#toddler tings

[deathby1000sluts]

things i never thought i'd say: "don't put the cookie in your ear!"

[patrocles]

rangers and flyers tomorrow

they should call rempe back up from hartford so he and tk can have the funniest possible fight of the season

[theauraeater]

vent

[bluelockmaniac]

𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐘 — 𝜗𝜚 dad! itoshi rin x mama fem!reader

interested in a dad! itoshi sae x mama fem!reader? click here !

“i’m home,” rin’s faint voice echoed through the foyer of his house as he stepped inside and hung his jacket on the coat rack. he trudged down the hallway without hurry, finally arriving towards the two distinct sounds of carefree laughter in the living room. the corners of his lips subtly curled upwards as he took in the sight of you and his two-year-old son sitting on the playmat near the couches.

“now, can you tell me where the firetruck is?” you ask with a smile, watching as your toddler’s little finger confidently shoots out and points to the bright red toy on the side. “there it is! look at you, such a smart boy!” you chuckle, gently sliding your hands under his arms, lifting him effortlessly on your lap. his infectious giggles fill the room as you plant soft kisses all over his chubby face, but his laughter soon dies out as he watches a familiar figure approach the both of you.

“what’s wrong, baby?” you lift a brow, following the direction of the child’s gaze and turning your head around. you gasp in surprise as you find your husband leaning down unexpectedly, pressing a tender kiss on your lips. “woah— rinnie, you’re back from practice already?” the words slip out of your mouth more panicked than you had intended, questioning his early return. “i didn’t think you’d come this early. you scared me.”

“mm’, players were trash, i got bored,” he muttered, rising to his feet again. his attention shifted from you to the miniature version of himself nestled on your lap. a harsh glare met him, those identical teal eyes were tinged with intense resentment toward the man who stood in front of him and his mother. rin furrowed his brows, lowering himself to eye level with his son, returning his glare head-on. “and what’s wrong w’you, huh?��

you roll your eyes playfully at rin’s pettiness, but it seemed that your child had different ideas and seized the opportunity of the closed distance between him and his father, raising his arm. before rin could react, he felt a palm connect mildly across his cheek in an audible smack. his flinch synchronized with your loud gasp, expression hardening. his own flesh and blood had just slapped him across the face. “you little–” his voice trailed off as he was interrupted once again.

“...’tay away ‘fom mommy!” your son babbled in his adorable, angry tone. but upon noticing rin’s scowling expression, he fell silent and curled his fingers into the fabric of your shirt, burying his face into the security of your chest. your hand instinctively found its way to support his back, and he let out a brief sigh of relief before a pair of larger hands wrapped around his waist. 

“your mommy’s mine,” rin mocked bitterly, picking him up and settling him on his thigh. he reached out, gently pinching the boy’s plump cheeks. “she sleeps with me every night, not you.” the child squirmed in his father’s grasp, and as if sensing rin’s (feigned) serious tone, his face scrunched up and loud wails echoed through the room. his chubby legs kicked out, and tear-filled eyes pleaded for your help as he desperately stretched his arms towards you.

you let out an exasperated sigh, shaking your head at your husband. “rin, you’re so petty. fighting with your two-year-old over me? really?” you chuckled softly, “besides, you’re wrong, he sleeps beside me whenever you’re abroad for your games.” he huffs and rolls his eyes, struggling to keep his wriggling son within his grasp. 

“he’s been ‘givin me that lukewarm long face every time i see him.” rin grumbled.

you moved closer, carefully prying the boy from rin’s grasp and reassuringly cradling him against your chest. his sobs gradually softened into sniffles as you whispered soothing words into his ears. turning around, he met his father’s frown again. this time, his eyes were shaded with a mischievous glint, grinning insolently as he stuck out his tongue and blew raspberries at rin.

rin sighed. he had given up. he reaches his arm and affectionately pokes his child on his forehead. “i love you, you little rascal,” he mutters awkwardly. to his surprise, the boy giggled and extended his arms towards him, to which he unhesitantly took him into his embrace, planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

your heart fills with warmth at the innocent interaction between your husband and son. you watched fondly as your little boy babbled incoherently, tiny hands playing with rin’s strands of hair as rin held him securely by his waist. rin caught your gaze and subtly smiled, resting his other hand on your cheek before leaning down to press a kiss on your temple. however, his little bundle of… joy… raised his hand, and much to his shock, landed a perfect yet angry smack on his unsuspecting cheek.

“i take it back, take this little shit away from me!”

© 2024 bluelockmaniac — do not repost, copy, translate, modify, etc my work on any platform !

[msgexymunson]

Soft Touches

Description: you and your dealer Eddie get a little closer than anticipated.

Warnings: acquaintances to lovers, reader is AFAB, weed smoking (both parties so no real dub con), fem oral receiving, praise kink, p in v unprotected sex.

A/N: It's my birthday! And I'm high, and horny, so happy birthday! If you've read my work you KNOW I'm a sucker for the first time y/n fucks Eddie. When I'm a benevolent dictator it shall be a universal holiday ;)

4k words

Masterlist

“Eddie, what the hell was in that?” 

Floating in a cloud of your high, the entire room seemed to glow in pink and orange, senses tinged in a sunset glow. You were definitely stoned out of your tree if you were comparing Eddie's stuffy, cramped room to a breath-taking sunset. 

“It's a new strain I got from Rick. You feeling it?” 

“Oh, I'm feeling it alright. I can hear colours.” 

Eddie's rich laugh echoed off the walls of his trailer. He laid on the bed casually, one arm slung beneath his head making his tight t-shirt ride up slightly. Just a peek of his happy trail was on display, which you tried, and failed, not to stare at. 

It was proving difficult, especially since you sat criss-cross apple sauce on his floor. His body was eye level, handcuff belt shining softly in the low light. The glint of that drew your eyes even lower, concentrating on the bulge you could see in his jeans.

You thought you were being sneaky. You absolutely were not. 

“Hey, sweetheart, you gonna answer me or just stare at my dick?” 

“Huh?” 

Shaking your head as if to clear it, you finally met his gaze. 

“I said, you can come lay up here if you want.” 

Halfway between getting up and still in a weird little crouch his words finally filtered through your addled brain. 

“I wasn't staring at your dick!” 

“Whatever you say, baby girl.” 

Frozen, mind empty of comebacks, you clambered out of your goblin stance and stood up, when the blood decided to rush to your head. 

“Oh Holy shit.” 

Your knees buckled, and you would have ended up face first on Eddie's carpet if he hadn't caught you. 

“Easy there, I've got you.” 

Eddie's firm hands held your upper arms tightly as he manoeuvred you to sit on his bed. The room was spinning, everything was drifting out of focus. 

“I need to lie down.” 

Eddie pulled you towards his pillows and laid you down gently, picking your legs up and settling them on the bed with you. Staring up at his off white ceiling, things began to drift back in. Once the room finally stopped swooping around in your vision, you started to come to your senses. 

You are on Eddie Munson's bed. You knew him, sure, only in a ‘can I come round so you can smoke us out and listen to music’ kind of way. You'd hardly call him a friend. This though, feeling the heat of his body next to you, him leaning on his side staring at you worriedly seemed entirely outside of your current arrangement. 

Suddenly the air was stifling, Eddie's warmth only exacerbating the matter. 

“You alright?” 

“Yeah, just really warm. And fucking high.” 

Eddie laughed, relieved.

“Thank fuck, I was scared for a minute.” 

You fumbled at the hem of your oversized sweater, attempting to wriggle it up your body but all motor skills were beyond you right now. 

“Eddie.” You pouted at him, flapping the edge of your sweater with frustrated hands. 

“You want this off?” 

“Please.” 

He flashed you a mischievous grin and pulled up upright, beginning to draw the offensive sweater up and over your form. 

“Didn't think you'd be begging me to undress you sweetheart.” 

Rolling your eyes in response, you held your arms over your head like a petulant toddler. Sweater removed and tossed to the foot of the bed, you risked a glance at Eddie. He was entirely preoccupied, staring at your bare midriff that was now on display. 

“It's a crop top Eddie, get over it.” 

Flinging yourself back down on the pillow, Eddie coughed, looking a little flustered, and settled in next to you. 

“Sorry, I didn't expect it. You always wear baggy shit.” 

“Comfortable shit, thank you. I come here to smoke, it's not New York fashion week.”

Eddie ran a finger across you, just below your belly button. The barely there touch blazed across your skin. 

“I didn't know you had your belly button pierced.” 

Looking down, you watch as his fingers circle it, then flick the little jewel dangling off the end. Thighs clamping together out of sheer necessity, you attempt to ignore it. 

“Yeah, got it done when I was like 15, two towns over. Probably my least painful piercing. Apart from ears, of course.”

Apparently, Rick's new strain also makes you run your mouth, as well as being insanely warm and horny. It seemed you had captured Eddie's attention. He turned further towards you, one hand holding his head up. The other, much to your relief, stayed on your stomach. You're not sure he was even aware he was still stroking your skin. 

“Least painful? What other piercings do you have?” 

You seriously considered dodging the question, but it's difficult to be devious directly to those big wet eyes of his. It's like trying to lie to a baby cow. 

“Well, I got my nose done, but the piercing fell out and I didn't bother to get a new one. That one stung. But the worst had to be my… my nipples.” 

The whole bed lurched as Eddie jumped up and sat cross legged facing you. He practically flew into action, grabbing his cigarettes and a lighter as if you were about to tell him some epic tale. 

“Right, tell me everything.” 

Whilst laughing at his wide eyed expression, you realise he's being completely serious. 

“Well, they er, they like, sanitise the… area, draw a dot where they're going to pierce you and tell you to take a deep breath in and it's done. It's super quick actually. It's more the after part that hurts. Why are you interested?” 

Eddie pushes his hair behind one ear, the tip of it is glowing scarlet, you notice. 

“I was thinking about getting it done my last birthday but I didn't have the cash.” 

He's staring at you, nervously chewing on a hang nail. You can practically see the unasked question dancing on his tongue. You weren't going to offer, hell no. If he wants to see he has to ask. The thing is, the way your tummy is bubbling right now, you don't think you could say no to those eyes of his. 

The question remains unsaid. He merely offers you a drag on his cigarette which you take gratefully, before he's stubbing it out and laying back down next to you. 

“How you feeling now? Bit less baked?” 

“Oh I'm still fucked, but I can see straight and I don't feel sick.” 

His fingers begin their dance again, skating over your exposed flesh, stroking down your side to your hip, across your stomach, and back again. You want to mention it. He's never touched you like this before, but you also don't want him to stop. 

“Good. Not inviting you over again if you hurl on my bed.” 

Giggling, you turn and face him. You're both on your sides now, knees close to knocking. His shirts ridden up again and before you can even register what you're doing you've placed a delicate hand on his hip. His eyes widened briefly, but that's it. Both of you are touching the others bare flesh, whispers of touches. Little, tentative things, like the bursting of soap bubbles on skin. 

“I wouldn't hurl on your bed. I'm sure I'd at least make it to the bathroom. I'm not an animal.” 

Eddie just grins in response, and you look at each other, really look. His dopey smile is the same as yours, and it seems neither of you want to mention how this seems to be rolling into very unfamiliar territory. 

“Eddie?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Why are you touching me?” 

He pushes infinitesimally closer, his knee now slotting between yours. It's a small gesture, but suddenly the situation feels even more intimate than before. 

“Because. Because it feels good. You're soft, and warm. And you keep making little noises.” 

“I do?” 

He smooths his hand higher, thumb dragging along the underside of your breast, and you let out a tiny, quivering whimper.

“See? Like that.” 

Opening your legs slightly wider, Eddie's knee pushes naturally further forward, his thigh now wedged between yours. His breath is fanning your nose; cigarettes, weed, and sweet snacks. 

“So sweetheart, why are you touching me?” 

Your hand presses a little more firmly, snaking underneath the hem of his shirt. With no complaint forthcoming, you reach further up, stroking his side, up over his ribs, and back down again. He responds in kind. Every kiss of fingers is electrifying, filling the room with a soft, dense tension. 

“Because it feels good. Because I saw a bit of skin and I couldn't resist.” 

“Yeah?” He's smirking as he says it, but you're beyond playing games at this point. 

“Yeah.” 

“I didn't know I was irresistible.”

You pinch his skin a little and he stares at you like you just betrayed him. 

“I didn't say that, you're twisting my words.” 

“Pretty sure I heard-” 

Cutting him off with a tickle to the ribs, he grabs your hand to stop you. 

“OK, OK! You were right, I was wrong. Nice touches again please.” 

His hand swiftly makes its way back to your skin and you continue to stroke him. 

“Nice touches?” 

“Yeah, it feels really good.” 

Running your hand up, you graze his nipple, and then bring it back down, down, until you reach the top of his jeans. You graze a finger, just one, under them, sweeping across his tensing abs. Then, you move up to more innocent flesh. 

“Jesus Christ.” 

Eddie's chest is heaving, fingers pressing indents into your flesh. 

“Nice enough?” you're the one smirking this time, pleased at the effect you're having on him. 

“Yeah.” 

It's barely a word, more of a breath. You scoot closer toward him, just a couple of inches, but it's close enough to feel his thigh start to press against your heat. Gasping at the pressure, you rub subtly against his thigh to try and relieve your mounting feelings, no matter how slightly. 

Eddie's hand starts making a trembling journey up your form, fingers twisting underneath your top. Feeling the underside of your bare breast, you both gasp. Eddie undoubtedly because you weren't wearing a bra, you because, well, the obvious. The slightest graze had your nipple hardening instantly, hips rocking forward without your control. 

“Is this OK?” 

“Yeah. Please.” 

Fingers stretching further, Eddie finally brushes your nipple. The feeling is magnified by your piercing; they've felt more sensitive since you got them done.

The moan that escapes is louder than you meant but it couldn't be helped. This simple touch is igniting through your nerves and rushing to your high brain. 

“Shit, they are pierced.” 

It seems to be a thought that Eddie said out loud by accident as he rubs his fingers over your ruddy nipple, slowly circling the silver balls of the jewellery. 

Another moan breaks from you, even louder this time.

“Fuuuuck Eddie.” 

“Yeah?” 

His touches become firmer, rubbing your nipple between thumb and forefinger, mapping the way your face scrunches up with his eyes.

“Yeah, jeez. They're really sensitive.” 

Practically panting in each other's mouths, your noses rub together. 

“Can- can I kiss you?” 

His words are so hesitant that it makes you giggle. Pressing your lips in a swift kiss to his full bottom lip, you respond. 

“I'd be mad if you didn't.” 

Eddie wastes no more time, pressing a hot open mouthed kiss to you that you reciprocate in kind. You keep it slow, leisurely traversing new territory with soft, exploring tongues. Naturally your arms encircle him, pulling him closer, closer. His arm snakes around your back as your bodies press together, like puzzle pieces slotting together and finding their perfect match. Eventually you break away to take a gasping breath as Eddie presses kisses to your collarbone.

“I don't know why we waited so long to do that.” 

“We? I thought you just wanted me for free drugs!” 

You giggled loudly at that, so loud it came out as a snort, but it didn't matter. The moment was so honest that being cool had nothing to do with it. You were bare, in a way, and so was he. 

Eddie chuckled with you as he slowly but surely pushed you onto your back, slipping both of his legs between yours. Pushing your hips up, you feel his hardness graze your pubic bone. 

“Eddie?” 

He hums a response, lips and tongue busy loving on your neck. You tug at the hem of your top and pull upwards. Eddie gets the message, moving out of the way briefly so you can strip it off. 

There you are, bare chested in front of him. You'd be nervous, if you hadn't seen the longing in his eyes. He's kneeling, one arm leaning on the mattress whilst the other compulsively strokes your side. 

“Jesus Christ your tits are perfect.” 

The moment stretches just a little too long for comfort; you're a hair's breadth away from crossing your arms over your chest when Eddie leans down and runs his tongue around and around one nipple. Mewling pathetically, you lace your fingers in Eddie's soft waves and tug. In response his teeth graze you as he sucks softly; then he gives the other just as much attention. 

Shuddering and wriggling under him, you can't do anything but whine, your hips undulating upwards to chase some friction, some release, anything. 

“Eddie, please, I need you.” 

“Umph,” He responds, muffled by your chest, “I need you to say that again.” 

“Eddie I swear to God if you don't- ” 

He laughs, cutting off your sentence. 

“Alright baby girl, I got you.” 

Working his way down your front, he takes his time planting soft kisses, making you writhe at each touch of his lips, until he reaches your shorts. 

Flicking the button open, he slowly drags the zip down and finds the little sliver of red panties poking out. 

“Hearts? Cute.” 

Thick fingers plunge into your clothes and pull them away, flinging your shorts and panties across the room into the void that was Eddie's carpet. 

Insecurity finally gripped its claws into you. What if he didn't like what you looked like down there, smelled like, tasted like? 

A moment of unadulterated panic, and then Eddie licked his tongue, slowly yet firmly, between your lips and all the way up. Barging your thighs further apart with his shoulders, he rooted your clit out with his tongue, running dizzying circles and sucking at it desperately. 

Eddie's moans rivalled your own, such neediness etched in you swear his fingerprints will be left on the outside of your thighs like tattoos, simply from the force he held you with. Barely able to shake, you compensated by pulling his hair and guiding his tongue exactly where you needed it. 

He pushed a thick calloused finger into you slowly, looking up at you as he did so. You back arched off the bed. He felt around, staring at you with such intensity you that you were seconds away from telling him to quit staring when-

“Oh God, oh fuck!” 

Eddie smirked, sliding another finger in gently to join the first, and worked your clit between his lips. He incessantly stroked a spot inside that you'd never reach on your own, a firm, beckoning gesture as if he were willing your orgasm to come hither. 

It was working. Your insides tingle, a tightness pulling straight from your gut and shooting out to your fingers and toes. Beyond control by this point, your hand pulls his hair tightly. To your amazement, his other hand reaches out to you, seeking, and you lace your fingers in his own. 

As soon as your digits touched, you were gone. Your release plummets out of you, shaking through every bone you have, leaving you a twitching puddle of a woman. His fingers chase after it, dragging every inch of squelching pleasure out of your insides until you're tugging him away and begging for it to stop. 

As he moved back up your body, licking and sucking as he did so, you tried to think of an answer to the smug grin he was just about to flash at you. 

There was none. Brain unravelled, threads wound into your nerves instead of your thoughts, you laid there, ruminating on how he'd made you come faster than any other man.

Eddie hovered over you, nose nudging your own. He must have wiped his mouth at some point whilst you were in la la land. 

“Hey pretty girl.”

“Eddie, you're really fuckin’ good at that.”

“I know.”

You laugh, tapping his side.

“Cocky.”

“Confident.”

Before you can retort his mouth is back on you, peppering kisses to your jaw, as his solid member presses into your naked heat.

“Fuck Eddie, please, please please-”

“Please what baby girl?” He asks, then sucks a hickey on your neck. 

Pulling him towards you by his shirt collar, you bite down sharply on his earlobe, pulling a little groan from his chest.

“I want you to stuff me full Eddie. I'm- I'm on birth control. Fill me up.” 

You can practically feel Eddie's eyes roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, you can't just say that, I nearly busted in my pants!” 

Pulling himself off you for the shortest time he could, he peels his t-shirt over his head and flops back on top of you. Desperate kisses and urgent gropes spill from you both; grinding, needy things that tore at clothes and grasped at flesh. 

After fiddling and failing with his belt, you huff and tug harshly at his waistband. He chuckles, biting at your bottom lip as he unlatches it with ease and then wriggles his pants and boxers down his legs with urgency. 

More desperate grasps, teeth and tongues clashing violently, your hand reaching down to clutch at his- 

“Holy hell!” 

His eyes widen, hands coming to a halt, waiting for the rest of your sentence. You're too busy trying to glance down his front as he hovers over you, your fist firmly stroking his hardened cock.

“You're huge Eddie!” 

He smirks and thrusts into your hand, the velvet smoothness of his dick massaged  by your palm. 

“Bet you say that to all the guys.”

“Er, no, Rick's made some truth serum or some shit because that's the biggest I've ever felt.” 

You guide him firmly towards your entrance, dragging the tip of his enlarged cock through your slickened folds. He quivers over you, arms thick with tension. 

“Baby girl just, just slip it inside, please-” 

“Now who's begging?” 

Grinning mischievously, you wait for him to start forming an answer with his mouth when you slip the head inside your sopping opening. His open mouth turns into a long drawn out moan. 

You would tease him if the feeling of him splitting you open wasn't all consuming. Which it fucking is. He just keeps pushing, and pushing, until his chest is flush with yours and he's mumbling platitudes in your ear. 

“Doing so good for me. Such a naughty, naughty girl. Getting filled up by her drug dealer? Baby girls a little dirty, isn't she?”

You're trying not to let him know how much his words affect you, but the fluttering of your satin like walls tells a different story. 

“You're not my dealer.” 

“Oh really? I'm not?” 

Pulling out nearly all the way and pushing back in, you bite your lip at the drag against your insides.

“Dealer implies I buy shit. You just give it to me, like a little simp.”

Eddie's mouth drops open in mock outrage.

“You want me to give it to you now? I'll fucking give it to you baby.” 

Hooking an arm under your thigh, Eddie thrusts into you hard and devastatingly deep. And again, and again, until you start moaning wantonly right in his face, all bravado forgotten.

“Yeah? Atta girl. That good baby? Wanna feel me right here?” 

His other hand pushes against your lower stomach, the pressure deepening the pleasure he's giving you tenfold. 

“Oh Eddie, oh fuckfuckfuck!!” 

Your release explodes out of your cunt with a gush, liquid spurting out of you so hard you nearly force his impressive length out. It waves drastically, like the sea against the shore, washing and washing over you until it's hard to breathe. 

“Baby, baby! Holy shit, I think you squirted.” 

“Ya think? My God, that was… mind blowing.” 

“Yeah?” 

Looking up at him, you expect that arrogant grin, but he just looks pleased and innocent. Like a kid at Christmas. 

“Yeah, fuck yeah.”

Rolling him over with all the power left in your thighs, you pin him down and move firmly into him, ferality taking over your actions. 

“Jesus Christ, you are a dirty girl, aren't you?” 

“Maybe just a little.” 

Smirking, you hump against him, your swollen clit bumping against his pubic bone on each delicious pass. 

“Holy shit, I'm not complaining- fuck, what the- what are you doing? Jesus Christ!” 

You bounce hard on him. Seeing him writhe under you is a special kind of power, one you aren't willing to let go of. Ever.

“Fuck, b-baby girl, you're gonna make me come!” 

His intense moans spur you on further. Unable to bounce so much on shaky knees you snuggle down close to him, arms clutching his shoulders, as you grind into him. It's massaging sensations into your clit, as well as teasing your g spot with his imposing length. 

“I can't, I’m-  baby girl-” 

“I'm gonna come, Eddie please, fill me up, I wanna feel it, I wanna feel your cum inside me, please, fuckin’ breed me Eddie. Oh fuck!” 

Quivering against him uncontrollably, your legs give out, collapsing on his body as he tenses and releases inside of you. It spurs your own orgasm, snaking up your spine and gripping on your system like a fly caught in honey. An open mouthed scream is all you give him, silent but chock full of feeling, as your back arches in its own tension. 

As it curls out of you, your back gives up, and you flop forward, bones turned to pudding. 

“Well.” is all that comes out, a puff of a word, just air escaping from a collapsing chest.

“Well.” Eddie responds, waiting for what you're about to say. 

You're sure he doesn't expect it. A laugh bubbles out; a weird, inside laugh, that you probably should never share with anyone. But it keeps coming. And coming. Laughing uncontrollably, you roll off of him and try to get your stomach muscles in check. 

You'd be worried about his reaction, if he wasn't laughing with you. It was this odd mixture of tension and relief that was bursting in the air, a barrier broken and left crumbling at your feet. 

“Eddie. Fuck, Eddie.” 

“Yeah?”

‘Yeah.”

His heated hand found yours, and squeezed your fingers hard. For some reason, it felt more intimate than all of this combined. 

Giggling again, you lean into his chest, fingers dipping up to weave into his hair. 

“Baby girl, you can't just-” 

“What? Pull your hair? Because you like it?” 

Tugging on his hair dramatically, Eddie tosses his head back and groans. 

“Knew it.”

“Yeah, yeah, certified genius. It's like you don't wanna be railed again.” 

Huffing, you pull yourself on top of him again, hardened nipples brushing softly against his flesh. 

“Oh, I think I'll be the one railing you. You wanna make a bet, for next time?” 

Smug grin forgotten, Eddie stares at you in disbelief.

“Next time?” 

“Well, I hope so. Got to be the best I've ever had.” 

Stupid Rick and his stupid strain. 

“Best you've ever had?” 

“Fuck you.” 

“Only if you wanna.” 

The teasing stopped. At least for now. It was pretty clear, your need for each other was outranking any goading you'd been sharing. 

At least for now… 

Taglist (Some permanents, some likely candidates, if you want to be added, jus say the word sweetheart)

@eddiesprincess86 @zestychili @eddiemunsons-missingnipple @roanniom @usedtobecooler @josephquinnsfreckles @mrsjellymunson

[jolalibrary]

be good, be quiet

joel miller x f!reader | joel masterlist

GIF credit to the amazing @perotovar who i adore, and i'm grateful adores me.

summary: bill tells you both you're sleeping in separate rooms when a thunderstorm doesn't allow you to leave. but joel isn't planning on getting any sleep.

wordcount: 3.7k warnings: post outbreak. smut. sneaking around (so to speak). p in v. fingering. joel angst. you riding joel. jo's spelling. praise kink. joel trying to keep you quiet (by sticking his fingers in your mouth). feelings, but joel-feelings.

AN: thanks as always to @thetriumphantpanda for leaving me comments in the document that made me feel less scared about posting. and also to @swiftispunk for being a cheerleader when i threw a snippet at her like a toddler with a drawing.

All unannounced, it rumbles in. Creeping in, bringing clouds that snuff light and immense claps of thunder. It’s the kind of storm that has lightning that even the shadows can’t hide from. Makes the house creak, groan—it pleading, weeping in its persistence to stand up straight and not cower.

It’s also the only reason the two of you are allowed to stay.

Joel hears the whispers, tuned in until they grow into near shouts in a room next to the one you and him are standing in. If you’re listening, you make no effort to show it—head turned, staring out as the rain thrashes down, eyes following certain droplets as they run down the pane.

Honestly, he doesn’t even want to fucking stay.

Had folded his arms to indicate as such when it was suggested. But, as he stares at you, he knows he doesn’t want you in it—recalling not all that long ago when you had shivered for days. You’d barely been able to speak full sentences as you remained curled in a ball he couldn’t unfurl, all cold to the touch, clinging to him as your teeth rattled in your skull.

It’s the only reason he’s grateful Frank forces Bill’s hand. His tongue piercing, delivering a fine—all razor-like, cutting, his voice booming that the two of you were to sleep in separate rooms.

He could have argued, could have glared, tilted his head—he didn’t. Not as the house shook with another crack of thunder, an idea sprouting, digging itself deep and blooming out across the wasteland living inside of him.

It’s why he plays along. Taking the fresh clothes, the offering of a shower, bidding you a goodnight loud enough for them to hear downstairs, a kiss to your cheek to sign it—burying a smirk under it all.

The whim pulsating, throbbing under his skin—not doused by the cooling temperature of the shower or his hand gripping the base of his half-hard cock. Memories, tinged with blackened edges brimming as he steps from the steam, thinking, ticking—

Waiting.

Waiting for the house to go mute in between the cries of the weather.

Waiting to strike, to prowl—a champion at it, awarded best in class.

Then, he tires from it.

Throwing the covers back, the soles of his feet meet the wood on the thunder. The ticking clock in the corner syncs with his racing heart, desperate to be quiet, maintain mouse-like footsteps, careful—as silent as he is when he moves through buildings that screech and click.

The door you’re behind is at the end of the hallway—shut, closed. A metaphorical do not disturb struck across it from the glare the two of you had been given before Bill had shrunk off to bed.

He didn’t care, not as the drops of water dripped from his hair down his neck, sliding under the fabric that didn’t belong to him. Fingers reaching out for the door handle, all set to twist, when it opens, metal pulled away from him—draping him and the dull flowered carpet in warm orange.

“Jo—“

He’s quick, hand smothering your exclamation, muffling your words. Covering them with his palm, enjoying how soft your skin feels even under it, as he raises his other hand, finger to his mouth—escorted by a glare, a silent order—before dropping it to your hips, grabbing, digging into you as he begins to walk you backwards. You move easily with him, pressing yourself flush to him, all trusting, reading him like a damn book.

“Were y’coming to find me?”

It leaves his tongue in a rasp.

And the look you give him makes his cock even harder than it already had been. Reminding him he’s too worn, too old to be doing shit like this—but fuck does he want to. Lay there, thinking of only you. Mind lost out at sea, bobbing along gentle waves of how you feel wrapped around him, that whimper you make when he flattens his palm to your spine, slides in, fills you, hips flush with yours.

You’re good, because you nod, no words—not making another noise. Your hand slips past him, shutting the door as your chest remains flush with his—the door happy, gleeful to return to its frame. He slides his hand from your mouth, moving to wrap it around the back of your neck, your chin tilted up without so much as a request.

Then, you smile, soft, almost innocent. But he knows you’re no angel—you’re something carved from molten and destruction, but fuck are you pretty. The kind that leaves an outline on the back of his eyelids. The kind that he suspects would turn heads, if you didn’t look like you wished to disembowel them for even looking. Plus, you’re always with him, eyes on him, enamoured, enchanted—

You shouldn't.

Not when he’s poison, slowly feeding you with drops—rotting your insides and blackening your soul. Watching you slowly being made in the shape of his past, carved, narrative rewritten and a future fading, before you get to live it, because of his company. A price scratched against your name.

But, you chose him—leave a mark, Miller. And he did, does. He paints himself on your spine, ropes of white whenever he can; he makes the juncture between your thighs slick with the mess he makes of you. More you whine, and that’s when it changed. When it became less about mindless distraction and more about possession, care, something else fucking entirely—

He pulls your ear to his mouth, your body relaxing, going limp—catching the scent of freshly washed skin. “Ima need you to be a good girl and be quiet. Can y’do that?”

Joel catches the smirk before you blink it away. Your teeth digging into your lip, nodding, catching the reflection of him as lightning floods the room—a sight that undoes him, affects him even though he’ll never show it. Because how much you want him scares him, makes him feel something other than numb, muted grief and disgrace.

The two of you don’t kiss, but he ghosts his lips over yours all the same. Something about the room makes it more intimate, romantic, normal.

“Not like you to break the rules.”

You snort, fingers knotting in his still-damp hair. “Well, I’m sure it’s equally not gentleman-like to sneak into a lady’s room.”

He grunts, and buries it in the back of his throat. Your tongue forces his hand, making him tug on the borrowed PJ bottoms you’re wearing. Palm flattening under the fabric covering your chest, resting it on your stomach, pausing, briefly feeling your heart beating, proof it isn't a fantasy, a dream, before sliding it down.

That’s when he focuses, basks in the feeling of nothing but the softness of your skin and the stories etched into it from surviving, from living. His fingers inching under the elastic and string, your eyes aflame, an inferno, and he wants you to burn him. Singe yourself into him, leave a mark, make it hurt.

“Stopped being a gentleman a while ago, honey.”

You’re wet. A truth two of his fingers feel, sliding them into your heat, suddenly enveloped by nothing but warmth and the sweet rose scent of the soap you washed your skin in. And it’s a comfort, eyes transfixed, all in awe as he watches you try to hold back a gasp—enjoying the way your nails dig into his neck, lashes fluttering and how you part your lips in a silent moan. He can make out what you’re saying is Joel. Each letter inscribed, even in a muted whisper. J-O-E-L.

He already decides he misses the way you sound. A new craving, a new need to make you sing—make your body break out into music, remind him how sweet something can sound when the world is nothing but grievous behaviour and murder.

It’s why he likes when your back is pressed to his chest, knees sore as he pistons in and out of you on the shitty mattress in the shitty room back in the QZ.

Because you can be loud, unfiltered.

There is no need to muffle back how good it feels what he’s doing to you, you can be unhinged, hiss his name, moan through gritted teeth if you’re trying to punish him. He hears them all the same, collects them. Stores them, and uses them to keep the last shard of him intact from all the loss and survival—the part of him he occasionally shows you. Usually in the dark, more morning than night, your chest flush to his back, not asleep, but not fully awake.

But, he can’t collect them here, can’t risk it here—slowing his movements down, hearing you fight it, struggling, being strangled by the moan you want to let breathe.

“C’mon baby, you know how to be quiet. Y’so good when we’re surrounded by clickers. This is no different.”

Narrowing your eyes, you whimper as the base of his palm catches your bundle of nerves. “You’re not—fuck, Joel—usually doing this when we’re surrounded by clickers.”

The corners of his lips twitch. It slides up into one of his cheeks, making a home there—all temporary, only something you seem to pull from him. “Guess I’ll have to help y’out then, won’t I?”

Your eyes narrow briefly before he does. Snaking two fingers—index and middle—past your lips, pressing down onto your tongue, continuing the movements of his other hand, the one pumping his fingers inside of you, coating himself in you.

He learns, quickly, that the pressure applied to your tongue does little to muffle your moan, but the clap of thunder smothers the rest. The way it bleeds out, shakes everything, allowing you a chance to whimper, whine and moan. Eyes digging into his, begging, pleading—

And, he could watch you for hours like this. At his mercy, hanging on the edge—shimmered with a light sheen of sweat and desperation swirling in your eyes. It’s the only time you’re weak, that you show him you can be vulnerable, soft, your edges smoothed down.

It’s why it takes him by surprise when he feels your tongue swirl around his fingers, sucking on them, staring into his fucking soul like you could repair all it had been through. Fuck he’d let you try when you look at him like that.

“Fuck, you’re filthy,” he groans, sliding his palm from your face, resting it on the wall by your head.

“You’ve fucked me on a forest floor, Joel. Don’t act so surprised.”

He lets you have that one—rewarding you for it. Unable to tear his gaze away when you’re overcome with it, stilling, tensing, clenching around his fingers like a vice as you constrict, breathing laboured, rapid breaths before you slant his name across his lips. Stain it. Bury the gratitude and relief as you slide your tongue past his teeth, worming into another part of him, a place he realises he’s wanted you to own. Wants to swallow it, have you rooted under his skin—

“Get on the bed.”

“No,” you rasp, grasping his wrist from between your thighs, bringing his fingers to your lips, tongue swirling before you release them with a pop. “Floor. Bed creaks.”

Another flash, another rumble—it allowing him to take in the expression spreading over your face. The calm, sleepy edge to your smile, all thanks to him. It sears into his skull, makes a home, and buries into a crevice he’ll never be able to scrape you from.

Least of all when you turn, shedding your clothes without aid—stripping himself as you busy ripping sheets to the floor, pillows scattering, a teenager's sleepover dream strewn across the carpeted floor. One he has you lay down on, sliding his mouth over the parts of you he hasn’t yet touched—lapped and enjoyed. Leaving a trail, a path of desire against your skin, your nails finding a home in his scalp, awarding him with gasps, small medals compared to the trophy of before.

“Wanna go on top,” you mewl, hand on his, pausing his hips from connecting with yours. “Wanna ride you, Joel.”

“Think you can handle it.”

It’s perfectly timed, almost comically, the way lightning sparks through the room—your glare more than sharp, digging into him, spacing out his insides until he’s nothing but bone.

He knows you can, but he likes taunting you. Enjoys the way your eyes lick flames across his skin, that your tone can be curt with him, gaze sharpened, pointing.

Joel likes being under you. Has a fondness for the weight of you on him and how your thighs feel on either side of him. Mostly, he likes what it says—what it gives you. An assurance you never ask for and he can never provide, because he can’t give you much, a lot, anything. He’s not good, kind or soft—he won’t trace three words against your shoulder and fan his hand out over your back as he tells you you’re a tempest on two legs, a thing which takes his breath, makes him crave, makes him want, makes him wish.

“You can do it—can take it, take me.”

“I know,” you bite back, lining the head of him at your slit.

It almost makes him snigger. That fury in you, that little determined flame that won’t ever be doused, becoming an inferno in your indignation. So, he whispers your name, fingers crawling up your neck, watching the space your bodies join as you sink down on him.

And he’s in awe as your pussy swallows him, inch by inch, the lightest hiss from under your breath caressing the air as your hips go flush with his.

“Feel good don’t it?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, eyes closed, head rolled back fingers digging, half-curling into his stomach. “You always feel good, Joel.”

Your velvet wrapped around him, encasing him in warmth, all slick and needy. It tugs at him, and makes him for a moment feel like a man and not a carved-out monster who keeps fighting to live another day, for some reason or another. He supposes you wouldn’t let him have it any other way, would fight him and anyone else tooth and nail on it. You’re fierce like that, a difficult fucking thing he’s come across and now wishes to never lose.

“So big,” you whine in a whisper.

Lit up by the storm. It casts flickering shadows over your breasts over the muscles that contort as you roll your hips—if it lingered longer, he’d have been able to witness how wild your eyes were, how slick it is where the two of you are conjoined. Evidenced ruin, a sight he’d pull up in his mind when he’s alone, and you’re busy, and he pretends his fist is close to how you feel.

“Y’doin’ so well for me.”

Another flash grants him the chance to study your parted lips, the way your lashes hang over your cheek. It’s a sight, a fucking delight. An extra breath of oxygen and an anchor to keep him here all at once. A thing which didn’t cling, but had sunk its nails into him all the same—I’m not letting go, and you’re not going to ask me to.

You never say those words, but they hang—attached to string and bunting, a banner of sorts. One that isn’t wrong. A realisation that feels larger here than at the QZ. Surrounded by ornate white furniture and floral patterns, a room which has remained untouched, unspoiled—almost making him feel like a person he used to know. The one who he occasionally spots in the mirror, hanging back in his reflection.

It fucks with his mind. Makes him relaxed, and unwinds the stress from his bones as he plants his feet on the ground and rocks with you. Enjoys your moans, soft, bitten back but likely screamed in your head.

A thought beating inside him, all closed fists hammering on ribs: because he never thought he’d get attached to someone. Never mind someone who appears so otherworldly, likely created to threaten, but he finds only fascinating. A soul who unlocks things within him, finds a way through cobwebs and vines.

Someone who makes him wonder how passion and despair, adoration and darkness can all exist inside of him. Especially without losing the parts which he needs to live, to protect, to save—while keeping the parts that have you coming back to him.

He’s sure you see it, though. You understand him, having peeled back the layers in time and seen the decay which lives within his chest. You’ve even traced your fingers over his scars, ear close to them, as if they’ll spill all their secrets. Even without answers, you remain by his side.

It’s what makes this time different. So much so, he lifts your hand from his chest, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. All tender, soft. Your eyes twinkle, shimmering with something—lit up again—before he places your hand back and rests his hands on your hips, aiding you, helping you ride him, until he has a better idea, a better thought—

His palms almost lift you off him, just the tip remaining as you hover. Digging his thumb and fingers into your skin, leaving indents he can trace when he catches his breath, and he latches his mouth in the space under your breast. Kissing, drawing a circle with his tongue, before he sucks, nips. Intentionally leaving a flaw, signing his name in a signature only he’ll be able to admire—a piece of evidence that this is real, you’re real. Knowing it will be there in the trek back to the life the two of you live; present when you strip off and change, a blight on otherwise perfection, put there by him—another ruin in your life.

Because you could do better than him. A fact he knows, has put to bed but still occasionally turns over.

I chose you because you don’t expect perfection, you’re happy with just good.

Except, you’re more than good.

Your fingers brush over his cheek, soft, gentle. Far too much of both in his opinion. Then he lowers you back down, pussy taking every inch, the lightest hiss fluttering over him as he stares up at you. Transfixed, lost. Almost able to live a fantasy, allow himself to fall into a dreamlike state.

Because this, right in this room, could have been plucked from the world before. It normal, could pretend the two of you were in a room in some inn somewhere or a bedroom the two of you would have built together—hand-chosen ornate furniture and pleasant knick-knacks that adorn surfaces, wooden frames with pictures he could imagine you’d fill if this was real, and not a break in the reality.

“This what you wanted when you were coming t'look f’me?”

He sounds drunk, intoxicated, maybe he is. Having drank from you for so long, he’s more you than he is rotten. He assists you as he snaps his hips to yours, burying the thought in his movements. But, he’s breathing you in—tasting the air tinged with the two of you as you both pant, hunger rearing, desperate, wanting to collide and spark out across nerves, muscles and fucking bone.

Yes, you chant. Yes, yes, yes.

M’close, Joel. So close.

It falls in breathless swirls, a juxtaposition to how tight you are around him, knotting perfectly at the base of him. Sucking him in, keeping him rooted, the head of him finding that spot that makes your body loose and boneless.

“Doin’ so good for me, my good girl.”

So he fucks you harder, uncaring if the floorboards creak, if they protest and shout, he has to. A thing inside of him commanding it. This is all he can give, so give, give, give—

He feels your nails dig, half-moons slicing in—a new scar, one he’ll be thankful to trace. Next is your thighs and muscles tautening. Then, that flutter, the one he seeks, desperate to own, his prize, no one else's.

Mine, mine, fucking mine.

And, distantly, he’s aware he’s the one who pulls you down, but he’ll tell himself later it was you. Trick himself that you required it, even if it was he who needed it. His mouth slanting over yours, clinging to your jaw and cheek, tongue swirling over the moan that is bestowed to him, that hits and fucking pounds into him. Unable to hold on, barely a handful of thrusts before he’s grunting into your mouth, spilling into you, pouring unspoken words to the place between your thighs as you grasp at the tufts of hair on either side of his face.

Something about it makes you taste sweeter. A man like him should never get to experience it now, not this version of him, the act more forbidden, prohibited. It’s what makes him want to spread you out on the floor, lick the expanse between your thighs, taste the two of you—clean you with his mouth and smear you across his face until he’s dyed with the two of you.

Instead, he grasps you close when you collapse against his heaving chest. Palm, all rough, blotched with death, pressing against your cheek as he kisses you. Knowing he should get up and clean himself from between your legs; knowing he should go back to his room.

But he wants to remain on the floor. Enjoying this, whatever the fuck it is. Hand stroking your arm, your fingers drawing shapes as your mouth parts from him, flicking a warmer gaze over him, before lying on his chest.

Stay. Because of the storm.

It’s barely that, just droplets of rain occasionally kissing the glass of the windows.

But in his head, he wants to pretend a little longer. Live in some make-believe land that this is your two’s house, he found it—safety, built ease into your muscles, allowed the callouses to rid from clutching weapons you shouldn’t know how to use. That it’s just a night where the two of you can’t sleep, rather than it being a night where the two of you just feel safe.

“Sure,” he replies in a gruff. “F’the storm.”

Sighing in contentment, rather than annoyance, even if he knows there’s so much suspended in the air—words not spoken or shared.

He almost thinks he could. Almost thinks the moment calls for it—a little whisper, a selection of perfectly chosen words that would wrap you in the knowledge you mean something to him.

But, he thinks you know.

Hopes it, anyway.

AN: shout out to G, who had to listen to me ramble about this two months ago. i hope, once you read this, it's worth the wait.

[artbyblastweave]

So In the original X-Men comic where Magneto appeared, before any kind of civil rights metaphor was a glimmer in anyone's eye, he was doing a fairly unnuanced "Bow-before-me" routine, seizing control of nuclear missiles because he was a supervillain and that's what you do. In the original Ultimate X-Men by Mark Millar they reproduced that basic dynamic in the first six-issue arc (although not with nuclear missiles, but something equally high-collateral and terroristic.) He had much more of an express ideology there- a very simplistic 2edgy4me blanket misanthropy about humans, tinged with malthusian ecoterrorist vibes- in a way that harkened back to the cartoonish completely unsympathetic and unnuanced silver-age faire while also gesturing in the direction of a guy with enough of a party line to build a global cult following around. This was deliberately incompatible with an eventual claremontian face-turn but it was something.

Anyway I think a lot of people want Magneto to be a hero or at least an anti-hero these days (understandable, he has a very cool helmet) and so for a while I've been thinking about how and if you could hybridize all these beats. I think it's doable. I think you could build a version of Magneto where him stealing a bunch of nuclear missiles from the government is framed as basically morally neutral at worst, honestly kind of a lateral move, where it's more about not letting toddlers touch the hot stove. Magneto who's magneto less out of identitarian mutant supremacy and more in a way where he's exhausted with the human condition and fully convinced that the only way the children are going to stop stealing each other's lunch money is if someone with the requisite power (I.E. him) makes them stop. (In a way that functionally wraps back around to mutant supremacy, but that's not the explicit party line). A guy who'd intervene in the same way Daredevil or Spider-Man would if he saw someone getting mugged or threatened, who then immediately turns around and bloodlessly steals an entire bank vault to fund his asteroid house, because he's not about to take a moral lecture on the sanctity of property from fucking Goldman-Sachs. A guy who's pissed at Xavier at least in part because if he had globe-spanning psychic powers the world certainly wouldn't still look like this. Do you see my vision.

[alyrasturnz]

pls write something ab matt having rly rly insane baby fever and so y/n does smth ab it

what i mean by that is she throws her birth control out and maybe she tells him that shes pregnant on his bday

BABY FEVER

❐ summary » matt's overwhelming desire to start a family becomes the central theme. his baby fever has been a constant, gentle pressure, a dream he's nurtured for what feels like forever.

❐ pairings » husband!matt x fem!reader

❐ warnings » pregnancy

❐ a/n && w/c » guys im lowkey slacking! • 1.72k

your fingers were delicately intertwined with matt's as you strolled down the sidewalk together, your head resting gently on his shoulder. his voice flowed like a soothing river, weaving through tales of dreams, aspirations, and the little wonders of life. the world around you seemed to blur, leaving only the warmth of his presence and the melody of his words.

but then he halted mid-sentence and came to an abrupt stop, his gaze shifting intently to his side. you lifted your head from his shoulder, confusion painting your features as you looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to decipher the sudden change in his demeanor.

"matt?" you murmur, your eyes darting around in search of the unseen. finally, your gaze follows his, and you discern what had captured his attention so profoundly.

toddler giggles echoed through the air, a symphony of youthful exuberance from the playground. they ran around with boundless energy, while matt stood there, silently observing them with a wistful smile.

you let out a soft chuckle, your laughter mingling with the gentle breeze, before continuing your walk. matt followed in your footsteps, his hand still entwined with yours, though he lingered slightly behind, as if lost in a moment of quiet reflection.

"matt, c’mon," you urged gently. his head remained turned towards the playground, where the toddlers' laughter and play held his attention captive.

he then looked at you and halted in his tracks once more, a pout forming on his lips. "but they’re so cute," he protested, his eyes pleading with a childlike innocence.

you giggled, a smile unfurling across your features as your thumb traced gentle circles over his knuckles, a tender gesture that spoke volumes without words.

"I know they are, but we have some errands to run!" you say, your tone a mix of understanding and urgency. matt lets out a groan, his shoulders slumping in reluctant acknowledgment.

"okay, fine," he says, drawing out the words with a hint of reluctance, as you continue to walk, the rhythm of your steps echoing in the quiet air.

»--•--«

"okay, so we just need eggs and—" you begin, abruptly stopping mid-sentence as you lower your list and glance around. "matt?" you call out, your voice tinged with confusion as you roll the shopping cart forward, scanning the aisles in search of him.

you then halt in your tracks, your gaze settling upon matt, who stands in the baby aisle, his attention captivated by the delicate array of baby clothes.

you stood and observed as he meticulously sorted through the baby clothes, a growing stack of tiny garments already cradled in his arms.

he turned his gaze and caught yours, a moment of silent understanding passing between you, before he immediately began walking towards you.

"baby, look!" he exclaimed with cheerful enthusiasm, his face illuminated by the brightest smile as he presented the tiny clothes to you. "these are absolutely adorable!"

you chuckled softly, shaking your head in mild amusement. "matt, we don't even have a baby yet," you reminded him gently, though a smile played on your lips, unable to resist his infectious enthusiasm.

he looked at you with wide, hopeful eyes filled with a childlike wonder. "but we could, right? i mean, just look at these!" he exclaimed, holding up a tiny onesie adorned with a playful pattern, his excitement practically tangible.

you sighed, a blend of amusement and affection washing over you. "okay, let's finish our shopping first," you said, taking his arm and gently guiding him back to the cart. "then we can discuss this baby fever you've got going on."

»--•--«

a month later..

you bit your lip, the weight of anticipation heavy as you anxiously awaited the result of the pregnancy test resting on the bathroom sink.

your eyes darted nervously toward your phone, your heart pounding with an intensity that seemed to echo in the silence.

matt has been consumed by an unrelenting baby fever for months on end now, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him.

your eyes then darted to the bin on the floor, where your birth control pills lay discarded, a silent testament to the choices you had made.

you didn't reveal to him that you had surreptitiously discarded your birth control pills, a secret kept close to your heart.

you have been experiencing signs and symptoms for the past two weeks, and to say you were petrified would be an understatement.

then, your phone alarm rang, abruptly shattering the trance that had momentarily enveloped you.

you exhaled a tremulous breath, your hand trembling as it reached for the pregnancy test, your gaze lifting with trepidation, dreading the revelation that awaited.

then, you cast your gaze downward, your eyes widening in astonishment as a gasp escaped your lips.

positive.

your eyes brimmed with tears of joy, your hand instinctively rising to cover your mouth in an attempt to stifle the overwhelming emotions.

"babe! you okay in there?" matt asked from the other side, his voice muffled yet filled with concern as he pressed his ear against the door, straining to catch any sound that might hint at your condition.

your eyes widened in astonishment, and with a swift motion, you wiped away your tears, hastily tucking the pregnancy test into your pocket in an attempt to conceal it.

he remained oblivious to the entirety of the situation, unaware of the unfolding events and the secrets they held.

you opened the door, revealing matt standing there with an empathetic expression etched across his face, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what lay hidden within.

“you’re still feeling unwell?” matt inquired, his voice laced with concern, as you responded with a solemn nod.

he frowned, drawing you into a tender embrace, his hand gently tracing soothing circles on your back.

“you should really get that checked out,” he said softly, his eyes narrowing with worry as he gently placed a hand on your shoulder, his touch both comforting and urging you to take care.

“yeah… i should,” you replied, your voice barely more than a whisper. you rested your chin on his shoulder, savoring the fleeting comfort before slowly extricating yourself from the embrace, your movements deliberate and lingering.

»--•--«

you had orchestrated this meticulously. it had been a few days since you discovered the news, and in that time, you had scoured every nook and cranny, searching high and low for the baby clothes matt had stumbled upon in the store.

they had just arrived today, a serendipitous timing that couldn't have been more perfect, as it coincided with his birthday.

you had meticulously wrapped it all up in a box—the baby clothes, the pregnancy test, everything. a delicate bow adorned the top, adding a touch of elegance to the carefully curated surprise.

you entered his room, where he sat ensconced in his chair, fingers dancing across the keyboard as he typed diligently in a google doc.

"you working?" you whisper softly, your voice barely a murmur that startled matt slightly, causing him to turn his gaze from the screen to look at you, curiosity and mild surprise etched on his face.

"yeah," he nodded. you closed the door behind you, and matt's eyes landed on the present in your hands. "that for me?" he asked, spinning his chair to face you, a glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

"mhm," you hum, extending it towards him with a smile. "open it," you say, your voice brimming with joyful anticipation.

"you shouldn't have," matt chuckled, a soft laugh escaping his lips as a mixture of gratitude and amusement danced in his eyes.

"matttt!" you exclaim, extending the gift even further towards him, your voice filled with playful insistence and excitement.

"okay, okay," he says with a chuckle. matt took the box, curiosity lighting up his eyes. he carefully untied the bow and lifted the lid. his eyes widened in astonishment as he saw the tiny baby clothes nestled within, followed by the unmistakable sight of a positive pregnancy test.

"are you serious?" he whispered, his voice quivering with a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion.

"i am," you replied, a warm smile spreading across your face, your eyes shimmering with the joy of the moment.

he looked up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, his voice trembling with confusion and wonder. "but i thought you were on birth control?"

you bit your lip, trying to contain your laughter. "i am. maybe it's fate," you said, a mischievous glint in your eye, fully aware that you'd discarded it because of his insatiable baby fever.

matt pulled you into his arms, his embrace warm and secure, holding you tight as if he never wanted to let go. "this is the best surprise ever," he murmured into your hair, his breath tickling your scalp. 

he pulled back slightly, his hands gently cupping your face, and looked deep into your eyes with a mixture of awe and joy. "i can't believe it. we're going to be parents! i've longed for this moment for so long."

you smiled, feeling tears of joy welling up in your own eyes, the weight of the moment settling in your heart. "i know, matt. i know," you whispered, your voice trembling with emotion, each word carrying the depth of your shared dreams and hopes.

he kissed you gently, his lips lingering with tenderness before pulling you back into his embrace, enveloping you in warmth and security. "i promise, i'm going to be the best dad," he vowed, his voice filled with earnest determination. "i'll take care of you both."

you rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his love envelop you like a comforting blanket. "i have no doubt about that," you whispered softly, your voice barely audible yet filled with unwavering confidence and trust.

matt chuckled softly, his breath warm against your ear as he held you close. "i can't wait to start this journey with you," he murmured, his voice tinged with excitement and gratitude. "thank you for making my dream come true. you've given me a gift beyond words."

you closed your eyes, savoring the moment as it etched itself into your memory. "it's our dream, matt," you murmured, your voice filled with a quiet reverence. "and it's just the beginning.”

taglist — @imwetforyourmom @meatballzerz69 @pinkishpearls @bandanamatt @thedangerousalleyway @muchloveforhacker @frozenpeanutbutterr @jetaimevous @everleiqh @conspiracy-ash @ifwdominicfike @blahbel668 @slutforsturnioloss @realuvrrr @sturnobsessedwh0re @cerismo @zainabthescientist @sarosfilms

[velvetydream]

꒰ : 🌸 [ Second Times ] ”♡ᵎ꒱ˀˀ ↷ ⋯

Summary : Eunhee was by now over three years old and a little darling, so how would San react to a little suprise?

Pairing : Dad! San x Mom! Fem! Pregnant! Reader

Word count : 3.4K Words

Genre : Fluff, Angst if you squint

Warnings ➵ Reader is a bit nervous of Sans

reaction, but Ateez helps her

a/n : Decided to write this as a little warm up right now to continue Barista! Yunho and the Pirate Story!💜

┌───────────────────────── ·  ·  ·  · ♡

Clutching the small pen-like test in your hand, the two lines smiling brightly back at you. It's just been over a month since Eunhees third birthday and here you're sitting on the edge of the tube, holding the test in your hands. Tears rimmed your eyes. Were they from sadness? Not really, maybe a tinge of anxiety of Sans's reaction to a second pregnancy, but they were more like tears of happiness. San never mentioned any aversion to a second child, so you were happy about this.

Your hand softly rubbing over your stomach now, it's probably barely been a few weeks, but knowing you're carrying a child of San yet again, makes you feel nothing but warmth and happiness. Taking the test, you quickly rush into the bedroom, hiding the test somewhere in your things, so well that San nor Eunhee would ever find it, before joining your two favorite people in the living room again. San was lying on the floor, legs straight up into the air as he balanced Eunhee on his feet playing airplane. Her little giggles sound through the whole room and make you smile before she looks up and screeches upon seeing you. "Mommy!" Being let down carefully, she quickly runs over to you, hugging your legs tightly as she grins up to you.

"Having fun?" You ruffle her dark hair softly, bending down to pick her up and hold her on your hip, she has grown a lot recently. "Yeah! Daddy said we'll visit the uncles this weekend for dinner!" Her tiny arms are around your neck now to hold on for support as she tells you smiling. "Oh really? Then we'll have to make you look extra pretty hm? Want all of them swoon over how cute you are!" Softly poking her tummy now as she lets out giggles while kicking her feet now. Setting her down now she rushes over to San again who is sitting cross-legged on the floor, watching the endearing moment now.

"Are you two fine? I wanted to go out for a bit and get some chores done." Walking over to them, you crouch down placing a soft kiss on both of their cheeks. "Daddy got it all handled no worries!" San told you, he really was an amazing dad, he loved his little girl so much. After saying goodbye to them, you grab your purse and leave the apartment smiling with a plan.

The first stop is the printer shop, which takes on orders for personalized clothes. Entering you take a quick look around, before spotting the old man working there. "Good day!" You greet him, making him notice you and greet you back. "I need seven Shirts for man and one for a toddler, the big ones should have something along the lines of 'We'll be uncles again soon' and the little one 'I'll be a big sister soon'" You explain to the man, his eyes light up upon hearing your instructions, congratulating you. He said it would be done in around three days which was perfect timing, just done before the dinner with everyone.

Leaving the shop with a thank you, you make your way to the grocery store to cover up that your chores at hand were to get a few items there in case San asked you what you did.

Coming back home your eyes immediately catch San lying on the couch sleeping, with Eunhee on his chest also fast asleep. Putting the groceries you got away, before walking over to your little family, watching them for a few seconds. It was exciting how soon you'd be a little family of four.. five. Looking down at the cat moving around your feet now, slowly patting Byeols head. Scoping Eunhee up into your arms now, you softly wake up San. "Baby, let's go to bed, you got a schedule and need to sleep in a proper bed." After making sure San would go to bed, you bring Eunhee to her room. She just recently got it done, everyone of Ateez helped along, some put together the furniture, and others painted the walls. It was adorable how dear your little daughter was to everyone.

Laying her down now, you put the blanket over her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Turning on her bed light now, before leaving the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Walking into your shared bedroom now, San was lying on his side waiting for you, typing away on his phone mindlessly. "She's sound asleep, I still left the door a bit open in case she has a nightmare again. I'm a bit worried she's been having them more often lately." You talk to him while getting changed, before laying down beside him, resting your head on his chest. "Don't worry it's normal, her brain is starting to understand and notice more things, it's normal for her to process more in her dreams and therefore get a few more nightmares, it'll settle down again baby." His hand was running through your hair mindlessly now, pressing a kiss to your temple, before closing his eyes, ready to fall asleep.

The next few days went by quickly, Eunhee though was getting a bit more restless, even sleeping in your and Sans's bed the last two nights. Waking up this Friday now you look down at her, noticing how there is a sheen layer of sweat on her forehead and her cheeks are pink. Laying your hand on her forehead now, she was burning up, oh my poor baby you thought. Getting up quietly, San was already gone for work. You quickly get a pair of new clothes, before making her a quick breakfast so she can take some fever medicine, taking along a bottle of water for her. Just as you were picking everything up, your poor baby started crying and calling for you. Rushing into the room, you place everything on the nightstand now before scoping her up in your arms, softly swaying her side to side a bit as her tiny body clutches herself to you.

"It's okay baby, mommy is here, mommy just got you some things that will make you feel better again soon.." Whispering soft words as her cries didn't seem to stop. Probably from feeling unwell and waking up alone. You wish San was here right now, speaking of the devil as your phone starts ringing, picking up and hold it to your ear. "Hello baby.." You greet him, still hushing your daughter as she slowly starts to calm down. "Is Eunhee crying? Is everything okay? Should I come home?" Worry seeped from his voice upon hearing his little princess cry so harshly. "No don't, I got this. She's running a little fever so I don't think she'll be able to come along tomorrow, I'll give her some medicine now and then rest with her." You explain to them, hearing Wooyoung cooe sadly in the background, you were probably on speaker right now. "Okay, if you need anything or need me to come home call me, I'll make it work!" He assures you before ending the call, Eunhees cries quieted down now.

"Let's get something in your tummy so you can take your medicine hm?" You helped her sit on the bed, before helping her eat, but she still insisted that she could eat alone. Giving the medicine to her now, you were glad she never put up a fight when it came to this, before handing her, her water bottle. "You'll feel better soon baby, just rest, do you want something from your room?" Patting her head softly she shakes her head and only points to the TV in your room. Turning it on, she immediately points to one of the new Wanteez episodes that recently came out making you smile turning it on for her. Byeol has settled down on her lap by now, as Eunhee munches on the fruits you brought her.

"Mommy will be in the kitchen yeah? I'll make some soup for you for later." She simply nods, too engrossed in the show watching her dad and uncles be silly. Standing up now, you get changed into some home attire before moving to the kitchen, writing one of your close friends to please pick up your order from the shop, as you won't be able to do it today with Eunhee having a fever. Getting started on the soup now, before moving on the cleaning a bit, checking up on Eunhee every now and then, she at some point falling asleep cuddling Byeol, before waking up again hungry and then continuing to watch the show.

At some point at noon, your friend brought your order, asking what it was as the old man didn't tell her, telling her she'd know soon and that it was a secret for now, before handing her a little thank you for helping you out. Hiding the bag now as San would soon be home and you didn't wanna spoil the surprise.

"Welcome home darling!" You shout from the bedroom, sitting beside Eunhee now as you two watch a Barbie movie, her eyes immediately moving to the opening door. "Daddy! You're home!" Moving to get up, she stumbles a bit before running up to her dad who picks her up, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. "How is my baby doing hm? Feeling better?" She nodded, even though she was still feeling unwell, the fever down a little bit due to the medicine. "How about you and Daddy spend an amazing day tomorrow hm? I'll get those amazing little cakes for you from across the street." Sitting down with her on his lap, he leans against the headboard, the movie long forgotten as she nods. "Don't you wanna go to the dinner tomorrow?" Your eyes but his now as he shakes his head. "You took care of her the whole day, the first day is always the worst for a fever, I'll take over tomorrow and you go to the dinner, the boys will still be happy to see you," San explains making you nod and agree, this was actually perfect, that way you could give the boys their little presents first before planning to tell San.

So the next day came, you got ready for the dinner, before grabbing your purse and the bag with the shirts, saying goodbye to them before leaving for the restaurant.

"Y/N! We're here!" You hear Wooyoungs voice call out to you from one of the private rooms in the back, making you smile as you join them. "Hello everyone!" You greet the seven men, making them smile at you as you take a seat beside Jongho and Wooyoung. "How is Eunhee doing? San mentioned she had a fever? Poor thing.." Seonghwa asks you making you nod, telling them she was doing a bit better right now and how she was probably enjoying those little cakes right now San got them while you were still at home so Eunhee wouldn't be left unsupervised.

"So actually I'm rather glad San stayed at home today, that way I can give you guys this." Standing up now, you place the bag on the table before handing out the neatly wrapped shirts. Mingi and Yunho first as they had the biggest size, before continuing, instructing them to wait with opening till everyone had theirs. "Okay! I hope you guys will like this.. You can open now." Some were neatly opening the package like Seonghwa, while others ripped them open like Mingi and Wooyoung. Watching each boy look at the writing on the shirt now, mostly with big eyes, before Wooyoung springs up. "I'LL BE AN UNCLE AGAIN?!" His eyes were full of tears as he looked at you, nodding softly before being pulled into a tight hug. "Congrats dear, if you need any help from us tell us." Seonghwa was the next to speak up, hugging you tightly. Before Mingi approached you, being visibly excited about the news, softly jumping a little bit before hugging you tightly and even lifting you up slightly, making Jongho scream at him to be careful with you two. This made tears prick your eyes. "Jongho.." You softly whimper, laying your arms around the man, who seems to be unsure if he wants to accept but has no real choice, in the end, he places his arms around you carefully. Everyone else told you their congratulations and hugged you.

"So the plan is, I'd like all of you to wear these next Monday, I'll come around with Eunhee, she has her own shirt, before San arrives and that's how I want him to find out!" Everyone cheers now, liking the idea, looking over to Hongjoong now for his approval. "I like that idea, let's do it." He nods now, you were glad he was so supportive. The first time he was rather unsure of the pregnancy, of how the fans and society would react, but the moment he held Eunhee for the first time it was all over, he was absolutely smitten for the little girl like everyone else of them was.

"Do you hope for a boy or girl?" Yunho speaks up now looking over at you. "Honestly I don't care, I'd love him or her unconditionally either way." You smile softly, your hand rubbing over your still flat tummy, knowing fully well it will be bigger in a few months. The boys nod as they agreed, before the orders finally arrived, enjoying a nice meal with them, laughing and joking around.

It was a nice evening, the boys were talking a lot about how excited they were for the new baby, arguing over who would be the baby's favorite, as Eunhee's favorite uncles were by far Mingi and Yunho since her birth.

The evening soon ended, and they promised to keep quiet till the big reveal as you packed everything together and made your way home, hoping San was fine and that Eunhee was doing a bit better slowly. At home you peek inside the apartment, noticing the TV playing as you take your shoes off and make your way into the living room. "Baby, did daddy fall asleep?" You giggle quietly upon seeing Eunhee sit beside San and watch another Wanteez episode, Sans's arm around her as he was sleeping tightly. The little princess looks up as she hears your voice and nods to your question, as you crouch down in front of her. She probably wasn't tired yet from napping through the whole day, softly feeling her forehead now and sighing relieved feeling her fever down finally.

"Let's get you to bed hm? Did you have fun with Daddy today?" You pick her up, San waking up from the movement, blinking softly as he sits up and watches you carry Eunhee to her room, he luckily had changed her into her sleepwear already in case she was to fall asleep while watching the show. "Mhm.. Daddy showed me the new episode with the uncles.." Getting sleepy slowly, Eunhee rests her head on your shoulder as her arms hang loosely around your neck. "Oh wow, that must have been so exciting, we can watch more of that tomorrow. Let's sleep for now baby." Pressing a kiss to her forehead now as you enter her room, sitting down on her bed and laying her down, before pulling the blanket over her.

Leaving her room after taking one last look at her and joining San in the bedroom, watching him fight to stay awake waiting for you. "Sannie sleep if you're tired." Shaking his head, he mumbles a little tiredly watching you change out of your clothes and into one of his shirts to sleep, before laying down beside him. Opening your arms, he immediately scoots over, his arms wrapping around your waist as his head comes to rest on your chest, softly running your hands through his locks. He had recently dyed them red again, it suited him well.

Sunday went by rather quickly, Eunhee was better again, playing around with San and Byeol, helping you cook, and watching another Ateez show again.

So Monday came around, you got up quite early and got ready, making sure you packed Eunhees shirt and the pregnancy test, San looking at you confused still half asleep as you finished getting ready. "I'll visit Lotte World with Eunhee today, I promised her." Pressing a soft kiss to your husband's temple as he nods, a little bit sad he can't join due to work before you leave the room getting Eunhee ready now.

"Where are we going?" Eunhee looked at you curiously, her tiny arms holding onto your neck, her tiny legs kicking a little bit as you walked along the sidewalk in the direction of KQ. "We'll visit the uncles and prepare a little surprise for Daddy." Her eyes light up upon hearing that there will be a surprise for her daddy.. or because she'll see her uncles. Entering the elevator you press the floor of the practice room and let Eunhee stand on her own now, taking her hand as you lead her to the dance practice room. "Yuyu!!" Eunhees high voice screeches upon seeing the tall man, everyone turning to the two of you as Eunhee runs up to Yunho who immediately picks her up. "Hello little princess!" Yunho beams at her, he was always so sweet to her, often being the one to offer to watch her for a weekend or evening when you and San wanted to spend some romantic time.

"Eunhee darling come here for a second." Yunho sets her down again as you sit down on the floor, softly taking her hands when she reaches you. "What do you think about being a big sister hm? Would you like that?" She thinks for a second, looking at you nodding slowly. "If I stay Uncle Yuyu and Uncle Min's favorite!" She answers, making everyone laugh and Mingi cooe at her answer. "You'll always stay my favorite baby!" Mingi calls over, making you smile. "But yes.. I'd like to be a big sister!" She beams at you, making tears rim your eyes as you pull her into a hug, she has grown so much. "You'll soon be a big sis baby." You tell her, making her giggle and smile. Soon she was wearing her personalized shirt along with all of her uncles, Yunho holding the little girl in his arms right now.

"Okay, San should be here soon! I'll wait for him outside and then bring him inside!" Rushing outside the room, you close the door, looking around for your husband. After around ten minutes he finally arrived, looking at you confused. "Darling? I thought you and Eunhee were at Lotte? Where is she? Is she okay?" He looks around for his little princess worried now. "She is with the boys right now, you have to put this on though!" Holding up the blindfold now, he grows even more confused but lets you put it over his eyes. "I'm a bit scared, but I'll trust you." He tells you, taking your hand softly as you lead him into the room.

Taking one last deep breath, before taking off Sans's blindfold. It takes a few seconds for his eyes to get used to the lights, as he now looks at his fellow members and little princess, at first not noticing the shirts, but after ready them a few times his eyes grow wide as he now looks over to you, who was now holding the positive pregnancy test. "This isn't a joke, right? Are we getting another child? You're pregnant again?" His bag lying on the floor now as he looks at you with tears in his eyes and a big smile on his lips. "Yes, I wanted to surprise you." Your own tears in your eyes now, as San pulls you into a tight hug, picking you up and spinning you around laughing. "I'll be a dad again!" He giggles as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. "I love you so much." Laying his forehead onto your forehead, before looking down he sees his little girl tug on his pants softly to be picked up. "Who will be the best big sister?! You will be Eunhee!" He smirks at her as he picks her up onto his hip.

Soon everyone joined the hug, San was beaming all over his face. You were glad that he was this happy and excited and how supportive everyone was. This would be a long 8 months again, but you cannot wait to soon hold the new addition to this already big family.

[deathby1000sluts]

"I don't want you to hit me in the face with a grilled cheese"

[p0orbaby]

Would you do a blurb with Leah getting the flu while your on holiday?

i went with stomach flu cause i’ve already done a few colds

TW for mentions of vomit

-

This was not the dream getaway you’d planned. The Maldives had promised pristine beaches, crystal-clear waters, and candlelit dinners. Instead, you’re crouched in the bathroom of your luxury villa, holding Leah’s hair back as she dry-heaves into the toilet.

“Kill me,” she croaks between retches, voice echoing mournfully off the marble tiles.

“You’re not dying, Leah,” you say, even though she looks very much like someone auditioning for a low-budget zombie film. Sweat sticks to her forehead, and her skin is pale with a greenish tinge.

“Feels like I am,” she mutters, slumping against the wall. Her eyes are half-closed, the faint light overhead casting unflattering shadows on her gaunt face.

You pass her the glass of water you’d been holding, which she takes with trembling hands. “Sip, don’t gulp,” you remind her.

“I know how to drink water,” she snaps weakly, then immediately coughs like a toddler who’s just choked on juice.

“Clearly”

You lean back on your heels, surveying the scene. There’s a pile of damp towels in the corner (your failed attempt to mop up earlier mishaps) and an untouched plate of crackers on the sink ledge (your optimistic effort to reintroduce food).

“You’ve ruined my holiday, you know,” you say lightly, breaking the silence.

Her head snaps up, eyes wide with indignation. “Your holiday? I’m the one throwing up my soul here!”

“And I’m the one living with it,” you counter, smirking.

“Wow,” she deadpans, leaning back against the tiles. “Someone call the Vatican, my saintly partner is really showing their true colours”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Sorry, would you like me to write a sonnet about how much I love mopping up sick at 2 a.m.?”

She tries to glare at you but ends up burping instead. You both pause, her face shifting from mortification to panic.

“Bathroom bin,” you say quickly, shoving it into her lap just in time for another round of misery.

By the time she’s done, she’s groaning like an extra in a war film. “If I survive this, I’m never eating shellfish again”

“That’s what you said after your last stomach bug,” you remind her.

“This time I mean it,” she mumbles, slumping sideways until her head rests against your thigh.

You stroke her hair absentmindedly, feeling a flicker of guilt for teasing her earlier. Sure, she’s dramatic, but there’s something endearing about how utterly pitiful she becomes when she’s ill.

After a few minutes, she speaks again, voice muffled against your leg. “You’re going to wash those pyjamas, right?”

You look down at the now-questionable state of your favourite sleepwear and sigh. “You owe me new ones”

She grins faintly, despite everything. “Deal”

[the-offside-rule]

Pablo Gavi (FCBarcelona) - Jealousy Jealousy

Requested: yes

Prompt: Pablo is jealous

Warnings: none

It had been over a year since Y/N and Pablo welcomed their baby boy, Mateo, into the world. Their home was filled with baby giggles, toys scattered across the floor, and the soft coos of a toddler who had become more and more attached to his mother. Mateo was, without a doubt, a mama’s boy. The bond between Y/N and Mateo was unmistakable; he followed her around like a little shadow, arms always reaching out to be held whenever she tried to slip away for even a moment. It had been endearing at first, watching how close they were. But lately, Pablo was starting to feel the weight of it.

As Y/N walked into the living room, carrying Mateo on her hip, Pablo lounged on the couch, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed his son clinging to her yet again. His brow furrowed in mild frustration. "Isn’t he tired of hanging off you all day?" Pablo muttered, crossing his arms as he shifted to face them. Y/N chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from Mateo’s face. "What’s wrong?" she teased, glancing over at Pablo with a grin. "Are you jealous of your baby, Pablo?" Pablo huffed, crossing his arms tighter over his chest. "No, of course not." But the way he avoided her gaze told a different story.

Y/N couldn’t help but laugh a little as she made her way over to the couch, sitting down beside him. Mateo, ever the clingy little boy, squirmed in her arms to settle more comfortably, resting his head on her shoulder. He had been fussy all day, needing constant attention from her, and it was beginning to wear on Pablo’s patience. "Come on, Pablo-" She said, affectionately running her fingers through his hair. "It’s cute, isn’t it? How much he loves his mamá?"

Pablo’s lips twitched as he glanced down at Mateo’s sleepy face before turning back to her. "Yeah, it’s cute." He admitted reluctantly, his voice tinged with frustration. "But it’s just... I barely get any time with you anymore. He’s always in the middle. Whenever we try to do anything, it’s like we’re never alone." Y/N’s teasing smile softened as she looked at him, seeing the weariness behind his words. She understood where he was coming from. Between caring for a one-year-old and balancing everything else, finding time for just the two of them had been a challenge. Mateo, as sweet as he was, had become a little too attached, making it hard to have any real moments of privacy.

"Okay, okay." She said, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I get it. You miss me." She leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. "But you do know how ridiculous it sounds, right? Being jealous of your own son?" Pablo groaned, tilting his head back against the couch, clearly uncomfortable with the situation. "I’m not jealous of him." He protested weakly, though the slight pout on his lips gave him away. Y/N laughed, shaking her head. "You so are. It’s adorable, Pablito."

"Don’t patronize me." He grumbled, though there was no real bite in his tone. Shifting Mateo slightly so he was resting more comfortably on her lap, Y/N gently stroked his back as he started to drift off to sleep. The sight of his tiny, peaceful face made her heart swell. "You know what?" She whispered, turning her attention back to Pablo. "Once he’s asleep, maybe we can have some alone time. I’ll put him in his crib, and we can just have some....alone time. Sound good?" Pablo’s eyes lit up at the suggestion, his lips curving into a genuine smile for the first time in days. "Really?"

"Really." She confirmed with a reassuring nod, placing her hand on his arm. "I’m sure we can figure out a way to balance things. Mateo’s just in that clingy phase, but it won’t last forever." Pablo sighed, some of the tension in his shoulders easing as he looked at her. "I know. It’s just... I miss you. The way things were before he was born." Y/N’s expression softened at his words. "I miss that too." She admitted. "But look at him." She said, nodding toward their sleeping son. "He’s worth it though, right?" A small, fond smile tugged at Pablo’s lips as he looked down at Mateo, his heart swelling with pride and love. "Yeah, he is."

Y/N leaned closer, resting her forehead against Pablo’s, her voice soft and full of affection. "We’ll figure this out together. We always do." Pablo let out a deep breath, his hand gently intertwining with hers. "As long as I get some time with you, I’ll be fine. Even if it means sharing you with him." She smiled, leaning in to press a tender kiss to his lips, savoring the rare moment of closeness without any interruptions. It wasn’t much, but it was a start. As Mateo dozed peacefully in Y/N’s arms and Pablo held her close, they both knew they were navigating the new rhythms of parenthood together, one step at a time. And in that moment, everything felt just right.

[goldfades]

𝐌𝐑𝐒. 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒 ─ PB⁵

౨ৎ ─ summary | request -> "hiii could I request a fic where paige meets your family and she and your toddler nephew end up loving each other and it makes the reader love paige even more 🥺🥺"

─ word count | 2.7k

─ warnings | nothing but absolute fluff, like seriously - sososo cute. parents being super welcoming (r has a sister and brother-in-law, i had to name the characters i hope yall dont mind), lots of banter/teasing, lots of basketball talk, BABY FEVERRRR!!!!!!!!! paige/dad bonding, umm.. nothing else??

─ ev's notes | the chokehold the pic in the middle has on me IS INSANE

"DON'T BE NERVOUS," you smiled reassuringly at your girlfriend, who was currently fixing up her hair in the rearview mirror of her car. "They're gonna love you."

You and Paige had been dating for almost a year now, it'd been pure bliss ─ it was everything you'd hoped for in a relationship and more. You'd never been more fulfilled in your life, and Paige felt the exact same way. As your relationship progressed, you realized that it was the perfect time for her to meet your family.

Paige had become such an integral part of your life, and so was your family ─ meeting them was now a milestone in the relationship, and you were never more excited for someone to meet your family.

As Paige put the finishing touches on her hair, you couldn't help but admire her. She looked beautiful, as always, and you couldn't wait for your family to see just how amazing she was.

Paige sighed nervously as you exchanged glances, yours soft. You reached out, gently touching her hand to reassure her more.

"They're really looking excited to meet you," you said, sincerity evident in your voice. "Trust me, they're going to love you just as much as I do."

Paige flashed a nervous smile, but you could see the hint of excitement behind it. She squeezed your hand gently, drawing comfort from your touch. "I hope so," she replied softly.

With a final check in the mirror, Paige took a deep breath and turned off the ignition. Stepping out of the car, she linked her hand with yours, and together you made your way towards the front door of your family home.

You knocked, and after a few moments, the door swung open to reveal your parents, who greeted you both with warm smiles. "Oh my god, Y/N!" your mother squealed as she pulled you into a hug.

You quickly wrapped your arms around her, engulfing her in a warm hug. Your dad gave you a quick hug before they turned their attention to Paige, a nervous smile on her face as she glanced toward you.

Your mother's eyes lit up as she turned to Paige. "And you must be Paige! It's so lovely to finally meet you," she exclaimed, opening her arms for a hug.

Paige returned the embrace, her tension visibly easing as she felt your family's warmth. "Here I, uh brought some wine."

Your mother's eyes lit up as she took the wine from Paige's hands, letting out a small laugh. "Thank you so much, Paige! That's very thoughtful of you," your mother said, her smile widening as she inspected the bottle of wine. "You didn't have to bring anything, but we'll definitely enjoy this."

Your dad stepped forward, offering Paige a friendly handshake and a smile. Paige returned the handshake, relief evident in her expression.

"I just wanted to make a good impression," she admitted, her cheeks tinged with a hint of pink.

"Well, you've already done that," your dad chimed in, his tone warm. "Anyone who brings wine is definitely welcome in our home."

You and Paige exchanged looks before laughing, your parents joining in after a few seconds.

With that, your family ushered Paige inside, leading her to the cozy living room where the fireplace crackled warmly. The familiar smells of home cooking made Paige relax as she began taking in your home, more specifically ─ the baby photos.

"That's Y/N and her older sister, Marie." Your mother spoke fondly as she saw that Paige was looking. Paige looked back at you with a warm smile.

As your mother pointed to a particularly old photo, Paige's gaze lingered on it, a soft smile tugging at her lips. She turned to you, her eyes reflecting the affection she felt. "You were such a cute kid," she teased gently.

You chuckled, feeling a rush of affection for Paige as you shared a knowing look. "Well, I had good genes to work with," you replied, reaching out to squeeze her hand affectionately.

"Oh! Speaking of babies. Honey, is Jordan coming tonight?" Your mother chirped toward your father, who was currently looking at the old photo album.

Paige glanced toward you with a confused expression before your mother clarified, a small smile on her face. "Jordan is her older sister's kid, he's adorable."

"You're gonna love him," you whispered toward your girlfriend as her smile got even bigger. If there's one thing everyone knows about Paige, she's the best with kids.

Your father nodded toward your mom, a smile on her face. "Oh yes, he is. He loves basketball, too." His eyes lit up as he glanced toward Paige, a grin on his face.

"Dad," you mumbled, an embarrassed tint on your face as he put his hands up in defense. He definitely did his research on Paige and he was going to make sure he used it. "My dad loves basketball-"

"What? You didn't tell me that!" Paige exclaimed as she glanced toward your father, a grin playing on her lips.

You sighed, sharing a glance toward your very amused mother. "Yeah, cause I knew you two were just gonna talk about basketball for the rest of the night."

Your dad chuckled, shooting you a playful wink before turning his attention back to Paige. "When Y/N told me that she was dating a basketball player, I didn't she meant you."

"I remember me and Daniel, you don't know him yet but you'll definitely meet him ─ were talking about you were the future of the WNBA, and the next day I get a call from Y/N, telling me she was dating you, not even joking. Sweetheart, tell her."

"Yes, it's true. I was there," your mother confirmed with a nod as Paige let out a laugh, glancing toward you.

"I was starstruck, if I'm being honest," your father continued as he grinned at Paige. "I woke up the next day and went to the country club, telling all my pals that my daughter is gonna be the future Mrs. Bueckers."

"Hey, who said I'm taking her last name?" You joked as you sent your father a playful glare.

Your father laughed heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Well, you better start getting used to the idea, sweetheart," he teased, his grin widening.

"We actually already talked about this, she is taking my last name." Paige spoke proudly as your father clapped, causing a small laugh from your mother.

You couldn't help but chuckle at the playful banter between your father and Paige. "Looks like you've got it all planned out," you remarked, shooting Paige a fond smile.

Paige grinned, nodding in agreement. "Hey, tradition's tradition,"

Your father clapped his hands together in mock triumph. "That's my girl!" he exclaimed, his eyes shining with pride. "Mrs. Bueckers sounds amazing, just so you know. Also, season tickets... you know anything about those?"

Paige sent your father a cocky nod, as he clapped his hands again. You couldn't help but laugh at your father's enthusiasm, shaking your head in amusement. "Dad, slow down," you teased, shooting him a playful glare.

Paige joined in the laughter, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she exchanged a knowing glance with you. "Well, I do like the sound of Mrs. Bueckers,"

Your father grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I'll take that as a yes," he replied, his grin widening.

Your mother chuckled, shaking her head affectionately at the scene unfolding before her. "Oh goodness, you two are getting too carried away."

Before anyone else could respond, the front door opened to reveal your older sister and her husband, who was holding a toddler. Your sister's arrival drew everyone's attention, and a chorus of greetings filled the room as she and her husband stepped inside, their toddler squirming in his father's arms.

"Oh finally," you exhaled as Paige laughed. "You came at the perfect time, Dad was pimping me out for season tickets."

Paige burst into laughter at your comment, her eyes twinkling with amusement as she glanced at your father, who was trying to stifle his own laughter. "That's not was happening, like at all."

Your sister raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "That sounds like dad," she teased, shooting a knowing glance at your father as you laughed. She met Paige's gaze with a smile as she outstretched her hand. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Marie, Y/N's older sister."

Paige returned Marie's smile warmly, shaking her hand with genuine pleasure. "It's so nice to meet you, Marie," she said, her tone friendly. "Y/N has told me so much about you."

Marie's smile widened at Paige's words, a hint of curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Oh, has she now?" she replied, her tone teasing.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Marie's playful response, shooting Paige an amused glance. "Only good things, I promise," you interjected, earning a laugh from your sister.

Her husband quickly joined the family in the living room, your nephew still holding onto him as he observed the scene in front of him. He gave Paige a quick smile and a nod. "Nice to meet you, Paige. I'm Max,"

Paige returned the smile and nod, her warmth extending to your brother-in-law as well. "It's great to meet you too Max," she replied, her tone friendly.

As your nephew continued to observe the room with wide-eyed curiosity, Paige couldn't help but feel a surge of affection. "Is this Jordan?" she asked, her voice gentle as she directed her attention towards your nephew.

"Yeah, that's him," Max answered, his voice exhausted as you exchanged glances with your sister.

"He gave us a hard time getting here," she laughed as Jordan kept gazing at Paige. Jordan quickly ripped his gaze away, tightening his grip on her father as he looked away. "Aw, he's getting shy. He's probably just as starstruck as Dad,"

Everyone in the room began laughing as Paige shook her head in amusement, feeling a tiny bit cocky knowing that your entire family were practically her biggest fans.

"Dinner's just about to be ready, Marie honey, can you help me set up?" Your mother asked before she quickly shook her head. "Actually, Max, can you help me instead?"

You exchanged a confused look with Marie as she smirked, walking away toward your father as she begun talking with him. Max quickly handed Jordan off to you before he began following your mother toward the kitchen.

Paige's attention was quickly diverted to Jordan, who was slowly turning to look at her once again. Her heart swelled as she looked at the toddler, feeling a rush of affection for the little boy.

"He's so damn cute," she mumbled as she gazed down at him. You looked at your girlfriend, feeling a rush of affection for her as you watched her interact with Jordan.

"You like basketball?" She asks as you rolled your eyes, letting out a small laugh. Of course that'd be the first question she asked.

Jordan began nodding slowly, a small smile on his face. "Yes,"

Paige's eyes lit up with excitement at Jordan's response, and she leaned in closer to him, her smile widening. "That's awesome!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with enthusiasm. "You know, your aunt Y/N is actually dating a really, really cool basketball player."

"Oh shut up," you laughed as she kept looking at the boy, his smile turning into a grin.

"Auntie Y/N," he repeated with a grin as Paige nodded, a proud grin on her face.

"Yeah, that's right!" Paige affirmed with a chuckle, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she glanced at you. "Auntie Y/N is dating a basketball player who's not as cool as you, of course,"

Jordan began laughing as he watched Paige, before he began squeezing his fists toward her. Paige chuckled at Jordan's playful gesture, delighted by his infectious laughter.

"He wants you to hold him, baby. Here, my arm's getting tired." You spoke softly as Paige's smile widened, quickly taking the toddler from your arms.

You watched as Paige continued to engage with Jordan, her warmth and kindness evident in every interaction. With gentle hands, she lifted him up, settling him comfortably in her arms as he giggled.

"There we go," Paige cooed softly, her voice filled with tenderness as she adjusted Jordan's position. "You're such a little sweetheart, aren't you?"

Jordan nodded enthusiastically, his laughter filling the room as he nestled into Paige's embrace. With a contented sigh, he rested his head against her shoulder, his small arms wrapping around her neck in a tight hug.

"Oh my gosh, he loves you so much already." Marie remarked softly as she watched, her expression slightly shocked as you smiled loving toward your girlfriend.

"She just has that effect on people," you said with a warm smile, your gaze filled with pride and affection as you watched Paige and Jordan. "He barely likes me, it's insane how he already loves you."

Marie nodded as she laughed. "Yeah, she's not exaggerating."

"Are we sure we're talking about the same kid?" Paige mumbled as Jordan kept gazing at her, tightening his grip on her with a contented sigh. Paige's heart swelled with affection at Jordan's gesture, and she returned his hug with gentle warmth.

Paige chuckled softly, her heart warmed by Jordan's affectionate embrace. "Looks like I've got a new best friend," she said with a smile, her voice filled with tenderness as she gently stroked Jordan's back.

Jordan nodded eagerly, his eyes shining with joy as he snuggled closer to Paige. "Best friend!" he exclaimed happily, his voice filled with excitement.

Paige laughed as she glanced at you, her gaze adoring as she pulled the toddler closer. Your heart swelled at the sight, feeling your love for Paige somehow triple at the mere sight of her with Jordan.

Paige's ability to connect with others, especially with children, never ceased to amaze you. It was one of the many things you admired about her ─ her kindness, her warmth, and her genuine love for people.

With a fond smile, you reached out to gently tousle Jordan's hair, earning a giggle from the delighted toddler. "Looks like you've got yourself a new best friend," you remarked, your voice filled with affection as you looked at Paige.

Paige grinned, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she nodded in agreement. "Yep, and I couldn't be happier about it," she replied, her voice soft and tender.

As the night came to a close, you and Paige had to say goodbye to your family and head home. Jordan, thankfully, was asleep by the time you'd left because if he wasn't, you're sure he would've rioted. With hugs and promises to see each other soon, you and Paige made your way back to her car, hand in hand.

She pulled you closer into her chest as she grinned, gazing down at you. "I don't think I've ever wanted a baby more, baby."

You glanced up at her with a small smile, feeling your cheeks flare up. "Me neither, I want a baby. Like, right now."

"I know," Paige mumbled as she unlocked the car. You leaned against the car as you pulled her closer, engulfing her lips in a sweet kiss. "I didn't think I'd be leaving your house with a baby fever, but here we are."

You laughed against her lips, the warmth of her laughter mingling with yours as you pulled back slightly, your foreheads touching. "Yeah, well, Jordan does have that effect on people," you joked, your heart filled with love for both Paige and the little boy who had captured her heart.

Paige chuckled softly, her arms wrapping around you as she leaned in to rest her forehead against yours. "I can't wait for the day when we have our own," she murmured, her voice filled with tenderness.

But before you could respond, you suddenly heard a loud toddler scream from inside your home. You and Paige exchanged glances before bursting out in laughter, knowing that Jordan's riot was indeed imminent.

"Well, it looks like we'll have to wait a bit longer for our own toddler," you joked with a chuckle, your heart filled with amusement. She nodded as she laughed, shaking her head as she reluctantly let go of your hand and got into the driver's seat.

With a shared laugh, you both made your way back to the car, the sound of Jordan's screams echoing in the background. As Paige settled into the driver's seat, you joined her, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you.

"You wanna go comfort your new best friend, baby?"

Paige sent you a playful glare as she turned on the car, shaking her head. "I'm good, maybe later."

↳ make sure to check out my navigation or masterlist if you enjoyed! any interaction is greatly appreciated !

↳ thank you for reading all the way through, as always ♡

[notiddygothgf]

Boyfriend | Aki Hayakawa

★ pairings: aki x f!reader

★ synopsis: being aki's favorite girl has many perks.

★ a/n: i couldnt stop thinking about boyfie!aki omfg... brainrot.

★ c.w.: fluff, nicknames, smut(ish). no beta we die like... ahem.

1. He's thoughtful!

Aki is notoriously attentive when it comes to his line of work, but nothing compares to how attentive he is when it comes to you and your needs. He can read you like a book. It's just something about those eyes of yours, something about the way you look at him that tells him all that he needs to know about you -- he's got you all figured out.

When it's a party or a work event, he can see your expression a mile away. You would be perched in the corner, anxiously swirling your drink around. He'd reach an arm around you, pulling you close enough that your shoulders would bump into his chest. "Do you want to leave?" He'd ask. And how could you refuse -- when he made it sound so tempting?

He'll remember little things about you -- the shows you like, your favorite foods, your favorite fabrics to wear. His brain is like a little notepad, full of facts about you. When you're having a particularly, bad day, he'll bring home a container of your favorite soup from the place up the street he knows you love. He'll treat you to trinkets and sweaters (sometimes printed with the name of the last town he visited on the mission, sometimes they were his) and whatever stupid little thing makes him think of you (seriously, he brought you a rock with googly eyes from a gift shop in Shibuya once because, and quote, "It reminds me of you").

He knows your body like the back of his hand; knows where you like being kissed, touched, caressed, held. He knows you like it's second nature, like you're an extension of himself.

2. He can cook

You're grateful for that, considering that if he couldn't cook, the two of you would have been completely fucked. You're about as gifted in the kitchen as a toddler with a wooden spoon.

It's okay though. He doesn't mind. He loves cooking for his pretty girl. Curry, Stews, Rice, Chicken -- whatever your little heart desires (or whatever he's decided is on the menu for tonight). And he's good at it, too. He's got a real talent for cheffing it up. The kind of talent that makes you moan words of praise through mouthfuls of food while you chow down.

"You like it?" He'd ask, a teasing lilt tinging his words.

"Fuckin' perfect," You'd reply, voice muffled by mounds of food. "You got a gift."

He wouldn't have believed it had it come from anyone else. But for you? He would have to make an exception.

He only wished he could make enough for you to take leftovers. With two ravenous roommates, however -- the kind that scarf down just about everything but the plate -- that was kinda hard.

(Still, whenever he could, he would sneak a few extra servings into some containers to give to you.).

3. Super Affectionate

You love it when he comes home to you. You love it when he collapses into your arms and wraps his strong arms around you, swaddling you entirely with his warmth. You love when he takes you out with him -- takes you shopping, takes you on dates, takes you on grocery runs to get a brief moment of peace from his roommates.

Aki is nothing if not proud of his girlfriend. Though usually quite timid and stoic, he has no qualms about claiming you in public. (sometimes in a family bathroom stall, if it's one of those days). He'll walk around with his hand on your lower back, your waist, your hip, your ass -- whatever he can get ahold of to let the world know that you're his.

It's usually you who initiates the PDA. He's the one who runs with it.

It'll start with a kiss to his lips, his jaw, his neck, his nose. That's all it takes for him to be pulling you in for more, suddenly rather careless about who sees the two of you. He'll ask you for a kiss. Then another. Then another. Then one last one (it's a trap).

And you, being the lovestruck idiot that you are, you'll stand up on your tippy toes and give him all of the kisses you can muster.

At work parties, you're never far from him -- never out of his line of sight. He said something about his coworkers being "dogs", but you had yet to experience even a double glance in your direction. Being with Aki was like having a bodyguard.

He loves it the most when you sit on his lap. He'll pull you close to him by the waist, hugging your legs from where he's seated. He'll let you entertain his drunken coworkers for a few minutes, perhaps even a few comments from Denji about your looks, and then he'll tug you down to take a seat where you belong (in his lap. no one else's. his lap).

Your pretty face would flush for a moment, stuttering to find the words to continue what you had been saying. He didn't care about anyone else when you were around -- you made him needy. Still, he would hide his blushing face in your neck, your shoulder. Breathe in the scent of your expensive perfume, the scent of your skin that was so uniquely you.

Baby, he'd call you.

Princess, Mama, Angel face.

He couldn't keep the pet names away. It was what gave your relationship away to everyone to begin with, after all. It had been a small meeting with a few Devil Hunters, only two beers in, and you had handed him his third.

"Thanks, Baby," He murmurred, the ghost of a smile playing on his lips as he tilted his head back. His eyes widened the moment he realized what he had done.

"Baby?" Himeno repeated.

"Baby?" Denji echoed.

"Like, an infant?" Power chimed in. Denji went to explain.

Aki sputtered profusely, hurried chants of, "Wait, wait--" leaving his lips. And you would just laugh, letting him feel the backlash from his coworkers.

"You are dating! I fuckin'-- HIC! -- knew it!" Himeno pumped her drink in the air. "You lyin' little shit."

Not like the way he looked at you didn't give it away from the beginning.

4. Way with words

He loves to spoil his girl. Not just with money (although he certainly doesn't hesitate to buy you whatever your heart desires, or to send you a couple thousand to treat yourself to something nice).

He spoils you with his words, with his saccharine tongue that overflows with pretty things the moment the two of you are alone.

"My pretty girl," He'll say. "Only mine. Only for me."

"Only for you," You'll say back.

He has a certain way with words. Perhaps it's the bluntness of it that makes you fall harder for him. He never hesitates to tell you exactly what's on his mind.

It's a whisper of, "I love you," against your cheek.

It's a grumble of, "Want you," while he leaves fleeting touches of your waist and hips.

And God, he knows how to talk your panties right off.

Lips pursed around a cancer stick, he'll breathe out everything you want to hear.

"'M gonna marry you some day," He'd say. "If I don't, I'll die trying."

"I love the way you look in that dress."

"Your eyes look so pretty."

"You take me so well, pretty."

Whoops. Did I let that last one slip out?

Well, then, I suppose that leads me to number 5.

5. Fantastic Lover

Aki is gifted in a multitude of ways. One of your personal favorites? His hands. His hands on your face, your chest, your lips -- his rough grip on your hips while he devours you.

He loves to spoil you with his attention. Sometimes, that means he'll have you clawing at the bed with anticipation before he even thinks about going faster.

"Can't rush perfection," he'd say.

And you'd tell him, "Shut up and fuck me."

He can't get enough of you. On the bed, on the floor, on the kitchen counter while everyone is still asleep -- he's addicted to the taste of you whenever he can have it. He loves the way you fall apart around him, around his tongue, hips jumping up to ride his face.

He's told you he'd die a happy man if you crushed him. You think that might be the truth.

His fingers are long and thick -- a little calloused, but none the less gentle as they press against your neck, as they slip into your needy pussy. He works you open like it's his job, effortlessly finding that spongy place inside of you that makes you gasp out for him, makes you clutch at his inky black hair as he leans in to give you an experimental lick.

You love his tongue. Devilish thing he is, he'll eat you out for his own pleasure -- until you're clawing at him, tugging the sheets off of the corners, leaving a trail of wetness on his fingers. He has this way of sucking and fucking you so divinely that you forget your name -- suddenly, the only one you can think of is his.

"Aki..." You'd whine. Quietly, still, but getting a little louder while you crept closer and closer to your peak.

"Quiet, Baby," He would hush you, adjusting your legs over his shoulders while he devoured you. "Don't want anybody to hear you, hmm?"

He'll eat you out until you're begging for more, pleading for him.

And then, if you've been good, he'll give it to you -- all of him, everything he has to offer. He'll pound you so far into the mattress that the next morning, when you get up to eat breakfast with him and his roommates, you can do nothing but avoid eye contact at all costs, limping into the kitchen and sitting down slowly (lest you hurt your tender back, the one he'd blown out).

"Rough night?" Denji had asked you once, munching on a mouthful of scrambled eggs.

You swallowed thickly, nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the way you were glancing between him and Aki, whose back was turned to the three of you while he finished cooking.

You scooped some eggs onto your plate, taking a bit onto your fork and shoveling it into your mouth (to give you an excuse to not reply).

But you'd be found out soon enough.

"Sure sounded like it," Power added, tilting her head at you. "Were you injured?"

Aki choked, but disguised it with a cough.

You quirked your brow. "No, why?"

Denji looked up at that, pausing to swallow before he gave his two cents. "You sure?" He asked (teasingly). "We could hear you crying out from down the hall."

You choked on your egg. Aki turned the stove off, whipping his head around to promptly whack Denji on the back of his head with the spoon he had just been stirring up eggs with.

a/n: hiiii! just a quick little drabble. i've been on a csm craze for the last week! (aki's been getting me through the week long period of grief that follows a brutal midterm week). feel free to request some more (reqs say closed but ill do it for my king aki....) who knows! if u guys like it enough (and maybe beg real nicely) i mightttt do another part (or publish this 45 page aki smut i've been sitting on lololosdjfkg). comment and reblog ur thoughts!! i love reading them.

comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

credits: idk the cover pic artist. If you know them, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work! I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

wanna join the csm taglist?

[jasontoddsdarling]

18+ | jason and you as (horny) newlyweds in your new house.

(p.s. mostly just an excuse to write about breeding or pregnancy kink—or not really kink, since they're serious. so yeah these two are the content warnings, proceed with caution. 1,2k words.)

jason and you as newlyweds in your new house.

the house is, albeit small, yours. it's pretty with kind of rustic vibes into it.

the most important thing though, is that it has a cute garden in the front. and also a wide enough backyard to hold some very close friends and family dinners.

and, wide enough garden for a toddler to play and run around, too.

see, you are newlyweds. only been married for four months. you two haven't exactly been trying to get pregnant, but you haven't exactly been trying to not to get pregnant—by the lack of birth controls, or even condoms.

you're not in any birth control and neither does he, but when having sex you two always careful on choosing days for him to come inside based on your tracking calendar on days you're not on your fertile window. mostly he doesn't even come inside.

and it's working, as in you haven't get pregnant and everything.

again, both of you are ever so careful despite without contraceptives.

but now, as jason has you bending on the surface of marble kitchen counter—he had said you two need to christen every surface of your new place, your cute ass up and your toes almost leaving the flooring; while he is behind you, his thick cock pounding into the heat of your cunt, his tight balls slapping on your swollen clit, you wish that he doesn't finish on your back or stomach or your mouth wherever you decide you want him to, this time.

you want him to finish inside of you, filling you up. spilling all his warm, thick seeds deep inside of you.

you want it so bad it hurts, you can almost taste it in your mouth.

you know you're currently at the beginning of your fertile window. and you think he knows too, he's keeping track after all.

but you want it, even though you're currently being fucked thoroughly by your husband, you're still aware that you make this possibly life changing decision. and you are ready. you two are. if this making love session, hot and wild in the kitchen is how you (possibly) get pregnant, then so be it.

jason is giving you hard and deep strokes when you suddenly open your mouth.

“honey.”

“yes, love?”

his deep with arousal voice, a tinge of dark rumble, answers you. it makes you tingle all over. he keeps plowing inside.

“i want you to come inside me, this time.”

he slows his fucking, very shallow trust, keeping his cock inside of your warmth.

“are you sure? you're on your fertile window.”

see, your husband knows.

“i know. but i want you to.”

you say, as you gasp when his cock hit the sensitive part inside of you.

“yeah?”

“yeah. i want you to get me pregnant.”

“fuck.”

jason resumes his pacing back to his deep, hard strokes like before.

not like before, actually. it's more intense and purposeful. it's like your request has ignites an unquenchable flame of lust and want in him.

“that's what you want, hm? you want me to give you a baby hm? fuck, that's what i want too, princess.”

“yeah? you want to make me pregnant, jay?”

jason grips your hip are bruising. he sends your upper body back and forth on the cool marble, your soft tits and peaked nipples are getting very sensitive.

you two have never engaged in this kind of dirty talk, but fuck if all of this isn't the hottest thing ever. moreover because both of you know this isn't just some mere dirty talk or for the whole thing to be strictly kink during sex thing. both of you are serious.

“fuck, yeah. been wanting it since the first time you told me i should ditched my condoms.

“i have been waiting for which one of us will break first, princess.”

you give a barely there laugh because he hit your g-spot just now, your toes are curling, making you whine instead.

“i just didn't expect you to be the one to say it first.”

“how did you know it'll go like this?”

“oh, i didn't. not exactly anyway. but if anything, princess, we're alike in this.”

he sends a particularly hard thrust as if to prove his point, and your cunt tightened around his cock.

“fuck. see?”

you nod, have nothing else to say. you can only moan desperately, you're so close now.

“i will come inside of you, love. i will make sure none of my cum leaks out of your cunt. i will give you my baby.”

he says each of the word after a vigorous stroke, clouding your mind and bumping deep inside your walls.

you moan, your eyes teary, your hands barely holding on the surface of the kitchen counter because its so slippery of your sweat and tears.

“can't wait too see you pregnant, your stomach swell. fuck, i know you will look so hot carrying our baby.”

our baby. that has your closed eyes and you seen stars. yes, our baby, you think. you envision a baby daughter—even though you don't mind if the baby's a son obviously—but you really want a little mini-me. jason too, you think, as you remember your old talk when you're dating about him thinking how baby daughter and dad's interactions he's been seeing in real life and in social media platforms are very precious.

you don't realize you're so stimulated that you're sobbing until jason points it out to you. he offers you to come together with him. no, he needs to come together with you.

“you're very close, sweetheart? be patient for me, alright? i'm so close too.”

his strokes are getting desperate, hard and unforgiving.

you look sideway so your cheek is on the cold counter now, not your whole face, and you can only take it and patiently waiting for him to reach his peak while holding yours back—it is not easy at all.

turns out it's not long at all though, because on your thirty seconds count you cry so hard, your vision blurry with tears.your orgasm being stolen from you as the tightening of your walls send jason to his own with his one last violent thrust.

you can feel his warm thick cum shoots inside of your vaginal walls. coating them thoroughly, not one surface is spared by his seeds. jason draps his massive body on your back, your sweat mingling. he waits until his cock stops spurting his cum.

“that's probably the hottest making love session we've in this house.”

he rasps, kissing the side of your sweaty neck.you can only give him a weak laugh. you feel satiated and boneless and you just want him to carry you after this.

“right. who knows the thought of making me pregnant really gets you going like you never were?”

“oh, love, you're about to see more of this.”

“mhmm?” you hum with seductive tone.

“yeah. we're not done yet even for today. we better ordering some foods after this because i know we'll need it. i'm not stopping, love, until i am sure it takes. even after that.”

jason pulls out of you slowly. he gestures you to tighten your thighs so his cum doesn't spill, and then carrying you to you the bedroom. that's where your phones are.

when he drops you on the soft mattress of your king-size bed, he goes to the nightstand on its side, ordering you both some heavy meals—and desserts—take out for you two's dinner.

then he closes his phone, he’s spooning you.

at that point, you already are being lulled by soft and cool bedding.

he kisses your nape and brushing strands of your hair softly.

“get your little nap, you'll need to gain energy, love, if we want to go all night. don't worry, i will wake you up when the foods have arrived.”

mariea's notea: i can't get this prompt out of my head it's been haunting me for days. glad i wrote it down <3

serious not though, BE SAFE if you're actively having sex. don't try anything above at home.

[zablife]

One Way or Another

Summary: When your brother Bonnie warns you about the darkness lurking beneath Tommy Shelby’s charming exterior, you heed his advice and break up. However, a vengeful Tommy vows to get you back and his ruthless tactics are worse than you could have imagined. 

Author's Note: Requested by a lovely anon who wanted to see dark!Tommy manipulate a reader into staying with him using Charlie as leverage. 

Warnings: language, dark!Tommy, manipulative behavior, allusion to non con (no graphic description), assault, discussion of pregnancy and adoption

You'd noticed the handsome, blue-eyed man the moment you and your family arrived in Small Heath. Intrigued by the mystery surrounding his enormous wealth and influence, you disobeyed your father's orders and began sneaking into town to catch a glimpse of Mr. Thomas Shelby. He soon took note of you as well, lavishing attention and gifts on you.

You even met his son Charlie a few times in his father's office. Giving voices to the toy horses and soldiers he would bring, the chubby toddler would laugh and grasp at your cheeks. You loved his laughter and often wished he was your own child. "You're a natural, sweetheart,” Tommy praised with a wide grin, which made you anxious for something more with him. You found yourself daydreaming about becoming Mrs. Shelby and giving him another baby.

Tommy wasn’t shy about expressing his own desire to you. A bottle of whisky and a sour mood had led him to confess that Charlie was not his son. He claimed it was an error in his judgement of character that would not happen again. This time he wanted things done in the proper way with the right woman, he said. You’d melted on the spot when he took your head between his large palms and kissed you full. His advances would escalate in the following meetings as he learned of your purity, more enamored with you than ever. You knew it was only a matter of time before he proposed to make you his completely.

However, someone in camp must have taken note of your frequent visits to Shelby properties because word quickly got back to your brother, Bonnie. "Y/n, what are you doing with him? He's not good for ya," he said furrowing his brow in concern.

"What do you mean, Bon?" you asked curiously.

“Don’t you know? You must,” he insisted, underestimating your youthful naivete. 

"He's the leader of the Peaky Blinders, Y/n. He's responsible for cuttings and beatings…murders. No one is safe round him. Not even you," he warned ominously.

"Surely not," you said, shaking your head in disbelief. Tommy was an upstanding businessman, or so you thought.

"Y/n, please listen to me," your older brother begged, sliding closer to you. "I wasn't supposed to tell you,” he said in a low, conspiratorial tone, “but Da and I are here to kill his enemies. And there's a long list. You don't want anything to do with Tommy Shelby, trust me," he stressed twisting his cap in his hands. 

After a lengthy conversation about everything he knew, including the murder of Tommy’s first wife, you were shaking with fear. Bonnie wasn’t easily spooked and it bothered you to see him this upset. “Alright, I'll keep my distance," you agreed, witnessing his agitation.

Bonnie sighed with relief, but you noted an apologetic tinge to his voice when he said, "I only want to keep you safe.”

You reached for his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know," you assured him and he relaxed back into his chair.

True to your word, you broke things off with Tommy the next day. You tried to be careful, explaining it in every conceivable way except the real reason. In your usual self effacing manner you babbled away to ease your nerves. "I'm much too young for you, Tommy. You'll get bored of me and everything I don't know. Surely you want someone more...experienced," you blushed.

Although he seemed to listen intently without judgment, inwardly he was fuming. It was your omission that told him everything he needed to know. Someone close to you had warned you off and he was certain it was your father or brother, perhaps both.

As you left his office that day, Tommy began plotting to get you back. Preferably in a manner that would punish you and your family. He would win you one way or another. Gambling was his livelihood after all and the odds were always in his favor.

----------------------

Two weeks later...

You heard Tommy's footsteps thudding on the stairs behind you, slowly and methodically. The rhythm pounded inside your skull like a drum, driving you to the brink of hysteria and quickening your own steps. He was frighteningly calm despite your obvious distress as though he enjoyed humiliating you. 

"Come back to bed, love," he urged in a saccharine voice that turned your stomach.  

Your body shivered in reply as you headed toward the sitting room in search of your coat. Blinking back the tears at your lash line and biting your tongue until it bled, you promised yourself you wouldn't let him see you cry. It had been the same tactic you used that morning when your father admitted he'd gambled away your innocence in a scrap metal yard when Tommy goaded him into a coin toss.

"You're going to allow this?" Bonnie yelled at your father, pacing the floor in anxious rage reserved for fight days. 

Placing yourself between him and the two blinders who had come to collect you, you mumbled, “I'll be alright.” It was a meager attempt to convince him and yourself. Turning to your father you asked, “It’s only one night?”

Watching from the corner of the room, deathly still, your father replied "I hope so." But his eyes were wide and filled with terror, the likes of which you'd never seen. 

A harsh tug on your elbow startled you out of yourself as Tommy towered over you. "Where do you think you're going, eh?" he asked tightening his grip, all attempts at gentle tactics now vanished.

"I'd like to go home to my family," you choked out desperately, fingers ghosting over his in a vain attempt to soften his grasp. If he held any affection for you, perhaps he would allow you to leave with a shred of dignity.

He smirked wickedly at your cowering form, “I don’t think you understand, love. This is your home now." Tucking your disheveled hair behind your ear to reveal a bite mark on your shoulder he added, "We're just getting started, you and I." His thumb traced a dark bruise forming higher up on your neck and you winced as he pressed into it. He placed a kiss to your lips and murmured against you, “Going to tell me how much you loved having me inside you, filling you up?” 

His nose brushed against yours as you pulled away. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to steady your voice. “Tommy, how can you expect me to stay after you hurt me like that?” you asked, eyes burning with tears as you relived the pain inflicted on your body and heart as you realized he’d never meant a word he said to you when you were courting.

“Everyone’s first time is like that, sweetheart. It couldn’t be helped,” he replied, caressing your cheek. You felt the bile rising in your throat as you thought of how rough he’d been, holding you down and rutting into you like an animal without any regard for your comfort. 

Mustering all your courage you asserted, “I don’t want it like that ever again.”

Tommy chuckled, “Every woman says that until she wants a baby. Then you'll be begging for it.”

You shook your head as you spat, “I don’t want a family with you.”

His eyes narrowed, large hand sliding down over your midsection as he tsked, “A bit late for that. You might already be carrying my child. What will you do then?” he asked with raised eyebrow.

“I don’t know, but I wouldn’t ask anything of you and I don't want..."

"I don't give a fuck what you want," he interrupted, eyes blazing with fury. "You belong to me,” he hissed, hand snaking down to your throat. 

“I'll never be yours!” you shouted, fighting against him. You were paralyzed by the feeling of your airway constricting under his crushing grip, reducing you to pathetic whimpers. He squeezed until your lungs burned from lack of oxygen, your fingertips scrabbling for his wrist and clawing uselessly. 

Leaning to whisper into the shell of your ear, hot breath fanned over you along with his terrifying words, “You don’t want to make things worse now, do you?”

Just as your vision turned dark, he relinquished you and you fell to the floor gasping for breath. Between coughing fits, you became aware of the housekeeper, Mary, standing in the room. When Tommy had summoned her you weren’t sure. Perhaps you had lost consciousness at some point because she stood with Charlie in her arms and the ringing in your ears soon turned to shrill crying. 

“Ch-Charlie?” you asked, reaching for the child with a hint of a smile in hopes of cheering him.The brightness returning to your eyes told Tommy all he needed to know. With clenched jaw, he  jerked his chin and Mary left the room as quickly as she had appeared. “What’s she doing?” you mumbled, attempting to stand despite the fuzzy feeling swimming inside your head.

Tommy didn’t answer, pretending as though he hadn’t heard you. He picked up the phone, adopting a business like tone, and began, “Good evening, put me through to Sister Agatha.” 

You could still hear Charlie’s desperate sobs echoing down the corridor as Tommy greeted the woman on the other end of the line. Standing on wobbly legs, you hesitated with uncertainty, wishing to comfort the boy. However, your attention was brought back to the cruel words you overheard next. Your jaw dropped as you heard Tommy proclaim, “Send someone to collect the child tonight.”

You scrambled toward him, a look of horror crossing your face. “What have you done?”

Tommy stood like a brick wall, cold and impenetrable. “What necessity dictates, my darling.”

“I d-don’t understand,” you stuttered in confusion, unable to think clearly while being tormented by Charlie's unending screams. Finally you begged softly, "May I hold him? He's upset." You stared at Tommy's stone like features, wondering how he could be so heartless toward a baby.

Taking his time to light a cigarette and toss the match into the fireplace, Tommy smoked quietly for a few moments before ushering Mary back into the room. He took Charlie from her and placed the toddler in your trembling arms. Within a few minutes the boy settled, his chubby cheek resting upon your shoulder. As your hand caressed his golden curls, his cries turned to quiet hiccups and you felt the gentle motion of his thumb sucking before his limbs grew heavy with sleep.

“Tommy, what’s going on?” you pleaded as fresh tears slid down your cheeks. “Why are you behaving this way?”

Tommy stalked to you in three long strides, forcing your chin to meet his gaze. Icy blue stare cutting into you sharply, he scolded, “You’re the one forcing me to do these things.”

You tried to shake your head in adamant denial, but his harsh grip kept you in place. Through pinched cheeks you sputtered, “I never told you…”

“But you did,” he bit back. “Weren’t you the one saying you wanted to leave? That you didn’t want a family with me?” He threw your chin away in disgust as your brain reeled.

“You’re twisting my words…” you protested, voice cracking with emotion. Looking down at the sleeping child in your arms you began, “Of course I didn't mean Charlie..."

Just then a knock came at the door, followed by two nuns announcing themselves as representatives of St. Hilda’s. You backed into a corner, holding Charlie to your body protectively, heart beating wildly as you thought of a way to save him.

“What a darling little boy," one of the nuns chirped despite the late hour. Then she added carefully, "May I take him now?”

Tommy caught your eyes from across the room, “Go on, sweetheart,” he urged. “Unless you’ve changed your mind?” 

----------------------

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