#do i snag it or nah

[goldentigerfestival]

Knowing how much Yuri tics with "ma" and "oi" just fills me with life and joy.

[chuluoyi]

✎ unconcealable

- gojo satoru x reader

your boyfriend may not show it, but the six eyes are his burden to bear. you know it firsthand when he falls into your arms for the first time

genre: teen!gojo, fluff, hurt/comfort, flashback and fast-forward to dad!gojo later

note: hello hello i’m alive~ i have this little thing of fluff/comfort pampering in my head throughout my vacation and it’s been a long time since i last wrote about teen!gojo so here it is :D will proofread later when i get the chance!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

Back in 2006—

“Satoru, move away—”

“Nuh, uh! I’m staying! You’re too soft~”

“Satoru, If Yaga-sensei walks in… he’ll think we’re doing something indecent!”

“Mmm, don't care~”

This is the gym. Anyone could walk in. And yet your boyfriend of three weeks, Gojo Satoru, claimed his place by resting his head on your lap and squeezing his eyes shut so comfortably… like a cat.

You sighed, vexed and almost giving up— and then you noticed just how good-looking he was. Not that you just realized it now, but his long eyelashes, his smooth skin, white hair...

You have snagged a heartthrob. Or at least he could be if it wasn't for his questionable tendencies.

“Satoru, I’m being serious,” you griped, blinking back your pounding heart and starting to get anxious if anyone would see the two of you on the floor, with him over you. “Get up. Now.”

He knitted his brows together. “So stingy... Can’t your dashing boyfriend get five more minutes?”

“No. Up. Now.” You learnt by experience that the more you indulged Satoru, the more you would be inclined to comply as well. So before he dragged you into that hole...

“Hmph! No!”

“I’ll really flip you if you don’t move—!”

And that’s finally when he cracked his eyes open, totally pouting. “So mean! My head is hurting, you know! I just want to rest a bit!”

You were somewhat taken aback by his little outburst but he really got up this time, and then he stalked away, mumbling complaints.

"Some girlfriend you are... so not considerate..." he pursed his lips together, seemingly hurt as he made his way out.

That almost annoyed you greatly, and you were about to retort back when to your shock, he suddenly clutched his head and staggered. "Ahh—"

"Satoru!"

You sprinted to him and caught him as he wobbled, supporting his weight.

"Are you okay? What happened?!" you were so spooked that you went down with him to the floor again. And you immediately pulled him to you when he heaved a shuddering breath.

"I'm okay—" he said in a pant, pressing his eyes together so tightly. "I'm okay, I'm okay! Don't—"

"You're not, you idiot!"

Something with his eyes. It just dawned to you that he didn't wear his sunglasses today, and by instinct, you wrapped your arms around him, pressing him close to your chest.

"Is it hurting badly now?" you worriedly asked, keeping him tight in your embrace. "Do you want me to get you something?"

Contrary to your worries, what Satoru was more focused on was the exponential warmth that enveloped him. He had a migraine for a while there, but you so easily anchored him, making it somehow hurt less.

"You said Yaga-sensei will catch us and think we're having sex," he sullenly accused to hide the sudden blush spreading quickly on his face. "You didn't care about me just a minute ago."

"That's... a minute ago!" you hissed. "Now I'm worried!"

Your response made him smile despite himself. Satoru found comfort in the darkness of being squished against your boobs... perhaps way more than he thought he would.

"Then let me stay like this for a while. I'll be okay in a jiffy, 'kay?"

"Hmm," you hummed, absent-mindedly stroking his soft hair. You started to feel bad for chasing him away earlier, and squeezed him. "Does your head hurt often?"

"Whoa, it's only when I'm like this that you'll touch me so openly," he responded with a mock sigh, and you fought the urge not to roll your eyes. "Poor me."

"Poor you indeed. So answer me, does it, or does it not?"

"Nah, it's just how it is sometimes. Just some side effects of my eyes, you see."

"Why don't you wear your glasses today?"

"...Nanami broke them after I ate his last doughnut."

"You..." you almost giggled, and yet so exasperated at the same time. But the way Satoru squeezed your waist to hug you in return made you spare him.

You two stayed like that for a while, and when the bell rang to indicate the start of the next period, you asked him again. "Are you okay now?"

"Mm-hm, yeah, much better."

"Then let's go back to your class. I'll help you go there."

"Ehh..." But Satoru, ever the stubborn one, just buried his face into you, holding on tight and not letting go at all. "No."

You frowned. "Why—"

"Don't wanna move~ your boobs are just too good..."

"—? What—"

"They're soooo soft. Seems jiggly too? Ah, my pain is healed! Oh! When we get married, will I get to bite them too—"

"Satoru, you!"

Long story short, you two missed the next period just because Satoru nagged you to stay with him... and at the end of it all, the ones who opened the doors to the gym were Nanami and Haibara, who immediately went to report to Yaga and red-faced respectively.

Back to present—

"Time for your teardrops!"

Satoru squeezed the bottle of eyedrops, lining it up with the striking blue eyes of his six-year-old son, an cute little pumpkin who was a carbon copy of him in every way, as he laid his head on his lap.

"Mmngh," his son squirmed as the water made contact with his sensitive eyes, and squeezed both eyes shut as soon as his papa was done.

Having inherited his eyes, the boy had started to feel pain whenever he accidentally overused them. Satoru knew the feeling well, and as much as he tried to humor him, something inside him prickled whenever he saw him getting teary-eyed due to the pain.

"Still stings?" he asked with a frown. "Want to use blindfold cover your eyes, hmm?"

Your son mumbled, "...no."

"What do you want then?"

"...I want mama."

Satoru snorted, pinching his boy's plump cheek fondly. "Same, kiddo. I want mama too."

The little boy cracked his eyes open out of spite. "You always bother her everyday."

"It's not as if you do not but whatever." Satoru pursed his lips as he stared at his boy. "If only I can put those rotting grandpas in elderly home, your mama can be freed from missions."

The kid snuggled close to his lap, seeking comfort, and suddenly, he felt flash of warmth burst inside him, realizing that his little munchkin wanted him to make him feel better.

"Look, I'm not mama, but I can do this too—" he hoisted his son, and hugged him close, hiding his little face into his sturdy chest. "Here you go. Better?"

The little baby that forever connects him to you. Satoru loved his son as much as he loved you.

He had no one to really comfort him in the early days of misusing his eyes— they only told him that it was the price for the greatness he would possess. Until you did. You didn’t speak of power or strength. Each time he suffered from those migraines back then, you would hold him close.

And so, he'd be damned if the same thing happened to his precious son. He wouldn't let him be told that—he would do his best to soothe him, to make him feel safe.

"Tomorrow we're getting kikufuku, yeah?" he said with a smile, patting his son’s back gently. "And ice cream too."

"Mmm... 'kay..." the boy replied. "Papa... sleepy..."

"Then sleep, kid. I'll wake you when mama comes back, yeah?"

You. The baby. The two of you were always the center of his world. As he too drifted off to sleep beside his son, he thought that chasing after you was most definitely the greatest decision he made from that blue spring that would never return in his life.

Epilogue

"I'm home!"

Your mission ended with a bang as you completely obliterated the cursed spirit. You went home with a spring in your steps, thinking that your silly husband and cute son would be waiting for you in this afternoon.

But no one greeted you back, and you found yourself walking to your master bedroom, only to be floored by the sight.

Satoru had dozed off so unguardedly, but he had one protective arm over your son, who was also sleeping. They looked like a pair of twins, and the way your son curled up to your husband melted your heart so much that it brought a wide smile on your face.

Click! Click! You took several photos so you would be able to look at their sleepy state whenever you wanted. But as you marveled at the photographs, suddenly a sneaky hand yanked you—

"Whoa—!"

"Shh, you'll wake him up, mama," Satoru sleepily grinned as he smooched your face. "You took so long, I missed you."

"I finished one day early," you huffed, but then your expression softened as you gazed at your sleeping son. "Seems like both of you are getting along well while I was gone~"

"I fed him mochi and cookies, of course he'll be obedient."

"—! I told you he'll get cavities soon if you don't limit the sweets intake!"

"Oh? Then we just have to have another baby who won't get cavities just as you wish then~"

"That's not how it works! Satoru, you—!"

[zarameraki]

˖°🕷️ ࣪𖤐 𝘁𝗼𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗻𝘆 ˖°🕷️𖤐

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 unprotected sex 𖥔 single dad x nanny 𖥔 porn with plot 𖥔 banter 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 praise 𖥔 shower sex 𖥔 bj 𖥔 certified pussy eater 𖥔 daddy issues 𖥔 dirty talking 𖥔 small pillow talk 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 2.7k

: ̗̀➛ notes: wrote this one a while ago and decided it was time to get it out of the drafts. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

“After the prince and his princess defeated the scary, ancient dragon, their kingdom lived happily ever after.”

With a smile, you closed the storybook, glancing over at Megumi, peacefully asleep in his crib. Your fingers brushed against his velvety cheeks before you tucked him in snugly and quietly left his room.

The jingle of keys echoed through the air. 

Toji stepped into the apartment, his appearance dishevelled and weary of another demanding day at the construction site. He shed his hefty boots and lumbered into the living room. Catching sight of you, a faint grin settled on his lips. “He asleep?”

“The dragon story always knocks him out cold.” You took his bag and set it down by the couch as he shrugged off his jacket, letting it fall onto the bar stools. “Long day?” 

“Too fucking long.” He yanked open the fridge door, retrieving a container of leftover pasta and a beer. You joined him in the kitchen, leaning against the counter and cracking open the can for him. “One of the machines decided to call it quits halfway through. Spent hours waiting for the mechanics to patch it up before we could even think of wrapping up the foundation.” 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Zenin.” Your gaze shifted to the scattered construction toys that Megumi often indulged in. “With tomorrow being the weekend, maybe you could take some time to unwind and spend quality time with Megs.”

Toji let out a derisive snort as he warmed up his food. “Always appreciate you looking out for us, sweetheart.” 

“Hey, babysitting is my job.”

He took the beer can from your hand and affectionately pinched your cheek. You grinned with your nose scrunching up. “My paycheck isn’t gonna be here until next week. Is it cool if I can pay you a little late? I’ll double it to make up for it.” 

“Nah, you’re good. I can wait. Megumi’s my favourite little client.” You tucked your hands into the pockets of your jeans as Toji grabbed his dinner and brushed past you. “Jesus, Mr. Zenin. You smell like cement.” 

“Cut me some slack, kid.” 

“I’m twenty-two. Not a kid.” 

“If you’re younger than me”—he jabbed his fork in your direction—“you’re still a kid. Capiche?” 

“Eating pasta doesn't grant you Italian citizenship,” you teased. He rolled his eyes as you snatched your backpack. “Well, I’ll see you Monday evening, then.” 

“Leaving so soon?” 

You quirked a brow and raised your phone. “It’s ten in the evening.” 

“That’s early. Come on, stay and grab a bite. Wanna share?” 

Your stomach rumbled in agreement. And hey, a little extra time with Toji wouldn’t be the worst thing. Among all the parents, he was the only one you felt at ease being around late at night. He felt more like a good friend than just another guardian.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You set down your bag and snagged an extra fork, sliding onto the stool beside him. He placed the container between you two, ensuring you got enough of your separate fill.   

“Your feeding your fucking hair, sweetheart,” he commented, collecting your hair back. His fingers brushed over the side of your neck making it hard for you to swallow. 

“Thanks,” you mumbled, quickly gathering your hair into a ponytail. Toji continued to chew slowly, his gaze fixed on you. “What?” 

“You always had a mole there?” He pointed below your jaw where a prominent beauty mark tattooed your skin. 

“I’m offended that you’ve just noticed now.” 

He finished chewing. “You don’t tie your hair up often.” 

“Would you like me to?” You twirled your spaghetti around your fork.

“I like your hair down,” he admitted, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary. “But maybe not while we’re eating. Don’t want them getting dirty.” 

You rolled your eyes and took a large bite, cheeks puffing out as you chewed.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Toji grumbled, swiping away the speck of tomato sauce from the corner of your mouth. His tongue darted out to clear it, followed by another swipe of his hand. The tomato sauce probably matched the colour of your skin from that gesture. “Ever thought about hiring a nanny for yourself?” 

“No, but I might have someone to take care of me in a month.” 

Toji paused and dragged his eyes towards you. “Who?” 

“Just a boy from my class,” you replied nonchalantly, poking your fork in the meatball. “He’s cute, sure. Plus, he’s a hockey player. Basically the epitome of the perfect, conventional, bring-home-to-mom-and-dad kind of guy.”

Toji took a deliberate sip of his beer. “If that’s what you’re into.”

“You say it like you’re an expert on my taste.”

“I’ve known you for a year, darling. You never struck me as someone who’d go for a poster boy.” 

“Then who do you think I’d go for?” you asked softly. Green eyes locked with yours in a tense silence. “Since you seem to have me all figured out.”

Toji stole a quick glance at your lips, then darted his eyes toward the door of his son's bedroom. He fought back the surge of temptation bubbling up inside him, tightening his grip on the beer can in his hand. “Maybe I haven’t gotten to know you well enough.” He went to take a bite but you quickly interrupted by grasping his hand and guiding his fork toward your mouth. 

With the spaghetti twirled around it, you brought it to your lips, savouring the taste as you chewed slowly, all the while locking eyes with his emerald gaze. He observed your throat as you swallowed, his attention now fully magnetised by your flushed face.

As you licked the sauce from the corners of your lips, and wrapped your mouth around your thumb to clean it, Toji’s pulse quickened. “I’m an open book for you, Mr. Zenin.” You rose from your seat, reaching for your backpack. He couldn't tear his gaze away, transfixed by the sight of your ass. “Have a wonderful time beating yourself off to my pictures tonight.” 

Toji’s gaze flickered to his undeniable bulge straining against his jeans, a curse slipping past his lips. Downing his beer as you moved away, he pushed off the stool, closing the distance with a predatory grace, catching you in the middle of tying your shoelaces.

Your eyes widened as he backed you against the door, trapping your arms above your head. His knee insinuated itself between yours, his breath hot against your lips as he snarled. 

“He’s made dinner reservations at an Italian restaurant next week,” you whispered. “Unless you don’t want me sharing pasta with him like it’s a fucking Disney movie, I suggest you kiss me now, Toji.” 

“God, that fucking mouth of yours.” A broad smile appeared at his lips as he pressed them hungrily against yours. Your body responded instinctively, grinding against his thigh in a desperate plea for more. Toji’s grip on your wrists loosened, his hand finding its way to your face, driving his tongue inside your mouth and flicking it against yours. 

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as he held onto your ass. Lost in the intoxication of your overdue kiss, Toji maintained some semblance of awareness, urgently guiding himself into the bathroom, where he settled you onto the counter.

Breaking away, but still holding your jaw, he smirked. “I smelled like shit, yeah?” 

You shrugged. “Cement, but close enough.” 

“Since you know it all, you’re gonna help me clean it off.”  He stripped off his shirt before reclaiming your lips once more, your hands roaming eagerly over his chest and around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. You’d waited a whole year for this. 

Toji removed your jacket, then paused to peel off your t-shirt. He unhooked your bra with a single motion, pulling you close against him. The sensation of your nipples grazing against his chest hair made you momentarily gasp for air.

“You good?” he whispered, palming the side of your head. 

“So good.” You lunged at him again. He stumbled backward, bringing you with him until you both found yourselves inside the shower stall. His muscular arms coiled around you, pulling you closer as he ravaged your mouth.

Meanwhile, you shed your sweatpants and panties, while Toji unclasped his jeans and tossed them aside along with the rest of your clothes. He briefly opened his eyes, his mouth moving in sync with your desperate one, as he reached to twist the shower faucet open.

The first layer of cold water made you shiver and break apart. You and Toji stared at one another, your gazes lowering in tandem to study your naked bodies. He was big. So big. And extremely hard. His pink tip reached up to naval. Covered in veins that pulsed at a closer look. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, sweetheart,” Toji said, stepping closer to you. Your back met the cold surface of the stall’s glass wall. His large hands cupped your breasts and travelled down to your hips. “You've been hiding all of this under those stupid looking sweaters?” 

“I happen to like my sweaters, thank you very much.” 

“Baby, they’re ugly.” 

You rolled your eyes and smiled. He continued to laugh at his own comment until you gripped his dick. 

He stopped immediately. 

“What’s wrong, Mr. Zenin?” Your hands moved in an elevated pattern. “Cat got your cock?” He planted his palms on either side of your head. You added twists and rolls, ones that had him at your mercy. Then you sank down onto your knees and swirled your tongue around him, sucking him off. He was breathing hard and fast, and his fingers gripped your hair. “Fuck my throat until I can’t speak for a week.” 

Toji snapped. 

He thrusted deep, deep down your throat and relished in the gagging sounds you made. “Holy fuck, baby. You’re so good at taking my cock.” Your nail sank into his hips, eyes rolling back to your skull. He forced you to open your eyes by pulling at your hair. “Fucking look at me, you little slut.” He shoved himself deeper and held your face against his pelvis. You scratched against his skin to take a breather while choking on his hot gush of release. There was nothing to swallow when he pulled your head back, releasing his dick from the confines of your mouth. 

You coughed out, drumming your fist against your chest to regain control of your lungs. A hand wrapped around your arm and stood you up. 

Toji held your jaw and inspected you closely with a twinge of concern. “Was I too hard on you, doll?” 

You nodded but raised a thumbs up. “Fantastic.” Probably the best blow-job you’ve ever given—even if Toji was mostly in control. 

His lips met yours in a soft kiss, allowing the water to wash away at your bodies. He massaged his fingers through your scalp, and, in contrast, gave your left asscheek a sharp slap. “Turn around. It’s my turn to eat.” 

Your chest pasted against the glass wall. Toji pressed himself against your back and slithered his hand down to cup your pussy. He grunted in your ear delivering a slap to it and hearing you squeak from the impact. His fingers pinched your clit and parted your folds. Easily, he fitted two fingers into your hole. “Jesus. You’re so fucking tight. No one’s been in this pussy before, baby?” 

“A few,” you said. “But they were smaller.” 

Toji curled his fingers inside of you. “A dirty whore like you needs something bigger. Don’t you, doll?” You moaned against the glass, your cheek pressed to the surface. “Tell me, baby. You need my fat cock to stretch out your tiny cunt? Need me to shape it to my cock’s size?” 

“Y-Yes—ah.” You arched your back the second his calloused thumb started circling your clit. “Fuck, Toji—oh, fuck. Faster.” He drove in a third finger and his free hand clapped over your mouth to suppress your cry. 

“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed in your ear. “Can you do that for me, doll?” You nodded and he pushed you forward, kneeling down and spreading your asscheeks. “My pussy. You hear that? This is my fucking pussy.” He dragged his tongue over it and up to your little puckered hole. 

You were high on the sounds of him slurping at your release, sucking your folds into his mouth, and teasing your asshole with the tip of his tongue. This was not how you imagined your Friday night to go, but you weren’t gonna complain. You’ve been fantasising about this moment since Toji caught you putting up babysitting flyers in his neighbourhood. 

“My dick’s gonna break off if I don’t put it in now.” He wrapped your hair around his palm and positioned himself at your entrance. “Ready, doll?” 

“Fuck me, Toji. Please.” 

He could get off on your begging alone. 

His hips thrusted forward, his cock filling you to the hilt. He pulled back out and drove in—repeatedly, relentlessly. His palm came down with a bruising slap on your ass without a break. Toji wasn’t going to be satisfied until they were discoloured, until you couldn’t sit down for days. 

Seeing you wanton and moaning his name flicked a switch in his brain. He was going to brandish you in a way that you wouldn’t leave him for weeks. Months. Years. You’d be at his side until your children were arranging your joint funerals. The strange feeling inside his chest felt foreign, almost hindered the speed at which he was rutting in you. This was his first time fucking you after a year of pining and jerking himself off to your picture and he was already envisioning a romantic-movie montage. 

Toji leaned his face back so the water washed away the vision. Then he pulled out and turned you around, kissing your gasping mouth. He entered inside you again, hoisting one leg up. His fingers pinned you in place by your throat while violating your—his—pussy. 

“I’m gonna come inside you,” he breathed out over your swollen lips. 

“Do it.” 

Toji suppressed his groan by crushing his mouth against yours, a guttural growl producing from his throat. His release was everlasting, filling your inside to the brim. You came crashing down, holding the back of his hair and breaking away to breathe. His face nuzzled in the crook of your neck, equally panting. Those large hands settled on your throbbing ass as he completed the last bits of his ministrations. 

 You were both out of breath as you stared at one another. 

Toji blinked when you hugged him around his torso. His arms remained frozen at his side, glimpsing down at your crown. You looked up with those big, doe-eyes and a full-blown smile. Oh, he was so fucked. 

The remainder of the night was spent washing and drying each other, before tangling your naked bodies in bed. 

Toji continuously kissed your lips, his hand running up and down your back. You laid atop his chest, his cock buried within you as you gently rowed your hips back and forth. He planned to keep it nestled in you for the rest of the night. 

“Spend the weekend with me,” he murmured, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “We’ll go out for dinner at an Italian restaurant with Megumi.” 

“Yeah?” You pecked his nose. “We’ll look like a little family.” 

“That little shit already considers you his mother.” 

You chuckled and brushed the tendrils of hair away from his forehead. “Maybe another time. College’s been kicking my ass. Gotta catch up on those assignments if I wanna graduate with honours.” 

Toji found himself desolated. “Can’t you just study here?” 

“Not with two babies whining and crying for my attention.” 

He gave your ass a light smack. You feigned a wince making him caress it immediately. 

“But I can come over in the evening,” you said. “We can go out for ice-cream.”

He smiled at the fact that you were going to make time for him and his son despite your busy schedule. “Ice-cream it is.” 

You laid your head down on his shoulder and adjusted yourself comfortably on his cock. “Goodnight, Mr. Zenin.” 

“Goodnight, doll.” He rested one hand on the back of your head and the other massaging your ass, staring up at the ceiling where his vision played for the rest of night. 

Toji smiled. 

[nonranghaes]

"i bought something today." you step into chris's makeshift studio, bag hidden behind your back. "do you wanna see?"

chris looks up, tugging at the edge of his beanie. he clicks a few things, then turns to face you fully. "sure! is it another bath bomb? because last time was really relaxing, and i wouldn't mind cuddling--"

"it's not," you stop him, then pause for a second. "... but i'll keep that in mind next time i'm at the store. so." you pull the bag out from behind your back, reaching in to reveal the ugliest little plushie chris has ever seen. it's this brown scorpion with heart-shaped eyes, and it looks more dopey than cute, but chris knows you. he knows you saw it and fell in love with how dumb it looks. the tiny smile you're giving him now is proof enough. "... well?"

"he's kinda ugly," he says with a slow nod, as if appraising him like a piece of art.

you just smile bigger, brighter than before. "i know, right?!" you toss him over to chris, who catches him with relative ease. "he was on sale. i think he was some sort of valentines day plushie that someone pawned for a couple bucks. i just couldn't resist snagging him since he was marked down even further."

"did you name him?"

"nah," you lean in, pressing a quick peck against his cheek before making your way over to the couch. "left that up for you. i like when you name things."

"well," chris sets the plushie into his lap. "i love him. i'll get back to you on the name, yeah?"

"yeah, yeah," you sprawl out on the couch, phone in hand. "i'm gonna stay in here for a bit. that fine?"

he nods, already pulling his headphones back on. "might have you listen to something later for feedback," he says, settling back into his chair. "but sure. i work better when you're around."

"sap."

he smiles to himself as he presses play. he is. he's your sap.

[luv4berry]

my eyes only.

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader

SUMMARY: miles belleves that you're for him and for him only, no sharing. not even with your best friend.

GENRE: angst to fluff

WARNINGS: bickering/arguing, suggestive(?), kissing, idk if this counts as toxic miles lowkey right in his anger but at the same time is he fr, jealous miles, y/n is lowkey a walking red flag, cursing, man idk

AUTHORS NOTE: the autism is rlly autisming with this movie </3

“baby you not stupid and i know you aren’t, why you acting like that?”

“miles, leave me alone.”

“nah, cause i already told you ion like him, why you still talking to him? you fuckin’ with him or sum?” he narrows his eyes at you, clasping his hands in between his legs while cocking his head to the side.

“im not having this conversation with you, call me when you done having your lil tantrum or whatever.” you ignore your boyfriend's scowl as you slide to the end of his bed and silently load everything into your coach tote bag, incoherently mumbling to yourself.

“the childish shit im talking about man.” he shakes his head, twin braids following suit. he gets out of his rolling chair, snagging the bag from your hands and holding it above his head where you can’t reach.

visibly annoyed, you roll your eyes at the tantrum he was throwing. before you had even dated him you laid down all possible icks, including your best friend. you told him how your relationship with said best friend was non-negotiable due to the significance he held in your life before miles. before miles, he was the one who you cried to, who you confined in about your family, your feelings, your insecurities. though after getting with miles you weren’t as close with him, he was still your best friend.

“miles give me my shit, don’t piss me off.”

“why? what you hiding? ain’t no way you not messing with him.”

in the stillness of his room, your phone rapidly vibrates inside your bag, miles interest immediately piqued when his fingers curve around the device, the name “dante <3” flashing on the screen.

he laughs to himself, but you knew better than to think it was a laugh of amusement. the manner of his laugh was deeply provoked, a telltale sign that it had an underlying meaning. he sends you a hard look, “so we adding hearts now too? bet.” he says while answering the facetime call.

“y/n?” dante calls out to you, the camera panned toward the ceiling, his ruffled locs in frame.

“nah she busy right now homeboy, what you want?”

“uh okay? can you ask her if she can retwist my hair this sunday?”

“nah.” he blatantly answers.

“huh?”

“dante hang up!” you call out from behind miles, to which he sends you another glare. before dante can respond miles hangs up, turning his whole body to face you. “so wassup?”

“miles give me my phone.”

“your phone? ma this our phone.” you roll your eyes once more and quickly snatch your phone from his grasp, shoving it into the tote bag and slipping your black crocs on. “don’t text my phone either.” you yell on your way out slamming his room door, silently praying that mama rio wasn’t home.

it was getting more and more difficult to manage the pit that sat in your bosom from the fight you had with your boyfriend earlier. you were used to talking to him in your dimly lit room around this time, your hands playing with the loose coils at the back of his head while saying cheesy things to each other, exchanging light pecks and subtle touches.

you groan loudly, tired of sulking to yourself you decide to get up from your bed, do your makeup and take pictures. you sit at your vanity, shuffling your playlist while opening up your makeup bag.

about 20 minutes into your routine, you hear incoherent voices coming from just outside your door. you tip toe towards the door, peaking your head out to see miles, helping your mom set the dinner table while engaging in small talk. “yeah, basketball’s good.” he says, smiling at her with all 32 pearly whites.

“y/n’s upstairs, ill call you guys down when dinners ready.” she smiles, coaxing him towards your room. you quietly shut the door, scrambling towards your vanity table, acting as if you had not witnessed the scene that took place just outside your door mere seconds ago.

you hear him quietly enter and creep up behind you, the mirror capturing his movements. you line your lips, ignoring your lovers presence even when he wraps his arms around your torso and repeatedly kisses your face.

“who you looking all fine for?”

you greet him with nothing but silence, putting your manicured finger over his lips which he attempts to bite.

“oh so it’s like that?”

“yeah, it’s like that, and I didn’t invite you over. go home.” you get up from your position, walking towards the door that he left open, closing it.

“what i told you ‘bout that mouth? you got all sorts of attitude today.” he argues, trailing behind you.

you scoff while crossing your arms, turning around and mean mugging him. you watch as he takes a moment and backs up, giving you a once over. the argument that had him so worked up earlier dissipated into thin air, his focus now on the biker shorts that hugged you a little too tight, and the cropped cami that hung a little too loosely. you watch a ghost of a smile adorn his lips.

“nasty ass.” you snap him out of his thoughts.

he snorts, taking a seat on your bed and pulling you in between his legs. “you still mad at me?” he questions you, raising his brows.

“it’s not gonna magically go away miles, you didn’t even try to apologize, showing up at my house at 8:00 kissing me and shit isn’t gonna fix anything.” it was the truth, and you weren’t backing down from it. you wanted an apology, you weren’t willing to go any further with him till you got said apology, you couldn’t push this to the side.

“y/n, baby, you know i love you but im not fucking with the way you making it look like im wrong for feeling the way i feel.” miles argued.

“because you are wrong! i told you about him before we even got together, you can’t expect me to drop him in 2 seconds just because you asked, he’s my best friend!” you argue back, keeping your voice down cautiously due to your nosy family on the other side of the door.

“no ma, im your best friend, you for my eyes only.”

“if you came here to argue with me you should just go.”

“we don’t sleep mad at eachother, we fixing this right now.” he says, dragging you into a straddling position atop him, his arms momentarily wrapping around your waist. your eyes dart around your room, refusing to make eye contact in fear of folding immediately.

“i just want you to put it this way, you got this fine ass girl, right? but then she got this ugly ass—“

“miles.” you warn him.

“… she got this boy best friend that she always on the phone with, always going out with, and she always wanna see him when you’re right there. she always talking about him, texting him when with you, answering his calls.” for the first time in a while you realize how off that sounds, maybe you had been the wrong one, though your stubborn nature made it hard to admit it.

he begins to speak again, “im not asking you to cut him off, im asking you to minimize how much you talk to him—im a guy and i know how we think. you might think y’all homeboys but he plotting on you, just think of it like that baby.” he finished while rubbing the skin of your thighs in slow tender circles.

“im sorry.” you quietly murmur under your breath into his shoulder. just barely loud enough so he can hear. but no, he had to hear this, you admitting you made a mistake.

he taps your thigh, “speak up, cant hear you.”

“you heard me, don’t be annoying.” you said when you realized his true intent, embarrassed by how you had previously acted.

miles snickered to himself, “ma?”

“yeah?”

“my fault for getting loud with you earlier, i didn’t mean to do all that.” he admitted, kissing your shoulder blade.

you remove your head from the crevice between his neck and shoulder, repeatedly giving him big smooches on the lips in acceptance of his apology which he gladly returns.

the moment is ruined by knocking on the door. you scramble off his lap which ultimately ends with you landing on the floor with a thud. snickers come from your bed, a deadpan expression immediately sweeping over your features.

“hope y’all not in there being nasty.” your mother calls out, “get decent and come downstairs to eat.”

love, berry <3

[angel-of-the-moons]

Chocolates vs Aliens Pt. 2

Symbrock x Pregnant!Reader

TW/CW: NSFW, SMUT, PiV sex, unprotected sex, fluff, pregnancy, childbirth, anxiety, mentioned somnophilia (consented), lactation kink(?), oral sex (f! receiving)

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

Taglist: @yoink-a-doink @jayfall93 @being-worthy @theflamingraven

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

Every day passed meant it was another day your baby girl grew, another kick, another day closer to being able to hold her in your arms and see her tiny face.

Of course, Eddie and Venom were excited, too. You guys moved fast, but everything came in stride, as if you were together for years. Despite the strange circumstances surrounding the three of you, you were content. Eddie and Venom treated the baby as if they fathered it, and you couldn't be happier. Even if you and Venom were in a constant battle for dominance when it came to chocolate. (Spoiler: you almost always won.)

You especially loved it when Venom cradled your belly. He did it at every available opportunity he could snag. Eddie meanwhile took care of a few more mundane things, splitting with Venom the duties of helping your changing body as your due date closed in on you.

Eddie would massage your feet and swollen ankles, while Venom's inky body would surround your midsection, taking the weight of the baby up off your hips, easing the strain on your back...

But your favorite day so far has to be today.

Because right now, you were currently watching Eddie and Venom snap at each other as they struggled to assemble the crib you ordered online.

No written directions were included, merely pictures of most of the crib already assembled; and the two already had to take it apart three times to start over.

"No, that part goes to that part and that one goes there!" Eddie snapped as the symbiote held a screwdriver and a piece of the railing in a long inky tendril.

Venom growled deeply, "WE ARE NEVER BUYING ANYTHING FROM IKEA EVER AGAIN!"

"No the fuck we are not." Eddie huffed. "We're better off buying furniture at a goddamn yard sale!"

You giggled from where you rocked on your reclining chair, your belly heavy and rounded out; effectively making you look like you swallowed a melon whole.

Eddie and Venom snap their heads to pout at you.

"What're you laughing at?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, we'd like to see you try to put something like this together!" Venom snorted.

"Nah, I already have my hands full putting together something waaaay more intricate." You snort back, looking through the cozy baby clothes you'd bought yesterday.

New Years was approaching, and you knew full well you would be due around then, and your poor tiny baby would be absolutely freezing! So you took the preemptive and bought little newborn winter clothes for your girl, including a cute little fluffy teddy onesie with a hood that had cute little ears on it.

"Oh, yeah?" Venom asked, narrowing his eyes skeptically.

"Yep." You pat your tummy, and the skin shifts as a tiny foot kicks from within.

"...Okay yeah fair point." Eddie chuckled, shaking his head.

"Yeahhh, mommy wins again!" You grin, patting your belly once more, earning yet another eager kick as you imagine it to be a high-five.

"What, are you keeping score now?" Eddie sighs, pointing the screwdriver at you.

"Damn right I am." You grin. "Mommy points for the win!"

"And how many points do we have?" Venom inquired, tilting his head.

"Not enough to beat meeeee~"

Both of them snorted and shook their heads, before turning back to the task of assembling the frustrating crib that would soon, very soon, cradle your newborn daughter.

If Eddie or Venom ever put her down, that is.

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

Christmas came and went in what felt like the blink of an eye. Your little celebration was small, and you even invited Mrs Chen over to join in on your festivities.

Which mostly consisted of pizza, a sandwich board, and chicken wings, plus a few homemade goodies that Ms Chen brought with her. Not the best meal idea, but it was a party, and damn those wings were good.

You and Venom even gifted Sonny and Cher a nice little seed treat you baked for them as a Christmas present for being "such good birdies".

Baking for chickens, now that was a first. But hearing their happy little clucks as Venom petted them and talked baby to them was absolutely adorable and worth the trouble. As were the large eggs afterwards!

Your mood swings had petered out about two or three months ago (you weren't sure, but Eddie insisted when you didn't break into tears watching a documentary about penguins) and unfortunately, well...

There are other symptoms of a pregnancy that you really thought you could stave off. You tried, you really did, but Venom having such heightened senses and being able to pick up on your scent and hormones? Oh, yeah. You were screwed.

Literally. In several different ways. You'd only had sex once or twice in a previous relationship, and with how disappointing that was, you definitely preferred to handle your urges yourself.

Where your ex-partner previously failed, Venom and Eddie were overachievers.

Taking great care with your belly and baby, they did whatever they could to ensure you were comfortable before making you so strung out your brain could barely form a coherent thought. Between Venom's tongue and Eddie's hands, you were a whimpering, trembling mess when the two would take you to bed.

Venom was especially ravenous in his sexual appetite. After learning more about sex and the pleasure it brought since bonding with Eddie... Where his host was a meal, you were a full-course desert that he would lose himself in.

Some nights, when he would climb through your window, he would immediately seek you out, drawn in by the lingering adrenaline from the hunt and the smell of you.

When you weren't moving about your apartment, Venom could find you in bed, sleeping fitfully. That was when he would crawl up under the blankets and find his way between your legs, not letting up until you woke up a panting mess.

Yeah, definitely the best way to be woken up, in your opinion. There were worse ways. Waaaay worse. Especially because your pregnancy-libido certainly wasn't complaining, the rush of endorphins afterwards would help outweigh the growing anxiety as the days passed.

Every day meant you were closer to your due date. Every day meant you were closer to experiencing possibly the worst pain you will ever feel in your life.

And there was the chance something could go wrong, that your baby could get stuck, or the umbilical cord could wrap around her, or she could be in a breech position...

You feel Eddie's hands gently encircle you, lazily draped over your shoulders as you sat in the shower chair, the warm water pattering over you two. It was New Year's Eve, and you two decided a calm, relaxing shower was a nice way to unwind before you poked your head out of your window to watch the fireworks people would inevitably launch to usher in the new year.

"Hey, sweets." He said to you softly, his thumbs brushing your collarbone softly. "We can feel your pulse jumping like crazy. You okay?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, I just..." You sigh.

"Liar." Eddie chuckled, bringing his large hands to your shoulders to press his thumbs into your weak spots, making you shiver and drag out a soft noise from you.

"C'mon." He urged gently as he massaged you, sending delightful shivers down your back and to your toes and all the way back up again.

"You can tell us, sweets. You thinking about the delivery again?"

You deflate a little, the bliss of his skilled hands drifting away from your grasp as the weight of your baby's birth came back to your mind.

"...Yeah. I'm just... I'm so, so worried, Eddie." You say, feeling your lip begin to wobble.

"I've read so many horrible things online of how it could go wrong, and..."

Venom's head suddenly slinks around you until his strange body is stretched so he could look you in the eyes.

"But there's also good things." He rumbled. "You might have a quick birth, not having to go through it for hours or even days..."

"And hey, you might even be one of those ladies who sneezes and pop! The baby's out!" Eddie added in, making Venom groan.

You can help but chuckle at how absurd it sounded, and you knew Venom was inwardly cringing at such a naive suggestion.

"I doubt I'll be that lucky." You sigh, a smile finally gracing your soft lips.

"Hey! You never know!"

"Idiot." Venom huffed.

"Shithead." Eddie smirked.

You feel your anxieties settle a bit, at least for now.

Your hands trail over your belly, over the thin purple lines crossing your skin, your fingers gently caressing the rising and falling bumps as your baby shifted and rolled around inside your womb.

"...Willow." Venom suddenly said.

You and Eddie blinked and stared at him, brows raised and eyes large, a long silence filling the shower as the water ran over you.

"What?" You ask him.

"For a name. You're gonna be due any day now." He purred, leaning his face closer to your belly.

"Still haven't settled on one."

"Where did you hear that name, Vee?" Eddie asked, shock evident in his tone.

"In some TV show I flicked through when you two were asleep. I like it." He replied simply, pressing his muzzle to your belly, feeling the tiny feet and hands thrash out from within.

"Okay, as far as names go that's... actually a good one." Eddie murmured.

"...Willow." You repeat softly.

It was a beautiful name. And honestly... You liked it. You had yet to pick a name for yourself, indecision being your worst enemy your entire life made the process that much harder.

Picking a name was one of your fears, too. You wanted your daughter to have a wonderful one; one she could carry with pride, and the pressure you placed on yourself to pick the perfect one was what screwed you up on that.

But this name, the one Venom suggested felt... right.

"Yeah." You smile once again. "Yeah. Her name can be Willow."

Venom grinned a shark-like grin and nuzzled his face into your belly like a happy affectionate cat, purring like one, too.

"Well, I'm glad that's a weight off of you." Eddie chuckled, resuming his earlier massage into your shoulders, earning another blissful sigh from you.

Yeah... Things will work out. After all, as long as you had these two with you, you felt like you could handle anything.

You relaxed and leaned into Eddie's touch, a little whimper escaping you as his thumbs knead into a knot in your shoulders.

Venom grinned up at you, and you knew fell the glint in his eyes meant you were in trouble.

And you knew that Eddie had the same smirk.

"No point in hiding it, sweet thing." Venom growled lowly, his tongue laving out to taste the skin on your hip, tracing the stretch marks etched into your skin.

"We know what gets you going." Eddie said quietly, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

You shivered when Venom's tongue slithered lower, past the swell of your midsection and down to your twitching clit.

"It's n-not my fault..." You whined, your voice cut off by a breathy moan as you felt Venom's tongue squirm past your entrance and into your tight, gummy walls.

"Of course not." Eddie hummed, massaging your shoulders as you arched your spine as little as you could; Venom's inky body slinked around you, enveloping you and keeping you from slipping off the shower chair in the process while he proceeded to eat you out with voracious hunger.

Eddie hissed suddenly, his fingers halting in their ministrations to squeeze you softly.

"Eddie, what--" You panted.

But that's when you felt it. The water was getting cold.

"Maybe we should move this to the bed, hm?" Venom cackled.

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

"Eddie, fuck..." You whimpered fingers gripping tight into your bedsheets as Eddie rutted his nose against your clit, his lips and tongue dancing through your soaked folds as his hands pawed at your hips, bringing you down closer every time you squirmed away.

As Eddie devoured you, part of Venom's mass was completely surrounding his cock, sucking and stroking in time with his tongue as it pushed and pulled against your weeping cunt.

It was too much, and not enough at the same time. As much as you wanted more, you also wanted to push him away because the sensations were beginning to become too much for you to handle.

Your eyes were rolled back into your head as you felt that blissful feeling begin roll into a roaring crescendo, threatening to overtake you and make your heart patter out of your lungs.

God, you wished your belly wasn't in the way so you could see what he looked like between your legs. One day, soon.

Or, well... At least once you were fully recovered after the birth. Which would probably be a while.

You were so lost in Eddie's mouth working you over that you didn't notice Venom leering at you, saliva dripping around his fangs as his eyes narrowed to barely-there slits, focused intently on your heaving breasts; both long since swollen and sensitive as your milk came in.

You certainly didn't notice the small beads of hazy white liquid beading up and threatening to roll down the soft mounds of flesh as your orgasm approached.

"Oh, fuck--" You gasped, weakly rolling your hips to meet Eddie's eager mouth.

For a split second, you hear Venom snarl softly, before all of a sudden his mouth was on you, latching onto your pebbled nipple, his tongue rolling and squeezing your breast to get out every drop of that sweet liquid he could.

"Fuck." Eddie groaned, pulling back to breathe heavily.

Venom made sure Eddie could taste your milk as he drank from you readily, the flavor coating his tongue and flooding his taste buds to combine with the sweet taste of your nectar that coated his face and chin.

It was an intoxicating combination.

Eddie's eyes rolled a bit as he dove back in, aggressively sucking and nipping at your clit, gently prodding your entrance with his fingers as Venom proceeded to try and drain your breasts of all their milk.

All at once, the combined feelings had your mind blacking out, every muscle tensing as you came; your teeth snagging your bottom lip between them and you made a loud moan, barely able to string their names out of your mouth as they helped you ride out your orgasm.

Eddie pulls his mouth away from you and rises to his knees while Venom pulls himself free (albeit reluctantly) of your breast, licking the stray rivulets of milk that had begun to run down the sides of your tits.

"So sweet, love." He purred, licking his chops. "But we need more."

Venom's head merged back into Eddie's body, his inky mass slinking down his arms until it was comfortably arching your hips and back off the bed while Eddie rutted his sensitive cock against your sensitive cunt, still fluttering and clenching around nothing as the remnants of your orgasm waned.

But every lazy stroke of his hips sent little bolts of lightning arcing through your nerves, stretching out the little aftershocks just a bit farther as he carefully slid his cock into your hungry cunt.

"Fucking tight." Eddie hissed through clenched teeth, his eyes pinching shut.

"Not gonna last long, sweets." He rasped.

Between Venom working his cock over and edging him while he ate you out, and how your silky wet heat enveloped him so wonderfully tight, he could already feel himself getting lost in your body.

"Eddie, please..." You keened, your fingers going to grip at his wrists, your nails digging into his skin with each plunge of his cock into your needy hole.

He was careful with you, trying not to jostle you (and the baby) too much as he fucked you.

You felt the pressure build up low in your belly once more, squeezing down and sending another tight feeling down your spine as you became hyper-aware of every vein in his cock as he glided in and out of your hole.

"Almost, baby, almost..." Eddie breathed, wriggling one of his wrists free so he could brace it in the pillow by your head to give himself a bit of leverage as he rocked his hips into yours.

He could feel his orgasm climbing fast; sweat dripping down his brow as your delicate hands slid over his shoulders. The way you bit your lip and locked eyes with him only drove him further into no man's land.

"Fuck." He moaned weakly, his pace stuttering and dragging out as he felt the first volley of cum shoot out of his sensitive tip.

He had enough control to pull out, rutting his hips over your belly as the rest of his cum shot over your swollen belly and twitching pussy, his cock once more rutting against you as he came hard.

Your teeth grit and your nails dug in as Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck, panting hard into your damp skin as you feel a sensation you were almost familiar with burst low, a fresh burst of wetness gushing from you are the pressure on your lower spine builds and tingles.

"Oh, fuck." You swallow. "Eddie."

"Yeah?" He asks, pulling back to look down at you with an almost cocky smile on his face.

"I think my water broke."

He and Venom both immediately began to panic.

"WHAT?!"

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

The scrambling to get to the hospital moved by you in a blur. One minute Eddie was hastily dressing you in one of your sundresses, slippers, and a pair of panties, the next you were carried like some sort of fairytale princess down to the car park.

Good luck getting an ambulance out to your place tonight...

Eddie and Venom bickered the whole time to your car, your hospital bag prepped and slung over Eddie's shoulder as he guided you down to your car.

They sat you in the passenger seat and helped you buckle in as the first set of contractions ripple through you. As the pain flashed, you couldn't help but be reminded by your earlier concerns.

You read that some women felt pain for days, or hours before their water broke. Why were you only feeling it now? Was that a bad thing? Was something wrong?

Fuck, you knew it would hurt, but... you weren't prepared for the sudden sharp stabbing. You expected it to start as a throb and build from there, not immediately start out like someone was hacking away at your lower half.

When you arrived at the hospital, Eddie had actually slipped and busted his ass on the freshly mopped floor in his haste to fetch you a wheelchair.

You would have laughed, if you hadn't been gripping the safety handle in the car, screaming as another sharp jolt stabbed through you.

A few nurses even chased him out, harping about how he could have a concussion from falling, but quieted when they saw what had him in such a frantic rush.

Your baby girl was coming, whether you were ready or not.

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

It had been close to four hours, and you were almost ready to deliver; nearly fully dilated, as your obstetrician cheerfully announced, a smile so cheerful and calm you almost kicked her in the face.

She was less impressed with Eddie, however, as she pulled him out of the delivery room to talk.

"We'll be right back, luv." She assured you sweetly.

"Uh... Is--is everything okay? You were saying they were okay, and--" He blurted out nervously.

"No, no, she's fine." She assured him, pushing her glasses up her nose once more.

"Then what..."

"I couldn't help but notice how hesitant she was to tell me how she went into labor. But I have to know, did she fall? Injure her belly in any way?" She questions.

"No! No, god no." Eddie said, waving his hands and shaking his head. "Nothing like that!"

She crossed her arms and tapped her finger on her bicep, a thick brow quirking upwards on her freckled brow.

"...Were the two of you having sex?"

Fuck.

Shit.

Fuck fuck fuck.

FUCK.

"Uh... I, er..." Eddie put a hand on his hip and scratched the back of his head, casting a look into the room where you were read-faced and sweaty while the nurses wiped your face with a towel while your hands gripped the handles in the birthing chair you were seated in.

He blew a puff of air out of his cheeks.

God, he wanted to crawl into a hole and die. The embarrassment of the situation was too much for him, having this teeny tiny Irish woman stare him down.

"I'm not judging you." She says flatly, not letting him escape her microscopic gaze. "But I have to tell you that there is a reason we tell pregnant patients to avoid penetrative sex, or excessive sex this late into their third trimester. It can make them go into labor."

She clicked her tongue and sighed. "You're lucky that she was so close to her due date that the baby isn't in any real danger. But it was still reckless. Regardless if she consented or not, this sort of thing can be dangerous, you hear me?"

Eddie wilted, feeling very much like a puppy who got caught wee'ing on the carpet, shame and mortification filling every inch of his body. Even Venom felt this way, cringing internally at the truths the doctor spat at them as she gave her lecture.

Her rant was cut short when you made a sharp yelp, jerking and clutching at your belly and one of the nurses came rushing to the doorway.

"Doctor O'Halloran, she's ready. We can already feel the baby's head. Looks like this baby wants out now!" She said, absolutely calm and no concern in her voice. If anything, she sounded excited!

Eddie meanwhile was frantic as O'Halloran clicked her tongue again, checking her watch with an almost bored glance. "Huh. Look't that. Well! Let's get this baby out of her! Adjust the chair so she's a bit more comfortable."

She grinned at Eddie, "Well? C'mon, Papa! You better be in here to see your baby girl!"

He felt his heart surge and flop in his chest when she said that. It was finally settling in.

Papa.

Their baby. Their baby girl.

Eddie had scrambled to behind the chair, leaning forward to wrap his arms around you.

He was glad he had Venom to strengthen his body, because god, could he swear you had suddenly gained incredible super strength as you began to push, crying and screaming as your lungs were squeezed of air, the pain so blinding you had actually fainted for a few seconds, all while not losing your inhumanly tight grip on his hand.

You had shouted more obscenities than Eddie and Venom had ever heard you swear, in between crying and apologizing for saying them and fainting like a messed up cycle.

Doctor O'Halloran assured Eddie this was normal rather calmly as you came to yet again, just to cry and scream again as your body struggled to push the baby free of your birth canal.

The smell of blood immediately had Venom wanting to surge forth, despite knowing there was nothing he could do for you currently except support you from inside of Eddie as you endured the most painful struggle of your life and he bore witness to something he'd never seen with his own eyes.

The bringing of a life into the world.

It hurt the both of them, to see you hurting so badly as you strained to bring Willow out for the world to see. Thankfully, as Venom had hoped earlier in the night, your birth was going quickly.

Not painlessly, of course, oh no. Definitely not painless.

"The moment we get home, I'm bonding with her. I know I can do it." Venom whined within Eddie as you sobbed in pain. "I want to fix her. I don't want her to hurt anymore after this."

Eddie silently agreed, hoping you would consent to melding with the symbiote to heal the damages your body was going through to birth your baby.

They just wished that you didn't have--

All at once, your body went slack and your eyes shut, but before the boys could panic any further, a tiny, ear-piercing wail filled the room.

"A girl! A nice set of lungs on her!" O'Halloran laughed as she scooped up and handed the newborn off to the nurse. She knew that Eddie (and Venom of course) were too preoccupied between staring in awe at the squirming purple body the nurse held to focus on cutting the cord.

All they could think about was her.

She was here. In front of them. Finally.

Those tiny feet that kicked out at them all this time, the little head they could feel shift around in your belly...

The nurses adjusted the chair enough to allow you to lean back, and Eddie covered your face in kisses, waking you up again with a mad grin.

And, heaven fucking bless you; amazing, gorgeous, powerful you, you smiled back. A tired, watery smile as you cried in victory.

Giving birth and being birthed was the closest thing that someone could come to dying and still come out of it. Many were not so lucky, but they were glad you were among the majority that emerged from this bloody struggle with a smile on your face and mirth in your bloodshot eyes.

The nurses wiped your baby down a bit before pulling your gown down to place her squirming, hiccuping body onto your bare chest.

Your hands weakly went to cradle her warm body, kissing the top of her head where a patch of fuzzy hair was.

"Hey, sweetheart." You sniffled, whispering against the wet fuzz.

You could barely get words out as emotions surged out of you all at once, overwhelming your body and mind as you cradled your precious child.

Almost immediately as your voice washed over her, it was as if the angry baby instantly calmed. It was like your soft, happy sobs were a soothing balm to her squirming body.

Neither could tell who moved it first, but Eddie's hand went to cover yours, Willow looking positively teeny beneath his large hand, watching in awe as her tiny, fat little fingers clawed and groped at your chest.

The sounds of loud booms from outside filled your ears, making her jump and wail once more as you coo'd and murmured to your baby.

"Hey, Eddie?" You sniffled, looking up at him.

"Y... Yeah?" Eddie asked, his throat tight as tears began to build at the corners of his eyes.

You tipped your head and kissed his jaw, weak and tired.

"Happy new year."

You were only faintly aware of the nurses cheering; both the healthy baby you birthed and in celebration of the new year ahead of you.

🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫🍫

They kept you at the hospital for another two days after you gave birth. After passing the placenta and remaining viscera of the birth, your body felt like literal tons of strain had been lifted from you.

And of course you, at the same time, felt like you had been tackled unprotected by a professional linebacker.

So, of course as soon as Venom offered to ease your comfort and repair the damage you agreed. It would certainly save on the recovery time. Sure, it would be hard to explain during your next checkup, but you'd cross that bridge when you got to it.

Ms Chen had gone to the hospital, as she was practically the closest thing either of you had to a mother and she wanted to see the baby. She carried an armload of supplies with her, too. Including some kinda balm that frankly stunk of something akin to menthol, but whatever it did, it certainly eased the pain on your poor nethers.

And of course, she gave a shit-eating grin when you named her honorary grandma.

Even Eddie's ex, Anne, came with her fiancee to congratulate him and coo over the adorable little bundle he so proudly cradled in his strong arms.

He certainly had nurses swooning, but you knew their eyes were only for you. Especially after he cried some more when you wanted his name on her birth certificate.

Right now, you watched as Willow suckled on her cute pink pacifier that Anne had slipped down to the gift shop to buy while they were at the hospital.

She was dressed in a soft two-piece to ensure the remnants of the umbilical cord weren't too aggravated, her cute little face pinched as she grunted in her sleep, exhausted from feeding and content as you carefully swaddled her.

Eddie came up behind you as Venom's head emerged from his body, all three of you looking down as your newborn dreamt whatever dreams babies had. Probably about her next feeding time.

"She's so fucking cute." Eddie sighed dreamily.

"I know! And she's so chunky." You giggle. "I had a real meatball of a baby. No wonder I was so big."

"Nah, you're beautiful." Eddie chuckled, kissing the skin of your shoulder that had been exposed by your oversized T-shirt. One of his, for sure, but he didn't mind.

Venom purred in a near-silent content, before turning to look at Eddie with a shark-like grin, sending a thought telepathically for only him to hear.

The thought made Eddie choke and start to laugh as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

"What? What's so funny, you ginormous dorks?" You snicker.

"Ah. Eh..." Eddie said, grinning widely. "...Vee says he calls dibs on the next one."

"Next one..?" You say, your brows furrowing.

"Yeah... the next one. He wants to be the one to knock you up next time."

"Oh, my god!" You gasped, spinning around to slap at Eddie's shoulder while he and Venom laughed. "You two are horrible! Have mercy on my poor body!"

Venom leaned in, nuzzling the pulse in your neck.

"We didn't hear a no..."

[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 62 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley could tell how important it was to you, so he spent the morning after the wedding night helping you fill out adoption paperwork. Christmas was fast approaching, as was your next appointment, and he had never seen Noah so happy before. He'd never been this happy before either.

Warnings: pregnancy topics, swearing, smut, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

Check out my masterlist for more! The Younger Kind masterlist.

You spent the day after your wedding snuggled up on the couch with Bradley and Skittles, reading over the adoption paperwork one last time before signing everything. "You're officially Noah's stepmom now," Bradley whispered as you watched the swirl of ink from the pen turn into your signature. You still wanted to change your last name, but this was the most important thing to you. This was what you wanted the most right now.

"I just want to be his mom."

He kissed your ear, the deep rumble of his laughter making you smile. "You've been that for a while, Princess."

"Yeah, but for real though," you said, turning to look back at him as you sat perched on his lap. "Once this gets approved, which could still take weeks even though they will probably waive all of the inspection protocols, I'll change my last name. Then we can pay to have an updated adoption certificate where we all have the same last name."

He nodded and gently turned you to face him. "We'll drop your adoption paperwork off tomorrow with the county clerk. Tracy said it's all in order. And then we get to find out about this little one."

You kissed him while he caressed your belly. "And then it will be Christmas."

"Like my Christmas in July birthday party," he murmured against your lips. His mustache was rough and perfect, and soon he was untying the drawstring of your lounge pants. "You feel like giving me a few minutes of your time, Mrs. Bradshaw? Before our son gets home from Penny's?"

He helped you out of your pants and your underwear, and you whispered, "I guess this is our honeymoon," with a little laugh.

"Nah," he grunted as he yanked his sweatpants down until his thick cock was free and bobbing against his thigh. He met your eyes as you took him in both of your hands. "I already told you, we can go anywhere you want next year. Just me and you."

When you lined him up with your opening, you took him inch by inch listening to his deep groan as he slowly filled you up. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed his cheek as you felt yourself fluttering softly around him. "Is this okay?" you whispered without moving your hips, even though you could tell by his eyes that he loved it. "If we just do this for a few minutes?"

"Keep me warm, Princess."

You kissed your way from his lips to his mustache and along his jaw. He smelled and tasted so familiar, you never wanted to stop touching him. You never wanted his hands to stop their gentle exploration of your hips and belly. Your fingers found their way to his hair as you said, "We should get Noah a Christmas tree. We could put it in the corner next to the front window."

"Absolutely, Baby," he whimpered as you clenched softly while keeping yourself still. "We can pick out some presents for him, too."

You weren't sure how you already felt like you were going to come when you weren't even moving, but the desperation in his voice and the brush of his rough hairs against our clit were sending you there. "Let's get him a bike with training wheels," you moaned while he pulled your shirt up and over your head. "Watching you teach him how to ride it would be so hot, Daddy."

And what that, he scooped you up so gently and held you to his chest with his cock still buried deep. He eased you down onto the floor while you clung to him, and he set you down next to the snag in the area rug. His big body was pressed to yours, but you knew he'd never hurt you. The pressure was delicious, but it was never too much against your belly.

Bradley kissed your breasts, thrusting with deep, long strokes and holding your hands above your head. "Call me Daddy again."

"Daddy," you gasped as he pulled your nipple between his teeth before sucking on it. "You're my Daddy."

"Mmm, that's right," he rasped, kissing his way up to your lips. "And what does Daddy do for you?" You were panting, your arms pinned in place as he kept his thrusts even and steady. "Tell me."

"Anything I want!" you cried out, your gaze on the snagged rug as he pressed his mouth to your ear.

"Anything you want. Do you want to come?"

Your voice was lighter than air as you said, "Yes." Because you were already there. "Yes." 

You came on his cock while he braced his hands on either side of your head, his face turning red as he fucked you a little faster. When you reached up to run your fingers along his cheek, still gripping him as you orgasmed, he kissed your wrist. "I love you, Mrs. Bradshaw."

You and he were still finishing when you heard a car door slam outside, and he was still inside your pussy when there was a knock on the front door. You started giggling as he whispered, "Perfect timing," before picking you up again. He set you down on your feet, scooped up your clothing and swatted at your rear end while his cum dripped down your thighs. "Go get dressed, and I'll let them in."

You pranced off toward the bedroom, calling out in a singsong voice, "Don't forget your cock is still hanging out."

"Thank you," he replied as you giggled more and made a pitstop in the bathroom. You could already hear Noah asking for you. You could hear him telling Bradley he made you macaroni art. You couldn't wait to adopt him.

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

"You don't need me here. You know that, right?" Tracy asked as she cracked open a Red Bull and looked at the adoption paperwork. 

You gave Bradley a miserable look as he collected you into his arms. You were nervous, afraid somebody would find something wrong with the forms you and he filled out together. So he called Tracy first thing on Monday morning and asked her to come to the clerk's office and look over everything. He offered to pay her double her hourly rate.

"I panicked," you whispered, barely loud enough for Bradley and Tracy to hear you. "I want this to go off without a hitch."

Tracy sighed and smiled softly. "Here, hold this," she said, thrusting her drink into Bradley's hand as she flipped through the pages. "You've got proof of marriage. Proof of citizenship. Proof of Noah's birth mother being incarcerated and losing custody of him." She looked up and added, "You're welcome for that one."

Bradley laughed in the quiet hallway before pulling himself together while you tried to cover his mouth. "Bradley, shh!"

"It's all in order," Tracy eventually said, handing the papers back to you and snatching up her Red Bull. "It's perfect."

"Thank you, Tracy," you whispered. Bradley watched you hug her while she tried not to spill the drink on her suit or on you, and his heart swelled with love. This was so important to you. Noah and he were both so important to you. He'd never been a priority like this before, not since his mom died. And now Noah was thriving with you in their lives.

"I brought my checkbook," he said, reaching to pull it out of the back pocket of his uniform pants. "Double for the hour?"

Tracy shook her head as you finally released her. "Consider it another wedding gift. And happy holidays."

You had tears in your eyes as she walked away. "We need to send her a case of Red Bull. Two cases. Three! Order them when you order Noah's bike."

"Okay," he laughed. "I will. Now let's hand this in so we can make it official as soon as possible."

You yanked open the door to the clerk's office and waited in the short line with Bradley right behind you. When you got to the front, you stated your name and what you were there for. "I want to adopt my stepson." The words were so important to you and to him, and your voice shook with emotion while the clerk collected the paperwork and your fingerprints. And that was it. Three minutes later, and you were in the parking lot with your arms wrapped around Bradley's neck.

"Are you okay, Baby?" he asked while you cried.

"Yeah," you said as your voice broke. "But I just want to go home and color my Princess book with Noah. I don't know if I can wait several weeks to hear back about this. I'll never make it."

He hooked his fingers under your chin and whispered, "Time will fly by. Tomorrow is a big day."

Your bright smile left him breathless. "We get to find out about the baby."

He nodded and guided you so your back was pressed to the Bronco. "I can't wait to find out if I'm painting the nursery blue or purple."

"Daddy," you laughed, bouncing in place a little bit. "Noah is going to be the best big brother either way."

"He can pass down your ants on logs recipe to number two," he whispered, and you laughed harder. 

"He can teach the baby that only one of us can be trusted in the kitchen."

"I resent that," Bradley said with a smile as he leaned in close and kissed you as you giggled. "I need to get to work. You'll pick Noah up later?"

"Yes."

"And you'll start dinner?"

"Well I'm certainly not going to let you do it."

Bradley glared at you playfully. "I was going to suggest we take Noah to pick out a little spruce tree for the living room after we eat, but perhaps not."

"Perhaps yes!" you insisted. "It's happening!"

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

You barely slept on Monday night, too excited by the smell of the fresh tree in the living room and the excitement bubbling up inside you whenever you thought about your appointment. You curled up in Bradley's arms, enjoying the warmth he always gave you, and you let him sleep while you thought about raising two kids in this perfect house.

As soon as your alarm chimed, you were shaking your husband awake and straddling his hips. "Daddy. It's baby day!"

He squeezed his eyes shut tighter and grimaced in response. "What time is it?"

"Time to go see the baby," you whispered loudly, and now Skittles was up and pawing at the bed. "Come on."

"You know," he groaned, "for someone who doesn't care if we're having a boy or a girl, you're really excited right now."

"I just want to know," you whined, leaning down to kiss him along his stubble. "And then we can decorate the tree and order presents online later."

Bradley sat up with you all over him. "I don't even have any decorations for the tree, Baby."

You weren't deterred in the least. "Noah and I are going to make them. And I guess you can help, too."

"Your generosity amazes me," he whispered before kissing you so well, you wanted to push him back down onto the bed, but you pulled away instead.

"Stop trying to distract me. Let's get Noah ready so we can go."

When the three of you eventually dropped him off at preschool, you greeted Casey with a bright smile. She only focused on Noah and Bradley, but you didn't even care about her shitty attitude anymore. "Have a nice day, Casey!" You managed to get a scowl in return.

Bradley chuckled as you yanked him back to the Bronco. "Why did you have to instigate with her?"

"I was being nice!" you insisted as he started driving to your appointment. "It's not entirely her fault that you're hot and Noah is sweet. The Bradshaw boys are tempting."

He shook his head and said, "The Bradshaw boys are a mess. Or we were. Not anymore, I suppose." Your husband reached for your hand while he drove. You played with his fingers, absolutely buzzing with excitement. You had to keep reminding yourself that he'd already been through all of these things before when Meredith was pregnant with Noah, but he surprised you when he parked at the medical complex.

"Let's go, Daddy," you said, shoving his hand back at him so you could climb out, but he held on tight. When you looked back at him, his face looked serious. "What's wrong?"

All he said was, "Thank you." When you shrugged and scooted closer to him with a puzzled look on your face, he added, "Thank you for never shutting me out."

You didn't ask him to elaborate. You knew he'd been underappreciated in the past, and you'd grown enough to realize that you had been as well. Part of the appeal of being with an older man was knowing you were valued, and that was never going to change. But he surprised you again when you checked in for your appointment with his arm wrapped around your lower back, because he leaned in and whispered, "I wasn't there for Noah's anatomy scan. This is... I guess... I didn't realize how much shit I missed out on with him until this time around."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

As a nurse led you up to the exam room, he said, "I'm telling you now, Princess. Every day with you is exciting, because you let me show you how much I love you. How much I love all three of you."

There were still some tears in your eyes as Bradley stood next to you, holding your hand while the technician performed the scan. You were mesmerized by the images of tiny hands and feet on the monitor that was mounted to the wall. The soft shape of your baby moving around slightly was almost too much for your heart to handle, but then you were asked the question, "Do you want to know the sex?"

You looked up at Bradley, and you kept your eyes focused on him. "Go ahead, Daddy," you coaxed as he brushed his thumb along your knuckles. 

"Yeah," he rasped, voice deep with excitement. "We want to know."

His brown eyes lit up as you heard the words, "It's a girl." Then your husband's lips came crashing to yours while you were still processing everything. A little girl? First you got to be around to raise Noah, and you got to have a little girl, too?

"Bradley," you gasped when he released your lips. "A girl."

He was nodding, impossibly handsome in his uniform as his smile grew wider. "A purple nursery is it. She's gonna love the color just like her Mommy." You pulled him in for another kiss and another one, and you weren't sure why you thought you couldn't do this. You could handle anything with this man.

"I can't wait to tell Noah," you told him as tears blurred your vision.

Bradley kissed your forehead. "Can we tell him tonight? After I get home from work?"

"That would make me so happy."

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

You were bubbling with excitement when Bradley got home that evening, and it was clearly rubbing off on Noah. The house smelled like dinner and fresh baked cookies, and there was already a strand of colorful lights on the Christmas tree. There was even some music playing. The area rug was littered with colorful bits of construction paper and two pairs of scissors, and in an instant, Bradley had you and his son in his arms while Skittles barked for attention.

"Can we tell him?" you asked softly, pushing Noah's hair back from his forehead. "I want to tell him."

Your eyes were bright, and you looked so young with your bump pressed to Bradley's hip. "You don't want to wait until after dinner?" he teased, already knowing he'd agree to anything you said. A little pout found your lips, and he kissed it away.

"I want us to tell him now," you said, chasing him for another kiss. "Please?"

Bradley scooped Noah up into his arms, and he pointed at the tree. "Mommy let me pick the colorful lights, because we are making colorful decorations." Then Bradley noticed that there were already a few construction paper candy canes and gingerbreads tucked into the tree branches.

"Looks good, Bub," he said, kissing his son's cheek before sinking down to the floor amidst the mess with Noah on his lap. He looked up at you and patted his thigh as he said, "Mommy wants to tell you something special."

You sucked in a breath as your eyes went wider, and Bradley helped you down onto the floor at his side. "You want me to tell him?" you asked, one hand coming to rest on his thigh as you brushed your fingers along Noah's cheek. Bradley looked at his son who was always well loved and happy now; he had a dad who was trying his best and a mom who more than made up the deficit. 

"Yeah. You tell him, Princess."

"What?" Noah asked, his brown eyes reflecting the multicolored lights. "What, Mommy?"

You bit your lip and made an adorable noise before you said, "Sweet Noah, remember how we said this week was an exciting one because I'm going to adopt you? Well it's even more exciting, because we found out a few hours ago that the baby is a girl. You'll have a little sister soon!"

He stared at you for a beat before looking at Bradley, and then he asked, "Can we make her a crown, too?"

"Oh," you whispered, tears filling your eyes as you reached for him. "That's a great idea." Bradley carefully handed Noah to you and then watched you snuggle him in your arms. "What color do you think she would like?"

As Bradley stood up, Noah flipped through the stack of paper and said, "Probably red, so she knows we love her."

"That's perfect," you told him, but then you looked up at Bradley. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back. You two get started on her crown."

Bradley went right to his bedroom and plucked your worn out purple paper crown from the bedpost. It took him a minute of hunting, because they always seemed to end up all over the house, but eventually he found the other two crowns in Noah's room. When he returned to the living room, everything just made sense. There was a smaller red crown in Noah's hands, and you were carefully taping it together.

"Perfect," you crooned, kissing the top of his head as he held it up to show Bradley.

"I have an idea, Bub," he said, setting the green crown on his own head and the purple one on yours. After placing the yellow one on Noah's head, he scooped him up and reached for your hand. "Let's decorate the tree with it since your sister can't wear it yet."

With your cheek resting on his chest and your hand rubbing his abs, Bradley held Noah up high enough that he was able to set the crown on the top of the tree where a star would traditionally belong. But he liked this so much better. He'd take crowns and babysitters over stars any day.

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

You and Noah were so excited for Christmas, it was ridiculous. Even though it was nearly seventy degrees in San Diego, you made mugs of hot chocolate and blasted Christmas carols through the house on Christmas Eve. The tree was absolutely covered in ornaments, some store bought but most homemade. You kept playing YouTube videos of snow, which Noah had never seen in real life, and you convinced Bradley to take you both back to Big Bear Lake in January.

Nat and Javy stopped by with a pile of presents for Noah along with some baby girl clothing that had you melting as soon as you unwrapped it. Tomorrow morning, the three of you would be heading over to spend the day with Mav, Penny and Amelia, but tonight was just for the three of you. 

Bradley had already assembled Noah's bike and used an entire roll of wrapping paper to cover it, and while you took Noah to the kitchen to decorate the cookies you made, he carried it out to put it under the tree along with the collection of coloring books, colored pencils and crayons you bought for him. There were a few other gifts for him as well, but you and Bradley agreed not to exchange gifts with each other. He already spent every day of the year spoiling you, and you didn't need or want anything anyway. You already had it all.

"I need a hot chocolate refill," Bradley said, popping into the kitchen with his Noah's Dad mug in one hand and a smug smile on his face. "And then we can open presents."

"More presents?!" Noah asked, nearly dropping a cookie onto the floor as he scrambled down from his chair. 

"More presents," Bradley confirmed. "You ready?"

Noah left the two of you in the dust which gave you a few seconds to wrap your arms around your husband's neck and press your ever growing belly against him. "Thanks for letting me spoil Noah with your credit card," you whispered, letting your fingers trail down his chest until they were slipping into the waistband of his sweatpants. "Maybe later you'll let me spoil you?"

His smirk grew. "Oh, that's what I'm counting on, Baby."

"Mommy!" Noah shouted, and you pulled Bradley along with you by the drawstrings on his pants. "Look!"

When you walked into the living room, he was holding up a wrapped gift in each hand. Once you were settled on the couch with Skittles on your lap, Bradley joined Noah on the floor with his mug. "Go ahead and open them up, Bub."

You watched him tear into the paper while Bradley rooted around under the tree. Noah was holding up each coloring book and commenting on the themes as Bradley picked up a small, purple box and set it down next to your thigh. 

"What's this?"

He licked his lips and gave you a very innocent expression as he said, "Why don't you go ahead and open it and find out?"

It took you a few seconds to untie the little ribbon, and then you lifted the lid from the box and gasped as Noah moved on to unwrap his bike. "Daddy," you whispered, running your fingers along the shiny treat he bought for you, knowing full well that he'd enjoy it, too.

"You like it?" His voice was raspy and needy as you tipped the box a little bit to the side, and then you had to stifle a moan.

"I do," you told him, letting the heavy, stainless steel butt plug roll onto your palm. Mrs. Bradshaw was inscribed on the base.

Your heart was skipping around in your chest as you met his big, brown eyes. "You gonna spoil me, Princess?"

"As soon as Noah goes to bed."

After that, it didn't take long before Bradley was hauling him off to bed with the promise that he could try out his new bike first thing in the morning before leaving for Penny's house.

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

Your best gift came after Christmas. It was two days into the new year when you were on your way home from work and got a phone call from the county clerk's office. In your excitement, you had to pull over so you didn't wreck when you heard the words, "You can come in to see the judge and have your adoption of Noah Bradshaw finalized."

"Bradley!" you screamed when you finally got home. He and Noah were already working on undecorating the tree, and now he had a panicked look on his face.

"What happened?" he asked, meeting you at the door and reaching for your belly.

"We're fine," you insisted loudly, scrambling into his arms as you shook from excitement. "I just got a phone call, and Noah's mine! He's really going to be mine!"

"Yeah?" Bradley asked as a smile bloomed across his face. "We're going to see the judge?"

"On Thursday!" you shrieked.

"This week?"

"This week!"

When Noah tried to reach for you as tears slid down your cheeks, Bradley picked him up. "Why are you crying, Mommy?" he asked, worry creasing his brow.

You kissed him and whispered, "Because I love you so much."

And that's exactly how you stood on Thursday afternoon, with Bradley next to you and Noah in his arms while you signed so many papers in front of the judge. Each swipe of the pen brought you a little bit closer to where you wanted to be, and when you reached the final sheet, your fingers shook. There was a little blot of ink next to your name, and you smiled down at it before pushing the papers across the table and looking expectantly at the judge.

He signed his own name a few times, handed everything over to someone else and then declared you Noah's legal guardian and parent. You let yourself sob against Bradley while you held Noah's small hand in yours. This is where you belonged. This is where you felt safe. This was your family. 

"It's official," you whispered to Noah, your voice raw from emotion. "I'm your Mommy."

Bradley kissed the top of your head half a dozen times and said, "You've been Noah's Mommy for months, Baby. Collect that piece of paper so we can go home."

You would have framed it, because it meant that much to you. And there was a chance you still would. But not yet. You needed to have it with you when you took Noah to preschool on your way to work a few weeks later. You left with plenty of time to spare so you'd be able to savor every moment. The baby was squirming around like crazy as you walked into the lobby with Noah's hand tucked into yours, and that's when you saw Casey.

"Good morning," you said brightly, and she tried her best to ignore you as she set the clipboard down for you to sign. You scribbled your brand new name on the line, kissed Noah's cheek, and then you watched her lead him inside to his classroom where he started to hang up his bag.

When Casey returned to find you were still there with your left hand resting on your belly, her eyes fell to your rings. They were stunning, and you knew it. She was jealous that you married Bradley, and you knew it. 

"What do you need?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You smiled. "I need to fill out a second set of paperwork for Noah."

Casey rolled her eyes. "No. You don't. His dad's paperwork will still suffice. You're already listed as someone who is allowed to drop his son off and pick him up."

"Oh, but he's my son, too," you replied immediately, and you were met with stony silence. "I have the adoption paperwork here to prove it. And also, you'll need to update my last name in your records. It's Bradshaw now. I have the paperwork to prove that, too."

Without a single word, Casey pulled a new set of registration paperwork for you to fill out, and you took your time, standing there on the other side of the counter, neatly writing every last word. You hummed while you filled in your marital status and said, "It's funny how it turned out, huh? I started out as just the babysitter. What a wild world. But now you can call me Mrs. Bradshaw when you see me."

Her cheeks were bright red as you signed your name on the last sheet, gave her a bland look and added, "I'll be back to pick up my son later today." And then you walked outside into the cool January sunlight, and you really did feel like a Princess even without your crown on.

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

Bradley pulled his Bronco into his driveway, smiling at the sight of his son's bike parked crooked on the porch and the chalk art covering the walkway. His mind felt so much calmer than it had just a year ago, because he wasn't constantly rushing around, and he knew what he was going to find when he opened the door.

Armed with pizza, a salad, and a decaf coffee with Mrs. Bradshaw written on the side, he walked in and was greeted by Skittles running to him. Then he saw you and Noah sitting on the floor together, your back leaning against the couch. You had Noah cradled against your belly, his hands and ear pressed against your shirt.

"Daddy!" he called out. "She's kicking!"

"Yeah?" Bradley asked with a smile, setting everything on the TV stand before dropping down to the carpet. 

You reached for his hand as he crawled over, and he let you place it high on your belly. "Feel her?" you whispered, almost like you were afraid to break the magic that you'd somehow cast on all of them. There she was, moving around just like the previous night and last week. Bradley would never tire of this feeling.

He curled up with Noah, unwilling to move until his daughter wore herself out. Your fingers combed gently through his hair, and even Noah didn't seem in much of a rush to get to his dinner while his tiny sister was making him giggle. Every day was practically perfect now because of you, and it was just going to keep getting better. He looked up at your beautiful face and said, "You're the best thing that ever happened to us, Princess."

"I know, Daddy."

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

Omg, this family makes me so happy! Noah is thriving, and he's going to have a baby sister. Bradley is such a Daddy, and Princess is entering Mommy era for real. Up next is the EPILOGUE. I can't thank you enough, especially if you have been here reading since last MARCH! Big thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 63

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[luveline]

Omg please kbd uncle Eddie:’)

dad!steve x mom!reader, 1k

“Hi, Uncle Eddie.” 

Eddie rubs his hands together, holds them out in front of himself, and summons the prodigal child forward. “Bethany. Quick, give me a hug.” 

Bethie walks into his waiting arms, her giggle infectious as she says, “That’s not my name.” 

“Bethie,” Eddie says with a sigh. “You know my full name is Edward. Full names are nothing to be ashamed of.” 

“It’s Bethie.” 

She pushes the hair off of his shoulders. He smiles at her and her little hands. If someone told him ten years ago he’d be carrying Steve ‘King of Hawkins High’ Harrington’s babygirl around like a treasure he’d laugh in their face, but he loves Beth. She’s hands down his favourite Harrington, and he’s allowed to have favourites as an uncle, though the other clingers are cool too. Beth is Eddie’s favourite because she’s an underdog, and because she’s so clearly infatuated with him. They’re best friends. 

He gives her a pat between the shoulders and slips down into a seat in front of the TV. There’s no signs of the other babies nor their parents; Eddie always lets himself in when he’s coming around and he doesn’t expect wait service, but a hello would be nice. “Where’s mom and dad?” he asks, setting Beth down into the seat beside him. He zeroes in on a plate of pretzels and snags a few for snacking. “You’re downstairs by yourself?” 

“No! They’re in the kitchen.” 

“Really? What about Ave and Dove, then?” he asks through chewing. 

“Dove is napping and Ave, um, went somewhere.” 

He raises his brows. “Dad took her somewhere?” He imagines Beth would tell him Avery’s run away with similar nonchalance. 

“To Grandma’s. They’re going to watch a play.” 

“Oh,” Eddie springs up off of the couch. “Stay here, sweetheart, I’ll just go make sure they know I’m here.” 

Eddie is scared to open the door. Why is it closed? He supposed parents are deprived of one another but he doesn’t wanna see you kissing. Then again, if he does see you kissing, Steve will die of embarrassment. That’s worth it. 

“Hello!” he shouts, throwing open the door. 

He makes you both jump hard, Steve’s head thwacking a cabinet and your hand thrown to your chest. You almost fall on your ass where you’re kneeling by Steve’s leg. His pant leg is pushed up to the knee, and you have a tweezers in hand —Eddie frowns abruptly. 

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks. 

“Steve has a tick, you fiend. When did you get here?” 

Steve groans. “The door was locked,” he says, rubbing the back of his head. 

“Not well. Just stuck my credit card in there and wham. You guys should slide the chain in if you’re gonna leave poor Bethie all by her lonesome, don’t you think?” 

“Eddie, the door was locked,” Steve says. “You’re the only weirdo in Hawkins willing to break in. Plus, I still have that baseball bat in the garage.” 

“Sure. Come on, sweetheart, get off the floor. Let Eddie have a stab at it.” 

You laugh and pull Steve’s pants down over his shin. “It’s fine, I already got it. He might get Lyme’s now because you scared the fuck out of me–”

“Language.” 

“–but I heated it up and I think I got it.” You look up with a smile. Steve pauses his pained head rubbing to beam at you lovingly. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine. Or he’ll turn into a zombie, and that would make him cooler. Win win. So, dinner?” Eddie asks. “Should I go get something?” 

“Nah, I made ravioli, you rude idiot. Where’s Beth?” 

“I told her to stay put in case you were making out.” 

Steve helps you up from your kneeling to dust you off. “Thanks for saving my life,” he sighs tiredly, kissing your cheek. 

Eddie rolls his eyes and turns away. Steve should love and appreciate you, you’re awesome, but he’s also a loser and Eddie’s entitled to thinking such disparaging thoughts about his friend from time to time. 

You and Steve made a kid as cool as Beth, so Steve can’t be too bad of a loser.

“Uncle Eddie?” 

“Yes, my lovely sweetpea angel?” Eddie asks. 

She stares at him, adorable in all her chubby-cheeked, sugary-eyed sweetness with her hands held up for another hug. Eddie leans down, says, “Daw, I can’t say no to you,” as she giggles into his hair. He strokes the top of her shoulder with his thumb. “So what’s happening? How did that painting go with mommy, did you put it in the contest?” 

Steve nudges you forward with a hand on your shoulder. “He’d make a good dad, right?” 

“For sure,” you say, “not as good as you, though.” 

“Oh, you’re flirting with me, that’s cool… Are you free Friday night?” 

“Probably gonna be pulling ticks off of some other guy's leg.” 

“Oh, that’s fine, I was busy anyways.” 

Beth giggles as Eddie tips her backward, a mixture of nerves and excitement that kids experience so much more than adults. 

“I always expected him to just end up with a kid. Like, one night stand style,” Steve says. 

“There’s nothing wrong with that. At least then he doesn’t get stuck marrying somebody he doesn’t love.” 

Steve glares at you as you laugh, dragging you into his arms to smush kisses into your cheek. “Don’t even joke about that.” 

“Sorry, honey. I hope Eddie gets as lucky as me someday.” 

Beth begs to be put down through giggles. “I don’t know,” Steve says, resting his cheek on your temple to watch her laugh, “I don’t think Eddie has luck, just sheer force of will.” 

“He’d totally get a baby in a basket on his doorstep.” 

Steve mulls it over. “God, he totally would.” 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Perfect Gentleman

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.8k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Spencer is the perfect gentleman for you, in every way that counts.

Square Filled: spiderman kiss for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

It’s hard to find a good man these days. All of your ex-boyfriends had something wrong with them in one way, shape, or form. Either they always thought of themselves, always put you second, or were total douchebags and dicks. You almost swore off men completely until you met Dr. Spencer Reid.

He is the perfect gentleman. He is nothing like what you’ve experienced before. He always puts you first, always thinks of you, and never has made you feel less than not even once. He made you feel safe and that’s all you ever wanted in a man.

The weather is nice enough to allow you to walk to your favorite coffee place rather than drive there. The street isn't too busy with cars but that doesn’t mean you’ll stop exercising caution when walking on the sidewalk. Spencer is walking on the left side while you’re on the inside of the curb, and you look at him with a smile.

The sun hits his face just right, giving his flawless skin a slight shimmer. God, how did you ever get so lucky to land a man like him?

You look behind you to see the street empty and you smirk to yourself. You let go of Spencer’s hand and make it look like you’re fixing something in your hair when you slow down enough to fall behind, and you switch sides with him so that you're walking on the outer side of the sidewalk, closest to the street.

“Ha, ha, very funny. Get back over here,” Spencer chuckles.

“What? I want to walk on the left side this time.”

“No, you’re going to walk on the right side and let me protect you. Come on, I don’t want to have to throw you over my shoulder.”

“Tempting,” you giggle.

“What if someone wants to kidnap you? They have easy access to do it.”

“What if they decide to kidnap you?”

“A beanstalk like me? Nah, only the pretty girls like you. Come on, get over here.”

You smile and comply with his request, getting back on the right side of the sidewalk. Spencer takes your hand in his and kisses your palm.

Even when he doesn’t try to be a gentleman, it comes out naturally. He is always looking for ways to make your life easier because he doesn’t want to see you overworking yourself. He loves you too much to see you put yourself through that.

Moving day is finally here. You and Spencer will be together without worrying about time or whether or not you have to go home for things. You two are moving into his apartment; nothing ever felt more right.

You got out your lease a month early and packed up all your shit, now all that’s left to do is take all the boxes out of the moving truck and put it inside his place.

He jogs down the stairs after bringing a box up and sees you struggling to pick up the box full of your books. You made it light enough for you to carry but not heavy enough to put it on a dolly. The only problem you’re having is picking it up off the ground.

“Nope, let me do this one.”

“Spencer, I am perfectly capable of doing this.”

“Darling, what if you trip and crack your head open on the stairs? No, I’m doing it.”

“Okay, what if you do that?”

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me,” He kisses you quickly and takes out his wallet. He takes out forty bucks and hands it over to you. “Call JJ and Penelope. I hear they have a new coffee shop in town.”

“No, I can’t leave you to do this by yourself.”

“I’ll be okay. I can call Derek if I need help. Go. Enjoy your afternoon.”

Again, how did you get so lucky to snag him?

Spencer always makes it his mission to make sure you’re comfortable no matter what you two go. It could be the briefing room or on the plane and he'd make sure you have a pillow for the flight or back support for your chair. It could also be him making sure your bath water is at the right temperature for a relaxing night in.

In order to catch the unsub red-handed, the team has to attend this elegant party that he is hosting. His MO is finding rich couples to lure upstairs where he’d drug both of them and strip them of all their valuables before killing them. Hotch theorizes that he’s here tonight about to do the same thing.

You and Spencer arrive at the party first, and you step out of the limo Hotch rented for you. If the unsub is going to think you’re rich, you need to arrive in a limo. However, you didn’t judge the weather properly. You thought it was going to be a lot warmer than it is. A shiver runs down your spine and Spencer notices goosebumps on your arm.

You’re wearing a royal purple strapless dress that goes down to your calves with a sequin lining on the outside. Spencer doesn’t think you can get even more beautiful than you are now.

“Here, take my jacket.”

He strips off his outer jacket before you have a chance to protest.

“No, Spencer, it’s okay. I’m fine,” you say even as he’s draping his jacket over your shoulders.

Damn, this jacket smells just like him and it’s warming your heart as much as it’s warming your skin.

“Take it. You’re cold.”

“Now you’ll be cold.”

“Don’t worry about me. I don’t want you catching a cold.”

It’s the way he said it that makes you want to cry out of pure happiness. He makes you so happy that sometimes, he feels like a dream.

One of Spencer’s favorite games is finding new ways to kiss you. He loves the traditional kiss but also loves Eskimo kisses, butterfly kisses, palm kisses, neck kisses, and your personal favorite, Spider-Man kisses. He never tells you when he’s going to do them because he loves seeing the blush on your cheeks whenever he pulls away from you.

“I know Hotch says he wants us to come up with a game plan on how to catch the unsub, but I think our resources are better spent finding his next victim. If we can pinpoint the kind of women he likes to target, we can be better prepared for when he strikes next.”

You and JJ are trying to come up with a way to stop this sunubs before he hurts any more people ad she is agreeing with your plan a lot more than Hotch’s. He’ll understand why you had to go this way once you catch the unsub.

“If this doesn’t work, I already have Morgan and Prentiss working on Hotch’s plan.”

“Thank you,” you breathe a sigh of relief. “Now, how should we go about this?”

Spencer walks into the bullpen with two cups of coffee when he sees the worry lines on your forehead. Hotch has been showing down on you recently so you’re just trying to do your best not to piss him off more than you already have. He sets both coffees on his desk and walks over to yours without letting you know he’s there.

When he gets to you, he gently grabs your hair and pulls your head back to kiss you Spider-Man style. The tension from your shoulders immediately dissipates and all that you can think of is Spencer. He knows you and JJ are working hard so he keeps the kiss short and sweet but nothing less than passionate.

When he pulls away, he sees the slight blush on your cheeks that makes him smile.

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you, too.”

Spencer always had your well-being in mind both physically and mentally. It doesn’t matter where you are or if you’re without him. He will make sure that you’re safe at all times because he knows the worst thing can happen in the blink of an eye.

You: I’m getting gas. Be home shortly.

You’re not even out of the car when you get a reply back.

Spencer: DON’T MOVE. I’LL BE RIGHT THERE.

At first, you’re confused as to why he’s coming down here when you’re almost home. Maybe he has something to give you and can’t wait? Did he forget something and need your car to go get it? Whatever the reason, you can’t sit at this gas station all day and wait for him to show up. There are people waiting to use the pump.

You leave your car and put in your card to pay for it when Spencer’s car practically comes speeding into the gas station. He parks off to the side, gets out, and jogs over to you.

“Did you speed all the way over here?”

“Get in the car. I’ll do this.”

He hates you already put your card in, but he’ll send you money for however much the gas is.

“What are you doing?”

“Pouring my girl’s gas for her. This thing is filthy and you can get sick. Or you can fall victim to a robbery. Or someone can kidnap you. Just sit back and let me do my job.”

He kisses you and takes the pump out of the slot.

“You drove ten miles from our warm apartment just to pump my gas for me?”

“Yes. Get in the car.”

You’d have melted into a puddle if it weren't so damn cold outside.

Spencer never once puts himself first because, to him, you’re his entire world. He takes care of what he loves and that would be solely you.

Derek had invited you two to a dinner party he and Savannah are hosting at their house along with JJ and Will and Kevin and Penelope. It’s a couples night which is why Emily wasn’t invited. Though, you did promise her a girls’ night tomorrow. She preferred to stay in anyway, so she’s not too upset over not being invited.

Spencer arrives at Derek’s house and turns off the car after parking it. You unbuckle your seatbelt and grip the door handle to get out when Spencer shouts at you.

“Wait!” You jump in surprise and watch as he gets out and rushes over to your side of the car. He fixes his tie in the reflection of the car’s window before opening your door for you. “M’lady.”

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you grin and grab his outstretched hand. He helps you out of the car and closes the door behind you. “Are you going to do this every time we go somewhere?”

“Why wouldn't I?” Years of broken boyfriends have wired your brain to think this behavior is weird. However, Spencer is starting to fix that. “Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning?”

“Every day,” you smile.

“Good. I don’t want you to forget it.”

How could you when you have a man like Spencer Reid?

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[itiswormtimebaby]

Fifth Date

Bucky and Bug’s fifth date takes an unexpected turn (alternatively: Bucky isn’t sure he’s good at dating but knows he’s good at sex so he tries to play to his strengths).

Pairing: Biker!Bucky x Bug (+ Brother’s best friend Bucky, plus sized reader) CW: Thigh riding, risk of getting caught, dirty talk, hints of praise kink, past toxic relationships, mild angst, Bucky and Bug bond over their love of food (he’s not a feeder but he does keep you fed)

Bucky absentmindedly digs his thumbnail into the worn wood of the picnic table, working at a knot in its surface as he tries his best to gauge whether or not he’s upset you. At face value you seem fine, excited even, as you’d managed to snag a lavender oat milk ice-cream; that’s what held your attention now, well, the dripping cone and the excess amount of dogs being led around the food-truck-lined garden. But despite your oohing and ahhing over the creamy treat and the furry friends he couldn’t help the niggle of worry in his stomach. Fucking flowers. He forgot the fucking flowers. Every other date he’d shown up right on time, if not a little early, with fresh flowers. Today his shift at the garage had run long and he’d hardly had time to scrub his hands clean and comb his hair, let alone get flowers, before rushing to pick you up, barely on time and empty-fucking-handed. Given the time between this date and the last surely the others were already shriveled up, he was supposed to be showing you how good a boyfriend he would be and he couldn’t even- 

“-ucky? Buck?” 

He was wrangled from his thoughts by the soft call of his name and a sudden jolt of pain as his thumb caught on a sliver of wood. There was now a furrow in your brow, lips down turned as you observed him; damnit, if the flowers hadn’t messed things up this inattentiveness surely would. “Are you alright?”

Idly reaching for your fingers not wrapped around the ice cream cone he nodded his head, “Course I am. How’s that?” Instead of answering you held the treat out for him but he shook his head, “Nah, Bug, I’d rather taste it on your lips.” And despite the small burn of embarrassment it caused, you leaned across the table, indulging him as he licked into your mouth, sticky and sweet. Bucky was relieved that you seemed happier after the kiss, he was good at that, if nothing else he could keep you physically sated. There was a time he was confident in his abilities to be good at the other stuff as well, at least he thought he was, but his last serious partner made it clear that while he was a great fuck he was a shitty boyfriend, a “sorry ass loser” to be exact, it’s what he feared you would eventually see. 

“Alright Buckaroo, you are way too in your head right now, let’s go!” Bucky went to protest before realizing you weren’t calling for an early end to the date, instead you were tugging him towards the food trucks you hadn’t yet explored. “We are dividing and conquering, I’ll grab the samosas, you’ve got the vegan corn dog truck, and we’ll rally back by the loaded waffle fries. Got it?” You didn’t bother waiting for a response as you took off, forcing him to chase after you to press cash into your palm, waving off any protests as he pinned you with a stern stare; “It’s a date, Bug, I pay. Got it?” He echoed your words back to you, but unlike you he was waiting for a response, the arch of his brow leaving no room for protest; “Got it.” 

+ + + + + + + + +  + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

You were pleased to see Bucky relax into the date, despite his earlier assurance that nothing was bothering him you knew better, as if you couldn’t read his moods after thirteen-some-odd-years, no, he wasn’t fooling you for a second. You were willing to wager it had something to do with work, judging by his hurried arrival and quick apologies when he picked you up, though there was always the smallest chance it had to do with club business. Despite your brother’s prominent role you tried to steer clear of that, though you would make an exception if talking about it would help Bucky. As it were he seemed considerably cheered up, happily sharing bites of the small feast you’d managed to amass, practically moaning at each new flavor that burst across his tongue (though he made sure to remind you that you were the best thing he ever tasted as he lapped powdered sugar off two of his fingers- conveniently the same two fingers that he had up your skirt on your last date). 

Beyond stuffed you wave away his offer for more, something warm bursting in your chest as he offhandedly remarks something about keeping his lady fed, choosing to ignore the latter part wherein he adds a no edibles disclaimer. Is that what you are, his lady? It certainly seems like it the more dates you go on, though no official titles have been given. In some way or another you’ve felt like his for a long time, it was almost scary to face the reality of what you two could be. 

Bucky could tell you were mulling something over, the tip of your tongue poking through your lips a dead give away, you’d had the same tell since childhood and he knew if he reached over and peeled apart your lips you’d be lightly biting down on the pink organ. He felt the same sharp doubt as earlier re-emerge at how quiet you’d gone, but no, you’d been having a good time he was sure of it, and he could recover from his earlier faux paus. Instead he distracted himself with the image of you, the denim of your shorts riding up between the thick meat of your thighs, nearly disappearing at the apex, the button on them now pressing tighter against the ample swell of your stomach than it had earlier, a happy sign that you’d eaten well, the soft material of your crop top inching dangerously up-up-up at each little shift you made. A man of his whims Bucky reached out, softly tracing the tip of his index finger up a spidering stretch mark, from the waistband of your shorts to wear it disappeared just beyond the hem of your top, he allowed his finger to venture just underneath it, searching, almost positive you didn’t have a bra on, desperate to find out. Desperate to trace that same mark with his tongue. Fuck you were beautiful. The soft hitch of your breath had him abruptly on his feet, gathering up trash with one hand while the other reached for you; “Let’s go for a walk, Bug.” 

+ + + + + + + + +  + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

He led you to a secluded area, a seemingly forgotten bench at the end of an overgrown path, surrounded by trees and wild bushes.There was extra security in knowing that the live music had just kicked up at the other end of the park, drawing much of the crowd towards the small stage but still your heart fluttered nervously, somehow knowing Bucky’s intentions were less than pure; he wasn’t just looking for a quiet place to talk. 

Bucky sat first, guiding you to sit astride one of his thighs, back facing him. Whatever small ping of worry surfaced in your brain about being too heavy died before it could fully form, senses overrun by the rough feeling of his black denim jeans on the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, the cool kiss of his prosthetic hand finding purchase on the naked flesh of your waist. This is the part I’m good at, he thought, the part where I impress her, where I shine. He didn’t say anything, just began rocking his leg back and forth until your back arched, signaling he had found your sweet spot, focusing his attention on staying there. You were desperate not to make noise, biting down on your lip as Bucky’s thigh pressed the thick seam of your shorts up into you, the pressure on your clit causing pleasure to spark hot in your groin. Wrapping the hand not anchored to your waist around your throat he forced you to lean your head back against his shoulder, using the open access to run his tongue across the hyper sensitive skin, suckling, marking, claiming. It went on and on, the steady rise and fall of Bucky’s thigh as he continued his assault on your clit and throat, his own arousal at the situation apparent by the thick swell of his cock pressed into your back. 

Despite your best efforts to keep quiet Bucky could tell you were getting close, stopping just when you appeared to be on the precipice of pleasure; “Fuck, Bug, you want it?” 

Ignoring the question, or perhaps too focused on your pleasure to truly hear it, you pick up where Bucky left off, slowly gliding your denim covered cunt across his thigh. Rocking side to side to catch the seam just right. Close, so close, pleasure taught in your groin, ready to explode outward, ready to- 

Bucky let’s out a long drawn out fuck, worried for a second he’s going to bust in his jeans as your ass backs up into him, practically slamming into his cock as your previously controlled rocking motion loses rhythm and gives way to frantic humping. Bucky slips two of his fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue in an effort to quiet you; “That’s it, Baby, use my thigh, fuck yourself on my thigh, good gi-” His praise is lost in the wake of your pleasure, thighs clamping impossibly tight against his own as frantic motion mellows to soft subconscious rocking. You suckle at the salty skin of his fingers, the intensity of your orgasm leaving you soft and pliable in his lap, sleepy even.

Bucky manages not to lose it in his pants, but just barely, nuzzling at the crown of your head he feels pride- yeah, he’s good at this, he can keep you around with this.

AN: For more Bucky and Bug visit THE WORM HOLE

[laundrybiscuits]

Eddie’s doing some dumb trick with a couple of wooden spoons, clever hands making them move through the air in improbable ways, and Steve’s about to bite his whisk in half. 

He’d thought for sure that Eddie would be going home the first week; Edward Munson, 29, bartender/musician from Brighton with mismatched tattoos and wild hair, seemed like exactly the kind of pretentious asshole who would flame out early with some ill-advised hipster experimentation. If Steve (28, social worker from Indiana, USA) had been a complete asshole, he’d have said that Eddie didn’t have the fundamentals. That he was all sizzle, no steak. 

It’s a good thing Steve’s not a complete asshole, because Eddie’s been blowing the technicals out of the water so consistently it’s actually pretty fucking embarrassing. His signatures and showstoppers are making a very respectable showing too, except for the time he tried to incorporate some fresh pandan extract and fucked up the liquid ratio, leaving him with a dripping mess that Mary’d declined to even try. 

Afterwards, Steve had seen him leaning against a tree and struggling to light a cigarette. Steve went over for no particular reason, flicking on his lighter and holding it out like a peace offering. Eddie looked at him warily, but bent over the offered flame. 

“Can’t believe I made it through this one,” Eddie said after a moment, white smoke curling out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I feel like that every week.” Steve leaned against the tree next to Eddie. It was a big tree, the kind that’s probably been growing in this field since before England was even England. 

“Nah, but—c’mon, you know what I mean.”

“You had some bad luck with your showstopper. Happens to the best of us, man. Your signature hand pies looked sick as hell.” Steve’s own hand pies had turned out pretty well, so he was feeling generous. It had only been the third week; plenty of time for Steve to snag Star Baker, though even by that point, Steve had been getting the creeping feeling that he was being a little too American about the whole thing. Everyone else seemed to think competitiveness was some kind of deadly sin. It was—actually kind of nice, to get the same kind of nerves he’d always gotten before high school basketball games, but know that he wasn’t really fighting against anyone except himself in the tent.

Anyway, the very next week, Eddie had done some kind of kickass gothic castle with a shiny chocolate dragon and gotten Star Baker for the second time. Steve had clapped him on the back, appropriately manly. Eddie had pulled Steve into a real hug, arms tight around Steve’s shoulders and his whole lean body pressed up close and warm. It had only lasted a moment, and then Eddie had bounded over to Mel and Sue, both of whom he’s been thoroughly charming since the get-go. 

Steve thinks that when this season—or, uh, series—airs, no matter where Eddie places, the entire country is going to be just as charmed. Eddie’s going to get whatever kind of cookbook deal or streaming show he wants. Sponsors will take one look at that handsome face and charismatic grin, and a whole world of possibilities is going to open up for Eddie. 

Steve’s not in it for any of that, of course. He’s here kind of by accident, because Robin pushed him to apply, and it’s a goddamn miracle he’s been holding his own. Hell, it’s a miracle he’s in this country at all. When Robin had started looking at the Cambridge MPhil program in linguistics, she’d said wouldn’t it be great if and he’d snorted, yeah right, like I could ever get whatever job I’d need to move to another freaking country, but then—well. Things had happened the way they’d happened, and now Robin’s almost finished with her degree and Steve is taking time off from the London charity he works at in order to be on Bake Off. 

He’s told all this to the cameras, plus the stuff about how baking started as a way for him to connect with the kids he used to babysit in Indiana, blah blah blah. He thinks it’s probably too boring for them to air, but he gets that they have to try to get a story anyway. 

Eddie Munson, on the other hand, is probably going to be featured in all the series promos. Steve is rabidly curious about what Eddie’s story is, but he hasn’t worked up the nerve to just ask. It should be the easiest thing in the world. They’ve got kind of a camaraderie going, the two of them; a bit of a bromance, as Mel’s put it more than once. 

It’s true they get along pretty well, and the cameras have been picking up on it: on the way Eddie’ll wander over to Steve’s bench like a stray cat whenever they get some downtime, how they wind up horsing around sometimes, working off leftover adrenaline from the frantic rush of caramelization or whatever. There’s the time Eddie had hopped up on a stool to deliver some kind of speech from Macbeth, of all things, and overbalanced right onto Steve, who had barely managed to keep them both from careening into a stand mixer. Sue had patted Eddie on the shoulder and said, “Well, boys, that’ll be going in the episode for sure.”

They both get along with the other contestants just fine, of course, but they’re two guys of about the same age with no wife and kids waiting at home. It’s only natural that they’re gravitating together, becoming something like friends, Steve figures. It’s pretty great that he’s getting at least one real friend out of this whole thing.

It would be even greater if Steve could stop thinking about Eddie’s hands in decidedly non-friendly ways. With all the paperwork he’s signed, he can’t even complain to Robin about how Eddie looks with his sleeves pushed up to show off the tattoos on his forearms, kneading dough and grunting a little under his breath with effort. Steve had almost forgotten to pre-heat his oven that day. 

Two benches away, Eddie fumbles the spoons he’s been juggling with a clatter, and he bursts out laughing, glancing over at Steve like Steve’s in on the joke. Steve grins back, heart twanging painfully in his chest, and thinks: well, fuck. Guess this is happening.

[carolperkinsexgirlfriend]

Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 49

Part 1 Part 48

Eddie swings his guitar off, invigorated. There’s nothing like a good band practice to set his blood blazing. He bounces on his toes in Gareth’s cold garage, letting his friend’s excited chatter wash over him as he places his sweetheart delicately back in her case. Just like old times. Unlike old times, there’s an ache in his ribs where Steve’s carved out a home for himself.

It’s weird to be so far away from Steve. Even when they’re doing their own thing, it’s usually in the same room. Or at least the same building. Thursday nights, Steve studies in the library while Eddie leads Hellfire a few hallways away. Eddie’d had Steve write down his schedule so he would always know where to find him.

Eddie just wants to be supportive. Nancy had called it “dangerously co-dependent,” and Jeff had called it, “the honeymoon phase.” But, they don’t get it. Neither of them had held Steve’s lifeless hand in their hands. Neither of them had seen his smile after Hopper had breathed life back into him.

As if sensing the subject of his thoughts, Gareth asks, “where is Steve, anyway?” When Eddie looks up, he looks sly and teasing. Eddie braces for impact. “You two have a lover’s quarrel?”

Eddie groans, dropping dramatically to the cold cement floor. His head makes a hollow thunk when it connects, but Eddie doesn’t get up. If there’s one thing Eddie is, it’s commited to the bit.

“My fair maiden is off wooing another,” Eddie says, putting his hand to his forehead in a dramatic swoon. “Which one of you big, strong boys will support me through this terrible heartbreak?” He wiggles his eyebrows, really driving the innuendo home with a shimmy of his hips.

Doug holds up his hand. He’s either volunteering to have gay sex like a true queer ally, or he wasn’t listening and is done with Eddie’s shit. Eitehr way, he feels his heart warm. In Bumfuck, Indiana, he’d somehow managed to snag a couple friends who hadn’t even hatecrimed him after he’d tried to kiss poor Jeff while high out of his mind. The aftermath hadn’t even gone past good-natured teasing for a minor crush on a best friend that Eddie pretended not to have. Eddie could just cry about it.

Jeff comes over to kick Eddie lightly in the ribs, scoffing. “So, he’s hanging out with Nancy.”

Eddie latches onto Jeff’s ankle, trying to pull him down. But he plants his feet, bends his knees and weathers the storm. Eddie hugs his calf, smooshing his face into the top of Jeff’s dirty sneaker, looking up at him with wide eyes and put-upon sadness.

“He’s with Nancy,” he confirms, jutting his bottom lip out in a pout.

Gareth collapses on the couch, still tossing his drumsticks around. Eddie watches them spin hypnotically. “You’re joking, but he’s totally going to get back with his ex.”

“Nah,” Doug says, sitting down next to Gareth and tossing him a bag of salt and vinegar chips that Gareth immediately digs into noisily. “Steve’s way too hung up on Eddie.”

Gareth sputters, choking on his mouthful of chips. Eddie can feel the heat of his blush blooming across his cheekbones. He drops Jeff’s ankle to press his heated cheek against the cool cement, hoping no one notices.

“Straight-boy Steve Harrington?” Gareth asks, chips spewing grossly out of his mouth and onto the couch. “No way in hell is he interested in that.” At the last word, he points rudely Eddie’s way, not looking away from Doug.

“Hey!” Eddie cries. No one listens to him.

Jeff walks over to them, wiping Gareth’s masticated chips off the couch and then wiping his hand off on Gareth’s jeans before sitting down. His friends are so fucking weird. “I don’t know man. He does seem sort of obsessed with Eddie.” Jeff says.

“They just like bonded during like, whatever!” Gareth waves his hand, seemingly trying to encapsulate the entirity of whatever capital T Thing had happened to make Eddie and Steve inseperable and leave Steve looking like he got mauled by a bear that somehow gave him scurvy.

“And that explains how Steve’s always touching Eddie and like looking at his lips, how?” Jeff demands.

“He is not!” Eddie says, heart lurching somewhere within him.

Gareth’s mouth flaps open, clearly trying to think of something to say but coming up empty. “Well, whatever!” he says. “That doesn’t mean he’s not going to get back together with Nancy the Priss Wheeler!”

Eddie speaks without thinking, his unfurling anger at Nancy’s everything surpassing his brain to mouth filter entirely. “He’s not getting back together with her,” he grumbles. “He forgot they were even dating.”

Everyone whips their eyes toward Eddie’s prone form, finally acknowledging his existance. They all look varying levels of shocked, except Gareth who is smiling maniacally. It’d taken the kid about thirty seconds to pick up Eddie’s venhement dislike of Wheeler and hold a grudge on his behalf, reson be damned.

“Are you serious?” Doug asks. When Eddie nods, he continues. “What a freak.”

“That’s what I’ve been saying!” Jeff says, slumping into the couch in defeat. “Boy came back from his little impromptou vacation fucking weird.”

Eddie’s not so sure that’s true. Steve came back from the Upside-Down weird and traumatized, sure. But the more layers of skin Eddie peels back, the more he’s convinced that Steve was a freak masquerading as a jock all along.

“A diamond in the rough,” Eddie says, everyone else nodding along like that made any fucking sense at all. A bunch of sheep following the flock. Just as it should be.

Part 50

Taglist: @deany-baby @estrellami-1 @altocumulustranslucidus @evillittleguy @carlprocastinator1000 @1-8oo-wtfbro @hallucinatedjosten @goodolefashionedloverboi @newtstabber @lunabyrd @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @manda-panda-monium @disrespectedgoatman @finntheehumaneater @ive-been-bamboozled @harringrieve @grimmfitzz @is-emily-real @dontstealmycake @angeldreamsoffanfic @a-couchpotato @5ammi90 @mac-attack19 @genderless-spoon @kas-eddie-munson @louismeds @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @pansexuality-activated @ellietheasexylibrarian @nebulainajar @mightbeasleep @neonfruitbowl @beth--b @silenzioperso @best-selling-show

[grandlinedreams]

Ace really wants to kiss you. 

He’s wanted to for a while today, but he swears that there are forces at work against him – every time he manages to find you, you’re busy. First it was finishing up a report (you’re more diligent about those, he’ll be the first to admit that), then it was helping in the kitchen, then helping Marco with something – never staying still for too long, flitting from one task to the next. Normally Ace admires how willing you are to lend a hand to anyone who needs it – but right now he needs you, and you’re ignoring him. (Not really, but playing the victim makes him feel a little better.)

So he settles for sulking until he drifts into one of his many afternoon naps, figuring that if nothing else, you’ll come find him when you’re (finally) not busy. He’s right, because when he finally rouses, his head is in your lap and one of your hands is busy stroking through his hair, the other propping open a book for you to read. 

Noticing his movement, you glance down at him. “Finally awake?”

“Kind of,” he yawns. “Ready to stop ignoring me?”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes at his dramatics. “I have not been ignoring you, you just have horrible timing to want attention from me.” 

Ace stares back, cheeks puffing in defiance. “Same thing.” He reaches up, tugging at a stray lock of hair. “Don’t you love me?” 

Despite his tone, there’s an undercurrent of uncertainty that longs for reassurance – that you aren’t tired of him, that he won’t push his limits too far and push you away.

Your expression softens. “Of course I do,” you answer, sending his heart stuttering in his chest. It’s moments like these that make him wonder if he really deserves you, with the way you look at him – like he alone hung the stars for you. “What did you need earlier? Must’ve been important.”

You’re teasing him – if it’d been of real, true importance, he’d have made sure that you were told, regardless of company or current task. But it’s still important, and he grins, tugging at your hair again. “Oh yeah, super important.”

You huff a soft laugh, setting your book aside. “Care to tell me now?”

“Nah.” His tone is lower, eyes flicking to the soft plush of your lips as he rolls over and pushes up, leaning so that you’re the one forced to lean back until you’re beneath him. “I’d rather show you.” 

You look so pretty like this, cheeks pink as you stare up at him, your own gaze flicking to his lips and back. “Don’t stare at me like that,” you protest, and he snickers.

“I’m not staring, I’m admiring,” he says, lowering himself so that he’s just a hair’s breadth from your face with his own, the tip of his nose brushing yours. “There’s a difference, you know.”

This time you do roll your eyes, the action ruined by the traitorous darkening of your cheeks and it sends his heartbeat stuttering in his chest before he remembers exactly what he’s been wanting to do for the better part of the day. He leans down as your head tips up expectantly, eyes sliding shut –

Only for your forehead to collide roughly with his as there’s the sharp rap of knuckles on the door, followed by a call of your name. Hand now clapped to your forehead, you fight to keep your voice from sounding pained. “Yeah?”

“When you’ve got a minute, Pops wants to talk to you, yoi.” 

“Got it,” you answer, “be out in a minute.”

If he weren’t also trying to nurse the blow to his forehead, Ace would tell Marco what to relay to Pops in lieu of your presence – but he keeps his mouth shut and listens to footsteps fade before he lowers his hand from his forehead and watches you do the same. 

“How bad is it?” you ask, and his eyes flick to survey the damage. 

“You might have a bruise,” he tells you as he reaches to rub at the red mark gently. “Is mine the same?” You nod, and he sighs. “Gonna have to come up with an excuse for it.” He hesitates, then moves to get off of you. “Guess you’ve gotta go.”

“Hold it.” You reach up, hand snagging at the back of his neck to pull him back down. “You were going to show me what you wanted earlier.”

“But Pops–”

You huff, rolling your eyes. “Ace, do you want to kiss me or not?” He does, very much so – and when he nods, you raise an eyebrow in prompting. “Well?”

He grins, eyes wildfire bright. “As you wish.”

And after a day full of distractions, Ace finally gets to kiss you.

[drabblesandimagines]

You said it yourself for the request trope: "forbidden love of best man and bride" 😉 Of course, with who else other than LEON S. KENNEDY!!! ❤️❤️❤️

Forever Hold Your Peace

Female reader x Chris Redfield, x Leon Kennedy, angst Leon feels like he can’t breathe. There’s a phantom pressure around his throat, like any breath he takes in is barely skimming the top of his lungs.

It’s not the tie – he’s checked, loosening it several times before doing it back up again. He hardly wears a tie, it had never been his style, really. That, and too obvious to be used as a weapon against him in hand-to-hand combat.

Not that he’s expecting to get into a brawl today.

A heavy hand slaps down on his back, jolting him out of his train of thought. “You look more anxious than me.”

“Nah,” he turns and steps back, creating a bit of distance between him and Chris.  “You’re just projecting.”

“Maybe.” Chris approaches the mirror in two long strides and sighs. “You know what? I’d kill for a cigarette.” “Want me to go grab a packet?”

“Nah,” he shakes his head, straightening his tie in the mirror. “I quit. Promised I’d be shot of it by the honeymoon. You could do me another favour, though.”

Leon lifts his arms wide, gesturing to his appearance. “Being your best man not count as enough favours for a lifetime?”

“Technically this falls into the responsibilities of a best man.” Chris squats down and Leon braces himself to hear the fabric rip - they’d spent an afternoon being fitted at a tailor, Redfield’s thighs and forearms were never gonna be accommodated off the rack – but it holds true. He stands upright, a silver giftbag held out in offering. “Could you take this to my bride-to-be?”

“Oh.” There’s the phantom squeeze again. “Don’t you… want to?”

“I can’t. It’s bad luck to see each other before the ceremony,” Chris shrugs, holding the gift bag out again in expectation, but Leon still doesn’t try to take it.  

“And you believe in that?” He scoffs as he puts his hands in his pockets.

“No… but I’m not jinxing anything today. It won’t take long – the bridal suite’s the floor above. Please?”

Leon sighs and accepts the gift bag at last.

--

You take a tentative sip of champagne to calm your nerves. It was the first moment all morning you’d been on your own – the room being a hub of activity since your alarm had gone off. The wedding planner had hit a snag with something or other and Claire had hurriedly offered to go and sort it in your steed.

This is it - in over an hour’s time you’d be Mrs Redfield. You hadn’t thought the day would ever come, but now, as you sat in your wedding dress that made you feel like a princess, sat at the dressing table in the bridal suite, you allow yourself to get a little bit excited. It had been a long engagement and you’d been fine with that, truly. What did a piece of paper saying you were husband and wife matter anyway? But Chris had returned from Romania, stoic and silent for a few days before mumbling in bed late one night that he wanted to start looking at venues. Soon after, a date was booked, a wedding planner hired, invitation cards sent out, food and wine tasting, a visit to a bakery when you’d smeared frosting on each other’s faces as you taste-tested what would be your wedding cake and, finally, bought your wedding dress – none of it had felt real. There was bound to be something that came up, a mission that would take him to foreign soil and mean the wedding had to be delayed.

There’s a hesitant knock at the door and you swivel on the stool, curious who it could be.

“Come in!”

The door opens, slowly, and a suited Leon S Kennedy walks in.

“Leon.” You hitch your skirt up to get to your feet, inexplicably feeling silly in the dress that had made you feel like a princess moments before. “Hi.”

“Wow. You look…” He trails off, breath caught in his throat at the sight before him.

“Terrible?” You tease, wanting to break the awkward silence.

“No.” He replies quickly, leaning back up against the door to close it. “You look beautiful.”

“Oh,” your cheeks prickle with heat at his compliment. “Thank you. You look great too.”

“Yeah, reckon I scrubbed up all right.” Leon chuckles with a shrug, before remembering the gift bag in his hand. “Er, here.” He straightens up and walks forward to meet you halfway across the room, holding it out.

“You shouldn’t have.” You accept it, your fingers brushing over his and goosebumps running up your arm at the contact. “Thank you.”  

“I didn’t.” He answers, abruptly, pulling his hand back and slipping it in his pocket. “I mean, I… There’s a card downstairs in the box. This is from Chris – he asked me to drop it off.”

“He did?” You can’t help the giddy smile that crosses your lips and Leon casts his eyes down to the ground – it’s not for him. You place the gift bag down on the table and pull out a small jewelry box from within, a notecard on top.

We made it, sweetheart. All my love, Chris x

You open the box carefully – scared of scratching off your nail polish – and find a simple silver heart-shaped pendent on a silver chain.

“What is it?”

“A necklace,” you hold it aloft in demonstration. “I didn’t get him anything, I didn’t even think to. Isn’t that awful?”

“You turning up at the altar will be gift enough for him, I’m sure.” Leon jokes, but he knows it lands flat from your polite laugh as you place the necklace carefully back in the box. “Aren’t you going to put it on?”

“Oh, erm, I don’t think I can, what with the veil and the hair, I’m scared I’ll detach something. Claire will be back soon anyway.”

Leon steps forward. “I can help?”

“Honestly, I’m sure she won’t be long.”

“I want to. Call it part of the delivery service.” His hand hovers over the jewelry box, awaiting permission.

“Okay.”

He picks it up, delicately, and steps right in front of you, before fiddling with the clasp of the chain. He’s careful as he holds both ends of the chain and reaches around your neck, impressed by how steady his hands are when his heart is pounding in his chest.

He withdraws one hand and hooks a finger under the chain, nestling it so the pendant sits just right in your decolletage.

This is the closest he’s been to you in years, your signature scent overwhelming his senses - of course you’d want to wear it on your wedding day – and somehow his hand is now on your cheek, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

He shouldn’t.

He really shouldn’t.

But he does, pressing his lips softly against yours.

For a moment, you reciprocate. Your hand automatically lifts to tangle in his locks before you regain your senses. “No.” You pull back, mad at yourself, mad at Leon. “No – this isn’t fair. You had your chance, you had multiple chances. You said you didn’t want a relationship.”

“I couldn’t give you this.” He gestures to your dress. “Not with my lifestyle.”

“I didn’t care about any of that!” Your voice breaks, tears burn at your eyes.

He scoffs, now defensive. “And look where we are – at your wedding.”

“No. Just because Chris did what you were never willing to do-”

“What, paint a target on your back?”

“Open up. Compromise. Literally anything.” And the dam breaks, tears trickling down your cheeks. It hadn’t even been a relationship, not in any proper sense of the word. Late night fumbles, broken promises, a note left on your pillow that he couldn’t give you what you wanted, despite never having the discussion.

“I couldn’t.”

“You didn’t even want to try!”

The door opens and Claire strides in, dressed in a vibrant red gown, tucking her cell in her black purse as you hurriedly try to wipe your face.

“Crisis averted and nearly time to head downsta… Leon - what are you doing in here?”

“Chris asked me to drop off a gift.” His tone is blunt.

“Y-yeah,” you sniff, hooking a finger around the chain to lift up the pendant. “It’s perfect, right?”

“Oh, he got it!” Claire squeals, taking a step forward to get a closer look. “He was so worried you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, I love it.” A rogue tear rolls down your cheek.

“Oh, sweetie, your make-up.” Claire fusses, heading towards the box of tissues on the dressing table. “Sit down.”

“Sorry.” You mumble, sitting down heavily on the stool. “I haven’t ruined it, have I?”

“Not at all.” She smiles, beginning to dab at the tear trails on your face. “Leon, shouldn’t you be heading back to Chris?”

“On my way.” He mocks a salute, before dipping both his hands back in his trouser pockets.

“Leon,” you call and he swings back round embarrassingly fast on his heels at your voice. “Can you thank Chris for me? Tell him I love it. And him.”

He nods and leaves.

--

“Should anyone present know of any reason that this couple should not be joined in holy matrimony,” the minister begins as you stand opposite Chris at the end of the aisle, your eyes flickering from the loving gaze of your groom to meet the best man’s icy blue eyes for a moment, your heart skipping a beat, “speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Leon clenches his fists.

-- Thank you for all your wonderful support, @porcelainseashore ❤️❤️

Masterlist . 1,000 followers event Comments and reblogs make my whole day!

[stargirlfics]

cherry cola | pedro pascal

Sweet and steamy, just you and him 🍒

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, RPF, woc!reader, established relationship, soft boyfriend!pedro vibes, fluff, smut: size kink, thigh riding, oral (reader receiving), biting kink, unprotected PiV

Word Count: 3.1k

Wrote this for @natromanxv as a very belated birthday request! I love how it turned out and hope you enjoy, bestie! All my love!

Stars gleam softly in your eyes, the kitchen table the only thing keeping your bodies from scooting impossibly closer in the evening light. 

Neither of you had to speak, not in this moment at least, simply content to sit across from each other while the fuzzy scratch of a vinyl played.

Cherry pie and fizzy cola sweetened the air. Ruffled hair then a pair of gentle brown eyes belonging to Pedro swept over you, bringing out the warmth in your cheeks. 

He’d come over for dinner tonight, and though you were distracted more than a couple times with the inevitable shoulder bump rotating around your kitchen as you prepped ingredients together, there wasn’t a moment you weren’t smiling—or in a fit of laughter, god only knows who started it by now. 

You liked these moments best, when it was just the two of you getting to enjoy each other’s company. Something about his presence was so deeply calming you could feel everything slowing down. 

There was no rush, no urgency to do or be anything but yourself around Pedro and it never failed to thrill you. 

That’s how you felt now, watching him clear space on the table, dessert plates and that bottle of his favorite wine moved out of the way, making room for your hands to stretch out, the tips of your fingers meeting his before you’re passing lazy circles over the warm skin of his knuckles.

“How are you so beautiful? I could look at you for hours.” Pedro sighs and you’re beaming. 

The look on his face is soft and warm and you want to curl up against his chest, stray thoughts sparking at the thought of his arms around you; how lately his hold on you, the grip, the heaviness of his hands was stronger and you were more enticed by it than you realized. 

So you shrug, trying to hide the way your chest feels flush at his compliment, “Guess I do it without even trying…I never get tired looking at you either you know.” 

You tease back but there’s a little suggestion in your tone, making him shift in the chair, head tilting to the side while you watch him cross his arms, hands clasped and resting on his chest. 

Now with more relaxed posture your attention was drawn to his lap instead of his hands, right to the way his shirt had ridden up. Just a peek of his tummy under the fabric reminding you of how badly you’d been thinking of and wanting him all day. 

“Nah, this face? I think I have the best view by far.” He scoffs but his steadily widening smile matches yours. 

“Yeah that face, which by the way is depriving mine of kisses right now and I think that’s kind of mean.”

It’s the fake huff and pout you do that really sells it. His grin turns playful before leaning in, warm and steady hands finding a familiar home against the curve of your jaw. 

His nose just barely brushes yours before your mouths meet with a soft hum and suddenly you’re getting swept up in the way his lips taste like sugar and wine and how it lingers even after he pulls back.

“Can I help you clean up and you can pick what we listen to this time?” He coaxes you sweetly but you don’t need any convincing, his words are snagged just a second behind in your mind, however, still occupied with thoughts of him and only him. 

“Yes, please! Hope you don’t mind a little Lust for Life.”

—

Now it’s Pedro’s turn to be distracted, watching when you weren’t looking as you dried and put away dishes, your “concentrated on the current task” face so endearing he can’t help but sneak side glances as he finishes up washing the last few plates in the sink. 

He was happy that you looked at ease and took note of all the things about you that took his breath away, a whole list unending. 

The slope of your nose and those brown eyes, brown skin, the sound of your laugh like an anchor in unsteady waters, nevermind the caress of your hands, your skin on his, always reaching for him, it all made him feel like he was exactly where he was supposed to be.   

It’s not hard for him to find things about you he adores and especially tonight, it all bubbles up in his chest and he wants nothing more than to press you against him and kiss you dizzy. 

Nothing compares, nothing and no one can light that fire that burns so molten just for you, flashes of sunset on your features and the aura of love everywhere feeling like home. 

There’s flowers in a vase by the window, the same ones he stopped by to give you earlier that week, just a simple effort to brighten your day when he knew you’d been stressed. Reds and oranges pop as the sun bathes the sweet smelling blooms in light and Pedro smiles again, reminded of how your eyes lit up when he showed up at your door, your body melting into his when he scooped you up for a hug. 

Now, you’re speaking to him again and his focus is renewed, indulging in your suggestions for things to do with the rest of your evening together, knowing already that it didn’t matter what transpired, as long as he was here with you, he was happy.

Afterwards, your head is in his lap and the rest of your body is curled up close while a movie plays but neither of you are really paying that much attention to what’s happening on the screen. 

Pedro’s fingers brush across your shoulder and down your back while his other hand was draped across your hip had you once again distracted and restless, his hold is gentle but the sureness of his hands and the weight of his arms only made your core ache. 

You wanted him so bad and weren’t sure if you could keep it to yourself any longer. 

The couch is almost too comfy underneath you to shift from the position you’re in but the sight of his hands gives you the final push that you need, turning so you were facing him, cheek resting on his thigh. 

Looking up at him steals your words, caving when he notices and glances down at you with the softest expression, the one that’s especially soft for you. 

You almost don’t register him whispering hello to you, caught up in the streaks of gray in his beard and the ones peppered in his hair that are your favorite, down to his neck that you can’t ever seem to stop yearning to leave a trail of love bites over and the broad edges of his shoulders that carry so much without wavering. 

A million things race through your mind and you’re flustered when you whisper back, hoping he won’t be able to feel the way your cheeks tingle with heat but the pad of his thumb is already sweeping over your temple. 

“You know I’m really impressed with how patient you’ve been tonight. I’m trying to keep up but, baby,” his amused hum brings relief, “You’re making that a challenge.” 

He knows what kind of mood you’re in and it’s been mutual the entire night and even you’re surprised at the thrill that runs up your spine at this realization and at his praise for your restraint. You want more. 

“I just wanted to savor it.” 

“And now how bad do you want me?”

“More than anything..” 

It sounds like a plea and you’re not ashamed to beg but you are a bit shy about having your desire so displayed. 

Though there wasn’t any need for worry, Pedro always encouraged and nourished any of your wants, so leaning into the tension felt easy, just as easy as it was for your heart to quicken automatically at the sound of his voice. 

Watching him then, breaths shallow and the very center of you aching to be touched before you’re holding back a gasp, big hands hauling you to sit up, then nudging you across his lap. 

“I need you too. C’mere.” 

You’re already pressed close but he says it with so much love that you wrap yourself around him further, not needing to be told twice. 

There’s hunger in this kiss, pulling you in, knocking something loose inside you that pushes you to sink right into the affection you knew had no end. 

Hands roam, his, sweeping down over your neck and shoulders and yours bracing against his torso. His tummy is soft and toned and you can feel the way he hums in his chest when your touches move further up, just itching to rest on those strong shoulders of his. 

Your living room felt like a hundred degrees with each well placed kiss to your lips and then across your jaw, so searing even when he’d given you a second to catch your breath. Not that it mattered because your next breath came as a whimper when his mouth found a sensitive sliver of skin at your neck. 

His responding grunt and laugh make you squirm without thinking, rocking against the thickest part of his thigh, both of you sighing in relief at the contact and you find yourself chasing that jolt of pleasure with another unconscious circle of your hips.

Pedro helps you then, both hands keeping a steady pressure on your waist to give you some leverage while you find the right rhythm. 

It made you whimper seeing how much he wanted you to do what felt good, encouraging you to go the pace you wanted which only drove the sound of your little whines and huffs of breath to desperation. 

Pedro can’t decide what’s better, those sweet little sounds or the sight of you riding him looking so grateful for it or if it’s how you’re clinging to his shoulders with the same desperation that’s laced in your moans. 

Either way you made him throb, god if you knew just how much you affected him on the daily. 

As if you could tell what he was thinking you reached a hand down to steady yourself against his waist and the low gasp you let slip said everything. 

He’s hard and his jeans are strained and it makes you smile to yourself proudly, working your hips down on him a little harder thinking about how deep he’d be if you were riding his dick instead.

“Yeah there you go…so fuckin pretty, baby.” he praised you again and again, leaning his head back against the couch so he could keep watching. 

He coaxes you to look at him too and you can barely keep eye contact with how adoring and filthy his gaze is but you try, for him you try and you swear you can feel just how soaked you are from this alone. 

“Please, I need more.”

It drives you crazy still having all these clothes on and you can tell he feels the same, helping you take his shirt off when you tug at it. His hands then find their way underneath the hem of yours and pull it up and over your head swiftly. 

You move off him with some reluctance after that but your skin is still tingling and you’re being spun around just seconds later to face his knees. 

Catching on is easy despite your state of arousal; it’s haziness. You follow his lead, bending over a little and sticking your ass out, waiting patiently for him to scoot forward on the couch and slip your bottoms off. 

He’d never make you wait long, even if the seconds feel like minutes. Your feet shift in anticipation when the last scrap of fabric drops to the floor, heart racing.

His breath fans across your skin and you bite your lip when he kisses the curve of your ass, thick fingers grabbing and kneading flesh before tugging you open so he could see. A hushed string of curses make their way to your ears and you’re arching your back just a little more, hoping he’ll do what you think he’s gonna do. 

You peek back over your shoulder and watch too, his eyes flicking up to yours and you notice the flash of his tongue sweeping across his lips like he’s making sure he really has your attention when he moves in to bury his face in your pussy. 

The resounding groan from both of you is loud, wanton and you’re already reaching back to slide your fingers into his hair while he tastes you further, his tongue dragging the sweetest circles over your clit, paying close attention to the way your body responds. 

If you were soaked before you’re a complete mess now. 

Prickles of heat skitter across your spine and settle in your abdomen with each pass of his tongue over your folds and his nose nudging against you unabashedly.  

It’s enough to bring you to your knees, you can feel the way your thighs start to tremble but you keep grinding back, your grip on his hair balancing the tilt of your hips while his hands keep you spread open for him. 

He’s obsessed with how you taste, how you shudder when his mouth closes around your clit, how he can feel you clenching when his tongue presses against your entrance, greedy only for what he can give you. 

You’re so good for him, always so good and he can’t help but reward you, spoil you, content to eat you out until you tell him otherwise. 

Savoring every bit of this, you don’t realize how worked up you really are until you’re whining, needing more, needing him to stuff you full and make you forget where your bodies begin and end. 

Chants of “please” leave your lips in whispers, until the words are choked out moans. “Please, please fuck me. I want you so bad, Pedro…just please…” 

“Mm I will, honey. Turn around for me, I want you right here.” his voice is deep rasp now and you’re moving immediately. 

The air feels charged now, your blood singing, every part of your body feeling every bit of the tension coursing through you. 

Your knees dip into the cushions and you tilt your hips up high again, laying your cheek on the back of the couch, smiling as you watched him position you how he wanted and then finally, slip out of his pants. 

Something about being on your knees, perched over the couch like this while he stands so tall and broad over you makes everything feel so much hotter, your hips swaying a little, trying to be seductive and inviting now that he was stroking his cock, coming closer and closer until the tip was sliding across the slick puddle between your thighs. 

“Is this what you’ve been wanting? Just wanna be fucked already, huh?” he grinds against you, slicking himself up and you’re nearly panting now, nodding your head. “I’ve got you, baby.” 

You reach down to help him find the right angle as he presses against your entrance, pushing in slow and steady, letting you adjust to the stretch with every inch he gives you. 

“Ohh…” the rest of your moan is muffled but he can hear it, the slight strain in the symphony of your pleasure when his hips sit flush with yours. 

Pedro takes in the sight of you again, grinning when you look back at him, craning your neck.

He knows exactly what he has to give you, making sure you can see the flash of his length shiny with your juices as he pulls back just to push into you again, not holding back as much now that he knew you were ready for more. 

He loves that you can’t help but watch, proud of you for taking him so well and begging for more already, a hand smoothing down your back, massaging the curve of your hips before he grips you tightly. 

Your eyes flutter closed when he leans down so you’re caged by his chest, the only thing you can see or feel is his body now, moving against yours just how he knows you like it. 

It feels so good, every bounce of your ass against his hips, the way he peppers kisses across your shoulder and over your neck, fucking you just a little deeper each time. 

“Fuck, you feel good,” he groans against your ear and you’re whimpering again, letting him hold you where he liked, taking what he gives you, gasping each time he knocks against that spot that makes your muscles tremble. 

“Oh my god! Don’t stop, don’t stop!” your breaths are strangled, pushed from your chest with deep thrusts.  

His lips graze over your shoulder again and you think he’s going to leave more kisses but this time you feel teeth graze over the soft spot between your neck and your collarbone, biting down gently but enough to make it ache. 

It makes you push your hips back into him, crying out when his mouth stays there on your neck. His hips drop to grind against you giving you nowhere to squirm to and you’re sure you’re seeing stars when he snakes a hand around to your front, first pressing against your tummy before his fingers are circling your clit in tight motions. 

“That’s it, baby. My good girl, go for it.” he encourages when he feels your walls start to clench around him, knowing you’re so close you can almost touch it. 

High moans and curses bubble up from your throat as you’re sent crashing into your orgasm, your mind already floating listening to him talk you through it, tethering you to him and grounding you in your body as you rode out the waves of pleasure racking your body, his thrusts only slowing but never stopping. 

It takes a second for you to feel like you can breathe again but as you look back at him, this time it isn’t so hard to keep your eyes on his, your mood even filthier now than before and you knew he was picking up on it too.

Slick sweat covers your bodies and you’re aching for more when you reach back to touch him, your fingers pinching his skin just as he started to pick up pace again, never tiring of the slap of skin and how you clutched at whatever part of him you could. 

He hoped you knew just how much he desired you and cherished you always and if you didn’t, he was about to spend every hour he could reminding you. 

Dusk was settling on the horizon now and you were buried in the cushions, telling the man you loved just how much you needed him, just how much you wanted to cream around him again and again and it is exactly where you want to be tonight and every night.

Right at home.

———

A/N: Peep the Lust for Life Lana album mention 🍒🥰 I was listening to Cherry and then Cola pretty much all throughout the writing process and well here we are! Also wanted to say that I approached this fic with it being RPF with as much respect for Pedro as possible and hope that comes through in my words. I wanted this fic to have a ~passionate and loving but hot and dirty~ feel to it and I think it’s giving that so !!! I had a lot of fun with this!

Thank you so much for reading <3

some no pressure tags! @moreofem @wyn-n-tonic @kittenlittle24 @kneelforloki @pipsqueakkitten @daddy-din @blkmorticia

[fanfic-writer-and-rambler]

Damian stands next to his father's bed. He's in his PJs with a glass of water.

Damian for the fifteenth time: Please.

Bruce, with a pillow covering his face as he lays in bed: No.

Damian: Please.

Bruce: No.

Damian: Father... Please

Bruce: Damian, no.

Damian: Why not?

Bruce, breathing heavily: Because... We're not practicing Judaism!

Damian: Hm... I don't see the snag here. Grandma Martha was Jewish correct?

Bruce (sighing under the pillow): Yes.

Damian: Then why can't I get a bat mitzvah?

Bruce: Bar mitzvah! Bat mitzvahs are for girls! When you turn 13 I can throw you a party, but a BAR mitzvah takes a lot of pre-planning. You have to memorize a passage from the Torah! You have to study this for months or years. There will be no bar mitzvah! I command it! Can I sleep now?

Damian: Hm... I fail to see the issue. I'm intelligent enough.

Bruce: Damian you are trying my patience. It is 4 in the morning and I'm not repeating myself.

Damian: But... mother said I was owed one. Her new smother mother behavior is annoying, but she says I have the right to learn about my family heritage.

Bruce: You and I both know that that insane woman is not one to give good advice about learning family heritage!

Damian: Mm... But father, I love you.

Bruce grits his teeth while pounding his fist against his pillow.

Bruce: Damian...

Damian: Yes, loving father?

Bruce: I... Will... Think about it.

Damian (satisfied): All right, I'm taking you up on that promise. Thank you father.

Damian leaves the room.

Bruce (exhausted): This is my life. This is my life as Batman. How is Bane breaking my back less annoying than this?!

Later at the Justice League headquarters.

Batman: I'm so exhausted and I haven't even gone to a bat mitzvah for the distant family that I have rarely met because I hate that side of my family!

Arrow: Crazy family, been there, it's a bar mitzvah, btw.

Batman: Oh God, you corrected me!

Batman lays his head on the table and moans in sadness. Arrow pats him on the head.

Arrow: You can handle this, Batman. You're actually way less stressed than I am with big events like this... And insane family members.

Batman: I do my best.

Arrow: I can see that. As for your kid, maybe give him a mock bar mitzvah. You're rich, you can do what you want.

Batman: I'm not... Well... Nah it would feel morally wrong.

Arrow: I got you. When his birthday rolls around, contact me. I'm pretty good at party planning I can work something up that's close to a bar mitzvah without any of the mortality issues.

Batman, surprised: Th- Th- Thank... You. Am I in the phantom zone?

Superman, offended: I told you to not make jokes about that!

He storms off.

Arrow: Is that cousin of yours-

Batman: A lesbian, yes.

Arrow: Damn it! Contact my office about the party either way. You look like you're stressed with all of this.

Batman laying his head on the table, gives a thumbs up.