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#getting it filled tomorrow. please change my life
hii can I get whiskey w Steve Rogers for oral/face riding?
Adjusting.
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warnings - smut. cursing.
nomad steve makes me feral. that's all. I was feeling this one.
3k celebration post here. 3k masterlist here.
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He's adjusting, to this new life.
He's shy. Taking it one day at a time. Reminding himself to breathe when things get overwhelming.
Soon, he finds his feet. Regains his confidence. Starts asking for things, setting boundaries, taking what he wants a little more.
He keeps surprising you. With his knowledge, new slang he uses, his ability to use a phone. He's a fast learner.
He's braver, now.
He's adjusting.
Trying to get used to the fact that women aren't as seemingly fragile as they were. They run the world more openly, now, and Steve loves it.
He loves you.
Tries to show you how much when he's got you between his sheets, kissing every inch of skin he can find. Gentle, tender, careful.
You tell him that you know he loves you, no matter what. He doesn't have to be so tentative. It doesn't change the way you look at him.
He's in a lust fuelled haze when he finds the courage.
"Sit on my face."
You choke on your breath, gasping for air.
"What?"
"You heard me, honey. Sit on my face. Now."
You've never seen him like this. Frayed at the edges, feral almost. His eyes are as dark as the wet spot between your legs.
You quirk a brow at him in challenge, but he doesn't back down. So you grant him his wish. Crawling up his body until you're hovering over his pretty face, deep gaze focused on you.
"Is this what you want?" you whisper.
"More than anything."
He's practically growling, voice lower and rougher than you've ever heard it. You owe a thanks to whatever has got him so riled up.
He tugs you down to his mouth with two strong hands around your thighs, grip hard enough that you know you'll bruise tomorrow. You can't wait.
You tangle your fingers through his golden blonde locks and tug, whining when he groans, from the depths his chest. The two of you are animalistic, finally tapping into the carnal desires that have been there all along.
You're practically riding the gorgeous ridge of his nose, reveling in the way his tongue slips inside and curls. He might not have much experience with this, but he's always been naturally gifted. He's one of those people that's good at everything.
He's groaning, humming, murmuring, enjoying this just as much as you are. Your hands almost splinter the headboard, skin pulled taut across tense knuckles. You're so close you can taste it, honey sweet and saccharine.
"Good girl. Good fuckin' girl. Come on my face, honey. Please."
It's the broken please that gets you, the desperation in his tone and the tightening grip on your hips. You see stars, dizzying and clear, blood rushing to your head. Steve doesn't let up, determined to see how pretty you look when he finally pushes you to your limit.
You collapse against his chest, leaning into his touch like a kitten. Rough fingertips trace patterns across your back, your arms, your hips. He's waiting for you to give him the green light.
You kiss him with force, tongue sliding into his mouth with no room for protest. You bite his lip and grin. America's golden boy. Lying under you with your come smeared across his face.
He leans up to whisper in your ear, rough tone filled with promise and mischief.
"I love you," he murmurs, tongue gliding across your neck. "Let me fuck you like I don't."
You've never been one to deny him. You're not about to start now.
He's adjusting, after all.
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5K notes · View notes
dreaming-medium · 7 months
Text
Stray Kids Kinktober Day 5
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Stray Kids Kinktober Masterlist
Cockwarming - Felix
Word Count: 5.7k
Summary: End of the quarter reports are due and somehow one of the calculations got messed up; it’s nothing you can’t do by hand. And luckily you have a preppy secretary who will stop at nothing to make sure you’re relaxed.
————————————————————
“Felix, can you bring in my incoming forms, please?” you say into the intercom on your desk. 
“Right away, ma’am.” His deep voice answers you immediately through the speaker. 
Leaning back in your large office chair, you cross one leg over the other and look out of the floor to ceiling windows that line the wall behind your desk. 
Your arms cross over your chest and your bottom lip pulls between your teeth in deep thought. 
Various different items on your to-do list for the day fly through your mind as you stare out over the Seoul skyline.
Partnership approvals, tax forms, time sheets.  
Being the CFO for a large cooperation like this one was never easy. There was never a single day in the office that you weren’t busy. When you think about it, you can’t even remember the last time you took a vacation day.
Once you get this high in the corporate ladder, it’s supposed to get easier, that’s what you thought. It’s what you were told your entire life. But, now that you’re here, you see that it’s the exact opposite.
Every single day is filled to the brim with meetings, phone calls, and business lunches. It’s all chock full of fake smiles and forced laughter. 
You worked your ass off to get to where you were now, and nothing was ever going to change that. Sleep be damned..
A gentle knock sounded through the room.
“Come in,” you call out, turning your chair to face the door.
The door opens and Felix walks in with a large stack of papers in his hands. His crisp white dress shirt is tucked into his navy blue dress pants, a matching tie around his neck. A pair of thick black glasses sat perched on his nose, face framed by long, perfectly kempt, blond hair.
“Your inbox, ma’am,” he says warmly, walking closer to your desk.
“Thank you, Felix.” You motion down to the empty desk in front of you. “You can just place them anywhere.”
He nods and gently places them on an empty spot on the wood.
“Do I have any more meetings for the day?” you ask him, flipping through the papers.
“No, ma’am.”
You run one hand through your hair tiredly. “Good, good.” A beat. “What time is my first meeting tomorrow?”
Felix reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. He taps on the screen a few times before speaking up. “Ten o’clock.”
“Really? That’s the best news I’ve gotten all day.” 
“Your 8:30 was rescheduled to the afternoon.”
“Now that makes sense.”
Your eyes tiredly flick over to the time on your desktop. “Jesus, Felix. Weren’t you supposed to leave an hour ago?” 
He shifts his weight on his feet. “Yes, but I don’t leave until you do.”
“I told you that you don’t need to do that.”
“It’s just in case you need me, you know?” A soft blush covers his cheeks, but you pay no mind to it.
“You’re putting these hours on your timesheet, right?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” You sigh again. “Tomorrow is the day, isn’t it?”
“If you’re referring to the quarterly rebalance, then yes, it is.”
At the end of every quarter, you were in charge of verifying each analyst’s calculations and reading their predictions for the next one before presenting them to the board of directors. 
Every single time you end up staying at the office until the wee hours of the morning.  
Last quarter, you didn’t leave the office until two in the morning. And, like every quarter, Felix stayed with you.
“Well, then,” You put the forms back down on your desk and push your chair away to stand up. “I’m not going to bother with these tonight when I’ll be here until sunrise on Saturday.”
“Should I have your car brought around?”
“If you could, please.”
“Right away, ma’am.”
Felix briskly leaves the room and you roll your head around your sore neck.
“Fuck quarterly rebalances.”
----------------------------------------
Your hand runs over your face for the millionth time in the last four hours. The numbers are starting to blend together at this point. 
The analyses started coming in around 11 AM and since then you just haven’t stopped. 
Line chart after line chart, spreadsheet after spreadsheet, everything looks the same now. 
You’ve been hung up on one single data set. There’s a random spike in it for no reason at all. Why is there a spike in this calculation? 
You cannot move on to the rest of the data until you get over this spike. 
Blindly, you reach over to the phone on your desk and press the intercom button. “Felix,” you say after the beep.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“Can you please patch me through to Seo Changbin? There’s no way this spike is correct.”
The sound of typing on a keyboard echoes over the line. 
“Seo Changbin clocked out three hours ago, ma’am. Would you like me to ring his personal phone?”
“Three hours?” you ask incredulously and look down at the time. “Holy shit.” you murmur under your breath.
8:00 PM. It’s 8:00 PM.
“Ma’am?” Felix grabs your attention after a second of waiting. 
You throw your glasses down onto the desk and pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration. A headache has been resting behind your eyes all day. 
“No,” you say after a few moments. “No, that won’t be necessary. I’ll just run the numbers myself.”
“Is there anything else I can help you with for now, ma’am?”
You look around the room, the sun is setting over the skyline. A sigh leaves your chest. 
It’s hard to believe you were working for nine straight hours on this. When was the last time you looked up? 
“Have you eaten yet, Felix?” you ask, keeping your eyes outside. 
“No, ma’am.”
“Order whatever you want, make it double. Put it on the corporate card.”
Felix’s deep laugh comes through the intercom. “Right away, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Felix.” 
“My pleasure, ma’am.”
----------------------------------------
Two plus two is four, right? Yes, of course it is. Two plus two has always been four. They wouldn’t just change that suddenly, right?
But you’re so delirious that you still punch it in your calculator. 
“Two plus two...” When the calculator says four, you stare at it. “To be honest, I was expecting something else with how tonight is going.”
Laughing at your own joke, you continue to re-input the numbers into the spreadsheet on your desktop. 
A knock at your door pulls your attention.
“Come in!” you call out without looking up. 
The door clicks open. “Delivery!” Felix’s cheery voice calls into your office.
You look up at your secretary with weary eyes. His mouth pulls into a sympathetic smile. 
“That bad, huh?”
“You have no idea.” you groan and lean back in your chair. Your muscles scream from the movement and you grunt. “I just verified two plus two on the calculator.”
“Still four?”
“Surprisingly.”
“I think it’s time for a break, then.”
Peeking at the clock, it says it’s around 9:00 PM now. 
With an apologetic smile, you look up at Felix. His white collared shirt is undone at the top, no tie around his neck. A plain pair of tight black slacks hugging his legs. He’s looking at you with nothing but pity in his eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Felix,” you say while taking the takeout container from him. He just laughs.
“Don’t apologize, it’s all part of the job.” He shifts in place for a moment and turns and looks at the door. 
“Where’s your food?”
“Oh, at my desk.”
“Why don’t you bring it in here? I’d love the company. Wayne can only do so much for my sanity.” You point at the house plant on your windowsill.
A little nametag on the front of the pot says ‘Wayne’ in cursive. 
Felix’s eyes widen and his cheeks turn a bit pink. “Oh! Yeah! I’ll um… I’ll go grab it and be right back.”
You follow his lithe body as he rushes out of your office with one eyebrow raised.
Strange.
True, this was the first time you invited him to eat in your office with you. But it’s not like you ever had the opportunity to do so.
Typically, you ate in your office by yourself while still working. Truth be told, you had no idea when Felix’s lunch break was. He was always available when you needed him. Did he work through his lunch too?
Your secretary re-enters your office slightly out of breath. 
“By the way,” he pants. “I had forgotten to order us drinks, so I got this out of the vending machine for you.”
He comes up to your desk holding out your favorite drink.
“Ugh, what would I do without you?” You smile and take the drink. “Pull a chair closer, you can eat on my desk too. It’ll get all over you if you try to balance it like that on your lap.”
Eagerly, he places his food on your desk and scoots forward. The redness in his cheeks deepened. 
Soft lo-fi music is coming through your computer and filling the silence in the air. You crack open the takeout container and dig in. 
It’s a stir fry. And stir fry has never looked this good in your life.
“This is so good,” you basically moan after taking your first bite. 
“O-Oh, yeah? I’m glad you like it,” Felix stutters back and takes his own bite. 
“It’s definitely much needed after today.” You whine and look back at your desktop. 
“What’s going on with the numbers?”
“Based on what Changbin gave me, it says our internal earnings spiked massively this quarter. And yes, while this is great, it’s extremely abnormal. If this is true, I need to verify it before I can present it; otherwise, I’ll look like a fool.” 
Felix listens intently to your explanation. “I don’t think you could ever look like a fool, ma’am.”
“Thank you, Felix.” You smile at him. He grins back and suddenly it’s like the sun is back up. His pearly white teeth shine in the office light.
“You have such a pretty smile,” you compliment him. “I don’t think I ever told you that.”
Felix squirms in his seat and looks down bashfully. The blush spreads all over his face. One of his hands comes up and rubs the back of his neck. 
“Ah, thank you, ma’am. I appreciate that.”
Chuckling softly, you turn back to your calculations. 
The gentle, twinkling sounds of lo-fi beats do nothing to help calm the swirling confusion in your head. 
Minutes pass and you’re staring at the same algorithm. 
Your shoulders are slowly coming towards your ears with all the tension in your body. When you lean forward to use your keyboard, a burning pain runs through your back. 
“Fuck.” Your hand flies up to grab where your shoulder meets your neck to massage it and roll your head around. 
“Everything alright?” Felix asks. 
“Yeah, I just get so stiff sitting at my desk while I work on the end of quarter stuff. Feels like my shoulders are on fire.”
No amount of massaging your own shoulders seems to be working, though. 
Felix looks down at his food for a moment, then back up to you. His eyes shift away from you nervously. 
“Before this job, I had gone to massage school for a few months. Would you like me to see if I can work those kinks out?”
Normally, you would say no. It would be so wildly inappropriate to have your secretary massage your shoulders while you work. Imagine if someone decided to walk in?
But now? When no one else is here and there’s no end in sight with these analyses?
“Are you sure you don’t mind?” you ask, unsure. 
He seems to perk up a bit. “Not at all!”
Another moment passes while you weigh it in your mind, your lip pulls between your teeth before looking at him a bit sheepishly. “If you don’t mind…”
Felix is up on his feet, food immediately forgotten. It almost startles you how fast he’s up and around the back of your chair.
You had shucked off your blazer a few hours ago. Just your button up on, the top few buttons undone and sleeves rolled up to your elbows. 
Felix stands behind you for a moment, his hands hovering over your shoulders. “Do you have any lotion?”
“Yes, actually.” Reaching down into your desk drawer, you pulled out an herbal lotion that your one friend had gotten you as a gift. 
“‘Stress Relief’, huh?” Felix teases when you set it on the desk.
“A friend thought it would make a great gag gift with everything going on,” you laugh to yourself and stare back at your computer. “She didn’t realize how appropriate it was.”
Once more, Felix moves his hands around your back, his lithe fingers sweeping your hair off the back of your neck. Instead of keeping it down, you lean forward and grab a long pencil out of the cup and twirl it around your hair to then pin it up.
It’s a trick you learned back in college.
Felix watches behind you silently, his breath hitches slightly when he sees your hair settle all pinned up. Strands fall out of the bundle and frame your face and neck a bit.
It’s the most perfect messy hairstyle he’s ever seen. 
Felix’s jaw clenches and he gulps, pulling himself together.
“Do you mind if I, ah– lower the back of your shirt a bit?” 
“Yeah, here.” You’re already back in word mode; after looking at the sheer number of raw data littering the spreadsheet on your desktop, you were no longer focused on your secretary. 
You unbutton more of the buttons and let your shirt slide off your shoulders a bit. Your cleavage was still covered– mostly. 
Felix’s brain whites out for a split second and he has to physically force his brain to reboot. There’s a slight twitch in his pants at the sight of your naked shoulders. You’re always in those high-collared shirts, blazers, sweaters, so ungodly professional.
But your clothes are always so skin tight. Or you’ll wear a blouse like this one and a tiny little pencil skirt. 
Felix leans down and pumps some lotion on his hands, rubbing it together to warm it up before setting his hands on your wonderfully smooth skin. It takes every fiber of his being not to let out a moan at the feeling. 
His breathing picks up as he digs his thumbs into your muscles. 
Immediately, you groan at the feeling. “God, that already feels so good, Felix.”
His name, you said his name, moaning nonetheless. 
He can only make a noise of acknowledgement while he continues to work out the high strung muscles in your neck and shoulders.
Meanwhile, your brain is completely focused on your calculations. It’s so much easier to focus on everything when it doesn’t feel like your back is on fire.
Felix’s hands are absolutely magical. Everywhere he rubs loosens up underneath his strong, yet gentle, grip. He kneads right at the base of your neck and every knot slowly releases.
Small moans slip past your lips without realizing it.
And just because you don’t realize you’re moaning does not mean that your secretary hasn’t. Every single sound that comes out of your mouth goes straight to his dick. His slacks have tightened significantly, a tent pitching higher and higher each second.
He scolds himself internally. He knows he needs to pull it together, you’re his boss. You sign his paychecks. But fuck, knowing that you’re making those noises because of just his fingers is messing with his brain, he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to.
Felix runs over a particularly tight knot and you jump with a yelp.
“Sorry! Sorry!” he apologizes profusely, keeping his hands on your shoulders.
“It’s okay,” you soothe his worry. “God, I already feel better. It felt like someone was stabbing flaming daggers into my shoulders.”
Your voice sounds somewhere else. Even though Felix has been your secretary for almost two years now, you’ve never spoken this casually with him. You were always professional, always so put together. 
The work in front of you has you so consumed that you don’t realize how much your tongue is slipping.
It’s been like this the entire night. You’re too distracted to care. 
“I can’t believe you chose to pursue this instead of continuing with massage school.” you continue.
“Well, I had originally gotten this job to pay for massage school. Then, when I got this position, I realized it paid more than being a masseuse ever would.”
You move your head around your shoulders, “Still.” you write down a string of numbers, click around on your keyboard, punch a formula into the calculator, then write something else down. “God, your fingers are fucking magical.”
Hearing you curse sent a lightning bolt down his back and Felix’s head is shot into the clouds. And you were complimenting him! 
“I can’t imagine what else those fingers can do.” 
Now he knows he’s dreaming. Did you really just say that? Did he hallucinate it? His fingers pause on your muscles.
Your own words must have sunken into your brain; your entire body goes rigid and you gasp, one hand flying over your mouth. Your heart drops to your stomach.
“Oh my god, Felix.” you say quietly, your tone is horrified. “Felix, I am so sorry, please. Oh, god.”
You can’t even turn around to look at him. It’s like ice water was injected to your veins. How could you have said that? He’s going to report you to HR! Who wouldn’t? You quite literally just harassed him in the workplace.
“I have no idea why I said that.” you sputter.
Say goodbye to everything you worked for. You threw it out the window by accidentally letting your tongue slip while he massaged your bare shoulders.
While you were apologizing profusely, you didn't feel him lean down until you heard his baritone voice was right next to your ear.
“I could show you.”
Like a zipper, pleasure shoots right up your spine. It makes you sit up straighter in your desk chair. Your mouth is suddenly so dry.
“W-What?” you stutter out, still looking down at your desk.
Felix is so close behind you that you can smell his cologne wrapping around your nose. It’s so fresh. It has a cotton-like musky smell to it. You’ve always caught whiffs of it when he came breezing through your office.
So many times you’ve found yourself leaning into the smell, and now here you have it so close to you.
“I could show you what these fingers can do, ma’am.” he purrs in your ear. Goosebumps raise all along the back of your neck, the hairs stand on end and a shiver creeps up on you.
His warm, slippery hands slide from your shoulders down your bare arms to grip them for a second before sliding back up. Felix reapers the motion a few times, letting his hot breath fan over your exposed skin.
“But,” the gravel of his voice makes your insides flutter. “You need to finish these calculations, ma’am.”
You hum in response, allowing your eyes to flutter closed and you lean back into his touch.
Felix chuckles under his breath. “I have an idea.”
----------------------------------------
Oh, it was a sinful fucking idea. Did he really think you were going to get any work done like this?
Felix had sat down on your desk chair, the tent in his pants so painfully obvious. At the same time, you can’t deny the wetness in your panties. It was getting worse and worse during that massage.
It’s only natural. 
He grabs your hips and pulls your body towards him, his face level with your lower stomach. He looks directly up at you, his fingers curling into the fabric of your pencil skirt.
Those deep brown eyes staring up at you with a lustful haze covering them. Every freckle was highlighted on his face due to the blush covering his skin.
You bring one of your hands up to his face and softly caress his cheek, letting your fingertips dance over his skin. Felix leans into your touch; he turns his head and presses a kiss to your palm.
“This is crazy,” you whisper down to him.
“The secretary sleeping with the boss is not a new concept, ma’am.”
You roll your eyes. “Yes, but it’s usually the other way around.”
One of your knees comes up and rests on the chair right in front of his crotch. Felix bites his lip and his eyes squint shut for a moment.
His hips stutter, you can tell he’s trying not to roll them to rub against your bare skin.
Your head cocks to the side and you smirk. “Come on then, I need you to be fully hard if I’m going to sit on your cock.”
One of the deepest moans you’ve ever heard pulls from deep within his chest. Felix’s head tilts back and his grip on your hips tightens. In a fluid motion, he gyrates his hips and you feel his cock press right against your leg.
A devious smile crosses your face, you move your hand down to grip his face tightly to bring his clouded gaze back to you. 
“Come on then, Felix. You can do better than that.”
He whines and closes his eyes again, his hips stuttering and moving faster, harder. He parts his lips to begin panting. Each breath is hot and heavy, you can barely hear your music over it. The heat from his exhales goes right through your shirt.
Further and further, he descends into a subspace.
“Good boy,” you praise and it goes straight to his head. 
Felix gulps and moves his hands around to grip your ass a bit.
In a quick movement, you rip your leg away from his hips.
Felix cries out and his eyes fly open to look at you with astonishment.
“Did I say you could touch me like that?” you hiss down at him. 
“No, ma’am.”
Your head cocks to the side and you stare for a few seconds. “I need to get back to work already. Take your cock out.”
His eyes widen and he hesitates, not used to hearing such filth tumble from your lips. You tighten your grip on his face.
“I’m waiting, Felix.”
He’s then fumbling with his pants trying to fulfill your wishes. He’s practically scrambling. Why isn’t the zipper fucking working? Come on, come on.
Meanwhile, you drop his face and pull your skirt up around your waist, revealing your black lace thong. While still fumbling with his own pants, Felix moans, staring at the beautiful sight in front of him. It sounds like it’s punched out of him.
Teasingly, you hook your thumbs around the elastic band and drag it down your legs slowly.
Another whine comes out from Felix’s throat. His tongue practically falls out of his mouth at the sight of your pussy, acting like a starved dog.
“Please,” he pants, not able to tear his eyes away from it. “Just a taste. Just one. Please, ma’am, please.”
Smirking, you lightly slap his cheek twice. “You get three licks, honey.”
He can’t get his mouth on you fast enough. Felix wraps his lips around your glistening folds and runs his tongue up through your juices, collecting whatever he could on his tongue. 
You both moan at the same time at the sensation.
“One…” you moan out. 
Another lick pulls another moan. “Two!”
After the third lick, he swirls his tongue around your clit, making your knees feel weak. “Fuck! Three!”
You roughly grab his hair and yank his mouth away from you. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes half lidded. It looks like you took a puppy away from its bowl.
His full lips glisten with your arousal. 
“Sit back on the chair, hands to yourself.”
Felix reluctantly leans back in your chair, his cock at full mast and dripping with precum. His head is flushed red. He is painfully hard.
He rests both of his hands on the arm rests of the chair and keeps his lustful eyes on you.
A smirk pulls at your lips as you kick your panties off, heels staying on. 
You turn around and grab Felix’s cock tightly. His hands tighten around the armrests with a gasp.
“Remember what I said, Felix. No touching.”
“Yes,” he pants.
“Say it, then.” you demand, hovering your pussy over his cock. You both can feel the heat of each other radiating off. 
“No touchinggg—!” While he was talking you dropped down onto his length. 
Both of you moan out loud, your head kicks back at the delicious stretch. God, it’s been too fucking long since you’ve gotten laid. This job takes everything from you.
You roll your hips a few times, getting adjusted. With each movement, Felix lets out a noise: a whine, a grunt, a moan, a whimper, everything in between. He’s singing a chorus of pleasure in your ear. 
“We have to get a little closer to the desk, Felix.”
It takes every ounce of strength, but your voice comes out even and Felix clocks that it’s your professional voice. You feel his cock twitch inside you.
Slowly, he rolls the chair towards the desk and you immediately return to your work. You snap back to it so fast it makes Felix whimper again.
Your heat is wrapped around him in the fucking best way. There’s no way he’s alive right now. For months he’s touched himself thinking about what you looked like underneath all those professional clothes.
You’re always so uptight, what if you just let loose for once? What would it be like? 
Your pussy clenched down on him and Felix whines, throwing his head back. Oh, this was going to be torture.
Just until you finish verifying the calculation, that’s what you said. As soon as you verify the numbers, then you would let him have you.
“You just need to behave.” You told him.
How is he supposed to behave when you’re so fucking tight and wet around him? He can feel each breath you take. 
Besides the fact that you’re surrounding his cock, your naked thighs are right there on top of his. He wants to grab them so hard it’ll leave his fingerprints in your skin, maybe it’ll bruise in the shape of his handprint.
Felix can’t help his hips bucking at the thought.
You clench again and moan. “Felix,” you warn.
“S-Sorry.”
“Sorry, what?”
“Sorry, ma’am!” 
Oh, you love that. You absolutely throb around him. Huh.
The soft hairs on the back of your neck tickle against his nose, he can still smell the lotion that he rubbed into your shoulders. 
Felix is grabbing the armrests so tight his knuckles are turning white. His nails dig into the leather painfully.
He licks his lips nervously and he gets another taste of your arousal that was still on his skin. It makes his eyes roll back. 
You adjust on his lap. The movement of your heat around him makes his head spin. The drag of your hot, soaking wet walls over his length is the most consuming feeling he’s ever felt. 
“Fuck,” he murmurs under his breath. 
“Stop moving.”
A small sheen of sweat breaks out on his forehead.
Why no touching? Why couldn’t he snake his hand around and up your blouse? He could cup your tit and pinch and pull your nipples until you’re clenching around him so tight that he could scream. He could lick all the way up your neck and pull your earlobe into his mouth while he listens to you panting his name.
Why can’t he touch you? God, he just wants to touch you.
Here he was, living out his wildest wet dream, and he couldn't feel your soft, supple skin underneath his fingers.
Why can’t he turn your head and consume your lips with his own? Shove his tongue down your throat and suck on yours like it’s a piece of candy.
He should’ve taken his pants off. This way he would’ve been able to feel your juices drip down and soak his thighs. You’re so fucking wet he thinks he might die. 
Felix’s eyes travel to the desk. He could absolutely bend you over the top. He could pull your hair and make you scream. He could make you forget all about–
“Aha!” When you scream, he jumps in surprise. His hips buck up and your pussy clenches around him. You both moan.
“Did you get it?” he pants out. His voice sounds so much weaker than he wanted it to; he sounds like he just ran two miles.
“Yes! He used net earnings instead of gross in one formula! Oh I am going to kill him.”
Thank the fucking lord. You figured it out. You did it, can he please please please–
Felix must’ve started thrusting up into you before he could even register the movements. His mind is so cloudly with lust that he can barely think straight.
“Easy, Felix.” you whine out through moans. He can just tell you didn’t want him to stop either. “Let me just finalize the chart and then–”
Felix cries out and then slumps his head forward to rest between your shoulder blades. “Ma’am, please, I’ve been so good for you, haven’t I? Haven’t I been such a good boy for you, ma’am?”
You hum and roll your hips ever so slightly. Just this slight amount of movement drives Felix insane. He whimpers loudly and his legs begin to shake underneath you.
“You have been a good boy, Felix. Why don’t I give you a reward?”
“Please.”
“Why don’t you let those pretty little hands roam until I’m done?”
“Thank you!” he cries out with a hoarse voice.
Immediately, his hands fly to your thighs and he grips the flesh tightly. His nails dig into your skin and you cry out under your breath, your walls clamping down on him tightly.
“Can I use my mouth, ma’am? Please please please please–”
“Yesss…” you hissed at him.
Felix attaches his lips to your neck and begins to suck on the soft skin while his hands wander up your body.
One hand goes right under your shirt and pulls your bra down. Those magic fingers pinch your nipple.
Every reaction your body has envelopes him in the most amazing way. He can feel everything your body likes. He can feel how you like when he rubs around your nipple rather than pinching it. He can feel how much you love when he uses his thumb to play with your tit while his mouth bites at your neck and hit other hand teases your soaking wet folds.
“Felix…” you warn. It’s all empty, though. Your typing has completely stopped, work has been forgotten.
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, ma’am.” He moans when you tighten. “Let me make you feel good, ma’am. Let me be such a good secretary.”
With the gentlest of touches, Felix plays with your clit. Just with that soft touch, your body spasms around him.
“I can make your body sing, ma’am. Let me be of service to you.”
Another gentle pinch of your nipple. It’s going straight to his head how he can feel how much you’re fighting him.
“Don’t you want to cum around my cock, ma’am?”
You break. “Please.” you whine out.
It’s enough for him. 
Both of his arms tighten around your body, his feet plant firmly on the floor and he begins fucking up into you like his fucking life depends on it. 
He turns into something of a fucking animal with how he’s rutting his cock into your sopping wet heat. He thrusts so hard and so fast, you think he might go through you.
His teeth bare for a moment from the exertion, but he bites down where your shoulder meets your neck.
Your head throws back onto his shoulder. Felix grabs your entire tit to anchor his hold, his thumb brushing over the nipple over and over, each one sends a ripple of pleasure through you.
His other hand rubs harder at your clit, you clamp even tighter over him. Both of you grunt and groan. There is no silence in your office; is the music even playing anymore?
You turn your head to look at him. “Kiss me, Felix.”
He captures your lips without a second thought. It all feels so fucking deliciously good. He sucks on your tongue just like he always wanted to. 
Your mouths glide over one another sloppily, spit getting everywhere on your mouths.
With each thrust, each flick, each rub, your orgasm gets closer and closer. 
Felix shifts his hips a bit and hits your g-spot so hard you cry out into his mouth, he swallows the noise.
“You’re so fucking tight, ma’am. I can feel you clenching so hard. You’re close, aren’t you?”
All you’re able to do is nod. He’s stimulating you so much that you can’t find your voice. 
“Fuck!” he cries out, “Fuck fuck, give it to me, please. Please cum for me, ma’am.” His voice is so low, it's so hoarse from arousal.
A particularly hard thrust launches you over the edge, your orgasm seizes every inch of your body. Felix keeps going, fucking you right through your orgasm.
Deep, guttural moans come from his chest as your body begins to shake in overstimulation. His thrusts grow sloppy and uncoordinated as he gets closer to his own peak.
“Cumming, cumming, cumming!” he shouts and bites your neck again.
Felix spills within you, his hips sputter and he continues to talk through it. 
“So good, fuck, thank you, thank you. So fucking good, fuck, oh my god.”
The room begins to settle, both of your pants becoming softer than the music. Felix holds you close to his chest still, not letting you go.
Your eyes flicker to your desktop.
“... I’m only halfway done. Your cock isn’t going anywhere.”
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eloves-writes · 4 months
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so it goes…
[coriolanus snow x reader]
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desc: part 2 here! as dr gaul’s assistant, you find yourself alone in her laboratory bearing an unpleasant task with her other mentee, coriolanus snow, who you strongly despise. or so it goes … warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), slightly public sex, reader is wearing a skirt, think that's it but please lmk if i need to add anything! a/n: thank you so much for all the love on my last fic! and thank you anon for this request, i love and appreciate requests more than you know!!! enjoy this. will for sure write a second chapter if one singlular person expresses interest. mwah mwah mwah ily this work contains mature themes, minors dni
dr gaul’s lab was filled with weird and wonderful (but mostly weird) things. you sat, bored, on your side of the gamemaker’s desk staring at shelves and shelves of creatures of all shapes and sizes with various muttations. according to the clock beside you, it had been 30 minutes since gaul herself had left the room to ‘see to something’. it was often best not to ask questions when things like that happened, but you really wished she would come back soon as your work day technically ended in a few minutes and gaul’s second-favourite mentee came to visit her after hours almost every day. coriolanus snow was not necessarily an unpleasant person, not to you at least, but he was certainly unbearable. he was so up his own ass thinking he was better than everybody else that he failed to realise how much of a pompous twat he was. ‘snow lands on top’. god, those four words were practically all you heard come out of his mouth when he wasn’t sucking up to dr gaul or spewing fake niceties to any authoritative figure who would listen.
as you were thinking about how annoying he is and how pretentious his stupid hairstyle was, the door to the lab was hauled open by the peacekeepers who stood guard outside. thank god gaul was back, you couldn’t wait to get out of here. not that you weren’t grateful for this assistant’s position, because it was a highly coveted role for university students each year and you’d beat them all out for it. even snow. ha. even suck-up snow. fuck. snow.
the tall blond had entered the lab and was walking up to your desk with his usual self-assured smile and red uniform.
“y/n, good evening.”
“snow.”
his pleasant facade dropped for just a moment at your monotonous response.
“where’s dr gaul?”
you passive aggressively put down the pen you had been tapping on the desk.
“i don’t know,” you replied blandly, studying his face like you trying to read his mind. “she left like a half hour ago to ‘see to something’, but she’s not been back. i’d suggest you leave and speak to her tomorrow instead.”
coriolanus pulled a face as if thoroughly surprised that anyone could be anything less than cordial to him. it was a subtle change in expression, but you figured that’s what he was thinking.
“that’s quite alright, y/n,” he smiled mockingly, “i’ll sit right here and wait. nowhere to be tonight.”
“shocker,” you murmured, watching as snow sat in the empty chair opposite you.
the two of you stayed sat at gaul’s desk for almost 10 minutes before either of you said anything else.
“how is the apprenticeship going?” snow asked, trying to fill the awkward silence by feigning interest.
“it’s great. thanks. thrilling, actually. i’m having the time of my life. this is so much fun,” you retorted.
coriolanus raised an eyebrow and shifted in his seat. “you know, every one of gaul’s students wanted this apprenticeship. if you’re not enjoying it, i am more than certain that you could find somebody to fill the role.”
you huffed sarcastically. “oh good try, snow. i’m not giving it up that easily.”
“so i’ve heard,” he muttered.
before you could respond to that, the laboratory doors hauled open again and dr gaul finally returned.
“ah, coriolanus, good,” she welcomed, entering with purpose in her stride. “i have a small ask of the pair of you.”
there was no way in the whole of panem that this would be a ‘small’ ask, coming from her. coriolanus’ eyes widened in apprehension.
“don’t make that face at me, coriolanus snow.”
“sorry.”
“good. i must continue to deal with a situation that has arisen, i need you two to feed chupa before he gets too hungry. that’s all, then you both may leave and i shall see you," you watched her search for a rhyme, "before tomorrow’s eve.”
then she turned to leave, with you and coriolanus pulling faces of horror. ‘chupa’ was a particularly hideous and dangerous looking creature that gaul had advised you, on multiple occasions, to keep your distance from. and now she was asking you to feed him? sometimes it was like she wanted you dead.
“wait a minute,” you said hesitantly. gaul moved only her head to look at you and you regretted opening your mouth immediately. “sorry, dr gaul, you want us,” you motioned to yourself and snow, “to feed that,” you pointed at the cage where the beast appeared to be smirking.
“yes,” she replied plainly. “he will eat anything, but he most likes the small green snakes.”
with that, she left the lab again.
coriolanus looked at you, looked at chupa, then looked back at you. “what the fuck is that?”
you snorted, enjoying seeing him uncomfortable. “do you want to get the snakes, or shall i?”
“you get them,” he spoke quickly. “i don’t like snakes.”
you were suspicious at this apparently strong aversion to the slithering reptiles. perhaps they’d scared him when he was younger, and never shook it off. or perhaps one had bitten him. you imagined him flailing his arms and screaming and it made you chuckle to yourself as you took a jar half-filled with thin, forest green snakes. they weren’t venomous, in fact they were quite amiable and undeserving of being fed to the ugly brute in the cage beside you. regardless, you removed two snakes from the jar and placed it back on the shelf.
coriolanus was keeping his distance, making you do all the work. lazy asshole.
“can you open the cage?” you directed snarkily. he tentatively unfastened the top of the cage, standing closer to you than he ever had before. up close, he looked like a real person. a real person who was just as real as everybody else in the capitol, not any better. he smelt better than a lot of them though. like cologne and fresh roses. you mentally chastised yourself for noticing and tried to focus on the task at hand.
your snake-holding hand slid towards chupa’s mouth, which opened to reveal a large set of sharp fangs that seemed to be moving upwards
“be careful of the fangs,” snow warned from behind you.
“thank you coriolanus, i’m so glad you told me that. i was truly about to stick my fingers into his mouth,” you retorted sarcastically, starting to feed the snakes to the disgusting creature.
he mumbled something incoherent that sounded something like “i wish you would.”
“sorry what was that, snow? did you say something,” you asked, becoming more irritated by his unhelpful presence.
as chupa finished the tail of the second snake, he bit the air above him in an attempt to get your hand for dessert, making you rapidly withdraw your hand from the cage and leap backwards. coriolanus dropped the lid in shock and it thankfully fastened itself.
when you had leapt backwards, you had leapt backwards straight into snow’s arms that he had instinctively wrapped around you in protection. his arms were stronger than they looked through his uniform jacket, and his chest much more toned. it felt beyond strange to be this close to him. but something deep inside of you suddenly yearned to be closer, and you slowly rotated yourself in his arms to face him, hands pressed against his chest.
coriolanus was looking into your eyes like nothing else was in the room. like he had never seen a person’s eyes this close before. he was looking at you like you were most incredibly fascinating thing he had ever seen.
and maybe you were; he had grown used to the capitol women throwing themselves at him. he didn’t struggle to take them home, had no issues finding a date to all the various events he attended. then there you were- snapping at him and poking fun at him, and not even waiting until his back was turned to roll your eyes or pull faces. in what he deemed a cruel twist of fate, you were the only girl in the capitol who didn’t look at him like he was god, and you were the only girl in the capitol he truly felt something deeper than momentary lust for.
his lust for you was not momentary. it was perpetual. and having you this close to him, safe and protected in his arms, confirmed for him that you needed to be his. the world bent to the will of coriolanus snow. and so would you.
in an instant where your body no longer obeyed your better judgment, you pressed your lips to coriolanus’.
he kissed you back like you were a source of oxygen, using his advantageous hold of you to force you to walk backwards towards the rows of bookshelves behind gaul’s desk without separating your lips. he swiftly checked the door to make sure nobody had snuck in before your bodies were eclipsed by the cover of the well-stocked shelves and you were roughly pushed up against them. snow continued to kiss you, moving down to your neck to leave marks sure to raise questions the next morning, then down to your collarbone, unbuttoning your blouse as he went so that his path was clear to mark you with his mouth all the way down to the waistband of your skirt. his kneeled down before you and pushed up your skirt, looking up at you for approval. you nodded, still caught up in the moment. this was fine. this felt good. it really felt good when snow removed your panties and placed your legs over his shoulders, holding you up at the waist and running his tongue along your folds, earning a loud moan from you. he withdrew his head from you skirt to shush you, before returning his tongue to your centre and flicking it against your clit. you bit onto your knuckle to absorb the sound of the whimpers escaping you. where the fuck had he learned to do this? it felt heavenly, his mouth drawing you ever closer to release with his large hands digging into your hips to keep you in position.
“coryo,” you whispered. “coryo, i’m close.”
he began to hum in acknowledgement, sending you right over the edge. a moan slipped from your mouth as you came, feeling your slick drip onto his face. he continued to lap at your juices as you rode out your orgasm, a blissful haze washing over you. if these were the skills making snow so cocky, you couldn’t fault him for that particular trait any longer. he lifted his head and smiled at you like a man who was very aware you’d just cum on his face by his manipulation. he helped you take your legs from his shoulders with a satisfied smirk when they wobbled under the weight of your body, then he kissed you again, softer this time, to force you to taste yourself on his tongue. you reached your hand forward to his crotch, palming him through his constricting pants. he indulged you for a minute, then removed your hand and lifted it to his lips like a true gentlemen.
you felt a little disappointed to not repay the favour, finally feeling content with your formerly repressed lust for the man.
but then he leaned down to your ear and whispered in a low tone, “you can owe me one,” before giving you one last lewd kiss and leaving you stood behind the bookshelves in the head gamemaker’s office with messed up hair and a realisation that you really wanted coriolanus snow to come and visit after hours again tomorrow.
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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months
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you, her, me | joel & tommy miller
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Summary | It was never going to be as easy as getting pregnant on the first try. Tommy is away, working on some project out of town, when your next ovulation test tells you it's time to go. You resign yourself to another month without what you want the most, until Tommy suggests distance needn't change your plans.
Warnings | Y'all. You know what this is. Alcohol consumption, Girlfriend sharing, breeding kink, fingering (F), oral sex (F receiving), unprotected PiV sex, Tommy yet again getting cucked (but softly), phone sex, praise kink, Joel just being a fucking stud and a dirty talking menace once again. No use of Y/N, no outbreak AU.
Word Count | 3.8k
Authors Note | Well. Part one blew up, and it was never going to take first time around was it? Thank you for all the love on this first time around. Hope you enjoy this one just as much. If you like this, please consider reblogging, commenting or popping into my ask box with some love!
Part One | Main Masterlist
It’s not like you hadn’t expected it, but that single line on the pregnancy test still annoyed you. You’d done everything right, waited until the perfect possible time to let Joel fuck you and it still hadn’t taken. Tommy had been incredibly understanding, squeezing your arm and resigning both of you to the fact you’d just have to try again. Not that it would be a terrible thing to have to try again. Joel had been…. Well, Joel had been incredible, and if it were going to feel like that every time you had to try then you surely wouldn’t complain, especially if you could have Tommy’s eyes on you the whole time. 
That’s why, when you take the ovulation test the next month, and that smiling face is looking up at you, your stomach drops, because Tommy isn’t here. He’s gone for the whole week, working on some project out of town so Joel could stay with Sarah. You resign yourself to another month with an empty womb, throwing the test in the bin with fury. 
Tommy phones you that night, fills you in on his day on the jobsite, tells you exactly what he had for dinner, exactly what was on the TV, before he picks up something isn’t quite right on the other end of the phone. 
“What’s wrong, sugar?” His warm voice soothes down the phone pressed to your ear. 
“Nothing is wrong,” Your tone dismissive yet defensive, all at the same time, you sigh, this man knows you more intimately than anyone else, he knows something is wrong, “I took one of those stupid tests and it says it’s time to try again, guess I’m just frustrated that this is another month wasted.” 
He chuckles on the other end of the phone, “It doesn’t need to be wasted.” 
“But you aren’t here.” You point out. 
“Do I have to be?” You’re silent in response, “I don’t physically need to be there to keep an eye on things,” You can almost hear the smirk in his voice, “Or an ear.” 
The coffee you’re drinking splutters from your mouth as you cough, understanding exactly what Tommy is insinuating, “You want me to phone you?” You ask, making sure you’re understanding correctly, “Phone you whilst Joel fucks me?” 
“I sure do, sugar.” 
“And you’re cool with us being here alone?” 
“Shouldn’t I be?” He asks, “Like I said the first time, it doesn’t mean anything, I know he ain’t gonna try anythin’ stupid, so I don’t see why you shouldn’t be able to take what you want from him.” 
“Okay,” You relent after a few moments, “I’ll call him tomorrow, it’s getting late.” 
“Alright sugar,” Tommy replies, “Sleep tight and I’ll speak to you tomorrow.” 
You don’t know why, but it takes hours for you to build up enough courage to phone Joel. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to wait this month out, wait for Tommy so he could be here. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Joel, far from it, but there was something about knowing the love of your life was in the room whilst his brother tried to get you pregnant that put you as at ease with the situation as you could be. 
You’ve spoken to Joel countless times on the phone, but in order to even dial his number, it takes nearly 24 hours and a glass of wine. When you hold the phone to your ear, you almost hang up, but you leave it too long because Joel’s sweet Southern drawl is greeting you. 
“You alright, sweetheart?” 
“Oh yeah, I’m fine,” You reply, “How are you?” You curse yourself, inwardly cringing at how unsure you sound. 
“Yeah, m’all good over here,” He responds, “You need somethin’?” 
“Well, actually yeah, I do,” You rub at the back of your neck, “I um… I did one of those tests and it says I’m good to go, to like, try again, so yeah, this is me phoning to say that and make a really fucking terrible job of asking if you’d help again.” 
You hear him chuckle on the other end of the phone, “Sarah’s at a sleepover tonight, I can be with you in an hour?” 
“Okay, yeah, that sounds good, I’ll see you in a while.” 
“See you soon, pretty girl.” 
Pretty girl? Fucking hell. Joel had always been a flirt, smiles and smirks and little nicknames, but he’d never once crossed the line with you. Knew you had eyes for his little brother, would never get in the way of that. He’d never crossed that line until you’d invited him, point blank to do so. You had to remind yourself that he was only doing you a favour. A really massive, incredibly fucked up favour, but a favour none-the-less, and once that had been achieved that was it. He’d just go back to basically being your brother-in-law, wouldn’t he? 
An hour later, you’d swapped the wine for a glass of whiskey, just like the first time. There’s a tentative knock at the door, which has you downing the last of the liquid before you open the door for Joel. He’s similarly dressed as last time, dark jeans and a flannel shirt open over a dark t-shirt. He’d obviously showered before coming over, hair mostly dry apart from the very ends of his curls. These damn Miller brother’s won the gene jackpot because in the setting sun, Joel is fucking beautiful. 
He leans down, pulling you into a hug, “Evenin’, darlin’,” He whispers into your ear before letting you go, “You gonna invite me in?” He asks, when you don’t move to let him in. 
“Oh, yeah, sorry!” You exclaim, stepping back, “Come on in.” 
When you close the door behind him and turn around, you can feel the tension in the air. He’s wandering aimlessly through the open living space, standing with his hands in his pockets. It’s weird. You can feel the butterflies settling into your tummy already. 
“You know, you don’t need to make me feel good, right?” You muse, stepping from foot to foot by the door, “You can just fuck me and leave.” 
His head drops as he snorts through his nose, “Darlin’, I can’t in good conscience let you conceive a child if you don’t come at least twice.” 
“But….” 
Joel interrupts, “Answer me this, pretty girl,” He growls, “If I were Tommy right now, how many would he give you?” 
You think for a moment, “Probably three,” You shrug, “Once with his fingers, once with his mouth, then he’d make me come on his cock.” 
He smirks, knowing you’ve proven his point, “Well then, get that pretty ass over here and let me make you feel good.” 
He’s holding out a hand for you, coaxing you to come towards him, which you take gladly, suddenly feeling like you’re in some weird form of trance. He takes your hand in his, leads to you the couch and sits down. You’re standing in front of him, his face level with your tummy. He takes those wide palms and drags them up the backs of your legs, under the material of your dress to settle on the supple skin of your ass. 
“I gotta call Tommy,” You speak quietly, “Wanted to listen in.” 
“You can call him in a minute,” Joel’s voice is commanding as he kisses your tummy through the material of your dress, “Let me give you one first, get you nice and relaxed, yeah?” 
Joel puts his palms on your hips and turns you around, puts his fingers into the waistband of your underwear and drags them down your legs. When they pool at your feet, you step out of them, Joel’s hands keeping you balanced before he’s pulling you down onto his lap. He’s got his legs closed together, yours straddling either side of his. One of his hands is pressed on your tummy, pulling you flush back into him, the other is already snaking between your thighs, held open by his legs in the middle. 
You take a deep breath, and let yourself sink into his body, broad chest acting as a weighted comfort. His lips start to trail hot kisses down the side of your neck and onto your shoulder as he runs his fingers down the seam of your pussy. Joel’s fingers dip just below, and you hear him gasp and then chuckle when you’re already wet. 
“Pretty girl,” He coos into your ear, “You been thinkin’ about me? Thinkin’ about how good I made you feel last time?” 
You don’t reply, just tip your head back to rest on Joel’s shoulder, sighing in pleasure as he drags his fingers through the folds of your pussy, fingers brushing ever so gently across your clit, “So fuckin’ wet for me, darlin’,” He groans, letting his fingers dip back down, “So wet, so easy for me to do this.” 
He slips two fingers inside your pussy with ease, immediately hooking them in just the right way that has you keening, hips bucking in time with his slow thrusts. The hand he had on your tummy is moving downwards now too, dragging slowly across your mound until he’s got his middle finger touching your clit, two fingers still buried inside you. 
“Joel – fuck – Oh God.” You moan, his fingers applying more pressure to your clit now, setting your skin aflame. 
“You like that, huh?” His lips are still trailing hot kisses along the skin of your neck and shoulders, “Can feel that pretty pussy clenchin’ around my fingers already,” You can feel his smirk on your skin, “Gonna be so easy to finish you off, pretty girl.” 
He proves his point in minutes. His fingers begin speeding up, thrusting into your aching heat, curling just right to his that spot inside you, whilst his finger doesn’t let up with its tight circles across your clit. 
“I’m gonna – fuck Joel, I’m gonna come.” 
“That’s it baby girl,” His voice is low and you can feel his solid cock under your ass already, “Let go for me.” 
You do just that. Thighs shaking, Joel’s name falling from your mouth as your first orgasm slams right into you. He’s pulled his fingers from your pussy, walls clenching around nothing, but his fingers are still tracing those gentle movements along your clit, working you through the aftershocks. Once he’s sure he’s milked you for every second of your orgasm, he presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. 
“Up you get.” He taps his hand on your thigh, helping you to stand. 
He switches your places, you sit on the couch, legs spread with your wet cunt on display, him dropping to his knees in front of you, hooking your legs over his shoulders. You’ve barely had time to catch your breath before his mouth presses a soft kiss to your clit that has an obscene moan dropping from your lips. 
“Phone him,” Joel murmurs against your skin, motioning to your mobile phone on the side table, “Bet he’d love listening to you gettin’ your pussy ate.” 
You push yourself up just far enough to be able to grab your phone, fumbling with the keys as Joel continues to press teasing kisses along the skin of your thighs. You hit dial on Tommy’s number, listening as it rings three times before he picks up. 
“Hey sugar.” He greets. 
Joel can obviously hear his brother’s voice, because he chooses this moment to take his tongue and lick a wide stripe up your sex with the flat of his tongue, dipping between your folds to flick your clit. 
“Hey baby,” You reply, looking down at Joel’s face between your legs, “Your brother is here.” 
“That so?” You can hear him shuffling about on the other end, “You wanna tell me what he’s doin’?” 
Joel uses one of his big hands to spread your pussy open for him, taking his tongue all the way down to your weeping core, where he literally drinks from you, lapping up your slick like he’s gone forty days and forty nights without water. 
“He’s got his face between my legs Tommy,” You groan, “Eating my pussy so fucking well for me.” 
“Let me hear you, sugar,” Tommy coaxes, “He makin’ you feel good?” 
Joel’s tongue works its way up your pussy, tracing circles over your sensitive clit with the tip of his tongue. You let out an obscene moan down the phone, hips moving towards Joel’s face to chase more. You need more. You want more. His mouth needs to be closer to you. 
“So good baby,” You moan, free hand tangling in Joel’s hair, as he focuses all the attention of his tongue to your clit, “He’s going to make me come.” 
“Go on baby,” Tommy speaks, you can hear the clinking of his belt in the distance, and you know exactly what he’s going, “Let go for him.” 
Joel doesn’t even have to add his fingers to the equation this time. He wraps those perfect lips around your clit and sucks, tongue still flicking desperately over the sensitive bud, and you’re gone. Body arching off the couch, thighs clasped around his face as you cry out. You can hear Tommy on the other end of the phone chuckling, coaxing you through it, telling you what a good girl you’ve been. 
Joel finishes between your thighs with a final kiss to your clit before he’s pushing himself up off the floor. You’re taking deep breathes, pulling the phone from your ear to put Tommy on speaker phone, setting the phone back down on the side table while you stand, shedding your dress to leave you completely naked in front of Joel. He eyes you as he takes off his own clothes, letting out a low whistle, turning his head to the phone. 
“Fuckin’ hell brother,” He comments, letting a low whistle out, “You’re a lucky son of a bitch, getting to see her naked like this every day.” 
The tinny reverb of Tommy’s voice barking a laugh down the phone makes you smile. The way these two men have opened up and worshipped you, both in their own ways, but worship none the less, makes you feel like a goddess. Makes you swell with pride. You watch intently as Joel sheds the last of his clothes, letting your eyes drag over every inch of skin he reveals to you as each second passes. Then, once he’s as naked as you are, cock sprung to attention, he sits himself back down on the couch, guiding you to straddle his hips. 
“Gonna take what you want from me, pretty girl?” Joel asks, looking up at you with those big brown eyes, his big hands are guiding your hips, head of his cock nudging through the wetness of your slick cunt to push ever so slightly inside you. 
You let yourself sink fully down onto him, throwing your head back as that feeling off fullness you remember from last time. Joel drags his hands up your body, resting both on your ribcage, head coming forward to capture one of your tits in his mouth, sucking a nipple into his mouth to shower attention to it with his tongue. 
You grind your hips into his own, reveling in the way his palms squeeze your sides, teeth sinking into the skin of your breast. You settle your arms around Joel’s neck, one hand tangling in the curls at the nape of his neck as you lean back a little, hips grinding into his. The angle has you grinding your clit into his skin in just the right way. 
“Fuck,” He hisses, pulling himself away from you, “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?” He teases, “I can feel that cunt clenching my cock baby.” 
You can hear Tommy groan on the phone, “Sugar, you’re so easy to please.” He speaks out from the side table. 
Joel’s hands grip your hips, guiding you to keep grinding on his cock like you are. It’s overwhelming, there is no other thought in your mind right now other than chasing the next high you can feel building in your lower body. Focused on nothing but grinding your body into Joel’s solid presence underneath you. Focused on listening to Tommy continuously praise you for being a perfect girl for them both. 
“Tommy, fuck-” Joel breathes out, “I wish you could see her right now; she looks so fuckin’ good bouncing on my cock.” 
“Brother, I get to see her like this all the time,” He groans, “You enjoy her for yourself right now.” 
“Joel- please…” You beg, orgasm so close you could reach out and touch it, “I’m so fucking close.” 
“Go on, pretty girl,” Hands on your ass to continue the guiding of your movements, “I know you can do it for me.” 
And he’s right. He’s always fucking right. You grind yourself into him a few more times before white spots burst into your vision, and you feel yourself let go in a way you’ve never known before. Slick dripping down Joel’s cock, a literally scream on your lips as he pulls your body to his, finally slamming his cock into your tight cunt in earnest. 
“There’s three, baby girl.” He whispers into your ear, just for you to hear. His brother doesn’t need to know he’s issued himself a personal challenge to make you come more than he does. That’s just for the two of you to know. 
Your forehead is rested on his, cock stilled inside you to give you a moment to gather yourself. When you look into his eyes there’s something in those brown orbs, something daring you to lean forward. Press your lips to his own and let him devour you entirely. Let him have every piece of you. You almost do it, then you hear Tommy moan on the other end of the phone, breaking the spell between you and Joel. 
Something snaps behind his eyes. He gathers you, flipping you over until he has your legs hooked around his elbows, pussy spread for him, bent almost in half before he slams his thick cock into you, setting a bruising pace that has your breath hitching in your throat. It’s so hard and intense that tears are gathering in the corners of your eyes. The sounds of Joel’s skin slapping against you and his groans, your high-pitched whines drown out any noise that Tommy might be making over the phone. 
“Don’t worry,” Joel manages to breath out, seeing the tears dripping down your face, “Gonna give you what you need, hot mama.” 
“Please,” You beg, the sound hitting your own ears, weak and pathetic and truly at this man’s mercy, “Fill me up Joel, fuck a baby into me.” 
“Touch yourself,” He demands, “You got one more for me, I know you do, pretty girl.” 
It takes all your strength to do as he asks, fingers seeking out your clit. The touch you place to it is blurring the line between pleasure and pain, but when Joel is looking down at you like he is now, watching his cock split you in half, watching your face as you moan, touching yourself, you resign yourself to keep going, chase one more high with him. 
He drops one of your legs from its place hooked around his elbow, big hand coming to rest over your tummy, “Fuck Tommy,” He calls out, clearly only moments away from coming deep inside you, his fingers stroking the soft skin as his eyes train on your belly, “She’s gonna look so good when I finally knock her up for you, all swollen and perfect.” 
It’s the image that finishes you off this time. You close your eyes tight, pulling your hand from your clit as soon as you’re arching up into Joel, calling his name into the dark of the room, hands gripping at his biceps, nails forming perfect half-moons in his skin.  
“Good girl,” Joel praises, “Gonna fill you up now baby, you ready for me?” 
“Give it to me,” you demand, hands flying to grip the cheeks of his ass, bringing him in closer to you, “Joel please.” 
You don’t need to ask twice. Joel stills inside your spent cunt and you can feel his cock throbbing inside you, coating your walls with his seed. He rests his head on your chest, pulling in as much breath as he can, before he’s groaning, pulling himself out of you. He leans over and picks up the phone, taking it off speaker to hand it to you, then he disappears to the kitchen. 
“You okay, sugar?” Tommy asks, voice soft at the other end of the phone. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” You mumble, closing your spread legs and bringing them up to your chest, trying to keep as much of Joel’s cum inside you as possible, “Tired.” 
“Did so good for us again, didn’t you?” You smile, responding with a quiet ��mmm hmm’, “Yeah that’s right, so good for me sugar,” He clears his throat on the other end of the phone, “You make sure Joel gets you to bed alright?” Another response that’s just a noise from you, “I’ll see you tomorrow.” 
You mumble a goodbye and hang up the phone, just in time for Joel to appear with a glass of water. He sits on the edge of the couch, helping you to sit up so you can take big gulps of the liquid. One of his hands is settled on your thigh, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. 
“Y’alright?” He asks. 
“Yeah, I’m good,” You smile, “Tommy says you have to put me to bed.” 
Joel chuckles, “Course he did,” He stands, taking the almost empty glass from your hand before he slips one arm under your knees, the other across the small of your back, lifting you easily from the couch, “Come on then.” 
He walks you up the stairs and into your bedroom. You’re warm and pliant and you smile as he pulls the duvet up and over you, settling you into bed with a soft kiss pressed to your forehead, “I’ll see you in the morning, pretty girl.” He muses as you drift off to sleep. 
Joel lifts himself from the bed when your breathing settles, stopping briefly to look at you from the doorway before he heads back downstairs and dresses himself. He pours himself a glass of Tommy’s finest whiskey, letting his head drop to the back of the couch. He would stay tonight, downstairs, just in case you needed someone. Just in case you woke up and needed someone to soothe you. He didn’t know how Tommy had been last time once he’d gone home but he bets you needed the comfort. Someone to tell you it would be alright, that you’d done the right thing. It takes all his strength not to stand, strip his clothes back off and settle himself in bed behind you, strong arms wrapped around you to keep you safe. Make you feel secure. He would stay here tonight, just in case you needed him. 
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Note
i found your blog today and i’m so obsessed, i love it smmm! i was wondering if you could do a oneshot where reader finds out she’s pregnant and rafe is so sweet and supportive abt it. like he immediately starts treating her like she’s fragile to the touch and spoils her rotten :(((
- also idk if you do emoji anons but if you do, can i please be 🍓??
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warnings: soft!rafe, unprotected sex, pregnancy
“fuck, i’m gonna cum, baby,” rafe groaned, about to pull out so he could finish on your tummy instead. “no, no, please cum inside me rafe!” you cried out, wrapping your legs around his waist so he couldn’t move. “shit- are you sure?” a groan fell from his lips, his hips stuttering as he continued thrusting into you. he grabbed your chin, making you look him in the eyes as you nodded frantically. “yes, i’m sure. fill me up!” your words pushed him over the edge, both of you moaning in unison as he emptied himself inside of you
now, nearly a month later, here you were staring down at two pink lines. you chewed your lip nervously, taking a second test to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you. sure enough, the pink lines showed up darker than the first ones. “i’m so pregnant.” you whispered to yourself, a smile forming on your lips as you used a pillow to muffle your scream. “no way!” you squealed, freezing once you realized you needed to tell rafe. “oh, fuck..” you glanced at the time on your phone, 4:30 PM. only thirty minutes left until he got home.
you rushed back into the bathroom, grabbing the tests and hiding them in the drawer. your mind was racing a million miles a minute, trying to figure out how you’d break the news. you changed out of your clothes and into rafe’s favorite summer dress, quickly freshening up your hair. by the time rafe walked through the door, you were buzzing with excitement, fiddling with the ring on your finger. “hey, baby.” he pulled you into a hug, his arms swallowing whole. “how was that meeting with your dad?” you let him carry you to the couch, both of you sinking into the cushions with a sigh.
“good, real good,” he nodded. “it was funny, we met up with this family and they had these kids running around. ‘was real cute.” rafe smiled. “that was all my dad talked about on the way home, ‘said he needed to be a grandpa already.” he shook his head. you couldn’t help but gaze up at him. “what do you think about that? having kids?” rafe looked down at you, his eyes growing soft as he traced the curve of your lips. “oh, man. when that time comes, there wouldn’t be no doubt in my mind that you’d be the most amazing mother to our babies.” he kissed your knuckles.
you couldn’t help the tears from welling in your eyes, rafe immediately pulling you against his chest. “what’s wrong, love? was it something i said?” he tucked your hair behind your ear. “no, it’s just.. i feel like i really needed to hear that.” you smiled, rubbing his chest. “you needed to hear me say that you’d be a great mother to our babies?” rafe sounded slightly confused, making you stand up. “stay here, i’m gonna get something.” your heart beat in your ears the whole way up and down the stairs, your hands shaking as you showed him the positive pregnancy tests.
he stared for a moment, slowly taking them from you. rafe was silent for a long time, tears rolling down his cheeks when he finally looked up at you. “oh, my god.” he stood up, hands reaching out touch you as if you weren’t real. “oh, my god, baby..” he lowered himself on his knees, lining his head up with your stomach. he wrapped his arms around you, clutching the hem of your dress as he cried into your skin. “are you happy?” you squeaked out, running your fingers through his buzzed hair. “are you kidding me? this is the best day of my life.” he sniffled. picking you up bridal style, and carrying you upstairs.
“i’ve wanted this for a very long time.” he kissed you, laying you down ever so gently. “we’re going shopping first thing tomorrow,” he kicked off his shoes, “what’s that app you’re always on? picnic? painter?” you laughed. “pinterest, rafe.” he nodded, “yeah that,” he settled in next to you, draping an arm across your torso. “we’ll start looking for inspiration for the nursery, oh! and we should probably tell our families once we’re in the safe zone, just to make sure everything’s alright..” you sighed, tracing shapes into his skin as you shut your eyes momentarily. “thank you.” rafe rested his head in the crook of your neck, “no, thank you.”
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thesmallonesblog · 3 months
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Just a Jeonghan voice message sucking up to you basically...
Hey it's me. Your boy. Your fave. The one you dream about every night. At least I hope you do or we have a lot to talk about.
I know it's late and you're asleep or just avoiding my calls which if so, ouch. What if I was in danger, in need, lost and alone and afraid? Then what?
I know you're rolling your eyes at that last part.
I know depite the dramatics you're intrigued as to why I'm calling though.
The reason?
You.
After we dropped you off at home Gyu and I were talking and you know what he had the audacity to say to me? That you were going to get a restraining order aganist me if I keep staring at you the way I do. I told him to stop being so dramatic. He's just jealous that I don't give him the attention that I give you.
He didn't deny it either.
But it got me thinking. I don't think I told you once tonight how beautiful you looked. I was so caught up in taking you all in that I was at a loss for words when it came to telling you how you made my heart do backflips. I could have stared at you all night.
The way your whole face lit up whenever Hoshi told you one of his horrible jokes. The way your eyes crinkled at the corners, your laugh filling my ears like the purest music. How animated you got, almost like you were living every moment of the elabote stories Seungkwan kept telling you from our tour.
I can't get enough of you. I never want to get enough of you. I want to keep you close to me always so that I can see you enjoying life. To hear your laugh, To take in your beauty. My world is brighter with you in it. It's complete. I couldn't ask for amything more in this life. I feel so foolish for not being able to tell you this all in person. When I see you tomorrow I'm sure I'll tell you this all again and more. I just couldn't go to sleep without telling you.
And if you listen to this and happen to think 'Hey you know what, this guy is crazy and maybe I should get a restraining order' I'm blaming Gyu for manifesting it and it wont' be pretty.
Please don't let Gyu win this battle - it'll go right to his head and I'll never hear the end of it.
But more so, don't because I need you in my life, I want you in my life and I don't want that to change.
Ok, I think I've poured enough of my heart out to your voicemail for one night. I can't promise I won't do it again tomorrow night.
Maybe you do need a restraining order aganist me.
Ok, love you, miss you BYE
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nathaslosthershit · 9 months
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Baby Fever and Annoying Brothers||Quinn Hughes x Reader
Pairing: Quinn Hughes x Reader
Request: Could I get Quinn Hughes with baby fever and his brothers there to make fun of it?
Summary: Quinn gets baby fever real bad and his brothers bug him to propose
A/n: Listen I wasn’t a Quinn girly before but that has recently changed so thank you for these requests
Word Count: 700+
“Quinn, dude, come on let's go.” Luke complained. The brothers had been trying to start a basketball game for the past 45 minutes. Jack and Luke were ready, but Quinn kept pushing it off with a simple ‘5 more minutes then i'll be ready’.
What, you may ask, was keeping Quinn from playing a game with his family? The sight of his girlfriend interacting with the baby of a family friend of theirs. It was quite possibly the most addicting and adorable sight he has ever seen. 
He couldn’t take his eyes off of it, no matter how hard he tried. The whole scene was beautiful. Outside, on the lawn chairs in the backyard, laid his girlfriend of 4 years gently swaying a now sleeping infant in her arms as she quietly spoke to the baby’s mother as well as his own mom. 
“Quinn this is getting-” Jack was cut off when he saw it. His older brother sitting there, oblivious to the heart eyes he was making. It was hilarious to him. His big brother practically brought to his knees at the sight of his longtime girlfriend holding a baby. 
As he stood next to Luke, Quinn finally was pulled out of his trance. Embarrassed at his brother's gawking, he finally went to play basketball. 
But of course the two youngest Hughes couldn’t just not bring it up. It was their brotherly duty to chirp Quinn into his place.
“So when are you gonna actually purpose?” Jack asked. At this, Luke elbowed him in the side, hard. 
“Come on dude let him live” Luke reprimanded.
“Thank you, Luke.” Quinn responded.
“No but seriously, he is right. You spend almost an hour staring at your girlfriend for holding a fucking baby. I know you’ve got a bad case of baby fever after that. When are you gonna actually get started on that shit? Unless you don’t plan on going the whole marital route before kids. I don't’ really know how some people would thi-”
“Can you both please just shut the fuck up about it.”
“Come on, Quinn, we are just chirping you. Although we saw the way you were looking at her. You sure that hasn’t changed anything…” Jack teased. 
He was right of course. While he was staring, he was also envisioning a life with her. A life with his beautiful wife, in a beautiful home, with kids to fill it. Maybe they’d have one, or maybe a whole hockey team. Who’s to say? The last thing he wanted though, was to be discussing it with his brothers when they would just tease him.
“No, nothing has changed. Although things may happen sooner-” “What the fuck does that mean?” Luke asked.
“I just- I don’t need kids right this second.” Quinn stated.
“But?”
“But I do have a ring. I’ve kept it in my hockey bag for the last few months. I just- I just don’t know when I’m gonna propose.”
“Quinn why the fuck didn’t you tell us?” Jack practically yelled.
“Does mom know? She will flip the fuck out if you got it and didn’t tell her?” Luke asked.
“Yes, she knows. She has been bugging me about it every single day. Trying to give me ideas and such but I just need to find the right time and place.”
“Isn’t now the right time and place though? You are with family, in a pretty fucking beautiful place. I mean what's stopping you from taking her on the boat tomorrow and doing it.” Jack joked. But he was right. You had once stated, while intoxicated, that you would have killed Quinn if he proposed in public, as if that was something he would ever do. The secluded boat would be the perfect place.
Quinn smiled to himself as he came to this revelation. He would propose, soon, and get started on the life he had envisioned. He didn’t answer either of them or tell them about his plans, but one look at his face and his brothers knew. They both shared a look as their absolutely smitten older brother went to grab the ball.
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mxqdii · 8 months
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nott into you - m.s
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pairings: nott reader x mattheo riddle
summary: reader's brother is theodore nott and develops feelings for his best friend mattheo
warning(s): drinking, brief makeout drugs.
not proofread
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FRIDAY:
my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.
it's funny how a week can change everything.
okay! i know this looks really wrong, but i can explain.. let's go back to where this all started, monday.
-1 WEEK PRIOR.-
MONDAY:
i sit in potions, bored as ever at snapes lesson, feeling eyes on me.
i look over seeing mattheo riddle staring, which isn't totally weird, considering we've been friend's since first year, just abnormal.
this time it's different though, like some weird tension in the air, i feel as if red smoke is filling my lungs and calling out mattheo's name.
snapping out of it, i clear my throat and focus my attention onto the horribly boring, lesson
the class ends sooner than later and i take my time to collect my stuff, not noticing mattheo waiting for me.
i head to the door and meet eyes with him
"waiting for me, riddle?" i question and his lips curl upwards
"i might be, walk with me will you?" he asks and i nod, following wherever he's going.
"i noticed you staring" i mumble
"yeah and i noticed you drooling" he says and i scoff
"you think too highly of yourself riddle" i professed
"mmh i'm not so sure about that, have you met your brother?" he adds on and i realize
my brother, shit.
this flirty banter shouldn't even be happening right now, considering if theo saw he would absolutely loose his shit.
"yeah thats theo, uh- anyways i gotta go, nice talking to you riddle!-" i say in a rush, walking the other direction.
TUESDAY:
i hear the door open and look up seeing pansy, i'm currently in the slytherin common room working on some extra homework.
"hey" she says, plopping down next to me
"hey pans whats up?" i ask, putting my books down.
"okay so, i know this is a long shot.. buuuttt, there's a party tomorrow and before you say no just please please think about going!" she says the last part really fast and i laugh
"who's throwing it?" i question and she squints her eyes
"we are..?" she mumbles and my eyes widen
"pansy what!?!" i yell
"okay i know it seems bad, but some first years accidentally heard me saying how slytherin parties are the best and one thing led to another and all of a sudden i had to prove it was true and now everyones expecting a party tomorrow night and i need your help!" she rambles and i sigh
"fine."
later that day, i cross paths with mattheo again.
who cares what my brother thinks or wants for me, it's my life.
"hey mattheo, sorry about yesterday" i say with a smile and he nods
"don't worry about it sweetheart" the name makes my cheeks flush.
we kinda just stand there looking into eachothers eyes for a moment, i'm not sure how it was, but i definitely looked full of lust.
he moves closer to my ear, whispering
"you're drooling again"
i roll my eyes throwing in a, "you wish"
WEDNESDAY:
the party is all set up, and it took HOURS.
me and pansy had to rush right when classes ended to get everything ready
we're supposed to start the party in an hour but before doing that, me and my friendgroup decided to have a little fun
me, pansy, theo, mattheo, draco, enzo and blaise decided to play a friendly game of truth or dare before letting anyone else in.
"y/n" enzo says and i let out a shakey breath, not noticable enough for anybody to hear though.
"yes enzo?" i respond, eyeing him in anticipation
"what'a a dirty secret you've been hiding lately?" he asks and i smirk
maybe i could fuck with these people in a way that wouldn't expose me, but in a way... would?
"well enzo, so glad you asked. recently there has been someone catching my eye... someone who's off limits, someone i'm not allowed to touch, you could call it forbidden, but i prefer the term secrecy." i say with a smug smile, avoiding any and all eye contact with mattheo
before anyone has time to say anything, the clock chimes and the doors to the common room open, the room flooding with people from all different houses.
the rest of the night was kinda a blur, except for the end of it.
i'm too drunk to even function right now, feeling vulnerable and anxious.
god this is why i don't go to parties.
"hey beautiful" a random gryffindor says and i make a face of disgust
"jus' leave me alone" i say in hopes of peace, turning around to walk away, but instead he grabs my wrist.
i turn back to look at him seeing the no-good look on his face
"oh no" i mumble
"are you gonna like.. do bad thing's to me" i ask
i'm never drinking again i feel like an idiot.
"you just consented to it so i might as well huh baby?" he says and i groan.
"i actually have a-" without thinking i grab someones hand, anyone to get me out of this situation would be great
"mattheo?" i say looking up, seeing its him who i grabbed
well, i was going to say boyfriend but mattheo works too.
the gryffindor boy's expression quickly changes from being in control to being scared shitless.
i'm too hazy to even feel right, not paying attention to the bickering mattheo is doing, the way he's absolutely screaming at this boy.
my hand tugs mattheos arm, causing him to look down at me
"mattheo please- just get me out of here" i say, leaning onto his arm.
fuck i'm not supposed to feel like this
THURSDAY:
the last thing i remember, is mattheo dragging me out of that party.
i think he was carrying me? or was it theo? i don't really remember.
i turn over, opening my eyes seeing mattheo next to me
what the fuck.
"g'morning princess" he says and i wince, feeling the light hit my face.
"what time is it?" i ask and see him look over to his bedside table
"like 10" he says and my eyes widen as much as they can.
"it's thursday mattheo we have class!' i yell, attempting to get up
his arm lightly pushes me down
"you need to rest, do you remember what happened last night?" he asks and i shake my head
"you were drugged and you passed out." he mumbles and my eyes widen
"who the fuck drugged me??" i exclaim
"i don't know" he says and i sigh, thinking about last night trying to remember anything i can.
i don't even realize how close me and mattheo are, the way he's shirtless and the way the sun hits his eyes, his morning voice, his soft sheets.
i look down seeing me in his shirt and i quirk an eyebrow which he notices
"no don't worry uh- pansy changed you not me" he reassures and i smile.
the rest of the day we end up just talking and laughing in his dorm, only leaving for food and water.
i gotta admit, it is awfully suspicious me leaving with him last night and waking up in his dorm, now us ditching and spending the whole day together.
but like i said before, i don't care what my brother thinks.
FRIDAY:
i'm currently getting lectured by snape for missing class and i can't help but let my mind wander to mattheo
lately, thats been all my mind is full of.
the tension has been getting thicker and my desire for him has been getting needier.
i need to tell him.
i rush out of snapes lecture as soon as he's finished, rushing to the common room.
what am i even doing, i'm being way too impulsive right now, it's fine i only live once, i have to do this. i tell myself
i reach the common room and run upstairs, knocking on mattheos dorm frantically
he opens the door and i smile, suddenly feeling all of my words leave my mind, going completely blank
then i remembered, i dont need words to tell him what i need.
without thinking, i grab his cheek and kiss him, it definitely caught him by surprise, but it did for me too.
without breaking the kiss, he leads me inside and closes the door, pinning me against it.
my hands tangled in his hair, the smell of his cologne and cigarettes filling my senses, everything just feels right.
an abrupt knock interrupts us, mattheos hand covering my mouth
"dude come on, snape is pissed you missed class and his lecture, we gotta go" a voice comes from the other side of the door.
fuck, it's my brother.
a/n: let me know if u guys want a part 2<3
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etfrin · 3 months
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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter nine | coriolanus snow
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「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 SFW | Coriolanus, hints of somnophilia/non-con [spoiler! Coriolanus steals some kisses while reader is asleep, and reader kinda does the same] | lmk if I missed anything
「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader
「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 Coriolanus leaves you to check out the arena, the night before the games and... WELL... WELL... you find him!
「ᴀ/ɴ:」 for those who asked, i tried my best to deliver, please give me your feedback and reblog! Thank you!
Beta read by the FABULOUS @nowitsmissing
series masterlist | navigation
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Coriolanus Snow left you alone. He had to sneak out and check out the arena. The Hunger Games would continue forward. He needed any leverage he could get. Even if it meant to leave your side for the night. He found his clothes in the same bag that you had kept empty of food in. He changed into them.
He bites his lower lip to distract himself from the pain. This was of higher priority. He could rest when he wins. At least, that's what he tells himself as he finishes buttoning off his shirt. Before he could walk out of the room, he leaned down. Your eyelashes were big up close, and so, so enchanting. He felt annoyed that he noticed such a minuscule thing. It was not of importance how long or short your eyelashes are, they added to your beauty.
He couldn't talk himself out of it, he pressed his lips to yours. Your lips were soft. Your lips were perfect. Your lips were poisonous, and addicting because how could he ever stop himself after he already had a taste? So he pressed another kiss to your lips, a bit harder than the previous peck. He pulls away with a gasp and swallows his shame roughly.
“I'll be back,” he whispered to you before he pressed another kiss, unable to stop himself. There was nothing friendly about this. This was a man at the edge of the cliff, one more step and he would fall into a pit of obsession. Nobody can drag him out of it. He barely stops himself from stealing another kiss from you. He forces his legs to walk away from you, it pained him more than any of his physical wounds.
The security around the arena was nonexistent, each peacekeeper in guard sleeping. He slipped right in, checking out the debris. The middle of the arena had huge blocks of fallen pieces of debris, all the weapons will be placed there tomorrow. He checked out around the area and found tunnels to go under and even a vent to hide in.
He turned around ready to leave and relay all of this to Lucy Gray Baird. However, an uncharacteristic yell leaves his lips as he sees you. Your arms are crossed in front of your chest and your face in a frown. So unlike how he left you on the bed resting. He swallows and wonders briefly if you informed anyone of his breaking. He was also curious about how you found him.
It's not like he has a tracker on him, right?
“How did you find me here?” He asked, nervous and tried not to fidget too much.
“I just thought ‘What is the most stupid thing Coriolanus can do?’” your voice turns sarcastic, “Surprise! It led me here.”
“Very funny,” he mutters, not amused at all, “And it's Coryo now.”
“You lost your ‘Coryo’ privilege, Snow.”
Guess he will just have to earn it back.
He pouts, knowing exactly why you were mad. But certainly, you could see the reason why he had to leave despite being freshly injured. He had to survey the place! Get leverage! He has to win at all, otherwise, what's the price of his life?
You walked up to him, pulling him down by his shirt collar. His breath hits your lips. And he could kiss you again. Of course, he didn't. He wanted to steal another kiss so bad that a soft nearly audible whisper of your name fills the air.
“You didn't even leave a note or a warning or anything.”
“Sorry,” he whispered, hoping that apologizing despite not regretting his actions would fix everything. Or at least get his nickname privileges back.
You scoff, “You don't even mean it, Coryo.”
You called him Coryo again, he didn't need to mean it. He would take the win. He gives you a small smile. “I am sorry,” he repeated, trying to put some heart into it.
“A liar and a thief,” you whispered, your eyes glinting with an emotion he couldn't decipher, “Truly one of a kind you are, Coriolanus.”
He frowned. He understood the fact he was indeed a liar. But where did the talk of being a thief come from? Before he could question you further about calling him a thief. You begin to drag him back into your car on the cold night. He sits at the window seat in the front, you beside him. He didn't ask if you had a driver's license. He felt like he was better without knowing.
“Was the Zoo the next location?” You asked your tone on edge with leftover anger over his actions.
“Yes,” he replied with the gentlest tone possible, not wanting anything to trigger an eruption. He fidgeted with his hands, wondering why he had come here when he could have used the night to steal kisses instead. When he could have slept with you, his arm around you and your heartbeat matching his. Such an ideal night, and he ruined it.
“So what did you find, pretty boy?” You asked.
He blushed at the nickname you called him. He doesn't give attention to his heated cheeks as he replies rather enthusiastically about everything (not everything, he kept some places a secret, only for Lucy Gray's ears to hear) and strategies (again not all of them).
You even add some pointers along the way. And he enjoyed the conversation thoroughly. He never thought he could connect with you like this, but he couldn't deny that he was happy about it. His lips stretched in a grin as you both discussed plans for Lucy Gray to win.
“Don't you care about Jessup?” He asked, the chain of conversation interrupted because he wasn't the only one with tribute. So why were you helping him?
You looked at him briefly before looking forward again. “You and I both know that poor boy is as good as dead,” you said, your voice hard, “I would rather let you win instead if I am out of the games.”
Coriolanus nods at the answer. That was understandable. “I am sorry,” this time he meant it, “I should have woken you up,” he looked at the window, ashamed, “It was a foolish thing to do to leave you alone without warning.”
“I am glad you have the brains to understand what you did wrong, and the guts to admit it,” you said, and he felt proud like he got the hardest question in an exam right. “You're forgiven as long as you don't do it again.”
He nods but doesn't make any promises. He did what he had to do. He will do it again, and take you as company the next time. That way he's not fucking up.
Soon, the car reaches its destination. He gets out of the car and you decide to stay, parked in front of the zoo gates. He quickly decided to only tell the key points to Lucy Gray because he refused to let you be alone for too long at night.
He walked into the zoo and reached the cage where he called out the Songbirds’ name. Lucy Gray appears before him with a concerned look. “Is everything alright?” She asked.
“Yes,” he confirmed and began to explain. He said not to run towards the weapons first and go to the hiding place. He tells her to wait it out and a few more strategies so she has better chances to survive and he has better chances to win. He doesn't notice Lucy Gray's tears but a sob catches his attention.
He's annoyed because it's time to listen to him and not be a child if she wants to survive tomorrow. Instead, he gives her a handkerchief he found in his pants pocket and hands it to her to wipe away her tears. He softens his tone and speaks slower. Even using easier terms to make it look like child's play.
Lucy Gray nods and agrees to his plans. She returns the handkerchief and he stuffs it back in. “It's going to be fine,” he said, “You're going to win, Lucy Gray.”
“I can pray, Coriolanus,” Lucy replied, her voice vulnerable in a way that reminded him of the fact she was a teenager like him. She even had a soulmate, Sejanus Plinth. And she loses it all if she doesn't win tomorrow.
“You will win.” He will win.
And with that, it's goodbye and Coriolanus leaves the zoo. The ride back home is quiet. You don't ask what he and Lucy Gray talked about. He doesn't offer any information either. It was a comfortable silence that he needed. He went to his old habit of stroking his soulmate's scar. Was it just him or did the scar seem to be healing?
He couldn't check it out in front of you. Within minutes you parked in front of the penthouse, and he wanted to ask you inside. There's no way he wanted you to drive alone at such late night.
But inviting you inside would mean revealing his secret. The secret that he kept for a decade. The secret was his motivation for everything. The secret that could ruin him.
Was ensuring your safety worth revealing it? He could ask you to call his landline when you reached home, but each minute until you called would be nothing less of hell for him. His mind overthinking possibilities with the result of you being hurt. He wasn't sure his poor heart could take it.
Both of you step out of the car. He can't make up his mind. He opens his mouth to invite you in or say goodbye he doesn't know. You speak first instead. Your eyes meet his blue ones.
“How many kisses did you steal, Coryo?”
He wants to lie. He knew in his mind that it wouldn't do him any good. He feels his palm sweat, his fingers itching to touch the scar to calm himself down. He was sure that he was going to have a heart attack in the next minute or so.
“Three,” he answered, ready for whatever curses and punishment you would give him for his sins. He would go on his knees for you, let the cold street scrap his skin and crimson stain the spot if it meant your forgiveness. He would grovel, and beg, strip himself of his pride for you.
Or he could manipulate you. Fill your mind with lies that it's what friends do. Being district, he doubted you had many friends of Capitol culture. He could lie, lie, and lie. It's what friends do.
As his mind fights to choose his next course of action. You flash him a vixen smile, and whisper, “You didn't have to steal them.”
He couldn't even process what you meant before you pressed a kiss on his jaw. His eyes closed and let out a shaky breath. He gasps softly when the next press of your lips is so close to his lips.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, please, kiss him.
You don't. You pull back and grin. It takes him an embarrassing moment to come back to reality. His ear burning, and his lips parted waiting for the third kiss you never gave him.
“It's what friends do,” you shrugged, lying to yourself and him. Both of you had to, there's no other way around it. Coriolanus knew why for him, but what about you? Were you simply playing with the strings of his heart? He would allow it for now.
For after the Plinth Prize, you will be his.
“Come with me,” he said, “It's not safe to be traveling so late at night.”
You agree with him without much protest. He noticed your discomfort as both of you walked up the twelve flights to reach his broken, shameful, secret home. He grits his teeth, awaiting your reaction to the truth of the Snow family.
You don't say anything. “Show me where I will be sleeping, Coryo,” you yawn instead, not even disgust on your face from the rotting wallpapers.
He is surprised and grateful. He feels an uncontrollable urge to hug you, and barely keeps himself from not wrapping his arms around you.
“I suppose you wouldn't mind sharing a bed with me,” he said, quietly, not wanting Tigris or Grandma’am to wake up. You nod in affirmation and he shows you his room with a bit of confidence. It was just as horrible as the rest of the house but it was his.
The bed in the corner with clean bed sheets. The stack of books and finished assignments on his desk. His wardrobe, the wood old and chipped. But all of it was his.
You immediately made your way to the bed and made yourself wholly comfortable. Like it was yours. And in a way, everything of his is yours. He would give it to you if you asked nicely enough, maybe throw in a kiss or two.
You pull the covers up and wait for Coryo to sleep in. Usually, he would wear his pajamas, but right now he couldn't bring himself to care. He lays down, mindful of his injury. He turns towards you. His eyes searched for yours, and the air mixed with both of your shared breaths. Not even an inch apart were both of you due to how small his bed was.
He closed his eyes and whispered goodnight. He doesn't get a reply. He fills his mind quickly falling back to the darkness as his actions catch up to him, taking away whatever strength he had left.
The last thing he feels, which surely is a dream, is a press of your lips against his. Stealing a kiss. And he hears you whisper, unsure if it's a dream or not but he will remember the words until he dies.
“I have you now, Coriolanus Snow. I won't let you go.”
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NEXT PART
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mindmelter · 4 months
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New Soldier Skin
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Nick found it weird that the doctor was calling him again for a check up, he had done one early that month and they normally don't do twice a month. But he had no choice in the matter, he was just a soldier.
"I'm feeling perfectly fine doctor, there's no need for another check up, also I'm out of duty tomorrow"
"Nonsense, It's very important that we keep track of the health of our soldiers, now stand on the scale over there please. We just want to make sure that you are ready to return to your family, I bet you must be really excited right?"
"Yes I am, Doctor, It's been a long time, can't wait to see my wife and kids back at home" He said getting on the scale.
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The doctor's friendly expression changed drastically once Nick was standing on the scale with his back to him, now the doctor had a blank and emotionless expression. The doctor walked to his laptop on his table and pressed a key.
"My wife can't wait to see me back at home, and the kids are really...huh?" The soldier looked down at his feet confused, he could feel the scale vibrating beneath his feet, he tried to take his feet off the scale but he couldn't, his feet were stuck to the scale like a magnetic force was pulling them down "That's weird, I can't pull my feet off the scale, doctor?"
"Thank you for your service, Nick" It was all the Doctor said before pressing another key on the laptop.
"What? What is..." Before Nick could finish, he felt a strong electric shock run up from his feet and spread to the rest of his body, he could feel every cell in his body being hit by the eletrical charge. His body became rigid and he grunted for a few seconds, but then the humming of the scale stopped and he fell to the floor completely hollowed out. His hollow head on the floor with smoke coming out of his orifices.
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The Doctor looked unfrazed at the lifeless bodysuit on the floor, actually, he looked even bored with the whole event.
"You can come out now, your new skin is ready" The doctor said and then the door opened and a humanoid alien entered the room. The white humanoid alien was wearing a visibly worn out and torn open human skin, it was very damaged with holes and scratches, and was also missing half the face, under the skin it displayed the alien true form, a white gelatinous goo.
"It was a shame that your last human skin was damaged in battle, you're always so careless with your skins. The General was furious." Said the Doctor.
"I know, I will be more carefull this time" The Alien said looking at the skinsuit lying on the floor, suddenly his true white form started to melt, hollowing out his current damaged skin, his gelatinous form crawled on the floor in the direction of Nick's skin and started to enter through the holes in his head, mouth, eyes, nose, ears, soon the hollow body of Nick started to inflate and gain life, Nick's flat muscles started to get bigger to their full power. The alien was filling every part of Nick with It's slimy form, filling it like a balloon.
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After a few seconds he stood up in his new human body, Nick's eyes were completely white with the gelatin alien body underneath, but they quickly started to turn into normal human eyes, now identical to Nick's eyes.
"Do you have any new assignments for me Doctor?"
"No, actually this was his last week of service before his break, you're going back to his family tomorrow"
"Are you serious? It's so boring to pretend to be a husband and a dad, You know I like the action, I want to go into combat!"
"Sorry, but I'm just following orders from the General." The Doctor said grabbing the deteriorated human skin from the floor and looking at it with a disgusted expression. "This was your fourth skin only this year" The doctor then threw the human suit inside a garbage chut on the wall, then he closed it "That's why we chose Nick to be your next skin. The General thinks it's better for you to spend some time out of combat. I know It's not fun to have to pretend to be our skins, but I guess it will be good for you to relax a little, besides you don't have to act exactly like Nick, you just have to not act too much out of character"
"Is being fucked by men too out of character for this hunky skin?" The soldier asked with a devious smile, looking at the doctor with hungry eyes.
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"As long as his wife doesn't find out..." The doctor said dropping his pants to the floor, exposing the jockstrap he was wearing.
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They both started to make out as Nick groped and squeezed the doctor's big package. Nick dropped to his knees and lowered the Doctor's jockstrap and was in awe to what he saw.
"Wow, your skin is so freaking hung!"
"He used this thing on a lot of women, but I didin't used it in a long time"
"Fill it up, I want to see how big it when completely filled"
The doctor member started to inflate like a modelling balloon in a fraction of seconds.
Nick then started to suck it while he jerked his own hard member. A few minutes later Nick was lying on the doctor's table with his burly legs up being roughly fucked by the doctor's thick cock.
"How is my health, doctor?" Asked Nick with a grin while having his hole stretched by the doctor's big member.
"You're fine... really fine. You are free to go to your new family. Just don't forget to smile and say sentimental words when you see them, like how much you missed them"
______________________
Monthly Report:
Doctor, I'm having a blast in Nick's skin, you were right, I needed a break from all the action, I can have as much action in here with a body like this, I lost count of how many guys fucked me already. Apart acting like a gay slut in the shadows, his wife and kids don't even suspect their beloved husband and daddy is just a skin now. I guess I'm doing a good job as Nick.
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End of report.
751 notes · View notes
venoti · 11 months
Text
A chance?
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Summary: Dating Miles as Miguel’s sibling.
Spider-man across the spider verse
₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊
After watching the movie, I can tell Miguel would be attached to his remaining family.
He wanted the best for you. His best thought was putting you in a seemingly safe area, earth 1610. Later, it was definitely not the best option. “Especially with miles” Thats what he said.
You were younger than Miguel. But roughed it out, talking to him occasionally and living your life. And it was normal.
Till miles, he changed everything. And yada yada, went through hardship and got together from a kiss in his room.
And in the moment it seemed amazing! But what about after..?
“So.. is it uh.. official?” He stuttered trying to keep his cool. I noticed his nervous movements, rocking his hand, whistling in the silence. I laughed before turning to him.
“Miles, theres no way I would kiss just anyone.” I muttered getting closer. His cheeks turned hot, feeling touched by those words. “So.. I’ll meet you at the rooftop tomorrow?” I smiled.
God you are hot—
He tilted his head, he felt the world disappear, only seeing you. He did a silent yes hugging me by the waist. Laughing before he went out the room happy. What will he tell his parents..?
When you told your brother, it was a easy no.
“He’s really nice!”
“That’s really funny!” He said sarcastically with a fake smile. It soon dropped. “Because I don’t believe you” He scoffed crossing his arms. I just rolled my eyes.
“You haven’t even met him..?” I snarked.
“And I don’t have too” He sighed. I waited tapping on my sude. Till getting a very.. capable idea. I took a deep breath, then went into action.
“Pleaseeee” I pleaded getting on my knees.
He choked on his spit. “Why are you doing that? Get up—!”
“Please!!” I grabbed his leg clinging on him.
“Are you serious..!” He struggled getting me off. He couldn’t just kick me, that’s the only weakness he has “Fine! Just get off..”
I shed a fake tear. “Thank you”
When miles met your brother, it was tough. He was on edge whenever he saw him, after that one talk. It was worse than anything else.
And had to swear on his life to keep you safe, and probably was not a joke. He still loves you though..?
He takes it slow for the most part, but will automatically want to smother you with love. He definitely loves affection, and texts you every day.
Even with Miguel constantly on eagle watch for him, he acted the same never changing for a person. Unless it was good, but miles never understood why Miguel had a offset grudge.
Aside that He is such a sweetheart, and likes to do things for you. He understands his job as Spider-Man, having to take most of his time into that.
So whenever he has free time he spends it with you. Drawing, ice cream, flying in air as you screamed. You both had fun.
But even with that, expect a lot of flowers and letters. They will be wrote in delicacy and cute doodles on the side.
He always gets soft when you pay attention, he just feels so appreciated. As he should
But obviously all the time spent as Spider-Man and then with you caught up with his parents.
So it was time to introduce you.
At first it was really intense, they glared at you asking constant questions, too fast for you to even answer. But they were worried for miles, that was their kid and they didn’t know if he was safe.
But after dinner, they knew he was gonna be fine. You guys actually started getting closer, and you came over more often for dinner. They started treating you like the family.
And miles only fell for you more. Every time after dinner he gave you a kiss goodbye, always filled with warmth. Even his roommate would make fun of him by how lovey dovey he gets. Especially on his hour rant about you.
“Ahh.. wow” Ganke sighed, his eyes were closing, thinking it was finally silent. Till he heard miles words again, ready to just sleep outside.
“And have you seen their smile? It was like heaven to see—!”
“Dude Just go to bed!” Ganke groaned covering his ears with the pillow. It’s 12 at night, and he preferred sleep than some talk about a person he hadn’t even met.
Mile’s was protective, he definitely wanted to make sure you weren’t ever hurt. No matter when you tried to help. His first priority was you, so making sure you are safe made him most calm.
A lot of dates. What he loved most was just sitting down in silence staring at the city. He was able to just admire you.
So overall 10/10 he’s definitely worth it. Except for the soon tension with Miguel, that will be a awkward conversation..
Which I might make a part on, thank you for reading!!
₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊
2K notes · View notes
undercoverpena · 1 month
Text
7. honey cream
frankie morales x f!reader | chapter seven of do me yourself
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summary: a meet-cute in a hardware store? impossible, out of the question. except, that's exactly what happens. a need for screws leads you to a broad-shouldered, brown-eyed man who you're sure is about to change your day, never mind your life.
wordcount: 3.9k chapter warnings: frankie calls you 'rainy' (paint-related from chp.1) no other descriptions or name used. no use of y/n. frankie being a good dad. bad tool names. anxious!reader. an: can i just say a massive thank you to all those who show up EVERY SINGLE WEEK. i adore you so much. thank you. if you're new to the ride, also welcome. even if i loved this story so much, i never expected people to love it even half as much as me, never mind the love i keep getting. so thank you.
prev chapter | series masterlist
key: frankie is in bold, you are in italics
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Nice forearm in your story.
Thanks, It’s this guy I met in a hardware store? We’ve been kind of seeing one another.
Oh, tell him he has a nice watch.
I’ve been told to tell you that you have a nice watch.
You’re hilarious.
I try to be.
You can say no to this, but do you want me to call you later?
That’ll be nice. I’ll be working late so I'll take a break when you do.
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Tomorrow, I just need to grab some bits from the store and then I’ll be with you.
Are you sure you want to spend your day off helping me paint?
I was promised to see you in overalls, so yes.
They’re nice, but please lower your expectations.
I bet they look great on your ass.
Everything looks great on my ass.
Including my hand.
Yes, specifically when you slipped your fingers in my jeans pocket on the way to brunch.
I can’t wait to see you.
Drive safely, Butterscotch.
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“I feel bad that your day off is spent painting.”
Flicking the lid off with a screwdriver, Frankie just smiles—eyes looking up at you from under his cap.
When he looks at you, you might as well be a fly irresistibly drawn to the brilliance of it, captivated by it.
He’d come in clothes that were long since paint-splattered. A set, you assume, he wears most times—an over-washed and over-loved flannel over a greying white tee, and a pair of cargos that have more pockets than you know what they could be used for.
It had been more natural when he’d arrived this time. A sweet kiss at the door, a long hug where he walks you in and his heel kicks your door shut. A muttering of 'you smell nice', into your neck—grinning over his shoulder because you’d sprayed far too much of your perfume.
“Don’t—I want to be here.”
“I think I’ll likely apologise another three times, at least, before we’re done.”
Standing, wearing a slightly twinged expression on his face, he steps over the clean trays and folded step ladders. His hand rises, turning the beak of his cap around, before he’s in front of you, staring at you before he kisses you.
Kisses you like he wishes to rid you of your worries and make your guilt wash away. Like he wants to empty your mind of things you’ve once been told, make you forget them, purge them. Fuck, his mouth almost does.
“So, rule of thumb—ceiling, walls and then kickboards, window sills.”
“Did you… Did you really just finish kissing me and immediately talk about painting?”
Grinning, he chuckles, bending down to grab a paintbrush. “Did you want me to linger on why you feel bad, or are you ready to get your hands dirty?"
You hesitate for a moment before taking the brush, fingers brushing over his. “I guess I’ll get dirty, since it’s with you.”
He seems to swallow, gaze holding yours as a soft smile tries to tug at his lips before flattening out to a line. Then, you just watch as he pours the off-white paint into the trays—its thick, glooping contents filling it quicker than you’d banked on, but he took it perfectly in his stride.
The sleeves of his flannel are rolled up, forearms flexing as he tilts the larger tub until he appears content with the measurement in the tray.
You know a thumb covered in paint shouldn’t cause your throat to dry, but it does. Your mind thinking up all the places he can leave a stamp of it, a trail of it, turn you into a map showing where he’s been—over a thigh, collarbone, your —
“Race you to the end of the wall?”
Blinking, finding him already readying his roller on the blank, sun-stained wall.
Before you can respond, he's off. The roller glides smoothly across the wall, leaving a trail of fresh paint in its wake. You laugh, shaking your head at his competitive spirit before joining him, your own brush meeting the wall—cutting in.
In time, the room fills with the rhythmic sound of brushes against the wall, the occasional laughter, and gentle conversations. The room transformed over the hours, looking fresher, already a thousand times better than it had this morning with the patches off filled in holes and cracks.
Taking the brush from your hands, you step back to the middle, looking around, not initially aware of how he’s looking at you. Not until you spot a satisfied smile and a glint in his eye.
“We did good, didn't we?”
You shrug. “Think you could do better—put your back really into rolling next time.”
Shaking his head, he throws your brush into the used tray before he’s grasping, tugging, your body connecting with his in an oomph—his reflexes quicker, arms longer than you’d expected—as laughter escapes out as you slide your hand around the back of his neck.
“Thank you. For helping me.”
“Sure,” he whispers, cheek close to yours, fingers on your hip. “Have I told you how good you look in your overalls?”
Rolling your lips, you slowly turn in his hold—all set to turn his cap for him again. To whisper to him that they’re easy to remove too, that he could slide his fingers up, even slant your mouth back over his again.
But you hear his stomach. It rumbles—practically thunderous.
“I haven’t even offered you food,” you confess, words laced with guilt. “I should make you food.”
“You don’t have to…”
Fingers entwining with his, you pull him—finding him happily following, even as he mumbles about cleaning up, that the paint will dry in the tray. You don’t loosen your hold until the two of you are in the kitchen, a hand needed to open the fridge, both required to pull out some ingredients.
“You cooking for me?”
“I’m going to try, if that’s okay?”
He leans against the counter, watching you with a soft smile.
“I'd love that, baby,” he says, the affection in his voice making your heart flutter like it keeps doing.
Before you’ve even sliced the first vegetable, Frankie excuses himself—a kiss to your cheek, all domestic, normal. It not feeling weird even as he goes back to the “project room” and you hear him tidying.
Because it’s not odd in the slightest him being here.
A thing you turn over as you continue to prepare ingredients, cutting and marinating. By the time he’s returned, sporting an amused smile on his face, you’re about to begin frying things.
“Can I do anything?”
Shaking your head, you glance at him over your shoulder, finding he’s taken up his earlier spot. “Just keep me company.”
And he does. Asking you things, questions—some about your childhood, your family, friends. Every word spoken, he hangs onto. Staring like he’s making notes in his head, committing them to memory, somewhere inside that beautiful, amazing mind of his.
“Should I get used to you cooking if I come round and help you with your project?” he teases, taking a water from the fridge like you’d instructed.
“You better not get used to it,” you retort, throwing a small piece of bell pepper at him playfully. He ducks, laughing. “I batch cook most of the time—easier when you eat for one.”
His eyes follow as you move around the kitchen with a fondness in his eyes, you focusing on not burning anything. Stomach knotting itself when it comes to dishing it up, placing it down, and watching him slide into the stool.
When he takes the first bite, you swear you are frozen—unable to move, or think. Eyes just focused on his, watching, waiting, until you breathe a sigh of relief at the way his eyes light up. “This is really good, baby.”
You can't help but feel a little proud. “Thank you.”
He raises his water in a toast. “To more cooking then,” he proposes, and you laugh, agreeing wholeheartedly.
As you stick your own fork in, it's easy to find comfort in the shared silence, a contentment you continue to be amazed at. The atmosphere all at ease. There's no need for words as you both eat, side-by-side, a relatively normal thing for most, but not for you.
But, none of it feels weird, awkward. It never has—even if part of you continues to wait for it. If anything, it continues to be comfortable, right.
Even as the food effortlessly vanishes off both of your plates, it's not until you've reached your fill that you clear your throat.
“So, how often do you have Luca?”
Chewing his food, he puts down the remainder—wiping his fingers on the napkin. “It’s a weird rota. But it works? I’ll have him in the week for two nights and then overnight on a Saturday one week and then one night in the week the following and then Friday to Sunday, and then I’ll have him for three nights in the week the following. Sometimes, extra if I have time off or I want to take him to see family.”
Nodding, you take a sip of your drink.
“Does that… bother you?”
“No! No, of course not,” you grin. “He’s the most important, in all of this. It was just curiosity, I couldn’t… I couldn’t work out the pattern.”
Chewing his cheek he smiles. “You trying to work out when I’m free?”
Shrugging, you look away, aware of the heat warming your cheeks. “Well, someone did post about brunch on their Stories…”
“I remember someone else posting my forearm on theirs.”
Smiling, you plate your cutlery down. “It’s a very nice forearm.”
Shoulder nudging you, Frankie chuckles—cutlery lined up on his plate, your hand moving to take it. Sliding around the kitchen as he begins debating what part of him will appear next, a thigh, an ankle.
“I can include all of you next time, if you like?” Hand testing the hot, soapy water filling the bowl.
“Yeah?”
Licking your lips, you smile. “I don’t cook for anyone, Morales.”
Shifting to meet your gaze, his eyes crinkle at the corners as he smiles. “Is that right, Rainy? I must be pretty special then.”
“You have no idea,” you reply, your voice a mere whisper but the words carry an immense weight, one you suspect has snuck out, and embedded itself into him.
You're quick to turn your back to him, hide the heat and shyness, as you carefully rinse off the dishes. Only hearing the stool shift at the last moment, the sound of his sock-covered feet padding around until he's standing behind you.
His presence is unmistakable, more so when he places his hands on your hips. “I think I'm beginning to,” he murmurs into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.
You turn to face him, the plates forgotten in the sink. Looking up into his eyes, seeing a reflection of things fluttering in them.
“You better,” you say, reaching up to gently stroke his cheek, “because I'm not planning on posting anyone else’s arm for a while.”
His grin widens at your words, his hands pulling you closer until your bodies are flush against each other. "Good, because I don't plan on trying brunch with anyone else."
And as he leans down to kiss you, he pauses, mouth hovering over yours. “Speaking of…”
Narrowing your eyes, you retract your head, soap suds sliding off your wrists.
“My friends… they want to meet you.”
His words catch you off guard, your heart pounding in your chest. “Meet...me?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.
As soon as he confirms with a simple nod, you feel a tightness in your chest. An explosion in your mind. A vortex of thoughts, all overwhelming, non-stop.
Each second you try to breathe, the knot in your chest tightens, sitting, carving a bigger hole where your happiness had just been—
“Yes,” he confirms, his hands soothingly rubbing circles on your hips as though noticing your sudden tension. “I think, maybe, I’ve talked about you too much?”
Running your teeth over your lip, you feel a piece of skin. One sticking up, not as smooth as the rest. Lip balm would solve it, fix it—but you pick at it anyway, pick, pick, pick—
Running your teeth over your lip, you notice a stray piece of skin, protruding slightly, disrupting the otherwise smooth surface. Lip balm would fix it, effortlessly smooth it out—but despite knowing this, you find yourself unable to resist the urge to pick at it. Listening to him as he explains, hearing names, a day suggested. As you compulsively pick, pick, pick—
Until he says your name.
Soft. Gentle. So cautiously spoken it makes your heart do a double take as you taste copper on your tongue.
“Are you sure? I mean, I want to. I just… don’t want to intrude or anything,” you reply, and you know it’s left your mouth shaky, bathed in nerves.
Attempting to shake the suds from your hands, hoping to fling off the worries with it, you find yourself unable to meet his gaze. Mind a flurry, a snowstorm of ifs, buts and maybes.
Because meeting his friends is a significant step—a thing you’re happy about, pleased he feels the same way. Yet, you're also terrified.
Digging your hip into the counter because of it, rooting yourself as you flex your fingers.
“Hey.” His fingers gently lift your chin, forcing you to look up at him; eyes full of warmth and reassurance. "You wouldn't be intruding, baby. They're… they’re like my family and… I want them to meet the person I can’t stop thinking about.”
Shoulders sliding down from your ears, you move to rest your hands on his waist. “You really talk about me that much?”
Scrunching his nose, he smiles. “A bit.”
“Okay,” you agree, your voice sounding more confident than you feel. “I'll meet your friends.”
“Great,” he grins, his relief evident. He pulls you close, hugging you tightly. “Benny—the one who fights—that's who we'll be supporting.”
“When?”
He frowns, but vanishes it away as though realising you hadn't been listening. “Not this weekend, but next. They’re going to love you, I promise.”
“I hope so,” you whisper into his chest, your heart rate trying its best to slow down.
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I need you to tell me what I need to do with the office room, if your friends happen to not like me. They’re going to like you. But if they don’t. Rainy, they will. Introducing you is more so they don’t think I’ve made you up. You have a habit of making up people? No. But apparently, the way I talk about you makes it seem like you’re made up. Why? Because you’re perfect. I am not. You are, but let’s have that battle another day. What are you worried about?
It sits there, in your fingers. The answer to his question.
Foot kicking out at your kitchen island, laptop light illuminating your face as you roll your tongue over your lips.
Foot kicking out nervously at the kitchen island, the harsh glow of the laptop casting an eerie light across your face, you roll your tongue over your lips.
A nervous tic. One you find yourself repeating—letting it trace over the same path again and again, desperately seeking a sense of calm that seems perpetually out of reach.
The question doing its rounds, spinning and swirling: What are you worried about? What are you worried about?
Like a bell has been wrung, it blares out. The answer.
It vibrates through your bones and comes back to you in an echo. Almost a chorus: That I’m not good enough.
A thing you’ve done well to ignore, to stuff down. But now, it's crawling up out of its boxes, the tape having barely kept it down, flapping about in the whirlwind of worries in your head.
As your phone screen dims, memories flood, recalling the evidence. The words flung at you, feelings you’ve wrestled with in bathrooms at loud parties and brutal quiet nights; arguments in places that don’t feel like home and tears against brick walls that cut shoulders.
Unlocking your phone, you tighten your jaw because he's not like them. He's good, kind. A sudden unwillingness to bend to insecurity roaring inside of you as you list every good thing about him; not willing to let a good thing be ruined by things that could never happen.
Sliding your fingers over the screen, you type words that seem easier, less difficult to confess:
Living up to the stories you’ve said. No stories, just a mention of your name and apparently a smile they’ve not seen in a while.
With a mouth-closed grin, you purse your lips.
Reading over the message again and again as your teeth sneak out to bite your lip, thumbs darting out over the phone’s keyboard.
Would it be okay to pick you up? You want to pick me up? I do. Yeah, sure. I was going to offer to pick you up. I think I’d like to pick you up, and if I don’t make a fool out of myself, would you like to stay over? I’ll pack your robe.
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As soon as he throws his bag into the backseat and slips into your car, you feel at ease.
The drive over to grab him had been a combination of whispered mutterings about how it was going to be fine and a mind full of all the ways it wouldn’t be.
It’s further helped when his lips press to your cheek, allowing hands to loosen on the steering wheel, and when that low voice sweeps over you as he greets you—as other words hang there unspoken.
You almost say it on sight, I've missed you.
Because you have. A week and a half of messages and phone calls sufficing, but you’ve missed his presence, his face, the chance to brush your fingers over his cheek.
“You look nice.”
Eyes widening, he stares down at himself, palms brushing out over his thighs. “Me?”
“No, the ghost you brought with you—of course, you.”
Snorting, he fastens his seatbelt. “Says you, hermosa.”
“Smooth talker.”
The drive to the fight continues with similar, gentle teasing, all comfortable conversation filling the vehicle. He begins to fill you in on the new developments in the saga of Luca’s newfound love for blanket forts rendering the living room a disaster and you about the sign-off on the work you'd been worked up over.
As you navigate the roads, excitedly sharing about how you've picked a wallpaper you like, Frankie's warm hand finds a home on your thigh, his thumb idly tracing patterns over the fabric of your jeans as he continues talking.
No smirk, nothing. Just the usual smile, as if he'd done this before.
Yet, he hasn't. Unfamiliar sensations surge through your body, catching you off guard, body all ill-prepared for the way it warms you. It almost urges you to shuffle in your seat so his hand rises north; Electricity crackles along your veins, accompanied by a tightening in your abdomen that refuses to dissipate. And, it only worsens when he coughs and his hand grips you a little tighter.
As more of the cityscape flits past your windows, you steal glances at Frankie. His profile illuminated intermittently by the passing street lights, shadows highlighting the rugged contours of his face.
By the time you're pulling into the parking lot, you wish the drive had been longer. Momentarily, you press your thighs together, for reprieve. Only doing so when his hand moves to open the door, the liveliness and music spilling out onto the sidewalk as he comes around the vehicle to take your hand.
“So, where will your friends be?”
Frankie tightens his hand on yours, leading you, holding the door open. “They’ll be in the locker room. Will is Ben’s non-official trainer.”
Nodding, you smile, letting him lead until the two of you come to a stop at the bar—him asking you what you’d like, giving you a look that says please don’t fight me as he takes out his wallet.
“You not needed there?” Shaking his head, ordering drinks as he faces his head forward but his eyes slide down to you. “And what are you, what's your role?”
“His other non-official, less present trainer.”
“You slacker.”
Shrugging, he shakes his head, paying for the drinks. “I know, so much free time to do it too.”
Grinning, you follow him to a spot out of the line, sliding your arm around his back, curling into him—the ice cubes in your plastic cup colliding in the fizziness of your drink.
“I’m glad you came.”
“Because you missed me?”
His mouth opens, parts—the tip of his tongue peeking out as you feel his chest expand before relaxing. “Yeah. Nine days was too long.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you slide your hand under his jacket, it taking a moment, more awkward than full of ease before you can fan your fingers out against him.
“Technically, it was five—if you count me half-waving to you when I came in to get a screwy.”
Almost spluttering as he takes a sip, he clears his throat, staring down. “You can’t call it a screwy?”
Narrowing your eyes, smirking away. “And why not, Morales?”
“Because suena mal... dirty,” he argues, trying to suppress a laugh.
Your eyebrow raises in question, but before you can retort, his lips are on yours, effectively silencing you. The place around you is all of a sudden silent, muted—as if no one else is around at all. The ring, the lights, and all of the people blurring into nothing, not as your fingers tease over his chin, as your mouth reminds itself what his feels like.
Pulling back, mouth hovering close to his. “So, what do I need to know about your friends? Outside of the obvious.”
The obvious is that they all served together. Frankie had explained it one night as you cooked for yourself, him on a shelf—face filling the screen as you sliced and brewed on the stove.
It was clinically given, top-level you'd been sure. Just the need to know—the need to understand.
“Well, Ben is loud—but he’s gentle. Will is a bit protective, especially since we've all been through a lot together," he begins, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand. “But they're good people. They're upfront and honest.”
“Does Harold like them?”
Tutting, he pauses as he lifts the plastic cup to his lips. “The only person Harry likes is you. And his own family.”
“I’ll be sure to drop that in conversation then. Show them I’m one stamp approved already.”
Tilting your chin up, he licks his lips—slowly, intently. “You have nothing to worry about, alright?” You nod, trying to take in his words. “I mean it.”
“Okay.”
Kissing the top of your head, Frankie keeps his arm around you. Even when Benny's name is shouted and the crowd goes wild.
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I think they like me.
Are you texting me from the bathroom?
Maybe. But, I think it’s going well.
Baby, are you peeing and texting me?
No! I dried my hands and then messaged you.
So you’re leaning against a dirty wall texting me.
Are you grinning like an idiot at your phone?
Don’t answer I can see it.
Shut up.
If that’s the grin you wear when I message you, no wonder they wanted to meet me.
Basta!
You're cute when you're flustered. Can see the red climbing up your neck from here.
Come back and keep me company.
Grin a bit more and I might.
Rainy.
Fuck you're handsome, Butterscotch.
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NEXT CHAPTER ->
an: while the meeting happens off-paper (haha wanted to say off-screen) all meetings won't appear like this 👀. we knew they'd love her, and in time we'll see how much. also, her texting him in the bathroom may be my fave thing she's done off her own accord (i am merely just a body and fingers when rainy begins talking to me)
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bleuside97 · 7 months
Text
Redemption and Regression
paring: babydaddy!jungkook x exgirlfriend!reader
summary: even after five years there is not escaping of jeon jungkook.
warnings: reader has a four year old child, reader gets kidnapped by jjk, manhandling, harsh words, profanities, a bit of angst,
genre: yandere jungkook
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"Hi mommy." A little voice called through the phone call. You hold the phone close to your ear. Relief filled your senses by hearing your son's voice. Looking both ways before crossing the empty street. "Hello mommy's baby." You replied to your son, U-Jin Y/L/N, smiling ear to ear. "How are you liking it at Grandma's house?" You asked the small boy. "I love it here, Grandma has lots of toys for me to play with and she cooked samgyupsal for dinner." You couldn't see him but you can tell that joy evident in his voice. In the background of the phone call the sound of toys clashing together. Clearly, submerged in his fun toys he stopped taking.
Your four year old baby, frequently stays at his grandparents house on nights you have to work overtime. This whole week has been filled with late shifts at the office. You are employed as a journalist, a struggling one if that, you are writing your newest article that could be your breakthrough. A female voice cuts in, "Y/n." "Hello Mom, thank you for taking U-Jin in again, I've been so busy at the office." Walking home from work alone in the dark of the night. Thankfully you're almost at home. Just a few more blocks from it. You walk through the patches of yellow lights given by the street lights, within every kilometer. A gust of wind flies past you and bites your nose and cheeks turning a bright rose color. Your cling onto your light jacket a little tighter with your free hand. It was cold but your pursed nonetheless pulling the hood over your head. Pushing your hands deeper into your jacket's pocket for warmth. You continue to walk to your destination.
"I can't neglect my responsibility as a Grandmother," She dismisses your gratitude, always selfless. You're grateful to have her in your life, the only person you trust right now. You smile gratefully, admitting, "I can't do this alone." Tears well up, clouding your vision. "I'm a struggling single mom, trying to keep my job." A compassionate sigh emanates from the other end of the phone. "Don't give up, Y/n. You've come so far from those so many years ago." Her encouraging words bring a smile to your face. The smile fades as you recall your life before five years ago. Swiftly changing the subject, you attempt to forget about it. "I'll pick up U-Jin tomorrow, it's my day off. See you then, please kiss U-Jin goodnight for me."
You conclude the call quick to tuck it in your purse. A shadow of a figure in the distance. A rather tall figure, with long brunette hair blowing in the wind. He wore a loose-fitting hoodie and baggy jeans. He walks, his gaze locked on the sidewalk ahead, his face obscured by a cap that renders him faceless in the dim light. In the midst of the crowded sidewalk, your shoulders accidentally collide. You're quick to offer an apology, but as you do, the faceless figure slowly turns to face you, and in that instant, you imprint a name on his featureless visage. A surge of instinctive fear jolts through your mind, urging your body into action. Your legs propel you into motion before rational thought can catch up.
In the darkness behind you, an iron grip suddenly clamps onto your arms, imprisoning them against your trembling frame. You instinctively struggle, desperately attempting to wriggle free from his unyielding hold, but he remains an immovable force. As fear courses through your veins, you open your mouth to scream, only to be violently yanked backward, stealing the very breath from your lungs and reducing your scream to a feeble gasp.
His fingers constrict around your waist and throat, the world narrowing to the thunderous pounding of your heart in your ears and the veins throbbing visibly in your throat. Panic surges within you, tears welling up in your eyes. Amidst the chaotic moment, your vision is reduced to a blur of blinding car headlights, the whizzing of the street, and a fraction of a car door frame as you're forcibly thrust into the passenger-side seat. Desperation fuels your efforts as you claw your nails against his arm, a frantic struggle to break free.
Having cornered you within the confines of the vehicle, your assailant steps back, allowing you a fleeting glimpse. Through your disheveled hair, the darkness, and the tears clouding your vision, you discern little more than the silhouette of a man. His head abruptly swivels in your direction, his hand lunging forward, and a noxious cloth slaps onto your face.
In your frantic struggle with all your might, you toss your head back, a desperate bid to evade him, your instincts screaming about the consequences of failure. You were forcibly shoved into the car, an unsettling sense of déjà vu washed over you, and you could have sworn that your faceless assailant wore a hauntingly familiar, triumphant grin. A haunting warning chills your soul, "I warned you, y/n, from the moment you left me, I told you I will always find you." The world dissolves into darkness as he steps back, sealing your fate with a resounding slam of the car door. Rendering you unconscious.
(Transition)
A cold shiver danced down your spine, and the chill of damp concrete beneath your scent a jolt of discomfort through her frail frame. Panic began to claw at the edges of your consciousness as her memory reluctantly unveiled the grim truth: she was trapped, imprisoned by the very person she had once called her own.
As her senses gradually sharpened, she became aware of the stale, musty air, tinged with the scent of old wood and mildew. The sound of distant water dripping echoed ominously, punctuating the silence that enveloped her. Her hands, trembling as she explored her immediate surroundings, brushed against rough walls and the coarse surface of a cot, revealing the stark minimalism of her prison. With every fleeting moment, the dreadful awareness of her predicament grew more poignant. Memories of their tumultuous history resurfaced, casting shadows on her thoughts, and the realization dawned that she was now at the mercy of her former captor. Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the agonizing helplessness of her situation.
Amidst the dimly lit basement's gloom, your eyes gradually adjusted to the obscurity, revealing the harsh reality of her situation. As her disoriented senses sharpened, she could make out a silhouette lurking in the shadows. Her heart raced, and a tremor coursed through her frail form as the figure gradually materialized before her.
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a/n: it's been a minute bro ik i said that i was going to post like five days a week naaa that was a lie. it's not that easy im currently in school and im tired and doing work all the time. im exhausted but ima try to post once a week. i will try. anyways, im still on my yandere shit and i have way more coming up. i really this one and i think it's a cool story. please let me know your feedback please this is only the first part of the story and i don't want this to flop 😭 please don't make it flop I beg! i really worked hard on it it took me days to do!! there's gonna be two more chapters and smut would be included in the next chapter so...
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trashmouth-richie · 3 months
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your touch
eddie x female reader
summary: eddie survives the “earthquake” but has a hard time adjusting to changes, thankfully you are there
“This thing… fucking itches.”
He stood in the mirror. Harsh glow of sickly green fluorescent lights accentuating his mauled torso. Scrutinizing himself, hating what looked back at him.
“It’s only temporary,” you try to reassure him, speaking with a calm voice gently stroking soft hands over his hips, “just for a few—”
“Years babe!” He says hotly, irritation bubbling beneath his temples as he stares back at your eyes in the mirror, “a few years—you say it as if it’s not a big deal, like it’ll be over tomorrow.”
‘86 wasn’t Eddie’s year.
What was supposed to be filled with celebrating graduation and possibly a trip to LA to find a recording studio who would take him and the band seriously, ended in a week's time over Spring Break.
A week that brought new turmoil, hatred, fear and devastation to Hawkins— starting with a dead cheerleader, ending with a come-to-life DnD monster wreaking havoc across the small sheltered town.
Many people died. And if you asked any living member of Hawkins besides a select few; Eddie and yourself were also considered dead.
You stroke the back of his neck—small circles scratching lightly against bare skin, stubborn stubble peeking through showing itself off.
“Honey,” you purr with lips to his back, looking at him in the same mirror he hated more and more everyday that he had been here. “You know what the other option was.”
The town wanted Eddie dead and Owens agreed that having him be just that on paper would be the safest option. A little hush government money, a silly new name— Eddie was cool with that, almost excited.
“I know, I know..” he groans, fingers raking through the thick brown beard on his chin, defeated. “But this—” he says tugging harshly, “itches and.. and fuck—”
His appearance had to change.
Hawkins wasn’t satisfied with the claims that he was dead from the earthquake, they wanted to see a body, churchgoers going medieval, calling for his head on a stake in the middle of town.
Not wearing his rings made him feel like he was naked. He hated the feeling of it at first. But what really put the nail in the coffin was when he had to cut his hair, and “possibly grow a beard if he was able to” per Owen’s requests.
You work your fingers through the tufts of his beard, gently untangling the coarse hair and massaging his chin. “You’re still handsome.”
When Eddie got down on himself he stayed there in the wallowing depths, barely above water for weeks. Finding no joy in things he used to, some days even refusing to eat.
“I’m scarred up…don’t even look like my— I can’t fucking do this.” His frustration gets the best of him, letting a fist fly into the mirror—shattering it into pieces that clank loud in the sink, some tinkering down the drain and across the tiled floor.
He curses loud as blood flows angry and crimson from his knuckles, pit pattering onto the ceramic sink. He watches it slide down into a collecting path, pooling into a mass before it deepens, staining the floor entirely.
Minutes pass, and you haven’t said a word, giving him the space he needs. Eddie cleans himself up, bandaging his hand carelessly as he scrambles trying to piece the mirror back together, maybe if he had some tape he could fix it for you.
“I’m sorry baby,” he mutters around a fresh flock of tears, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.. I’m so fucking sorry, please don’t leave me.”
He feels your hands wrap around his waist again. Cold as silk, stinging like a frostbite, comforting him the only way you could.
“I’m not going anywhere,” Eddie hears, feeling your icy hands trace around his heart, “I’m always here.”
Sanity left him long ago, the barred enclosure taking its toll on his mind, his body. The others couldn’t understand—maybe didn’t want to understand why.
Why the inmate talked to his mirror.
a follow up to this story, the raven told me of you, is linked here
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hughesluv · 10 months
Text
Drunken Love | Luke Hughes
luke hughes x fem! reader you take care of a clingy and drunk luke after his fun night out with the team. (words: 0.5k)
request: prompt 3 with taking care of clingy drunk boyfriend luke hughes please?
a/n: thank you for the request!! this is very short but i think it’s also adorable! luke would definitely be a clingy drunk, telling you every chance he could get that you were pretty and how much he loved you.
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You find yourself waiting at home, the cozy ambiance of your living room enveloping you. It's been a long day, and you're ready to unwind. Suddenly, the front door creaks open, and in stumbles your boyfriend, Luke, clearly a bit too tipsy from a night out with his friends.
"Why are you staring at me?" Luke slurs, his words laced with a mix of confusion and amusement as he spots you sitting on the couch.
A gentle smile graces your lips as you take in the sight of Luke, his hair disheveled and a playful glimmer in his eyes. “Because you’re adorable and very drunk," you reply, your voice filled with affection.
Luke lets out a hearty laugh, stumbling closer to you. He plops down next to you on the couch, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. "You're pretty... so pretty," he whispers, his breath warm against your ear.
You can't help but blush at his words, feeling a surge of warmth spread through your veins. You lean into his embrace, enjoying the closeness and the sweet scent of his cologne. Despite his inebriation, there's an undeniable tenderness in his touch.
With a gentle chuckle, you turn to face him, cupping his face in your hands. "And you, Lukey, are the most handsome man I've ever laid eyes on," you say, your voice filled with sincerity.
Luke's gaze softens, and he leans into your touch, a contented sigh escaping his lips. "I'm lucky to have you," he murmurs, his words laced with gratitude.
In that moment, you realize that beneath Luke's drunkenness and clinginess lies a genuine appreciation for your presence in his life. With a heart full of love, you take on the role of caretaker, tending to his needs.
You guide Luke to the bedroom, helping him change into comfortable clothes. As he clumsily crawls into bed, you pull the covers over him, making sure he's snug and warm. You sit beside him, stroking his hair gently, feeling a sense of peace wash over you.
"Go to sleep, my love," you whisper, your voice a soothing melody. "You're going to have a killer hangover in the morning.”
“Don’t remind me just yet.” He scrunches his face in displeasure, dreading the morning yet to come. You giggle at his dramatics. “I love you, baby.”
Luke's eyes flutter closed, a serene smile playing on his lips. He reaches out to hold your hand, his grip light yet firm, a symbol of trust and affection. The room fills with an air of tranquility as you watch over him, your heart brimming with love.
As you lean in to press a tender kiss on his forehead, you can't help but feel grateful for the moments like these—the ones that remind you of the depth of your connection. In this quiet space, you find solace, knowing that you have each other, no matter the circumstances.
With a whispered "I love you more," you retreat to your own restful night, carrying the warmth of your shared love with you, knowing that tomorrow will bring new adventures and cherished moments together.
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janeyseymour · 24 days
Note
Hey babe it’s me, I know I’m the greatest😭 but let’s get to the point. What if we got a one shot of Melissa thinking about popping the question 💍to reader and she talks to Barbara about it and she looks back on all the time she spent with El and reader and ultimately decides to do so.❤️❤️
Im a sucker for happy endings bro ✨✨
Love Thy Neighbor, Two Families Become One- pt 2
PART 1
WC: ~3.15k
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That night, Melissa dreams of a life where you are officially her wife and Ellie is officially her daughter. That dream that shifts into a sort of hellish nightmare where both Gary and Jared are there, and she’s doing everything that she can do to protect you. And then it flickers into a dream where you aren’t around anymore, and because Ellie isn’t officially her daughter in the eyes of the law, she ends up back with Jared. 
That dream is terrifying enough for her to wake up breathing deeply and making sure that you were still breathing before going to silently check on Ellie in her room. The redhead lets out a sigh of relief when she confirms that it was indeed just her imagination running wild.
When the two of you wake up for the day, she’s a bit more lovey than she usually is. Her hands don’t leave your body, whether that just be holding your hand or a hand settled on your hip and squeezing lightly. There are more kisses pressed to your head than a normal day. When she and Ellie come back from the grocery store while you stayed home to clean, they both come home with flowers for you. While you aren’t complaining, you are a bit curious as to why she’s being so romantic today.
“Is it my birthday and I forgot?” you ask as you hold both bouquets of flowers.
“No, you’re so silly Momma,” your little girl giggles from next to your girlfriend.
Melissa’s lips are on your own softly. “We just thought Momma should know how much we love her.”
“Well, thank you,” you smile against her. Then you lift your daughter onto your hip and pepper her face is kisses while she squeals happily. “I love you both too.”
As you’re getting ready for bed that night, Melissa texts her work wife.
We gotta talk tomorrow morning.
About? Barbara texts back almost instantly.
You’re still awake?
Well, I was falling asleep…
Sorry. We’ll chat tomorrow?
I’ll ask again… about?
Y/N, Ellie, and me.
Oh lord, what did you do Melissa?
Nothin. Just… please?
Meet me in my room tomorrow morning after you’ve stopped for coffee.
When the two of you head in for work on Monday, Nonna’s words still haven’t left Melissa’s mind. The three of you walk into the school hand in hand, Ellie’s backpack slung over your girlfriend’s shoulder.
“Little girl, you have to hang with your momma this morning,” the redhead tells your daughter. “Mom has a meeting.”
“You do?” you furrow a brow. “On a Monday morning?”
“With Barb,” she tells you. “To talk about insurance and how all of that stuff is changing.”
“Auntie Barb?!” Ellie asks excitedly. “Can I at least come say hi and give her a hug?”
Melissa almost says no, but those puppy dog eyes are strong and she relents. “But very quickly.”
“Wait, insurance is going to be changing?”
“There’s a possibility,” she tells you, although you don’t know that she’s referring to the fact that it might change because she’s contemplating asking you to marry her.
“Should I sit in on this meeting?” you ask her, concerned.
She shakes her head. “You just worry about El, and I’ll fill you in later.”
“Okay,” you sigh as you drop your things in your room. “Where are you meeting her?”
“Just her classroom after we get our coffees,” Melissa says.
After you’ve gotten your coffees, the three of you head down to the kindergarten wing. Ellie, of course, sprints ahead yelling Barb’s name as she goes.
“Auntie Barb!” Ellie is giggling and clinging to your girlfriend’s best friend by the time you both catch up with her.
“Baby girl, not that I’m not happy to see you, but where are your mothers?”
“Hey,” you chuckle from the doorframe. “Sorry to crash your meeting, but Ellie wanted to run in and say hi.”
“Well she knows Auntie Barb is always here to say hello to and give a snuggle,” Barbara chuckles as she releases your daughter.
“Alright, El,” Melissa looks at your daughter. “You got to say hi to Auntie Barb, now I gotta talk with her.”
“Can’t I stay?”
“I think you’ll have more fun with Momma coloring in her room,” your girlfriend says.
Ellie contemplates this for a moment before nodding. She runs to the redhead and hugs her tightly before taking your hand and pulling you off down the hall.
Your girlfriend watches the two of you make your way down the hall before she closes the door to the kindergarten room. 
“Well?” Barbara looks to her work wife curiously. “What on Earth could you have done that would require us to talk without Y/N and Ellie here?”
“I took them to meet my mom and Nonna,” Melissa states. “And Nonna told them that they were family and that Ellie was an honorary Schemmenti.”
“That’s great news,” the kindergarten teacher states.
“And now, I’m thinking about asking them to become official Schemmentis.”
Barbara gives your girlfriend a look in shock. “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I thought that you didn’t want to get married again though, and Y/N seems perfectly content with that,” the woman says softly.
“I said that it would take a freaking miracle,” Melissa says. “And they… they are that miracle.”
“That’s great though, Melissa,” Barbara tells the redhead. “Why did we need to talk about this?”
“Because… I need you to tell me that I’m not insane for thinking this and throwing caution to the wind again for her,” the second grade teacher says quietly. “I- I never thought that I would consider getting married again.”
“Well, why are you?” Barb asks.
Your girlfriend folds her arms over her chest as she perches herself on one of the tables. “Because I love those two more than I’ve ever loved anyone… Nonna and my mother adore them, called them family and honorary Schemmentis. And then, that night I had a couple dreams about them.”
“What were they?” the kindergarten teacher inquires.
Melissa sighs softly. “I had a couple… one where Y/N was my wife and Ellie was my daughter, another where Jared came back and I couldn’t protect Y/N, and then… the last one was… something happened to Y/N, and because I wasn’t legally Ellie’s mother, she went back to Jared kicking and screaming.”
“Oh,” Barbara sighs quietly.
“That one had me so shaken that I checked that Y/N was still breathing and that Ellie was asleep in bed.”
“That makes sense, Melissa,” the kindergarten teacher says.
“Well? What do you have to say about this?”Your girlfriend asks.
“I think the answer is right in front of you, and you would be a fool to not follow your heart,” Barb states. “Y/N has been nothing but wonderful for you, Ellie already calls you her mother… you have already laid down the foundation for a beautiful marriage.”
“What if it’s too soon though?”
“When you know, you know,” Barbara says smugly. “Think about it.”
“Thanks,” Melissa smiles. She heads out after that, knowing that the kiddos will be coming in any second.
When lunch time comes around, Melissa makes her way into the staff room and has your meal out and ready for you when you get there. You sigh as you settle yourself in your chair and lean your shoulder on her head.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
She presses a kiss to your temple with a soft chuckle. “Happy Monday?” she offers.
“It’s Monday, that’s for sure… Roman started off the day spilling my coffee all over the floor and shattering my mug, so I’m exhausted.”
“Well, I can fix that,” your girlfriend laughs quietly as she stands from her place and heads for the coffee machine. She pulls another mug from the cabinet, and while the coffee is brewing, her eyes linger on you.
You’re half asleep as you bring your lunch to your mouth, but she can’t help but think that you are the most beautiful woman in the world. She gets so distracted just looking at you that she doesn’t notice the coffee is ready.
“Babe, stop staring at me,” you tell her.
She shakes herself out of her trance. “Sorry. You’re just… wow.”
“I don’t have any makeup on, and I’m in your old Eagles sweatshirt,” you roll your eyes. “I probably have bags under my eyes actually.”
She hums as she brings you the new cup of coffee, leaning down and kissing your cheek. “You’re stunning, and I won’t hear anything else.”
That day after school, the two of you take Ellie to the park like you do on any day that allows for the little bundle of energy to run around and tire herself out. You find Melissa watching Ellie with a sparkle in her eye, not that that isn’t uncommon, but there’s something different about the way she’s watching her today.
“What’s got you lookin’ at her like that today?” you ask as you squeeze her hand.
Melissa smiles fondly. “Just… thinking about how much that little girl has grown and changed, and how she’s changed my life for the better.”
“We’ve been through a lot,” you smile softly.
Ellie is put to bed, and for once, you’re not entirely exhausted. So, you prepare for bed before heading out into the living room with two glasses of wine. Melissa is in her spot, glasses on the tip of her nose and looking at her phone with a soft smile.
“What are you looking at?” you ask as you sit next to her.
“The album I have of you and El,” she tells you as she wraps her arm around you and pulls you practically in her laugh.
There’s a picture of Ellie’s seventh birthday up. Ellie’s eyes are wide and filled with so much love for your girlfriend as she grins at the camera, holding up the toy that your little girl had so desperately wanted but you couldn’t afford.
“I can’t believe you spoiled her as much as you did that day,” you roll your eyes.
She shrugs. “Have you ever seen the kid so happy though? It was worth it.”
You swipe over, and there are about a million pictures and videos of your daughter at the park running around with the sweetest smile on her face.
“This one’s my favorite,” Melissa sighs with content as she lands on a selfie of the three of you. Ellie was in her favorite lavender shirt, Melissa was wearing that salmon colored shirt you adore, and you were in your overalls looking exhausted but filled with so much joy.
“I look like a mess,” you roll your eyes.
“Do you remember that day?”
“Yeah,” you chuckle. “That was while we were moving in and I was at the end of my rope.”
“Momma! Please!” Ellie had pleaded with you, but you were in no mood to go out into the world after an afternoon of lugging all of your things across the hall or down to the storage unit a block over. “Please! I just want to go to the park!”
“Elizabeth,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose with your thumb and forefinger. “I already said no.”
“But please! I just want to play with you!”
“Elizabeth, you are on thin ice,” you warned, but she didn’t relent, and that finally got you to blow over. “Elizabeth Ruth! To your room, now!”
Your little girl, never used to being reprimanded, immediately burst into tears. And something inside of you broke too. Melissa came out from where she was rearranging her closet to make room for your things at the sound.
“What- what’s happening?” she asked as she lifted Ellie onto her hip and guided you to the couch.
“Momma- Momma yelled at me!” Ellie wailed into your girlfriend’s shoulder.
“I- I didn’t mean to!” you had cried right back into her other shoulder. “I- This has all been so hard, and I’m exhausted, and I just don’t have the energy to take her down to the park today!”
Melissa blew out a breath. This was all over going to the park?
“Momma telled me to go to my room, but I don’t even have a room yet!” your daughter whimpered.
“I’m sorry, El,” you apologized. “I’m sorry I lost my temper on you… that was not okay.”
“It’s okay, Momma,” your little girl forgave you quickly as she sniffled the last of her tears away.
“Why don’t we do this,” Melissa started. “I’ll take El down to the park and play with her while you get a nap in?”
“N-no,” Ellie shook her head into the redhead’s neck. “Momma said no.”
“Go,” you whispered. “Take her, have fun, and I’ll be in a better mood when you come back.”
“R-really?” your little girl peered at you from her place in Melissa’s lap. You nod, but your daughter doesn’t make any moves towards the door.
Eventually, with lots of promises that it really was okay, Ellie went with your girlfriend out the door and towards the park. 
You relaxed into the cushions of the couch, but you felt absolutely terrible for snapping at your child. So, about ten minutes after they leave, you too headed down to the park.
You stopped at the coffee shop down the street from your house, and you grabbed your girlfriend’s favorite, your drink, and a lemonade for your little girl. You found them almost as soon as you entered the gated area of the playground, and Ellie was giggling with glee as Melissa pushed her on the swing. Your daughter’s eyes lit up at the sight of you.
“Momma!” Ellie squeaked as she pointed at you.
Melissa turned in your direction, slightly confused. “Babe?”
“I thought I should come down,” you told them. “I’ve been so high strung lately, and I figured maybe I should just come down and spend a nice afternoon with my girls.”
“Really?” Ellie squealed as she continued to swing.
You nod and take a seat on the playground equipment next to her. You started to pump your legs, and soon you were in sync with your daughter. Melissa just chuckled as she continues to push Ellie.
“Momma! you never swing with me!”
“That’s because I’m always the one pushing you while Mel takes videos,” you laughed. And when you looked over, Melissa was indeed filming you both swinging.
It was a bit before you got off the swing, and the three of you ended up finding a nice little patch of grass that you could settle on. Ellie sipped on her lemonade while you drank your coffee. Melissa pecked your cheek before pulling out her phone and holding it out in front of her. She snapped a picture of the three of you, cheeks kissed with the sun and high on life.
“That was a good day,” she smiles softly. “It was so nice seeing you just be free for a little bit.”
“We should do that again soon,” you tell her quietly as you sip on the wine in your glass.
The two of you go through her pictures, reminiscing on all of the good times. 
“Do you remember this one?” she asks you as she shows you a picture of you and Ellie dozing on the couch.
“Oh god,” you groan. “I was exhausted that day.”
You don’t know what hit you, but the kids wore you down that day. And after school, you collapsed onto the couch and pretty much refused to move. Melissa started on dinner for that night while Ellie curled up in your lap and started to drift off too.
You only woke up when your girlfriend snapped a picture of you, trying to be sneaky.
“Dammit,” she mumbled as the shutter sound rang out from her phone.
“Did you just take a picture of us?” you asked as you blinked awake. 
She shrugs. “You guys are just so cute. I can’t help it.”
Eventually, the two of you head into your bedroom, and you fall asleep against your girlfriend rather quickly. But sleep doesn’t come easily for Melissa. She’s reminiscing on the time that she’s spent with you. All of the good, the bad, and the ugly. She remembers the first time she told you that she loved you.
The two of you had a night to yourselves, your parents offering to watch Ellie so you could spend some quality time together.
“This was really nice,” you smiled at her as she drives through the city to pick up Ellie.
She nodded and brought your hand to her lips. “It’s always a nice time with you… I love spending time with you.”
“I do too,” you whispered as you leaned over the middle console to kiss her cheek.
She pulled up to a stop light and turned her head to kiss you gently. 
“Honey, why are you stopping? You never stop,” you ask.
“Because I want to look at you when I tell you, I would even say… that I love you.”
Your eyes went wide. “What?”
“I love you,” she said again, just as softly and just as genuine as the first time.
You couldn’t help but kiss her again. “I love you too,” you mumbled against her lips. 
She remembers the first time the two of you had made love. You were beyond nervous, claiming that you were in no shape to be seen naked after having Ellie- that it’s been too long since you’ve been with someone knew- your only body was Jared. She didn’t care- she worshipped you that night.
She remembers the night that she met you. She can still see her first glance at the two of you in her mind. You looked beyond stressed, Ellie was in meltdown mode, and yet she somehow still knew that the two of you would become two of the most significant people in her life.
She remembers all of the good, and all of the bad. How you get giddy at the sight of her. How her heart broke for you when you would cry over your failed marriage. The way that you celebrated the case against Jared. That time that you had your doubts in the relationship and tried to run away, only to come falling into her arms that night telling her that you were terrified of giving someone your heart again, only for it to be shattered- she promised you that she would never, ever do that to you. 
She reminisces about it all, and by the time that sleep takes her she’s decided that she is indeed going to ask you to marry her… so long as Ellie is okay with it. You, and your little girl, are worth everything to her.
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