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icallhimjoey · 8 days

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Drown In You

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: In the shower with Joe, words get spoken that hold nothing back. This is the cut scene, the one entirely jumped over, from part 5 of Reinvent Love, remastered in full HD for your enjoyment. Full smut, little plot (although, read Reinvent Love because it'll help)!

CW / disclaimer: 18+, smut, language, rpf, fem!reader, reader has hair that needs to be brushed after showering

Author’s note: okay so the horny bitches in my inbox have let themselves be heard, and who am i to tell you no? here you go my cumcum twats, enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.2K

“I’ll wait.”

Old hair product mixed with sweat ran into your eyes as the shower stream hit you right over the head and… wait. What? You didn’t think you heard that right.

Joe was holding you, because you’d let the surface crack. You didn’t know if it was his repeated asking for you to talk to him, or if it was how he kept looking at you. But you’d cracked, and you’d seen Joe’s eyes flare for just a second, like what he’d been asking for actually didn’t turn out to be what he wanted. Immediate regret punched him right in the stomach when you showed the smallest bit of emotion.

Joe worried about you.

Worried he was pushing you further away whilst he was trying to keep you close.

Worried he had made mistakes too big to rectify.

Worried you were never going to tell him how you actually felt and he’d just have to go off body language, which, you’d been doing that and it had been fine, but some situations called for explanations.

Like this one.

He just thought you’d get angry with him. Not that you’d cry. In hindsight, he didn’t fully understand why that hadn’t been the expectation, though. You always felt with your whole body. Heavy emotion and tears always found you fast.

So he’d curled his arms around you then, and it took you a good while to control the spasms inside of your chest. You weren’t technically crying, you didn’t think, but if Joe was going to press you to talk one more time, you’d burst right into sobs.

And then he said, “I’ll wait.”

That made you look up at him, forcing him to slide one of his arms from around your head.

“I’ll wait for you. I can be patient.”

So you had heard him right.

The line in between your eyebrows grew deeper as you frowned at him, because what the fuck did he mean he was going to wait? And, in addition, what the fuck did he mean he could be patient?

Joe had just followed you around the flat trying to provoke you into arguing – that’s essentially what he’d been trying to do. Bold of him to claim he could be patient.

You were in the shower together and you knew Joe was just trying to say nice things by ways of comforting you, probably. You hoped that was what was going on. But he was getting it so wrong.

“But…” you started, trying to both make sense of what Joe meant whilst simultaneously thinking of how to tell him he was dead wrong. “I’m right here.”

And you had been.

Joe was the one that left.

You remembered Joe telling you, “Yea, you’re not going anywhere.” in a tender moment when you were trying your best to comfort him for a change, and you’d reacted the same then. Of course you weren’t going to go anywhere. You were there.

Always there.

“I’m right here.”

Joe blinked a couple of times, and looked a little lost, face blank and unassuming.

“I’m right– Joe, what do you mean, you’ll wait? Have we not been– is this not what we’ve been…”

Doing?

You couldn’t finish the sentence and furrowed your brow at how words seemed to escape you, all earlier bravery gone, because it sounded a lot like a big confession that you’d not vocalized before, and what if you were wrong?

What if Joe was going to tell you that, actually, no, what you were saying was not what you had been doing at all, you stupid bitch.

He wouldn’t say that.

But that’s what it would feel like if you were wrong.

Your brain was swimming, thinking thoughts and trying to draw conclusions where there weren’t any to be drawn when suddenly, it all clicked into place for Joe.

He was such an idiot.

Before you knew what was happening, Joe had you shrieking. He’d bent at the knees, got both arms around your waist and picked you up. It was a cute celebratory thing, because whatever you’d said had been all Joe had wanted to hear for weeks. But it was also really fucking terrifying, because you were in a wet slippery bath and you both had wet slippery bodies and the only way Joe was centering his gravity was by his face that was smushed against your chest and this was exactly how sometimes people got bad concussions.

“Joe–” you squeaked from your throat, and you were about to swear at him. Tell him to put you down. That he was a fucking idiot. That he was stupid and that this was dangerous, despite the smile that was already playing at your face.

But then before you could get any of that out, Joe let you slip down and kissed you hard, right on the mouth. Your back bent away from him and had you disappear into the shower stream, but Joe just followed, hands squeezing your sides and his lips roughly pressed to yours, not willing to break contact.

You tried wrapping your head around how you got from trying your best not to cry to being kissed in the way that you were, already feeling drunk on the giggles you were swallowing, and it felt a little ridiculous.

And then Joe spoke through his kisses and said words you didn’t think you would ever accept from him.

“I love you.”

But actually, it was fine.

You were surprised how easily joy bubbled up from deep inside your gut at hearing him mumble his confession. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth, but Joe kept his mouth right there.

“Joe,” you pushed him at the shoulders, and instead of moving away, Joe decided to move closer, feet squeaking against white acrylic. You got cornered until your back touched the tiles and you laughed as you turned your head to break the kiss.

Joe just followed, curled around and got you from the side and, “Joe!” you giggled, because there was water streaming straight into your face, and you knocked one of the shampoo bottles down into the bath, and Joe kept hogging your mouth and you needed that to breathe and– oh.

Joe was hard.

You felt it against your hip and Joe felt how it startled you slightly.

“No, I’m sorry. Ignore that,” you could hear how there was laughter stuck inside of his voice too, but there was something urgent there too.

“I love you. Did you hear me?” he bent to make eye contact, got your chin into his hand to force it. “I love you. I said I love–”

“I love you too.”

The wet words slipped out before your brain could even catch up to it, voice way softer than Joe’s, but you didn’t mean the words any less.

Somehow it was an easy thing to say. It helped that Joe said it first, so you were just parroting which didn’t feel half as embarrassing as you imagined it could have been.

Your words stilled Joe’s whole body, just for a moment, completely frozen, and then he groaned with both eyes squeezed shut and let his head fall, face first into your shoulder.

You grinned when you looked down and saw the direct effect of what you’d said.

Made you want to say it again.

“I love you too,” you made it sound extra breathy that time, not even sure if Joe would be able to hear it over the shower water clattering into the bath, but you could tell he caught the words fine from the way Joe’s knees gave out for a split second, dick jumping and already leaking.

You loved Joe.

“Hey, I love you. Did you hear me? I said I lovemmpf–” Joe got a hand over your mouth just for the sheer agony of what it was doing to him. You took your shot and bit right into his fingers as you smiled.

“Stop it, you’ve got to– you can’t–”

Joe didn’t get the chance to finish the sentence. You got him back in the best way; with wet kisses and with scraping teeth. With hands in his hair that you used to push him right against your face. With a leg that hiked itself up until your knee touched his hip, prompting Joe to get his hands under your ass, lifting you up and pushing you against the wall in an attempt to slip inside.

But all of it was too slippery.

Too wet.

And you were laughing too much to make it work.

So you kissed, with both feet sort of steady in the bath and let your hands touch bits of Joe that made him flinch.

You were sharing your first shower together, and it felt sort of momentous.

“I love you,” Joe said again like they were the only words he knew how to use now, dragging his lips down your throat, pressing kisses to your chest.

“I love you, too,” you replied, biting your teeth into your bottom lip whilst working both hands on him, using one underneath and making Joe gasp.

Joe kept trailing down more until he kneeled and you lost your grip on him. Without warning he pressed his whole face into you, and both your hands found his shoulders as you worriedly tried pushing him back.

“No, Joe,” you pushed until you could look him in the eye. “Stop, baby, you’ll drown.”

Baby.

Joe looked up at you and quirked his eyebrows as he smirked, both because you’d never called him baby before and because of the double entendre.

You meant that Joe could drown because you were in the shower and if his mouth was busy, surely he would end up inhaling the water that ran down your body until he’d fucking choke.

Joe, however, took it to mean something else.

And he wasn’t exactly wrong, either.

“I mean…” he started, making eye-contact with what was right in front of him. Pretty. Glistening. Dripping. Joe was about to say some stupid shit aloud, was about to say that he loved her, maybe even just as much as he loved you, because, Jesus Christ, he really fucking did.

“I’ll happily drown in you.” he got a small kiss in where he wanted to so desperately kiss you, but then you laughed and said, “No. No drowning today.” as you sunk down to your own knees, joining him sat down in the tub.

Joe easily accepted you, hands finding yours to help you down safely, happy to oblige and move to where you wanted him to be, which was sat on his arse where the water hit him overhead.

With his eyes barely open, he grinned widely as you moved to sit on his lap, one knee either side of him, arms slung around his neck. It was a tight fit and skin squeaked against the side of the tub. Joe thought that surely this couldn’t actually be nicer than him getting mouth on you, but, sure.

Your pace, remember?

Your lead.

“I love you,” you mouthed as you went in for open-mouthed kisses which Joe happily accepted, pulling you into him hard, trapping himself in between the two of you and starting quick little tilts of his hips. You helped by finding a rhythm of your own, rubbing over him and holding Joe as close as you could to add pressure where he was so clearly looking for it.

“I love you,” Joe breathed in reply, and they were barely even words at this point. Just wet vowels falling from a gasping mouth that tried telling you how good this already felt, and that he wasn’t even inside yet.

Joe’s lips tinged just as shiny red as the tip of him, and you weren’t sure if you were working up a sweat more now than you had during your run, but you knew that this activity was much preferred over the other.

When you finally lifted up just slightly more and used your fingers to line Joe up to slip inside, you saw how droplets of water spat from his lips as he mouthed a desperate, “Please.”

Joe didn’t need to beg.

But it was lovely when he did.

Made you stall, just to hear him say it again. Have him ask extra nicely.

You felt how Joe’s grip on your hips strengthened, fingertips digging deeper into your flesh.

“Please, please. Baby, please, can you–”

You sunk down onto him, making him disappear inside of you entirely. The loud moan that escaped you surprised Joe enough to move a panicked hand up to cover your mouth.

That just made you whine louder.

“Shh– shhh–,” Joe trembled through shushes, trying for eye-contact, “You can’t– you... you gotta be quiet. You...” Joe faltered, hand moving to hold you by the side of the face, fingers disappearing into wet strands that were then used to pull you in closer to kiss.

God, he fucking loved you so much.

Could you feel it? Could you feel how anguished he felt that he only had two hands to touch you with? Could you feel how feverish and lightheaded you made him feel? Could you feel how there was a deep craving inside of him that only you could satisfy for him?

He wanted you to feel it.

Feel his love.

Joe wanted you to feel how much he loved you, so he used his mouth where he could, and used his hands where he could, and he imagined how the water running down the two of you was getting rid of all the bullshit.

You were being cleansed of all the bad until there’d be only good left.

You were having sex in the bath until it’d be nothing but just love there.

You rode Joe in the bath until your knees starting hurting too much. Until the water than ran down both your faces became too annoying. Until your hands knocked all the other bottles of shampoo and conditioner into the bath behind Joe. Until Joe got too freaked out that he couldn’t shut you up, and wasn’t that an insane contrast to whatever he had been trying to do the night before?

You hadn’t minded Joe trying to get you to be loud.

But Joe trying to get you to stay quiet was infinitely better.

It made you want to be bratty about it. Be loud on purpose. Get those eyes to flare and bulge, wet lips shushing you, but otherwise doing nothing else to stop you from feeling good. Because ultimately, that’s all Joe wanted; for him to be the one to make you feel good.

When Joe came, he made a sticky mess of the side of the bath.

When you came, you made a sticky mess of Joe’s fingers.

You kissed for a while after then, stood up out of the direct surge of water, and you loved this. Loved kissing Joe as your brain slowly found its way back to reality. It was all soft touches and slow movements and a terrible waste of water, but you fucking loved it.

When you thought Joe reached behind to finally turn the shower off, you found he instead reached for a bottle of shampoo.

“Turn around.”

Joe made sure you felt it.

Felt how fucking loved you were.

Massaged your scalp with love in his finger tips.

Rinsed your hair out with love in his palm.

Towel dried you after with love in his arms.

You had never felt this taken care of before, and when Joe reached for your hairbrush, he was surprised to turn back and find two wet shimmering eyes staring back at him in the large still slightly fogged-up mirror.

“Hey,” he curled an arm around your front and you let a wet chuckle escape you. “You okay? What’s going on with you right now?”

You shrugged and felt silly as you looked at each other via the mirror. Joe pressed a kiss against your ear, and you managed to squeak out, “I don’t know, just love you, I guess.”

That made Joe push his forehead to the side of your skull as he bit his lips into his mouth.

“Oh no,” he softly said, wincing slightly before you could see him smile. The effect of those words hadn’t just gone and changed within the last hour, so it seemed.

“I love y–” you were cut off by a louder groan as Joe bent down, hinging at his hips, pushing his head into your ribs and you couldn’t help but laugh as you let your arm scratch up and down his back.

“Maybe,” Joe breathed, eyes squeezed shut for a second in a bid to recompose himself. “Maybe don’t use those words for right now.”

“Got it.” you nodded. “No talking.”

That made Joe turn his head enough to see you smile in the mirror. Joe hadn’t just spent all morning to make you talk only for you to

“All right, no. That’s not what I said, I–” Joe moved to stand up straight again, and you saw your chance to make him double over again.

“I love you.”

“You– hnngg,” Joe had to turn and lean both elbows on the sink, head dropped down, having real trouble finding his breath.

“Tell you what,” you started, smile unable to be swiped from your face, and you grabbed Joe by his shoulders. “I’ll go make breakfast. Throw that pizza into the oven. We’ll have it on the sofa and then you can brush my hair after, all right?” you pressed a small kiss to his shoulder blade and wanted to say it again, just for fun, but decided you’d probably tortured him enough.

You tapped a shoulder to which Joe hummed and then went to leave the bathroom, turning around and unlocking the door.

“Hey,” Joe stopped you just before you walked out, and you looked over a shoulder to make eye contact with him in the mirror once again.

“Love you.” Joe’s constricted voice squeezed out, just because he couldn’t have you tell him three times and not say it back.

You smiled and used a hand to pretend to lock your lips up, making a breathy laugh escape Joe before he let his forehead drop into the crook of his elbow.

Loved you.

Joe loved you and he loved that you loved him. He just needed a minute.

You loved him.

That needed more than a second to acclimate to.

Your love.

He would so happily drown in it, you had no idea.

Perhaps, he should take the lead for just a little while. Make sure he was actually going to survive this.

His lead.

His time, maybe.

His pace, definitely.

But your love.

Always your love.

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson,

@choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn,

@dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee,

@figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4,

@hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke,

@lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr,

@munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories,

@phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn0628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420,

@songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73,

@werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#joseph quinn #joe quinn #joseph quinn x you #joe quinn x you #joseph quinn x reader #joe quinn x reader #joe quinn fanfic #joe quinn fanfiction #joseph quinn fanfic #joseph quinn fanfiction #reinvent love #define close #explain us #drown in you

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matchingbatbites · 2 months

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settle down (it'll all be clear)

T | 2.4k | Omegaverse, Alpha + Nurse Steve, Omega + New dad Eddie

Read on A03

Steve is going insane. He's only been inputting patient info into the system for fifteen minutes, but the repetition of it makes it feel like forever. The stack he's been working on barely has a dent in it, but he still thinks he could weep tears of joy when Claudia steps up to the counter and says “Steve, dear? We've got an Omega who-”

“I'm on it!” he replies before she can even finish. Just slams his current file shut and pushes the stack off to the side before standing. “Just tell me who and where.”

The woman chuckles and shakes her head fondly. “Eddie Munson, three-fourteen.”

Steve nods and gives her a grateful smile as he heads down the hall.

Sometimes omegas can become overwhelmed after childbirth, their hormones and emotions reaching a climax that leaves them in a state of extreme vulnerability. Usually they have a mate or family member nearby that can help settle them, help soothe their emotional overload.

But sometimes they don't have anyone. Single or abandoned omegas left to deal with it on their own usually have a harder time afterward, and it's become pretty common practice for newborn wards to have an alpha nurse on staff who can step in and fill that role.

Steve isn’t the only alpha nurse on shift tonight, but he still tends to be first choice for moments like this. Something about his demeanor is perfectly suited for the job, and he’s become an expert settler at this point. He knocks on the door to room 314 before stepping inside, and the Omega looks up at his entry.

The first thing Steve notices is the smell of burnt coffee that fills the room, acrid and bitter. The second is that the man looks exhausted. His brown hair is pulled into a haphazard bun, and there are fresh tears streaming down his face. He has a little bundle of blanket and baby clutched to his chest and his shoulders tremble beneath the hospital gown.

Steve's heart aches at the sight and he can’t help but step closer. “Hi there. My name is Steve, I'm an Alpha on staff here in the newborn ward. Nurse Claudia said you might need a bit of settling?”

The Omega - Eddie, Steve remembers - just looks at him for a moment, big brown eyes all shiny and wet from crying, and then he nods. His voice breaks on a weak “Please,” and Steve is at the bedside in an instant. He pulls off the scent patch on his wrist and offers his arm to Eddie, wanting to make sure the man isn't put off by his smoke and spice scent.

A bit of pride swells up as the Omega’s eyes flutter before squeezing shut, and when he nods in approval Steve peels off his remaining patches. He moves to grab the nearby chair, intending to drag it closer, but is stopped by a hand fisting in his shirt.

“Could you, uh. In the bed? Please?”

The man looks on the verge of a breakdown and Steve melts a little. Even though it’s not exactly protocol, he nods, and Eddie’s body seems to sag in relief. He scoots over and Steve sits next to him, purposely on top of the covers as he wraps his arm around those trembling shoulders and tucks Eddie close to his side. His low, rumbling purr starts up on instinct and Eddie’s breath hitches on a sob before he’s shoving his face into Steve’s neck. He just pulls Eddie closer, holds him tighter and lets him cry it out.

It takes a little while for Eddie to calm down, for the tears and the scent of burnt coffee to subside. It’s replaced with something sweet and milky, similar to the mocha lattes Steve likes to get on his way to work. It’s intoxicating, actually, and Steve can’t help but press his nose to Eddie’s temple and inhale.

“Sorry,” Eddie mutters after a bit. “I didn't think I'd be such a fucking mess.”

“Don’t apologize. You’d be surprised at how normal this is.”

The Omega pulls back a little, removing his face from the crook of Steve’s neck while keeping as much contact between them as possible. “What is? Having a breakdown and crying all over an absolute stranger?”

Steve chuckles and rubs Eddie’s shoulder in comfort. “Yeah, actually. There’s a reason we keep a few alphas on staff.”

“Glad to know it’s not just me, then,” he says, before his attention is pulled by a soft noise from the bundle in his arms. Steve looks down as well, getting his first look at Eddie’s pup, and oh, she’s beautiful. All rosy with a plump little face, and Steve feels helpless as he reaches out, touching her cheek as she coos softly.

“Doc says she has high alpha markers,” Eddie mutters. “I started thinking about how she’s going to be the complete opposite of me and I got so- so scared. That I won’t know what I’m doing, that I won’t be able to raise her the way she deserves. That I’ll be a fuck up like my parents were.”

Steve frowns and pulls Eddie closer so he can rest his cheek on the crown of brown curls, and Eddie starts to purr softly at the contact.

“I think the fact that you’re worried about all of that shows how much you care, shows that you want to be a good parent. And as someone who also had shitty parents, I think you will be.” He hears a soft sniffle and kicks his own purr back on, and the way it overlaps with Eddie’s makes something warm and fuzzy blossom in Steve’s chest.

They sit together for a long time, just chatting as Eddie’s pup - Ronnie, he learns - dozes away, clearly content. He learns that Eddie is single, that he knows who Ronnie’s dad is but doesn’t want the man anywhere near the little girl. They’d broken up before Eddie even realized he was pregnant, and he’d moved back to Hawkins as soon as he found out.

Steve learns that Eddie lives with his uncle, that the man was originally supposed to be here for the birth but of course, he happened to be working when Eddie went into early labor. In turn, he shares a bit about his own life, his job and his best friend and the not-kids he considers to be pack.

He only leaves when Ronnie eventually wakes up, crying and hungry, and reassures Eddie that all he has to do is call and Steve will be back in an instant.

Leaving the room - leaving Eddie - is hard, harder than it ever has been with anyone else. His inner alpha nearly whines as he walks away, as he puts distance between himself and the lonely Omega. He stops by the break room to apply some new scent patches and uses the chance to settle himself.

Yes, Eddie is single, and yes, his scent has a pull to it that Steve hasn’t experienced in a long time. But he’s a patient, and Steve can’t let his wires get crossed while the man is in his care. That would be beyond inappropriate, especially with the fragile state Eddie is in.

Steve goes back to the nurse’s station, intent on getting more of the files put into the system, and finds his stack about half the size of what it had been. He mentally reminds himself to thank Claudia when he sees her, and sits down to hopefully finish the tedious work.

Eddie calls him back to the room a few times, including once to sheepishly ask for his water pitcher to be refilled, and once to ask Steve to put Ronnie back in the bassinet so he can get some well-needed sleep. Steve stays with him even after he dozes off, slightly entranced by the sight of Eddie’s slender fingers held in his own, larger hand. It looks right, feels right, and he gives it a gentle squeeze before he slips out of the room and back to work.

At around five in the morning Eddie’s uncle shows up, grateful when Steve shows him back to the room with the still sleeping duo. The man seems nice, even tears up a bit when he sees Ronnie for the first time. Steve lets him be, knowing that he's probably tired after a night of working while stressing over his nephew.

He goes back once his shift ends around seven to find both men out cold, and he resists the instinct that urges him to go over and scent Eddie one last time, to leave a reminder of himself on Eddie's skin. Somehow he manages to pull himself away, and with one last look at the sleeping man and his little family, Steve leaves for the day.

He's off that evening, and he spends it thinking about Eddie. Every part of Steve’s inner alpha urges him to find the Omega, to show Eddie that Steve would be so good for him. He wants to bring the man back to his den, wants to bathe him and cook for him, wants to take care of Eddie so all he has to worry about is his pup and his recovery.

It’s a lot to feel for someone he met less than a day ago, someone he barely knows anything about. There’s just something about Eddie that makes Steve want more, more of his attention, his affection. Now that he knows what it’s like to hold Eddie, to sit in the heady mix of their mingling scents, he wants to do it over and over - every day, if he can.

When Steve goes in for his next shift Eddie is gone, and he does his best to tamp down the disappointment he feels. Patient, Steve, Eddie was a patient.

“He was discharged earlier today,” Claudia tells him at some point, and Steve has no idea how she’s able to read him as well as she does. “You know, if you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t wondering anything,” Steve replies while pretending to be busy with work. It’s bullshit, and he’ll probably have to redo it all later because he can’t concentrate, but it’s some kind of a distraction. The woman just hums in disbelief.

“Well, I told him that you usually work nights, two days on, one day off. Just in case.” She’s so casual about it, like just the thought of Eddie stopping by to see him doesn’t set Steve’s heart racing. He tries to keep busy, tries to distract himself because he knows Eddie probably won’t be back tonight - not when he was just discharged - but it doesn’t stop him from hoping.

Steve spends the next week of shifts waiting for a familiar face, and each morning he leaves a bit more disappointed. He tells himself over and over that Eddie is recovering, that he really shouldn’t be out and about so early after having his pup. He reminds himself again that Eddie was just a patient, that Steve was just doing his job and it wasn’t supposed to mean anything.

It’s a slow Tuesday night, and Steve is working at the nurse’s station when the smell of warm coffee hits him, too sweet and chocolatey for anything you could get in the hospital. He looks up just as Eddie leans against the counter, and- wow, the man is gorgeous when he isn’t crying from distress. His hair is down, a cascade of dark brown curls that Steve wants to sink his hands into, and he’s got a bit of color back in his cheeks, making him look much healthier than he had before.

Steve breathes a soft “Eddie,” and the man bites into his lip, clearly a bit shy as he smiles. “Hi, Steve. I, uh- Claudia told me when you’d be working and I just wanted to stop by and thank you for taking care of me when I was here. I was in a bad place without Wayne there, and you really helped me out. So, thank you.”

Thank him. Right, Eddie’s here to thank Steve for being good at his job, not for- any other reasons. Steve smiles and shrugs. “Yeah, of course. I mean, it seemed like you needed it, so.”

“I definitely did,” Eddie confirms, and Steve’s eyes flick down to where the Omega is fidgeting with his rings, chunky silver things that only look bigger on Eddie’s slender hands. “You know, Claudia also told me that you guys have a policy against dating patients, and since I’ve been discharged for over a week, I was wondering if you wanted to go out?”

Eddie wants to go out.

With him.

Steve is thankful for the required scent patches because he knows the area would be flooded with the smell of happy alpha otherwise. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before Eddie is continuing, “I know your shift ends pretty early in the morning, so I was thinking we could grab breakfast tomorrow? Benny's is usually open at the crack of dawn and their food is pretty good, so.”

He finishes with a little shrug and Steve is so endeared to him already. “I'd love that, Eddie,” he replies, unable to stop the smile spreading across his face. “I get off at seven, so I can meet you there? Say 7:30?”

Eddie beams and Steve's stomach flips at the sight. He's barely able to bite back the beginning of a purr as Eddie says “That sounds great. I'll probably have to bring Ronnie, if that's okay?”

“I think I’d be more upset if you didn’t. I never got to hold her while you were here, you know.”

“Then I’ll definitely bring her.” Eddie taps on the counter as he takes a step back, and Steve knows they probably look like a couple of idiots with how they’re smiling at each other. He can't help it, even though he’s sure to get the teasing of his life later from the other nurses. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning?”

Steve nods and smiles wider. “See you then, Eddie.”

(The teasing he gets is all worth it the next morning, when Steve sees the way Eddie looks at him as he holds Ronnie for the first time. It's even more worth it a few months later when he and Eddie exchange bites, and Steve is finally able to move his mate and pup into his home.)

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #stranger things #omegaverse #alpha steve harrington #omega eddie munson #joey writes

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angelsnkisses · 8 months

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nsfw headcanons - tyler <3

💟 nsfw - mdni 💟

A/N: i haven't actually finished the show, but it's good so far :). definitely a little.. questionable at times, but all good shows are, right? 😭 also idk why my replies are off but it's driving me insane

warnings: softdom!tyler, sub!fem!reader, breeding kink, dubcon, overstimulation, mentions of pregnancy

• no cause this show is WILD, but, disregarding that... can we talk about how tyler definitely has a huge breeding kink? there's no doubt about it.

• hear me out, he fucks you good, like gripping the sheets and seeing stars type of good. so good, in fact, that you're too dumbed out to use your critical thinking skills to make rational decisions in the moment. and as fucked as it is, he uses it to his advantage.

• he'll turn on that loving, gentle voice of his and start rubbing your clit to get your brain all foggy, hitting that divine spot inside you over and over again and turning your brain into susceptible mush.

"there you go, so good for me.. you gonna let me fill you up tonight?"

• he asks so casually, and smiles knowingly when you get all flustered and start shaking your head. he'll lean down and coo quiet pleads and praises at you, his silky voice working hard to convince you to do as he pleases.

"no? it'll feel so good, you wanna feel good?"

"come on, do it for me.. it would make me so happy."

• he knows it's wrong, but the satisfaction that washes over him when you finally whimper out a quiet 'yes' is unreal.

• aside from his tendency to manipulate your frangible little mind, he has other.. interests, if you will. one of those particular interests is overstimulating you until you can't even breathe properly.

• he'll pound you relentlessly, coaxing you through orgasm after orgasm until you're sobbing under him. best believe he has a touch of dacryphilia, because he fucks you even harder when he sees tears stream down your cheeks.

"shhh, just a few more for me. aw, don't cry, baby.. i know, it's okay."

"you don't wanna cum? you were begging for it just a little while ago.."

• after maybe 5 or 6 orgasms, he'll finally stop. not because he needs to, but because you do. he doesn't wanna completely destroy you (though part of him is intrigued to see just how much you can really take).

"you still in there? aw, you poor thing. fucked you dumb, didn't i?"

• he'll pull out slowly, taking his time to watch all his cum spill out of your spent, puffy cunt. you jerk and whine when he pushes it back in with his fingers, shushing you soothingly.

• he'll eventually leave your tortured sex alone, instead focusing on making you feel better. he'll clean you up, or have you lay on his chest so he can rub your back. he'll mumble an occasional praise, his mood elevated at the idea of you finally getting pregnant.

A/N: i don't think i've really posted anything like this, i'm nervous 😭. regardless, i hope you enjoyed! sorry it's short :3.

#rory culkin #rory culkin smut #culkin cult #tyler the expecting #the expecting #angelsnkisses #mdni

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mypoisonedvine · 8 months

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If u feel like it, maybe some more Raymond daddy kink? (๑¯ิε ¯ิ๑)

ALWAYS feel like raymond daddy kink. it's not just my kink it's a state of existence.

warnings: rough smut (18+ only ya weirdos), d/s dynamics, orgasm control, daddy kink, degradation, lots of spanking and hair pulling and general nastiness <3

"Daddy, that hurts," you whined, arching your back deeper as he gave you another spank that made your body jolt.

"Good," he grunted, "it's supposed to."

You buried your face in the pillows, remembering when he'd told you not to be too loud-- but you couldn't help it, he was fucking you so hard and mean... just the way you liked it. If he didn't want to be teased like he constantly claimed, he shouldn't always reward you with these nasty, rough 'punishments'!

"I shouldn't even let you come," he reminded you with a growl, running his hand up your curved back as he railed you aggressively from behind. "I should just use you like the filthy little slut you are--"

You moaned pathetically into the pillows, turned on even by just the idea of him being so cruel.

" -- and make you wait here, full of my come, until you've actually earned a reward," he finished. "What do you think of that, princess?"

"I'm yours, daddy," you whimpered as you looked back at him over your shoulder, batting your eyelashes, "you can do whatever you want with me, and I'll take it."

He bared his teeth as he growled at you, holding your hips tighter so you wouldn't rock forward too much as he picked up his pace. "Trying so hard to be good," he noticed with a smirk, "but it's too little too late, baby. I know you're just a little tease, trying to make daddy angry, aren't you?"

"I-I only wanted your attention!" you offered instead, yelping as he spanked you again-- right on the same sore spot-- and both of you moaned.

"You wanted attention alright," he chuckled, "you wanted some rough, dirty attention, I know, baby-- you like when daddy treats you like a whore?"

"Yes!" you shouted proudly, nearly sobbing as he grabbed you by the hair and fucked you faster than ever. "Yes, daddy, fuck!"

"Don't fucking come until I say," he warned you again through his teeth. "Fuck, don't you dare fucking come, princess-- not until daddy says you can."

"Yes, daddy," you panted, trying to hold it together while he used you so roughly.

"Tell me what you are," he grunted his instruction.

"Daddy's whore," you whined, "I'm daddy's whore."

"Louder."

"I'm your whore, daddy!"

"F-fuck," he choked out, voice getting a little higher and weaker suddenly. "Come, princess-- come right fucking now."

Your legs shook-- they weren't even holding you up anymore, only his hands on your hips were doing that. You sobbed out his name, melting into the sheets, tears streaming down your face.

"Good girl, fuck, soak daddy's cock," he praised, following you over the edge a moment later with a deep moan.

Finally slowing to a stop, he collapsed onto the bed and pulling you down with him, both of you panting and sweating and blinking the haze from your eyes. "I-I'm sorry for teasing, daddy," you whispered, and he laughed a little as he brought his hand to your thigh, petting it before giving it a reassuring pat.

"It's okay, baby," he sighed, "just don't do it when you have to walk the next day and we'll be fine."

#raymond leon x reader #raymond leon smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut

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cozage · 1 year

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Hi, can you write a scenario where Sanji founds his S/O (who is secretly an artist) staring the Aquarium's ceiling, and when he looks, he see that they painted a ocean landscape (like the All Blue) on it? I'm not good on explaining, but i think that would be a cute idea.

A/N: ALL THESE SANJI REQUESTS ARE MAKING ME FALL IN LOVE WITH HIM YOU GUYS NEED TO STOP!!! (jk you better not stop he deserves love)

Characters: gn reader x Sanji

Cw: none :)

Total word count: 1k

A Painted Dream

Sanji hadn’t seen you in a few hours, and he began to grow worried. Once he finished cooking for Luffy and Usopp, his mission would be to find you.

The more he thought about it, the more concerned he became. You had been scarce most of the week, actually. He could really only remember seeing you for meals and for bedtime, which you came late to most nights.

“Luffy.” He handed over a plate of sandwiches for the captain. “Have you seen Y/N recently?”

Luffy hummed, thinking about the question while he ate. “I saw them at breakfast this morning,” he said with a mouth full of food.

“I saw them down in the workshop a few days ago,” Usopp offered.

Of course these idiots wouldn’t be any help. He lit a cigarette and started cleaning up, trying to think about your conversations over the past few days. You almost always showed up to meals late, and you always looked a little disheveled when you arrived. Whenever he went to serve you snacks you weren’t there, and he always got distracted by another crew member before he had time to find you. He hadn’t noticed it at the moment, but now that he was reflecting on it, your behavior had been kind of secretive lately.

He trusted you, of course, but he still felt uneasy. Moreso, he felt guilty that he hadn’t noticed it sooner and asked you about your day to know what you were doing in the first place.

He wandered the ship, trying to find you. He asked all his crew mates, but the only helpful info he got was from Franky, who said you borrowed a small scaffold a few days ago and hadn’t returned it yet, and you borrowed a ladder this morning.

There weren’t many places you could use a ladder inside the ship, so he checked the library first. He found Robin there, but not you.

“Try the aquarium,” Robin offered, turning the page of the book she was reading.

He wandered down to the aquarium and opened the door to find you standing before him. Your hair was pushed back in a bandana, and a variety of colored paint was smeared across your face and your arms. You were holding a palette in your hand and a paintbrush between your teeth while you stared upwards, focusing on something above you.

His eyes trailed up to see what you were staring at, and he let out a small gasp of shock. Fish from the North Blue to his right, the South Blue to his Left, the East Blue on the far side, and the West Blue above him, all swimming towards the center of the room. There, they intermingled freely, swimming amongst sea kings and other monsters you all had seen on your travels. He could feel tears welling up and he furiously blinked to clear them. He didn’t want to cloud his vision of such perfect artistry.

A sound at the door alerted you to a presence, and your eyes flicked over to see someone in the doorway. Tall, blonde, dressed to the nines. Sanji.

“No!” you cried, running over to him. “No! No! No!”

You reach him and throw your hands over his eyes, which were glued to the ceiling. “You can’t see it yet! It’s not done!”

He stood in front of you, still as a statue. Your hands were still over his eyes, and you could feel wetness beneath your fingers.

“Sanji?”

You opened your hands slightly so you could see his face, but kept them cupped so he couldn’t see the ceiling. He had tears streaming down his face as he looked at you.

“You made that painting?”

You nod sheepishly. “I was hoping to finish it before you saw it, though.”

He looked at you, surprised. “It’s not done yet? It’s-”

“Just adding the finishing details now. Making it perfect.”

“Can I sit here and watch you finish it?”

Your face made a pout. “You have to promise not to look until I say so.”

He laughed and took a seat in front of the fish tank. “I’ll keep my eyes on you.”

It was hard, but he did it. He desperately wanted to glance up at the painting, to be lost in the intricacies and name every fish he saw. But he waited until you gave him permission, and he kept his eyes on you the whole time. He watched as you squinted to see, huffed in frustration, and smiled in success.

After an hour or two, you nodded in satisfaction, and you turned to him. “Okay, you can look now.”

He strode over to you and wrapped you in his arms, and then the two of you looked up at the All Blue you had created.

“Just when I think you can’t surprise me, you go and do something like this.” He pulled his gaze away from the painting and smothered you with kisses, causing you to cry out in a fit of giggles.

“You really like it?” you ask, peering up at him.

“I love it. I love you.”

The two of you stood there, looking up at his dream until your necks were sore, and then you laid on the ground and kept looking up. You listened to him name each of the fish he saw, delightedly pointing them out like a child pointing out shapes of clouds on a sunny day, and thought about how you couldn’t wait for him to finally find the actual one.

#one piece #one piece scenario #one piece imagine #one piece x reader #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #sanji x y/n #sanji x reader #sanji x you #cozage #✧˚sanji✧˚

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granolawriting · 8 months

Text

A change in fate ‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾

pairing: no breakout!Joel x fem reader

Summary: Your toxic ex kicks you out of your place without another word. Only hiring a mover to get your stuff somewhere else. And when Joel finds you in a state of disarray, and stays indifferent, you butt heads until it comes to a head when your paths cross again after that night. That time, much more complicated.

Content warning: age gap, you're 21 and Joel is mid 30s to early 40s. Enemies to lovers.

word count: 4k

A/N: this is the first of a two-part series inspired by an old movie I grew up with. If you can recognize it, I'll like, give you a really big treat. no nsfw this chapter, but the next one will. And as always, let me know if you like my work or if you have any suggestions for anything else I could write :)

Part 2 out now!!: to make you forget

“NO. No. No no no no no no no NO!!!”

Your fist hits solid wood once more. Every slam that pounds upon its impenetrable front leaves a mark on your hand in the shape of bruises and soreness-- you try the door once more. It's locked, as it had been the last ten times you attempted to open it. Desperation laced in the fruitless fervor that played its sound of metal clanking on metal as the knob refused to turn.

The thump on the ground follows a fall of your knees. Defeated, hopeless, in a dress that isn't even yours. Tears stream from your face in such passion you can't even feel them anymore as more of you is wet than it is dry. You imagine you look a mess, hair disheveled as you held it as you screamed at him-- makeup once beautiful and elegant streams down and across your face in the motion your hands chose to wipe away your tears.

A screeching of tires followed by the shutting of a door is what knocks you out of this pathetic display. A man walks over to you and begins to pick up the boxes right beside you, carrying them to the back of his truck that has the title “MOVERS” painted on its side. You clamor to your feet, disorientation doesn't help the heels strapped to your feet as you chase after him;

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going with those? Who the hell are you?”

Rancor coats your tongue as your anger spits out onto him, He stands in the middle of an empty parking lot with only the light emanating from houses and lamps decorating the street are you able to take him in.

He was tall, perhaps 6ft, an older man. Salt and pepper hair covered just above his forehead and a stern face was complimented by equally gruff facial hair of similar color, and a frown that seemed natural for him. He wore an old jacket-- probably made in the same year you were born with plaid linings on its inside to support a Carhartt branded outside. All the clothes upon his body seemed worn, from the stained jeans and a belt fitted so many times it might as well have been made for the exact curve of his body, to the heavy worker's boots with every scratch telling a story beyond your years. He looks at you. Up and down his eyes register curiously the woman that stood before him. He scoffs, and with a low Texan drawl he replies in kind;

“Well princess, looks here like someone was kind enough to get yourself a mover for all them boxes outside the house. ‘Supose you know where i'm to drop em off?”

“They can stay right here.”

It comes out of you not in a literal sense, but you guess a plea of desperation. You can't imagine that this is actually happening. You can't just leave. After all the years you spent with him, all the hours you poured into his care and the best he can do is call up some old guy to take your shit somewhere else?

“Now you know I can't do that. I ain't come all the way down here just for’ nothin. Now, I was hired to move, least you can let me do is my job.”

His palms outstretched to you as he finishes putting the first box in the back of his truck, looking to you with little care for what you’re properly going through, moreso just a plea to let him go home sometime before 1 in the morning.

your breath grows uneven again, you feel something build up in you again as you just refuse to accept this. Turning your back to him, you storm over to another box untouched by him and kick it, screaming and crying and truly just making a mess of yourself as you collapse once again on the curb of the sidewalk. Folding your arms across your knees, and with a head buried deep in your chest you sit there for a moment as you listen to the crunch of his boots against the loose gravel along the pavement trail back and forth past you as each box is stored into the vehicle.

“Still haven't given me an address. Or were ya’ thinkin' of just sitting here and lettin' me take yer’ things?”

Irritation follows his tone as he becomes increasingly impatient about your behavior.

“I don't have anywhere to go.”

“Surely you got someplace. Now get a move on, I'm bout damn tired of all this.”

He drags you up by your upper arms, feeling his calloused hands hold onto the smoothness of your body as he lifts you to your feet. Shocked though, you push him away from you in haste;

“I can get up by myself. Thank you very much.”

You dust yourself off for just a moment before continuing, he looks at you with impatience.

“And I need a ride.”

He stammers a bit as he begins to speak,

“A- fucking,? Damn. alright then. Just get the hell on alright? Sure you wouldn't want em’ having to pay me extra.”

He walks back to his truck as you follow, The two footsteps upon the concrete road are all that can be heard in the neighborhood as your pain slowly wells into your chest, and the outbursts cease.

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

“Now, listen here. We've been drivin' for damn near an hour now, and ain't nothing come of it. Where the hell am I takin you? Or I'm about to leave ya on the side of the damn road. I've got a kid at home.”

“Just take me to the other side of town.”

“Are you fuckin kidding me? Now, I don't know what you've got goin on and I truly, don't want to. But you're real damn selfish ya know that? Makin me drive all over town like this like I'm some goddamn taxi. This place best got some money to pay me for.”

His voice is deep, gruff, and when laced with the anger of a despondent woman who seems as if she has all the time in the world he's not keen to hold back judgment anymore. His hand grips the steering wheel firmly and doesn't look at you for a moment as he speaks to you.

You're taken aback, to say the least. After the pain you've felt, the torment you've faced the only thing to greet you is the unwanted mouth of some old man who doesn't know what he's talking about.

“I'm selfish? You don't know the night I've had. How can you call me selfish? You were hired for a reason so why don't you just do your fucking job okay? As long as you’re getting paid it shouldn't matter a damn to you.”

You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms in his passenger seat, watching him with disdain as he grips the wheel and drives relatively carelessly through the empty streets just to get you out.

After a few minutes more, and by a few you mean around 30, you find yourself in front of a home you’d never think to see again truthfully. As you take in the sight of it, a simple house facing an otherwise unimpactful street, but you held memories of all your years within the confines of these blocks. You were home, after so many years away.

“Get out.”

He says bluntly. The clock shines a bright 1:47 on its dash, signifying that you definitely didn't meet his “before 1” pleas. But damn, could he have been any nicer about it?

You watch as he hops out of the car himself, to the sound of a hard opening of the back that held all your belongings. And as you made your way ever so slowly out of his truck, trying to not fall as the step was coated in the darkness of the night that was no longer politely illuminated by street lights. As you made your way to the concrete below you, rounding his truck was he almost done putting your stuff back out, only on a different curb this time. And without a second to spare, he gets back into his truck, and leaves. Not a word said to you, not even an exchange.

What an asshole.

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

“So you’re telling me, that the man you were with for how many years, kicked you out for what?”

The voice of your childhood friend rang once more through the old walls of the house, in the kitchen where you two sat. this was her family home, one that she now inherited, and one that after many years of silence on your part, she gladly opened up to you as well.

“We were together almost 3 years. And he just, found another girl I guess. But she was in my closet, filled with her clothes. It's as if he’d moved me out overnight. He didn't have a word to say to me, it's like I never even mattered to him. But I've told you this time and time again, what more can I even do at this point?”

She repositions herself with her legs crossing over one another as she looks for a response, taking a sip of coffee before having it dawn on her.

“Today. 3 pm. Uncles holding a barbeque. You remember my uncle right? Everyone will be there. Maybe we could find you a good little rebound to bring you down to earth.”

“Are you- a rebound? Seriously? Is that all you can think of right now?”

“Listen. The only thing you can do with a broken heart is fix it. And that doesn't happen in a day. Least you can do is get something tasty to chase the pain with. Like hot old guys. You’re only 21! This is the prime time to do whatever you want.”

You think for a second. Letting this wash over you as you try and figure out the next thing to do. Do you really doll yourself up after the most traumatic evening of your life is not even 24 hours in your past, just to eye all of your friends older relatives, and family friends that you’ve been ogling at since you were 16?

I mean fuck it, what else are you going to do.

Following your friend up the stairs, she lets out an excited giggle at the prospect of having you back after so many years. There's so many things to tell, different people to see, and subsequently laugh at, but the best of all her skills with a brush have gotten much better since the last time she helped you look good. Much better, apparently for as you looked at yourself in the mirror you could barely recognize the woman looking back at you-- let alone any trace of the girl sat in a torn dress the night before screaming outside her ex’s house.

You put on a pretty yellow dress, adorned with flowers It's hemmed all properly frilled to some level, and the flow of the skirt portion barely getting over your back end does the top also treat you well; a low neck cup to shape your chest perfectly as the daintiness of your outfit, paired with little yellow heels, made you look properly irresistible.

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

“Guess whos backkk!!!”

The excited shrills of your friend beside you make everyone who'd arrived at the party thus far to crane their heads back to look, all of which subsequently smiled with shock as they looked upon you. None of them had seen you since you were 17, about 18 years old. That's when you left, the moment you could. Looking back you missed all of this so much, the community, the story told in every face that looked upon you. But all is lost now and the most you can do is make the best out of the time you have right now-- and as it stands you’re at the center of it all.

They approach you by the droves, asking every question they can that have undoubtedly had rumored answers to in your absence; detailing from where you've been, what you’re doing, where you go to school, where you work, and most hurtful-- how your ex was doing. You briefly told them all that you and him had since parted, and that you were just getting back on track, spending some time at your friend's house in the meantime. They all looked upon you in sympathy, but as more people entered the party the more they dispersed to greet other guests.

“Oh my god, is that who I think it is?”

A low, familiar tone enters the backyard where you stand, and turning around to face you is your friend's father. Who, for most of your life was like a father to you as well. He opens his arms and you follow suit, embracing him in what feels like a much-needed hug, before setting you down again to continue talking to you.

“Oh, honey if, if I'd known you were coming I'd have brought you something. How long has it been since I last saw you? God, you seem so grown up now. It's like I barely even know you.”

His head moves to look behind him for a second, and soon he ushers someone forward to join in the conversation.

“Ah, there's something I'd love for you to meet. This is a good friend of mine, Joel. I haven't had him around any of these much, he just moved back here from Texas a couple weeks back. But he's someone I've known my whole life. Kinda like you and my daughter in a way!”

Though as the man who emerged behind him reared his head, you couldn't believe your eyes. It was him, of course, it was him. That asshole that drove you home like you were the greatest burden he's ever had to carry.

“Yer fuckin kidding me.”

He looks at you in shock. Nothing more. However, you see that to his side is a young girl, no older than 12 who seems to be in awe over you. Her hair was tucked into each side of her face to illuminate it in a crown of curls that came to her shoulder and stretched all the way to her ears in volume. She wore a small shark tooth necklace, and some form of singer on her shirt that you didn't recognize.

He-, Joel, looks down at her;

“Sarah how bout you go say hi to your friends for me. I'm gonna be busy a moment”

She runs off, and your friend's dad begins to speak again.

“Do you, know each other from somewhere? I can't imagine you do.”

“She's that insane little girl I told you ‘bout. The one kickin n’ screaming all over the place. Reason why Sarah hadta’ stay the night at your place.”

“The insane little girl?”

You chime in.

“There's no way- Joel, you’ve probably got the wrong girl”

“No, he has the right one.”

You stare directly at him, sending daggers into each of the brown eyes that look back at you.

“He kicked me out of his car at almost 2 in the morning without a single word. Isn't that right?”

Though no matter how piercing your gaze it fails to impact him as it should, for with equal level tone he snipes back;

“Yep, after makin me drive all the way cross’ town just cause she wanted to. Knowin I got someone waitin’ for me. Clearly, something she don't understand all too much anymore.”

That was unnecessary.

Something brews inside of you as you glance upon his finger void of a ring, even a tan that would indicate its recent removal. Though as the only sane-minded person seemingly left to observe watches your eyes as you make such a connection, he swiftly puts an end to it.

“Now, Joel. you know how young girls are they-”

“I'm not that young.”

“Alright well, they. Are just passionate, that's all. She was with him for how many was it now? Three years? Left the moment she turned of age. Clearly she just doesn't know how a mans supposed to be. This is all she really knows.”

This is all she really knows.

That's all that rang through your head as the conversation died and Joel exchanged brief apology. That in a way, he was all you really knew. And now you’re back home, and you don't know what to do with yourself, really. You don't know what you like, or what you don't like. It was all just, him. For so long. You vowed to yourself that day that, no matter what went on you would say yes to anything. To embrace kind of, anything that came your way as some divine fate, or at the very least a fun experience.

As the night droned on, and you fielded the barrage of squeals, hugs from people you don't remember, and a bit more liquor you could've accounted for, the night came to a slow end. Feeling eyes on you constantly was one thing, but feeling the eyes on the man with who’d you'd had a comfortable reunion was even worse in a way. Although, as you looked upon him in your own moments you saw in him something unveiled after the veil of hatred and sorrow fell off of you. Something, interesting about him. Attractive. Obviously nothing you were going to personally indulge in, but an interesting assertion nonetheless. He stood in the light of the evening, fairy lights covering the backyard as it illuminated his now more time-appropriate outfit; one of marginally better jeans and a plaid shirt, rolled to his elbows to reveal what were impressive forearms, and with the proper fit of his shirt, showed an impressive physique for a single dad.

… … …

Thats stupid. Anyways, the night drew to a close and as you saw your friend too wrapped up in the conversation of someone relatively older than her, you decided to take the few blocks walk home, especially since you didn't have a car anymore either. Though as you exit the front door to travel down the sidewalk you hear a familiar accent call out to you after only a few feet have been made distance between you and the doorframe;

“Ya’ walking home this late at night?”

“Yeah, I am. Not like I've got a car do I?”

You turn your body to look at him, but only after you've finished your sentence, using the body language of someone unequipped for any more stupid banter to cue him into leaving you alone.

“How’s about I drive you home. Least I can do after what I’d said today. It wasent quite my place.”

His voice has an unfamiliar tune of sympathy as he lets out that apology of sorts, so you engage. Though, begrudgingly.

“Don’t you have a daughter to take care of? That seemed what got you so mad before.”

He sighs a little, you notice you've hit a bit of a nerve.

“Well, she’ll be stayin' at a friend's place for a few days, really hit it off. Got nothin but time on my hands now.”

“Well in that case I'm not gonna say no to a free ride. Obviously.”

You smile a bit, a first with him. Other than ones of sarcasm, every interaction you've had with him thus far hasn't been all that pleasant. And he smiles back. And, as the light of the moon shines down upon his weathered face, the smirk on his makes your smile grow even more.

Hopping into his car once more, you take the road to your place with a little more enjoyment than how it transpired the night before. This time, the sound of his music accompanied by a hum through his car is what played to fill the silence of the atmosphere. Something old, country, of course. You’d never heard it, and it sounded well beyond even his years. But despite that, there was a comforting air that was shared in the car-- cool air blowing in from the windows rolled down, watching as his arm held on to the side of the car door from the open window, tapping its side in unison to the beat.

“This here is it right?”

Pulling up to your shared home you felt almost a little reluctant to respond with a yes. Though when you do, he steps out of the car as you do as well. You watch as he awaits your circle to the front where he stood, as a means to walk with you to the front of your door. Looking at him curiously as you reach the entrance, he gives response to your motions, though you watch as his fingers fiddle with one another ever so slightly as he poses such a response;

“It ain’t right leaving a lady to walk all by herself after dropping her off. And, I just wanted to say again that it ain't my place makin assumptions about you like that. Wanted to know if I could make it up to ya’. Kinda seems like lifes dealt you a bad hand right now, thought to offer you a drink over it.”

A drink?

You thought about that for a second. The man that kicked you out of his car, literally less than 24 hours ago, is now offering to take you out for a drink. Well, it was as a means for apology. So that's something. Nothing more to it, it's a Southern thing. They drink to anything. Especially sorrow.

“I think I’ll have to take you up on that. You’ll know where I’ll be.”

You reply with a smile that grows just large enough to show your teeth. He gazed at you for a bit longer, as his eyes grew brighter at the prospect of an invitation accepted. He was a lot less harsh than meets the eye, it seemed. But you still weren't properly convinced. And, there was still much a mystery about him that although intimidated you, enticed you even more. You cock your hip to the side of the doorframe, leaning up against it as he spoke to you as a means to accentuate your figure just a bit as he looked at you. Just to see what would happen.

“Oh, alright then. 7 alright with you? I’ll come pick you up course’.”

“Seven’s more than alright with me. I'll see you then, Joel.”

As you bid farewell to him, you watched as his eyes tracked your movements as you did so. The way your hips have shifted place, the tone at which your voice shifted ever so slightly. He took in your gaze, a small cat eye that sharpened your eyes paired with the sly smile of a woman your age was enough to catch his stare for a moments longer than it should've. You relished in that.

He leaves you off with a nod and a smile, though you take the time that he walks back to his truck as a means to take in all that he was without interruption. He was handsome, to say the least. There was something to be said about a man with southern hospitality and an ass made from manual labor that reached deeper into a realm of attraction that was often untapped by the men of your age range. And you enjoyed greatly that you’d discovered such a thing.

Tomorrow, 7pm, Joel.

#joel #joel miller smut #joel tlou #joel x reader #joel smut #joel fanfic #joel miller #joel miller x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #joel tlou x reader

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f10werfae · 1 year

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Smokin’ Hot Husband

pairing: Dad!Husband!Ransom Drysdale x Pregnant!Wife!Reader

summary: Y/n catches her eldest son smoking, and with her being very emotional, it’s up to Ransom to save the day (Protective Ransom‼️) (requested by anon)

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

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“How ya feelin today treasure?” Ransom cooed hugging onto his wife from behind, watching as she skilfully gathered all her ingredients for her famous stir fry, one that she was desperately craving. His large hands travelled down to her 6 month bump, his hands smoothing over it gently as she leant back into his chest.

“I’m feeling fine babe, jus a bit hungry but that’s all baby boo’s fault” Y/n laughed, using their newfound nickname for their next baby, their third one and hopefully a girl. Their eldest was Mark who was 15, then there was Reign who was 8, brothers who definitely got their father’s wit and sly personality whilst also having the loving nature of their mother. The perfect combo to Y/n and Ransom Drysdale

“Where are the other two little shits?” Ransom joked kissing her neck softly, swaying both of their bodies side to side as she finished up her cooking, a proud wide smile on her face. “Ransom! If you must know Reign is upstairs writing for his new fantasy book, and Mark I think is out the backyard? Here i’ll get Mark while you get Reign okay?” Y/n beamed turning around and kissing Ransom fully on the lips, a loud smack echoing through the kitchen, her pregnancy glow making her absolutely radiant in Ransom’s eyes. God how lucky was he?

“Yes ma’am” He smirked watching her walk away, not without his hand slapping harshly onto her ass, even after all these years he still found her irresistible. After getting married quite young, even when he was cut from his grandfather’s inheritance, he built a name for himself with Y/n by his side. His rock.

Ransom walked back down the stairs with assurance that Reign would be down in ten minutes, his brows furrowing when he suddenly saw his wife rush in through the backdoor, her face flushed with tears streaming down them uncontrollably. “Baby? Treasure what’s wrong? Tell me now” Ransom rushed out skipping the last few steps, storming to his wife’s side, she was absolutely inconsolable. Partly due to the hormones but clearly something bad had happened,

“I-it’s Mark, Ran” She hiccuped the palm of her hand on her forehead, the other holding onto her waist to ease the back pain. “What’s happened with Mark? Breathe with me baby, follow me” Within seconds Y/n had started to follow the pattern of her husband’s breaths, letting her calm down just that tiny bit more.

“Ran, he’s smoking! Actual cigarettes too, doesn’t he know how dangerous they are? Did I do something wrong? That’s my baby boy” Y/n cried out, her chin wobbling as sobs threatened every time she spoke. Remembering how just seconds prior, she walked out to see her first born puffing away on a cigarette, one thing she had always asked them not to do.

“shh treasure, you go upstairs and i’ll call you down for dinner, i’ll talk to Mark” Ransom said through gritted teeth, if there was one thing he hated, it was seeing his woman cry. The fact that it was his own son? Oh that just made it so much worse.

After making sure she got upstairs alright, Ransom stormed out to the back porch, seeing his 15 year old sat on the swinging chair looking guilty and glum; clearly anticipating his father’s arrival. Now Ransom wasn’t a scary parent, but he was protective and strict, step out of line and he’d be sure to put you back.

“C’mere Markie, now please” Ransom grumbled rubbing his creased forehead with his fingers, watching his son slowly shuffle towards him with his head down. “Where the fahk did you get these son? You know what these can do to you right? I can’t believe you’d do this, you’re barely 16!” He said raising his voice by a little, but not shouting, that’s not how he did things.

“T-they’re my friends Dad, I just thought it’d look cool-“

“Cool if what? You end up sick cause of your lungs and your poor mother and I have to come save you? I thought we told you the consequences of smoking, you know what it done to your mother’s family. I’m so disappointed, you’ve upset your ma and you know she gets emotional now that she’s nearly in her last term”

“I know, i’m sorry, didn’t mean to upset Ma. I just wanted to fit in a bit more”

“Not good enough son, not good enough at all. What are you sorry for?” Ransom asked bending down to his height, his lips held tightly into a line. “I’m sorry for disrespecting both you and Ma, and for putting myself in danger”

“and?”

“I promise not to do it again” Mark said holding his hands behind his back, his father’s old cream sweater hugging his body like a blanket. “Like hell you won’t, now go on and apologise to your mother” Ransom grunted pulling the red faced boy into his arms, kissing him gently on the head before pushing him inside. Not without throwing the cigarettes into their outside campfire.

Slowly following behind Mark, Ransom smiled as he saw Y/n pull their first born into her arms, kissing his face repeatedly as she continuously told him off softly “Don’t scare me like that again, ya hear me?” “Please don’t ruin your body like that baby, took me 9 whole months to make it”

“I’m sorry ma, I really am, please forgive me” Mark said now tearing up, fiddling with the bottom of his mom’s sweater, feeling her fingers wipe away his tears. “You’re my baby, I could never be that angry at you, you just scared me honey” Y/n whispered kissing him on the forehead one last time, then whispering that he and his brother could both go down for dinner first.

Ruffling his brown hair as he walked past, Ransom walked into their shared bedroom, his wife’s arms instantly reaching up for him cutely. “You handled that so well hubs, definitely better than I did” She laughed with tears in her eyes, standing up to fully hug him, his chin resting atop her head as his arms engulfed her tightly. Her strong coconut scent filling his nostrils as she lifted her head to look up at him, placing a kiss onto his chin affectionately.

“Well, we raised them well, s’jus our job to make sure they learn from their mistakes. I’m just glad they got your emotional vulnerability, and I hope our little butterfly does too” Ransom spoke softly, his fingers brushing against her growing stomach, feeling the tiny butterfly-like flutters hitting against his hand. His hopefully, baby girl, kicking against his hand.

“Oh she’ll be just like her daddy, I can feel it” Y/n smirked kissing his lips gently, her lips basically ghosting over his to tease him, giggling when she felt his hand push her into the kiss. Their kiss only being interrupted when they heard their two boys call for them downstairs, their little Drysdale troublemakers.

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @evanstanwhore @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @chrisevansdaughter @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @tojisbabymomma @bxdbxtxh15 @madebylilly @tinyelfperson @fdl305 @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @chrisevansangel @mysticfalls01 @mdpplgtz03 @mirikusashes @marvelgurl @cevansgurl @xoxokiaraaxoxo @caps-shield1918 @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @meetmeatyourworst @roofwitty779 @feltonswifesworld87 @ravenhood2792 @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @alexxavicry @bookfrog242 @alina02 @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @bval-1 @aerangi @bluebellsn @lastwandastan @angelmather1 @diyabhanushali1 @stuckysgirl27 @wintasssoldier @daddymack01 @hatsparkle @spencerreidat4am @keiva1000 @acornacre @minaxcarter @thebaileybugle

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #romance #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagine #chris evans one shot #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x female reader #ransom drysdale x pregnant!reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale x reader #dad!ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x wife!reader

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hungermakesmonsters · 7 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done , Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : this one is pretty PG

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing in this chapter is warning worthy, but the story in general is going to turn pretty smutty from chapter 3 onwards and there will be strong language throughout. I’m not going to list all the different ways things get smutty unless I think it’s something that could be considered triggering. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.5k

A/N : this started life as an original piece that I couldn’t finish, so I decided to make a few little changes and turn it into a fanfic. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a tumblr, so sorry if I fuck this up. The story as a whole is going to veer recklessly between cute fluff and some much darker things with themes of obsession, will-they-won’t-they, and running from past trauma. Both Billy and reader are messy AF.

CHAPTER ONE

You checked your phone for what had to be the hundredth time. A measly two minutes had passed but the August heat made it feel longer. You found yourself thinking about how you were going to kill your roommate for making you chauffeur her around in the height of summer, trying to ignore the way the sticky New York heat made your tank top cling to your body beneath your unzipped hoodie.

You’d given up on waiting in the car after the first ten minutes - the AC in the old VW was busted, making it even less comfortable than sitting on the hood of the car under the glaring sun. Still, the parking lot was nicer than some of the places you’d found yourself waiting for your roommate over the years. That was the thing with Tammy; everyone around her lived on her schedule, did what she wanted to do. And you were no exception.

Actually, this whole thing was your idea. A friend, albeit in a very loose sense of the word, had told you that ANVIL were hiring office staff, and you’d passed the message along to Tammy who’d - well, she’d turned her nose up at it at first, she’d even laughed at you. But Tammy needed a job and ANVIL had a reputation for paying well.

So, you agreed to drive her to the interview and even agreed to wait.

Every now and then someone would appear - honestly, it looked like a steady stream of models leaving the building, the sorts that Tammy fit well with - but, for the most part, it was just you, mindlessly scrolling Instagram, trying not to think.

Until you saw him.

He came out the door and just stopped. It looked like he was breathing a sigh of relief at being out of there, and you couldn’t help but smirk a little at that. Poor guy.

Despite the weather he was dressed in a suit, dark hair slicked back, tall and slender. You suddenly felt out of place, like you shouldn’t be there, like you shouldn’t keep watching him, but the longer it went without him noticing you, the harder it was to try and tear away your eyes. He answered his phone as you watched, even without being able to hear a word, you knew he wasn’t happy. When he turned you got your first glimpse of his face and -

Fuck.

Your eyes dropped back to your phone, knowing that he’d seen you watching him. Fingers swiped across the screen, jumping from Instagram to emails to Facebook, looking for anything to reply to. Your eyes stayed fixed on the phone even as you heard the shuffle of boots on gravel moving towards you, trying to act like you hadn’t been staring at him even as his shadow fell over you.

“Do you make a habit of hanging out in parking lots or are you here to interview?” His voice didn’t sound quite the way you’d imagined - though you weren’t really sure why you’d been imagining his voice to begin with. There was an edge to it, something that sent a shiver up your spine.

“I’m waiting for someone,” you answered, squinting as you looked up and the light seemed to halo around him.

“Friend?” he asked.

“Roommate,” you answered awkwardly before shaking your head, “but, yeah, she’s my friend too.”

You weren’t expecting him to laugh at that, for him to smile the sort of smile that probably had women all across the five boroughs ready to drop their panties. (And that was another thought you weren’t sure you should be having.)

He didn’t move, for a few moments he just looked at you as if he was taking measure, and all you could think about was how there was a bead of sweat rolling down your back. You probably looked completely gross while he was standing there in what looked like a professionally tailored suit that probably cost more than you could make in a year, with not a hair out of place despite the oppressive heat.

“Does she make you wait around for her a lot?” He asked as if it was the strangest thing he’d ever heard, like he’d never allow anyone to put him in your position.

“She doesn’t drive,” you shrug, “anyway, this is nicer than most of the places she drags me to.”

“Yeah?” he prompted with little more than a raise of his eyebrow.

“Tammy’s an actress - at least, she wants to be. So I end up waiting around while she auditions.”

The look he gave you was surprisingly sympathetic. “Actresses can be hard work.” You didn’t think to ask how he knew that.

“Yeah, I’m just glad she gets to keep her clothes on for this interview,” the words slipped out and you instantly grimaced but if he noticed that, he didn’t let it show. “Not like - I mean, she’s not doing porn or anything. Not that there’s anything wrong with women wanting to -”

You could see him fighting back a laugh the more flustered you got.

“I mean, it’s not the nudity that’s a problem - you should read some of the scripts, they’re just so bad.” You finally managed. “It’s like ‘oh no the serial killer caught me with his knife and now my tits are out’.”

Silence fell again and you watched him glance away, daring to hope that he was done with you. He’d walk away and forget all about you, and you’d spend the rest of the day replaying this moment in your mind, cringing at how ridiculous you are.

“I was going to grab a coffee, your friend is probably going to be another hour or so, so if you want you could always join me?”

You quickly started coming up with reasons why you couldn’t, why you shouldn’t. But, it was just coffee, it wasn’t like he was asking you to leave the country with him. And, besides, you weren’t sure you could stand the heat much longer.

“There’s a place nearby that does amazing iced coffee,” like he was reading your mind. And that sold it.

“Yeah, sure, that sounds great,” you decided, sliding off the hood of the car in a less than graceful manner.

Once you were standing you could really appreciate the height difference between the two of you; you almost had to tilt your head to look at him. You pushed the thought away, taking a moment to check that your car was locked up, following after him when he started to leave the way.

As you walked, it dawned on you that you still didn’t know his name, so you clumsily introduced yourself.

“Billy,” he responded with a smile, realising that he’d made the same mistake you had, “come on, it’s just across the street.”

You both fell into silence as you left the parking lot, but it wasn’t long before it got to be too much for you in an awkward, uncomfortable sort of way. It struck you that he didn’t look uncomfortable though, in fact you were already pretty certain that he wasn’t the kind of man to get uncomfortable easily.

“So, do you work at Anvil?” You asked him, wanting to fill the silence but also wanting to know a little bit more about him. You weren’t sure what he found so funny about the question but the smirk he shot you left you feeling like you were missing something obvious and he found your ignorance amusing. You started to fiddle with your sleeves, gaze dropping from his.

“Yeah, I work at Anvil.” And then silence fell again.

When you looked up again you were outside a little coffee shop that was so small and non-descript that you’d completely missed it when you drove by it earlier. He held the door open for you and let you slip inside before following, watching as you breathed a sigh of relief as the cool air from the AC hit. When you moved towards the counter, you realised he was only a step behind, towering over you almost possessively.

The girl behind the counter smiled at him first before bothering to spare you a glance.

“What would you like?” He asked. You quickly realised that he was intending to pay and that just unsettled you further.

“I can get mine,” you were quick to tell him. You didn’t need him paying for you and you’d never been the sort to accept drinks from men you didn’t know, not even coffee. So, you ordered your drink, your favourite iced coffee with syrup, before he ordered his, an americano with an extra shot of espresso. But before you could pay, he reached over and tapped his phone on the reader, flashing you what you could only describe as a darkly mischievous smile.

“You didn’t have to -” you started to tell him.

“I know, but I wanted to,” Billy shrugged, “besides, I owe you for keeping me company.”

The girl behind the counter shot you the sort of look that made you think that she would have been more than happy to keep Billy company herself and that she saw your presence there as an annoyance. You guess that was probably the effect he had on a lot of women.

“Here you go, Billy, just how you like it,” she smiled as put your drinks on the counter, leaning and fluttering her eyelashes at him, completely ignoring you. Billy gave her a muttered thanks and you had to bite your lip to keep from laughing as you reached for your drink.

As you turned, Billy placed a hand on your back, leading you towards a table by the window, far enough from the counter that it felt a little more private. You sat on the edge of your seat, eyes nervously wandering towards the door for a second and, when you looked back, you found him watching you. There was a confidence about him that was getting harder and harder to ignore, he was clearly a man who knew what he wanted and exactly how to get it - so, what did he want from you?

Company? Or maybe you were being used to make the barista jealous? No, that didn’t feel right, he’d barely even looked at her, anything between them was obviously one-sided. Maybe you were there to keep her at bay so he could drink his coffee in peace? Though from looking at him you knew he had to be used to women fawning over him, with those dark eyes that looked right through you and the shirt that fit so perfectly you could make out the muscles beneath as he shrugged off his jacket.

“What?”

Shit. You realised that you’d been staring at him and your cheeks started to warm. He didn’t look bothered, in fact he was still smiling at you, amused, almost as if he wanted you to look.

“Sorry,” you apologised, dropping your eyes to the table, quickly thinking of a way to move the conversation along, “so how long have you worked for Anvil?”

“Too long,” he answered and, again, there was that little laugh, that little smirk telling you that you were missing something. Billy obviously didn’t want to talk about himself though. “What about you? What do you do?”

“Bike messenger, mostly...” you shrugged awkwardly knowing how guys like him looked down on people like you. You weren’t ashamed of what you did; it paid the rent, put food on the table, you just hated having to defend it to someone like him who probably made money in his sleep. He surprised you by not reacting - there was no look of superiority, no pity, just a nod of his head.

“Mostly?”

“What?”

“You said mostly,”

“Oh, right, yeah. I do some work as a photographer. Just freelance and a couple of exhibitions,” you shrugged again, “it’s actually how I found out that Anvil were hiring.”

“Really?” It was hard not to notice how intently he was looking at you, like he was hanging on your every word. You started fiddling with your sleeve again.

“Yeah, sometimes I do work for The Bulletin if someone is out sick, and my friend Karen knew Tammy was looking for a job, so -”

“Karen? Frank’s girl?”

“Yeah,” you’d never met him but Karen had been talking about him a lot since they got together, “we were talking and I guess I let slip that we might have to move to a smaller apartment if Tammy can’t find a job…”

“High rent?”

You nodded. “Higher than either of us can really afford, but Tammy’s parents pay half and we split the rest.”

“Her parents still pay for her?”

“They’re loaded and I guess they didn’t want her having to live anywhere that might be ‘dangerous’,” you offered, but you knew how it sounded. You and Tammy were both in your thirties , it was strange that they still went out of their way to provide for her, but you didn’t fault them for wanting to look after their child, something that your own parents had never seemed inclined to do. The thought sent you down a rabbit hole and had you falling silent, wondering how he’d look at you if he knew the truth about you.

You took a drink, letting your eyes drift to the window and the street beyond. His eyes stayed firmly on you and you could almost feel him watching you. It made you tense and shift uncomfortably.

“What kind of photography are you into?”

“Mostly candids, but since I moved to New York, I’ve been really getting into urban stuff and I’ve been playing around with architecture shots.” Billy listened, looking interested in everything you had to say in a way that had you smiling again.

“And you put on exhibitions?”

“Little shows sometimes, yeah.”

“I’d love to see one sometime.” He kept smiling at you, all his focus completely on you, and you found that you didn’t entirely mind it. It was nice talking to someone who seemed to care about what you were actually saying. “Did you study photography in college or -”

“No, I never got to go to college.” It wasn’t until you’d said it that you realised how much it gave away; that college wasn’t your choice, that you’d been stopped from going.

“I never went to college either,” Billy offered, as if he sensed your sudden discomfort. You nodded, eyes dropping to your fingers, tugging at your sleeve again. “Do I make you nervous?” He asked suddenly, pulling your attention back towards him. He was still smiling, still looking at you in a way that made you feel like he was taking you apart in his mind, piece by piece.

“What? No - that’s not -” you stumbled over your words, embarrassed that he’d caught on so easily. You took a second before letting out a sigh. “It’s not you, I just don’t do this a lot.”

“Which part?”

“The whole going for coffee with a random guy I’ve never met before.”

“Is that because guys don’t ask or because you don’t normally say yes?” He asked but didn’t give you time to respond. “Don’t worry, I’m sure I already know the answer.”

An eyebrow raised, unimpressed by the assumption; the situation might have been making you nervous but you weren’t going to take shit from a stranger. “Oh yeah, and how’s that?”

“You’re too attractive for men to ignore.” Billy shrugged and your eyes rolled. Yikes, what a fucking line.

“Maybe I’ve got a boyfriend,” you retorted, “or a girlfriend.”

Billy laughed. “You know that wouldn’t stop most guys, right?”

“Would it have stopped you?” You were pretty sure you knew the answer to that.

“I dunno, do you have a boyfriend?” He asked. “Or a girlfriend?”

“Do you?”

“Have a boyfriend?”

“Or a girlfriend.”

“Would you be here having coffee with me if I did?” He asked, turning the tables so effortlessly that it made it seem like flirting was an olympic sport and he was a gold medallist.

“Would you have asked me if you did?” You answered back, trying to fight back a smirk of your own at how ridiculous this was becoming.

“Do you always answer innocent questions with more questions?” It was obvious he was enjoying whatever this was, his dark eyes practically shining with excitement as he watched you from the other side of the table.

“You call that an innocent question?” You retorted, letting out a snort of laughter.

Billy let out another laugh, holding up his hands and signalling surrender.

“Maybe you should come work for Anvil, I bet you’re a pro at interrogations.” And that really made you laugh, and the sight of it had his gaze fixing more intently on you and his smile widening.

“I don’t think I have the necessary qualifications to work somewhere like that,” you shrug, “besides, I like my job.”

“Really?” Usually his question would have pissed you off, but there was something in the way he asked that made it seem like he was genuinely curious to hear your reasons rather than it being some kind of judgement.

“Yeah, I get to see the whole city, there’s no office politics to deal with, and I get to listen to music all day,” you found yourself shrugging again, and his eyes were still fixed on you, like he was fascinated. So, it felt like your turn to ask; “what?”

“Nothing,” he sat back and lifted his mug, taking a long drink, “I think it’s great that you like your job, there’s a lot to be said for enjoying your work.”

“Do you? Enjoy what you do, I mean. With Anvil?” Whatever that was.

“Some days more than others,” he smiled at you.

“And today?” You asked stupidly, before considering the implications and how it might sound.

“Today’s definitely getting better.”

Your eyes dropped to your drink again, teeth running over your bottom lip. He wasn’t talking about you, he couldn’t be talking about you, but some part of you wished he was. But you wouldn’t have known even if he was, you’d never been good with those sorts of things, flirting and separating a little bit of fun from something more. Billy was an enigma to you in the same way that most people were, but there was something about him that made you almost want to break all of your rules, just to see what might happen.

“What do you do for Anvil?”

“These days I mostly deal with the bureaucracy,” and the look on his face told you just what he thought of that.

“So you don’t - I don’t know, go on missions, all Seal Team 6, kicking down doors?”

Billy let slip a laugh that was equal parts amused and offended.

“Seal Team 6?”

“What?” You laughed, awkwardly.

“You know a lot of Anvil are ex-Marine Corps, right? I’m an ex-Marine.”

“Is there a difference?” You knew there was though, honestly, you couldn’t remember exactly what it was, and the look on his face was priceless enough that you didn’t regret asking.

“Okay, wow, you’re really going to make me explain it to you?” You nodded in response. “Okay, it’s -“

Before he could start on whatever lecture he was about to give, your phone started to ring, loudly - loud enough to make you almost jump out of your skin. (You must have knocked the volume while you’d been frantically trying to look like you hadn’t been spying on him earlier.)

“Fuck, it’s Tammy,” you tell him before answering.

Moments later, you’d wish that you hadn’t. She was at the car waiting for her ride home and you were nowhere to be found, which was apparently so inconsiderate of you. You finished the call with a sigh and looked at Billy.

“Guess her interview didn’t go well,” you took one final drink before pushing back your chair and getting to your feet. “I’ve got to go, if I leave her standing around out there I’ll never hear the end of it, it’s been -“ you stopped as he got to his feet.

“I’ll walk you back.”

“No, that’s fine, really, you don’t have to.”

“I insist.” His tone making it clear that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“I’m sorry, she’s just -“

“You don’t have anything to apologise for.”

When you started towards the door, he was right behind you, again staying close to you. Outside the oppressive heat hit you again and it pissed you off; you’d been having a nice time and Tammy just had to ruin it. Now it was over and you’d never see him again.

Billy didn’t say anything, even as you picked up the pace. You wanted to get this all over and done with, you wanted to drive Tammy back to the apartment and - you didn’t know. All you knew was that you didn’t want to be around her, you didn't want to have to deal with her bullshit, and you didn’t want to think about the man walking a step behind you.

You didn’t see him frown at you, you didn’t dare look back because it just felt childish. You’d met him forty minutes ago, he’d probably forget you by the end of the day.

You rounded the corner, about to cross the street when you felt his fingers around your wrist. All it took was one gentle pull and you were turning back towards him, stumbling into his arms. It felt like a moment pulled from some romcom; you spilled forward into his arms, your hands against his chest. And then you looked up, finding those impossibly dark eyes staring down at you.

Billy looked at you like he was trying to decide something, fingers still wrapped around your wrist. The, less than a second later, he was kissing you, pulling your body against his. And you let him. Later you’d tell yourself that it was shock but, in that moment, you wanted him to kiss you for no other reason than he was nice; you’d had fun getting coffee with him. It took you a moment to return to your senses, to use the hands on his chest to gently push him away.

“Billy —”

“Sorry, couldn’t help myself. I’ve been thinking about doing that for the last thirty minutes.” He grinned. “Go to dinner with me.” You couldn’t tell if he meant it as a question or a command, but it definitely sounded more like the latter. Maybe he was just that used to women doing what he wanted them to do.

“I think you’re supposed to ask that before kissing someone,” was all you could think to say with a nervous laugh.

“Well, now I’ve asked…” And a second later, his lips were on yours again, tongue running against the seam of your lips, desperately wanting to deepen the kiss, and you let him. For a few sweet moments, you gave yourself over to him - to a random stranger you’d known for all of forty minutes.

Finally, you pushed him again, taking a step back, out of his arms and back to reality.

“I can’t,” is what you told him once you’d managed to find your voice again.

“Can’t or won’t?” He dared to try and take a step closer, forcing you to take another step back.

“Does it matter?”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?” Honestly not sure you even wanted an answer from him.

“So I can figure out how to change your mind.” He explained, like he thought it would really be that simple

“You can’t.” But that just made him laugh.

“Sweetheart, you’ve got no idea what I’m capable of.” And there was something dangerous in that; you didn’t know what he was capable of. “And I can be very persuasive when I want to be.”

“I told you; I don’t do this.”

“This can be whatever you want it to be. I’m very adaptable.” He reached for you again, fingers brushing your cheek before you managed to pull away.

He looked ready to say something else, like he had some line on the tip of his tongue that he was sure would convince you, his lips even parted ready, but nothing came out. You weren’t sure why until a moment later.

“Oh my god, there you are! Do you know how long I’ve been standing around waiting for you?”

Tammy. You didn’t know whether to be glad of the interruption or pissed at the tone she was taking with you.

“Sorry,” Billy stepped around you, towards Tammy, “I distracted her.”

“That’s -“ and then the impossible happened. Tammy actually fell silent. You decided that it must just be the effect that Billy tended to have on women.

“I’m Billy,” he offered out his hand and Tammy was quick to take it, no doubt falling for his charms already. And Billy, well, obviously he’d managed to get over whatever momentary insanity he’d been suffering from when he kissed you and had moved onto the next victim.

Only that wasn’t exactly what happened.

“Oh, I know who you are, Mr Russo. I’m Tammy.”

“Wait… what?” If anyone heard you, neither bothered to respond. How did Tammy know who he was?

“I hear you’ve just been interviewing to come work for me,”

For him. Not with him.

Your stomach dropped, remembering something Karen had said about a Russo, about how Frank called him a pretty boy and Karen thought he was a bit of a womaniser. He kept talking to Tammy but you barely caught a word, too stuck on everything that had happened and how you’d let it.

“Come on, Tammy,” finally, you snapped out of it and started to walk, “if you want a ride home we need to go now.”

You didn’t even wait for an answer, you just let her say her goodbyes to Billy.

“Let me know when you’re free to go for that dinner,” Billy called after you, You chose not to answer, some part of you hoping that Tammy wasn’t going to follow because you knew what would come next.

Fumbling for your keys, you had them in hand before you got back to your car, not daring to look behind you. What had just happened? Your lips still tingled from his kiss, you could still taste him, could still feel his hand on your hip. And some part of you was inexplicably still annoyed that the moment was over.

Tammy followed behind you, calling after, barely making it into the passenger seat before you started the car.

“Oh my god,” she exclaimed and you steeled yourself for the oncoming argument, “you are the best friend ever.”

There was no sarcasm, no anger - she was actually smiling at you. What the hell did she think you’d done?

“What?” Throwing the car into reverse and trying to ignore the fact that Billy was there, watching you as he made his way back towards the office building, his office building. There was something unknowable in his dark gaze as it followed you and, again, you found yourself thinking about how you had no idea what he was capable of.

“Flirting with Billy-fucking-Russo to get me a job at Anvil.”

CHAPTER TWO

END NOTES : if you made it this far, thanks for sticking around. Like I said, this is something that started out as an original piece and I was struggling to find the energy to finish it. I’ll be trying to release a new chapter at least once a week, though the second part will probably be up in a few days time because the first two chapters are really just to help set things up, and I know that’s not what people are interested in. I already have the first five chapters pretty much written, they just need some editing before going in the queue and, in total, I have around 20 chapters planned. I’ll be working on this through NaNoWriMo too, so how much I get done might change the posting schedule a little.

Likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, though this fic will be posted regardless of engagement because I just need to get this story out of my head once and for all.

Anyway thanks for stopping by, I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are!

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #the punisher #billy russo fanfic #billy russo x female reader #cmifyc ff

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its-time-to-write · 1 year

Note

PLEASE i am on my knees for jamie x reader where she’s just crying thinking about all the times he needed someone but no one was there.. and now everything is great, he’s grown and he has so much love and support and he has her but all she can do is sob because when you love someone you wish you were could be there to hold them even if they were 8 and their dad was a dick.. yknow??? AND he’s just holding her face, nodding and reassuring her he’s fine and he has so many people, especially her, and he’s lowkey choked up too

So. This is actually a mix of two writings. The first part is from your request, the second is something I wrote shortly after my very first post. I actually wrote it because I was processing some personal things, so… yeah. Here it is. Just be warned, it talks about abuse and stuff, Jamie’s dad shows up and is his regular, douchey self. If that’s upsetting for anyone, just be aware. If this needs more warnings, let me know.

i don’t know how you keep smiling/i’m just choking almost constantly

“He what?” you whisper, tears streaming down your face. “You’re telling me he took you there and made you do that?”

You’re sitting on your couch in your flat, legs across Jamie’s lap. He’d come over out of nowhere an hour earlier, just knocked on your door and said, “Can we talk?”

You let him in because of course you can talk. You make tea, sit down on the couch, and words just come spilling out of Jamie. It is all about his dad. How he drank, yelled, and hit, precisely in that order. Watching his mum throw him out and accept him back in, in what felt like an endless cycle. Hiding how bad it really was for her because his dad was making her laugh and she was smiling and anyway, it’s not like the bruises were anywhere anyone could see.

Jamie tells you how his dad came to his game the night before, went to the locker room, and how Jamie punched him. He says he’s scared of his dad finding him, because his dad always makes good on a threat, and he doesn’t usually have anyone to talk to but he figured you might be a good listener, what with being his girlfriend of five months and all. He says it all while staring at the chipped mug on your coffee table, the one he insisted you can’t throw out because it’s his favorite, and who care’s if it’s a little damaged? It adds character.

But all you can think about is little eight-year-old Jamie, hiding under his bed and pulling out his front tooth because his dad broke it, so he can tell his mom he just lost it like all the other kids.

You think of what you were doing that year. You would have just turned six, chasing your brother with a fairy wand and a nerf gun, ponytail flying.

The mental image of Jamie under his bed, cowering in a corner, learning to cover up welts and to lie to his mum brings a fresh wave of tears. Just the thought of him being alone makes it feel as though your heart is breaking, and you wish you would have known him then. Your parents would have loved him. Wouldn’t have let his father come around and hit him.

He just finished telling you about Amsterdam, and you can physically feel your soul shatter into pieces on his behalf. The fact that he can’t even remember it is what really gets you.

Jamie, meanwhile has stopped staring at the mug and is now looking at you. “It- it’s alright, love,” he says. “I’m here now, and it’s alright.”

Through blurry eyes, you can see that it is not alright. Jamie’s eyes are watering now too, and he pulls you onto his lap. He wraps his arms around you and you let him bury his head in the crook of your neck.

You sniff and pull yourself together. “No, Jaim, it’s not alright. You can say, ‘I’m alright,’ or ‘I will be alright,’ but what that shithead did to you is not and never will be ok. And I’m glad you’re telling me about it, and I’m only crying because I keep thinking about how you must’ve felt. It’s not because I can’t handle it, because I can. And I want you to know that I’m here for you, and you’re going to be ok.”

Jamie has started shaking in your arms, and you feel a tears start to drop onto your neck.

You run your fingers through his hair and whisper, “You’re ok. I’m here, I’ve got you, and you’re ok. I’m not leaving. You’re ok.”

—

That was the first real time Jamie ever told you about his dad. You’d talk about it periodically, whenever it got really bad, and he also started talking to a therapist. Doctor Sharon, you think her name was? Anyway, he’s getting better in his mind, which is good, because sometimes you don’t know what to do beyond listen. And you do. Soon, Jamie’s stories about his dad begin with, “Dr. Sharon says…” and he’s not as angry anymore. Not as jaded, not as broken. There are still deep cuts, but his spirit is coming back. He’s not broken in such a way that he can’t be put back together, piece by piece.

—

It’s not until you’re out to dinner at your favorite restaurant that something actually happens.

“Jamie,” you say, face serious, empty plates between you.

“Yes, love,” he replies, matching your expression.

“I think that we should get ice cream.”

His face breaks into a smile as he slides his hand off the top of yours to run it through his hair. “Babe. We just ate enough food to put a horse into a coma, and you want ice cream? What about digestion?”

“Jamie. Listen-” you both argue as he pays the bill, takes your hand again, and swings it while you head in the direction of the ice cream shop.

“-And if you think about it, it’s actually a wise food choice,” you continue.

“Babe,” he laughs, “I just think that you might be making up the health benefits of strawberry ice…”

Jamie's counter-argument has trailed off as he stares at something ahead of you, rather someone who is stumbling down the sidewalk in your direction.

You have never seen this man before, but you know exactly who he is.

He's still a good seven feet away when he yells, “Well, well, look who it is. Me son, who can’t even take the time to return his own father’s phone calls! Just joking, just joking, hey? And who’s this fine little lady?” he asks, punctuating his words with a few fake punches in Jamie’s direction as he draws closer.

Jamie is still holding your hand, but has maneuvered himself in between you and his father. He has yet to say anything, so you take your cue from him and keep silent.

James Tartt, Sr. is in front of you now, and it is more obvious now than ever that he is intoxicated. He's swaying a little bit as he stands, and there is the stench of alcohol with each breath he blows. Jamie is holding your hand so tight that it hurts, but you don’t let go. You grip it back.

“Dad,” Jamie says as a way of greeting, face taut.

You're under a streetlight, but not many people are around this time of night.

“Jamie,” his father replies, mocking his serious tone, “is this how I find out you’ve got a girl? Runnin’ into you on the street? Couldn't have sent me a quick message about it, hey? Oh I joke, I joke,” he says. His words are grating, and he keeps punching at Jamie. You do not like it at all.

“What d’you want, dad?” Jamie asks, gripping your hand harder, if that’s even possible.

His dad wipes his face. “Ey, listen, since you’re ‘ere, what do you say you get me tickets to the Man City game this weekend? Can spend some quality time with this one.” He winks at you in a way you’re sure he thinks is endearing, which is a problem because three things happen in rapid succession: his dad makes a rude comment about quality time, Jamie pushes you behind him saying, “Don’t you ever fucking speak to her,” and James Tartt shouts, “You self-righteous, fuckin’ pussy!” and moves to hit Jamie.

You’re not sure which one of you he’s talking to, but it doesn’t matter because Jamie’s dad is on the ground and people are starting to stare. You pull Jamie’s still clenched fist down and say, “Babe, let’s get out of here,” while James Tartt is drunkenly trying to stand.

“Babe,” you say a little more forcefully. “let’s go.”

Jamie snaps out of it, lets out a short, “Right, yeah,” and then you’re walking as fast as you can in the opposite direction.

Not fast enough, apparently, because you still hear his father yell, “That's two you’ve got on me, boy! You better watch your back!”

You have no circulation in your hand and for the first time that night, you feel real fear. Not for yourself, but for Jamie. You may have never met his father, but you’ve heard enough. You know that he always makes good on a threat.

Jamie looks back twice to make sure you aren’t being followed, and you just walk. You walk a mile past your flat and then circle back. Jamie hasn’t said a single word, just held your hand like it was the only thing anchoring him to the world. It's not until you’re on your doorstep that you decide to break the silence.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You’re facing each other, you one step above him so you’re almost eye-level.

Jamie shakes his head and looks away. “Not- not tonight. I don’t think I can- I’m not sure-”

“Hey,” You slowly lift your free hand and brush a stray strand of hair from his forehead. Not slowly enough, apparently, because he still flinches almost imperceptibly, “It’s alright, Jaim. We don’t have to talk about it tonight.”

Jamie blows out a sigh, and you slide your hand from his hair to his cheek. He just looks so tired, all the anger and defensiveness gone out of him.

“Your place or mine?” you ask because there’s no way in hell you’re letting him be alone tonight.

Jamie shakes his head slightly. “I can’t. I have training tomorrow.”

“Jamie-”

“No, look, I just need something to be normal. And I don’t want you coming over in case me dad fuckin’ decides to come ‘round. I'll come over tomorrow after practice and we can talk then.”

He says it with such resigned finality that you don’t fight him on it. You whisper a soft “alright,” and then wrap your arms around him as tight as they can go. Jamie hugs you so hard you almost can’t breathe, but you don’t ever want to let him go; you memorize the feel of his arms around you, his head in the crook of your neck, and the erratic beat of his heart.

He lets you go after a long moment, waits to make sure that you get inside safely, and then you watch him begin the two-block trudge to his house.

You stay awake until your phone dings with a made it from Jamie, and then, despite all the thoughts swirling in your head, you fall asleep.

——

You startle awake by someone yelling outside, followed by a loud knocking. You squint at the clock which reads an awful one a.m. for a split second you wonder if it’s Jamie at your door, then you catch a word this person is yelling.

Whore.

You’re wide awake now. You grab your phone to text Jamie as his father continues to pound on your door yelling, You stupid fucking bitch, no one messes with James Tartt, I’ll make you fucking pay for that shit he pulled!

The text goes through and you wait a second before calling 999. They answer your call and promise that someone will be over right away. You know for a fact Jamie is still asleep, but you call him just in case and his sleep-deprived voice answers on the third ring. You can only get out a few words - outside, your dad, police - before he is wide awake and on his way over.

——

It's all kind of a blur, really, and you feel truly horrendous, but all you can think about is Jamie. You’re not really sure how he does it, but he is at your flat right before the police. All your neighbor’s lights are on now, and Jamie is in your doorway holding you tight.

You think about how awful this must be for him.

It's his dad. It’s like being a kid all over again.

You’re supposed to be the one person who he can feel safe around, but now you’re asking him to step into a volatile situation.

He got woken up in the middle of the night when he needs his sleep, which resulted in him seeing his dad get arrested.

All you can say is, “I'm sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over again, as you try not to cry into Jamie’s pajama shirt.

He pulls back a little and wipes a stray tear from your cheek.

“Your place or mine?” he asks, because there’s no way in hell he’s letting you be alone tonight.

You shake your head. “Neither,” you say. “You have training in two hours.”

“Yours,” he says as he gently backs you into the flat and shuts the door.

“What about Roy?” you ask. Roy gets pissed if Jamie skips training.

Jamie pulls out his phone and narrates as he types: “Granddad. Won't be at training this mornin. If you’re mad about it you can go fuck yourself,” and then presses send.

You have the bizarre urge to laugh. “Jamie, you did not type that.” You try to grab his phone from him but he holds it out of your reach and shuts it off.

“Oi. We’re going to sleep and we ain’t thinkin about anything until 10 tomorrow, yeah?”

“Ok,” you say.

He takes your hand and leads you to the bedroom, where you finally fall asleep in a tangle of limbs.

You might not be ok right now, but you will be. You’ll both be alright.

#jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt #ted lasso

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pix3lplays · 10 months

Text

Got a comment requesting the next part to the running away while pregnant bit, and if you ask I shall try and deliver haha, so here we go!

A part of this!

Cw! Pregnancy

-Honkai star rail men finding pregnant!Reader-

Welt Yang: You actually return to the Astral Express of your own volition, a couple months later, and visibly pregnant. The way Welt dropped his cane when he laid eyes on you…you were back! Alive and well! “Y/n? Y/n!!” he ran up to you, grabbed both your arms gently, looked you up and down and his eyes settle on your stomach. “Oh…OH, y/n?” His voice is suddenly softer, more gentle. “You’re?” You nod. “I-how long have you known?” he asks, not knowing what else to say. “Where were you, I was so worried about you, I don’t know what I’m supposed to do if something were to befall you, y/n…” “I know. I’m sorry…” you answer his questions in order. You’ve known for five months now and you were hiding out on the Luofu. “I was afraid. Afraid of what you would think if I told you…so I ran…” “Y/n…” he’s so soft, so gentle with you as he clutches your hands and guides you to a soft seat on the Astral Express. “I’m not upset. I promise you. We could’ve faced this together, we still can face this together…to be honest with you I would’ve been so happy to hear you were pregnant, in fact I’m overjoyed just thinking about it…so please…there was no reason to run…” You lean against him, feeling his warmth, his gentleness. He was okay with being a father. More than okay. There really was no reason to run from him. “I’m so sorry,” you cry, and he cups your face with his hands and kisses your cheek. “It’s alright. We can restart, together. Would you…like that?” And you nod, feeling the tears streaming down your face inevitably slow.

Sampo Koski: He eventually finds you. After…years. You were living in Belobog, among a nice family who agreed to help you hide from him, when by coincidence you ran into him while you were walking your child to school. “Sampo…” you say quietly. You’re ashamed at the sight of him. You grip your child’s hand a little tighter, pulling your son away from the blue-haired man. He doesn’t even seem to notice you have his kid with him at first. He rushes to you and pulls you into a hug, holding you tight, asking where you’ve been this whole time, why you’ve been hiding from him…why you thought getting pregnant meant you could just…leave him like that? He’s answered when your little boy tugs at his coat. “Who are you?” his kid asks, and he recognizes those green eyes as his own and it all clicks that this is THE kid! This is the reason you’ve run away…his own little brat…looked about five years old or so. Has it really been that long? You looked older…Sampo looked older too, he couldn’t deny. “I believe I’m your dear old man,” Sampo responds with a playful smirk, before returning his attention to you. “How are you?! I’ve missed you so much, you know?” “I know, and I’m sorry, I just thought…if you knew…” “I’d react badly,” he finished the thought for you, before glancing down at his child, who stared back up at him with wide eyes. “Who am I kidding, you’re probably right but….but y/n I loved you, and still do…and no little brat is gonna stop me from loving you…” “I’m not a little brat!” his son pipes up. “I know, Sampo…I know, I’m sorry! It was impulsive and I was just…scared,” you say, temporarily ignoring your poor little kid’s protests. “Please…let’s talk this out. I know we can figure this out, y/n, just gimme a chance,” he wrings his hands together. “I’ll even be a father to that kiddo, I promise, let’s just talk okay?” Well… You knew deep down that Sampo probably wouldn’t be much of a father to your kid, but you did love him…and maybe it’d be worth talking to him. And raising a child on your own had been no easy feat. Even just a little bit of help might be good, right? “Alright, Sampo…let’s talk.”

Jing Yuan: Jing Yuan is working on some very important paperwork in his office, when he suddenly hears the sound of familiar footsteps running toward his office before the door swings open. Yanqing appears, and he nods once, trying to catch his breath. He ran all the way here. The nod is all Jing Yuan needs to see to know…they found you. … You’re both sitting in the gardens, he’s pouring you some tea. You’re visibly pregnant now. Neither of you had said anything since you’ve been brought to him. Finally, he takes a deep sigh, and speaks. “Did you…really leave because you got pregnant?” he asks calmly, no sense of judgement in his voice. You can’t meet his eyes, not yet. “I thought you were happy with just Yanqing. I thought…this would be too much. What with your busy job, and…” you trial off. There’s really no excuse for what you’ve done. “Y/n…” he sighs. “I would’ve been…so, SO happy to learn we were having a baby. I’ve missed you. More than I can even express. I’m so sorry you felt like you had to run from me. I’m sorry that I’ve failed you as a partner…” and you finally look into his eyes, and you can see he’s genuine. “You didn’t fail me. I failed you. I’m sorry,” you say, a hand resting on your stomach. You take the tea he’s poured for you, and sip at it. “Would you ever consider giving me another chance?” “My dear…of course…I thought that was a given,” he smiles, then laughs a bit. “This is our chance though, not just yours. I need to prove to you that I am worthy to be a father to our child…I promise you, I will do all I can for our family…” “I know,” you smile, and watch as he stands up. He helps you to your feet. “Now, why don’t you get some rest? You look like you could use it,” he chuckles, and you smile and agree and let him lead you to bed.

Gepard Landau: it’s been a few months by the time Wildfire finally finds you. They quickly return you to the Captain of the Silvermane guard, and Gepard’s tired face seems to soften when his eyes meet yours. “Y/n! You’re okay…thank goodness,” he breathes, mostly to himself as he wraps you into a hug. That’s when he feels it. Your stomach is larger. He pulls away, gazes at you in amazement. “You’re-?” “Yes,” you nod. “I’m so sorry, Gepard…when I thought about what you might say…I got scared…” “So you ran…” he nods calmly, in understanding. “You frightened me. Badly, y/n…but I promise you, I’m not upset that you’re pregnant.” “You’re…not?” “No. I’m ecstatic, just thinking about it makes me so happy, just promise me, y/n, that you won’t run away again…please…I’m not sure I could handle it…” He takes your hands, kisses your palm when you nod in agreement. “I won’t run. Not anymore. We’ll do this together.” “Yes, let’s,” Gepard smiled. “Y/n…we have so much to talk about now…” you could tell he was already picturing the two of you decorating the baby’s room. And the two of you just…talk. Talk about your future together, talk about the baby…you figure things out.

Luocha: Luocha hasn’t stopped looking for you ever since you disappeared, the only clue to your whereabouts being that cryptic text message you sent him. That was about five months ago… Wouldn’t you know it…his merchant contacts have finally paid off. Apparently you’ve been spotted on the Luofu… “Meet me at that cafe you like,” he sends you a quick text, not entirely confident you were going to show up, but it was worth a shot, right? But there you were! Visibly pregnant, waiting for him at a little table by the window. “Luocha…” you whisper, watching as he sits down across from you. “Did you think I couldn’t handle this news?” he asks, referring obviously to your pregnancy. “I…I didn’t know. I was scared to find out…”you admit. His green eyes are piercing through you. “I see…” you can feel his disappointment. “You could’ve just told me, y/n…I would’ve taken it calmly…” You bury your face into your hands. “I know. I recognize this now. I’m so sorry, Luocha…” “I forgive you, just…tell me you’re going to stay with me, okay? We’ll get through this together,” he says. Deep down he doesn’t want that kid. But what choice does he have? He wants you back. And if taking care of that baby is what it took then fine, he’ll be the greatest father he can be, for you, and for his kid. “I promise. I’m not going anywhere…” and you let him hold your hand while you cry for a moment.

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sturniololoco · 5 months

Text

sick

C. Sturniolo x fem reader

Requested: nope!

Warnings: sickness, vomit, etc. fluff

*unedited*

Y/N’s POV

I woke up this morning with an awful pain in my stomach and my head. I was also sweating like crazy, and was glad, for the first time ever, that Chris was on his side of the bed for once. I lean over and look at the clock on my nightstand.

3:27 am

Just as I decided I would try and get a little more rest before morning, my mouth went dry and a horrible pain shot through my stomach, coming up my through.

Not caring about waking Chris, I tore off the covers and sprinted to the bathroom, just in time to empty the contents of my stomach into the toilet.

Suddenly, I feel my hair being pulled back out of my face and off my neck.

Chris I assume.

After about two more rounds of vomit, I leaned back into Chris sitting on the cold tile floor, shaking.

Taking the hair tie he kept in his wrist just for me, he tied my hair into a loose bun in the back of my head, and then held me close.

Only then did I notice the tears streaming down my sweaty face.

“Shh, you’re ok mama, you’re ok. Good job getting all that up, do you feel any better?” He cooed in my ear.

I start to shake my head yes, but the sudden movement caused a sudden wave of nausea, and my head was back over the toilet bowl. Chris continued whispering praises and comforting words onto my ear.

“I-I think I’m d-done.” I said in a shaky tone. Throwing up has always been one of my biggest fears and I was terrified that I would do it again.

“Ok mama, why don’t we go get you back in bed-“ Chris started to say but I cut him off.

“N-No, I wanna lay on the floor.” I’m still sweating like crazy and I could never imagine getting back under those covers.

Chris gave me a confused look but agreed all the same. He gently picked me up and walked me back to our room, and laid me down on the cool floor. After he let me go, he started to walk for the door.

“Chris? Where are you going? Don’t leave me.” I whined, giving him grabby hands.

He walked back over and kneeled in front of me.

“I’m just gunna run upstairs and get you some ginger ale and crackers to help your tummy, ok mama? I’ll be right back, I promise.”

“Can I have cuddles when you get back?” I asked, my voice sounding strained from throwing up, but whiny from being sick.

“Of course ma, anything you want.” He gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head and made his way upstairs, leaving the door open.

The cool flooring of Chris’s room was cooling me down and I was begging to stop sweating. I was actually starting to get a little cold and started to shiver.

Chris came back with ginger ale and crackers like he promised, but also brought a heating pad, some medicine, and a thermometer.

He then grabbed some pillows of his bed for me to lay on, plugged in the heating pad, and carefully adjusted it on my tummy.

“Ahh” Chris said with the thermometer in his hand, tapping my chin lightly with the other, motioning for me to open my mouth. I did so quietly and waited for the beep.

Chris took the thermometer out of my mouth and looked down at it with wide eyes.

“Damn, 103.2”

I groaned, knowing that this was NOT going to be going away soon. I gave Chris grabby hands again, wanting to be held, but instant he handed me two crackers and a little cup of ginger ale with a straw.

“If you can eat at least one of those crackers and have a sip of ginger ale, I’ll give you some cuddles.” He said, giving me a look because he knew I wanted to complain.

I gave him a pout but took a sip of ginger ale and slowly started nibbling at one of the saltine crackers in my hand.

“Good girl, ma” he told once I finished tue last of the cracker in my hand. I shoved the other one back in his hand not even wanting to think about eating another thing.

He chuckled and put the cracker back on the nightstand, then scooped me up into his lap, being careful not to mess up my heating pad. My eyes slowly started to close as I began to drift off, listening to Chris whispering sweet stuff into my ear.

About 30 minutes later I sprang up from Chris’s lap and, once again, sprinted to the bathroom, throwing up that cracker and single sip of ginger ale. The rest was all acid.

The tears were flowing again a Chris came in and fixed the hair tie holding up my bun.

Once I was finally done, I collapsed back into Chris’s arms and sobbed,

“M-Make it stop…please make it s-stop” I begged gripping onto Chris’s arm with as much force as I could muster.

“I know mama, it’ll get better soon, you’re doing so good.”

He was right. Over the next week, we went to see a doctor, finding out that I had gotten food poisoning. However, Chris was with me every step of the way, always taking care of me.

“Thank you for taking care of me Chrissy. I love you.” I said as I snuggled into his chest before going to sleep one night.

“I love you too mama, I’ll always be there for you whenever you need me. I promise.”

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic

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littlelioncub43 · 11 months

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i'm so glad tech tuesdays are back!

thought: what if you caught kurt kunkle sneakily livestreaming sex with you, and you decided to let the viewers choose if he gets to cum or not?

Ooooh hohohohohohohohoooo 😈 yes

He's so gross. Let's fuck him.

He really thought he could get away with it. Like, honest to God. He didn't think you'd notice his laptop webcam light on, especially with the screen brightness all the way down. The moment you did a double take at the oddly angled laptop, Kurt knew he was fucked. And he meant literally fucked.

You stopped your bouncing the moment you saw the little green light, your head cocking to the side as you stare at the completely dark screen. Kurt is still under you, gasping and trembling (he was trembling the whole time but now you can tell it's for a whole new reason).

"W-wait—" he stutters and tries to sit up.

"Shut up," you spit and force him back down with a firm hand on his throat. He whimpers when his back hits the mattress, his cock throbbing from how tight your grip is on his neck.

You pay him no mind as you lean over and turn up the brightness. Lo and behold, it's streaming. Countless messages flooding the chat as you realize how long it's been streaming. Nearly 2 fucking hours.

"I'm didn't-I'm sorry," he whines, sounding close to tears. Again, you ignore him, instead opting to read a few messages to yourself. Your silence scares the shit out of Kurt but he couldn't help the way his cock seems to get even harder in his fear. He tries to speak again, but you tighten your grip on his throat, his breath now a gentle wheeze.

"I said shut up, Kurt," you look down at him now, anger pouring out of your eyes, noticing how Kurt tries to rut up into you on instinct. You glare down at him for a moment, thinking about what to do with him while you watch his face turn a soft shade of pink. With a smirk, you start grinding in slow circles on his cock, drawing a thin whine from the boy underneath you.

"You were being such a good boy, Kurt," you tsk at him with a disappointed frown, "I was going to let you cum inside me," he whines brokenly at that, his face crumpling, "but now I don't know if you deserve to cum at all."

"M'sorry! I-I — please! I'm so sor-sorry! Please!" He cries, his eyes watering even more.

"Do you think begging will help you?" You coo mockingly, bringing your lips to brush against his cheek, giving the sweaty skin soft kisses. "Poor, dumb, baby," you whisper before forcing him to look at you, letting him fill his lungs with air again, "it's not up to me whether you cum or not."

You force his face to the side to watch the chat, a constant stream of messages flood the screen.

Don't let him cum!

He doesn't deserve it!

Make him cry 😏

Edge him, it'll be soo hot!

Fuck him faster

You see his brown eyes get even bigger when he reads some of the chats. Kurt was already desperate for his release, he needed to finish or he might actually die. The tears that built up in his eyes finally spilled over with a soft sob.

"Oh n-no! Please! I wan-need it! Need to cu-cum, please!" He cries, his hands clawing at your hips that keep their tortuous pace, trying to speed you up. You giggle and turn him back to face you, your hips now bouncing quickly, blubbering apologies and whore-ish moans pouring from his open mouth.

"Play stupid games, win stupid prizes."

#tech tuesdays #tech tuesday #tech tuesday will be fun #sweet nonnie who sent my first kurt kunkle ask!#kurt kunkle x reader #kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle smut #kurt kunkle x you #kurt kunkle x y/n #kurt kunkle x fem!reader #sub!kurt kunkle x dom!reader #sub!kurt kunkle #kurt kunkle x female reader #little lion literature

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mistywaves98 · 1 year

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BEST FRIEND I BEG YPU FOR MORE YAN SCARA/WANDERER 🙏🏾🙏🏾

Imagine him forcing you to accompany him on his travels, and whenever he’s like horny or something he forces you off the path/road and just screws you under a random tree or something 😭

I really liked this little prompt and I wanted to use this idea for my event, hope that's alright anon! ^^

✧･ﾟ:* ->Yandere! Wanderer(Scaramouche) x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: Scaramouche is referred to as Wanderer, Plot isn't really that great, Don't question the logic in this fic,Implied degradation, Dub con/Non con, Yandere/Dark Themes, Forced companionship, Stockholm Syndrome (?), Descriptions of messy sex, uhh not really much else to add!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Reblogs are greatly appreciated!

He often referred to the both of you as 'travel companions' which usually made people's eyebrows raise in surprise. You couldn't blame them, as you two certainly did not look like equals. Not when your hands were constantly bound together and absolutely not when there was a rope tied around your neck, the end tied to Wanderer's hand. To those who were none the wiser to your situation, it seemed like you were his slave. And at times he did seem to treat you like one, but he also treated you like a friend, maybe even a lover, other times. Most of the times it was the latter but if you behaving particularly rebellious or stubborn, he'd make sure you knew your place.

Sometimes you wonder how you ended up here and it would all come back.

You had met him in Sumeru while on a journey to visit some distant relatives and when you heard he was on a journey too, you offered to let him accompany you. He was taken aback, but also seemed intrigued at the idea of travelling with another person. So he decided to join you.

To two of you walked side by side, admiring the many sights and scenery you passed along the way. The way you smiled so happily made him feel happy as well. Whenever the day turned into night you would find somewhere to stop and rest while he 'kept watch' as he told himself since he didn't actually need sleep, not that you knew and always thought he was just an early bird. The way you treated him, so kind and friendly, it warmed the heart he didn't have and even if he didn't want to admit it, he liked that feeling, the feeling you gave him.

One day however, after you had woken up and gotten ready to set off again, you suddenly noticed that you were going off course and let him know, beckoning him to follow you down another path. He didn't seem to be listening though. His eyes we're focused on something in the distance. Then suddenly, to your shock, he grabbed your arm and pulled you down a different way. You yelped and struggled helplessy and said if his destination needed you to part ways from here, he should let you go. He responded only by saying that he wanted to see the world and you were going to see it with him, like it or not.

Since you wouldn't come quietly, Wanderer was forced to subdue you and tie you up so you couldn't run away, which you tried, each attempt more futile than the last. Now you were stuck by his side, going wherever he wished, 'enjoying' the sights with him, which really was just you waiting for him to finish take it all in before continuing your endless journey.

But that wasn't all journeying him included. Whenever he got horny, however it happened, be prepared to be pinned down and have your guts rearranged until he's satisfied.

It's really random too, one moment you're walking down a dirt path and the next you're being pushed up against the rough bark of a tree. He's not nice about it either, he's mean and rough, holding your hips in place as he pounds into you at a pace you can't keep up with. Drool runs down your chin and your eyes practically roll back into your skull from how good it feels as tears stream down your cheeks at his degrading words he spits at you.

It doesn't matter how many times you've cum, or if you came at all, Wanderer won't stop until he's had his pleasure of finishing inside you as much as he wants. In that moment you're merely a sex doll to him. And when he's done, he simply zips up his pants and pulls on the rope around your neck, a silent gesture telling you to get up and if you can't, well, that isn't really his problem to fault that your mortal self can't taking a little fucking, so you're simply gonna have to be ok with being dragged across the floor, but not before he has a little laugh at your pathetic state, disheveled hair, sweaty clothes, shaking legs and that fucked out face always brings out a dark giggle from.

If there happens to be a water source nearby, say a lake or something, he'll be a bit more generous and help you clean yourself up. Perhaps you two will rest there for a while but most of the times he's too eager to get going.

As time goes by you slowly feel as if you're being eaten alive from the inside. Travelling with him is taking a bigger toll on you than you would have thought. And it shows. Day by day your appearance becomes more and more worn down, you're tired. But you can't do much about your situation now. You're too tired to run away and even if you had the energy to do so, it would only be a matter of time before he found you again and the earth you'd have to face would be borderline unbearable.

Eventually you just accepted it. Accepted that this is your life now, that it's pointless trying to think of escaping. Wanderer noticed it too. The way you were more compliant and less resistant to his advances, it made him happy.

Finally, he's broken you down into the submissive pet he wanted from the start. It's rather sad that he probably won't see you smile naturally anymore, but he can always force one onto your lips, real or not, so he can get over that. He's just pleased that you know your place now, by his side and the both of you will spend the rest of eternity together, he'll make sure of that, one way or another.

#✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*#✧･ﾟ:* meena's memorable moments! ✧･ﾟ:*#smut #x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #yandere #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #yandere scaramouche #yandere smut #wanderer x reader smut #wanderer smut #yandere wanderer #yandere wanderer x reader #yandere wanderer x reader smut

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samenameastheothers · 6 days

Text

Right Person Wrong Time pt. 2

✨MDNI✨

Ummmm hellooo!! First off I want to thank everybody for the love on pt. 1…like wtf I was not expecting that! Anyway I hope you all enjoy pt. 2 it's a little shorter...

I'm hoping to make one more part but classes suck and so does life sometimes so I have no idea when ill get that out. Everyone who asked to be tagged will be tagged again in pt.3 and if you want to be tagged, add a note at the bottom. <3

Warnings: Graphic descriptions of sex, reader dreams of cheating, swearing, itsnothappyyetbutipromiseitscoming :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You finished your mission, got the information the Rhysand needed, and left. The effort it took to continue made up some of your hardest moments, and that was saying something. Regardless, you had continued on. Azriel was always behind you, you could feel his presence even more now with the bond, but he made sure you could never see him. Upon your return to Velaris, you masked everything, the bond, and your true feelings about it. You were good at that, masking what you felt, that's the reason you were in the inner circle, in The Court of Dreams in the first place. You wouldn't be here if it weren't for your excellence in discretion, it's the way you kept secrets that made you stand out to the High Lord those years ago, made you stand out to him. It didn't matter anymore, what made you special, rumors got out that you sold information to other courts a few months ago. After hours of integration by your own partner, there was no evidence that you did it, but no evidence that you hadn't either. You begged Feyre to read your mind, to prove you were innocent, but she wouldn't do it. You had sobbed, tears streaming down your face, trying to convince not only the man you loved but also the man you worked for that you would never betray him. He had walked away. Even after the truth came out, that you were not a traitor, he never came back…

“Until two weeks ago,” you say under your breath as you walk back to your apartment from the meeting you had been in for most of the day.

You have been reminiscing about that night when he ate you out like your cunt was the last sustenance on earth, but more importantly the night you found out the male who broke your heart was your mate. How could you not have felt it before? You knew the connection between the two of you was strong, but how could the two best spymasters in the whole of Prythian not realize that they were fated for each other? The look on his face that night made you believe he hadn't suspected it either, and the fact that he has been absent at every court meeting for almost a month since makes you certain about how he feels being tied to you. Nevertheless, you were concerned, scared that he would do something rash, but mostly you wish you could get Azriel out of your head. Non-stop you were thinking about him, even more than when you were in an actual relationship with the male. You had tried drinking, hell you had gone out every night with Nesta before she got concerned and stopped taking you, but nothing worked. He was always there.

You walk into your bedroom and let out a deep breath, you're exhausted and need a nap. You make your way over to your bed, shedding your clothes. Opting to sleep in the underwear you had on is better than going to bed in your full outfit. Your head hits the pillow and instantly you're asleep…

Usually, your dreams aren’t vivid. I mean you've had crazy nightmares and weird sex dreams before, who hasn't? This time though, it's different.

At first, it's dark, you can't sense anything in front of you.

“The fuck?” you mutter, it feels so real, the feeling of nothingness.

Then you hear it. A woman, moaning in ecstasy, she's saying someone's name but you can't make it out. Suddenly the image appears before you, a room, darkly lit, a woman on a bed of silk and an Illyrian male on top of her. You see him slide in and out of her, the lewd sound of his cock wet with both their pleasure makes you feel oddly out of place. You can’t seem to make out the image in front of you, it's constantly going back and forth between definitions so clear that you can make out the sheen of sweat on the skin of the woman he fucks, but every time you try to focus on the male you can't make out who he is. It's frustrating, you would like to enjoy this dream but something feels wrong, the male seems familiar. You don't realize who it is, not until the woman moans out his name again,

“Azriel” she gasps and sighs like it's her own mate's damn name.

“No” you whisper.

You can feel your heart break as you watch what's in front of you. You sink to the floor. Your eyes can't seem to stray from the sight of Azriel burying himself inside the other woman. He covers her mouth with his, his face now in full definition, his tongue sliding in and kissing the woman passionately.

“No stop please stop!” you start screaming at them, screaming at Azriel everything you have felt since he walked out of that interrogation room, and everything you wished you had said since. Your cries fell on deaf ears, he doesn't even turn his head to recognize that you are there. Even when he was upset at you, his eyes always seemed to find you, wherever or whatever you were doing. His moans now filling the room mixing with the crying of the other fae. You can’t help but remember the night he told you that you were the only woman who was ever able to get those sounds out of him. You can't stand it anymore, watching the woman come undone by him. You try to move but you are rooted in place unable to stop yourself from witnessing the breaking of your heart. It seems like you stay there for hours, you've long since been numb, tears steadily slipping down your face.

Finally, Azriel slides out of the woman and stands up off the bed. You watch, somehow still mesmerized by him after everything. The way his shadows wind up his naked body makes him look like some dark god as he walks towards you. You are still sitting there, practically kneeling as he reaches you. Azriel grasps your face in his scared hand bringing you up to stand in front of him, his dark eyes burning into your soul.

“My love, why do you cry?” he says in a voice softer than you expected. Softer than you have heard him speak to you in a while. It startles you, the way he seems so caring, and when you look into his eyes you see tears in them.

“Azriel-” before you can respond his lips crash into yours.

You feel darkness colliding all around you, the sensation of him then the sensation of nothing again, over and over. You feel as if you are falling, you try to scream but smoke fills your mouth, and-

You wake up to your room filled with shadow.

Tag list:

@sidthedollface2 @sillymercury @brieflyclassymortal @abewitchingwillow @crazylokonugget @kalulakunundrum @fxckmiup @azriels-shadowsinger @gorlillaglue25 @domciak84

#acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar #azriel smut

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