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finelinevogue · 1 month

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love isn’t weakness

summary - paul helps you see that love isn’t a weakness

pairing - paul atreides x caladan!reader

word count - +1k

🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅��🌙⚔️🌅✨🌙⚔️🌅✨

You wake to the Paul sleeping soundly beside you.

For once.

So often now does Paul wake up in a cold sweat from his dreams. You can’t imagine how terrifying seeing the possible future must be, but as long as he has you beside him to hold his hand he assures you he’ll be okay.

You wipe the sleep away from your eyes and sit up to let the blanket fall from your body.

Some days you wish you had been allowed to stay on Caladan. Days like today, where you mourn the loss of your parents who died in a war long ago.

Now, you were lost to the deserts of Arakkis.

Paul was slowly becoming a God here and soon you were afraid you’d lose him to the desert too.

You watched him for a few moments, his chest rising slowly and falling again. There was something so overwhelming about watching him just exist.

Watching him grow up as your best friend had never been like this. You’d only grown in feelings for Paul when he was sent to Arakkis before you. The loss of not having him near all the time was horrible, and when reunited Paul made that clear to you by kissing you as more than a best friend.

You smiled softly, leaning down to kiss his forehead softly so not to disturb him, before getting ready to go outside to greet the waking sun.

No one else on camp was awake.

You were away from Worm territory and clear of any Harkonnen’s for now.

Trudging up the steep sand bank, you crested to the top and was greeted by the expanse lands of the dunes.

Nothing for miles. Far as your eyes could see, there was nothing but peaks and troughs of mountainous dunes.

You sat down carefully, watching some sand slide down the dune beside you.

Opening the small piece if dirtied white - now grey - cloth in your hand you found your small locket. The circular shaped pendant necklace opened to the treasure inside - a small picture of your parents on their wedding day.

You gulped back the phantom stone in the back of your throat and squeezed the pendant in your hand tightly.

“I miss you.” You whispered to the desert.

Silence returned.

“You would never guess where I am now!” You laughed to yourself, wiping your tears away quickly with the back of your hand.

It was advised to never cry in the desert, lest you want to lose all your bodies water reserves.

You blew out a big breath, trying to remind calm. “Could do with a nightmare of a family dinner right now.”

‘Nightmare’ because there would always be an argument of some sort about what you were going to have. It was never actually a nightmare, you just liked to refer to them as that.

Soft footsteps could be heard behind you, climbing the dune not so subtly. Although, you suspected they wanted you to hear them so you knew someone was coming.

Only when he sat next to you, did you realise it was Paul.

He sat tight beside you, not leaving much room.

He looked out towards the vast landscape and said nothing. He was good at knowing when or it you wanted him to speak, or when you just wanted the company.

For now, company was all you needed.

He softly slunk his calloused hand into yours, interlinking your fingers and squeezing to show you he was there for you.

He knew what this day was to you.

“I don’t want to be weak when I think about them anymore.” You whispered, hoping Paul would understand.

“It’s not weak to miss them, Y/N.”

“I feel it.” You dipped your head, opening your other hand to reveal the pendant.

“Love isn’t a weakness. That’s what you feel; love. You’re loving them even after they’ve gone.” He explained in a way a true leader could only.

“That was a very wise thing to have come from you.” You turned to look at him and he was already smiling at you, both of your glowing in the morning sun now.

“Love has made me wise.”

He looked at your lips. You looked from his eyes to his own.

“Then you would know, love isn’t wise at all.” You responded with something Lady Jessica had told him when he had declared that you were together.

Literally, declared in front of a whole camp of Fremens. It was simultaneously both the most embarrassing and happiest moment you’d felt on this planet.

Paul decided to shut you up by kissing you, not too harshly otherwise you’d both go falling off the top of the dunes - which, yes, had happened before.

He cupped your cheek softly and kissed just as much. His lips were warm with the wake of the sun and your insides started to glow just as brightly.

Love.

“You make me feel less weak.” You pulled back to tell him, whispering the words only a breaths touch away from his lips.

“That’s because you love me.” He teased, kissing you with a smile.

You pushed his shoulder ever-so-lightly, to get him back for the teasing.

“Do you not?” He questioned, pretending to be offended. He touched your cheek furthest from him and tugged it so you would face him again. “Hmm?”

“You’re so dependent on what my feelings are for you?”

“Yes.”

The light conversations between you never failed to outshine any dark moments you way be having.

“That makes you a weak man. Maybe you aren’t Lisan Al-Gaib after all.” You bit the inside of your cheek to hide your smile.

“Maybe. Love still doesn’t make me a weak man though and it doesn’t make you weak either.” He kissed the tip of your nose softly.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him.

“They’re still there, watching over you.” He nodded to the sky where the last of the stars were twinkling still. Soon they’d be gone and the sky would be lit in cerulean blue.

“I know.”

“And they’re here too.” He touched over your heart and then over his. Your parents had been as close to him as his own father, so he knows what the loss feels like even after all this time.

He now knows the kind of whole a loved one can leave on your heart. It’s learning to know not how to re-fill it, but live with it that’s the difficult part.

He was learning how to do that from you, just as you learnt from him.

You kissed him again, just because you needed to let him know that you appreciated him - more than words could ever explain.

Paul gave you a small smile when be broke away from your lips quietly.

“I love you. To forever.”

“To forever.”

#dune part two #dune part 2 #dune fic #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #timothée x reader #timothé chalamet x reader #paul atreides #paul atredies x reader #paul atreides fic #timothée chalamet fic #dune x reader

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onlyangellucifer · 3 months

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I LOVE YOU, ITS RUINING MY LIFE

PLOT:

It’s the biggest trial of the year and the whole world is watching. Stakes are higher and tension is higher. Little do they know, the prosecutor and defence attorney are in love.

Harry is a popular defense attorney in London & Y/N is a popular prosecutor. Both are known for rarely losing & now they’ve found themselves in a pickle.

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:✧*⋆.*:･ﾟ✧.: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆ ☾

WARNINGS:

Mentions of murder, blood, and the likes (nothing too graphic), smut (in the future), angst, fluff, etc. will add more if any others pop up!

AUTHORS NOTE:

Hello!! Ive been MIA, sorry. However, ive come bearing gifts! Below the cut is a sneak peak at this new short series (no more than 6 parts atm). Im working on the other series’ too, sorry for the delay. Hope you can forgive me. Anyways i hope u enjoy defense attorney!Harry 🫶🏼 the preview also isnt proof read, so excuse any typos. Meaning things WILL be changed / could be changed & moved around! Not sure of word count, but cant be more than 1500. Its short.

London hasnt seen a case this high profile since the case of Harold Shipman, who killed up to 250 victims. Many feared this may be another case of Jack The Ripper, as they double checked their doors at night, hoping the serial killer wasn’t going to show up at their door. The relief that washed over the town when the police had finally caught the man whom they think is responsible for the latest killings of 20 men and women. The scenes were too graphic to show on tv.

Y/N ended up with the case. The crime scene photos were unnerving to her and interviewing the victims families made it even worse. Bile creeping up throat as she read the horrific things that happened to each victim. She wanted to know this case by the back of her hand, because of course she was up against one of the top defense attorneys in the country. He rather lost and found plot holes in every single case, having a 97% success rate with getting his clients off the hook and their record clear. She thought noone would pick up the mans case, there was so much evidence that pointed towards the man.

Harry was attractive, tall, dark hair and those piercing greenish hazel eyes. Y/N was nervous and she hated being that way. Harry often came by the law firm, having connections with anyone and everyone. His career was unmatched, he was handsome, wealthy, the whole package. Yet he was single and that blew Y/N’s mind.

Harry was just as shocked as Y/N to learn they’d facing each other in court. He was certain his client did it, but, he had to defend him anyways. He was called by the court to do it pro bono, as noone else wanted to take the case. If he lost, his numbers would certainly be impacted. If he won, people may look at him differently in a moral sense. Surely though there was a plot hole and the prosecution would slip up. He couldnt believe it was Y/N who got the case. Soft, shy, gorgeous Y/N. He already developed this small crush on her and now he had to take her on in court? Surely this wasnt a good thing. It had to be God punishing him for helping criminals and making a good living while doing so. Harry always viewed her as the more submissive type and his dirty thoughts were hard to keep at bay. Maybe that was the reason God was punishing him.

While Harry laid awake, staring at the ceiling, Y/N was doing the same. Y/N had never seen Harry in action, but, she’s heard how he’s always been strict and concise in the court room. His dominant side coming out, and that scared Y/N. Especially because she imagined him being dominant somewhere else, mainly at night when she lay in bed alone with her thoughts and hands.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles filth #harry styles smut #harry smut #my writing #defense attorney!Harry #harry styles fluff #forbidden trope

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heaven4lostgirls · 8 months

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Never Enough (S.R)

pairing: steve rogers x reader

warning: angst, allusion to breakup, Steve chooses Sharon over reader.

summary: Steve leaves you, thinking you’ll wait for him.

word count: 1.3k

a/n: I’ll be honest, this isn’t my best work, but I thought why not get something out because I’m pretty sure the next chapter of mr americana and the heartbreak prince will be a little delayed cus I have so much work to do but I hope this tides you over until them lmao.

part 1, part 2, part 3

“Steve, I swear to god if you walk out that door, we’re done” you say as tears run down your face. It’s radio silent in the Avenger’s compound as Steve stands in front of you about to leave because Sharon had called him because of an ‘emergency.’ After she had found out that you were Steve’s girlfriend, she found ways to come in-between the both of you and somehow, she was succeeding. This was your third fight about Steve just leaving out of nowhere when she called for him, you don’t know how much of this you had in you.

“Don’t be dramatic y/n” he rolls his eyes, “we’ve been over this, she’s just a friend” he says, and you cross your arms over your chest. “Steve, how many times do I need to tell you that she is not just a friend to you? A month ago, she wanted to get into your pants” you raise your voice and Steve’s expression only grows more annoyed, “She doesn’t want me like that anymore!” he says, your expression grows even more annoyed. “If you step a foot out of that door Steve, I won’t be here when you get back” you threaten him and watch as he hesitates before he says,

“She needs me y/n” he pleads with you and tears if frustration line your eyes at his words. “What about me?!” you cry out at him incredulously, “she! Is not your girlfriend Steve! I am!” you throw your hands in the air as tears run down your face in silence and watch as Steve’s irritated demeanour breaks “I’m going y/n, we can talk about this when I get back” he says and slides a hand down his face in exasperation. “Steven Grant Rogers, don’t you dare” you threaten as he again walks to the door. “I’m sorry y/n, I’ll be back” he rushes to the door as he feels his phone buzz again.

As soon as the door to your shared room closes. You’re sliding down the wall as you sob uncontrollably, why was it so easy for him to pick her? Why did he pick her? Why were you never enough?

The rest of the Avengers stand outside your door, hearing your heartbreaking sobs is enough for tony to get Friday to unlock your door before he crouches down next to you, letting you wrap your arms around him and sob into his shirt. “Why wasn’t I enough?” you cry and Tony’s eyes mist over at your heartbroken whisper, he shakes his head as he rubs your back “you are perfect” he whispers as he kisses your forehead. Tony had always been like a father figure to you since you had joined the Avengers, a little older than Peter, he had taken you both under his wing and taught you everything you needed to know.

As much as it hurt all the Avengers to see you so broken, it hurt Tony that much more that this was the one source of pain he couldn’t protect you from. As your anguished sobbing turned into small sniffles, Tony lifts your head and wipes your nose with his sleeve, “eugh” he makes a face and smiles at the small laugh you produce.

You loom around the room to see Peter, Bucky, Sam, Natasha, Bruce, and Wanda all standing or sitting in different parts of the room, watching you with sad gazes, you know they’ve probably already heard the entire fight and you find yourself collecting yourself before you stand up with the help of Tony to look at all of them, “I cant stay here” you admit to them. Their faces fall as they realise that this isn’t your usual fight with Steve and by him choosing to check on Sharon instead of staying with you, he’s lost his place in your life.

Some nod solemnly and other eyes mist over yet they all share an overall agreement knowing that they are willing to do whatever they need to help you heal. It’s surprisingly Tony who voices what everyone else is thinking, “do you not want to wait to hear what he has to say?” he asks softly as you lean on his chest. You shake your head as tears begin to fill your eyes again. “I asked- “your voice breaks, “I begged him to stay” you tell them and watch as sympathy floods their faces.

Wanda and Natasha are the first one’s moving in order to get you out of there, they give everyone tasks so that you have some breathing room, Tony is organizing a safe house out of state while Sam and Bucky are working on getting a plane and pilot to fly you to it. Peter is making food and trying to stock up the house with groceries for the near future and Nat is overseeing his orders to make sure he doesn’t put just junk food on it.

Whist everything around you is moving faster than you can imagine for you to be out of the compound before Steve gets back, which according to Bucky is in the next hour, You and Wanda spend time packing your clothes and essentials you’ll need to have. The quiet in the room is comforting even though you can feel the anxiety slowly overcoming you at the idea of finally leaving Steve.

Wanda breaks the silence as she bombards you with a hug, “I could feel your pain, I thought this might help” and it does, Wanda has an aura around her that is so comforting for everyone around her. You both continue packing before you’re interrupted by Bucky knocking on your open door, he smiles sadly, “we’re ready for you” he says and you nod, picking up the two duffel bags lying on the floor, leaving a piece of paper on the bed before you walk out to the quinjet.

Bucky stops you before getting on the plane, as he grasps your arm, he pulls you into a hug and you know this is his way for apologizing for Steve’s behaviour. “it’s not your fault Buck” you whisper, and you feel him nod into the hug, you were both friends through Steve and you knew just how scared he must be in fear of losing you because of what his friend had done.

Peter is next and you can’t help but laugh through your tears as you see him with tears running down his pouting face, he looks like a puppy. “c’mon parker pull it together’ you roll your eyes and pull him into a hug as he sobs, “you do know I’m coming back, right?” you whisper as his sobs stop and he nods and you both giggle together. “we’re ready for take-off” you hear the pilot through the megaphone, and you release peter to walk onto the plane.

As soon as the door opens for you, you hear your voice being called desperately. “Y/N!!” you hear, and everyone turns around to meet Steve’s broken expression. “NO! Please just hear me out!!” he’s screaming through his tears however Bucky holds him back. “No! Stop the plane please! I need to talk to her” he yells and tries to fight off Bucky to get to you, but you ignore him and wipe your cheeks and make you way onto the plane, “NO! Please y/n stop! I’ll be better baby! Just get off the plane please!” his screams are drowned out as you make your way to the couches on the plane and sob.

“Y/N! Please! Let me talk to her! Please someone! Let me talk to her!” his voice becomes hoarse from all the yelling as he watches the plane take off, he doesn’t stop struggling in Bucky’s hold until the plane disappears. “I’m sorry, God I’m so sorry” he cries into his hands before he collapses, crushing your handwritten letter in one hand as he sobs. Bucky lets everyone leave as he sits with Steve on the ground, watching his best friend fall apart on the dark asphalt.

#juliwrites #mcu #steve rogers #steve rodgers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #captain america #steven grant rogers #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america x female reader #captain america angst

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atinylittlepain · 11 months

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Nothing to Hide - A Joel Miller Story

no outbreak!joel miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

she learns a couple new things about her man over the course of a night.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, and nothing but(t), yes this is a pegging fic

a/n | it's here! welcome, everyone, to the inaugural night of the Peg that Middle-Aged Man Campaign 2023! over the course of the next week or so, I as well as a handful of my favorite writers will be putting out some excellent fics under this campaign for the whole spectrum of Pedro Pascalian characters! so keep your eye out! much more to come, muahahahaha

i know for a fact that both @beskarandblasters and @wannab-urs will be posting or have already posted two other spectacular PMAMC fics on this fine evening, so go check those out as well!

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“What is that?”

“Don’t– you can’t laugh.”

“Oh my god, Joel. What the fuck is it?”

“Well what d’you think it is?”

“I think you lost a bet is what I think.” He’s silent for a moment, his lack of a reply all the answer she needs to burst out into laughter.

“No, really?” Joel lets out a huff.

“I was really really drunk and dumb, ok? Jesus, woman, stop looking at it!” She stifles her laugh enough to turn him around by his shoulder so he’s facing her, running a quick hand through his curls, his face flushed and set in a scowl.

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna be looking at it a lot with what I’m about to do to you.” She can see the bob of his throat in the faint light of her bedroom, the way his eyes go a touch hazy, drooping under his lashes. He’s pretty, something she’s known since they started dating, though she also knows he’d probably short-circuit if she ever called him that. But tonight, she intends to treat him like it, giving, providing, where he’s always so eager to do the same.

“Why don’t you lay out on the bed for me, handsome?” He gives her a jerky nod, seeming to think twice before he cups her cheek in his palm, dragging a hot kiss from her before he complies. He’s still in his boxers, long expanses of tan, bare strength laid out on her sheets, propped up on his elbows to watch her as she rifles through a dresser drawer to find a few things. His eyes widen when she turns back to him, baby pink strap in one hand and a bottle of lube in the other.

“Don’t worry about it, baby. We’re gonna work you up to it, ok? And if you don’t like anything, just tell me and I’ll stop.” It’s setting heat threading through her core, thick and warm, the silk of her panties sticking to her cunt from the pulse of arousal, coaxed on by the stark contrast of how he normally is to how she gets him right now. Her man, always in control, always the strong one, the dominant one, the giver, laying it all willingly at her feet.

It had started with a bit of pillow talk one night. Joel knew that she had been with women in the past, but he had never been so bold as to ask anything about it, not until that night, drunk on sweat and sex, a boyish grin slipping across his lips, turning dark and reverential fast when she was more than happy to tell him about her experience, going so far as to show him the toys she had held onto. But what she hadn’t been expecting was Joel Miller, the walking homage to southern masculinity, asking his next question.

“You ever used that, um, with– with men?”

They had talked about it more afterward, Joel eager to bring it up, ask questions, seemingly just as perplexed as she was that he was so interested in it.

“I don’t know, I mean– never thought about something like this before. But, with you it just– fuck, it seems kinda hot.”

And that’s how they’ve ended up here, her kneeling between his spread legs on her bed, palms rubbing up and down his thighs as she leans over and lays a kiss to the little swell of his belly, smiling against the jump of his muscles.

“Relax for me, Joel. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you. You trust me, right?”

“I– yeah, I do.” She slides one palm up from his thigh to his chest, pressing lightly to get him to lay back.

“Then just let me do all the work, alright? Gonna make you feel good.” With that, she draws her attention back down to the waistband of his boxers, hooking her fingers in the sides to tug them down and off his legs before settling back between his thighs, her fingers tapping the joints of his knees as a light command.

“Can you bend your knees for me, baby? Need you a little more opened up than this.” She’s surprised by the groan he lets out at her simple question, a breathless shake of his head.

“Fuck, I– you– that–” She cuts off his floundering, her palm rubbing a soothing circle against his chest.

“Hey, if you don’t feel comfortable, we don’t have to do anything different, seriously.” “No! I mean, no, I want to. It’s just– different. But different’s good. I’m good.” How could she say no to that?

“Ok, baby, I’m gonna warm you up. You tell me if I do anything you don’t like, alright?” He nods, his eyes staying glued on hers as she ducks back down, lips ghosting over the underside of his already hard cock before lapping gently at the tip. She works him over with her mouth for a while, taking him down as far as she can, her hand stroking the rest, reveling in the way his muscles slacken and tense beneath her ministrations, the way he starts to let himself go to the pleasure, his head pressed back into the pillows, eyes scrunched shut, shaky pants and curses leaving his lips. When it seems like she’s gotten him nice and relaxed, she pulls off of him, continuing to lap at his length while she fumbles around for her bottle of lube, spreading a dollop between her palms before getting her hands on his length.

“Just want you to get used to the feel of this stuff, alright, baby?” He hisses at the cool contact, but lets out a breathy, low-rumbled uh-huh as she swirls her slicked-up palm down his cock, slipping her hand down to cup his balls, a move that sets a broken groan thrumming in his throat. Her other hand presses against his thigh, getting him to open up more for her as she slips a finger down a little further, finding that tight ring of muscle and applying a bit of pressure, Joel’s hips bucking up at the sensation.

“Easy, baby, gotta stay relaxed for me if I’m gonna open you up.” He lets out a disbelieving laugh, throwing his head back as she presses her finger in, her other hand lazily stroking his cock as she does.

“Jesus, fuck– you’re good, so fucking good. Never felt anything like this be-before.” She smiles up at him, pressing a kiss to his hip as she slowly pumps her finger inside of him, only stopping to lathe more lube over her hand.

“Think you can take another one, baby? You ready for that?” He nods, a long sigh leaving his lips, but that’s not good enough for her.

“Need words, Joel. You gotta tell me what you want.”

“I– yes, more, please. Want more.” To get a please out of Joel Miller is no small feat, and she revels in it, just a little, easing a second finger in along her first one, stretching him out even more. He’s a vision, chest flushed, cheeks ablaze, one hand tugging at his mussed-up hair, the other balled into a tight fist in the sheets as she works him open. It’s messy as hell, lube slicking up everything, dripping between his thighs, his cock throbbing in her hand, his words a filthy slur of praise and curses that go straight to her aching core.

“Do you wanna finish like this, baby? Or do you wanna take it a little further?”

“More, yeah, want you– want you to go further.” She slips her fingers out of him with a smile, crawling further up the bed to steal a kiss, his mouth insistent and devouring before she pulls away with a lewd smack. His eyes trail up and down her body as she stands at the foot of the bed, first slipping her bra off, followed by her panties, before reaching for the strap. And he’s an intent and willing audience, following the way she slides the harness over her hips, deft fingers fitting it snug to her body.

“Can I have you on all fours, handsome?” He moves tentatively, a dazed look on his face when he glances over his shoulder at her, trying to watch as she spreads lube over her silicone dick. Her eyes, meanwhile, are focused back on the thing she had been so shocked to see earlier, moreso surprised that he had somehow managed to hide it from her over the months that they’ve been dating. Thick, dark ink, one of those culturally insensitive, faux-tribal numbers she’s sure he walked into a parlor and just pointed at on the wall, goaded on by Tommy and his construction crew buddies no doubt. There’s no two ways about it, Joel Miller has a tramp stamp, and she can’t help but lay a giggling kiss to it, causing him to let out a huff over his shoulder.

“I’m gonna get it removed, ok? Just– haven’t gotten around to it yet.”

“And what if I kinda like it?” She can barely keep a straight face saying it, biting back a laugh as he huffs at her again, though she’s quick to soothe him, running a palm up his spine before her hand settles at his hip.

“I’m sorry, baby, no more teasing. You ready for me?” When all he does is nod, she taps him on the ass, a few pats of her palm seeming to remind him what she wants.

“Yes, fuck, ready.” She keeps one palm splayed over his lower back (and his tattoo), holding him steady as she slowly presses forward, easing him into it with gentle rocks of her hips. He’s breathing hard, little groans loosing from his chest, but he doesn’t tell her to stop, letting out a long sigh when she’s finally seated fully inside. She curls over him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder, her words a faint rasp into his skin.

“Doing so good for me, Joel. Tell me when you want me to move, baby, take your time.” He cranes his neck, looking for a kiss she’s happy to give him, a desperate tangle that’s still so sweet.

“You can move, I just– fuck– it’s good, feels really fucking good.” It’s what she wants, wants him to feel good, and to keep feeling good, leaning slightly back on her knees to find a slow rhythm with her hips, one hand reaching around to stroke his throbbing cock, Joel letting out a harsh moan when she does. She’s never heard these sounds from him before, broken grunts and breathy chants of her name with each thrust of her hips, completely losing himself in the sensation. She curls back over him, her hips set in a deep grind as she drags her lips over his temple.

“That feel good, baby? Nice to have someone take care of you, huh? Taking it so good, Joel. You gonna come for me? Gonna let me have it?”

“Jesus fucking christ, feels so fucking good– you’re gonna kill me, shit– fucking close, so fucking close.” With one more pass of her hand over his cock, one more rock of her hips, he comes on a punched-out exhale, slumping down onto his elbows with a shuddering heave. She presses kisses all over his shoulder blades as she pulls out, trying to soothe the hiss he lets out at the ache, quick to guide him onto his back so he doesn't flop down into a pool of his own spend. If he hears her low-murmured be right back, he doesn’t show it, forearm slung over his face, chest still heaving as she slips out of the bedroom to get him a glass of water.

“Is this how you feel? After we– when I– when we–” She cuts off his stumbling question with a light laugh, sitting down on the side of the bed next to him and coaxing a few sips of water out of him.

“So you liked it?” He quirks a brow at her, one of his hands coming to rest on her thigh, squeezing the swell of it when she laughs again at his expression.

“Gotta be honest, darlin, my expectations were low. Kinda wanted to try it just to see, I guess. But fuck, that was, uh, that was something else.” She can’t help herself, leaning down for a quick kiss that he chases after with a much deeper one, greedy hands squeezing and pulling until she’s getting dragged onto his lap, wincing at the slick stick of it and pulling away.

“What? What’s wrong? C’mon, darlin, wanna take care of you now.” Though he tries to pull her back in for a kiss, she plants a firm palm on his forehead to hold him back, stifling a laugh at his perplexed expression.

“That sounds nice, but you are covered in lube and it’s sticking to everything. Can we continue this in the shower, baby?” Ever the gentleman, Joel acquiesces to her request, letting her get up before shuffling into the bathroom in all his bare glory to get the water warmed up.

It’s an irresistible urge, walking into the bathroom, seeing his back facing her, his cute little ass and the hilarious art just above it, and she just has to give a quick pinch to his hip before raking her nails over the ink, grinning at him as he turns around with an exasperated huff.

“Ain’t ever gonna let me live this down, are you?”

“That depends, do you have any other tattoos you’ve been hiding from me?” His grin goes smarmy, drawing a gasp out of her when he pulls her into him with a hooked arm around her waist, pressing a hard kiss to her lips.

“Nothing else to hide, darlin. Think you’ve seen it all now.”

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tags for folks who i think would enjoy this lmao: @wannab-urs @beskarandblasters @jksprincess10 @cutesyscreenname @swiftispunk @northernbluess @pr0ximamidnight

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller angst #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller smut #joel miller one shot #joel miller au #joel miller fic #joel miller imagine

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thewolvesof1998 · 5 months

Text

even when the heat breaks I’m still yours

For @spagheddiediaz who listened to and contributed to many fics <3<3<3

6.1K | Explicit

Eddie has many regrets in his life, lying on the floor of the cabin in the middle of a heat wave with his six foot two best friend pressing into his side while they were both trying to stay cool under the pitiful breeze of the ancient ceiling fan had the possibility to be high on that list. He turns his head to be confronted with a tattooed and freckle-covered shoulder, he can’t remember when they decided to strip down to their boxers -he might have suggested it after Buck’s third shirt had been soaked with sweat and had been clinging to his muscles in a dangerously distracting way- but at the time it had seemed like a good idea, he wasn’t sure about that now considering this was the third time in the last hour that he’s found himself turning to stare at the miles of bare skin.

“Eddie?”

“Hmm?” He drags his eyes up over collarbones, an Adam’s apple, a chin that had more stubble than usual, lips that Buck had been nervously chewing on and off for the past two days and up until he finally meets eyes as bright as they are blue. So blue in fact that they somehow made his throat even drier than it already is, god, the heat is getting to him, turning him delusional.

“Eddie.”

“Buck.”

“I’m lying in a pool of my own sweat.”

He grimaces, “Gross.”

“Eddddiiiieeee,” Buck drags his name out in a whine that sounds an awful lot like Chris or maybe Chris sounds an awful lot like Buck, either way, Eddie finds it endearing as much as it is childish. He’s truly lost his mind.

“We have to save water.” He knows what Buck wants, another shower, but they’ve got a limited supply of water and they don’t know how long it will take for the heat to break.

Buck rolls over to face him, “But I’m so hot."

read the rest on ao3

#9-1-1 #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #thewolvesof1998 writes #buddie fic #ao3 #the heatwave fic #fic: even when the heat breaks I'm still yours #911

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darksigns-exe · 10 days

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You're The Holiest Thing I Know - Nick x Noah x Laurie (OFC)

Paring: Nicholas Ruffilo x Noah Sebastian x Laurie (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, Oral Sex (M and F receiving), use of a strap on toy Word Count: 5.3k

To Know You're Mine Masterlist Masterlist

They turn around as if he’s caught them gossiping. Nick thinks that he probably has. For a second it stings, but then he remembers that these are his darlings and that it won’t be about him even if they’re giggling and so very close to each other.

He likes seeing them like this. Laurie pulls him in for a chaste little kiss, before she holds her hand out towards Nick.

“We were just talking about a little movie night? Interested?”

He doubts that was the actual topic of their conversation. He won’t question them. Whatever they have planned is theirs to surprise him with.

Nick agrees, of course. He can’t say no to them. Not when Noah is looking at him with those big brown eyes of his. He’s hunched over a little, his chin resting on Laurie’s shoulder. She looks so small with his arms wrapped around her like that.

God, he loves them so much. Seeing them like this makes Nick question how they’ve ever been without Noah. It’s not that things before weren’t good. They were. It was never bad. But now that it’s all three of them, it just feels so right.

If he could, he’d take a thousand pictures of them so that he can always keep one on him.

When he comes back into the living room after changing into something comfortable, they already have Labyrinth pulled up on the screen. He hears Laurie cursing out the microwave once again. They should probably get a new one at some point.

“There you are.” Noah pulls him in close by the waist, “Almost thought that you weren’t going to come down after all.”

Noah presses a kiss to the cheek, one hand pressed against the opposite. Nick likes that he’s picked up little things like that from Laurie. It’s endearing. They copy each other so much, and he truly does adore it.

Sometimes he feels as if he’s the new one, with how in sync they are.

Laurie joins them shortly afterwards with a bowl of popcorn. The few days off she’s had did her good. He assumes that Noah’s been taking good care of their girl too. Laurie sinks down on the other side of him, bracketing him between their bodies. He likes having them all around him like this. Nick loops his arm around Laurie’s shoulder, pulling her close against his side. Noah leans against his other side, head resting against his shoulder. He’ll slide down to curl against him soon enough. He always does.

The little bout of insecurity ebbs away slowly. The pit of it remains in his chest, though. He can’t help it sometimes. Can’t help the bitter feeling that he’s the one on the outside now. Nick knows that it’s unwarranted. He knows that they love him, that they care for him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t attach themselves to him like this. He shoves the feeling away for now, tries his best to focus on what they had right now. It’ll disappear before long. At least that’s what he hopes.

Shortly after the credits had rolled, Noah had said his good nights, kissed them both and bounded up the stairs, claiming that he still wanted to shower. Nick isn’t sure where this sudden scepticism comes from, maybe he’s just tired. The last few weeks have been busy. He’s glad that he’s basically booked out for the entire time they’re off tour, but now he wishes that he’d taken fewer appointments, spent less time away. He misses them in equal measure, and he can’t deny the bit of envy he feels when he hears Noah and Laurie talk about what they got up to while he was busy. He knows that they spent their mornings all comfy and lazy and while he’s happy that they get to have those moments, Nick can’t help himself. He doesn’t want Noah out. He just wants to have more of them.

“Nicky.” Laurie wraps her arms around his middle, “Everything okay?”

He jumps a little at the sudden contact and noise. He’d been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn’t even noticed her coming into the kitchen.

He nods, despite the still bitter feeling in his chest.

“Don’t lie.”

Nick feels her press her face against the side of his arm as she holds him.

“Just feeling a little on the sideline at the moment.” He admits then.

He can’t expect Laurie and Noah to communicate their needs and then do the opposite when he’s not feeling well.

Laurie’s arms tighten around him.

“Is this because of earlier? When you came home?”

“A little.”

She presses a kiss to his shoulder, “Noah asked me to help him out with something. I’m not going to tell you what, but you’ll enjoy it. Be patient, my love.”

He huffs out a breath, trying his hardest not to sound too frustrated with the whole thing. It eases the ache a little.

“Think we could go out some time? Just you and me?” he asks finally.

Nick didn’t think it was possible, but she hugs him closer still, “Of course. Whatever you want. Just say the word, and I’m all yours. Noah wants to get up early tomorrow; think he’s meeting up with some people. So you’ve got me all to yourself.”

He can’t keep his hands off her that night. Can’t stop himself from kissing every inch of her body until she’s a sighing, writhing mess beneath him. The mess in his head dissipates as he sinks into her. And when he falls asleep with her arm slung across his chest, it doesn’t feel nearly as bad as it did just a few hours ago.

A few days flow past until Noah finds an opportune morning to bring the topic up again. He waits until they’ve had breakfast and they’ve both kissed Nick goodbye. He’s bouncing with excitement when he finds her in the en suite of the big bedroom.

Noah wraps himself around her partially naked body.

“What’s with you today?”

“Do you think we could…”

“Today?” she fixes him in the mirror.

He nods eagerly, “Been thinking about it all night.”

His own enthusiasm catches him a little off guard. Going down on a guy hadn’t been something he’d thought about a lot before this. Hell, even the idea of practising the whole thing with her would have sounded completely baffling to him a year ago. But here he is, asking his girlfriend to help him get used to giving head so that he can show their boyfriend a good time. That alone would have given him an aneurysm when he’d first moved in with them.

“Alright.” her hand finds the side of his face, “Don’t worry so much.”

Noah kisses her cheek, “Thank you for doing this.”

“Of course, everything for the two of you.”

There’s a softness on her face. Noah is so glad that he has the two of them. He lets Laurie get ready in peace. He knows that she likes having a bit of time to herself in the morning. The time spent idle will do nothing for his nerves, but she’ll bring him back down quickly enough. Noah keeps himself busy with his phone, makes note of a verse that’s been floating around his head for a few days now.

He looks up when Laurie enters the bedroom again. Her skin shines with the lotions and creams she’s used. God, she’s beautiful.

“Nervous?” she asks, tossing the shirt she’d worn that night into the little basket by the bathroom door.

“Just a little.”

There’s no use denying it. Laurie will pick up on his writhing hands quickly enough. She always does.

“We can take our time with it. No need to rush into it.” Laurie sits down next to him on the bed, “Do you want to see it first?”

The hesitant little voice in the back of his mind tells him that he doesn’t. He nods in spite of it.

The little smile Laurie gives him makes Noah feel just a little bit more settled. She gives his thigh a little, reassuring squeeze, before she gets up from the bed again.

Laurie opens one of the drawers on the big commode on the opposite side of the room.

He watches her rummage through its contents for a moment before she places a mess of straps onto the top. Her search continues for a moment longer, until she rises to her feet.

“We have a smaller one, but this one is closest to Nick.”

Noah tries not to let the size scare him. He’s seen Nick before - he’s had his hands on him more than once. It’s not as if he didn’t know what he’d be getting himself into.

Laurie holds the toy out for him to take. It’s heavier than expected. It feels similar to Nick in his hand, but it’s so strangely cold.

“We’ll take it nice and slow. We have all day.”

He takes some time getting used to the feeling of the toy in his hand. Laurie watches him carefully; watches as he wraps his hand around it.

“What happens now?” he asks quietly.

Technically he knows. He’s had enough girls go down on him to know what comes now. Laurie gives him a knowing look. Noah’s watched her doing this exact thing for Nick just a few days earlier.

“You know what comes next, darling.” Laurie says calmly, “Do you want to be on your knees?”

He hesitates for a moment too long.

“We can try it with you sitting on the bed. I don’t know how well -”

“Nick will want me on my knees, right?” Noah asks quietly.

Laurie’s face falls a little, and Noah thinks that he’s said something wrong. She cradles his face so gently, thumbs drifting across the tops of his cheeks.

“He’ll want you wherever you’re most comfortable. You know that he doesn’t expect you to bend and break for him. Whatever you can give will be enough. For both of us.” One of her hands leaves his face, in order to fuss with a stray strand of his hair, “And you’ve been on your knees for me. Plenty of times.”

His face flushes a little at the memories of his face buried between her thighs. The difference between this and what he wants to do for Nick is that he knows what to do when he’s face to face with her pussy.

“I want to try.” he nods, mostly to convince himself.

Laurie pulls him in for a chaste little kiss, “We can take breaks whenever you need them.”

Noah has to admit that watching her slip on the harness is a little nerve wrecking. He doesn’t have it in him to question why they have it in the first place. The visual of Nick spread out of her burrows into his mind, but he shoves that to the back of his mind for another day. He can’t think about that right now.

He still sits on the edge of the bed, fingers nervously tangled together.

None of that helps when he really takes in the visual of Laurie with the toy dangling in front of her. It takes mere seconds for his cock to press against the fabric of his sweats.

“Kneel down for me, love?” The gentle tone of her voice breaks through his thoughts.

Noah nods absent-mindedly. Laurie reaches for his hand as he sinks down, gives it a comforting squeeze before she brings it to rest against her thigh.

“You’ve seen me do this, and you know what you like. You’ll be just fine.”

It’s a little intimidating.

Noah tries to remember what Laurie did the last time he’s seen her suck Nick's dick. Wrapping his hand around it feels foreign. There’s no movement in it, and it feels nothing like the real thing.

“Give me your hand.” Laurie speaks softly.

He does as she asks. Noah tries hard not to be shocked when she spits into his palm. It’s so oddly obscene, he’s seen her do it plenty of times, but somehow when it’s in his hand it feels mad.

“That’ll make it easier.”

And now that he thinks about it, he’d do the same thing when he gets a hand around himself.

“Go on, love.”

Noah works his hand along the silicone. It feels odd at first but when he feels her hand in his hair a little surge of bravery floods through him. He directs the tip of it towards his mouth. Noah lets his eyes fall shut before he gives a first shy lick across the head. It’s not nearly as weird as he’d thought. And after the first comes a second and a third, and soon enough he finds himself wanting more of it. Laurie’s hand in his hair coaxes him a little closer. It’s such a dizzying feeling. He feels a little clumsy. The head of the toy bumps against the roof of his mouth a few times, before he finds the right angle.

“You’re doing so good.” Her praise sends a shiver down his spine, “Not as bad as you thought it’d be, huh?”

Noah pulls off the toy.

Laurie draws in a sharp breath when he does, and he really cannot place the emotion on her face.

“Feels good.”

She pushes the loose strands of hair away from his face, “I can’t wait for Nick to see you like this.”

He looks so gorgeous like this. A part of her wants to keep him like this. Wants to keep him soft and gentle on his knees for them. She really cannot wait for Nick to feel this. Noah is so eager, so willing to please. He’ll be so good for their boy.

She watches him squirm and shift as keeps up his effort. The hand that is resting against his own thigh twitches impatiently. Laurie knows that he wants to touch himself, and she adores that he doesn’t. She hasn’t told him that he can’t, but there was also no explicit yes.

“Noah.” His eyes shoot up to meet hers immediately, “You can touch yourself if you want to.”

Relief washes over his face as his hand practically flies towards the obvious tent in his sweats. There’s a slim part of her that wishes that she could actually feel it, but it quickly vanishes in favour of a different kind of ache. Watching him touch himself like that when his face is buried between her thighs always makes her head swim, this isn’t different.

He’s grows more and more confident with every bop of his head. She doesn’t know how much more of this she can stand before her own impatience takes over. Her hand finds its way back into his hair, and Noah sighs so beautifully when her nails scrape against his skin of his scalp. The next time she looks down at him, his hand is pushed behind the waist band of his sweats. The movement is slow, but it’s noticeable enough. By now, the cotton of her underwear is soaked through and if she doesn’t get his mouth on her properly soon, she’ll lose her mind.

Laurie watches as he works himself faster, more irregular. He’s close. She can’t look away. The little sounds he makes fill her head with cotton. He sighs around the toy, before he pulls off it until just the head remains between his lips. Laurie tightens her grip on his hair, making him look up at her.

She wishes that he’d rid himself of the sweats so that she could see him properly, but he is far too occupied with his own pleasure. Noah pulls off suddenly, before his head drops against her thigh. His mouth falls open. A silent gasp that breaks from his throat and his hand stills.

Noah stays where he is, resting against her thigh while he catches his breath. She loves how he looks in these moments. That blissed out pleasure that captures his entire being is her favourite thing to look at. He blinks up at her, lips still parted and spit-slicked.

“You did so good, darling.” she speaks softly, “Think you’ve earned a treat.”

His eyes light up at that.

Laurie carefully undoes the buckles that hold the harness up against her waist. As much as this is his treat, she wants - needs - to feel him too. She’s just as desperate for it as he is, and when he surges forward to burrow his face into her, she can’t stop herself from letting out a most wanton moan.

It doesn’t matter how often he puts his mouth on her, it always feels brand new. He’s like a starved man today, burying his face against her pussy until she swears that air doesn’t reach him any more. He licks into her over and over again. It’s almost too much already. Laurie feels him moan and sigh against her. She loves how much he enjoys this. Nick is good to her, always has been. But there’s something about the absolute desperation that fills Noah whenever he’s between her thighs that makes her tummy twist and flip with pleasure.

Laurie lets herself fall back against the mattress. As hungry as he seems to be for her today, she knows that he’ll take his time. And so Laurie lets herself sink into the feeling of his mouth on her pussy and his fingers digging into her hips and thighs. She’s long-lost track of time. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she hears him whine.

By the time she feels herself unravel, Laurie swears that she is floating a good few inches above the bed. Blood rushes in her ears, obscuring all sounds besides the thumping of her heart. It almost doesn't feel real. She lets herself float in that feeling, enjoys the levity it brings her. They’re so good to her. Sometimes she wonders how she found herself with the two of them. Before she can spend much thought on the matter, a gentle hand finds the top of her thigh. She hadn’t noticed Noah climbing onto the bed to sit next to her. His eyes are soft with that gentle tiredness that always takes over his being when they’re done.

He slumps down next to her on his back. When she looks over at him, she finds herself warming even more. She loves them both so much. Sometimes it washes over her like a tidal wave, this sudden realisation that she has these wonderful boys in her life. She loves them, and in return she is loved so thoroughly that it shakes her a little when she thinks about it too much.

Laurie wraps herself around him. The thump of his heart is heavy in her ear. Her fingers graze across the skin of his chest, along the length of his ribs, until the faint trace of a giggle falls from his lips. His hand finds her back, pulling her closer against him.

“Thank you for doing this.” his voice barely breaks through the silence around them.

“Was it good?” She asks softly, not lifting her head from where it is resting against his chest.

Noah’s hand curls around the side of her body, warm and comforting, “So much better than I could have imagined.”

“I’m glad.” she replies, “Nick will lose his mind, you know?”

A laugh rumbles through his chest, “I know. Might lose it too, I think.”

Laurie presses a kiss to his sternum “If you want me there I’ll be right by your side the entire time. Nick won’t ask anything from you that you’re not willing to give.”

“I want you there.” Noah says firmly.

Another kiss to the same spot, “Then I’ll be there. You lead the way. It’s all in your hands. If you need to stop, just let us know.”

They’re all around him. Noah to his left, Laurie on his right – just the way he likes it. Really, it doesn’t matter how they’re arranged, as long as he has them both by his side. He can’t ask for more, and he doesn’t want to. They’re all he needs. It’s been a little over six months since Noah became a part of them, and it still feels so impossibly right.

It feels as if Noah slowly thaws with every day that passes. He’s becoming more and more affectionate and open with his feelings, and Nick is genuinely happy to see him grow like that.

Nick turns his attention back to the show they’re watching. They’ve watched it plenty of times, so he doesn’t mind zoning out a little.

A hand – too large to be Laurie's – wanders up his side. He almost doesn’t want to look. Noah gets so painfully shy with his affection sometimes. When his hand dips beneath the fabric of his shirt, Nick’s breath instantly hitches a little. Noah’s fingers pulse against his skin, and for a brief second he thinks that they’re about to vanish again. To his surprise, they remain where they are. And even more surprising, lips come to meet the side of his neck. Laurie seems to be blissfully unaware of what is happening on the other side of the sofa.

Nick tries to keep his breathing steady. He doesn’t want to disrupt whatever Noah is up to, doesn’t want to jostle him more than necessary.

Noah does pull back a little when Laurie sits up. He remains close, but the soft brush of his lips suddenly disappears and Nick thinks that he’s never missed anything more.

She presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek before she pushes herself up onto her feet “I’ll be right back. Don’t get too busy without me.”

Nick barely registers her looping around the back of the sofa. She leans down next to Noah. Whatever she whispers to him has him huff out a breathy laugh. As soon as Laurie has left the room, Noah is back on him.

“What’s gotten into you?” Nick finds himself asking.

Noah retreats immediately. Nick doesn’t find the panic he’s seen so often on his face, instead he finds himself faced with an expression that so far has been reserved for Laurie. There’s a hunger, a deep set desire on his face and it takes Nick a moment too long to realise that it is directed at him.

“We don’t have to -” Noah says so softly.

It’s not the same shy tone he’s grown used to. This is different. He seems more sure of himself and Nick thinks that maybe this was what he had asked Laurie to help him with.

“Just curious about what you’re up to.”

His cheeks flush at that. He looks so gorgeous with his tousled hair and pink cheeks. Nick can’t help himself. He reaches up, carefully untangles some of the strands. His hand comes to the side of Noah’s face. He gently steers him to meet his lips. It always surprises him how they fit together, how Noah moulds himself against him so easily. Nick isn’t sure when he’s moved to straddle him, his hands find Noah’s waist nevertheless.

It feels different from the other times they’ve been together. He seems to have a set course of action and Nick lets himself be dragged along without a fight.

Noah is busy leaving what will surely be a wild array of bruises on his neck when Laurie returns to the living room. Nick feels barely cognisant enough to feel her hand drifting through his hair as she passes him on her way to the far end of the sofa. Noah’s hands return to his sides. The cool touch soothes his wired nerves a little.

Whatever calm had settled in him immediately dissipates again when Noah shifts himself onto the carpet in front of him. Nick has to force himself to calm his breathing before he looks at him again.

The look of wide-eyed pleasure he’s met with shoots right through him.

“Noah.” He sighs, almost in disbelief.

With the film long forgotten, Nick relinquishes himself to the hands roaming across his thighs. They find the waistband of his sweatpants, not tugging but gently drifting across the sliver of bare skin he finds there. It’s a silent question, he waits until it is asked out loud, though.

“Can I take these off?” he sounds just a little hesitant when he asks.

Suddenly, it is Nick who finds himself at a loss for words. He nods, maybe a little too desperate. Now that Noah is so close, so willing to share his affection, he can’t wait to feel all of it. He needs to feel Noah’s hands, his lips everywhere.

“Nick.” Laurie speaks from his left, “If you want him to use his words I’m going to need you to do the same.”

“Yes. Please.”

She looks from him to Noah almost expectantly.

“Good.” Noah says, sounding surprisingly firm, “Sit up.”

In a way, Nick is glad that they’re leading the way. He pushes his hips up, allowing Noah to pull his sweats and underwear down his waist and thighs. Noah pauses for a moment. The tip of his tongue flits across his bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth. A moment later, he taps against the side of his calf. Nick lifts his leg, so that he can remove the garments entirely.

Nick doesn’t care enough to check where his clothes disappear to, not when he feels Noah’s hands drift up his legs again. His breath catches in his throat when a kiss is pressed to the inside of his knee. Slowly as can be, Noah works his way back up his thigh with the softest kisses. His focus drifts in and out the higher up Noah reaches. He’s so close to where Nick wants him, so desperately. His other hand brushes up along the inside of his thigh. The tips of his fingers dance across the top of his shaft. Nick lets his eyes fall shut as his hand wraps around him.

He sighs with the first stroke of his hand. It’s slow – torturous, even. His head drops against the back of the sofa. It takes him embarrassingly little to get fully hard. Maybe if he’d been a little more aware of the things around him, Nick would have noticed that Noah had long stopped lavishing kisses along the insides of his thighs. Maybe he would have noticed the silent exchange between his two darlings, or Laurie slipping down onto the carpet next to Noah.

“Go on, darling.” he hears the words so faintly in the back of his consciousness that they barely register, “You did so good for me. Why don’t you show our Nicky?”

A moment of silent passes before Nick feels the hesitant brush of a tongue against the head of his cock. His eyes shoot down immediately. The sight before him takes his breath away. Both of his loves in front of him like this wasn’t something he’d expected from this evening. He watches as Laurie leans close to Noah. Nick can’t tell what she whispers to him, but it seems to be enough to give him the confidence to wrap his lips around his head.

Nick can’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front of him. He’s transfixed, spellbound as he watches Noah work his way down his cock. The younger takes his time with it, pulls back to give himself a break when he needs it. His hand remains wrapped around the parts he can’t reach yet. The rhythm he settles into is just enough to have Nick’s head reeling with it. He tries to keep his hands to himself, tries to let Noah stay in the rhythm he’s found, but his hands seem to have a mind of their own. Nick carefully pulls the loose strands of hair away from Noah’s face.

He looks up at Nick, eyes wide with pleasure, and Nick can’t stop the whine that falls from him.

“How does he feel, Nicky?” Laurie’s voice breaks through the fuzz in his head.

He finds her looking at him with that curiosity she always regards them with. Her lips are parted with bated breath, tongue dipping out to dart across her bottom lip.

“So good, god, he’s so good.” he manages to choke out between breathless sighs.

Noah moans around him, and he swears that he’s never heard him sound so lost in his own pleasure before. Nick can’t look any more. His head tips back again, eyes finding the overly expensive light fixture Laurie had insisted on. He has to think of anything but the boiling feeling in his belly.

Occasionally, it still feels a little clumsy, but the fact that Noah is doing this for him alone is enough to drive him closer and closer to the edge. He can faintly hear Laurie speaking, but the rushing of blood in his ears is too loud to let him understand any of the words.

His hand flexes where it’s still tangled into Noah’s hair, not to tear or to pull, but to ground himself in feeling. Nick isn’t sure how much more of this he can take. He’s long lost control of the moans that break free from his throat, and he barely manages to stop himself from bucking up into the warmth of Noah’s mouth.

“Don’t stop.” maybe he would have been embarrassed by how desperate he sounds, but Nick is far too close to the edge to worry about that.

Noah’s hand grips into his thigh as he presses closer, works even more of him into his mouth. It’s so familiar, but at the same time it feels so unlike Laurie.

He feels her crawl up the side of his body, before she curls against him. Her lips find the side of his neck in a soft kiss. She brings a hand to the side of his face to gently coax his head up again.

“You’re so close, aren’t you?” she asks, her words sounding just as breathless as he feels.

Nick nods, perhaps a little too eagerly.

“Are you going to cum for him?”

“Please.”

“You hear that, darling, hear how badly he wants it?”

Another moan reverberates through his spine. Laurie manages to steer him towards Noah just as Nick feels himself fall. He can’t stop himself from tugging Noah just a little deeper onto his cock as he spills into his mouth. Noah works him through it so diligently. And he swears that he can feel him swallow.

Nick opens his eyes just in time to see Laurie lean down to kiss Noah. His vision swims with the sight of them and if he hadn’t just cum, that would be enough for him to do it again. Noah follows her up onto the sofa, wriggles his way between them. A second later, Nick is pulling him in for a desperate kiss. He doesn’t have the words to express how he feels at that moment, the kiss will have to do until he’s in control of his mind again.

“Was it good?” Noah asks when Nick releases him.

He sounds so awfully insecure, but Nick doesn’t miss the glint in his eyes.

“So good.” he pulls him in for another kiss, “You did so, so good for me. Thank you.”

“I told you he’d lose it.” Laurie presses herself against Noah’s back, “Want us to take care of you now?”

He’s never seen Noah blush so quickly. He shakes his head, looking almost a little ashamed.

“Oh honey.” she says with a soft sigh, “Did you?”

Noah nods, and only now does Nick notice the damp patch at the front of the other’s shorts.

“Did you like it so much?” Nick asks, finally having regained some kind of grasp on himself.

“Been thinking about it since – since Laurie helped me.”

He’ll have to ask more questions about that later, for now he’s content with knowing that he wasn’t the only one that enjoyed all of it.

Laurie quickly ushers the both of them up into the bathroom to get cleaned up. And when they fall into bed a while later, Nick finds himself sandwiched between his loves, and he’s never felt more at peace than he does at that moment.

#fic: to know you're mine #nicholas ruffilo x noah sebastian x ofc #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian x ofc #nicholas ruffio x ofc

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aziraphales-library · 2 months

Note

Hello, thank you for the work you put into this blog. It might be a bit early, but are there any S2 fix-it recs yet?

Hi! We have a plentiful #fix-it tag now! Here are some more to add...

you're the victim of your crime by JustNerdyThings (T)

It's a simple decision, really. It's simple in the way things rarely are, in that it's not much of a decision at all. Whatever Aziraphale might stand to gain by staying in Heaven, it cannot possibly compare to what he's already lost down on Earth. So Aziraphale leaves. He miracles up his letter of resignation, pretends to clear out his still-empty desk, and leaves. And he hopes against hope that somehow, someday, Crowley might forgive him.

hungry work by CCs_World (E)

“You must understand,” Aziraphale had whispered. He was on the doorstep of the bookshop, months after his departure, looking in at Crowley — disheveled, both of them. Broken, both of them. Afraid, both of them. Hopeful, both of them. “I understand, Aziraphale,” Crowley had said back. They had stretched out a hand to Aziraphale. “Come on. Let’s think of a plan together.” And they had. Somehow, miraculously, ineffably, a second apocalypse had been averted. Heaven and Hell were cut off. They were free — truly free. And they had all the time in the universe. So, naturally, they left London. OR: After the Second Coming does not Come, Crowley and Aziraphale move to the South Downs. However, living together is difficult when there are over 6000 years of tension between them - tension which must be resolved if they are to have their happily ever after.

Trembling with tenderness by HolRose (T)

When the former demon Crowley is surprised in his Mayfair flat by a visit from his erstwhile boss and their ex-Archangel partner asking for assistance, Crowley has that familiar sinking feeling that something he did in the past has come back to bite him on the arse. When the current Supreme Archangel materialises in his flat shortly afterwards, Crowley knows the time has come for them to really talk at last. Just as soon as they’ve got rid of their visitors, that is. A post Season 2 fix-it fic in which they communicate properly, and Aziraphale demonstrates just how crafty, and also loving, he can be. This is one for those who might like something genuinely soft and romantic after the ending to Season 2.

We'll make Heaven a place on Earth by arabellas_court (E)

Aziraphale unfolded the piece of paper slowly beneath the horrid lighting. He cleared his throat and looked around, the corners of his mouth faltering just a second when he landed on Crowley. He looked down at the paper. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—” “Jesus Christ,” Crowley grumbled. “No, dear, he came later, remember?” ------ Crowley knows his worth. He can't take Aziraphale back immediately after how hurt he's been. And for once, Aziraphale has to work for that forgiveness. Both of them are a mess. Both of them go to therapy—unexpectedly, together. Angst with a happy ending.

Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)

What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic. Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone. Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity. May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart. This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (T)

Aziraphale stares back at the Metatron with renewed optimism. “I know where my loyalty stands, Sir,” he starts, even managing a small smile. “And I do not need to prove myself to them. When the Time comes, they will enjoy what I’ve been working on.” He sounds convincing, really. Honest, reliable and responsible. Crowley decides this is a good time to whistle: “Someone’s getting all professional up here.” Aziraphale dares to peep in his direction, hoping to convey with one brief look everything he is thinking about: ‘Shut up, will you? I’m trying to do something here.’ Crowley smirks, of course. He really is so annoying. “Well, Aziraphale, you may not need to prove yourself to them,” the Metatron reaches for something inside his jacket, “but you need to prove yourself to me.” Aziraphale fails Heaven's test (of course), and now he has to fix an even bigger mess. Throw a messy break up and a Second Coming in the mix and, somehow, you get a getaway car and a cottage in the South Downs. A lot can happen in a day. (Post Season 2; my very own attempt at fixing things.)

- Mod D

#good omens #good omens s2 #ineffable husbands #fix-it #mod d

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katyawriteswhump · 2 months

Text

the power of love, part 11 (steddie, steve whump fic, stobin)

Alternate ending S4: Steve has a habit of surviving near death experiences then getting sick for no reason. And Eddie and those fatal bat bites? After an impossible feat of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation from Steve, he’s mysteriously fixed. So, Eddie’s back to being banished, this time with Steve and Robin in tow. Eddie’s healing, but Steve isn’t… and life gets even more confusing, when Eddie develops feelings for Steve, which aren’t entirely unrequited.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

(also on AO3 here and as part of my steve whump fic series)

Steve POV

1978—Lover’s Lake

Steve sinks, pulls upward with all he’s got left. He bursts through the surface, screaming: “Dad! Mom! Dad? I’m… lost… Heeeelp!”

The dark waters close seamlessly above his head.

His panic dies quickly, along with the burning pressure in his chest. He sees a swimmer approaching across the depths, like a light rippling through gloom. Their face is kind and strange—he can’t tell if they’re young or really old, or a guy or girl.

“Not yet,” they say. Their arms fold around him, and he’s calm and he isn’t cold.

Until he is.

A thousand icy needles jab at his skin, and he whimpers at the sensation of being dragged, carried. Voices shout in harsh, frightening tones, and then…

Apart from in his dreams, he doesn’t see THEM again for another seven years.

“Who do you work for?” demands that Soviet son-of-a-bitch, for the billionth time.

Steve is tied up, bloodied, not sure if he’s laughing or crying. He’s sure as heck losing his mind, and… wtf?

The other Soviet bastard raises his hand.

“Oh, come on! No, no, no, seriously?”

Steve doesn’t see the blow coming. Pain flashes up and darkness slams down—the darkness of blood, a rising, relentless tide. It washes him back into that calm place, and all his panic and pain float away.

He sees THEM again, in the fearless dark.

“Still not yet,” they whisper.

The echoes hook him back. It’s Robin: “Help, heeeeelp!”

Oh yeah, they’ve been captured by the Soviets.

“My ears are ringing,” he tells her, “I can’t properly breathe, and I feel like my eyes’s about to pop out of my skull. Apart from that, I’m doing pretty good.”

He shouldn’t be, though. If there wasn’t so much else to be shitting himself about, he’d be yelling it loud enough to deafen them both. After that mauling from Hargrove, the doctor’s warning had been brutal. Any more head trauma, and he might have a stroke, a brain bleed, go blind, deaf, lose his memory, go mad. He could even die. He should be dead now, right?

Then it all gets even whackier.

A blue tide rushes through the Soviet base. He yells for Robin, but everything’s already obliterated. The waters carry him along, limbs flailing free, no longer hurting, not even so scared. He knows it’s THEM, although this tsunami isn’t gentle. It’s Niagara levels of powerful and near as water can get to fire and fury.

“You’ll know,” they tell him. “You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

Then he’s back in the present, slowly waking up.

He figures he’s been dreaming. Yeah, about those evil Soviets, and about… stuff that didn’t happen. Where the hell did that flood and fire crap come from?

“You’ll know when it’s time to come home.”

It’s deeply freaky, and he hates it. And Jesus Christ, why is his shoulder a screaming mess of pain? He opens his eyes.

“Robin?” She’s in her usual spot, sitting on the edge of his bunk.

“Steve? Oh, thank God!”

“What happened this time? I’m so sick of…” He raises his head, flops it back again. There’s a bone-deep ache through his neck and both his arms. His wrists feel mangled. “Shit! Somebody was coming! Did they… Where’s Eddie?”

She puffs through her nostrils. “It’s okay. It was Hopper and El.”

Yeah, that makes some sorta sense. Hopper and Eleven were on the run too, after all. “Where’s Eddie? Is he all right?”

“Don’t ask me. Not spoken to him since he left you unconscious, hanging by one wrist. What was he even thinking?”

Blood rushes to Steve’s face. “That wasn’t entirely his fault. Honestly, I… uh…”

“I don’t care if you begged him on one knee! It was utterly moronic.”

“Listen, I was a moron too—it was matching moronic-ness. We were fooling around, and… Look, I passed out after he left to warn you. Before that, I basically forced him to go.”

“Forced him while roped up? You get yet another pass, Dingus. It’s gonna take a short-to-medium-length Ice Age for him to earn the same.”

Steve sighs hard. He’ll talk her around when he’s gotten the energy.

“Steve, can I ask you something?” She picks at the last flakes of that nail polish..

“If I said ‘no,’ would it make any difference?”

“Do you know anything about the fantastically random rainstorm last night?”

“About the whut?”

His mind starts racing, in sync with his pulse. Trouble is, he’s beginning to get it. He knows that they—that thing in Lover’s Lake—saved his life. More than once. He still hasn’t got a clue about the rain. Or has he?

You freaked out last night, and thunder clouds hijacked your brain.

“Steve? You okay?”

“Jesus, I’m…” Nope, still not great. He slowly sits up. Under the blanket, he’s shirtless. He catches his left arm with his right, cradling it.

“Does your shoulder hurt bad?”

“No, Robin. It’s just randomly gone purple. Gonna be pitching for the Hoosiers this weekend for sure.” He notices one of his wrists is bandaged. “Got any of those left? Guess I’ll need a sling or something.”

“Yeah, I tried the lake water trick. Not much happened this time. On the other hand, Hopper said it was a miracle you didn’t dislocate it, so… I’ll, uh, go get him. He’s got a ton of fresh supplies."

She goes, and Steve painfully eases his way into a clean shirt. It turns out to be another Hellfire Club one, which Eddie brought back from his meet at Skull Rock. Oh genius, Henderson, just brilliant! Get Eddie and me walking around with targets painted on our chests, why don’t you? Worse, I’m gonna look like a nerd. With TERRIBLE HAIR. The effort of getting his sweater on over it all, literally brings tears to his eyes.

Then he sits up straight, on the edge of the bunk. He supports his bad arm, while forcing his features into his best ‘don’t-give-a-damn’ mask.

When Hopper stoops under the door of the bunkroom, Steve’s jaw drops anyhow. He barely recognises the guy. Uh… wow? He’s not wearing a police uniform, but he still looks in goddamn charge, with an Indiana-Jones style hat that screams authority. He’s even gotten his hands on what looks like a police-issue firearm, in a halter at his side.

“Hey,” says Hopper. “You got yourself pretty beat up again, huh?”

“My shoulder hurts,” he whispers. It comes out so humiliatingly shakily, that when Hopper takes off his hat and sits down beside him, Steve looks away sharply. Oh, for Christ’s sake! He sniffs, dabs his eyes, pulls himself together. “It’s not so bad,” he mumbles.

“Yeah? You got tough joints, kid.”

Steve bites his lip to the point of pain.

Hopper’s brought a first-aid kit, and he fashions a sling for him. As he does, he fills Steve in on a few more details of how the hell he came back from the dead. Also, about what’s been going on in Hawkins, which is basically under military occupation. He ties the sling behind Steve’s neck, squeezes his good shoulder. “You take it easy. Sun’s up and we’ll be off in a few minutes.”

Hopper heads out. Steve scowls at his back.

He ought to be relieved Hopper’s here. Admittedly, he’s been a total flop at taking care of himself and the others. Which only makes him more pissed with Hopper. How could somebody go through that in a Soviet gulag, win a wrestling match with demo-gorgons, and still come out alive, swinging, and the toughest dude in the state?

He gets his sneakers on and staggers as far as the door. Robin is loading the remnants of their supplies into an armoured Humvee, painted in military khaki and spattered with mud. Hopper’s fiddling under the hood, and Eleven hovers nearby. She gives Steve a sort-of smile, which he returns, while seething,

That sick son-of-a-bitch Brenner took her hair again?

“Where’s Eddie?” he asks, stepping further out, while fighting a wave of dizziness.

“Skulking,” calls Eddie, sloping out from some hiding spot. Robin folds her arms and stomps away. Steve squelches across the sticky ground toward Eddie. He looks so forlorn—hair flattened like a soggy puppy’s—that Steve can’t help grinning.

“Sorry,” mouths Steve. “Sucky timing, huh?”

Eddie pulls a silly face, which doesn’t reach his pink eyes. Steve edges closer. Eddie shuffles back, looking genuinely spooked, which sends Steve’s mood into free-fall.

He sits down heavily on Eddie’s empty beer-crate and nods at the Humvee. “You guys stole that baby?”

“Had to get around the roadblocks somehow,” says Hopper. “That rain churned up a ton of mud. It’s gonna slow them down, but it’s gonna slow us down too. We gotta move.”

“We? Why are we all going?” Steve hates this idea. Even more than he hates how he’s defaulting to surly teenager mode. He wonders—not for the first time though not for the billionth—if his actual parents have given him up for dead. “Don’t wanna seem ungrateful, Chief, but I really don’t feel like a road trip.”

“O’Sullivan has torn Hawkins apart, searching for El. Next, he’s gonna have the army sweep this whole area. You won’t stand a chance.”

“Can’t we go back to those caves?” Steve mumbles toward his mud-flecked sneakers.

“When they find you,” says Hopper, “best-case scenario—they hand Munson here over the police, or the cronies who count for it these days. Worst case-scenario? O’Sullivan keeps hold of him, as well as you.”

“Why the heck would some army guy be interested in me?”

He senses Hopper close in. “You signed the NDAs, Steve. They know YOU know about Eleven. They’ve interrogated Joyce and Jonathan, but there’s only so much they can do with people they can’t easily ‘disappear.’ If they think you’ve got intel as to her whereabouts… You get where I’m going with this?”

“So what?” Steve can’t look up. Like before, he can’t let Hopper see. “W-won’t be the first time I’ve been tortured.”

“Yeah, and I’m sorry, kid. But tough talk ain’t gonna save you.”

“They kill people,” says Eleven. “I didn’t want to run, to leave Mike. To leave Max.” She sounds so very sad. “We had no choice.”

“I honestly don’t think we have much choice either, Steve,” says Robin, emerging from the cabin behind with the blankets. “Hop’s got more bottled water from Lover’s Lake in the truck. If you get sick or hurt, it could help.”

On being reminded of all that shit, Steve rubs his face, groans.

“We gonna talk about that now?” asks Eddie. “You know, the ginormous, soggy elephant spouting water out of its trunk? The one giving Steve buffed-to-the-max powers?”

“Powers?” Steve’s forced laugh comes out way too loud. “El can throw cars around with her mind, rip holes in dimensions. I can heal stuff. A bit. Then I pass out for half a day. It’s pointless.”

“Neeeewsflash,” sings Eddie. “You brought me back from the dead. Not pointless, I hope.”

Steve laughs again, totally hollow. What Eddie says feels fake, somehow. Was that even really him, or… Ugh, his head is too muddled.

“Using my powers tires me out too,” adds Eleven.

“Uh, hello? Can we please discuss the super-magical weather?” Having flung the bedding in the Humvee, Robin flings her arms toward the skies. “Twice, we were in danger. Twice, Steve rearranged the heavens to cover our sorry asses.”

Steve huffs: “Robin, I have no control over—"

“You have to learn control,” says Eleven.

“We can talk about this on the journey.” Hopper takes Steve by the elbow. He urges him to his feet, finally forcing Steve to slam him with a full-on glare. “C’mon, get in.”

Part 12

tags: @estrellami-1 @kal-ology @finntheehumaneater (thank you, thank you, thank you!) If anybody else would like to be tagged on this fic or any of my writing, please let me know :) Reblogs, comments and likes also very much appreciated :) Thank you for reading so far :)

(also part of my steve whump fic series on AO3)

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 12 Part 13

#steve x eddie #steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #steve harrington whump #steddie fanfic #stranger things fanfic #steve harrington x eddie munson #eddie munson #stobin fanfic #platonic stobin #stobin #stobin fic #stobin friendship #stranger things #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington hurt/comfort

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runninriot · 9 days

Text

this wasn't planned but i guess Sweet Thing is now a two-parter

written for @subeddieweek

complete fic uploaded on ao3

Safe Space

rated: E | tags: Client Eddie Munson, Pro Dom Steve Harrington, 18+ content, sensation play, anal play, smut | snippet, complete fic and tag list on ao3

Master H, it says on the website Eddie stumbled upon one lonely night a few months ago. He introduced himself as Steve but Eddie never calls him by his name.

He calls him Sir when he addresses him. It’s what they agreed upon when Eddie entered the dungeon for the first time. It felt almost like an interview, like he was applying for a job. Which is kind of funny because it’s the other man who gets paid to do these things to him.

Eddie didn’t really know what to expect when he decided to get his fix from a stranger, a professional, someone who knows what they’re doing. Turned out it was the best decision he could’ve made. Ever.

This is a safe space to explore, to want without being prone to fall for yet another man making false promises. Another man abusing his trust, abusing his desire to give up control.

Here, Eddie can fully succumb to the feeling of letting go.

“Please, Sir. I need more.”

It should be embarrassing how whiny his voice sounds, how messed-up he already is, trembling violently, helplessly pulling at the restraints keeping him tied to the bed. They’ve only started their session and he’s already so hard, so ready to come. So ready for Steve to tip him over the edge. But it would be a shame to fall so quickly because it’s the before that really gets to Eddie every time.

He enjoys it maybe too much. To be at the other man’s mercy, unable to get away from his heavenly torture.

The clamps on his nipples hurt, send a rippling wave of pain through his whole body whenever the Dom tugs at them or tightens the screws to punish him for squirming around although he told him to stay still.

Ordered him to be good, to earn his reward.

Eddie wants to be good, tries his best to keep his body from jolting up at the feeling of needle-like pricks biting into his skin when Steve uses this tool that looks like a mix of medical device and instrument of torture. It’s called a neurowheel, Eddie’s learned when they talked about their scene. Before they started. Before Eddie got spread out on the bed like a offering for a God – and maybe he is.

Because the man currently teasing the ever-loving shit out of him, tormenting the insides of his thighs with a satisfied grin on his handsome face, truly is a divine creature.

It’s not only his looks, although Eddie has found himself getting lost in his big, beautiful eyes a lot lately; they’re so soft in comparison to the hardness in his demanding voice when he orders him around, tells him what to do.

‘Kneel down.’

‘Open up.’

‘Hold still.’

‘Come for me.’

He’s guardian angel and soul-eating demon, both morphed into one perfect body.

And not for the first time, Eddie wished he was real. That he could have someone like him in his life. Out there, in the real world. That he could have this, always, not only when he’s paying for this perfect illusion.

But he’d rather have this than nothing at all.

It’s enough, at least for the time being.

And he’s not going to let his mind’s racing thoughts ruin the moment. He needs more though, to shut up the voices.

“Sir, please! Fill me up, let me come! Please, I need it!” Eddie begs, doesn’t feel stupid doing so because he knows how much Steve likes when he dissolves into a pleading, sobbing mess. He can see it in his eyes and the way he greedily licks his lips like he’s craving for a taste.

Eddie would let him. Hell, he’d let him eat him alive if that’s what he wanted.

But that’s not what Steve does when he unbuckles the shackles at his feet, rubs soothing thumbs over the irritated skin on his ankles before he bends him in half.

It’s always messy when he fucks him. When he uses a dildo to split him open. Lube is dripping down his crack while Eddie’s hole is stretched almost painfully wide around the base of the silicone toy. So deep inside that he thinks he can feel it in his throat. Every time his torturer pulls it back out, a sobbing breath leaves his lungs like he can’t breathe with it inside him. And every time he pushes back in, Eddie’s body convulses, wrists tugging ineffectively at the restraints keeping him in place.

There is something about the other man’s aura that sends a wave of fear through Eddie, a darkness in his master’s eyes that reflects something like frustration mixed with deeply engraved desire. Like Steve’s greedy for Eddie’s pitiful whimpers. Like seeing Eddie fall apart is as satisfying for him as it is for his willing victim.

It’s almost as if Steve, too, is falling apart. Only a little. Almost unnoticeable.

But Eddie can feel it in the way he pushes the toy inside him, fucks him harder than he ever has before. The merciless hand around his cock is almost too much, too rough, too tight, angry. But when Eddie looks up at him, he finds so much devotion in the other man’s hazel eyes that Eddie nearly loses it.

The words are right there, on the tip of his tongue, waiting to spill.

Want you inside me. Take me. Take all of me. Make me yours.

Thankfully, they never get the chance to fully form when a loud and desperate cry drowns everything else out. Eddie comes hard, feels like he’s falling.

And then everything goes black.

#Sub Eddie Munson #Pro Dom Steve Harrington #sub eddie week #steddie smut #steddie fic #ao3

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amateurasterism · 1 year

Note

Hey do you still take requests? Because i was reading your work and god you are mind-blowing!So I've been thinking about this so long and i couldn't find much on this topic so i thought that maybe Junhui/Jeonghan as dad??!! No cuz seriously that will be soo damn cute! And again your work is amazing!

omg tysm you’re so sweet!! i lovee this request. sorry for the delay ap exams are a pain lmfao

dad headcanons —y.jh + w.jh

yoon jeonghan.

— not a single doubt this man is a girl dad. have you seen him

— his daughter is a carbon copy of him too. together they’re…a nightmare, to say the least

— you are foolish to think you’re safe from yoon jeonghan’s infamous shenanigans after giving birth to his child. in fact, you start to think they’ve escalated now that jeonghan has acquired his best partner in crime

— this tiktok absolutely happened

“oh no.”

after being married to him, you already know it’s bad when jeonghan opens the door with that certain cheeky smile. he’s wearing it now as he greets you home from work, so you ignore his words and brace yourself as you scan the house of which room happened to be the victim this time.

you realize upon seeing your daughter drenched in flour that it was the poor kitchen. the counters and cabinets now a white snowy wonderland, freckled with the all-too familiar shape of your husband and daughter’s hands.

you can’t find anything to say, watching deadpanned as your husband smiles and picks up your daughter, who is smiling at you with the same smile as her dad. she waves her flour-covered hands to try to get you closer.

“yoon jeonghan.”

“our daughter is so clumsy, i wonder what happened,” he jokes, walking towards you to fulfill your daughter’s wishes of smothering you in a hug.

you try to back off before the flour can reach you, but suddenly jeonghan’s hand is twining around your waist and pulling you to his side. in the same moment, your daughter traps you and jeonghan in a hug, drenching you all in flour.

you open your mouth to scold them both, but the words melt and reform as hearty laughter. how could you not, when jeonghan kisses the flour off the tip of your nose and your daughter is bubbling with giggles?

— the type of dad to make tell you not to be worried when your daughter goes to school for the first time but you see damn well how he’s holding in tears as he sits on the couch, eyes focused on the painfully lonely toys on the living room rug and the irking silence of the house. all he can think about is how incomplete he feels without his daughter, his ray of light, beside him

— never outwardly mentions it but he has every trait your daughter inherited from you memorized

“babe, i can’t find our daughter. there are so many kids!”

your husband spares you a quick glance in which you catch that all-knowing smirk plastered on his lips. “she’s right there.” he waves to a girl in the sea of children, and sure enough your daughter comes running into his arms.

“how did you see her so easily?”

“easy. she has the same mole on her temple and tilts her head when she’s lost, like you.”

— sometimes too lazy to get up from bed so on weekends you’ll find him and your baby still passed out in bed in the middle of the day. jeonghan’s limbs are scrambled in the sheets in outrageous angles, your daughter is sprawled similarly over his stomach, pacifier abandoned and allowing drool to touch jeonghan’s shirt. the window allows their bodies to bask in pure sunlight, matching the innocent smiles on their slumbering faces, their identical snores synced and echoing through the house.

— the moment your daughter made her first sound, jeonghan was all over her spamming the word “daddy.” made it a competition between you and him on if she would say “mommy” or “daddy” first and betted on the loser having to pay for a fancy dinner date even though he ended up paying regardless of the winner because he’s a simp duh. he was so determined to win to the point you were wishing she would say “daddy” already before you would go insane you swear the word was even echoing in your sleep

“da-ddy. da-ddy.” jeonghan repeats to your daughter, only to be met with her clueless stare, not a single thought behind those widened eyes.

“like me. da-ddy.”

“da…” your daughter trails off, more focused on her toys than her father’s antics.

“yes! da-ddy.”

“love, please shut up,” you mutter from the couch irritatedly. at first it was cute, but you’re starting to go crazy after hearing it for an hour straight.

“i’m about to make her say daddy!”

you roll your eyes in annoyance, though your lips betray you with the way they turn upwards in a smile at the sight of your husband sat cross-legged beside your toddler, staring at her with the most loving look as they play.

“daddy!” your daughter exclaims suddenly.

jeonghan cheers and tosses her in his arms, holding her high up and peppering kisses on her face. “yes!” he turns to your smiling face, “i win!”

but with the look on jeonghan’s face, you can’t find yourself to be mad about the bet at all.

“say it again!”

— feeds her a bit of junk food when you can’t see

— secretly overprotective. on the outside, he’s a pretty laid back dad but the moment he senses something off with his daughter, it’s over

— the type of dad to say “no boyfriends until you’re 20” HAHAH but doesn’t really mean it

— overall such a playful, laid back, caring dad who causes more mischief with his child than you signed up for. but really, you couldn’t ask for anything more

wen junhui.

— boy dad. case closed

— no bc he’d be such a sweet dad are you kidding

— i feel like he’d try making homemade baby-food when he doesn’t have any thing else to do

what is that smell? is the first thing you think when opening the door of your house after work.

your nose leads you straight to the kitchen, and low and behold is jun, surrounded by various chopped vegetables and stirring a small boiling pot.

“what’s this new recipe?” you ask, sliding your arms through his and leaning your head into the crook of his neck.

“oh! hi, love! you scared me,” he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your head and pausing his stirring for a moment to rub your arms. “it’s homemade baby food. i thought i’d try it for fun.”

you smile into his skin and press a few chaste kisses there. “i remember you cooking a meal for me the first time i came over. it was one you made yourself and you were really proud of it so i never told you i thought it was too spicy.”

jun’s ears flush red. “stop trying to make me feel bad by reminding me!”

you laugh tenderly and kiss his lips. “would never. you know i love your cooking, and i’m sure our son will too.”

— really good at keeping a happy expression on for your son but inside is a whole other story. inside, he’s flooding with tears because his son is already walking through the gates of preschool when he swears just the other day he was glued to you and your son on the living room couch mere days after coming home from the hospital

— he’s always gotten you “just because” flowers so now what you have a son, he’ll come home from father-son days with a bouquet they both picked out

— always up to do whatever his son wants to do no matter what. finger painting? the paint is ready to go

— lovesss playing/teaching his son old games from his childhood. sometimes you’ll come home to see them in the backyard, running back and forth in a game of red light green light, jun’s favorite

“i’m home!” you shout upon opening the front door, expecting you son to come running into your arms with jun wrapping you all in a family hug as usual, but no response.

you presumed they were playing a hide-and-seek game with you, yet even after searching the whole house, they’re still missing. odd.

the one last place you haven’t checked if the backyard. sure enough, there is your husband, eyes shut and faded away from your son who is currently frozen in mid-run.

“red light!” jun turns around, expecting to catch his son moving, but instead is met by your face inches from his. “welcome home, love—”

interrupting, you kiss his lips which are parted from surprise. when you pull away, jun finds himself a bit carried away from the game, only remembering when your son pulls his attention back from the taste of your mixed berry chapstick.

“ewwww!! mommy and daddy are kissing!” the child yells in disgust, running away and forgetting his role of staying still in the game.

jun presses another slow kiss to your lips before chasing his son into a tackle on the living room carpet. “hey! come back! you moved while i turned around, you lost!”

�� there’s a painting of the first park you went to as a family in the living room that jun painted with the help of your son (meaning it has a couple smears from his tiny fingers trying to help his dad out)

— often you’ll wake up in the morning without jun’s body beside yours, only to find him knocked out, cuddled beside your son in his bed with an abandoned book he’d been reading to him last night

— you know those random games toddlers have downloaded on their ipads? yeah, jun is addicted to those

“dinner’s ready!”

“we’ll be there!” jun replies from the living room, followed by the sounds of frantic tapping on a screen.

“daddy, you suck at this game!” his son laughs heartily, watching him struggle to beat the current level of this game.

jun ignores the rude comment and watches as his character falls again. his son grabs the ipad and finishes it with ease only to look back up at his gaping dad.

“how did you do that so easily?! you’re only four!” jun teases, attacking his son in tickles. just before he can reach his most ticklish spot, your voice is heard from the kitchen.

“i said dinner was ready five minutes ago! the food is cold!”

“coming!”

— tries to help your son with homework but is struggling just as bad. you’ve scolded them multiple times for finding disregarded math papers on the dining table and them watching tv on the couch

— he is constantly carrying her. everywhere. especially piggy-back rides, those are their favorite

— overall the sweetest dad ever, does everything he can to be the best dad and the work shows. junhui best man ever

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thosehallowedhalls · 1 month

Text

Home

Book: Crimes of Passion

Pairing: M!Trystan Thorne x Emma Rose (F!MC)

Rating: Teen

Word count: 1138

Summary: Five times Trystan asked Emma to move in with him and the one time she said yes.

A/N: Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge, rainbow prompts + National Take a Walk in the Park day (both in the fourth vignette).

One

“No offense, but old New York apartments are a menace,” Trystan says, opening his door wider to let Emma in.

“I’ve lost half my plays,” she complains as she drops her overnight bag on the floor. “My Folio editions were spared, but my collection of second-hand Penguins is a soggy wreck.”

“Not to be insensitive to your predicament, but I’m more worried about other things.”

“Like my furniture?”

“That, and the fact that your apartment flooding means the probability of mold in the very near future.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I’m not looking forward to a mold infection.” She pinches the bridge of her nose. “Can I stay with you for a few days?”

“I hoped that went without saying.”

“Thanks.” She looks around. “I don’t think I’ve ever spent more than a couple nights in a row here. It’ll be a little weird staying longer than that.”

“Maybe we should see it as a sign.”

“Of what?”

“That you should move in here.”

She snorts. “Yeah, let’s ask Ruby and Luke while we’re at it. Make a commune out of it.”

He could tell her he wasn’t kidding, but if that’s her reaction to what she thinks is a joke, she definitely isn’t ready. So he files it away for now.

“Come on, I’ll make you dinner.”

She sighs. “I really love you.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Two

He tries again a month later. They’re lying in bed on a Sunday morning, lazing about and enjoying a rare day off. Tracing a hand down her side, relishing the warmth of her skin, he doesn’t even think before the words are out of his mouth. “Move in with me.”

She goes completely still. “Here?”

“Yes? We can look for someplace else if you want, but I've always thought you liked my apartment.”

“I do, it’s just…” She seems to be searching for the right words. “We’ve only been together for three months.”

“And in that time, we took down three killers, an extortion ring masquerading as a cult, the Russian mob, and a jewel thief. Besides, if spending a month with my family didn’t send you running for the hills, nothing will. Move in with me.”

“Trystan…”

“That’s a no tone if I ever heard one.”

“It’s been three months,” she says again. “It’s too soon.”

“Very well. We can revisit the topic later.” He pulls her on top of him. “In the meantime, I have a few ideas about how to spend today.”

She smiles against his lips. “I’m all ears.”

Three

They’ve just stumbled into his apartment, both bleeding from various scrapes and cuts, and bruising already forming on their bodies.

Never again, Trystan swears, will they go after a pair of knife-wielding accidental kidnappers amped up on methamphetamine.

“Ugh.” She winces when she places a hand on her stomach. “Why couldn’t this happen closer to my apartment? I have an actual first aid kit there, not the pitiful thing you think passes for one.”

“You could keep your first aid kit here. You know, if you lived here.”

Emma groans. “You’re seriously bringing up moving in together now?”

“Why not? I love you. Do you love me?”

Even when aching from half a dozen different body parts, she can’t resist teasing him. “Well…”

He waves this off. “You love me. So why not move in with me? I’ve got a better coffee machine and wi-fi connection anyway.”

“Can’t argue with that one. But it is, I am forced to repeat, much too soon.”

He shrugs. “As you wish. Pass me those bandages, will you?”

Four

They’re walking down Central Park, both holding a cup of coffee and enjoying the balmy spring breeze. A motley of flowers explodes around them, a vibrant jumble of colors and scents. Trystan takes a deep breath. “God, I love this time of year.”

“Yeah, it’s hard to beat New York in the spring.”

He laces his fingers with hers. “Or this particular spot in the city. This is your favorite coffee shop, isn’t it?”

“One of them.”

“It’s only a couple of blocks from my apartment.”

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, here we go.”

“You’re practically living there already,” he points out.

“I keep a toothbrush and a set of workout clothes there. Not quite the same thing.”

“Semantics. If your things live with me, why can’t you?”

“I don’t think you understand what you’re asking. I’d be there all the time.”

“Yes, I believe that goes without saying.”

“Most couples that live together don’t also work together. We’d be on top of each other nonstop.”

“Can’t say I’d mind that,” he says with a grin, then laughs when she gives him a light shove. “Fine. I’ll ask again next month.”

Five

“So when are you two taking the plunge?” Luke asks.

They’ve just left Mafalda’s house after dinner, a dinner where he and Ruby announced that they’re moving in together. Appalled, she turns to him. “Luke! Rude!”

“Oh, today isn’t about us.” Emma chimes in. “I’d rather talk about when you’re going to ask Ruby to marry you.”

When he flushes bright red, she smirks. “That’s what I thought.”

Once they’re in his car, Trystan turns to her. “You know, Luke makes an excellent point. When are we taking the plunge?”

She gives him a sideways glance. “Of course you’re going to jump on that. I’m almost surprised you didn’t say anything back there.”

“I would never.” Taken aback that she’d think otherwise, he cuts her a look. “First of all, that was their moment. And second, using others to convince you falls outside the bounds of fair play.”

“I know.” Her voice has gone a lot softer. “I’m just teasing.”

“Besides,” he adds. “I wasn’t particularly eager to hear you say no in front of all our friends.”

She gives him an odd look. “And you’re sure I would have said no, huh?”

“Evidence points to yes.”

“Hmm.” But she doesn’t say anything else afterwards.

Six

Emma stretches from her spot on the couch after the longest workday in recent memory. “God, I hate paperwork days. I’m too tired to move. Okay if I stay over tonight?”

“Sure. Or you could just move in already,” Trystan says, reaching for the remote.

“Okay.”

His hand freezes in mid-air. “Sorry, what?”

“I’ll move in.”

He blinks. “You’ll move in. With me?”

“Unless you’re planning to move out, yeah.” At his blank look, she seems to shrink a little. “But hey, if you’ve changed your mind…”

A slow smile spreads over his face. “Oh, not even close. Took you long enough.”

“From where I’m standing, it took me just long enough.”

“You would find a way to argue about this.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“Not remotely.” He tugs her into his arms and presses a lingering kiss to her forehead. “Welcome home, Emma.”

#trystan x emma #trystan x mc #trystan thorne #emma rose #crimes of passion #playchoices

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autisticlancemcclain · 1 year

Text

prev chapter

———

Seven in the morning on September 8th, the mourning doves gently cooing as the sun rises, the walk to the minivan is as silent as a graveyard.

“C’mon, guys,” Luis tries, but not that hard. “Let’s try for a good year, okay?”

To her credit, Veronica does her best to muster up a smile. Marco manages a nod.

Rachel does nothing. She hasn’t so much as spoken a word since the accident.

The half-hour drive to where everyone needs to do is completely silent. Luis tries initially to put on the radio, but he hears Marco’s sharp inhale when he averts his eyes from the road to change the station and stops immediately.

It’s been three months since Mamá and Papá passed. Sometimes Luis feels like none of them are ever going to be okay again.

Rachel and Marco are dropped off first.

“Remember to check in with your guidance counsellors,” Veronica says. “Luis and I talked to them last week. They’re aware of the…situation.”

Not that it did much. They’d made an appointment to talk to the school administration as soon as the high school opened, just before classes started, but they’d made it to the office and neither of them knew what to say. ‘Hey, there’s a very good chance that both of these kids are going to have extreme drops in performance or even fail because they both just lost their parents in one night?’ No, of course not. ‘Please be aware that Rachel has regular panic attacks at the sounds of car horns and brakes squealing, and that Marco sometimes just gets up and leaves and you don’t hear from him again for hours?’ Probably, but still. How the hell were they even supposed to breach the subject? Luis and Veronica aren’t fucking guardians. They’re barely even legal adults. Hell, neither of them can fucking drink, yet!

But there was no one else to do it. So they mumbled their way through an explanation — parents dead, kids traumatized, go easy — and high-tailed it the hell out of there. Both of them have been hanging up the phone whenever the school calls.

“Love you guys,” Luis says as they wrench open the side door and hop out of the van, slinging their backpacks on behind them. Veronica repeats the sentiment. Marco mumbles something in return, Rachel says nothing, and then they’re both off.

Before they can fade completely out of sight, Veronica calls Marco’s name.

“Watch out for your sister.”

Marco hesitates for a moment, eyes shining like broken glass, and then he nods. He turns back around without another word and disappears into the crowded mass of teenagers.

“We knew today was going to be rough,” Luis mutters, starting the car and carefully navigating out of the parking lot. “We expected this. That’s what all the parenting books said.”

Veronica’s silent for a long moment.

“Doesn’t make it any easier.”

It takes them a little farther to get where Veronica needs to go. Her apprenticeship is entirely dependant on whether or not she can find a welder willing to take her on — it’s 2003, for fuck’s sake, it shouldn’t be that hard, but some people suck. Some people will be completely incapable of seeing her as valuable as she is, and they won’t even bother. It’s a shit reality, and frustrating as hell, but it’s their best bet for money in the long run. Veronica’s always been good with her hands, and with Luis already eating up funds in tuition and God knows how much savings they have left with Mamá and Papá gone, Veronica working as she’s learning is their best bet. The trades pay well, too, and they’ve got three more kids to save up for.

Luis swallows the lump in his throat. Marco has always wanted to go to Juliard.

How the fuck are they gonna afford that?

“Drop me off here,” Veronica says, pointing at a shop just down the road. Luis slows to a stop in front of it, peering through the windshield.

“…That place?” he asks skeptically. “You sure?”

If it weren’t for the two people arguing just inside the garage doors, Luis would assume the shop is abandoned. The sign’s paint is so faded and scuffed up that it’s impossible to read, and several windows are boarded up. The walls are more graffiti than brick.

“I looked it up online,” Veronica explains. “They don’t have a website, but I found a couple blogs mentioning it. Apparently it’s the most competent shop in town, and it’s run by a woman.” She shoots him a small smile, grabbing her bag and opening the passenger door. “I’ll be fine, you big loser. Or have you forgotten that I’ve kicked your ass in every fight we’ve ever had?”

Luis snorts. He has not forgotten. He’s pretty sure he has minor brain damage from the time Veronica slammed his head into a side table when they were fighting over a girl in middle school (who didn’t like either of them, go figure).

“Believe me, asshole. I didn’t forget. Keep your cell on, though, okay? Call me if things get weird. I’ll be here, you know I will.”

She smiles at him again, and seeing some genuine happiness and excitement bleed into her expression for the first time in months is more relieving than Luis has the words for.

“I will, Luis. Now get lost. You’re gonna be late for class.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He waits until she’s inside the shop and talking to who he assumes is the owner before carefully peeling off, mindful of the early morning traffic around him. Once he’s well on his way and a little more comfortable behind the wheel, he adjusts his rearview mirror slightly to see the baby seat strapped tightly in the back.

“You and me, now, huh, Lance?”

Lance grins at him around the thumb he’s got stuffed in his mouth, babbling happily.

“Yeah, that’s right, buddy. You’re going to be the first college-educated baby, because we sure as shit cannot afford daycare.” He grimaces. “Sorry. I shouldn’t say shit around you. The parenting books say you pick up on bad language and are more likely to be using it when you’re older.”

Lance does not seem to be too terribly offended, continuing to stare back at Luis through the mirror, brown eyes big and wide and knowing.

The parenting books say that he will have just barely gained a sense of self and awareness in July — 7 months — but Lance has always appeared so knowing. He’s ten months old, now, and sometimes Luis is convinced he already knows how to speak in full sentences and just doesn’t feel like it.

Babies grow at their own rate, Mamá had said years ago, when Luis asked why Rachel wasn’t walking yet. She’ll get there, mijo. Don’t worry your pretty head about all those milestones your textbooks tell you about.

It hurts to remember her words. Even now, months after the accident, thinking of his parents makes something like bile rise up in his throat.

But he’s never known anyone wiser than his mother. And certainly no parents better than his own, so he might as well get used to thinking about them.

He pulls into the first available parking spot he sees, in what has to be a fifteen minute walk at least to the main buildings on campus.

Oh, well.

He turns off the car, running through the checklist in his head — windows up, lights off, no check engine light, keys in pocket, seatbelt off — before getting out and opening the back door.

“Alright, Lancey-pants. You ready to come sit through Calculus III with me? Huh? Yeah, I bet you are, you little nerd. Let’s go.”

Lance’s carseat is big and clunky and heavy most of all, and combined with the diaper bag and his own backpack he feels like a fucking packhorse. He feels like a freak, too, with all the stares and giggles from other students he walks by.

He swallows, ignoring the burning of his cheeks, and walks on.

He just barely makes it to his class on time, sliding into one of the only available seats just as the lecturer starts speaking. He keeps Lance strapped in his carseat, rocking him gently with his foot as he takes out his notepad. He prays that Lance falls asleep so that he can get through the next couple hours without incident.

“…and hopefully you’ve all read the first chapter of your textbooks, and we can dive right in…”

———

They almost make it.

They get so close.

For the first two hours of the lecture, everything is fine. Luis is paying as much attention as he can, scrawling down notes to keep up with his rapidly-speaking professor. Every so often someone shoots him a dirty look when Lance says something in baby-talk, but they can fuck right off. Lance is being an angel, by baby standards. He’s almost completely silent, brown eyes wide as he observes the world around him, vastly different from the home he’s been confined to for the entirety of the summer. Any sound from him is no louder than the occasional whisper of any confused students. He’s fine.

And then the sniffling starts.

Luis isn’t quite sure what sets him off. He made sure to feed him just before they left, so he shouldn’t need anything else for another two hours. He’s obviously not sleepy. It might be a diaper thing, but Luis doubts it. He took care of that before he left, too.

Regardless, Lance begins to sniffle, and then he begins to cry, and no amount of desperate shushing and cooing from Luis does anything before Lance truly begins to wail.

Like a scene from a nightmare, the professor stops what she’s doing. Every eye in the classroom turns to him.

“Is everything all right?” the professor asks.

“Fine,” Luis chokes out. He doesn’t even take the time to gather up his bag, he just scoops Lance from his seat and flees as quickly as he can. Hopefully he can come back for his stuff when the lecture ends.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Luis soothes, gently bouncing an inconsolable Lance as he walks the campus grounds. Numerous people give him nasty or pitying looks as they walk by, but Luis ignores them. They’re not his concern right now. “What’s wrong, huh? You miss your parents? Me too, sweetheart. Fuck.”

Lance gets like this, sometimes. He just cries and cries, like his heart is breaking. Veronica thinks his heart is a little broken, and he needs time to heal, like the rest of them.

“It’s okay, Lancito. Let it out. Let it out.”

By the time he sees his class file out of the lecture hall, Lance has finally calmed down to hiccups and sniffles.

“Let’s go get our stuff, yeah?”

Luis tries to slip back inside as inconspicuously as possible, making a beeline for his seat and is relieved to find his stuff untouched. Thank God.

Lance protests when he tries to rebuckle him in the carseat, so he just dumps all his books into the seat and holds Lance instead. It’s fine. If Lance wants to be held, he can hold him. It’s the first day of classes, after all, so he probably won’t miss too much, note-wise —

“Excuse me, young man.”

Luis startles at the voice, whipping around to face whoever’s approaching. His professor stands a few feet away from him, straight-backed and tall, orange saree almost reaching the ground. Luis turns to face her, setting down the carseat and holding out one hand.

“I’m so sorry for interrupting the lecture earlier, Professor. I’m Luis Sanchez.”

“Sarah Lee,” she says. “And no need to apologize.” She smiles kindly, letting go of Luis’ hand and extending hers out to Lance. “And you, little one? What’s your name.”

Lance giggles. He doesn’t remove his hand from his mouth — thankfully — but leans forward to bat his head gently against her hand.

“This is Lance.” Luis pokes him in the stomach, making him giggle again. “He’s noisy. I wouldn’t usually bring him to class, I swear, but I had no other option and I already paid tuition —”

“Walk with me,” Professor Lee interrupts, and then she’s out the lecture hall without so much as a glance behind her. Luis frantically throws the rest of his stuff into the carseat and scrambles to follow her. She doesn’t speak again until they reach the campus gardens — the projects of fourth year environmental science students.

“You’re nineteen, yes? Twenty?”

“Twenty,” Luis affirms.

She hums. “Thirty years ago, I was in your exact situation.” She leans forward and plucks a sprig of mint from the garden, holding it towards Lance. “Good for digestion,” she explains, at Luis’ wary look. “And soothing the mind.” Luis nods once, and she hands it to Lance, who immediately shoves it in his mouth. He makes a face initially, but seems to decide that he likes it, gnawing on it slowly.

“You were in my situation?” Luis prompts. This is…not what he expected, but he’s so lost and the professor is speaking so kindly that Luis is willing to take any helping hand, at this point. Plus, Lance seems to like her, so.

“Yes,” she continues. “Twenty years old, freshly married with a newborn baby, desperately trying to get my degree so I didn’t throw away everything my mother sacrificed to get me where I was. Not an easy task.”

“Oh.” Luis feels horrible for misleading her. “Lance isn’t…he’s not mine. He’s my brother. My parents —” his voice cracks — “my parents passed, early this summer. I have no one else to watch him. My other siblings can’t take him right now and it’s not ideal, but I figured university has other adults, you know? People will be mature about it. I just — I dunno. It’s — I’m sorry if I implied our situations were the same. I can’t imagine what you had to go through.”

“Luis,” she says gently. She stops, facing him fully. “I am so, so sorry for your loss.” She considers him carefully. “You are carrying a lot on your shoulders right now, child. You don’t need to carry unwarranted guilt, as well. True, our situations are not identical, but they are very similar, no?“

“I guess,” Luis says weakly.

“I’m trying to offer my help, child,” Professor Lee says, reaching out and squeezing his hands. “Just like I was helped when I needed it. Accept it.”

Luis shudders, then nods. This is almost too good to be true, and he’s in no place to refute it. He’s not sure exactly what she’s offering, but anything is better than dragging poor Lance to class every day and hoping for the best.

“Good. Now, thankfully there are much better systems in place now than there were in the seventies. Did you know the university offers on-campus childcare for reduced rates, to help train the student educators? Come. Let me show you where to sign up.”

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shadowbriar · 2 years

Note

could you do some writings for cedric please ;(

Series of Pleasant Firsts - Cedric Diggory

Pairing : (F/M) || Cedric Diggory x Reader Word Count : 3k Warning : None. Notes : When the walls between love and friendship starts to crumble, will any of them be brave enough to take the leap of faith and tear it to shambles? Idk how to describe this story. It’s just fluff. Thank you for requesting!

She watches as he tries to break his own record at stone skipping with a wide smile. He’s always been so gifted with outdoor activities. Both muggle and wizard sports, he seems to be a master of it. How his cheeks are always tinted with rose colour from the burn of the sun, his skin gleaming from the sheer layer of sweat. Cedric Diggory is a one beautiful boy, indeed.

She misses this. Spending quality time with him, just the two of them. Having separate houses in Hogwarts were starting to create distance between them. It didn’t help either that the friends they made with were not of the same circle. Him with his popular little Miss and Mister Perfect friends while she finds comfort with the more quiet and reserved flock.

“Come and take a dip with me.” Cedric says with a smile, panting as he takes his top off.

“No.” She says short, looking back to her book “I’d rather stay in the dry area, thank you very much.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve even got your swimsuit on, it’d be a shame to not test it in the water.”

She didn’t budge, glueing her eyes to the pages.

“I promise your book will still be here once we’re done.” Cedric says, taking her book away gently as he tosses it to the picnic basket “Besides, you kind of owe it to this lake. Remember how we would always go here every other weekend? It’s been ages since, so you have to take a dip.”

He didn’t let her have another minute of thoughts as he pulled her by the waist, practically dragging her to the body water. Her scream echoes as he throws her in, soaking her entire body with the cold water. She wanted to be angry at him for not giving her the chance to take her cardigan off but it’s hard to stay mad at him. Especially when his eyes glisten as he chortles like this.

Their smiles bloom even wider as she begins to splash water on him. They playfully drown each other until he admits defeat, evidently letting her win just to please her. Now they’re standing close in front of another with smiles still tucks on their lips, making the most of time to study each other’s features.

A lot has changed in him. Cedric was always a beautiful boy and yet somehow he’s grown even more beautiful as if it was ever possible. His jawline is more defined, cheeks more hollow as he lost his baby fat. It was as if his face was sculpted by a Greek God and Goddesses themselves.

“You’re staring.” He says, biting down a smile.

“So do you.”

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?”

She blushes.

“Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

And there it is. Any guy. Not I would be lucky to have you.

It’s frustrating at times how gentle and tender Cedric’s gesture could lead her on. There are more than a handful occasions where she could have sworn that he sees her more than a best friend. The way he treats her has changed to how he did when they were still children. To admit embarrassedly, she feels like Cedric is treating her like a lady instead of a mere friend.

A lady he wishes to win their heart.

“Let’s not talk about boys, shall we. I have just enough girlfriends chirping in my ears about them at school.” She says with rolled eyes, walking to the edge of the lake “I’d have my head if you too decide to lecture me about them.”

Cedric smiles, amused as he swims further to the middle “Why, what do your friends talk to you about?”

“You know, how everyone is apparently dating everybody else. How they’ve got their first kisses already and how pleasant a date in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop is. All those sappy things I’m sure your friends are also on about.”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” He chuckles lightly “I’m sure they’re not half as bad as you moan them to be.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re always swarmed with beautiful perfect girls who are willing to drop their knickers down for you anytime around the clock. I, on the other hand, am not so lucky with a romantic life.”

“Come on, that’s hardly ever true. I’ve heard a lot of my guy friends talk about you.”

“Well the next time you hear any of them talk about me, do send them my way. I’m tired of waiting for some guy to finally ask me on a date.” She groans, feeling pathetic on herself “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”

Cedric raises his brows, “You haven’t had your first kiss?”

“Nope.” She shakes her head, getting off of the lake “Pathetic am I not?”

She walks to their picnic spot, placing her wet cardigan on a tree close by so it could dry. She dries herself with a towel, brows slightly furrows at the sight of Cedric coming out of the lake too. He’s usually not out until the sun’s down.

“I have an idea.” He says, looking quite unsure of himself “But you have to promise me you wouldn’t kill me and throw my body to the lake.”

She raises an eyebrow, “How do you mean?”

“To tell you the truth, I haven’t had my first kiss yet either.” Cedric admits, cheeks looking rosy at the confession “I’ve only lied to my friends so they would get off of my back.”

“Who did you tell them you had your first kiss with?”

“You.”

She went mute.

The flush on her cheeks are probably more crimson than his now. His eyes were still glued on her, intently examining her reaction. For the first time in her life, she’s seen Cedric being this flustered.

“So seeing that we have a common problem and how I had dragged your name into my lie, I was thinking.. Maybe we could just.. You know, have this over with?”

She blinks rapidly, trying to process his words. He’s still standing there, unnerved. His eyes were still anticipating an answer, fingers fidgeting as he waited patiently for a sign.

She asks hesitantly, “You want to.. Kiss me?”

“Only if you’re fine with it.”

She silently pinch herself, trying to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming. Cedric Diggory is really asking her for a kiss. Though his reasoning is plainly based as a friendly favour, she still finds it hard to accept the fact that he wanted to kiss her.

“Alright.”

He grins, sighing in relief, “Brilliant.”

“So how would we do this?”

“I- I don’t know.” He admits, sounding unsure himself “I mean, we’d just.. You know, kiss.”

“Okay. Of course. Right.” She nods timidly, trying to maintain her composure “Should I keep my eyes open? Or would you find it more comfortable if I close them?”

“Open them, please.” He says softly as he takes a step closer, placing her hand on her jawline “I’d like to see your eyes.”

She nods.

It’s getting harder for her to stay relaxed. With every inch he’s closing in, she finds her body to be more rigid, afraid that one wrong movement would make him pull away and change his mind. She wanted this, Godric knows how badly she’s prayed for this. She could only hope that he wouldn’t hear how loud her heart is thumping right now.

“I’m going in, okay?”

She could only reply with a nod.

She closes her eyes as his warm breathing meets her face. Within seconds she could feel Cedric’s soft lips touching hers, gently brushing over each other. She could feel the electricity jolting through her body with every peck. For a first kiss, he surely knows his way around.

“Wow.” He breathed as he pulled away, eyes still closed as if he tried to cling onto the feelings longer “We should’ve done that sooner.”

“Shut up.”

She shoves his shoulder playfully, trying to hide her tomato face.

The kiss would certainly haunt her mind for days, if not months from now.

“So, uh, we’re still friends, right?” Cedric asks, rubbing his nape “I mean, the kiss.. It didn’t change our friendship anyhow, right?”

She bites down the heartbreak, nodding and smiling instead, “Of course.”

“Brilliant.”

Again, she could have sworn she saw the disappointment reflecting on his eyes. As if he was feeling the very same bitterness she’s feeling right now. But as he said it himself, the kiss changes nothing. They’re still friends. Just like they’ve always been.

Just friends.

____

The Hufflepuff boy runs to her, a smile plastered on his face. It seems like he’s been searching for her around the castle with how many beads of sweat trailing his face. His face was slightly red, panting as he tried to control his breathing.

“Hello, there Champion.” She teases, fixing his shawl that was slightly misaligned from all the running “Fancy seeing you here.”

“I’ve been looking for you.” He says in between his pants “You would not believe what has just happened.”

Her brows furrow, intrigued at what he’s saying, “What, what happened?”

“I’ve asked Cho Chang to be my date for the Yule Ball and she said yes!”

The smile on her face starts to dissipate. Her eyes were starting to look blank as she let the words sink in. He’s asked another to be his date. How foolish of her to have expected him to ask her instead.

“That’s brilliant, Ced.” She says with fake excitement, smiling though it could not reach her eyes “I’m very happy for you.”

“Thanks.” He nods, looking proud of himself “I have to be honest with you, I was worried she would’ve said no because I heard Potter was planning to escort her too. Thank Merlin she chose me instead.”

She nods, still forcing a smile, “Good for you, Ced.”

The rest of his words went in and out of her ear with no remark. Only becoming a background noise she tries so hard to quiet down, feeling suffocated at its ringing. Though he’s always been surrounded with girls, there has never been one Cedric was evidently interested in. Everyone just comes and goes, becoming one of the many names mentioned in his stories.

She’s always known that one day or another she would have to face the day when he would find a girl and have his world gravitate towards her. Leaving her alone as a lost satellite. No matter how much she wanted him to know that he is her sun, she knows that in his universe, she was just another passing star.

“So, uh, how about you? You’re going with McLaggen, so I’ve heard.” Cedric says, bursting her bubble back to reality “I didn’t know you two are close.”

“No, no we’re not.” She says flatly, not looking at him “He’d asked me but I haven’t said yes. I was waiting for someone else but I supposed I’ve hanged McLaggen for too long, I should give his answer now.”

“Wait, you were waiting for someone else?” Cedric asked, stopping their pace “Who?”

“It doesn’t matter, Ced.”

The sparkle on his eyes dulls down as the puzzle clicks, “You were waiting for me, weren’t you?”

“Just forget it. It’s not like we owe each other anything.” She says harshly, her tone coming out a little bit more rude than she intended “Besides, not everything has to be shared with a friend.”

Cedric’s eyebrows rose, looking offended, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m just saying,” She turns to see him, hands balled into a fist as she tries to control her disappointment that is now transforming into anger “We should stop gatekeeping each other's feelings because it’s getting toxic.”

Cedric was appalled. He doesn’t understand where all her anger was coming from. If anything, he should be the one to be angry at her. She was the one who’s gotten a date first before him. He should be the one saying all these hurtful truths.

“Consider said feelings gone. From now on we don’t know each other.”

She nods, holding in the tears threatening from her eyes, “Done.”

____

Ever since their fallout about their Yule Ball date, neither of the two has exchanged a word to another. Still, that does not mean he doesn’t get her full support through his tasks. Her worry was growing deeper and deeper with each task passed. Though Cedric won first place on the second task, knowing how Harry barely got out of the water in time was enough of a nightmare for her to live with.

Screw their argument, she thought. She’d rather have him break her heart daily than to live with the thought of him away, not knowing if he was safe or not. If she has to live the rest of her life with him being oblivious of her feelings then so be it. Any of that would be better than not being able to comfort him when he’s in trouble.

And so she finds herself struggling to meet Cedric. She squeezed herself into the crowd of Champions and their supporters but the blond boy was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps he’s gone elsewhere right after the second task score announcement was made. Helped Cho to get warm or something.

But just before her heart turns desperate, she hears her name being called.

She could recognise his voice anywhere, anytime. Before she could call him back, Cedric has already wrapped his arms around her, engulfing her in a big wet hug as he pulls her close. Her body heat is his only source of warmth, gritting his teeth in coldness as he rests his head on the crook of her neck.

“I was so worried they’d taken you to the lake.” He says, frantically examining her face “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about!”

“Merlin.” Cedric sighs in relief, pulling her back close to his chest “They’re trying to get me killed, for real. If not from the tasks then from a heart attack, I swear it.”

“Don’t say things like that.” She protested, feeling scared of the thought “You know I hate it.”

Cedric couldn’t find a word to utter. Instead he just chuckles lightly, tightening his embrace on her. Helga knows how much he misses having her in his arms. He peppers her forehead with kisses, trying to ease both of their worries away.

She didn’t know what happened but the waves of emotions made her cry. The worry, the stress, and frustration of not being able to be there with him has driven her crazy. Now that he’s here, giving her the very embrace she’s longed for, she couldn’t help but to shed a tear or two.

“Hey, listen,” Cedric says, breaking the hug as cups her face, gazing on her eyes deeply “I know that things haven’t been pretty lately and I know I have the bigger part at fault in that, but I really can’t spend another day without you anymore. If you want to hate me, then hate me but hate me close so I can still see and touch you.”

“Ced-”

“No, I’m not done.” He cuts fast, still frantic from the jolt of adrenaline “I know we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember but I’m willing to burn that bridge and build another one with you. I don’t want us to be just friends anymore. I want you to continue being my first. My first friend, my first kiss, my first heartbreak, everything.”

She cries, nodding to his words.

“And if you’d have me, I’d try my best to be your very last. I know we’re still young but being there in the lake- Screw it.”

Spending no other second, he finally seals their lips. The very same feelings they felt years ago when they shared their first kiss by the lake washes over them. In fact, this time the feelings were magnified. Their despair and crave for one another has certainly enhanced their hunger.

She finds herself melting under his touch. Cedric’s kiss was more demanding than she last remembered them. This time he kisses her with greed, trying to make sure that she knows just how aching he is without her. He wanted her to know that she is the only remedy to his thirst.

“Wait,” She says as she breaks the kiss, earning a confused and disappointed look from him “What about Cho?”

“She understands.”

Cedric paid no mind to his words before continuing the kiss. He has certainly found something new he hates most in this entire universe- being interrupted as they kiss.

“Wait, Ced.”

Cedric lets out a huff of exasperation, “What? What is it this time?”

“Mr. Diggory.” An authoritarian voice calls from behind. Cedric has to bite the embarrassment down when he turns to see Professor McGonnagal eyeing them two with her strict eyes “You are expected at the Headmaster’s room along with the other Champions. I’m sure the two of you can continue your business later.”

Cedric nods, pursing his lips in embarrassment, “Yes, Professor.”

Professor McGonnagal gives one last nod before turning her heels to go into the castle.

She has to bite down her laughter as Cedric turns back to see her. Her cheeks were pink, embarrassed yet feeling blissful at the same time.

“I have to go now.” Cedric says softly, smiling yet looking like he wanted to stay “I’ll find you once I’m done.”

She nods, grinning, “Alright.”

“I’ll come back to that.” He says as he plants a chaste kiss to her lips “And that.”

“Just go.” She says with a giggle, smiling in between his kisses.

Cedric smiles, pulling her into another kiss before finally walking away.

She watches as his figure slowly drifts away. Her heart is still swelling from the new reality she’s trying so hard to comprehend. She bites her lower lip, trying to prevent herself from grinning like a lunatic. From then on, she knows that whatever first she has to do, she’s sure that they would only be a series of pleasant firsts with him.

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