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#hi I’m gonna call you thumbs up anon
ilovejoll · 4 months
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👍
!!!!! :D
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pathologicalreid · 5 months
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heyyy!!! I just wanted to say I really love your work and this is my first time sending a request so sorry if it’s not very specific 😭💕
If you’re still doing requests, I was wondering if you could do a fem reader x Spencer Reid where it’s similar to your cryptic pregnancy one, except Spencer is at home with her when she’s in labour without realising, and she’s just in a lot of pain and it all of a sudden gets worse and she’s just in the bathroom shouting for Spencer, he comes in and eventually works out what’s going on, readers sort of in denial? Maybe the ambulance doesn’t get there in time so Spencer has to help her give birth? Lots of fluff and hurt/comfort :)
Also completely fine if your not comfortable doing it, but again really love your work and hope you have a great day 💕 :)
three's a family | S.R.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff content warnings: cryptic pregnancy, traumatic birth, precipitous labor, hospitals, medical inaccuracy (its just me and google against the world), takes place after 9x7 "gatekeeper", surgery, near death experiences, periods, home birth word count: 3.16k a/n: anon i'll be so honest with u i wasn't sure if i was gonna write this but then i learned what precipitous labor was and i was like "i would not wish this on my worst enemy... i'm going to force it on y/n" BUT please keep in mind that there is a .000012 probability of this happening to you (i did the math) this is the wildest thing ive written to date i think
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“I’m going to try a bath,” you murmured over to Spencer, wincing as you dragged yourself out of bed, walking at a turtle’s pace to the bathroom, hoping the warm water would soothe the cramps away.
Your period came and went as it pleased; it was just your luck that it decided to give you debilitating cramps on your one day off. Padding on the tile floor behind you, Spencer leaned against the doorframe to the bathroom, “I could run to the store and get a new heating pad.”
Sticking your hand under the tap to check the temperature, you plugged the drain once you found it to be satisfactory. You shook your head, “No, it’s fine.” Your original heating pad must’ve gotten lost somewhere in the depths of your storage closet, but you didn’t have the patience to look for it. You could manage just fine without it.
“Will you let me know if you need anything?” He asked, leaning forward to press a comforting kiss to your forehead.
Nodding, you hooked your thumbs in the waistband of your pajama pants and pulled them down, watching as Spencer pointedly flicked the bathroom fan on – something you often forgot to do.
You lasted about thirty minutes in the bath, not only was the water beginning to grow lukewarm, but if anything, your cramps were getting worse while submerged in the water. Grunting, you reached over and tugged the plug from the drain, watching as the water drained, you managed to pull yourself to a squat before you felt stuck.
Aunt Flo really had it out for you this month.
Burying your face in your hands you accepted defeat and called out for Spencer, reaching up and trying to stand again, but only succeeding in knocking over several shampoo bottles. “Spence!” You tried again, white-knuckling the edge of the bathtub as you bowed your head. A creeping feeling that this wasn’t your period was beginning to rise.
You listened as your husband made his way up the stairs, turning the corner into your room, and opening the door to the ensuite. Moving quickly, Spencer dropped to a crouch in front of you, cupping your pained face in his hands, “I don’t think this is your period, angel.”
Clamping your lips together to prevent yourself from crying out, you simply nodded in response. How awful was it that you were going to die, naked, in your bathtub?
Spencer wiped tears away from under your eyes – you hadn’t even realized you started crying. “What does it feel like, darling? What else could it be?” He asked, voice urgent but gentle as he tried to stop you from panicking.
As you shook your head, you couldn’t focus on anything else besides your breathing as another pain rose up through you. “It’s like a cramp, but with more pressure,” you said, depending on the bathtub and Spencer to keep you upright as your legs shook beneath you. “Like something’s pushing on me, kind of like I have to shit.”
Reaching behind him, Spencer dug through one of the drawers in the bathroom vanity before retrieving the handheld mirror that you used when you cut his hair. Before you could ask what he was doing, he placed the mirror at the bottom of the tub, just beneath you. “I think you’re in labor,” he announced, breaking the news to you.
“There’s no– fuck,” your voice broke off as you dropped your head onto Spencer’s shoulder, breathing through what was apparently a contraction. “I’m not pregnant,” you insisted as your symptoms started to make sense. You had been in labor all morning.
Nodding to himself, Spencer quickly kissed your cheek before standing up and making sure you were stable before stepping to the side.
You frowned as you looked up at him, “Where are you going?”
He didn’t go far, opening the linen closet and piling towels into his arms, “I’m getting towels to put in the tub beneath you, and then I’m going to call an ambulance.”
“You want me to give birth in our bathtub?” You asked, furrowing your brows quizzically before letting out a low whine as another contraction hit.
Stopping what he was doing, Spencer dropped down to you, running the flat of his palm up and down your back as he gently reminded you to breathe. “Did you want to change positions?”
Immediately, you shook your head. You already had an insurmountable task ahead of you and you saw no reason to add to that task by trying to move. “This is fine. Squatting is good, right?”
Nodding assuredly, Spencer smoothed your hair away from your face, “Gravity can help the baby descend the birth canal, and some people even say that the position can increase the pelvic diameter.”
While you were currently less concerned with the diameter of your pelvis and more concerned with feeling like your body was being split open, you continued going through the motions as he called for an ambulance, trying to explain the situation to the dispatcher.
“Have you been timing your contractions?” Spencer asked, tilting his head at you curiously as the dispatcher spoke on the phone.
Releasing a groan, you gripped the ledge of the tub, “I didn’t know they were contractions!”
Relaying that information over the phone, Spencer dropped to his knees in front of you, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll take care of it.” He continued to reassure you, taking one look at your desperate expression before ending the call with the dispatcher.
He understood that you were vulnerable right now, and you didn’t want that broadcasted to a stranger on the phone. If you weren’t so preoccupied with remembering to breathe, you’d be more grateful. After a contraction ebbed away, Spencer stood up.
“I have to go unlock the door for the paramedics,” he told you, keeping a wary eye on you. “I’ll be right back,” he comforted you as he took one last look at you before tearing out of the bathroom.
In record speed, he returned to the bathroom as promised, “It’s bad,” you cried, the pressure on your pelvis becoming insufferable.
Crouching in front of you, Spencer studied your face before he spoke carefully, “I have to check your cervix.”
Despite his carefully chosen words, your lips still parted in shock, “You have to what?”
“I’ll use my hand to measure how dilated you are, and then… we’ll go from there,” he told you, nodding almost imperceptibly. At this point, you weren’t sure who he was trying to reassure – you or him. “Do you trust me?”
“Yes,” you answered instantly, “indefinitely.”
You bit down on your lip as you let Spencer check you, understanding entirely why people choose to get epidurals – this was horribly uncomfortable. “On the next contraction, you need to push, okay?”
For just a moment, your breathing faltered as your scared eyes met his, “Spence, wait,” you pleaded.
Smoothing your hair back, your husband did everything he could to comfort you, “What is it, love?” He asked, his voice soft.
“I’m scared,” you confessed, voice cracking ever so slightly as tears flooded your lash line.
He leaned forward to gently kiss your lips before pulling away to press his forehead to yours, "I've got you. You're going to be fine. You're both going to be fine."
You could see his carotid pounding, and somehow the fact that he was secretly as scared as you was more comforting than the words that came from his mouth. As you pushed, you focused on everything that Spencer was saying instead of the pain. Don’t push for more than eight seconds. Remember to breathe. Your body will know what to do. I love you. I love you. I love you.
By the time Spencer was saying something about the head, your hearing had gone muffled. “You’re doing so well, baby,” you made out his voice and nodded dazedly. “You’re wonderful. I’m so proud of you – just a little more,” he cajoled.
Taking a moment to breathe, your ears and eyes focused as shaky breaths filled your lungs.
“I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful,” he murmured, dropping a kiss on your bare shoulder as he comforted you, continuing to keep you upright.
You shook your head, sniffling as your eyes screwed shut, “You’re perfect. Don’t stop. Keep talking,” you begged, needing something to focus on other than the pain.
“There’s about a point zero four percent chance of you getting pregnant and not finding out until you’re in labor,” he told you, hoping that the information would help you wrap your head around what was happening to you. “One to three in one hundred people have a precipitous labor,” he continued to speak as you pushed, and you wondered what the odds of you squeezing his hand so hard that you did damage were.
Against your better judgment, you looked down to check your progress, “Holy fuck,” you said breathlessly. You weren’t entirely clueless, you knew that once you got past the shoulders the remaining pushes would be easier. You also found yourself grateful that Spencer knew what he was doing – this was, after all, the second baby he had delivered.
You bore down, determined to get the baby out while Spencer untangled your hands, bringing his own down to catch the baby. Out of breath, you panted heavily as you started to feel lightheaded. “Done,” Spencer said quickly, “it’s done. I have him.”
Carefully, Spencer held the baby along the length of his forearm, rubbing the tiny newborn’s back. “Come on, come on, come on,” he muttered under his breath, and it dawned on you that the baby wasn’t crying.
At the realization, your legs finally gave out from beneath you, watching with wide eyes as Spencer tried to clear your son’s lungs. White hot tears streamed down your face as you whispered, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” You took a gasping breath as you silently pleaded for a cry, “I didn’t know,” you sobbed, guilt building a pit in your stomach.
With bleary eyes, you looked on as the baby finally spluttered and let out a wail. “There you go,” Spencer cooed softly, his own voice stiff with emotion as he cradled the baby and handed him off to you.
You were still sobbing as you held the baby to your chest, “I’m so sorry,” you continued to babble, watching as Spencer briefly disappeared into the bedroom before returning with a blanket and wrapping it around the both of you. While holding the baby, your vision started to blur around the edges.
Watching you intently, Spencer cupped your face in his hands, “I love you.”
Nodding, your face crumpled before you responded, “I love you too.”
When the paramedics announced themselves, Spencer called out for them, not wanting to leave your side. The two of you focused your attention on the wriggling baby in your arms.
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He was premature – too little to stay with you in the recovery room. The NICU doctor had estimated that he was born at approximately 32 weeks, meaning he’d likely need to spend a few weeks in intensive care. “I want to see him,” you said insistently, looking over as Spencer as he fussed over you.
“You just had abdominal surgery,” Spencer responded simply, as if that was meant to clarify everything for you. He continued fluffing your pillow, which wasn’t entirely productive considering you were lying on the pillow.
As it turned out, you had experienced what was called a precipitous birth, or a rapid birth. It tended to be dangerous, and the fact that you did it in your bathtub only heightened that danger. You reached your arm out for Spencer, “c’mere,” you muttered, trying to get him to stop fretting. “Did you listen to anything that the doctor just said?”
Spencer nodded in understanding, “Lots of rest, no physical exertion, IV medication for now-“
“Did you hear the part where he said I was going to be okay?” You asked, raising your eyebrows at him curiously, you watched as he took your hand in his and sat on the edge of your bed. “I’m going to be fine,” your voice was determined, you had a few small incisions on your abdomen from the surgery to repair a tear in your uterus. “Thank you for looking after me,” you whispered.
Your husband gently smoothed your hair back from your face, “I should’ve noticed it sooner.”
Using all of your strength, you squeezed his hand comfortingly, “You were incredible,” you assured him. “If it weren’t for you, neither of us would’ve made it.”
He shook his head, “Don’t say that.”
Raising your eyebrows, you cocked your head to the side, “It’s true. I couldn’t have done it on my own, I’m so, so thankful for you, my love.” 
You had passed out in the ambulance as a direct result of blood loss, so you were brought to a trauma bay as soon as you made it to the hospital. Once they were in the ER, the baby was taken to the NICU, leaving Spencer with a lot of decisions to make.
When you woke up in the recovery room, the first thing you did was ask about the baby.
Spencer, of course, had been up to see him. The nurses claimed he seemed like a fighter, and Spencer knew the survival odds of a 32-weeker, so he turned his attention to you. Every other option had already failed, so the next option was a laparoscopy. Your husband admitted that while it seemed extreme, the very last choice was a hysterectomy, and he didn’t want to make that decision.
Furrowing your brows, “When can I see the baby?” You asked, not entirely sure how to refer to the infant just yet. It wasn’t until then that you realized you needed to name him at some point – your son.
“Once your blood pressure goes up,” Spencer told you with an authoritative tone. “You lost a lot of blood in the ambulance, but the blood transfusions will bring your blood pressure back up.”
Tilting your head to the side, you glared at your husband, “And is this rule from a doctor with a medical degree or a doctor whose name is on my marriage certificate?”
In response, Spencer shrugged, sitting in the beige armchair at the side of your bed, “That’s a secret I’ll never tell.”
You rolled your eyes dismissively, “Will you go see him?”
He leaned over the edge of your bed, taking your hand in his. “I can, will you be alright on your own?”
Nodding almost imperceptibly, you squeezed his hand affectionately, “I just don’t want him to be alone.” You whispered as tears pricked your eyes, you took your free hand and waved at your face, “god, what’s wrong with me?”
“A sudden drop of estrogen and progesterone immediately following birth causes mood swings. Nothing is wrong with you, your body is acting naturally,” Spencer explained patiently, dropping a gentle kiss on your lips.
You sighed before melting back into your pillows, “At least something about this feels natural,” you responded. Your brain felt like a spinning top, while your body felt like you were being weighed down by an elephant in a commercial for COPD medication.
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The fact that the NICU nurse informed you that your son had a ninety-five percent chance of living a completely normal life did nothing to calm your nerves. He’d have to stay in the NICU for a few weeks and you tried to convince yourself that the extra time to prepare for him to come home would be good for you, but the idea of leaving him alone at the hospital – save for a small army of doctors and nurses – put a pit of dread in your chest.
Spencer had the forethought to warn you about the tubes and wires that he was hooked up to, ranging from oxygen to a feeding tube. “He’s been undergoing red light therapy to be treated for jaundice, but you can hold him for a while if you want to,” the nurse told you, leading the both of you through the NICU as Spencer steered your wheelchair through the hospital.
Your breathing hitched when you finally saw him, this tiny stowaway that had been growing inside of you for the last several months, and he was just so little. While you were still in your own room, you had convinced yourself that you’d hold him, but now you weren’t so convinced.
According to the sign in his room, he weighed three pounds and ten ounces and was sixteen inches long. He was sound asleep in an incubator, a small hat on top of his head, “Spence,” you breathed.
Behind you, your husband placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, “I know.”
“Did you want to hold him?” The nurse asked you gently, looking over at one of the machines that he was hooked up to.
Genuinely, you didn’t know. “Is… is that okay?” You asked, wiping your sweaty palms on the blanket draped across your legs.
The nurse gave you a knowing look, “Even better than okay, it’ll be good for him to have that kind of contact from both of his parents.”
Frowning, you watched as it took two nurses to break him out of his acrylic prison before they carefully placed him on your chest, making sure you were okay before they stepped back. Your movements were stiff at first, you had never held a baby this small before, but you eventually remembered to breathe and gently cooed at the baby in your arms.
Spencer crouched down next to you and started to ask the nurse a bunch of questions that he had likely been holding in for hours, but you just kept your eyes on the sleeping baby. He was too small to open his eyes, but everyone assured you that he’d get there.
The nurse stepped out to give you some privacy, leaving the door open just in case you needed something, “This doesn’t seem quite as difficult while I’m holding him.” You knew there was a steep learning curve ahead, but with a newborn on your chest, the pit in your heart dissipated.
“That’s called oxytocin,” Spencer said, sitting in a chair, eyes fixated on the infant in your arms.
Humming, you skimmed the pad of your thumb across your son’s tiny back, “He looks like you,” you observed quietly, they had the same nose.
Your husband smiled softly, “You can’t possibly tell which parent he takes after yet,” he informed you.
“And yet, I know he looks like you,” you insisted softly, and Spencer didn’t push back. “You look like your daddy,” you whispered to the baby, “he was the first one to hold you, you know?” You looked over at Spencer, “he’s been my superhero for four years, and now he gets to be yours too.”
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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 2 months
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oh, baby | Tyler Owens x reader
Requested by anon / Summary: You’re pregnant with Tyler Owens baby. Lots of fluff. 
A/N: My first Tyler Owens fic. I hope you all enjoy. Also, the lack of Tyler Owens gifs is very upsetting. 
Go follow my fic rec blog! ---> @imaginationgonewild0912
**MASTERLIST**
Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED
** Rules for Requesting **
** Who I Write For **
********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS
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This one moment was about to change your entire life. You were terrified. Would you be a good mom? Would you be able to make a good enough life for the little growing blimp inside you? Your thoughts were running a million times a minute. Wondering how this would affect the rest of your lives. How this one moment just changed the rest of your life. 
You slowly sat on the edge of the tub, in shock, the positive pregnancy test in your hand. Your mind drifted to Tyler. Oh god. His tornado wrangler YouTube channel had began to soar in popularity. He and the team making a name for themselves. He had millions of views and a huge fan club. What would this do to his career? 
“Hey hun-” Tyler knocks on the door, jolting you from your thoughts. His hand jiggles the door finding it locked. He furrows his eyebrows, you never locked the door. “you alright?” 
“Y-yeah!” You rummaged underneath the sink, hiding the test under some towels. “One sec.” 
You knew Tyler was getting ready to leave, a few storms brewing before this upcoming weekend. You exit the bathroom and met with Tyler’s hard chest, “You leaving?” 
He peeks behind you, concerned and curious, “Yeah, why’d you have the door locked? You never lock the door.” 
You shrug, playing it off. You could wait to tell him when he got back, “sometimes a girl needs her privacy.” 
He hums in response, not completely believing you. However, he didn’t want to press you. If there was something bothering you, you’d eventually tell him when you were ready. He could respect that. He slips his arms around you, tugging you close against his chest. He was a mix of sweat and that musky sandalwood. It was calming and heavenly. “I’ll be back in a couple days. You gonna be able to hold down the fort?” 
You nod against his chest, tightening your arms around him, “I can.” You lift your head to stare up at him, “You better come back in one piece.” 
He chuckles with a nod, “Yes ma’am.” He presses a soft kiss to your forehead and then your lips. “I will call you when we get to the hotel.” 
You walk him out to bid him and the team goodbye. Shielding your eyes from the sun, you watch him drive down the driveway. He hangs his hand out the window, waving goodbye. You return the wave, saying a silent prayer for a safe return of him and the team as your hands find your new growing womb. “He’ll be back.” 
~
You’d spent the entire weekend trying to figure out how to tell him. You’d called one of your girlfriends in tears, wondering how to tell him. Worried you would be ruining his life. She reassured you, “Tyler isn’t that kind of guy, y/n. You know that. He’s going to support you and be excited for this next step.” 
You heard the slam of the screen door, “Tyler must be home.” 
“Call me later.” 
You throw the blanket off you, meeting him in the foyer as he’s taking off the boots. “You’re home early?” 
He smiles at the sight of you, but frowns when he notices you’ve been crying, “Had a feeling I needed to come home to my girl.” He crosses the foyer to you in only a few steps before gathering you in his arms. 
At the first feel of comfort, the flood gates open, sobbing into his chest. damn hormones. 
“Oh baby..” He squeezes you tighter, cradling your head against his chest, “Talk to me.” 
You take a few seconds to console yourself. His large thumb wipes your tears away, waiting patiently for you. 
You gather yourself, taking a deep breath before you meet his eyes, “I’m pregnant.” 
His large hands cup your cheeks, his eyes light up, full of hope, “Yeah? You’re pregnant?” 
You nod and hiccup a sob, beginning to rant, “I’m so sorry-you’ve just started your YouTube channel and you guys are so successful now-” 
“No no no- Shhh.” He pulls you in a comforting hug, “This is incredible. I couldn’t be any happier.” 
He holds you against his chest, slowly rocking back and forth as you calm down, “I knew something was bothering you. I just had a feeling.” He kisses your hair, and then makes you look at him, “We’re gonna be parents.” He's hesitant, but places a hand on your stomach, “you’re gonna be an amazing mom..” 
You waddled into the room to find Tyler painting the wall of the nursery. His hat on backwards, jeans and shirt stained with paint. 
“How’s it going in here?” You take a seat in the wooden rocking chair, sighing in relief. Those stairs were beginning to take a toll on you. Your growing baby leaving barely any room for your lungs to breathe. 
“Almost done.” He sets the paint brush down, hands on his hips he admires his work around the room. “all I got left is this wall.” 
You rub a hand over your bump, wincing as you adjust yourself in the chair. 
Tyler noticing your discomfort, immediately is at your side, full of worry, “It’s not time yet-” 
“No no,” You laugh, “Just some discomfort. I’m fine.” 
He visibly relaxes, “He can’t come early. There’s way too much to do around here.” 
You roll your eyes, “It also could be a she.” You and him agreed to wait until the birth to find out the sex. He was convinced it’s a boy. 
“Daddy instincts.” He gets on his knees in front of you, hands on your stomach, “It’s a boy. I know it.” He flashes his pearly white smile at you. “a baby boy tornado wrangler.” 
“I think it’s gonna be a girl.” You shrug, “mommy instincts.” 
“We’re gonna prove your mommy wrong,” He says to your belly, “Right off the bat, you and I. I’ll finally be right on something.” 
Of course, the baby kicks at the sound of Tyler’s voice. Tyler grins, “See, he agrees.” 
“You’re screwed.” You whisper softly to Tyler. After hours of labor, you and Tyler finally welcomed your baby into the world. He’s seated in the rocking chair next to your bed, his bundle of joy wrapped softly in a blanket. --- a pink blanket. 
“There’s two of us now. You’ll never stand a chance.” You reach over and caress his arm. 
He looks at you with tear-filled eyes, “She’s only a couple hours old and she’s already got me wrapped around her finger. She could ask me for anything and I’m going to give it to her.”
“Like I said,” you say with a smile, “you’re screwed.” 
~
Comments, likes and reblogs are always welcomed and greatly appreciated. :)
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deanstead · 4 months
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Welcome Home
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Requested: Yes, by anon
Summary: Sam gets an unexpected call from Y/N, which brings another surprise for Dean
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Word Count: 2.7K
Tags/Warnings: Dad!Dean, canon-typical mentions of blood/violence
A/N: In my "everything i write sucks" era but thanks to @seatsbythepit for her consistent beta services! I think this was in my inbox for a (long) while so I finally got this out!
DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST
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Sam frowned, glancing at his phone where it was lighting up with an incoming call from a number he didn’t know.
Not many people had this number, so he picked up warily, as Dean looked up.
“Hello?”
There was a short silence on the other end of the line before a familiar voice reached his ears.
“Sam?” 
Sam froze.
“Y/N?”
Dean sat up straighter, his eyes flicking toward his brother but Sam wasn’t paying attention.
It had been more than 2 years since you’d left and not a day had gone by that Dean didn’t blame himself for it. Sometimes, when he lay in bed at night, the last fight still haunted him - the look in your eyes when those hurtful words had cut across the room, the defeated sound in your voice as you looked him in the eyes and told him that if that’s what he thought of you, there was no point to all this.
After you left, he’d spent too many days staring at your name in his lists of contacts, his thumb hovering over the call button. The days ticked by, and soon it was way too late for Dean to call or reach out so he was left with replaying the last conversation you’d ever had like he needed to torture himself to make up for the hurt.
“Where are you?” Sam’s voice pulled Dean out of his thoughts and he frowned. That was never a good sign.
Sam spoke in a low voice before he nodded and hung up.
Dean stared at his younger brother as Sam stood, pausing as his eyes flicked toward Dean who was watching intently.
“Dean, she…”
Dean nodded, his eyes flicking back downward. “Yeah, I don’t blame her.”
“Look, why don’t you help from here, alright? I’ll make sure she’s alright.” Sam said, although he knew it must be killing Dean. 
“Yeah, just let me know what you need,” Dean responded, failing to hide the slight dejection in his voice as Sam left.
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“Sammy.”
His name flowed off your lips the moment you opened the door, feeling familiar yet foreign at the same time. Yet, it was really good to see him.
Sam just smiled, enveloping you in a tight hug the way only an older brother would. “It’s good to see you.”
You nodded, smiling.
“You flying solo?” Sam asked, frowning.
You shook your head. “I’m not hunting. Not really. We were just passing through and I wanted to just run, but I… I couldn’t. Now, my friend’s sister is missing and I just…”
Sam raised an eyebrow. “Wait. We?”
You gave him a guilty smile. “That’s why I called.” You paused before continuing. “And why I asked you to come alone. I didn’t think I should surprise Dean out here.”
Sam gave you a confused look and you exhaled slowly.
Without saying anything more, you led Sam into the room, as his eyes fell upon a two-year-old kid. A kid who was unmistakably Dean’s son as he gripped a miniature Impala car in his hand where he was sitting on the ground.
Sam looked at you in surprise.
You nodded. “This is Leo.”
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It was probably a Winchester thing but Leo took to Sam almost immediately despite the fact he never let anyone else but you carry him for the past two years. 
You remembered how he’d wail in the doctor's or nurse’s arms but he seemed perfectly content sitting in Uncle Sammy’s arms now, playing with Sam’s hair.
“I was gonna get a friend to watch him, but if he likes you so much…”
Sam looked at you like you were crazy. “You’re not going alone.”
You exhaled slowly and nodded, like you’d already expected this answer from him.
Instead, Sam asked to review the information you had. It felt almost like the good old days, as you watched Sam pore over the notes you had at the small desk at the motel, the only thing different being that Dean wasn’t here and you had a two-year-old who’d fallen asleep in your arms.
You knew Sam was planning to call Dean when he left to get dinner but you pretended like you didn’t, busying yourself with preparing Leo’s meal.
When Sam returned with food for the both of you, you glanced at him and he nodded. “Yeah, I called Dean. Look, you know the research there is helpful. It won’t hurt.”
You shrugged. “I didn’t say anything.”
Sam glanced up at you. “What’s the plan, Y/N? Why didn’t you tell him? Or me?”
You glanced over your shoulder at where Leo was sleeping soundly and sighed softly. “I don’t know. I guess… I guess Dean and I never really had the talk. I didn’t know where he stood with regards to having kids, especially in this life.”
You paused, looking up at Sam momentarily before continuing. “Besides, we’d broken up. I thought he’d try to come and get me but… well, he didn’t. By the time I found out I was pregnant, too much time had passed and I didn’t know how to tell him.”
Sam nodded quietly, letting you continue.
“But I got out. I didn’t let Leo into this part of our life. Until today. And I hate it that he’s here when there’s a nest of fucking vamps right here. I didn’t…”
Sam reached out and squeezed your shoulder. “You were right to call. No matter what, it never hurts to have someone looking out for you.”
You smiled. “Well, I’m glad it’s you…”
“And Dean. Sorta.” You added after a small silence.
The conversation was cut short by Sam’s phone and he quickly answered it. “Anything good?”
You could hear the crackle of Dean’s voice and you felt your heart give a jolt. A jolt that didn’t exactly surprise you. Of course, how could you ever get over Dean Winchester?
You could vaguely hear Dean giving Sam some additional information before Sam hung up, glancing at you.
“You sure about this, Y/N?”
You glanced at Leo before nodding. You planted a firm kiss on Leo’s head, nodding to your friend, Samantha.
“Don’t worry. Sam’s great at what he does. We’ll figure this out.” 
She nodded back at you, assuring you that Leo was in safe hands.
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It was your first hunt in a long while, but being a hunter seemed to already be a part of your DNA. 
Armed with the information that Dean had dug up, you and Sam managed to infiltrate the nest, easily lopping heads of vampires off as they were caught off-guard. You were glad Sam was there to have your back, especially when you both made your way to the dead center of the nest. 
“Sharon?” You kept your voice low. 
You headed to where she was huddled in the corner. You didn’t know Sharon well but you’d met once or twice when you’d come up here to meet Samantha.
“Y/N?” 
Her voice shook slightly. 
You nodded. “Yeah. I promised Samantha I’d bring you home.”
Sharon looked around, her eyes flicking to a dead body lying to the side. “They’re…”
You shook your head at Sharon. “Sharon, look at me. We’re going to get you home alright? Trust me.”
“Come on, Y/N.” Sam urged gently. 
Of course, you knew hunts never went that smoothly. 
A growl alerted you that a vamp had joined you and your body stiffened, the grip on the machete in your hand tightening. 
“Sam, get her out of here.”
“Y/N.” Sam’s voice was stressed and you recognized it, the struggle between leaving you here and taking Sharon to safety. 
“I’ll be fine.” You assured him, glancing back at the new arrival.
Sam didn’t answer but you knew the exact moment when he took Sharon and left, their footsteps seeming to echo as they got further away. 
“You hunters are the real monsters.” The vampire droned, staring at you. “Here we are, just trying to survive and you break into our home and kill my entire family.”
You tried to stifle the sarcastic laughter that was at the tip of your tongue.
“That’s rich coming from you.”
You knew it was coming before the vampire twitched, and you swung your machete upward as he rushed toward you. 
The vampire sidestepped, missing the machete by inches as it growled, even more determined to get you.
You stepped back again as it lunged at you, your heart sinking as you felt yourself lose your footing. 
Fuck. 
You rolled out of the way but the vampire was too quick, pouncing upon you. 
You raised your machete but it was too close, the machete inching closer toward you as the vampire bared its fangs at you. 
You held onto a single thought. You had to get home to Leo. 
Then, as if by sheer willpower, the unmistakable sound of a blade swishing through the air before the vampire’s head rolled off its shoulders. 
“Dean?”
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Dean had lasted all of five minutes after the last call with Sam before he’d muttered a “screw this” to himself and torn his way out of the bunker and down to where Sam and you were.
You were still stunned as Dean rolled what was left of the vampire off you and helped you up.
“You alright? Are you hurt?” Dean’s eyes studied you, unable to differentiate if the blood on you was the result of any injuries you might have sustained before he’d arrived.
You shook your head. “I’m fine.”
The atmosphere sank into awkwardness as the both of you stood there now in silence.
“Sorry, Y/N. I know you wanted me to sit this one out, but I…”
You shook your head and interrupted him. “No, I… Thanks, Dean.”
You fell back into silence, both of you walking out toward the exit to Sam.
“God, Y/N!” Sharon’s stressed voice made her way to you first but you didn’t miss the surprised look Sam gave his brother even as you were assuring Sharon you weren’t hurt.
You looked up to see Dean quietly heading to the Impala, and before you could think through your next move, you were running toward him.
“Dean.”
Dean paused and turned to look at you.
You took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”
There was a look in Dean’s eyes that sat somewhere between confusion and intrigue.
You looked down at your blood-stained clothes and smiled. “Give me a few hours and I’ll come meet you at the bunker?” 
The words rolled off your tongue feeling foreign yet welcoming at the same time.
“The bunker?” Dean asked.
You shrugged. “Or wherever you guys want. If you don’t want me there.”
Dean shook his head. “That’s not what I…” He paused before continuing. “See you there.”
You watched the Impala drive off before you turned back to look at Sam, who had a small smile on his face, and you knew he’d heard everything.
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You’d delivered Sharon safely back to Samantha, who hadn’t asked any questions, just glad to see her sister again. and you even managed to shower and change before Leo even noticed you and Sam were gone.
Now, Sam pulled up outside the bunker and you took a deep breath. 
“Ready?” Sam asked softly.
You gave a short laugh. “Never.”
You felt everything at the same time as you took Leo in your arms and walked into the bunker, the memories seeming to hit you all at once - the way this place made you feel, the laughter in your head that belonged to a memory of the three of you as you sat in Dean's embrace.
Even if this was the same place where things had ended, it was the happy memories that followed you as you walked down the stairs now.
Dean stepped out of the kitchen, freezing in his footsteps.
His eyes took in the sight before him, a kid that looked like a carbon copy of himself except for the eyes that were undoubtedly yours.
“Y/N…”
You cleared your throat and exhaled. 
“Hey Leo, let’s go find you some snacks,” Sam said, reaching his hands out for Leo.
Leo cracked a smile and allowed Sam to pick him out of your arms. “Pie!”
Sam glanced over at Dean, unable to hide a chuckle. “I’m sure we have that.”
The silence that followed was almost loud as Dean looked at you in disbelief and you cleared your throat. “Let’s talk.”
Dean led the way into the library, unsure if he should be pissed or happy to see you.
You leaned against one of the tables, as Dean looked back at you.
“Sorry.” You said quietly, looking down. You knew Dean had every right to be angry and you braced yourself for the rise in his voice but nothing came.
You glanced up at him again, meeting the green eyes you’d sorely missed.
Met with Dean’s silence you spoke again. “I didn’t know how to tell you. By the time I found out about it, too much time had passed since the last time we spoke. I stared at your number but I was afraid. I…” You took another breath. “We never talked about this. I didn’t know if you’d be happy or not and I chickened out.”
“So were you never going to tell me?” Dean finally asked.
You couldn’t really determine the tone of his voice but you shook your head.
“I… I kinda was on the way here.” You said quietly.
Dean’s eyebrows shot up. 
“I didn’t really have a plan.” You said. “Part of me thought if I just drove here, I wouldn’t be able to back out anymore. Then, that nest of vamps kidnapped my friend’s sister so I…”
“So you called Sam.” It was a statement.
You gave him a tentative smile. “Didn’t think you’d appreciate seeing Leo without an explanation in the middle of a hunt.”
Dean exhaled slowly.
“So what now?” Dean asked.
You didn’t dare look up at him, afraid your eyes would give you away. The eyes that screamed how you were still in love with him and that you’d missed him every single day that you’d been apart. The way your heart crumbled every time Leo smiled because it reminded you of Dean, and how all you wanted was to be enveloped in those arms again.
Even as those thoughts ran through your mind, you felt the prick of tears because this was exactly why you’d put off telling Dean about Leo.
“I don’t know, D.” You answered quietly. 
Your voice cracked slightly and you hoped Dean hadn’t picked up on it.
“Y/N.” He called, forcing you to look up at him, even though the tears blurred your vision.
Dean closed the gap between the both of you, one hand cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, his other arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him.
“God, I missed you,” Dean whispered, as he pulled away just a little, your faces still pressed together.
You buried your face into his shoulder without saying anything, feeling your tears get absorbed into the shirt he had on.
You needn’t have worried about Leo. You looked at you son clutching the tiny toy Impala while he sat in his father's arms almost triumphantly as they came back in. Dean had brought Leo to see the real thing, and Leo had a ball of a time just sitting in the Impala.
“Mama, can we stay?” Leo asked with anticipation in his voice.
You froze. Dean and you hadn’t talked about anything. He’d kissed you, you’d hugged and then you’d gotten him out of that library to meet his son.
Dean closed the gap between the two of you, putting Leo into a giant hug between the both of you before he reached out for your hand.
“Stay,” Dean said quietly.
You glanced up at him. 
“I’m not going to lose you again.” Dean added, squeezing your hand gently. “Not for anything in the world.”
The words felt stuck in your throat, but you glanced at Leo and smiled. “Yeah, we’re staying with Daddy and Uncle Sammy.”
Dean leaned forward to press a quick kiss to your lips amidst Leo's triumphant yells.
Sam moved forward to press you into a hug. “Welcome home, Y/N.”
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THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!
If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!
Character taglists are open, hit me up if you would like to be added!
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svuguru · 3 months
Note
Step-dad Nanami who slaps your ass each time you walk by and can't keep his hands off you? 🤭🤭
Stepcest, minors and antis DNI!!! I’m not responsible for the content you do or do not consume ^_^ anon this is sooo canon I ❤️ touchy Nanami!! Kinda forgot what I was writing..... i hope you still like it though....?!? lazy ending mbmbbb
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Stepdad! Kento just can’t keep his hands off of his sweet girl, she was just so tempting! Any chance he had to even brush his fingers against your skin, don’t even think for a moment he wasted that opportunity.
“These are kinda tight, no?” Kento asks, his hands cupping your ass from behind as if to emphasize his point when in reality, it was just another excuse to slap your ass.
“… no? They look fine to me,” you tell him, genuinely confused because you don't understand the effect you have on him, even if they are actually a bit small.
"Mhm," Kento hums and he almost finds your words funny. "Let's see... they reach way above the middle of your thighs. Kinda short, yeah?" He moves his hands from your ass to the front of your thighs, his fingers creeping upwards until they reach the hem of your shorts.
"Isn't that the point? They're called shorts for a reason," and your sassy remark definitely earns a small laugh from your stepdad.
"You have a point." Kento murmurs, leaning down just a bit to press a kiss to your cheek. His hands slide up from the hem of your shorts to the waistband of them, slipping underneath it, making their way to the thin fabric of your panties.
A soft gasp escapes your lips and you turn your head to the side, looking at Kento from over your shoulder with raised eyebrows.
"What.. are you doing?" You ask breathily, feeling his fingers gently massage you from under your underwear.
"Sorry, sweetheart, is this okay?" Kento whispers in your ear, his warm breath fanning against your skin. After a moment or two, you slowly nod, sucking in a deep breath. He was being so casual about it, it was surprising, not to mention you were just in the middle of your kitchen.
You part your legs only a bit so you can keep your balance on the ground against his front while also allowing him access to your wet cunt. The feeling of his warm digits rubbing your damp pussy already had you grasping for his forearms, looking down at the little bump his large hands create under your shorts.
"You feel that, princess?" Kento groans against your skin, his thumb gently beginning to rub your needy clit, his eyes staring at the way your face shifts and contorts at the sensation from the side.
In response to his question, you nod your head, your breath gradually growing uneven. It's only a matter of moments until you feel Kento's index finger slide down to your sticky entrance, spreading your arousal around your sopping cunt before pushing his digit into you.
"Mmph-!" You moan, your body resting against his and relying on him for total support, which he gladly gives you.
"Hm? Feels good, huh, baby?" His voice is low and almost teasing as his finger sits inside your cunt to get you used to the feeling. "'m gonna start moving, alright?" And when you mumble out a weak "okay," he carefully thrusts his wrist into your tight hole, your juices coating his finger.
Kento continuously pulls soft whines from your throat, his thick digit fucking you tenderly and slowly for yours and his sake. He's so careful about it, so sweet and loving, it has your walls clenching around just his one finger.
You're so wrapped up in the feeling of his finger stuffed in your warm pussy, you don't notice the footsteps echoing from just a few feet away... thankfully, your stepdad does, which is why you're confused when he pulls away from you with a little kiss to your forehead.
You're about to whine about it until you see your mother enter the room casually a few moments later, grabbing a glass from the counter before filling it up with water like nothing was happening just twenty seconds ago because as far as she's concerned, nothing was.
"Promise I'll continue this later, sweetheart, just wait upstairs for me, mhm?" Kento whispers in your ear once your mom leaves the room, patting your ass before walking away and following behind her.
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hysteria-things · 6 months
Note
i REALLYYY need a sub matt fic plsss i read the one when he gets hard from seeing her in a bathing suit but can u do one where the triplets are like filming a video and she like like bends down to get something and sees how flustered it makes matt so then she just continues to do stuff like that like stand in front of him and "accidentally" backing up into him yea like stuff like that u know the rest 😁😁😁 (if so could u pls add a little bit of a mommy kink obviously if not that's totally fine)
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PLEASE ME
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: sub!matt x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: while filming a video with the sturniolo triplets, you notice matt acting strange so abruptly. when you realize what it’s about, you want to take advantage of it.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FILTHY, unintentional teasing lol, handjob, p in v, mommy kink, begging kink, praising, a little degradation, overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do that!), breeding, ROUGH
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 912
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: these requests are literally all the same LMAO
i’m sorry if the mommy kink isn’t RAGING for some reason typing that out makes me cringe a little😭
EDIT: hi second anon i’m very sorry i forgot to put the tata sucking that’s so my bad💔
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matt couldn’t help but stare. the boys decided to go roller skating for fun and film for wednesday’s vlog. currently, matt’s at the booth you guys picked out to rest while his brothers are still on the floor.
you wanted to rest your feet as well, so for now, you’re in charge of filming the two over the loud music and other people.
he watches as your body is hunched over the wall dividing the rink to the main area, your skirt lifted ever so slightly. you look so attractive to him, his pants tightening as he looks in your direction.
“that’s good for now, thanks y/n!” chris says as he skates by, giving you a thumbs up.
your giggle fills matt’s ears, his hips having a mind of their own. he thrusts softly into the edge of the table, whining lowly.
“are you alright?” you question, now standing in front of his face.
his eyes are wide like he’s scared. you have a look of genuine fear on your face because he’s been acting fine all night until this moment. “holy shit, matt. seriously, are you okay?”
“i-i need to use the bathroom.” he stammers, quickly getting out of his skates and speed-walking to the other side of the building.
“matt, hold on!” you call out, but he ignores you. you stumble to get your skates off, sprinting after the boy.
catching up to him as he’s about to enter the boy’s room, you grab his wrist and turn him around. his eyes are tearing up as if he’s about to start crying or something. “matt, what the hell?”
“it hurts.” he pouts, looking down at the ground.
face visibly confused, you try to figure out what the fuck he’s talking about. “what hurts?”
he slowly removes his jacket from in front of his pants, revealing the raging boner through his jeans. “oh.”
his lip quivers, still avoiding eye contact from the embarrassment. “it hurts so fucking bad.” he whines louder.
honestly, you feel bad for him, but that doesn’t mean you still can’t help… right?
before his brain can comprehend what’s going on, you push him into the restroom and lock the door, laying him down on the ottoman that’s in the center of the spacious room.
biting your lip, you bring your hand down to the inside of his pants, palming him through his underwear. he moans desperately, a wet spot forming from the pre-cum.
he’s so sensitive that he’s twitching already, and that’s your sign to wrap your small hand around his dick, moving up and down.
“what a pretty boy, you are.” you coo, his eyes fluttering back with a positive hum. taking your thumb, you move it on his swollen tip. his poor dick is aching for a release, or even better, to be inside of you.
you feel him tighten, moving your hand faster and faster with each pump. squirming rapidly below you, he sticks his tongue out from the pleasure. “i’m gonna cum!” he moans.
you tut. “ask.”
he mewls, eyes closing shut while panting uncontrollably. “please let me cum, mo—”
you smirk amusingly, knowing damn well what was going to fall past his lips. “who?”
sniffling, he now looks at you with a pleading face. “can i cum, mommy?”
giving permission, he spurts his hot liquid down his shaft, but you don’t stop. you keep pumping, hovering over him and slipping your panties to the side with your free hand. “such a good boy.” you praise.
he loves that.
matt hisses once you start to bounce slowly on his cock, still feeling stimulated from his high. it hurts him, but it feels too good at the same time.
his mouth hangs wide, eyes rolling to the back of his head when you start to gradually get faster.
whines and whimpers echo along the walls. thank goodness the music is so loud outside, otherwise people will be able to hear how pathetic he sounds.
you moan too, but not as loud as he is. his voice mind as well be gone by the end of this.
the way your walls engulf him perfectly rubs him the right way, biting his lip and whining nonstop. you whisper praises into his ear, knowing that it gets him closer.
“mo-mmy.” he says high-pitched. “please let me cum i-inside you. please, mommy.”
the begging has you clench, lips ghosting his. “you’re so pathetic right now, i love it.”
eyes crossing, he spills deep into your cunt you can feel it in your stomach. he shakes his head frantically. “e-enough. it hurts too good!”
“come on, baby.” you kiss him sloppily, hands tangling in his hair and tugging at it in the process. “you don’t want mommy to milk you dry?”
tears start trickling down his cheeks, and cries and sobs of pleasure enter your mouth as he tries to kiss you back.
the previous orgasm still leaks, but another one comes rushing in. he’s cumming so much to the point where you’re full, and the rest smears out of the sides of your pussy.
moaning one final time, you release what you were holding around him.
he twitches at the slightest touch, eyes still crossed from the ecstasy that flowed through his body in the short amount of time.
it’s crazy to think about, but you were best friends at the beginning of the night. now the night ended with you pumped full of his cum.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @sturnlcvr @elliesturniolo1 @tpvmz @user283926392 @lalalands86 @sukiipjs @sturniologirl813 @leahrab @chrissturniolosslut @h3arts4harry @sturnioloblogs @creamoncreamoncream2 @luv4kozume @ivyyyyyysposts @mirxcle1 @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @mattsdollie @catalina-island @mbsbaby @pinkfarts @slut4mattsturn @thesturniolos @vickeyzloserz @nononopenono1 @bitchydragonparadise @gdsvhtwa @hrt-attack @bellasfavbisexual @dwntwn-strnlo
931 notes · View notes
ilwonuu · 6 months
Note
Really enjoyed your recent Jaehyun fic! Can I please request shower sex with Jaehyun + maybe a few more rounds after?
anon..i love this idea. i know im gonna have so much fun writing this. thank you for your request!!! <3
₊˚ෆ let me have you ₊˚ෆ
↬ jeong jaehyun
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𓍯 pairing- nonidolbf!jaehyun x fem reader, established relationship, sweetdom!jaehyun x sub reader
𓍯 warnings- shower sex, unprotected sex(u alr know), multiple rounds, riding, lazy sex, dirty talk( jaehyun skhskwhsbsbwvam), multiple creampies, pet names (reader is called baby), needy reader & jaehyun, kissing, they are too horny bye, lmk what else
𓍯 a/n- im so sorry this is literally so late… I HOPE YOH LIKE (i was feral when i wrote this so im sorry if it is crazy idek.. lmk what u think)
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you and jaehyun have been running around all day non stop. finishing errands you needed to get done. finally getting home around 7pm. both of you exhausted wanting to get into bed quickly.
of course jaehyun suggested you two shower together. so that’s exactly what you were doing. his hands were quick to start roaming your body.
“you look so beautiful.” he whispers in your ear as his hand rubs against your thigh. “jaehyun please.” a smirk against his lips as he kisses against your neck.
“tell me what you want baby.” his hand parting your legs as you grips your hip with his other hand. “touch me. i need you.”
his kisses against your neck are now sloppy as you feel his thumb against your clit as he pushes two fingers inside you.
“oh- jaehyun please more.” his smirk hasn’t left his lips. “you feeling greedy baby? want my dick already?” his fingers speeding up as he watches your eyes fall shut at the feeling.
“don’t you want to cum baby?” he teases as he slows his fingers. “i w-want to cum with you- fuck please.” he smiles pulling you into a kiss.
pulling his fingers out of you but not stopping his thumb against your clit. his other hand grabbing his dick. stopping his thumb to wrap your leg around his waist.
“look at me.” he says grabbing your face to keep eye contact with him. his dick slowly pushing inside of you.
“yeah- fuck baby. you’re so good for me.” your moans and whimpers already flowing out of you as he starts to rock his hips into you. the warm water against your bodies making your mind hazy.
his mouth is sucking your neck. he leaves nips against your shoulder, receiving a loud moan from you. the pace of his hips making you squirm. he grabs ahold of your hair making you kiss him.
your hips rolling to meet his thrusts. “yeah baby you like that? you’re so fucking wet.” he says with a small laugh, disbelief as he watches your eyes start to roll back. “my pretty girl gonna cum?” his voice almost making you cum.
“jaehyun p-please.” he grabs your neck with his free hand, gently pulling you into a kiss. “want my cum baby? tell me.” his tone shifting as you look at his eyes.
his dark eyes piercing you with lust as he grabs you hip to rock with his thrusts. “please cum in m-me oh fuck. i’m coming!” his mouth against your nipple sending you over the edge as you clench around him.
“yeah- fuck you take it so well baby.” you coming undone all over his dick. his hips stuttering shortly after. he comes so deep inside you, painting your walls as his hips sloppily milk his cum in you.
“you’re gonna be the death of me fuck y/n.” his hips slowing down as he pulls you into another kiss. “want to ride you so bad jae-“ he’s pulling his dick out of you slowly with a smile.
“anything you want baby.” he smiles as you two finally finishing washing your bodies. not like its gonna matter that you showered. he’s guiding you out the shower as he dries the two of you off. “come here baby.”
he says as he sits back against your headboard. you climbing onto his lap as quick as you could. “such a needy girl. come on baby you gonna let me have you? want you to be mine only. show me.”
his dirty talk going straight to your pussy as you line up his dick with your entrance. his hands immediately going to your hips as you kiss him softly. you rubbing against him painfully slow for the both of you.
“fuck baby don’t t-tease fuuck.” you stopping his thoughts as you lower yourself onto him. “feel so good jaehyun.” your eyes rolling back as you start to move your hips, jaehyun’s hands on your hips guiding you.
“just like that- fuck baby you’re so perfect for me.” both of your moans filling the room. “jaehyun- so deep- i can’t!” he shakes his head.
“take it baby shit- you gonna cum pretty?” one of his hands neglecting your hip to fondle your breast.
“want you to cum for me. make a pretty mess. can you do that for me?” his hips now fucking up to meet your movements.
“fuck you don’t know how hard it was for me not to fuck you in the car. you would’ve liked that huh? the possibility of someone seeing me fuck you so good. s-shit.”
you’re clenching around him as your hips stop their movements. his hips now fucking up into you as he hits the spot you need. you moaning out almost coming then.
“right there baby? you look so fucking pretty.” his words making you cum instantly. “f-fuck you’re so tight.” he lets out a deep groan as his load fills you. you fall against his chest as you try to catch your breath.
“you okay baby? you think i can get another round out of you?” you nod mindlessly as he lifts you off of his lap.
“you’re doing the work, my legs are burning.” he just laughs as he positions himself the lay behind you. he opens your legs, you feel his dick rub your slit teasingly.
“jaehyun- don’t tease please.” he leaves a few kisses against your neck. “you’re so impatient baby.” he laughs as he pushes his dick inside you. the third time you’re feeling this stretch. you’re not complaining though.
“fuck me jaehyun oh-“ his hips rolling into you slowly as he releases low grunts and groans into your ear. “you are fucking m-made for me baby.” his words making your arousal practically flow out of you.
“you’re so wet- im sliding right in baby.” you are so far gone now. his dick hitting the perfect spot over and over. his dirty talk and moans are intoxicating. you are so far gone you didn’t even get to warn as you came all over his dick.
“fuck- im coming. so fucking messy baby.” his dick twitches inside you as load fills you again. you moaning at the feeling of him fucking you through your highs.
“take it all- fuck you’re so perfect baby.” he pulls your face back slightly to kiss your lips. pulling out of you slowly him getting up to grab a rag to clean you. him coming back with the rag. cleaning you softly as he plants kisses around your body.
“you’re so pretty.” you blush smiling at him. he smiles pulling you into another kiss before finishing cleaning you up. climbing next to you to pull you into his arms.
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urhoneycombwitch · 7 months
Text
imagine being loved by me
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🍯 honey flavour: your love has stood the test of time, thus far, but a party fit for a rockstar brings up some bitter emotions.
🐝 the bees: rockstar!Eddie x jealous!Reader
wc: 8k
cw: drugs and alcohol consumption, mentions of weight gain (eddie’s, in a positive manner), R has panic/anxiety attack, jealousy (talked about and resolved tho), softdom!Reader, softdom!Eddie, oral (E and R receiving), R has breasts + a V and referred to with she/her pronouns, P in V sex, cumming inside w/out protection
foreword: timeline is wobbly and may not align perfectly w canon bc I’m bad at math so shhhh suspend ur disbelief. based on this anon thank you v much anon <3
___
It’s the coldest January Hawkins has seen in ages. Snow banks sit high on the roadsides, air thick with snowflakes, three-AM fog brought in courtesy of the bitter wind chill. 
Under the yellow floodlight of a nearby streetlamp, your boyfriend is sucking down the last of a joint while you stamp your feet against the gravel parking lot.
“C’mon, Eddie,” you whine, crossing the arms of your fleeced puffer jacket, bouncing on your heels to keep the blood flowing. “My toes are gonna get frostbite.”
“A touch dramatic,” Eddie replies, unbothered. The cherry of the joint between his lips burns orange, casting a warm glow over Eddie’s cheekbones, the twinkle of snowflakes caught in his bangs. “I told you to go in without me, princess. Warmer in there.”
“Without you? As if.” You pull the pity card, and it works, ‘cuz it always does- that boy has got to learn how to say no to you, one of these days. 
Not today, though, because Eddie is tamping out the ember on the sole of his boot and crunching up the snowy path to sling an arm around your neck.
“Grub time,” he says against your hair, pressing his cold lips to the side of your forehead as you both make your way into Benny’s Burgers.
The heated air is a welcome relief, and save for a couple of old-timers at a side table, you and Eddie are the only customers in the place. 
Benny greets you both from where he’s flipping patties on the kitchen grill, waving a spatula at the corner booth- “All yours, kiddos. Want the usual?”
You and Eddie call out affirmatives as you sink into opposing seats, unwrapping yourselves from all your winter gear as you go.
“God bless Benny Hammond for expanding his night hours,” you say, piling your green scarf on the tabletop. “This is a good tradition for us, y’know. Post-band practice smoking and coffee- very rock and roll.”
“I concur.” Eddie tosses his knit hat at you playfully. “You, my lady, have the most rock ‘n roll soul I ever did see.”
As Benny approaches with two mugs of steaming coffee, you muse aloud, “Not sure if the amount of sugar you’re about to dump in your coffee is very metal, per se...”
“Y’hear that, Benny?” Eddie grabs a fistful of sugar packets and shakes them indignantly. “My girl’s trying to keep me on the straight and narrow. How’s a rockstar s’posed to live in these conditions?”
“Lord knows,” Benny says, sardonic, setting the mugs down and turning back to the kitchen.
Eddie winces as his hands wrap around the heat of the mug, and you notice right away. “Your fingers splitting again? I have that salve that you used last time, but it’s back at the trailer.”
He puts his hand face-up onto the table, and you slip yours into his, the deep fingertip grooves from guitar strings rough against your soft palm.
“I’ll live. Plus, it’s kind of metal, right?” Eddie runs a calloused thumb across the back of your hand.
You squeeze back, give him a wink. “Very metal.”
Eddie’s been working himself to the bone lately. Trying to stay in school and not drop out is a feat in itself, but compounded with the band practices that have only ramped up in length recently, it’s a lot to balance.
He hasn’t complained at all, of course. It’s not really in his nature.
In the past few weeks, however, he’s been imbued with this near-manic energy, a renewed sense of purpose. In between your own fitful sleeps you often wake in the early hours of the morning to find Eddie hunched over his desk, pen flying across his notebook as he reworks an old song or outlines a new one. Not that you weren’t proud of him before, but seeing him apply this newfound passion to his music has been a huge source of joy for you. 
And, if you’re being really honest, also a major turn on. I mean, the boy’s got swagger like no other, and you’re so glad he’s finally utilizing it on stage. Even if that stage is in the middle of a piece of shit dive bar. Still counts, in your book.
Benny drops off baskets of hot fries, a burger for Eddie, and a BLT for you. Methodic and familiar, you offload half your fries to Eddie’s basket as he slides his burger towards you for the first bite. 
After a few minutes of peaceful eating, Eddie balls up a napkin in his fist and raps the table with his knuckles. “So, uh. Kind of have some news.”
You slot the ketchup bottle back into its metal holder and look up with raised brows. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” He looks suddenly nervous, knee knocking into the underside of the table as he bounces his leg compulsively. “You remember Paige Warner? Graduated in ‘81, brother is a baseball jock?”
When you nod, Eddie blows out a breath- his unease is kind of setting you on edge. 
“What about Paige Warner?” you prompt.
“She moved out to L.A. for a job and she’s working this scouting gig for some bigshot record,” he continues, absently pulling the thin napkin in his hands into pieces, staring vacantly at the mess. “And she wants Corroded Coffin to record and send out a demo to the label.”
As the news sinks in, your jaw drops. “Holy shit. What?”
“Yeah.” Eddie’s fidgeting with the paper scraps now, still not making eye contact with you. “She wants us to start recording next week. I haven’t told anyone else, yet, I wanted to make sure you were the first-”
You interrupt him with an excited little squeal (drawing glares from the old guys across the diner) and shove up from your side of the table to throw your arms around Eddie.
“Holy shit,” you repeat, laughing as Eddie pulls you into his lap- “Eddie, that’s amazing!”
“You think so?” he asks, your enthusiasm allowing his own to creep in; He slides his hands to your denim-clad hips, his self-professed favorite stress toy (well, tied for favorite with your thighs). 
“How come you were so nervous to tell me?” You ask him, gently, tucking his dark hair behind his ears so you can see his face better. “Were you thinking I’d react differently?”
He looks up at you wide-eyed, shakes his head- “No, no, I wasn’t worried about you reacting a certain way. I just… I’m just worried about what this’ll mean. You know. For us.”
“Us?” You echo, encouraging him to continue. 
Eddie squeezes at your hips, presses the crown of his head against your collarbone like he’s mustering up the courage to speak. “Yeah, us. I know L.A. isn’t your dream- shit, I don’t even know if it’s mine- but you didn’t sign up to go on the road like this. You’ve got college to consider, and-”
“So I’ll take a gap year,” you interrupt, putting a hand to his cheek to make him look at you again, and when he starts to protest, you talk over him. “No, Eddie, I’m serious. I don’t know what the hell I wanna do with my life yet anyways. Following my hot rockstar boyfriend to a new town sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
He shakes his head again, and you can feel his dimples spring to life under your hand as he teases, “Gonna be my little groupie?”
“And more,” you confirm, giving him a kiss (chaste, so as not to invoke any more ire from the grumpy other customers) and sliding off his lap to return to your own seat. “I’ll be your assistant extraordinaire, if you want. Or bodyguard. Make sure none of the other groupie chicks get too close.”
Eddie rolls his eyes, fondly. “You’re the only groupie I need, sweetheart.”
Settling back into your respective seats, you both work on the last basket of fries while chatting genially about the future. Eddie mentions getting an apartment in Los Angeles, so there’s less of a commute, which branches the conversation into the logistics of a cross-country move, and then on to more important topics such as the alleged coolness of west-coast parties. 
“Who’s your celebrity hall pass?” you ask, out of pure interest, dipping a fry into the well of ketchup. “Like, say you’re rubbing elbows at some famous muckety-muck’s party and someone catches your eye. Who’re you taking back to the motel for a slutty roll in the hay?”
Eddie snickers at your phrasing, then says, “I mean, preferably, my super hot girlfriend-”
You throw a fry at his head. “That’s such a cop-out answer. In this hypothetical, Joan Jett is in red leather petting up on you and you’re saying you wouldn’t take her up on a one-night stand?”
A laugh bursts out of Eddie, a real, proper one where he throws his head back. “Are you actively encouraging me to hook up with some bimbo at a random party? Without you? Unlikely scenario on all fronts, babe.”
This earns him another launched fry, and he squawks, trying to shake it out of its place caught in his hair as you reprimand him- “Joan Jett is not some bimbo, watch your mouth! And what I’m saying is, if you didn’t at least try to score us a threesome with her, I’d be pissed.”
“Okay, baby,” Eddie soothes you a tad derisively, likely a ploy to avoid more flying food- “if I meet Joan Jett I will do my level best to get her in our bed. Scout’s honor.”
He holds up two fingers and wiggles them obscenely, grinning when you laugh again. “All right, Nosey McGee. Who are you taking home from the party?”
You hum, eyes flicking up to the ceiling, contemplating the options. “I guess I could be talked into a night with Kirk Hammett.”
Eddie’s turn to launch a fry. “You slut,” he chuckles, “That was a way quicker answer than mine.”
“Okay, fine. If I meet Kirk Hammett, I promise to at least make a bid for threesome. Deal?” You extend your pinkie across the table.
Eddie loops his little finger into yours. “Deal.”
____
The memory of that cozy diner evening years ago fades as you shake yourself to the present.
You aren’t two highschool kids with lofty dreams, anymore- after Eddie’s recovery from all that Upside Down bullshit in ‘86, Corroded Coffin took off. Even though Paige didn’t end up coming through with any deals, Eddie and his bandmates fought like hell to get signed- and by the end of that year, a small record label in the heart of downtown Chicago had taken the bait.
Corroded Coffin turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to Arken Records; by the spring of ‘87, business was booming thanks to the help of Corroded’s debut album, The Banished Ones- their new single was a chart-topper for over 6 weeks. (Smash Hit magazine’s latest review was titled “Fresh Sound Rises from Dirt Nowhere.” You have the paper clipping saved in your ever-growing folder with “rockstar boyfriend!!!” handwritten in black ink.) 
And in a few weeks, the band will set off on their first real tour, starting in Chicago and ending with a bang in an already sold-out show in Hawkins- Dustin, Steve, and the rest of the gang with VIP front-row seats, of course. 
As much as you and Eddie have grown and matured in the past few years, the core of you both has remained the same. Eddie is still just as dorky, goofy, and caring as he always has been, while you’ve kept that tenacious spirit and quick wit that he fell in love with back in the early days of dating. Even now, with his popularity rising and his rockstar dreams on their way to coming true, Eddie constantly brings his focus back to you. 
Pillow talks in cushy hotel beds, late night ramblings over post-show whiskeys, holding hands in the back of yet another cab- when he could be talking about the thousands of exciting things happening in his own life, Eddie is asking about you.
Did you talk to Robin last night, sweetheart? How’s ‘ol Birdie doin? What do you wanna wear to that dinner thingy tomorrow… could go naked for all I care. In fact you probably should because of feminism and all that. Did you sleep okay last night? Let me look at ya. You thinkin’ any more about those applications you got?
You’d taken a gap year to support Eddie, which you were happy to do, but with ‘87 drawing to a close, he’s been more insistent lately that you take a look at all your college options. Honestly, you’ve been enjoying the adventures that come with touring way too much to consider going back to the rigidity of school. 
And plus, having the love of your life nearly bleed out in your arms in a parallel dimension has totally realigned your priorities. If folks thought you and Eddie were attached at the hip before… 
He’ll likely argue you into academia, eventually. He always rolls high on persuasion. Damn him.
For now, you’ve got a party to attend. 
Arken Records is playing host, on the last night of 1987- in celebration of Corroded Coffin’s success and to kick off the New Year’s festivities, they’ve rented out a house in east Chicago for the event. 
Well, house isn’t the right word. More like mansion. Vaulted ceilings tall as a church’s, huge windows overlooking the Chicago river, a grand chandelier with flickering candles in nearly every room. 
When you and Eddie had toured the place a few days previous, he’d made a joking complaint low in your ear about not having the time to fuck you on every surface. Your laugh had reverberated off the sweeping mahogany floorboards, mostly at the expense of Eddie’s poor publicist who’d happened to hear his comment. (Melanie had really been putting in overtime lately; you made a mental note to send her a very nice flower arrangement and vouchers for a spa trip.)
The party was in full swing by the time you and Eddie arrived, fashionably late, and he had been folded into the throng of other musicians and partygoers against his will pretty much immediately- which you’d expected. The last hour, he’s been throwing you piteous looks from his spot across the room, where he hasn’t had the chance to move an inch with the amount of people keeping the conversation going. You’ve slipped to his side a few times, refreshing his drink, letting him curl an arm around your waist as you perch on his knee, only half-focused on whatever story some producer is saying as Eddie’s hand trails up your thigh. 
You’re back on the nearest wall again, sipping champagne, taking it all in. There are probably over a hundred people crammed into this banquet room, bass thumping through the floorboards, tables shoved to the outer corners making space for a makeshift dance space. 
The air is hazy with smoke from various cigarettes and joints; as the night has progressed, the smell of freshly-applied cologne has been replaced with heady sweat as the dance floor calls more people to writhe and grind in groups and partners. Eddie is still stuck in the lone pod of living room chairs, surrounded by a rapt audience of people crammed in to hear him better over the blaring music.
He looks damn good tonight, in a cut-off black tee and his favorite ripped jeans, leather jacket hung on the chair behind him. Silver catches the light from every angle- on the chains at his hips, around his neck, glinting off his rings as he gestures animatedly mid-story. He’d asked you to do his eyeliner at the hotel earlier, and although it’s smudged and blurred at the edges now he’s still pulling it off. Tiny silver stars, hand-drawn with your eyeshadow brush, twinkle across his cheeks like freckles.
Eddie wanted to match with you, whined until you added a belt made of gold-plated stars to your outfit. You went simple, the gold to his silver- belt cinching your short black satin slip dress, delicate brass rings and bracelets around your fingers and bare forearms. The one piece of silver you are wearing is a chain around your neck, Eddie’s guitar pick nestled snug between your breasts. 
You still resolutely refuse to wear heels, even after Eddie’s stylist cajoled you into practicing on stilettos for a disastrous media training session last month- tonight you’re in a chic pair of Mary Janes with the slightest suggestion of a heel. Compromise. 
There’s a big laugh from the crowd in the corner again as Eddie knocks a hand into Gareth’s chest for emphasis, nearly knocking the younger boy off his seat. You stare unabashedly at Eddie’s forearms, biceps on full display; he’s filled out a bit since leaving home, his usually lean frame boasting a bit more weight and bulk now that he’s got consistent access to well-rounded meals. 
He’s looking healthy, down right glowy. You’re thinking about that smattered trail of dark hair that slides down the crest of his stomach, now with extra padding enough to sink your teeth into. As if he knows, Eddie catches your eye from across the room and winks, cheekily. 
You shiver and unconsciously press your thighs together, hiding your grin with another swallow of champagne.
The alcohol turns a bit sour going down, though, as a crimped-haired blonde girl worms her way to Eddie’s side, laughing a little too loudly at the joke he just told. When she places a manicured hand on one of his shoulders, the thin stem of your glass nearly snaps in your grip.
The thing about rockstars is they have crazy sex appeal. The thing about your rockstar is he’s only interested in you, something that has been proved many times over.
So why is tonight hitting you so hard? Why do you feel nauseous the longer Eddie lets some random woman’s hand stay on his bare skin when you know he’s going home with you, and only you?
Maybe it’s the alcohol, or the overcrowded room, or the memories of Benny’s diner still lingering like a bruise in your mind. Hard to pinpoint exactly. All you know is that jealousy is gnawing like a thing raw and seeking in the pit of your stomach, and if you don’t get out of this stuffy room soon you’re gonna do something tabloid-worthy, like cry in the middle of a New Year’s Eve party.
By the grace of some god you make it across the dance floor and into a side bathroom unscathed, the pulsing sound of the party blissfully dimming as you shut the door behind you. Your mind whirls as you grip the gilded sink for stability, blinking hard at the tears beginning to form. 
You love having a boyfriend who’s larger than life. You love that he’s taking up space and getting to use that charm that was nurtured on the DM throne back in Hawkins. You’re so proud of him, you really are. 
You’re just starting to hate the way other people’s surface-level love of him makes you feel.
Because that’s what it is, right? Just surface-level, you reason with yourself- the level of intimacy that you and Eddie have is unmatched, something that the newly-formed masses of admirers won’t ever get to experience.
Christ, can jealousy give you hives? You grab a handful of paper towels and soak them in cold tap water, then press the damp bundle to your chest, breath stuttering.
You’ve never been the jealous type, or the overbearing type- it’s a new feeling, and maybe that’s why it feels so scary. The more you try to tamp it down, the more it rears its ugly head, making you, in turn, feel embarrassed for having such a strong reaction in the first place.
It’s a vicious cycle that’s only seeming to gain speed as you realize you haven’t yet managed a full breath since coming to your hiding spot. Your lungs are pinched and burning as you drop the soggy paper into the sink, leaning into the lip of the porcelain to steady yourself.
There’s a knock on the door, and you choke out “Just a minute”, not sure if the person on the other side can even hear you over the music when Eddie’s voice leaks through.
“Baby? That you in there?”
Against your better judgment, you open the door, and he crams in the small space, locking it again behind himself.
“There you are, I saw you leave and thought you were getting a drink or something but then you didn’t come back and- are you okay?”
He interrupts his own stream of consciousness when he notices the state you’re in. You give him a trembly smile, waving a hand dismissively.
“Yeah, all good. I’ll come back with you, just needed to pee.”
Eddie is not so easily thrown off the scent. He murmurs your name, sliding his hand into yours, looking at you with a wounded puppy gaze- fuck, you can’t have a breakdown. Not here, not on New Year’s in some knockoff-Playboy’s bathroom.
And certainly not in front of Eddie, who’s asking you to tell him what’s wrong, what happened, with an increasingly pleading tone that’s really, really not helping your whole Don’t Cry agenda. 
Hoping your voice doesn’t break, you clear your throat and pull your hand from his grasp. “Nothing happened, okay? I just had too much to drink, feeling overly sentimental or something. I’m okay.”
You think your white lie was convincing enough when Eddie reaches back for the door handle, that maybe he’ll rejoin the party and leave you to have a good cry, but after poking his head out the doorway briefly he grabs onto your wrist, tugging you to his side and hissing “Quick!”
And then you’re both making a break for it down the mostly-empty hallway, Eddie pulling you smoothly past a wall of expensive-looking oil paintings before going through a set of double doors that lead to the outside.
It’s December in Chicago, which means a light layer of snow covers the terraced garden that Eddie is leading you through, stopping at a stone bench flanked by two scraggly bushes. 
“Made it,” he huffs with exertion, dropping your hand to shrug his leather jacket off in favor of draping it around your own shoulders.
“You’re gonna be cold,” you sniffle, partly from the tears, partly from the crisp night air.
“Yeah,” he agrees easily, wrapping you in a hug. You press your forehead to his chest. “Got my girl to keep me warm, though.”
You stay like this for a few moments, his arms solid around you, breaths coming easier as the familiar smell of his tangy skin and that spicy bar soap he uses fills your senses.
“You gonna tell me what’s wrong?” he asks, gently, holding you at arm’s length to study your face.
When you shrug, unsure of where to start, he lets go of you and walks backwards, taking an unflinching seat on the snow-covered bench.
You gasp despite yourself, reaching to pull him up even as he twists out of your grasp- “Eddie, jesus, you’re literally gonna freeze your ass off. Get up!”
But he’s solid in his seat, widening his stance, boots planted on the ground- “I’m not moving until you tell me what’s going on in that head of yours, so you better start talking before my jeans freeze to the concrete.”
“It’s nothing,” you insist, but he’s giving you that look again, the one that cracks through the tough exterior every time, and you wrap your arms around yourself under the warmth of his jacket as you admit, “Okay, fine. It’s something. I’m just… having an overreaction.”
“To the shellfish?” he deadpans.
“No, asshole, to the blonde girl who was rubbing up on you earlier,” you snap.
Eddie blinks, genuine confusion in his voice- “There was a blonde girl… rubbing up on me?”
“She was petting your shoulder,” you continue, scuffing the toe of your shoe against the ground. “She was touching you, and I got- jealous, I guess.”
“Baby, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t remember her, at all,” Eddie emphasizes, spreading a palm flat against his chest in a gesture of sincerity, hair shifting across his shoulders as he cocks his head to the side.
His face is too familiar, too earnest for you to be able to say what you’re feeling without bursting into tears, so you turn on your heel, pacing a short loop in front of the bench, your breath hanging in misty clouds as you speak. 
“It’s not even about her, necessarily. It’s about me and my stupid emotions. I’m not usually like this- jealous, you know? Like, I’m so proud of you, and everything you’ve accomplished, and I don’t mind sharing you, really I don’t, it’s just…”
You pause in your pacing, let your head drop back to look at the inky black sky pinpricked with stars, and your next words fall out like a confession.
“I just feel like I’m in mourning.”
You can feel his eyes on you still, as you loose the feeling that’s been caught tight in your chest. “It sounds so dramatic, when I say it like that. But I think that’s what it is. I miss when it was just the two of us, in this little bubble where no one knew our names and we just had each other.”
As the words leave your mouth, you scramble to explain, to soften the blow, hands tightening around your upper arms as you turn back to face the boy on the bench. “And I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, or, like, a total jealous bitch, because I really love you and I hope you know I’m not- are you laughing?”
Eddie tries his best to stifle the laughter into his fist when he sees how indignant you look. He rises from the bench, still a bit mirthful, pulling you back into his space. “Sorry, honey, I’m not making fun of you, I promise.”
You’re glaring at him now, and he ducks to kiss at the lines between your brow before pulling back and saying, “I think what you’re feeling is normal, and I don’t think you’re overreacting at all. Remember that asshole at the Smith Center party who kept trying to get your number right in front of me?”
“Vaguely.”
“I wanted to punch his lights out. Make a real scene, kiss you sloppy in front of some cameras.” Eddie cups your face in his hands, soothing his thumb against the wetness of your lashline. “What I’m saying is, I get jealous, too. And I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”
“But…” there’s a well of emotions that you’re drawing from, and it’s not empty yet, one nagging thought still surfacing. “But these girls that are coming on to you, they’re like… really hot. I don’t look anything like them.”
Eddie frowns. “Are you seriously trying to make a case for yourself on the grounds of not being really hot? That’s not gonna hold up in court, gorgeous. I mean… have you even looked in a mirror recently?”
He lightly taps his knuckle against your head, trying to get you to crack a smile, but you’re not ready to give in yet. 
“You don’t think you’ll get bored of me?” you whisper, dropping your eyes from his consuming gaze to the wyvern inked on the inside of his arm. 
“Sweetheart…” Eddie sounds genuinely pained. The ink in his skin stretches as he slips a hand to the back of your neck, cold rings against your skin making you shiver. “I couldn’t ever get bored of you. Not in a million years. We've been through too much together for you to think like that, hm?”
He strokes his thumb down the column of your neck, those doey brown eyes on you again. “Now I’m not saying you shouldn’t ever be jealous, ‘cuz god knows it makes me hot under the collar when you are. But I’m sayin’ I never wanna make you feel like you need to earn me, okay?”
His thumb tracks back up to the hollow of your jaw, taps twice questioningly, and you nod, letting out a shaky, “Okay.”
When he kisses you, it feels like every other time- comfortable, grounding, familiar. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips, and you let him lick into your mouth, gripping at his arms, flushing hot as you give it back to him in spades.
With a short groan, he pulls back, a wet click as your mouths separate- “As much as I wanna jump your bones in this wintry wonderland, I think the snow might’ve actually frozen my balls off.”
You giggle, spanning your hands around the meat of his waist, kissing up into his mouth again- “Poor baby. Want me to warm ‘em up in my mouth?”
He gives a solid smack to your ass for that, his palm smoothing over the stinging skin with condescension when you yelp- “All dish and no take, baby? Not exactly fair.”
____
Despite your weak protestations that you both should probably rejoin the party, at least until midnight, Eddie insists on taking you back to the hotel. 
“This party blows, anyways,” he says over his shoulder to you as he leads you back through the halls of the house. “If I hear one more Tears for Fears track I might throw myself into the river from one of the hundred balconies in this place.”
He manages to track down Melanie with some effort, winding his way through the throng of people to where she’d been chatting with a reporter, plucking at her elbow to get her away from the crowd and into the quieter hallway with you.  
“We gotta scoot, Mel,” he tells her, really hamming up the charm as the young publicist widens her eyes. “Think you can get us a ride outta here?”
“Mr. Munson, you can’t just leave,” Melanie insists, frazzled. “Someone from Rolling Stone has been waiting for the last hour to talk to you, if you could just-”
“No can do.” Eddie shakes his head, mock-apologetic. “There’s been an accident. Of a personal nature.”
You manage to choke down your laughter as Eddie turns around to show off the dark stains on the back of his jeans. They’re just wet from the snow that he sat in earlier, of course, but it looks convincing enough to make Melanie blanch and pinch the bridge of her nose.
“I’ll have a cab out front in ten for you both. Please keep a low profile until then.”
Eddie gives a sharp salute and you mouth an apology at her before she retreats to find a phone.
Okay, so maybe add a hefty bonus to that Nice Things for Melanie list of yours. 
____
One of the perks of having a rockstar for a boyfriend is the sweet digs- the label shelled out for Chicago’s finest penthouse suite; an entire luxurious upper floor with a private elevator, windows overlooking the far-below city lights, and a sunken bath big enough for two.
Also included? Soundproof walls.
A perk you’re very grateful for as Eddie walks you backwards into the room, sucking a mark with stinging teeth into your neck as you moan, then giggle breathily, admonishing- “Christ, Eddie, slow down. We have all night.”
Eddie pulls back just far enough to frown down at you, his hands slipping under the hem of your dress to squeeze at your ass. His rings are cold against your bare flesh, and he grins when you shiver. “Uh huh. Sure do have all night. You gonna take advantage of that?”
He wiggles his eyebrows, cheekily, but that smirk drops from his face in record time the second you shove him to the bed. As his knees give out in favor of sitting on the mattress, you steady your hands against his broad shoulders to swing yourself into his lap.
Eddie’s looking up at you, cinnamon eyes darkened with lust- it makes your stomach flip something awful. Your skin feels alight with heat as Eddie’s hands drip like water down your sides, then to your parted thighs.
You sigh into his mouth as his fingers trace the front of your underwear, the silk sticky with your arousal.
“Oh, baby,” Eddie says, equal parts admonishment and pitying as you squirm into his touch. “What’s got you this worked up, hm?”
He’s asking like he doesn’t know- like he didn’t tease you with filthy whispers and wandering hands in the back of the car the whole way here. 
“Whaddya think,” you scoff, not quite ready to give in yet, enjoying the thrill of being cagey as Eddie hooks a finger to tuck your panties to the side.
He grins, simmering, enjoying the chase just as much as you. His middle finger swipes through your folds and you shudder in his arms, hands tightening into the meat of his shoulders as he brings the wetness up to your clit.
Eddie rubs quick, steady circles until you’re mewling, bucking hips grinding down to seek more friction. You can feel the wetness seeping out of your core, dampening his jeans as he licks back into your mouth, capturing the soft noises you’re making as he winds you up.
“Can’t believe a pretty thing like you has anything to be jealous of.” Eddie noses at the spot under your jaw, and when you let your head fall back on a hinge to grant him access, he sucks another mark into the column of your throat. “‘M all yours, sweetheart. You gonna take what’s yours?”
Truth be told, your mind went fuzzy the second Eddie got his hands on your clit, the consistent build of pleasure sparking between your legs rather distracting. You’d almost forgotten how the night had started, but you let the jealousy and possessiveness creep back in as you push at Eddie’s chest.
He goes down easily, toeing his boots off and lying flat on the mattress; big hands settle on your waist as you rest your weight into him, warm cunt pressing against the bulge of his clothed cock.
At a light drag of your nails against his bare chest and across his nipple, Eddie groans low, squeezing your hips and rucking into you.
“You’re all mine, Eddie, right?” 
His pupils nearly eclipsing their soft brown irises, Eddie stares up at you like you hang the moon and stars every night just for him. “Yeah, sweetheart. ‘M all yours. Lemme show you.”
Eddie pulls at the backs of your legs, helping you shuffle up his body until your knees are dipping into the mattress at either side of his head. Your core hovers just above Eddie’s mouth- you can feel his breath speed up on the inside of your thigh at this new position. 
“Oh, fuck, Eddie- jesus… christ,” the last word ending in a moan as Eddie’s tongue licks a wet stripe through your folds. 
He pulls you closer with an arm over each thigh until you’re sitting on his face, his nose hitting your clit with each tilt of his head. You’ve got no idea how he’s able to breathe down there but you’re hardly able to hold onto that thought when his tongue has started plunging in and out of you.
Automatically, your hands shoot out to stabilize yourself- one hand goes to the headboard and the other ends up in his hair, gripping the roots hard. Eddie groans, sending vibrations that make your cunt clench around his lithe tongue.
“Like the taste of my pussy, baby?” you coo down at him, regaining some of your breath to give him attitude. 
Reaching a hand back to palm at his cock, you say “No one else can have you like this, hm?”
Eddie catches your eyes as he mouths wetly at your clit, then sucks it into his mouth. Your thighs shake around his ears, your orgasm unfurling in clenching ripples.
“Oh, yeah, Eddie, fuck, I’m coming- just like that, fuck fuck fuck…”
He doesn’t stop suckling at you until you’re gushing around his mouth, then pulling him off by his hair to make him stop.
Eddie heaves in a breath, kissing at the inside of your thigh, his lips and chin shiny with your release. “God, baby. Such pretty noises for me.”
“Mhm.” You shuffle down until your hips are aligned over his, then lean in to lick his mouth clean. “Gonna make some pretty ones for me, now?”
After helping pull his shirt off, Eddie whines softly as you press kisses down his bare chest, and by the time your mouth is pressing over that dark trail of hair that leads into his denim, Eddie’s begging.
“Please, angel, please- need your mouth. Do anything for it, baby, please…”
You rub your cheek against his bulge before pulling back to pop the button on his jeans, then help him shift them down and off his body. Once his black briefs join the growing pile of floor clothes, Eddie’s completely bare and at your mercy.
He gets on his elbows to watch as you mouth at the inside of his thigh, dark hair splayed around his shoulders, chest heaving when you ignore his leaking cock in favor of grazing your teeth against a sensitive spot. “Fuckin’- christ, sweetheart. Come on. Please?”
“Sound pretty when you beg,” you say, mildly, kissing across his heavy sack, hiding a smile when the contact makes him jolt. “Gonna do it some more?”
You keep eye contact as you take one of his balls into your mouth, watching his own eyes roll back so far you can see the whites of them as you use your tongue on him. 
“-yeah, baby, yeah- just like that- fucking, fuck, you’re killin’ me…”
Eddie sounds wrecked already, and a hot flush of pride courses through your body at the knowledge that he could come from just this and it’d be you getting him there. 
You mouth over to the other side of his sack, rolling the skin wiry with coarse hair against your tongue as Eddie moans above you. When your hand wraps around the base of his cock, starting to move in tandem with the pull of your mouth, Eddie makes a noise like he’s been punched.
A line of drool breaks and hits wet against your chin as you straighten up, settling yourself into the V of his legs and using his thighs as handholds while you begin to kiss up the line of his leaking cock.
He’s got a gorgeous dick, truly. Thick and long, curving slightly to the right, a pretty blue vein snaking up the underside that you lathe your tongue against, seeking out the salty brine at the ruddy head.
Eddie moans, brokenly, white-knuckled hands twisting into the sheets. When your mouth closes around the tip, his elbows give out, leaving him flat against the mattress as you work his length further in.
“Oh my god. Oh, fuck, baby. Please don’t stop. Please. Y’feel so good…”
You hum around the stretch of him in your mouth, relaxing your throat to draw him in a bit more. The spiky jealousy from earlier really is your biggest motivator here; covetous, you’re thinking back to all those first times with Eddie- trembling hands under your bedsheets back in Hawkins, stilted voices and giggles to cover up the awkwardness of trying to learn the other person’s body.
No one will ever know him like you do. No one will ever have all that shared history, those fumbling nights that slowly turned to lovesick days; memories of him on his knees for you, learning all the little things that make you tick, memorizing the song of your body.
The boy is all yours. 
Your throat automatically constricts at the intrusion of Eddie’s cock slipping past your soft palate- his hips cant up, which you can hardly fault him for, patient as he’s been with your retrospective and teasing.
Before he can apologize you’re sitting up, wiping at the excess drool with the back of your hand and shucking your dress over your head, letting it and your belt fall to the floor with a soft clunk.
Eddie reaches for you again as you slide your panties down and off, and you let him help you up his body, your knees coming to rest alongside the lightly raised scar tissue at his sides. You stroke a hand down his chest, giving in to a moment of softness before seating yourself fully in Eddie’s lap.
His hands snap to your hips, a near-brutal squeeze as you sink onto his cock. The stretch is always an adjustment, but you’re so wet right now that he slides in easily, a breathy moan from the both of you as the walls of your cunt fit snug around his sizeable length.
“Fuck, you’re perfect.” The crown of Eddie’s head is pressed back into the bed, veins in his taut neck on full display as your hips start to swivel, blunt nails scraping into the soft flesh of your waist. “Just like that, sweetheart. Fuck me.”
With your knees planted on either side of his body, you begin to bounce in steady, rhythmic earnest, going for gold, the desire to bring your boy to the babbling edge overtaking every other thought.
“Feel so good, Eds, so big… can barely fit…” There’s a wet squelch accompanying each bounce now, slick dripping down to the base of his cock, your vice of a cunt flexing with every movement.
“S’all you, baby,” Eddie rasps out, toes curling in the efforts to keep his orgasm at bay for awhile longer. “Got a perfect pussy. Takin’ me so well.”
He’s almost in delirium territory, with you chasing after that bright unwinding pleasure at both of your cores; your hips stutter, hands flat on Eddie’s chest to center yourself, a hunger that you can’t seem to satiate gnawing at the edges.
Eddie notices immediately, feels the falter in your motion and brings his hands to your forearms, rubbing a path up them soothingly- “What’s wrong, angel, hm?”
You’re not sure how to put it into words, wishing (not for the first time) that you could just rest your forehead against his and transmit all the complexities of your emotions through touch alone. 
Instead, you sigh out the name that you use when you’re done with taking, a name that lights Eddie up from head to toe as you say it- “Teddy.”
In one swift movement, Eddie slips an arm behind your back and flips you to the mattress, his hair a curtain around both your faces as he leans in to whisper against your mouth- “Teddy’s got you. Arms around me.”
You’re quick to obey, looping your arms around Eddie’s wide shoulders. He slides one hand up the back of your leg, pushing a knee up until it’s at your chest, mouth dropping open briefly when the new angle allows the head of his cock to kiss against that gummy upper wall of your cunt.
“Bored of you,” he huffs, recalling your words from earlier with disdain. “You’re talkin’ to the guy who memorized the first six chapters of The Hobbit just to recite for your bedtime.”
A quick thrust of his pelvis into yours has your stomach clenching in anticipation, brows on a tilt and knitting together as Eddie grins down at you. “Got a wicked attention span, baby. Lemme show you.”
He starts slow, agonizingly so, every inch of his thick cock dragging in and out, wetness pooling down your ass and probably the sheets, too; errant thoughts of housekeeping are rapidly erased as Eddie begins snapping his hips into yours in faster tempo.
He’s working to find that spot, the one that turns your brain to mush and is guaranteed to cause full-body muscle fatigue from the force of your orgasm. Your back arches off the bed, breasts pushing into Eddie’s chest, one arm still supporting your lower back as he laughs hoarsely, half-amazement and half-pride.
“That’s the spot, huh, sweetheart? Atta girl. M’all yours. Take it. Good girl…”
With each thrust, the wiry patch of hair dusted across Eddie’s pubic bone grinds slick and filthy against your clit. You’re so close to the edge now, a wave of pleasure cresting as you look up at Eddie.
There are two thin tracks of black makeup trailing down his face from where tears have made a mess of his eyeliner; rosy spots of flushed color in his cheeks, eyes like twin pools of chocolate, locked with yours as he rocks into you. 
He’s learned the song of your body so well, knows every chord to strike- his hand leaves your leg to grasp at your breast, calloused palm against pebbled nipple sending more shockwaves through your body, applying just the right amount of pressure to make you sing for him.
“All yours,” you gasp out, and it feels like victory when his hips stutter and the cresting wave crashes around you both at the same time.
The pleasure roils through your gut, clit throbbing and cunt spasming around Eddie’s cock as he spills into you. 
A wrecked, broken string of moans leaves you as you ride out the highs together. Eddie presses his forehead to your collarbone as he chants your name, twitching out the last of his spend, warmth blooming inside. 
The quiet that follows is filled with shaking breaths, soft kisses, murmurs of “good job, sweetheart” as you both float back down to earth.
Eddie stays in you for longer than usual, his draped weight a grounding comfort as you trail gentle fingertips up and down his skin, lovingly against the scars that interrupt the smooth flesh of his back. Through the closed windows, you can hear the distant sounds of car horns and the deep boom of fireworks. 
Sometime in the last foggy hour of lovemaking, 1987 has given way to a new year. 
Eddie pulls his heavy head up from your chest to press kisses to your collarbone. “Happy new year, lover.”
You tuck his hair behind his ears, hands squishing lightly at his cheeks to bring his face close enough for a kiss. “Happy new year to you. Hell of a way to kick it off.”
Eventually, Eddie extricates himself from the intoxicating heat of your body (with minimal whining) and brings a warm washcloth to tenderly wipe away the mess between your thighs. Once you’re both cleaned up, he stretches out against the sheets, pulling the covers up as you hook a leg around his waist and snuggle in. 
“So I was thinking,” he starts, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, “I wanna take a trip back to Hawkins. Before the tour.”
Your hand stills in its rhythmic circles against Eddie’s chest; heart in your throat, you tilt your chin up so you can gauge Eddie’s reaction. “...yeah?”
“Yeah.” Eddie picks up your hand on his chest, twining his fingers with your as his other hand settles on your bare hip beneath the sheets. “Could visit Wayne for a few days, fool around in that twin bed like we’re teens again.”
He grins at your giggle, taps playfully at your hip- “Gonna parade you around all our old haunts. You’ve gotten even hotter since we left, babe. Gotta really rub it in the faces of those Hawkins Tigers burnouts whose best dates are their own left hands.”
You snort, and Eddie looks pleased again, but then sobers a bit before saying- “I mean, I’ve got my piece of home with me. But I think it could be good, to visit. Just the two of us.”
You’re quiet for a moment, a longing for home that you’ve managed to ignore these past few years resurfacing. “Can we get high and go to that diner? I mean, Nell’s isn’t as good as Benny’s was, but I’ve been craving a Hawkins milkshake.”
“Christ.” Eddie hides his smile in the crook of your neck, dimples springing to life. “You could ask for the Mona Lisa and I’d find a way to get it to you. Fries and a milkshake, that all I need to keep my girl happy?”
“Yeah,” you reply, a contented noise as Eddie settles against your chest again. “That’s all I need.”
___
thank u thank u for reading if you made it this far have a little kiss from me to you <3 xx lulu
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worldlxvlys · 8 months
Note
hi i was wondering if u could do a combo of the story beg & pepsi like have the reader edge chris until he’s crying & wtv and then overstimulate him a lot until he has to use his safe word
take it
fwb! chris x reader
warnings: orgasm denial, edging, use of safe word, oral (fem and male receiving), cream pie, p in v, overstimulation, cursing
a/n: hope you enjoyyy <333
based off of these texts, you can read if you want !
these are the stories anon was referring to:
beg pepsi
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chris’s front door was unlocked when i arrived at his house.
i went straight to his room, noting that it seemed like nobody else was home.
when i opened his door, i wasn’t prepared for the sight i was met with.
chris was sat on his bed, head tilted back on his headboard, eyes screwed shut with his hand wrapped around his cock.
i closed the door behind me, the sound of it clicking shut making chris’s eyeballs shoot open.
“really, baby? couldn’t even wait for me?” i asked as i walked towards him.
“fuck, ma. i couldn’t help it, i started thinking about y-“ before he could finish i grabbed his dick.
“fuckkkk” he moaned out.
i gently took the hand that wasn’t on his dick and ran my fingers along his shoulders and biceps.
i began to leave a trail of kisses going up his neck, stopping right under his ear.
“you don’t like it when i play with myself without you” i whispered into his ear, watching as he shuddered.
“so why would you think it would be ok for you to do that?” i asked as i squeezed his base.
“fuck” he whispered, hips twitching.
i bit his ear gently, making him gasp.
“i’m waiting for a fucking answer, christopher” i said as i swiped my thumb over his tip.
“shit” he hissed out.
“fine. you don’t wanna answer? then you don’t get to cum” i said.
“wait, what?” his eyes widened.
i moved my hand up and down his member, giving slow strokes as i left kisses down his chest.
i sucked on his skin, leaving dark marks down his body.
“holy shittt” he groaned out as i continued to leave kisses down his body, stopping right above his dick.
i sped up my movements, watching his face contort as he got closer and closer to finishing.
once his dick started to twitch, i pulled my hand off and began to rub his stomach.
“noooo baby, fuck” he whined.
“i wasn’t joking, chris. you don’t deserve to cum” i told him as i continued to rub him right above where he needed me to touch.
“i’m sorry, so sorry, please let me cum baby”
instead of answering, i took off my clothes, stripping down to my underwear.
as i went to take them off, his phone started to ring, halting my movements.
INCOMING CALL FROM: CLAIRE
ANSWER ? DECLINE ?
i glanced at his phone, then back at him.
“you gonna answer that?” i asked him, raising my eyebrows.
his face was filled with pure fear.
he knows that it’s obvious who claire is, the other girl he’s been fucking.
i began to grow amused, wondering what he was gonna do.
“no, it’s ok”
“you sure, chris ? what if it’s important?” i leaned over him, bringing my face close to his “what if she needs you chris?”
he didn’t say anything, instead, he swallowed harshly.
it went to voicemail.
i grabbed his phone, handing it to him.
“call her back.” i said as i glared into his eyes.
his brows furrowed, “what?”
“call. her. back” i repeated.
without another word, he called her back. we stared at each other as we listened to the dial tone, before a voice was heard on the other line.
“hello?” chris just continued to stare at me.
i put the phone on speaker and gestured for him to answer.
“uh, hi”
“heyyy chrissy !!”
he looked at me, unsure of what my motives were.
“hi, what’s up ?”
i hooked my leg over his, now straddling his waist.
he looked up at me, eyes wide as ever.
“oh i was just wondering if i could come over ? it’s been a few weeks and i really miss you” i began to grind my hips into his.
“o-oh” he began to moan but was quickly able to cover it up by clearing his throat. his hands shot up to my waist, head falling forward to my shoulder.
“fuck” he spoke into my shoulder.
“what? i can’t hear you” she said.
he picked his head up, “um, s-sorry, i’m- you can’t- i’m busy” he was barely able to get the words out. “w-we already agreed to stop”
“are you ok, baby?” baby? is she serious?
with that, i picked up speed, moving my clothed pussy on him in circles.
he bit my shoulder, trying to stop the moans from tumbling out.
“chris? hellooooo ?”
“y-yea” he grunted. “ i gotta go, please don’t c-call me again” he said. he ended the call, and tossed his phone off the bed.
“fuckkkk!” he yelled out, i watched as his legs began to twitch, and i stopped my movements.
“no no no” he whined.
“why’d you two agree to stop?” i asked him.
“what?” he asked, confused due to his mind still being fuzzy.
“you said you agreed to stop. why ?” i asked him.
he looked down at my lips. “isn’t it obvious?”
i just looked at him. “i told you, she’s not you.
nobody is. nobody makes me feel the way you do”
i grabbed his face, and placed my lips on his. our lips moved in sync against each other.
i reached down between us, and started stroking his dick again.
he moaned into the kiss, hips bucking up into my hand.
i moved my hand up again, rubbing his stomach and continuing to tease him.
“fuck, come onnn ma” he whined.
“aw baby, i love hearing you beg” i whispered into his ear.
i squeezed his thigh, running my hand up and down it.
“please please please” he panted out.
“do she make you beg like this ?” i asked, condescendingly.
him and i both know she doesn’t.
“fuck, no baby. please !”
“please, what ?”
“please let me cum, please” he whined.
i placed my hand around his dick.
“holyyyy fuck!” he moaned out.
i could tell he was already close from all of the edging and teasing.
i started to stroke him, quickly.
his body tensed, and he started to twitch.
“look at you, you can’t even stay still baby”
he whined in response, his eyes screwing shut and rested his head on my shoulder.
“fuckkk” he whined.
“come on, baby. you’re so close, you got it. give it to me”
“fuck” he whined out, in a broken voice.
his hands gripped onto the sheets as his hips shot up.
his cum shot out of him, dripping out of his tip and covering my hand.
“so fucking good for me, chris”
he moaned in response.
instead of stopping, i continued to pump his length.
“holy- wait, fuck!” he groaned out.
“you know what to say if you need to stop, baby”
with that, i continued my movements.
i rubbed my thumb over his tip, making him whine.
“i c-can’t, so sensitive” he whined out.
“you’re the one who needed to cum so badly, remember? please please please.” i mimicked him. “so sit there and take it”
i continued to stroke his base with one hand while i rubbed his tip with the other.
he continued to whine while i watched his abs and thighs flex.
he grabbed my arm, his nails digging into my skin.
“you look so fucking hot, chris. all fucked out like this”
his legs started to shake, eyes rolling back.
“is this what you were thinking about when you were jerking off? my hand wrapped around your cock?”
more whines.
“so fucking dirty, baby. thinking about your best friend like this?” i sped up my hand.
“fuck, holy-“ he cut himself off with his orgasm.
i continued to stroke him, watching as he began to squirm.
“shittt”
“can you handle more? haven’t even fucked you yet, baby”
“yes, want you to feel good too” he moaned out.
with that, i lowered myself onto his dick.
“mmmmmm” he whined, grabbing onto my ass.
“fuck, i missed this chris” i moaned out.
“s-so tight”
i began to rotate my hips, grinding on him.
“feel so fucking good” i moaned as my head flew back.
without warning, his hips bucked up.
“shit, chris!” i yelled, grabbing his shoulders.
he groaned as he filled me with his seed.
i moaned out, clenching at the feeling of his cum inside of me.
i began to bounce on his cock, getting lost in the feeling of him buried deep inside of me.
his grip on my ass got harder, fingers dinging into it.
his moans turned into whimpers, and his cheeks turned red.
i clenched around him again, making him scream out.
“FUCK! PEPSI, PEPSI!”
i immediately stopped bouncing, pulling myself off of him.
“fuck, you ok baby?” i asked, rubbing his arms.
“yeah i’m good. but holy fuck”
“sorry, i got carried away” i said, climbing off of his lap.
i laid down on my stomach next to him, pushing up onto my elbows as i looked at him.
“don’t apologize, ma. i loved it” he smiled at me.
“ok, good” i said, turning my head to rest my cheek on my hands.
chris got up, presumably to get something to clean himself up with.
“you never got to finish baby, let’s fix that” before i knew it, he was eating me out from behind.
“ohhh fuck, chris” i moaned out, my face falling into the sheets.
“mmmmph” he moaned into me, adding to my pleasure.
he lapped at my pussy with his tongue, savoring the taste.
he pushed his tongue into my hole, curling it just right.
“chris! oh my gosh! “
he rubbed my clit with his finger, sending me over the edge.
my eyes rolled back as i was hit with a wave of pleasure.
he pulled his face away, and left a kiss on my lower back.
i turned around, facing chris.
“shower?” we asked at the same time, making us both laugh.
he held his hand out, helping me up.
“i hope you know that wasn’t the last time you’ll be screaming my name tonight, ma”
——————-
hope you like <333
masterlist
tag list: @lovingsturniolo @lustfulslxt @gwenlore @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sturnspepsi @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @chrisdevora @cupidsword @nickmillersn1gf @stramboli4life @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @vib3swithanuk @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @soursturniolo @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @rheaakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch
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maybankxw · 3 months
Text
EASE
pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader
warnings: mature content ahead! [ abuse; unprotected sex; ] minors dni!!!
summary: jj is seeking shelter and comfort away from his dad
word count: 1.3k
a/n: y'all enjoy <3
links: masterlist / taglist / ask box
any feedback (comments, reblogs, anon asks) would be appreciated!
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“Mind me staying the night?” “Course not.”
I squeezed my phone, slipping off the couch, tugging my black dress down, concerned, walking in the direction of my porch. It was around six in the evening, the sun started to set down, lighting up everything with a golden glow. My leg bounced anxiously as I kept flipping my phone, minutes stretched into hours and the wait was unbearable. I knew something happened. Again. A tall frame appeared on the horizon, coming closer. I leapt up to my feet, freezing on the spot, staring at JJ’s face. His eyes were fixed on the floor, lip bleeding, cheek wounded and scratched, knuckles skinned as he released his clenched fists.
“I’m fine,” he rasped, closing the distance between us, leaning in to pant a soft kiss on my forehead, our eyes closed, his brawny arms wrapped around me.
“I see,” I murmured back, resting my palms on his chest, feeling the heat of his body searing through me.
“It’s okay.”
He led me in, then followed my steps into the house. I rushed to the kitchen, searching for medication.
“Take your clothes off, I’ll put it in the laundry,” I called out, pawing for a bottle of alcohol and some napkins in a cabinet. Back to the living room I spotted him on a couch still fully clothed examining his hands.
“J, take your shirt off, it needs a wash.”
His dark blue eyes lifted up to stare at me for a good minute, then hesitantly, he pulled the shirt over and dropped it down the floor, making me swallow thickly. His whole
left side of the body was bruised.
“It’s nothing that hasn’t happened before,” he muttered, shifting in his seat.
I settled down next to him, wetting the napkin in alcohol, grasping JJ’s face tilting it to the side a little, “This is gonna sting.”
His face shrunk in pain and he hissed as I slowly applied the cloth on the wounds on his cheek and his lip, “Shh, hold on, I need to take care of this, please.”
He was quiet, I saw tears forming in the corners of his eyes, I pressed one gentle kiss to the untouched side of his face, stroking his hair, then my gaze fell to the bruising on his ribs. My fingers faintly brushed the sensitive skin, now I was the one with tears in my eyes, that started scattering down my face, “I’m so sorry,” I whispered, trying to look up at him.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he stared at me, wiping my tears away with his thumb, “I’ll be fine, just didn’t want to stay there tonight.”
“Come live here,” I straightened up, pleading, holding his hands in mine’s, “Parents aren’t home for another month, but they wouldn’t mind anyway.”
He shook his head in denial, “Don’t want to put you in danger.”
“You wouldn’t.”
When I finished cleaning up all the cuts, I sent him to the bathroom, only to realise I haven’t gotten him a towel. 
“JJ, I—“ I froze in the entrance at the picture in front of my eyes, watching him through a misty glass, water dripped off his hair, which messily hung low as he poured down some shampoo, muscles in his back flexed, drops of water scattered down his naked ass and as he washed the bubbles off, his head carefully turned back to see me staring.
A grin formed on his lips, glass door opened and he pulled me into the shower just as I was. 
My dress got soaked in moments, but he clung to my waist, pressing himself against me, making my stomach flutter. I could feel him get hard, his face inches away from mine as we shared the same air, “Can I kiss you?” he whispered, “I really wanna kiss you.”
His mouth caught my upper lip briefly and feathery, then it deepened as he realised I didn’t resist him. He started kissing me properly, driven by desire, pushing me towards the wall, slipping his tongue in my mouth, moaning at the taste of me and the pain I so desperately tried to soothe. I tangled my fingers in his wet hair, wiping them off his forehead, travelling lower to hold his cheek, “Are you okay? You sound like you’re hurting.”
“I sound like I wanna fuck you right here, right now. Wanna make you feel good.”
“Do it then,” I dared, biting on my lip to suppress a grin growing on my face. His mood definitely shifted, he didn’t seem to be worried about his dad anymore, not at the moment at least. 
Blue eyes darkened as he stared at my face, gripping the edges of my dress, pulling it over my head and throwing it to soak on the floor, then he dropped to his knees meanwhile holding my gaze, his head turned up now.
“Thank you for taking such a good care of me,” he spoke, planting a gentle kiss on my stomach, making me purse my lips and grasp his hair. His fingers looped in my panties and he slowly dragged them down, peppering kisses down my thighs to my knees, “You’re the best thing that happened to me. Ever.” His mouth landed on my clit as he sucked it in, forcing a moan to slip out of me, his tongue delved in between my folds, his hands pushing my legs further apart. I felt him smiling.
“Promise,” another hot lick followed as his eyes searched for mine while I struggled to breathe normally, “I’ll try to take a good care of you too. As much as I’m capable of.” In a moment he was back up, towering over me, his hands skimmed my sides, my chest, my ass, his lips parted waiting to kiss me again. Instead he swiftly swivelled me around, bending me over, his huge palm rested on my lower back as his free hand was stoking his cock. He slid the tip against the inner side of my thigh and then sunk in me in one torturously slow push, causing me to cry out.
“That alright?” his hips flexed as he started moving back and forth in a steady pace, leaning down to me, his nose buried in my hair. “Mhm,” I whined, desperately grasping his thighs, scratching them as he pushed to the hilt and backed away, holding me by my stomach, the rings he was wearing stung me as he tightened his grip.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” his rasp lingered in my ear as his head levelled the side of my neck, “Can I have you like this forever?”
His thrusts lengthened, lips roamed my shoulder, my arm as he pressed my clit and let go, making me moan. Loud.
“Yeah,” I gasped, pathetically trying to brace myself on the wall, “Oh god, JJ—“
“Are you coming?” his movements became rougher and faster, his fingers squeezed my ass as he fucked me relentlessly, the sound of running water wrapping up over my moans.
“Yes, don’t —“ I pawed for his leg again, my arms stretched behind, “Don’t stop.”
The pads of his fingers returned back to my clit, a few little strokes were enough to send me into a bliss. My head went dizzy, my body weakened as my thighs shook, but he held me, fucking me through my high.
A loud groan came out of his mouth as I felt him twitching, his movements became sloppier and after a few more thrusts he pulled out, cumming all over my lower back. The drops of thick warm liquid contrasted with cool water. Huge palms grabbed my sides, he propped me up and started washing me up with water at first, then added some shower cream, rubbing it all over my body, spinning me over to face him again.
“I actually do want to come live here.”
A smile tugged on my lips as my arms wound around his neck, “I want you to come live here,” I mumbled in his ear, my voice muffled, then I backed away staring into his eyes, “I’d rather take care of you in any other way possible than to witness you being abused.”
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cultofdixon · 9 months
Text
Oddly Fascinating
Daryl Dixon • She/Her Pronouns • Can you imagine a human fucking pretzel? Well you certainly like to freak the others out unexpectedly • SFW/NSFW - Implied Sex
Requested by: Anon
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It’s…fascinating. The things Y/N can do with JUST her body. Keep that noggin out of the gutter for a minute.
Y/N joined the group a little after the Woodbury infusion to the prison. She didn’t have a group and sort of ended up in Virginia because she simply didn’t stop walking from where she originated.
One day Daryl, Michonne, and Glenn were out on a run in the closest outdoor mall, which is a few hours away from the prison—so they were going to have to camp. Daryl went to check the store that looked like a miniature Home Depot thinking he could find some camping supplies but when he entered the store…said camping supplies were in use but no person.
“If anybody is here, I ain’t gonna hurt yea,” Daryl stated knowing that wouldn’t go far but to his surprise one of the storage boxes’s lids flung open. Soon a woman’s upper half popped out like a jack in the box and it was a bit unsettling to the archer.
“I had to see who I’m working with and what makes yea think I’ll trust “I ain’t gonna hurt yea” with muscles like those”
“You think I’d hit a woman?”
“It’s the apocalypse. If laws don’t exist, neither does moral code. I follow them still…but still”
“I don’t hit women.” Daryl scoffs. “How do yea fit in there?”
“I don’t know you well enough to share my skills. But I do feel a little better knowing you’re not gonna throw a left hook at my face” the woman began to fully pull herself out of the container and when she stepped out, she locked eyes with the archer’s confused yet curious ones. “Okay I trust you about not killing me but why haven’t you left?”
“Gonna ask yea a few things if that’s okay with you”
“Sure I guess” She put the lid back on the box before taking a seat and crossing her arms.
“How many walkers have you killed?”
“Lost count a long time ago”
“How many people have you killed?”
“Four”
“Why?”
The woman went silent for a moment and avoided eye contact as she held herself. “They were my friends, and brother who were about to turn. They didn’t want to be taken out as a walker and didn’t want to become one so. You know…”
“I do” Daryl leaned against one of the shelves. “It’s hard to take someone you care about out after they’ve changed”
“Getting deep with me and we don’t even know each other’s name”
“Daryl”
“Y/N”
Then she joined their group right then and there. The others that came with Daryl liked her, didn’t trust her right away but given her attitude immediately when it came to them asking the same questions Daryl asked—-both Glenn and Michonne knew that they will grow to trust her. Same with the others. Returning back to the prison with a lot more than they had expected helped the initial image of the new comer. Y/N hoarded a lot of stuff so thinking that she would survive alone in there.
Some part of Daryl wanted Y/N to take the empty cell in their cellblock but given he didn’t speak up and Rick showed her one of the others, that wasn’t happening.
But she was very involved with helping around the prison.
“You good up there Y/N?” Rick calls out to her receiving a thumbs up while she continued to work with fixing part of the fence that disconnected from the gate.
The retired sheriff watches his brother pull in on his bike but stop to watch Y/N a moment. She dropped her wire cutters and as it hit the grass, Daryl hopped off his bike about to grab it when he quickly took a step back when Y/N jumped down somersaulting in the dirt.
“The hell is wrong with you?!” Daryl shouted as Y/N stood up immediately, stretching her back after her action. “Yea could’ve cracked your head open!”
“I’ve done it a million times before. Don’t worry your pretty little head”
“A million times? What, in the circus?”
“How did you know?” Y/N smiles catching him off guard at first and even more when she broke out in laughter. “I wasn’t in the circus dumbass. I’ve done a lot of risky stuff and…gymnastics. But what just happened is nothing compared to other stuff” she states while throwing herself back so she was then in a bridged position and Daryl watched her upper half lay flat on its stomach showing her crawl between her legs and hold her ankles. Exorcist shit.
“Now I think you’re an alien”
“Rude” Y/N scoffs as such action was a bit uncomfortable given her twisted position. “It definitely impressed and freaked out a few hook ups”
Now that led Rick to leave from overhearing their conversation, both knowing damn well he was there. He opened the gate once Y/N was back in the upright position and Daryl was still left appalled somewhat.
Y/N was definitely making a good impression on most. Has been on every run that was planned and no one opposed, she’s especially useful in tight situations.
“Alright, so I was thinking we break down the door and then—-“ Tyreese cut himself off when Y/N gestured for Maggie’s help to hoist her up and she happily obliged.
Next thing the group knew, Y/N was pushing herself through the small window above the locked door landing on the other side and unlocking it.
“Or that” Sasha chimes in with a laugh and smile, impressed by the woman. “Now we don’t have to almost break ourselves to get into places” she walked past her as Y/N brushes off some of the dirt checking her person carefully. Said actions didn’t go unnoticed by Daryl.
After a couple hours passed, the four returned to the prison and dispersed but as Daryl stuck by his bike a moment he noticed Y/N straggling a bit. She stood for a while glancing around and turned to Daryl with a questioning look before turning away.
“If yea need something, you can ask” He didn’t hesitate as Y/N slumped in defeat before turning around and approaching him.
“Crack my back”
“What?” Daryl scoffs confused as he wiped the grime off his hands with his rag. “How am I supposed to do that?”
“Imma turn around cross my arms and you’re going to wrap your arms around me then lean back until a crack is heard.” Y/N explained in the most layman terms she could think of and it clicked instantly to Daryl but he hesitated a moment.
“Is that what yea want?”
“Yes, well. What I really want is someone to step on my back but all of y’all aren’t trained to do that and back in the day I had a friend who was a masseuse.”
“Well, I’ll do my best” Daryl grunts bringing himself over after tossing his rag on his bike watching her turn around and do what she had to do before he wrapped his arms around her. “Just lean back holding yea?”
“Yup” Y/N felt a sudden warmth rise in her chest when she was being lifted and the heat came clear in her cheeks expressing more of a red hue.
She heard the crack a bit ago but they both just. Stood there and it went from Daryl holding her to them both holding each other. Still Y/N’s back against his chest but her arms held onto his. Daryl relaxed setting her down but the way he held her for much longer and Y/N didn’t show any sign of letting go.
There was something
When the illness washed through the prison and a few were sent to get the medicine, Y/N found herself in the doorway watching Bob shove alcohol into his bag. He turned toward her realizing she was there and instead of talking first, he quickly took a bottle and threw it in her direction watching her quickly fall back then swing her body back forward.
“Jesus fucking Christ what are you? One of those inflatable car sales string cheese looking things?!”
“That’s very descriptive. Are you gonna be the same way when telling me why you have a goddamn bag of alcohol and not medicine to save our people”
“Oh for fucks sake! You and I are the newest people at the prison and you’re willing to bend over backwards—-even literally—-for people you barely know”
“So?!”
“SO?!” Bob shouted which caught another’s attention, Michonne as the conversation ended the second she joined. Bob brushed past her as she quickly gave a concerned look to Y/N.
I’m fine. Was all Y/N gave her as she stepped out.
Of course the booze was found out by Daryl and that was a more explosive mess to address than when Y/N first confronted him. But it all stopped mattering when they finally got their medicine into their people.
After getting their medicine in, Daryl went in search for Y/N who disappeared after they did such. It didn’t take long to find her because she was in her cell but she was alone in the old Woodbury cell block. Because of the outbreak.
“You alright?” Daryl asks Y/N even if she was currently hiding under her deconstructed bunk.
“Yeah”
“Don’t look like it”
A few seconds of silence. “Yeah…” she sounded defeated and pulls her entire self out from under bringing herself to sit on her bed. Daryl bringing himself to sit with her leaning his back against the wall.
“You can trust me, with whatever is on your mind”
“It’s strange…how easily it was for Bob to just. Not care about the others in the heat of the moment”
“Some people are just like that. Somethin’ or someone has to change them”
“I used to be like that. Not a warm caring person when this thing first started. I just. Had moments that changed me”
“Yeah?” Daryl gave her a questioning look that she noticed in the corner of her eye. “What changed yea?”
“Having to end the lives of people I cared for, the ones who got bit. When…” Y/N hesitated a second before looking at Daryl. “When I met you”
She’s full of surprises isn’t she? Daryl could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he never felt that feeling before.
But this moment was short lived like the many that followed after.
Until they found themselves alone weeks later…in a new place, with strange new people. Y/N stuck by Daryl’s side since they first entered Alexandria and given how the archer was feeling from all the loss, he would find himself following her if she were to stray or disappear from his side for too long.
“Can you hand me the socket wrench?” Daryl asks while under the car Aaron drives for recruiting as he was asked to check something out for the man. Y/N being there to help in any way even if it is just handing tools to the archer.
Y/N was currently repairing one of the angel wings on Daryl’s vest which led her to using her leg to reach toward the bench then her foot hooked onto the handle of the tool box. She then carefully bent so that she could grasp the box with her hands and go through the kit for what he asked for.
“Damn”
The annoyingly familiar voice caught both of their attentions as Daryl pushes out on the skateboard sitting up to look at Spencer confused. Y/N equally confused on the matter while handing the tool over.
“You know I saw you the other day doing your…morning stretches or whatever. Didn’t think you’d be THAT flexible…and limber…” Spencer was starting, or continuing to make Y/N uncomfortable as he starts to check her out making her cover herself with Daryl’s vest in her lap.
Daryl quickly taking note of the reaction and glaring at the man. “Beat it”
“I wasn’t talking to you” Spencer brushed him off keeping his attention on Y/N. “I bet you’re even more flexible in more intimate situations”
Y/N scoffs instantly but before she could bite the guy’s head off. She felt herself being pulled toward Daryl’s direction. Daryl having grabbed the blanket she was seated on pulling it closer to him so he could protectively wrap his arm around her shoulders as she instinctively leaned into him.
“She’s taken. Now I’d fuck off and bother somebody else before your mommy sees her little boy’s face smashed the fuck in” Daryl threats and didn’t let his guard down but it got Spencer to storm off defeated. “What a tool”
“He’s not wrong about something”
“Huh?”
“I am very flexible when we’re intimate” Y/N laughs slightly catching her own boyfriend off guard resulting in the red hue rising in his cheeks.
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measuredingold · 11 months
Note
hi, angel <33 back with a request! also also no pressure at all ofc, if you’re not vibing with it just delete 🥰
just had a lil fluff idea, friends to lovers type beat. reader is on tour with the band, tagging along as a friend when she’s out late one night with the guys, gets a lil drunk/tipsy and ends up in the wrong bunk. (Noah’s.) he didn’t go out, he went to bed early. she doesn’t realize and she’s like “what are you doing in my bed?”
neither of them end up moving, and it doesn’t help that she’s a cuddly drunk. plus, he has a hard time saying no to you 🥺💗
anyway, do with that what you will 💖
just friends
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authors note: thank you so much lovely anon for requesting this! i enjoyed writing this and kind of want to take it further, but i'm not sure? :) anyways, i hope this is what you were looking for and you enjoy it <3 reminder that my requests are open! also, happy birthday noah :)
pairing: noah sebastian x reader
cross-posted on ao3
word count: 2.6k
cw/tags: fluff (like tooth-rotting fluff imo), friends to lovers, confessions/admission of feelings, drinking/reader is drunk, 18+ minors do not interact
"Easy there, girl."
You giggled as Nicholas helped you onto the bus, his hands pressed against the small of your back to keep you in place. You didn't even mean to drink this, usually not one to do so, but after Folio had challenged you to see how many shots you could take in under a minute you had to prove to him that it definitely was more than two. Now here you were, giggling obnoxiously to yourself as Nicholas guided you onto the bus, feet tripping over one another.
"Nick," You hum, eyes squinting around the bus. "Is the room spinning?"
"It very much is not. You," A finger pressed to your forehead, and you barely registered that Nicholas was now in front of you, a smile tugging at his lips, "are very much drunk, though. Come on, let's get you to bed. Go change and I'll get you some water and Tylenol for that headache that should be kicking in... now."
You go to retort, but there was already a dull pain in the back of your head causing you to wince. Your headaches came a lot earlier when you drank, not waiting until the morning to hit. You give him a grateful smile when he hands you your bag you kept above one of the seats up front, knowing your drunk ass could not get that even if you tried your hardest, and you pulled out a change of clothes and made your way back to the very small, and very tight bathroom.
You change, clumsily, and shuffle your way back to the front of the bus where Nicholas was waiting for you. You take the Tylenol and bottle of water gratefully, swallowing down the medicine in one go. You take a few more sips of water, realizing just how thirsty you were before deciding you were good to go, twisting the cap back on a tossing it onto the couch.
“Good?” You nod, giving Nicholas a thumbs up in response. He smiles. “Alright. I’m gonna meet back up with guys, but Noah’s still here.”
Your brows furrow for a moment before you remember that Noah is still on the bus, opting out of going out with you and the crew after tonight’s show. You give Nicholas another nod as your response.
“If you need anything, just wake Noah up. He’ll get you whatever you need.” He leans forward now, tipping his head down to press his lips to your forehead, and you smile brightly up at him when he pulls away. “And if he doesn’t, hit ‘em upside the head and then call me.”
You laugh, “I’m sure I’ll be fine if I need anything. I’m drunk, not injured.”
He rolls his eyes at you before you gently shove him away, pushing him towards the door. You say your goodbyes and watch the door shut behind Nicholas, leaving you to stand alone in the front of the bus all by yourself. You stay put for a second, the dizziness coming back before a yawn rips from you, and you decide to finally shuffle your way towards the bunks.
All you needed was your favorite blanket and your bunk, and that duck squishmallow Noah had gotten you a few months ago. It’s quiet and you think Noah’s probably asleep already, and you yawn again as you finally reach your bunch, pulling the curtain back. You stare quizzically, though, at the man curled up in your bunk, and he stares right back, brows raised and just as confused.
"What the hell are you doing in my bunk?"
Noah blinks at you before pulling his airpods out, a brow raised. "What?"
"I said," You let go of the curtain to place a hand on your hip. "What the hell are you doing in my bunk, Davis?"
He stares at you for a beat before his lips slowly start curling into a smile.
"How drunk are you?" Noah squints at you.
"Why does that matter?" You argue, words slurring slightly. "I'm drunk and you're in my bunk. Two very obvious and true things. Now answer my question."
Noah snorts out a laugh. "You're right about one thing, you definitely are drunk. This is my bunk, though."
If you were sober, you would realize that yes, he was right. This was definitely not your bunk, yours was right below his, but for some reason in your drunk and hazy mind you were sure that this was your bunk. It looked just like it - just like the rest of the damn bunks on this bus - so it had to be true. You purse your lips, arms crossing over your chest.
“Very funny, Noah. Now get out, I’m tired and want to go to sleep.”
“I’m not moving.” He says more firmly, eyes narrowing at you. “This is my bunk, yours is over there.”
You turn as he points to the bunk across from his, the curtains drawn, and you squint. You look back at him, then back at the other bunk, and a voice in the back of your head is telling you that he was right. That was your bunk, not the one Noah was currently occupying. None of your stuff is there, your pillow isn’t even there, but for some reason the drunk – and very stubborn – part of you was firm on your stance.
Noah was in your bunk.
You turn back to him, arms still crossed over your chest, and you square your shoulders. “I’m just gonna climb up if you’re not moving, dude. So, either get out or we’re cuddle buddies for the rest of the night.”
The two of you stare at each other for a moment and you see the exact where Noah’s shoulders drop, realizing there’s no point in arguing with you because you are right (no, you’re not) and he sighs deeply, though you barely catch the slight curl of his lips.
“Whatever. Get in.”
You climb into the bunk beside Noah, slowly because you knew in your inebriated state that was a disaster waiting to happen, and the boy sighs to himself again, rolling onto his side and pressing his back against the wall to make room for you. You roll onto your side, back facing Noah, and press against him. It wasn't hard to do with how tight the space was, and you hummed to yourself when you finally got comfortable enough to relax, pulling the blanket up to your chin.
"Comfy?" You hear Noah murmur behind you.
You nod, "Very."
"Good."
You feel him shift behind you and if you had been sober, maybe the thought of being so close to him would have your skin blazing, but as your thoughts swirl, the only thing you can really think is how nice he feels pressed against you and how comfortable you are. His arm slings over your waist underneath the blanket and you swear he pulls you closer to him, if that was possible. A pleased sigh escapes him, the air fanning over the back of your neck. Now that has your body firing up, tiny goosebumps scattering across your skin. You melt against him.
"Why didn't you go out?" You ask through a yawn, eyes fluttering.
"Didn't want to."
"Why not? Everyone else did."
"Just wasn't in the mood," He mumbles behind you, his breath fanning against the back of your neck again. "Cold? You got goosebumps.”
You shake your head but feel Noah pull you closer anyways, sweatpant covered legs slipping in between yours. His limbs snake around yours and practically confines you, locking you against him. You're finding out that you like it way more than you probably should for a friend, but the drunken haze of your mind doesn't care too much about the technicalities of it all. 
"Did you miss me?" You ask after another beat of silence, and you feel Noah's body tense behind you.
“…Maybe."
"Maybe?"
"Yeah, maybe."
You pause. "Is that why you're in my bunk right now? Because you missed me?"
Noah lets out a groan and you can't help but smirk, soft giggles escaping you. You feel his hand move down to your hip, pushing your shirt up slightly to pinch at your skin playfully and you squeal, squirming against him. You barely move because this six-three, giant man has you tight in his grasp, and you feel his chest move against your back with his laughter. 
"Oh my fucking god," He grumbles into your hair, but you hear the smile in his voice. "Go to sleep. Please."
"I'm trying." You whine out, eyes slipping shut at the feeling of his hand now spreading out against your tummy, rubbing soothing circles there. "My head hurts too much."
"Did you take anything?"
"Mhm." You hum. "Nicholas gave me some Tylenol and water before he met back up with the guys."
"You drink all the water?"
You shrug. “Maybe like half?”
"Good enough for me." You feel the brush of his lips against the back of your neck and your eyes spring open, freezing in his hold. "You just need to relax. It should start kicking in soon."
You don't say anything, hyper-focused on the way his lips felt against your skin and the way you liked it too much. Even in your inebriated state you knew what that meant, and maybe you always had, but was just too scared to even think of the possibility. You and Noah were just friends... who sometimes teetered the line between friends and something else. It went unspoken for as long as you could remember, and you're not sure why you never said anything. 
You don't know if it's the alcohol, or if you're finally sobering up, but your stomach turns at the thought. Why didn't you say anything? Why didn't he say anything? You feel dizzy again, and there's a voice in the back of your head trying to tell you to shut up and sleep but you've never been a good listener, even to yourself, and your lips move before you can think twice about it. 
"Noah." Your voice is hushed and the feel of his fingers rubbing circles against your bare hip as your head spinning more than it probably should be right now.
"Hm?" 
"You do realize friends don't do this, right?"
It takes him a moment to reply, "Do what?"
"This."
You feel more sober than you did five minutes prior. You're aware of everything - where you are, who you're with, who you're pressed against. Noah lets out a sigh and you feel him nose at your shoulder, a shiver running through your body at the feeling.
"You know we’ve never exactly been just friends."
You can't believe he had just said that as your eyes almost bulge right out of your head, and you try to turn in his arms so that you can face him.
"Noah-"
His grip only tightens on you, and you can't move, stuck where you are, and you hear him huff out a laugh before saying, "Nope. No way. We’re not having this talk right now when you’re drunk as shit, and we’re trapped in this glorified death box. Go to sleep.”
"But-"
"If you remember this in the morning, then ask me again." You feel his lips move against the back of your neck and you shiver again, squirming against him.
"I will." You finally whisper after two beats of silence, trying to settle back against his chest. "I'll ask you tomorrow."
He presses another kiss to the back of your neck and your entire body flushes, and you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Okay."
You both lay in silence and it's not long for sleep to find you, body finally relaxing after the long night.
You wake some hours later, groaning quietly as you lifted your head up from the pillow. You blink blearily around you before rubbing at your eyes, trying to rid them of sleep as last night’s shenanigans flooded your brain. With another groan you roll onto your back and stare up at the top of the bunk, picking a part your memories.
Going out with the guys, taking way too many shots with Folio, Nicholas having to walk you back to the bus, the Tylenol, Noah… Your mind pauses at the thought of the male, and you realize you’re in the bunk alone. You remember everything clearly, from arguing with him about how this was your bunk – it in fact very much was not – from climbing into said bunk and cuddling with him. You remember him saying that the two of you have never been just friends but refused to elaborate.
If you remember this in the morning, then ask me again.
The bus is quiet, the only sound you hear are Jolly’s snores coming from below you, and the soft sound of the bus’s engine running. You were most likely on your way to the next city. You’re sure Noah’s already up, probably in the front working away on his laptop, and you peel his blanket off your body and do your best to get down from his bunk.
You find him where you expected him, beanie on top his head and hoodie wrapped around his body, headphones on as he typed away at his laptop. You’d make a joke about him always working, but you’re only thinking of one thing right now.
You come stand in front of him and he notices you almost instantly, pushing his headphones off his head as he stares up at you.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”
You blush, eyes dropping for a moment as your arms come to cross over your chest.
“What did you mean last night?” You blurt out.
Noah pauses but his eyes never leave you, and you watch as he slips his computer off his lap and into the seat next to him. He leans forward, elbows resting against his knees.
“Ask me again.”
“No, I’m not-“ You huff out a groan and brush your fingers through your hair, wincing a bit at the knots that caught between your hands. “I’m not playing that game, Noah. What did you mean we’ve never exactly been just friends?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” He leans back against the couch now, arms crossing over his chest. “And you know I’m right.”
Your heart hammers against your chest and all you can do is nod at his words, cheeks flushing with color. He was right. You two have never been just friends, too close, too touchy to be labeled as platonic. You’d be lying if you said last night was the first time you shared a bed together. But now what? You got the answer you were looking for, but for some reason you can’t even look at Noah, but his eyes are burning into you, watching your every move.
“Okay…” You start, sucking in a breath as you finally moved your gaze back to Noah, eyes locking with his. “If we’re not just friends, then what does that make us?”
He smiles. “People who like each other more than friends but are too scared to admit it?”
Damn. He got that spot on. You blush again, trying to find the right words, but come up short. Your brain is still playing catch up, sleep still very much in your veins, and Noah notices. He leans forward again and gestures you to come closer and you do, his hands reaching out to grab your own.
“We have the next two days off. Let me take you out. Dinner or something. A movie. Whatever you want.”
“And then what?”
He shrugs. “And then we see where this goes. I’m willing to give it a try if you are.”
You can’t stop the smile that’s slipping onto your lips, your fingers curling around his as warmth spread throughout your chest.
“That sounds good to me.”
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tkaulitzlvr · 1 year
Note
Can you do tom getting overprotective of reader at a party??
STAY CLOSE - T. KAULITZ
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synopsis: you and tom attend a party together, and he does everything to make sure that you don’t leave his side - even for a second.
content: fluff
a/n: love love loveeee this idea bc i can so picture tom being all overprotective of his girlfriend at a party, hope u like it anon!!
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“liebe, you nearly ready?” tom calls out from the bedroom, my eyes concentrated on the bathroom mirror in front of me, completely focused on getting my lipliner perfect - having failed miserably the past five times.
“just a second!” i say, pressing my lips together, ensuring they are fully covered, before releasing them with a pop. i stand upright, looking into the mirror as i adjust my dress, running my fingers through my straightened hair, making sure everything is perfect. my outfit leaves little to the imagination - a small black dress with spaghetti straps, no bra underneath, paired with some black heels. i know that tom will be all over me tonight, not only out of lust and his lack of ability to restrain himself, but out of protectiveness, becoming overly possessive whenever we attend a party like this.
finally satisfied with myself, i open the bathroom door, tom looking upwards from his small flip phone as he lays on the bed, his lips curving into a sly smirk once he sees me. i know that look all too well. he gets up, walking towards me, his eyes dark, hooded with pure lust. his hands run up and down my waist, squeezing gently as he moves my hair to one side, placing short and firm kisses to my shoulder and collarbone.
“you look so beautiful.” he mutters, his tongue running over the skin, hands exploring my hips. “don’t know how i’m gonna hold back, wanna rip this off you right now.”
his thumb and pointer finger pinch the stretchy material of my dress, letting it ride up a little, exposing my thighs as he smiles, giving the flesh a rough squeeze, leaving a slight mark in his hand’s place. honestly, if it were up to me, we wouldn’t be going to this party in the first place. i would much rather he act on his impulses, throwing me against that bed behind me. the way his tongue nudges his lip piercing as he continues his actions makes my mind travel to places that i know it shouldn’t be going right now, but his voice soon takes me out of my fantasy, reminding me that we were running late, thanks to me and my lack of time management, taking almost two hours to get ready.
“you ready to go?” he asks, taking his hand in mine, grabbing his car keys out of his pocket once i nod my head.
༻❦༺
the bass echoing from the speakers drums through my ears, the air hot and thick as we walk through the front door. the place is completely packed, tom’s hand securely around mine as he guides me to the kitchen counter, checking behind him occasionally to make sure that i am okay, his tendency to worry in these sorts of settings already kicking in.
he pushes through a couple more people, finally reaching the kitchen island, scattered with an array of every drink i could think of. tom takes my hand, pulling me in next to him, wrapping his arm tightly around my waist as i stand flush against the counter, my back against his chest.
“you okay?” he asks, planting a quick kiss on my cheek, reaching forward and grabbing himself a beer. i nod my head, his face softening a little. “you want a drink?”
i point to the vodka, and he knows exactly how i like it, inspecting the liquid in each bottle before he pours it into a glass, handing it to me as his other hand runs up and down my waist, eyes scanning around the room.
“can we go dance?” i yell, shouting over the music, this apparently not enough as tom furrows his eyebrows, bending down a little and turning his head to the side, leaning inwards so that his ear is in front of my lips.
“i said can we go dance.” i say, my voice still a little raised. he understands, pulling back as he shakes his head slowly. “i was thinking we could chill in the garden, you know, where it’s a little quieter.”
“really?” i ask, not liking that idea as it is quite frankly - boring. i understand that he is only trying to keep me safe, but the irritation that begins to habituate in my stomach is hard to ignore, as i wish that he would let me do my own thing for a while. “why can’t we stay right here? this is fun.”
my expression clearly shows how i feel about him trying to take me some place quieter, my lips pushed outwards, eyebrows furrowed a little. but this doesn’t change his mind as he lets out a small sigh, resting his hands on my shoulders as he gets closer, pecking my lips before speaking against them.
“it’ll be a lot quieter out there. we’ll come back inside once things have calmed down, yeah?” he shouts over the music, yet still manages to keep his tone gentle and kind, making it hard to decline in fear of looking like an asshole when he is willing to reason with me and, whilst his protectiveness may be annoying, the intent behind it is adorable, my heart swelling as i find myself swooning over how much he cares.
i hesitantly nod my head, a small smile spreading across his face as he takes my hand, telling me to ‘stay close’. his fingers intertwine with mine, his free hand wrapping around my shoulder as he leads me once again through the crowd of people, his hold on me growing stronger as he keeps looking downwards at me, checking that i am okay.
with tom’s hands either on my shoulder or enlaced with mine, my whole body freezes in shock when i feel another slap my ass, never feeling tom move his own - meaning that he didn’t touch me, somebody else did. i turn around, seeing a strange pair of green eyes burning into me, a proud smirk on the boy’s face.
tom notices that i have stopped, turning around in confusion, seeing my face etched in anger as i try to release myself from his hold, walking over to the stranger, completely infuriated.
“baby? where are you going, wait!” tom pushes through a few people, trying to catch up to me, stopping eventually once he reaches me, seeing my finger digging into the guy’s chest, jaw clenched as i yell out words of frustration.
“how fucking dare you touch me! you’re so fucking disgusting you know that-”
“hey, hey, schatz, what’s going on?” tom places his hand on my shoulder, pulling me away from the guy as his eyes flick between me and him, trying to make sense of the situation.
“what’s going on is this dick touched my ass.”
as soon as those words fall from my lips, tom’s face drops, eyes darkening as he takes the guys shirt, bunching it up in his now clenched fist, pulling it so that their faces were inches apart.
“that true, hm?” his chest is heaving up and down, anger seething through his entire being. i have never seen him this mad before, this side of him totally new to me. “i fucking said is that true?”
he is shouting now, his voice easily distinguishable over the loud music, catching the attention of a few people nearby, most too occupied with getting completely shitfaced to even care what was going on.
“i’m talking to you, did you touch my fucking girlfriend?” tom tugs on the guy’s shirt, bringing him even closer as he struggles to speak, only able to stutter, tom completely towering over him.
tom lets go, pushing him back harshly, his anger only increasing. “what are you fucking deaf? i swear to god you’re lucky she’s here.” tom pauses, turning around and signalling to me, quickly refocusing his attention on the guy, who now stands with his back against the wall, tom trapping him. “cause if she wasn’t, you wouldn’t be walking out of here, but she doesn’t need to see that. now listen to me, you ever go near my girlfriend again and i won’t let you off so easily, fucking cunt.”
tom lands a small punch on his cheek enough to make the guy stumble backwards, wiggling his fingers around as the guy quickly walks away, clearly not in any position to test tom. once he is out of sight, tom pushes through the crowd, quickly pulling me into a hug, gently swaying us side to side as his hand runs through my hair, lips planting a gentle kiss in it.
he says nothing, but pulls away, bringing me into his side closer than he ever had before, my body. flush against his as his hand wraps securely around my waist. he is pissed, not at me, and i can tell that the whole situation has only made him more protective.
he takes me out into the garden which, though still a little busy, is peaceful compared to inside the house. the pool is quiet, a few drunken bodies splashing around in there, whilst others stand around, their hands decorated with half empty glasses. tom points to an empty bench, sitting down on it as i move beside him, his arm wrapping around my shoulder as he pulls me into him, his free hand intertwining our fingers together, my head against his chest as it moves up and down, his heart still beating at a fast rate.
“are you okay?” he asks, his thumb rubbing small circles around my shoulder. “i’m sorry i wasn’t looking, it was my fault baby. i can’t believe i let that happen to you- fuck.”
i shake my head, looking upwards to meet his gaze, tom already looking at me with heavy eyes filled with guilt.
“how was it your fault? you’ve looked after me the whole night. i was right behind you tom, don’t blame yourself.” i speak slowly, wrapping both arms around his torso and snuggling further into him.
“i should’ve been watching you though.” he says, finding any way to blame himself for what had happened, despite him dedicating every second to make sure i was safe.
“baby you can’t have eyes in the back of your head.” i smile, a small laugh escaping from my lips. “you looked away for a few seconds. it was no one’s fault but the asshole who touched me.”
he nods tentatively, kissing my hair gently, playing with my fingers absentmindedly as we both watch the scene in front of us, more and more people pouring outside from the house, the majority of them completely wasted.
“can we go dance now?” i plead, wanting to enjoy the night whilst i still could.
he lets out a laugh, squeezing my hand before speaking. “you really think that’s a good idea? you sure you don’t want to just stay out here? it’s a lot calmer, and don’t have to worry about you as much, ‘cause i have you right here.”
“or…” he begins, using his pointer finger, placing it under my chin as he moves it so that our faces are inches apart. he connects our lips, the kiss sloppy yet short. “we could go home, and i can show you how pretty i think you look tonight.”
he kisses my lips once again, smiling boldly against them as his thumb holds my chin in place, arm wrapping around me to bring me closer.
“you know how beautiful you look in this dress...” he mumbles against my lips, his hands running over the soft material, a cocky smirk etched upon his face as he swallows before continuing. “but, if i’m honest schatz, i think you look better without it on.”
my cheeks heat up at his words as he is totally aware of the effect that they have on me. he rejoins our lips as my hands wrap around the back of his neck, pulling him into me as the sound of music soon fades from my senses, only able to focus on him and the growing need from within me. he pulls back, his lips still brushing against mine, his eyes, now filled with lust, dark and half-lidded as they carry every want and need that he is keeping quiet, knowing that they won’t be left unsaid for much longer.
“let’s get out of here, mhm?”
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requests are open! keep sending them in!!
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nanaomei · 7 months
Note
Hello again :) im the anon with idea for a request. What I had in mind was something a bit angsty with a *happy ending, of course, along the lines of reader who is pregnant and something happens to her that she gets hurt/injured and Gojo flips out. Nothing tooooo bad happens to the resder but she needs apecial care or extra attention after. Thank you again for accepting this a giving it a try💙💙💙 you are the best and can't wait to read whatever you put out next🤗🥺
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“Toru im fine, really” it’s a phrase you catch yourself repeating too often as of late. But oh, you don’t think he actually believes you. Because every step you take, he’d be there, and in a way, he can’t bring himself to relax.
“I know, baby girl. I know,” he’d reassure, but do anything but leave you alone. And he’s got a nerve to call you ‘baby girl’ again, as if you were helpless. Well, in his eyes, you are.
You’ve got him kneeling at 7a.m to help you put on a pair of tights, gently rolling them up your calves, your heel resting on his thigh as he kisses your own, kneading your plump flesh while pulling the waist band over your overflowing belly until it’s safely secured in its place.
“I’m gonna crush you” you scoffed silently, masking your worry under a layer of annoyance as your brows furrow at his act of care.
“Nah” He actually enjoys it and you don’t know why, your weight must be heavy as you lean your whole body with your hands on his shoulders, but it’s never a problem “I’m the strongest, don’t you know it by now, pretty thing?”
Toothy grin send your way, so cocky it makes you roll your eyes. Sure, he is.
Getting ready to work is hard, especially 8 months pregnant. You could easily stop working, you should, but you never want to. It both worries and amuses Satoru to no end “are you sure you’ll be able to handle today?” asking almost sickeningly sweet, your husband couldn’t help himself from making sure, just one more time.
It makes your nose twitch in annoyance, brows scrunched as you let out a frustrated sigh “Yes, thank you very much” your response is nothing short of sarcastic but that didn’t do much to deter him from worrying “and I mean, I’ve been handling you, a literal man child since forever, so I think I’m fine dealing with a bunch of teenagers for a day”
He knows you're capable, but he's also aware of the newfound boundaries your pregnant body can't deal with. You're creating another life and in all of this he's got to be the one reminding you to take it easy.
Smirking, he continued adjusting your tights up, pausing for a brief moment to let the baby kick his hand. He loves your spunkiness, your determination. It reminds him of your high school days when you'd fight hell and back to prove your worth.
"I learned my lesson,” he replied lightly, that teasing glint back in his eyes, throwing a playful glance towards you before standing up, helping you find some stability. "You're damn stubborn, but that’s part of your charm I suppose."
You let him capture your lips in a soft kiss, thumbs absently rubbing circles on your cheeks, a gentle reassurance and encouragement etched in his gaze "just try to take it easy today. If possible, give me updates in between for a good measure, alright?”
Your gaze narrowed on his, but the corners of your mouth twitched up into a small smirk. With his help, you stood up straight and tall, teeth clicking together as you adjusted your clothing one last time.
"I can't promise anything” The warning is lighthearted, your palm patting his cheek before picking up your bag ready to leave, so there’s no more talking about it.
As you head out, his arms naturally circle around your waist, supporting your heavy body with an ease that only he can manage. A cute grunt escaped him, but his smile never falteres. “Well then,”
"You're gonna be late if we don't hurry," he mumbled against your ear, gently tugging the shirt to make sure everything was even.
"And when you’re at it,” Satoru said once you were hopping into the car, straightening up and gazing down at you, hands resting on your belly, caressing it gently, "don’t make me regret sending you off alone."
He really hopes you won’t. Your husband, always the busy, had a lot to do throughout the day, and you knew so.
Although frustrated he couldn’t accompany you to school every single day, it was something he had to make peace with.
In the end, he needed to accept that he couldn't hold you back. But that didn't mean he'd stop worrying about you.
In the breaks, Satoru caught himself checking his phone frequently, waiting for a buzz with a text from you. A small smile graced his lips, a bubble of joy filling his chest as he read the message: "Tea is good," along with a photo of a fancy cup
It was not much, just a small digit of information, but it helped ease his mind for a while. At least until he got not as pleasant phone call from Shoko, making him cut short his mission and rush back asap.
He could recall only glimpse of it. Accident. Infirmary. You.
He shouldn’t have let you go there. He fucking shouldn’t. Guilt eats at him with each step, heavy and ground, echoing through the small corridor. Anxiety chips at his sanity, bubbling along with frustration and worry; a mix of emotions Satoru isn’t good at surpassing.
The last time he’d seen you was at home, and he curses himself out for not making you stay, when you quite clearly shouldn’t even be near this damn building.
Satoru isn’t angry often, but when he is it’s undoubtedly a scary experience, and everyone knows so. He’s aware he’s projecting now, panicking and probably overreacting but how could he not?
You’re his wife, his love, the mother of his unborn child. Of course he’s crazy about your safety.
Hurried steps carried him closer to the three students sitting on the bench, all looking up the moment they heard him approach. Yuji was the first one to try and talk, but quite clearly, his teacher had none of it. “Sensei-“
“Silence.”Satoru glared at the trio, his eyes sharp and cold, demanding obedience through voice and sheer presence.
Finding his breath trembling with anger, a rarely shown emotion from him, he crouched in front of them, and even with eyes covered his frustration was palpable. "Didn’t I clearly say to keep an eye on her?"
Accepting nods from each of the first year's with their heads hung low in shame was still not enough to calm Satoru down "so why the hell didn't you?" he bellowed, snapping their heads up, the guilt in their eyes doing little to placate him.
"We thought she could handle herself” Megumi stuttered out, his voice barely above a whisper. It truly was a misfortune, if that makes it any better, and in this case it doesn't seem important; you are, and the thought of anything happening to you, unacceptable.
Satoru's eyes narrowed, taking in their pouty faces, looking like they had just seen a ghost. "You thought wrong" he spat, standing back up immediately, taking a step back.
"Whose idea was it?" his chest heaved, each breath an effort as he tried to calm his nerves, pushing his palms into fists. His hands trembled as if all of his anger and frustration were physically manifesting as is fearing the answer, although knowing well enough whose idea it was. He couldn’t even be mad at the kids for long, he firsthand experienced how stubborn you can be.
Surprisingly, all three stayed silent accept for murmurs of ‘we’re sorry’, not daring to look up and acknowledge his question. Still, by the looks they were sending one another, he by now figured it must have been you.
It warmed his heart a little, knowing how devoted they were to not snitch even in face of consequences. With a heavy sigh, Satoru rubbed his temples with his index finger and thumb, closing his eyes for a brief moment.
"Alright, we'll discuss this later," he said calmer than before, his voice laced with both resignation and acceptance. Turning on his heels, he started walking away, stopping short after a few steps.
“I’m going to deal with you three in a moment. Stay put” seeing his students so remorseful stilled his anger, forcing a deep breath out of him as he nodded for them to follow his orders.
The frustration he had moments ago dissipated, replaced by a heavier, more solemn feeling. He knew he shouldn't be mad at them, but the thought of you in danger because of your own stubbornness made him feel like he was suffocating.
Gathering his thoughts, Satoru headed toward the infirmary, the sight of you on one of beds meeting his gaze, talking casually with Shoko as if nothing happened- when it did.
Taking a moment to tone down on emotions before closing the door behind him, he made himself known, and from his face alone, it was obvious your husband was worried sick.
Your own face scrunched in an apologetic pout the moment you registered his familiar presence, and you even put on a sweet tone he knew you always used when you felt bad.
“Satoru, please don’t start...” of course you’d say that, he couldn’t help but scoff as he inched closer, watching as you put away the small container of fruits onto your belly- a comical sight, but he couldn’t bring himself to pay attention to it now.
"Start? Start what?" He replied, glaring daggers at you, your pacifying actions seemingly going unnoticed.
“It was a misfortune-“
"A misfortune that led to you fainting. It’s not ‘nothing’, you’re pregnant for Christ's sake” his voice was unusually cold as he cut you off, but the underlying love and care for you shone through.
Despite feeling a pang in his chest, a sliver of guilt for the situation, he knew he couldn’t let it go, not today, not with you right in front of him and clearly went against his wishes when you were supposed to take it easy.
His voice was stern now, worried yet firm, his blindfold long pulled from his forehead to let his gaze search for answers in yours. He didn’t want to scold you, but he absolutely had to get to the bottom of this. Turning to Shoko, he let out an exaggerated sigh, his voice gravel as he spoke “Shoko, how is she?”
The woman hummed softly, rubbing a hand over her tired eyes before glancing at Satoru "Not as bad as before, except for some minor cramps from overexerting herself. Heart palpitation, it’s a good thing those kids brought her here. But please, she insists on going back to teach tomorrow."
Satoru's nostrils flared,m, shaking his head in disbelief. A nervous laugh escaped his lips, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Absolutely not," he replied firmly, turning back to address you sternly. "You heard her. You're not going back tomorrow. You’re not coming back at all. I’m putting you on bed rest from now on"
You expected much, sure, but home jail? An exaggerated gasp left your mouth, hand reaching to squeeze his arm, a gesture of pleading and disapproval as you tugged on his sleeve, puppy eyes trying to guilt trip him into letting this go but the frown remained on his face. “b-but Toru-“
"No," this time, there was no place for discussion, his mind already set on things and completely convinced. "you stay home, no ifs, ands, or buts.”
You opened your mouth to argue, but Satoru quickly raised a hand. "I don't want to hear it," he said decisively, already feeling a headache form from the nerves "How is it looking?”
“I’d prefer this cutie stay here for an observation, at least till tomorrow” the brunette’s words carried tingle of amusement seeing your face contract in betrayal as the two seemed to have a silently gang up on you “S-shoko!”
"It's settled then. I won't let you go anywhere,” he declared, turning to the woman. “Make sure you put your foot down if she tries to argue.”
"You really underestimate me don't you?" You retorted back, your voice rising slightly as you pointing an accusative finger at both of them. "I am fine, really! I've been through worse, remember?"
You placed a hand on your stomach, giving it a gentle pat as if trying to reassure yourself. "I promise, I promise I will be careful next time. Really, really!"
“No do, you’re staying.” Satoru once again, was quick to shush you down, taking a seat on a chair next to your bed, not stopping himself from feeling your stomach, as if to reassure himself you were once again safe and sound, like he wanted you to. “Now take care of those grapes, and I don’t want you leaving any behind”
Your eyes landed on Satoru's concerned expression, softness creeping into your voice, and you couldn't help but feel guilty for upsetting him.
After all, he was merely trying to protect you.
Defeated, you sighed softly and relented, a small frown tugging at your lips. Crossing your legs, you resulted in taking one of the fruits from the container, clicking your tongue in displeasure, but what could you do? It was quiet clear by now that you lost this argument.
“Fine then. I’ll be lying on the couch like the fat potato I am” you whined but frankly, today had just been wearing you out. Regardless, it was clear you understood why he was upset. It wasn’t common for you, but with your current state, it was due to accept the defeat as it was.
A small sigh you, and you found it all frustrating and sweet enough to just roll your eyes. “You're way too overprotective, you know that?”
Your smile softened when he laughed along, letting his hand rest on your knee. "you expect any less from me?" his gaze drifted towards you affectionately, the tension starting to dissipate, replaced by the usual comforting warmth you shared.
Taking a deep breath, Satoru’s worries seemed to calm. "I mean it though" he said it gently, trying not to scold, but inform. Seeing the examination records, the earlier imprints of distress and worry still evident in his eyes, Satoru tried to take a deep breath. "no more working for you, little lady"
You gave him a small nod, a sweet, apologetic smile brushing across your lips. He knew you'd be stubborn, always had been, but he also knew you'd try to make it up to him. And perhaps, to some, it was a surprising sight—the way you’d try to comfort him in this situation.
“You’re always worried” muttering softly, you laced your fingers with his in an attempt to take away his worry.
“I guess I am” humming softly, the anger he felt previously was distant now as he leaned closer, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss, his hand sneaking teasingly towards your chest-
"you guys are gross" shouting from the other side of the room, Shoko’s voice broke you two off in an instant "either stop mingling in my infirmary or i'm banning your husband from visitng"
"hey, no fair-"
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hysteria-things · 8 months
Note
can u do a story of like chris sturnolio being a dad ??
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UNEXPECTED TURNS
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𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: dad!chris x reader
𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: at first, you were devastated to find out that you were pregnant at this age. now, realization hits and turns out it’s not so bad for not only you; but chris too.
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: FLUFFY, angst in the beginning, flashbacks, panic attack
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 760
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: IVE BEEN WAITING FOR A REQUEST LIKE THIS I FIND THESE SO CUTE!
was gonna save this for another day but i’m too impatient LMAO
i’m trying to get through my inbox so there should be lots to come! hope you like it anon :)
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*flashback*
‘pregnant’
you read the word at least ten times on the test in your violently shaking hand.
a sob leaves your throat as you tremble. “no.” you choke out.
you try your best to grab your phone and text chris, your boyfriend. you need him here, and you need him here now.
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“y/n?” his voice echoes through the house. you steadied your breathing, but you’re still a trembling and crying mess on the bathroom floor.
you hear footsteps coming up the steps. “y/n?” he calls out again.
he runs over to the bathroom door and opens it. the panic shoots through your body again when you see him, and you breathe heavily. “i’m sorry.” you say between sobs.
chris worries all over his face. he kneels to you to take your shaky hands in his. “sorry about what? oh my god, what happened?”
you point to the counter where the test is. he knits his eyebrows together and grabs it off the countertop. he scans over it for a few beats before looking into your crying eyes.
he sets the test down, taking his thumbs and trying his best to rub as many tears away. “i’m sorry.” you repeat.
he brings your head into his chest and tries to shush you. “you have nothing to be sorry about.”
he rubs up and down your body in a soothing motion, whispering in your ear. he rocks you from side to side.
his chin is resting on top of your head. “i’m with you on whatever decision you make. you know that right?” he tells you, kissing your head.
you nod. your ear is on his heartbeat, which is strangely calm. you close your eyes to focus on the rhythm, your breathing steadying along with it.
*9 months later*
tears of joy leave your eyes when the doctor carefully places your daughter in your arms. chris held onto your hand tight the whole birth. he rests his forehead on yours and kisses your nose, then the top of your little girl’s head.
“thank you for giving her to me.” you smile at chris.
“are you kidding? you’re the one that went through hell for nine months.” you and him both chuckle. “you’re a warrior, y/n. don’t ever forget that.”
holding your child for the first time is a different type of love. you never want to let them go.
despite both of you being 20, you know you guys can be the best parents to your baby girl.
*now*
chris sighs when he hears your one-year-old in the pack-and-play he set up in the living room. she’s been crying nonstop.
he gets up from the couch and walks over, leaning to get a better view of her. “what is it, little miss?” he says, reaching into the pack-and-play to pick her up.
she stops her crying to look at her father for a split second, but then goes back to the tantrum. “ma-ma.” she cries.
“your mama is taking a nap. she needs to rest.”
that only makes sadie cry harder, and chris tuts. “let’s take a look outside.”
you guys bought a house during your pregnancy, still close to his and your family. it came with a beautiful backyard.
ever since sadie was born, she has been so fascinated by looking outside. it always worked to calm down her little outbursts.
chris turns so his back is facing the glass door. her head rests on his shoulder as she looks at the summer greenery and flowers. her crying immediately stops, and now she’s doing rapid sniffles.
he rubs her back in a soothing circular motion and rocks from side to side. “i don’t like when you’re this upset, little miss. everything’s okay, i promise.”
her cheek rests on his shoulder, her breathing going back to normal.
when it seems to be a little too quiet, he peeks to look at her face, seeing sadie holding on tight to his arm and sleeping peacefully.
he rolls his eyes but smiles. “so dramatic.” he mumbles. “i wonder who you get it from.”
chris walks the sleeping infant into her nursery to set her down in the crib. before doing so, he kissed her on the cheek.
he stays there to admire what’s in front of him. she most definitely has your face and hair, but she has his blue eyes.
this was not a part of the plan in your relationship; at least not this soon. however, you guys wouldn’t want it any other way.
and that’s the beauty of unexpected turns.
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𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!
@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom
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kiss-me-cill-me · 9 months
Note
could you write a fic about any cillian character, of ur choice, were its the readers first time and he is really sweet and gentle? Luv your writings btw!!!
Any character, you say...? 👀 Well, then I guess it's time to take a shot at my white whale. I love zombies, I love 28 Days Later, and I love Jim. I have been somewhat avoiding writing for him because I didn't feel like I had any strong concepts for a fic, and I struggle to get his "voice" right in my head for the dialogue. But gosh darn it, the world needs more Jim fics. And I feel like this prompt just fits him. Thank you for the request, anon, and for giving me the push I needed!
Morning Light
Pairing: Jim (28 Days Later) x Reader
Word Count: 3.6k
Summary: In a rare moment of peace in a strange new world, you and Jim find comfort in each other's arms.
Warnings: Smut, loss of virginity (for reader, not Jim), oral (f receiving), praise, brief mention of past attempted sexual assault (basically what happens in canon), for the purposes of this fic we're gonna pretend that Jim doesn't get shot in the stomach lmao
***Please read the warnings before continuing. Minors DNI***
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Jim’s lips taste like something you can’t quite put your finger on. Whatever it is, it has you swooning. Dizzy with desire as you inhale; trying to steady your breath while your hand trails down over his bare chest.
“We really don’t have to,” he murmurs.
“I know,” you reply. “But I want to.”
You lean in for another kiss. Bodies pressed so tightly together, laying on the rickety little bed in the tiny cottage you now call home, you truly do want nothing more. Jim, stretched lazily out beneath you, brings a hand up to cup your face and deepen the kiss. Your senses swell with that scent, whatever it is, and your eyes flutter closed against the light that streams in through the windows.
“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling away again, just enough to speak.
His nose still brushes softly against yours, and his thumb trails over your cheek. You feel yourself melt deeper into his touch, almost too distracted to remember to respond.
“I’m sure.”
“But… really? So soon after…”
You know what he’s about to say. What he doesn’t want to remember; choosing instead to let himself trail off as he smooths his fingers over your jawline. But that - that horrible thing that almost happened - is all part of the reason why you want Jim so badly. You want your first time to be with him. To be special; with someone you truly care for. 
Years and years ago, when all of your friends had been so desperate to grow up and run headfirst into their sexuality, you had been content to wait. But now, things have changed. Being alive suddenly feels fragile and impermanent, and your dangerous encounter with the soldiers has taught you that life doesn’t wait for you. Nor does it wait for that perfect moment.
Although, this moment here with Jim does feel somehow perfect. Jim’s body against yours is warm, and even with both of your sweaters flung over the side of the bed, you feel a heat washing over your chest as Jim wraps his strong arms around you a little tighter.
“Jim, are you really the nervous one here?” You laugh, your voice a bit airy and high as it betrays your own nerves.
“M’not nervous,” he scoffs. “I’m just… I don’t want to hurt you, or force you into anything.”
You let your body sink into his. Jim pulls you even closer, pressing your weight into his chest. Your forehead rests lightly against his, noses still touching as you laugh again.
“Girl gets you naked in bed like this, and you still think you’re forcing her?” you tease.
“Well, fair.” Jim relents. “You were the one who took off my clothes.”
Jim nuzzles into another kiss as he speaks, breaking some of the tension and making you clutch at his chest. This time, his lips linger against yours a little longer, parting just slightly so the tip of his tongue can dart out. You feel the ache inside of you deepen, your body calling out to his.
“But you’re sure, though?” Jim asks again. He moves his hand to your shoulder, steadying you. “You do want to? We don’t have t-”
His words are cut off by your hand drifting lower, until your fingers are wrapped tightly around him. Despite Jim’s insistence that you don’t “have to,” it’s abundantly clear that he wants to.
His skin is like silk under your fingers. Your hand moves slowly up and down, coaxing him on as you bite at his lip. Jim breaks the kiss to lean his head back into the pillow, eyes still shut as an expression of bliss overtakes his features.
“Okay - you’re sure you haven’t done this before?” he jokes, one blue eye cracking open to look at you.
You try to contain a laugh.
“Don’t flatter me,” you tease back. “It’s probably just been months since you’ve gotten any…”
“Ouch, insulting my masculinity and yet she still expects me to fuck her.”
Jim meets your sly look with one of his own, just as your expression crumbles into embarrassment. His smirk quickly turns into a smile, seeing the effect his words have.
“And she likes a little dirty talk, does she?”
Your face heats up even more, and Jim kisses the tip of your nose. 
“Sorry, love. Just can’t resist teasin’ ya,” he hums.
Despite your inexperience, you feel certain that you’re not supposed to feel this flustered. But, Jim has that effect on you. He always has. The pressure that’s been steadily building between your legs suddenly feels even more uncomfortable.
“Having second thoughts?” Jim laughs as you wriggle against him.
“You wish,” you challenge, pressing your nose against his a bit harder.
Suddenly, Jim grabs your waist and flips you over, so that his weight is pressed over you. He sinks a kiss into the hollow of your neck - still gentle, but with a hint of lust now that’s becoming impossible to ignore.
“Guess I might as well just give in if y’want it so badly,” Jim whispers, his breath fanning hot against your chest.
His words send a thrill of excitement through you; bursting out from your lungs and rushing all the way down to your toes. You bring your hands up to his shoulders, clinging to him as he pulls away from you. You’re confused for a moment, until he looks up into your eyes as he sinks lower down your body.
“How’s this?” Jim starts. “First I’ll eat you out, an’ then we can see how you’re feeling.”
The air seems to catch in your throat, but you nod. Jim plants a soft kiss on your stomach before drifting lower, hands parting your legs so that he can settle in.
“Lucky me,” Jim says, taking a long look at you. “Pretty face and a pretty pus-”
“Jim!” you cry, covering your face with your hands.
He kisses the inside of your leg, teasing with a gentle nip of his teeth.
“Ah, don’t get all shy on me, now,” he murmurs.
You look down to see a devilish glint in Jim’s eyes, staring back up at you. They’re so blue, you think you could drown in them. But, you fight to shake yourself out of the trance.
“It’s hard not to when you’re… looking at it,” you complain, laughing nervously.
“Hey, don’t be embarrassed - I mean it. You’re beautiful.”
Your cheeks burn hotter than ever as Jim continues.
“Every part of you is beautiful.”
He kisses your leg again, and before you have a chance to respond, his lips have moved over your core, and you gasp. Jim’s mouth is warm and wet; his tongue pressed flat against you as he gives you a moment to get used to the sensation. It’s so different from anything you’ve ever felt. Of course, you had touched yourself there before - but Jim’s tongue is nothing like the rough pads of your fingers. It’s so soft, and you feel yourself sink further into the mattress, prompting a low creak from the ancient bedframe.
Jim’s tongue moves just a centimeter, brushing up against your clit as he sucks gently into his mouth. You can’t help the soft sigh that leaves you, or the way your fingers grab onto the bed sheets, fabric bunching up in your grip. 
“How’s that feel, love?” Jim asks, breaking away.
“It’s… wow,” you answer, already a little out of breath.
“Rave reviews,” Jim jokes, smile creeping back over his face. “Tell all your friends, yeah?”
You have half a mind to shove him, if only you could find the willpower to reach down between your legs. As it is, all you can do is let out another breathy sigh. Your body feels strangely heavy, and you use every ounce of your strength to move your hips down toward him.
“Jim… more,” you plead.
You expect him to make another quip, but instead, you feel his tongue press against you again, the fan of his breath tickling you as he sighs happily. Your fingers curl, and your back arches. One of Jim’s hands comes up to find yours, peeling your fingers out from the blankets so that they can intertwine with his. You squeeze his hand, feeling yourself grow more and more desperate as the swirl of new sensations overwhelm you.
“J-Jim-”
You barely get to start your sentence before the pleasure reaches its peak, washing over you like the rays of soft sunlight still pouring in through the windows. Your sharp cry turns into a gasp, breath hitching as your whole body seems to buzz. Jim’s hand in yours anchors you, as his lips kiss you gently through your release.
When he sits up, Jim’s face is just a bit too smug.
“What are you smiling at?” you groan, throwing your head back into the pillow to stare up at the ceiling.
“Making you feel good,” Jim answers sincerely.
He kisses his way back up your body, finally pressing his lips to your shoulder and leaving another small bite.
“How are you feeling?” he asks.
You sigh, letting all of the air leave your lungs. The pause lingers for a brief moment before you answer.
“Like I’m floating.”
“That good, huh?”
You can practically hear the smirk in Jim’s voice. Weakly, you bat at his arms.
“Don’t get all cocky,” you warn.
“I thought that’s what you wanted.”
Jim really is unbearable. You look at each other for a moment, Jim’s eyes fixed intently on your face, while you can still hardly focus on what’s in front of you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.
“Still want to keep going?” Jim asks you.
“Mmmm,” you sigh, nodding your head.
Jim’s hand slides down to cup your sex, one finger brushing against your entrance. He leans up to kiss you properly, pausing at the feel of your tongue in his mouth as you press past his lips. Whatever you had tasted there before was gone; replaced by your own slightly tangy arousal. Jim groans, and a deep hum fills your mouth.
“Let me know if you want me to stop,” he whispers.
But as soon as he pushes past your resistance, you know there’s no chance of you stopping him. The stretch is too good. You’ve done this before to yourself, too - but your fingers are slender compared to Jim’s. His fill you up and have you nearly seeing stars as you cling to him, moving to grasp his arms for support.
“Feels good?”
You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. The stretch only stings a little bit, and you’re so wet you barely even notice. The pleasure takes over as Jim pumps in and out of you, coating his finger with your slick.
“One more,” you beg.
“Be patient,” Jim scolds, as he continues to slowly work you open. “Try to relax a bit more.”
You do; letting your body settle down onto the mattress. As you relax your muscles, trying to focus again on your steady breathing, Jim kisses the edge of your jaw.
“Okay,” he says. “Tell me if this is too much.”
Despite your best attempts to loosen up, the addition of a second finger is just a bit painful, stretching you beyond anything you’ve felt before. You jump, a little surprised, then relax into the feel of it.
“Still alright?”
“Mmm-hm,” you reply, breathing slowly out through your nose.
“Good,” Jim breathes. “Doing so well for me, love.”
His words make you melt, and you feel yourself clenching around his fingers. Jim lets out a low moan.
“Fuck,” he laughs. “You’re gonna feel amazing. Can’t wait ‘til you’re wrapped around me.”
There’s that familiar heat on your face, rushing in as Jim makes your whole body burn with his words yet again. Not as filthy as before, but somehow the genuine lust in his voice is even worse. You feel him yearning for you; still pressed hard against your leg as he patiently stretches you out. You tilt your head back into the pillows, silently begging him to kiss your neck, and Jim’s lips press over your pulse.
“Jim?” you sigh.
“Hm?”
“Can you please stop stalling and fuck me now?”
You feel Jim smirk against your neck, clearly enjoying the fact that you have a dirty mouth, too - when you want to. He presses one more kiss to your collarbone.
“Stalling, am I? First time I’ve heard a girl call it that.”
Jim laughs, briefly, and you feel his breath fan over you again.
“I’d ask if you’re sure you’re ready,” he taunts. “But I really don’t think I’ve ever made anyone this wet before.”
You’re so turned on you almost forget to be embarrassed, but the feeling of Jim shifting to line up with your entrance is enough to make that burning heat creep over your cheeks again.
“Are you ready, though?” Jim asks, kissing you quickly before pulling back to let you answer.
“I am.”
You reach up to wrap your arms tight around him again as he sinks into you, pressing forward inch by inch. Your eyes widen by the time he’s halfway in, shocked at how it just keeps going. Jim feels your hesitation and stops.
“Everything alright?” he pants. Clearly, Jim is having a bit of trouble composing himself, too.
“It’s fine,” you reply. “Just… big.”
Jim laughs, a little more strained than usual as your walls press all around him.
“You’ll really have to stop stroking my ego like that if you want this to last more than five minutes, love,” he teases.
“Jim…” you start to complain.
“I know, I know. ‘Shut up and fuck me,’ she says,” Jim mutters. He presses into you a bit more, and a soft, desperate sigh leaves your lips. “Or at least, she would if she could think straight,” he continues.
He’s right; you’re not thinking of anything other than him, and how he’s filling you up so completely. Stretching out your walls and touching places inside of you that you didn’t know even existed, until now. Replacing the dull ache of your arousal with an unfamiliar pressure - but certainly not an unwelcome one.
“How’s it feel?” Jim asks.
“It’s… different. Feels kind of weird,” you admit.
“Okay, you don’t have to keep my ego in check that much,” Jim laughs. His eyes meet yours for a brief second, and then close. “But, fuck, you feel so fucking good.”
Jim’s face dips down to your shoulder, and you can tell that he’s barely still able to hold it together. Although you had been joking earlier, you’re certain that it truly has been months for Jim. You can’t say for sure when the last time he got laid was, but it had to have been before the start of everything. Poor guy. This is the perfect opportunity to mess with him. Call it payback for all the teasing.
“Alright,” you sigh, trying to keep your voice light and jovial. It’s harder than it should be when your heart is pounding out of your chest. “I got what I wanted out of you; we can stop now.”
Jim groans above you, his forehead pressing even deeper into the crook of your shoulder.
“You’re joking,” he whines, one hand gripping at your waist. His fingers tighten a little. “Please say you’re joking.”
You stay silent, lips pursed together in a barely-contained smile. Jim pulls back to look at you, and instantly notices the smug look on your face.
“You’re unbelievable,” Jim huffs, pressing his lips against your neck once again in a hungry kiss.
He pinches your hip, making you squirm. Jim steadies you, holding you in place as he plants another kiss on your lips, then pulls back.
“We haven’t even gotten to the good part yet,” he teases.
“You mean the good part wasn’t watching you almost cum all over the sheets just from eating me out?”
Now it’s Jim’s turn to be flustered, and you watch with delight as a soft dusting of pink crosses his cheeks.
“You’d better watch it,” Jim says, squeezing you again. “I was gonna be gentle, you know. But if you keep this up, I might just have to fuck you silly.”
You giggle, the sound of your bright laughter filling the room. For a few seconds, the only thing in the world that matters is Jim. Every moment that’s brought you here, no matter how painfully etched in stone, is worth it to be here with him.
“Will you, though?” you say, bringing Jim’s face a bit closer so yours can look into his eyes. “Be gentle?”
“Of course,” Jim hums, leaning down to kiss your soft lips. “Are you still feeling okay?”
“Yes…”
And you are. You've gotten used to the stretch, and the strange pressure has built into a need that has you fighting to stop yourself from pushing up against Jim’s hips, desperate for friction.
“You sure?” Jim asks, sensing that something has been left unsaid.
“I just… I want to feel you move,” you admit, hiding your face in the crook of his neck.
Jim turns his head to kiss your temple, letting his lips hover over your warm skin.
“That's the good part, love,” Jim teases. “Wrap your legs around me,’kay?”
You do as he says, bringing your legs up to fold around his waist. It causes Jim to hit at a new angle inside you, and for a second you think about backing out. This feels like it could be too much; like he's able to press too deeply inside of you - and the thought of giving someone else so much of yourself is daunting.
But when Jim starts to move, gently and carefully, all of your worries disappear. The first few times he thrusts feel a bit strange, but soon, the feeling is making you lightheaded in the best possible way. Not to mention the way that the swell of his head seems to part you, making you clench at his absence and sigh in pure bliss when he fills you back up. You can feel every inch of yourself as he slowly rocks in and out, hips staying close to avoid overwhelming you.
“Jim!” you cry, squeezing your legs around him a little harder.
“You like it there?” he grunts, his voice gentle but laced with desire.
He changes his angle to hit the spot again, and this time your fingers press into his back. Jim kisses you, swallowing your moans as you feel yourself building toward your release. This time, with Jim pressing deep inside you, you feel yourself clamp down around him.
“Gonna come for me again, pretty girl?” Jim whispers.
Your body is too rigid to even nod as you feel it finally wash over you - a wave of pleasure more intense than you can handle. You're panting and laughing all at once as Jim presses kisses all over your face.
“That was incredible,” he praises, softly. 
You look up to see him, his face framed so perfectly in the glow of the morning light. His lips are slightly parted, awe plainly written in the way his eyes trail over you. You have a sudden urge to run your fingers through his cropped hair, and press his mouth to yours.
But instead, Jim leans down to give you another gentle kiss. That taste on his lips is back again, slightly sweet and utterly addictive. 
“Enjoy your first time, love?” Jim teases, pulling himself out of you with one final, toe-curling drag. He kisses you again, lips pressed firm against yours like there’s truly nowhere else in the world he’d rather be.
You surface from your post-sex haze just long enough to be confused. Aren't these things supposed to end with a little more… bravado?
“Jim, aren't you gonna…? Don't you want to…?”
“Not this time, love,” he cuts in. “Like I said, don't want to hurt you.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me!” you protest.
Jim pauses, still hovering just above you. He leans down to whisper in your ear, his low voice getting a shade darker.
“Maybe not, but I do think I might break the poor bed if I let myself do everything I want to ya,” he murmurs.
“We can sleep on the floor,” you say, responding without hesitation.
Jim laughs softly, trailing his fingers over the swell of your hip. He pulls back to look at you again, blue eyes swimming with lust.
“Don't worry, love - you look so good like this, I'm not gonna be able to resist it for long. But for now…”
Jim flops down onto the rickety bed, pulling you with him to rest on his chest. The rhythmic rise and fall of his breath makes you feel calm, soothing you all the way down from your high. Jim brings a hand up to cradle your neck, pressing you into him just a bit more so that he can lean down to kiss your forehead.
As you lay there together, your eyes flutter closed.
“Jim?”
“Mm?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?” he scoffs. 
Same playful Jim that you first fell for, weeks ago now. You can't help but smile, and snuggle up a bit closer.
“For always being here for me,” you answer.
“Of course, love.” Jim's breaths are slowing down now, lulling you into the same sleep that he's quickly falling into. “Any time.”
You kiss him, lips pressing into his bare chest, and Jim’s arms squeeze you tightly. As the sunlight streams in through the dusty windows, blanketing both of you in its warmth, you realize just how lucky you are. You press an ear against his chest, listening to the thrum of Jim’s heartbeat.
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