#those baby cow eyes are everything to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

boyfriendstevie · 1 year ago

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lavender haze

unable to sleep, and having to share a bed with steve isn't exactly ideal, especially when you're in love with him... and you're not sure if he feels the same way | 4.2k, f!reader, friends to lovers, there's only one bed!!!, lots of feelings and fluff, fingering, unprotected piv | 18+ only!!! mdni!!!

You’ve been awake for hours. Days, even. Okay, that’s not physically possible, but that’s what it feels like, lying awake on your side, staring at the wall. You can feel Steve’s warmth behind you, and you know if you scoot back even a few inches, your back will be against his. In a cruel twist of fate, you’ve ended up in the same bed as your friend and not-so-secret crush. This would be a perfect scene in a romcom, but this is your real life, and it’s pretty much agonizing.

A sigh escapes your lips, a little louder than you mean to, and you grimace as Steve shifts slightly next to you, but he stays quiet. You hold your breath for a moment longer, and then shift onto your back, pulling the blankets up higher. You sigh again, staring up at the ceiling after you drag your hands down your face. It’s silent for another minute, and then suddenly, Steve’s speaking. His voice is just above a whisper, and yet it feels deafening in the silence of your room, “Can’t sleep?”

You shake your head against your pillow even though he can’t see it, and reply quietly, “Not at all. Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you—“

Instead of replying, the bed creaks beside you as Steve turns over, too, flat on his back, “Nah, haven’t been able to sleep either.” The bed is small enough that his arm brushes yours now, warm and soft under the sheets. You glance over at him, eyes tracing the slope of his nose in the dark of the room.

“‘M sorry,” you sigh, “didn’t realize there’d only be one bed, and—”

Steve’s quick to roll onto his side, facing you. He props himself up on his hand to get a better look at you as he shakes his head, “C’mon now, none of that, babe. ‘S not your fault, and I don’t mind. Could be worse. Could be sharing a room with Eddie. Ugh, or Dustin.”

You laugh a little at that, lips quirking up as you turn to look at Steve. Your breath catches in your throat when you realize just how close he is, his face only inches from yours in the small space. If you wanted, you could count all of his moles and freckles, every single one of his eyelashes. Somehow, you manage to breathe out, “Yeah?”

“Totally,” Steve nods seriously, “Neither of them are all that pretty, either. Well, Eddie’s got that hair and those big, brown, baby cow eyes, but I’ve got my eye on someone else.”

You want to laugh at his joke, but the last part doesn’t feel all that funny with the way he’s looking at you, eyes all soft. Your fingers play at the edge of the blanket, eyes darting back to the ceiling as you ask, “You do?”

“Mhm. Kinda why I can’t sleep. ‘S hard when they’re laying next to you but you can’t even touch them,” he’s quiet, voice laced with nerves in a way you’re not sure you’ve heard from him before.

Your heartbeat quickens at his confession, and you glance over at him, eyes wide. You turn onto your side to face him, the space between you even smaller, and search his eyes. He seems serious. Genuine. It’s hard to believe that he might feel the same way you do, but you want him more than anything, so you whisper, “Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Kiss me? Ple—“

He leans in and cuts you off with a kiss, not needing to be asked twice. For as quickly as he reacts, it’s a gentle kiss. Soft, and definitely not hesitant, but shy. It’s even better than you imagined. He kisses you like he’s been waiting to do it forever, lips slotting against yours perfectly. His nose nudges into yours, and his hands creep towards you, one settling against the curve of your hip.

Steve pulls away with a heavy breath, hands almost twitching at your sides as he looks at you, searching your face for an answer. His voice is quiet, like he’s worried if he speaks too loud he’ll ruin everything, “Can I… can I touch you? Y-you can say no, I’ll stop if you want, I just—“

You nod a bit too quickly, desperate to have him closer, “Please. You can touch me. However you want, I don’t mind.” Your admission — the implication behind it — has you flushed, and you want to hide, but he doesn’t give you a chance as one hand cradles your jaw, the other slipping just underneath the hem of your big sleep shirt.

His hand is warm on your cheek, and he’s gentle with you as he tilts your chin up to meet his lips in another kiss. The kiss itself is a little less gentle, a little more purposeful as he nips at your bottom lip, pulling a gasp from you. The hand under your shirt feels even hotter than the one on your cheek, a searing warmth on your skin, curling over your side, pulling your chest to his.

One of your hands presses into Steve’s chest as you kiss, the other finding its way to his hair. As his kisses move from your lips to your jaw, you tilt your head back and murmur, “You know, I’ve heard— oh— ‘ve heard orgasms help… help to fall asleep.”

“Yeah?” Steve asks, a quiet laugh muffled against your skin, “We could always try…”

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding quickly, your fingers twisting into the strands of his hair as he sucks a mark onto your delicate skin, “if you want—“

“Well, we both need the sleep…” he trails off again. You’re both being hesitant about it. You know that if you do this, things will probably change in your friendship, but you’re not sure you can find it in yourself to really care. You want him and you want him to know it, so you reach for the hand on your side and pull on his wrist until his palm is on your rib cage, just underneath your breast.

Steve takes the hint and swears under his breath as he cups your breast, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers until it peaks under his touch. Your back arches, chest pushing into his as you let out a whiny breath. You can feel his smile against your neck as he murmurs, “Got such pretty tits, babe, fuck.”

“You… you can’t even see them,” you , even though you’re barely holding it together.

“Can I see them?” he asks, only half joking. But you pull back anyway, watching as his eyes go wide as you tug your shirt over your head. Steve reaches out again to touch you, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, “Christ, baby. I was totally right. Prettiest tits ‘ve ever seen.”

You desperately hope he can’t tell how flustered you are from his praise, instead turning your attention to his own shirt, pushing the soft, worn hem up his torso, “Your turn, handsome.”

“Y’think ‘m handsome?” he asks, muffled as he pulls his shirt over his head, tossing it towards the end of the bed.

“Is that not obvious?” you ask, giving him a pointed look as you as you scoot back in towards him, hips pressing to his as your hands roam up his sides.

“N-not ‘til r-right now—“ Steve stutters at the feeling of your body against his, your hands on his chest, his hips rolling into yours. It pulls a quiet moan out of you, and he decides he can’t wait any more, finally pushing his hand down your tummy towards the waistband of your pajama shorts. He pauses, eyes flicking up to yours in the darkness until you nod. It’s all he needs to slip his hand into your panties.

Steve groans as his fingers find your wetness, dipping between your folds to collect your slick, “Shit, babe. So wet for me. You do think I’m handsome, huh?”

Before you can answer his jest with your own teasing, Steve presses a finger inside of you, drawing a sharp whine from you as it curls. His are much thicker than your own, and longer, too. Your hands scramble to find purchase on something, anything, and settle for grasping at Steve’s shoulders, nails leaving half-moon shapes in his tanned skin.

Your hips roll against Steve’s hand, silently begging for more, and he gives it to you without question, a second finger joining his first. There’s a dull ache as his fingers scissor apart inside of you, pressing deep in search of the spot that will make you fall apart. His fingers fuck in and out of you slowly, the dirty sound of your wetness muffled by the sheets and the soft noises you’re making, “Ah, Steve—“

“‘S good?” he asks quietly, seemingly a genuine question as his eyes search your face for an answer.

He finds his answer when you nod emphatically, eyes screwed shut, and whine, “More. Please, need more.”

Steve’s thumb finds your clit after a moment, slow and deliberate circles that are driving you insane in the best way. It’s like he’s exploring your body more than anything, familiarizing himself with you, figuring out what you like. He manages to find the spot that makes you feel weak, and doubles down when your lips part with another choked moan.

Somehow, he seems to know your body like the back of his hand. He knows just when you’re about to cum, and pulls his hand away, leaving your cunt clenching around nothing as you whine pathetically, “Steve!”

You can feel the tip of his nose rubbing against the skin just under your jaw, the curve of his lips against the pulse point on your neck, and you know he can probably feel the way your heart is beating wildly. He huffs a laugh, a small puff of air that makes goosebumps prickle your skin. It’s not a mean laugh, more so teasing, maybe a little sympathetic as he murmurs, “Sorry, sorry. Just— just want to be inside you. Can I?”

“Oh, fuck— yes, yeah. Want you.”

Steve’s breath catches at that, like he hadn’t been expecting you to say yes, and scrambles backwards so he has enough room to remove his remaining clothes. He sucks in a breath hard as he stumbles over his next question, “Shit, really? I mean— I don’t have any condoms, I just— you can say no, I won’t—“

Before he can talk himself out of it, you wiggle your hands out of the comforter so you can cup his jaw in them, tilting his chin until his gaze catches yours. Your heart is still beating out of your chest, but god you want him, so you swallow your fears and murmur, “Steve. ‘M sure. ‘M on the pill, and I just— I need you.”

It’s like he’s in a trance, unable to move until your lips are at his neck and your hands dip back underneath the covers so you can shove his boxers down his hips. He only snaps out of it when your hand wraps around his length and strokes up towards the tip slowly. He’s painfully hard, and even though you can’t see him under the covers, you can tell he’s big. You worry for a second; maybe you should’ve let him touch you for longer.

The thought disappears, though, when his long fingers wrap around your wrist, eyes big and pleading for you to stop, “Won’t last if you keep that up, babe. ‘D rather be inside you.”

“Oh, okay, sorry,” you giggle, shifting so you can also get rid of your last pieces of clothing. When your panties and pajama shorts are at your ankles, you kick them off under the covers and turn to your side once again to face Steve.

His gaze is heavy, hazel eyes a darker shade in the unlit room as he looks at you like you’ve hung the moon that shines in through the curtains. He can’t even see all of you, and yet, he’s staring at you like you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. With the way he’s looking at you, and the silence that’s fallen over the room, you feel shy, and Steve can tell. So, before you can pull away, a warm palm lands on the bare curve of your hip and he whispers, “C’mere.”

He doesn’t give you much of a choice as he drags your body across the soft sheets closer to him. Not that you mind. You’ve thought about this. About how easy it would be for Steve to grab you to pull you closer and kiss you like it was his last chance. He does just that, lips meeting yours in a soft kiss as his hands roam across your side and pull your body into his. You fit together like two pieces of a puzzle, like it’s meant to be, and you briefly wonder how you haven’t done this before.

Steve’s hand moving from your waist down to your bum pulls you out of your head and back into the moment. A not-so-gentle squeeze has your eyes darting up to his in surprise. He all but giggles when your eyes meet, and it’s such a boyish sound that it makes you laugh, too, “Are you just coppin’ a feel or are you actually gonna do something?”

“You have a nice ass, okay?” he giggles again, squeezing a little nicer this time as his lips meet yours with a quiet hum. He kisses you and kisses you and kisses you, soft and slow as his hands wander again, finding the dimpled skin of your thighs. His fingers press into your thigh, flesh molding between them, and though it’s not enough to leave a mark, you swear you’ll feel his hand there for days.

His palm leaves a scorching trail down the back of your leg until he stops just above your knee and takes your leg into his hand, hitching it up over his hip, pulling you in closer at the same time. He pauses as you hook around his waist, the tip of his nose brushing yours, his voice coming out gentler, more uneven than it’s been all night, “Is this okay?”

You nod quicker than you mean to and flush with heat, fingers threading into his hair after one of your arms pushes over his shoulder, “‘S perfect, Steve.”

He leans in for another kiss, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth and then your cheek, a welcome distraction as the tip of his cock nudges against your entrance. Your breath hitches as he pushes inside of you, your fingers digging into Steve’s skin at the not-quite-pleasant stretch. It’s not enough to hurt him, but he still takes notice, pausing for a moment to lift a hand to cup your jaw and tilt your face towards his, “Are you okay? Want me to stop?”

The way he nearly trembles in restraint as he waits for your word doesn’t go unnoticed, and you press your forehead to his, voice barely above a murmur, “‘M okay, keep going.”

“Okay. ‘Ve got you,” he replies just as softly, his thumb brushing up the plane of your soft cheek, gently rubbing back and forth against your cheekbone. His hips shift at the same time, drawing a sharp gasp from you that he soothes with more kisses until your hips are pressed to his, warm skin against warm skin.

It feels like Steve is fucking everywhere. He’s so deep inside of you, and you feel so full in the best possible way. One of his arms is needled between your neck and your pillow, curving around your shoulders to keep you close, while his other hand wanders over your body, seemingly with a mind of its own, traveling from your thigh to your hip, up the expanse of your soft torso to your tits.

His forehead is still pressed to yours, and the tip of his nose nudges into the apple of your cheek, his breath hot and heavy against your jaw as he says your name, “Christ, sweetheart. Y’got such a perfect pussy, feel like fuckin’ heaven around me. Been wanting you like this forever.”

The whine that forces its way out of your mouth is half in response to the way Steve’s hips roll against yours, but almost more so a response to the confession that you’re not sure he realizes he’s made. Pleasure thrums low in your stomach from his words alone, and your head swims with the possibility that Steve’s felt the same way for you that you’ve felt for him all this time. Your fingers twist into his hair and tug, a bit harsher than you mean to, but it pulls the prettiest sound from him, one that you want to hear again and again.

Before you get the chance to elicit another groan from him in that way, a strong arm curls around your waist, a warm, heavy, weight against the small of your back. He’s not as smooth as he wants to be as he pushes at your body to get you onto your back. You thud into the pillows behind you, giggling as Steve clambers back over you, kneeling in the space between your legs. Big hands on your thighs, he pulls your body towards his with a huff of a laugh, “That went a lot more smoothly in my head.”

You laugh again, completely enamored with the stupidly hot dork in front of you. Somehow, everything he does is endearing. Makes you want him even more. But he’s taking his time after getting you on your back, and you need him closer, want him back. You pout at him, bottom lip jutting out as you reach up towards him, managing to get an arm around his neck to pull him close, “Stevie, come here. Need you. Please.”

“You don’t have to say please, baby,” Steve murmurs as he gives in easily, a sucker for your pretty pout. One hand presses into the soft pillows beside your head as he leans in towards you, “Whatever you want, just say the word.”

The thought of saying what you really want out loud makes heat rush to your face and your chest, so you settle for moving your hips, lifting them towards his, desperately seeking any sort of friction to ease the ache in your cunt. It works for a moment — a quiet gasp tearing from you when the tip of his cock catches against your entrance, bumps into your clit as his hips shift against yours. You give another hint, hitching one of your legs up around Steve’s waist so you can press your heel into the small of his back, urging him even closer.

Steve takes pity on you — doesn’t make you say it out loud… this time — and takes the hints, finally sinking back into you with a bit more ease. You sigh in pleasure, a high-pitched noise that has Steve smiling into the crook of your neck, “That what you wanted, babe? Just needed my cock?”

“Mhm,” you nod against the pillow, bringing your other leg up to press into Steve’s side as he rocks into you slowly, an inch at a time, “feel so good, Steve.”

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters as he bottoms out, dotting a kiss to where his face is pressed into your skin, surprisingly chaste in contrast with what comes out of his mouth next, “Fuck, you’re so tight. An’ so wet, too. Just for me, huh?”

“Uh huh, just, ahhh, oh god— j-just for you, Stevie,” you reply, stuttering through your words as he pushes in deep, and grinds his hips against yours. The deliciously slow drag of his cock through your wet heat is making you dizzy with pleasure, and you clench around him. It draws a low moan from Steve that you can feel just as much as you can hear, his arms shaking, breath hot against your neck.

You’ve never loved your name more than you do when Steve groans it against your skin as your hips meet his. The way it comes out of his mouth is a short fall from reverential, and full of love, and you want nothing more than to hear it again and again. You push your hands over Steve’s freckled shoulders, pulling at him until his chest is crushed against yours. The smattering of hair covering his chest scratches against your skin as he presses into you, but you can’t find it in yourself to mind, because this is all you’ve ever wanted.

It’s quiet in the room, save for the soft noises you’re both making, and all of your senses are dialed up to 11, filled solely with Steve. His body heat, his hands on your thighs, your hips, your breasts, lips brushing any place he can reach, his cock filling you so perfectly with every thrust. The sound of his skin against yours, his moans and pants in your ear. The smell of sweat and sex and something warm and comforting that is so uniquely Steve. It’s all overwhelming in the best way possible as you inch closer to the edge, and it’s too much. But somehow, it’s still not quite enough.

Like he can sense that, one of Steve’s hands grabs at yours, fingers sliding between the spaces of your fingers as he pulls your hand until he can press it into the pillows underneath you. He squeezes it tightly as his mouth finds yours in a messy kiss, as if to say I’ve got you. And sure enough, after a few moments, his other hand is traveling down the length of your body, slipping between the two of you to find your clit.

“St-Steve—” his name comes out broken and choked, followed by unintelligible sobs as pleasure thrums through your body. You feel like you’re on fire, and every one of Steve’s touches ignites another fire inside of you until you combust. It consumes you, your entire body shaking, cunt clenching around his cock as you cum. He doesn’t let up, fingertips rubbing circles against your clit, hips meeting yours in a steady rhythym, only faltering for a moment when he cums, too.

He sounds like a fucking angel; the noise he lets out as he spills inside of you is one you’re going to remember for the rest of your life, though you desperately hope you’ll get to hear it again and again. Panting into the crook of your neck, he only slows when he feels your body go lax underneath his, and he gives your hands another gentle squeeze. Between that, the mind-blowing orgasm, and the kisses that he presses along your jaw, you swear you’ve gone to heaven from all of the affection.

Slowly, he lets his body drop against yours, though not quite all the way, in fear of crushing you. You can sense his hesitance, and press your hand against his shoulders again, legs crossing at the small of his back to pull him close and keep him there, like your very own weighted blanket. He lets out a short laugh, shaking his head as he nuzzles into you, “Okay?”

“Perfect,” you murmur softly, sleepily, in response, fingertips drawing lines between freckles and moles as they make their way down his back.

You stay like that for a few moments, basking in the softness and the silence of being with each other. It’s like nothing you’ve ever felt, and despite how content you are, there’s a nagging feeling in the deepest parts of your mind that make you wonder if you’ll ever get this with Steve again. He doesn’t say anything, even as he pulls his face from your neck and gazes down at you like you’ve hung the stars in the sky. His hand pulls from yours, only to settle at your hairline, his thumb brushing short strokes over your temple, soft brown eyes searching yours.

Steve presses a kiss to the tip of your nose, at your cheek, close to the corner of your lips, and finally one last one to your perfect mouth, and then his warmth is gone. You watch with heavy eyes as he slips off the end of the bed and pads towards the bathroom without so much as a word. He’s back moments later, though, washcloth in hand to clean you up. And then, when he’s done, he’s back under the covers with you, an arm slung over your waist like this is your normal. There’s so much to talk about, especially when it comes to the matters of your heart, but it’ll have to wait until morning, because apparently orgasms really are helpful when trying to fall asleep, and you blink slowly as you snuggle into his touch.

“Babe?” he says quietly after a moment, fingertips tracing shapes against your bare hip.

“Mm?”

“I… I meant what I said,” he pauses for a moment, heart beating wildly in his chest, “About wanting you forever. Always have, always will. I’d love to actually take you out. Do things the right way.”

You mumble something that he can’t quite make out, and it’s only when he glances down at you on his chest to find you fast asleep. Clearly, you haven’t heard any of his confession, but he can’t be upset with how peaceful you look. He’ll tell you again in the morning.

#steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb #stevie #steve thots #kit writes

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hakkkuu · 2 months ago

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married sungchan with his pregnant wife enrolled in a yoga class for pregnant moms… so basically sungchan was so turned on by you, the yoga teacher, how your body is still so tight and young… he’d fuck you so hard like he’s never felt a woman’s touch before, whispering how you felt way better than his wife, how his wife could never make him so turned on like this… dilf sungchan 😣

fuckkkkk dilf sungchan would be a dreammmmmm omg this made me feel smtg

The yoga studio smells faintly of lavender and sweat, the air thick with the soft hum of breathing and the occasional groan from the pregnant women stretching on their mats. You’re in the middle of guiding the class through a gentle cat-cow sequence, your voice steady and calm, when you catch his eyes on you again. Sungchan. He’s not like the other husbands who sometimes tag along—awkward, fidgety, unsure of where to look. No, he’s different. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a jawline that’s aged into something sharper, more commanding. A DILF, if you’re honest with yourself. He sits off to the side, supposedly there to “support” his wife, who’s seven months along, her belly round and taut under her pastel leggings. But support isn’t what’s in his gaze. It’s hunger.

You’ve noticed it before—how his eyes linger on your fitted tank top, the way it hugs your slim waist, or how they trace the curve of your hips in those tight yoga pants. Today, though, it’s worse. He’s practically devouring you with every glance, his lips parting slightly as you bend forward to demonstrate a pose. You know he hasn’t touched his wife in months; she’d let it slip during a casual chat after class once, laughing about how she “just can’t be bothered” while pregnant. Seven months, he’s been starving, and here you are—fit, young, your body a stark contrast to the swollen, waddling figures around you.

Class ends, and the women shuffle toward the lounge area, chattering about cravings and baby names. Sungchan’s wife waddles off with them, leaving him behind. You’re rolling up mats when he approaches, his steps slow but deliberate. “You’re incredible at this,” he says, voice low, rough around the edges. “The way you move—it’s hypnotic. Makes it hard to focus on anything else.”

You pause, mat in hand, and look up at him. His eyes are dark, intense, and there’s a heat in them that sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks,” you say, keeping your tone light, professional. But he steps closer, and the air shifts. “No, really,” he continues, a smirk tugging at his lips. “You’ve got this… energy. It’s distracting. In a good way.” He’s flirting now, blatantly, and you know he’s married—you’ve seen the ring on his finger—but there’s a pull here, a reckless spark igniting in your chest.

You should shut it down. You don’t. Instead, you smile, tilting your head. “Glad I could keep you entertained.” It’s an invitation, and he takes it. Minutes later, you’re leading him into your small cabin just off the studio, the door clicking shut behind you. The second it does, he’s on you—hands gripping your waist, pulling you against him like he’s been dying to touch you for years. His mouth crashes into yours, desperate, messy, like he’s forgotten how to be gentle.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect,” he growls against your lips, his hands roaming over your body, greedy and rough. “Look at you—tight, firm, everything she’s not.” His words are filthy, spilling out as he presses himself harder against you, his arousal obvious through his sweatpants. “She’s useless to me now, waddling around, whining. Can’t even remember the last time I felt something this good.”

You gasp as he lifts you onto the small desk, your legs parting instinctively as he slots himself between them. His hands are everywhere—sliding under your top, tugging at your pants, like he’s trying to memorize every inch of you in one go. “Seven months,” he mutters, voice ragged, “seven months of nothing, and then you—you’re like a fucking dream.” He’s frantic, almost feral, thrusting into you with a force that makes the desk creak, his breath hot against your neck. “So much better than her. So tight, so—fuck.”

You’re caught up in it, the raw need in his voice, the way he’s unraveling against you. He’s not gentle, not careful—just pure, pent-up lust, like you’re the first woman he’s ever touched. “You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he groans, his pace relentless, his grip bruising. “This body—Jesus, I’d trade her for you in a heartbeat.” It’s dirty, wrong, and thrilling, and you let yourself drown in it, the cabin walls muffling the sounds of his desperation as he takes what he’s been craving for months.

#riize hard hours #riize fanfic #riize scenarios #riize smut #riize #sungchan #sungchan x imagine #riize sungchan #sungchan x reader #riize x reader #riize imagines #anon ask #hakkkuu

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steviewashere · 2 months ago

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Anything For You

Rating: General CW: Minor Mention of Body Dysmorphia, Seahorse Pregnancy (If You're Not Comfortable With That Sort of Thing? Not Sure If This is a Real Content Warning, But Best To Be Safe) Tags: Post-Canon, Set in the 1990s, Dialogue Heavy, Established Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Domestic Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Trans Steve Harrington, Pregnant Steve Harrington, Seahorse Dad Steve Harrington, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Comfort No Hurt, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Massages, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson, Steve Harrington Loves Eddie Munson's Hands, Eddie Munson Loves Steve Harrington, Sappy Steve Harrington, Sappy Eddie Munson, Steve's Weird Pregnancy Cravings

🫃—————🫃 He flips over, clumsily, to try and get more comfortable. The pillow pressed into the shape of his body is not helping, not even when he fluffs it with both fists.

It had been a long conversation, trying for a baby. A lot of questions—Are you sure you’re ready for this; Are you okay for the changes your body has to go through; Will you let me love you even if you find it hard to accept that I do?—and there had been only one simple answer (with minor hesitance on his end)—Yes. Of course, yes.

And, so far, he hadn’t fussed too much about what he saw in the mirror. In the first few weeks, sure he did. How the roundness to him now wasn’t just fat building, it was a life growing within him. A life he had been eager to bring into this world, all things considered. The dysmorphia hadn’t gone away completely—it never has, probably never will. Seeing his toned muscles turn to gentle chub, the way his hips had shifted, those curves he chiseled away had come back tenfold. There were the stretch marks and the whole…thing with his now outward belly button. Sometimes, truthfully, he felt like an alien in his own body. The changes happening out of his control, sitting idle at his console, letting the changes take their course.

Nine months of sacrifice, that’s what it was.

Only a handful of months, though, out of a future of happy years. Of a child’s curiosity, interspersed with giggle fits and pillow fights, late night book readings and last minute science projects, cuddles on the couch and popcorn between the cushions, and smiles with gaps—aimed at him; oh, aimed at him.

Steve hefts himself from the mattress, shoving the pregnancy pillow to the side. His feet are throbbing, ankles swollen, everything of him heavier and clumsier than before. Hell, Eddie had told him to stay in bed, just to see if he could get the swelling to go down. But his back aching something this fierce—so horrible it’s like somebody’s standing on his spine with combat boots—he needs it to be fixed, and he only has one solution that comes to mind. Eddie’s sweet, sweet, beautiful hands.

He trudges through the hallway, past the bathroom (in which his bladder gives a phantom of a cry), towards the living room. Where, as soon as he begins to round the corner, he can see Eddie hunched over their coffee table like a gargoyle, paints and other tidbits laid out. Ah, he’s catching up on some painting, he realizes.

As soon as he can catch his breath, Steve leans against the end of the couch, hands pressed into the small of his back. “Eds?” he calls quietly, “can you help me with something?”

Immediately, Eddie is tossing his paintbrush down, scrubbing his hands on a nearby rag. It’s already been through some mishaps, if the poor stains on it have anything to say. His eyes land on Steve, big and cowed, eyebrows disappeared behind his bangs. The rest of his hair is up, loose strands framing his picture-perfect expression of worry. “What’s going on, baby? Need me to make some ginger tea?”

He shakes his head, presses his hands firmer against his spine. Steve groans at a particular sore spot. “Can you give me a massage, please?”

“‘Course, sweetheart,” Eddie murmurs, “let’s get you back to”—

“The bedroom’s too stuffy,” he whines. “Maybe we can put on a movie and you can do it out here? Maybe also with a plate of cheese and crackers? With some pickle juice in a glass?”

Eddie chuckles. “I can do that,” he agrees. “Why don’t you take my spot and I’ll get all that for you? Want some ice cream, too? I got your pint of Cherry Garcia.”

“Oh god, yesss…You know how to spoil me, y’know that?”

In one swift motion, Eddie stands from his spot. He rounds the couch, stops in front of Steve, and gently guides him to the cushion. Leaning down again, he presses a quick, warm smack to Steve’s temple. “Anything for you, sweetheart. You’re doin’ all the hard work.”

He settles deep into the couch cushion, leaning himself awkwardly on the armrest. It’d be better if their sorry excuses for throw pillows actually had some give to them, but they’re stiff and starchy. Putting them in the wash is added to his ever expanding to-do list; a list he won’t ever get around to, or if he does, it’s Eddie doing all the work. Tidying the place, nitpicking about the dust nobody’s ever seen, restocking the higher shelves of their pantry because, and Steve will remember this remark from Eddie, “I don’t want you somehow giving our child a genetic concussion.” And when Steve had barked back that that doesn’t happen, he only got a terse jaw clench and a nostril flare for his combativeness.

Needless to say, Eddie takes damn good care of him. It wouldn’t be hard to convince him to grab a comfier pillow from their bed. However, that seems to be unnecessary as he comes swinging back into the living room, his arms laden with the necessities.

“Alright, here is your makeshift charcuterie board”—a large platter, it must be their turkey serving platter, is clattered onto the coffee table—“I added some of those sliced black olives and a few pieces of deli meat, just in case you needed some more savory. There’s a still frozen pint of the finest Cherry Garcia; careful, sweetheart, it’s rock solid. A glass of iced pickle juice, just so you won’t be grossed out when it goes room temperature. And…da-da-da-da-daaaa”—Eddie sings that last bit, removing something that’s stuffed in his left armpit. The something in question is Steve’s pregnancy pillow, still warm from both their shared body heat—“a sweet cushion to replace that stupidly firm one you’re trying to get comfortable on. Figured it’d be nice to put under your head while you’re leaned down for the massage.”

The pillows are swapped out. In the firm one’s place, the pregnancy one is fluffed and squished until it perfectly cushions Steve’s heavy head. He turns himself so that he can rest down into the pillow, forehead pressed gently into the give. It’s barely warm and soft, meeting him in all the places it’s needed. He sighs. Mumbles, “You’re amazing.”

“Mm, I’m perceptive,” Eddie says, “hardly anything to write home about.”

“I love you to bits and pieces.”

“Love you, too, sweetheart,” he whispers. A warm hand trails across Steve’s shoulder blades, fingers gently knuckling along the knobs of his spine. “What movie were you thinking about? Your pick.”

Steve shifts his head, peeking over his now folded arms. There’s a low haze that settles over him, fuzzy and sleepy as shapes are blindly traced over his soft t-shirt. Blearily, he eyes down their video shelf next to the set. All packed in tight, tens and tens of movies for them to pick from. “What’re you in the mood for? I won’t really be watching, probably.”

“Let’s see…” Eddie meanders towards the shelf with Steve briefly mourning the loss of touch. He then crouches down with two noticeable pops from his knees, his soft fingers trailing along the sharp corners of the video protectors. He plucks a couple from their resting spots. “I was thinkin’, for you…something like…Ghost, or maybe Jerry Maguire, or…we could do Coneheads?”

Steve scoffs. “Ed, if you turn on Coneheads, I’m making you sleep on the couch tonight.”

He hears Eddie click his tongue. Then, he nods. “Duly noted.” Coneheads gets slotted back onto the shelf—even if, really, they should be putting it into the overflowing donation box near the front door. Oh well, Steve thinks, problem for another day. Eddie peruses their shelf for another moment, pulling out a couple more videos. “How about Sleepless in Seattle? Or we could even watch”—

“Jerry Maguire. I don’t think I can watch anything with Tom Hanks in it for a long while.”

“Y’know, I should’ve considered that after we saw Forrest Gump. That really did you in.”

“I almost left the theater after Jenny…god, just thinking about it makes me wanna sob. Get over here and make me feel better.” He loosens one of his arms from its tight hold around his head, hand desperately calling out for Eddie. However, his little call is ignored as the movie is slipped through the slot of the VCR. It gently clicks in, whirring as it’s seemingly rewound. The TV’s input is switched over with another set of clicks before a mirage of color is flashing before him. If he squints, he thinks he can spot Tom Cruise’s stupid shiny smile in the mix of it.

Eddie snatches the remote from the entertainment center, standing in place at the middle of their living room, hip cocked and arm wrapped around his torso as he waits to press play. Then, finally, the movie begins with Eddie reclaiming his spot next to Steve.

Before he can comprehend the change of pace, there’s a gentle tap to his back.

“T-shirt off, baby,” Eddie whispers, “do you want me to grab the lotion real quick? Might feel nice.”

Steve sits back up reluctantly, grunting as his spine is strained. He peels the stupid shirt over his head, though, and promptly tosses it to the carpet. “You gonna get my stretchies, too?”

There’s a tickle over his hips, the tips of Eddie’s fingers tracing the shiny edges of stretch marks. “Do you want me to, sweetheart? Y’know I can do it, it’s no problem.”

“They’re on my front, too, though.”

Gently, Eddie’s palms lay over those same sides. He cups his hands, running them up and down the lower half of Steve’s baby bump. “I’ll redo your pillow and everything if you want me to, Stevie. Massage your marks with one hand, hand feed you cheese with the other…kiss you between bites…tell you how wonderful I think y’are.”

Steve sniffles, bending back down to rest his forehead on the pillow. “You’re too nice to me,” he whispers.

There’s a quick peck to the center of his back. Murmured against his skin, “Because you deserve it, sweetness. You deserve all the nice things.”

“Ugh,” he groans, reaching down to squeeze tight at Eddie’s right hand. “You’re gonna make me cry, Eddie. You know that I’m crazy hormonal right now.”

“I’m telling the truth, though and you know it.”

“Just…just get the lotion, Eds, ‘fore I completely lose it.”

The couch groans as Eddie stands up from it. His shadow looms over, but then he bends down, warmth swallowing Steve whole. Another kiss is pressed to him, his exposed right temple this time, and his hair is petted at sweetly. “I’ve gotcha, baby. Nothing else I’d rather do, only wanna take care of you.”

“Eddie…”

Before he can do something silly like reach out and swat Eddie’s hip, he hears footsteps retreating down the hallway. The bathroom door is creaked open. “I’m gettin’ it, I promise!” Eddie calls out, “but I’m also takin’ care of you, cause that matters most to me! You know that!”

“You’re a sap!” he shouts back, “and I’ll cry, so stop it!”

Quickly as he left, Eddie is back beside him. His hands rub together, dry as they are, warming them up. “Mm, what if I thought you were beautiful while you cried, huh?”

“That means you’re being a meanie, making me cry on purpose.”

“I don’t mean to, Stevie baby. I’m just being honest.”

Steve sighs as Eddie’s warm hands lay flat to the center of his back. They don’t move, merely just remain. But even then, the touch alone, it’s enough to relieve at least a little tension. Though, realistically, that tension’ll be back by the time the movie’s over. “I know you’re being honest,” he mumbles into the soft fabric of his pillow, “it’s part of the reason why I love you.”

“That and my hands, I’m sure. Y’really love my hands.” As if to punctuate that, Eddie digs his thumbs deep at the knobby edges of Steve’s spine. Slow, though. Precise and gentle.

“Oh, you have no fucking idea how much I love your hands, Eds. If I wasn’t keen on marrying you, I’d leave you for just your hands.”

Eddie gasps dramatically. “Scandalous,” he exclaims, “what would our kiddo think of that?”

“Mmm,” he hums at a particularly good release. Steve takes a deep breath before he continues, recalibrating. “They’d probably think your magic hands give the best hugs. ‘Cause I think our baby’s gonna like hugs. You’re gonna be huggin’ us all the time. No choice.”

“Oh no…my family loves my hugs, how dare they? And they don’t even give me a choice? For shame.”

“You love it, Eds. You’d give all of yourself as soon as they asked for one.”

Eddie’s hands leave him, reaching over with a quick pump from the bottle of lotion. In the air, Steve can smell it, a light trace of lavender. “That I’d do, you’re right. Y’know what I think they’d want the most from you, though?”

“Hm?”

“Your laughter,” he answers softly and reflexively, “they’d go running to you with a new joke just because they know you’d laugh at it.”

Gently, Steve turns his head so he can get his words out clearer. “Yeah? You think so?”

“I know so. You’d start giggling and then they’d start giggling and then I’d come in, both of you would be on the floor in pure hysterics! Just laughing so hard you’re crying and your faces are red and even just looking at me would make you guys snort.”

“But then you’d be out of the joke.”

“Mm, yeah, well…I don’t need to be part of every inside joke. Think since you’re doing all the hard work carrying the kid, maybe you two deserve a little private stand-up show of your own, yeah?” The lotion is cold when Eddie begins finally smearing it over Steve’s skin. His touch is just as soft as his words. Light, almost airy. Carefree in a, somehow, completely caring way. “Where does it hurt the most on your back, sweetheart?”

“Everywhere,” Steve says, “but the lower back might be a good place to start. Think the bump is carrying lower or something.”

Without more direction, Eddie’s hands are already moving down. The first grind of his knuckles into tissue and Steve’s a groaning, relieved mess. “Breathe for me, baby. Deep breaths,” Eddie coaches. He does as he’s told, earning soft praise in murmurs and whispers. Then, “We’re getting closer.”

“Yeah,” Steve sighs. “’T’s kinda…kinda scary-exciting.”

“No more back pain, though, think about that. You’ll push and try and break my hand, but afterwards? You won’t be in constant, consistent, almost overbearing pain.”

He nods into his pillow, watching Jerry Maguire in near-blindness. Only a haze, lost in the feeling of the relief he’d been searching for all day. “No more massages,” Steve mumbles, “this feels fucking fantastic.”

“Just ask,” Eddie whispers, fingers walking up Steve’s spine. His knuckles are deep, kneading, yet still so careful. Like he’s too afraid to go too hard. Even then, Steve won’t push him. This is nice as is. “All you gotta do, baby, is ask me when you need help. Sucks that it took a whole damn pregnancy to show you that, but…hey, at least you’re finally asking when you need something.”

Steve huffs. “Well, I kinda have to when I can’t bend down to pick up a dropped sock or even tie my own stupid shoes.”

All at once, he can feel Eddie shift. Bending down to look him in the eyes. Wide-eyed and insistent before he sits back. “I like that you’re doing it, sweetheart. Okay? I want you to want my help. So…you want a massage after the baby comes? Cool, great. Consider it done. Lavender lotion and a charcuterie board and I’ll be at your side with my crazy awesome hands.” Eddie’s fingers trail again, though this time they’re connecting something. My moles, he realizes. Making constellations. At a particular spot, Eddie taps it and leans down, kissing the mark. “Even if you wanted me to make you a milkshake at fuckin’ midnight because you were having a crazy craving, then so be it. I’ll use some Cherry Garcia and everything. Just say the word.”

“And if I wanted my pickle juice right now?”

Without words, Eddie is bending forward. The scrape of the glass cup, ice clinking away at the sides, fills the room. “Sit up for me, baby.”

He does. And in one, gentle motion, a straw is brought to his lips. Steve sucks down greedily. There’s tang and acidity on the back of his tongue, something barely sweet on the tip of it. It’s the most quenching thing he’s had, the ice helps, too. Breaking away with a gasp, Steve smiles loosely over his shoulder, met with a close-lipped soft one of Eddie’s.

“Good?” Eddie checks.

“You’re a genius for the ice. It’s so cold.”

A snort. “I know you, sweetness. We’d be sipping ginger tea if that pickle juice went warm even the tiniest bit.”

Steve scoots on his cushion, pressing his right side against Eddie’s left knee—still sitting half-criss-cross on the couch, facing him. He smiles at Eddie, soft around the edges, but all his teeth. It squints his eyes. Bunches his cheeks. It’s easy on him, never forced when under the sweltering gaze of Eddie’s half-bared soul. Bursting, he says, “You’re gonna be such a great dad, y’know that?”

Eddie tilts his head, assessing. “Oh, yeah? How’d you figure that?”

“I don’t know, just…you…you think of ways to care about people without them even knowing what they need. You’re just…you’re honest, you care, you’re sweet. If I was doing this with anybody else, I think I’d be scared out of my damn mind. Just completely terrified.

“With you, though, with you I’m cautious, but excited. I’m…

“I’m safe. And I think we all need that.

“You’re gonna be a great dad. You were meant for it. Cosmically or whatever, you were meant to be right here, right now.” He slides a hand over Eddie’s left knee, squeezing with all his might. Teary-eyed, he still smiles. And with the touch, the warmth, the feelings, Eddie places his own hand down, soft palm against the warm back of Steve’s hand. Their fingers interlink. Tight and secure like puzzle pieces always meant for the other. “Even if it means guiding a straw for pickle juice into my mouth and hand feeding me white cheddar and letting me be a teary hormonal mess on our couch.”

Leaning forward, Eddie rests his forehead against Steve’s. His right hand goes to the baby bump, thumb sweeping in wide, horizontal stripes. There’s an easy, soft intake of breath as a rolling, slow kick meets his touch. “You’re gonna be perfect,” Eddie murmurs, “even when your emotions are haywire and even when you say the wrong thing at the wrong time and even when you think you aren’t. Everything about you, Steve, is perfect to me. Your laugh and your smile, the way you breathe, how you dance to any song on the radio, every mole on your back, the softness of your touches…

“Steve Harrington, you’re the perfect man. You’re gonna be a perfect dad in that beautifully imperfect way.

“Because you’re you. And I love you with everything in me and…

“Shit, I think I’m gonna be the one to cry if I sit and think about it all right now,” Eddie admits, voice wavering. His hand presses more firmly to Steve’s bump, not enough to hurt, but just enough to remind the whole world that it’s there. “I’d do anything for you, even if it means putting ice in pickle juice. Even as gross as that is, I’d do it all for you.”

Steve sniffles, burrows his forehead further into Eddie’s, as if they could possibly get any closer. “Kiss me?” he softly requests.

No words, no hang-ups, no buts—

Eddie’s lips are salty with newly shed tears. Warm. Firm, yet soft as they glide like butter on Steve’s. It’s not hungry. No, this is full. Sweet like a dessert you didn’t think you needed, but wanted anyway. Candid like a movie. Gentle in all the ways only whispered words know how to be.

It’s them.

He pulls away, not far, but just a hair of space. Quietly, “Will you help me with my stretch marks and cuddle me?” Steve asks.

“I’d dance on stars with you if you asked,” Eddie whispers, “‘course I will.”

🫃—————🫃

#stranger things #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #trans steve harrington #pregnant steve harrington #seahorse dad

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creedslove · 1 year ago

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HEARTLESS 💔 - FINAL CHAPTER

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels) x f!reader

Summary: A wedding, a new addition to the family and revisiting memories finally bring the Daniels family their well-deserved happy ending ❤️

(This is the last chapter of the HEARTLESS 💔 series)

• YOU CAN READ THE ENTIRE SERIES ON MY MASTERLIST

Warnings: a tad bit of angst (but not really, it's mostly just expressing emotions and revisiting sad memories), mentions of suicidal thoughts, fluff, brief smut (more like mentions of it), tension, talks of becoming a widow, Wyatt and his baby sister being the most adorable kids in the world, happy ending ❤️

A/N: it took me so long to get this done, I guess nearly six months, I don't know, I feel I sort of lost my way with this story, but I had to come back and finish our cowboy adventure, give them their happy ending. I love you all and I really hope you enjoy this chapter, I thank you everyone who has followed this story and showed me support through all these months of writing! It wouldn't have happened if it weren't for you ❤️🫶

12.6k words

Nothing could have prepared you for the reaction your cowboy had the moment you broke the news to him you were pregnant - or rather he found out about it by spotting the test boxes in the bathroom trash. You had been worried about everything, so many scenarios running through your head, always anticipating the worst and making you fear each single measure he could take. Just to have a grown ass cowboy on his knees before you, his face resting against your womb as he blinked away the tears that insisted on flooding those brown baby cow eyes of his. He just worshiped you, mumbling so many words you couldn't quite tell what they were, but the way he looked up at you, as if you were his whole world, made your heart skip a beat. It was a terrifying change, but you oddly didn't feel scared, not at that moment, not when you had Whiskey at your feet, showing he wasn't going anywhere, he was committed and devoted to you, to his family, a family that was growing, just like that tiny little seed in your womb, that was going to grow into a full baby, a blessing to that undeserving man, something he prayed for every single night, there was nothing Jack Daniels wanted more than to be a good man to his family, to be the husband and the father you and the kids deserved.

The kids.

He chuckled to himself at the thought of it, something that seemed just like a distant dream short days ago, was now a reality, the fact Wyatt was about to become a big brother, and the overwhelming love he felt for his son, also multiplying towards his second child. It was also terrifying to him, to love someone he hadn't even met yet, and how that could be taken away from in the blink of an eye like it happened to him before. He shook his head, squinting his eyes unaware of the tears that rolled down his cheeks, chasing those thoughts away. Nothing would happen to his family, you, Wyatt and the little angel inside of you would be just fine, because that was his responsibility and he would fight for it until his last breath. You felt his tears against your bare skin and a gut feeling told you exactly what he was thinking about, you didn't want him suffering for that, things wouldn't be as tragic as they were, Jack Daniels was a heavily traumatized man, who lived in fear of losing his family by not being good enough to protect them. You couldn't let your cowboy suffer in anticipation like that, so you pushed him gently, sitting on the floor to face him in the same eye level and stroked his cheek, the way his eyes were red with tears and he sniffed even if he tried his best to control his emotional reaction, reminded you so much of Wyatt, your son being the tiny little version of him. You placed your lips on Jack's forehead, then you went to his cheek kissing his tears away and finally to his lips, never breaking eye contact, at the same time he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you as close as possible, needing the reassurance only your touch could provide. You kept your cowboy so close to your heart, taking deep breaths and letting his presence sink in, finally realizing how much you'd missed your cowboy, spending days apart from him. You had been so deep into your own thoughts after finding out about the pregnancy you completely neglected the side that craved your cowboy with you. You wanted to hold him, kiss and make love to him, but at that moment, you could see the vulnerability in his eyes.

It broke your heart; Jack was a strong, fearless man towards anything that did not involve his family. He was able to take down dozens of enemies in a fight, he could face the most furious bull in a ring, he didn't fear death or pain when he was out in the world protecting a nation that didn't even know they were in danger to begin with, but he was not that brave when it came to his sugar and his son, and especially not once they added a baby into the mix. One could call him paranoid, but he was just not willing to take the slightest risk, it had happened once, it wasn't going to happen twice.

"Sugar, I-”

His voice cracked, he had tears in his eyes, threatening to spill at any given second, he wanted to promise you, word it out loud how hard he would fight for you, for your relationship as a couple, your upcoming wedding, he wanted to assure you you could splurge as much as you wanted, choose whatever made you happy, he wanted to throw himself at your feet like the dog he was, he wanted to cry and beg your forgiveness even if he had already done that before, more than once, and even if you, out of your superior state of grace, had forgiven him. He wanted to tell you he knew he wasn't worthy of you, but he wasn't strong enough to keep away, he wanted to swear you and the kids would be forever safe, he would do anything you wanted him to: quit Statesman, throw away all his lassos and whips, he would become a goddamn farmer if it were up to you. He wanted to thank you for bringing sense into his life again, for robbing him from those depreciating, suicidal thoughts. He wanted to thank, and beg and promise you, but he couldn't bring himself to say anything at all, all he did was blinking his tears, letting them run down his cheeks. You knew it, you knew it all, he didn't have to say it, you could feel it from his heart to yours. Caressing his cheek gently, you nodded, leaned towards him and kissed his lips once more.

"I know cowboy, I know it”

•••

The slight noise of crayons sliding through a sheet of paper filled your ears and brought your attention back to reality. You focused your eyes on the bright colorful shades that added a meaning to a confusing drawing Wyatt was finishing. A pillow under his bum so he could be tall enough to use the coffee table as his personal art table, while he glanced at his baby sister, Rosie, who rested in her baby seat and watched attentively her big brother's every move. The eight-month-old cooed and kicked her little legs, wanting Wyatt's attention back at her, their bond being as strong as it was the day she was born, he giggled at her.

"Calm down, Rosie… I will continue the story in a minute” he said in his smart pants way and turned his head at you, knowing something was up. Wyatt was only six - proudly going 7 in a few months, but he was able to tell whenever you were lying to him. He'd asked if you were alright a couple of times in the last hour, and you'd said yes. But you clearly weren't fine.

Dropping his crayons, he got up and walked towards you, bright brown eyes staring into yours and a comforting smile.

“What happened, mommy?”

“N-nothing happened, honey… why don't you go and keep telling Rosie the story… What story was it?”

"The story of us before she was born…” he said proudly and you let out a chuckle, of course he would want his little sister to know her origins and tell her everything that happened in the months that followed your wedding proposal up to her birth. You allowed yourself to stop the mental torture and point at Rosie who kept cooing in order to have Wyatt talking to her as she loved. As much as the sight melted your heart, a heavy weight in your chest stopped you from taking another breath without feeling pain. Jack should have been there with you. He should be sitting right next to you, playing with his kids and giving you all sorts of dirty smirks hinting at what would go on in your shared bedroom once the kids were off to dreamland. But he wasn't, and you swallowed hard every time you thought about it. You hadn't lied to Wyatt at all, when you said nothing happened; because nothing indeed had happened, the real problem was that something should have happened. He should have declined Champ’s request for a last mission, and being the stubborn cowboy he was, when he got there, he should've killed his enemies straight away, he should have answered Statesman's official communication channels, and above all, he should have arrived home two days ago.

You didn't get contact from him and neither did the agency, even if they actually sent Ginger to your ranch so she would keep you company and make sure you weren't lost in bad thoughts, even if she stood in your kitchen making you a cup of tea, always offering you dozens of stories in which Whiskey managed to save the day and showed up at the last minute, it still didn't work, quite the opposite, it made it everything worse. But you had to remain strong for the kids, there was no reason to spread panic, even if you were feeling panic yourself, you couldn't do that to them.

You hugged your little boy tight, burying your face into his soft curls, and smiled, looking at your precious Rosie, picking her up from her seat and holding her gently.

"Go ahead, love” you told your son and Wyatt smiled, giggling and tickling her tiny little feet.

"So… after daddy found out you were a little seed in mommy's tummy…”

And at your son's sweet words towards your daughter, your mind drifted off to the memories he was taking so much pride in telling her.

•••

“Honey, it's okay, I'm fine, our baby is fine” You'd told your cowboy for the third time but he wasn't convinced just yet, it had been a silly little accident and nothing more: you’d been playing tag with Wyatt and Jack outside when a chicken running lose crossed your path and your tripped over it. Thinking in retrospect, it wasn't silly, it was plain stupid actually, but the moment Jack saw you tumbling, he ran towards you as fast as possible, immediately lifting you up and placing his hand on your belly. The pregnancy was now two months along, and your soon-to-be husband was always in a state of alert, just like a guard dog, he wouldn't leave your side unless it was strictly necessary to, and at any slight glimpse of danger - well, his exaggerated conception of danger -, he would be ready to act.

"Sugar please, you fell down, that's something pregnant women aren't supposed to do, let's just go to town, get you to the clinic, have one of those fancy ultrasounds exams and make sure everything’s fine. Afterwards, Wyatt can have one of those happy meals he loves and you can check up any remaining wedding details you'd like to”

You both knew there was no detail you hadn't double checked in the month and a half you'd found out about the pregnancy. Your wedding was all set and ready to take place - a week from then, at the Daniels’ ranch. Everything was thoughtfully chosen, organized and done despite how fast things were going. However, the fear in that man's eyes made you nod and agree to his request. You knew you were okay, just as your baby was okay, but he didn't, not when his worst nightmare haunted him every single day, giving him no breaks or concessions; the horror of losing yet another child taking away his logical rational side more often than he'd liked. So you did it for him, for your worried cowboy. For the cowboy who wouldn't keep his hand away from your small baby bump and would pray silently for things to be okay.

“Alright Jack, let's go”

You gave in to his request and allowed him to help you climb up the Bronco, along with Wyatt safely tucked in the backseat just a few moments after he ran inside to grab you and himself a jacket. Your heart clenched with an overwhelming wave of love, your family was so perfect it didn't even seem to be real. As you watched the ranch become smaller and smaller in the rear mirror, Wyatt played with some dinosaur toys in the backseat, you noticed the cemetery entrance Whiskey drove by; the same cemetery Gabriella was buried with her unborn baby and that brought another pang towards your chest. You thought of her and her baby, and the joy and expectations she must've had, you thought of your own cowboy, and how hard it must've been for him to receive the news that destroyed his life. Placing your hand on your womb, you stroked it gently. You weren't worried until then, but the cold realization of what happened to your fiance, was enough to spike the doubt. Life was going so well for you, perhaps too well, and you worried at some point the good wave of luck would die out. Thoughts wandered, but a heavy hand rested on your thigh, snapping you out of your thoughts. Jack glanced at you, still keeping his attention on the road, but making sure to look into your eyes.

"It's going to be fine sugar, our sweet little bean is here, safe and sound”

You nodded thankfully for his words and tried calming down, knowing you'd be in town soon.

You could list the most emotional moments of your life: your first kiss, your first love, the first time you ever saw that pathetic handsome cowboy, the instant you fell in love with him, your first time with your cowboy, the first time you exchanged love words, finding out you were pregnant with Wyatt, listening to his first heartbeats and you could spend a lifetime listing all of those moments. So you figured the moment you heard your newest baby's heartbeat for the first time, you wouldn't become too emotional, but you were definitely wrong. The moment the loud heartbeat filled the room, your heart raced like crazy, looking around you saw your cowboy's eyes filled with tears, a sweet smile as he leaned in and pecked your lips gently, at the same time Wyatt's happy grin also caught your attention. The way he clapped his small hands so excitedly and giggled.

“See mommy? Baby sissy is alright!”

He said happily, as he was sure he would get a sister, and turns out, he was right all along.

That night, after Wyatt was safely tucked into bed, Jack came over to you, a basket and blankets in hand, a shit eating grin as he cornered you and kissed your cheeks, before going south and getting to your neck. Goosebumps spread all over your skin, you knew exactly what he was thinking of and you couldn't help but chuckle. He was still your handsome, charming silly cowboy and you loved him with every fiber of your being. He didn't even need to say anything, just offering you his hand, knowing you'd take it without questioning and without further ado, you two were quickly running through the green grass of the ranch, escaping to your old getaway spot, the one you'd spend uncountable hours with your cowboy, just enjoying the sunlight or the moonlight, relaxing and hiding away from everything and everyone. The early stages of your relationship, where you didn't know if you and the cowboy would actually become something more than a steamy affair, before even dreaming of getting pregnant with his child and going through everything you did. You would both get into your favorite date place: the barn.

Just a blanket to make things comfortable, some treats to nibble on and all the love flowing through your veins.

"It's been so long since we came here” you told Whiskey, as he opened the door and welcomed you after him. He didn't say anything, not before pressing you against the wall and stealing a kiss. And that cowboy was hungry for you. The way his hands gripped your waist before roaming over you, his heavy breathing and a whole new discharge of hormones thanks to your pregnancy, got you so worked up, your hands sinking into the softness of his hair, his stetson lying on the floor at how fast your make out session started.

"Missed you, sugar.. it was about time we came up to our good ol' barn, ain't it right? Just us… ‘cause mommy and daddy gotta have their fun” Jack's heavy breathing was so enticing to you, the way he hungrily went over to your neck and without you even noticing him, he had set the blanket on the floor, making it a cozy place for the two of you to lie down among stacks hay. Smooth dirty cowboy, must've done that a thousand times. If those barn walls could talk, they'd certainly tell the most explicit erotic tales, ones out of many that were actually starred by you. However, there was no place for jealousy of the past, instead you focused on the bright future you got ahead of you and the known fact you were now the only one going to the barn with your cowboy. No other woman would touch him but you, and that was priceless.

By the time you were both finished with your round, all that was left was resting against each other's body. His arms firmly wrapped around you, short nails scratching up and down your naked back, at the same time you nuzzled his chest. His warm skin and his heartbeat, those small details reminding you it was real. Your happiness was real. Love overflowing you at all times and nothing could be better at that moment. As you shifted and lay on your back, Jack's hand immediately rested on your baby bump. It was still quite small, but you could both see it taking its shape, it was your child growing healthy and strongly inside of you. The mixture of you and the cowboy, the final proof your love was so abundant it flooded into something more. Whiskey's hand stroked your skin, a distant smile on his face, as so much went through his mind. He couldn't help but experience so many feelings at once: love, fear, excitement, regret, grief. All of that mixed up in the handsome mess he was. He couldn't wait to meet his sweet daughter, because just like Wyatt, he was also certain it was time for a baby girl Daniels to make her debut in the family, yet, he couldn't help feeling the bitter taste of regret, thinking of all the wasted time and opportunity he could've spent around you and baby Wyatt. Thinking of how he could've and should've been there for you and him. Your first pregnancy, how everything was so new and scary, how hard and stressful things were, how much you and your son needed him. He closed his eyes and silently prayed for forgiveness, trying to convince himself better late than never, which was true, but he could've been a better man. His mind also drifted to very old times, when he wasn't much more than a boy recently graduated from high school, a wedding ring shining and a beautiful, young and bright Gabriella expecting their baby boy. She was supposed to have gone to college that year, if she hadn't gotten pregnant, Jack knew she would've made a great lawyer, exactly like she dreamed of; he often blamed himself for robbing her of her bright future, even if he knew he would've managed to work and given her and their son the best life possible. It was a topic he discussed several times in therapy and grief counseling. At first, he was adamant about not wanting to do it, but Champ only gave him two options: either treat his old deep wounds, or leave Statesman behind and start over with no job, no money, no support. And he was being kind, because more than once Jack heard people telling straight up to his face he should be rotting in jail. The truth was that Champ was right, he needed to, he should've treated himself years ago, it made him understand and finally accept that no one was to blame, but the killers who ended Gabriella's and the baby's lives. It made him see, he had loved them with all his heart, but he was still alive and he was entitled to be happy, he shouldn't feel guilty about loving someone else, about wanting to build a life with someone other than Gabriella, and above all, he understood that his sweet Gabriella would want the same for him, because he was sure if he was the one who died that night at a convenience store, he would never wish her a lifetime of sorrow and grief like he led.

"I think you're miles away from here, Jack…” your voice had snapped him out of his thoughts and brought him back to reality, just as your touch, fingers running through his hair as he chuckled and nodded.

"Just thinking about life, that's all”

"You know I love you, right, cowboy?”

“I do, just as I love you sugar. With my whole heart”

He pecked your lips and then got to your belly, his mustache tickling your skin as he left a trail of little butterfly kisses on your bump.

“And I love you too, baby, with all my soft old heart, a broken heart fixed with so much love and patience by your beautiful mama, your handsome big brother and by you, because I'm sure you're daddy's little sheep”

•••

"... So when you still lived in mommy's tummy, daddy called you little sheep, because you were too tiny to be a cowboy and also a girl” Wyatt giggled at his own joke and cooed as Rosie clapped her chubby hands. Your kids’ genuine happiness and innocence filled your heart with love and pride, and the fact your cowboy wasn't anywhere Statesman looked for him, only fueled the worst fears and thoughts you had going on. Raising your two kids on our own wouldn't be impossible, you'd done it before with Wyatt, you'd been strong enough to do it, but that was not the occasion any longer. You wanted your cowboy by your side, Jack and you were meant to be, you were married now and you wanted nothing more than to stay with him for the rest of your life, to watch your kids grow and grow old with him. You loved him with all your heart and that lack of news was driving you insane. Turning to Ginger, she simply shook her head, still no sign of him, and it pierced your heart. You wanted your sweet handsome Jack next to you, so you could both enjoy your family.

"... And then Rosie, mommy married daddy and it was under the willow tree! Remember we played snowman last Christmas there?! Mommy looked like a princess! Mommy, tell Rosie you looked like a princess!”

Wyatt tugged at you and caught your attention again, you kissed your daughter's head gently and then stroked your son's beautiful face. He was the sweetest child you'd ever met, he'd been your best friend for so long, you just nodded at his words.

"And you tell Rosie you looked like a tiny little prince and walked mommy down the aisle!”

“So Rosie…, Mommy and daddy's wedding was so fun! Let me tell you…”

•••

The arrangements for the wedding weren't as complicated as you thought they'd be, not when you had Whiskey by your side, always willing to make your dream - and his, come true. No matter the decoration, the dress, the flower arrangement or the buffet. Anything was perfect for him, because at the end of the day, you'd be his forever, his wife, the mother of his beautiful children. You'd sign your name as Mrs.Daniels, just like Wyatt and your baby would. And he couldn't wait for that to become true.

Taking advantage of the fact it was awfully warm for December, you both decided to hold the wedding at the ranch, where you could fit all the guests - nothing too much, just friends, some relatives, fellow agents on Whiskey's part, anyway - and all the other things implied by a wedding: a beautiful altar, a nice dance floor and all the great amount of flowers your cowboy insisted on you gifting you with, roses of course, he loved those as a little boy because his grandma and mama loved them, and it's a commonly well-known fact that above being a Mama's boy, Jack Daniels had been a grandma's boy, which only made you love him even more. He was a roses man, and you knew with all your heart that a little Rosie was growing up in your belly, the perfect mixture of your love and the cowboy's, just like your handsome, precious son Wyatt, was.

The location chosen at the ranch could only be by the willow trees, such a special place for you and your family, it was bound to become even more special. It would be the place where you and Jack would exchange your vows of always loving each other and your family; it was beautiful. The directions were also perfect, the exact balance between simple and elegant. Nothing to be too much, just some fairy lights carefully placed on the trees, white chairs on the green field and several roses of all colors scattered all over the place. You'd always heard men didn't usually take part in those details, but your Whiskey couldn't be further from that; he loved spending every moment helping you decide what you wanted and giving some of his thoughts too. The cake tasting was also another happy occasion: Jack made sure to take you to the best bakery in town, you, him and Wyatt had the hard task of trying a little bit of every cake available in order to pick the right one for the party. You, trusting your boys’ fine taste, you let them pick the cake: strawberry and cream. Everything seemed ready for the two of you to tie the knot. The dress was also easy to find, you weren't picky, you wanted something pretty and comfortable, that would make your baby bump discreet and allow you to enjoy your special day. Taking Wyatt with you so he would help you choose the best outfit, you simply loved how attentive and sweet he was, all the time he clapped his little hands and giggles

"You look pretty mommy!”

That's what you'd heard the most those days.

Your handsome cowboy on the other hand, had his suit completely figured out: after inviting some of the Kingsman agents, Eggsy sent your fiance a special fine tailored suit, the kind that fit your cowboy so perfectly and it hung tight to all the right places. He looked so good, too good it was almost impossible to be able to hold yourself back and honor the agreement you'd both made to wait until the wedding to sleep together again. It was quite silly to do that, but you remembered being younger and reading somewhere about how having a dry spell a few days before the wedding could fuel the honeymoon even more. You and Jack decided not to travel for your special getaway, he was still very worried about your health, no matter how many times your doctor assured both you and him things were alright with mama and the baby. There was also the fact you didn't have anyone to leave Wyatt with as well, he was a kind and sweet child to be around, but he wasn't used to being away from you for more than just a couple of days. Your mom was completely out of the picture and you and Jack didn't really feel comfortable in hiring someone to watch your boy on such short notice. A couple of weeks at your ranch, enjoying the upcoming end of the year festivities, your family and taking care of your pregnancy didn't sound that bad at all, you were looking forward to it and each time you saw Whiskey, your heart fluttered, thinking of all the happiness ahead of you.

Two days before your wedding, Wyatt woke up sneezing and sniffling, you had warned him not to spend too long around the river with his dad, you weren't certain what kind of vegetation was that, but it was enough to strike an allergic reaction in your little boy; and since Jack had been out to go fishing and Wyatt wouldn't leave his side for two seconds, it was understandable he didn't wake up feeling great, which made you give him some antiallergics in order for him to feel better. It'd worked to an extent, if it weren't for the fact the antiallergic your son got was the drowsy kind and it put him down to sleep through the whole afternoon, so without Wyatt's usual presence around you, always playing or asking millions of those thoughtful and creative questions, you took some time for yourself, relaxing and lying on the couch, waiting for Whiskey to be home. Your future husband was as excited for the wedding as you were, he couldn't wait to say ‘I do’ and finally be able to be your husband, and yet, you could still see there were some days in which Jack's mind wandered and he seemed so lost in thought. Or late at night, it wouldn't be rare to get up to grab a glass of water and find him looking out the window, silently and reflexively, just staring into the darkness outside the window. You hadn't asked what was going on, suspecting it had to do with something extremely intimate, and that didn't worry you one bit, your love was strong and your cowboy was devoted to you, perhaps it was something to do with those ugly thoughts he dealt with a while back; although he'd assured you he still went to the his therapist appointments regularly and things were much better in that sense then. Eventually, you felt your eyes getting heavier and heavier, and you ended up dozing off, your body fully relaxed against the comfortable couch and the warmth of the sunshine coming through the big window.

The distant sound of the Bronco's engine wasn't enough to wake you up by itself, you were so tired, a combination of your pregnancy and all the rush you had been settling things, all you needed was just a couple of hours of extra sleep and you'd be all set. Your sweet cowboy knew that more than you did, so he just tiptoed his way into the kitchen in order not to disturb you. The cowboys sweet tooth was really making him lose focus, so he had to grab a slice of that delicious cake you'd made him; no matter how many times you'd told Jack he looked the same sexy cowboy as always, he was sure he was growing a soft belly, and that was certainly due to your great cooking and mostly baking skills. And yet, he couldn't care less about it. He would trade any abs and fit body in the world for the happiness of your shared domestic bliss. He was so absentmindedly eating his second slice of cake - it was just too good to stop in the first one, he didn't even notice you approaching him, only when you placed your delicate hand on his back he managed to turn around and give you a smile as best as possible, due to the amount of cake he was eating, so you just chuckled and shook your head

“Chew it slowly cowboy” you said sweetly and wiped some crumbles off his cheek and then went to his chest, doing the same with his shirt. His free immediately rested on your belly as he grinned.

"How's the little cowboy?”

"He's alright… I'd like to talk about the big cowboy, though” you told him and saw his puzzled face as you chuckled and wrapped your arms around his neck. Jack's body was so broad and strong, it simply made you always feel safe and quite turned on, although you couldn't get distracted by him. His arms wrapped around your body, heavy hands resting on the small of your back as he sighed, he hoped he wasn't in trouble, although he had quite a good guess what you wanted to talk about. He placed a peck on top of your head and looked into your eyes.

“What is it, sugar?”

"I want to know what's going on, cowboy… I know you're excited about our wedding, just as I am, but sometimes you just get so lost in thought, you wake up in the middle of night and underneath all that spark of happiness, I still see some melancholy underneath… I don't want to see you sad, Jack”

He closed his eyes when he felt your hand on his cheek, the slightest caress was already so comforting for that broken cowboy; he was a screw up but he had the best intentions, all he wanted was to make you happy without having to worry about losing the three of you. You, Wyatt and the baby being much more than he ever deserved, he just wished he didn't worry so much about everything all the time. Taking a seat on the chair and pulling you to his lap, he rested his face on your cleavage, sighing as he wondered if he should actually open up and tell you what was constantly on his mind. What if you somehow misinterpreted what he meant?! What if you got angry with him and his over protection? So many things ran through his mind as he remained in silence for a few seconds, until once more that healing caress of yours snapped him out of his newest wave of melancholy, this time tangled into his messy hair, you could see the tension dissolving from his shoulders and how he was ready to talk.

"I'm so happy with everything that's going on… our wedding, our baby, our cowboy Wyatt growing up stronger than a horse, I spent so long thinking I could never be happy in my life only to be the happiest man in the world. I'm so thankful to you for all of that, sugar. You made me a better man, you made me want to be better for you and our family and now we're welcoming a new baby into our lives, I can't help my excitement to do this with you, sugar, it's my dream coming true”

The cowboy said honestly, this time he was the one who held your face between his hands, caressing it gently and being so delicate towards you like he'd always been. Still, you knew him, being sure there was a little bit more to it than just the pure excitement.

"And…?”

Whiskey licked his lips and gave you a sad smile, seeing nothing would go past you unnoticed, not when it came to him at least. He felt pretty happy and safe because of that, his heart warm at how sweet you were.

“And my mind keeps taking me back to when I was young… All this wedding preparation going on reminds me of the first time I got married… how young and naive I was, how happy Gabriella got, and how hopeful we were when lil Jack was growing in her belly” he swallowed hard and lowered his eyes “please sugar, don't think I'm comparing you two or that I still love Gabriella in that way, but it makes me sad to think my boy could've become a man, a big strong cowboy, and his mama should be a hell of a successful woman by now. I know I discussed this hundreds if not thousands of times over the years, but their fate was just so unfair, and along with that, the fear of losing you and our beautiful little family the way I lost them starts creeping up in my chest and I just get so paranoid over everything an-”

You interrupted your cowboy with a kiss; touching his lips with yours, feeling the warmth of him irradiating onto you, the way his arms wrapped around you and he deepened the kiss, loving to have a taste of you, especially when his mouth couldn't make the right words, he knew his heart could, and above all, your heart could listen to it. And you understood it, you really did, it wasn't because Jack still thought of his late wife, not in that way, but he just couldn't help wondering what would've happened if things didn't go the tragic way they did. Your cowboy was a romantic and sensitive man, no matter what he tried saying or doing. You broke the kiss with a gentle smile and took his hand “come on, cowboy, let's go for a ride” you told him as you dragged him out of the kitchen, stopping midway just to let Helen know you and Jack would be gone for a while and she should keep an eye on Wyatt just in case.

The walk to the stables was quick, as your cowboy didn't hesitate in going after you, still slightly puzzled as to why you decided to go out like that, but the moment he saw your smile, he went soft: he would do anything for you. You finally let go of his hand and went to Silver Pony, greeting her and petting her head, warming up his heart. Jack loved how sweet and kind to the animals he kept at the ranch you were, knowing you loved that beautiful horse, just as much as Wyatt loved his beautiful little pony, he frowned softly as he saw you getting the saddle and putting it on your horse.

"I thought we'd agree you wouldn't ride horses for now, you know, to prevent stuff in case you fall or-” you interrupted your cowboy with another peck on the lips, knowing he wouldn't resist further than that. Smiling you shook your head slightly

"You know, it's funny you don't want me to ride a horse but you do want me to ride a cowboy every single night” you winked as you saw a slight red shade crossing his cheeks before he cleared his throat “come on, Jack, I'll be safe, I'll be with you, you're the best cowboy in the world, the best I've ever seen, we'll just take a short ride and that's it…”

And with your puppy eyes, you managed to convince him. Like you always did.

And you were right after all, the ride was short and calm, nothing different went on, as you two exited the ranch entrance and took the small side road towards the fruit trees, the cowboy just assumed you were going to pick up some to make a dessert or something similar, but the moment you crossed the fruit path and walked a bit further, stopping by the cemetery, was when he finally realized what you'd had in mind. He did not see that coming, a part of him still tried to deflect him from considering that, but when he saw you getting off Silver Pony and picking up some flowers, it was the confirmation he needed.

“S-sugar, why? Why are we here?”

He asked as you took his arm and made your way inside of that holy place.

"I think it's important, maybe this will ease your mind, Jack… I know how hard this subject still is for you, and I also know you haven't visited her in a while. I think it's important for you, and well, for me too, that way we can soothe these feelings that still haunt you, cowboy. Let's go, I do it with my heart open”

And with your encouraging words, your cowboy Jack Daniels took your hand and walked towards his late wife's grave, knowing it was always a bittersweet feeling, but above all, necessary. He hadn't been there in a while, it was almost as if he'd lost the habit of doing so, not feeling that need of visiting them, not after he started attending therapy and realized he had to let his first family go, not after he realized he needed to fight for the family he had with you and that was the most important thing. Still, around special dates such as their anniversary or worse, the anniversary of their passing, he felt he had to honor them by showing up and leaving a couple of flowers. Jack was also aware that you visited their grave once and it warmed his heart. You took some of your time to acknowledge their existence in a substantial way and not treat them as if they were just his weird obsession. Once he realized you both stood in front of the tombstone, he took a deep breath. No matter if years and decades went by, the sight of their names written there always pierced his heart. He knew his relationship with Gabriella could've taken so many turns if she hadn't died: they could've been together until this day or they could've split up, they could still have feelings for each other or hate each other's guts, so many possibilities, none of them would ever come true, but what shattered his heart for real, was to think of his little boy, think of his little Jack, still so small and fragile inside his mommy's tummy, unlike Gabriella, Jack never got to hold him, never got to look into his eyes or caress his hair. Technically, it should've been easier for him to get over the loss of someone he had never met, but it wasn't, if anything, it was even worse, because he could never stop himself from wondering what would've happened. Would his son be good at school or get bad grades? Would be a mama's boy like Whiskey himself was as a kid or would he be rebellious? If he'd followed his dad's step and found his sweetheart earlier in life, there was a fat chance Whiskey would be a grandpa by then.

But those ifs and might-have-beens were just spiculation. There was no way to know it, and not to descend into madness once more living off daydreams and made up scenarios, was that he seeked help. He was better now, better than he'd ever been, but at emotional times like those, it was quite difficult not to be caught in the moment, so he felt startled when you placed your hand on his shoulder.

"Do you want me to go and give you some time?” You suggested as you placed the flowers on Gabriella's and the baby's graves, you had a gut feeling that moment was important for your cowboy, but now that you were actually there, you felt slightly dislocated, not knowing exactly what to do or what to say, it felt so intimate to be there, to see Jack's eyes fill up with tears, but instead of asking you for a moment, he tightened his grip around your hand and kept you in place. The two of you closed your eyes and said a silent prayer to his first family. You thanked Gabriella for taking care of your Jack and promised her you would make him happy, not letting him fall into his old depressive habits again; you also wished her and her baby's soul peace and happiness in heaven. Jack, on the other hand, prayed for them and for his new family, he told them he would always keep them both in his heart but it was time to let them rest, they'd never be forgotten or unloved, but the cowboy had another family to love and protect, he asked them for their blessing and he burst out crying when he spotted a blue butterfly on Gabriella's grave. She used to love butterflies and blue was her favorite color. It could've been a sign or not, he wasn't really sure, but the fact was that a weight seemed to be lifted off his chest at the same time he pulled you for a hug and thanked you for going there with him.

Truth was: if roles were reversed and Jack had died that night instead of Gabriella, he would've wanted her to move on and find peace and love with someone who could truly make her happy, so he finally realized and convinced himself there was no reason for him to do that, his late wife would've wanted the same.

•••

As Ginger got off the phone and paced the room, you felt your throat tightening with anxiety and worry; your chest was so heavy and the tears threatened to splurge from your eyes at any moment, there was still no sign of your cowboy and the way Ginger seemed tense as she whispered information with whoever was at the agency, only brought you even more fear of having lost your husband. You eyed the kids, who behaved perfectly and it pained you not being able to appreciate that, you wish you could sit down with them, talk and play, smile and hold them, but at that moment you were so unavailable, all you needed was to have some news from your cowboy, that was all you wished for; you wish you could hold him tight, you wish you could feel his presence, his warm, his scent all over you again. You craved your cowboy, your husband, and you couldn't even begin to consider the possibility of not having him anymore, at the same time those depressive thoughts were the only ones that crossed your mind. Wyatt complained about being hungry and as much as you should have gotten up and started making him dinner, you simply couldn't move yourself from your seat. Everything hurt and the way Ginger hung up and simply shook her head, signaling there were still no words about your cowboy, just shattered your heart. You discreetly dried a single tear and nodded at her, as you buried your hand into your son's curly hair - exactly like his dad's when he went a few extra weeks without a pretty decent trim. Even at your gentle caress, Wyatt still whined about being hungry, but seeing you were under no conditions of making them dinner, Ginger offered herself to make him some mac&cheese while Helen immediately stepped up to prepare Rosie's bottle. You thanked them and enjoyed a moment of silence as you were left in the living room by yourself. You shook your head thinking of things you couldn't actually change, but if you had that power you would've insisted him to stay, not to take that last mission, the future for the two of you along with the kids was just so bright, you had so many possibilities, he didn't need the money, he should've just stayed home with you. It should be a quiet evening, having a family dinner together, feeding and bathing the kids and then snuggling in bed, feeling those quick strong hands of his, roaming all over your body while those devilish lips whispered the most sinful things in your ear.

If only.

You sighed and got up, walking around the living room, stretching your legs and trying to control that huge sadness that seemed to have taken over you like a dark thick shadow that wouldn't go away. As you went to the window and watched it how the overcast sky had turned into a dark night, cold night, you saw the trees moving softly with the wind, which blew coldly through the leaves, you thought of how thoughtful Jack had become those early days before the wedding, how he would just stare outside and allow his mind to drift away, you knew now he had thought of his late wife and how things could've been different for her, you didn't want to think of that, because your troubled mind would wonder if you had really lost your husband already, if your worst nightmare had become true, if he would be reunited with Gabriella at that moment. So many ifs, as much as you fought that thought it didn't seem so distant which made you gasp and finally broke into tears. It was torture. Your heart was broken.

When you looked out the window once more, your eyes were still blurred with tears, as you tried controlling yourself, knowing it wasn't the time for your kids to see your outburst, so at first, you didn't actually see that curious figure moving in the darkness, it wouldn't even make sense to you, no one could be possibly wandering around, the glimpse of a mysterious figured might've been confused with a hallucination, but not the sound of a horse's hooves approaching the house. That was very real, you realized, the moment you raised your head and frowned trying to see exactly who it was. It wasn't possible, was it? The thing you'd been praying for the most for the past couple of days, had you fallen asleep? Were you dreaming? You wouldn't be able to tell, not with that anxiety bombing you completely making you feel as if your heart was about to beat right out of your chest. Not holding back anymore, you simply ran to the front door, opening it and rushing towards the knight in shining armor coming back home to you.

"Jack!!!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, your face filled with pure emotion as your depressing, pained tears were quickly replaced by happy ones, the relief you felt was enough to spread through your body and make it weak, having the sensation you could reach the ground at any moment, but there was no problem, your cowboy was finally back home.

Noticing you, your despair and your eagerness to see him, Jack immediately got off the couch and finished the path towards you by running. Welcoming you into his eyes, you jumped on him, crying and gripping his body against yours as if your life depended on it. You cried as you felt his hands running up and down your back, the way he whispered sweet little soothing words, reminding you he was finally safely home. You couldn't believe it, one moment you felt terrified you'd have to move onto a sad, depressing life without your cowboy, and then next, he was right there, for you. You also knew he was tired, hungrily, bruised and in need of a shower and certainly a lot of Ginger’s painkillers, but you allowed yourself to be a little bit more selfish and keep him to yourself, holding your husband and taking every bit of him.

"It's okay sugar, I'm home… it was the last one, I promise you, from now on, I'm retired Agents Whiskey, no more leaving my family behind to risk my life for others” he promised you with his whole heart, not being able to take your sadness at the realization of how much you'd suffered with him gone. He couldn't do that to you nor your family, he had priorities in life, and they would always be you, Wyatt and Rosie.

The way Jack kept you in his embrace, face buried into your neck, your sweet scent reminding him of home and showing him that just like you, he wasn't dreaming, he was indeed back home from a mission he didn't die for a true miracle, his heart calmed down. You could've stayed in that embrace forever, it was all your heart begged and ached for, nothing more or nothing less, and the only thing that was able to break that hug was when Wyatt's voice shouted a happy “daddy!!!” at the top of his little lungs, followed by Rosie's cooes and loud baby noises, the cowboy's eyes filled with tears at that scene. It wasn't just his sugar, it was also his kids claiming for him, his family who waited hopefully and patiently for him to come home to. He opened his arms to them, Wyatt running as fast as his favorite horse and Rosie being brought in by Helen, but it didn't take very long until she was in her daddy's arms, cooing and gripping his cheeks like she always did while he kissed her sweet face. There was no reason to cry or be sad about stuff, the Daniels were reunited again.

•••

The next couple of hours went by in a blur, you felt anesthetized at everything that went on, and while Jack had to sit down with Ginger - and Champ who arrived about an hour later and got them all locked into your cowboy's office, Helen insisted you to take a bath, followed by a calming herb tea, while she kept an eye on the kids for you.

You never really knew what went on during the mission, it was top secret after all, the only thing you were informed about was that the mission was dangerous, but a success, and Jack Daniels, now retired and former Agent Whiskey had been a hero. As a thank you for all the years of service, Champ gifted your husband with a significant part of the Statesman's shares, which would assure you and your family a comfortable future to put it mildly. Not only that, but he also offered your cowboy his CEO job, not the whole chain, but from the local factory, which meant he didn't have to drive more than just a few miles until the distillery, sit down at his desk, get his demands done and come back at the end of the day to see his beautiful family. It certainly brought you a big relief, your cowboy would be safe and sound and your kids would grow up with their dad around.

Once everyone finally went home, Jack had clarified all the professional details, he was able to shower, eat and have you take care of his wounds, stitching him up and patching him up, he was finally good to go. Of course, he had a 5 o'clock growing due to the days he was unable to shave, but he would have enough time for that. The important thing was that the four of you lay on the couch of your living room, relaxing and letting the calmness sink in. Your cowboy sighed relieved as he rubbed your arm up and down, at the same time the kids yawned but fought so hard their sleep. Wyatt was rubbing his little eyes, and yet, he didn't want to go to sleep at all, his tiny little hands caressed Rosie's thin and soft hair, the one that smelled like strawberry baby shampoo and he loved it. He giggled at her, who returned her big brother's affection by giving him a sweet gummy smile.

"Mommy, daddy, can I continue telling Rosie about the wedding?” Wyatt asked between yawns as Jack chuckled and nodded, his fingers toying with his son's soft curls, the feeling of his feeling surrounding him was better than anything he'd ever experienced before.

"Go ahead little cowboy, just don't forget telling your pretty little sister how beautiful mama was”

At his daddy's incentives, Wyatt let out one last long yawn and looked at his sister.

“So, Rosie… about mommy's and daddy's wedding. Mommy was so pretty!”

•••

The unusual warmth for December allowed you to have the wedding of your dreams: right by the willow trees, just as you had fantasized about since you were just Whiskey's girlfriend a few years back. Time flew by just as a lot of things between the two of you, things that had finally been settled and worked on, and your happy ending was near. You stared at yourself in the mirror, in awe at the fact the wedding dress suited you way better than you thought it would. It was a relief, as your pregnancy progressed, one of your bride's fears was not fitting into your special dress on your even more special day. Luckily, that wasn't the case. Everyone who helped you get ready, had been nothing but kind and honest, when they all told you you looked beautiful, but none of these compliments were nearly as heart warming as your son's, whose little eyes got brighter the moment he spotted you. He had insisted on getting dressed along with his dad, since he was convinced cowboys should help each other, but once he was ready in his adorable cowboy attire, he insisted on helping his mama this time, after all, you two had been best friends for a long time, so it was fair he would be by your side. Not only that, since he'd been officially invited to walk you down the aisle, Wyatt had noticed how important his task was, and he didn't want to do his mommy dirty, he wanted things to be perfect, so once he rushed to you, you simply got on your knees to hug your little man. In a way, if it weren't for him, none of that would be happening.

"You're beautiful, mommy!”

There was something Wyatt wasn't tired of saying, perhaps it was all the kindness you had in your heart you used to raise him well, or maybe he was just taking after his dad in being a charming cowboy, it was still too early to figure it out, but what really mattered for you, was how proud you were of the little human being he was becoming. Those were motivational things that assured you things were on the right track, when it came to raising and loving your family. As you twirled and your son clapped in excitement, he giggled and wrapped his little arms around your legs once more, not containing his urge of hugging his mommy once more. It never crossed his witty mind that it could wrinkle your beautiful dress in any way, but if you were being honest, neither did it go through your own mind. You'd never refuse any of your beloved ones’ caresses out of fear of wrinkling a piece of clothes. Things were perfect the way they were, you couldn't want anything more for the three - well, now four, of you.

"Mommy! Daddy’s so nervous! He can't wait” Wyatt whispered between his giggles, not sure if that was gossiping or not, but he didn't see any harm in telling his mommy about important things like that, and those were important to him. You chuckled and held him again, placing a peck on top of his head and nodding.

“Well, I'm nervous too… it's a dream daddy and I have, you know? It's coming true… it's like having so many butterflies in your tummy, kinda like when it's your birthday and you can't wait, that's all you can think of and you feel as if your tummy is funny but in a good way?!” You explained to him the best way you could, a way you knew your son was going to understand and you couldn't be happier about the face Wyatt was so damn smart. Good thing both your and the Daniels genes were a good mixture, because he took you by the hand with his smaller one and nodded.

“It's time mommy!”

The walk from the house to the willow trees didn't seem to be that long before your wedding day, you could've sworn things were a lot easier than they seemed at that moment, but each time you looked at your son's pure determination in taking you to his daddy, your heart calmed down. You figured your husband was as nervous as you were, but not only that, he was probably as happy as you were too, and in addition to it, he must've been so handsome. You just didn't expect him to be that handsome. So handsome that the moment you reached the willow tree path, everything seemed blurry and not so important. The decorations you knew were beautiful, the fairy lights on the trees, the roses all scattered around, the guests, all of your friends, fellow agents and important people who took part in your lives, all of that simply came second the moment you spotted your cowboy. Jack was so handsome, the gorgeous, flawless suit he'd been gifted by Eggsy and the Kingsman simply fit him like a velvet glove, perhaps it was that, or the way he took off his cowboy hat in respect at your entrance, knowing you should be the spotlight, after all, you were the bride, just not any bride, you were his bride and that was enough to make that old mushy heart beat nearly out of his chest. It was like nothing existed at that moment except you and him, and once the song played and your son took you by the hand, accomplishing the very expected task given to him, you could barely believe that was real, but it was, and you were marrying your cowboy.

As you stood in front of your fiance, you swore you never felt such a stronger wave of love for him. You both had gone over so many things, but in the end, love overcame it all and there was no other way things would be like, you and him would finally be together, married, before the men and before God, forever and ever.

"You look gorgeous, sugar” he whispered and took your hand, kissing it gently, before he turned to the priest and you did the same. The ceremony was short and full of beautiful words, exactly like you and Jack wanted. No boring services where you both and the guests would fall asleep halfway towards it. Your cowboy always defended the idea of small ceremonies and large parties, and you couldn't agree more. When you were both pronounced husband and wife, he kissed you, and you returned the kiss, the way he held you in his arms showing you it was real and meant to be, oh that cowboy meant business. But he didn't just stop there, once he broke the kiss, he got on his knees in front of you, like the gentleman he was and pecked your stomach very gently. An obvious and yet extremely delicate way of breaking the news to the world there was a new member of the Daniels family on their way.

•••

As you carried an asleep Rosie into your eyes while Jack did the same with Wyatt - your husband was a gentleman, he carried the heavier one so your back wouldn't hurt - he couldn't help but chuckle.

"He fell asleep before telling her about our wedding party, that was a good one”

"And he couldn't even get to her birth either, but don't worry Jack, I'm sure we'll all be gifted with his version of the facts, all they gotta do is recharge their batteries for a little while and they'll be good to go, way better than us, by the way, because I'm exhausted”

"Me too, sugar”

Your cowboy planted a sweet peck on your lips, watching as you placed Rosie carefully in her crib and covered her up, tucking your gorgeous daughter in and allowing her to fly into her sweet dreams. Then, it was your son's turn, you followed Jack into Wyatt's little cowboy room and watched him do the same, tucking your son gently and wishing him sweet dreams with the loveliest whisper and closing the door behind him. And then it was just the two of you, finally the two of you.

As Jack took you to your shared bedroom, you could already see a hint of sadness in his eyes. He was sure you were about to enquire about what happened on that mission, but the only thing you did was approach your cowboy carefully and slowly and kiss him. Feeling his heavy hands resting on your hips as they brought you closer to him at the same time you wrapped your arms around his broad width. Things didn't have to rush, not now, not at the moment where you were so deep into his caresses. As he broke the kiss, you stroked his cheek.

"I know, Jack. I know you aren't supposed to talk about what happened on that mission, I'm aware it's top secret, but I also know you nearly died, so I just want to tell you I'm thrilled to know you aren't doing it again, I'm so happy you've finally retired, that way I don't have to worry about not having you coming back home to me, and well, us, your kids, your family. I just love you with all my heart, and I don't think I'd bear becoming a widow…”

Your lips were immediately connected with his, as he felt the urge of kissing you once more, the way your words stung - because he knew you were correct, he knew missions were getting more and more dangerous, either that or perhaps Jack was becoming too old for that. But he also knew he had no right to screw things up, not when you two had built a gorgeous family, he didn't have the right to take that away from you by letting you become a widow, and god forbid Jack die before enjoying his marriage and kids. It wouldn't be fair, not after everything you two fought so hard for - still, your words melted his heart all at once, he loved you endlessly, more than anything in the world, and he wished he knew how to word that out for you, so a gentle kiss was the best he could come up at that moment.

“You won't lose me, sugar. I promise you that much, you got all of me, I am retired and I'll be around so much you gonna get tired of my face all the time”

“I doubt that, cowboy… I love you”

"I love you too, my beautiful sugar. You're the woman of my dreams, my beautiful wife” Jack kissed your hands as he wrapped his arms around you, placing you down the bed and straddling you. He was having his way with you that night, something the two of you anticipated so much. There was nothing you wanted more than to sink into your cowboy's arms. Forever.

•••

What Wyatt failed to tell his little sister before the two of them fell asleep exhaustedly wasn't the biggest part of the story, but you were sure he would've told her how good the yummy food was - and that he was the one who helped you pick it all up, and in case you and their daddy decided to get married again, for the party purpose of course, and nothing remotely similar to a breakup, Wyatt was sure you'd call Rosie for her help too. He would also tell her about how pretty it was to see the two of you waltzing, exactly like a princess and a prince, and how you and his daddy danced with Wyatt on the dance floor until he was too tired to remember what happened next. For the following months, there was nothing more than just pure bright happiness in that ranch. Wyatt started school, he was still in kindergarten, and as much as you and Jack were proud of your little boy, you could've sworn you saw a single tear run down your tough cowboy's cheek. He was thinking of how many important things he'd missed from his son's life, but that wasn't going to happen again. He was a present dad, the kind of person to attend any type of teacher-parent conference and be there all the time for his kids. He loved them with all his heart, and with the months progressing along with your pregnancy, Jack had stayed by your side at any given opportunity. He loved you, and he loved his baby girl, and every single night he dreamed of her; he dreamed of her sweet face, a face that resembled yours, as well as Wyatt's, and even resembled his own. He wondered what her hair and eye color would be like, and as he saw your pregnant belly swollen with his baby, the love seed he planted there, it also made his own heart swollen with pride.

When you woke up cramping and soon enough your water broke, he felt he had won the damn Superbowl, driving you to the hospital in his Bronco at the speed of light and later on having Helen pick up Wyatt from school and take him to the hospital. By the time your lovely little cowboy was officially a big brother to your newest bundle of joy: Rose Marie Daniels.

Although Wyatt insisted on calling her Rosie because he thought it was cuter and the nickname sort of caught on. If you usually went by ‘sugar’, your husband and son went by ‘cowboy’, why couldn't your beautiful daughter go by ‘Rosie’ after all?

And so went on your life as a married woman to the man of your dreams and your two beautiful children. There was nothing you could ask for, you had it all, and you loved every single part of it.

•••

A whole year had passed: your cowboy had finally gotten used to his retirement, out go super secret dangerous missions, and in come mornings spent at the distillery, supervising the production of the finest Statesman's liquor, afternoons spent taking care of the ranch and carrying Rosie all over, as the two of them waited eagerly for Wyatt to come home from school. You had talked to your husband about daycare, he knew it was quite a good idea, his baby daughter was smart and fast as a thunder, but the mere idea of sending her off to spend the whole day away from him was enough to tear his heart apart: he couldn't go without watching silly little cartoons, or making cute piggy tails on her soft hair and allow her to take a daily nap on top of his chest and belly. She was almost turning two, and as much as it mesmerized him to see her blossoming and growing up so fast, it still saddened him to see how fast time flew by. He was getting a third kid fever, but he wasn't sure if it was happening; maybe it was, he still needed to talk to you about it, but those were later plans, he still had so much to do with his life, with his family, he wanted to enjoy Wyatt, who was now nearly turning 8. His beautiful Rosie was practically a toddler now, and there was nothing more he enjoyed in the world than picking up Wyatt from school and letting the kids run loose with you in the green fields while he grilled his famous burgers. Those were special days, because they had nothing elaborated in them, just a family moment among the Daniels, something the brokenhearted cowboy thought he would never get, but turns out he did. He deserved it all. After trying so hard to convince himself he didn't, after trying to convince himself he was just a heartless man, he was shown he wasn't a horrible human being as the two of you had thought several times. You two had come along a long way, but in the end, things had worked out, because your love was big and strong, and nothing in the world could come between you.

As you watched Wyatt and Rosie playing with Silver Star, you walked to Jack, wrapping your arms around his body and kissing him deeply. His face was smooth as always and his mustache always trimmed, just as you loved kissing and riding quite often. You smirked at him and snuggled him.

“So, have you made up your mind, honey?”

"About what, sugar?”

“You know, running for mayor in this upcoming election..”

You and Jack had discussed it, more likely drunkenly discussing the possibility, you didn't know if he had actually meant that, but you knew your husband well enough to see that fire in his eyes and the genuine will to help the ones in need and give it back to the city that took him in. He returned the smile and kissed your neck, warning a groan from you.

"I still don't know, I think of it sometimes, it would be nice, I know I'd have support from you, the kids and quite a lot of people in town, but I worry it would make our lives too exposed you know, and I don't want that, I love our life the way it is, how happy and calm those kids are, I don't know about mixing up things…”

“Well, I want you to remember I love you and I'll support you no matter what. I gotta admit it makes me feel a little nervous to have this possibility of getting into politics and having our lives changing completely, although I'm sure I'd love to call you Mr.Mayor”

And at that naughty line, you earned a smack on your butt, making you squirm softly and see your cowboy really enjoyed the nickname, even if he didn't try running for mayor. Still, there was something else you knew he wanted, it could be a future plan too, but it wouldn't hurt to talk about it.

"You know, I was thinking that maybe in the near future, we could have a third baby… what about adopting this time?”

And your cowboy's heart nearly exploded with happiness and excitement. There was nothing he wanted more than seeing his family grow. No matter if it was by blood or simply by love, for a man who bought a ranch to fill it in with broken promises and lost dreams, nothing made him happier than to see his family running all over that place with so much joy and excitement. The happy giggles and squeals, and to think that could even grow, it was just an endless bliss, the kind of bliss Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey had to pinch himself and make sure he wasn't asleep, but instead, it was his lovely, beautiful reality.

"Daddy!!! We're hungry!”

Wyatt chimed in as he ran to him, followed by Rosie, who clung to her dad as if her little life depended on it.

"Yes, daddy, we’we hungwy!” She imitated her big brother, still not able to pronounce the R’s properly and making her daddy's heart melt into a puddle of love and affection. He got on his knees, wrapping his arms around his children. He loved them with all his heart. Just as much as he loved you, deeply, more than anything he had ever loved anyone.

Jack Daniels, former Agent Whiskey, a man whose heart was once broken, was now a man full of love. He was devoted to his wife and his beautiful kids, nothing in the world mattered more than them and for someone who had been known as a heartless man, he was nothing but love and comfort for you, Wyatt and Rosie.

The four of you were perfect for each other and maybe in the near future, there would be another addition to the Daniels, but until then, that cowboy was going to devote himself completely to you.

He wasn't ever called a heartless man again, not with that amount of love he felt overflowing through himself. He loved and he received love, just like he was supposed to, just like he deserved it.

____

A/N: thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you all for the kindness and the support you all showed me with this story. It's been nearly a year of what should've been just a one shot and turned into a 20 chapter piece of work! I'm so happy and proud of myself for being able to write this beautiful story, nothing cheers up my heart more than knowing you all showed me so much love! Please besties, it's been a long ride, so if you can, leave me a feedback for our cowboy's last ride, I hope you've enjoyed it, as much as I did! Love you all and once more, thank you for the support ❤️💫

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b-writessometimes · 1 month ago

Text

Sick John Constantine w/ GN. Reader - Headcanons

Warnings: None, other than slight OOC John Constantine? But idgaf. It’s fanfiction. Emphasis on the fiction part. I originally wrote this while i was suffering from a cold so bear with me. 🙏

[word count: 861]

This man has two momentums he swings to when being under the weather. We start off with his knee-jerk reaction:

Phase 1: Denial.

You know those people who claim they're 'not sick' while having a tissue box shoved up their noses? That's him.

I mean, he already regularly coughs up a lung due to his smoking habits, so in his own warped perception, having a cold is no different.

A large part of it is a pride thing. After all he's the same guy who's gone up against demons, gods, and countless supernatural threats. You think he's going to slow down just on account of some silly little thing like an illness?

John's denial shatters however once he hits a high fever. By then he holes himself up wherever he's staying for the week and spends a whole day in bed with used tissues scattered throughout and a whole jug of water nearby. (gross)

There’s some real cosmic irony to be found in the acclaimed 'Hellblazer' who tricked the devil himself, now reduced to a sweaty and half coherent mess because of some germs.

And thus we enter our next stage. This is where you, our dear Reader comes in. Knowing that John has the self preservation of a hamster, you take it upon yourself to check up on him.

Phase 2: Acceptance.

I fully believe that first this man will act all high and mighty insisting 'he doesn't need a babysitter' yada yada. He'll grumble and make the usual sarcastic remark about you sticking around and babying him when in fact you’re trying to y'know, actually help him.

But man's is real quick to shut up once you force give him some soup to drink and some genuine care. (a sip of sopa de pollo is more powerful than any magic spell he could brew up, i swear-)

Little did you know, you've unknowingly unleashed a demon.

He's going to milk his newfound 'poor sick patient' status to its limits. Will ask for anything and everything: some ice cold water, an extra pillow, the damn remote, random chores to be done, etc.

I'm also convinced he would try to continue smoking his cigs even whilst sick, so you had to hide them like how parents hide treats in the pantry so that their kids don't scarf them down whole.

Aside from the whole ordeal, deep down the warlock does have to admit it was...oddly nice having someone take care of him. Most folks just barely tolerate him on a good day, so having someone willingly watch over his sorry ass was a refreshing feeling. And he really is grateful for your company even if he was being a complete twat during it all (he was).

If John had a high enough fever he might mumble out something akin to those lines, but when he gets better the following day he'll deny ever saying so till the cows come home.

Like we get it, you’re emotionally repressed/ lack emotional intimacy. Just say you appreciated our help.

Bonus - Romantic-geared Headcanons 💗 (implied relationship).

So much worse. If that were possible. Also cue all the comments about you playing 'doctor' and him being the patient in this kinky role play you devised. Whether you go along is up to you.

Will be even more whiny the more comfortable he is around you. So if John acts like a big clingy cat, at least you know your relationship is something solid.

Seems like the type to enjoy, or in this case; need, his head in your lap while you scratch his scalp (likely dandruff infested but anyways-)

Still tries to flirt with you when sick. I don't think delivering lines with a hoarse voice and watery eyes is anyone's bread and butter, but you never know.

Gets pouty if you refuse to kiss him. Like any sane human would refrain from. Yes you've likely kissed him whilst he was covered in some demon's blood before, but not while he was sneezing all over the place and wheezy to the point of sounding like a broken squeaker toy with crusty lips.

But also will 100% make some smart comment if you do willingly kiss him while he's under the weather. So there really is no winning here.

I don't think he's much for TV, but at this rate you can basically put on anything and he'll be weirdly invested in it. Which to clarify, doesn't mean he'll enjoy it, just be very opinionated on everything happening on screen.

Gives you a little gift when all is said and done. Nothing over the top or sentimental. Not his style. Instead when you find a little doodle of your favorite animal, graphite sketch torn out of some notebook depicting your favorite animal, you already know who it’s from despite the lack of artist signature.

I saw a headcanon floating around somewhere of John drawing in his down time and now I’m taking it and running it down to the ground with me

Is willingly to return the favor and 'play nurse' with you next time whenever you get ill. To be expanded upon in a future post. Probably.

#john constantine #john constantine x reader #gender neutral reader #dc comics #hellblazer #sickfic #headcanons #john constantine hellblazer #b writes sometimes #long post #b. writes #posts this and runs away

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mikkomacko · 4 days ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/mikkomacko/781395689047523328/im-convinced-that-if-jersey-ever-had-a-little

jack is convinced that baby #2 is the one that will choose him as the favorite “uncle”, but is quickly humbled when the child starts crying the second nico hands them off to jack. after that he tries everything he can think of to make the kid like him more, but somehow the newest hischier just doesnt seem interested in him. at least not until theyre like six months old and jack buys them a saint bernard stuffy for their half birthday which immediately becomes their favorite because much like jersey loves cows, baby #2 LOVES saint bernards. the kid now barks at jack whenever they see him.

Stop Jack is like “I did my time with Jersey, I didn’t complain or whine once about her liking Luke more. My good karma is gonna pay off with this one. Second borns are better anyway.”

Until the baby is screeching their head off the first time Jack holds them. I’m talking purple in the face, earth shaking, heart shattering wails that make both you and Nico pause, wondering what the hell Jack could’ve done to make the baby cry like that.

As soon as Nico is holding them though, looking over the baby for any telling signs of distress they’re quieting down, sniffling and snuggling into Nico’s hold like everything is fine.

It becomes a sort of joke. All you have to do is hold the baby up next to Jack and they’ll start crying or fussing.

Jack is so upset too. “What the hell did I do?” He whines to Nico, “I brought flowers to the hospital! I helped deliver the odd cravings for that thing! I even baby sat Jersey so that thing could be made and now it hates me!”

He’s still determined to make that kid like him though so when he finds the stupid little stuffed dog in a toy store window while he’s out shopping one day he buys it on a whim. Those dogs are like the face of Switzerland and Jersey is weirdly obsessed with Swiss cows so this kid is probably gonna have a thing for Swiss animals too. Why not start with that one?

Jack even goes as far as hand washing it before giving it to the baby that way it smells good and doesn’t have any store germs on it. He’s already wincing when he takes the toy down to your apartment and finds the baby blinking sleepily in their little swing, clearly nearing nap time and he hesitantly tucks the dog into the swing with the kid.

And to his utter amazement the baby just blinks at him, doesn’t even make a whining noise around their pacifier and their little fingers are feeling the soft ear curiously until their eyes are slipping shut, falling asleep.

He doesn’t want to wake the baby but he turns to you and Nico with the biggest grin and mouths a “let’s fucking go baby!” Which makes you and Nico laugh.

After that the baby is totally fine with Jack. He can hold them now, can feed them with no complaint, all of it. And as the baby gets older Jack is who they’re running to when Nico sets them down in the locker room or has team gatherings.

#jersey Leeds #jersey Leeds Nico #girl dad Nico

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thatbxolivia · 2 months ago

Text

bed

cg!matt murdock x regressed!reader

bedtime was difficult tonight. the booming thunderstorm outside echoed throughout the walls of your home with daddy, and you shook with fear while hiding under your blankets. you heard daddy’s soft footsteps coming to your shared room, stopping to frown at your clearly afraid state.

“hey…” he trailed off, slowly climbing onto the bed. “can i see you?” he asked softly. you sniffled and nodded, him lifting the covers and getting under with you. “i know, its loud.” he validated your feelings. “it’s scary.” he said, rubbing your back. you snuggled closer into him, immediately feeling safer.

“daddy, i don’t like loud noises.” you whined.

“how about books? do you like books?” he asked and you nodded. he kissed your forehead and got up, leaving you under the covers. he snuck back in after a few moments, sighing and opening the book. you couldn’t see the title as daddy moved his fingers across the braille on the first page, but you knew as soon as he started to read. “in the great green room, there was a telephone and a red balloon. and a picture of a cow jumping over the moon-“

“goodnight moon?” you asked aloud. daddy paused and chuckled.

“i remember you said it was your favorite when you were younger. i bought it that day, been saving it for a time when i- you… needed it.” he said, correcting himself. you snuggled closer to him as he continued to read, fingers tracing over the pages. you tuned out the loud thunder and focused on your daddy’s voice, relieved it was working at comforting you. daddy’s voice was smooth and unwavering, it felt like a warm hug on a cold day. and you were so, so cold.

“daddy?” you asked as he finished the book.

“yeah, baby?” he responded.

“i just… i feel like i ask a lot of you…” you trailed off

“please don’t.” he begged.

“no, i need to.” you insisted. “i ask a lot of you, but… you do so much for me. you keep me alive, above all else. i used to not want to be so dependent on anyone, the thought of betrayal terrified me… but i want you to take everything. all of me. i love and trust you. please don’t leave.” you cried. daddy snaked an arm around you and tried to pull you in even closer, if it were even possible.

“you want the truth?” he asked you, the usual warm tone gone. you swallowed harshly and nodded. “when i first met you, i had you pegged all wrong. so headstrong. so confident, never letting anyone in.” he whispered. “but it was all a front, wasn’t it? the most injured and emotionally drained people tend to put on a persona, a facade of sorts… that they can’t be hurt, that no one can get to them.” he continued. “but you let me in, and in being with you, i discovered something about myself, too.” he said. “the more i cared for you… the more i realized… i need this as much as, if not more than, you. i will not leave. i will not go anywhere else. i will always be here for my baby.” he finished, kissing your forehead. “you are strong and resilient. you chose me to care for you, you chose to be here willingly. that’s not lost on me, i treasure those gifts. i will never leave.” he swore. you sniffled, wiping your eyes.

“daddy?” you called out, noticing the thunder had died down.

“yeah, baby?” he responded.

“i love you.”

“i love you, too, babygirl.”

#fanfic #archive of our own #cg!matt murdock #cg!matt #matt x reader #matt murdock #daddy!matt #daredevil x reader #daredevil #daredevil agere

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slyvieselkie · 1 year ago

Text

Mother Dearest

Warning: Stepcest, suggestive content, female reader

Check out Part II and the masterlist for more!

"Oh Satoru, your family's having a party today?"

The white haired boy looked up from his phone to Suguru and then to the compound gates a few hundred metres away. His crystal sky eyes stared at the rows of polished black cars parked around. He hummed ignoring the melting ice cream in his hand. No one told him anything about a party, he snorted, maybe that was their plan.

"Dunno, let's go check it out."

When he was close enough, Satoru recognised the guards standing at the door and cringed. Damn, the old cow was visiting today? The white haired boy considered leaving but he looked into the house and saw you standing there. With the cutest and brightest smile ever. His expression softened and Satoru grabbed Suguru's hand. What were you smiling about?

"I'm back~!", he sung unfazed by the disgusted look the Gojo matriarch was giving him.

Crystal eyes watched as you beamed at him and slowly make your way down the stairs, "Satoru, welcome back! Suguru-kun, you're back again!", the two boys grinned cheekily while you ruffled their hair.

"What's the occasion today?", Satoru mooed towards the stunned old woman and you gasp instantly pinching his cheek, "Naughty! You better apologise to your grandmother!"

Huffing, the Gojo matriarch made her way down, "Never mind the bastard boy dear, you just take care of yourself from now on. Why don't I send over a few more servants to help around?"

You smiled softly, "Oh you needn't to worry about me, Mother. We have plenty of hands around and I still have a few months-", "Nonsense! You have be mindful that the Gojo prince and princess is growing inside you right now!", the woman snapped.

The smile on Satoru's face was wiped off and Suguru turned to the boy with concern, "What?"

Glancing over the matriarch sneered, "My my, are you panicking now that the Gojo clan has no use for you? Prepare to pack up your bags, boy", she spat and you frowned trying to diffuse the tension.

Satoru couldn't hear anything, not the old woman blabbering, nor your sweet voice defending him, or Suguru trying to bring him back. All he knew was that everything he was working for was collapsing, disintegrating because you just had to bow down to the cow's pressure.

Finally, the matriarch ended her visit and you let out a sigh of relief. She was a fierce and intense woman, and had been so since her youth. You could only praise the gods that she acknowledged you as her daughter in-law. Many many years ago, your family accepted a marriage proposal from the Gojo clan. You were the fourth option, all of the others had ran away because of this woman. But somehow fate would have her pleased with you, and the marriage proceeded with clans across the jujutsu world attending the ceremony.

Smiling you turned to the frozen boy, "Satoru?", he blinked returning to reality, "Y-Yeah?"

Taking his shock as worry for himself, you approached him and caressed his cheek, "Don't listen to her, Toru. You might not be my biological son, but you'll always be my little boy."

With that, you ushered them inside to try the sweets the matriarch had bought.

....

Inside Satoru's room, the two boys sat there silently. Suguru stared at his gloomy expression knowing that he was doing his best to not obliterate the compound.

"Sato-", "I had a plan", he said with terrifying calmness, "All she had to do was wait a few years for me...and then we'd be together. I even helped, feeding her all of those Gingko Biloba to stop her from getting pregnant."

He turned to her with a blue flame in his eyes, "She just had to wait a little bit more, for me to make her mine."

....

Unaware of the terror brewing in your own home, you sat in the drawing room while your head maid ran around already thinking about labour day. You looked down at your belly and began stroking it, thinking of the tiny tiny babies growing inside. You were truly blessed to have twins, a boy and girl.

However your thoughts kept returning to Satoru. You sighed wondering how long he had to deal with the discrimination from the clan for being illegitimate. Born from a fling when his father was merely a teenager and fancied one of the pretty maids. She fell pregnant and was immediately taken away. Satoru and his mother lived quietly under supervision, raised as the spare heir. That was until his mother collapsed, slowly dying since the beginning of Satoru's complicated birth.

You only got to know this secret after having heard your husband and the matriarch argue about what to do with the child. Neither of them wanted to take the child in, neither of them wanted to anything to do with the child, but they couldn't just abandon a potential heir.

"We will take the child in", you made yourself known and watched their faces paled.

Suddenly a pair of arms snaked around you from behind, "Good evening Madam Gojo, I suspect you and our children are doing well?"

You giggle turning back, "You suspect correct", the white haired man hummed and pecked your cheek before leaning down to your belly, "Hey, papa's home."

Your fingers found their place in his hair, a pair of ocean blue eyes stared up at you. Maybe your children will get his good genes, the same way Satoru did. They'll have ivory hair and blue eyes, and the same troublesome trait all Gojos seemed to have.

"What are you thinking about?", you squeaked as he pulled you into his lap, "W-Well I was just wondering whether the children would get your genes, like Satoru."

At the mention of his tainted past, the man sighed and pressed his lips against your neck, "Do you remember the promise I made to you back then?"

Your eyes softened as you whisper, "How could I forget?"

The night you found out about Satoru, you returned from bath only to find your husband seated on the guest couch with a glass of sake. He noticed you and stood up, prepared to hear how he had ruined everything.

But you merely answered, "The child has already gone through enough. I won't have him live poorly or endure your mother's wrath. He's your blood isn't he? So take responsibility for what you had done."

You thought that was the end but he pulled you in until your noses were touching, "Our marriage may not be one of romance, but you are my wife and the only woman I want by my side for the rest of my life. Only you can be the madam of this house, and only you will bear my heir."

A small laugh escape your figure and you cup his cheeks, "You think I feel threatened by him?", he hesitated to answer and you couldn't help but reward his efforts with a kiss, "You just worry about yourself."

"Y-hey what are you doing?!", the man grinned at how you just realised that he had stripped you down to the last thin robe of your kimono, "Come on, a little celebration wouldn't help~"

You tried to fight him. Ume would be coming soon to bring dinner. The doors weren't locked so anyone could come in. You still had a lot of work to do regarding the announcement of the pregnancy and hosting parties. The arguments fell deaf on his ears as the white haired man pinned you to the bed, slowly untying the final knot and scanning the curves of your body.

Both of you were unaware of the eyes watching you writhe against the bed, hair flowing around you like a halo. Unaware of the pumping hands matching the timing of your bouncing. Teeth ached as red marks began littering your body. Satoru bit his bottom lip as he was approaching the edge, Suguru was also geting there by the sound of his pants.

But maybe Satoru had been underestimating his opponent, because when he looked back, a pair of electric blue eyes stared at him intently. As if he was showing off to Satoru that it was his lips on your breasts, his thrust bringing you over the edge, and his children in your womb.

A wild grin grew on Satoru's face, he needed a new plan.

That. That is the grin I imagine. Nah just kidding.

Hoped you enjoyed, Lovelies! And don't worry there will be a part two! ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

#fanfiction #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo saturo #gojou satoru x reader #yandere satoru gojo #not yet in part two

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warpedpuppeteer · 10 months ago

Note

buddie drabble: buck brings home a stray cat and eddie says no…. until eddie ends up being the only one the cat likes and he falls in love with it; established buddie, fluffy, chris is annoyed that the cat likes his dad more than him even though he feeds it treats

Thank you for the super adorable prompt! It's not all exactly as you wanted but I tried to stick to the prompt as close as I can. Hope you enjoy ☺️🫶🏽! (Link to AO3 is provided at the end for those who prefer that)

Fur-st Mew-ting

“No”. Eddie puts as much authority that he could muster in his best dad-voice. “Absolutely not”.

As expected, Christopher but dad’s him immediately.

“Look how cute he is, dad! And he has nowhere else to go!”, his son tries his best to make his case with his best puppy eyes.

Eddie looks over Christopher's curls where Buck is lurking in the background innocently.

His boyfriend is still in his uniform because he came here straight from work, and he is holding the tiniest kitten Eddie has ever seen close to his chest. It looks unrealistically small in Buck's large arms.

And fuck. It is a very cute sight.

Absolutely not, he tells himself determinedly, even if his heart beats slightly faster at the devastating sight of Buck coo-ing at the kitten.

It's a scruffy little thing. Fur sticking out ridiculously everywhere, tiny paws and big pitiful eyes staring right into his soul imploringly as if it was coached by both his boyfriend and his son to do its best to wear Eddie's defenses down.

And dammit; it's working.

Buck meets his eyes and has his own best puppy eyes weaponized.

Eddie sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Chris whoops loudly exactly like Buck and Eddie mourns the fact that their son is already learning Buck's frat boy ways. He makes a mental note to hide all the baseball caps in the house.

A tiny questioning mew joins their whooping.

The Ap-paw-intment

The first thing that Eddie does the next morning is to call the closest vet they could find to fix an appointment for the kitten. The girl on the other end of the line is cheery and polite and tells him they have a slot open at 4pm today. Eddie agrees easily and she asks for the name of the ‘pawrent’ for the appointment. “Eddie Diaz. And Evan Buckley”. “And your fur baby’s name?”, she asks innocently. Eddie wishes for all the strength and patience in the world as he looks at Buck who has his lips pursed, trying his best to pretend he's not laughing. “Baby Eddie”, he finally grits out. The girl, bless her heart, only goes quiet for a few seconds before thanking him and tells him they're excited to see them later. He hangs up, mortified. Buck finally laughs gleefully. “Oh the look on your face!” He puts the phone on the kitchen counter and scowls at his boyfriend. “Shut up, Buck. I can't believe you named the stupid kitten that”. “Hey!”, his boyfriend, who has the kitten on the table, gently folds its ears down, “don’t call Baby Eddie the s-word. He's named after my boyfriend you know”. Eddie glares at him, “a boyfriend who is re-thinking the decision of dating you currently”. Buck grins at him, unrepentant. “It was just a funny idea me and Chris had. He looked so excited about it and I couldn't say no”. Eddie just shakes his head knowing he's going to regret asking but he does anyway. “Why is that even a funny name?”. Buck gently lifts up the kitten to show Eddie like he couldn't already see from where he's making breakfast for them. “Because look at him! He looks just like you. Has the scowl and big cow eyes and everything!” Eddie scowls harder at him and Buck laughs so hard he nearly falls off the chair.

A fur-tunate coincidence

Baby Eddie settles down easily in the Diaz household (soon to be the Diaz-Buckley household but Eddie-the human one- is currently still working on it). The vet's appointment had gone well which didn't come as a surprise because apparently Buck and Chris had picked up the kitten from a shelter. A fact that only came to light after Eddie had agreed to house the scruff-ball. Eddie had done his best not to seem embarrassed everytime the vet said Baby Eddie while talking about the kitten. Even when Buck had gleefully told the vet assistant that the kitten is named after its other dad and pointed at him. They also find out that Baby Eddie is a girl. Turns out Buck and Chris had missed that part when they picked up the kitten. They refused to change her name despite Eddie's very convincing arguments though. She is now officially Baby Eddie Buckley-Diaz. Later that night, Buck had plastered himself on Eddie's back and mumbled, “I was only actually fostering her, you know. I didn't mean to make you an involuntary cat dad”. Eddie turns around in his arms. Buck has that look on his face, the one he has when he thinks he's done something wrong. “I'm not mad Buck”, he says softly. “I've been planning to either adopt a dog or a cat anyways for Chris' next birthday. It just happened a little early”. Buck's eyes light up, “really?”. “Really”, Eddie assures him and kisses him gently just to be sure. “I'm going to be a hands-off parent though. And I still don't like her. And she looks nothing like me”. Eddie tucks his face into Buck's neck, hiding his smile, feeling the thrum of Buck's laughter against his cheek.

A meow-ment of weakness

Buck has searched through all the drawers, the clothes hamper and the washing machine but his favorite blue hoodie is still nowhere to be seen. Frustrated, he heads to the kitchen to ask Eddie if he's seen it anywhere and stops at the entrance. Eddie is sitting by the kitchen table, doing something on his laptop, headphones on. He's wearing Buck's hoodie, sleeves pushed up to showcase his delectable arms. That's not what makes Buck stop and stare though. It's the fact that Eddie is wearing Buck's hoodie the wrong way around because he has Baby Eddie snuggled up in the hood of it. Baby Eddie has her head out, staring at the screen in fascination. As Buck watches on, Eddie pets Baby Eddie’s head softly with a finger and kisses her tiny scruffy head before going back to what he was doing. It's absolutely adorable and Buck thinks he falls even more in love with Eddie than he already has (he's going to put a ring on it soon, he's working on it). He takes at least 10 photos as proof and then calls Chris as an eyewitness just in case before confronting Eddie about the stolen hoodie and about him claiming he would be a hands-off parent just a few nights ago. When Eddie refuses to plead guilty to the charges, claiming he didn't realize it was Buck's hoodie and that it was just a moment of weakness because Baby Eddie looked lonely since neither Buck nor Chris were looking after her, Buck sends one of the photos to the group chat, grabs Chris and runs for his life as Eddie yells out “Buck!” when he checks his phone as his notifications go off.

Playing fur-vourites

To the disappointment of everyone involved, Baby Eddie has decided that human Eddie is her favorite human amongst them all. She follows him around like a shadow everywhere he goes, purrs up a storm whenever he comes back home from work, and snuggles up and falls asleep on him anytime he sits somewhere. Chris does get slightly annoyed at the development. “I give her extra treats but she still likes you more. That's unfair dad!”, he complains, as only a pre-teen could. Eddie feels bad for his son. He's not sure why the kitten has taken such a liking to him either. He'd rather she get attached to Chris or Buck instead. “Well, is it a surprise though kiddo? Your dad's really great. I mean, he's your favorite and mine too. So, it's not really surprising Baby Eddie likes him too right?” Buck attempts to placate him. Chris grumbles a little bit more but seems happy enough with the explanation. Of course, the fact that Baby Eddie chose that exact moment to butt her head against his ankle to get his attention might have helped as well. As Chris sits down on the floor to play with her, Eddie mouths ‘thank you’ at Buck, feeling warm. Buck simply winks at him, his stupid adorable boyfriend.

Pawrents, Interrupted

“This is all your fault”, Eddie accuses- unjustly if you ask Buck- when Baby Eddie climbs up Eddie's thighs to curl up on his chest. They had been busy making out on the couch as Chris was away at Pepa's for the night. Buck is already shirtless, hair a mess from Eddie running his hands through them, lips kiss-bruised. Buck looks at his boyfriend - pants unbuttoned, a hickey already blooming under his jaw and lips kiss-bruised just like his own- and snorts at him before smirking deviously, “to be fair, you do have very nice tits”. The pillow smack to his face was totally worth it if you ask Buck. (He does however, banish Baby Eddie into Chris' room, where her bed is, temporarily, while he apologizes to his boyfriend for his remark, very profusely and thoroughly in ways not suitable for a young and impressionable kitten's eyes to see. Baby Eddie might not have ended the night very happily but human Eddie very much did.)

Imagine Baby Eddie to look something like this lil one here:

READ ON AO3!

#sorry for the cat puns lmao #this is so silly and fluffy and i love it #911 abc #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #evan buck buckley #buddie fanfic #buddie fic #buddie drabble #feline purr-suasion #dagger writes #dagger writes buddie fics #it's a few days late because work ended up stressing me out #but I did it!#two more to go!!

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yourmomsawh0r3 · 10 months ago

Text

Proposal

Joel Miller x fem reader (pre apocalypse)

Joel adjusted his grip on the handle of their suitcase as he and Y/N sprinted through the crowded airport, hearts pounding and breaths coming in short gasps. The final boarding call for their flight to Tennessee echoed through the terminal, pushing them to move faster than they thought possible.

“Come on, Babe! We’re almost there!” Y/N called over her shoulder, her voice tinged with urgency but also bubbling with excitement. Joel admired her energy, even in the most stressful situations. He couldn't help but smile at her infectious enthusiasm.

They made it to the gate just in time, breathless but relieved. The gate agent gave them a knowing smile as they scanned their boarding passes and hurried onto the plane. As they settled into their seats, Joel took a deep breath, the anticipation of meeting Y/N’s family mingling with the nervous flutter of the engagement ring hidden in his carry-on bag.

The flight itself was uneventful, giving Joel time to think about the proposal. He’d been planning this trip for months, knowing that Y/N's family was important to her and wanting to include them in this monumental moment. When they touched down in Tennessee, Joel was struck anew by the charm of Y/N’s southern accent, which seemed even more alluring amidst the local twang of the people around them.

As they drove from the airport to her family’s home, nestled deep in the countryside, Joel found himself falling even more in love with Y/N. The lush, rolling hills and the golden hue of the late afternoon sun made everything feel like a dream. The tension in his shoulders began to melt away as Y/N chatted animatedly about her family and the adventures they’d have on the farm.

Upon arrival, Y/N's family greeted them warmly. Her parents, her siblings, and even the family dog embodied the essence of southern hospitality. The house, set on 15 acres of land, was sprawling and picturesque, complete with a variety of farm animals roaming the property. Joel felt an overwhelming sense of welcome as he shook hands and exchanged hugs with her family.

“Come on, Joel, let me show you around,” Y/N said, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she led him by the hand.

They toured the cozy, welcoming home first. Every room was filled with a sense of history and love. Family photos lined the walls, and Joel could see Y/N’s life story unfolding before him. From childhood pictures to high school graduation, each snapshot added another layer to the woman he loved.

Outside, Y/N showed him the expansive land that her family owned. The fields seemed to stretch endlessly, dotted with horses, cows, and chickens. Joel marveled at the beauty of it all, feeling a sense of peace he hadn’t expected. When they reached the four-wheelers, however, his sense of calm wavered.

“Uh, I’m not so sure about this,” he admitted, eyeing the vehicles warily. The idea of tearing through the fields on one of those things made his stomach churn.

Y/N laughed, the sound light and teasing. “Don’t worry, I’ll show you how it’s done.” She hopped on one of the four-wheelers and demonstrated its use with practiced ease. The way she handled the machine with confidence and skill only made Joel admire her more. Then, with a mischievous grin, she took off, leaving him standing in a cloud of dust.

“Come on, you big baby!” she called back, her laughter ringing out across the field.

Determined not to be outdone, Joel climbed onto the remaining four-wheeler. He hesitated for a moment, then hit the throttle. The vehicle jolted forward, causing him to grip the handlebars tightly. The initial shock soon gave way to exhilaration as he found his balance and began to enjoy the ride. The wind rushed past him, the landscape blurring as he sped up to catch Y/N.

“Want to race?” Y/N shouted over the roar of the engines, her eyes gleaming with challenge.

Joel grinned, feeling a surge of competitive spirit. “You’re on!”

They raced across the field, the thrill of the competition electrifying the air between them. Joel, with a combination of luck and determination, managed to pull ahead and cross the imaginary finish line first. He stopped and turned just in time to see Y/N pulling up beside him, her cheeks flushed and eyes bright with excitement.

“You won,” she said, breathless and smiling, clearly proud of his newfound skills.

Joel leaned over and kissed her, the thrill of the race still thrumming through his veins. “Guess I did,” he murmured against her lips.

The rest of the evening, Joel was the perfect southern gentleman. He helped with dinner, fitting in seamlessly with her family. They laughed over old stories and funny memories.

Later that night, as the house quieted down and everyone retreated to their rooms, Joel found himself alone with Y/N in her childhood bedroom. The familiar surroundings seemed to embolden her, and soon they were tangled in each other, the connection between them sparking into a passionate encounter that left them both breathless and sated.

As they lay in the aftermath, Joel's mind drifted to the ring hidden in his suitcase. He couldn’t think of a more perfect time or place to propose, surrounded by the love and warmth of her family and the memories of her past. With Y/N nestled against him, he knew that the future he envisioned with her was not just a dream, but a tangible reality waiting to unfold. He gently kissed her forehead, feeling her relax into him, and whispered, "Tomorrow. I'll ask her tomorrow."

The next morning, Joel awoke to the smell of bacon and coffee wafting through the house. He stretched, feeling the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window. Y/N was already up, her spot next to him empty but still warm. He quickly dressed and made his way downstairs to find her in the kitchen, helping her mother prepare breakfast.

“Morning, handsome,” Y/N greeted him with a smile that made his heart skip a beat. “Sleep well?”

“Like a rock,” Joel replied, wrapping his arms around her from behind and kissing her cheek. “What can I do to help?”

The morning passed in a blur of delicious food and laughter. Joel couldn’t help but feel like he belonged here, among these warm and welcoming people. After breakfast, Y/N’s father suggested they take a walk around the property, a tradition that the family held dear.

As they strolled through the fields, Joel listened to Y/N’s father recount stories of the land and its history. The sun was high in the sky, casting a golden glow over everything. Joel’s nerves started to kick in as he realized the moment he’d been waiting for was fast approaching.

After the walk, the family gathered on the porch to enjoy the afternoon. Y/N’s father brought out a guitar and started playing some old country tunes, with the rest of the family joining in singing. Joel couldn’t help but be charmed by the simplicity and beauty of it all.

As the sun began to set, Joel knew it was time. He took a deep breath and pulled Y/N aside. “Can we talk for a minute?” he asked, his voice slightly shaky.

“Of course,” she replied, looking at him curiously. He led her to a quiet spot under a large oak tree, the golden light of the setting sun casting a warm glow over them.

“Y/N,” Joel began, taking her hands in his. “These past few days have been incredible. Being here with you, meeting your family… it’s made me realize how much I want to be a part of this, a part of your life.”

Y/N’s eyes softened, and she squeezed his hands. “Joel, I—”

He cut her off gently, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring. He dropped to one knee, looking up at her with all the love he felt shining in his eyes. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

Tears filled Y/N’s eyes as she looked down at him, her hand covering her mouth in surprise. “Yes, Joel. Yes, I will!” she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.

Joel slipped the ring onto her finger, standing up and pulling her into his arms. They kissed, the world around them seeming to fade away. When they finally pulled apart, Joel rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too baby,” she whispered, her voice filled with happiness.

They returned to the house hand in hand, Y/N’s family erupting in cheers and congratulations when they saw the ring on her finger. The rest of the night was a whirlwind of celebration, with music, dancing, and laughter filling the air.

After dinner, the sun had dipped below the horizon, casting a soft, twilight glow over the house. The family had moved to the living room, the comforting hum of laughter and conversation filling the air. Joel found himself sitting on the cozy couch, sandwiched between Y/N and her mother. Her father brought out an old, worn leather-bound photo album, its pages thick with memories.

“Y/N, why don’t you show Joel some of your baby pictures?” her mother suggested, a twinkle in her eye.

Y/N groaned playfully, rolling her eyes. “Do we have to?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Joel said, grinning. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

With a dramatic sigh, Y/N opened the album, revealing the first page. Joel leaned in, his curiosity piqued. The initial photos showed a newborn Y/N, wrapped snugly in a hospital blanket, her tiny face scrunched up in what seemed to be a permanent pout.

“Aww, look at you,” Joel teased, pointing at a picture of baby Y/N crying her lungs out. “Such a happy baby.”

Y/N rolled her eyes again, but she was smiling. “Yeah, yeah. I wasn’t a fan of the world yet.”

As they flipped through the pages, Joel’s teasing became more affectionate. He pointed to a photo of a chubby toddler Y/N with a face smeared with chocolate cake. “Now, this one’s a classic. You were really enjoying that cake, huh?”

Y/N laughed, nudging him with her elbow. “It was my first birthday. And yes, I was very enthusiastic about cake.”

Joel couldn’t help but chuckle at a picture of a slightly older Y/N, probably around four years old, dressed in an oversized cowboy hat and boots, wielding a toy lasso. “Looks like you were preparing for your future on the farm early.”

“I was quite the cowgirl,” she replied with a playful smirk.

They turned another page to find a picture of Y/N on her first day of school, her hair in pigtails and her backpack almost as big as she was. “You look like you’re ready to take on the world,” Joel said softly, his teasing tone giving way to genuine admiration.

“I was terrified,” Y/N admitted, her voice equally soft. “But my mom said I put on a brave face.”

Joel continued to flip through the album, finding more pictures of Y/N at various stages of her life. He laughed at the photo of her with braces, giving a shy smile to the camera. “You were adorable,” he said, earning a blush and a grateful smile from Y/N.

One picture in particular caught Joel’s eye. It was a candid shot of a teenage Y/N, sitting under the same large oak tree where Joel had proposed earlier that day. She was reading a book, her face serene and content. Joel stared at it for a moment, feeling a deep connection to the past and the present intertwining.

“This is my favorite,” he said, pointing to the picture. “You look so peaceful here.”

Y/N looked at the photo and then at Joel, her eyes shining with emotion. “That tree has always been my favorite spot. It’s where I go to think, to read, to just be.”

Joel leaned in and kissed her forehead. “Now it’s even more special,” he murmured.

They continued to flip through the album, Joel’s teasing becoming gentler, more affectionate. He marveled at the young woman Y/N had been and the incredible person she had become. Each picture told a story, a piece of the puzzle that made up the woman he loved.

Eventually, they reached the end of the album. Joel closed it gently, feeling a sense of awe and gratitude for being allowed a glimpse into Y/N’s life. He looked around at her family, who had been watching them with fond smiles.

“Thank you for sharing these with me,” Joel said, his voice sincere. “It means a lot.”

Y/N’s mother smiled warmly. “We’re happy to have you, Joel. You’re already part of the family.”

Joel felt a lump in his throat as he looked at Y/N, her hand still in his. “I’m honored to be here,” he said softly.

They continued to share stories and laughter, the bond between Joel and Y/N growing even stronger. The photo album had given Joel a deeper appreciation for the woman he loved, and he knew without a doubt that he had made the right decision in asking her to marry him.

The night had grown late, and the living room buzzed with a warm, convivial energy. Joel found himself more relaxed than he had been in a long time, thanks to the welcoming company of Y/N’s family and the few glasses of Tennessee whiskey he had enjoyed. Y/N, too, was clearly feeling the effects of the evening’s drinks, her laughter coming more freely and her eyes sparkling with a playful mischief.

As the clock ticked closer to midnight, Y/N leaned in close to Joel, her breath warm against his ear. “Joel,” she whispered, her voice husky, “I’m so turned on right now.”

Joel’s heart skipped a beat at her words, a flush creeping up his neck. He glanced around the room, noticing that her parents were still chatting, though the hour had clearly taken its toll on them as well. Her father’s eyes were drooping, and her mother stifled a yawn behind her hand.

“We just need to wait a little longer,” Joel murmured back, trying to keep his voice steady despite the surge of desire her words had ignited.

Y/N bit her lip and nodded, her hand slipping into his under the table. They exchanged knowing glances, the anticipation building between them. Finally, her parents stood, announcing their intention to head to bed.

“Goodnight, you two,” her mother said, smiling warmly. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“Goodnight,” Joel and Y/N chorused, their voices a touch too casual. They watched as her parents made their way upstairs, the creaking of the old house signaling their slow ascent. The moment they heard the distant click of a door closing, Y/N turned to Joel, her eyes blazing with intent.

“Come on,” she whispered urgently, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the stairs.

They moved as quietly as possible, stifling giggles and shushing each other as they crept up to her childhood room. The door closed softly behind them, and the moment it did, Y/N was on him, her lips crashing against his in a fervent kiss. Joel responded eagerly, his hands tangling in her hair as he pressed her back against the door.

“God, I’ve wanted you all night,” Y/N murmured between kisses, her fingers working at the buttons of his shirt.

“Me too,” Joel breathed, his hands roaming over her body, feeling the heat of her skin through the thin fabric of her dress.

They stumbled towards the bed, shedding clothes in a frenzied dance. The room was filled with the sounds of their heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric. Y/N pushed Joel onto the bed, climbing on top of him with a wicked grin.

“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” she said, her voice low and seductive as she ground against him.

Joel groaned, his hands gripping her hips. “You’re driving me crazy,” he managed, his voice thick with need.

She leaned down, capturing his lips again as they moved together, the intensity of their desire building with each passing second. Joel rolled them over, pinning her beneath him, and she arched into him, her fingers digging into his back.

Their movements became more urgent, their need for each other overwhelming. The bed creaked beneath them, but they were too lost in each other to care. Joel’s world narrowed to the sensation of Y/N beneath him, her soft moans and gasps driving him wild.

When they finally came together, it was with a ferocity and passion that left them both breathless. Y/N clung to him, her body trembling with the intensity of her release, and Joel buried his face in her neck, his own climax crashing over him.

They lay tangled together in the aftermath, their breathing slowly returning to normal. Joel kissed her forehead, her cheeks, her lips, every inch of her he could reach, murmuring words of love and adoration.

Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes heavy-lidded and satisfied. “That was incredible,” she whispered.

“Yeah, it was,” Joel agreed, his heart full as he gazed down at her. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her and holding her tightly.

As they drifted off to sleep, Joel whispered a silent vow to always cherish and protect the woman he loved. Joel couldn’t help but think about how perfect everything had been. From meeting her family to the passionate moments they shared, it all felt like the beginning of something beautiful. And with Y/N beside him, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

#joel miller #joel miller x y/n #joelmiller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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