#and said staring at it brought her joy

[saltpepperbeard]

the sweetest, giggliest baby that ever did girl <3 for @darkinerry

BONUS:

[aegonstradwife]

conception | aegon targaryen x reader

summary: anonymous requested; you and aegon have 4 daughters. while aegon is in a meeting they discuss the fact that the king doesn’t yet have a male heir. otto suggests aegon taking a second wife to have a chance at producing an heir. it pisses aegon off that otto would even suggest that.

warnings: talk of general misogyny, established relationship, smut. (riding, creampie.)

a. note: link to the original request.

It's a warm day, perfect for taking the girls out to play in the courtyard. They are glad to be free of their daily lessons, and you of your queenly duties.

One day away from such responsibilities couldn't hurt, and the sun shining down on your grouping had you in higher spirits than you had been for months.

Until you spied your husband stalking his way through the corridor toward you.

Initially, you lit up as you saw Aegon, as did your daughters upon seeing their father; he is so often away from them in council meetings or tending to other kingly duties.

For Aegon, seeing his wife and daughters makes him happier than he's been all day. It's a rare sight, seeing him smile so warmly, especially these days. But sadly, it doesn't last long.

The girls may not notice, as Aegon scoops the youngest into his arms, but you sure as hells do.

That menacing look, the red rimming his eyes. Telltale signs that Aegon isn't feeling his best, which unfortunately have been more prevalent of late.

"Aegon?" You lay a hand on your husband's arm, squeezing. "What's the matter, love?"

His violet eyes lay upon your hand squeezing his arm, and he tries to keep his terrible mood in check, so as not to take it out on you or the children. "There's nothing wrong, my dear."

But he refuses to meet your gaze as he presses a kiss to your daughter's forehead.

"Nothing?" You raise your brows, studying him. Something is wrong. Perhaps something you'd better not discuss around the girls....

"Ladies, why don't we break for lunch?" You announce, herding your daughters to one of the maids nearby.

With one last kiss to her chubby cheek, Aegon sets the youngest down and allows her to waddle off with the rest to the kitchens.

"Talk to me, my love." Once alone, you run your hands up Aegon's arms to his shoulders, kneading. "What happened? I thought you were meant to be at council all day...."

The king grumbles, frustrated to be questioned by you, but at the same time relishing the feeling of your talented hands kneading the tension out of his shoulders. Of which there is a lot.

His gaze meets yours, and there's a hint of annoyance in it, though whether at you or other matters, you can't initially tell.

".... Otto has brought a most pressing matter to the council today."

The breath he takes next is measured, trying to keep his composure, though he finds doing so much easier in your presence.

"What?" You frown, any number of terrible things flashing through your mind. All of them ending with the palace in rubble, your family ruined as Rhaenyra takes the throne. "Is it her? What awful thing has she done now?"

You dig your fingers ferociously into Aegon's shoulders.

A small pained noise escapes him, though he tries not to wince as he places his hands over yours to loosen your grip.

"It's not Rhaenyra." He continues to stare at you, his eyes full of an exhaustion you wish you could wipe away. "It's Otto."

You smooth your fingers apologetically over his shoulders, soothing the hurt. "So you said. What did he say?"

Aegon closes his eyes, that furrow between his brows relaxing for just a moment, as your fingers stroke him, before returning. He pauses, unsure how you're going to take the words that must next fall from his lips. Knowing they might hurt you. "He said we need a son, that we desperately need a son and soon...."

Your stomach falls. You knew this was coming - for years now you've only been able to produce girls. With every birth, Aegon's joy only grew, and your worry along with it.

What if you couldn't produce an heir at all? What if -

"We'll keep trying," you say resolutely. "I know I can give you a son. Just let's keep trying, please...."

"That's not all that was mentioned." It looks like it physically pains Aegon to tell you this. "The matter of a second wife was also raised, to try and help produce a male heir...."

You know husbands - especially kings - often take second wives when the first is unable to birth a son. Gods, it will about kill you if Aegon turns to that ...

At a loss for what to say, and feeling tears threatening to spill if you utter so much as a word, you cling speechlessly to Aegon, hoping for him to make it all better.

His hand is under your chin, cupping gently, forcing you to look at him. "But.... what if.... what if I don't care for a son?"

Shaken by this declaration, all thoughts of crying banished in worry, you clap a hand over your husband's mouth and glance around for any passing servants. "Do not say that, Aegon! What if someone were to hear...?"

A determined hand encircling your wrist, he pulls your fingers gently from his mouth, a grave look on his face. "And if they did? Why is it so important they think we care about a son? Why.... why couldn't one of our daughters be queen? Rhaenyra seems to think she has some claim to the throne. Why not our eldest?"

That intense stare does not waiver as he continues to peer at you.

"Aegon, please, not here..."

The cogs in your head are turning, as you grab him by the hand and pull him along into a spare room, Aegon following silently along.

It seems he, too, is thinking about what he's just said as he closes the door behind you. His expression is still earnest when he turns to face you.

You turn to face him at the same time, arms crossed. "You're saying you would name Syryn as your successor, as queen?"

"Yes," comes his simple yet fervent reply. "If Rhaenyra believes Viserys named her heir, then surely I can do the same?"

You chew thoughtfully at your cheek. "Otto will never accept it. I doubt the smallfolk would either. Isn't that why we're in this situation in the first place?"

"You think they won't accept it?" Aegon asks, cornering you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "I'll make them accept it. I'm the king, damnit. I don't want a son, I don't need a son. I have everything I need already."

The conviction with which he says it almost makes you believe it. "And.... you don't want to at least keep trying? For a son? Or even another daughter?"

Seeing your husband all worked up like this is making you feel.... things.

Aegon notices the immediate change in your expression, the way you look at him, your need for him.

"We will keep trying.... but not because I want a son."

His hands relinquish their hold on your shoulders to instead grab for your hips, gripping them firmly and pulling you flush against him. That earnest look in his eyes is now dark with desire, gaze roaming hungrily over your body.

Your hands come to sweetly cradle his jaw, humming contentedly as your body is pulled to his. "I love hearing you talk about our family this way. I love knowing you love us and will do anything to protect us, as king."

Twining a lock of his hair around your finger, you look up at him through your lashes. "I would love to give you another child, Aegon. Son or daughter."

He purrs as your fingers weave further into his hair, his hands tightening their grasp on your hips, pulling you ever - impossibly - closer.

Aegon leans down, breath hot against your ear, and breathes, "Then you'd better be prepared to keep trying.... over, and over and over again."

You can't help but grin, ecstatic at Aegon's joy over your family. You wrap your arms tightly around his shoulders and kiss him; a biting kiss, teeth clashing, tongues sliding over each other.

"We should try now," you gasp, tugging at the back of Aegon's jacket. "While the girls are at lunch and you have some time away from the council."

Aegon groans agonizingly into your mouth before he pulls away, gaze now even darker.

"Such a desperate little thing, aren't you? Wanting to take advantage of your husband while he can spare the time," he teases, pulling off his jacket and tossing it aside.

Even just those words - Aegon calling you desperate, seeing you for what you truly are - are enough to make your legs tremble.

"Oh please, Aegon. Right here, I need it here."

The room you've found yourselves in is bare, with naught more than a fireplace and a few suits of armor dotting the perimeter.

As such, you pull him back toward the wall and lean yourself against it, fingers dipping under the collar of his exposed tunic. "I need to feel you, my king."

Aegon presses you back against the wall, your back aligning with the cool stones, his body now pressed firmly against yours. His lips find your neck with a huff of hot air, kissing and nibbling, hands grabbing for every bit of you they can reach.

"You're always so needy, so desperate," he mutters. "I'll give you what you need, my wife. I'll give you everything you desire."

As his hands work their way over you, yours do the same over him. His body has the perfect amount of cushion to it - being held against him is the most comfortable feeling in the world.

"Aegon...." You whisper, lifting a leg to wrap it high around his waist. "Give me another child. Please."

A deep growl escapes him at the wrap of your leg around him and he presses forward, wanting to make sure you can feel every searing inch of him against you.

"You want another child, do you?" His lips blaze a scorching path to the collar of your dress, which he tugs out of the way with his teeth. "You want me to fill you up and give you what you need?"

In a hurry to have him inside of you, you gather your skirts and pull them up with a quick nod. "Let's not waste too much time. Someone will be looking for one of us sooner or later."

He whines as your gown is hiked up, revealing the smooth, creamy skin of your legs and the heat between them. He runs his hands over those legs, leaving burning trails in their wake.

"So impatient," he murmurs, "but I have to agree with you."

He hunches down, positioning himself properly between your legs, and curls his hands around the backs of your thighs. "Wrap your legs around my waist, love, and hold on tight."

With your back still anchored against the wall, you wrap your legs tightly around your husband's hips and allow him to lift you from the ground. Your hands are still moving all over him, eventually skimming down to his trousers, which you start to undo the buckle of.

Aegon grunts his approval, allowing you to unbuckle his breeches. His gaze never leaves yours, though, as his breaths grow shallow.

"Gods, you're going to be the death of me one day," he sighs, hands squeezing at your thighs. "You always know how to drive me absolutely wild."

At this angle, it's hard to get your hand all the way inside the opening of Aegon's pants. But you do manage to circle your fingers haphazardly around your husband's half-hard cock and give him a few solid pumps to bring him to full hardness.

"And the way to drive you wild is to ask you to fill me full of your babies, isn't it, Aegon?"

His breath hitches at the feeling of your hand around him, a frustrated groan falling from his lips. His entire body quivers with desire as he leans in. "You know me too well. The thought of filling you with my seed, of giving you more children.... it's enough to drive any man wild."

"Any man?" You 'tsk.' "Doesn't the thought of just 'any' man getting me pregnant make you jealous, my king?"

With your legs already around his hips, it's hard to get the waist of his trousers low enough to allow his erection to pop out and Aegon has to help you, shoving the constricting material down so that the head of his cock can nudge at your folds. "I'm wet for you.... can you feel it?"

Though he doesn't say it aloud, he feels a sharp pang of jealousy at your words, a possessive need surging through him. He growls, hands gripping your thighs even tighter, eyes practically blazing with desire.

"Don't play with me. I know you're teasing, but it's enough to make me lose control." He leans in even closer, breath blistering against your skin. "Put me inside, my love. Let me feel you."

Arching your back away from the wall, you position yourself so that Aegon's cockhead is pressing insistently at your opening. "…. should I make you beg to fill me up?"

That simple question sets his body quivering with yearning for you. His fingers dig into your skin as he tries to hold on to his composure, but failing all the while.

"Please…." He groans, his voice low and hoarse. "Please, my love, let me fill you up. I need it, I need you."

"Good boy," you sigh, and after a quick peck of a kiss to his nose, you begin to relax the muscles in your back, allowing your wet cunt to slide down on Aegon's cock, welcoming him inside of you.

Aegon's eyes roll back in overwhelming pleasure at the feeling of your warm, wet heat around him. With a sharp inhale, he redoubles his hold on your thighs, pulling you down onto him as he begins to move with you, matching your rhythm perfectly. The sound of skin slapping against skin echoes through the room, mingling with your moan and Aegon's desperate grunts. Aegon's face finds your neck again as he continues to drag you down onto him with abandon, deeper and harder with each thrust.

"You feel so good, my love." His voice is tremulous, hands beginning to shake where they hold you up. "I'm not going to stop until I get you pregnant again."

And it all feels so dirty, the hem of your gown trapped around your waist as your husband pulls you down by your hips, driving himself into you. Your hands try to grapple for purchase at the wall beside your head, but then settle for resting your wrists at Aegon's shoulders, tips of your fingers clawing and scratching at the back of his neck.

"Please, Aegon…we don't have long. Someone might come looking soon…" At this point, you don't even care if you climax, as long as Aegon's seed finds its home deep inside of you.

In response, Aegon nods, hips now moving even faster as he feels your nails digging into his neck. He can feel his own release building, evidenced by the way his chest heaves and his face has gone pink all over. The need to give you what you want is overwhelming for him.

"D-Don't worry, my love," he gasps. "I won't last long like this."

And with that, he gives one final, powerful thrust, burying himself deep as he empties himself inside of you, shouting your name like a war cry.

There are few things in this world you enjoy more than the feeling of Aegon's warm seed splashing inside of you. You hum, eyes rolling back, as the king spends himself inside you.

He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest. "I love you," he gasps, with a kiss to your temple. "And I love our daughters. Fuck a male heir. Syryn will be queen."

Capturing his lips in another kiss, you run your hands gladly up and down his chest. "Syryn will make a great queen. She already bosses the other girls around like it's her job."

Aegon chuckles, pulling back to look down at you with a gleam in his eye. "I think she takes after her mother in that regard."

[vivwritesfics]

Hand Print

Carlos has these big strong sexy hands. He uses them to grip her ass in sex, leaves a hand print seen by Lando at the beach.

Warnings: smut, P in V, biting, marking

@biancathecool had the idea, I brought it to life lmaoooo

It made so much sense that he was strong enough for this, now. With all of the cycling he did, Carlos had been in the gym, working out his arms. Keeping his proportions the same.

She loved it. Loved the way it felt to have his strong arms wrapped around her. It was a turn on, actually. Cuddling with Carlos never lasted long when she could feel his muscles against her.

Fuck, she just wanted to bite him. Bite his strong, tanned arms. The joys of having an athlete boyfriend.

Where she liked biting her boyfriend, leaving gentle, consensual bite marks on his skin, Carlos liked to hold her ass.

Well, not just hold. His grip on her, on her hips, thighs, anywhere he could get a hold of. The way his tight grip left her skin with delightful bruises was just the cherry on top.

This time around, Carlos held her ass. He gripped the flesh as she rode him, her moans filling the room. "Fuck," he grunted and squeezed tighter, matching the way she was squeezing him, cunt gripping his cock.

It wasn't often their time away coincided with Lando, Carlos's best friend on the grid. They knew they were supposed to be going to the private beach with Lando and his new girlfriend, but the minute she put on that bikini, he had to have her.

And the feeling of her cumming around his cock was so fucking worth it. Even if she had to take a few extra minutes to fix her hair and makeup before they headed to the beach.

She didn't notice the handprint Carlos had left behind as she pulled her new bikini bottoms over her ass. Carlos just caught a glimpse of it as she pulled her beach skirt over the top. Damn, she was so fucking delectable.

Carlos held her as they made their way down to the beach. His big strong arms around her as he carried their things in his other hand. There was, quite literally, nothing better.

"Bit fucking late!" Lando called as they walked over.

Carlos sat their stuff down with a grin. "Got a bit... distracted," he said as she laid out the blanket. He watched as Lando rolled his eyes and she hit his chest.

The beach day started off normal. She laid in the sun, read her book and basked in the feeling of the warmth on her skin, as Carlos laid beside her, tracing patterns across her stomach.

There was no keeping this man away from his girl.

But then Lando had him up and playing football as she chatted to Lando's new girlfriend, getting to know her (it wasn't the first time they'd met, but the first time they'd met she hadn't been serious with Lando. So, Carlos's girl hadn't bothered).

She laid on her stomach as they talked and laughed, hand cushioning her head. "Oh, just wait until they try taking us golfing," she said and the other girl laughed. It seemed she had found a friend.

But this story isn't about friendship. This story is about Carlos and his big, strong hands.

After a good and probably unfair game of football in the sand (knowing the two of them, there was definitely some cheating going on), the boys wandered back over. "Here, baby," she said, handing Carlos a bottle of water. He downed it in one go.

"Thank you, Hermosa," he said as he leaned down to kiss her. It was pure bliss, just like every day with Carlos. But there is always something that interrupts that bliss.

"What the fuck is that on your ass?"

"Why are you staring at my ass, Norris?" She called back, immediately on the defensive. But, as she spoke, she was glaring at her boyfriend.

But Lando was still looking. Defensively, she pulled down her bikini bottoms to cover more of her ass, but in that moment, she only showed off more of the handprint on her ass.

"You guys are freaky as fuck," said Lando as he said beside his girlfriend.

"You haven't seen nothing, Norris."

It was only muttered as she pulled Carlos closer. "What the fuck is on my ass?" She hissed in his ear as she kissed the spot just beneath it.

Carlos flexed his fingers.

"You asshole, that's hot as fuck."

She ended up with a few more that night.

[idkyetxoxo]

Aegon Targaryen - Tethering Ties

Summary - Betrothed by the King's decree to repair a fractured royal lineage, neither finds joy in their union. Tensions flare at dinner, resulting in a violent altercation that leaves her injured. Aegon chooses an unconventional way to apologise, his mouth between her legs.

Pairing - Aegon Targaryen x Strong reader

Warnings - Sexual content (oral f!receiving), violence, mild language

Word count - 2485

Masterlist for Aegon • House of the Dragon General Masterlist.

"Her children are bastards and she is a whore."

The phrase slithered through the hallowed corridors of King's Landing like a serpent, venomous and unrelenting. It clung to my siblings and me like a second skin, an indelible mark of shame etched into our very souls.

I tried to ignore the whispers and stares, but their impact lingered, a heavy burden on my heart. 

My betrothed, Prince Aegon Targaryen, was displeased when he learned of the King's decision. Marrying his firstborn son to his firstborn granddaughter was intended to mend the fragile relationships within our family, but it brought him no joy.

As the carriage rumbled over the cobblestones, the Red Keep loomed ahead, its towering walls a reminder of past glories and present fears. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone. This was not just a homecoming, it was a return to the heart of a nest of vipers.

I accepted the hand of my brother, Jace who looked at me with a pitiful expression, which only deepened my misery. 

"Do not look at me as if I am a wounded pup," I murmured. "I refuse to wallow in despair."

Jace merely shrugged, unable to hide his concern. As I turned, I felt another arm slip into mine. It was my younger brother, Luke, his innocent brown eyes gazing up at me with unwavering trust. His presence was a small comfort.

There was no welcome party awaiting us upon our arrival, an absence that I expected. The grandeur of King's Landing seemed hollow, a silent testament to the tension that permeated the air. 

Instead, we were left to settle into our chambers, the hours dragging by until dinner, where the family would finally convene.

I absentmindedly fingered the pendant around my neck, a dragon, wrought in gold. It was a gift from my mother, a reminder of the legacy I was bound to but today, it felt more like a chain than a symbol of power.

As we entered the dining hall, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken animosity. The long table, laden with lavish dishes, seemed more like a battlefield than a place of familial gathering. 

My betrothed, Aegon, sat beside me, his face a mask of displeasure. Across from us sat my brothers, Jace and Luke.

"Princess," a voice called out, and my head shot up. My eyes turned to my grandsire, the King, who looked withered and worn. "I trust the journey from Dragonstone was well," he continued.

"Yes, Your Grace, the journey was well, tiring but well," I answered, and he smiled at me proudly.

My eyes flicked to my mother, who gave me a reassuring look and a tight-lipped smile. Not a single person in this room was entirely pleased with the arrangement the King had so eagerly requested.

This marriage was supposed to unite our fractured family, but all I could see were the chains it would bind me in. A future of duty, not of choice.

Next, I turned to the Queen, who was looking in my direction but not at me. Her expression was firm as she seemed to be scolding her son in a hushed tone, and he grumbled next to me.

"Princess, I hope you are well," he said, turning to me as his mother looked away. I held back a sigh, clearing my throat before responding. 

"Prince Aegon, it has been quite some time since we've last seen each other," I pointed out, my hand tightening around my chalice as he downed his drink in a single gulp, motioning for it to be refilled.

"Yes, that may have to do with the night your brother maimed mine," he said with a smile as if it were a simple jest.

"You are correct," I said, my grip on the chalice loosening as my confidence returned. "The same night the Queen demanded the eye of my brother in retaliation, the eye of a young boy simply defending himself from heinous accusations you informed your brother of,"

To my surprise, instead of getting angry, Aegon laughed, a loud, boisterous laugh that caught the attention of everyone in the room.

"I am glad to see that the match seems to be faring well," Viserys said, and all I could muster was a polite smile. If only he knew.

"I don't want this," I admitted quietly, feeling his scoff next to me. 

"And you think I do?" he retorted, his tone sharp as I rolled my eyes. 

"All I'm saying is that I am not going to be subdued," I added meeting his gaze head-on. He raised an eyebrow, urging me to continue.

"You may be a prince, but I am a princess," I asserted, my voice steady. "My mother is next in line for the Iron Throne, and if I wish it, I will be after her. I do not plan on being trapped in a castle, producing heirs," I finished, taking a deliberate sip of my drink.

"Oh, my sweet niece," Aegon began. "How you have grown, you do not know the joy it brings me to know my future wife is such a fierce and ambitious lady," he added sincerely.

"I quite appreciate the idea of having such a challenging partner," he whispered the words into my ear, his breath tickling my neck as he pulled away ever so slowly.

Aegon's expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker in his eyes, something that spoke of more than just duty. Was it resentment? Regret? Or something more dangerous? I couldn't tell, and that uncertainty only deepened my unease.

Dinner continued in strained silence, the earlier tension still palpable. Each forced smile and stilted conversation was a reminder of the precarious nature of our situation. 

My mind wandered as time went on.

It didn't take long until dinner had come to an end, and the adults began to retire to their chambers. Only the younger members of the family were left behind, the room now significantly quieter. 

The tension, however, remained.

Aemond, ever the provocateur, fixed his one good eye on Luke, a predatory gleam in his gaze. He raised his goblet with a mocking smile. 

"To the arrangement of my brother Aegon and my niece," he began, his voice dripping with malice. "You have all grown into quite respectable, charming, strong individuals."

My eyes quickly flickered to Jace and Luke, sensing the tension mounting. Jace clenched his jaw, his hand tightening around his goblet, but it was Luke who reacted first.

"What did you say?" Luke's voice trembled with barely contained fury. 

He stood abruptly, knocking his chair back. Aemond's smirk widened, and he rose from his seat, towering over Luke. "You dare deny it?"

In an instant, Luke lunged at Aemond, fists flying. The room erupted into chaos as the two collided, their movements a blur of anger and violence. The sound of fists hitting flesh and furniture crashing to the ground filled the air.

"Enough!" I shouted, trying to intervene, but my voice was drowned out by the tumult.

Jace sprang to his feet, moving to pull Luke off Aemond, but the younger boy was relentless, his fury driving him forward. Aemond fought back with equal ferocity, a cruel smile playing on his lips even as he exchanged blows with Luke.

Before I could react, Aemond's arm swung out wildly, and his fist connected with my face. 

Pain exploded across my cheek, and I stumbled backwards, my vision blurring. Blood trickled from my split lip, and I could taste its metallic tang.

Aegon and Jace reacted simultaneously. Jace leapt at Aemond with a roar, fists flying, while Aegon pulled me back from the fray, his grip firm but gentle. 

"Stay back!" he insisted, his voice tight with anger.

The dining hall descended into utter chaos. Jace and Aemond were locked in a furious struggle, their movements wild and desperate. Aegon kept me shielded behind him, his eyes darting between the brawl.

"Are you alright?" Aegon asked urgently, his hand brushing against my bruised cheek. The anger in his eyes was mixed with worry, a stark contrast to his usual aloof demeanour.

"I'm fine," I managed to reply pushing him away, though my voice shook.

Aegon stepped forward, his presence commanding enough to momentarily halt the fight. 

"Enough!" he roared, grabbing Aemond by the shoulder and pulling him away from Jace.

Aemond struggled against Aegon's grip, but the arrival of the Kingsguard finally brought the brawl to an end. The guards separated the combatants, their stern faces brooking no argument.

"Luke, Jace, let's go," I demanded, grabbing both of their arms. 

I cast one final glance back towards the dining hall, where Aegon was engaged in conversation with Aemond. Aegon looked over at me, and all I could manage was a solemn shake of my head.

Tonight, the fragile peace had shattered, and the consequences were far from over.

The moon hung high in the night sky, casting its silvery glow as I stood in my chamber, tending to the wound on my face with a hot cloth. 

I couldn't stop the flood of conflicting emotions. Anger at Aemond, frustration with my brothers, and a deep, gnawing fear of what this marriage would truly mean. Aegon's unexpected tenderness only added to my confusion.

Just as I was about to press the fabric against my skin, a firm knock echoed through the room. With a resigned sigh, I set aside the cloth and moved to open the door.

To my surprise, Aegon stood before me as I swung the door wide.

"What do you want?" I asked curtly, annoyance evident in my tone, I turned away, expecting him to leave.

Instead, he stepped inside, ignoring my dismissal. 

"I am merely seeing if you are alright," he said, taking the cloth from my hands and guiding me to sit. He dabbed at my injury, his touch surprisingly tender.

Aegon's hand reached out, brushing against my bruised cheek. I flinched, pulling back instinctively. He chuckled softly, but there was no warmth in the sound. 

"Do not pretend to care," I snapped, hating the tremor in my voice. He didn’t retreat, just tilted his head, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Alright," he admitted, his gaze unwavering. "I came to see you. It's been quite some time, hasn't it?"

"What are you really after, Aegon?" I demanded, fixing him with a sceptical glare.

"You've caught me," he replied smoothly, closing the distance between us. "It seems time has only sharpened your wit and beauty," he continued, his hand reaching out to caress my cheek.

"You've grown so beautifully over the years," he murmured, his voice sincere yet unsettling.

"All I wanted," he murmured, his tone laced with suggestive intent, "was to see how you feel, how you'd make me feel."

Without thinking, I reacted, my hand snapping across his face in a sharp slap. The sound echoed in the room, breaking the tense silence like a crack of lightning

He recoiled, a hand flying to his stinging face, while I stood there, a mixture of disbelief and indignation flooding my senses. My own hand flew to cover my mouth, stunned by both his brazenness and shock at my own action.

"Aegon," I murmured, my voice barely audible as he chuckled softly. "I didn't..." The words failed me, hanging in the air between us. 

He tilted his head, his jaw clicking before a slow smile spread across his face.

"Tell me to leave," he said, his voice a mix of challenge and invitation. I wanted to, truly, but the words stuck in my throat. 

"Tell me to stop, and I'll stop," he continued, taking another step closer, his gaze unwavering as it searched my face for any sign of resistance.

There was none.

"Okay," he murmured, his fingers threading gently through my hair. He loomed over me, a commanding presence as I sat in my chair.

Suddenly, he knelt before me, his hands hiking up my nightgown with deliberate slowness, his eyes never leaving mine.

"Tell me to stop," he repeated, his voice low and insistent. 

I shook my head, a barely audible "no" escaping my lips. His smirk deepened, a triumphant glint in his eyes.

His face disappeared between my legs, and he began trailing small, wet kisses along my inner thighs. The sensation sent shivers through me, making me squirm in my seat. I bit my lip, a soft moan escaping as his mouth moved closer to where I wanted him most.

"Please," I whispered, my voice trembling with a mix of anticipation and need. "Don't stop."

Encouraged by my words, Aegon intensified his efforts. He started by kissing the sensitive skin at the crease of my thigh, his lips soft and warm. His tongue flicked out, teasing me with light, fluttering touches. 

He took his time, exploring the area with a deliberate, languid pace, savouring every reaction he elicited from me. Each touch sent waves of pleasure coursing through my body, making me arch towards him, seeking more.

He moved closer, his breath hot against my skin, and then his mouth was on me. His tongue parted my folds, moving in slow, sensual circles around my clit. He alternated between gentle, teasing flicks and firm, insistent strokes, driving me wild with desire. 

I gasped, my hands flying to his head, my fingers tangling in his hair as I held him close, urging him on.

He was relentless, his mouth working skillfully, driving me to the edge again and again. My breaths came in ragged gasps as he sucked lightly, then harder, his tongue darting out to tease and tantalize. 

The intensity of the sensations built rapidly, a tight coil of pleasure winding inside me, threatening to snap at any moment.

"Aegon," I moaned, my voice breaking as I teetered on the brink. 

He responded with a deep, satisfied hum, the vibration sending a jolt of ecstasy through me. His lips and tongue moved faster, more insistently, pushing me closer and closer to the edge.

With a final, shuddering gasp, I fell over the edge, my body convulsing in pure ecstasy. He didn't stop, his tongue continuing its dance, drawing out my pleasure until I was utterly spent, collapsing back into the chair, breathless and trembling.

Aegon pulled away slowly, his eyes meeting mine with a smug, satisfied look. 

"Consider that an apology," he said, his voice a seductive whisper.

I nodded, unable to form words, my mind still reeling from the intensity of what had just transpired. His mouth was glistening with my release, and he licked his lips with a self-satisfied smirk.

With a final, lingering gaze, Aegon stood up, straightening his clothes with unhurried confidence. He turned and made his way to the door, each step deliberate, leaving me in a haze of post-orgasmic bliss.

I watched him leave, my body still thrumming with the aftermath of his touch. As the door closed behind him, I let out a long, shaky breath, trying to collect myself. My heart was still racing, my skin flushed with the memory of his mouth on me.

Leaning back in the chair, I closed my eyes, a slow smile spreading across my lips.

A/n - Aegon's idea of a "warm welcome" involves more than just a friendly handshake, he's just really into making an impression x

[targaryenluvs]

— HONEYMOON BLISS

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: your relationship with luke was pure joy, but it seems your happiness and love leads to the two of you slipping up.

warnings: none really, fluffy, giggly reader, suspicious percy, flirty luke and annoyed reader, clarisse and chris r detectives, bickering luke and y/n, percabeth crumbs

a/n: it’s coming close to the end, very scary i swear 😭😭 i thought it would take me ages to write this story but i’ve uploaded all chapters in one day and written them lmao

wordcount: 1.2k

taglist: @songofthesuns @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv - finale out now!!

iii. honeymoon bliss

the smile on your face was very wide. in your hand was a red lipstick you’d long forgotten. “what’s that?” luke hovered over you as you jumped back, “announce your comings and goings castellan, you scared the shit out of me.” luke grinned as he leaned against the wall, your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his arms.

his sleeves were rolled, specks of paint all over.

“take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

“kill yourself, my peace will last longer.”

“ouch, who hurt you?” luke came closer as you placed the cap on the lipstick, “everybody on earth, how do i look?” it wasn’t too bold, a nice color nonetheless , one of your favourites. “perfect, as always.” you smiled before pressing a kiss to his lips, than his cheek, than his jaw. “okay now run along, peeta.” luke’s face contorted, “hate to break it to you, but i’m luke.”

you slapped your palm against your forehead, “i know, i’m calling you peeta, like from hunger games? he paints and bakes?” luke crossed his arms as he stared at you wondering, “there’s a game for hunger? that’s horrible.” you smiled as you kissed him again, “ill explain later, now go before clarisse murders you for being late.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before heading out, a salute sent your way as he approached the door, “yes ma’am!”

it wasn’t until it was too late that you’d realised, his face was covered in lipstick. but clarisse and chris noticed straight away. “so, you wanna tell us what you’ve been up to?” chris asked as he continued directing the paint roller up and down. “what are you talking about?” clarisses laugh rung out through the air, “i’m talking about the fact that you’re face is covered in lipstick.”

shit. luke clamoured to the nearest window to view your work, he looked pretty nice, he thought. but the stares from chris and clarisse brought him back, “it’s nothing, get back to painting.” and as much as luke would love to wear the marks, he raised his sleeves to wipe them off.

clarisse would not stop staring at your lips, “yknow, if you wanna kiss me, you could’ve said so.” you said as she shoved your arm, “as gorgeous as you are, no.” you leaned against the palm of your hand, “got your eye on someone? starts with an a? b?” her foot collided with your shin before you could continue you any further.

as you rubbed it up and down you smiled, “duly noted.” clarisse picked at her food, “as much as i love having you here, why are you at our table?” you sighed, “percy takes forever apparently. usually at the idea of food he comes running.” you laughed as percy flicked your ear, “ow! where have you been?” you stood up and walked to your table, not without a wave towards the ares cabin.

“i barely got away from annabeth, she was working me to the bone.” percy’s eyes immediately flicked to the food infront of him. “oh please you’re as skinny as a twig kelpie.” percy tilted his head, “you’re my sister, which means you’re connected to the sea. yet you’re still calling me kelpie? what even is that?” the goblet in your hands currently held liquid gold, otherwise known as mountain dew, “i don’t know kelpie.” you took a sip from your goblet whilst percy inhaled his food.

“hey percy, y/n.” luke’s voice called out as he walked over to the two of you, you practically froze up. you hadn’t seen him all day since he was currently repainting the hermes cabin after someone, (kids from the ares cabin who’d then blamed their siblings for putting them up to it. which caused them to end up at the infirmary and clarisse painting as a punishment) took their masterful artistry from off their page and onto the walls.

“i hate to ask, but i need more people to help me out, percy?” his mouth was currently stuffed full and you couldn’t help but laugh, “the foods not going anywhere perce, and yes he will help, won’t you percy?” your tone wasn’t exactly asking him, but he didn’t want to paint. you could tell by his lack of response that he wasn’t exactly elated. “i’ll talk to him, he’ll come soon enough. you heading up?”

and so percy watched as the two of you walk away, laughing at you tripping over. “shit, you okay bab—,” your head snapped up at the slip, “i’m fine. it’s just my lace.” you interrupted as luke handed you his tray.

luke bent down as you clutched onto his plate and your own, he patted his knee as you rested your foot. he made quick work of your laces, double knotted and all. “what’s that? world record time?” you scoffed, “you wish.” luke feigned shock, “no faith jackson, no faith.” it was a running joke, your last name being jackson. even if it wasn’t, percy was your brother. and you didn’t really mind it, your parents weren’t exactly heartwarming.

“i have faith, in your failure.” he clutched his chest, “you’re killing me here.” you smiled, “good.” chris’s jaw was quite literally hung open, before clarisse shut it and chris mentally ran laps at the fact that she’d touched him. “they’re so together.”

“undeniably.”

“what’s undeniable?”

chris jumped back at percy’s sudden intrusion into the conversation, “cmon man.” percy shrugged, “what’re you guys talking about?” clarisse rolled her eyes, “none of your business, learn some manners and stop butting into conversations.” it was percy’s turn to roll his eyes, before they focused on the two of you.

“her laces are double knotted, they were untied two seconds ago, she never double knots.” chris rose his eyebrows at percy’s observant eyes, “luke tied them.” he turned back to the picnic table as clarisse turned to her siblings. leaving percy to sigh, “guess i’m painting after all.”

i mean, he had to keep an eye on you. right?

percy had been painting for a record time of ten minutes, before you’d managed to get annabeth to take him away so you could be with luke. she’d unsurprisingly caught on pretty quickly, especially when the two of you had accidentally worn eachothers shirts to the bonfire.

“what’re you doing here seaweed brain?”

percy visibly jumped at annabeths voice, to luke’s amusement. “you alright there?” percy’s thumbs up was a quick response as the boy turned to annabeth, his face was beat red. “hey, annabeth. what’s up?” his voice crack caused luke to laugh, and for percy to roll his eyes.

“i need someone to train with.”

“that’s nice.”

“i’m choosing you.”

“that’s not nice.”

annabeth crossed her arms, her foot tapping impatiently against the floor. she was waiting for him to give in, and her harsh stare was more than enough for him to run after her. you walked to luke with a smile, he was currently bent over as he dabbed his brush in the paint. “nice ass castellan.” luke grinned at your voice, “thanks, yours is… nice i guess.” you punched his arm.

“i think we should go swimming tomorrow.”

“you think?” your eyes flitted back up to his, before returning to painting.

“yes! thank you. i’ll pack everything don’t worry. we should bring the camera.”

“who said i agreed?”

“you didn’t say no, you didn’t shake your head, nothing indicating towards a no. you said, ‘you think?’ you’re asking me if i really want to go, and i do.”

you couldn’t help the smile that came over your face, dam, luke castellan knew you like the back of his hand. “if you feel like skinny dipping, i’m not against it.”

“castellan!” your voice was shrill as you chastised the man, accidentally flicking paint up at him as your hand waved around, his smirk was undeniably devious.

“oh it’s on.” he took his roller and ran it across your face as you shrieked, “i’m going to murder you!”

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part thirteen

697 words

one two three four five six seven eight nine ten eleven twelve

Steve and Eddie have a divider set up between them, like every other pair in the room. 

The rules say under no circumstances are they allowed to see their partners portraits until the exhibit. Steve doesn’t get why or why the rule goes for the portraits they're doing of themselves, but he's not the one in charge so he doesn't question it. 

The same cannot be said of Eddie.

“Come on. “ He groans. “Just a peek, no one will know.”

Steve rolls his eyes and flexes his fingers where there's sprawled over his paper so a certain someone doesn't see. “We're literally in the middle of the room, Munson - everyone will know.”

Eddie's slumps, leaning away from where he was invading Steve's space and Steve thinks that’s for the better. He doesn’t know how long he could’ve kept up the unbothered act; like he couldn’t smell Eddie’s cheap shampoo and cologne, like his heart wasn’t pounding and he wasn’t resisting leaning closer. 

Steve can't help but smile at the look on Eddie’s face. Like Steve has personally offended him by following the rules. 

“Lame,” Eddie mutters under his breath. He ducks behind the divider to presumably continue working on his self-portrait.

If it's anything along the lines of his other work, then Steve doesn't actually want to see. The teen has consistently made some of the most disturbing stuff Steve’s ever seen. It can't be helping the Satanist allegations but to each his own. 

Steve is, unfortunately, morbidly curious as to how Eddie would draw humans, though, specifically him. He only has to wait a few weeks to see that, though, so he can be patient, unlike Eddie. 

Steve can’t even lie to himself and act like he doesn’t find it endearing. 

Carol hadn't been all that happy with her partner. The sophomore she was paired with somehow managed to be judgmental and awkward at the same time. 

Steve's never spoken to her himself, but everyone in class is familiar with her mile-a-minute way of speaking. Carol's only referred to her as motor mouth for as long as Steve can recall. 

She wasn't amused that she had to move seats to be closer to the girl, either. The teacher is having them complete the outline and worksheet today, seeing as Carol didn't get the chance yesterday. 

Steve looks behind him to check in only to see Carol staring at the girl dead pan while she presumably explains the project. 

Steve never got a good look at her seeing as she sat behind him, but he notices now that she’s pretty. She isn’t wearing traditionally feminine clothes- Well, she is, but it's mixed in with some interesting choices. Like the tie. Definitely interesting. She has freckles that rival Tommy's - except not really because Steve doesn't think that anybody's could.

Steve makes eye contact with Carol and the girl widens her eyes at him like are you seeing this and Steve only shakes his head in amusement and returns to his assignment. 

He’s never had to draw himself before. At the beginning of the hour, he wasn’t sure where to start, but decided there was no better place than his pride and joy; his hair. It’s not looking too bad if he does say so himself. His plan is to leave the eyes for last because that’s always where he somehow goes wrong. 

Steve pauses in his assessment of his project when he senses eyes on him. He looks to his left and, sure enough, Eddie is leaning onto the back two legs of his seat in an attempt to see pass the divider. 

Steve huffs and grabs the back of the chair and rocks it slightly. Eddie yelps and grabs onto his arm for stability. Steve’s breath hitches. 

“What’re you up to there?”

Eddie peers at him before a smirk grows on his face. “Oh, you know, just testing your reflexes.” 

Steve hums and pulls so the front legs are brought back to the floor. “Right, right, and what’s the verdict?”

The boy grins and pats Steve’s arm before pulling his hand away. “They’re just fine, sweetheart.”

Steve doesn’t get much work done the rest of the period.

fourteen

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sorry if i missed anyone!!

[call-me-mrs-winchester]

FIRST TIME

PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)

SUMMARY : reader finally decides to give her virginity to dean

WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. horniness. cunnilingus. fingering. under-aged sex. rough sex. semi-pubic sex. unprotected p in v. aftercare. attentive dean. strong language. praise kink.

A/N : this oneshot is a prequal to homework [if you haven't read it yet, go check it out!] thank you to everyone who's read and supported it, it means the world. i plan on making a few more oneshots (that could be read on its own) in this universe. let me know what you think 😆

Your eight-month anniversary with Dean was today. In a (good) way, it felt longer. Growing up, you were taught to respect your body. You were told to wait for marriage before having a man worship at your temple. It was "the best gift you could give your husband," at least that's what they said. Until now, you haven't had a problem waiting. Sure, you had urges from time to time like any teenager, but no one had made you feel how you felt with Dean.

The longer you spent with him, the more you craved. It wasn't just his physical attributes but his personality, too. Every exchange of words, every shared moment, and every heartfelt conversation only entrenched your love even further. It was the way he protected you, cared for you, and loved you that made you feel safe. Until you, he had no interest in dating. Why would he when all he wanted from girls was something they offered him freely?

You had been the first girl ever to deny him, and that's what drew him in. He wasn't looking for a relationship, but hearing the word 'no' intrigued him. Suddenly, finding ways to get your attention was his priority. Whether it was meeting you at your locker every morning with flowers, seeing you after school to offer you a ride home, or even cornering your best friend for help winning you over, he didn't stop. It wasn't until you overhead your peers discuss how Dean dismissed any girl who engaged with him that you took him seriously.

And there he was again, at your locker, with the brightest bouquet of tulips, your favorite. His charming smile beams towards you, filling you with joy from across the hall. Students pass by, talking amongst themselves about you. "Watch, she's going to blow him off again." "How could she do that? He's so hot." "He's only trying to win her over to get in her pants. She's not even that cute." Even though it wasn't in your nature to ignore them, you chose not to cause a scene, not with them anyway.

A smile lit up your face as you focused on Dean. "Hey," You greet once you're standing before him.

"Hey, beautiful," You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, loving how it sounded coming from his mouth.

He hands you the flowers, and you happily accept them. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leans against the locker beside yours, watching you open your own. You inhaled the bouquet before gently placing the tulips inside. "I'm sure I know the answer to this, but would you like to go out sometime?"

You close your locker and stare into his dreamy eyes as you reply, "I'd love to."

His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It seemed he was ready for you to turn him down again, and as much as he wanted, he didn't expect you to say yes. He leaned away from the lockers as a smile stretched across his face. His infectious smile brought one of your own. You always imagined saying those words to him, and now that you did, it was better than you had dreamed it would be.

"Really? T-that's great! Does tonight work?"

"Yeah, tonight's perfect."

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at eight."

You weren't a bold person, but you couldn't resist standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your hand rests against his arm, maintaining your balance as your lips press against his face. Even though your gesture was small, he closed his eyes and enjoyed your lingering kiss. You slowly pull away and lean back on your heels. The passing crowd seemed to still at the publicly displayed affection. Hush conversations began as everyone gawked at you two. Before doubt could seep in, Dean grasped your attention.

"Don't listen to them."

You nodded, listening to his words and ignoring the others. "I'll see you tonight."

The Impala comes to a soft halt in the middle of the grassy field like it did all those nights ago. A smile appears when you realize he's recreating your first date. Dean had taken you to his favorite diner in town as the sun had set before coming here. The pur of the engine ceases, and his door creaks open. You've learned over the months to wait for your boyfriend rather than exiting Baby by yourself. Despite your protests, he insisted on being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, someone he was, only with you.

Dean helps you onto the hood, then joins. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your backs lean against the windshield, heads tilted towards the night sky. Stars litter the dark canvas above, shining as bright as the first time he brought you. A warm breeze blew through the trees, over the open field, and towards the Impala. Crickets play their song as the rustle of leaves hum from afar. It was a scene out of a romance novel.

A content smile found its home on your face. You didn't need to talk to feel comfortable with him and were confident he felt the same. Being in his presence alone filled you with a sense of safety. Dean has had his share of fights defending you, whether you wanted him to or not. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you knew deep in your soul that wouldn't change. That's why you decided tonight was the night you'd give yourself to him completely.

Tearing your gaze from the stars, you direct your admiration towards your boyfriend. Feeling your stare, he turns his undivided attention towards you. You lean forward and connect your lips with his. He doesn't waste a moment to kiss you back with just as much passion. His hand runs through your hair, sending tingling sensations across your scalp. You breathe him in, quickly accepting his tongue. He leans over your body, deepening the kiss. Eager for more, you push him back against the windshield and straddle his hips. Your ass grinds against his lap, and he pulls your hair, breaking the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck.

Small moans escape your peppered throat, the light breeze carrying them away. The feeling of Dean's growing member rubbing against your entrance made you apathetic toward the marks he was leaving behind. You'd happily deal with the evidence later. Your eyes squeeze shut as the friction becomes overwhelming. Shallow breaths leave your lungs as tension quickly builds in the pit of your stomach.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other at the bottom of your spine, he lays you across on the hood. He hovers over your body before continuing the actions from before. Dean harshly rubs his bulging jeans against yours, and your legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Your body clings to his, only encouraging him to grind harder. Desperation gets the best of you when your walls clench around nothing.

"I need you," You breathe out.

Dean stops his movements and stares into your eyes, asking, "What?"

"I need you—I want you."

"A-are you sure?" He inquires as he rises to a seated position.

"Yes, D." You sit too and reassure him. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. What better time than on our anniversary?"

He hesitates but says, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't expect—I would've planned it out if I knew you were ready. I imagined our first time—your first time—to be perfect. Not in the back seat of my car; You mean so much more than that."

"I know, but it can still be perfect."

"How?"

"Well..." You take his hand in yours, squeezing gently. "I think losing my virginity to the boy I love under the stars sounds pretty perfect to me."

"That sounds great, but the 'where' part is still an issue."

You glance around your surroundings before settling with, "Right here."

His eyebrows draw together. "On the hood?"

"Beats the backseat for my first time. And, I don't know, having sex on the hood of the Impala sounds sexier."

A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head. "Does it now?"

"Mhm," You hum as you scoot closer.

He inhales sharply once you gently press your lips against his throat, instantly finding his sweet spot. Because your relationship hadn't gone further than second base, you both had gotten pretty good at teasing each other. You had to admit, there were a few times when you almost caved out of sheer lust. But tonight was different: you were ready. A grin plays on your lips as your other hand trails down to his tightening jeans. Groans fall from his mouth as you palm his erection and sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

Your hand undoes his pants, and before you can slip your hand in, he lays you back down. His lips capture yours, and you quickly move in sync. You pull his shirt up, hinting you wanted it off. He complies and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground. As he kneels in front of you, you pull his jeans down and see his boner through the fabric of his boxers.

After discarding his pants, he reaches for yours to peel them off. As he did that, you quickly took your shirt off. You were both now in your undergarments, staring hungrily at one another. He hovers over you and kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your body goes hot, growing hornier by the second. His fingers drag the straps of your bra off your shoulders as his mouth places wet kisses on the top of your breasts. You arch your back, giving him access to unhook your bra.

The outline of his cock presses into your clit, distracting you from your unruly thoughts. His warm tongue finds your left nipple, licking it before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking. He doesn't leave the right one unoccupied for long. His fingers lightly pinch and twist your hardened nipple. You close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure his mouth, fingers, and dick are creating. The intensity of his member grinding against your clit and the stimulation of both your nipples were driving you to the edge. Suddenly, his mouth unlatches itself from you, causing you to open your eyes in confusion.

Dean's large hands run down your thighs, sending goosebumps along your skin. His fingers loop around the waistband of your underwear, and before he goes further, he silently asks if it's okay. You nod and watch as he pries your soaked panties from your body. Instinctively, you try closing your legs, feeling insecure. Flush ran throughout your entire body. You had never been this intimate with someone, and it was frightening. He detects your lack of confidence and promptly makes you feel comfortable.

"You're so beautiful." He praises. "So much better than I ever imagined."

His fingertips lightly ran over your skin as if he were afraid to hurt you. They cupped the back of your knees and gently lifted until they bent. Dean slowly kisses down your thighs, and between each peck, he compliments you. You feel your insecurity disappear the closer he gets to your most intimate area. Without wasting another moment, his face devours your pussy as if he were a starved man. You arch your back as he licks your cunt clean, skillfully working through your folds. Your eyes roll back once his nose presses against your clit. Before you knew what was happening, you came all over his tongue.

"Oh, God," you pant with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to—I didn't know I was gonna cum so fast."

Dean lifts his head from between your thighs, the area around his mouth glossy with your juice. "Don't ever apologize, you got it?" After you nod, he dips down again, slurping up every last trace of your arousal, humming, "You taste so fucking good, princess."

You tug at his hair, squirming underneath his face. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves, rubbing it in circles, making your body unexpectedly jerk. You watch as he removes his countenance and trails kisses up your body. He lays on his side next to you before tucking his arm around your shoulders. The beating of your heart quickens as he applies the right amount of pressure you didn't know your clit needed. Your hips buck upwards while a whine slips past your lips, wanting more.

His fingers travel further down, running through your glistening folds. You knew what came next, the anticipation deafening. Slowly, he slides his index finger inside you. A content sigh falls from your mouth, enjoying how his digit drives in and out of your cunt. Dean sees your pleased and lazy smile, and a smirk emerges on his lips before adding another finger. You inhale deeply, feeling the difference between one and two fingers. It doesn't take long before his thick fingers pleasure you once again.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans, not wanting to annoy your boyfriend with your uncontrollable squeals. He notices and mumbles against the side of your mouth, "Let it out, princess. I want to hear every little sound you make."

That was all you needed to hear. Dean's fingers worked faster, taking you near the edge, and your moans told him so. They grow louder with each thrust, but the moment his fingers curled, you lost it. Your hand grabbed his hair, holding on as he fingered your g-spot. The muscles in your stomach contract, and you get that feeling again; your climax begins. You close your legs, thighs wrapping around his arm, making the high intensify. His consistency doesn't falter, and his digits fuck you, only taking you higher. Once it ends, your legs fall, and he pulls his hand away.

Your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath. Dean brings his drenched hand to his mouth, his eyes finding yours before closing his lips around his fingers and pulling them out at an agonizingly slow pace. Fuck, you thought. Watching him suck your fluids from his digits alone could've made you cum again. Your left-hand slips into his boxers before wrapping around his erection. A small groan falls from his lips, having never been touched like this by you. Without having to see his length, you felt it was rather long. You pumped his silky soft cock a few times and felt him twitch. His previously soaked hand pulls off his remaining clothing, freeing his large member. Your eyes widen; He's much bigger than you imagined.

How was he going to fit? You wonder. He saw the worry in your eyes and ran his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face before kissing the tip of your nose. Dean gently grasped the hand that held him and intertwined your fingers together as he hovered over you. He nudges your knees apart, and you happily allow him between your legs. This was it. This was what you both have been waiting—what felt like anyway—an eternity for. Your mind was ready, but you weren't sure if your body was.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Dean reassures. "I'll go as slow as you need."

You nod, intoxicated by his affectionate attentiveness. "Okay."

His lips connect with yours, kissing your nerves away. He rubs his tip through your folds, coating it with your wetness. You break apart and angle your head to watch his cock disappear in your awaiting pussy. The pain as he stretches your walls rips through your body, forcing your eyes shut. Your face scrunches in discomfort as he pushes in further. Whines come from your mouth as he slowly bottoms out. Dean stays still, kissing your forehead as you adjust to his size.

"I know, princess, I'm sorry. I promise it'll feel better."

You nod in response. Soon, your eyes open as the pain becomes tolerable, whispering, "Okay, you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dean's eyes scan over your countenance, trying to detect any lies. When he saw none, he began to move. You inhale sharply as the pain rushes back. His hips stop their retraction, but you quickly shake your head in protest.

"Keep going," You say through gritted teeth.

Without question, he pulls back until his tip threatens to slip out. Slowly, he drives back in. You squeeze his hand and wrap the other around his shoulder as your legs cling to his torso. His lips pepper your face with kisses as he continues to thrust the discomfort away. Over the months, you've seen the womanizer everyone knew Dean as vanish. He always took care of you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, especially right now. His effort to soothe you seemed to have worked. The pain turned to pleasure, and you ached for more.

"Faster," You murmur into his ear.

He bit his lip, trying to distract himself from spilling his cum so soon, but the way your walls squeezed around him made it nearly impossible. Dean picks up his speed, playing his own game of russian roulette. You felt his cock twitch inside you, prompting a moan and the tightening of your insides. He buries his head into your neck, attempting to postpone his climax. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, and per his earlier request, you made it known.

"Fuck, babe. If you keep it up, I'm going to cum." He groans.

You giggle, "Isn't that the point?"

He thrusts deeper, answering, "Not until you do."

A new wave of satisfaction washes over your body, making you moan louder, begging, "Harder."

Dean complies, bucking his hips into the back of your thighs. His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You untangle your hand from his and dig your nails into his back. Sure, you had daydreamed of having sex with your boyfriend hundreds of times, but you never imagined it being this mind-blowing. His member deliciously bruises your g-spot, causing pain and pleasure to fight for dominance. Sounds you never thought you could make fall from your mouth, encouraging him to quicken his pace. The Impala rocked side to side, utilizing the suspension's swaybar with each vigorous thrust.

"Fuck, Dean. Just like that, baby. Don't stop." You beg between moans.

The tension in your belly threatened to snap any second. The area just under his waist rubs against your clit, coercing your chest to arch into his. He presses you into the warm hood, keeping your squirming to a minimum. Tears flood your eyes as your immense climax approaches. Your body tenses as it braces for your last orgasm, squeezing Dean's phallus for dear life.

"Cum on my cock, princess." He urges as he fights off his own release. "I know you can do it. Mm... 'Want to feel you come undone on my dick. C'mon, sweetheart, do it for me."

His words were all you needed to fall over the edge. Except you didn't fall, you flew. Your fluids gushed on his member as you screamed into the night air. His thrusts began to falter, but he forced himself to ride you through your high. Your toes curl while your eyes roll back, your climax taking control of your body.

Unable to fight off his orgasm any longer, he hurriedly asks, "Where do you want it?"

You can barely form words as your body shakes uncontrollably. "D-d-does-n't ma-tter."

The weight of Dean's body lifts from yours as he sits back, pulling himself out and grabbing his wet member. Your eyes refocus in time to see him accidentally ejaculate on your folds. His cock twitches again, this time spraying across your upper body. A breathy groan falls from his parted lips as ropes of hot cum coat your skin. You feel his seed drip towards your entrance, daring to breed life with you. The thought of carrying his child brings a smile to your face. No, no. You're too young, you remind yourself. Can't start a family with him yet. He bends over your body and kisses your lips. He presses his softening dick against your wet folds as you kiss him back.

"As much as I love bathing in your cum, I think I wanna clean up so we can cuddle." You pant, trying to catch your breath on the way down from your high.

He chuckles against your lips before sitting up again. "I'll be right back."

Dean climbs off the Impala and opens the back door. You lay still as the fluids threaten to leak onto the hood. He shuts the door, returning with a blanket in one hand and napkins and a water bottle in the other. He sets the blanket on the windshield before hopping next to you. He wipes the mess away and uses the water to remove the stickiness left behind. Once he finished cleaning you up, he tossed the dirty napkins off the car. He lays beside you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart as he pulls the blanket around you two.

He stares at the night sky, gazing at the stars, when you confess, "I love you."

Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, "I love you too, sweet pea."

"Thank you for being my first."

His hand gently lifts your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first."

Your lips curl into a smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hello could you write a fic for miles42 having an airhead gf like shes his opposite (kind, always smiling, extroverted but shes a bit blunt) !! for the fic u can do wtv u want tbh !! but if u dont have any inspiration u could do something about her meeting miles42’s mom nd uncle or, him taking his gf on a date or wtv u want bc idk if my ideas are good lmaoo

(Hello! Sure I can and here ya go! Enjoy!)

Earth 42!Miles Morales x Opposite!Reader

It's so funny how you guys even ended up getting together

You both obviously clash but oddly work out well together

Even Miles was surprised he ended up with you

"Blink twice if he kidnapped you, kid."

Words of Uncle Aaron the first time he met you

When Uncle Aaron and his mother met you, they probably thought he was gonna be with someone who matched him, probably Emo or at least similar to him

And to their surprise, and his mother's joy

You walked into the door!

His mother thinks your good for Miles, she sees you're able to get him to smile more, he's happier and she sometimes sees specks of Miles before his dad died come back

Even if Miles is surprised at himself he really does love you

He needs someone like you in his life

Walking down the street hand in hand people would never think that you guys were together

Even in photos, you're smiling, it always seems like he has a permanent frown on his face until out come along

It always looks like two completely different photos, but no

He warns you about being kind to everyone though, as he noticed is a habit of yours

Brooklyn isn't safe, everyone knows that and you could get hurt because you're too kind

You're kinda an airhead also

You once followed a man into his house because he said he had cats and she had kittens

Don't worry, the man was a kind and older man but the principle still stands

Miles noticed you're sorta an airhead, not a bad thing but something he looks out for you for

But he truly does love how much you care for him, his mom and even Uncle Aaron

When you guys first met he was a little suspicious

Just because he wasn't used to that in Brooklyn anymore

You were also incredibly blunt

He found it funny at first when it was at other people

He gets kinda frozen and can't help but sigh when it's directed at him

He thought Uncle Aaron would not like you when he brought you home

Not him mom

But you did great!

He didn't even need to warn you about calling his mom by her first name

He's gotta get used to you being so extroverted

Especially because now he is more closed off and likes to keep to himself more

Especially being the Prowler

But when you want to do anything and everything, social and make friends

He's the one looking over your shoulder and directing you away from assholes

He loves you, but he doesn't want you being hurt

You got them scary boyfriend privileges

I think you guys make a great pair

Miles was initially hesitant to introduce you to his mom and Uncle Aaron, but you wore him down.

So that's how he stood in the hallway of his own apartment like the guest, as his mother already liked you.

Plus, you didn't call her by her first name.

"Aye, you're so pretty, Mija." Miles' mother smiled at you, getting a genuine one back as she stood next to you, glancing at Miles.

"Oh, ¿cómo te las arreglaste?" Mrs. Morales started, her son blushed as he stood behind you, watching his mom practically flaunt around you.

"Mom!" Miles complained, Mrs. Morales waving him off with an eye roll.

"How did you meet my son of all people, hon?" Mrs. Morales asked, guiding you to the kitchen as you followed behind her, laughing under your breath.

"Well, I was walking to Mr. Gonzalez's bakery, and I was in line but I looked outside," you started, Miles freezing in embarrassment at the upcoming story as Uncle Aaron laughed.

"I saw Miles standing there in the window, but he was just staring at me?" You said, a confused tone in your voice as Miles could hear his mom chuckle.

"Anyway, I smiled at him and he sorta jumped. He…sorta smiled back? It was a little loopy but then he turned away real quick, but he tripped."

"Oh, man…" Uncle Aaron laughed, wrapping an arm around his nephew's shoulder as Miles looked down, blushing thankfully hidden as he hid his face in his shirt.

"He fell sorta hard so I went outside to help him, and yeah!" You smiled, Miles shaking his head as Uncle Aaron elbowed him.

"Stop…" Miles muttered, turning around to head to the kitchen as Uncle Aaron couldn't keep in his laugh any more.

Hey, you said it how it was.

Miles may complain about it, but seeing how you were sitting on the counter talking to his mom with a smile on his face, he couldn't complain about it much.

[greenwitchfromthewoods]

one night, one call l Joel Miller

Summary:  the trip to the bar ended differently than you planned

Warnings:  +18, smut, angst, swearing, abusive relationship, crying, mention of violence, unprotected sex (she's on the pill, but remember - safety first), oral sex (receiving f), praise kink, cigarettes

A/N: 200 followers milestone! Thank you so much for being here and dedicating your time to my scribbles. I hope they bring you at least a little joy. Your feedback is very important to me and I thank you for all the reblogs, comments and likes. I secretly hope you like this story.🖤 sorry for all the mistakes

The door slammed behind you with a bang that no one heard because of the music playing inside the pub. The night was starry and cool. However, you didn't feel the cold because of the rage and helplessness you felt inside. 

Your cheeks were burning and your throat was painfully tight as you sat down on a nearby bench and helplessly hid your face in your hands, letting out a muffled groan of rage.

You wanted to throw everything to hell, leave town and change your name, but all you felt inside was total humiliation and helplessness.

"Want a smoke?"

A low male voice tore you from the clutches of despair and brought you back to that uncomfortable bench and into the embrace of the cold night. 

You raised your eyes and saw the silhouette of a man who must have approached you when you were despairing. You immediately thought that your lack of vigilance in such a situation was very risky, but you were relieved at the sight of a familiar face.

"Joel..." you sighed, straightening up on the bench, "Thanks, but I don't smoke. Although... Fuck it."

You took a cigarette from the pack he held out to you, then used his lighter. You took a drag and blew a trail of gray smoke from your mouth.

"Thanks." you said, "Did you come to make fun of me again?" you laughed desperately, "We'll have a laugh, and then I'll finally cry."

"Your boyfriend is..."

"Asshole. I know." you interrupted him and put the cigarette to your lips again, "I'm sorry. I'm mad, and he's your friend after all."

"Don't apologize." Joel sat down next to you, sitting comfortably and stretching his long legs in front of him, "He's a dick."

You smiled. 

You had known Joel Miller for a long time, you didn't even know how long. It was at his birthday party that you met Dylan and somehow you became a couple. It was over half a year ago and you were already regretting that you had let Joel convince you to go out.

"He wasn't like this before." you started, staring at the bright windows of the building across the street. "It was cool at first."

"It's always like this." Joel mumbled. "What changed?"

"I don't know." you shrugged. "I guess I started bothering him. Besides... You heard it yourself."

Joel regretted that he had heard everything that had been said between you and Dylan, because it was just terribly unpleasant. 

It started with you wanting to dance, but Dylan wasn't interested. So you went dancing alone, and then he went into a weird jealous phase and gave you a loud lecture about how you dressed like a whore and you definitely want to find yourself a new dick. Your friends tried to calm him down, but when you said he had too much to drink and maybe you should go back, he told you to fuck off because "no pussy will rule him."

You were silent for a moment, finishing your cigarettes and listening to the muffled sounds coming from the pub. Finally, you crushed your cigarette on the edge of the bench.

"How's Sarah?" you asked, looking at Joel, and he smiled.

He always smiled like that when you asked about her.

"Fine." he replied "She's sleeping over at a friend's tonight. So..."

"Daddy's having a night out." you laughed "Cool. It's just a shame you're spending it with me on the bench instead of with your friends inside. You should go back to them."

"Naaah. I don't feel like it." he replied, turning the box of cigarettes in his fingers, clearly lost in thought "Listen, Y/N... I know it's none of my business..."

"Please, I don't want to talk about him." you interrupted him again.

"You don't have to be loyal to someone who treats you like that. I would never do something like that."

"I know, Joel. You're one of the good ones." You smiled. "But I have to handle this, you know. But I guess I'm too afraid of being alone..."

"Better to be alone than with a dick like that. Sorry, but that's the truth." Joel stood up and stretched, then scratched his already slightly ruffled hair. "A hot chick like you deserves someone better."

"Do you think I'm a hot chick?"

Your question made him a little uncomfortable, but he didn't show it. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets.

"You know I do." He replied. "Oh, and that's the smile I like so much."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"Joel, it's not nice to play with a poor girl's heart." you said, standing up and glancing at your watch. "I think I should take my slutty dress home. It's getting really late."

"Do you need a ride?"

"No, thanks. You've already done a lot sitting here with me."

"It's no problem. Call or text if you need anything."

"Sure. Bye."

How could you have known that you would need it that same night?

The sound of the phone ringing echoed through the bedroom and penetrated his head unbearably. He woke up disoriented and immediately reached for his watch. It was almost four in the morning, it was still dark outside.

"Fuck..." he groaned, trying to feel for the phone on the nightstand, "Yeah?"

"J-Joel?"

He immediately woke up and sat up in bed. Your voice had completely changed. A cold shiver ran down his spine.

"Y/N? What happened? Is everything okay?" he asked in a slightly hoarse voice.

"Y-Yeah..." you answered uncertainly, your voice trembling, "No, nothing's okay... I'm sorry, Joel. I didn't know what to... I immediately thought of you and..."

"It's okay. Tell me what happened?" he swung his legs off the bed and rubbed his sleepy eyes with his free hand.

"Dylan... I..." your voice broke every now and then and Joel guessed you were crying "He came here... We had a terrible fight. He was drunk... He tried to..."

"Did he do something to you?"

Joel felt his heart stop for a moment. He wasn't sleepy anymore, but fully conscious. His fingers tightened around the phone as he waited for your answer.

"No, but... He wanted to, so I just threw him out the door." you sobbed, already completely falling apart "He was still screaming and banging on the door... I was terrified..." you sobbed "I told him it was over, that I didn't want to see him anymore... I guess I shouldn't have... I'm sorry I woke you up, I'm so stupid!"

"Hey! Calm down." he interrupted you, getting up and reaching for the jeans lying on the floor "Are you alone now? Did you close the door properly?"

"Yes, I'm sure."

"Where are you now?"

"I locked myself in the bathroom. That's stupid..."

Joel had already put on his jeans and was running down the stairs to the dark living room. He grabbed his car keys lying on the table and headed for the door.

"Stay there. I'll be there in a moment." he said as he walked down the driveway to his car. "I'll call when I'm at your door."

"Joel, that's not necessary..."

But he had already hung up and was starting the engine. He abruptly backed out and a moment later he was driving down one of the main streets. It wasn't until the first red light that he realized that he was gripping the steering wheel with all his might and constantly rushing in his mind.

But he didn't feel like thinking about it. The fear that was coursing through his veins was turning into anger and rage. He felt his heart pounding harder and harder. The whole situation seemed completely unreal to him. But he could still hear your trembling voice, that was the worst.

He stopped in front of your door and as soon as you opened it his knees almost buckled under him. Your eyes were red and puffy, your hair disheveled. He quickly went inside, and you let him hug you.

You sank into his arms as if only they could save you at that moment.

"Hey, it's okay." His voice was soothing as he stroked your hair "I'm here. You're safe."

"Joel..." you groaned, pulling away from him "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have called..."

"Stop apologizing, sweetie, and tell me what happened." He replied, taking your face in his hands.

So you told him everything again, and he had to ask you to calm down a few more times, because you were falling apart again. His brown eyes watched you closely, and when you finished, his hand grabbed your wrist.

"What the fuck is this?" he asked coldly.

You looked at your arm. There was a strong and clear mark of a man's hand on your forearm.

"He did it?"

Joel's voice sent shivers down your spine. You'd never heard him like that before. His jaw clenched tightly as he stared at you with such intensity that you felt like he was staring straight through you. You nodded.

You didn't need to say anything more. Joel stormed out of your apartment and you didn't even have time to scream to stop him.

It had been over an hour since you saw him again. The sky was starting to lighten on the horizon when Joel appeared in your doorway. His eyes darkened and his body tensed. He entered the apartment and you already knew that something more had happened.

"Joel?"

"Dylan won't be bothering you anymore." His voice was low but calm.

"Joel? What did you do?" you asked, approaching him.

"I talked to him," he replied. "I should have done it a long time ago. About half a year ago."

Your gaze went to his hand. The bloody knuckles were the answer to everything. You covered your mouth with your hand, terrified.

"He won't press charges, don't worry about that." he said seeing your reaction. "And he definitely won't come near you again."

"You shouldn't..." you choked out, shaking your head.

"Shouldn't I stand up for you?" he asked "Please, Y/N! I couldn't stand to watch how this guy treats you! You deserve so much, so much better." Joel unconsciously raised his voice, but he didn't notice it because the words were spilling out of his mouth "You were always so kind and sweet, and he was a fucking asshole because he didn't see what a wonderful woman he had next to him! It makes me sick to think that you and him... Dylan didn't deserve you, Y/N! He should be happy I didn't knock his teeth out anyway."

"Joel..."

He looked at you from under his furrowed brows. Anger was still boiling inside him, and his hand hurt a little. But none of that mattered. What mattered was you and how you felt. And your eyes were wide, because you were staring at him, terrified by everything that had happened. 

"Listen, Y/N..." he said, approaching you and taking your face in his hands. "I won't let anyone hurt you again, do you understand? You shouldn't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong. He was a fucking bastard, he just let it out now. I'm just sorry you had to go through this."

"I wasn't alone..."

He felt your hands on his, they were so pleasantly warm and soft. And although your eyes were still red, he didn't see the same fear in them as when he first saw you. Maybe that's why he decided to finally do it, something he had been thinking about for so long, but still thought he shouldn't.

You felt his warm lips as they crushed yours. A few gentle pecks, but when he felt you return his kisses, they became deeper. You felt his tongue as he slipped between your lips, caressing you pleasantly.

Your body responded automatically. You clung to him, sliding your fingers through his hair. He smelled of the remnants of his cologne and the cigarette you had smoked together, but it didn't bother you. 

This was him, the one you knew. The one who defended you and was always there for you, who told you nice things and was happy to see you. The one who would never hurt you.

"Say the word..." he murmured in your ear as his kisses slid down your neck "I don't want you to regret this."

"I only regret that we didn't do this earlier." you replied "I want you, Joel. If you want me."

"You don't even know how much..."

His hands rested on your hips, squeezing them lightly and pushing them closer to his. You immediately felt the bulge in his jeans and something pleasant fluttered in your lower abdomen. You were the cause of it, and it was exciting.

You didn't remember how on earth you got rid of your clothes, slowly heading towards your bedroom, breaking the kisses only for a moment to get rid of another unnecessary piece of clothing. You always thought Joel was handsome, but when you saw him naked you felt your mouth get wetter.

Wide and strong shoulders covered in skin that looked as if kissed by the sun, a soft belly and a nice path of hair leading to a hard manhood. You were the one who looked like a walking mess, but he didn't see that.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful." he whispered as he laid you on the bed and his eyes could feast on your body.

Your body quivered as he moved his hand down your side to your thigh. He smiled seeing you bite your lip. Joel kissed you again, but only for a moment. Soon his lips slowly went down to your collarbone, lower to your sternum, and then closed on your nipple, sucking and caressing it tenderly with his tongue.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling, and when his hand gently tightened on your other breast you let out a quiet moan. Joel liked that. His mouth left your nipple with a wet pop to move on to the other. His hard cock pressed against your thigh, and you felt the heat in your body that needed to release.

Your hand slipped between your hot bodies and his sigh of contentment filled your ears as you grabbed his cock and moved your hand up and down. You could feel how wet you were just from listening to his moans.

"I want to taste you." You whispered.

He didn't protest, or rather he couldn't at that moment, so you rolled him onto his back. Now you were the one kissing him, and then you slid lower. Your warm, wet tongue slid down his neck as you kissed and bit the skin, then your lips moved lower and lower across his chest.

He probably let out all the air from his lungs when he felt your breath on the tip of his cock. You gave him a single lick, and then you slid it into your mouth. You felt the slightly salty taste and the weight of it on your tongue. It was long and hard. Joel lifted his hips and moaned loudly as you took him deeper, almost choking on him. 

His fingers gripped your hair as he guided you the way he wanted and needed. You let him do it, trusting him completely. You felt his body tense with every movement, and your tongue didn't make it any easier for him to control himself.

"Baby..." he whispered with difficulty "You have to stop, or I won't last much longer."

You hummed something, sending vibrations to his member, and he moaned louder and quickly moved your head away from his crotch. You didn't have much time to react. His arms gathered you to him and in an instant you felt his strong body pressing gently against yours.

"I want to be inside you." he panted, spreading your thighs. "Will you take me?"

"Yes, Joel."

You didn't want to wait any longer. His tip slid across your lips a few times, and then slowly pushed inside. The walls slowly stretched to take him. His size took your breath away, but Joel did it slowly enough that you could get used to the feeling.

"I feel so full." you said when he stopped.

"Not yet."

He lifted your leg slightly and pushed his hips, you squealed, feeling him even deeper. God! The feeling was captivating. His hot body pleasantly crushed yours, his cock buried in you to the base.

You wrapped your legs around his waist feeling that you were already used to this feeling, but you were wrong. With the first thrust you lost your breath again. But Joel was gracious, with the second and third he stopped again for a moment. He was clearly delighted with your reaction, because you saw how his shiny eyes looked at you with admiration.

"You're doing great, baby." he praised you, kissing you gently on the corner of your mouth "You're so brave. Do you feel it? You took me so deep. Brave girl."

Fuck! 

The words hit exactly where they were supposed to. Your body relaxed and his hips could accelerate, slamming into you faster and faster. You dug your fingers into his shoulders, feeling that if you didn't, you'd eventually somehow slide off the bed, and you didn't want that.

His lips found your nipple again. He sucked on it, and you tensed from the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck, Joel... Harder, please..." you moaned, "Harder."

"Are you sure?"

All you could do was nod. He took your hands, pressing them above your head, your fingers intertwined so tightly that it was almost painful, but you didn't care.

Joel's hips thrust harder, hitting exactly where you needed him. Suddenly, when you felt how close you were, he let go of your hands. He lifted up and now he was kneeling between your legs. He grabbed your hips, lifting them slightly, and then he started thrusting. You managed to grip the headrest as you felt him so deep again. Your walls began to tighten around his cock.

"Come on, baby." he panted. "Give it to me, I know you can. Fuck! I'm so close."

"Joel!"

"I know, I know baby."

When he placed his thumb on your clit, making small circles, you completely drifted off. Your walls squeezed, sending pleasure through your entire body, which arched giving Joel one of the most beautiful views. He didn't stop moving though.

"Where do you want me?" he asked. "Y/N? Tell me! Where?"

"Inside." you replied, opening your eyes and looking at him. "Pills. It's safe."

Three more thrusts and you saw Joel throw his head back, moaning loudly as he filled you to the brim, deeper than anyone had before. His chest was heaving rapidly, but when he looked at you, all you saw was delight.

He slowly pulled out of you.

"Wait a minute." he said, leaning down and kissing your hip.

He disappeared into the bathroom, but returned a moment later carrying a towel soaked in warm water. He dried you off carefully and lay down next to you.

"Jesus, I didn't expect that," he confessed.

"Me neither. Definitely not that." you replied.

"What now?"

This question wasn't just directed at you. You had the impression that Joel was also asking himself.

"What would you like to happen next?" you asked gently, stroking his face. His stubble tickled your hand pleasantly.

"I wouldn't want to ruin what we had." he replied "But I would like something more. With you. If you want it too."

“So maybe we should take it one step at a time?” you suggested. “I think that would be safest.”

"You think so?"

"Yeah. I'd love to invite you out for dinner or a drink. If you don't mind, of course."

"Oh! That's nice." he laughed, brought your hand to his lips and kissed the top. "And would you put on that slutty dress of yours. I really liked it."

"I think that can be arranged." Now you laughed too.

In the light of the dawning day, everything seemed easier for you. You were looking into the sweetest eyes in the world, you were feeling the heartbeat of a man who truly cared about you, and it was a truly wonderful feeling.

You were safe with him.

☆☆☆

Thank you for your time.

[glearyyyne]

we can't be friends (wait for your love)

Part 2

Synopsis: Here you are at the Brighter Days Inc., hoping it would help you remove Satoru's memory in your fragile heart.

Word Count: 2,787 words

Warning: Heavy angst

Note: This was based on the mv of ariana's latest song, I felt like I need to make that version of the one and only it boy Gojo Satoru! This is best to read while listening to we can't be friends (wait for your love)

_____________________________________________________________

Pen clicking

You stared dully at the paper in front of you that was waiting to be sign. Your mind was all over the place the moment you walked inside with the stuff you used to cherish. With full determination, you decided to end things for your own good.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.

            ___ Yes            ___ No       

You sigh, dropping the pen as you try collecting your thoughts by staring at the box beside you that has all of the stuff you had with Gojo.

Satoru...

Oh how that name sounds so sweet yet painful.

Tears swell in your eyes reminiscing those elegant sapphire eyes that used to look at you with so much love that you missed.

Your eyes stumbled upon the white teddy bear, it was his first anniversary gift.

**

"Babe, look here" Satoru spoke with so much happiness.

You two were at the arcades, trying to have some fun after you two finished eating lunch together. "I bet you can't get that" You suddenly told him with a smirk. Satoru looked at you with his competitive look, "I bet you I can indeed get that" he said before putting a token inside the machine to start the claw machine.

The game was super easy, just try and claw a stuffed toy and bring it to where it was supposed to fall but this machine in front of you was known to scam people. That's what you taught, but Satoru proved you wrong.

With determination and focus he had when getting that teddy bear that only cost around a dollar to some store, he managed to safely get the teddy bear after so many tries.

Satoru's eyes widened when the claw didn't let go of the teddy bear when it was brought above as it safely held the teddy bear before dropping to where he could receive it. He screamed in joy not caring about the people around him.

"Darling! Look! I got it!" Satoru told you with a joyful tone as you giggled at his actions before he gave it to you. "Me? But you worked so hard just to get it" You said as you held the teddy bear with love.

"Yeah, but it shows how much I'll do anything to give you what you want" He said with those soft and loving eyes as if nothing else matters in this world just you and him.

**

When you heard your name being called, you stopped thinking about him as you touched your cheek when you felt a tear-stained. The nurse asked if you were ready to go. "A-ah just a second" you hurriedly said and hastily grabbed the pen to sign the paper.

You have given extensive thought behind your decision and give "Brighter Days Inc." the exclusive permission to remove this person completely from your memory.

          ✓ Yes            ___ No      

You stood up and gave the nurse the signed paper before grabbing the box and head inside the room. The doctor greeted you enthusiastically as he told you to give the nurse the box you were holding.

As soon as you gave her the box, you sat down on the treatment chair with anxiety creeping your body. Feeling your heart start to beat loudly as if fighting you to stop this nonsense.

"Is it your first time? I can see how your eyes move around" The doctor asked with his lightening laugh just to ease you up.

"Yeah, sorry I just really don't know how to calm myself" You said, fiddling your fingers to atleast help calm you down. "Don't worry actually what happens to most of our patients who came here for their first time" The doctor said while preparing the machine.

You looked at the table to see the box again, you felt as if your heart was screaming at you to stop this. 

“So who are you forgetting? We need to know so that we can ask you after this procedure is done” The doctor asked.

“Someone named Satoru Gojo” You were hesitant at first but you answered anyway.

"Don't worry, we'll give you those final moments with your memories before they disappear" The doctor assured you.

"Are you ready?" The doctor asked and with a final sigh, you nodded.

You closed your eyes as soon as you felt the doctor put something on your head. That's where the process begins.

DELETION PROCESS

     1%

**

"Satoru?" You softly spoke when you noticed those white hair that stood among the crowds as he turned around and smiled before waving at you.

He rushed up towards you with a grin, patting your hair leaving you groaning since you just finished brushing your hair. "Stop it! I just brushed my hair!" You whined, slapping Satoru's hand away with a glare.

He only giggled, "You just looked too cute" Satoru then took your bag. "I'll carry this, is there any place you want to see?" He asked.

"Should we go get some coffee?" You suggested.

"Sure, make sure mine is caramel macchiato with extra caramel" He said with a smile. "You and your sweet tooth" You said with a laugh.

"Well I can't really live without sugar and of course you my honey bunch" He said, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you close to him. You smiled while hugging him back.

**

Tears stained your eyes as you started to see your final moments with your memories.

  DELETION PROCESS

     24%

**

"Happy Birthday!" You flinched when Satoru suddenly surprised you in your shared apartment. The feeling of tiredness and burnt out suddenly left, a smile crept up on your face.

"You didn't have to" You said, dropping your bag to the ground before heading to Satoru. "I have to, because it's your birthday baby," Satoru said, holding the cake near you with the candles being lit already.

"Make a wish" He said

When you first observe how the cake was made, you can see how messy the font was made. It already says that it was Satoru who made the cake. You gently close your eyes and begin making a wish.

Let us stay together, tomorrow as well

You blew the candle with ease, but this is satoru we're talking of course chaos is on his vocabulary. He dumped the cake into your face after he made sure to put out the candle to not hurt you. You stood there in shock before grabbing a handful of cake as you threw it into his face leaving you two a giggling mess. You were curious as to what the cake tasted like. 

“I didn’t even get to taste the cake” You said with a pout after Satoru came back with a tissue to clean your face. “Don’t worry, I made two cakes, that cake earlier is just for fun” He said while wiping your cheeks. “And look! I got you a gift!” He said placing the box that was wrapped well into your lap. 

You stared at the box suspiciously before you slowly unwrapped the present. Sooner, you found what was inside the box that left you gasping in surprise. It’s the stethoscope you’ve been wanting to get after beginning your doctor journey. You stared at him flabbergasted.

He only smiled more and spoke, “Happy Birthday baby”. Tears swell in your eyes before you throw yourself to Satoru, hugging him while thanking him endlessly. He hugged you back, placing small kisses to your head.

**

DELETION PROCESS

48%

**

“I told you to leave me alone!” You shouted, crying hysterically while continuing to run in the rain without any shoes because all you wanted was to run away from Satoru.

But the moment Satoru was able to catch you by grabbing your arm and pulling you into a hug, you cried heavily into his chest. He made sure to take his jacket off to wrap it around you to stop you from shaking in the cold. 

You two stood there by the rain, Satoru was there hushing and comforting you to calm down.

“Shhh, baby, I know how much it hurts but it’s time to move on” Satoru spoke to you, “Toru, I can’t fucking move on knowing my mom died” you said as you stared at him with your red eyes.

“I know, I know but would your mom be happy knowing how her daughter cried in the middle of the rain that will definitely be the cause of your sickness the next day?” Satoru asked that you quickly shake your head.

“See, besides I promised your mom that I will take care of you and I hate it so much when you cry like this” Satoru admitted, his hand gently caressing your cheek. 

“I love you so much that it hurts me too when I see you like this” Satoru spoke in his broken voice.

From that moment, you saw how the usual chaotic, noisy Satoru is gone and it was replaced by this brokenness and pain evident from his face.

“Please, let’s head inside, I don’t want you to get sick” Satoru begged, you slowly stopped crying as you nodded.

Satoru sighs in relief, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead before holding you close as you two walk back to your shared apartment that night.

**

DELETION PROCESS

65%

**

“I told you to stay still!” You told Satoru as you giggled trying to stop him from wriggling much as you wanted to put the night cream on his face. 

“But my skin is already clean! I don't know why you wanted to add that to my gorgeous skin” Satoru said, lying down on his back as you tried to put skincare products on his face.

“Just do it for me please?” You begged with those puppy eyes that Satoru can't resist.

“Fine, but I better have my kisses after this!” Satoru demanded.

You smiled before leaning and placing a quick kiss on his lips, “that's all you're getting now” You said with a mischievous smirk.

Satoru only pouted while you continued painting his face with the skincare you were using.

After some time, you finished the night cream and grabbed one of your lip masks. Placing the mask on his lips, Satoru immediately took this chance and swallowed the lip mask only for him to choke.

“You got karma real quick” You said while laughing at him.

“That hurts my pride,” Satoru said while coughing.

“That's why I told you to stay still” You told him, grabbing another lip mask and placing it on his lips again. He stared at you, “Stay quiet for now” You told him with a smile as you took a book to read.

Satoru didn't do much so he closed his eyes to take a nap.

When you take a break from reading, you stare at Satoru with those loving eyes.

How lucky I am to get to be with you

 **

DELETION PROCESS 

78%

**

“What's your problem man?” Satoru spoke before punching the guy in the bar. 

You quickly jump into the scene as you try to stop Satoru, “Stop it! Satoru, we might get kicked out!” You frantically told him.

“I can't stop if he won't shut up about wanting to touch you!” Satoru shouted at you. You sigh as you apologize to the guy but it was too late, the both of you got kicked out of the bar.

“You need to learn how to control your temper, sometimes satoru” You annoyingly said.

“I just can't help it-” whatever satoru you always say that!” You snap at him.

Satoru only stood there, sighing as if he was tired.

“I’m tired, let's just go home” Satoru said but you weren't backing down.

“Oh no, no I’m most definitely tired Satoru! I have to deal with your ass whenever you get drunk!” You shouted in frustration as he was silent.

“I can't face you right now, you either stay with your family or friends for the night” You said as you quickly walked away, Satoru tried to stop you but you still left.

That's where the memory you wanted to rewind your actions as you didn't know this event will cause drastically to your relationship.

**

DELETION PROCESS

91%

The process moves slowly to all of the sweet times you had with gojo before it arrived, to how you two ended your relationship that you always had nightmares about it.

**

You stared completely shocked at what Satoru showed you.

a pregnancy test

Your eyes quickly moved to Satoru wanting him to explain everything.

Satoru only stared down, “I’m sorry, I got someone pregnant” he revealed that left you shaking.

W-what?

“Since when?” I asked, tears are already spilling from your eyes as your body went numb after consuming this information.

“The night we got into an argument after we got kicked out of the bar, I headed to another bar that time and-” Before Satoru could finish, you stopped him.

“You got some random girl pregnant?” You quickly cut him off. Your eyes looked at him to see if he at least felt guilty about what he did but…

There was none

“She’s not some random girl,” Satoru quickly defended.

“Oh, is that so?” You glared at him.

“Are you going to tell me that you fell out of love with me the moment she came into the picture? Is that it?” You angrily asked him.

Satoru only stared at you before nodding.

You sigh as you cover your face, it came too quickly.

“I’m sorry I couldn't keep my promise, I was just getting tired of the constant fighting we had and I think it's best for us to split,” Satoru spoke.

He didn't even show a slight guilt or sadness on his face.

Satoru only tried to hug you but you kept on punching his arm, once he did hug you your punch somehow got lessened only for you to cry loudly in his chest.

“I did love you, I didn't lie when I told you I loved you most of the time. I know I was a jerk for suddenly falling in love with someone but I can't help it” Satoru explained.

But no matter how many times he explained, he will never come back to you.

That day, Satoru left with all of his belongings leaving you alone in that shared apartment that was supposed to be your happy place.

You sat at the couch, staring at the wall trying to process everything, you looked at the picture frame that was from your graduation, and you can see how his eyes used to lighten up with you but now that eyes only looked at you with nothing.

You head to the bedroom and saw how clean it was, it felt so different to the one you’re used to.

You opened the closet to find your clothes only, but Satoru’s red scarf was there. Hands quickly grabbed them as you tried covering around your neck and just cried there.

Months later the news that Satoru and his girl got married, it was decided that you will remove him from your memories as soon as you see an advertisement that helps remove a certain person from your memory.

**

DELETION PROCESS

100%

The moment it hit one hundred, every memory with Satoru was soon replaced. 

The first anniversary gift he got was soon replaced by you hanging out with your friends as you got lucky to win a teddy bear in the claw machine.

Every time he always fetches you after your university was replaced with you walking alone.

Those sweet birthdays you had were replaced with your family celebrating it with you.

The night that you heard your mom died was replaced by your cousin comforting you instead of Satoru.

The bar memory you had was replaced with you fighting your friend for making you two kicked out of the bar.

The day when Satoru told you he got someone else pregnant? Was replaced with your best friend telling you she got pregnant.

Your eyes quickly opened as you looked around and touched your cheek wondering why you were crying. The doctor and nurse quickly went to your side and asked you if you were okay and were asking tons of questions about this person you don't even know.

You got out of the office feeling fresh and left the Brighter Days Inc not knowing the box you had was burned leaving nothing else, not even the scarf you used to comfort yourself after you and Satoru split.

You entirely forgot the person who you used to call your soulmate.

[cherienymphe]

Teenage Dirtbag XV

JJ Maybank x Reader x Rafe Cameron

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, mentions of violence (+ gun violence), gun kink, dacryphilia, attempted murder, blood, semi public sex,  jealousy, manipulation, infidelity, underage drinking, drug use, canon ages, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ series masterlist

summary: You’re charmingly spoiled. You’re too kind for your own good. You’re the princess of Figure 8 …and you’re way out of JJ Maybank’s league, but when he realizes that Rafe Cameron’s pride and joy is actually a bruised and battered damsel, he’s determined to save you.

Your rescue just comes with a price.

⭑

“Mother, please…”

Your parents and Rafe found your exasperation amusing, your back vibrating from the feel of his soft chuckle as you leaned against him. The blond wrapped his arms around you as your mother quietly pleaded for ‘just one more’. Your father wasn’t on your side on today of all days, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes.

“You know how she gets,” he told you. “Let her have this.”

“It’s just Midsummers,” you said to them. “We do this every year.”

You tried not to let your unenthusiastic thoughts slip through too much, but where there was once a time you loved Midsummers, you mostly just wanted to get the night over with now. It still brought you joy—this you wouldn’t deny—but it wasn’t the same as it used to be. You used to look forward to it, and while you enjoyed getting dolled up and seeing your parents’ friends as they asked about you, you didn’t enjoy smiling in everyone’s faces and gushing over how happy you were with Rafe.

You looked forward to the food and drinks and floating around in a beautiful dress, but you didn’t look forward to Rafe’s hand on your waist all night. You didn’t look forward to laughing along as countless people wondered when Rafe planned on popping the question. You didn’t look forward to posing for countless pictures.

…as you were currently doing.

“Mother,” you sighed.

“You should be used to this by now,” she softly laughed. “…and grateful because I’m going to be far worse than you could ever imagine on your wedding day.”

Your stomach twisted at that, and you swallowed down bile just as Rafe tightened his arms around you.

“Stop being such a brat and just let your mom take the picture.”

His voice was quiet as his lips grazed your ear, and you kept a smile on your face as he straightened again. The older woman made a noise of approval, and you felt no relief when she was finally done. You glanced at Rafe just as your mother turned to your father to discuss the best ones, face even as your boyfriend adjusted your necklace.

He’d just bought it.

“Just stop smiling,” he murmured. “You look like you’re being tortured.”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

Rafe paused, staring you down for a moment before a small smirk made its way onto his lips. Dropping one arm, the other hand moved towards your face, touching your red lips.

“Cute…”

“We’ll meet you both there,” your father said over his shoulder as he walked your mother to his car. “…and please don’t forget to set the alarm. I think someone broke into our pool house.”

His words made your heart drop, and you whipped your head around to stare at the older man with wide eyes.

“What?” you said, voice uneven.

Your father made a gesture with his hand like he was scolding himself for forgetting to tell you that.

“Yeah, I went in there the other day looking for my golf clubs, and it just looked…off. Lived in,” he said, opening the car door. “I might install a camera or two, I don’t know.”

They bid you both goodbye, none the wiser to the internal turmoil he’d just caused, and you swallowed just as Rafe started to pull you back inside. You heard him scoff.

“Probably some Pogue looking to mooch,” he snidely commented, making his way to your father’s bar. “Typical.”

Clearing your throat, you grabbed your purse.

“It’s probably nothing,” you found yourself murmuring. “Besides, it’s a pool house, not exactly The Hilton.”

“Babe, your fucking basement would be like The Ritz to those people,” Rafe said with a shake of his head as he downed a quick drink. “You think too highly of them and their lack of standards.”

You really didn’t want Rafe of all people to preach to you about standards, and you huffed.

“Do you plan on driving there drunk or…?”

Rafe was in a lighter mood today, and so that actually brought a chuckle out of him. Pouring one more drink out of your father’s bottle, he made his way to you. When he kissed you, you could taste the alcohol on his lips, and you watched him pull away to empty the glass.

“I need something in my system if I’m going to be around my family and their friends all night. Especially Rose’s book club women,” he said with a shudder, guiding you out after setting the alarm.

You were almost to his truck when he stopped you, forcing you to face him. You felt nervous as you looked at the blond because you had no idea what he was thinking nor what was about to come out of his mouth. You rested your hands on his arms as he pulled you closer, his own hands comfortable at the small of your back. His blue gaze flitted between your own.

“Try to lose the pout, alright?” he said to you. “Your knee is much better, your nose is practically like new, and you look good enough to eat.”

Rafe leaned in, gently pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Things could always be worse,” was what he said to you when he pulled away, a hint of a threat in his voice as he stared into your eyes.

Yes, you supposed that was true, and you allowed him to walk you to the passenger door.

You didn’t know what Ward had said to him exactly, but you couldn’t ignore the restraint Rafe had practiced for weeks, now. You didn’t know if Ward had legitimately found something to scare him with or if it was a conversation that went more along the lines of ‘at least wait for her to fully recover’. You realized that your thoughts were bordering along something much worse than praising a fish for swimming, but it was relieving to not have to deal with Rafe’s violence and especially for this length of time.

The reprieve was almost enough to make you feel bad for seeing JJ behind his back.

Almost.

“I almost didn’t recognize you.”

The dark-haired girl turned to look at you, her confusion dying down as she placed the face to the voice. Kie weighed your words over in her mind, head slightly tilting from side to side before a small smile adorned her face.

“I know that’s meant as a compliment, so I’ll take it as one,” she said, taking her drink from the bartender. “I look like an uppity Kook princess…no offense.”

You didn’t take any offense to it.

“I know you wouldn’t dare be caught dead here willingly,” you commented, and Kie rolled her eyes over to her mom.

The woman was talking to your mom, a third woman with them that you didn’t recognize.

“It’s amazing how you know me so much better than my own mom,” she snidely replied, taking a sip of her punch. “She keeps waiting for me to ‘grow up’ as she puts it…”

You felt her eyes on you as the bartender finally gave you your own drink. You discreetly shook your head when he asked if you wanted anything else in it, the man no doubt familiar with how underage attendants got their way around here. At Kie’s surprised look, you spoke.

“I still take painkillers, so…”

The tan girl nodded at that, and a look passed over her features that looked a lot like concern.

“Sarah told me that your leg is much better.”

“It is, yeah,” you confirmed. “I can walk without a splint for the most part, but Rafe and my parents still want me to stay off of it if I can.”

She nodded, a soft ‘that’s good’ reaching your ears. Kie looked like she wanted to say more, and despite you two being friendly—with her eventually coming around to you—it was very clear in this moment that you were not friends. You blamed Rafe for that and was just about to go find him when she spoke again.

“It’s not my place…it’s really JJ’s to tell you the truth, but… He was really out of line that day in the hospital.”

Her words took you by surprise, her expression even more so because she looked genuinely embarrassed by what had occurred.

“Yeah, Rafe’s an asshole, and sure, sometimes he’s an asshole to you, and we’re probably the only ones who ever see that, but… JJ accusing him of that was really gross and uncalled for,” she continued.

You looked down at her words, unable to defend JJ in the way you wanted. Everyone thought he was just being a dick who hated Rafe, but in actuality he was right, and you took a sip of your drink.

“His feelings aren’t any excuse to accuse someone of something like that…”

You looked at her again at her words, expression inquiring.

“You know, about Rafe…and you,” she eventually added, albeit reluctantly.

She shrugged at the look on your face, her own expression softer than what you were used to.

“I think he likes you,” she said, shocking you. “Or…at the very least you surprised him. You’re just not what he expected.”

You struggled to respond to that, taking another sip.

“What makes you say that?” you wondered with a scoff.

“He brings you up sometimes. Just to me,” she added at the look on your face. “Nothing crazy. I just think he worries about you dating Rafe, and I keep telling him you’re with that guy for a reason.”

You swallowed, unsure of how to feel about JJ talking to Kie about you.

“There’s probably a whole other side to Rafe the rest of us will just never see…”

You thought to yourself if she only knew.

“That’s flattering,” you slowly said, attempting to steady your heart. “I didn’t even think JJ cared enough about me to talk about me to anyone. Especially to you.”

Sarah was always vocal about how tight-knit John B.’s friend group was before she came along. There’d been a few days where you absentmindedly listened to her talk about how she’d felt like she was intruding at first, only feeling welcomed by all after some time. You especially remembered a few comments on how protective Kie was over her boys, doubly so towards Sarah considering their history.

“I was surprised too,” the other girl agreed. “…but I guess he just wanted to talk to a girl about it.”

You only nodded at that, and you could feel her gaze on you, although it was hard to read when you looked at her.

“You know he’s here tonight…”

Even though your face didn’t move, your heart did skip a beat in your chest, and you sharply inhaled. You didn’t need her to confirm who she was talking about, but she did anyway, and you took another sip of your drink.

“He’s making some extra money,” she explained. “I didn’t get why he’d want to work Midsummers of all events, but…maybe now I do.”

Your gaze met hers at that, and before you could really study her expression, you were interrupted.

“You’re going to hang by the bar all night?” Rafe wondered, saddling up next to you as he flagged down the bartender.

He only just noticed Kie after a moment, throwing her a dismissive look before resting his blue eyes on you.

“Is she why I’ve had to entertain myself with Kelce and Topper despite coming with my beautiful girlfriend?”

You hated the way he talked about her like she wasn’t there, but before you could scold him on it, Kie made herself scarce with one last glance thrown your way. You forced it out of your mind, sighing at him.

“You three were discussing football. I figured that was your subtle way of excluding me…”

After being handed a drink he was just shy of being legal for, Rafe snaked his arm around your waist. He pressed his lips to yours, humming to himself.

“If I’d wanted you to go away, I would’ve said so,” he murmured into the kiss.

His lips made their way to your cheek, and that was the moment you took note of familiar blond hair over his shoulder. Just as Kie said, he was wearing a uniform, a serving tray in his hand, and you blinked. Was he really here just for you? It seemed like way too big of a risk to take, but you found yourself glad that he was.

You needed to tell him that he couldn’t sleep in the pool house for a while.

It was then that you heard Kelce call your boyfriend over, and you both turned to see the other guy waving him over. He and Topper and some of Rafe’s other friends were laughing down at someone’s phone, and Rafe squeezed your waist.

“Now I’m telling you to entertain yourself,” he chuckled. “I won’t be long.”

He left you to go and see what was so funny, and you tapped your finger against your glass a few times before stepping away. JJ’s blue gaze was already on you when you glanced over, and you looked back at Rafe one more time before stepping into the building. A few beats had passed before you heard footsteps mirroring yours.

Knowing this cursed place like the back of your hand, you were quick and discreet in slipping into a storage room. You swallowed down the rest of your drink as you slowly paced, telling yourself you were on a time crunch. It wasn’t too much longer before you had company, and you were quick to get your words out before JJ got the wrong idea.

“You can’t stay at the pool house tonight,” you told him, giving him pause. “Not for a while actually. Not until I can convince my father he doesn’t need to install cameras.”

You sighed.

“I might just tell him I’m the one who’s been in there.”

The blond nodded at that, and you watched him purse his lips.

“So…this isn’t what I thought it was going to be.”

You couldn’t hold back your smile at that, gently laughing to yourself.

“No, JJ,” you admonished. “Rafe is…right outside.”

You gestured towards the door.

“…and his friends will keep him occupied for a while sure, but definitely not long enough to…”

You trailed off, shrugging and dropping your arm. Your words made JJ’s eyebrows raise, and he gave you a look you were more than familiar with.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

You gave him a look.

“JJ…be serious…”

He slowly made his way to you, keeping his eyes on yours the entire time.

“I am,” he breathed, gaze finally dropping. “You look beautiful.”

Rafe had given you the same compliment, but it meant more coming from JJ’s lips, and your own lips parted. Your stomach always flipped when he said things like that to you, and you reminded yourself that you hadn’t met up with him for this. You said that, but the more you looked at him the more you thought how nice he looked in something akin to a suit.

JJ’s blond hair was just a tad neater, resembling Rafe’s almost, and you didn’t think you liked it. Too busy taking in his uncharacteristic appearance, you didn’t pay attention to how close he’d gotten until his hand was touching your necklace. It was a tennis one, the expensive piece of jewelry catching the light, and you focused in on JJ’s face just as he let out a low whistle.

“Rafe bought it,” you explained, noting how much it felt like a collar. “He insisted I wear it tonight.”

You glanced at the clock on the wall, telling yourself to leave, to tell JJ that you’d see him later. However, you couldn’t deny that you didn’t want to, hating that you were here with Rafe instead. You wanted to prolong your time with the other blond for as long as possible, and you knew that JJ was thinking the same thing by the way his hand rested on your cheek.

“JJ…”

Your voice was low as he moved closer.

“Rafe isn’t going to be distracted forever.”

He looked between your eyes at that, his teeth sinking into his lip. He seemed to be contemplating it for a few moments before dropping to his knees. Your heart thudded in your chest as he reached under your dress, dragging your underwear down, and you didn’t stop him as your stomach flipped. You didn’t miss the way he slipped them into his pocket as he stood, lips immediately finding yours.

You couldn’t resist rubbing your thighs together in anticipation, feeling heat settle in the pit of your stomach. JJ tasted the inside of your mouth, and you could tell he’d had a drink or two earlier. He took his time in kissing you, mouth slowly moving against yours, and somewhere along the way he seemed to remember where you were…what you were not supposed to be doing…and who you had to get back to.

Resting between JJ and the wall, you helped him undo his pants, hand immediately wrapping around his cock the moment it was free. He hissed against your lips, and you couldn’t hold back your smile, kissing him harder and stroking him. He groaned into the kiss when you squeezed him, and reminding yourself of Rafe, you pushed your lower half against his.

One of JJ’s hands slid behind your thigh before hooking your leg against his waist. He rested between your legs as his lips traveled down your neck, and with your underwear in his pocket, you could feel the tip of him poking at your bare skin, a shudder passing through you as you wrapped your arms around him.

Guiding the tip of him between your folds, JJ pushed himself through his fist a few times before sliding into you with one quick thrust. You threw your head back, gasping at the tight fight and thinking you liked it a little better when you weren’t as wet. The slight burn made you buck your hips, and JJ’s hands were tight on you as he started to thrust into you.

You couldn’t swallow down your moan, reaching out to press your hand against the wall as JJ fucked you. Wrapping your other arm around his shoulder and neck, you pressed your face against him, teeth sinking into the nice shirt he had on. His hands were guiding your hips to meet him thrust for thrust, his cock stretching you out. You grew wetter with every movement, and it wasn’t long before each thrust was smoother and easier than the last.

For a few moments, you forgot all about Rafe and Midsummers and the fact that you had to go back out there and smile on your boyfriend’s arm. There was even a faint thought that he might be looking for you that you pushed out of your mind. All you could focus on was the feeling of JJ inside of you, chasing both of your climaxes. You wanted to keep fucking him for hours, but you knew that wouldn’t be possible, now.

You glanced at the clock again when JJ left open mouthed kisses against your throat, groaning against your skin as you squeezed him. You kept pushing your hips forward to meet his thrusts, dripping around his cock, and pulling at his uniform. Your other hand reached between you, dipping under your dress and circling your bundle of nerves. Your toes curled at the feel, and when you came, you came hard.

You swallowed down your moan as you tightened around JJ, and when your climax triggered his own, he pressed his face into the crook of your neck. You clung to each other as you came together and getting it in your head that you needed to go, you dropped your leg. You were going to help JJ get redressed, but he deterred you with a quick kiss.

“Go, go,” he urged, ushering you out of the room, and you hurried to make sure your hair and dress were fine as you sped away from the room.

You were down the hall when you felt JJ dripping down your thighs, and with a start, you realized he still had your underwear. You were contemplating turning back when you heard your name, the sound getting closer and closer until Rafe finally rounded the corner. Your eyes were wide as they met his angry ones, and you didn’t get a word out before his hand tightened on your arm.

“Where the hell have you been?”

“The bathroom,” was your quick answer, blinking before adding to it. “…and then the kitchens. I was trying to find a ginger-ale. My stomach felt weird.”

“I’ve been looking for you forever,” he spat, pulling you in the opposite direction of the party. “Sarah and my dad are being especially irritating, right now.”

When Rafe pulled you into an empty room, your heart sank.

…because you knew what he wanted.

“Rafe…not here…”

Your words actually gave him pause, and your boyfriend looked at you like you’d lost your mind. One of his hands pressed to the very door you were leaning against, and you watched him tilt his head at you. His hair wasn’t so neat now—a sign that he’d been running his hands through it—and you swallowed at the way he looked between your eyes.

“We’ve never not fucked at Midsummers,” he told you. “It’s practically a tradition, now.”

He softly laughed to himself, finding that funny.

“Can’t we just go? Let’s just go home and shower and-.”

“I’m not ready to go,” he cut you off, eyeing you. “My sister has been annoying me, and my dad is making me want to snort four lines of coke, and instead, I choose to fuck my girlfriend.”

The determination on his face made your nerves spike, and you were all too aware in this moment of the feel of JJ’s cum drying on the inside of your thighs. You didn’t think Rafe would even notice such a thing in his haste to be inside of you, but you knew you didn’t have the capacity to not feel icky fucking Rafe after just doing so with JJ.

“…but for whatever reason, she’s fighting me on that.”

Now, he looked angrier than he did before, and you looked towards the ceiling.

“I thought we were past this…”

When you looked at him again, his face was much closer.

“I thought we were on the same page about the least you could do in this relationship.”

You looked down at that, chest clenching painfully at the memory. The silence between you was thick with tension, and when he slowly reached up to touch your face, you let your eyes close.

“Are you going to fuck me, or do I need to give you another nose job?”

At his soft words, you looked into his eyes. Rafe was entirely serious, and with a shaky sigh, you reached for his belt. He didn’t say a word as you unbuckled it, and you shuddered when he leaned in to kiss your cheek, inhaling at the feel of you slipping your hand into his pants. His hand reached up to the back of your neck as you stroked him, fingers finding that stupid necklace and tightening it around your throat.

“Fuck,” he cursed against your skin.

Rafe moved you towards an empty table, hurried in pushing you onto it, and he didn’t hesitate in covering your frame and guiding himself into you. He groaned at the smooth entry, kissing you again and pushing his hips against yours.

“So wet for me already?” he hummed into the kiss.

He reached under you to lift your hips a bit, holding you right where he wanted you as he thrust into you. So eager to fuck you, Rafe didn’t even notice your lack of underwear. Or at least not enough to comment on it if he did, too preoccupied with taking out his frustrations on your body. You held onto him and his arm as you squeezed your eyes shut, fighting to convince yourself that you weren’t as horrible as you felt.

It wasn’t even twenty minutes ago when JJ was inside of you, fucking you in some storage room and fighting to make you come before you had to get back to Rafe. Now, here you were, once again in an empty room but having sex with someone entirely different. You shuddered as you recalled Rafe’s words, knowing that it wasn’t your arousal for him but instead a combination from both you and JJ after the other blond had come inside of you.

The thought made you want to shy away from the man on top of you, but there was nowhere to go. The table shook beneath his rough thrusts, and Rafe seemed to forget that you were there as he pounded into you. You flinched and squirmed beneath your boyfriend from both the rough treatment and the overstimulation, feeling torn between wanting to come again and pushing Rafe away.

When he fisted his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling your head back, you knew that you were in for a long night.

Your chest was painfully tight as you stared at Rafe in horror. Your boyfriend looked nothing like the gentleman he pretended to be but instead like the monster he often was. Only this time, that violent gleam in his eyes wasn’t directed at you. It had set its sights on JJ.

“Rafe…come on, this is ridiculous, let’s just go,” you repeated for the umpteenth time.

It was only an hour ago that you were hanging onto him as he fucked you in some empty room, pent up and angry at both Sarah and Ward. Now—somehow—you’d found yourselves outside as his friends held JJ’s arms, your boyfriend gearing up to hit him again. It was unfair and disgusting and cruel.

“You’re being an asshole, and for what? Because he’s here?”

The party was still going on, and twenty minutes ago you’d thought you were leaving. Now, you were basically forced to watch Rafe hurt the guy you were sleeping with. He kept telling you to leave, that this wouldn’t take long and wouldn’t be much longer, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to abandon JJ so easily.

“Rafe!”

“Get in the damn truck,” he called over his shoulder.

He sounded exasperated with you, and his friends chuckled. You looked between them in disgust, most notably at Topper who clearly wasn’t enjoying this as much as the others but didn’t have the balls to actually say something. Disappointed in all of them, your eyes briefly met JJ’s, his practically pleading with you to just leave.

You huffed.

“Fuck this,” you spat, making your way back towards the building to find someone who worked here.

Your tone must have caught Rafe’s attention because he was quick to stop you, roughly grabbing you.

“Woah, woah, woah,” he chuckled, but it had an edge to it. “I thought I said to wait in the truck?”

He looked at you like you’d lost your mind.

“What, you’re-you were going to go tattle on me?”

“This is shitty, and I won’t stand by and let it happen,” you replied.

“Who gives a fuck? He’s a Pogue!”

“…and so that makes this okay? I want to go home, and you want to stand here beating on someone who can’t even fight back!”

Rafe looked between your eyes, and you hated the way he tilted his head.

“Why do you care so much about what happens to him?”

“You’re so stupid-! It could be anyone, Rafe,” you sneered. “This is childish and mean.”

Rafe stared you down for what felt like too long—too still—and your heart beat faster the longer it went on. Before you knew it, his hand had fisted into your hair, and he was dragging you over to his friends.

“See… This is why he’s always making googly eyes at you,” Rafe said, not sounding the least bit amused. “This is why he’s making comments and accusations about me and our relationship.”

Rafe maneuvered his arm around your neck, holding you close as he grinned at JJ.

“You’re too nice, baby. Too sympathetic,” he chuckled, gesturing to the other blond. “He’s got himself a little crush, I just know it.”

You attempted to move out of Rafe’s grip, but he wouldn’t budge. You hated the bruising that was already forming under JJ’s eyes and the blood on his lip too. You made a noise of protest when Rafe kissed you on the lips, sloppily and rough, before turning away.

“Hey, JJ,” your boyfriend softly said, tone mocking. “She’s just being nice…because that’s just who she is.”

“Rafe…”

“Don’t go getting any ideas.”

“You’re making a fool of yourself,” you spat at Rafe, knowing that he was doing so in more ways than one.

Rafe looked at you in mock outrage, shrugging.

“I’m just trying to help him out,” he told you. “It’s not my fault these Pogues always want what we have.”

“Rafe, stop this,” you hissed. “You’re being an asshole.”

The words had barely left your mouth when his hand roughly closed around your chin. You winced at the feel, and neither you nor Rafe missed the way JJ tried to break free. Rafe’s friends chuckled at the sight, but Rafe didn’t, merely staring at the other blond.

“Look at you,” he finally mused. “I don’t know whether I should feel flattered or offended that you feel so protective over my girlfriend.”

There wasn’t a hint of humor in his tone, and before you could quite marinate on that, you were harshly thrown to the ground. The mood seemed to shift at that, and you could tell that his friends hadn’t been expecting that. You didn’t know if Rafe was drunk or high or both, but he’d never been so public in his cavalier treatment of you.

“She’s my girlfriend, JJ, and I could do anything I want to her…”

You attempted to push yourself up when you felt the sole of his shoe on your knee…that knee.

“I could set her little healing journey back…”

You looked up at him with wide eyes, sure that he wouldn’t with so many witnesses, but also…not so sure. You glanced at JJ, but the other blond was staring at Rafe with wide eyes, and you couldn’t tell whether he was angry or scared. Probably both.

“I could rip her hair out right here…” he gestured to his friends. “…and do you think any of them would stop me?”

“Rafe,” Topper finally said, and your boyfriend’s gaze snapped to him.

“Would you?”

Topper just stared at him, but his silence spoke volumes, and you only attempted to stand again when your boyfriend finally moved his foot. He pointed around, his gaze resting on JJ again.

“None of them are going to do shit,” he said to him. “So, what makes you so special to think you have a say in how I treat my girlfriend?”

Your lips trembled as you finally stood to your feet.

“…because she was nice to you once? Because she doesn’t want me to kick your ass now?”

You looked between them, the faint sounds of the party reaching your ears.

“Truth be told, I should kick your face in for that stunt you pulled at the hospital,” your boyfriend sneered.

“Rafe, you’ve made your point!”

You hated this entire pissing contest he was doing, and at this point, you half expected Rafe to whip it out and mark his territory. He stared JJ down for what felt like too long, his friends equally uncomfortable now with the turn the night had taken. You could see it in his eyes that he wanted to slap you clear across the face—maybe even break your arm—all just to prove that he could do whatever he wanted to you, and there wasn’t a thing JJ could do about it.

Rafe, however, settled for harshly grabbing your face and spitting right into your mouth as you gasped.

Taken aback, you couldn’t hold in your coughing fit, forced to follow along as he roughly grabbed your arm.

“Like I said JJ. Anything I want,” he repeated.

Dragging you along, Rafe tossed his next words over his shoulder at his friends.

“That Pogue’s all yours.”

You felt riddled with disgust the whole way to his truck, humiliated and angry. You blinked back tears as you recalled the way his friends did nothing, didn’t even move a muscle as he threw you to the ground, and you didn’t know what you hated more—that or Topper’s cowardly attempt that he ultimately backed out of.

Once you were at his truck and away from prying eyes, the slap came harshly and swiftly.

It made your ears ring and your cheek sting, tears forming behind your eyes as Rafe leaned in. His nose grazed the burning cheek, and you could hear his labored breathing as his chest heaved against your arm. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and neither did you, just staring into the darkness as a few tears finally spilled over.

“That is the last time you defend that Pogue…especially around me,” he whispered. “Do you understand?”

You started to nod when his hand circled around your throat, making you sharply inhale.

“I want to hear you fucking say it.”

Pulling at his arm, you eventually gave up on that, forcing the word out.

“Yes,” you struggled to say.

Shoving you away from him, he opened the passenger door, telling you to get inside. Wiping your face, you did, settling in the seat with a newfound hatred for Midsummers.

[writtenbymoonflower]

Hot and Bothered

You like to read spice and Sirius is inspired. shy fem!reader x Sirius Black

cw: pure smut, lowkey evil Sirius (he's sweet but gets too much joy in making her flustered), mention of smut/literary porn, oral sex (r receiving), kinda sorta cum play at the end? swearing

2.8k words

You had known it was risky, really there was no one to blame but yourself. You knew that attempting to keep any secret from Sirius would end in complete failure. In your defense, you had spent a long time reading this book, and you were desperate to finish it.

Unfortunately for you, it seemed like the last about 45% of your book was chalk full of a very specific set of scenes. Ones that you would rather walk into an oncoming stampede than let anyone know you were reading. Still, you brought the book to your boyfriends house to read during the "quiet time' that usually ended up occurring during every hang out. There usually ended up being a stretch of one to two hours where you and your boyfriends just sat in complete silence, comfortable in each others presence. This time, you were lounged on his leather couch, surrounded by his flashy throw pillows. He was nuzzled into your stomach through your sweater as he lay on top of you, letting his fingers freely explore your waist and tummy as the television droned on in the background.

You were holding your book close to your face, occasionally reaching down to scratch his scalp or stroke his face. It was a position familiar to you both, except it began to feel different.

When the scene in your book began to take a turn, you found your stomach knotting itself in arousal. Suddenly Sirius was too close for wholesome comfort, you were all too aware of his proximity to dangerous areas, making you squirm in his grasp. The teasing of his fingers didn't help the situation. You shivered under his hands, wanting to both shrink away and keen towards him at the same time. It didn't seem like he was aware of your predicament, he looked completely naive as he looked up at you, stormy clouds swirling in his irises as he gave you a heavy-lidded expression.

"You good, dollface?" He inspected your features, making you hide your heated face behind your novel.

"All good." You reassured, trying to keep your breathing quiet. Your voice hitched as he moved to rub at your hip, you swore you could feel his fingerprints through your cotton trousers. You suppressed the urge to wriggle.

"You're squirmin' around like a fish out of water." He said airily. "You gettin' overheated?" He was stroking your thigh now, squeezing and massaging the fat torturously.

"I'm okay, Siri." You reached down to grab his wrist, but this was your mistake. The hand that stayed on the top your book to hold the pages open wasn't as stable as you thought, making it slip from your grasp and fall open onto your tummy. You moved to grab it, but your boyfriend had other ideas. He took the book in his hand, moving to mark your place and close the it, but something on the page caught his eye. He immediately took the book in both hands.

"Oh, what've you got here, babydoll?" His eyebrows were almost to his hairline. You thought he was about to start licking his chops, staring at you like he was a wolf in a sheep pen.

"Siri! Give it back!" You floundered, but he was determined. He flung himself towards the other end of the couch, eyes scanning over the page. You could see his lips movie, mouthing along with the scandalous scene he was reading, his grin growing wider and wider. You gave up, relenting to hide behind your hands and curl in a ball. You heard him set the heavy book down and felt his hands wrap around your shins, slowly climbing their way up, past your knees to settle on your thighs, slipping between them to nuzzle up to your face.

"You gonna look at me, baby?" His voice was teasing, but far lower than you'd ever heard it. The gravely cadence lit up parts of you that you didn't know existed and your face flamed beneath your palms. "Sweetheart," he chuckled darkly.

Could the couch just swallow you whole?

Sirius tugged at your wrists, trying to expose your face with no avail.

"You can't see me. I'm gone." You groaned, body still alight with shameful wanting. His low voice and wandering hands did nothing to help the situation you were facing.

"Come out, come out, wherever you are." He sing-songed and you passed away on the spot. Your whole body went limp and your heart stopped. You were going to have to call a priest but even that couldn't save you. You shivered worse as his cold fingers slipped under the hem of your sweater, settling on your waist.

"Siri," You whined. "You're so mean." You heard him coo at you, voice filled with too much pity.

"Poor girl, c'mon, lemme see you." You shook your head. "Please, sweetheart. I'll be nice, I swear." He pleaded. You made no moves to expose your face, but you let your arms grow limp enough for him to pull them away. You looked at his chest, avoiding his hungry gaze. "There's my girl." He drawled. "My shy little girl." He shifted on top of you to be face-to-face, pinning you beneath him.

"How much did you read?" Your voice was so shaky Sirius didn't know if he wanted to laugh or cry.

"I read enough, trust me." He tilted your face up, forcing you to meet his eyes. You looked so insecure, fear swimming in your irises. But, what was beneath it all made him happy. There was poorly-disguised wanting buried deep in your gaze. Combined with your squirming hips, Sirius knew he was going to have fun with you.

"I'm sorry," You groaned, face alight with shame. "I didn't think you would see."

"First, you have nothing to be sorry for, silly. You can read whatever you want, especially when it's like that. 'S fucking hot, dollface." He kissed your cheek, moving down to your jaw, then your neck. "Second, I'm glad I saw it." He grinned at you, eyes seeping with dark wanting. "I'm so fucking glad. Didn''t know you liked stuff like that." He slipped the hem of your shirt up further, exposing a sliver of skin between your top and your trousers. "Tell me, sweet girl. Why were you shiftin' around underneath me?" He quirked a dark brow at you.

"No reason." Your voice was so quiet he had to strain to hear it.

This boy was going to be the death of you. Every movement he made just pushed you more and more into desperation.

"Why were you readin' that, baby?" His voice was syrupy, dripping with honey. "That something you want?" You gave him an incredulous look.

"Did you seriously just ask me if the sex scenes I was reading were aspirational?"

"What? Would you rather have said 'are you living vicariously through a main character by reading about them getting their pussy licked?''' You groaned loudly, trying to hide behind your hands again, but Sirius had a firm grasp on your wrists.

"You said you would be nice." You whined.

"Oh trust me, I can think of a way I can be very fucking nice to you." Your thighs clenched at that.

"Sirius,"

"You gonna let me? You know I've been wantin' to. Been fucking dreaming about it." He was right. Every time you messed around he had crawled between your thighs, only to be met by you trying to distract him. He always pretended not to notice for your sake, but it didn't dissipate his desire.

"You don't really want to." You muttered.

"Trust me, I do." He said, vehemently. He softened at your anxious expression. "What're you so scared of? You know I'll keep you safe, I always do." He started rubbing your thigh in a way you were sure was meant to be reassuring.

"I know you will, it's just..." You crossed your arms over your stomach. "I mean, it's just that you'll be right there." You cringed, half embarrassment, half wanting. "Like you'll be able to see everything, and smell and just-" You shook your head, cutting yourself off.

"I'm not seeing the downsides here, baby." He teased. The wanting in you just grew worse at his low voice. He looked at you with wide puppy eyes, making a spectacle of his begging. "You gonna let me make you feel nice like that? Please sweetness? I'll make you feel so good you won't even be able to think."

Oh fuck it. Your resilience snapped, giving over to the lust brewing in your belly.

"Okay, okay. Yeah, I want you to." Your face heated to an ungodly temperature and you turned to ash on the spot. Sirius' grin grew to grinch-like proportions, making you squirm even worse.

"There's a girl," He praised, leaning down to trap you in a heated kiss. His spindly hand snaked around your jaw, tilting your chin up and encouraging your mouth open even more. He was greedily exploring your mouth, pulling moan after moan from the back of your throat before you could smother your desperate sounds. You sunk your fingers into his inky hair, pulling him closer to your face as you bucked your hips into his. He pressed a final kiss to your lips before he began to mouth down your jaw, nuzzling his face into your neck and making you giggle at the feeling.

"Siri," You sighed, squirming away from his mouth.

"You sound so fucking cute." He teased. "You always do." He was pawing at your shirt, exposing more of your skin to kiss and lick, occasionally pulling back to appreciate the shiny, spit-slick skin. He slid his palms under your shirt before grasping the hem and pulling it over your head. You didn't have time to cross your arms over your chest before he was face-first in your torso, mouthing and sucking at your breasts. He held you firmly in place as you squirmed beneath him, trying your best not to tug harshly on his curls.

"Siri," You sighed as he flicked a puffy nipple with his tongue, chuckling as he tugged on your bottoms.

"I'm gon' take these off, okay?" You nodded rapidly, letting him tug the trousers off of your legs and throw them on the ground. He massaged your thigh with one hand, taking in the sight of your body under him. He was staring for a beat too long for comfort You were melting under his heavy eyes, shrinking into yourself as much as possible and covering your flaming face with your hands.

"What're you doing?" You said, half whisper half whine.

He just scoffed out a laugh. "Looking at you, babydoll. So fucking pretty, you expect me not to? 'S my favorite sight, all spread out and desperate for me. You really want this don't you?" He didn't give you time to respond, just moved to kneel on the ground, rotating you and pulling your hips to the end of the seat. You were slumped against the couch back, thighs pressed together, you whined at the accidental friction, too overstimulated between your book and your boyfriends teasing words. Your nipples were pinched and peaked in the air and you had goosebumps everywhere. Sirius laughed at your predicament, thankful you couldn't see how he was straining against his tight trousers.

"P- please. Please, Siri." You weren't sure what you were begging for. You wanted to hide, you wanted to hold him, you wanted some relief for your throbbing pussy. He just chuckled again and leaned down to trap you in a dizzying kiss, gently stroking at your jaw and neck.

"Poor baby," He teased, slipping his hand down to tentatively touch over your panties. "This okay, sweet girl?"

"Yes, please." You sighed, bucking up into his hand. He stroked his fingers over the wet crotch of your panties. Your breath stuttered, it tickled and made your clit throb. He was being mean and he knew it.

"So fucking cute." He groaned, pulling at your waistband. "Want these off? Wanna free your little pussy?" You wanted to shrink at his filthy words, but they just added more heat to your core. You nodded pathetically and covered your face to shield yourself from his grin. He pulled your underwear down your legs, allowing them to close after.

You whined at the contact of the cool couch and air on your heated cunt. Sirius chuckled again, tugging at your arms.

"Look at me, baby." He guided your hands to rest on his shoulders and urged your thighs open, tugging your hips even closer to him. He kept one hand on your waist, pinning you down while the other explored your pussy. He spread you open with one hand, looking at you greedily. You squirmed and groaned again, feeling far too exposed.

"Sirius," The word was tugged from your throat.

"Fuck, it's so fucking pretty, baby. Y' so wet, smell so fucking good, you were needy for a long time, huh?" He crooned, stage-pity written all over his features. "Want me to make it better?"

"Please," You moaned, barely recognizing your own voice. He just smirked at you again, before diving into your cunt. He licked at you like he was starved, making obscene sounds in the back of his throat. His tongue wiggled through your folds, setting all your nerves on fire. The slurped his way up to your clit, wriggling his tongue and flicking at the stiff bud. He gave you a harsh suck before pulling away, your slick shining on his pretty face.

"My poor girl, y' all swollen and sensitive. You were needin' this for a long time haven't you? Shoulda eaten this little pussy so fucking long ago. 'S so fucking sweet, you're gonna have a hard time getting me to stop." He went right back to lapping at your core, pulling more strained moans from your belly. You didn't know if you wanted to keen into his tongue or run away from overstimulation. You did your best to wriggle your hips in his hold. He released one hand to trail it down to your pussy. He pulled away, licking his lips.

He thumbed cruelly at your swollen clit, pinching lightly it before slipping his fingers to your entrance. He stuck two fingers, middle and marriage into your soaked hole, exploring your walls for the spot that will make you scream. He doubled down on his efforts when he found it, sucking and flicking at your clit with twice the vigor. Fluids gushed from your pussy around his fingers and he greedily allowed his tongue to lap it up. Your whole body tightened, growing more and more tense by the second.

"Shit, Siri." Your thighs shook and your back arched. You threaded your fingers into his humid-frizzy hair, suppressing the urge to press his face deeper into you.

"That feel nice, yeah?" He whispered against your cunt. "I feel you clampin' on my fingers, sweet girl. You gonna cum for me? You wanna give it to me?" He was borderline begging, like it was more for him than for you, like it was his sanity on the brink of shattering.

"I wanna, wanna cum so bad." You whined, tingles spreading through your pussy.

"Fucking do it, baby. Cum on my face." He flicked his tongue while fucking his fingers up into you. You shook and spasmed in his arms. He was pinning you to the couch, holding your legs open to do his work. You squeezed his fingers, gushing even more.

"Shit, Siri. 'S so much." You bucked harshly and the pleasure intensified painfully. His tongue was dragging through your overstimulated folds. You pushed his head away from your aching pussy, making him whine upsettably. He settled to continue finger-fucking your cunt. You squirmed and moaned.

"That's so fucking hot. Y' little pussy is all sensitive." He cooed, clearly not sympathetic as he continued massaging your walls. You grabbed his wrist, making him stop his movements. He relented, pulling his fingers out before giving a parting lick to your swollen folds. You whined and he chuckled darkly, resting his chin on your tummy to look up at you, pupils blown out. You looked so fucked out his heart clenched.

"Thank you. Thank you." You muttered. Going shy under his gaze.

"Aw, you're welcome sweet baby. You were so good for me. My good girl." He praised, sitting up to pull your mushy form into him. You soaked in his touch greedily, hungry for affection in your post-coital state. "You doing okay, babydoll? Are you cold?"

"No, 'm okay." You muttered into his neck. You sat back on the couch, whining at the wet spot you left on the leather.

"What's wrong, baby?" He asked, looking over your naked form. You looked down shamefully at the shiny spot between your legs. He laughed loudly, stroking your pretty face.

"I made a mess." You said, miserable.

"It's okay, sweet girl." He smiled kindly at you, before kneeling down and licking the spot away. You whined loudly and covered your face. "Aw, you shy? It's okay, I'll clean up my mess." He licked the couch again and you thought you would die on the spot. He just laughed again.

[xxblairexxss]

Swimming lesson

Pairing : dad!Charles Leclerc x mom!reader

Theme : Fluff

Words count : 1.7k

Requested!

It was your daughter’s first time in the water and she needed Charles’ help to overcome her fear.

Short one that is full of fluff since my next one is gonna an angst

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"Blue!" She squealed and pointed her little finger at the blue whale on her swimsuit while you tied up her hair into braids. When she went to her dad, you had no idea what Charles did, but she came back with a very funny-looking hairstyle that made your little one look as if she just got into a fight. Despite that, she was very satisfied because Charles kept on saying she looked cute with it.

"It’s a blue whale! Can you turn around?” She turned, facing you, and you smiled when you saw her little dimple, the same one as her dad, right on her cheeks. "You are all done! Go and get daddy!"

"Dada!" She skipped in joy and ran to get your husband, who had gone into the pool first to ‘check the water’, he said.

"Mommy! Swim?" She ran back to pull on your hand as you approached the swimming pool right outside of the hotel room. You caught Charles’ gaze, smirking as he saw you in the one-piece swimsuit, as if he had never seen you before.

"Stop staring at me. I have a husband.” You commented and dipped your legs in the water as your little girl followed your act. Charles cackled as he moved and got in between while being in the pool.

"Mommy’s not giving me a chance at all, right, princess?" He felt the little hand on his cheeks as she giggled, with no urge to understand what it was all about. "Right! It’s your first day of swim class. Stand up!" 

She stopped tittering right away as Charles switched his mood; her little hands stopped clapping as she hugged your arm, eyes looking away from her dad’s.

"Daddy’s joking around, sweetheart. It’s alright." You sent an angry stare towards the guy as he chuckled before taking the little hands from grasping your arm.

"I’m kidding, love! Come here." He extended his arms as she cautiously jumped into the water, straight into his embrace. Charles had put on her pink, flamingo-printed arm and chest life vest beforehand to help her float in case she got in the water without anyone’s supervision.

She looked back at you and smiled, only when you grinned at her. She was scared; you knew it, but Charles had been wanting to send her to swimming class, but she needed to get used to the water first.

"Can Daddy let you go?” He kissed the flushed, chubby cheek before his grasp went a little loose around the little one, which caused her to freak out.

"N—no. Dada, no! No!" Her bottom lips were pushed forward while she tried to grab Charles when she felt like floating away.

"Okay, okay! You are okay, princess. See?" He tried to let go of her once again but gave in as she started to weep, his hands flapping to get back in his arms. "It’s okay! It’s okay, I got you."

"I want mommy..." She turned towards you, her little arm still wrapped tightly around his neck, as she started to sob even more.

"Aw, what’s wrong, love?" You picked her up when Charles brought her back to you as she clambered to sit on your laps. Her head moved a little when you wiped away her tears.

"Here comes a shark!” Charles came in front of you with his hands clapped together on his head which acted like a fin, causing your little girl to cry even more.

"Really, honey?" You laughed along with Charles and cradled your little girl’s head as she weeped in your arms. "It’s okay, sweetheart. Look! It’s just daddy."

"It’s just me, baby. Look. Daddy is the shark. There’s no actual shark in here!” He got closer and tugged on the chubby hands to get her attention. "Come here, sweetheart. I’m not going to let you go this time. Promise.” He clapped on his hands, inviting her to get in the water again, but she shook her head furiously and tried to cling on to you even more.

"I don’t want...” She mumbled against your chest.

"But Daddy’s waiting for you? I thought you wanted to swim with Daddy. It’s okay." You cupped on the cheeks and kissed on her head as she started bitting on her nails, still slightly agitated. Her eyes went on her dad, who was waiting for her to calm down.

"Are you scared?” Charles asked, though he knew what the answer was. He rested his chin on her fluffy little legs as she quivered in her arms.

"This much.." She pulled her hand away and pinched her chubby fingers to show how scared she was as Charles cackled and made her giggle in tears by acting like he was trying to eat the cute hands.

"But dada is here with you. See? Or do you want mommy to get in the water too?” Charles closed his eyes as you moved your hand closer to his face to brush his hair away. "Honey, do you want to get in?” Your hand that was stroking his hair was pulled into his as he moved a little further away to give you some space.

"No! No!" Seeing the way you scooted closer to the edge, the little one on your lap started becoming more agitated as she tried to get away. She even stepped on your lap a little rough just to get away, which made you halt and wince a little. "Mommy no!"

Charles wasn’t expecting her to go frantic. She didn’t even touch the water yet; it didn’t even reach your full knee when she went all anxious. She even accidentally pulled on your hair just to try and get away. Your neck was a little red from his daughter's belligerent attempt to get away. "Okay, baby—" He made a little jump to push himself out of the pool, seeing he wouldn’t be able to take the matter into hand if he chose to stay in the water and sat by your side as he picked her up, stopping her from tossing and turning in your arms. "Hey, princess. It’s okay, love. I got you. It’s okay." He mumbled the words over and over as she hugged him, one hand on his daughter’s back, stroking on it to sooth down her cries while his other hand was on yours. "No more swimming? Should we stop? Do you want to stop?” He asked once she stopped crying, guessing she didn’t want to go back into the water, but she shook her head, telling the dad that she still wanted to, though her expression was telling otherwise.

“But dada don’t let go.." She replied, hiccuping between her words.

"Okay, dada’s not letting go this time. Pinky promise?" Charles and you chuckled, seeing the way she struggled to bring out her little finger to lock with her dad’s. "There you go! Good girl." He brushed his lips on the forehead hidden under the bangs after the successful pinky promise before picking her up to let her stand by the side. "Daddy will go in first, alright?"

She gave a slight nod, her hand rubbing on her red, rudolph-like nose, which was put to an end as you softly held the little hand.

"Okay, sweetheart. Ready? We’ll take it slow, okay?” Charles extended his arms, waiting for his little one to brace herself. Instead of jumping her way in like before, she sat back down and plopped into the water, with your hand hovering on her back in case she freaked out again. "Good job, baby! You are such a brave girl. Can you swim to Daddy?" Charles was just a hand away from her, but he stopped drawing her straight to his arms after seeing her try to kick her feet with a smile this time.

"Dada, I can't.." The dimples on the little girl’s face faded away when she realised she was going nowhere; she didn’t even budge from where she was a second ago.

"I’m right here, princess. Daddy’s right here. You can come to me.” He said, taking a step closer as she kicked her feet even more and grabbed on Charles’ hand. "You did it, baby! Good job! See? It wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You smiled, silently watching those two in their own world as your legs flapped in the water. He always knew how to calm her down; it was as if he was born to be a dad that you often joked around by saying he used to have a secret kid with someone else because he just knew how to respond and act whenever she threw a tantrum or losing control of her emotions.

"Honey, are you okay?” Charles’ hand on your kneecap pulled you away from your daydream.

"Yeah? Yeah, I’m fine! Why are you asking that?” You looked to the side, checking on your daughter, who was busy playing with her ducklings by the side, her back leaning against you as her little chubby feet kicked the water at times.

"Sorry for freaking our little girl out. I didn't expect she would act like that.” He rested his arms on your lap while you played with his hair. The hair that looked like a shade of light brown when it got under the rays of sunlight, just like the hair of your little girl by your side.

"It’s alright, honey. She didn’t mean it.” You laughed, seeing his worried expression. He always got too worried about everything.

"Let me see?” You bended down, allowing Charles to see the side of your neck, thinking he was being extra apprehensive when he had a different intention.

"Charles!" You yelled out when the next thing you felt was his arm on your waist, pulling you straight to the water and completely drenched every strand of your hair. Right after you took a breath of relief, he earned a slap right on his bare chest. "You are so mean!"

Charles and you looked towards the little one as she giggled, both hands filled with her small ducks. "Daddy mean!"

"Right, baby?! I thought Dada actually cared about me.” You rolled your eyes, feet moved further from trying to get away from him, but he moved his arms on your waist, legs got in between yours.

"I’m sorry, baby! Are you sulking? He laughed, lips went to trail kisses on your jaw with your face tilted away. "I’m sorry, baby. Can’t leave you to be the only one dry amongst us." He smiled, seeing the way the ends of your lips tilted up despite the little frown you had. "Am I forgiven?"

"A little." You laughed and pulled away when he caught your lips with his.

“Take your shower with me. I’ll help you wash your hair—“ Charles looked to the side as he heard the sweet, adorable voice cried out.

"Ducky!" Your little girl pouted, leaning a little to catch her duck toy that started floating away while you went in front of her, afraid she would accidentally fall in the water despite the safety vest.

"Dada got it!” Charles grabbed it from floating further to the centre of the pool, and before he could make his way back to his wife, he saw the rest of the ducklings started floating away as well, making your little one whimpered.

"No, my ducky!" She stomped her feet, hands went into a clench fist, looking adorably distressed that she couldn’t catch any of it, but ended up laughing with you after seeing the way her dad struggled to catch all of them at once.

"Daddy looks funny, right?” You whispered.

"Yes! Dada cute!" She covered her mouth and giggled, her small palm wasn’t big enough to cover her dimples.

“Honey, I could use some help?” Charles looked at his wife and remarked.

[navybrat817]

The Dad Diaries: Welcome Home

Pairing: Dad!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky reflects on the first night with his son home and puts his thoughts to paper.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff, reflecting, first time dad, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a dad, okay?).

A/N: Welcome to The Dad Diaries! This AU will focus on Bucky and his relationship with his son (and you!) ❤️ Thanks to the beautiful @whisperlullaby for giving this intro a look and assuring me it wasn't garbage, but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky stared intently at the open blank journal that sat in the middle of his office desk. He had picked up the pen a few minutes ago, but hadn’t written a single word. Why did he feel stuck? Better yet, what was he thinking by doing this? Reading often came easy to him, but writing? That was something else entirely.

It was also something he wanted to do.

He ran a hand over his face with a sigh and wondered if he should call it a night, crawl into bed with you, and try tomorrow. No, he didn’t want to push it off before he even began. Glancing at the monitor, he heard your voice in his head, a memory of something you told him in the early stages of dating:

The best writing comes from the heart. Write what you and your heart love because no one knows that story better than you.

Bucky had plenty of stories to tell. How he became a hero and a good man after years of pain and darkness. Or how he fell in love with you and became your husband.

And his newest adventure of becoming a father.

He wasn’t sure how to be a dad yet, but he knew he loved his son. That was more than enough to start. And with a smile tugging at his lips, he put the pen to paper.

Hey, Nugget,

My name is James Buchanan Barnes. Most people call me Bucky. Your mom calls me her husband and I’m the luckiest man in the world for that, especially since she gave me the greatest gift I could ever ask for: you.

Your name is James, too. Your mom doesn't know if we’ll call you Jamie or JJ, but I have a feeling you'll hear a bit of both. And one day, I’ll get to hear you call me Dad. Or Dada or Daddy or Papa.

Whatever makes you happy.

He paused in his writing when he thought he heard something on the monitor. His eyes flickered to the screen again and he breathed a little easier when he saw that his baby was still sleeping soundly in the middle of the crib. It wouldn’t stop him from checking on him later, just to be on the safe side.

I’m so glad you’re home. In fact, tonight is your first night in the nursery. I hope you like it here. To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson: “A house is made with walls and beams: a home is built with love and dreams.”

Yeah, your old man likes to read. Maybe you will, too. I even have an original copy of The Hobbit and would love to give it to you when you're older.

Books lined the far wall of Bucky’s office, many of them worn from the amount of times he read them. He made sure Jamie’s room had a reading nook, too. It was one of the only things he asked for when the two of you designed the nursery.

I hope you get enough sleep tonight. Your mom, too. You both did great at the hospital and deserve all the rest you can get.

Would you believe me if I said I was a nervous wreck when I brought your mom in, but tried not to let it show? People call me strong, but I don’t think I ever witnessed true strength until I saw how steady of a rock she was. She blew me away, which didn't surprise me. She amazes me every day.

Hearing your first cry stopped my heart and brought tears of joy to my eyes. After nine months of waiting and talking to your mom’s stomach, you were finally here. And seeing her hold you made me fall in love all over again.

Sorry if that sounds sappy, but it’s true. She looked right at me with happy tears in her eyes and said, “Bucky, look! Look at what we made! It's our little Nugget!” and my heart swelled. She insisted on calling you that and it rubbed off on me. Believe me when I say that you are the luckiest baby in the world to have the mother that you do.

He stopped writing again to glance at his wedding band, smiling all over again. He thought your love filled his heart before, but it overflowed now. It warmed him like nothing else ever could.

You’re probably wondering why I’m writing this since a lot of time will pass by the time you read this. Sometimes I may write to remember things I’m afraid I’ll forget. Other days I’ll write to reflect and get the words out when my mind is too loud. But my hope is that this will be a gift to you.

A bond for the two of us.

As you grow, I’ll fill the pages with the memories of you and our family. I’ll tell you about my past and how it shaped me into the man I am today. How your mom and I met and how I somehow convinced her to fall in love with me. And I’ll be sure to tell you about the day she told me we were going to have you and how that news changed my life for the better.

He swallowed the lump in his throat before he continued.

I also plan to fill this with your milestones. Like your first smile. Is it selfish if I hope to see it first? If not me, your mom. She’d love that. Your first step. Being selfish again, but I hope it’s me you walk toward so I can pick you up and tell you how proud I am. And your first word. I hope it’s Mama.

Though I won’t object if you say Dada.

Bucky chuckled as he imagined the look of betrayal on your beautiful face if your son said “Dada” first instead of “Mama”.

I’m sure some days I’ll have more to say than others. If I’m lucky, I can pass on life lessons and words of wisdom. Some days though I may not say the right thing and I know I’ll stumble along the way as I figure out how to be the best dad to you. I say “best” and not “perfect” because perfection doesn’t exist. Except for you and your mom.

The beauty of it is that I don’t have to go it alone. I’ll have your mom by my side to help guide and protect you and to watch you flourish. And my hope is that you know as you look through the pages how much we love you.

Even on days I may not get it right, I’m your dad, you’re my son, and you’ll always have a home with me and a place in my heart.

I’ll write more when I can, Nugget. Until then, I love you.

Always,

Dad

Bucky set the pen down as he exhaled. It wasn't perfect, but it didn't have to be. It was a start. As long as he put his heart into his words, it would shine from the pages.

And he couldn't wait for all the adventures he’d have with his little Nugget.

I hope you lovelies are excited to take this journey with Bucky. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[starsjulia]

shattered dreams // leah williamson

a/n : i long angsty one i wrote a while ago, enjoy!!!

warnings : angst, pregnancy, essential tremor.

Essential tremor, also called benign tremor, familial tremor, and idiopathic tremor, is a medical condition characterized by involuntary rhythmic contractions and relaxations of certain muscle groups in one or more body parts of unknown cause.

---

The early summer sun streamed through the open window of their cozy London flat, casting warm rays across the room. Y/N sat at the piano, her fingers dancing over the keys as she played a melody she’d been working on for weeks. The notes filled the room, rich and vibrant, each one flowing seamlessly into the next. It was a song she had written for Leah, capturing the love and joy they had found together.

As she sang the chorus, Y/N’s voice soared, filling the space with a sound that was uniquely hers—strong, emotive, and full of life. She could hear Leah moving around in the kitchen, humming along to the tune, and the familiar rhythm of their daily life brought a smile to her face. This was her happy place, where everything felt right with the world.

But as she reached the final verse, something strange happened. Her voice wavered, the note faltering as if it had lost its strength. She frowned, adjusting her posture and taking a deep breath before trying again. But the same thing happened—her voice quivered, not with emotion, but with something she couldn’t quite place. Frustration bubbled up inside her, but she pushed it down, chalking it up to a rare off day.

Shaking her head, Y/N moved her focus back to the piano, her fingers gliding over the keys. But now, the familiar movements didn’t feel as smooth as they usually did. Her hands seemed to tremble slightly, causing her to hit the wrong notes. She stopped playing, staring down at her hands as if they belonged to someone else.

“What’s wrong with me?” she muttered under her breath, shaking her head as if to clear away the strange sensation. She flexed her fingers, trying to rid them of the slight tremor that seemed to have taken up residence there. But after a few moments, it faded, and she convinced herself that it had just been her imagination.

Later that night, as they lay in bed, Leah noticed the frown on Y/N’s face and the way she kept flexing her hands as if they were bothering her. “Everything alright?” Leah asked, her voice full of concern.

Y/N hesitated, unsure if she should mention the odd experience from earlier. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said finally, forcing a smile. “Just a little tired, I guess.”

Leah gave her a look that said she wasn’t convinced, but she didn’t push. Instead, she reached over and took Y/N’s hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “If something’s bothering you, you know you can talk to me, right?”

Y/N nodded, feeling a rush of guilt for not being completely honest. “I know,” she murmured, squeezing Leah’s hand back. “It’s nothing, really.”

But as the days went on, the symptoms didn’t go away. The tremor in her hands became more frequent, and her voice seemed to waver more often when she sang. There were times when she couldn’t hit the high notes that had always come so naturally to her, and it felt like her voice was slipping through her fingers like sand. She started to avoid singing certain songs, fearful of hearing the cracks and wobbles that had begun to plague her.

Y/N tried to hide her growing anxiety from Leah, not wanting to worry her. But Leah noticed the way Y/N would stare at her hands in frustration, the way she hesitated before picking up her guitar or sitting down at the piano. Y/N’s passion for music, which had always been the most vibrant part of her, seemed to dim slightly, and Leah’s concern grew with each passing day.

One afternoon, Y/N was in the studio, recording a new song she had written. As she strummed her guitar, she felt the now-familiar tremor in her fingers. She tried to ignore it, focusing on the music, but when she went to sing the chorus, her voice cracked and wavered so badly that she had to stop.

“Damn it!” she cursed, yanking off her headphones and tossing them onto the console in frustration. She sat there, breathing heavily, her mind racing. This wasn’t just nerves or tiredness—something was wrong, and she couldn’t deny it any longer.

Leah had been listening from the control room, watching through the glass as Y/N’s frustration boiled over. She pushed open the door, walking over to where Y/N sat, her face pale and her hands trembling.

“Y/N,” Leah said softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. “We need to talk.”

Y/N looked up at Leah, her eyes filled with fear and uncertainty. “Leah… I don’t know what’s happening to me,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “I can’t control it… my hands, my voice… it’s like they’re not mine anymore.”

Leah knelt beside her, taking Y/N’s hands in hers. “We’re going to figure this out,” she said firmly, her voice steady even as worry gnawed at her heart. “But first, we need to see a doctor.”

Y/N nodded, too overwhelmed to argue. Deep down, she had known for a while that something was wrong, but hearing Leah say it out loud made it real in a way she hadn’t wanted to face.

---

The visit to the doctor was tense, both Y/N and Leah filled with a mix of dread and hope. The doctor ran a series of tests, his calm demeanor doing little to ease their anxiety. Y/N sat on the exam table, Leah’s hand firmly in hers, as they waited for the results.

When the doctor finally returned, his expression was serious, and Y/N felt her heart drop. “Y/N, the tests show that you have what’s known as essential tremor,” he said, his voice gentle but direct. “It’s a progressive neurological disorder that primarily affects your hands and voice. Unfortunately, it’s likely to worsen over time.”

Y/N stared at the doctor, her mind reeling. “My hands… my voice… what does that mean for my music?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The doctor sighed, clearly aware of how devastating this news would be for her. “It will become increasingly difficult to perform fine motor tasks, like playing instruments or writing. As for your voice, the tremor can affect your ability to speak and sing clearly. We can explore treatments that may help manage the symptoms, but there’s no cure.”

The room seemed to close in around Y/N as she struggled to process the information. Her music—her life’s passion, the thing that had always been her solace and her joy—was being stolen from her, piece by piece. She felt Leah’s grip on her hand tighten, but it couldn’t chase away the growing despair in her chest.

“And the pregnancy?” Y/N asked, her voice breaking as she placed a hand on her stomach. “Will it… will it affect the baby?”

The doctor shook his head. “The condition shouldn’t have a direct impact on your pregnancy or the baby’s health. But as the tremor progresses, it may affect your ability to perform certain tasks, like holding the baby or caring for them in the way you’re used to. It’s something you’ll need to consider as you prepare for motherhood.”

Y/N felt tears welling up in her eyes, the weight of the diagnosis crashing down on her all at once. “But I… I won’t be able to hold my baby? Or sing to them?” she whispered, her voice filled with anguish.

Leah’s own tears finally broke free as she wrapped her arms around Y/N, pulling her close. “We’ll find a way,” Leah said, her voice shaking but determined. “We’ll figure it out, I promise. You’re not alone in this.”

But Y/N couldn’t hold back the sobs that tore through her. The future she had envisioned—of playing lullabies for her child, singing them to sleep, holding them close—was slipping through her fingers, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

---

In the weeks that followed, Y/N and Leah tried to adjust to their new reality. Y/N began working with a therapist to manage the tremors and explored different medications to help control the symptoms. But it was an uphill battle. Every day brought new challenges, new reminders of what Y/N was losing.

The joy of their pregnancy announcement, which should have been one of the happiest times of their lives, was overshadowed by the relentless progression of Y/N’s condition. As her hands grew more unsteady and her voice more fragile, Y/N found herself retreating from the things she had once loved. She avoided the piano, left her guitar untouched in its case, and stopped singing around the house.

Leah watched Y/N’s light dim, her heart breaking for the woman she loved more than anything in the world. She did everything she could to support Y/N—attending every doctor’s appointment, helping her with daily tasks that had become increasingly difficult, and constantly reassuring her that they would find a way to make it through this.

But no matter how hard Leah tried to be strong, there were moments when the weight of it all became too much. Late at night, when Y/N was asleep, Leah would slip out of bed and sit alone in the living room, her head in her hands as she silently cried, overwhelmed by the fear and uncertainty of what lay ahead.

---

One evening, as Y/N sat on the couch, absently rubbing her belly, Leah joined her, sitting down and taking her hand. “How are you feeling?” Leah asked softly, her thumb brushing gently over Y/N’s knuckles.

Y/N sighed, leaning her head against Leah’s shoulder. “I’m scared,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’m scared that I won’t be able to be the mother I want to be… that I won’t be able to hold our baby, or sing to them, or… or be there for them the way they need me.”

Leah’s heart ached at the vulnerability in Y/N’s voice, and she wrapped her arms around her, holding her close. “You’re going to be an amazing mother,” Leah said, her voice filled with conviction. “You’re so full of love, Y/N, and that’s what our baby is going to need more than anything. We’ll figure out the rest together, I promise.”

“But what if I get worse?” Y/N whispered, her fear breaking through. “What if I can’t… what if I lose my ability to even hold them?”

Leah’s grip tightened, her own tears spilling over. “Then I’ll hold them for both of us,” she said fiercely. “We’ll adapt, we’ll find ways to make it work. You’re not alone in this, Y/N. We’ll do this together, just like we’ve done everything else.”

Y/N nodded against Leah’s shoulder, though the fear still lingered, a dark shadow that refused to be banished. But Leah’s words, her unwavering support, were a lifeline Y/N desperately needed. She wasn’t alone in this, and maybe, just maybe, that would be enough to help her find a way forward.

---

As the weeks passed, Y/N and Leah began to find a new rhythm, though it was far from easy. Every day brought new challenges, new reminders of what Y/N was losing, but they faced it together, holding on to each other through the darkest moments. Y/N started working with a therapist, learning how to manage the tremors as best she could, and finding new ways to express herself through music, even if it wasn’t the same as before.

One day, after a particularly difficult session with her therapist, Y/N came home to find Leah sitting at the piano, softly playing one of Y/N’s old compositions. It was a song Y/N had written early in their relationship, filled with the joy and hope of new love. Leah’s fingers moved clumsily over the keys, and Y/N could see the concentration on her face as she tried to play the familiar melody.

Y/N stood in the doorway, watching Leah’s awkward attempts to recreate the music she loved. And despite everything, she felt a small, fragile smile tugging at her lips. Leah looked up, catching sight of Y/N, and immediately stopped, blushing slightly.

“I was just… trying to learn,” Leah said, looking a bit sheepish. “I know I’m not as good as you, but I thought maybe… if you couldn’t play, I could learn and play for you and the baby.”

Y/N’s heart swelled with emotion, and she crossed the room, sitting beside Leah on the piano bench. “You’re amazing,” Y/N whispered, her voice thick with gratitude. “Thank you for this. For everything.”

Leah smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to Y/N’s temple. “We’re a team, remember?” she said softly. “We’ll find our way through this, no matter what.”

And as they sat there, side by side, Leah’s clumsy notes filling the air, Y/N felt a glimmer of hope return. Their future might be uncertain, and there were still so many fears to face, but they had each other. And for now, that was enough.

---

As Y/N’s pregnancy progressed, the reality of her condition became more and more apparent. Her voice grew increasingly unreliable, and the tremors in her hands worsened. Simple tasks, like cooking or writing, became difficult, and Y/N often found herself needing Leah’s help. It was frustrating and heartbreaking, but Leah never once wavered in her support.

One evening, as they lay in bed, Y/N felt the baby kick for the first time. She gasped, grabbing Leah’s hand and placing it on her belly. “Leah, did you feel that?” she whispered, tears filling her eyes.

Leah’s eyes widened as she felt the tiny movement beneath her palm. “I did,” she whispered back, her voice full of wonder. “That’s our little one.”

The baby kicked again, and Y/N laughed through her tears, the sound filled with a mixture of joy and sadness. “I just… I want to be able to hold them, Leah,” she said, her voice breaking. “I want to be able to take care of them, to sing to them… but I’m so scared I won’t be able to.”

Leah wrapped her arms around Y/N, holding her close. “You will hold them,” she said fiercely. “You will take care of them, and you will sing to them, even if it’s not the way you imagined. We’ll find a way, Y/N. We’ll do this together.”

Y/N buried her face in Leah’s shoulder, clinging to her as the reality of their situation threatened to overwhelm her. But Leah’s words, her unwavering support, were like a beacon in the darkness, guiding Y/N through the fear and uncertainty.

---

As the months passed, Y/N and Leah prepared for the arrival of their baby. They attended birthing classes together, decorated the nursery, and talked about their hopes and dreams for their child. But beneath the surface, the fear of the unknown lingered, a constant companion that they could never quite shake.

Y/N’s condition continued to progress, and there were days when the tremors were so bad that she couldn’t even hold a cup of tea without spilling it. Her voice, once so strong and beautiful, had become shaky and unreliable, and she struggled with the loss of something that had always been such a fundamental part of her identity.

But through it all, Leah remained steadfast. She learned how to care for Y/N in ways she had never imagined, adapting to their new reality with a determination that only made Y/N love her more. And in those quiet moments, when it was just the two of them, Leah would remind Y/N that they were in this together—that no matter what happened, they would find a way to make it work.

---

The day finally came when Y/N went into labor. It was a difficult and exhausting process, but Leah was by her side every step of the way, holding her hand and whispering words of encouragement. When their baby was finally born, the sound of their tiny cry filled the room, and Y/N felt a wave of emotion crash over her.

The nurse carefully placed the baby in Y/N’s arms, and for a moment, everything else faded away. Y/N stared down at the tiny, perfect face of their child, her heart overflowing with love and awe. She had been so afraid that she wouldn’t be able to do this, but in that moment, all she could think about was how much she loved this little person in her arms.

Leah sat beside her, tears streaming down her face as she looked at their baby. “You did it,” Leah whispered, her voice filled with pride and love. “You’re incredible.”

Y/N smiled through her tears, looking up at Leah. “We did it,” she corrected softly. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Leah reached out and gently stroked the baby’s cheek, her heart swelling with love for her family. “I’m so proud of you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to be an amazing mother, Y/N. I know it.”

As Y/N held their baby close, she felt the weight of her fears start to lift. Yes, her condition would be a challenge—there was no denying that. But in that moment, she knew that she could do this. They could do this, together.

And as she looked into the eyes of their child, Y/N made a silent promise. No matter what the future held, no matter how hard things got, she would be there for them. She would love them with everything she had, and she would find a way to be the mother they needed.

Because at the end of the day, that was all that mattered. And with Leah by her side, Y/N knew they could face anything.

---

Time passed, and life with their new baby became a mix of joy and challenges. Y/N’s condition continued to progress, and there were days when it was incredibly difficult. But they found ways to adapt, to make it work. Leah learned how to support Y/N in ways that allowed her to be the mother she wanted to be, even if it wasn’t exactly how they had imagined.

And through it all, Y/N never stopped singing. Her voice wasn’t as strong as it used to be, and there were times when it would shake or falter, but she sang anyway. She sang lullabies to their baby, softly and gently, her love for them pouring out with every note.

Leah would often join in, her voice blending with Y/N’s in a harmony that was imperfect but beautiful in its own way. And in those moments, as they sang together for their child, Y/N knew that they had found a new kind of music—one that was born out of love and resilience, one that would carry them through whatever challenges lay ahead.

They faced their future with hope and determination, knowing that no matter what came their way, they had each other. And that, in the end, was enough to keep them moving forward.

Together.

[libraryofgage]

Addams Family B-Side (1)

Part of: Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually Debbie and Fester Addams One (you're here!) Rick and Evelyn O'Connell (on the way!)

This is part of a series of unrelated works entitled "Steve Deserves Good Parents, Actually" and I think that title is fairly self-explanatory. If there are any other couples you think would be good parents for our Stevie boy, let me know and I'll take them into consideration!

Anyway, the B-Side thing is because this is like taking my Addams Family Steddie au and just flipping the cassette tape hfjsdk

This time, it's Steve that's the Addams and Eddie that's normal!

Anyway, blame @whatthemeepever for this one specifically cuz it's gonna spiral into a wild ride actually, so let's all pray for Eddie in advance

If you'd like a tag for any future parts, let me know!

And, as always, if you see any typos, no you didn't

-------

The moment Steve is born, his father sticks a light bulb in his mouth. When it glows, he jumps with joy and throws Steve into the air. The moment Steve's mother realizes what's happening, she slaps his father upside the head, throws the light bulb at him, and threatens to blow him up again if he sticks anymore into Steve's mouth before he starts teething.

She follows through on the promise exactly two weeks later, and Steve's parents (one smug and the other notably singed but delighted) rebuild their house next door to his father's brother.

Steve's mother chooses his first and last name (Harrington, a reference to some long-lost family friend or other), and his father is reluctantly given the freedom to choose his middle name. In the end, he is dubbed Steve Faustus Harrington, a name his mother is so surprised to find acceptable that she kisses his father as a reward.

And so begins Steve's life.

------

"I can't believe you got expelled," Steve's mother seethes, gripping the steering wheel so tight her knuckles turn white. "Again!"

Steve crosses his arms, sinking lower in his seat as he glares out the window. "It's not my fault they were shitty friends. They got what they deserved."

He hears his mother laugh, the sound strained and indignant and very quickly followed by his father turning to look at Steve from the passenger seat. His sunken eyes are filled with suppressed delight as he asks, "What did they do this time?"

A few seconds pass before Steve sighs. "They said they couldn't go out later because they had to study for finals. I mean, what kind of bullshit is that? Finals are three weeks away, and they can't spare one weekend for the funeral museum?" he says, scoffing as he looks at his father, grins, and adds, "So, I brought the funeral museum to them, coffins and cremations and all."

His father's eyes light up, sheer joy and pride dancing in them. And for the very first time in Steve's life, his mother pulls over to the side of the road and parks the car.

"Pumpkin?" his father asks.

"Fester," she says, her voice low and somewhere in the range of upset, "do you remember when I tried to kill your entire family?"

"Of course. It was a splendid attempt."

She nods and looks at him with a tiny, somewhat pained smile. Then she turns and sets her gaze on Steve. "Darling, what kind of grades do your friends have?" she asks. "Because if you're anything like me, and I know you are, you tend to befriend people who are significantly dumber than you."

Steve blinks, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, most of them were about to fail," he admits.

"Then, isn't it possible they really were studying for finals? Especially if they were close to failing at a school where passing is a requirement of attendance? Perhaps you could have suggested going to the...funeral museum after finals?"

A few seconds pass as Steve considers her words, a crushing sense of realization and guilt dropping on his shoulders and traveling to the pit of his stomach. It makes him feel nauseous, and he stares down at his lap. "I fucked up," he finally says, voice quiet and apologetic.

"Of course not!" Fester says, reaching out and ruffling Steve's hair despite the affronted noise from Debbie, "Your plan was beautifully conceived and masterfully executed. Perhaps you should just talk a little more before pulling out the urns next time."

"Incredibly, your father is right," Debbie says, looking pleasantly surprised before turning her gaze to Steve. She sighs and holds out a hand, squeezing Steve's when he takes it. "Don't get so blinded by a beautiful pair of shoes that you completely miss the sale two aisles over, Steve. At the very least, do a little more research before resorting to torture and murder. Personally, I'm very tired of calling the family's lawyer."

Steve snorts at the utter lie. Debbie loves calling the family's lawyer. She does so regularly just to double-check the state of Fester's stocks and bonds and deeds and general worth. "Okay," he says, nodding once, "I'll remember for the next school."

"You know," Fester says, looking at Debbie hopefully, "Pubert is a senior this year. Maybe Steve could go to high school with him."

Debbie hesitates, frowning slightly before saying, "Yes, but it's...public school."

"The best Gomez and Morticia could find! It was highly recommended by Margaret, and Pubert can make sure Steve adjusts and makes friends."

Steve can see the moment his mother agrees. She sighs, lets go of his hand, and fixes her already perfect bob. "Well, I suppose," she says before looking at Steve once more. "And you, Steve? Would you like to try...public school for your junior year?"

"Sure, might be fun," Steve says, thinking about all the movies he's seen that display public high schools as a zoo and the worst place on Earth. It sounds great, and if the place is still standing while Pubert attends, it must be somewhat entertaining.

------

"You've got everything you'll need?"

Steve looks up from lacing his shoes and smiles at his mother, earning a nervous grin in return. Her blonde hair is uncharacteristically frazzled, and Steve feels warm and fuzzy (like a mold growing over his heart) at knowing she's so worried as to appear less-than-perfect in front of him.

"Yes, I've got everything," he says, gesturing to the backpack on the stairs next to him. In addition to notebooks and his pencil case, Steve has also packed a travel mace, a miniature bomb (alarm clock detonator stored separately, of course), a tiny bottle of tequila, and his lucky lightbulb (just in case).

His mother nods once, takes a deep breath, and then turns her head toward the kitchen to shout, "FESTER!"

Something crashes, a cat (they don't have a cat) yowls, and Steve's father slides into the doorway. "Yes, Pumpkin?" he asks, eyes bright and happy and utterly stuck on Debbie.

"Is Steve's lunch ready? You made something normal, right?" she asks, one eyebrow raised.

Fester glances at Steve, a brief look shared between them that's both sympathetic and endeared toward Debbie. "Of course," Fester says, disappearing for two seconds before striding over to the stairs with a pink lunch box decorated with black skulls (Steve chose the color, Fester chose the pattern, and Debbie gave them her stamp of approval). "A turkey sandwich, fruit, cookies, and juice."

"Fruit?" Debbie asks, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Apple slices!"

After a few seconds, Debbie nods, and Fester gives the lunch box to Steve, shifting some so Debbie doesn't see the conspiratorial wink that tells him the juice is definitely poisoned. Steve grins and shoves the lunch box into his bag. He finishes lacing his shoes and stands, holding his arms out so his mother can inspect him.

"You've done a wonderful job pairing your shirt and shoes," Debbie says, walking around Steve with an air of pride and approval. She rubs the sleeve of his pastel yellow sweater between her thumb and forefinger, nodding once. "The plum pants are a bold choice, but it pays off. And, as always, your hair is flawless, dear."

Steve grins, letting his arms fall to his side. "I tried that new mousse you gave me," he says, fingers twitching as he fights the urge to run them through his hair. "It works great."

His mother smiles even wider and kisses his cheek, pulling out a handkerchief and carefully wiping away the lipstick residue she leaves behind. "I knew it would," she says, inspecting Steve's face once more before nodding with approval.

"Pumpkin, it's time for Steve to go. Pubert is waiting."

Debbie huffs softly and gives Steve one last once over before nodding and hurrying him toward the door. "Have a good day at school, try not to blow anything up, and call me if Pubert tries to cut off your head with a rusty knife again," she says.

"What if it's a clean knife?"

"Well, that's fine. Grandmama will just sew it back on."

Steve grins and waves to both of his parents before hurrying toward the sidewalk where Pubert is waiting. His hair is parted down the middle and gelled down, his pencil-thin mustache is immaculate as ever, and he's wearing a three-piece suit. When Steve is closer, he pulls out two cigars and offers one.

"This isn't an exploding cigar again, right? I'm wearing a new shirt," Steve says, taking it and looking it over.

"Nah, that joke only works once," Pubert says, dragging a match against his palm to light it. He holds it to his cigar first, puffs a few times, and then does the same for Steve. "How long till you get expelled again, you think?"

Steve shrugs as he takes a puff from the cigar, letting the smoke linger for a moment before skillfully blowing it out in perfect circles as they walk. "I haven't been to a public school before," he says, tapping the cigar over the sidewalk, "so, hopefully, at least a year."

"Public school is fun," Pubert says, getting a wicked grin as he looks at Steve. "You can get away with a lot."

"And the other kids?"

"Well, they've certainly got a lot to learn. I mean, most of them can't even handle a little cyanide."

Steve scrunches his nose and takes another puff of his cigar. After a few seconds he asks, "Will we have any classes together?"

"You're a year below me, so maybe an elective or two. What did you sign up for?"

"I signed up for, uh, shop class, forensic science, and Gothic literature."

"We'll have Gothic lit together," Pubert says, flashing a smile before asking, "And you know what shop class is, right?"

Steve blinks, suddenly a little hesitant. "Is it not, like, something about shopping?"

"No. It's building things. With wood, usually."

"Oh! So, I can build anything?"

"I guess. I haven't taken it."

"Well, I'll find out. Maybe I can build Dad a catapult or guillotine or something."

As they get closer to the school, more students fill the sidewalks, but Steve notices that most of them seem to give him and Pubert a wide berth. They also stare, looking at Steve like he's some kind of puzzle to be solved, with more than a few flashing sympathetic smiles like he's trapped and can't get away. "You're popular," Steve notes, taking one last puff of his cigar before dropping it into a trash can.

"I would fucking hope so," Pubert says, finishing off his cigar and tossing it into the next trash can they pass. "I didn't flood the place with roaches and vermin to not be known."

Steve grins, listening as Pubert regales him with the tale only to cut it short when they get inside the school and pass the front office. "I need to get my schedule, but Mom said she made sure we'd have lunch together," Steve says.

Pubert waves him off. "Yeah, I'll meet you in the cafeteria. Have fun, cousin," he replies, mockingly saluting him before heading off down the main hall.

-----

Steve's first class of the day was AP Calculus, followed by AP Physics, Wood Shop, and AP U.S. History. When it's finally time for lunch, he surveys the cafeteria for a few seconds before finding a table in a dark corner that everyone seems to avoid. By the time he gets there, Pubert has sat down with a tray from the lunch line.

Steve sets his backpack on the table, sits down, and says, "For a place that's so lifeless, it's not even fun."

"Yeah, it's like that," Pubert agrees, poking some unidentifiable mush on his tray with a spork before spooning some into his mouth.

It's with a somewhat jealous expression that Steve pulls out his lunch box and removes a thermos of poisoned juice. "Is it bad?" he asks, nodding to the tray.

"Utterly repulsive."

Steve sighs and takes a sip from the thermos before pulling out everything else in his lunch box. "They made me wear safety goggles in shop. Safety goggles! It's like they don't know how fun splinters in the eyes are. And everyone is soooo scared of the saws, it's ridiculous," he complains, taking an angry bite of his sandwich.

"What about your other classes?"

"Physics would be better with more practical examples. I mean, who cares about apples when we could learn if a body falls faster than a cannonball?"

"From experience, no," Pubert says, "Anyway, you gonna join any clubs?"

"Maybe the swim team? If I'm lucky, I'll drown," Steve says, perking up a little at the thought.

"Best of luck with that," Pubert replies, stealing Steve's thermos to take a sip of his juice. When he places it back, he offers Steve a sporkful of the mush.

Steve lights up and happily tries it, wondering how something can be so perfectly undercooked and overcooked at the same time. "Impressive," he says, passing the spork back. "Is that freezer burn?"

Before Pubert can answer, a bang from the other side of the cafeteria cuts off all other sounds. Steve glances over to see a boy in heavy combat boots climbing onto his table with a mischievous grin. He's wearing a shirt with a devil head on it and "Hellfire Club" emblazoned above and a vest with spikes, pins, and patches. His hair is just below his shoulders and a little curly, and Steve can see from here the wild glint in his eyes as he stomps down the table while talking.

"I'm tired of the double standards of this lame school. If you're into science or band or some other 'uncool' interest, the administration couldn't give two shits! Oh, the choir room needs new risers so the current ones don't break any necks? Well, that's too bad, we've got to give the football team new monogrammed towels for the locker room!" the guy says, grinning when a group of kids to the side shouts their agreement. "And never mind that our Robotics team has won the school three trophies when the basketball team so valiantly scraped into third place last year for being kinda good at throwing balls into laundry baskets."

"Prick!"

Steve glances at the guy who shouted, taking in his letterman jacket before quickly dismissing him. He looks back in time to see the boy on the table sticking out his tongue and holding his hands to his temples to make horns. There's an even wilder look in his eyes now, a sheer glee at causing a scene and getting under someone's skin.

Steve doesn't realize he's smiling until the boy scoffs, shouts one more line about the school's unfair preference for "mediocre jocks," and hops off the table. He looks over at Pubert and asks, "Who was that?"

Pubert glances at Steve, studying him for a moment before swallowing another mouthful of mush and saying, "Eddie Munson. He does that once a week, usually."

"Eddie Munson," Steve murmurs, glancing over at Eddie's table again and smiling a little wider.