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#go home talk to your family play with your kids go play outside
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A preview of chapter 37 of Come Away, O Human Child
His new friend is a sprite he finds out, a few days after he helps it find the nest some others have built back in a patch of blackberry bushes a little ways away from his back yard. He’s not really sure how he feels about that—sprites aren’t supposed to be very friendly. That’s what he’s seen in cartoons and commercials and the safety lessons he has at school sometimes. Sprites are always mean and nasty in the TV shows, and the park ranger that came to his school at the beginning of the year to talk about lesser fae and magical creatures and how they should talk to them and treat them had a whole big lesson about sprites.
They’re dangerous. Not evil, Ranger Tammy was careful to say. But they don’t like humans very much—don’t even like other lesser fae and creatures that much—and they can play mean tricks on people. Sometimes they even steal people! Little kids, mostly, and he kind of got the feeling that the grownups all meant something else besides “steal” when they were talking about people who had disappeared when they messed around with sprites.
He'd been a little afraid when his new friend called itself a sprite, remembering how worried and angry the wisps had been when it first showed up. He’d stayed away from the woods behind their house, sticking to the front yard, playing with the wisps that always hung out in the trees on their street.
Wisps got bored quickly, though, no matter how much they liked him, and they couldn’t really talk to him. Same with the garden elves. The house across the street had a family of brownies that worked for them, but he hardly ever saw them outside. Maddie was so busy with school…she even had driving school, now! And his parents…
He’s lonely. Sometimes he feels like he’s always going to be lonely, no matter how many people are around him.
So when the sprite appears a few days after he first meets it, looking out at him from the bushes beside their driveway, he doesn’t go back inside. The wisps have lost interest in him for now, and there are no garden elves or other creatures around to talk to.
Ranger Tammy had said sprites weren’t evil…they were dangerous the same way a wild animal was dangerous. But this one hadn’t hurt him. None of the others in the nest he’d found had hurt him. Magical creatures always like him—even the ones that don’t have much to do with humans always like him.
He’s so lonely.
“Hi,” he says, looking around to see if anyone is watching him before crawling under the branches of the large bush, giggling when the leaves tickle his face.
The sprite hops backwards a few times, its wings flapping with a soft sound before settling in close to its back. It watches him without speaking, the ruby-red eyes glowing softly in the shadows. “Hello again,” it says, tapping its claws on the ground.
“Are you having a good time with your friends?” he asks, curling up to sit criss-cross-applesauce. The sprite tilts its head, frowning, before it flashes its teeth at him.
“Ah. Good time, yes. Letting me stay. It has been…a long time since I had a nest.”
“Oh. Didn’t your mom and dad have one?” He props his chin up in his hands, always curious about magical creatures and lesser fae.
The sprite snorts, a sound that might be a laugh hissing out between its teeth. “They did. Gone now. Cadre gone. Nest gone. For a long time. This cadre needs more members to grow strong. Convenient.” It looks off to the side, its wings drooping. “Nice,” it says softly.
“What’s a ca…dre?” he asks, stumbling over the new word. The sprite looks up at him, its tongue flicking out.
“Hmm. What we call ourselves when we are together. Used to be many. Hundreds. Thousands. Cadres are smaller now. Scattered.”
“Oh, like a family?” He perks up, thinking how nice it would be to have hundreds of people to come home to.
“Human word. But not wrong.” The sprite digs its claws into the dirt again, then takes a few slow hops toward him. It sniffs him, its wings flapping, and he almost wants to reach out and pet it. That would be really rude, though.
“Do you want to play with me?” he asks instead, hoping that the sprite actually wants to hang out for a little bit.
The sprite goes still, its tongue flicking out over its sharp, sharp teeth. “Play what?” it says in a curious voice, blinking up at him.
He shrugs. “I dunno…hide and seek?”
The sprite freezes again, before throwing its head back and letting out a wheezing laugh. “Hide and seek,” it repeats, its wings shaking. “Easy as that?” It takes a few more hops, backwards this time, and then narrows its glowing eyes at him. “Perhaps a trade…you hide. If I find, you answer a question.” It smiles at him again, that toothy grin that isn’t quite nice, but doesn’t make him feel scared. Still, he chews on his lip for a minute, thinking carefully.
It's not ever a good idea to trade anything with a creature or lesser fae. Most of them are perfectly safe, of course, but you can never be a hundred percent sure that you’re not dealing with one of the ones that want to trick you into giving away more than you think you are. He’s only six, but he knows that the right answer is ‘no, thank you, I don’t want to trade.’ But he also knows that most people don’t get along with creatures and lesser fae the way he does. He doesn’t really understand why, but he just knows, deep down in his bones, that magical creatures won’t ever hurt him.
“What kind of question?” he asks, still thinking.
The sprite’s sharp smile doesn’t fade. For a moment, it almost looks proud. “Would like to know you better. Your magic is very bright—would like to see how you use it. I will not harm you here, Evan Buckley. Give you my word.”
He is a lonely little boy, and he has never had to worry around a magical creature. It does not occur to him to question how the sprite knows his name, when names are so incredibly important in the world of magic. Nor does he notice the very specific phrasing in the sprite’s promise not to harm him. He grins at the sprite and scrambles out from under the bush.
“Count to twenty!” he shrieks and goes racing for the back yard.
*
The sprite plays with him almost every day for weeks and weeks. Hide and seek, tag, I Spy…it even tries to kick a soccer ball around with him, though that doesn’t exactly end well. Eventually, some of the other sprites from the nest start joining in their games, mostly younger ones. Well. He thinks they’re younger than his friend. They’re smaller and their wings aren’t quite as veiny and covered in scars. They don’t really talk to him, but their smiles are a little nicer than his friend’s. It’s really nice, knowing that there’s going to be somebody waiting to play with him as soon as he gets home from school every day.
His friend keeps up their deal at first—every time it finds him, or tags him, or beats him at any of their other games, it asks him questions about himself. It really does seem to be curious about his magic—how he casts different spells, what he can do without a spell, how strong his magic is. It watches him perform all sorts of magic, and that is also nice. Mom and Dad mostly try to get him to hide how strong his magic is, and while Maddie never tells him to hide, she also doesn’t really encourage him to use it outside of the house. He likes having someone who wants to see everything he can do. Eventually, though, his friend seems to run out of questions, and for a few days he’s afraid the sprites will stop playing with him.
His friend keeps showing up, though, always waiting for him somewhere out of the way and hidden while he puts his backpack up in his room and wanders into the kitchen to find whatever snack Maddie has left for him. Sometimes the sprite has to stay away while he greets the wisps and other creatures that are never far from his house…the wisps especially do not like the sprites. He feels a little bad about it, actually, and wishes all of them could get along together. Still, it’s not like the wisps are staying away from him—and he has so much fun with the sprites.
Everything is going fine. He’s even thinking about asking the sprites if he can introduce Maddie to them. He thinks Maddie would like to see how many new friends he’s made, and a part of him kind of hopes that if she knows how much fun he has with them, she’d like to join in. Maddie has been so busy lately—driver’s ed, and drama club, and studying, and hanging out with her friends at school. She still has time for him. Maddie will always have time for him—he knows that the same way he knows that he’s always safe around magical creatures. It’s something he knows all the way down to his bones, knows it so well that it’s a part of him. He’ll always have Maddie. Just…he doesn’t have her as much as he used to.
He is trying to think of the best way to ask his friend if he can bring Maddie the next time they meet up when he hears a strange shrieking sound. He freezes, looking wildly around the woods. They’re unusually empty for this time of day—usually the wisps and elementals that live in the trees and bushes around their house are waiting for him to come out and play when he gets back from school. But he doesn’t even see any birds or butterflies. His heart starts to speed up as the air splits with another awful shriek, and the air grows thick with magic. He almost turns around and runs back to the house…but the sounds are coming from the direction of the sprites’ nest.
His friend said the nest was expecting a clutch of eggs to hatch any day now—almost twenty of them. He’s not really sure, but the way his friend talks he kind of thinks that babies don’t happen very often for sprites, and even when they do, there aren’t usually so many. His friend and the others have been really nervous for the past few days as the eggs get closer and closer to hatching. They won’t tell him exactly why, but his friend said hatching time could be dangerous for the nest.
He bites his lip and starts forward, picking his way through the bushes and branches, following the tiny path that leads to the big tangle of bramble and thorns that the sprites live in. The feel of magic in the air gets thicker and thicker, so much that he can almost taste it on his tongue, feel it sliding down his throat. It’s wilder magic than he’s used to, feels older somehow. When he breaks through to the clearing the sprites built their nest in, he gasps, his eyes going wide and round.
The sprite nest—usually dry and dead-looking—is lit up from inside. The bright glow of magic, the same deep red as the sprites’ eyes, makes it look like the nest is burning. It’s kind of pretty, but also kind of scary looking, and he freezes again, just staring. He doesn’t know quite how many sprites live in the nest, but it looks like most of them are whirling through the air around it. Small bursts of red fly from their hands every few seconds, raining down on the sprite nest and making it glow brighter. The shrieking is coming from inside the nest, wild yelps and shouts that sound like something is being attacked. Several of them are scattered on the ground around the nest, panting hard, their wings flapping weakly as they try to get back up.
It takes a moment, but some of the sprites finally notice him. A few dart towards him, making the same shrieking noise he can hear inside the nest, shooing him away before wheeling off to rejoin the cloud of sprites whipping through the air. He takes a few stumbling steps backwards, almost turns to run again, when his friend suddenly swoops down out of the sky to land on the ground in front of him.
“You shouldn’t be here! It’s dangerous!” it hisses, and he’s almost too scared to notice that it sounds different than it usually does—clearer, more like a person. All the sprites talk to him in short, broken sentences, kind of like the garden elves. He stares at his friend in shock.
“What’s happening?” he squeaks, his eyes flying back to the cloud of sprites as the shrieks get louder. His friend takes a few quick hops back towards the nest, its wings flapping.
“The eggs are hatching,” it mumbles, and he thinks it looks…worried. Maybe even scared. “The young ones feed on the cadre’s magic when they hatch. Makes them strong, helps them grow.” It takes a few more steps towards the nest, shaking its head. “Cadre’s too small for all the hatchlings. There should be others around to help.” Its wings slump down. “Too few nests in the area…no help, most of the hatchlings will die.” His friend sounds so sad as it speaks, and he can’t help but think of the times it’s talked about how things used to be for sprites—how big their “cadres” would get, how many nests would be spread all over the place.
The sprites have been so excited to have such a big clutch of eggs, but now he understands why they’ve been so nervous, too. It sounds like most of the baby sprites aren’t going to make it. He looks around as a few more sprites drop to the ground, now realizing they must be exhausted from trying to feed all the babies. He doesn’t know if sprites can get backlash shock or anything, but it looks like they’re wearing themselves out trying to help the eggs hatch.
His magic itches under his skin, a strange feeling shivering through him. Weirdly, he feels like someone is laughing at him. The way Maddie does when he says or does something she thinks is cute—so fond and warm that he doesn’t even mind that she’s laughing at him.
He can do it if he likes; it’s his choice.
He doesn’t know where the thought comes from…or why it suddenly feels like he has permission for something. But he finds himself taking a slow step towards his friend.
“Can I help?” he asks, shrinking back when his friend whirls around on him. He licks his lips and tries to make his voice sound tougher. More sure. “I want to help. I have lots of magic! I can…I think I can…” He holds his hand out, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to push his magic towards the nest, tries to make it into a ball of power like the sprites are all throwing. When he opens his eyes again, there’s a small, wavery orb of gold light floating over his palm. His friend stares at it with wide eyes.
“You would…share?” it asks, creeping closer to him. It sounds shocked, like it can’t even understand why he would say something like that. That makes him even sadder.
“Yeah,” he says, holding his hand out. He tries to concentrate really hard, tries to pull more magic into the little ball, make it bigger. Like it always does, his magic seems to realize what he wants to do and he feels a surge of power as the ball grows brighter. Stronger. His friend blinks, looking back between him and the nest a few times, as though it’s checking to see if they are being watched. Then it leaps up into the air, fluttering around him before landing on his shoulder.
“Yes. Yes…please,” it says, its claws digging into his shirt, its wings brushing against the side of his face. It makes a strange sound, almost like a bird call, and a bunch of the sprites in the air turn to look at them. “The nest,” his friend whispers. “Just guide your power to the nest—the others will do the rest.”
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geddy-leesbian · 2 days
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since June 1st is the birthday I've had picked out for the twins in my rockstar/actor!Luis AU, here's a quick lil drabble of their fourth birthday 💖
The second he opens the door to the playroom, Luis is bombarded by the twins. Both of them are wearing their poofy, sparkly, fancy princess dresses; Juliana's is purple, and Belén's is pink. He takes it like a champ, immediately grinning and kneeling down to hug them and kiss the tops of their heads.
“Birthday girls!” Luis ruffles their hair and notices something. “Where did your tiaras you had this morning go?!”
“Up there,” Leon says, pointing to the top of their adorable, on-theme castle shaped bookshelf. “Had to take them away because they kept taking them off and trying to beat each other with them.”
“Slander. My sweet princesses would never do such a thing.” Luis says, voice dripping with sarcasm.
Leon rolls his eyes. The twins were good kids, never had any problems with other kids at preschool, but they did like to rough house with each other. It was perfectly normal for their age so they didn't punish them for it and mostly let it play out, but Leon or Luis always had to watch closely to make sure they didn't accidentally get too rough and actually hurt each other. Which usually just meant taking away whatever objects they decided were makeshift weapons.
“Papi! Papi!” Juliana suddenly shouts right into Luis's ear, making him wince. She was definitely Luis's daughter. With each passing day, she looked more and more like him. Her sister retained her pale complexion and light red hair, but Juliana's had darkened as she aged. Now she has dark brown hair and warm tanned skin only a little bit lighter than her father's. She took after him in personality too, always talking, usually obnoxiously loudly too. “Can we ride horses now? Please? We wanted to before but Daddy said we had to wait for you.”
“No, no!” Belén jumps in. “Sing for us?”
“No! Horses!”
Leon gets a little misty eyed watching the scene unfold. They know it's their birthday. The special occasion is why they've got their full princess costumes on, and Leon kept hyping them up all day, reminding them that Papi had a surprise work thing, but as soon as he got home there would be birthday presents and cake. Now he's home, and the twins just want the same things he does with most normal days.
“It's okay, princesses, no fighting! We do both! Horses in a few minutes, music when we're done. Then cake and presents! I see Daddy already braided your hair, so go to your room and get changed, then get your helmets and boots on,” The twins run off, giving Luis space to greet Leon with a kiss on the cheek. Leon isn't even showing yet, but that doesn't stop Luis from rubbing his belly to greet their third that's now on the way. “Hey, mi amor, I love you. I got the living room decorated before coming back here, but seems like they really want out there for a bit, before we get going on birthday festivities. I know you feel too anxious to ride now, but are you up for going out and walking with us?”
“Yeah,” While he didn't let it show, Leon was just as eager as the twins to get out there. Though he didn't grow up with access to a horse like Luis did, he'd quickly come around and really enjoyed the family time they had doing trail rides. They had two horses, so Leon would ride with one twin in front of him, and Luis would ride with the other twin. He wasn't going to just give that up, he was happy to walk beside holding the reins to lead one horse, since the twins weren't ready to ride on their own. “I can definitely handle that. And I'm sorry you have to come home from work and immediately have to do a bunch of shit for them with no break. Would've gotten the decorations up myself and taken them outside to run around and get some energy out before you got home, but this damn first trimester fatigue is kicking my ass. I'll be fine walking, just didn't have the energy for chasing them around.”
“You're so stupid sometimes. You should know by now that doing things for and with them is a break for me. I'm sorry, that I had to spend the first half of their birthday on the movie set instead of here celebrating, giving you a break to nap…”
“It's okay, your movie is important too. I'm excited to see it. I'm tired, but I'll live. How's your voice going to be though? Don't want you wearing it out, they'll be okay if they go right from horses to presents with no singing.”
“It's their birthday, they want me to sing, I'm going to sing. My voice is okay. Today was just last minute reshoots of something the director randomly decided he didn't like. There was no singing, soundtrack was done weeks ago.”
When the twins come back into the room, Luis fusses over their helmets, making sure they're on properly. Then Leon heads for the living room with them. He grins when he sees the living room. Luis, of course, went all out, filling the room with so much glittery pink shit. Balloons, streamers, banners with their names, a small piñata… Leon half expects the girls to get distracted by it all and not want to go outside anymore, but they appear to be hell bent on getting horse time and go right to the front door without hesitation.
While Luis changes into his boots, Leon grabs the twins’ hands and starts walking out, knowing Luis is a fast enough walker to catch up easily. They inherited Luis's tendency to wander and run off outside, so Leon always insisted on holding their hands for even the shortest of walks outside. (Luis was less strict about it, believing a little bit of childhood wandering was healthy, but accepting of Leon's desire to be more cautious.)
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oars · 1 year
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i feel like we're forgetting to be human. forgetting just how to be a person outside
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princessbrunette · 7 months
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All i can think about is rafe cameron buying you stupidly expensive lingerie sets for christmas😵‍💫 and then after breakfast he asks you to model them🤭
SANTA BABY ♡
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gettin me in the festive spirit hehehe this made me wanna spend xmas with the cameron’s so bad :((
cw: christmas duh, family bonding time, i aged Wheezie down to be like 6 years old bc i think it would be cute idk LMAOOO , suggestive themes but nothing too crazy ❀
At his core, Rafe Cameron liked to think he was a family man. He’d often flip out, misbehave, and shit talk his family members it’s true, but Christmas was a time he liked to put it all behind him (Atleast until the new year starts, and he can start up his usual BS)
As you can imagine, Christmas at the Cameron’s was something extravagant. Humungous white christmas tree with silver decorations at the centre of the house, the outside of the house decked with lights that required enough power to start up 3 yachts, fake snow on the porch and Frank Sinatras Christmas album playing round the house at each corner. The years had only softened Ward, and whilst he could be cruel, hard on Rafe and borderline forgetful of Wheezies existence — Christmas was where he shone brightest, just wanting to do right by his kids and now, you, his sons girlfriend.
Receiving presents from the family was a whole different ballgame to your usual Christmas at home, Ward having grinned ear to ear when he handed you the box with the Tiffany’s heart tag charm bracelet glittering under the Christmas lights of the early morning (Wheezie being Wheezie woke everyone up at 6AM sharp.) Rafe, who’d insisted you’d curled right up to his side on the couch wearing his robe resisted an eye roll, his dad always having to out do him, but you seemed elated and he felt his heart warm.
They went all out, Rose handing you a literal 90’s Blumarine runway piece she’d simply overheard you talking Rafes ear off about, the next 5 minutes spent by you and Sarah fawning over it. Sarah’s gift was next, a set of SKIMS dresses you’d been saving to your Pinterest which she couldn’t help but notice, and of course Wheezie proudly handing you a glittery macaroni necklace she’d crafted you at school, which you had no choice but to act like it was the best gift of all.
Come Rafe’s turn, he simply offered his family a smile and patted your side, turning his head to look at you. “I’ve got her presents in my room, figured I’d give it to you privately.” He teases, ignoring Sarah’s ‘Barf’ comment from her cross legged position on the floor beside her little sister.
The family dispersed for a little while, Sarah helping Wheezie set up her new toys on the carpet infront of the tree, Rose and Ward going to start up the food in the kitchen (Ward insists on cooking everything themselves instead of having the chefs do it, because it was tradition.) Before you could wander in there and offer your help, you were being pulled back gently by the arm into your fluffy robe clad boyfriend wearing a poorly masked excited smile. “What, you don’t want your present from me?”
He slides a box from under his bed when you get up to his room again, covered with thin pink gift paper to hide the logo. He sits on his chair, robe falling between his legs and bare knees exposed outwards. “C’mon, sit on santas lap.” He grins and you mirror him, skipping over, happy and spoiled and perching on his leg. He puts the box in your lap and you peel away the paper to see the Agent Provocateur logo with the iconic black ribbon. You widen your eyes at him as if to say ‘Okaaaay, good job’ before wedging your fingertips carefully beneath the cardboard lip and lifting it, seeing 5 sets before you that was perfectly accustomed to your taste.
You remember your trip to the city with Rafe, it was business of course — but you were happy to tag along and walk alongside him watching him handle things for you and his family. You’d spotted the fancy lingerie store, practically pressing yourself up against the glass of the window as you look inside rambling about how you had so many of the sets saved to your Pinterest, pointing out each with your finger smushed to the glass. Rafe nodded distractedly, phone pressed to his ear, leaning on his hip in his gridded shirt and khaki pants that fit too good, before gesturing to you with his thumb that the two of you needed to get moving again, or else you’d be late to the appointment with a buyer. You pout and peel yourself away from the store.
But that was like what, September? Did he go back and buy it all for you? Order it once he’d returned home with you? You’d know Rafe to hold a grudge, but didn’t know his memory served in a positive manner too. “Rafe…” You coo, plucking out the sets and holding them up to admire the intricate lace detailing, spotting matching garters and whatever else you’d mentioned laying in the box. The thought of him fumbling through your underwear drawer trying to figure out your bra size made you giggle, wrapping an arm around his neck in an appreciative squeeze.
“How’d you remember?” Your voice was high in awe, wanting to hold on to this sweet side of Rafe forever.
“Please, I pay attention sometimes y’know.” He smirks modestly, eyes on the box as he admires his work. “So you like it? Yeah?” His hands finding your hips and giving them a soft squeeze.
“Love it, Rafey.” It comes out muffled, because you’re busying yourself with pressing big wet kisses to his cheek, and then eventually his mouth. He pulls away a fraction, lips still brushing yours and eyes cracking open.
“Gonna try it all on for me though, right?” He drawls in that classic Rafe way that you can never say no to and you nod so vigorously you nearly headbutt him. He pats your butt with a pleased hum and pecks you once more. “Atta girl.”
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Sunshine
Synopsis: You are the youngest and only daughter of the Leclerc family, and no matter how much he tries to hide it, Charles can’t deny you’re his favorite
monegasque female leclerc reader x brother charles leclerc
A/N: let’s say that y/n was born in 2006, making her about 17 now, 15 years younnger younger than lorenzo, 9 years younger than charles, and 6 younger than arthur
. so
. pascale leclerc has always wanted a daughter
. a little girl she could love and spoil with all her heart
. don’t get me wrong, she loves her sons with all of her being
. but i’d be lying if i said she’s never wished for another girl in the house
. the rest of the leclercs know this
. so it wasn’t a big suprise when she told everyone that she was pregnant in 2005
. and nearly cried of happiness when she learned she was carrying a baby girl
. now at first
. 8 year old charles leclerc didn’t know how he felt about this
. because he already has 5 year old arthur following him around everywhere
. what would it be like with another sibling in the house?
. so he wasn’t entirely thrilled at first
. but the second pascale and herve brought you home from the hospital a few months later
. he knew he’d love you no matter what
. his friends at school constantly talk about how annoying their baby sisters are
. but charles is always more endeared with you rather than annoyed
. he would play and watch kid shows with you for days on end if that’s what you wanted
. would be lying if he said he’s never played pretend with you
. repeatedly asked for pascale to allow you to come to his karting races
. something that didn’t happen until you were 3
. shows you off to all of his friends at said races
. “you see that baby over there with my maman? that’s my sister, y/n”
. “she doesn’t really know what’s going on, but she always cheers for me anyway”
. charles makes sure he’s there for every milestone in your life
. first day of school
. the first time you drove a kart
. when you learned how to ride a bike
. etcetera
. it does get harder as the years go on, with his karting career continuing and everything
. but your brother makes sure he’s there for you
. because no matter how busy he gets
. he’s never too occupied to see you discover yourself
. finding your own personality and hobbies
. interests and dislikes
. this has all happened by the time you’re 9 years old
. nearing the end of your childhood but still enjoying it nonethless
. pascale even lets you follow charles to formula 1 races, because she knows he’s really following jules bianchi
. your older brother loves when you come with him to races
. but he wishes more than anything your mother made you stay home with her instead of going to suzuka with him
. because he knows you love jules
. he’s like another brother to you
. he’s always the one to have you sitting on top of his shoulders, doing anything to help you see more than the world you were given (both literally and figuratively)
. jules was the one who gave you his kart to practice with
. the one that taught you everything you know about cars
. the one that taught you to always dream for more
. the one that taught you what grief felt like
. charles remembers the moment it happened, the crash, the noise, the shock
. the way you looked up at him, your 9 year old self not old enough to realize what just happened
. “charlie, what happened? where’s jules?”
. he remembers how much you cried in the hospital, looking way too young to be sitting in those waiting room chairs and losing one of the people you loved the most
. he remembers hearing you sob in your room when you got home, how helpless he felt that he couldn’t do anything to stop his own emotions, nonetheless his baby sisters’
. he remembers how instead of driving the kart jules left you, most of the time you just sat in front of it, staring at it, wishing jules would come outside like he always would, and persuade pascale to let you two drive around for just a few more hours
. arthur was the one who looked out for you in these times, because charles was too busy either being looked after by lorenzo, or trying to drive his own feelings away in formula championships
. 2015 was a sorrowful year in the leclerc household
. so it makes sense that charles is happy when you start to show some progress in late 2016
. when you start to drive your kart again, improved by the JB17 stickers you start to put everywhere
. you start enjoying school again, hanging out with your friends and playing outside
. it almost gives him hope
. almost
. because by 2017, charles is nervous
. because herve is getting worse
. and charles knows his litter sister, you’re not stupid
. you can tell that your father is sick, and he’s not going to be get better
. he tries to subtly encourage you to spend more time with him
. makes sure you tell him all your stories from school, tell him what you want to be when you’re older and what you want to do
. soon enough though, you can’t do these things because your father was emitted into the hospital
. charles is nearly twenty now, he’s old enough for his mother to give him the truth about these sorts of things
. but still not old enough to tell his eleven year old sister the truth
. the whole family is there with herve in the hospital in june 2017
. none of them are ready to lose another one of their own again
. you’re sobbing, arthur’s arms wrapped around you and hand pushing your head into his neck because he know you shouldn’t have to see this
. lorenzo is the only thing keeping both his mother and first younger brother standing, all while trying to keep his own tears from blurring his vision
. this time, you don’t let anybody help you
. you never leave your room, only to go to school and to eat
. you stopped karting completely, not wanting to unless your father was standing on the front porch, cheering you on and giving advice from where he stood
. you don’t come to either arthur’s or charles’ races, not the one charles wins after herve dies, not the ones he continues to win after that
. the family almost forgets what your smile looks like, they only remember the faint sound of your cries at night
. charles beats himself up over it, feels guilty and helpless
. he couldn’t stop jules from crashing, couldn’t stop his father from getting sick, and can’t even protect his younger sister from losing herself
. he tries his hardest to be there for you, to hug you, tell you he loves you, and that he’s always there if you want to talk
. he waits as long as it takes for you to open up to him
. it comes eventually, the day you knock on his bedroom door and let yourself talk and cry in his arms
. it takes much longer for you to co-exist with your grief this time
. but charles is there for every step of the way
. you go to his first formula 1 race with him in 2018, cheer him on from the sauber garage with lorenzo and pascale no matter what position he comes in
. you hang out with arthur while he’s racing in formula e and formula 4, cheer for him just as loudly, if not louder than you would for charles
. you’re 12 by the time 2018 ends, but feel much older than you actually are
. this is the point where you and charles bond on a deeper level
. because whereas the rest of the world just sees you as a tweleve-year-old girl
. charles see you as a twelve-year-old girl who’s been through more than she should’ve, and now feels the emotions to match
. so as time continues to pass, you guys talk about the real stuff in your lives
. he talks about joining ferrari and what it feels like to do what jules had always wanted to
. what it felt like lying to your father about the ferrari contract and how he wonders what herve thinks about it now
. you talk about what it feels like going through life without a father
. what it feels like fearing for your brothers’ lives every time they get into their cars
. he tries to help you get over this fear by bringing you to the paddock with him
. which includes becoming friends with andrea after all the hours you two spend side by side in the ferrari garage
. meeting sebastian who instantly becomes a mentor to you
. you’ve known pierre for longer than you can remember, so you hang out in his team garage sometimes
. your brother tries to keep an eye on you while your in the paddock, but as you get older, the more freedom you have
. by the time you’re 15 in 2021, you roam around the paddock on your own free will
. with carlos joining ferrari, you hang out with his younger sister ana, who leads you on all sorts of adventures in whatever city you two are in that weekend
. meeting all sorts of celebrities while you’re walking down the pit lane on sundays
. spending time in the aston martin hospitality because you’re still close with seb
. passing time with lewis in the mercedes garage, he sheds some of his wisdom on you, you tell him all the drama in your life
. bothering pierre while simultaneously befriending yuki in the alpha tauri garage
. and of course, hanging out with charles in the rare moments when you both have nothing do to
. these are the antics that carry on throughout your late teenage years
. so by the time the end of 2023 rolls around, you’re close to graduating school and moving on to whatever you wish to pursue
. it’s in those moments, the ones where you’re talking about college and moving away and your career
. truly makes him realize that you’re growing up
. and you’re not the little girl that will always be there to cheer him on from the stands
. you assure him that you will though
. that wherever you end up, still in monaco or not
. you’ll always be rooting for him
. and he knows he’ll always be rooting for you too
. because you’re his little sister
. and he loves you more than you know
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ynscrazylife · 7 months
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THE BAT IN THE SHADOWS 🦇🕸️
— CHAPTER TWO
Summary: Bruce Wayne is the happiest he’s ever been in a while. He has a beautiful wife, amazing children, and is stopping crime left and right as Batman. All that shatters when you, his wife, mysteriously disappears.
Pairings: Bruce Wayne x Wife!Reader, Batfamily x Batman!Reader, Avengers x Reader (Platonic)
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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Having to wait until morning to pull the security cam footage from nearby stores was hell. In the meantime, Bruce filled out a missing persons report (and nearly broke down whilst doing it). The worst part of it all was having to come home, alone, and face his family.
His kids and Alfred were exactly where he left them, all in the living room.
“Where’s Mom?” Dick was the first to ask, arms crossed. Neither he nor his brothers could hide the worry flickering across his face. Not even Alfred, who was usually so composed.
“I believe,” Bruce began, wanting to be strong for them. The image of your smiling face flashed in his mind and he slammed his hand against the nearby wall to steady himself. Get it together, he told himself. The weight of your shattered phone in his pocket felt like tons of bricks. “She’s been taken.”
He hated that that was all he could say on it. That was all he knew. He hated that he had to say it at all.
Five rounds of “What?!” echoed around the room. Bruce forced himself to look at Dick, Jason, Tim, and Damian. At their pain. Their shock.
“I only found her phone, broken. But we will bring her home,” Bruce said, knowing that there was no keeping his children out of this investigation. “I will take the lead. I’m going to go downstairs and start working. Anyone is free to join me, but I’d also suggest trying to sleep. If you can.”
He started towards the stairs. Then, half-way there, he stopped and turned around, opening up his arms. It took a second, but the boys came to him, and Bruce tucked them in his arms with a strong, tight hug. Alfred watched for a moment, then walked around and put his hand on Bruce’s shoulder.
“We will find her,” Bruce vowed.
And, he thought, if you were harmed in anyway, if a single hair was out of place, he’d destroy whoever had enough nerve to do this.
//
Standing by Commissioner Gordon’s side, Bruce peered over the employee sitting at his desk, who was starting up the footage on his computer. They found the closest store to the spot where your phone was found and as soon as the sign switched from closed to open, they walked in.
“Here you go,” the employee murmured, pressing play.
The footage was grainy and dark but with narrowed eyes, Bruce was determined to take in all that he could. As soon as you walked into frame, Bruce couldn’t help but tense up, nervous about what they were going to see.
Your pace started slowing as you took out your phone. Then, a jolt of electricity — where it was coming from was off-screen — hit your in the back. Bruce fixed his jaw, trying not to lash out or yell or even cry as he saw you fall. The thought of you, limp on the hard, dirty sidewalk . . .
Then, two figures came into frame, lean builds and wearing all black. Bruce watched how one stomped on your phone screen and he took a breath. They were saying something to each other, but the footage didn’t have audio. It was impossible to make out. He curled his fingers into a fist when they each took one of your arms, starting to drag you away. They didn’t seem to care at all that your head was bouncing off the ground and Bruce wanted to smash the screen.
He’d make them fucking pay, that was for sure.
Gordon did the talking, thanking the employee and whatnot. Bruce was in a daze, the footage playing over and over again in his head. He hadn’t even realized that Gordon wrapped up the conversation until he was pulled outside. They went a few stores down, trying to find more security camera footage of where they took you.
When they did, Gordon and Bruce watched as the kidnappers haphazardly tossed you into the car. As if you were nothing. As if you weren’t the most precious thing in Bruce’s life. He made fists again. They drove away and the one good thing was that the footage captured the license plate.
Gordon drove them to the police station and Bruce practically forced him to speed. A goddamn license plate, that was their only clue. Bruce’s only hope. He was pacing back and forth while the police actually ran the plate, never staying still for even a millisecond.
Finally, Gordon emerged. “They must’ve stolen the car. We’ll start sending patrol units out, contact other local departments . . . We will find this car. We’ll find them,” he said confidently.
//
While patrol units drove all around the city and beyond, Bruce did the same in his Batmobile. He spent every minute of every hour on the road, only returning for food and a couple hours of sleep after numerous calls from Alfred. It was the second time when he came home that he saw how much this was affecting his children. A wave of guilt hit, he knew that he hadn’t been paying as much attention to them as he should’ve.
You would’ve told Bruce to leave it to your fellow detectives, who were hellbent on getting you home. You would’ve told Bruce that he didn’t have to be Batman. He had to be home. God, you were so good, it sometimes hurt.
Bruce sat with his four boys on the couch, his arms wrapped around them. He updated them on the case, told them everything he knew. Of course, they asked to join him on patrol, but Bruce told them there was no need. He was going to take a few days off to spend with them.
It was after those few days that Bruce received a call from Gordon. They were in the middle of a somber dinner when his phone rang and the vigilante sprang up from his seat, nearly knocking his chair over. Everyone paused their eating.
“Gordon?” Bruce asked. The last few times, Gordon had nothing big to tell him, but Bruce answered his phone the same way every time.
“We got the car. It’s abandoned, but they drove out of the city. Parked near the woods.”
Dick, Tim, Jason, and Damian all wanted to go search with their father, but Alfred assured Bruce that he’d have them finish their dinners. Bruce gave each one of them a kiss on the head and promised to be home at a reasonable hour (which Alfred would hold him to, bless the man) before he rushed off.
It took a little while to get to the coordinates that Gordon sent, but when he did, he found detectives and cops and even civilian-organized search parties. It warmed Bruce’s heart, how much the city adored you. They knew you as Mrs Wayne, the kind and brave detective.
He joined the search as Batman, looking high and low. He got deep into the woods when finally, he found something. A group of costumed people all looking around, some confused, some awed. Bruce could tell they didn’t belong.
“Identify yourself,” he growled, coming out of the shadows and approaching them.
They all turned to him suddenly. No one moved or said anything for a second, until a redheaded woman came forward. She looked to be around your age, maybe a couple years older.
“This is probably going to come as a shock, but please, hear me out,” the woman began.
“I don’t ‘hear’ people out. Identify yourself, now,” Bruce demanded, in no mood for games.
The woman sighed softly. “Fine. You can call me te Black Widow. Back home, I — we — are known as the Avengers. We’re looking for someone named Y/N,” she told him.
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alotofpockets · 2 months
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Highs and lows | Lia Wälti x Sister!Reader
Warnings: Reader is a type 1 diabetic and experiences both hypo- and hyperglycemic events. I hope all the medical talk is right!
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k
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One of the things you loved to do outside of football, was going on walks with some of the girls on your team. When you and your sister Lia made the move to London, you had found a second family in your Arsenal teammates. The friendships you made here went beyond the pitch, and you were forever grateful to have gotten a place amongst them.
Today you were joined by Lia, Steph, Viv, Beth, and Leah. As well as Myle and Calvin, the dogs were both running around the park as the rest of you were talking. 
“Oh hi Myle girl, do you want me to throw the ball?” The dog had dropped the tennis ball into your lap, so you got up to play with her. You made a quick stop to grab your water bottle before you ran back to the dogs. Myle had so much energy, so she kept running up and down the field, while Calvin stayed closer to your side. You throw the ball for Myle again, but your vision goes blurry right after. You knew the feeling all too well, and sat down slowly. Calvin moved closer to you and started barking. Steph looked up at the sudden loudness from her dog, who usually is rather quiet, and notices you on the grass. 
“Hey Lia”, Steph didn’t even have to finish her sentence, the tone of her voice told Lia enough, she looked over to you and rushed to your side when she saw you were on the ground.
“I'm here.” She reaches for your hand, while reaching for her phone with the other. She taps the device to the patch on your arm, letting it read your glucose levels. You had been diagnosed with diabetes type 1 when you were a kid, so the symptoms were very familiar to your sister, and to the team now as well. “It’s low.” By now she didn't even have to tell you what she was going to do, as she was with you for a lot of your highs and lows. She grabs a juice box out of her bag, and tells you to drink up.
“Here, lean into me.” You heard Leah's voice behind you. Her hands on your shoulders guided you into her. The girls knew that there was nothing they could do for you, and that they would just have to wait for your glucose levels to get back up, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't try to make it as comfortable for you as possible. 
Slowly but surely you started feeling better, the blurred vision faded, and you felt a little stronger again. While you had gotten used to the hypo- and hyperglycemic events, they were still a little scary to experience, because you'd never know when one would be more severe.
“Come on, let's get you home.” Lia extends her hands to you, after you let her know you were ready to get up. Once you were up, she hugged you tight, always a little scared of the events herself. 
“Why don't you come to our place?” Beth offers, “We live closer, you can rest there.” You agreed instantly, the less you had to walk right now the better. Back at Beth and Viv’s place you find yourself slowly drifting to sleep cuddled into Viv’s side, with Myle on your chest. 
You’re woken up by the smell of one of your favourite dishes lingering in the air. “Hey, how are you feeling?” Viv asks when she notices that you were awake again. “Good enough for that delicious meal Lia is cooking up.” The girl you’re still laying against chuckles, “Ah good, you’re back.”
You looked around the room to find Leah, Steph, and Calvin had left the home, while Lia was in the kitchen with Beth. Though, you knew your sister did all the cooking, because Viv always loved to tell you how bad of a chef Beth really was. You got up and joined the rest for dinner.
The next few days your blood sugar levels didn’t have any major spikes, there was the occasional high and low, but nothing that wasn’t quickly fixed. 
On game day you were rushing out of the house, cause you forgot to put your alarm. You rolled out of bed, hopped in the shower, and quickly changed into your match day outfit, before you headed to your car. 
You knew it was stupid to skip meals, because it would most likely influence your blood sugar levels later on, but right now the only thought on your mind was getting to the stadium on time. Which luckily you managed to do, you headed into the locker room where everyone was about ready to start warming up. After quickly putting on your cleats, and your training kit, you followed the team out.
“Everything alright?” Your sister asked as she put her arm on your shoulder to warm up her legs. You nod, “I overslept. Forgot to set my alarm, but I’m all good.” You continue warming up together, before running some drills with the rest of the girls. 
On the pitch everything was going great until it wasn’t. You felt very shaky, and were sweating more than during a regular game. Trying to push the feelings aside only worked for a few minutes, with one tackle you were on the ground, and your body fully gave into the high blood sugar. Both Lia and the medics came rushing your way.
“You need to check her glucose levels.” Your sister instructed. The medic already had a phone in their hand to tap it to your patch. “We’ve got her Lia, don’t worry.” The phone quickly gave the glucose levels, and showed they were very high. 
“I’m going to give you an insuline shot, to get your levels down quickly.” You simply nodded, not caring how they would lower your blood sugar, as long as you would stop feeling this way. After the shot, your body started slowly feeling stronger again. The medics walked you off the field, and sat you down on the bench. Steph sat down next to you, and you leaned into her side. She took the bag of nuts the medical assistant handed over, and opened the bag for you. 
When the halftime whistle blew you headed into the locker room, while Steph went to warm up with the rest of the bench. 
“What happened?” Your sister’s worried voice rang out the moment you sat down. She didn’t even let you answer the first question, before she continued. “Why didn’t you say something sooner? You know how bad it can get if you don’t treat your highs and lows on time.” 
“Since I was in a hurry this morning I kind of forgot to have breakfast. I swear I was going to eat something when I got here, but you were all ready to warm up, so I forgot in the rush again.” You knew that skipping meals wasn’t good for your glucose levels, and you really didn’t do it on purpose, and you needed Lia to know that. “I should’ve said it sooner, but it was almost half time. I thought I would be alright until then.”
Lia uncrossed her arms, and the angry facade fell. “Please don’t ever scare me like that again!” She sat down and put her arm around you, happy to know that you were alright again. You listened to Kim and Leah discuss the tactics for the second half of the game, and made your way back to the bench when it was time to head back again. 
The team ended up winning the match. After the second half you felt a lot better again, so you walked the victory round next to your sister, who was happy to have you properly on your feet again.
-----
💗 If you enjoyed this fic, please consider liking, commenting, and reblogging! You can also supporting me by leaving a tip 💗
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Seventeen when they realise they’re in love with you
Seventeen Masterlist
Im open to fic requests!
Genre: Fluff!
→ Choi Seungcheol
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“She doesn’t bite, I promise” Cheol reassures.
Cheol brings his dog over to meet you. You were terrified of dogs, but you tried for him.
Cheol somehow got you to touch kkumas head and also feed her some chopped carrots. Kkuma really liked you and wanted to play with you. She kept jumping to your lap, but you tried your best not to make sudden movements or shriek and scare the poor dog.
You thought dogs were cute, but only from afar.
You trying to overcome this fear and interact with someone so precious to him, really made him seoon over you. He definitely fell for you that day.
→Yoon Jeonghan
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He had called you over while he babysat one of his nieces. You’ve always liked kids so it was no big deal. But the only big deal was meeting his family. You’ve been together now for a month and meeting family was a huge deal.
His niece at first felt a little awkward and standoffish but soon warmed up to you when you presented her with some candy you picked up for her.
Jeonghan loved the fact that you got along with his family. He also starting feeling love for you that day that only deepened there after.
→ Hong Jisoo
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“Tell me what you want from me Joshua?” You yell at him, tears pooling your eyes.
What did he want? He wasn’t ready to be in a relationship, but seeing you talk to that guy from uni also did something to him. Lately he felt as if he was running away from something, he finally figured out what it was. As you stood there, tears falling out of your eyes. He loved you, it hit him like a bag of bricks when he saw you threaten leaving the apartment without resolving whatever this was. He was scared to admit to himself, but now he had to say it out loud. For him to hear, for you, to hear.
He knew if he let you walk out that door, you’ll be gone forever.
“I’m in love with you”
→ Moon Jun hui
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Jun had the worst day at work today, everything that could go wrong, went wrong: the paper machine had no paper, his sandwich for lunch became soggy, it started to rain when he went out to get some lunch instead, his important presentation fell through. Nothing was right.
“Are you okay?” You ask him, as you both take a walk. Seeing him stressed, you suggested a walk outside to get some fresh air.
He doesn’t respond to the question, so you just take his hand in both of yours, softly caressing it with your thumb as you both walk, you hoped that was enough.
He turned to look at you and your eyes met. Jun always thought it was superficial when people said ‘all my worries fade away when I’m with you’ but he finally understood exactly what that was like. All his cynicism disappeared because it worked. One look at you and he was smiling.
Regardless of what happens in the day, you were someone that melt his problems. He realised this is what love is.
→Kwon Soonyoung
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“I’m going to make this work” you say frustrated, almost pulling your hair out.
Soonyoung was in your studio helping you figure out some beats for your new song and it was going to hell. Every tune you came up with sounded so eeriely similar to something you’ve already heard before. You’d rather jump off a cliff than accidentally put yourself through accusations of plagiarism.
Another groan while you play around with the keys. This went on all night where to a point soonyoung fell asleep on the couch behind you but you were still making the song.
“I did it!”
This woke him up and you looked so happy and accomplished that you had finally cracked it. You let him have a listen to see if it sounds familiar somehow, but it didn’t.
Soonyoung had heard many friends say that people look the most attractive when they’re working and they were right.
Your happiness was contagious and he was absolutely adoring you.
He fell in love with your happiness immediately.
→ Jeon Wonwoo
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Like every time, this time too, wonwoo left for home after spending the whole weekend at yours. He lived two towns away so it was an hour of a drive to see each other. You made it all worth it.
This time, while leaving it didn’t feel like usual. His chest felt a lot heavier when he thought about not seeing you for another week.
This time, his throat closed up every time he wanted to say goodbye. Perhaps he had finally gotten used to saying goodbye until a new feeling came in and knocked the air out of his lungs and glued his feet to your apartment.
“I think I love you”
→ Lee Jihoon
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You were snoring in the living room on your architecture table as he helped you into bed.
You’ve been working on this project for days, staying up all night. Jihoon is someone that works really hard and also holds a lot of respect for people who are passionate about their contribution to the world. He looks up to people who are diligent and dedicated.
That night, he had a lot of respect for you but also a lot of adoration. He was falling in love with your sincerity, slowly and surely.
→Seo Myungho
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“I hope we get to see sea turtles later” you say to Hao.
Hao has always been attracted to empathy. When he suggested that you should go on a date to the beach with a clean up drive, he didnt expect you to say yes as fast as you did.
He has always found this empathy in you for nature, and preserving nature, very attractive. The fact that this was your common ground only deepened your relationship further.
He was head over heels for you when you agreed to pick garbage with him at the beach.
→Kim Mingyu
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Kim Mingyu took you to the arcade for your 6th date, yes, you were counting, because he felt like a dream, you really saw this going somewhere.
The arcade was one of the cutest date things to do on paper, but you never got to actually experience it. You ended up trying all the machines there were. But the dance machine is something you were waiting for.
You had your concentration face on and you were really to destroy this machine. Mingyu was always carefree and very giggly type. His giggles made you giggle too.
You ended up challenging him to a dance off and went at it for a good 3 minutes. But all you could see was Mingyu half way through stopping and chuckling at your face. You raise an eyebrow.
“You’re so easy to love”
→Lee Seokmin
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Dokyeom falls in love with the littlest of things, they then add on to become a huge pile of love and an overwhelming sense of adoration and affection.
You and him were walking in the city on a road that goes uphill. You had spotted an old lady with her hands full of 2 huge bags, barely able to climb uphill. You immediately rush to her and offer help. Dokyeom was puzzled to see you run, until he realised what you were doing. He had a big smile plastered on his face while he comes over to help as well.
Dokyeom enjoyed helping people, he drew joy from it and so did you. This instance was another drop in the ocean for him to fall more and more in love with you.
→Boo Seungkwan
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Boo Seungkwan was an athlete by heart. He absolutely loves breaking a sweat playing all the sport he can.
Him and you started dating a couple of weeks ago and promised each other you’d have a go at his favourite sport badminton, which he boasted he was good at. You were an average badminton player, you enjoyed squash more.
The match started off slow, you were both testing waters. The match slowly gog to a point where it was just sounds of the racket hitting the shuttle, no giggles, no teasing. Neither of you like to lose.
You finally hit a smash that he could not reach. He was awestruck. Usually, he hates losing, but this time, he lost focus, all his focus was on how amazing the match was and how amazing you were.
Now if thats you or your badminton playing skills that he fell in love with is something you are yet to figure out.
→Choi Vernon
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Usually Vernon is quite non chalant,doing his own thing, minding his own business. You and him have been speaking to each other for a month now.
And everything feels different to him. Every time Vernon sees something very interesting immediately thinks of you and to bring you to show it to you, all his thoughts about the future have you in it. He’s thinking about you all the time.
He was walking by a bakery and he thought about who this one time you told him you hated the smell of bread.
His brain was a 90% you and thats when it clicked. He was in love.
→Lee Chan
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Your boyfriend had called you saying he didn’t feel very well and cancelled your date. You ended up going to his apartment instead.
You tended to him, he was running a fever and even made him some soup to feel better and stayed with him if he needs anything. As a boy, he had moved away from home early and never really had someone that cared for him like this.
This was the first time in years he felt cared for and he was so grateful to you, that feeling of gratefulness soon turned into feelings of love before the fever broke.
——
Tried a different style, hope y’all like it!j I’m open to fic requests!
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joelscruff · 1 year
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feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART TWO
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You can read part one here. i'm so grateful for the positive response for this on the first chapter, thank you so much for sharing your thoughts!! Things are already getting smutty, enjoy 💕 and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip. summary: you're back from college for the summer, staying with your devout catholic parents in your childhood home while they order you around and try to keep authority over you. as an act of rebellion you ask your new neighbor mr. miller to teach you how to play guitar, but it turns out there's a lot more he wants to teach you. (no outbreak, no use of y/n) rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, dirty old man joel, corruption (but it's consensual), praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader's family are very catholic), fingering, masturbation word count: 8.1k ao3
You're relieved the next morning when you look out your bedroom window and see your father's police car and your mother's SUV missing from the driveway. They've both already left for work, which means no twenty questions to answer when you go downstairs, no grilling you about what exactly you're going to be doing today. But it's not like you'd tell them the truth anyway.
You pick your outfit very carefully, shoving modest sweaters and long dresses aside as you search for something specific for Mr. Miller. You want him to look at you again like he did yesterday; the thought makes your thighs clench together again as you dig through the depths of your closet. You settle on an old Sunday School dress that you probably haven't worn since you had your final growth spurt, baby blue and simple. You undress and tug it over yourself, trying to ignore the way it tightens uncomfortably around your chest; it's much too small but you're running out of options.
"That's sexy, right?" you ask your silent bedroom, peering in the mirror at yourself. You were much shorter when you wore the dress last; now the hem settles on your upper thighs, leaving your legs completely exposed. It hugs your curves and accentuates your breasts, cleavage pushed up against the neckline so much that it feels like they could pop out at any moment.
You pick up a discarded pink hoodie and zip it on over the dress, hiding where you're practically bulging out of the material. Maybe you'll take it off later, but for now you don't need any of your neighbors reporting to your parents that they saw you walking down the street half naked.
You spend way too long getting ready, changing things about your hair and makeup over and over until you know you can't put off leaving anymore. You grab a quick bowl of cereal and then, with a resigned look of determination, you swap your flip flops with sneakers and head out into the hot summer day.
Not too many people are outside yet; parents have already left for work, kids are still sleeping, dogs have already been walked. You make it to Mr. Miller's without having to say an awkward hello to anybody, for which you're grateful.
He's not sitting on the step when you get there and for some reason it stops you in your tracks, leaving you standing at the end of his walkway like you had yesterday.
What if he's at work, you dumbass?
You hadn't factored in the possibility that he wouldn't be home. You'd had this ridiculous notion that maybe he'd be waiting for you, watching both sides of the street until you appeared and batted your eyelashes and asked him if you could still take him up on his offer. You'd visualized the whole thing. Like a teenager.
Just knock. Just knock and if he's not there, go home and try again later.
You still haven't moved from the end of his walk when the front door suddenly opens. Your eyes widen in surprise as he appears on his front step in all his disheveled glory, putting his hand across his face to block the sun; he's barefoot, wearing jeans and a t-shirt with a band you don't recognize on the front, and his hair is sticking up in different directions like he's just woken up. He brings a blue coffee mug up to his lips and takes a sip, eyes on you when he brings it back down, giving you a wry smile.
"Good mornin', babygirl," he says with that deep and slightly rough voice, leaning against the door frame, "Was hopin' you'd come back."
You blink a few times, brain whirring and stuttering helplessly as you stare at him. He's so handsome, so much older and rugged and sexy. You feel your panties get wet again and you can't even be mad at yourself; you're too distracted by the gorgeous man in front of you, looking directly at you, calling you babygirl. He's probably older than your father and yet you can't find a single bone in your body that cares in the slightest.
"Hi." you say softly, almost a squeak.
He smiles a bit wider, "Changed your mind, huh?"
You nod quickly, not knowing what else to say. He glances down at your dress and without thinking you shakily grab the zipper on your hoodie, tugging it down and showing him the full thing. You watch with bated breath as his eyes trail to your chest, looking openly and unapologetically at your breasts. He chuckles to himself and looks at your face again, taking another sip of coffee.
"I was hoping... um..." you bite your lip, trying to find the words, "I, uh-"
"Just come on in, darlin'," he interjects, laughing lightly again, "Don't hurt yourself." He moves back from the door a bit, gesturing for you to come inside.
You don't need telling twice. You put your head down, trying not to show him how nervous you are as you walk up his patio steps and slide past him into his house. You can practically hear your parents' voices in your head: "Don't talk to strangers. Don't go into a stranger's house." You're rebelling in more ways than one today.
"That's a pretty dress," he says behind you once you're inside, and you hear him shut the door. No going back now.
"Thank you." you turn to look at him, feeling out of place standing in the house of a man you don't know. You're just in time to see him looking at your body again and your skin heats once more.
"What's your name, sweetheart?" he asks with a crooked smile, charming and natural. You tell him and he just smiles wider, tilts his head to the side, "That's pretty."
"Thank you," you say again, "Um, what's yours?"
"I'm Joel," he puts his hand out for you to take, "Joel Miller. Surprised you didn't ask your momma about me."
You take it and feel your knees go slightly weak at his firm grip, big hand dwarfing yours in size, "I - uh, I did. But she just called you Mr. Miller."
He smirks at that, squeezing your hand in his, "You wanna call me Mr. Miller too? You can."
"Um," you're not sure what to say, biting down on your lip again and feeling flustered when he doesn't release your hand, "Uh..."
"You're a shy one, aren't you?" he asks, voice going a bit soft, soothing, "It's alright, darlin'. I don't mean to make you nervous."
"I'm not." you say it too quickly and you both know it's bullshit. He drops your hand and you turn your attention to the room in front of you, an open concept living space with a kitchen on the opposite side; it's nice, although you're surprised someone is living alone in such a big house.
"So do you, uh...do you have a wife?" you figure you should probably get that out of the way first; you're already planning on sinning in one way today, you don't need to add adultery to the list.
"No, just me." he walks past you and gestures for you to follow him. You do, walking to the kitchen and watching him take a glass down from the cupboard and start filling it with water. You stand there awkwardly, smoothing your dress down a bit and looking around the room.
You're so fucking nervous. You don't even know what he's got on his mind, let alone whether or not you're ready to do it. You imagine he'll lead you up to his bedroom, maybe turn the lights off and close the curtains...light a candle? Put on some music? You hope he'll be gentle and slow, that he'll listen to you. You know from your college friends that most men your age aren't really good at setting the mood, knowing how to do things the right way. Maybe because Mr. Miller - Joel - is older... it'll be better?
"Here, sweetheart, breathe," he hands you the glass of water and you take it with trembling fingers, "You don't need to be scared of me."
"I'm not scared of you," you reiterate, shaking your head and taking a sip.
"Right. Just like you weren't scared yesterday?"
You frown and put the water back down on the counter, "I- I wasn't scared."
He chuckles, leaning against the kitchen island and tilting his head again as he looks at you, "Well darlin', I might've gone back in my house but I saw you from the window. You practically sprinted down the street," he smirks at the memory, "Seemed scared to me."
"I wasn't scared. I'm not scared." You're not sure you're telling him or telling yourself.
"You sure? You're all flustered" he murmurs, and suddenly he's reaching up to hold your chin between his fingers, turning your head toward him. Your lips part in surprise, trembling beneath his touch as his thumb strokes gently against your jaw. You feel your face get even hotter.
He smirks at your response, eyes casting up and down your face quickly before he releases your chin and grabs the glass of water from where you'd laid it back down, turning to pour the rest of it down the sink. While his back is turned you fight to regain your composure, willing all the blood to disperse from your face.
"Well, no time like the present," he says, turning back around and walking past you out of the kitchen, "Guitar's in the living room."
You stare after him, brow furrowing in confusion, "What?"
"You still wanna learn that song, don't you?" he calls behind him, picking up his guitar from where it's leaning against the wall. He sits down on the couch and gestures with his neck for you to come over, smug smile still plain as day on his face.
You slowly make your way over to him, heart pounding in your chest. You seat yourself beside him on the couch, close enough that he can show you his guitar but not close enough that you're touching him. You may want him to touch you desperately but that doesn't change the fact that you're still freaking out right now. Because what does he want? You'd genuinely thought he'd meant something different yesterday with that comment about your fingers. He'd been flirting, hadn't he? Or is that just his nature?
"It's a simple chord progression," Mr. Miller - Joel - immediately begins to demonstrate. He strums on the strings, aligning his fingers carefully at the neck of the guitar and angling it in such a way that you can see what he's doing, "We start with an A and then go into G major pretty quickly."
You watch his fingers, long and almost delicate now as he presses his fingertips to the strings, holds them down as he starts to thumb out a tune. Your lips part unconsciously, eyes trained fully on the tender way he caresses the strings, coaxes beautiful sounds out of the guitar with minimal effort.
"Then D," he murmurs, and you notice that his eyes are also directed at his fingers, making sure he's showing you correctly, like he actually cares that he does it right, "And E into F sharp."
It's not like he's speaking another language - you know basic music theory from simply going to school all your life - but you don't fully understand how the notes and chords he's talking about translate into his fingers, into the shapes they make, where they push down. You know nothing about playing guitar and he's only a few moments away from realizing that; you can't help but already feel humiliated. Why the fuck had you lied to him yesterday? What are you even doing here?
"It pretty much repeats like that the whole way through," he says, starting the song over and strumming a bit slower, showing you his chord changes more purposefully, "But as I said yesterday there's lot's of room for some adlibbin' here and there, doesn't have to be by the book."
You feel yourself nod, although you still have no idea what he's talking about. He suddenly stops his movements on the guitar, directing his eyes back to you. You swallow down the nervous lump in your throat once again, willing yourself to look back.
"Wanna give it a try?" he asks, and without waiting for your answer he hands you the guitar. You take it from him with wide eyes, your own hands fitting into place where his had been only seconds ago, still warm; it makes you shiver.
"Um," you look down at the guitar, trying to shape your fingers in a similar way to what he'd done. Your nose scrunches up in concentration and confusion.
"Starts with A," Joel says, and you look up from the guitar to see him smiling softly at you, urging you to play him something.
Your fingers stay frozen on the guitar, tongue darting out to wet your lips. You can feel anxiety burning in the pit of your stomach.
"Okay, now I'm scared," you admit, voice shaky and small.
He doesn't say anything; you look up again and see him peering at you thoughtfully, brow furrowed. You hope he's figuring it out internally so you don't have to say it out loud, admit what a fraud you are.
"...You don't know how to play, do you?" he asks finally.
You bite your lip and hang your head in shame, grip loosening on the guitar, "No. I'm sorry."
To your surprise he laughs, deep and genuine. You lift your head back up to see him settle back in the couch a bit, shaking his head as he grins at you. You can't help but feel yourself smile back at him.
"You're adorable," he says with a sincerity that puts your tummy in knots, your gaze averting his once again, "I mean it, I can't even be mad 'cause you're so sweet, darlin'."
"M'not," you mumble, slightly embarrassed as you hand the guitar back to him and shake your head, "I'm a liar."
He takes it from you, "Why'd you lie? Coulda said you didn't play, I wouldn't have judged you for it."
You shrug, still not looking at him, "I don't know, I..." you sigh, biting your lip, "I wanted... I wanted you to think..." You don't finish but you're pretty sure he understands, aware of him nodding slowly in your peripheral vision.
"You're sweet," he repeats, voice softer this time, "So sweet, babygirl."
You shiver again at the pet name, finally bringing yourself to look at him again. He's still looking at you, dark eyes boring into your skin, lips turned up into that wry smile again.
"C'mere," he says, even softer, and you watch as he open his legs, moves back a bit on the couch and pats the empty spot in front of him. You stare, breath hitching at the realization that he wants you to sit there, "I wanna show you somethin'," he urges, "I won't bite, promise."
With shaky legs you reposition yourself on the couch, getting up and sitting back down between his wide legs. As soon as you're seated he brings the guitar down into your lap and sits up a bit, pushes his chest against your back as his arms wrap around your nervous form, holding the guitar in front of you.
"Watch my fingers," he says quietly, and you find that his voice is speaking directly into your left ear, breath warm and welcome against your skin. You have no choice but to obey, not that you'd even want to make any other choice.
He curves his fingers along the neck of the guitar again, pushing down the strings in a few different places and holding it there. He strums firmly, the back of the guitar pushing lightly into your belly with the tension.
"That's a C chord," he murmurs, strumming again, "See where my fingers are?"
"Yeah," you reply, barely a whisper; your mouth has gone dry.
"You hold your fingers as hard as you can against the strings," he continues, "It hurts at first, when you're learning, but the longer you play the more you build up calluses. You know what calluses are?"
You shake your head, unable to speak, too lost in the warmth of his breath against the nape of your neck, the masculine smell of him tingling your nose. He pulls his hand back from the strings and brings it up near your face, showing you his fingers.
"These are calluses," he explains, referring to the deep grooves embedded in the tips of his fingers, "They help you hold the strings down easier so it doesn't hurt."
You stare at his fingers, getting lost in their length and size, their girth. You feel yourself becoming wet in your underwear, clenching around nothing at the thought of one of those calluses touching you down there where you need it most. Your breath hitches again, thighs rubbing together involuntarily.
"Lemme show you," he murmurs, and to your surprise he suddenly takes your left hand in his and brings it to the neck of the guitar. You watch with bated breath as he carefully positions your fingers over the correct strings, holds them there with his own, "Play that."
With your shaky right hand you thumb the strings at the base of the guitar, a clear chord ringing out into the open room. Your eyebrows raise in surprise and he laughs again, charming and soft.
"There you go," he says softly, "First chord. Good girl."
The words send another pulsating wave of wetness into your underwear and you tremble beneath his touch, feeling your brows furrow in pleasure at the feeling of him being so close to you while you feel like this. Your hips buck up a bit but you feel too good to be embarrassed.
"Somethin' wrong?" he asks you gently, voice still close to your ear, "You're all flustered again, babygirl."
You hum, closing your eyes tight for a moment and trying to breathe, but all you can smell is him. All you can feel is him. You swallow tightly when you feel his touch ghost against your thigh, eyes opening to see him press his palm wide against your bare skin. You watch with parted lips as his thumb strokes the skin just below the hem of your dress, eyes hazy when he pushes himself against you from behind a bit tighter.
"Why'd you really come here, sweetheart?" he breathes, almost a whisper, "Tell me the truth."
You take a deep and shaky breath and feel yourself leaning back into him, eyes closing again as he slowly strokes your thigh, "You know why," you whisper.
He hums in response, nosing your ear gently and breathing you in, left hand still holding yours tightly against the neck of the guitar, "I do," he murmurs. You feel as he presses a wet kiss against your earlobe, beard rough against your skin. Your eyes roll back when he takes it into his mouth, sucks gently on it while he squeezes your thigh.
You're in heaven, completely at his mercy as you fall back further against him between his legs, your own going lax and loose the more he touches you. No one has ever done this to you, put their mouth on any part of you that wasn't your lips, put their hands anywhere near where you're currently aching to be touched. You watch as Joel's fingers inch upwards along your thigh, slipping past the hem of your dress. You already know where he wants to put his fingers next.
"I'm a virgin," you squeak without warning, panic suddenly brewing in your stomach. His hand freezes on your thigh and he pulls back from your ear. Why the fuck did you say that?
Now he'll be a gentleman, he'll take you off his lap and tell you to leave, tell you he can't be the one to take your virginity. You've seen this in movies, read it in books, heard it firsthand from your friends in college. Men don't like the responsibility of being your first, don't like the idea of a girl getting attached to them. And Joel... he's a grown man and you're just a twenty one year old Catholic mess with way too much baggage. There's absolutely no way he'll want to touch you now.
"Let's put this down," he whispers, and carefully helps you move the guitar off your lap and place it to the side. Here it comes, he's gonna tell you to get up and go home. You wait for him to inevitably push you from the couch, awkwardly stand up and lead you to the front door.
But that doesn't happen. Instead, you watch with wide and confused eyes as he suddenly puts both hands on your bare thighs, squeezing them gently beneath his wide palms, "You ever been touched like this, darlin'?" he asks you quietly.
You shake your head, "N-no."
His thumbs stroke your skin softly, tenderly. You feel as he sits up a bit more and tightens his legs around you, holding you in place, "You like the way that feels?"
"Yes," you whisper, soft and secret, "Feels good."
"That's good, it's s'posed to," Joel murmurs, nosing your ear again, "Now let's pull up this pretty dress a little bit," the words send a shock to your system, eyes widening in surprise. He doesn't wait for you to help, just immediately goes for the hem of your dress and hikes it up your legs, exposing more of your bare thighs and a hint of your panties, blue and lacy to match your dress, "Oh, you're just a pretty little thing aren't you?" he breathes, voice hot against your ear, "You really never been touched?"
"Never," you repeat, and he just hums and presses a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, making your breath hitch, "Th-that doesn't bother you?"
"Not at all, sweetheart," he breathes, tightening his grip on your thighs; the feeling of his large palms on your flesh makes you whimper slightly, looking down at where he's holding you and shivering, "Makes me want you more than I already do."
Your pussy is throbbing in your panties and you're sure there must be a stain through your dress, through the couch. You rub your thighs together and whimper again, head falling back against Joel's shoulder. You feel him kiss your hair, watch as his hands slide up your thighs so his fingertips are just slightly touching the edges of your underwear.
"You're all wet, aren't you?" he asks softly, soothingly, "Been sittin' here soaking my couch this whole time, huh? Want me to touch you so bad, don't you, babygirl?"
You hear yourself make a strange noise through your teeth, a hnnng sound that makes him chuckle, "You like that, don't you? You like bein' my babygirl?"
"I do," you whisper.
"That's good," he murmurs, "That's real good, babygirl." His thumbs hook into your panties then, tugging gently, "Now let's take these off," he says, beginning to slide them down, "so I can take a look at this pretty little pussy you've been savin' just for me."
You both watch as your panties slip down your bare legs with ease, dress still hiding your pussy from him entirely. It's impossible not to notice the enormous dark spot in the fabric, glistening in the sunlight. You can't help but feel embarrassed.
"Oh, baby," he groans, fisting them in his hand and thumbing the dark spot tightly, "So wet."
"Why does that happen?" you ask, swallowing around the anxious lump in your throat, knowing you're just advertising your inexperience even more by asking.
"Means you're turned on, sweet girl" he explains, thumb still pressed firmly against the wet spot as he presses another wet kiss to your ear, sloppier this time, "I'm turnin' you on."
"You are," you agree shakily, "It happened last night too, after..."
"After?"
"After I dreamed about you."
He smiles against your skin, dropping the panties to the floor and bringing his hand back down to your thigh; his thumb is wet and sticky against your skin, "You're a naughty little thing, aren't you? Did you touch yourself? Make yourself come thinkin' about me?"
"No," you shake your head, "I haven't... I've never..."
He groans in understanding, but not in an irritated or angry way. It's arousal, you can tell by the way his legs tighten around your trembling form, pulling you in closer. He pulls up the hem of your dress and exposes your wet and aching pussy to the both of you, lips bare and soft against his couch. You hear his breath hitch behind you when it comes into view.
"Fuck," he says, voice low and rough with arousal, "Look at you."
He barely hesitates, reaching down and thumbing your outer lips with both hands, his other fingers splaying against your inner thighs. You squirm at the feeling, brows scrunching together when he gently pinches your soft lips and sucks your earlobe back into his mouth.
"So soft, babygirl," he whispers, releasing it with a wet pop, "Look at that." You don't think he's actually telling you to look, more-so talking to himself as he caresses the outer part of your pussy gently, "So pretty."
"I-um... I shaved it," you whisper, "Just in case."
"Babygirl, you didn't need to do that," he noses your ear and you feel his breath, hot and sticky against your skin, "Woulda been pretty either way."
You feel your cheeks warm, "My roommates said most guys don't like-"
"Am I most guys?" he whispers, and continues to stroke your pussy lips up and down with his thumbs, "You know how old I am, babygirl?"
"N-no." His touch is becoming too much, too distracting. It feels good to have him touching you like this but it's still not where you need him to touch you, the slick part inside that's absolutely aching for his fingers feeling desperately wetter.
"Why don't you take a guess, see how accurate you are."
"Um," you barely understand what he's even talking about, eyes trained on where he's stroking you, "F-fourty?"
He laughs immediately, "Now we both know that's not your real guess, sweetheart."
You bite your lip, watching his thumbs, "Well... I don't wanna... I don't wanna hurt your feelings."
He smiles, "You're sweet. But I don't care, darlin', gimme your real guess."
You sigh shakily, "Fifty."
"Close," he breathes, and you watch with a whimper as he begins to drag his thumbs up and down your wet slit, lips too puffy to show him what's beyond, "That's real close, bit higher."
Higher? Fuck.
"Fifty...three?"
He dips the tip of his thumbs ever so slightly inside your slit, then brings them out again and pushes your own wetness across your outer lips, making your skin glisten, "Higher."
"F-fifty five?"
"Fifty six," he finally says, still thumbing your juices all along your pussy. You're not sure how to respond, surprised by the number but also desperately turned on, waiting for him to finally slip inside where you're begging him to touch, "That make you uncomfortable?" he asks after a moment of silence, and you swear you hear a bit of hesitance in his question as his hands freeze, waiting for you to reply before he goes any further.
"No," you reply, shaking your head slowly, thoughtfully, "It doesn't."
"You're sure?" he asks quietly, and you can hear the sincerity in his voice, "Because I can stop, sweetheart. Just say the word, I'll let you go home."
You shake your head again, more frantically this time at the thought of him releasing you from his embrace, "I promise, Mr. Miller," you whisper, then quickly correct yourself, "Joel."
"You can call me Mr. Miller, babygirl," he whispers, and you watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pulls your swollen lips apart, exposing the innermost parts of yourself to his living room. Your mouth pops open in surprise, eyes widening at how wet and sticky you are, a big drop of your own wetness pushing past your aching hole and dribbling out onto his hand.
"Gonna take care of this perfect untouched pussy, I swear," he groans, rough and low in your ear, pinching your outer lips again as his gaze bores into your sopping cunt, "Gonna make her feel so good."
--
With wobbly legs Joel had helped you up from the couch, chuckling when you'd tripped up almost immediately. With sure and steady hands he'd straightened you up, carefully removed your hoodie and discarded it on the couch, "Won't need this," he'd said softly, "Let's go get in my bed, sweetheart."
Now he holds you on the edge of his bed, inside a bedroom that feels cozy and masculine, that smells like him. His bed wasn't made when he'd lead you inside but other than that he has a clean bedroom, small and comfortable. He now has you sitting in his lap with your legs wide, hooked over his own while you both face the full length mirror on the wall.
"W-what are we doing?" you ask breathlessly, feeling slightly embarrassed at your reflection in the mirror. Your cheeks are still hot, hair messy and dress falling off, positively debauched and certainly no longer the good little Catholic girl your parents raised. You watch as Joel fingers the hem of your dress again and slowly pulls it up, exposing your dripping pussy to the mirror and to the both of you.
"Wanna show you what I'm doing," Joel murmurs, coaxing your legs even wider and pulling apart your swollen lips once again, showing you the untouched part of yourself you've never seen before, "How else are you gonna learn if you can't see, babygirl?"
You nod slowly, watching as he spreads you wide. You bring your eyes up to his face in the mirror to see the way he's watching you. His eyes are dark and lustful, hair still tousled from the early morning, scruff thick and scratchy against your neck and shoulder. He follows your gaze and peers into your eyes in the mirror, pulls you wider; you squirm a bit and close your eyes, feeling slightly embarrassed at the sight.
"You're shy, arent you?" he whispers, a smile in his voice.
"I've just... I've never..." you shake your head, opening your eyes again to turn and look at him, forgetting about the mirror for a moment, "No one's ever looked at me like this before."
He smiles softly at you, somehow tender and fond despite the part of him that clearly wants to devour you, corrupt you. He takes one hand and brings it to your chin, tilts your face up to his and presses a sweet kiss to your lips, gentle and soft. You kiss him back, eyes closing as you slowly breathe him in, feel his beard rub tantalizingly against your cheek.
"You've done that before, haven't you?" he asks you once he pulls away, finger still on your chin as he looks deep into your eyes, "You've been kissed?"
You nod but bite your lip, "Yes, but...not like that."
He tilts his head, "Like what?"
"Like they really want me," you whisper, eyes falling to his lips and silently wishing he'll do it again, "Like they're not holding back."
Almost like he can read your mind, he leans forward and presses his lips to yours once again, this time gently easing his tongue inside your mouth. You take it openly, loving the way he pushes it against yours, smooth and wet. He tastes like coffee; it's pleasant and warm and you're so distracted by the kiss that you don't realize he's taken his hand from your chin and moved it back to your pussy, carefully sliding his index finger beyond your lips and stroking upward.
Your hips buck immediately, still kissing him hard and loving the way he doesn't pull back, doesn't slow things down or even speed things up, just keeps it to your comfort level, lets you decide what the kiss is. You moan against his mouth when you feel the callus on the tip of his index rub lightly against a particularly sensitive spot. It's only then that you feel you need to pull away for breath, leaving your forehead pressed against his and letting out a long exhale.
"You really needed that, didn't you?" he murmurs softly, calm and gentle, "My babygirl needs to be touched so bad, doesn't she?"
You nod frantically, opening your eyes again, "Please, Mr. Miller," you breathe shakily, "Please make me feel good."
He groans again, closes his eyes and pushes himself up into you; you can suddenly feel something very hard beneath your dress and you're not entirely uneducated; you know exactly what it is. Out of curiosity you grind down a bit on him and he presses his lips to your neck again, humming against the skin.
"That's my cock, you know that right?" he breathes, "You ever felt a cock, sweetheart? Even through someone's clothes?"
You shake your head, feeling that familiar nervousness in the pit of your stomach at the thought. He must sense your uneasiness because he immediately pulls himself up a bit, pushes you forward so you're not seated directly on top of the hard shape of him anymore.
"Don't worry about that, today's lesson is about you," he says soothingly, stroking your pussy again and making you tremble, "I'm gonna teach you how to come, okay?"
You inhale shakily, feeling slightly relieved; it's not that you don't want to see his cock - God knows you really do - but you're so inexperienced, you really have no idea what you're doing. You feel excited - and kind of touched, in a way - that Joel is going out of his way to teach you exactly what you've been missing, things you've only heard about. Today's lesson....it repeats in your mind as you watch him touch you in the mirror, thumbing your lips wide; does that mean there'll be more?
"Okay, babygirl, here's what we're gonna do," he murmurs, breaking you away from your thoughts. "See this lil' nub right here?" You nod, peering in the mirror at the tiny hooded bump Joel is lightly prodding, sending a buzzing electricity throughout your body, "That's your clit, she's the most sensitive part of your pussy."
"I knew that," you breathe "I think."
He smiles at your reply, "You're gonna touch your clit, that's all you're gonna do. Just touch it and rub it until you feel yourself gettin' close," he moves his hand up to palm your stomach, "You'll feel it right here, in your belly. You'll know it's comin'."
"Okay," you whisper, nodding again.
"When you feel it buildin' in there, you tell me, and I'll make you come."
"And coming...that means..." you wince at your stupidity, "That's an orgasm, right?"
"Yes, darlin'," he murmurs; his face is suddenly blocked by your face as he kisses the back of your neck but you swear you can hear him smile, "That's an orgasm. I'm gonna give you your first orgasm, that sound good?"
"Yes," it's almost a squeak, desperate and shaky. You watch in the mirror as Joel takes your right hand and carefully brings it to your pussy, extends your index finger alongside his own and gently presses down, "Oh," you whimper, hips bucking again, "Oh."
"You're okay," he reminds you softly, prodding your finger harder against yourself, "It's just like the guitar, you gotta be firm."
It feels incredible, both yours and Joel's fingers tapping the tiny bundle of nerves with a steadiness you know is only possible because of him. Without his guidance you probably would have already dropped your hand, overwhelmed by the sensation.
"And now you rub," he explains softly, thumb and pinky curling around your other fingers as he holds your index steady, rubs it back and forth against your clit. Your mouth pops open, eyes going hazy again as you watch his movements in the mirror, "There you go," he whispers, and you catch him watching your expression, the pure bliss in your eyes as he makes you feel something you've never felt before, "Good girl, sweetheart, that's it."
"Oh my God," you breathe, aware that you probably shouldn't be taking the Lord's name in vain at a moment like this, but somehow the act feels almost godly in itself, a sensation of pure pleasure that you've never felt before travelling all throughout your body, "It feels- oh my God."
"Tell me," Joel breathes behind you, still holding your hand and letting you slowly start to rub yourself on your own, taking the lead, "Tell me how it feels, baby."
"It's- it's so good," you whine, tossing your head back against his shoulder, "Mr. Miller," you shake your head frantically, "I feel it already, Mr. Miller, in my stomach."
He seems genuinely surprised at that, eyebrows raising in the mirror, "Okay, babygirl," he whispers, "Lemme make you come."
He removes your hand, places it on your thigh. Without any hesitation you bring it up to grip his arm, holding it tightly as he brings his own hand back down to your pussy and starts to rub your clit again, this time at his own pace. Your jaw drops, eyes rolling back as he stimulates you perfectly, finger stroking back and forth at a pace that sends a wet squelching sound throughout the quiet room. You can't even feel embarrassed, too overwhelmed by the feeling of finally being touched.
You can't see the mirror anymore, head tilted back so far against Joel's body that you're just staring at his ceiling, mouth open wide as numerous loud and completely uncharacteristic sounds blare from your mouth, long and high and indiscernible.
"That's it," he groans in your ear, a deep rumble that urges you on as he continues to rub you furiously, "There you go, there you go. Fuck, babygirl, give it to me. Fuckin' give it to me."
His words send you over the edge and you feel yourself stiffen in his lap, legs shaking uncontrollably as you writhe within his grasp. He slows his movements, coaxes you through it, continues to whisper praises in your ear as you have your very first orgasm in his arms. Your chest is heaving with exertion as you cry out, tears stinging your eyes.
"Mr. Miller," you whimper, closing your eyes and letting him hold you tight, your grip loosening on his arm, "Mr. Miller." It's like a prayer, the way his name rolls off your tongue. Not even an hour has passed since you first stepped foot in his house and you're already prepared to make Joel Miller your new God, kneel before him and give thanks for everything he's just done for you.
"Shhh," he coos, removing his fingers and letting you relax into his embrace, "You're alright, I've got you."
You continue to whimper and shake, vaguely aware of him slowly beginning to lay flat against the edge of the bed, taking you with him. You lay on top of him, breathing heavily.
"So good," you whisper, voice positively wrecked from what he's just done, "Felt so good."
"I know," he murmurs back, kissing your hair again and wrapping his arms around your middle, "I know, baby."
"M'gonna fall asleep," it's barely a whisper now, quiet and relaxed, "Sorry." You don't last long enough to hear what he says in response.
--
You wake a bit later, confused for a moment when you open your eyes and are greeted by an unfamiliar ceiling. It's only when you look down at yourself and see Joel's duvet wrapped around you that it comes flooding back. You smile unconsciously, inhaling his scent and turning to bury your nose in his pillow. Everything smells like him now, including you.
You glance over at the clock on his bedside table: 12:04PM. You slept for a solid two hours. It doesn't surprise you, not after the shitty sleep you had last night and the absolutely ridiculous orgasm he gave you right before you drifted off, but still....two hours? And he didn't wake you?
You sit up slowly, squinting at the afternoon sun flooding through the blinds on his window. You swear you can hear some faint music coming from somewhere, a stereo nearby? A car passing? Then, your eyebrows shoot up as you fling yourself out of bed and run to the window, opening it up and peering down at the patio below.
Joel is sitting on his front step again, wearing different clothes now; he must have showered after you'd fallen asleep...probably took care of himself as well. The thought makes you shiver but you push it away, instead focusing on the lovely sounds emanating from his guitar, a slow and gentle tune that instantly relaxes you.
You pull back from the window and face the mirror nearby, assessing yourself. You're still the same person you were a few hours ago but something is different; your hair is a mess, makeup smudged, dress disheveled. With a bit of hesitance you slowly pull up the hem and expose yourself, eyeing yourself down there where Joel had touched you. You find that it doesn't make you as nervous to look at it now, unable to help the small smile that appears on your face when you remember the way Joel had worshipped it mere hours ago.
The memory of Joel has you leaving his bedroom quickly, descending the stairs in his house and walking into the open living space once again. You spot your hoodie on the couch and grab it, zipping it back on as you search for your panties; they're nowhere to be found. Your brow furrows as you pull up a few of the couch cushions but come up emptyhanded.
You smooth your dress down; it's long enough that it doesn't show you're not wearing underwear, but you'll probably have to hold it down when you walk home. The last thing you want is to expose yourself to one of your elderly neighbors.
You take a few deep breaths and walk to the front door, readying yourself to face the man who just gave you the best experience of your life. As soon as you open it he turns on the step, still playing his relaxing tune and looking you up and down.
"Hi," you breathe, a little shy, playing with your hands a bit as you walk toward him.
"Hi, babygirl," he says with a kind smile, nodding to you, "Sleep good?"
"Yeah," you reply, shuffling over and settling down beside him on the step, "Sorry, I didn't mean to sleep for so long."
He smiles again, tilts his head, "You can sleep in my bed as long as you want, darlin'. Any time."
You feel your skin burn, looking down at your bare knees and biting your lip. He keeps playing the song, humming to himself as he does it; it's not a tune you recognize but that doesn't matter, just listening to him play is enough to make you feel warm and fuzzy.
There it is, you think to yourself, the attachment. It's already starting.
You look up at him again, smiling fondly at his look of concentration as he strums steadily. Your gaze falls to his fingers on the neck of the guitar and you swallow, remembering all too well where exactly they've been. The song finishes on a long and sweet note, positive and lovely. You can't help but playfully clap for him, grinning when he rolls his eyes and lays the guitar behind him.
"What song was that?" you ask, eyes bright as he peers over at you.
"Aha, Take on Me," he replies with a smirk, "Never heard that one?"
You shake your head.
"Wow, you really are just a kid, aren't you?" he murmurs, giving you another once-over before he turns back to look at the street, still pretty empty. Your brow furrows at his words, suddenly unsure.
"Is that...does that bother you?" you ask hesitantly.
He turns back to you and immediately shakes his head, "Not at all, sweetheart. Just means I have a lot more to teach you."
Your skin tingles at that and you feel yourself throb uncomfortably against his wooden step. You look down at yourself, making a face.
"What is it?"
"I'm already..." you shake your head, feeling embarrassed, "It's... I'm wet again."
"Jesus," he groans, almost laughing as he tilts his head back and looks over at you with a wide grin, "Don't say that to me, babygirl. Not when you gotta head home."
You look at him, confused, "I do?"
He nods, frowning slightly, "Your momma drove down the street about ten minutes ago, figure she'll probably be wonderin' where you are."
You sigh exasperatedly, rolling your eyes, "I'm so sick of living with my parents. I can't wait to go back to college."
"Poor baby," he says softly, "C'mere." He pats his knee and you go to sit on it but freeze, assessing the street.
"What if someone sees?" you ask quietly, unsure.
He seems to think for a second, then nods and takes your hand. He helps you stand up and leads you quickly into the foyer of his house again, shutting the door and wrapping his arms tightly around you.
"Mmmm," he hums into your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, "You smell so sweet, darlin'."
"I smell like you," you whisper back, unable to hold back your grin, "I smell like...sex."
He holds you tighter and pulls back to look at you, tilting your chin up and leaning down to kiss your lips. It's soft and unhurried; he still tastes like coffee, bittersweet and delicious,
"You come back here any time you want, okay?" he murmurs against your lips, "I mean it, any time. But especially when that pussy's wet and achin' for me. I'll give her what she needs, babygirl."
You shiver and lean up to capture his mouth again, nodding through the kiss and whispering, "I will, Mr. Miller."
--
You walk home quickly, holding your dress down and feeling more rebellious than you've ever felt in your life whenever the warm summer breeze ruffles past the fabric and onto your bare pussy, reminding you that you're not wearing any panties. They're lost somewhere in Joel's house; the thought gives you butterflies.
Your mother is bustling around in the kitchen when you get home, putting away groceries. She's distracted enough that she doesn't notice when you slip past the kitchen and head upstairs to change your clothes.
After showering - something you desperately didn't want to do but had to - you change into a more modest outfit and retreat back down the stairs, walking into the kitchen so your mom knows you're back.
"Oh, where were you?" she asks, chopping up a carrot on a cutting board in front of her, barely looking up, "Did you meet up with Bethany? Alice?"
Oh shit, you hadn't thought of a cover story, "Uh, yeah, met up with both of them."
"Lovely," she replies with a smile, finishing chopping and turning to look at you, "And they're well?"
"Yep," you nod, hopefully not too much, "I, uh, might be helping out at the soup kitchen soon."
Your mother claps her hands together and walks toward you, "Oh, I'm so happy to hear that," she suddenly furrows her brow, looking at your face with slight confusion, "Are you alright, dear?"
"O-oh, just... just warm from my shower."
She smiles and nods, turning away from you again, "Could you help me chop some veggies? I'm making soup tonight, might be good practice for when you're volunteering."
"Yeah, sure. No problem."
You reach up and touch your face one last time, feeling the heat still etched beneath your skin that you know for a fact is certainly not from your shower. You take one last steadying breath, then walk forward to help your mother.
You come back here any time you want, Joel's voice echoes in the back of your mind. You start to wonder how long you'll be able to last, but you already know the answer.
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Text
The Best Kisser
Summary: You were interviewed by Vanity Fair for their lie detector episode which went viral.. and Pedro happened to watch it as well.
Characters: Pedro Pascal x female reader
Genre: romance, fluff
Warnings: flirting, sex jokes
a/n: I am hungry for Pedro Pascal. He. Is. Daddy.
Masterlist
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"Who's the best kisser out of all of your co-stars?"
Your eyebrows raised. "There's a few on that list. I don't think I remember them all."
"Don't worry, we have that list." The woman took out a piece of paper for you to read with the camera zoomed in from above you.
"Ben Covington, Daniel Kaluuya, Grant Gustin? I don't remember... Oh, in that one episode of Flash, right..." You went through the list of names while talking to yourself and stopped.
"Looks like you know your answer?"
"Yeah." You handed her the paper back, pressing your lips into a shy smile. "Pedro Pascal."
"Pedro Pascal? Why?"
You glanced at the camera. "Just because."
Pedro paused the video, a smile lingering on his lips. "Ah, cariño, what am I going to do with you.."
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Oscar's New Year's party was happening tonight. It wasn't huge, mostly just his close friends and family, and your goal was to reconnect with them after your hectic year. You're good friends with both Oscar and Elvira, and they had invited you to come.
"Y/N, glad you could make it!" Elvira hugged you.
"Hey! I brought my mom's famous lemon pie and some beers."
Elvira welcomed you inside. "Perfect. Here, let me get that delicious smelling lemon pie and you can put the beers outside -- away from the kids, you know how it is. Oscar's outside too!"
"Cool, don't eat all the pie!" You teased and made your way to their backyard.
Oscar was there as she said, talking to a few friends, and a certain friend whom you recognized. A very good friend.
"So, how's the night going so far?" You stood between them, surprising the two men with your presence.
"Hey!" Oscar gave you a hug, "It's been a while! How are you?"
"I'm good," You put the beers down and faced the other man. "Señor Pascal."
"Señorita," Pedro smiled, hugging you and placing a kiss on your temple. "I heard you're gonna star in a big movie soon?"
You let out a nervous chuckle, "Hopefully it works out well. Can't tell you guys what it is just yet, but you'll see soon enough."
Oscar had sensed there was something you two needed to talk alone, so he left to help Elvira.
You offered Pedro the beer you brought. "So how about you? Heard you're gonna be on The Last Of Us? That's a pretty big deal."
He shrugged, beer in hand. "Yeah, it's pretty cool. I have yet to actually play the game, but my nephews are elated."
"Well if you want to try out the game you can borrow my console, I have it." You mentioned, though later hitting yourself in the head when you realized you just indirectly invited him home.
He raised a brow. "I didn't know you're into video games?"
"I like to play sometimes, but it's just good to have for my nephews when they're over."
Pedro nodded while noticing there were more people now. "Hey, follow me."
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You and Pedro met when you were shooting a movie, that was 2 years ago. You've kept in touch since, but it was hard to meet in person due to your busy schedules. In the movie you two worked on, both of you were the main characters and the chemistry was off the charts.
Sadly it didn't win or was nominated for awards, but you made a good friend out of it.
It wasn't until Oscar's kid's birthday party that you met Pedro again. You met Oscar through the first Dune movie, and you had no idea that he was best friends with Pedro Pascal.
"It's been a while since I last saw you." Pedro said. "I've missed you, we should hang out more."
You nodded, unable to deny the beat your heart skipped and the blush creeping to your face. You convinced yourself it's the beer. "Yeah, I've missed you too."
Pedro took you to Oscar's balcony, where there were only the two of you. This way you could see the fireworks while also have a private conversation.
"So.. are you seeing anyone right now?" Pedro asked. Despite him being confident in front of the camera and knowing that his fans pray to him day and night, he was still nervous when asking that question.
You were his crush for the longest time -- yes, crushes still exist even for older people. He didn't want to mess it up with you, he knew his persona could come off as a fuckboy who has commitment issues, but he's really not like that.
You shrugged, "Nope. I've just been focusing on myself lately, just.. going with the flow."
Ever since you shot that movie, the chemistry was so great that both of you wanted to make sure it wasn't just 'the high' from filming a movie together and getting too immersed in the characters.
"I saw you in Wonder Woman," You said, "Please never shave off your mustache again."
Pedro laughed, "What, you're a fan of my mustache?"
"Pedro, please." You smiled, leaning against the railing next to him. "I used to play with your facial hair all the time when we were shooting that movie, remember?" You unconsciously traced your fingers along his beard.
The realization only hit you after Pedro was looking at you with adoring eyes. You pulled your hand away and you could feel yourself getting red in embarrassment.
"Sorry, I.. don't know why I did that." You turned the other way, letting the cool wind hit your face in hopes that it'll cool you down.
Pedro chuckled, covering his mouth with his hand, hiding his victory smile and the redness crawling up his cheeks. Did you really just caress his face like that??
Taking a big sip of his beer, Pedro gathered the courage to look at you once more, noticing your (also) flushed face and he smiled. He might have a shot at this after all.
"So," He cleared his throat. "Best kisser, huh?"
You knew exactly what he was talking about. "You.. watched the video?"
"You went viral." He smiled, "Of course I watched it. How could I not? When my cariño is talking so sweetly about me.."
You covered your face, "Okay, so I complimented you. And yes, you were the best kisser out of all my other co-stars. Congrats, I guess?"
Pedro had a grin on his face, a teasing grin, and you're now looking at him with a knowing look. Mostly because you both noticed the change in the mood, noticed that the chemistry is back, and that you both wanted this.
You didn't know how long you two were on that balcony, but it was probably a long time cause the crowd downstairs were starting to count down the new year.
"10! 9! 8! 7!"
Pedro turned his body so he was trapping you between his arms, "So, princesa,"
You looked up at him, holding his intense gaze, waiting for him to finish his question.
"You think I'll still hold that title?"
Your heart fluttered, you could see the hunger in his eyes, and you knew you felt the same way.
"I guess we'll find out."
You said it in barely a whisper, but Pedro picked it up loud and clear. He snaked one hand behind your waist and the other on your face, pulling you closer.
Everyone counted from three, two, one, and Pedro smiled sweetly at you, holding you close with your noses touching before pressing his lips to yours.
This was probably the first time ever you've missed the fireworks, but if this was how you'd spend the rest of your new year's, you really wouldn't mind.
---
a/n: in case you can't tell, I have a massive crush on this man.
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jadeylovesmarvelxo · 3 months
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The Kissing Game
The two times you and Eddie almost kiss and the one time you do
Fluffy,minors dni, 18+, jealous Eddie, soft Eddie. Idiots in love and mutual pining.
❤️
It was one of those stormy days in Hawkins, rain battering off the windows, the wind whistling through the trees, the weather forecast said it wasn't to let up all night.
This is how you and Eddie were currently stuck inside his trailer. He point blank refused for you to drive home when the weather was so bad.
So here you are bundled up in Eddie's room as he plays his guitar. Testing out a new song for Corroded Coffin, he scribbles down lyrics and mouths along to them, makes sure they fit into the song.
Eddie had told you to get comfortable and to be honest, there was nothing you liked better than listening to him strum on the guitar. It was bliss.
"What's the new song about Ed's?" you ask him curiously and to your confusion, a deep pink coats his cheeks. He's rarely one to blush, like ever.
Was this about some girl? It's the only thing you can think of that would make him blush so badly. Jealousy gnaws inside you, no matter how hard you try and push it down.
You and Eddie had barely been hanging out less than a year, still it was surprising how close the two of you had gotten in such a short amount of time.
"Uh, it's special. It's for someone special" he mumbles and there's a burst of agony in your chest that some lucky girl was going to have Eddie, pouring his heart out to her.
"She's lucky," you murmur and his eyes widen, he scrambles to his feet and moves closer to you. Some strange tension fills the air between the two of you.
Instinctively, you move closer to him too and shiver in pleasure as his hand reaches up to caress your cheek. Fuck. Was he going to kiss you? You wait with baited breath but just as something was going to happen, the front door opens.
It's Wayne. You and Eddie jump apart as he enters Eddie's room, smiles at you both and talks about making a nice, warming casserole for dinner, as it's chilly as fuck outside.
All the while that almost kiss stays in your mind all night.
❤️
You and Eddie don't mention the almost kiss. In fact it's an unspoken agreement that said kiss didn't even happen. So if you were both being a little weird at least according to Robin and Steve, then so be it.
Eddie was acting stranger than usual though, anytime you were near Steve his eyes narrowed and turned impossibly darker. Considering the fact, that him and Steve had been getting on extremely well, bonded over their love of annoying and looking after lost sheeples, it was a surprise to you.
It was meant to be a relaxing movie night. Hosted by Steve for the kids and the rest of the gang, except you were finding it extremely hard to relax at the moment. Worried that Eddie was going to make a scene for whatever inexplicable reason.
What was wrong with him? He was perfectly fine yesterday and didn't have a problem with Steve a few days ago at Family Video.
Was it because Steve hugged you a little longer than usual today? Whispered in your ear about his latest date and made you giggle... Was it possible that Eddie was jealous...
No. No way, he doesn't like you that. You'd know if he did surely?
...
By the end of the movie night, you were extremely pissed off. Followed Eddie to his van in an attempt to get some answers from him.
"Eddie, do you want to tell me what the hell is your problem with Steve?" Eddie ignores the first question as you both head into the van, you stare at him expectantly and he avoids your questioning gaze.
"Do you like Steve or something?" He spits out after a few seconds and you gape.
"Of course I like Steve, he's a great guy" you point out and Eddie looks frustrated, runs his hand through his hair.
"No. I mean do you really like him?" Flustered you realise what he means and shake your head.
"Not like that. He's just a friend Eddie" something akin to relief passes over Eddie's face. A small smile graces his features and he looks happy, certainly happier than he did throughout the movie.
His fingers entwine through yours and you feel your heart begin to skip several beats, your hand fits in Eddie's perfectly and the way his thumb strokes over your skin is making you feel heady, you don't want it to stop.
It seems like you have the same effect on him as there is a slightly dazed look in his eyes. This time when he moves closer to you, there's no hesitation this time and your lips are mere inches apart.
However the moment is broken by Dustin, Max and Lucas. "Hey, Steve is taking everyone else home so can we get a ride from you Eddie?" Dustin asks hopefully and you and Eddie exchange frustrated glances.
"We were in the middle of something you little butthead" Eddie huffs, but starts up the van and begins the journey taking the kids home. All the while your mind is racing.
That was the second almost kiss in a week. There was no denying what was going on now, but would you ever get to kiss Eddie? Something always seemed to get in the way...
❤️
Eddie had had enough of obstacles getting in the way of you and him. Twice now, the two of you had been about to kiss and each time you were interrupted. First Wayne and then Dustin, yesterday the two of you attempted to hang out alone but were interrupted by Robin and Steve.
Honestly, Eddie was at his wits end. For weeks he has been trying to tell you how he felt about you, he was even writing a song for you and couldn't wait for you to hear it.
You almost did the other day, the day of the first almost kiss. But the song wasn't ready, he wanted it to be perfect. He wasn't exactly in his comfort zone writing a love song, he was used to the heavy metal vibes of Corroded Coffin.
For you though, he wanted to try and get this song right.
Today he was going to do it. He was going to kiss you and no interfering little buttheads, friends or otherwise was going to interrupt.
The moment Eddie sees you he almost chickens out, almost. Quickly he shakes away his nerves and walks over to you.
There's a similar determined glint in your eye and you take Eddie by complete surprise, when you kiss him first. He's speechless when you pull away which for him is a rarity.
"Wow, he murmurs and you smile happily, about fucking time huh princess?" He teases you and you shut up his gleeful words immediately with another kiss.
Now that he is kissing you, Eddie doesn't want to stop, he also plans to kiss you all the time, annoy the shit out of the sheeples and get his revenge on them for interrupting the two of you the last time.
Yes, revenge was sweet. Eddie doesn't think much about his plan after that, when you nibble on his bottom lip and all his thoughts temporally cease for the moment.
❤️❤️
💞
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hazbinhotelxreader · 2 months
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Lucifer x GN adopted child reader
A/n: still have writers block. Trying to move and do school! Sorry it’s taking long! But I’m also going through some stress and emotions too and couldn’t write- but to heal me, I have made some Lucifer parent headcannons because he is the father I never had😔😔
-Platonic
-He adopted you out of depression, and being lonely. Not seeing his daughter for so long, and his wife(wives) really broke his heart. And since he can’t have children due to his lack of woman, he decided to adopt! Where you come in!
-When he saw your adorable little face in one of the foster home rooms, he knew you were perfect. You were young, not old enough to know who he was since Lucifer/Satan wasn’t out in public all the time, or at all. So while the other kids that were older cowered in fear, you were curious and un afraid, something that Lucifer loved about you.
-He can cook. Good. Expect him to make you home cooked meals all the time, so homemade dinosaur nuggets, aren’t you lucky? He’ll also help you learn how to cook, family bonding time! He has so many pictures of you two cooking together. He doesn’t mind the mess, he’s literally Satan, just a snap of his fingers and everything is clean!
-He definitely gives you rubber ducks as gifts almost everyday. He’ll make you personal ducks for you, a character, friend, yourself, anything! Of course, he’d never test any of the rubber ducks with abilities on you. He’ll give you those once he’s 100% sure they’re safe. Expect him to get or make you duck costumes or clothes. He’ll order some matching duck pajamas for the two of you to wear on movie nights, both of you watched DreamWorks “migration” so many times, but it’s your favorite movie, you both watch it together at least once a week.
-he’s not big on punishments. The farthest he’ll go is put you in time out. He has a stool for you in the corner of his office(with duck prints of course) and makes you sit there until you learned your lesson. He’s never hit you, or punish you physically, nor would he hurt you mentally, he loves you to much to do that.
-He would help you accomplish your dreams. He wasn’t able to accomplish his, but he can help you. He wants you to be free, to be as curious as you want, to let you learn. He wants you to be happy. He’ll give you everything he didn’t get. and, he’ll make sure you are on the right path to your life, and that you have everything you need to accomplish your goals and dreams. He’ll do make sure every obstacle is solved for you, but will also let you try to get through it on your own.
-He will never let heaven know you exist. He doesn’t want you to be targeted but them, especially exorcists. If your a sinner child, he’ll protect you with his life in his castles he’ll put you in a hidden room with him, and to keep you entertained he’ll play with toys with you, watch tv, sing to you, or just talk and tell you his past dreams. If your hellborn, then he’ll be less panicked about the extermination. But he wouldn’t let you outside, or near any of the doors and windows during that time.
-Lucifer would be very nervous to tell Charlie about you. He doesn’t want her to think he replaced her l, he just needs someone to take care of and protect that wouldn’t leave him. The day you met Charlie was the day Charlie had called him over to talk to him about getting them into heaven. And he thought it would be a “great” time to meet your older sister.
-You were Nervous, but more excited than your father. When Charlie saw you, she was overjoyed and knelt down on say hi, she was so kind and sweet to you. You were a little kid! She couldn’t be mean (if she was). She asked her father who you were and when she found out you were her adopted sister, she was both excited and heartbroken. She was upset. Not at you, her father. He was just starting another family being her back…? She would have loved to help raise you, play with you. But she can’t change the past, so she might as well make the most of your appearance now.
-After meeting Charlie, Lucifer brought you to her hotel more often after they felt with all the extermination stuff and rebuilt it. He’d leave you with Charlie for a weekend every now and then so you two could bond. You two have sleep overs all the time. Plus Vaggie. Vaggie likes getting involved, she wants to get to know you more and have someone from Charlie’s family like her more. You three have little “girls days” together, even jf alastor joins from time to time
-Speaking of Alastor, neither Charlie and Lucifer let you go near him alone. He’s too dangerous. Charlie will let you go near him, speak to him and play with him only if she is with you. Lucifer will not let you go near him at all. He tried to talk Charlie out of letting you see him, but Charlie doesn’t want to start any tension. Lucifer fears you may be taken away from him or hurt by Alastor. Charlie clearly likes Alastor more than him, and Lucifer doesn’t want it to happen again, so your interactions around Alastor are very limited here Lucifer is around.
-But he is a pretty great father otherwise. He wants to treat you right, and be there for you even if he couldn’t be there for Charlie.
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toji-girl · 3 months
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single dad | t. fushiguro
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tags: single mom! fem reader + fluff but not? idk lmao
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thinking about you being a single mom meeting Toji at the park because Megumi is best friends with your daughter, and they want to live together so they can always play and be with each other.
you haven't really interacted with him, but you knew that he's been a widow since his son was born. "Why do we need to go now, mom?"
Megumi mirrored her, looking at his dad, who towered next to you, visibly irritated as he stared back at him. "Because it's dinner time."
"Can we eat together?" Your daughter asked, her eyes doe like with a perfect pout too.
you looked over at him and understood why the moms talked about him even though they have husband's at home. "You two can come over."
that's how the four of you ended up in your dining room having a good time. It's felt like forever since it's been this lively and felt lived in.
Megumi and your son went to go play outside, the back double door giving you the chance to watch over them.
Toji sat across from you, making small talk while glancing at the clock knowing he'd have to get Megumi down otherwise the little boy would be bouncing off the walls. "How have you been?" You asked.
green eyes took you in from the other side of the couch, the man was hulking and big, everything about him screamed for all the attention to be paid to him, his corded muscles didn't make you immune.
"Shit. Workin' myself to the bone. You?" his voice was gruff as you struggled to hide your frown, the idea of him struggling pulled on your heartstrings and you wanted to help the only way you knew.
you nodded and patted his hand that rested on his knee before pulling away not wanting to give him any sort of idea. "Same, I'm starting to dream about work, but you know if you or Megumi need anything or you need a break just let me know." You told him gently.
his own heart shuddered in his chest as he stared at you, that warm feeling spread through his entire being, it's been too long since a woman wanted to care for him and not just use him for sex.
"I'll keep that in mind, thanks," he replied with his own soft smile just in time for Megumi and your daughter to come running down the hallway giggling and playfully swatting at each other.
Megumi ran over to you first and settled in your arms just as your daughter did snuggling into your touch, the need for a motherly figure in his life has overshadowed everything.
Toji watched the way you tended to both children making them giggle and scream with joy until it was time for them to go, cue meltdowns and begging for Megumi and Toji to stay the night.
you sighed and gave in letting them both take the couches in the living room but before going to sleep the four of you spent more time as a makeshift family, something both kids needed.
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fuckmyskywalker · 4 months
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝. — 𝐃𝐢𝐥𝐟!𝐀𝐧𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧 𝐒𝐤𝐲𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫.
18+. Smut. Cheating. Affairs. Dilf!Anakin. Female Reader | AFAB!Reader. Age gap. Minor sexist remarks. Tit sucking/play. | Word count: 1.2k (not proofread!)
This is a draft from like May 2023. I don't remember why I never finished it but here it is. Can't believe it's almost a year old.
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"Could you stop staring at them?" You ask with a frown, rolling up the car window. Anakin’s blue eyes hold a lustful intensity as they admire your bare tits, bringing his hand to his lips to remove the cigarette and exhaling the smoke outside the parked vehicle. 
"They're pretty," Anakin smirks, tired eyes almost glowing under the dim street lamps of the empty road. You have no clue where he brought you, but then again— you don’t ask too many questions about Anakin. "You have bigger tits than my wife."
"Ugh, you're fucking disgusting" You roll your eyes, looking away so he can’t see the ghost of a smile on your lips. As mean and hypocritical the compliment is— something about being approved under the eyes of a man who could easily be your father makes your stomach twirl.
“It's true,” Anakin continues pushing through, well aware that with enough sweet talk, you’ll fall under his claws… even his definition of ‘sweet talking’ leaves much to be desired. “Plus, yours are still intact, you know.” 
“Meaning?” 
“Kids, idiot. Your tits don’t have stretch marks or are saggy,” Anakin replies as if it wasn’t obvious. The comment makes you give him a dirty look. Age won’t take the sexist tendencies. 
“I think stretch marks are hot” You reply with a mindless shrug. “You have stretch marks on your lower back.” Anakin rolls his eyes, flicking the burnt cigarette outside the window. 
“I didn’t ask for your opinion, did I?” He bites back, looking outside for a moment to hide the smirk on his lips. It’s hilarious how similar you two can be sometimes. Anakin throws the cigarette pack back in the cup holder and turns around, leaving one hand on the steering wheel and returning his eyes to your tits.
But you saw his little smirk anyway.
He considers smoking another one, but he can already imagine the lecture from his wife about the smell and he already showered this morning so he doesn’t want to sleep with damp hair.  Anakin notices how you twist your shirt on your lap, playing with the seams and the tag. You are nervous, which isn’t something unrealistic when you are with him. He can be so unpredictable and the whole thing of “having an affair with a married man who is old enough to be your father” already gives you enough of adrenaline and anxiety; Sometimes Anakin asks himself how the affair started, when did it changed from lingering looks and polite smiles to fucking you in the couch, after knowing you his whole life as the neighbor’s daughter who grew up playing dolls with Leia and hide and seek with Luke. 
It has been a couple of minutes since he asked you to remove your shirt, not really touching you, maybe edging you by waiting for his next move. Sneaking with Anakin is always like this. Finding a cheap motel every four days or so— because God forbids you to go to the same one three times in a row, that could be suspicious— eating some greasy takeout in the parking lot and then wandering around the streets. It may look that Anakin is prolonging the “date”, but you know better. He just dreads driving back home, he dislikes going back to his so-called perfect family. You know things are terrible under the tall, well-built roof. You hear it from him, read Leia’s texts, and wait for her when she has to stop his parents from arguing. Perhaps you are tangling yourself too much with the broken family… or tangling too much with his dick in your mouth and his fingers between your legs.
Your window is closed but not his. Outside isn’t particularly cold but you are shirtless. Your nipples are hard and sensitive and Anakin seems to enjoy the view. You can see the outline of his erection, choosing not to point it out. “Can I put my shirt on? I don’t want to die of hypothermia.”
“No,” Anakin simply answers. 
He doesn’t break eye contact with your chest when he speaks, as if he is in a trance. His hand cupped your left breast, not the gloved one that you know his wife hates, no— the flesh one, the one that is warm all the time. You relax under his touch, already used to being groped at any time. It’s oddly comforting. Or maybe it is the feeling of being desired.
Closing your eyes, you sigh, content with the minimal contact. A few seconds later his right hand joins and he is now freely palming your breasts, squeezing them softly, and rubbing your perky nipples with his palms. You don’t get why his wife hates his leather glove so much. Or is it the mechanical hand underneath? You would never know, nor you wish to— You can’t even bring yourself to think about anything else right now. His fingertips, calloused and rough pinch the tender nubs making you moan. 
He intercalates the groping and the pinching, taking his sweet time until you are breathless. Anakin can be patient when he wants to, not when he needs to. The constant teasing makes you press your thighs together, already turned on by his harsh touch.
Anakin continues torturing you until you are panting, closing your eyes and arching your back every time he pulls them softly. He even bounces them a little, licking his lips. He always knew he loved tits, but yours were his absolute favorites.
“Recline your seat” Anakin murmurs.
“What?” You snap out of your weak daze, looking at the older man with half-lidded eyes.
A deep chuckle bounces inside his car, you never cease to amaze him. “Brainless bitch,” He says with a tone that could be mistaken for affectionate. Anakin removes his hands much to your dismay, shaking his hand and clicking his tongue when you whimper in protest. “Shut up.” Reaching his hand towards your side, he pulls the lever of your seat. Reclining it and making you gasp. Your eyes meet the ceiling just in time for him to lower his face, attaching his mouth on your left nipple and sucking.
Your hand instantly touches his hair, running your fingers through the silky sea of blonde and gray. How can be so handsome in his late 40s? Only God knows. He sucks and bites, enjoying it a little too much. Anakin wouldn’t be Anakin if he doesn’t leave a couple of hickeys and bites, and you can’t complain. Seeing them the next morning when you get ready for school is always a blessing… and a gloomy reminder of the twisted relationship you are involved in— if you can even call it a relationship.
“What time is it?” He suddenly asks, lifting his head and licking his lips. 
You check your phone on the pull handle. “9:48, why?”
“My wife should be asleep. Look for another motel,” Anakin cradles your face, guiding your face towards his and kissing you, sliding his tongue between your lips and making you moan weakly from just a kiss. That’s the type of effect he has on you. “And call your parents, tell them you will be staying over in a sleepover with Leia.”
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augustvandyne · 5 months
Note
Hey! could you please right a natasha x wife r? Idk if you remember when the avengers have to take refuge and they have to go to clints house (he's reluctant bc he has a secret family only nat knows about)? well could you write it so it's actually nats family that no one knows about? and she's super reluctant to take them there
everyone's alive and no one knew she had a family (not even clint) and the timeline is SUPER wack bc plot twist, yelenas already there. the avengers are hurt nat didn't tell them and they're kinda mad too
nats wife doesn't like having them there bc it's her home and they're putting them all in more danger then they normally are in. the kids don't like them either bc they 'take their mom away' or something like that (but the kids adooore their aunt yelena)
this is super long I'm sorry but the idea has been plaguing my head and I feel like it would be fun to read about. thank you and have a great day!
hi! yes! don’t worry about it being too long, i’ll listen to and write whatever thoughts you have.
safehouse
You and Yelena were baking a cake when pack of Avengers came piling through the front door.
You were expecting Natasha later in the week, and alone. Not with the danger that is literally standing in your doorway.
That was the best part of this place, there was no danger. Nat left work at work, and when she came home all she focused on was her family—you, Yelena, and your two lovely children.
So you were definitely surprised, and not happy, to see the other five Avengers.
You walk further into the living room, and when Nat sees you, her face is immediately apologetic.
“Babe—“
“Who are all these people?” Yelena comes and stands beside you in the living room, staring up at all the men.
“This is Steve, Clint, Tony, Thor, and Bruce. They’re my friends,” Natasha shrugs.
“Uh, no, we’re not your friends now,” Clint crosses his arms with sass.
“They’re the Avengers,” You correct your wife. “And they shouldn’t be here.”
“Listen, I wasn’t going to even bring them here, but—“
“It’s our fault, ma’am,” Steve interrupted.
“Oh, here we go,” Tony throws his hands in the air.
“What?” Steve whines.
“First the language, and now the manners. Good god,” Tony rolls his eyes.
“Okay, take it elsewhere. More preferably, back to where you came from,” You fake smile, earning a glare from Nat.
“Where are the kids?” Nat asks, and you get the feeling she needs to talk. Alone.
“Upstairs in the playroom. Yelena, why don’t you take them outside to play on the swing set?” You ask sweetly.
“Ah, gotcha,” Yelena gave a look to Natasha that said, good luck.
The kids say hello to Nat, made faces at the men still in your living room, and then squealed with joy out the door because their mama is home.
You looked away from the door and back up at the Avengers once again. Nat softly grabs you by the arm and pulls your towards the other side of the living room.
“What are they doing here, Nat?” You lean closer, your foreheads slightly touching.
“I had no other choice,” Natasha’s raspy voice makes it hard not to forgive her.
You sigh and purse your lips.
“Really,” Nat insists. “If there was any other choice, I would have made it. We just got into a little trouble, and need to camp out for a few days.”
You made a vow not to ask what trouble she was in, so you kept your mouth shut when she says this.
“Okay. But if there’s even a little bit of damage to the house, they are paying for it,” You lift your head up and walk back towards the group, Natasha following close behind.
Nat glances your way, then back at the boys, “We can stay here. But only for a few days.”
“So this is where Lady Natasha goes every time she takes off,” Thor nods.
“Yes. A home we didn’t even know about?” Bruce shakes his head.
“I can’t believe you never told me,” Clint looks genuinely hurt when Nat looks at him. “I thought we were friends.”
“Yeah, what he said,” Tony puts his hand on his chest.
You roll your eyes and head back to the kitchen before the cake burns, letting your wife deal with her friends/fellow Avengers.
You finish the frosting Yelena had started, and ice the cake once it comes out of the oven. You then start on dinner. Something easy everyone can enjoy—pasta.
Dinner goes about as well as you thought it would.
Nat and the kids catch up. She just saw them a week or so ago, so there isn’t much to catch up, but you love watching Natasha play and talk with the kids.
You try not to laugh as the kids keep making faces at the guys.
Your daughter starts to kick Tony in the shin, to which him and your daughter start having a staring contest.
“Okay, what are you guys doing?” Nat asked.
“Your tiny agent keeps kicking me,” Tony says, never taking his eyes off the smaller girl.
“Okay she’s not an agent, and it’s probably because you take her mother away every chance you get,” You sighed with frustration. “Good she’s kicking you, maybe you’ll leave then.”
“Y/n—“
“I’m sorry,” You look at your wife. “I said it was okay, even though you’re putting us it more danger. But, I will try to be civil, but only for Natasha.”
“Thank you.”
Later in the night you had assigned everyone to places in the house to spend the night.
Yelena had volunteered to spend the night with the kids, so at least two people could bunk in there, and it was fine by you because the kids adored Yelena.
So two people slept in Yelena’s room, you had one in the living room, and two in the guest room downstairs.
“They are mad at me, you know?” Nat brushed through her hair.
“They’ll get over it. It’s a safe house,” You wrap your arms around her waist from behind. “You are supposed to keep it secret.”
“I know,” Nat turns so you two are face to face. “I love you, and thank you for letting us stay here. We’ll be out of her in two days, tops.”
“Good,” You plant a kiss on the side of Natasha’s mouth.
“But I might not be back for a while,” Nat cups your cheek in her hand.
“I had a feeling,” You look down.
“I’ll just have to make it up to you.”
“How about you start now?” You lift a brow and squeal as your wife picks you up and puts you on the bed.
Danger aside, you loved having your wife back in your arms, and you were granted with just that from this crazy mission.
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nebulaafterdark · 6 months
Text
Exile (Part 3)
Summary: Y/N Undersee thought the games were over after becoming a victor. Unfortunately, life outside the arena has become just as dangerous. Prequel to Moves & Countermoves
Trigger warning: forced prostitution, explicit sexual content, alcohol abuse and other mentions of trauma. 18+ ONLY
Part 2
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Days turn into weeks and they fall into a routine. Y/N and Haymitch lead different lives for the most part. He likes to stay in, she needs to go out. To see people. To prove to herself that the world didn’t actually change, only she did.
“My father wants you to come over for dinner.” Y/N tells her husband, upon her return from town.
“He wants me?” Haymitch frowns.
“Well, it’s a family dinner,” Y/N shrugs. “You haven’t really met my family.”
“I know your family.”
“I didn’t mean…” Maysilee.
“You said your mother struggles,” Haymitch remembers their conversations. Every word she’s ever said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for her to see me.” The boy who won, the year her little sister died.
“My dad wouldn’t have asked if he thought it would be too much for her. He’s very protective of my mother.” Sometimes at the expense of his own daughters. “It would mean a lot to me.”
“Fine.” Haymitch takes a long swig from his glass. “We can play happy family, why not?”
“I don’t want you to feel like you have to put on a show. Just be yourself.”
“If I didn’t know any better I’d almost think you like me.” Haymitch smirks.
“Good thing you know better.” Y/N grins, turning away from him.
————————————————————————
“Well, Haymitch, it’s good to see you again.” Mayor Undersee claps the other man on the back as he steps over the threshold into Y/N’s childhood home.
“Nice to see you too.” Haymitch forces a smile.
“Please, come in and make yourself comfortable at the table. Dinner will be served momentarily.”
Y/N gives Haymitch’s hand a squeeze, kissing her father’s cheek, in greeting, before leading him deeper into the house. If Haymitch could even call it a house. More like a mansion, similar to the ones they occupy in victor’s village.
Madge and Mrs. Undersee are waiting for them at the dinner table. The girl glares up at him from her seat. She’s younger than Maysilee was, when Haymitch met her in the arena, but it’s still like seeing a ghost. It hurts to look at her.
“Madge pie, this is Haymitch.” Y/N smiles at her little sister.
“I know who he is.” Madge bites out. Y/N never had many nice things about him, until a few weeks ago when she up and married him.
“Y/N talks about you all the time.” Haymitch tells Madge. “All good things.”
Madge scowls, and says nothing.
“I understand that this is confusing for you. I know he and I don’t have the best track record.” Y/N sighs. “But what I need you to know is that Haymitch is good to me; he’s so good to me and he’s…important to me.”
Haymitch stares at Y/N, snapping his mouth shut as Madge huffs, but agrees to drop the subject.
He was important to her? Haymitch stews on it, through dinner. He couldn’t be important to her, he isn’t good enough. It’s his fault they’re in this mess to begin with.
But Y/N seems…happy. Happy with him and her family all together. Happy to make him part of her family.
Perhaps things have changed for her too.
The Undersees are nice enough, but they make Haymitch long for his own family. To have people he could bring her home to meet. His mother would’ve loved her. His little brother. His father was a man of few words, even still, Haymitch is sure Y/N could’ve pulled a smile from him.
When they are stuffed from their meal, the table disbands. Waving Y/N and Haymitch goodbye, from the doorway.
The victors set off, back to their village. Their foot steps falling in tandem atop the melting snow.
“I think they like you.” Y/N says, after a moment of silence.
“Your kid sister wants to string me up.” Haymitch chuckles.
“Madge will come around. She just needs time.”
Haymitch nods. “Well, they invited me for an encore next week. So at least there’s that.”
“You can tell them no, you know?” Y/N reminds him.
He shrugs, “happy wife, happy life.” You’re important to me too.
They manage to make it home, to the new couch in the foyer, before they’re a mess of lips, tongues and wandered hands.
“I want you.” Y/N breathes, staring up at him above her.
“You have me.” Haymitch assures her.
“Please?” She is prepared to beg. Because surely that wasn’t allowed.
They haven’t…not since their wedding night. Never just for them. Never just because they wanted to. Mostly, they exchanged a few words and then did this; kisses and heavy petting.
“Angel,” he sighs. She couldn’t possibly want that, she must want comfort and to be close to him. “This is enough, I’ll stay right here.” With her legs wrapped around him like a vice. “We don’t have to do anything else.” He nuzzles her nose.
“I want to. Just for us. Unless you don’t-”
“Oh believe me, I want.” His cock is hard and pulsing between them. “But only if you’re sure.”
Y/N nods. “I’m sure.”
Haymitch kisses her then, letting her set the pace. Their clothing hits the floor and Y/N keens as he slips a hand between them. She’s so wet.
“Please.”
“Anything you want, anything you need.” Haymitch murmurs, lining himself up with her entrance and easing inside.
“Fuck,” Y/N says. He angles her hips upward, hitting that spot with each pass.
“Is that all you want, angel?” He hums, cupping her breast in his hand. “I’ll keep you full of me and make you cum until you can’t think straight. Is that what you want?”
Y/N nods.
“Oh, sweet girl,” he all but growls. Leaning back on his heels, driving into her faster. “I want that too.”
He can’t avoid her like this, or feign a shred of indifference. All he can do is love her and love her and love her. Fuck, how he loves her. Even though he isn’t supposed to, even if he’ll only admit it to himself when he’s balls deep. Haymitch is in love. In sinking, festering, all consuming, inconvenient, love.
Y/N kisses him reverently, because Haymitch makes her feel things. He’s one of the few people who can, after the games. Like parts of her went numb in the arena. She feels nothing at all. But he sets her ablaze. Sometimes with rage, other times with passion, but she’s never felt this way about anyone before.
It is real, so very real.
The coil in her belly goes hot, impossibly tight. What is he doing to her? “I-” she begins to protest. “Uh!”
“You’re ok.” Haymitch assures her, pressing his hand to her lower belly, adding to the sensation.
“Oh god,” Y/N gasps. It’s unlike anything she’s ever felt before. Building and building… “Haymitch!” She claws at his forearms, in warning.
A rush of wetness greets him. Her cheeks heat up, but Haymitch won’t allow her to be embarrassed. “I want you all over me- make you cum on every piece of furniture in this damn house.”
Y/N whines, lost in him. His words, his touch, his eyes, boring into her soul as he ruins her. Until there is nothing left but him. All of him and all of her, splayed out for the other to see.
————————————————————————
Things are different after that. Haymitch becomes very…attentive. Bringing Y/N little gifts. Anything from books he found at the hob, to flowers he’d found growing around the back of their house.
Because it has become theirs now, not just his. Little pieces of her are everywhere, twining themselves into his DNA.
Y/N takes an interest in fixing his favorite meals, watching his face light up.
“Went down to the hob today.” Haymitch tells her, lying his latest offering on the dinner table.
Y/N turns away from her pot on the stove, flipping the burner off. “Oh?”
“Funny enough, they asked about you.”
“Haymitch-”
“Whatever you’re doing down there,” supplying them with things to sell, bringing money back into the district, “is grounds for execution. Even for a victor.” Haymitch reminds her. “So you’re gonna stop doing it.”
“I can’t stop, Haymitch. Those people, our people, they need that money. They’re starving!”
“I’m taking over. You supply the goods, I’ll pitch in some things of my own. But you stay away from the hob. Peacekeepers can’t see you there, nobody can see you there.” Haymitch continues.
“I’ve been doing this for years.” Since before the games. “I haven’t been caught.”
“You got lucky.” He reasons, “or maybe you didn’t.”
“What?”
“What are the odds that the mayor’s daughter gets her name called at the reaping? You didn’t have to take tesserae, so your name was in there once? That’s some incredibly bad luck on your part. Or maybe somebody did know that you were trying to help the people in the seam.” Haymitch lifts a shoulder.
“My aunt’s name was in there once. Just one time. It can happen and it does.” Y/N crosses both arms over her chest.
“Look, I don’t want to fight. I know this is important to you, but I can’t have you there. It’s too much of a risk. I’ll be the middle man.”
“Fine,” Y/N sighs. Reaching down for his glass and taking a swig. The liquid is foul, burning her nostrils and throat, causing her to sputter and gag. “Is that fucking rubbing alcohol?”
“That’s the hard stuff, angel.” Haymitch claps his hand against her back as she continues her coughing fit. “Should’ve started off with wine or champagne.” Something sweet for his sweet girl.
“It tastes different when…” Y/N’s eyes dart to his lips. “When it’s on you.”
“Interesting,” Haymitch muses. Suddenly he’s having her for dinner.
Part 4
Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @ancientbeing10 @1-800-styles @l3xi3luv @lam-ila
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