissors his fingers, stretching your hole open wider as he smoothes his other hand over the expanse of your back.

“god, you’re so fucking wet,” billy exhales, his voice echoing slightly into the drum of the dryer. hits your ears something fierce. has you pushing your ass back at him. you moan out, nails dragging against the metal of the dryer as he finger fucks you open.

you don’t even hear the sound of his zipper or the shuffle of him pushing his jeans back. suddenly he’s pulling his fingers out and you feel the round, thick tip of his cock pushing at your pussy.

“fuck, billy,” you gasp, arching your back just slightly.

“atta girl,” he purrs, “so wet and desperate for my cock, yeah?”

“yeah— ah!” your response is hijacked by a moan, result of billy snapping his hips forward and completely sheathing his girthy cock in your fluttering hole.

he groans, a vibrating and sexy sound. let’s you know you feel so so so good for him. he doesn’t go slow, a hand on the small of your back and the other on your hip as he bullies his cock deep in your walls. billy always makes you feel like such a desperate slut. knows he can use and abuse your hole whenever and however. and how the fuck could you say no? the stretch is fucking unworldly. his cock is a goddamn masterpiece. crafted by the gods themselves to help please. if there ain’t nothing else to live for, billy’s cock is all you need.

once he’s inside you, you’re fucking gone. cockdrunk in a second. his hands move to knead at your ass as he pummels into you. rough and reckless. so billy. reality slips, you’re not even thinking about how the two of you are in a public place. fucking so filthy, so rough where there’s nowhere to hide. if you get caught, you get caught and you don’t fucking care. both so zoned in on getting off.

your hips slightly ache from where they bounce against the edge of the dryer but the sensation of Billy deep in your cunt dulls any pain. his cock pulsing as it drags in and out of your fluttering walls. you squeeze him, want him buried so deep and dirty.

“that’s it, slut,” he groans, voice deep as it bounces around the drum of the deeper, “taking my cock like a good girl.”

you whine back, not able to do much else. there’s no way you could form sensible thoughts. you ache to tell him how fucking good it feels but it’s useless, would fumble out of your mouth like word soup because billy fucks you stupid.

it’s a fucking joke when he moves his hand around your hip to rub at your clit. his goal is to get you to cum as quick as he can, because once those skilled fingers start strumming against your clit, your legs are shaking and your voice is uncontrollable in the moans bellowing from you.

“you gonna cum for me?” he chuckles, circles firm and quick against your clit, “so easy. such an easy slut for me, ain’t ya?”

“billy…” you cry in a plea, a whiny and pathetic sound. you’re on the edge, you can see it. each little stroke of his fingers and each drag of his cock against your tight walls threatens to toss you over it.

“ya wanna cum?” he spits, fingers working faster, “cream all over my cock, be a good slut for daddy.”

that sends you. a deep breath and sinking over the edge you go, crying out in absolute ecstasy as his cock works you overtime. drags your orgasm out with his fingers not letting up. you’re dead weight after, billy’s hands moving to your hips to hold you up as he barrels his cock faster and faster into your sensitive cunt. he pulls back rather quickly, grabbing your hair and pulling you out of the dryer.

“on your knees,” he instructs and you obey, hands on his thighs to steady you as you stick your tongue out flat. eyes wide and needy as you gaze up at your boyfriend. a curl has fallen into the center of his forehead, blue eyes dark with lust as he fingers move to grip his cock, jerking it in quick and firm strokes. “that’s it, good girl, yeah…”

he busts, spilling cum into your eager tongue. you love the taste of billy’s cum. abnormally sweet for a guy whose diet consists of booze and red meat. and when billy cums, he doesn’t close his eyes. he stares down at you, his lips part and you can see the swell of his tongue against his lower lip as he moans. you swallow, licking your lips so you don’t miss any.

he reaches for the back of your hand, scratching at the back of your scalp as he smiles warmly down at you. after a beat of lovingly looking at each other, you both get dressed. you plant a sloppy kiss on his lips before moving to transfer the load from the washer into the dryer. billy sits on the chairs and lights up another cigarette.

“you’re something else, foxy,” he grins, cheeks flushed all pretty.

[sanarsi]

Kinktober Day 6

Pregnancy

husband!Jack Daniels x wife!f!Reader

Gif credits @tennant

Summary: Jack finally made you carry his baby. The sight of you with your rounded belly makes him unable to get enough of you. Warnings: +18, MDNI, little bit of plot, loveee not sex, unprotected PIV (but reader’s already pregnant?¿), creampie, soft!hubby!Jack, morning sex Wordcount: 1,2k An: Hello hello darlings, I would like to announce that I am goin on vacation (yupiii). So I will be less active BUT all the shots on kinktober will be shared (they’re waitin in queue). Sending lots of love to my moots and the people who are with me during this extra slutty cool event <333

Masterlist and Kinktober Masterlist

Gentle kisses on your shoulder slowly woke you from your sleep. You purred, smiling lazily as a warm hand stroked your stomach.

"Good morning, beautiful."

Your husband's hoarse voice sent shivers down your spine, making you giggle quietly. His lips left a trail of kisses on your bare skin all the way to your neck.

You tilted your head to give him better access and stretched like a cat against his chest.

"Mmm, good morning," you mumbled sleepily.

He ran his nose next to your ear, making you wince and press yourself more tightly into his body.

"Stop it," you scolded him and glanced at him over your shoulder with amusement.

His radiant smile was one of your favorite sights in the morning.

"I can't."

He leaned in, pressing his lips gently to yours. The lazy kiss slowly woke you both up. His hand softly stroked your increasingly rounded belly.

You moaned with pleasure as his tongue gently touched yours. His movements were tender and careful. Ever since you got pregnant, he treated you like an egg, he did everything to make you feel safe and good in his arms.

He tried.

He was a wonderful husband and you knew he was going to be an even better father.

“How my girls feelin’ today?” he asked, nuzzling your nose and planting a kiss on your forehead. You covered his hand with yours, intertwining your fingers.

“Good,” you nodded, staring into his sparkling eyes. “She’s been calm for a few days now.”

“What a good girl, letting mommy rest so daddy can take care of her.”

His caressing words echoed in your heart.

You smiled wider, letting him know that today was a good day for sex and for months now, Jack had been taking advantage of every opportunity you gave him.

"Yeah?" he asked just to make sure.

You bit your lip and nodded, which only made him smile more before he connected your lips in a kiss again. You placed your hand on his cheek, trying to pull him closer.

He sighed contentedly, feeling the desire with which you responded to his movements. His hot body slowly heated yours as well, and his hand, which slowly began to slide over your hip, elicited the first moan. He responded in kind as allowed his fingers to gently curl around your ass.

In one movement, he pulled your hips closer, letting you feel just how hard he was for you. "Can we like this?" he whispered before his hand disappeared between your thighs.

You gasped loudly as you felt his fingers slide through your wet slit. For a moment, you surrendered fully to his touch, letting the waves of arousal moisten his fingertips even more.

"Mhm," you whimpered as he teased your clit in circular motions. He watched the signs of pleasure on your face as he slowly took his time with you.

With every move, he felt your sweet spot grow under his touch. Soft moans left your lips as you looked up at him with misty eyes. He loved this sight. He could watch you fall into a million pieces beneath him for hours, but since you had your sweet little girl inside of you, he was much more careful about it.

You started to leak as he steadily led you towards fulfillment but he knew when to stop to leave you thirsty. You didn't resist because you were so damn sensitive lately, sometimes a second orgasm was impossible to achieve and you knew, Jack loved it, when you came on his cock, so he left your pleasure for both of you.

Pulsing with desire, you waited for him to position himself at your entrance and moaned at the feeling of his tip. Your hips pushed against him the moment he began to enter you.

You both moaned as he slipped in completely in one movement thanks to you. Sometimes in moments like these, you remembered how much you missed rough sex, but then he began to move inside you, slowly and passionately, and all those thoughts disappeared.

“Oh fuck, baby,” he gasped, fingers tightening on your hip as he thrust into you. “You miss me?”

He began to press wet kisses to your neck, the sound of them mixing with the your wetness that accompanied his every move. You reached back and tangled your hand in his hair. His cock slowly worked inside you, hips colliding with your ass, and on top of it, all his gasps of pleasure that drove you mad.

"Yes," you moaned, feeling the pleasure build up between your legs and every time his tip teased your cervix, you whimpered with need.

„Doin so good f’ me, mama,” he whispered, feeling your body begin to tremble. He fucking loved how sensitive your pregnancy had made you. “Just a little longer.”

Your clit throbbed with each of his thrusts and he couldn’t help but moan as he felt you tighten around him. With his cock buried deep inside your wet core, he felt like a teenager.

He didn't know if it was because of the feminine energy you radiated or how beautiful you looked with your rounded belly, but he knew it was driving him crazy.

He had loved you forever, but ever since you had been carrying his daughter, he had been obsessed with you. Your moans were like gasoline poured on a fire for him. Your pussy became like a piece of heaven.

“Jack,” you whimpered, “too much.”

You had had enough and you hadn’t even come yet. He knew he had to hurry but couldn’t bring himself to do it when it felt so good inside you.

“I know baby,” he gasped and slowly moved his hand between your thighs. “But you can come for me, can you? I know you can.”

His fingers found your throbbing clit and began to tease it with gentle strokes. You moaned loudly, pressing harder into his chest, wanting to escape the too intense feeling of pleasure.

“Jack…”

“That’s right, mama, let go for me.”

You trembled under his touch. He synchronized the movements of his hand to his hips until your orgasm became a matter of seconds. Your moans mixed with his as he chased his peak with you until you finally came, pulsating on him so intensely that you pulled him with you.

You cried as you felt the orgasm take over your body and Jack hugged you tighter to his chest, coming deep inside you himself. Your heart was pounding in your chest as you tried to calm your breathing.

You felt reborn but helpless at the same time and he felt it very well, snuggling up to your back, he started to place kisses on your shoulder.

"Nap?" he asked, nuzzling your ear.

You snorted quietly at his suggestion despite feeling tired. "We just woke up," you noticed, glancing at him over your shoulder.

He was so damn handsome with a look of fulfillment on his face.

"I know but it's always a good time for a nap." He gave you one of those boyish smiles that quickly melted your heart.

You rolled your eyes with a smile and immediately received a kiss on the cheek from him in response before you both settled back down comfortably, snuggling up to each other.

Tags: @mattmurdocksdumpy @milly-louise @rosi3ba3z @candlelover @gothcsz @tateypots @chloe302225 @natalieispunk @amyispxnk @mandoloriancookie @libre-sol @alex-does-art-things @xxchumanixx @ch3rryyyyyyyyyy @bbyanarchist @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 @ilovejoel-andjavi @uncassettodiricordi @puddles221b

[starry-bi-sky]

"Stillborn? No, no, still born." -- DPXDC AU

Based off a comment I saw where Bruce knew about Talia's pregnancy in the earlier comivs, and was ecstatic to be a father. So much so that Talia feared he'd give up being Batman for it, so when she gave birth she put the baby (Damian) on a doorstep and (seemingly) told Bruce that the baby was stillborn.

Instead of Damian, that baby was Danny! Meet Daniel Brown, the 14 year old foster kid whose been living with the Fenton family for the last two years. He's about two years older than Damian.

His last name, "Brown", was a generic surname given to him because the note he came with didn't have one on it. It just had the name "Danyal" on it, but albeit 'Daniel' was the one that had been put into the system for, I'll be totally frank here, racism reasons.

(I looked it up to make sure, and it's generally not permissible for foster parents to change the names of their foster kids even if it's a permanent residency, and for that reason Danny doesn't have the last name "Fenton".)

Danny's got ✨~issues!~✨ He's been through a handful of homes growing up, most of them terrible for a variety of reasons. Which has, as a result, left lasting scars. He's generally a very sweet kid, just very distrustful and jumpy. He's got the signs of a kid suffering from PTSD, and a handful of other issues including attachment and insomnia. His inferiority complex could rival Damian's, and that's going to make for an interesting mutual hatred for when they finally meet.

(something I'll get into later)

He still has the blanket he was found in. It's made of a very high quality material and is a beautiful emerald green with little golden thread accents, it's high quality as a result has Danny clinging onto a desperate hope that his bio family might be out there, and the only reason they gave him up was because of some outside factor. It's been taken a few times in old foster homes, and he's flipped out each time.

While he still calls Jack and Maddie by their names, he likes them well enough. The bar isn't that high though, and while they're some of the better foster parents he's had, "better" doesn't equal "safest". Their laboratory malpractice. Basically, C- Fenton Parents. They're negligent by virtue of being engrossed in their work, but they do care equally about Jazz and Danny. So he doesn't hold it against them that much.

He kinda prefers it that way, their loud affection is overwhelming and Danny doesn't know what to do with their attention, even if he craves it. It's a bit of a complicated situation.

They took in Danny because they genuinely wanted another child, but didn't want a big age gap between them and Jazz. It was actually Jack's idea to foster, and they discussed it with Jazz beforehand. She was all for the idea. Thus, a handful of weeks later, a ton of paperwork, and inspection later, and Daniel Brown entered their household with a trash bag in one hand and eyes like shards of stained glass.

His relationship with Jazz is kinda strained, but that's by virtue of her constant psychoanalyzing and helicoptering. Like with the parents, Danny's overwhelmed by the attention and also just, straight up doesn't like the fact that she's telling him that there's something wrong with him. He knows that, thank you. He pushes her away when she does this.

Other than that though? When Jazz isn't smothering him and is acting like an actual sibling and not a third parent, they're pretty close, and Danny really likes her. They've hung out a few times on their own volition, and Jazz showed him how to take better care of his long hair.

His school situation,, pretty similar to canon with the bullying, albeit with a few more instances of him blowing a fuse and lashing out against his attackers. He's a rather angry kid, but it's quiet. It builds up, piles on top of itself, until eventually, like a volcano, it erupts and burns everyone within radius.

Danny's got a fire core, not an ice core. Phantom's hair is made of white magma; thick and heavy, setting itself on fire when his anger runs hot. When he gets angry, his skin begins to char and split open to reveal pulsating lava underneath, and he crackles and pops like a raging forest fire.

I haven't decided yet on how he meets the batfam -- i've got two ideas but they're both in opposition to each other, and drastically alter how the rest of the plot goes. But I do know that him and Damian hate each other in the beginning. And it has nothing to do with inheritance or "being the blood son" -- although their blood relation absolutely plays the major role in their disdain for each other.

Simply put, they're jealous of each other for the same thing: thinking that the other was wanted.

Damian hates Danny because, unlike Damian, Bruce knew about Danny since conception and wanted him from the moment he heard about him. He had a whole nursery set up, and still does. He never took it down -- just locked the door. Damian was thrust upon Bruce without warning, and he feels like he forced himself into the family. And while on some level Damian knows and understands that Bruce wants him and loves him as much as his other children, that doubt and feeling of inferiority still remains. He looks at Danny and sees him with what Damian always feels he needs reaffirmed.

Meanwhile, Danny hates Damian because he looks at him and sees him with everything Danny's ever wanted. He hates him because Damian grew up knowing both of their parents, with one of them for most of his life, and then moved over to the other. There was never a moment where Damian was (seemingly) left to doubt his place within the family. Damian was raised with the very same woman who left Danny on a doorstep, with no clue to his identity beyond a little green blanket and a note with only a first name. Damian was wanted everywhere, and Danny was wanted nowhere. Damian is Danny's replacement in his eyes.

(It's the little revelation that Damian grew up with their mother that elevates Danny from being quietly envious of Damian to downright despising him. What did Damian do, that Danny didn't? He could live with Damian living with Bruce -- Bruce didn't know Danny was even alive. But him living with their mom? Are you fucking kidding him?)

Damian never outright attacks Danny physically, but it's not like he hides that he didn't like Danny. Meanwhile, Danny, in all his repressive anger, quietly despised him from a distance until finally one wrong snide side-comment has him blowing up and it becomes a screaming match. They're both just enough similar to each other that when they look at each other they really just see a mirror.

They'll work it out together, eventually. But it'll be ugly and cruel and explosive, and they'll start mending the bridge to become brothers in more than just blood relation in the end.

But yeah, stillborn Danny has... a lot going for him.

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader[4.3K] loosely based on the movie float, lifeguard!steve, a summer full of swim lessons. mentions of drowning, eventual smut 18+

SWIM LESSON SCHEDULE

LESSON #2

[Six Months Before]

Steve Harrington was standing in Tammy Thompson’s backyard, bumping his knuckles against Eddie’s as the boy approached with a bottle of Jack Daniel’s in his hand.

Eddie had dragged you out, brown eyes pleading as per, promising he’d score big at this party and he’d definitely buy you a burger and shake with his takings on the way home. Midnight, he’d said, swear it, he’d said. But the clock in Tammy’s moms kitchen was ticking towards one o’clock and when Eddie spotted Steve - and Jonathan Byers - out by the pool, you’d made the decision to hang back.

They were too close to the water, the lagoon shaped pool lit up in the night by an underwater glow, yellow-white spotlights that made sure you could see just how deep it was. There were some girls hanging close by, dresses and skirts rucked up their thighs and their shoes long lost as they dipped their legs into the bright blue water, pink lips around cherry vodka bottles and their eyes on the boys - a potential ride home in more ways than one.

“M’not gonna let you just fall into the pool,” Eddie had frowned when you’d told him you’d wait inside. “Who even does that anyway? You’re not wasted enough for that sweetheart.”

And you weren’t. Barely tipsy, actually. 

But the pool took up most of the patio space and other people were drunk, stumbling around the yard and trying to dance to the music that came from the open kitchen door. The water was too much, too deep, too blue, too dark.

And Steve Harrington was too pretty and intimidating - but you didn’t tell Eddie that part.

Jonathan spotted you over Eddie’s shoulder and waved, smiling kindly before he said something that made Eddie’s eyes light up with excitement. And that was okay because Jonathan was quiet and sweet and always polite to you, commenting on the books he’d see you reading when he passed you in town and sometimes he’d bump into you during Eddie’s hellfire meetings, passing as he picked up his little brother.

Steve, you didn’t see as much. Only from afar, usually. He was quieter than he’d been in high school, crownless and a little softer around the edges than when you sat two rows behind him in Mrs Click’s class. But Robin had a lot of things to say about him, gentle ribbing that was always wrapped in a fondness anyone with eyes could see and for a while, you thought that maybe they were a thing until Robin had vehemently told you that they were everything but.

Platonic with a capital P, she’d told you, popping the last letter and hiding the burn in her cheeks. 

But still, you knew he gave her rides to work before he drove himself to the pool, acting oblivious and almost uncomfortable when the hoards of freshman girls made a point to pick the loungers closest to the lifeguard tower. 

Not that you’d ever seen such a thing. But Robin liked to poke fun and Eddie was a bigger gossip than the cheerleader he used to date during his sophomore year. 

So really, you had once mused, there wasn’t really any reason to be so avoidant of Steve Harrington now. Except, once you finally admitted to yourself you had an awfully bad crush on him, that was excuse enough. He would nod and smile politely at you when he ran into you and Eddie around town, at the mall, in the crowds at parties. And on good days, you’d smile back, lips thin and tight in an overly polite grimace of some sort but neither of you attempted to make conversation with each other. Any awkward silences were filled by your mutual friend, Eddie talking loudly and animatedly about whatever topic came to mind, his curls and his laugh both big enough to patch over any uncomfortable silences.

So when a few minutes passed with you staring into your drink, watching the ice cubes melt into whatever concoction Eddie had handed you, you didn’t expect Steve to appear beside you. He was busying himself with the stack of beers on the kitchen counter beside you, but he cleared his throat all the same, unsure about it as he gained your attention. But he was looking at you, purposeful, as if his elbow softly knocking yours wasn’t an accident. 

His gaze was still holding yours as he popped the cap off of a bottle of bud light lime, the cap hitting the floor. You blinked at him, eyes only straying for a second to see that Eddie was still out by the pool talking to Johnathan and some other guy you didn’t know. Brows furrowed, you turned back, lips parting to ask if everything was okay, because why else would Steve Harrington be looking at you. 

But then he was talking, smiling sweet and kind and holding a little of that confidence you knew back in school. It was still there, that self assurance that he had years ago, but it was muted, a boldness that wasn’t quite dimmed but definitely softened. It made him seem even more intimidating, prettier with his messier hair and scruff along his jaw, his clothes less tight and pressed. 

“You doin’ okay?” 

You blinked again, wondering if he really was talking to you. But there was no one else around and you gripped your cup a little tighter, nodding before you could make a fool of yourself. “Me? Yeah. Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

Steve shrugged, smiling as he took a sip from his beer and he gestured out to the patio, to the pool and to Eddie who was grinning at you. “Just wondered why you weren’t coming out, that’s all. You’re normally glued to Munson.”

You scrunched your nose, cheeks warming because he wasn’t wrong, but the reminder of how close you usually stuck to Eddie made you feel younger, childlike. 

“It’s not like… that,” you explained, although you weren’t sure why you were bothering. “Us. Eddie and I- it’s not like we’re together, or anything.” You immediately regretted your words, the explanation feeling thick and clumsy on your tongue and your neck was burning, heat creeping up along your jaw.

Steve was still smiling, grin hid behind his beer and his brows were raised. He looked amused, nodding as you stumbled around each word and when you frowned, gulping down your watery cranberry and vodka, he grinned wider. “Yeah, no-- I know,” Steve assured you. He shrugged, “still, thanks for the clarification. S’good to know.”

You never found out what he meant by that, if he was being funny or just friendly, if he was flirting and genuinely interested. A neighbour called the cops and Eddie grabbed you before they could come through the front door, boosting you up by the foot so you could both scramble over the back fence. Steve had left with Jonathan and his girlfriend Nancy, the three of them running to Steve’s car just as Chief Hopper started yelling at the drunk kids left behind and you hadn’t so much as glanced back at each other for fear of being dragged home in the back of a cop car. 

The next time you’d spent any real time with Steve Harrington, well. You’d been sinking to the bottom of the lake.  

You were standing by the closed gate of the community pool at seven am sharp, the obnoxiously large lock stopping you from entering - despite the rip in the chain link fence to your right. 

You weren’t waiting long, even though you would’ve happily stayed on the other side of the lot for as long as required. The air was already warming, the scent of chlorine and leftover sunscreen surrounding you, mixing with the sound of the cicadas, the early morning sprinklers from the houses across the road. Then Steve was jogging towards you, one big hand clutching a rolled up towel and a set of keys and his cheeks were pink from his efforts, his sliders slapping on the concrete and he looked apologetic as he approached. 

“M’really sorry, car had a flat,” he huffed. “Would’ve left earlier if I knew I was walking.”

It was harder to look him in the eye after last week. Once the initial fear that had a vice grip on you loosened - if only slightly - it was easier to become so aware of how close you’d been to Steve. A whole morning spent half clothed and wet, his hands on you at all times, gentle and guiding as he coaxed you to walk around the shallow end of the pool. He’d been nothing but a gentleman about it, professional at all times with his hands either in yours or bracing your arms, never straying anywhere they shouldn’t, even if you’d caught his eyes going just that, maybe once or twice. 

You pulled at the collar of your t-shirt as Steve busied himself with the padlock, the air so much stickier now that he was close by. “It’s okay,” you told him. “I’m not in a rush.”

Steve snorted and it shouldn’t have been an attractive sound as it was. His eyes crinkled in amusement, mirth in them as he glanced down at you from under his lashes. He still looked soft from bed, hair mussed and a five o’clock shadow across his jaw that suited him too well. His lifeguard shirt was sunbleached and threadbare, the red shorts he wore smaller than his last pair, the material well above his knees. He was more sunkissed than last weekend, freckles on the bridge of his nose, cheeks stained a permanent blush. 

“Was your first lesson that bad?” He asked.

You burned, not knowing what to say, not wanting to offend him, not when he was looking at you like that. 

“No,” you squirmed. The lock was open now but neither of you moved. “I mean, yeah, but not— not as bad as I thought. It was okay.”

Steve  grinned like he knew something you didn’t, nodding slowly as he held the gate for you. “It was okay,” he repeated back, “I’ll take it.”

The pool was as blue and as intimidating as the first week, the generator humming and the filter trickling softly as you walked around it, giving the edge a wide berth. If Steve saw you frown and the dark blue depths, he didn’t say anything. Instead, you both dropped your towels and bags on a lounger and the boy didn’t so much as blush as he stripped off his shirt, throwing it alongside everything else. 

“You wanna get changed?” He asked, already busying himself with pulling some floats out of a shelving unit. “I’ll get everything sorted and you can—”

You were stripping off your own shirt before Steve could finish his sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as you revealed the same old black swimsuit underneath your clothes. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t seen already, but you couldn’t help but feel flustered as you popped the button of your shorts, the denim dragging down your hips. You didn’t look at him as they slid off your legs, your feet clumsy as you tried to toe off your sneakers and step out of your shorts all at once. 

Steve was pink, even if you didn’t see it, his whole body turning from you abruptly as he decided what else he might need to take from storage. A pool noodle fell to the floor as you bundled up your clothes and chucked them onto the chair, both of you decidedly not looking at each. 

“Uh, right.” Steve dragged a hand through his hair, the soft ends immediately falling back across his forehead. He looked like he’d already caught most of the morning’s sun as he finally glanced at you, the tips of his ears a little pink. “Let's get started.”

—————

Your arms were crossed over your chest as you stood waist deep in the pool, partly for a little cleavage cover, mostly because you were cold. Your skin had prickled as you entered the water the same way as last time, step by step into the shallows, with Steve by your side. He didn’t hold your hands, but one of his hovered by your elbow the whole way down, ready to catch you if you stumbled, if you felt less than brave. 

He murmured soft encouragement the whole way down, a new praise falling from his lips at each stair and when you made it onto the pool floor, he’d grinned. 

“Look at you go, we’ll have you swimming lengths in no time.”

You couldn’t work out if he was joking or not, and the idea of going to the other end of the pool was enough to make your stomach churn, the lucky charms you’d shovelled into your mouth before leaving turning acidic. Still, you grinned - grimaced, maybe - and made a strange noise at the back of your throat. Steve thought it was supposed to be a laugh. 

“Ha— yeah, sure, maybe in a while.”

So Steve just smiled and left it at that. Then he was wading a little deeper, the water moving from his upper thighs and soaking his shorts, the cherry red turning scarlet, a deeper colour that you couldn’t help but stare at and then the pool swallowed his lower body, the ripples catching around his hip bones. 

He was facing you as he moved, arms out and hands coaxing, encouraging you to follow and when he saw the look of panic in your face, he stopped walking. “Hey, hey,” his voice was soft, just like the morning. It was all hazy skies, a blue-lavender fuzz and the trickle of water, the smell of chlorine and sunscreen and Steve Harrington’s wide, brown eyes. “Look, yeah? We’re not going any deeper than this, I promise. ‘N I’m right here.”

You remembered how you told him you trusted him, just seven days ago. How he’d told you in return that he’d come get you, just like he had before. It felt rude to question the man who’d once saved your life but still, you hesitated, arms still curled around your chest like you could anchor yourself to that spot. 

But then Steve held out his hand, palm up and resting on top of the surface. The blue of the pool made his skin look even more tanned, sunkissed and glittering with droplets of water, beads of it sliding off of his forearm, pooling in the middle of his hand. He wiggled his fingers at you. 

You didn’t even know you were reaching out to him until his hand curled around yours, bigger and wider and warmer despite the way you were still adjusting to the colder temperature. The sticky heat of the morning air didn’t do much for the large pool, the water still nipping at your skin as you moved through it. 

“There you go,” Steve praised, smiling wide and earnest as you took a step. “There she is, ladies and gents, Hawkins next high diver—”

You scoffed, eyes rolling and cheeks sore when you grinned, unable to help it. But you were still moving, baby steps towards Steve and the gasp that left your lips as the water crept up towards the line of your belly button was due more to the cold than the depth. 

Steve held your hand tightly, a solid grip, your own kind of anchor. 

“Alright, see?” He was beaming, eyes squinting through the rays of the sun that bounced off the surface and he was too pretty with it, painted in the reflections of the ripples and stripes of rainbow. “You did it, you’re killing this.”

You didn’t point out that you hadn’t technically done any real swimming yet, but the fact you were standing further into the pool than you were seven days ago felt momentous. Eddie had spent countless summers trying to even coax you inside the property line, sunscreen smeared on his nose and pleading in his eyes. 

“You still trust me?” Steve asked, eyes bright and earnest and god, it was impossible to say no. So you nodded, throat feeling a little thick and the words lost behind your teeth but you did and you meant it. And that only made Steve smile wider. “Good. We’re gonna practice floating, okay?”

The idea of it made your chest feel heavy, a sure fire sign that it wasn’t going to go as well as Steve had planned. Letting the water take control of your weight seemed impossible and the task of taking your feet off of the solid tiles at the bottom of the pool was nightmare inducing. But Steve was moving closer, his hand still in yours and his free one grazing your spine. His fingertips skimmed over your back, guiding you in front of him and turning you to the side as he spoke the whole time. 

“It’s easy, right?” He explained, your shoulder brushing his bare chest and you tried not to think about it all too much, tried not to panic despite the way your heart was thundering so hard it was a wonder Steve couldn’t hear your ribs rattle and crack. “M’gonna help, I won’t let you go, I promise. You just gotta let yourself lie back, just a little. I’ll help you do the rest.”

You laughed at him, his words, his positivity that was brighter and warmer than the whole of June and July. It was a gasping, mocking thing, a laugh that got stuck in your throat and the mere suggestion of letting your body fall backwards into the pool was enough to make your eyes dart for the safety of the stairs. 

“I— I can’t. I can’t do that,” you told him, eyes wide and head shaking furiously. “That’s just— no. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Maybe you tried to move away, to take a step towards the shallow edge of the pool, or maybe you only imagined you did. Because Steve’s hand was flat against the curve of your back and his palm nearly took up the whole god damn space there. His fingers curled around your own, his thumb running over the bumps of your knuckles. Steve bent a little, knees folding under the water to bring his face down level with your own and he looked so serious when he said: 

“Hey, listen, alright? I know it’s scary. But I promise you, I won’t let you go. You’re not going to go under.” He licked his lips, eyes searching yours for signs of panic, fear, flight. “I won’t let you go under the water, I swear.”

So you stayed, rooted to the spot but there nonetheless. And with a jerky nod, Steve’s hand squeezed your own and he moved into you. You felt his knees bump under your thighs, rough with coarse hair and lined with more muscle than you had, his hips bumping against the side of you. Suddenly the water didn’t feel as cold as before, the sharp chill of it gone. 

“I just want your to bend your legs, okay? Just a little and then let your feet come up. M’gonna support your back. And remember, you can stand here, yeah? S’not deep, you can stand right back up.”

You mumbled something, confirmation maybe, a curse perhaps, aimed at Steve or Eddie, you weren’t sure. You about your friend who was probably still in his bed, face down and oblivious to the situation he’d once again coaxed you into. But you also remembered how he’d been knee deep in the lake as Steve pulled you out, eyes wide and terrified as he prepared to throw himself into the black water to find you too. 

You lifted one foot, a mere stretch onto your toes, really, but Steve hummed in approval and his hand pressed into your back a little more, a silent promise that he was still there to catch you. 

One foot came off of the pool floor. 

“Thatta’ girl,” Steve whispered and he was close. So close, close enough for the words to feel warm against your temple and you could feel his gaze on the side of your face, watching, waiting. “I’ve got you.”

Another foot came off the tiles. 

You dipped, just a little, just for a second, your shoulders submerging and a shocked gasp ripping from the back of your throat before Steve’s hand on your back was pushing you upwards. You tried to fight it, legs kicking awkwardly until Steve was pushing you again, upupup, and your body broke out of the water, shoulders and back and butt flat against the top of the surface. 

“Keep your legs out straight,” Steve instructed, “let me take your weight, breathe in and out, keep calm.”

It all seemed too much to do at once. 

Your hand was a vice grip around Steve’s, but he didn’t seem to mind. He was watching you, gaze studious and gentle, nodding almost to himself as you tried to do as he told you. Your legs straightened out and stopped kicking, the warm air kissing your shins above the water, your chest shuddering as you sucked in a breath. 

“Uhuh, that’s it. Now just lie back for me, s’alright, I’ve got all of you.”

You choked out a laugh, a cynical sound and Steve’s eyes found yours. You were shaking slightly as you tried to relax, trying to drop your shoulders back into the water. “All of me? You been hitting the gym, Harrington?”

The joke was weak sounding, especially when your lip wobbled too but Steve grinned all the same. The hand on your back moved down a little, settling in the curve there, just above your ass. 

“Thanks for noticing,” he replied softly, a teasing lilt to his voice, a smirk in his smile. “Eddie never compliments me.”

You laughed again, louder this time but just as harsh sounding as before. The water was filling your ears as you lay back, a cold rush to the back of your head and neck as you finally flattened yourself out. 

“What a shit friend,” you managed to choke back. 

Steve let go of your hand with a soft murmur of assurance, quickly placing it beside his other one, both palms supporting your frame. His touch was a delicate thing, the width of each hand encasing your back, keeping you afloat. He was the warmest thing in the water. 

“Right?” Steve whispered, afraid to break the quiet, the spell that you were under. Your eyes were wide and on the sky as you lay there, watching the blue and the pink coloured clouds that were making their way over town. “You’re gonna have to have words with him.”

You nodded before realising the movement made your chin dip, your balance wavering. Your arms that had been floating at your sides tried to claw at something, anything, for purchase but found none and fear seized at your chest again. 

“You’re okay,” Steve told you. “Another deep breath in— there you go. Now, keep your chest and tummy pushed out, okay? Keep it all above the surface, chin up, legs straight, you got it.”

And you did, kinda. The panic that made your chest tight loosened its grip as you let out the breath you’d been holding onto so fiercely. Your legs felt lighter once you stopped fighting the drag of them, your arms floating out to your sides, the back of your right hand brushing Steve’s stomach and you felt the muscles in his abdomen tense. But your eyes were fluttering, lashes blinking against your cheeks as you just let yourself be, your body floating, the cool water lapping at your neck, your face. 

Steve’s hands were sure and steady on your back, never leaving or faltering. In fact they steered you away from the wall and kept you pushed to the surface, gently guiding and encouraging. They made your body feel warmer than the water did, the sun on your front, a dry heat that shone over your face and chest, rainbow spots in your vision and his palms were just as hot under the water. 

He murmured nonsense as he let you balance on his fingertips, always encouraging and soft, pretty praises that made your toes curl into the pool and when he saw the way you trusted him, the way you let him hold you, he stopped talking altogether. 

It was just you and Steve and the water under the sun. 

Fingers danced a line along your spine, one set between your shoulder blades, the other holding you up from the small of your back and it was a shockingly intimate touch, especially when his skin found your own between the straps of your bathing suit. 

Something told you that it would be a bad idea to open your eyes, but Eddie told you bad ideas had good outcomes all of the time. So you did just that, blinking against the sun that was rising as the morning moved on, the sky turning bluer and brighter, but not nearly as warm as Steve’s gaze. 

He was looking down at you, his knees still bent and the water lapping at his chest, his face much closer than you realised. He was smiling, a soft thing that made your heart thunder loud enough to travel through the water, a steady drumbeat in your ears. And when the boy realised you were looking too, his cheeks turned that pretty pink colour, a cotton candy blush that you couldn’t help but stare at and he nodded, clearing his throat before he spoke. 

“You’re doin’ great.”

The water filter trickled somewhere in the background, the sound of someone’s car door slamming in the distance. Apart from that, it was just Steve’s voice over your drum kit of a heart. It took a while for you to nod, water slipping over your chin and lips, tongue licking away chlorine. 

“I’ve got a really good teacher,” you replied.