#I need a small table and maybe a small shelf

[obstinaterixatrix]

was thinking of getting a room divider because I don’t like using filters/digital backgrounds for calls (don’t trust like that) and with how I’ve rearranged my bookshelf dresser my future framed print of my ocs is in danger of being visible but I think that’s just an excuse to buy more things and I gotta Stop It. also I can just move the frame somewhere else. I have to keep the config like this tho because it’s a great place to put my lamp

[munch-mumbles]

it is taking so much mental fortitude not to go to bed and sleep holding kitty. i want to so bade . but i dont want to damage her furrrr............................................

[angelusteal]

this is the wall

[iiping]

kaveh snapping at alhaitham for buying another ugly wood carving… except he forgot it was his birthday 👀

read my short fic on twitter here or see more below! 🫶

—

“This looks absolutely nothing like me!” Kaveh snaps at the rough-out Aranara carving that suddenly shows up one morning, looking so blonde and angry.

Alhaitham comes out of his room at this moment and walks over to their common shelf where the architect stands.

Kaveh has a meeting with a particularly frustrating client today and he’s feeling so anxious that he cannot help but snaps at Alhaitham too, “How many times do I have to tell you not to bring ugly wood carvings into our home!?”

Alhaitham looks at Kaveh, his lips tightens. Something unfathomable flashes across his eyes and disappears just as suddenly.

“Do whatever you want with it then,” Alhaitham says finally after an awkward silence. Then he grabs his key from the shelf and turns his back to walk towards the front door without saying another word.

Kaveh looks at him leaving the house in puzzlement. It is not a rare occasion to see the Scribe not bothering to argue with him but Alhaitham never walks away after saying only one sentence before. He looks as if he’s angry or even…pouting? Kaveh is not sure if that word can describe Alhaitham.

Maybe Kaveh did something wrong? He gasps at the thought.

Is it because the smell of the cream soup he made yesterday was too strong? Or maybe it was the fact that the house is now so messy because he’s in the middle of tidying up things? Or maybe he moved or touched some books he wasn’t supposed to?

Kaveh ends up thinking for the whole day. He even spaces out during the client’s meeting and almost drops the model when he tries to present his plan.

He thinks and thinks but nothing comes to his mind. They have been on unusually pretty good terms lately, so he cannot think of something recent that might have made Alhaitham upset.

Kaveh is so deep in thought he almost bumps into Collei on the way home.

“Ah! Sorry!” Kaveh exclaims then realizes who it is, “Collei! I didn’t know you were in town today!”

Somehow, the trainee Forest Ranger looks shocked to see him. She quickly picks up something that fell to the ground when they bumped into each other earlier. Kaveh catches a glimpse of a small green box with yellow ribbon before Collei swiftly hides it behind her back.

“It’s so good to see you! Wanna grab something to eat?” Kaveh asks, ignoring her suspicious behavior. He’s not ready to go home just yet, not when he still hasn’t figured out what he did wrong.

“Uh, sorry I have somewhere to be today,” Collei replies nervously, avoiding to meeting his eyes, “If you will excuse me, I really need to get going.”

Then she takes off before he can say another word.

Kaveh ruffles his hair in confusion. What is going on today?

After wandering around aimlessly for a while, he decides that he has no other place to go except the good old Lambad’s Tavern.

He sits down at a table and orders a drink even though it’s merely 5PM.

“Hey, Kaveh!” Lambad shouts his name from behind the counter, “That one’s on the house! Happy Birthday!”

Oh. Shit.

A realization strikes him like a bolt of lightning.

“How could I forget!” he cries, standing up abruptly, “It is my birthday!”

He tells Lambad that he’ll take a raincheck on that glass of wine before leaving the tavern. Kaveh rushes home as fast as he can and finds Alhaitham standing in front of the shelf with the Aranara carving on one hand and a bag on another.

Alhaitham raises his eyebrows when he sees Kaveh practically flying from the front door.

“No, wait—-“ Kaveh tries to catch his breath, “D-don’t throw that away!”

“Oh?” Alhaitham puts down the Aranara and turns to face the architect. “Seems like you finally remember something.”

“Sorry for what I said this morning,” Kaveh blurts out, “I know it sounds like an excuse but that client’s project kept me frustrated all night and I shouldn’t have taken it on you.”

Alhaitham looks at him silently.

“Alright, alright,” Kaveh puts two hands in the air, “I apologize for calling it ugly.”

The Scribe lets out a chuckle right this second. It is clear that he does not intend put up any fights with Kaveh on his birthday.

Alhaitham hands him the Aranara in question and asks, “Will you also stop calling my other wood carvings ugly?”

“Well, I wouldn’t go that far,” Kaveh replies with a beaming smile. His eyes light up as he takes the wooden figure in his hands.

Alhaitham gives him birthday presents every year but they are usually books or drafting tools. This is the first time Kaveh has received something custom-made. Well, from anyone, really.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into me this morning,” he mumbles, feeling the rough wood under his fingers. “Sure, it looks a bit cruder than that one in your bedroom which I kind of like, but the more you look at it, the mor—- Hey!”

“I changed my mind,” Alhaitham announces with a straight face, the Aranara is now back to his hand. “I’m taking it back.”

Kaveh blinks.

“What did you just say!?” he raises his voice.

“I don’t see any reasons why it should be in the possession of someone who doesn’t appreciate it,” he replies simply while putting the wooden figure in the bag, then starts to walk to the entrance hall.

“How do you know I don’t appreciate it!?” Kaveh follows him, trying so hard not to yell at his back, “This is ridiculous! You just gave it to me literally a second ago!”

That does not make Alhaitham slow down one bit. In the heat of the moment, Kaveh charges at him without thinking.

Next thing he knows, they are both on the floor with Alhaitham being beneath him. He quickly snatches the bag from the Scribe’s hand and sits up.

“Ha!” Kaveh exclaims, raising it in the air in victory. “You cannot walk away from me this time! Don’t you know that it’s rude to take back what you have given!?”

When there isn’t any response, Kaveh glances down, only to see that Alhaitham is covering his face laughing.

Kaveh looks at this scene in disbelief.

“Were you just teasing me!?” he asks with a high-pitched voice, “Oh my god, who are you? What have you done to my Alhaitham?”

“I couldn’t help,” he is still laughing, “You should’ve seen your face.”

It’s extremely rare for Kaveh to see a silly side of Alhaitham, let alone seeing him laughing like this. Kaveh stares dazedly at him, completely forgetting why he was mad in the first place.

“You can have the Aranara,” Alhaitham says with a smile, “Will you get off me now? Although I don’t really mind—-”

Kaveh interrupts this sentence with a cough, just realizing what a dangerous position they are in. He shifts to move out of the way, but at this moment, a small piece of paper falls of the bag and lands on Alhaitham’s chest.

The Scribe’s eyes widen as he moves to reach for it, but Kaveh is quicker.

Seeing what’s on there, he is speechless.

Alhaitham covers his face again, but his ears are turning visibly red. The worse thing is, Kaveh can also feel his face burning too.

“You carved this,” he asks softly, “for me?”

After a while, Alhaitham admits with a sigh, “Yes.”

Kaveh is dumbfounded. He assumed that it was merely a commission. Never has he ever thought Alhaitham would go that far to do something like this for him.

“That’s why you’ve been coming home late for the past week!” Kaveh just remembers how unusual it was when he said that he needed to work overtime.

“You knowing this wasn’t part of the plan, I was too careless.” he says flatly and decides to pull himself up, unintentionally getting closer to Kaveh. “Now it’s good time for you to forget you have seen that workshop receipt.”

“Nuh-uh,” Kaveh pokes his chest, “This Aranara is now worth a million mora to me.”

“You have just burdened yourself with a new enormous debt then” Alhaitham teases.

“Hey!”

“I think wood craving has grown on me.” Alhaitham smiles, “So I’m afraid you’ll have to put up with these ugly figurines for now.”

“Come on, they are not that ugly,” Kaveh chuckles, “But we do need to set up a proper corner for them so they don’t disrupt the current aesthetic.”

The Scribe can’t help but roll his eyes at this comment.

“Seriously though, thank you” Kaveh softly touches his shoulder and looks directly into his eyes, “It’s the first time someone did something so special for me. I will always treasure it.”

The Scribe stares back at him and without a warning, Alhaitham pulls him into his arms and whispers to his hair, “Happy Birthday, Kaveh.”

After that, Collei, along with Cyno and Tighnari, burst open their front door right when they are still hugging in the hallway. Kaveh’s face turns as red as a tomato as Alhaitham helps him up on his feet.

The night cannot be more perfect. The house is filled with the smell of good food, laughers and joy. His most favorite dishes are laid out on the table and the gifts are waiting for him to open. Wine never tastes better and even Cyno’s jokes are funnier than usual.

Kaveh watches as everyone starts to eat and cheerfully discuss about what games they are going to play tonight. His heart aches a bit thinking of how much he does not want to ever lose this; his friends, his happiness, his home.

And when his eyes accidentally meet with Alhaitham’s, he cannot help but wonder, would things turn out differently if he hadn’t met the Scribe at the tavern that night where he had taken Kaveh in?

He tries harder now to stay happy, to actually listen to some of Alhaitham’s advice, the sensible ones at least.

“Don’t burden yourself with something unnecessary from the past and from the future”, he would say.

So instead of dwelling on the past regrets and unknown future, Kaveh thinks he is ready now to find comfort in the present happiness.

(END)

[kaciebello]

Band-aids of death

Masterlist

Luke Castellan x Hades! reader (implied, fem)

Percy Jackson x Hades! reader (platonic)

Summary: Percy meets the bandaid dealer who has his friend so smitten

Warning: Absolutely non, teeth rotting stuff really, no use of y/n

author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I read the books long ago and I'm currently in the process of re-reading them, so some lore might be wrong. Also using what I remember from the show! Proofread by me and me only :(

word count: 1347

Percy has been in at this camp stuff for a week now and he was just not loving it. From the overcrowded cabin 11 to Clarisse's relentless bugging, he just wanted to go home. This was his home now, yes, but that does not mean he can't yearn for better. And on top of all that, it seems like he's good at absolutely nothing. If there was a competition at being bad at everything he would still somehow end up in second place.

Today was no better. Luke, Counselor of the Hermes cabin, has decided that maybe Percy could take on a sword fight. He couldn't. Not like he could go against the best swordsman in the last 300 years anyway. After what felt like hours, Luke finally gave the boy a break and Percy felt like he could breathe. Only for a second that is, because his friend decided to take him to a new area of the camp.

Walking to a small building only lightly connected to the infirmary was rather ominous. While everywhere in the camp where people, this shack could be abandoned and he would not be surprised. His friend. however, walked faster than normally, seemingly excited to show him what's inside.

They stopped by the open door and Percy could finally see that it was not abandoned and the little two-story house was, indeed, occupied. Looking at his friend with suspicion, who now sports a wide grin on his face, Percy could not help but think there was more to it than Luke said.

Walking in, Luke chimes the bell that sits on the top of the door frame. The girl who, until now, was checking out the shelves of what seems to be medicine and chemicals turns around with a confused look. She wore the same ‘ camp uniform ‘ as everyone else, confirming to Percy that she was one of them as well. Although her shirt seemed to have switched color schemes and was black with an orange print of the camp name.

“ Hello Sweetheart, how's the inventory going?” Luke asks and pushes Percy slightly in front of him, not something he appreciates. The girl, unamused, does not answer his question. Instead, she answers him with her own. “ What brings you here, Castellan? Last time I checked you did not need allergy medication.” Chuckle could be heard from his friend. Percy, not interested in their bickering, looks around the room. Small table by the door with a stack of paper, a black mysterious jar, and what Percy recognizes as an old land-line phone. One wall of the room was just a shelf with what he now knows for sure is medicine with a door at the end. By the window, there was an old medical bed, and next to it, stood, by Percy's standards, an unstable chair.

A hand on his shoulder snaps him out and he turns his head back to the girl. “ So what's wrong with you?” She asks and motions him to sit on what seems to be a more sturdy version of the same chair he just saw. “ Other than that I suck at everything and my father not bothering to claim me? nothing much really.” Laugher was heard from the two older campers. 

“ No, I meant like, why are you here guys? If you were training with Lu here, you might have some scratches.” She points to Luke, who seems to be proud just of the fact that she acknowledges him.  Before he can answer she continues, “Although if you're seriously hurt, maybe you should visit the Apollo kids, I ain’t no nurse, really.”

“ No need for that, we just need some band-aids.” Luke proclaims and pats his chest where his heart is. “ You have bandaids in your cabin, and I know for sure, I saw your siblings steal some. “ she snapped back softly at his friend.’ It's in their nature’ Luke says under his nose and takes a few steps to the girl putting his arm around her shoulders. “ Sweetheart here is a terrible nurse-”

“Hey! I am an excellent necromancer!”

“Too bad that your patient is still alive, Sweets,” Luke argues back at the girl. She just shakes her head and walks behind her desk. Luke follows closely behind her like a magnet was pulling him over. Percy watches as she opens a drawer and pulls out the biggest box of band-aids he has ever seen. “ What kind do you want, em…” She looks at him kinda awkwardly. 

“Percy.” “ Right, Percy, do you want Spiderman band-aid? It's a big hit with the younger campers.” She smiles and pulls out an impressive collection of Spiderman band-aids. “ Ah, no, normal ones are fine.” I watch as a pout appears on her face as she puts them back and starts to look through the box as if looking for something. 

“I want the Spiderman one.” Chimes in Luke who is now leaning over this girl. “ You can get the boring ones, Castellan, I don't care.” It was now Luke's turn to pout. “ What cabin are you from?”  Percy asks, wanting to learn some more about the girl that has his friend so smitten. Her eyes look up at him before going back to her box.

“ I don't have a cabin, I sleep on the second floor. There is a staircase in the back.” She says as it is the most normal thing ever. Which it was, just not in camp half-blood. That confuses Percy, from what he learned at the camp so far, everyone that has been claimed either has a cabin or just sleeps in Hermeses one. So that is exactly why he asks. “ Why don't you sleep in Hermes cabin?” The girl straightens her posture, seeming in thought. His friend hugged her from behind around her shoulders. They remind him of an old married couple. 

“Well, there are cabins for the twelve Olympians. My dad has no throne on Olympus. He kinda does his own thing down under.” “ Australia?” “No Percy, the underworld.” She says though giggles and wiggles herself from the hug. She makes her way forward to Percy and stands in front of him carefully peeling parts of the band-aid. 

“ Your dad is Hades?” Hum leaves her as an answer. Focusing on placing the band-aid right above his eyebrow where he scratched himself earlier during training with Luke. When she's done, she turns to a black jar on her table and opens it. To Percy's surprise, she pulls out a lollipop and gives it to him. “You're good to go fighter, Don't stay here longer than you need to!” She sings and ushers the boy out of the chair and to the door. Percy turns to his friend,

 “ Luke, are you not coming?” he asks waiting for him to answer. Luke gives him a look of fake thought, Percy knows it's fake because he, himself used it many times back at the academy. Luke shakes his head and smiles.

“No, I haven't been treated by my nurse yet.” The girl groans and snaps her head to the sky. Percy just shrugs and walks out of the building. As he opens his lollipop, he turns his head back to look at his friends.

He can see Luke being peppered with kisses on his face. When the girl moves he can see a band-aid with hearts that now decorates the scar on his face. Percy just chuckles and moves on, determined to find Grover or Annabeth to tell them what he witnessed. He failed to notice his bright blue bandaid with bubbles on it.

[lale-txt]

❥ subtle ways they say "I love you" without saying it ↳ w/ Nanami, Ino, Toji & Naoya

a/n: gn!reader for Nanami, Toji & Ino, f!reader for Naoya! somehow i got carried away writing these and halfway through wondered if i should have just made single fics for each of them... oh well ♡-(๑˙ー˙๑)-♡

word count: 1.5k

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

Nanami needs his sweet time until he’ll put his feelings into proper words, part of him too afraid to pursue love during his time as jujutsu sorcerer, but his actions have always been louder than words anyway

his love is stored in the smallest gestures, like fixing the collar of your shirt or helping you put on a necklace, not letting you go without kissing the back of your neck gently, his lips lingering on your skin for a heartbeat longer than expected

when you’re in a bookstore together, his eyes always follow you around even when you’re looking at different shelves; he observes which books you pick up and put back again because you have too many unread ones at home (both of you are terrible book hoarders), just so he can go back another day and get you the one book you really wanted

sometimes he’ll also make the time to read it before he gifts it to you, small scribbled thoughts on the side so you can discuss them together later–a tiny book club of two lovers

in the comfort of your home, Nanami is also incredibly touchy, never not seeking skin contact; anything will do, even if it’s just linked pinkies across the table while you’re having your morning coffee and sharing the newspaper

his love will seep into you with every gaze, every smile, every kiss you share

with you, Nanami can let his guard down; he can allow himself to just be loved, with his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his hair, charming out sweet sounds from his throat that sound a lot like “I love you” if you listen closely

if he has to leave for a solo mission, Nanami will leave a handwritten note on the table for you to find in the morning, nothing too cheesy but enough to remind you that you’re always on his mind

and if you show him your collection of notes one day, stored in a box in your closet, a smile will play upon his lips, asking you if you really kept all of them (even if some of them just say things like “Can you buy eggs while I’m out? I want to make us waffles for breakfast tomorrow” or “I watered your dying plant on the top shelf. xx”) 

there’s wonder in his eyes when he looks at you, as if he sometimes finds it hard to believe that your love is mutual, that he’s allowed to experience this during his lifetime, and the quiet hope that maybe, maybe this can last forever

❦ 𝐈𝐍𝐎

Ino’s love for you is written all over his face: the way it lights up when he sees you, the confident yet boyish smirk when you compliment him, the gleam in his eyes when you call out for him

it’s in his touch, too

his fingers playing with yours when you’re sitting somewhere together, always fidgeting with them as if he couldn’t believe that he really gets to hold your hand

or the arm that sneaks around your waist when you’re on the train together and it’s crowded, his body shielding you from the other passengers and giving you some space to breathe (plus–how convenient–he can steal a kiss from your lips without anyone looking, too)

Ino also walks you home at any given occasion, whether it’s after a night out with your senpais or after a mission you’ve been on together; he doesn’t mind that he lives in a different neighborhood or if he has to get up early the next day, he rather wants to know you’re home safely

when you’re apart, Ino and you keep texting with each other throughout the day, his lips curling into a smile whenever your name lights up on his screen

Ino will text you everything and anything that reminds him of you and it’s plenty and in the most mundane things

[img.attached] “saw this chonky cat on my mission. u would have loved to give them belly rubs. Nanami said i’m not allowed to take them home with me”

[new text] “i think we should adopt a cat one day. maybe two so it doesn’t get lonely. knowing us we’ll also adopt a third”

[voice message] “babe can you hear this? i’ve never heard a cat purr like this. (sounds of rustling and Ino sweet talking to the cat, it’s purring very loudly)”

[new text] “i hope the cat distribution system chooses us next”

being loved by Ino means being part of his future and his dreams; he’s thinking of you always and can’t imagine a life without you in it, so listen closely when he tells you all about it

❦ 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈

Toji isn’t shy to admit his love verbally, whispered into your ear at night, his voice bourbon raspy, making sure you never forget how your own name sounds when rolled off his lips

being in love makes him domestic; Toji grew up not knowing what a warm home is, and so he’ll strive to make his place one for you both to hide from the world outside

it’s like your presence is a reminder that even someone like him is allowed to love, and be loved in return

Toji brings you your favorite beverage to bed in the morning, urging you not to get up just yet (he also wants to slip back under the covers with you)

if you really have to get up on on cold mornings though, Toji will give you his worn and warmed up sweater for you to wear so you won’t be freezing

he also slips pocket warmers into your coat before you leave the house and gives you the deepest kiss, almost as if his biggest concern is that you stay warm

cooking isn’t Toji’s strong suit but he’ll get you takeout, even if it means driving across the whole town to get you that one dish from that specific restaurant that you’re craving (and some dessert on top); your big smile once he returns home is his solely reward

after seeing you struggle with opening a jar of jam once, Toji will go around the kitchen and loosen the lids of all the jars for you. every single one of them. there won’t be even one jar left that gives you any further troubles

it’s endearing in a way, how Toji always takes the fastest route to solve your struggles (there’s barely anything he can’t solve with his hands)

with love, it all comes down to warmth for Toji: the heat of your body when he has his arms wrapped around you. letting you warm up your cold hands on his stomach (he tries his best not to flinch). sharing a hot bath while you’re getting snowed in.

to Toji, you are his sun, the one who brought back colors into his life and who showed him what it means to live despite everything; he may be blinded by your light but he doesn’t need to see to find your lips in every universe 

❦ 𝐍𝐀𝐎𝐘𝐀

Naoya doesn’t do love, he prefers to be worshiped and adored over admitting his feeling for you

yet still, he has his ways of showing that you actually mean something more to him than just being his trophy wife

the kitchen staff and servants have been drilled to cook all of your meals exactly to your liking, and he’ll look overly pleased with himself over dinner when he notices that you enjoy the food, proud of himself as if he was the one who prepared it for you (smug bastard that he is)

there’s always an air of possessiveness around him when you’re with him; as if he wants the whole world to know that you’re his wife, even insisting you walk by his side instead of behind him, always one hand around your waist or in the back of your neck, making sure to keep you close

even though it displeases him that you want to spent time apart from him, he made sure that you get a room of your own in the Zen’in estate after your arranged marriage (he still lingers around often until you kick him out)

he insists on sharing a bed at night though–it’s when he gets surprisingly clingy, insisting to hold you close, his hands playing with anything he can get a hold of: your hair, the hem of the pajamas he picked out for you in the color he thinks suits you best, the ring on your finger that proofs you’re his

Naoya can be surprisingly gentle in those moments when it’s just the two of you–no family and no servants around

his sharp yellow eyes study your features thoroughly, ignoring the pull at his heart strings when he picks up an eyelash from your cheeks and holds it out for you when you make a wish

he’s dying to know what you wished for, but he doesn’t ask; part of him scared it doesn’t involve him, part of him too prideful to believe you could wish for something that doesn’t include him, because at the end of the day you still belong to him–or is it the other way around?

[babygirl-riley]

Daddy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird

When coming home Simon hears his daughter start to fuss.

Warnings: angst, mentions of childhood trauma, fluff, swearing, Dad!Simon

simon x reader guide

simon x reader family edition

Simon was fucking tired, the mission was long and difficult. It took them 4 months to plan the fucker just for the target to know their every move. He lost lots of men and women those nights, they had to camp somewhere in the middle of the desert cause transportation got fucked.

He unlocked the door of his home and walked in. Immediately he heard the whimpering. Simon heard you trying to lullaby both of your toddler. Simon was told that she has been sick for almost 4 days. It was teething that led to two ear infections. His poor angel was getting her ass jumped left and right with them infections.

He took his mask and boots off leaving them on the shelf near the door. He locked the door as he made his way through the hallway. When getting closer he heard you sniffling. “I don’t know what to do baby girl,” The toddler cried harder as you cried with her. “I am sorry. What do you need baby?”

Simon tapped the door making you jump. At first you thought you were going to fight but then relief came through. “Simon,” You started to sob. “Just take a shower and I will be there in minute.”

“I can take her.” He said walking fully in.

“No,” You wiped your tears quickly before shaking your head. “It’s fine you just got home. Please just take a shower love.”

Simon nodded, he didn’t want to but he could tell if he didn’t you would burst. He saw the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes were. You haven’t gotten any sleep. That tugged at his best strings, you have been dealing with this all by yourself so he wants to be able to help you.

Simon quickly got into the shower, washing all the paint, blood, sweat, and dirt from him. He waited for a moment before turning the faucet off and get out. He heard your sobs once more as he wrapped the towel around himself. Opening the door that showed you laying on your side curled up. Simon walked up to you and sat next to your body. He placed a hand on your hip rubbing circles.

“Not the best welcome home,” You sighed turning to face him. “Im sorry.”

“For what love? Taking care of our child? Don’t ever apologize for that.” He reassured, basically whispering.

“Just me crying and Im so fucking tried. She doesn’t sleep nothing longer than maybe 5 minutes before she is screaming. And I wanted to give you a warmer welcome and instead buzzed you off and…”

“Thats enough sweethear’ it has been a long week for you,” He got up to grab sweatpants and went around to his side to pull the blankets up and over him. You watched as he laid and scooted closer to you wrapping his arm around you. “Come ‘ere, get some sleep my dove.”

He doesn’t remember when you fell asleep or even him. Simon heard the soft whimpers start, you didn’t move and he was glad that you didn’t. He was also very happy that you moved out of his grasp while in your sleep. Simon carefully and quietly headed out of the room. Rubbing his tired eyes as he made it to his daughter’s room.

When he approached the room there she was. Standing up in her crib crying, once her eyes landed on his she cried harder. “Daddy.” She called a couple of times.

“Alright princess, you’re alright daddy’s here.” He said picking her up.

It took him a back of how hot she is, sweat gripping her pjs. Her crying increasing as she gripped onto his shoulder. “Shhh I know,” He said bouncing up and down. “I know baby.”

He felt her diaper and walked to the changing table, which to her was a sin. When he placed her down she screamed a bit, immediately he gently placed a palm on her chest. Putting small pressure. She stopped screaming as she still cried. His daughter loved when he did that when she wanted to be cuddled yet when he had to do certain things like this.

Because of how many times he has done this with her, he one handed did the diaper. He left her only in her diaper, get some air to her skin due to sweating and her being hot. As she still cried, he picked her up and lead out of the room walking to the kitchen. “Let’s try a warm bottle and me a tea yeah?” He said quietly, holding her close as she still cried.

While working on the bottle he rocked back and forth waiting for the teapot to heat up. He wrapped both of his arms around her holding her more close. “I’m ‘orry my birdie, teeth are arseholes. I know.”

She held around his neck placing her head down on his shoulder. Simon kept holding on until the smallest noise came from the pot. He didn’t want to wake you, he was even surprised you haven’t woke up yet. His daughter became more whimpering than crying.

He poured his mug first so the water could cool down just a bit more. Then poured water into her bottle. He made his tea before finish making her bottle. Afterward he walked to the living room and placed the tv on. Miss Rachel was her favorite to watch lately, that’s what you mentioned.

He placed her forward towards the tv as he placed his mug on the side table. Simon held her close to him as she drank her bottle. Rubbing her belly as he watched the show with her. He hated this woman, just found her annoying, you mentioned to him that it was her job to do that fake high pitch thing. To him it just made him want to mute it and never see it again.

His daughter leaned closer to him as he sipped his tea. She sniffled and hiccuped due to crying the whole time. He smoothed her thick blonde hair back, making her eyes roll. Another thing she gets from him. People massaging his scalp or play with his hair he would pass out from.

After three videos both Simon and her were laying on the couch. He had her on his chest with a blanket on both of them. “Shh I know,” He said as she started to whimper again. “Daddy is here, don’t worry. He will stay. I would do anythin’ for you not to be in this pain.”

She sucked on her binki her eyes rolling fighting sleep. Yet another thing she got from him. Fighting sleep. Simon remembered when you told him you were pregnant with her. He was terrified. Scared that he wouldn’t be good to her, that he would turn into his own father.

Simon actually left for hours from the house making you think that it was a bad idea to tell him. Until he came back in tears, first time you seen him break down. Telling you his fears and worries. You would comfort him and hold him that he has never been an ounce of his father. Never be like him.

Simon remembered when he asked for his dad to hold him. His dad told him to stop being a child, to grow up. Or even watch him cry in pain and laugh at the fact he was crying. He even remember Tommy being hit for even mentioning that his throat hurt. Telling him that is something to be crying about when he was hurt.

Because of those memories he was going on for months in his mind that he didn’t believed that, didn’t believe that he would be a good father, it wasn’t until she was born. When he held her in his big hands. He knew that this was the opportunity to not be his low life father. And yet here he was being not that, his father would have never been comforting him when he was sick. Holding him. Loving him. He was grateful to be able to be here for her. For you. To show the love and care that he wanted to.

Simon sighed as he felt her breathing slow down, falling into deep sleep. He settled more down into the couch as he closed his eyes, holding on to his princess.

You woke up with the sun beaming into the room. You groaned as you placed a hand to where Simon would have been. It was cold. You opened your eyes and frowned. Was a dream that he was home? You sighed getting up and heading to your daughter’s room. For it to be empty too.

You walked around the house figuring out where the hell was your daughter. Which when you heard Miss Rachel on the tv and two figures on the couch. It made your heart swell. You walked to around to face both your daughter clinging onto her father. Simon softly snoring and his daughter as well. You forget how similar they look.

The soft features of when they slept. Their hair. Their nose. You also noticed that she was just in her diaper and didn’t look sweaty. You inhaled deeply feeling a bit of relief. Hopefully that means that her temperature went down and back to normal.

You smiled thinking about the time where you were almost about to pop. Simon holding your tummy telling your daughter that he will protect her with every ounce of his being. Not matter where or what she is doing, he will be there. You would play with his hair as he rubbed your tummy, feeling her move every time he would place a hand on your tummy.

You grabbed both bottle and mug, walking back to the kitchen. “Definitely going to be a daddy’s girl.” You whispered, starting to make breakfast for your perfect family.

[oneforthemunny]

hard learning |dom!steddie x sub!reader|

prompt: eddie and steve find out you've been lying to them. they're less than impressed with you.

contains:  MINORS DNI 18+ ABSOLUTELY DO NOT READ IF YOU'RE NOT 18+!!!!! poly relationship (throuple), steve x eddie x reader, dom!eddie, dom!steve, sub!reader, language, mentions of dom/sub themes, spanking, degrading, mean dom!steddie, gagging, oral fem receiving, double penetration, aftercare

Steve walked through the front door of the small home, shoulders slumped and rounded with defeat of the day. He hated midterm week, hated the week after it even more. When the college kids scrambled in to cram as much studying as they could, spilling over books and notes, scouring for the supplied they needed to pass the classes so they could enjoy their spring break. It made Steve crazy.

Waldenbooks was buzzing, sales had been great so his boss would be happy, but his employees- most college students themselves- had requested off for spring break, leaving Steve short staffed and running the store.

He could hear your giggle from the hallway, floating towards him like a soothing melody, eyes fluttering shut at the sound. You'd chose to stay home for spring break, to stay with him and Eddie. Your junior year (the second time around) was spent having lazy days in bed with the boys, savoring the moments with them before they went to work, sweet kisses and quiet moans spilled between crumpled bed sheets.

You'd sucked Steve off that morning in the bathroom while he brushed his teeth. He didn't even ask you to. You just followed him in, dropping to your knees on the fluffy bath mat with a sleepy smile. "Missed you, Stevie," You hummed, nuzzling into the soft skin of his tummy, warm with sleep, soft lips trailing kisses down to his boxers.

You didn't ask, and Eddie would have corrected you. Yanked you back by your hair, bending you over the sink to spank you until you were crying, promising you learned your lesson. But Steve couldn't bring himself to do it, not when you were so sweet, and you were making him feel so good.

Steve rounded the corner into the living room, watching you reach on your tip toes to dust the top of the shelf. You were a good girl like that, keeping the house tidy for them. They'd given you chores, of course, tasks for you to complete for rewards or punishment if you didn't, but they didn't have to. You'd do it for them regardless,

Eddie's boom box sat on the table, cranked to a pop radio station that hummed softly, filling the space with the bubbly music you liked. You wiggled your hips to the beat, unaware of Steve's presence behind you until you turned, a squeal of surprise leaving your lips.

"Steve!" You gasped, holding the duster to your chest. "You scared me!" You shrilled, eyes bulging at him.

Steve grinned. "Sorry, angel, didn't mean to scare ya." He reached for the buttons of his top, popping the buttons free down his chest.

You blushed gently, biting your bottom lip while you swayed, eyeing him hungrily. Steve bit back a grin. Of course you were pent up, here all alone after this morning, poor girl.

Turning the dial to the radio down, you set the duster down, sauntering over to Steve. "D'ya have a good day?" You chirped, finishing off the last few buttons.

Steve watched your manicured fingers undo the last of the buttons, pulling the tail of the shirt out of his work slacks slowly. "Pretty good." Steve hummed. "Can't wait for this week to be over and my workers come back. Maybe I can actually have a day off next week."

You sighed sympathetically, pouting up at him. "I'm sorry, Stevie." Sliding your hands down to his belt, innocent enough, you undoing his belt like that, yet Steve throbbed behind his zipper.

"Maybe I can help you relax?" You suggested, tilting your head to the side. "Ed's supposed to be home in a few so we can," You let your hands trail, featherlight fingertips trialing to brush over his bulge. "Play, a little later." You grinned wickedly, a devious little smile that had Steve's chest constricting.

"Fuck," Steve groaned, watching you play him lightly over his pants. "You're not supposed to be-fuck- touching us without permission, are you?" He furrowed his brows sternly down at you, faltering a little when you squeezed him, just lightly enough to have him groaning.

"But I'm just trying to make you feel better, Stevie." You pouted, rolling your palm over the rough cotton of his dark pants. "Just trying to be good for you. Make you feel good."

Steve's breathing stuttered, willing himself to pull your hand back despite his sense screaming at him. "Thank you, baby, that did feel good, but," Steve gave your hand a tight squeeze when you huffed, brows lifting in warning. "Let's wait for Ed. You know he'll be sad if we start without him."

Your bottom lip juts out a little further, but you nod, stepping back from Steve so he could walk towards the bedroom. "Did you get everything done?" Steve asked, looking over his shoulder, hard sole loafers clacking against the hardwood down the hall.

You drooled, eyes trained on the shiny shoes. You remembered when Steve first got them, only a few weeks ago. You'd been bratty that day, huffy and irritated while shopping. Steve had hauled you out of the shoe store, spanking you with the loafer in the car. It had stung something awful, and the following spanking with Eddie's paddle had been miserable, yet you ached at the thought, panties embarrassingly wet at the memory.

"Mmhmm," You hummed, swallowing the drool that pooled in your mouth at the thought. "I have our laundry washing right now. Just have to finish up the towels. The dryer is taking a while to dry again."

Steve sighed in response. "Tell Eddie when he gets home. He'll have to look at it again." As if on cue, the front door closed. You perked up, grinning at the sound of the other man, your other lover. Steve smirked. "Speak of the fuckin' devil."

Eddie's heavy boots carried down the hallway and you grinned, peeking around to greet him. "Hi, baby," Eddie cooed.

You smiled, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into a sweet kiss. He was still in his little work badge. He found it demeaning, embarrassing, but you thought he looked positively delicious in it. Eddie worked down at a local music instrument shop, the specialist in all things guitar related. With the grunge, punk rock wave that was creeping through the music world, everyone wanted an electric guitar. Lucky for Eddie. He sold, tuned, and even repaired and gave lessons on the side for some extra cash. The only downside was the badge- rather a plaque that was bigger than an index card- that all employees had to wear on their chest. A cheesy, oversized, cartoony music note with the stores name on it that Eddie cringed at every time he put it on.

"Hi," You chirped, pulling back, eyes shining at him. "Missed you."

Eddie smirked, pecking your pouting lips. "Missed you." He sighed, walking towards the bedroom with you hanging off his waist. "Have a good day?"

You nodded, looking over at Steve, shirtless in his boxers, rummaging through his drawers for more comfortable clothes. "Did you?" You asked, dazed, zoned in at the sight of Steve's hairy chest.

Eddie snorted lightly, shaking his head. "Pretty good." He reached beneath his shirt to take off the badge attached. "You got something in the mail, baby. Laid it by the stove. Something from school."

You froze, eyes widening slightly. It was your midterm grades, shit. They weren't supposed to send those until after Spring Break, those fuckers. Steve's brow raised, looking up at you skeptically. "What is it?"

"I don't know!" You squeaked, quick and defensive. You cringed slightly at the boys' furrowed brows. "I'll go check. Be right back." You smiled sweetly towards them, scampering towards the kitchen.

Eddie looked at Steve, brow raised wordlessly, skeptically towards each other.

You cursed under your breath, sorting through the bills, magazines, ads, until you saw it. Your name printed across it with the University's crest in the corner. White knuckled grip on the envelope, you folded it up tight, balling it in your fist. You knew the boys would check the trash, so you opted to get to the guest bathroom down the hall, shove it in the box of tampons until you could dispose of it when they're not home.

You turned down the hall, hand hidden behind your back. You stepped towards the opposite hall, barely making it past the doorframe. "What was it, baby?" Steve asked, arms crossed over his broad chest.

You cringed, stopping in the hall. You peeked around the corned, body hidden by the wall. Steve looked at you expectantly. "Nothing!" You chirped. "It was just something about my financial aid."

Steve lifted a brow. "Where are you going?" He asked. Eddie joined him, looking at you over his shoulder, tugging a t-shirt over his head.

You felt your heart thump hard in your chest. "I have to pee." You said simply.

Eddie raised a brow suspiciously. Steve scoffed lightly, eyeing you skeptically. "So come in here?" He raised a brow, that obvious tone that made your cheeks burn.

Eddie's eyes narrowed at you. "Yeah, baby," He said smoothly, eerily calm. "Come in here."

You stuttered, eyes flashing from the bathroom back to the boys. You halfway contemplated making a run for the bathroom, but you knew that would only make your punishment worse.

Feet dragging towards the boys, you kept your hands behind your back, fist balled with the folded letter, cheeks red under their watchful gaze. "Excuse me." You muttered, politely, trying to push back the two figures crowding the door. They didn't budge. "Excuse me." You huffed, gritted teeth and annoyed.

"Look at me." Eddie barked, commanding and mean.

You blistered under his gaze, slowly lifting your eyes up to him. "Eddie, stop being mean." You whined, foot stomping on the ground. "I have to pee, let me through-"

"What are you hiding?" Eddie asked, nodding towards you.

Your spine straightened, palms sweating around the folded paper. "Nothing." You said quickly.

Steve rolled his eyes with an unimpressed snort. "Right." He scoffed sarcastically. Your cheeks burned, eyes narrowing in retaliation. "Show me what you've got in your hand."

"I don't have anything in my hand, Steve." You snapped. "Let me pee or I'm going to the other bathroom."

Eddie reached out for you, eyes widening in shock when you pivoted, jumping back out of his grasp. You met his eyes, yours rounded slightly, while Steve's bounced between the two of you, a little apprehensive at what Eddie might do. He was always the stricter one, the meaner one. You didn't disobey him often, sure that he'd make you sorry for it if you did.

Eddie gawked, tongue rolling down the side of his cheek. He looked over at Steve, nodding slightly towards you. You froze just before both men seized for you. "No!" You screeched, turning to run down the hall, but they caught you easily, each by the arm, holding you firmly.

Your first stayed clenched against the letter, wriggling and fighting in their grasp. "Stop it! Let me go!" You shrilled, pulling each of your arms.

"What's she got, Stevie?" Eddie asked, strong hands pinning your arm down, pivoting you body so your arm was trapped against him. His free hand went to steady your flailing limb, locking on your elbow. Normally, you'd love being manhandled by them, especially with the way the veins in their arms were throbbing prominent. It was enough to make your mouth water, even if you were about to be facing a harsh punishment.

You wiggled and fought, white knuckled fist gripping the letter. Steve wrenched your hand open, peeling your fingers open until he could fish the wadded letter out. He cried out triumphantly, holding it above his head, away from your hands. Eddie pulled you in tight to his chest, arms pinning your own down while you writhed against him, desperate to get free.

"What is it?" Eddie snapped, grip tightening with ever squirm and wiggle you gave.

Steve ripped the envelop open easily, eyes scanning over the crinkled paper. "No!" You cried out, lip wobbling already. "That's mine! Not yours! Give it back, Steve, it's not funny!" You knew it sounded juvenile, but you didn't care. You were desperate to get it back before he saw it. Before he saw the D you had in your Literature class.

The boys were strict with you and your school work, adamant that you do all your work so you were on track to graduate. You'd been mostly good, but the literature class was so draining. So much reading and analyzing, and sure, you'd missed a few assignments, but they didn't need to know that.

Steve's eyes flashed over to you. You stilled in Eddie's arms, cowering slightly under his glare. "What is it?" Eddie asked, looking from you back to Steve.

Steve's lips pressed together. "You want to tell him, or should I?"

You whimpered in response, deciding to try and wiggle free since Eddie's grip had loosened. He tightened his hold back on you, looking over at the letter that Steve held out. You could feel him tense, jaw tightening.

Eddie's hands were tight on your forearm, pulling you so he could see your face. More importantly so you should see him, stern and upset, dark eyes pooling with disappointment. "You have a D?" He asked. You shrunk slightly.

"How did you even get a D?" Steve asked, hands on his hips, glaring back at you. "We check your calendar every night and you-" Steve paused, face dropping. "Did you purposely not write down your assignments?" You looked down, silently.

Steve stomped over, hands grabbing your chin firmly, lifting it to meet his angry amber eyes. "I asked you a question."

"Yes." You sniffled, bottom lip already wobbling. "I just... I didn't want to do it all right then. I have so much other stuff to do and-and it was just one-"

"Stop." Steve snapped, shaking his head at you. "Don't you dare lie to me. I'm not stupid, baby, I know this was more than one assignment."

Eddie's eyes flashed down in disappointment at you, appalled by your boldness. Your face dropped, looking down at your feet. "'M sorry, Stevie." You whispered.

Eddie hummed, exhaling slowly while he looked over at Steve. "That's extremely disappointing." He shook his head slowly, taunting.

"I'm sorry." You croaked, teary eyed looking up at him, your sweetest, subbiest eyes, desperate to have him soften towards you.

"No," Eddie shook his head, free hand moving to pinch your cheek between his thumb and pointer finger. "But you will be." You whimpered, the small pat against your cheek a foreshadowing, taunting you with what's to come.

"What happens when you break our rules?" Eddie asked, eyes dark and peering into yours.

Your lips quivered. "Get punished." You muttered, cheeks blooming with heat.

Steve's hand knotted through the back of your hair, tugging your head back sharply. "Speak up." He snapped.

You whined at the pain. "I get punished, sirs." You huffed, you couldn't help the pout on your lips, not when they were being so mean with you.

Eddie looked at Steve, head bobbing just barely so he'd release his grip. Eddie loosened his grasp he had around you, catching your chin before you could fully relax at the released pressure.

"I want you kneeling in front of the bed waiting for us. You know how we want you." Eddie commanded.

You nodded obediently, his grip releasing your chin. You stepped towards the hall. "Nuh-uh." Steve snapped, eyes narrowing down at you. "Crawl. You know better."

You flushed at his chastisement, slowly sinking to your knees. The wood was hard against your joints, but you knew better than to complain; knew you'd be complaining about much more in a while.

Hands and knees dragging slow against the wood, you yelped at Eddie's palm cracking hard against your ass when you passed him. You desperately wanted to rub the sting, but you knew he'd tie you up if you did. On second thought, he'd probably do that anyways.

You shuddered, slowly shedding your clothes, tossing them in the dirty clothes hamper. The shushed tones of the boys outside made you shiver with anticipation, unsure and anxious at their plan for you. Sinking back down on the floor, facing the bed, spine long, palms resting on your thighs you waited. Straining to hear their conversation, but keeping your head straight.

Their synced footsteps started towards you, making your spine shoot with electricity. You started ahead, eyes trained on the bed post. You could see them, on either side of you in your peripheral.

"I'm giving you one chance." Steve said sternly, the letter still in his hand. "Tell me how many assignments you missed."

You opened your mouth to retaliate, Eddie stopping you. "You better be truthful." He warned. "It tells us on here, and if you lie to me, I'll go get my cane."

You shuddered at the threat. There was nothing you hated more on earth than the cane. They both knew that, only bringing it out when you really needed to be punished. The looming threat alone was enough to make you shape up.

You swallowed hard, lips pressing together, nails biting into the skin of your thighs. "T-Three, sir." You muttered.

Steve's brow lifted. "You sure about that?" He challenged, making your heart race.

You thought for a moment, brain wracking and filtering through the assignments. "I-I'm sure." You nodded. "Three. Two analysis and a quiz."

Eddie tsked, head shaking in disappointment. "Two analysis and a quiz." He mocked back at you. You pressed your lips together to keep the cry swelling in your chest down. "Can you believe that Stevie?"

"I can't." Steve pressed his lips together, shaking his head at you. "I would've thought our girl knew better."

"Me too." Eddie nodded, a heavy, exaggerated sigh leaving his lips. "And here I was thinking I was gonna get to be sweet to you tonight, baby." Eddie cooed, hand running down your hair. You tensed under his touch, senses heightened with every slow drag of his hand, anticipating the next move.

"You've been so good lately and now I see why," Eddie taunted, circling you like a shark to it's prey, all sharp teeth and an even sharper gaze. You kept your eyes forward, hands on your knees, clenching so you wouldn't shudder. "You've been trying to sweeten us up, haven't you?"

"She has." Steve nodded, arms crossing to stand in front of Eddie. "Been playing us all this time, hasn't she?"

Eddie hummed. "So you are smart then?" He tilted his head to the side. He could see you tense, eyes scanning you carefully. Though a punishment, you were still playing, he didn't want to overstep. The verbal humiliation and degrading was new, something the three of you were trying out.

"She's very smart." Steve cooed, and it made your heart swell. Hearing how genuine it sounded, how sweet and sincere.

Eddie's hand petted your hair gently. "I know she is." Eddie smirked, pushing strands of hair behind your ear. "You just make dumb decisions, don't you?"

His hand kept petting your locks, hand moving down to the ends of your hair. You gasped when Eddie tugged them without warning, pulling your head to tilt back and look at him. "I asked you a question, brat."

"Yes, Daddy." You whimpered. Eddie lifted a brow, eye narrowing at you in warning, it wasn't the answer he wanted and you knew that. You knew better than to try and sweeten him with his beloved title. "Yes, sir." You muttered, lip jutting.

Eddie released your hair, walking towards his closet. You so desperately wanted to look, but kept your eyes trained on the bed. You could feel Steve watching you, ensuring your eyes didn't wander while they picked out your punishment, decided your fate.

"Hmm, Stevie, what do you think?" Eddie asked, rummaging through the space. "How should we handle a liar?"

"I think you should get her gag out. The metal one." Steve grinned, malicious and scheming.

You wanted to whine, groan, cry, and beg them not to all at once. You loathed the metal gag; any gag at all, really. The metal one, a small metal circle on a leather strap, always hurt your mouth, stretching your mouth open uncomfortably and leaving you drooling. Not to mention the boys would purposely ask you questions so you'd wobble around your words, trying to form sentences with the uncomfortable intrusion, just so they could smack you and tell you to speak up.

"Hm, good idea, Stevie." Eddie grinned proudly back at him. His little apprentice, learning so quickly. "If you can't tell the truth, then you don't need to say anything at all, isn't that right?"

You bit back a pout, teething grinding while you stayed looking forward. Steve's backhand yanked you out of your daze, startling you out of your trance. It wasn't hard so much as shocking, but it had you quivering between your thighs.

"Did Eddie ask you a question?" Steve barked, hand gripping your jaw, squeezing your cheeks lightly while you faced him.

"Yes, sir." You took a deep breath, grounding yourself, keeping your cry in. You couldn't cry this early on, not giving them the satisfaction of that.

"Just go ahead and gag her, Eddie. She doesn't want to talk anyways." Steve scoffed, shaking his head down in disappointment at you. Your lip quivered. "She doesn't want to be a good girl."

"I do!" You whined, head snapping over towards Steve. He raised his brows, amused by your sudden whining, finally playing into your bratty side- the side he loved so much.

"I am being good! I'm not supposed to talk when you're punishing me." You huffed, reciting the rules they gave you months ago, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. The pout was enough, you were teetering into dangerous territory and you knew that.

"Oh?" Eddie's voice quipped, playful nearly. "You're a good girl?"

You deflated under his squinted stare, challenging. You knew he'd admonish you for the midterm, but that wasn't fair. You decided you'd let him know that. "'M being good right now." You mumbled, eyes flickering towards your knees.

"Yeah, when you want to be good." Eddie scoffed. "And you're supposed to be good all the time. Not just when you want."

You blushed deep with embarrassment, heat rising from your core to your cheeks. You were sure the boys could see your embarrassment flushing your body, exposed and vulnerable in front of them. You knew they loved it, you could tell by the bulge in Steve's sweatpants that he hadn't done anything to hide. Your mouth watered at the thought, wanting more than anything to have your cheeks hollowed around him again.

"Get the gag." Steve nodded down towards you. You huffed but didn't dare whine.

Your posture was slouched, pouting and sulking at the unfairness of it all. These two hypocrites, they didn't even go to college and they were so strict with you about your own school work. They didn't know how draining and time consuming it was.

"Straighten up. Stop all that fuckin' whining, or I'll really give you a reason to." Eddie snapped at you. You blew a short breath out your nose, lifting your spine.

Eddie watched you down the slope of his nose, eyes hard and challenging. Your tummy flipped at the sight. He crouched down in front of you, free hand grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, examining your features.

"Color." Eddie demanded, voice still stern but eyes softening to read your expression.

"Green." Your voice had an edge to it, biting and a little mean, eyes avoiding his. Eddie gripped your chin, pulling you to meet his face. His brows lifted in question, serious. For all his meanness and strictness, he was even more strict about the check ins and safe words.

You met his eyes, huffing just a little. "Green, Eddie, 'm fine." You insisted.

"You sure?" Eddie asked in a low voice, grip loosening on your chin. "Let me know now before we start."

"I'm fine, promise." You gave him a small smile.

"And if you're not?"

"I'll say black for hard stop, yellow to ease up, and squeeze three times if I need to stop." You droned the reciting back at him. You knew it made him feel better, knowing that you knew how to stop if you needed to. As confident as he was, he always worried about taking it to far with you, especially with punishments.

Eddie gave you a tiny grin, pecking your cheek sweetly. "Good girl." You beamed at the praise, the corners of your mouth flicking up just barely.

"See, knew you could be a good girl when you want." Eddie's salacious grin was back, a little taunting and mean. "Gotta teach you to be good all the time."

You saw him reach for his back pocket, eyes widening in anticipation. You knew the dreaded gag was in there, stretching your cheeks slightly in preparation for the discomfort that was coming.

"Open, wide." Eddie snapped.

You unhinged your jaw, mouth presented wide for him. He presented you with the gag, but not the metal one. To your surprise, he held the one with the red, rubber ball in the mouth piece instead. Your heart skipped in relief, letting the rubber settle between your teeth while Eddie fastened the strap around your head.

"Ah, Ed, are you going soft on us?" Steve teased with a snicker.

"Shut up, Harrington." Eddie snarled. "I figured for what she has coming, the rubber would be better. Don't want her breaking those pretty teeth out when she bites down."

Ice ran through your veins, a cold chill that made your shoulders shiver at the thought. You thought maybe they might go easy on you, you were wrong.

"Ah, good call." Steve nodded slowly. "Daddy's a lot nicer than me isn't he, baby?"

You gave a short nod, trying to swallow around the gag already, drool pooling inside your mouth.

"Aw, wasn't that sweet?" Steve sneered, taunting you. He crouched down beside you. "I wonder if you'll still think that in a little bit, baby." His hand was in your hair, pulling you up to stand, before dragging you harshly over the edge of the bed.

You landed with an oomph! bent over the bed, shuffling to spread your legs. Eddie bit back a remark of praise, eyes cutting to Steve. "Where do those hands go?" Steve barked.

You quickly extended them out in front of you, back elongating into a long stretch, ass presented high and legs spread. A vision of submission on their bed, Eddie and Steve wanted to bust right there at the sight.

"Harrington," Eddie called in a sing-song voice, playful and excited. Your eyes squeezed shut. "Do you want the honors first?"

"Oh no, Eddie, I insist." Steve responded just as playfully, he sat on the bed in front of you, taking your wrists into his hands, pinning them tight.

It was comfier than the ropes or cuffs, but more embarrassing this way. Now Steve would watch you, command your eyes on him while Eddie punished you, reveling in every sob and cry. His favorite show.

"What did you pick, Ed?" Steve asked, eyes lighting up at the reveal behind you. You didn't dare look back, eyes on Steve's face. "Oh, Daddy's really mad at you. You bad, bad girl." 

You whined behind the gag, desperately. You knew you'd fucked up with the assignments, but you didn't think they'd be this mad with you.

"You know I don't like liars, Stevie."  Eddie snipped. Then you felt it, the cool leather behind you, rubbing on the naked skin of your ass and thighs.

You wanted to groan, whine and stomp your feet in protest. He went with the paddle, of course he went with the paddle. It was worse than the belt, heavier and covered a bigger area, sure to leave you covered in welts and tender for days to come.

"Oh, I know you don't." Steve grinned, eyes cutting down at you. His grip on your wrist tightened, seeing your wide, rounded eyes shining up at him, gag lodged in your pretty mouth. His cock lurched at the sight.

"I don't like it when my little, good girl," Eddie brought the paddle down unexpectedly, no warning or warm up, just a resounding crack that echoed off the walls. You lurched forward, a muffled gasp behind the gag. "Acts so bad." Eddie swung his arms back, paddle connecting with the meat of your ass.

Your hips jumped at the impact, a blossoming pink that slowly faded into red with each hit. You were bouncing, dancing from foot to foot with each slow hit.

"You lied to me and Steve about your school work," Eddie grunted, hitting where your cheeks met your thighs. You howled behind the gag, tears streaming down your cheeks.

Steve gripped your hands tightly, watching you closely. "Eyes on me." Steve snapped. You lifted your gaze, bleary through tears to meet his.

"You've ruined your grade," Eddie continued, two hard successions of the paddle, each covering each cheek in a stinging, sharp hit that had you crying.

"You disrespect me and Steve," You sobbed, snot and tears leaking down your cheeks, pooling to meet the drool that dripped out of your mouth and gathered at your chin.

"And worse of all," Eddie brought the paddle down hard, leaving you screeching, back arching and wrists tugging at Steve's hands to recoil in a deep child's pose, a submissive, defensive stance. Steve's grip tightened, and you were sure there would be bruises.

"You disrespected yourself." Eddie snapped, the paddle came down hard again. It hurt, stung, made you sob and ache, but somehow, Eddie's words- his disappointed tone, hurt and sad, hurt you worse.

You sobbed hard, shoulders shaking and posture slouching, caving into yourself. Steve felt your wrists fall limp in his hands, face buried into the mattress. He loosened his grip, looking up at Eddie carefully. Eddie rolled the paddle over in his hands, watching you carefully. Steve could tell he was contemplating finishing out, neither one of them expected you to break this early.

"I'm not going to have you hurt yourself like this." Eddie continued after a moment, bringing the paddle back down against your red cheeks, softer this time. You still jumped, sobbing into the duvet. "You do your school work and your assignments. You know you're supposed to."

"'M sowry." You blubbered through the gag, drool spilling out with the fat tears rolling down your cheeks.

"Speak up." Eddie snapped, his hand cracking down on your hot flesh. "Get your head up."

You lifted your face out of the mattress, eyes meeting Steve's through your wet vision. "'M s-sorry." You tried again, the gag making it awkward and muffled.

Steve cooed down at you, wiping a tear away with the pad of his thumb. "Aw, c'mon, Ed," He tutted down at you. "She's sorry, aren't you?"

You nodded fiercely, before resting your cheek back onto the mattress, looking over your shoulder back at Eddie. He stood, arms crossed over his chest with his paddle still in hand, staring down at you. You clenched around nothing. Fuck, he looked so good when he was angry, so mean and controlling; such a contrast to his normal light hearted, sweet personality.

Eddie hummed, hand lightly skating over your hot flesh, squeezing the fat of your reddened cheeks gently. "You gonna do your school work?" He asked. You nodded fiercely. "You gonna lie to me or Steve again?" Your head bobbed.

"Good." Eddie nodded. You felt his fingers move lower, swiping between your legs. You whined, wiggling back onto his fingers desperately for friction. Eddie smirked, looking up at Steve. "Good girl." He cooed.

"You are so good aren't you?" Steve mumbled to you. He let go of your hands, placing them on either side of your face sweetly, pulling you closer to him. His nose nearly touched yours, grinning at you, ruined and desperate between his hands. "So good when you want to be. So sweet, too."

Eddie hummed, pulling his fingers out of you and into his mouth, eyes closing and groaning loud, the tangy taste of your spend on his fingers. "Mmm, so good. Fuck." Eddie's eyes zoned in on your pussy, needy and wet.

It took every ounce of restraint he had not to dive into you, devour that beautiful pussy until you were screaming out for more. But he couldn't, not this time. He'd brought the pain, and it was Steve's turn to bring you pleasure; a reward for taking your punishment so well. Eddie couldn't deprive him of that.

Eddie's eyes met Steve's, nodding that they should switch places. Steve swung his legs off the bed, allowing you a moment to collapse, sniffle into the comfort of the duvet. Eddie caught your face before you could relax fully, kneeling on the mattress and cupping your jaw in one hand, free hand undoing your gag. He pulled the ball out of your mouth, the sting of drool attached from your mouth to the ball spilling and pooling on the mattress, wet matter mixing with your tears.

"How are you feeling?" Eddie asked, dark eyes scanning over your features, a silent check in. His grip was still on your jaw, fingers massaging your cheeks gently after the removal of the gag. Your heart swelled at the gesture.

"Good." You sniffled, eyes lifting up to him, rounded and watery. Eddie tilted his head to the side, brows furrowed sternly at you. You gave him a soft smile. "Still green."

"Look at you." Eddie cooed, a dimpled grin spreading over his features and warming you from the inside out. "My best girl, aren't you?"

Eddie was good like this. Good about making you feel better after your punishments, letting you know it's all still play. Sometimes it was easy to feel real about them, feel like that was their true feelings towards you. Steve was still learning to get out of that headspace, still a little unsure of when he let himself slowly fade. Sometimes, it was too early, interrupting the scene, others too far after. Thankfully, for the three of you, you had Eddie- the ever "seasoned veteran of kinky shit" as he liked to call himself.

"Fuck, baby," Steve groaned, harshly gripping your hot ass cheeks, pulling them apart. "You're drenched aren't you?"

You blushed, letting your face fall towards your arms, an attempt at hiding your embarrassment. Eddie caught your face easily, firm grip on your chin. "Did Steve not just ask you a question?" He tilted his head to the side in challenge.

"Yes, sir." You muttered, heat blooming down your neck from your cheeks, you knew your chest would be showing now.

"Not really a punishment if you enjoyed it, now is it, Princess?" Steve grinned.

You gasped before you could reply, his thick fingers pushing straight into your sopping hole, adding another and scissoring your walls, spreading them open gently. Your mouth water, hips writing against his fingers because you knew what that meant. He was opening you up, getting you ready so he could stuff you full of his cock.

"It was." You whined, bottom lip jutting out, eyes flitting up to Eddie. "I promise it was a good punishment. I learned my lesson, Daddy."

Eddie's face melted, eyes crinkling when he grinned at you. "Oh, honey," He cooed, leaning down so his nose brushed yours. You purred, nuzzling against him sweetly "You're not done yet."

Your heart dropped, face following with it, while Eddie rolled off the bed. Steve snickered behind you, amber eyes flashing with excitement, tracking Eddie's movements towards the bedside drawer.

"But I-"

"You didn't think you'd get off that easy, did you?" Eddie asked, tilting his head to the side, shaking his curls at you dumbly. Your face burned. "Steve, she really thought that was it?" He mocked you.

Steve's fingers were still working inside you, opening you up. "Surely, you're smarter than that." Steve snipped. "I mean, baby, c'mon, Ed would've at least used the cane if the spanking was it."

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment, bottom lip trembling. "At least." Eddie parroted with a smirk. He turned around and your heart skipped, seeing the bottle of lube in your hand. Fuck.

Eddie popped the cap open to the lube, slowly walking towards you. You looked over your shoulder, neck straining at the stretch. "I told you baby," Eddie said calmly. "That ass is mine tonight."

You gulped, hearing Steve's mocking chuckles, his fingers jamming deep inside you, making you gasp at the curl. You tried to focus on how he was making you feel, instead of Eddie's thick thumb that was circling your rear hole.

It wasn't that you didn't like anal, or didn't do it often; you were in a throuple for fucksake, of course anal came with the territory. You were use to the boys filling you up, if your mouth wasn't occupying one of their dicks, your ass was their choice. The issue was, it was always Steve. Steve wasn't small by any means, but less... girth than Eddie's cock and more gentle. Eddie had fucked you up the ass a total of four times, once to try, once for his birthday, and the other two as punishment. He always made sure you were lubed up, ready to take him so it didn't hurt- and it didn't really, besides the usual stretch, it just made you feel... uncomfortably full. When Eddie fucked your ass, he was in your guts, you were sure of it- you could feel it. It was a little invasive, overstimulating.

The cold shock of the lube dripping in a fat glob onto your tightest hole made you shiver, the sensation quickly replaced by Eddie's pointer finger, circling your hole, pressing inward just to the knuckle. You clenched, eyes screwing shut.

A sharp slap to your already stinging cheek pulled you away, leaving you gasping, turning back and pouting over your shoulder. Steve glared at you. "Relax. You know better." He warned, brow lifted carefully at you.

You took a shuddered, regulating breath, rocking back on your heels to try and relax into the touch. Your skin burned with every pull and knead of Eddie or Steve's hand on your inflamed cheeks, making you whimper, toes curling with sensation while Steve expertly punched that sensitive spot within you.

"Hm," Eddie groaned, fingers lazily pumping in and out of you. "Think you should get her good and relaxed, Stevie." Eddie nodded towards you. "Finish her off for me. Before we really get started."

You shuddered at the lingering threat in the air, a foreshadowing of what's to come. You were granted only a moment before Steve's tongue was on your cunt, lapping and suckling at your clit until you let out a strangled gasp. His tongue was quick, fluttering kitten licks to your clit while his fingers fucked you.

Your orgasm was close, fiery and fierce with a rapid approach that left you reeling, abs clenching and walls clamping around Steve's expert fingers before you gushed, flooding over his mouth and hand. He licked you up easily, smirking at every spasming aftershock that followed.

You were panting, gripping the sheets with a white knuckled vigor, chest rising and falling against the warmed cotton of the bed. Eddie grinned, arms crossed over his chest, half lidded eyes watching you with blown pupils.

"Good boy," Eddie grinned down at Steve. "Let me have a taste, fuck." Eddie moaned, leaning over to capture Steve's lips on his before he could wipe your juices off his mouth. Eddie was drunk on your taste, moaning into Steve's lips while their tongues swirled against each other, the tangy taste of you swapping between their lips.

You whimpered, craning your neck back to look over your shoulder, thighs clenching at the sight of the two men, kissing with a passionate fury. Eddie's eyes caught yours, breaking the kiss with a trail of saliva connecting off their lips. He looked down at you carefully, grinning salaciously, teeth bared.

"What do you think, Steve? Have her stand up or have her ride you? Your choice." Eddie offered with a slight nod of his head for you.

"Ooh," Steve laughed, eyebrows raising in delight. "Ya know, Ed, I just really think I want her to ride me." Steve's eyes narrowed in on you. "Because I know how much you love that, baby."

You bit back a huff accompanied with an eye roll that rivaled Steve's best. You didn't enjoy riding them, either one, especially when they double stuffed you like this. You always got weak kneed, legs shaking and struggling to keep up a good pace, almost always collapsing while they finished you out, cooing and mocking at you.

"I think that's a great idea." Eddie grinned, eyes never leaving yours with a wide eyed glare. "Go on then. Get ready to ride, baby."

That's how you found yourself, kneeled with your thighs on either side of Steve's hips, his hands on your waist, legs dangling off the edge of the bed while Eddie pumped himself between them. He watched as you bounced slowly, sinking further and further down onto Steve's cock, adjusting yourself there before he continued.

Eddie squirted the lube back on his fingers, smearing it over his angry cock. "You ready for me?" Eddie asked. You nodded slowly, eyes pinched in pleasure, nails sinking into Steve's shoulders with every slow drag of your hips up and down his cock.

"You remember your safe words?" Eddie asked again, brow lifting carefully. You nodded with a gentle whimper. "Lemme hear them." Eddie demanded, grinning when you repeated them back to him, voice high pitched and nasally; pathetic, how he loved it.

"Good girl." Eddie purred, shuffling closer. He took his free hand, letting it store down your spine gently. "Hold still for me for just a second, alright? Steve, hold her for me."

Steve's arms, thick and strong pulled around your waist, circling you and pressing a palm into the middle of your back, folding you forward so you were sunk against him, still wrapped around his cock but ass leaned forward and presented to Eddie. It had taken the three of you a while to perfect the position.

Eddie pumped himself, circling the rim of your open, tight hole before pushing the head in. You gasped, clenching and spine straightening at the sensation. Steve groaned, low and throaty at the feeling of your clamped walls strangling his cock, arms tightening around you to hold you close, keep you from wiggling while Eddie sunk himself in, slowly, hips rolling and inching closer and closer until you were full of him.

You could barely move, barely lift your hips to continue riding Steve while they double teamed you, too full of sensation and brain a hazy fog that overtook your senses.

"Fuck, what a good girl." Eddie hissed, hips stroking at a much gentler pace than he usually did against you, watching the lube and his own spend gather at the base of your tight hole. His mouth watered, pupils blown at the sight. "Isn't she a good girl?"

"Oh, the best." Steve huffed, breath strangled and trapped in his chest. You were slouched against him, drooling onto his shoulder, eyes glazed while his hips thrusted into yours. At this point, he and Eddie were practically tossing you back and forth with their thrusts, a bounce from one to the other like a teeter-totter.

"She's the best girl. She- oh, baby, right there- feels so, so good." Steve clenched his jaw, hissing at the way his cock was already twitching.

You mewled, shuddering with another wave of ecstasy release with every stoke of their cocks hitting your g-spots. It was overwhelming, leaving you shaking and breaths shuddering, head spinning at the feeling.

"Fuck, Ed, 'm close." Steve hissed, calves rising and flexing to thrust up into you.

"Me too." Eddie muttered, tongue poking out in concentration while he rocked his hips a little faster, a little harder, still holding back from riding you out like he normally did. He didn't want to hurt you.

Steve's hand left your waist, reaching out to join Eddie's on your hips, their thick hands intertwining to lace together while they chased their own highs, spilling into each of your holes with sputtered groans and gasps of air, singing your praises through shuddered breaths.

You were leaking both of them, letting it pool together beneath you on the sheets when they pulled out. Steve held you close, smattering your hair line with kisses and soothing words while Eddie wet a cloth.

"Such a good girl aren't you?" Steve cooed, nose rubbing into your sweaty hair line. "You took that so well, didn't you? You did. My best girl, look at you."

You whined, lightly gripping onto his chests. You felt underwater, removed and lightyears away from the two men in front of you, their doting kisses and sweet words lying over you like a soothing balm.

"She's gone." Steve muttered to Eddie, chest rumbling against your cheek.

"Go get her some water or gatorade." Eddie said, puddle brown eyes furrowed in concern when they looked at you. "Think that'll help. I'll clean her up."

Steve left you, propped on a pillow while you slowly blinked up at Eddie, his wild curls cascading down his face like a curtain over you, tickling your cheeks lightly. "Hi, sweet girl." Eddie cooed lightly. "You alright?"

You nodded vacantly, eyes looking past him and towards the ceiling, pupils blown. "You with me right now, sweetheart? Feel alright?" Eddie asked, brows creasing in concern.

"'M alright." You muttered, airy and breathy response.

Eddie's hand cupped your cheek, calloused thumb brushing over your tear stained cheek bone. "I'm gonna clean you up, ok, baby?" Eddie cooed. "Daddy's got ya, sweet girl. You just relax."

You shuddered, system shocking and screeching with alarm when the cold cloth brushed through your aching folds, swiping and cleaning you up gently. You whimpered loudly in protest, hips squirming away from the rag. Eddie's eyes flickered to yours, relief pulling at his tight chest when he saw your furrowed brow and pouting lips, some expression at least.

"'S alright, baby. I gotcha." Eddie cooed, free hand rubbing your thigh, while he cleaned you delicately.

Steve returned, lifting you up in his arms, pressing the plastic rim of the bottle to your lips, feeding it to you in slow slips. You let them baby you like that, more than content at their sweet, coddling ministrations. Your two mean men that could turn so easily from malicious to caring, for you.

You let them squeeze you between them, lying down on your tummy, hands under the pillow while their hands intertwined and rested on your lower back.

"You gonna do your assignments from now on?" Eddie asked, propped on his side to face you, free hand holding Steve's and the other resting under his head.

You nodded slowly, eyes pulling open before fluttering closed. "I will, Daddy." You muttered, sleepily. "Promise."

"You better." Steve chided, his thumb brushing down your spine, rubbing over your soft skin then Eddie's knuckles. "Or I'll use Daddy's cane on you every night for a week, understand?"

That was enough to get your eyes wretched open, wide eyed and timidly looking up at him. Steve glared at you, challenging and warning all wrapped up in those amber eyes, brow furrowed in a look that told you he was not playing. "I understand." You squeaked, shrinking under his glare.

"I'm sorry for lying." You shuddered, breath hitching in your throat, the swell of tears returning to your chest. "I-I'll talk to my professor about making up the work, and-and I'll make sure to bring home everything, and-"

Eddie shushed you gently, hand running down the locks of your hair, petting them soothingly. "Baby, it's alright. We're good for now." He said calmly. "Just relax. Let yourself rest, ok? I know you're tired."

You sunk back into the pillow slowly, eyes fluttering back shut, succumbing to the overwhelming tiredness that was racking your body. You felt the boys kiss you, pillowy lips on either side of your face muttering gentle words before leaning over you, kissing each other in a wet smooch that had you grinning softly. It was just the three of you for now, in your own little oasis. Two men and their little (sometimes bad, most of the time good) girl.

[atinylittlepain]

Hiya! I love your writing so much it's amazing. Can I request Joel and Reader! smut? Maybe angry s3x? I loveeeee grumpy Joel. They would def be primal and rough and fast about it too...oof. I'm not too good at coming up with plotlines haha

Anyways thank you so much if you do! :3

oof, this was fun to write

gif by @tightjeansjavi

Menace

Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel Miller masterlist

When Joel refuses to join her at the bar, she has a good time by herself. But he just can't stay away.

warnings | 18+ SMUT, rough sex, little angst, little fluff, mostly just smut tho

...........................

If Joel were here right now, she knows he wouldn’t like the looks of things one bit. Not because she’s in any sort of danger, the only real danger at the Tipsy Bison is whatever that cheap grog is that they keep stewing in the back. No, what Joel wouldn’t like to see is her having a good time, for once, without him. And that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

It’s a Friday night in Jackson, a town in which she can actually enjoy the luxury of having a real Friday night after a long week of patrol shifts. Joel, in all his brooding glory, had rejected her invitation to go out to the bar, telling her that all he wanted was some “fucking peace and quiet.” She hadn’t let that get her down, though, scoffing at his petulant grumbles and heading out by herself. And she was having a damn good time too.

“Goddamn, girl. Giving me a run for my money.” She grins at the man, idly spinning her cue stick in her hands as she walks along the pool table. 

“You better shape up then, or you’re gonna owe me another drink.” The man throws his head back in a laugh at that, his eyes crinkling up as he looks at her. His name is Teddy, one of the younger men around town who also works patrol shifts. She had a shift with him earlier in the week, and he had been warm and welcoming to her, still pretty new to the swing of things. It doesn’t take a genius to see that he’s flirting with her, and she’s happy to play along for now, knowing she’s got her grump of a man waiting for her back home, probably snoring in bed already. Love is strange, but she is Joel’s and he is most certainly hers, and she wouldn’t have it any other way. But for now, a little banter with this sweet boy isn’t going to hurt anyone.

“Watch and learn, Teddy. I’m gonna show you how it’s done.” The man whistles low as she bends over the table, lining her cue stick up with her target. So what if she’s hamming it up a bit? Shimmying her hips and flicking her hair out of her face. A small crowd has gathered around the table to watch her smoke this kid, and she’s enjoying the feeling of letting loose after being tensed up for so long.

She moves cool and slick around the table, driving home her last three balls before setting her sights on the eightball. It looks like a tough shot, and she revels in her confidence that she can sink it, feeling Teddy’s eyes sweeping down the slope of her back as she arches over the table. There’s a hushed swell of laughter and a few whoops when she hits the eightball clean into a pocket, and she turns and shoots Teddy a crooked smile.

“Pay up, boy. I want the good stuff this time, top shelf only.” Teddy barks out another laugh, but it quickly dissolves as his eyes flit just behind her. She feels him before she sees him, the solid warmth of him pressing up behind her and a broad palm splaying over her shoulder. He’s certainly not snoring in bed.

“You’ll have to take a rain check, son. She’s needed at home right now.” The low rasp of his voice tells her all she needs to know. He saw her, and the little moves she was making, and now, Joel Miller is pissed.

She can see the bob of Teddy’s throat as he swallows, nodding jerkily. She winces at the crack in his voice when he says that’s alright, he’ll see her around. Joel may be a grump, but he’s also a scary grump when he wants to be, like right about now as he’s steering her out of the bar with his hand still on her shoulder.

“Putting on a little show for all them townsfolk, darlin?” His southern drawl always gets headier, slower, when he’s angry. It’s never a good sign when she starts having a hard time pulling his honey-thick words apart. But she refuses to let him intimidate her, huffing as they trudge through town toward their house.

“It was just a little fun, Joel. I know you’re not too familiar with the concept, but—”

“Oh, you’re wrong about that, darlin. Me and you? We’re about to have a whole lot of fun.” So it’s like that. She can’t help the excited shiver that runs up her spine at his words, heat already starting to lick at her core. She’s known him long enough to know that when Joel is pissed at her, it can only go one of two ways. Sometimes, he’ll shut down and sulk off, keeping his distance until he’s gotten some sense back in his body to come talk to her. But other times, his anger flirts over into a jagged lust, only simmering to cool when they’re both too sore to bitch at each other anymore, a heaving tangle of sweat and pleasure. And judging by the hard flush she can see peeking out of his shirt collar as they get home, she’d put money on this being one of those other times.

The instant the front door closes behind her, he’s pressing her back up against it, swallowing her gasp as he licks into her mouth. She presses her palms into his chest to try to get some space, but he’s immovable, dragging his lips down her neck and nudging the collar of her shirt out of the way to suck searing bruises into her collarbone. She tugs harshly at his hair to get him to finally take a breath.

“Hey, hey. What about Ellie?” 

“At Dina’s.” And with those few gruff, syllables, he’s back on her, shoving his jean-clad thigh between her legs and pressing up hard into her core, her hips immediately grinding down to seek any kind of relief to the quick-building heat blooming up her spine. 

“You’re something else, you know that? Saw you acting so tough, so cool down at the bar.” His words are a smear across her chest as he works the buttons of her shirt open, dipping down to mouth at the fabric of her bra the moment he gets access, her back arching up into his mouth as she lets out a long sigh of his name. He chuckles into her skin.

“None of them know how sweet you get like this, though. S’just for me, right?” She chokes on a breath as his hand wrenches down the front of her jeans, rough fingers swiping through the slick pooling between her folds. He drags his nose up her cheek as he works one, then two of his fingers into her, her knees buckling when he crooks his digits just so, her cunt clenching hard.

“Asked you a question, darlin. Who’s all this for, huh?” His fingers are pumping into her relentlessly, the squelching noise of each thrust embarrassingly lewd and loud. It’s all she can do to give him a response.

“You– it’s all for you– fuck– only for you– it’s– just you– please–” He laughs, the smug bastard, smearing a kiss to her temple as he continues to fuck her with his fingers, the heel of his palm digging just right into her clit.

“That’s right, baby. S’all for me. Think you can give me one just like this? C’mon, know you can. Be good for me. Just for me.” He doesn’t have to tell her twice, her cunt already spasming around his fingers as she lets out a broken cry, pleasure crashing over her in ebbs and flows as he fucks her through it. He finally relents when her preening whines turn into whimpers, pulling his hand away and sucking his fingers into his mouth as she slumps back against the door.

She’s a complete mess, her shirt hanging loosely off her arms, the cups of her bra shoved down to let her tits spill out, while Joel stands before her still fully clothed, a contrast that sets heat simmering in her belly all over again. She closes the gap between them this time, pressing in for a demanding kiss as she shrugs her shirt off the rest of the way, fumbling behind her back to snap the clasp of her bra open as well. Joel’s hands are on her right away, palming the swell of her tits before squeezing just harshly enough to make her gasp into his mouth, her fingers stuttering where she was working on the buttons of his shirt. He seems to get the hint, swatting her hands away from his half undone shirt and tugging it the rest of the way off by the collar. 

“I need you right now, darlin. Got me fucking aching here.” 

They’re a stumbling swirl of limbs as they fumble upstairs to their bedroom, banging into walls and slamming doors along the way. 

He gets her exactly where he wants her, on all fours at the end of the bed, and she yelps as he wrenches her jeans and panties down her thighs. She cranes her neck over her shoulder, catching a glimpse of him, his jeans rucked down just enough for him to free his cock as he fists himself over her, his other palm kneading the swell of her ass. He nudges his swollen tip through her folds and she shivers at the sensation, trying to press her hips back into him to get more of anything. Joel doesn’t seem to like that though, laying a harsh smack to her ass that makes her nearly jump out of his hold.

“Mind your manners, darlin. Don’t get greedy on me.” She huffs, trying to look back over her shoulder at him but he presses a rough palm between her shoulder blades, forcing her back to bow until she’s collapsing onto her arms, cheek smushed into the sheets. 

He presses into her with one hard thrust, his hips grinding into the plush of her ass as she lets out a broken cry.

“Fuck– always so tight for me– fucking made for me, huh?” She can’t respond to his breathless words, not with the brutal pace he’s setting, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room as he pumps into her, his leaking tip hitting a spot inside her that has her mouth opening in a silent scream. Suddenly, he’s snaking his palm up her chest, pressing between her tits to pull her up until her back is snug against the warmth of his chest, his lips pressed hotly to the shell of her ear.

“Tell me you’re mine, darlin. Wanna hear you say it.” She lets out a low moan as his hand dips down, the rough pads of his fingers dragging across her clit. Meanwhile, he’s skirted his other palm up to her throat, curling his fingers lightly, a faint but firm pressure making her mind go hazy. 

“I’m yours– I’m all yours– please, I’m so close–” His thrusts are getting shorter, more of a deep grind up inside her that has her clenching hard around him.

“Want you to say my name when you come, darlin. Make a fucking mess– c’mon, that’s it.” It becomes too much all at once, and she finds herself letting out a panting sigh of his name as pleasure finally snaps inside her. His hands slacken where they had been holding her up and she collapses forward, resting her teary face in her arms as he fucks her through her high.

“So perfect for me, darlin– shit– just a little more, huh? Fucking close.” His hips start to stutter against hers, and she does her best to press back against him.

“Please, Joel– want it so bad– c’mon, baby, give it to me.” He lets out a low curse, pulling out and fisting himself once, twice, before he’s painting her ass with his spend. He lets out a hard breath before flopping down next to her on the bed, dragging a hand down his flushed face. She winces as she lets her legs splay out, slinking down onto her stomach. There will be bruises tomorrow, without a doubt. She crooks her face to the side to look at him, still panting, eyes scrunched closed.

“Feel better now?” He cracks one eye open, glancing at her before fully turning on his side to steal a kiss from her lips.

“Fucking menace. Yes, I feel better now.” With that, he flops onto his back again, crossing his arms behind his head. She shimmies over to rest her head on his chest, her chin propped up on his sternum so she can look at him. 

“You better get me cleaned up, Miller. Made a damn mess.” He huffs, bringing one hand down and smacking the curve of her ass, making her yelp in surprise. She tries to kiss away the all too smug grin on his face, but it’s still there when she pulls back.

“I will. But first, I gotta know. Where the hell did you learn to play pool like that?” She lets out an exasperated laugh at that.

“Come with me to the bar next Friday night and I’ll tell you.” A low grumble resounds through his chest, but he’s still smiling as he shakes his head at her.

“You’re on, darlin. I should warn you though. I’m gonna whoop your ass.”

“Looking forward to it, Miller.”

[nelkcats]

Build a bear

Danny went to build his own teddy bear with his parents out of town, Jazz suggested that he could make them say they loved him and record it for life, which would help him when he went to college or finally decides to reveal himself to them, that idea reassured him more than it seemed.

His sister probably wanted him to have a "support bear" like her own, Bearbert, and honestly his old teddy bear was good enough, but maybe a new one with a love reminder would help.

Amity was a small town, so the build a bear shops weren't really there, at least he had found one near Jersey, it was a long drive but he was willing to convince his parents to go.

When they finally arrived at the location, using the excuse of a ghost infestation to lure them; he tried to make a recording of his parents love words but all he ends up recording is "Let's destroy that ectoplasmic scum, he's a threat" with a lot of little lengthy things about Phantom and what they would like to do to him, wich only made him sad.

The last thing that could be heard on the recording was "I just wanted them to tell me they loved me, to remember it when they tie me to that laboratory table" in frustration.

Danny decides to give up and puts the teddy back on the shelf, the manager looks at him sadly and he just pays for it, he did not wanted to cause the employee more trouble; at the end he went back to the GAV, empty-handed and trying to remind himself that his parents love him, even if their priorities are weird and misplaced.

Days later, the Waynes drag Damian into the same store, Damian grumbling the entire way that he didn't need kid's stuff.

While the demon boy complains about the uselessness of everything, Jason notices a green teddy bear, with a jumpsuit full of stars and a sign that says "Boo", it was obviously made to remind a ghost, and he was amused by the "dead" bear so he asked the manager the price, she denies and comments that it was already paid for, but the boy never took it.

More surprised than curious, Jason holds the bear in his arms, squeezing it, it was fluffy; that caused the last thing that was recorded to be played. His blood ran cold hearing what sound like a couple of crazy doctors preparing a vivisection, this in itself was terrible, but the worst part is that the boy's voice at the end, although a little damaged, implied that he was the experiment.

Reluctantly he decided to take the bear to his brothers, this is a mystery in the form of a teddy bear and they are not going to let it go. Even if it's not directly a cry for help, he recognizes incompetent parents and a dangerous situation when he sees one.

[deathbecomesthem]

Eddie Munson x Best friend!reader | ~1K

Summary: It's the perfect solution. You need a place to stay, he needs someone to help with the rent.

*There be some male masturbation below.

A/N: I don't know. I was supposed to be writing something else. I just think they're neat. Will there be more? Who fucking knows, I certainly don't.

---

It was a stupid idea born out of necessity. All of the most memorable things in life begin that way. You needed somewhere cheap and immediately available and his roommate ran off with the bartender he met less than a month ago. These are the days to remember - early 20s when life can change at the flick of a zippo in a dark alleyway. That’s what got Gareth, the girl that lit his cigarette. He never stopped seeing her in the soft glow of that low flame, and it left Eddie without someone to pay the other half of the rent.

And there you were, broken hearted and bleeding in front of him. In need. And he could push away those thoughts that linger in his quiet and empty bedroom in the privacy of the night. He could make a space for you, he could help you. So he did. It all came together over the hashbrowns and pancakes seasoned by your tears. Your best friend, Eddie, made a proposal that would save the day and be perfect for both of you.

Eddie Munson - your hero with a spare room and the promise of an escape from that motherfucking dickhead that stained your sheets with that girl from his office.

—

It’s the first full day, and Eddie is standing in his own kitchen with his cock pressed painfully hard against his fly at the sight of you bending down to fish the griddle out from the low cupboard next to the oven. He bites the inside of his cheek until the taste of metal hits the tip of his tongue. He adjusts himself and clears his throat while he watches your hips jiggle. The blue and purple wings of the butterfly on the soft love handle above your left him seem to flap with the movement of your arms.

“Uh, when the fuck did you get that?” Eddie’s question startles you. Your head bangs against the shelf in the cupboard your elbow deep into. “Oh shit, are you ok?”

“Yeah,” you back out of the small space and stand with your hand on the top of your head, “I think I’ll make it.” 

The first thing you notice when you look at Eddie is the red at the top of his ears. This is something you rarely get to see because of the way his shaggy curls hang around his face. This morning his hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail at the base of his neck, and those hot ears are on full display. You think, I wonder what they would feel like against my tongue,

These are the kinds of thoughts that you’ve been having for Eddie for a long time. Months. Years maybe. These are the kinds of thoughts that make this entire arraignment the worst idea. These are the kinds of thoughts that keep you company in the dark when you chase after secret pleasure in the privacy of your own touch.

“So.” Eddie’s hands are gripping the back of the vinyl chair on the opposite side of the small kitchen table from where you're standing. “So, when did you get that tattoo?”

Your eyebrows pinch together in thought, but your hand travels back to touch the marked skin before your mind catches up. It feels hot at the thought of his gaze scanning across it. You can practically feel the inked skin dancing against your fingers.

“Oh! God, I forget it’s there.” You smile and can feel heat creep across your skin at not only the question, but also in the way his eyes look black. The way he shifts from foot to foot. You can’t help but let your own eyes scan across the inked skin of his arm while you think of how to answer. “I got it a few months ago. It’s stupid. A butterfly? It’s embarrassing.”

Eddie sighs and smiles. He turns his head a little. It’s a shy kind of gesture you’ve seen him do before, but without his hair to obscure his lips you can see that secret lift of his lips. It makes your knees feel weak to see it, and you think about running your fingers across his cheek. You think about his eyes fluttering at your soft touch.

“It suits you. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” Eddie clears his throat again and turns his head to look out of the small window above the kitchen sink. He doesn’t know that this gives you the perfect view of his long neck. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”

“Oh, ok. I’m making some homefries,” at your words, Eddie meets your gaze again and it knocks the breath out of you for a beat. Your next words come out on an exhale, and you want to shrink to the size of a grain of salt so he’ll stop looking at you, “how do you like your eggs?”

“However you make them, Sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.” You watch Eddie spin on his heels and walk awkwardly down the hallway before returning to the task at hand. Coffee, homefries, and eggs as a thank you to Eddie for letting you move in so quickly. You laugh at the shake in your hands and think about how stupid you are for letting your imagination run wild like this. This is Eddie, your Eddie. These foolish fantasies need to chill out. You can’t live like this.

—

Eddie’s head is pressed against the tile in the shower, warm water flows down his body in rivulets. He thinks about the way the purples and blues danced on your skin. The way those pretty lined stretch marks bracket around it. He thinks about the way his fingers would feel pressed into that skin, and squeezes his aching cock the way he wants to squeeze you. 

The water runs down his face. Warm water runs into and out of his open mouth while he imagines the way those purple and blue marks dance under him. The way his fingers feel holding your hips still as his cock reaches deeper and deeper inside of you.

This was the worst idea he’s ever had, but he can’t care right now.

[mawofthemagnetar]

Father's Day

“So, hold on a minute,” Iskall held his hands up, “back up, because I must have missed that. You’re a FATHER?”

“Well, yeah?” Jevin shrugged, scrolling through his comm, “What’s so hard about that to believe?”

Iskall, by way of a reply, simply gestured at Jevin’s person from his head to his slimy feet.

“So? Okay, yeah, I guess it- is a little hard to fathom. I do, uh, have a certain- aura of coolness around me. But yeah, no, I’m a dad. And a damn good one, too. I mean, a slime-dad, which is a little different than a regular dad. But for a slime-dad, I’m top-shelf. Of course.”

“Uh-huh. And how does a slime-dad differ from a regular dad?” Iskall folded his arms.

“I don’t gotta, uh, chase after my kids as much as you guys do. They’re pretty much ready to go once they hit full-size. I do my bit by checking up on them periodically. Anyway, point is, I gotta go. My kids are throwing a father’s day bash, and I can’t be late.”

Iskall rubbed his temples.

“Okay, couple questions. One, father’s day was three months ago. Two, is there a Missus Jevin you’ve got stashed away somewhere? Or a Mister Jevin? Or-“

“…Why would another person be involved?” Jevin asked, tilting his head with a squish of slime, “Like, literally, why? Who needs help to become a parent?”

“…Uh…you know what? No. You want to learn about the parrots and the bats, go talk to Keralis.”

“Sure, whatever. Anyway, to answer your second question, it’s ‘cause if you try to do father’s day on the actual, like, day, renting a big enough hall is stupid expensive and it’s all just kind of dumb. And a hassle. So we host it whenever.”

Jevin glanced up from his comm.

“Wanna come? Meet my kids, I mean.”

Iskall rubbed his forehead.

“Sure, why not. Hit me with it.”

They tapped their comms together, and Jevin clacked his jaw together- the slime equivalent of a smile.

“Okay, so uh…All my kids know you guys as their aunts and uncles. So if they start calling you “auntie Iskall-“

“-Yeah, yeah, I know. I’m used to it.” Iskall nodded, “Should I wear something special?” 

Jevin waved a hand. 

“Nah, don’t worry about it. You’re fine as you are. Anyway, let’s go. Not good to keep my kids waiting!” 

And Jevin tapped a few options on his comm and vanished. 

<iJevin has left the game.> 

Iskall shrugged, tapped over to his server list, and selected the option for the Hub, with the teleport coordinates visible in the centre. 

He tapped it, and vanished. 

<Iskall85 has left the game.>

When Iskall opened his eyes again, he was standing outside a colossal building, looking like some kind of conference centre. It was made of smooth quartz, with a fake parking lot full of fake vehicles that had clearly taken some builder a long time to put together. 

Jevin was standing there, tapping his sneaker impatiently, the blue slime slosh-slosh-sloshing against the ground. 

“Alright, c’mon, let’s get moving.” Jevin huffed, “We’re already a couple minutes late, and my kids worked really hard to put this on.” 

“I’m coming, I’m coming…” Iskall muttered, brushing off his pants and following Jevin towards the doors.

Iskall was assuming that Jevin’s family would have set up a few tables in a corner. He was a slime; and the way Jevin was talking, Iskall had assumed a big family. Maybe ten kids? That would be a pretty big family. 

Then Jevin and Iskall stepped into the conference hall. 

“HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, DAD!” 

Several thousand slimes bellowed all at once, a wall of sound so deafening that Iskall could feel his bionic eye nearly shake out of its housing. 

He blinked his one eye, darting it around the room in shock. There were hundreds of small tables around which sat an unfathomable number of slimes in all colours of the rainbow. The room was a riot of wild fashion choices, and a deafening rumble of clattering bones and squelching bodies.

“I- I-” Iskall stammered, as he reached up and tightened the nut holding his robotic eye onto his skull’s mounting post.  

“HEY EVERYONE!” Jevin shouted back, “THANK YOU!” 

“Is that Uncle Iskall?” a deep voice said eagerly, “It’s so nice to meet you!” 

“You have…THOUSANDS…of children. Not ten. Not twenty. Not even a hundred. THOUSANDS.” Iskall stammered. 

“Yeah. I’m, uh, the father of all slime hybrids. It’s not a big deal, to be honest. Some other slime would’ve absorbed a skeleton and decided to think about itself if I hadn’t.” Jevin shrugged. 

“All. Of them. ALL OF THEM.” Iskall clutched his head in his hands.

“Yeah? It’s not that difficult. You just, like, shed some slime on a large enough pile of biomass, it’ll grow into a kid. How is this so confusing for you? That’s probably where humans come from.” Jevin shrugged. 

He rubbed his slimy hands together with a hideous squelch, and started traveling through the room, eagerly greeting each and every one of his kids. 

Iskall staggered over to the snack table, piled high with compost, cinderblocks, and beer. He popped a bottle, and started chugging it.

[c0eu4]

OP81 | My princess ☁︎

Summary: Y/n goes out for the day and Oscar has to take care of Olivia.

Warning: Dad Oscar, fluff

A/N: Olivia is 14 months old. I loved to write this one 🤭🤭 I've never had the opportunity to do babysitting so maybe everything I wrote is wrong.. 😔

MASTERLIST requests are open

''You look stunning baby.'' He looks at her up and down, his cheek turning red because of her beauty. She giggled and approached him to kiss him. ''Call me if you need anything about Olivia.'' The little one who was playing in the living room heard her name and walked awkwardly towards her parents. ''Ma! Ma! Ma!'' She stretches her arms towards her mother, her little fingers moving from open to close. Her mother takes her in her arms instinctively, kissing her forehead. ''Mama will be back soon sweetie.''

She kissed Olivia's cheek, leaving a trace of red lipstick. Olivia wants to kiss her mother too but drooling on her cheek more than anything else. She wiped the drool away with the back of her hand, trying to erase the red lipstick with her thumb.

She pecked Oscar's red lips again, putting Olivia in his arms. ''I won't be back late.'' Oscar waves at her, Olivia doing the same as Y/n closed the door behind her.

Olivia grabs onto her dad's t-shirt and pulls on it. ''Da! Yum! Yum!'' Olivia is a very virulent child. She loves talking and running around since she could.

''Yes, yes darling.'' He takes away her little hands from his t-shirt and she takes the opportunity to play with his fingers. ''Don't you want to play with your toy?'' He asked her while she nibbled his thumb. He sits her on the carpet, next to her multicolored cubes.

He goes back to the kitchen, looking for Olivia's baby food. She's not decided to play with her toys and gets up with difficulty then runs awkwardly towards her dad. She grabs onto his leg and he almost knocks her down.

''Oh my god 'Via.'' He takes her in his arms again as she laughs, thinking that's funny. ''If your mother had seen this she would have killed me.'' He sits her on the kitchen island, keeping an eye on her while she's now playing with the plant in the middle of the island.

This lunch, it's carrot puree with pieces of apple and a small pastry. He puts the pot of puree in the microwave and prepares a bottle of water. He places Olivia in her high chair who is already starting to bang her hands on it, showing her impatience. ''Don't hurt yourself, sweetie.'' He takes the warm puree and places it in front of her with a spoon. ''Mama said that now you eat by yourself.''

He brings everything he needs to the table and sits next to Olivia. She puts her fingers in her puree and Oscar takes her fingers away several times, putting the spoon in her hand. But she really decided to eat with her fingers.

He sighs, really not having any patience right now. ''You tell nothing to you mom.'' And he starts to feed her with the spoon. She is happy that her daddy has broken down and she has nothing to do but swallow the food.

Each time, he brings the spoon back to his lip, tasting the food to prevent it from being too hot. ''I hope you don't blame me for stealing your food.'' She grabs Oscar's arm, almost making the spoon fall to the floor. '''Via, I'm obligat or you'll burn yourself.'' She simply answers with a little shrill cry that breaks Oscar's ears.

He stops fighting with her and puts the spoon back in her hand. The little one, seeing that she has to fend by herself again, uses her fingers again to feed herself. Oscar takes a photo of her and sends it to Y/n who's probably eating too with her friends.

He pulls the apple in two and tries to peel it but quickly gives up when he almost cuts himself. He cuts one part into small cubes and keeps the other for later. He places the small cubes on the shelf and removes her empty pot. He puts it in the trash and puts the spoon in the dishwasher.

He is careful that she does not choke on the small pieces of cubes and once finished, he gives her a small piece from the corner of a croissant. He took her back in his arms, her too busy trying to eat her piece of croissants. He placed her back on the carpet and let her get busy.

In the meantime, he prepares his own meal. He looks at his food plan on his phone and prepares his salad that his trainer has planned for him. He continues to observe Olivia in the living room, who has abandoned her piece of croissants to play with Barbies. She jabbers incomprehensible words and sentences and Oscar's heart melts.

He eats, scrolling on his Instagram. He is itching to post a photo of Olivia. But they agreed to keep her away from the camera and any stuff connected to the network.

He still decides to post a photo of his little princess, eating. The same one he sent to her mom. But of course, he posted it in his private story, only his closest friends will see her.

He clears his plate and cleans the dishes that are lying around. He returns to Olivia and plays with her a little. He makes little constructions with her multicolored cubes which she enjoys destroying as soon as he's finished. They played for a few minutes, then he took her back in his arms.

She yawn lazily, knowing that it's the time of her nap. ''Aww my little girl is tired?'' She nodded at her dad, leading her head against the base of his neck.

''You want to sleep with dada?'' She nodded energetically. He holds her in his arms and she chooses a book from the small shelf filled with children's books. He helps her take the book and lies down on the couch, placing her on his chest. She cuddles against him, her small brown hair tickling his jaw. She ends up putting herself between his arm and his chest, half on top of him and her head resting on his shoulder.

He begins to read the story to her and little Olivia who runs around and talks all the time becomes little Olivia who is half asleep and struggles to keep her eyes open.

She quickly falls asleep, before Oscar is even halfway through the story. He closes the book and places it on the coffee table, grabbing the remote at the same time.

He searches on Netflix and starts a movie, not too loud to avoid waking up the little one who is sleeping peacefully against her dad.

Time passes quickly and a few minutes after the end of the movie, Oscar just has time to turn everything off and look at his phone that his little princess is already waking up.

She yawns and cuddles her daddy once again, hiding her little head in the crook of his neck.

''We go to the park?'' He proposed to her, who quickly stands up and starts sputtering incomprehensible words again.

He takes her off the sofa and she follows him to the entrance hall. He puts on her pink coat and her little white scarf. He puts on her little gloves with difficulty and her beanie with a little fluffy pompom. He puts on his own jacket and opens the front door. She goes out first, almost running towards the elevator. He locks the door behind him and joins her.

He calls the elevator, gets in and waits to go down to the ground floor, Olivia slipped her hand into Oscar's. They both go out to face the cold of winter, their cheeks quickly turning red from the cold air. He let her play in the small park at the bottom of the building, watching her from a bench. She plays with the thin layer of snow, running around every wheres, back and forth between her father and the many small buildings at her disposal.

When she starts to get too tired and they start to get too cold, he decides it's time to go home. They walk in reverse until they find themself in their apartment. He removes all the layers of clothes from his daughter who rushes towards the kitchen, knowing that it's time for her snack.

Oscar puts his things in the cupboard, hers not far away, and joins her in the kitchen. He put her back in her high chair, giving her her bottle of water. He pours himself a glass of water and looks in the fridge for a baby yogurt. He takes one at random, flavours banana, and takes the other half of the lunch's apple.

He cuts the apple into small pieces, placing them on his tablet. She begins to eat them, putting several pieces in her mouth. ''You're going to choke.'' He takes a few cubes out of her little mouth and gives her her yogurt. This time, she doesn't fight and tries to eat with her spoon. Even if she gets it everywhere and Oscar thinks to himself that he's going to have to clean it all up.

As soon as she has finished eating everything, she starts babbling again, probably to get off the chair. Oscar gets her off the chair and she runs to her toys in the living room while he cleans up all the mess she made. He does the few dishes that are lying around and goes back to sit on the sofa.

Olivia comes to him and pulls on his pants. ''Yé! Yé!'' she said to her dad, her little hands trying to hold on to his knee. ''What do you want, little monster?'' She answers with a little shrill cry that breaks Oscar's ears again. ''Stop screaming like that 'Via, for real.'' she answers him by laughing, trying to get on the couch.

He carried her under her armpits and helped her get on the sofa, making her sit on him. She plays with the bottom of his t-shirt, playfully tugging on it. She tries to talk to him, saying words that are always incomprehensible.

While they are talking, the front door opens. Y/n places her things in the closet, takes off her shoes and heads straight to the living room, only to find her daughter talking with her dad.

When Olivia sees Y/n, she stops talking to her father and like magic, she manages to get off the couch by herself (while a few hours ago she was making a little crisis because her father didn't help her get off it.) She runs to hold on to her leg and instinctively, Y/n takes her in her arms and covers her with kisses.

Oscar also gets up and takes the time to kiss Y/n before anything else. ''Weren't you too annoying with dada?'' She asks Olivia who responds with yet another shrill cry. Y/n kisses her forehead and places her back on the ground. She sits on the sofa, already cuddling Oscar who tells her about their day.

[theta-walti]

Graceful Mishaps

Summary: R is a bit clumsy. Some small moments when the r is clumsy and Jessie taking care of her

Warnings: Fluff, fluff and more fluff!

A/N: Jessie is still in Chelsea for this fic! i had fun, thank you for the idea for my debut fic!

Word count: 1153

everyone on the team knows that your clumsy, you won't admit it but it's true, every little move can cause you to stumble. Just like this morning, when you were getting ready you tripped over the clothes that you had carelessly tossed aside moments before, or the coffee that you accidentally knocked over when your making breakfast yesterday, or the lastest accident in the changing rooms where you tied your shoelaces together and it lead to a comical trip when you attempt to run, that lead to the argument between you and jessie just moments later.

"l'm not that clumsy!" you said, trying to defend yourself

"Yes you are! you just triped because of your shoelaces!" Jessie aruged back as she crossed her arms

"That was an accident!"

"exactly!" Jessie yelled back

"tell me then! when am l that clumsy?"

Jessie thought for a while then she spoke with a little smirk on the edage of her lips

"do you remember grocery shopping last week?"

Hearing the question a memory flooded back into your mind

You and Jessie were at the shops, picking up things for the upcoming week. Jessie was holding your hand tightly, and you were trying your hardest not to wonder off, She had a firm grip, and you had a hard time keeping up with her, but you think that she was purposefully walking fast to keep you on your toes.

"Jessie, how much longer are we going to be here? I'm hungry and l want to go home." you said as we turned into the snack aisle.

"Don't be dramatic, you ate before we came here. We're almost done. I just need to get some chips and then we can go." She replied as her eyes scaned the crisps shelf debating on which one she should get.

"But I'm hungry now! And we have chips at home, can't we just go pay for everything and go?" you pouted.

She let go of your hand and walked a few feet in front of you. you saw her pick up a bag of tortilla chips and walk back, then she throw it in the the trolly, which is right in front of you. you went to take a step forward to take Jessie's hand again when you tripped over one of the wheels of the trolly. You fell to the ground, landing right on your face and Jessie bursted out laughing.

"I knew those shoes weren't a good idea, they make you too clumsy." She teased.

"Not my fault. The trolly was in my way." you retorted with a scowl, getting up off the ground and dusted the non-existent dust off.

"Maybe we should just get some bandages. We both know it's inevitable that you'll hurt yourself before the night is over." Jessie said with a smirk on her face.

You looked at her, trying to figure out if she was joking or not. When you decided that she was just being sarcastic, you shot her a playful glare.

"Just because you're right doesn't mean that you have to say it." you responded, crossing you arms.

She laughed, wrapping her arm around your waist and pulling you into her.

"I think we can find some band-aids at home." She teased again." Come on, let's go get the rest of the stuff and get out of here." She suggested, and you nodded.

"That's fine with me. The faster we leave, the faster I get food." You agreed and Jessie chuckled.

"Oh that was one time!" Your tried to argue back.

"One time? What about the kitchen plates?" The smirk on Jessie's face went wider as she spoke.

You blushed as another memory flooded into your mind

It was a nice evening, you and Jessie were preparing dinner together. Jessie had taken charge of chopping vegetables while you were in charge of setting the table, However, as you reached for the plates in the cabinet, your hand slipped, and you ended up dropping a stack of plates, causing them to crash onto the counter with a loud clatter.

"Oh shit, " you muttered, and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you immediately bent down to pick up the pieces.

Jessie rushed over immediately when she heard the loud crash, concern and worry filled on her face. "Are you okay?" she asked, kneeling down beside you to help clean up the mess.

You nodded, feeling flustered by your clumsiness. "Yeah, just a little accident," you replied sheepishly.

As you continued to clean up, Jessie couldn't help but notice your hands. Your finger was cut by the glass. She immediately stood up and dragged you up with her

"You're bleeding, come on"

*she started to walk towards the bathroom, still holding your injured hand*

"Where-" you looked at your hand and noticed the cut. You must have cut it when you're picking up the plates, "but the plates-"

"You're more important, now sit down"

Jessie said as she walked over to the sink and bent sown to grab the first aid kit. When she returned, she just asked for your hand and started to take care of it. "You know, I think you're even more accident-prone in the kitchen than I am," she teased gently, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

You couldn't help but laugh at her comment, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "I guess that's one way to put it," you replied, still feeling a bit embarrassed.

When Jessie finished, she put a kiss on the back of your hand and smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Yea, thank you, baby." You kissed Jessie's lips for a brief second and grinned, Jessie blushed and connected their lips again, and they stayed like that for a while before she pulled away, both of you a bit breathless "Come on, we still have dinner to finish and some plates to clean up"

You grinned and followed Jessie out of the bathroom and back into the kitchen.

"That's night ended very well thank you very much!" You tried to defend yourself again.

"That's not what l'm trying to say! You really should be more careful baby" Jessie said as she stepped forward, closer to you as she wrapped her arms around you

"I know, jess, l know." You leaned into the touch, and gradually, it turned into a hug as you wrapped your arms around her neck. sudden, the doors of the changing room opened, and Guro's head popped in.

"Come on love birds! Your late and Emma is asking why your taking so long to get changed!" Guro's Norwegian accent shown though as she spoke, you and Jessie both broke apart of the hug and chuckled.

"Race you to the field!" Jessie yelled as she got a head start, racing out of the changing rooms, you followed, and of cause, since you still haven't re-tied your laces, your face is on the ground once more.

A/N: l hope you like it! The end is a bit rush but l think it's good! I hope you enjoy it and feel free to send more requests!! This is theta, signing out, see you later!

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (1/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.

Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)

Word Count: 3.1k

series masterlist

A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.

The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today. 

The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money. 

A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects. 

You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.

You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.

Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither. 

You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.

Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you. 

You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom. 

And just at that moment, the apartment door opens. 

"What the hell?"

The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.

"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.

"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.

"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature. 

The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.

"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.

You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"

Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.

"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."

He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."

"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"

"This is not your apartment!"

Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.

"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops. 

Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"

The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"

The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"

Friends? Bought it in his name?

"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.

"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?

"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.

"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.

Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."

On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier. 

"I can explain." Fuck.

While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.

"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"

While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.

"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?

"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."

You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.

Well, it is, in theory. 

"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"

"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"

He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."

Sharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.

The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-

"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer. 

"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically. 

Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"

You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."

"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"

Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.

When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"

His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.

"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.

"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."

There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you. 

Private is private.

And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.

"All right."

Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.

Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-

"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."

"Dry wine is gross."

Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.

"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.

He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."

He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod. 

"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."

Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt. 

As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."

Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin. 

Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person. 

A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all. 

Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?

You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.

Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible. 

And apart from that - you don't have any other choice. 

Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.

That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.

next part

[mariclerc]

Fighter (pt.2) | cl16

Summary: where you have a serious accident on the track and Charles's memories of it aren't the most pleasant ones. Warning: an injured and somewhat frustrated reader, caring and gentle Charles and a lot of fluff this time.

a/n: I hope you like this part, this is a short one! please let me know if you want a third one!!

Part 1

Sunlight streams through the window, illuminating a cozy bedroom. Clothes are scattered across a chair, and a half-eaten bowl of cereal sits on the bedside table. You walk slowly out of the bathroom, your movements stiff and a grimace on your face. You're wearing a simple white t-shirt and some sweatpants, but the center of attention it's a bright pink neck brace. It's been exactly almost two weeks since your big accident on the track and you find it very difficult to do normal things like change your clothes or even go to the bathroom.

You try to reach for your back as a wave of dizziness washes over you, making you stumbling slightly, but a strong hand steadies you... Charles appears behind you, concern etched on his face while holding your slippers in his hand.

“Hey, careful there princess. Let's take it slow, okay?” he says in a soft voice while you lean into his touch, a small sigh escaping from your lips.

You mumble slightly. “I hate feeling so useless.”

Charles helps you into the bed and sits beside you, his brow furrowed. “Don't be silly chérie, you're recovering from a nasty crash... It's okay to need help for a while, you know?”

You cry a little as you try to pull the t-shirt over your head. “Ugh, even this is impossible. Stupid neck brace.”

Charles reaches out, his touch gentle as he unfastens the back of the t-shirt. He slowly pulls it down your arms, his movements careful not to aggravate your injuries. “Let me do it, you need to rest your arms babe.”

You feel a warmth spread through your chest despite the frustration. It's a different kind of warmth than the one that ignites during a perfectly executed pit stop or a thrilling overtake... It's the warmth of care, of having someone there to support you when you're at your most vulnerable state.

A fresh t-shirt materializes in Charles' hands, and he helps you slide your arms in. He leans close, his voice a soft murmur.

“How about I get you some painkillers and water? Oh, maybe a light lunch too!”

You look up at him, at warm and grateful smile tugging in the corners of your lips. “You really are the best pit crew a girl could ask for... Even if you are from the rival team.”

Charles grins, his eyes twinkling. “You know I'm always happy to help you, right? Now, stay put. I'll be back in a flash darling.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead, the touch sending shivers down your spine, he takes the half-eaten bowl of cereal in his hands and leaves the room. Even with a messed-up neck and a bruised ego, you know that you're so lucky to have him by your side.

You settle back against the pillows, a newfound sense of peace washing over your body.

***

Charles disappears into the kitchen, and you take a moment to try and stretch your stiff muscles, something that is somewhat impossible. The silence is broken by a muffled crash from the kitchen... Your eyes widen a fraction.

“Of course, there's always a challenge with him.” you muttered to yourself.

Internally you have a debate whether calling out to him, but the thought of him fussing over you just because you only want a glass of water is too much. You try to push yourself up from the bed, wincing at the sharp tug in your lower back.

“Stubborn neck brace, stubborn muscles... Maybe I can manage just this once.” you say while clenching your teeth.

Just as you manages to get one leg over the edge of the bed, a flustered Charles bursts back in, holding a tray with a glass of water and a bowl of warm and comforting soup. “Okay, crisis averted... I almost knocked over the entire spice rack trying to get the ibuprofen out of the top shelf, but nothing to worry about.”

He sees you halfway out of the bed and rushes over to your side.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! What are you doing amour? I told you to stay put.” He says alarmed.

You winces once again, frustrated tears welling up in your eyes. “I just wanted a glass of water! I hate feeling so helpless all the single time, I can't even get myself water!”

Charles softens immediately, pulling you back onto the bed and gently tucking you in. “Hey, hey, It's okay! I understand... Here, let me help you sit up baby.” he says with a soothing voice.

He props you against the pillows with a comforting hand on your shoulder. Then, a mischievous glint appears in his eyes.

“Besides, a champion driver like you deserves a pit crew that can handle a little pressure. How about a race to see who can finish their lunch first?”

You let out a watery laugh, the tension easing from your shoulders. “You're on. But don't underestimate the recovery power of a champion!”

Charles grins, placing the tray softly on your lap. “Never underestimate the pit crew either, sweetheart.”

You take a cautious sip of the water, the coolness soothing your parched throat. You winces again, a flicker of pain shooting through your neck, Charles notices that instantly.

“Easy there amour. Does it still hurt? Maybe we should grab another ice pack, that helped last night with the pain.” he asked but you shook your head, forcing a little smile.

“No, I'm okay charlie. It's just a twinge, besides, I don't want to slow down in our race, champion recovery, remember?”

You scoop a bite of soup with your spoon, the small movement it's such a challenge with the stiff muscles. Charles watches you, his gaze filled with concern and something deeper.

“You know that winning isn't everything here, right? How about we take this slow? You focus on getting better while I handle everything else. Deal?”

You hesitate, the competitive fire in your eyes dimming slightly. The thought of being completely dependent on Charles sometimes feels suffocating, even though you know he means well. He cares a lot about you and doing this kind of thing for you is not a bother to him at all.

“Maybe a compromise? You handle the tricky stuff, but for things like reaching for the water, I can try. It'll help me get my strength back faster, right?”

Charles considers your proposal, his eyes searching yours. He sees the determination sparkling beneath the vulnerability. “Alright, feisty one, but you promise to be careful? Don't try to be the heroine, okay?” he let out a soft sigh. “If you feel in trouble or find it difficult, don't be afraid to tell me, okay?” he says softly and you nod partially, since you can't do it so effusively.

You beams, a genuine smile that reaches your eyes. “It's a deal! Now, about that soup... What if we make it a relay race? You feed me a spoonful of soup and then I try to grab the water myself, It's a champion teamwork!” you say and giggled softly.

Charles lets out a laugh, the tension leaving his shoulders. He scoops a spoonful of soup, his eyes twinkling.

“Alright sweetheart, you're on! But remember, even teamwork has a winning team. And today that's us.”

He carefully brings the spoon to your lips, and you lean in. As you savors the warm soup, a feeling of warmth blooms in your chest that has nothing to do with the broth... It's the warmth of love, of shared determination, and the knowledge that they'll face this recovery, just like they face every challenge, together.

***

You take a spoonful of the soup, Charles' hand steady beside the spoon, the warmth spreads through your body, both from the food and from the way he's taking care of you. You finish the spoonful with a satisfied sigh, Charles look at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

“Alright bébé, your turn for the water challenge... Remember, if you feel like you can't do it, you can tell me to help you, slow and steady wins the race.”

He places the glass on the nightstand within reach, just out of easy reach for you with the neck brace. You take a deep breath, summoning your inner champion.

“Okay... Here goes nothing.” you say focused.

You gingerly reaches out with your right hand, the movement sending a jolt of pain through your back. You grit your teeth, determined not to give up. Slowly, inch by agonizing inch, your fingers finally brush the cool glass.

A triumphant smile spreads across your face... Just as you're about to grab it, a sharp pain shoots through your neck, making your hand flinch. The glass wobbles precariously on the nightstand.

You gasped and Charles reacts instantly, reaching out to catch the glass before it spills. Relief washes over him as he sets it back down safely.

“It's okay baby, I told to be careful. I think that was too much too soon.” he say worried.

You winces again, a wave of frustration washing over you. Tears well up in your eyes, blurring your vision.

“I just... I don't like to feel useless, I can't even do a simple thing... When I will be back to normal Charles?” you asked in a whisper.

Charles sits beside you on the bed, pulling your body into a gentle hug. He rests his chin on top of your head, his voice soft and reassuring. ”It's okay not to be okay baby, healing takes some time! Don't push yourself too hard, just focus on getting better sweetcheeks, that's the most important race right now.”

He picks up the glass of water and brings it to your lips again. This time, there's a tenderness in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat.

“So how about we call a truce on the race? You focus on getting some rest, and I'll handle the hard pit stop duties, you like bringing you food, water and helping you with your clothes... Deal?”

You lean into his touch, a wave of peace washing over you. The frustration melts away, replaced by a quiet gratitude. “Deal... Thank you so much Charles, you're the best pit crew and boyfriend a girl could ask for, even if you sometimes underestimates her recovery power.” you say softly and shyly.

Charles chuckles, a warm sound that fills the room. ”Never underestimate a champion's determination, even a recovering one. Now, drink up princess. You need your strength for tomorrow's physiotherapy battle.”

You take a slow sip of the water, savoring the cool refreshment... Maybe this forced break from racing isn't so bad after all, the accident may have sidelined you from the track, but in this moment, surrounded by love and laughter, you know your true victory lies in the unwavering support you have by your side. The road to recovery may be long, but with Charles by your side, it's a journey you'll face together, one spoonful, one pit crew story, at a time.