#i feel BAD trying to shift his boundaries | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ceilidho · 8 months

Text

take me home, country road

[ao3]

prompt: 1800s price/reader…. reader flees to his town where Price is the sheriff after a murder in her previous town only to be mistaken for the mail order bride that Price just sent for ….and he’s not interested in hearing any of her excuses when she tells him that he’s got the wrong girl (part 3) part 1, part 2

“Neglecting your husband already?” he asks when you pull away from the arm curling around your waist. It’d migrated there from your back during the walk away from the courthouse.

“You know I’m not—I’m not some horse that you can just…break in,” you seethe, glaring up at Price. Your arms are crossed tight over your chest, putting the slightest boundary between you and him. It’s more of a mental boundary than anything, a self-soothing gesture; you know it hardly even registers to him because the man still looks down at you with that unimpressed expression, like dealing with a particularly vexing child.

“I hadn’t noticed,” he says dryly, looking you up and down. It’s a scorching, hungry look and it makes you shift from foot to foot.

The two of you stand outside the front door of his house, the front door still shut tight. You put up a fuss on the walk from town as the reality of your situation finally sunk in, squirming in his hold until he threatened to just load you over his shoulder and carry you off. His tone leaves little for you to doubt. Nothing about him brooks skepticism; until the end of time, you’ll look at John Price and think, this is a man of action. This is a man that will move heaven and earth.

You clam up after that, lips pursed shut though turned down at the corners.

It’s a bigger house than you might’ve expected for a single man, but perhaps it was built with a wife and children in mind. The thought makes you swallow. A wooden two-story thing with a porch out front and an adjacent stable for his two horses with a pen around back. Speckled Appaloosas that look up at the sound of his boots and keys, attentive for all of a few seconds before losing interest.

You know without asking that Price must have built this house with his own two hands. It’s not shoddy by any means, but his house has that indefinable quality that some places have. Organic. Homegrown, almost. It’s hard to put up against the houses of your youth, but then again, you grew up in the cramped quarters of the city, apartments thick with the scent of sewage on bad days and dust on the good. The two are hardly comparable. It’s even harder to put up against the estates that you’ve spent the better part of the last few years cleaning and learning inside out, but at least his house doesn’t make your stomach turn at the sight.

There’s a moment when you first turn to him where you wonder if he’ll look for approval in your face, some sign to set him at ease, but when you meet his gaze, it’s steady and impenetrable. Quietly self-assured. It’s incongruent with the machismo you were raised around, the constant need to impress or transcend. It puts you on edge. It makes you almost feel like baring your teeth.

Your comment had come from seeing the horses and the house and the porch with the two rocking chairs, your hackles raising every step closer. Price built his house big enough for children because he anticipated a baby in his future. Children he’d have with his wife, which, though a fuzzy memory as far as memories go, you quietly stepped into the role of not half an hour ago.

You’ve thought about it before. Motherhood; marriage, domestic living, settling down with a man to start a family. The reality of your life has always made it seem like a problem for the future. Years chipping away like flakes of faded paint off the walls of your bedroom, still living with your aunt and uncle well into adulthood, trying desperately to scrimp and save and stay afloat. Disappointing but not surprising that you’d never been considered the marriable sort, not with scrubbing other people's toilets for a living.

And now look at you, ring on your finger and whisked home to be bedded. A shiver roles down your spine at the thought and you scowl at Price instead of sinking into the strange thrill.

When he wraps a hand around your wrist to pull you towards him (his fingers easily overlapping; another thrill), you snap.

“That is quite enough with all the touching!”

His eyes narrow. “I’ll have more than my hands on you by the end of the night.”

A more proper woman would gasp. You barely hold yours back.

You know in the back of your mind that you’ve already lost any semblance of an upper hand in this situation. It has long spiraled out of your control. His ring sits on your finger all nice and pretty, and though you signed your marriage license under a different name—your own rather than the name of his actual intended—that Price hadn’t even bothered confirming, you are, for all intents and purposes, his to touch as he pleases.

“I’m—” your eyes dart around, the urge to bolt a sharp and sudden compulsion lodged in your chest, “—I know I said yes, but I—there’s always the possibility of an a-annulment if we don’t…if…”

You flinch, startled, when he pulls you into his chest only to cup your face again. He has big hands with callused fingers, rough against your skin. Up close, you can see the way his beard is cropped closer than his mustache and mutton chops. It gives him a grim air, almost somber until you catch his eyes staring down at you with an affection that feels unearned, meant for someone else.

“Deep breaths, darling, there’s nothing to fret about just yet. You’ll work yourself into a state like this,” he murmurs, dropping his head to sip a kiss from your lips again.

You’ve been in a state since the moment you walked into the sheriff’s office and laid eyes on this man. Turned around and knocked sideways, like you’ve walked into a storybook without noticing. If only it hadn’t all been so sudden, you might’ve been able to approach the situation with a clearer head. You might’ve been able to think up some other way out of it beyond giving Price a fake name and waiting anxiously for your true identity to be painstakingly drawn out over the course of a week.

“Don’t know why you keep working yourself up,” Price says softly, then slots your lips together for another tender kiss. “Figured you might be a little skittish, but…’m gonna be such a good husband for you, honey. Not gonna want for nothing.”

His slow kisses drag out longer than back in the courthouse, languorous and decadent. As if he has all the time in the world now. In a way, he does, now that he’s helped collect your belongings from the inn and brought you home. When you think of pulling away, the hand wrapped around your wrist lets go and slides to your back, pulling you flush against his chest. Your breasts flatten against his chest, pulse skittering like mad when you feel the hardest of his chest against yours and the muscle holding you in place.

You can’t help the whimper that escapes your lips when the hand on your cheek slides to the nape of your neck and grips, holding you in place. The kiss deepens, the heat on your cheeks feeling palpably hot, vision swimming until your eyes have no choice but to flutter shut. Your suitcase sits forgotten somewhere in the dirt, toppled over onto its side. You pant low, hot breaths into his mouth when he breaks the kiss, letting his lips just hover over yours.

“There we go, darlin’,” Price mumbles against your mouth, sliding the hand on your low back down to grip the plump flesh of your ass through your dress, lips twitching when you make a broken, affronted sound. “Isn’ that better? Not thinkin’ so hard?”

You can’t think at all, in truth. When he kisses you again, your thoughts evaporate up into the clouds, the tongue licking into your mouth dispelling any ideas or notions you might’ve had. It disappears into the heat and lust and the fingers digging into your backside, groping at the flesh there without shame or compunction. You go with him when he clutches you closer, gasping again into his mouth when you feel something hard press against your low belly. He grunts when you twitch against it.

“John—John—” you gasp, pulling your mouth away and whimpering when he chases after you, letting him steal another wet, slick kiss before your trembling hands clutch at the fabric of his shirt. “Enough—it’s not—it’s not proper—”

“No prying eyes around here,” he grunts. “‘Sides, who’s going to tell a man he can’t kiss his own wife?”

Trembling all the harder at his words, you dig your nails into his shirt sleeves and hope you pinch the skin underneath. All twisted up inside. The ring on your finger glimmers when it catches the light, brighter even than the sun this close to your face. When Price feels your nails dig into his arms, he groans, fingers pressing harder into your bottom and making you squeak. All the pent up lust finally trickling out of him and into you.

“C’mon, honey, let’s get you inside.” He finally lets you go after giving your bottom lip one last wet suck, pulling it into his mouth while his half-lidded eyes stare into yours. It’s somehow more intimate than kissing.

You’re still reeling when he turns around to pick your suitcase off the ground, certain that your knees will give way and send you tumbling as well. Every point of contact on your body sizzles, aches. You watch from outside of yourself as he turns back to you, suitcase in his hand now, eyes still dark and fixed on you. Hungry. Your eyes widen when they flit down to find a thick bulge at the crotch of his pants.

Like a cold bucket of water has been dumped over your head, you hiss and back up three steps when he takes a step towards you. “Oh no, you don’t take one step closer! I won’t have anything to do with—with that!”

You must look like some feral barn cat, back all puffed up, teeth bared to the man trying to coax you towards him. Price must see it too because he grins, amused. “Still spittin’ mad, huh? Felt those claws in me before, darlin’…gonna love feeling them with nothing between us.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Price doesn’t bother clearing anything up, but you intuit it the second he takes another step in your direction, whirling around and sprinting towards the house. It feels counterproductive to seek shelter in the man’s house, but dusty plains stretch out in every direction apart from back into town, where you know not a soul will lift a finger to help you. His house is the only shelter you’re going to get.

You hurry up the porch stairs, tearing open the door before glancing over your shoulder to find Price not far behind. He advances on you at a walking pace, but each stride of his long legs matches two of yours, making you shriek and scurry up the staircase. You dart for the first open door you see, slamming it shut behind you and leaning your whole weight against it. Glancing down, you perk up at the sight of a lock on the door before flipping it.

It’s not long before the sound of boots clomping up the staircase meets your ears, headed straight in your direction. You shake when you hear him pause right outside the door, then startle when he tries the knob.

“You gonna let me in, darling?” Price asks, grin in his voice. Even raps his knuckle against the door for good measure.

“No,” you snap.

“Not even for your things? Got your suitcase right here.” You hear him set it down, a little clunk against the wood floor.

“I can manage like this. I’ve slept in my dress before.”

He pauses. “Have you?”

You tilt your chin up proudly despite the door blocking his view. “Yes, and I don’t mind doing it again. You can just stay on the other side of that door until you…until you put that thing away.”

“Can’t do much about that thing, darling; it’s sort of grown on me over the years anyway,” Price chuckles. “Well, not much I can do with it behind this door. I’ll go tend the horses ‘till suppertime comes ‘round and then come back to tend to you.”

“Licentious…reprobate,” you hiss through the door.

He laughs, the sound deep in his throat. Your stomach flips.

The stairs creak under the weight of his boots as he descends back downstairs. You wait until you hear the front door open and shut behind him, until the house is completely quiet save for the blood pumping in your ears before you hastily unlock the door and dart a hand out just to pull your suitcase in. You shut and lock the door as soon as it passes the threshold.

It takes a while to settle your nerves and for the trembling to subside. In the meantime, you sit on your bottom at the foot of the door, with your back still pressed firmly to the wood, and take stock. There’s a bed in the room, one you hadn’t noticed in your mad scramble to lock yourself in. A bigger bed than the one you’d slept on back at the inn, but just as sparse, with gray flannel sheets and a blue quilt folded and draped over the end of the bed.

The rest of the furniture in the room—two end tables, a chest of drawers, a desk, and two chairs situated in the corner of the room—appears so consistent in its design that you have to wonder if Price made them by hand as well. Hardly a reason to question it. You think to yourself that you’ll have to ask him how he finds the time only to quickly shake that thought away. Can’t be getting too chummy, certainly not if you don’t expect to be around in a month’s time. Hopefully less than that.

You chew on your lip at the thought of fleeing in the night.

It trickles into your thoughts while you open your suitcase on the bed and riffle around for your nightwear. Price will likely keep you under lock and key for at least the first week of your marriage, giving you little opportunity to take off any time soon. If only you’d held your tongue and played the demure bride, he might’ve had some cause to trust you. Certainly not now, after your most recent display.

Your own stupid fault, as usual. It’s not the first time your temper has gotten the better of you. You’ve faced worse consequences for it.

Outside the window on the far end of the room, a horse whinnies. You pause, remembering that Price hadn’t gone very far. When you glance out curiously, you see him letting the horses into the pen, giving one a good rub down the bridge of its nose. The horses seem to melt under his touch.

It’s strange watching him from far away. From a distance, it’s hard to reconcile him with the man that bent you over his desk not an hour ago and tanned your bottom. You cringe at the memory. It’s not that Price doesn’t seem like a man that would take his wife over his knee if he saw fit to do so, but you still can’t imagine yourself as that woman. When you think about it, it feels like a play, something you saw happen to someone else. Not you wailing and squirming like a cat in heat.

As if feeling your stare, he glances up at the window and winks when he catches your eye. With a squeak, you leap away from the window, scurrying back over to the bed.

A couple hours pass in restless contemplation, practically biting your nails to the quick. Eyeing the windowsill like you still might go over there just to check on what Price is up to outside. You hear him come back into the house once or twice, tensing up at the sound of his boots, only to be left vaguely disappointed when you hear him leave and the screen door slam shut behind him.

You spend so long holed up in the bedroom that you miss lunch entirely. Below you, you hear Price puttering around downstairs in the kitchen—the sound of a knife chopping vegetables and then the sizzle of meat on a pan. The hunger pangs nearly make you break, but you’ve gone without food before.

Your heart skips a beat when you hear him ascend the staircase again and place something just outside of your door. He doesn’t try coaxing you out this time, just heads back down the stairs and out the front door. Again, you ignore the pang of disappointment; ignore the urge to open the door and holler down the stairs for him to stay gone.

He leaves anyway.

Curiosity needles at you though, so you open the door up a crack when you’re sure you’re alone. There’s a plate at the foot of the door with vegetables and meat, slightly cooled but still fresh, the plate still warm. He must’ve known you wouldn’t try coming downstairs and fixed you up a plate.

You eat in silence at the desk, bad mood ripening. Angry at yourself and everyone else. Even John. Especially John. The audacity of fixing you up a plate, of thinking of you in the first place. Irritated enough to stand boldly by the window this time, hand clutched in the curtain, tracking the movement of his shoulders and hips when he moves with the horses and fetches water from the well. You lose sight of him a couple times as he finishes up the day’s chores around the house, but the flutter in your belly always settles when he comes back into view.

It’s easy to let yourself admire him from afar, somehow less humiliating without his eyes on you. He’s a solid man, body carved into its shape from the rough labor that’s part and parcel of living out on the frontier. A wide back tapering down to lean, narrow hips and thick, muscled thighs hewn from lifting and pulling and all manner of physical work. You bite your lip when you remember what it felt like to cling to that back and dig your nails into his arms.

You give your head a shake. It’s dangerous to let a thought like that latch on.

In the few hours between lunch and sunset, you occupy yourself by reading one of the books stowed away in your suitcase. Then get bored and refold your clothes. The horses bray when they’re taken into the stables for the evening. The crickets out in the bushes in the yard chirp as the sun sets pink in the far distance. It’s quieter out here in the plains than back in the city, you think, something you haven’t yet had the time to appreciate.

When Price comes in for the night, you’re firm in your resolve to keep the door shut. If lunch at the door was just an attempt to butter you up, he has another thing coming. In a house this big, there’s likely a guest room or somewhere else to sleep—a sofa or a sleeping bag tucked away under the stairs. He’ll just have to make do while you take the bedroom. There’ll be no sharing a bed with the man that grabbed your backside like a piece of meat.

He doesn’t come up the stairs right away. Like before, you hear him rustle up supper, spatula scraping against a pan and knife coming down on a chopping block again and again. Not enough time has passed since lunch for you to feel more than peckish. You’re thankful for that when you hear him sit down to eat.

The knock at the door startles you. You hadn’t heard him come up the stairs. “Ready to talk now?”

You stare balefully at the door. “No.”

“We have to figure this out sometime, darling.”

“No, we don’t.”

“I’m sorry if I gave you a fright earlier, but, honey, that’s how husbands kiss their wives. Nothing improper about it.”

“I’m not frightened, I’m just not—we don’t need to do any of that,” you huff, embarrassed all over again. “You’ve hardly given me any time to even think. I didn’t know you from Adam this morning and now we’re married.”

Price sighs, the sound muffled through the door. “What am I going to do with you, honey?” It’s said to himself, a fond exasperation that puts you on edge all over again. He has no right to be amused with you, no right to be delighted and charmed by your ire.

“Well, you can sleep somewhere else for the time being. I’d prefer the bed to myself.”

He lets out a low, dark laugh. “There’s not a chance in hell that I’m sleeping anywhere but with my wife from this point on. You oughta come to terms with that quick.”

“Well then, you can sleep out there because I’m not unlocking the door!”

He lets out a mean sound, almost mocking. “Yeah, ‘bout time I addressed that, huh?”

His words make you frown until you hear a floorboard creak as Price does something on the other side of the door. Then the doorknob jiggles. Horrified, you watch as the door unlocks and the knob turns, your husband’s body filling out the door frame. You’d forgotten how well he could fill one out. He almost has to duck to come inside, mused hair from working outside all day brushing against the top of the frame.

“Always put a key on the top of the door, just in case,” he explains, pinching the little silver key between his thumb and forefinger before shutting the door. Your heart jumps when he locks it behind him. “Ready to talk now, honey?”

#ceil writing #cod mw2 #cod x reader #captain price #captain john price #john price #cod price #price x you #price x reader #price/reader #john price x reader #mail order bride au

2K notes · View notes

yesimwriting · 8 months

Text

something about bestfriend!felix who's so used to the world bending over backwards to please him that he seems entirely separated from the concept of boundaries.

it's one of the few things about him that remains unspoken because it reminds those in his social circle that no matter how much influence or money they might have, someone has more. and that someone is felix catton.

he's never weird about it, there's just this rule that everyone learns to pick up on and never mention. if felix wants to go out for the night or do anything socially with someone, it's customary for that person to cancel any other plans.

it might be more of an issue if felix's proximity didn't feel like sunbathing on an early summer day, but it does. so he's used to not having to work to get someone where he wants them.

until you.

despite your friendship still being relatively new, the two of you have bonded enough for you to accept his presence instantly.

felix didn't call before coming over. you answered the door after two knocks, grinning as soon as you saw him standing there. you didn't even think to ask about the lack of notice, you just invited him in and made some comment about how you were just studying.

he told you he didn't mind if you wanted to keep studying, that he brought over his own textbooks just in case. even though you were set up at your desk, you moved your supplies over to your bed so that you could sit with him.

it started off as separated as the two of you ever are, just your bent knee pressing gently into his lower thigh. your shared restraint dissolved quickly.

you're practically laying down, back partially supported by a wall and two pillows, felix's head resting on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair. he's holding up a textbook for you with one arm, fingertips absentmindedly brushing against your bare leg.

he breaks the silence with a sigh. when you don't respond, he turns his head and presses his lips against your thigh. your nails freeze against his scalp. "felix."

"lovie," he replies, tone as scandalized as yours. you sigh, and he can practically feel your eye roll.

felix grins, turning his head look up at you. he knows he should be good about this, about you, but he's not accustomed to practicing this kind of restraint. he's preoccupied with terribly soft thoughts of closer when he blurts out the question, "come out with me tonight?"

it's only a question by technicality, his eyes bright as if you've already agreed.

you press your lips together, and the hesitance in the look jabs at him. he brushes his knuckles against the side of your leg like that might tip the decision. "i have an econ test on monday."

the excuse deflates him. it's only friday, and even if it wasn't, you don't need to worry about your grades. there's a naturalness to your schooling, you grasp everything almost immediately. any personal selfishness aside, you don't need a weekend of studying. it's objective fact.

you're still watching him, expression unsure. "y'know too much studying's bad for you." your lips part, but before you can say anything, felix is shutting the book he'd been holding up for you.

he extends his arm, his palm covering the upper half of your face with the palm of his hand. you laugh out his name. "what? your eyes need the rest." you shift, still giggling as you halfheartedly try to push him off. "you'll get a headache."

your fingers wrap around his wrist. "you're my headache."

he lets out a mock gasp before pulling away entirely. felix doesn't miss your slight pout as he sits up. "actually?"

you're chasing after him, sitting up and attempting to grab his arm. felix lets you. "no." you squeeze his arm to you. "i meant it in a you're my best friend way."

"that so?" you nod innocently, all wide eyes as if to say see? i have no intentions of being anything other than a perfect angel.

felix pretends to contemplate forgiveness, then, with no warning lays down. you're not given a chance to deliberate what that means before he's tugging on your arm. he mumbles a brief, explanatory, "c'mere," as he pulls you into his chest.

you listen, moving to rest your chin against the side of his chest. your arm's across him. felix's shirt has ridden up right where your fingertips naturally rest. the bare contact makes goosebumps break out across your arms.

"go out with me tonight," he tries, voice soft. you have to drop your gaze to keep from immediately melting and agreeing to whatever he wants. "c'mon, think it's good for you to take a break every now and then."

you lift your head up just enough to glare at him. felix shifts his leg, pressing it against yours. you push back gently, just enough to reciprocate the gesture. "so you're saying i'm a friendless loser that only ever goes out when you make me?"

"i'm saying," he extends the syllables to buy himself some time to think, "i have to go, and i won't have any fun without you."

you find it hard to imagine that felix catton ever has to do anything he doesn't want to. you're also confident in his ability to find fun at a party. "you have farleigh, and oliver, and annabel--you'll be fine without me."

his hand is on your back, fingers tracing lazy patterns against the fabric of your t-shirt. "i don't want anyone else." the soft whine in his tone paired with his slight pout makes him seem smaller, like a little kid that just needs to be wrapped up. "i want you."

"you have me."

felix frowns, "doesn't feel like it."

you're losing. "do you really want me to go that badly?"

he smiles, feeling the crack in your resolve. "we'll just go for a little. have a drink or two, then y'can sleepover if you want." you do like sleeping over in felix's dorm. "and then tomorrow we can do whatever you want--study, watch a movie, dinner."

a sleepover and a saturday. this no longer feels like a loss. you smile, "deal."

felix's available hand finds your hip. "that's my girl."

the comment makes your face feel warm, you drop your head to rest on his stomach to hide any potential signs of being flustered. he'd tease you to no end about it. "i should get up, start getting ready."

he runs his hand down your back, "it's not until later." he moves his hand back up slowly. his thumb starts traces circles against your shoulder. "we've got time."

----

omg bestfriend!felix blurbs are everything to me,, if you have any thoughts about bestfriend-verse pls lmk,,

also?? might have to write a full fic for bestfriend-verse

taglist; @vader-is-hot @spiritofbuddha @getosangie @freyafriggafrey

#saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

2K notes · View notes

blackbirdie1234 · 8 months

Text

Paul's Imprint

What being Paul’s imprint would be like.

A/N: Not proofread. Hope you guys enjoy this and let me know if you would like me to do the other pack members or the Cullens(what being their mates/bloodsingers would be like). I really appreciate all of the likes and reposts! Thank you all so much and I am glad you like my fics :)

Being Paul’s imprint would require A LOT of patience.

He has a soft spot for you, so his anger wouldn’t be taken out on you or directed much toward you, but that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t see his bad side. When someone in the pack pisses him off he usually gets upset and phases. They fight it out, and then he comes home. He is either still upset or wants serious attention. If it’s the former expect some attitude and him taking it out on basically everything else but you. He might be aggressive with things, slamming things down and being loud. You would probably need to give him some time to cool off some more before trying to comfort him. If it’s the latter then you will have to have a cuddle session, his favorite position is laying in the bed or couch with his head in your chest and you playing with his hair and talking about your day. Your voice soothes him and calms him down, so he likes it when you talk to him. He could care less what you talk about, you could tell him about your day, or how much you hate that one girl in your math class because she chews gum loudly, you could literally talk about anything and he would be content.

Being Paul’s imprint means a lot of love and affection.

When he isn’t on patrol, he is with you. He will be on you and hugging you all of the time. Now if you have trauma with affection or just don't like to be touched he would 100% respect your boundaries, but he would try and find small ways to show and get affection. Like holding your hand or even just touching his pinky against yours when you are next to each other. He would find ways that wouldn’t make you uncomfortable and was still getting his needs met. He doesn’t mind showing his affection in front of others either, he could give less of a fuck if the pack teases him. He loves you and doesn’t care who knows it. At the beginning of your relationship, he was very careful, learning what you liked and what you disliked. He was also very subtle with his affection but he still craved it just as much as he does now. He would softly play with the hair on the back of your head while talking by the fire, small and soft touches here and there, he would DEFINITELY do that thing where guys softly touch your waist while moving behind you.

Being Paul's imprint means you would spend a lot of time with the other imprints.

You would probably be close with the other imprints. Having a werewolf boyfriend isn’t exactly normal. You might feel alone or lost a bit in the beginning. Paul was one of the first to phase, which means you most likely were also one of the first imprints. Especially if you knew Paul before the transition. Emily was one of the first imprints you met, she was so sweet and welcoming to you, and your bond turned into a sibling relationship. She treated you like family right away and made sure you knew that you were always welcome. You met the others as they became a part of the family and now you spend a lot of your time with them. You do a bunch of group things together, shopping, baking, cooking, movie nights, and of course bonfires. You all enjoy each other's company. The boys are on patrol a lot and it helps everyone get their minds off of missing them.

Being Paul’s imprint means late-night texts and calls.

Again, the boys are on patrol any time of the day or night. When Paul takes the night shift he makes sure to update you and let you know that he is safe. He is also expecting the same from you. He misses your voice, especially when your schedule gets busy and you can’t see each other as much. Sometimes he’s able to slip away for a second to see you, give you a hug and a kiss and then he is back out patrolling. He does it more often if he is patrolling near your house, mainly so he can do it quickly before Sam notices that he is missing and makes him come back.

Being Paul’s imprint means he is VERY protective of you.

He is already a protective person, it doesn’t matter if it is his friend, family, or even a stranger. He will take a bullet for someone he doesn’t know, it’s just in his nature. For you on the other hand, he would take that bullet and then hunt the person who shot it down until they beg you for forgiveness for even daring to THINK about hurting you, all the while he is still bloody and hurt. His protectiveness also correlates with his jealousy. He is a very jealous person when he is in a relationship. Even though you are his imprint he still can’t help but let the green-eyed monster loose whenever another person hits on you or checks you out. He knew you were hot, but you were for his eyes only. Being a werewolf means having to control your anger, but Paul was never really good at that, so most of the time it was you who had to calm him down. You didn’t want your boyfriend to maul someone, especially not in public. You were the only person who could calm him down fully, you would reach for him with your soft touch and everything else would fade away. Sometimes all you had to do was give him a stern look and he would cool himself off not wanting to make you upset. It bothered you sometimes how angry he would get, you tell him all the time that he is the only one for you and he has nothing to worry about but he still lets his jealousy get in the way of reasoning.

#twilight #twilight imagine #twilight saga #new moon #the twilight saga #paul lahote x y/n #paul lahote imagine #paul lahote #paul lahote x you #paul lahote x reader #twilight wolves #twilight wolfpack #wolf pack #jacob black #embry call #embry call imagine #embry call x reader #sam uley #vampire

1K notes · View notes

imsilay · 1 year

Text

VENOR

NSFW! mdni +18, cw: stalking, stalker!König (idk lol lmk id i have to add anything)

word count: 1.3k

summary: His obsession for you was overwhelming. So yours too.

pt.2 posted! here

cr: dwisesz on twt (sir is that seat taken?)

There was something about the way you talk, move, look, glance at him; and he was enhanced by you. That was why he wanted to watch you all the time. You were his only entertainment, his deep desire and obsession. His obsession was too strong and he was powerless against it. He just couldn’t resist the craving he had for you. So he was ignoring all your personal boundaries just to keep observing you.

He watched you in awe as you walked around your home where you're the most relaxed and vulnerable. The black, silky nightgown you were wearing was making his head spin. The way the dress moved along with your body as you got ready for your night routine was impressive. First, you'd make a cozy spot for yourself. Then, you'd put on some music to play in the background while you read and drink some tea.

He watched you carry the absurdly large pillows to your nest. Your petite form was sinking into the couch that was filled with pillows and blankets. He crossed his arms and leaned back against his chair. He was glad that he had enough time to set multiple cameras in your house when you were at work. The perfect angle to see you was the camera on your bookshelf. Your body was directly towards it and the nightgown slid up to your thighs. You didn’t seem to have a problem with it. But he had a problem, a huge problem. He had a fetish for the delicate skin of your thighs. He wanted to mark them so bad. The bite marks he’d leave on your thighs would make them look more gorgeous. But it’d make him look like a madman, right?

He continued to observe you but it was hard to pry his eyes off your thighs. The next stop was your breasts. He felt his cock throb at the sight. Your nipples were noticeable thanks to the thin fabric and you, for not wearing any bra at home. He swallowed thickly and his arms tensed against his chest. How he wanted to bury his head between your soft breasts… Using your chest as a pillow after a horrible nightmare would heal him. You were his only remedy.

Then his gaze shifted to your neck, which he wanted to kiss and suck hickeys on. A soft sigh drew his focus on your neck and his shoulders stretched. What happened? Were you not feeling good? Were you cold? Concern gnawed at his heart as his whole body tensed. But it was nothing he was expecting. Your bottom lip was captured by your pearly teeth and your legs now crossed. Your thighs pressed together and rubbing slowly. He narrowed his eyes trying to process what you’re up to.

“Verdammt.” he hissed as he closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead with frustration. His mask was hiding his flushed face but nothing could hide the massive bulge on his pants. “Bitte Liebling, tu es nicht.” (Please darling, don’t do it.) he mumbled and looked back at the big screen in front of him. How could you be so cruel? Teasing him like that… Your body squirming as you stubbornly continued to read that book. Was that the reason you were pulling down your panties and spread opening your legs? “So hübsch.” (So pretty.) he mumbled at the sight of your wet cunt.

You must feeling so comfortable with satisfying yourself in the living room because you had no problem letting out loud moans as your fingers rubbed at your clit. He couldn’t resist his painful arousal anymore. It was okay if he satisfy himself along with you, right? It wouldn’t harm anyone. He unbuckled his belt swiftly and unzipped his pants. His cock spung free and hit against his stomach when he pulled down his boxers. The tip of his cock was red and dripping precum from all the time he was holding back. He groaned and tipped his head back as he fisted his fat cock with his large hand. That man was big. From head to toe, everything about him was big.

Your desperate and needy whimpers were filling his room as he jerked off the perfect view of your pussy. “I bet your small fingers can’t even reach the spots that make you squirm.” he mumbled a he focused on how desperately you fingered your greedy cunt. “I could do that for you, Maus. I’d finger your pretty pussy until you can’t cum.” he mumbled between his whimper and groans. His thumb drawing circles on the sensitive tip of his cock while fantasizing about what he’d do to your pussy. When your moans turned into cries he knew you were close. Your hips twitching and your head pressed to pillows. He was also close and he cum along with you imagining how good it’d feel like cumming inside you.

You stayed there for three more minutes before getting up and taking a cold shower. He cursed himself for not being able to put a damn camera in your bathroom. He waited until you get out, trying not to break his own neck for that great mistake. He finally took a deep breath when you got out of shower but he chocked on his breath when he saw you in only a short towel wrapped around your body. That fucking towel wasn’t even covering the half of your body.

“Mein Gott.” he breathed. The towel dropped when you stood in front of your closet to pick up your pjs. His cock got rock hard instantly. He didn’t even tried to convince himself to stop. It was all your fault for being so hot when you bend over to pick your panties up. His hand stroking his thick cock as he watched you get dressed. You liked to watch yourself from the mirror as you get dressed. It tortured him the most. The way your underwear clinged to your hips making them look harder to resist.

He felt like a pervert when he released another load of cum. His hips bucking up to fuck his fist. The comfort of being home allowed him to whimper and moan as loud as he wanted. He watched as you climbed on the bed and covered your body with blankets. His hand was still his twitching cock, watching you as you got ready for sleep. Now it was his problem that he was still rock hard… He got up and kicked his pants out, removing layers as he walked to bathroom. A cold shower was what he needed to suppress his animalistic urges now.

You smirked when the notification sound came from your phone. Your back was turned to the camera so he couldn’t see what you were doing. “How cute.” you murmured. The camera that you placed on his bathroom was working perfectly, providing you the most mouth watering view. He was showering, and he was moaning your name as he fucked his palm. Your finger brushed against the screen of your phone. Did he know you were a sucker for him? Did he know the necklace you bought for him came along with a tracker? How would he feel about you stealing the keys of his room? Which he never let you in. The curiosity was eating you alive. So you'd find out what he was hiding tomorrow. You continued to watch him shower until you fell asleep.

a/n: please support me by reblogging, if you liked the content ofc <3 your comments also makes my day :* and i love to reply all of them :>

yes, i finally did it :> imma post it now but i’m not satisfied with it. so i might delete sorry (:

tag:

@entityunkown @elichisstuff @mikisworls

for some content: You two are close friends so you got keys to his house and he do too. You know he’s in love with you -not that he’s too obsessed- but he doesn’t knows. The said room is that he keeps locked is the room he watched your home and was filled with your belongings, photos, videos etc…

taglist?

2K notes · View notes

tojipie · 1 year

Text

prison bf series linked here !

hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.

content: nsfw + phone sex

──────────────────────

the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.

the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.

you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.

“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.

the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.

“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.

“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.

“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.

“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”

he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”

“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.

“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”

you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.

“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.

“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”

he stills, looking you up and down quickly.

"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."

you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.

“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”

“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.

“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.

“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.

“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.

the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.

his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .

“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.

“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.

“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”

“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”

you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.

sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.

a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.

you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.

“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.

“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.

“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”

“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.

“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.

“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.

“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.

“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”

“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.

“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”

the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.

────────────────────────

tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa

6K notes · View notes

fraugwinska · 5 months

Note

Hello Springflower~

*slams envelope on the table and stare you into your soul whispering*

Alastor x reader where reader is asking him to show off as a fake "couple" because of one sinner who just won't stop annoying reader. Al agreed to help his dear friend and it started of innocent and cute with hand holding, kiss on the cheek- when SUDDENLY he kiss reader (in front of the sinner ofc) INTENSE and when he just stops for a second to kiss her neck she's like: "Al...? He's gone."

And he is like: "how disapointing"~

And just GOES ON

*leaves a heart cupcake next to the envelope and runs away*

For you - anything, sweet summer child. This just flowed out of me, and I was kicking my own feet as I wrote it. So... Here you go ;> I sincerely hope you enjoy it as much as I do.

❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️🦌❤️

Fake it 'till you Make it

The door slammed into it's frame with a bang so loud the glasses in it rattled. You panted, heart pounding hard in your chest as you tried to calm your erratic breathing. With shaking fingers you gripped the dark, wooden frame, so tight your nails scratched the furnishing off. You peered out of the yellow and red stained glasses, trying to identify the distorted shapes from the outside. Did he follow you? Was he still out there?

„What's...“

You felt a hand on your shoulder and reacted without thinking. You turned around with a shocked scream and whipped your arm out for a forceful slap. The sound reverberated around in the empty room as a slight stinging sensation ran through your palm. It snapped you back to reality and made you pause.

You blinked as your gaze went from your own, trembling hand, which now burned in an angry, red hue to a taupe face, the shadow of your handprint next to a wide, yellow smile. Your breath seemed to freeze as your eyes went up and finally met a pair of wide, burgundy ones.

"...the matter, dear?" Alastor finished, blinking before his face shifted slightly.

You stood speechless and frozen for a hot second, trying to recollect your thoughts before a tidal wave of emotion washed over your head. Embarrassment, followed by shock and, suddenly, by the sensation that started to build in your chest, the threat to bubble over in tears.

„Oh satan, Alastor, I-I'm so sorry. I, shit, I got you bad, I'm so sorry, th-there was.. and I was.."

You choked down another sob, words and feelings clogging up in your mouth. You rubbed at your stinging eyes, blinking away what you were trying desperately not to show. You thought it would have worked at least until Alastor's slender hands came up to wrap around your wrist and pull them away gently.

"Are you a singer, dear?" he chimed, his face unmoved, but his eyes softening a little. "Because that really was quite the hit! Ha ha!"

When you didn't join in his laugh, he immediately snapped out of it.

"But it seems my little joke was out of place, once again. What has you so rattled, little one?"

And this time, he actually made space and dropped the joke-y act, looking a bit worried. Which only added more pressure to the well in your chest. You squeezed your eyes shut to hold back any tears that tried to fight their way through, making yourself feel ridiculous.

"It's... there's this guy."

You swallowed sour spit down, licking your lips quickly before opening your mouth again, voice less shaky than you were feeling. "I saw him two weeks ago when I went grocery shopping with Niffty. He... he asked us for directions, I didn't know where the place he wanted to go was, and that was that. But ever since..."

Alastor's frown deepened. "Ever since then..?" he prompted carefully.

"...he kind of... pops up whenever I leave the hotel... he just shows up out of nowhere and asks me things. Follows me, doesn't listen when I tell him to leave me alone, doesn't know boundaries.." you balled your fists again, brows twitching down at the thought. "And today.. he tried to grab me, and I panicked, and I kicked him and he looked like..."

You looked back to the glasses.

"...it felt as if he was about to do something."

Alastor stared into you with these piercing eyes. It wasn't creepy, you didn't feel scrutinized or looked down on, and this wasn't the first time. Still, you felt that strange sense of unease in his intense gaze, like a cold hand was wrapped around your spine, running shivers down your back. It wasn't uncomfortable, per se, just... different. It had been months since you started your new job in the Hazbin Hotel as a bellhop, helping Charlie and Vaggie out in general. You weren't one to believe in redemption, but the work was easy, the residents nice and life, despite being dead, was good. It wasn't exactly peaceful, since living together with the radio demon sometimes had its challenges, but Alastor proved time after time that even if he could be quite eccentric, he was a good man deep down, funny and smart and interesting. Someone you could consider a friend.

That, however, didn't mean that he didn't spook you from time to time. He straightened his shoulders, brushed out imaginary dust from the sleeves of his suit, and when he spoke, there was an unmoving threat in his voice that he almost always hid behind his grins.

"He attempted to harm you?"

You furrowed your brows and stepped closer, leaving a little bit of space between you.

"I don't know... it felt like that. I didn't give it enough time to find out, I just ran back here."

"Smart girl.", he just commented, leaning over you to also watch the street through bulky glasses. You sighed and glanced out the windows. The sky had dimmed, red tinting the streets as it always did down here in the evenings. A few stray sinners stumbled along, either searching for a victim for the night or going home from their own sins. Still no trace of the demon. You could still feel the hot air of his breath on your neck when he bent forward. You grimaced at the thought of the stench of his sweat on the sleeves of your jacket.

"God... how am I going to go anywhere with him around?", you muttered to yourself, stepping back further and leaning against the table, burying your face into your hands. Alastor perked up at that. He tapped his cane against the floor.

"Oh, well I can't in good conscience allow my dear employee to fear the streets of the pentagram because of a silly pest."

You didn't catch his meaning. At least, not immediately. You shot a glance his way, giving him a skeptical look, furrowing a brow in confusion. "What do you-?"

He waved his cane, cutting you off, and put an arm around your shoulders. "I shall accompany you, then. When you need to go out, let me know and we'll show ourselves together. That sinner will get the gist then, I'm sure."

Your eyes widen. "Alastor, you're a genius!" you say with excitement as the thought slowly took root in your head, "If this creep thinks we're a couple, he might stay away."

"A what now?", Alastor asks, his smile faltering ever so slightly. However, his question was lost in your sudden enthusiasm, your excited rush of thoughts now loud and clear in your voice. "Then we should play the role in every aspect. We have to give off couple vibes, maybe show some PDA, nothing overboard, I know you don't like that kind of stuff, but holding hands might be believable enough. Oh, you're the best, Alastor."

"Yes, yes... so I've been told...", he replied with the usual giddy tone, although his voice sounded a little thick with white static.

You didn't pay much attention to it though, feeling a weight drop from your shoulders at the prospect of keeping the nuisance at bay. The whole idea might seem a bit strange to the others, but if it helped, why not?

***

"Well then, darling, ready to give the performance of your lifetime?", Alastor called the moment you exited the elevator. He was practically hopping over, grinning at you with a mixture of smugness, amusement and... something else. His smile grew, showcasing his pointed, sharp teeth with a flash. He was looking as dapper as always, dress coat neat and perfectly in place, cane ready at his hands - the radio demon as he breathed and lived.

"I hope so..." you muttered distractedly while straightening the hem of your uniform and peeking around the lobby. It was early morning and you had a not-so-short list of errands to run for the hotel. Alastor had been nonchalant about the trip when you asked him to accompany you last night, and you had half-assumed he had some matters of his own to tend to, or just flat-out backing out. But he just waved his hands and told you he'd be there at 8 a.m. sharp, which he was. In ALL the ways.

As it turned out the rumors of your plan must have traveled down the hotel grapevines fast and after a small bang and a hissed “Sssshhh!” from the left you saw the curious faces of Charlie, Niffty and Angel poking out the kitchen door, spying from afar and watching you and Alastor with bated breaths and loud-yet-shushed giggles.

"Don't tell me you're having a second thoughts on me accompanying you, dear.", Alastor stepped closer, wrapping his fingers around your hand in a tight grip, either oblivious to the audience or utterly non-fazed by them. You shook your head no, grimacing a little as your body tensed up in a bit of... concern. Not because of what you were about to do, no, it had everything and nothing to do with him and the... um. Hand. Touching.

"We can hear you, you know.", you hissed in the direction of the whispered squeals at his gesture, face scrunching up when a peal of giggling broke out and Angel audibly snorted through a quickly closed door. "Jus' be careful, tits, if 'ya go further than that with the oldtimer 'ya might need to buy some protection while 'ya out."

***

The plan was quite simple, but you guessed it had the possibility of either working like a charm or the idiot getting so mad, he could lose it and try something stupid.

Nevertheless, with Alastor on your side you didn't feel as paranoid and suffocated about leaving the grounds of the hotel. And his idea had worked out brilliantly so far. Not a single sign of your stalker, you had only met the usual faces on the main market road of the Pentagram City - maybe they stared a little more... okay, a LOT more, seeing you arm in arm with Al - and you ran into Angels' friend, Cherri Bomb, when you had to get some permits renewed. She had been friendly but extremely surprised and curious about since when you and Alastor, THE Radio demon were parading around 'like a pair of fuckin' newlyweds', in her words.

Alastor tried to brush her off with a monotone "What can I say? The good Lady just adores my presence.", squeezing your hand a little tighter, but his answer didn't satisfy her, so Cherri tried to pry into you, raising a brow and shooting you a smirk. "Al is a fun guy and interesting to talk to and spend time with. I like his company.", you shrugged, signing a paper, avoiding looking the cyclops into the eyes while you felt your ears redden.

It took her a good minute of blank stare, but when her grin slowly grew wider, you had no choice but to warn her with a hard stare and a small shake of your head. She rolled her one eye but she made a gesture of sealing the lips, still oogling the connection of your hands with impish delight.

At that moment you felt a squeeze on the hand, still in Alastor's grasp and his heavy stare from your right. His smile seemed fixed, a bit on the strained side, although his gaze remained cheerful.

"Everything wrapped up here, dearest?" he asked, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Almost done, just this document and the hotel can continue to serve alcohol. Husk would give me one hell of a shot if I'd forget that one."

You looked over to see if Alastor would pick up on the joke, but he was staring intently somewhere over your shoulder, so you just filed the form quickly and waved your friend goodbye. He quickened his steps, almost dragging you away as he paced down the street. You almost tripped over you own feet, trying to keep up with him.

"I think your persistent little pursuer has found us, darling. Don't look, just walk."

You sped up, also feeling a presence that had been on your heels a little longer than comfortable, a weighty silence behind your back. Still, as you rounded a corner, you just had to take a tiny peek and you saw, from the corner of your eyes, that the deranged looking coyote was gaining on you, still keeping his distance, his figure only a dark, moving smudge in the distance.

"Um... I guess now's a good time for a Plan B.", you said, halting in front of an antique shop.

Alastor's hand slid a bit lower, only his fingers curled around yours now, his warm touch tingling. "I'm thinking of it. Knowing your weak stomach, darling, bloodshed is out of the question?" he inquired, acting overly interested in a vintage gramophone showcased in the shop window and you snorted.

"You remember that?"

"Dear, it's hard to forget the amount of bile Niffty had to clean out of the dishwasher after you ran into my cooking...experiment."

"Not my proudest moment...", you laughed nervously, feeling cold sweat gather up on your back as you saw the rabid looking demon from the corner of your eye, creeping closer and closer. Alastor gave you a long, thoughtful look, before he spoke again, quietly and serious.

"Then let us both hope you'll stomach Plan B better."

Before you could think much, Alastor turned towards you, untangling his fingers from yours. His now freed hand cupped your cheek, and before you could say anything, he bowed down, tilting his head a bit to the side and gently pressed his ever-smiling lips against yours.

It was not your first kiss in your afterlife, but it might have very well been, seeing as your first response was an electric jolt up your spine. And this reaction wasn't even the weirdest part if the actual kissing part was just some peck. This wasn't a peck. A kiss with lips unmoving wasn't a kiss, it was more of a mouth-touching. This was something way more.

As surprising as the kiss was the tenderness with which he brought his lips to yours. It was gentle and yet so sensual that it sent small currents all over your skin, causing your eyes to close, goosebumps to form along your arms and a nervous flutter to erupt in the pit of your stomach. And maybe, maybe it lasted for just a fraction of the eternity it felt like, but if someone would have asked you later, you would swear he stole more than just a taste with the kiss. The slight push and pull between your mouths left the edges of your skin numb, the press of his smooth and heated mouth stirring up a peculiar feeling inside you that kept growing and rising and..

What was the reason for this again?

Oh yeah, your stalker.

Stalker.

You opened your eyes, seeing Alastor's burning red eyes fixated on something behind you, his expression intense with the hint of arrogance, a possessive smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something about that, the feel, the look in his eyes, made the back of your neck prickle. You blushed a little bit more but caught onto the reason the moment you realized what he was doing, trying to break the kiss to see where the coyote was.

You could only turn your head far enough to see the quickly shrinking silhouette of the demon vanishing in the distance, before Alastor brought his other hand to your waist, pulling you closer together, his tongue slipping between your lips, coaxing your lips to open again. Your own tongue responded and, together they mingled and twined with one another, sending the nerve-ending of your lips into a pleasant tingling sensation.

"A-Alas...tor...", you tried to get the words out as he nipped your lower lip, your eyes falling into those bright, heavy lidded ones of his, eyes which you couldn't stop looking into.

"He.. he's gone."

"Mh. Pity...", Alastor breathed with a soft hum, his chest rumbling at his words. His response had a mixture of sarcasm and amusement in it, but before you could properly ponder on them, your entire mind short-circuited when you realized he made no move to pull away.

Quite the opposite - with his hand sliding to your neck he pulled you onto his mouth again, deepening the kiss as his tongue slipped past your lips once more, completely shutting your mind down as a quiet, heartbreaking moan escaped your throat.

The fact that you two were in public, still standing in front of some store, all on display for anyone that might come down the road, didn't register in the haze that was slowly, so pleasantly slowly, forming. So lost were you in that fog of heat that the surroundings suddenly got distorted, leaving the alley, the store, the city completely. Your head spun at the sensations, a tremble raked across your nerves as your knees grew weak at the sound of his playful voice, echoing in the void you found yourself in.

"Let's draw it out a little more, darling, hm? Just to make sure."

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin hotel fanfiction #fraugwinskawrites #angel dust #charlie morningstar #hazbin hotel niffty #for the frauchen #quick fic

577 notes · View notes

gallaghersgal · 2 months

Note

TA lip making you cockwarm him while he grades papers because you couldn’t be patient and kept begging for him 🚶‍♀️

olive, i think this genuinely killed me. like im 6ft under. nsfw 18+. cockwarming, degradation, name calling, mean dom lip but he's secretly a softie, trust.

you're seated in lip's lap as he sits at his desk grading papers. it's a precarious perch but with the way you cling to his body it doesn't feel unsafe. his cock is brushing deep inside you, you've felt it go soft with time, as he made you wait and wait and wait for what you really wanted. you shift your hips just a bit, grinding until his tip just barely kisses your cervix. a pathetic whine falls from your lips, morphing into a startled yelp when a sharp smack! lands on your ass.

"cut it out," lip scolds. "so fuckin' needy. quit movin', you're gonna take what i give you, like the whore you are. y'understand me?"

you remove your face from its hiding place in his shoulder just to throw a frustrated pout in his direction, but he only shakes his head and threads his fingers through the hair at the base of your skull to pull you back tightly. you know better than to talk back but something in you wants to defy him. there's something to be found in the thrill of the chase, what you need so tantalizingly close, with him right where you need him and yet just out of reach. not without a great difficulty, you manage it, remaining quiet.

"you're gonna be good, right?" lip asks, his voice carrying a rough edge that has your walls pulsing around him. you feel him twitch inside you, watch him bite his lip before he adds, "gonna sit right here on my cock, an' do as i say?"

"y-yes," you manage, gasping when his grip on your hair tightens. he cocks his head as if asking, wanna try that again? "yes sir."

lip doesn't quite smile at your obedience, but there's a hint of fondness on his face. in that same stern tone that always has you willing and ready to do whatever he asks, he continues. "'ve got a deadline to meet, you know that. so you're not gonna keep squirming around, and whinin' an' shit. cause if you keep it up, swear t'god, i won't fuck you for a week. don't need t'do that to my poor needy baby, now do i?"

"no sir," you respond. "i can be good."

"good, good girl." he releases his grip then, giving soothing scratches to the area and smushing a quick kiss to your brow.

you're so eager to please, but when he tries to guide your face down to rest on him once again your stomach twists in sudden anxiety and you resist the pressure, letting out another small, needy whine. his hand moves from the back of your head to hold your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his own. you'd opened your mouth to speak but quickly close it again, frozen with intimidation, your eyes hiding from the intensity in his gaze.

"never fuckin' listen, y'stupid thing. i gave you clear instructions," lip growls, but when your glassy eyes brim with tears he finds an ounce of pity within himself. he ducks his head to meet your downcast gaze, and with a softer tone he asks, "what's the matter, sweetheart? need'ya to use y'words."

you stare at him for a few moments, whether it's to test his patience or relish in his fond softness you aren't sure. but time passes with his blue eyes locked on your own, in tune with your body and wary of any boundaries he might be inadvertently breaking, and you manage to spit it out. "kiss?" you ask softly, to which he huffs out a laugh.

his lips meet yours in a slow and firm kiss, giving you one, then two more before he separates again. the pad of his thumb traces over your bottom lip, pulling it into a pout. "that wasn't so hard, now, was it baby?" he coos, fingers moving to dig into the soft flesh of your hips. he adjusts you in his lap, makes sure you're comfortable, then one large hand is cradling your head and guiding you back to the crook of his shoulder.

"wasn' bad," you repeat softly. "thank you."

there's a kiss landing against your temple, and his lips move softly against your skin as he murmurs, "just a few more papers. then 'm all yours."

let's have a sleepover at mine | submissions closed

#lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher smut #lip gallagher imagine #lip gallagher x reader smut #❀ written by maggie [fics]#❀ mutuals: olive #🦺 sleepover #shameless

321 notes · View notes

megalony · 7 months

Text

He's Not One Of Us

This is a new Eddie Diaz imagine, requested by anon, I hope you will all like it. I'm loving all the Eddie requests coming through recently and am trying to work my way through them all.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103

Eddie Diaz Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) has a bad feeling about the new recruit. And things go from bad to worse when she's paired with him on a call and ends up getting injured.

Enjoy.

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

A grin overtook (Y/n)'s features and she looked up from the cards she was shuffling to see who was hovering over her and causing a shadow to cast across her eyes.

She watched the way Eddie leaned over until his right hand hovered over her shoulder and clamped down on the back of the sofa. And his left hand held the arm of the sofa, effectively caging her down where she sat so she had no form of escaping him. His knees pressed down into hers and when he tilted his head to the side, a smirk flooded his face and made (Y/n)'s stomach ignite with adrenaline.

"Hm, what're you after?" She continued shuffling the cards, waiting for Evan to come back and play another round. They had just finished lunch and they had a bit of free time to kill, waiting for their next call out.

"A kiss." He responded boldly, quirking his lips up to the side but when he leaned close, (Y/n) ducked her head down so he kissed her temple instead.

She could feel the way he huffed against her temple but kissed her there anyway and she tried not to make a sound. Her eyes focused on the deck of cards she shifted between her fingers but her chest tightened when Eddie's hand left the arm of the chair and moved to cup her chin. He held her chin between his thumb and finger and tilted her head up so they were level again.

"Don't tease me." His words were pleading, but his tone was demanding and (Y/n) couldn't help herself.

"Why not? What're you gonna do, Eddie, punish me?"

She leaned up and pecked his cheek before she pushed back in her seat and sat up straight, adding some distance between them. They were on shift. They were supposed to be curteous and professional and Eddie was making it extremely hard right now.

And (Y/n) knew her husband. He wasn't always touchy-feely when they were on shift together, he liked to try and remain professional and keep the boundaries because of regulations. But he was starting to bend the rules a little more recently instead of it being just (Y/n) who would sneak up on him and steal a kiss from his unknowing lips.

Her eyes widened and she drew in a sharp breath when Eddie moved. His knees moved away from hers until they were pinned into her thighs and he was practically sat down on her lap. But she almost crushed the cards in half when his hands moved to the top of her trousers. Before (Y/n) could say anything, Eddie managed to worm his fingers beneath her waistband and under her shirt that she had tucked into her trousers.

His cold fingers on her skin made her stomach pull in and she took a sharp breath when one of his fingers hooked into her underwear.

"Eddie!" She hissed as she tilted her head to look around. "If someone sees we'll get pulled in Bobby's office."

(Y/n) set the cards down on the seat next to her before she curled her fingers tightly around Eddie's wrist. She wasn't quite strong enough to pull his hand away when he tensed his arms and fought to keep his hands where they were. His lips quirked into a baiting smirk and a devilish look passed across his eyes that seemed to turn three shades darker within the space of a second.

"So gimme a kiss."

His fingertips wedged against her underwear and squeezed her hips until he could see she was barely able to breathe and her eyes kept nervously looking around. Her brother would never let them live this down if he caught them. Bobby would probably stop letting them be on shift together. Chimney would be embarrassed and wouldn't know how to act and she dreaded to think what Hen would do if she saw them in a compromising position like this.

She kept one hand tightly clenched around Eddie's wrist to stop him from getting any more ideas and moving his hand any further into her pants. But her left hand reached up to cup his jaw and her thumb traced his cheekbone as she pushed up to kiss him.

Her lips pressed fiercely into his until he was leaning back from the pressure and she pulled on his bottom lip to part them and swipe her tongue past his lips.

She kissed him until he stole all the air from her lungs and left her feeling lightheaded and on the verge of passing out. When Eddie groaned against her lips, (Y/n) finally pulled back and let her head flop back on the sofa so she was left staring up at his wide grin and hooded eyes.

"That's your lot, now release me." She murmured softly, pushing her knees up to make him take the hint and move.

He looked doubtful, as if he was about to grin and move his hands even further south and (Y/n) wouldn't put it past him. But Eddie obliged, shimmying his hands back out of her trousers and just to wind her up, he dragged her shirt up too. He pulled the bottom of her shirt out of her waistband and pulled a few of the buttons loose in the few spare seconds he had before (Y/n) was hitting his hands to scold him.

"Eddie…" She whined and pushed his hands back towards his own chest and when he finally climbed off her lap and slumped down next to her, she glared playfully at him.

Her hands moved to do up her buttons quickly when she heard Evan coming back over. She did not want her big brother to see her clothes askew and realise what Eddie had been up to. He didn't need that image and she didn't need the torment.

She grabbed the deck of cards Eddie had almost sat on and placed them on his thigh, letting her fingers drag dangerously close to his zipper to see if he would smirk or frown or pull away.

"Your turn to beat my brother at cards. I'm gonna go check the inventory." (Y/n) allowed Eddie one last kiss before she got up and weaved past her brother before Eddie could pin her back down and prevent her from moving.

She would let Eddie take her place in the game of cards, she had been on a winning streak anyway.

And it felt more dangerous to stay close to Eddie when he was in a teasing mood like that. She didn't quite know if he could keep his wandering hands to himself, and as much as she didn't want him to, she didn't want to get caught out either.

(Y/n) headed down the stairs but when she went towards the stock room, she stopped and glanced over towards one of the engines.

The new guy. He had some of the hatches open on the truck and a clipboard in his hands. He was doing an inventory check.

"Do you need me to grab anything out of inventory for you?" She stuffed her hands into her pockets and walked over towards him with a kind smile. Her eyes danced across the hatches to see what was in the truck and see if anything needed restocking.

There was something about the new guy that seemed a little… off. He wasn't like the other newbies they got here. He wasn't trying to intergrate himself into the team and become one of them right away. He wasn't sucking up to anyone or trying to cause trouble and he wasn't exactly getting stuck in.

Blake did whatever he was told, but he seemed to want to be told how to do everything. It was as if he needed clear instructions for every little call out they had. Eddie had to tell him yesterday to bandage a woman's hand when she had suffered a burn. He just stood looking at her hand like it was a miracle and he didn't know how to treat it.

"Um… I can't find any of these in here."

(Y/n) leaned down to see what he was pointing at on the clipboard but she rolled her lips together when she looked at the top of the page.

She moved her hands towards the clipboard, silently asking if she could take it and when he handed it over, she took the sheet of paper off. (Y/n) swapped it for the page behind it and slowly pointed at the writing on the top of the page.

"That was the ambulance inventory, you need to be checking this one, for the engine."

He had been on the inventory that they stocked in the ambulance. It was an honest mistake, he clearly hadn't looked at the top of the page. But he should have figured something wasn't right. No fire house tended to stock their fire engines with stethoscopes, bandages, gauze and saline bags.

When he looked over the page but didn't say anything, (Y/n) took a peek inside and turned around.

By the time she went into the inventory room, grabbed two new CO2 extinguishers and came back to the truck, Blake had moved all of two steps. He seemed to have ticked a few things on the list and he was at least looking through what was in the truck now which was a start.

"Can you get the old CO2 tank out and check it please? I'm pretty sure it was almost empty when we used it this morning."

(Y/n) busied herself slotting the two new tanks into place and clipping them in so they wouldn't roll around in the hatch. But when she looked over at Blake, her brows furrowed and she sank her teeth down into her lower lip. What was he doing?

"These sure are different to the ones I'm used to… does it usually stick this much?"

Where had he come from to deal with different fire extinguishers? Most of them were exactly the same, only the size of the cannisters changed. They all operated the same way so everyone could use them.

But when (Y/n) leaned over to see what he was trying to do, her stomach flooded with adrenaline and she reached around him.

"No… you have to take the pin out, see?" She removed the safety pin and when he pressed the metal release clasps together, the last drop of CO2 burst out the nozzle.

Was he trying to wind her up? Was this a joke that (Y/n) didn't find funny?

He should have been shown how to use the cannister in his basic training back at the academy. No one got past the first stage if they couldn't operate a hose or a cannister for a basic fire emergency test. Blake must be winding (Y/n) up and she just didn't see the funny side. But he looked so serious, even as he walked away to dispose of the cannister.

Something was strange about him.

***

"Okay, Eddie, Buck you two go to the first floor and try to put out as much of that fire as you can. Hen tend to the workers, Chim you and me will take the ground floor. And (Y/n), take Blake with you up to the second floor. That fire is everywhere and it needs to be out. Go."

A shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when Bobby's voice rung out through the air, over the smoke consuming the midnight sky.

Why did she have to take Blake? Why couldn't Bobby keep the new guy with him and show him the ropes and keep an eye on him?

(Y/n) had a bad feeling about Blake. There was just something that wasn't right about him and she didn't know why, but he made her nervous. She didn't want to be the one to get paired up with him. He was going to slow her down and that was the last thing they needed when this warehouse was consumed in fire and needed putting out before the whole structure collapsed.

But she couldn't go against orders and she had no specific reason not to trust Blake. She couldn't signal him out and risk creating waves in the team and getting reprimanded for not being a team player.

With her gloves, overcoat and helmet secured, (Y/n) turned to Eddie who was stood on her right. She knew he could see the apprehension in her eyes, but she tried to smile. The last thing she wanted to do was worry him right now.

"All good?"

"All good. See you soon." She nodded and her smile felt more relaxed when Eddie curved an arm around her waist and leaned down to press a kiss to her cheek. He muttered a few choice words in her ear, gave her a squeeze, then pulled away to find his own helmet and overcoat.

The hose wouldn't stretch through the lobby, up both stairwells and across the second floor. So (Y/n) found an extinguisher and when Blake followed her lead, she headed inside after her husband and brother. The boys parted onto the first floor and Evan grinned back at his sister before she and Blake hurried up to the next level.

Most of the workers had gone home before the fire and the few who were left had managed to get out. The 236 station had started an evacuation and almost everyone was accounted for now. Their job was to put the fires out, that was their main focus and if they saw anyone along the way, they had to get them out.

Heading out into the corridor, (Y/n) opened one of the doors on her right and shone her torch around.

"Try and turn the sprinkler system on, will you?"

"Sure."

When Blake nodded, (Y/n) walked further into the room and started putting out the small fires. The main flames were out in the corridor which would be a big issue to cover.

(Y/n) finished putting out the fires and headed across into the next room while Blake started following the sprinkler system built into the ceiling to try and see if there was another lever somewhere he could wrench into working. It took him out into the corridor while (Y/n) focused on making sure each room was evacuated and clear.

"Alright guys, how we looking up there? Building manager says all personel have been accounted for except for a secretary in the East end of the second floor. (Y/n), Blake, can you find your way there?" Bobby's voice came through the speaker and made (Y/n) feel a little better. One last person to get out, then the fire was the primary focus. This wasn't going to be such a rushed job.

Just as she headed back out into the corridor, her eyes widened and her heart jumped up into her chest when a soaring wave of vibrant orange and blood red crimson surged her way.

(Y/n) backed up as a consuming wave of heat overwhelmed her body and flames sparked down the corridor. If fire could have moved and imitated a wave, (Y/n) swore she had seen a tsunami of fire engulf the corridor. The shock and extreme power sent her down to the floor with a thud and she cringed when the floorboards creaked. This floor was unsteady as it was without her being thrown about the room.

Pushing up to her knees, (Y/n) took a few steady breaths and looked down at herself, making sure she was truly alright before she got up and tried to head out into the corridor. Her eyes locked on Blake who was on the other side of the corridor in the doorway to an office. They both looked up at the ceiling and (Y/n) felt like she could cry when she realised there had to be a gas leak.

One of the pipes above them was sizzling and the flames were soaring up towards the roof. The warehouse was going to go up in flames if the gas wasn't turned off.

"What was that? (Y/n) you okay?" Eddie's voice carried through the radio and made (Y/n) smile.

"I- we're good… Cap we have a gas leak up here, someone needs to turn the gas off now. This corridor is blocked, we can't get through to the East side."

"Fully blocked?"

"Yep… we could go up to the roof though, a rope rescue is our best bet." (Y/n) had done a few rope rescues in her time. It would be much easier to go to the roof and lower down the side of the building and into one of the offices on the East side. They could get the woman out safely that way.

They couldn't push their way through the flames, they didn't have enough extinguishers to make it all that way and then bring the woman safely back again.

"Do it."

"Be careful!" Both Eddie and Evan spoke at the same time and (Y/n) grinned at the sound of her boy's voices. Her husband and brother, always the worriers. Her protectors.

(Y/n) wasn't sure which room Blake found the rope in, but she was glad he tossed it over his shoulder and grinned. He led the way back towards the stairwell and they started their ascent up towards the roof. It saved them needing to go down to the truck and then climb all the way back up the stairs again.

It didn't feel stable on the roof, but if they were careful and quick the floor felt sturdy enough to hold them for a few minutes, at least. They kept their steps light and their weight evenly spread out as they trailed across to the East side of the building.

The pair of them leaned over the edge and looked down. There was at least three windows that they could smash into on the second floor to find a way to get the secretary out.

"I can go down." (Y/n) watched Blake look around, somewhat nervously, but he smiled and nodded. She thought it might he easier if she went down on the rope. Something told her Blake wasn't the best person to go looking for their victim inside.

Reaching down, she grabbed one end of the rope and threaded it around her waist and looped it as tight as she could so it didn't move an inch below her hips.

"Can you secure it to the chimney for me?" Blake grabbed the other end before she finished speaking and she turned to look back down while he tied it off.

This was exactly like her training at the academy. At least this time, no one would be stood at the bottom waiting for her to fall or make a mistake and timing how long it took her to complete her absail down. And if she had Blake up top to watch, at least he could keep the rope secure and he could then be the eyes and ears when it came to getting their victim out.

"Okay, I- I guess I'll keep watch from up here."

"Okay." (Y/n) tried to smile, but the way Blake was nervously rubbing his gloved hands together made her uneasy.

She held tight to the rope with one hand and used her other hand to lean on the ledge and ease herself over. Her boots pressed up against the brick wall and with a deep breath, (Y/n) slowly threaded the rope through her hand and started her descent down. She only had to go six or seven feet down to reach the window and then she could use her feet and momentum to break the window and get inside. The only problem would be finding where the secretary was.

A jolt surged through (Y/n)'s stomach that felt like it had pushed up into her chest when she juttered down a bit too quickly. Her fist clenched around the rope and she tilted her head back as harsh breaths escaped her lips.

"Blake?" She looked up at him but he just gave her a thumbs up. She was fine.

Her eyes trailed back down to the wall and she tried to keep moving down, but when the rope jolted and she lowered down a bit too quickly, she looked up again. Blake had gone. He wasn't leaning over watching her descent anymore.

When the rope gave way for a third time, (Y/n) held her breath but her lips parted and a scream tumbled past her lips when she felt gravity hold onto her. It was as if invisible hands had suddenly grabbed her waist and started to pull.

(Y/n) had never fallen off of anything before. She had never fallen during an absail, not during her training or in a real life emergency like this.

She could see the rope falling down and grating against the ledge of the roof and the wind whipped against the back of her neck and scraped along her arms as her body tilted backwards and she surged down through the air. All the air left her lungs in a horrid, banshee scream and her eyes snapped closed as her arms pulled up and pinned against her chest.

(Y/n) knew she needed to turn. She should fall on her side to save the risk of damaging her spine or paralysing herself, bit she didn't have the time. Within seconds, all her air was gone and her body no longer felt like it was falling through space and time.

She landed on the tarmac with a horrid thud that shook the pavement and sent her body reeling.

Stars danced behind her eyelids. Horrid shockwaves rattled through the back of her head that was pulsing and igniting in pain and her lungs stopped working. They shuddered in her chest as her lips parted but she couldn't breathe. Her chest had been shocked and her system wasn't working properly.

It took a few agonising seconds for (Y/n) to get her lungs back into working order and she finally sucked in a ragged, gasping breath that made her back pulse and spark and her body jolted and thrashed on the floor.

Her arms that were both pinned to her chest started to shake and she barely felt her right hand move to clench around the radio pinned to her shoulder.

All she could do was scream. No words formulated on her tongue and her eyes wouldn't open. She couldn't move, speak or even breathe properly. All the air (Y/n) sucked in went straight back out into a horrible howl that shook the foundations of the warehouse in front of her.

"(Y/n)?!"

"(Y/n)? Baby what's the matter? What's happened? Baby talk to me!" Terror ransacked Eddie's body and he dropped the CO2 tank in his hand to grab his radio.

Why was she screaming? Why was his wife screaming through the radio frequency? What had she done? She was supposed to be on the rope going down into the second floor. How had she suddenly hurt herself and ended up screaming in agony in Eddie's ears?

"Baby talk to me!" Eddie's eyes darted over to look at Evan before he stared down at his feet and willed his wife to talk. They couldn't help if they didn't know what was going on, where she was or what she had been doing.

When the word "Fell." burst past (Y/n)'s lips in a horrid, bubbling cry, Eddie looked over at Evan. How had she fallen? She should have been tied to a rope, that was the whole point.

Both men took off into a sprint when another cry tore through the radio and made them flinch. The first floor was clear of all fires now, they had gone round putting them out and there was no gas leak on this floor either which was good. They had the chance to bolt down the stairs and through the main floor of the warehouse until they burst through the front doors and looked around.

"Eddie…"

"I'm coming baby, I'm here, I'm here!"

Eddie tore off his helmet, gloves and jacket when his eyes landed on his wife. He sprinted across the pavement while he felt like his heart was trying to break free from his chest to get to her.

He didn't give Evan the chance to kneel down before he grabbed his jacket and gave him a shove in the other direction.

"Get me a medic bag and a back board. Now!" When Evan took off in a sprint, Eddie crashed down to his knees beside (Y/n) who was still screaming with any breaths she could suck in. "Baby… baby it's me. Shh, shh let me look at you, it's alright baby girl."

His hands cupped her face and his thumbs swiped across her cheeks, brushing away some of the tears that were streaking through the soot and dirt clinging to her face. He hated to see her lips curved down and hear the way she cried and clawed for breath.

It was hard to stop his finger from trembling as they tore at her jacket and pushed it off to the sides so he could assess her.

He tried to feel around her neck, down her shoulders and he moved her arms so they were resting at her sides rather than across her chest. When his fingers curled around her left shoulder, (Y/n) saw streaks of white flash across her eyes and she writhed against the floor, choking on a scream.

"Shh… it's broken baby." Eddie moved her left arm so it was back across her chest and tried to keep the joint stiff and in place. Her shoulder had definitely broken and the bone could have shattered for all he knew.

"Here." Evan placed the bag down next to Eddie and left the back board nearby while he knelt down on (Y/n)'s other side.

He reached down to take her right hand in his and started gliding his fingers up and down her arm to try and keep her settled.

"Wiggle your toes for me, good girl." Eddie felt down her legs and slipped his fingers beneath the cuff of her boots to feel her ankles. They didn't feel broken, but he couldn't be sure. He was relieved when (Y/n) bent both her feet back and forth. That proved she didn't have any nerve damage or paralysis and she didn't scream in agony which made him hopeful she didn't have any lasting or serious damage in her legs.

He took the stethoscope out the bag and listened to her heart and then her lungs which all sounded good.

He undid the rope around her waist, throwing it out the way before his fingers pressed beneath her armpits and worked down her sides to check her ribs and her pelvis.

"A few broken ribs, but pelvis is in tact…" Eddie moved his hands to the back of (Y/n)'s head and moved his fingers through her hair. "Small cut to the back of the head."

"Cap, (Y/n)'s had an accident, she's got a lot of trauma we have to take her to the hospital now." Evan kept hold of her hand while he spoke into the radio. Everyone knew she had had a fall, they all heard her screams through the radio. But they had to transfer her to the hospital now and get her seen to.

He looked down at (Y/n) when she let go of his hand and her trembling fingers reached out for Eddie instead. She pinched his hand so tightly he hissed at her sharp nails digging into his skin.

"What is it, baby?"

He didn't know what she was trying to do or tell him until she pressed his hand to her abdomen while her chest shuddered back and forth and spit rolled past her lips. "B-burns… bad."

Eddie's brows furrowed and he carefully untucked her shirt from her trousers and wrenched it up towards her bra. She couldn't have gotten burns on her chest, she was wearing her protective gear and she didn't say anything on the radio about being caught in one of the fires. But when he pressed his fingertips just above her belly button and then around to the sides, she moaned through a sob and began to cough.

"Either internal bleeding or something's ruptured… okay baby, shh it's alright. I'm gonna give you some morphine, then we'll get you to the hospital."

He found a pre-packaged needle in the medic bag and injected the morphine into (Y/n)'s thigh. It wouldn't do much but it would hopefully take the edge off and calm her down until they could get her sedated at the hospital.

"Up on three… one, two, three."

The pair of them tried to be as careful as possible when they eased (Y/n) onto the backboard but they couldn't move her painlessly. Her scream vibrated through the pair of them but they tried to shake it off and move towards the ambulance just as the rest of the team came out the building.

The other station would have to deal with putting out the last of the fires and finish getting that last victim out the building. They had one of their own critically injured and out of action. (Y/n) had to come first.

"I've got you, you're gonna be fine sweet girl, don't worry." Eddie reached down for her hand the moment they had her in the back of the ambulance. He pulled her hand into his chest and kissed her knuckles as Evan climbed in the back with them and shut the doors.

They had to go.

***

Evan pushed off the wall when the waiting room doors opened and Maddie burst through. His big sister ran into the small, secluded room just down the hall from the operating theatre she had been directed to when she got here.

It had been a fright to finish her shift and have Evan call her. Their little sister had been involved in some kind of accident, and now the whole team were waiting at the hospital for any news while she was taken for surgery.

"What happened?" Her arms enveloped around Evan and she leaned her chin up on his shoulder when he bent down to hug her properly. He may be the middle child, but he was by far the tallest out of them all.

She darted her eyes around the team. Hen and Chimney were sat with cups of coffee in their hands, half asleep, half engaged in conversation. Eddie was sat on the other side of the room, hands clasped together with his knees spread wide and his head hung down between his knees. And the new guy who Maddie had yet to meet, was sat near the window with his feet tapping out a tune against the tiles.

"A rope rescue went wrong… s-she fell, we don't know how." Evan kept his arm curled around Maddie before he glanced over at Eddie.

His brother in law had barely spoken since (Y/n) left for X-rays and an MRI and when the doctor told them she was in surgery, it seemed to wash right over Eddie's head.

"Broken shoulder. Six broken ribs, concussion and her intestine ruptured… so she's in surgery to repair it." Eddie's lips stayed pressed against his fingers and his words came out partially muffled, but he knew Maddie had heard him alright.

They were lucky (Y/n) didn't break her neck or her spine with the way she fell and how she landed. But a ruptured intestine was worse than Eddie had been expecting and he wasn't happy. Why had his wife fallen? How had it gone so wrong? It wasn't as if she hadn't done this before, they all had their training and knew what to do. Why did she have to get hurt tonight?

"I'm gonna call Carla, check on Chris."

Eddie pushed up and walked out the waiting room. He didn't want to sit with the team in silence like this. He didn't like it. It was slowly killing him. He needed to see how Chris was doing and make sure he was alright and he had to update Carla on what was happening. It had been bad enough that he had to call her and beg for her to keep Chris with her for the night so Eddie could stay and wait for any updates on (Y/n).

He fished his phone out his pocket and wandered down the hall, turning the corner and jogging down the stairs. But he barely got outside into the fresh air before his eyes locked on Bobby sat down on a bench a few feet away.

The Captain had come outside to make a few calls. He had to know the B shift at the station were coping alright and he had to inform the chief that an accident had happened and injured one of the team. It was even worse that they didn't know how or why this had happened.

Eddie's finger hovered over Carla's contact in his phone, but he stopped when he heard Bobby begin to speak.

"You're sure? Well how the Hell did that happen?"

That didn't sound good. Bobby had his stern voice and a hand on his hip; sure signs that his conversation wasn't about anything good.

"Explain to me how he got the transfer papers and the credentials to get himself on my team if he's had no training and not even passed through the academy?!"

What was he talking about?

Adrenaline pooled in Eddie's stomach and surged up through to his chest when he thought about the only person on the team who had recently been transferred, and who seemed rather clueless.

Blake.

Had he not had any training? How had he not gone through any training? How did he get into the fire station and get the papers to transfer to them if he didn't have any training and didn't pass the academy? That wasn't possible. Everyone was vetted before they got an interview for any station and Bobby wasn't a fool.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Eddie turned around and headed back inside.

It felt as if he had tunnel vision, narrowing more and more until all he could see were the stairs ahead of him that would lead back up to the waiting room where the team were. He had to find out what was going on. He had to know if (Y/n)'s fall had anything to do with Blake and if the new recruit was even a recruit at all. Eddie had to know if he really had no training and if he was with them under false pretenses.

Because if he was and this was all true, then he had just risked (Y/n)'s life.

By the time he got into the waiting room, his breathing had turned shallow and his hands were balled into fists at his sides. The only thing he could see was Blake. That scrawny, strange new recruit who was sat with his back up straight and his hands on his knees while his feet tapped against the floor. From a distance, he really looked like he belonged with them, as if he was truly a colleague worried about a friend's welfare.

"That was quick-"

Panic surged through the room when Eddie pushed past Hen and made a beeline for Blake.

As soon as his hands scrunched up in Blake's shirt, Eddie ripped him up from his seat and launched him to the other side of the room. He pushed Blake back until his back and shoulders were pinned up against the wall and his feet were barely touching the floor. Eddie's right arm pressed across his collar bone, digging into the base of his neck making it harder for him to catch a proper breath. Just like (Y/n) had struggled when she fell.

"What did you do to that rope?"

"Eddie what the Hell are you doing?! Get off him." Evan tried to grab Eddie by the shoulders, but he swung his left arm out to push Evan back and bashed his shoulder back to get him off.

"Wow, Eddie calm down-"

"What did you do to it?!"

"I- I don't know." Those three little words infuriated Eddie and he smashed Blake's head back against the wall to try and make him remember what he'd done. He must know something. He must know what he had done wrong up there because (Y/n) was a trained professional. She wouldn't fall for no reason, something had happened to her on that roof.

"Eddie enough!"

Blake slumped down against the wall when Eddie was wrenched off of him and both Hen and Evan tried to hold him at bay. He couldn't just attack one of the team like that. He had to tell them what was going on.

"He's not one of us." He spat the words as if they were vile poison on his tongue and he could feel the sweat rolling down the back of his neck. Eddie could see the panic in Blake's eyes and it made him laugh. A cynical, crooked laugh tore past his lips and he leaned his head back to look up at the ceiling.

"What does that mean?"

"You think Cap hasn't found out by now? He knows you don't have any training. You didn't pass the academy, and yet you're here. So I'll ask again. What did you do to that rope?" Eddie flashed his teeth in a sharp, sideways smirk that had Blake quaking at the knees and his round eyes looked around everyone as if asking for help.

They all wanted an explanation. Everyone wanted to know what was going on and how one of them could go two weeks on the job without any training or qualifications and not get caught out.

"I- I tied it up! S-she asked me to tie it, a-and I thought I did, but I didn't know how it was supposed to go… and she… when she pulled on it, it just came loose. I swear it was an accident!"

He meant no harm.

When (Y/n) asked him to tie the rope, Blake tried his best. But he didn't know how to do a rope rescue, he didn't know how to tie it or which knot to use or how much rope to thread around the chimney to secure it. And when (Y/n) started to thread it through her hands and lower herself down, it came loose.

He tried to grab it but the rope slipped through his gloved hands before he could hold onto it and when he looked down, (Y/n) was already on the floor, screaming through the radio.

It was an accident. Blake never meant to hurt her. He wormed his way into the station because he was desperate to help people, it was all he wanted to do. He didn't care if he didn't know the ways to help, the team had been showing him and he thought that was enough.

He doubled forward with a gasp when Eddie's knee rammed into his stomach. And he cried out when Eddie grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him into the closest chair, watching him crumble to the floor like a piece of paper.

A roaring scream left Eddie's lips when Evan and Chimney threw themselves on top of him and pinned him to the floor.

He bashed his elbows into their sides, scraped his boots against the polished floor and pushed up onto his knees until both men were pinning his arms behind his back like he was under arrest.

"You could have killed my wife! She could have broken her neck because of you. She's in surgery and you think I give a shit whether you tried or not?" Blake could give Eddie all the apologies and sorrows in the world. It would never be enough. Eddie didn't care for apologies when Blake knew what he was doing.

He knew being here without training could put someone in harm's way or potentially kill someone and he did it anyway. And now it was Eddie's wife that was in danger.

"I didn't know-"

"If anything else happens to (Y/n), I will murder you." His words weren't a threat, they were a promise.

If (Y/n) suffered any further complications because of her injuries or God forbid, she died, Eddie wouldn't hesitate. He would find any weapon he could lay his hands on and make Blake pay for this. He wasn't going to let him get away with what he had done tonight.

Every part of Eddie began shaking as he reached for the closest chair and launched it across the room. He held his hands up when Hen and Maddie both stepped in front of him and his eyes just dared one of them to do or say something to let him explode.

"You want some advice?" Evan turned to look at Blake who was slumped on the floor, arms bound around his chest and tears flushing his face. When Blake nodded, Evan crouched down to be level with him and stared into his broken eyes. "Run."

Blake needed no more words than that to scramble onto shaking legs and stumble out of the room.

The 118 was a family. Eddie was (Y/n)’s husband. Evan and Maddie were her older, protective siblings. Hen was like another sister to her and Bobby was a surrogate father to her. None of them would stand for someone walking in and hurting her like this and they weren't going to be kind to Blake after the stunts he had pulled.

He needed to leave before someone hurt him.

As soon as he was out of the room, Eddie tangled both his hands together behind his head and tried to take big, deep breaths. He paced up and down the length of the room while everyone else tried to put the chairs back in order and sit down again.

But he turned to face the door when it opened. He was ready to lash out but he stopped himself when he saw the doctor. Her eyes flitted about the room, clearly knowing something had happened but she didn't dare approach the subject.

"(Y/n) Diaz?"

"Is she alright?"

"Surgery went well, her shoulder is back in place and we've repaired the rupture to her intestine, there should be no lasting damage. You can see her now."

Eddie stormed out the room before the doctor had chance to tell him which room (Y/n) was in. He headed down the hall and slowed down just enough for her to catch him up and direct him to the right room on the left.

He could feel his heart breaking all over again when his eyes locked on his wife. He couldn't quite get the image of her crumpled up on the floor out of his mind. But Eddie wasn't so sure that this image was any better. (Y/n) laid up in a hospital bed, her left arm pinned to her chest in a sling with tape and bandages rolled around her shoulder. An oxygen tube stuck beneath her nose, monitoring wires and stickers beneath her gown. IV canula taped into the back of her right hand.

And he dreaded to think what her abdomen would look like beneath the gown or how the cut looked on the back of her head or how much blood she had lost tonight.

He barely heard the doctor close the door before he moved to sit down on the edge of the bed and lean over. His hands delicately cupped either side of (Y/n)'s face and he pressed a careful kiss to her chapped lips.

"There's my girl. Hey, mi amor." He let his temple rest lightly on hers and he managed to smile when he felt (Y/n)'s hand curl around his wrist.

"I'm sorry."

"Hm, sorry for what baby? You got hurt, you don't have anything to be sorry for." Eddie brushed his thumb across her cheek and pressed another tender kiss to her lips when he felt her hand tighten around his wrist. She had suffered a bad accident, but that was no reason for (Y/n) to be apologising. She hadn't done anything wrong.

"I- I fell… did I… did I do something wrong, with the rope?" Panic burned in (Y/n)'s voice and she could feel her eyes welling up with tears. She'd never had a big accident at work before.

"No, no baby girl you didn't do anything wrong, I swear. I'll explain later, but nothing is your fault. You hear me?"

Eddie wouldn't have (Y/n) believing she had done something wrong when it was someone else who had put her life in danger. Blake had hurt her, badly. He had caused her damage that could well have been irreversable or even fatal. Eddie was lucky to have his wife safe and alive in his arms and he wouldn't have her getting frightened or upset because she thought she hadn't done her job correctly.

The only person at fault was the new recruit, and he wasn't getting away with this.

#eddie diaz x reader #imagine #911 imagine #eddie diaz imagine #eddie x reader #eddie diaz

514 notes · View notes

swiftiethatlovesf1 · 15 days

Text

Love strategy p.2

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy part 2, here's part 1 if you've missed it :)

With your plan set in motion, you and Lando meet up to finalize the details of your fake relationship. The two of you sit in a quiet corner of a café, huddled over your drinks, hashing out the rules. You lean forward, fingers tapping nervously against your cup.

"Okay, if we're really doing this, we can’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say firmly, setting the first boundary. Lando scoffs, leaning back in his chair, looking offended. “Who would I tell?” he asks indignantly, his face scrunched in mock insult.

You give him a long, pointed look. He blinks. "Okay, okay, fine!" he relents. "Second rule: no getting involved with anyone else. That would just make things messy."

"As if I’d do something so stupid," you shoot back, rolling your eyes. "Alright, third rule: no kissing."

Lando’s expression shifts, a playful glint sparking in his eyes. "No kissing? How are we supposed to make this look real?" he teases, leaning in closer. "Come on, kisses aren’t that big of a deal."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a big deal? You're seriously underestimating—"

Before you can finish, Lando’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and suddenly his lips are on yours. It’s soft at first, almost like he’s testing the waters, but then he deepens the kiss, his thumb brushing against your jawline in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

You freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. This was not in the plan. But the heat of the kiss, the way his touch makes your skin tingle, it’s impossible to resist. Without thinking, you find yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping his shirt to steady yourself.

When he pulls away, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face. "See?" he says, voice low and a little breathless. "Not so bad, is it?"

You stare at Lando for a long moment, still reeling from the kiss, but slowly coming back to the task at hand. "Alright," you say finally, though your voice is softer now. "Kisses… only when necessary. We're trying to sell this, after all."

Lando’s grin widens, clearly pleased with himself. "Necessary, huh? I can work with that."

You roll your eyes, but there's a small smile playing on your lips. "Anyway, we should post a picture together, somewhere casual. That way, when we 'come out' as a couple, it won’t look too sudden. People will have seen us together before."

Lando nods, the wheels clearly turning in his mind. "Smart. It’ll make everything look more natural."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief as the plan starts to take shape. But before you can dwell on it for too long, Lando leans in again, his tone casual but deliberate. "Speaking of tomorrow, you should fly with me instead of Carlos. It’ll help sell the whole thing."

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback. "Fly with you? That would be… weird. People will notice, and I’ve always flown with Carlos."

"Exactly," Lando says, his voice dropping to that mischievous tone again. "That’s the point. It’ll get people talking. That’s what we want, right?"

You hesitate, biting your lip. He’s right. But it feels strange, going from your usual routine with Carlos to something more calculated with Lando. "I don’t know," you murmur, your mind racing. "It just feels like—"

"Weird?" Lando finishes for you, a knowing look in his eyes. "It’s supposed to. But trust me, it’ll work."

You sigh, knowing he’s right, but still feeling conflicted. "Fine. I’ll text Carlos about it."

With a slight sense of unease, you pull out your phone and shoot Carlos a quick message:

Hey, I won’t be flying with you tomorrow. Going with someone else.

It doesn’t take long for him to respond:

Alright. Cool, no worries.

The shortness of the reply catches you off guard, leaving a strange feeling in your chest. You had expected at least a hint of curiosity, maybe a question, but instead, Carlos doesn’t seem to care at all. You stare at the screen, feeling a twinge of sadness that you hadn’t anticipated.

You blink back the unexpected disappointment, trying to shake it off, but the feeling lingers. Lando notices the shift in your expression and raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, slipping your phone back into your pocket. "Just… Carlos doesn’t really care."

Lando frowns slightly, his gaze softening. "You sure you’re okay with all of this?"

You force a smile, pushing down the sadness. "Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just weird, that’s all."

Lando watches you for a moment longer, but then nods, his tone gentle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I care."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Thanks, Norris. That helps… a little."

He grins. "Good. Now, let’s figure out what else we're doing because we’ve got to look convincing."

Here's part 3

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya

#f1 #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris x y/n #lando imagine #carlos sainz x you #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz imagine

233 notes · View notes

n0tamused · 5 months

Note

Can i request a drabble with Newbie Assistant reader! x jing yuan? I've been thinking (daydreaming) abt this for a while with my delulu brain. From what qingzu says, he prefers everyone adress him as jing yuan. And not full title.

Where reader is his wife and he can't go 1 minute without hugging her and worst part, she works at the seat of divine foresight and everyone at the seat has to witness his love sick behavior. I imagine especially fu xuan will be pissed like 'get to work, general!'

Honestly just a food for thought u don't have to take this srsly. Luv u, byeee <33

A/n: Anon you got my gears turning with this food and you have successfully dragged me out of the hole of writer's block. Thank you for that and I really hope you enjoy this little drabble I made, specifically for the second prompt! Man I love this man I wanna eat him. Just imagine him with a wife that's also on the strict side and just knows to get him back to his work but he just wants another kiss before he lets her leave his embrace-

Content: female reader, fluff, drabble

Big arms find their place around her waist and before she can pluck them off, Jing Yuan has slotted himself against her back. His chin rested on top of her shoulder and his golden eyes sluggish dragged their gaze over the documents his lovely wife was working on sorting out. A signature smile remained plastered over his lips even when he felt the scolding words bubble in your throat.

He never shared her shyness, as he called it, in the workplace. It was nothing that could damage either of their reputation, a little bit of hugging and a few cheek kisses here and there - if anything, he held firm belief that more warm displays of affection could even make the workplace be less stagnant. Why does everyone have to be so stiff? Jing Yuan knew to not cross any boundaries that could make his affections be perceived as something odd or even bad. But in an empty office, like the state it was in now, where no one paid them any mind, he really couldn’t help but pounce at the opportunity.

“Have you finished your paperwork so soon today, General?” she’d bite at him with her words, fully familiar with his tendencies to neglect the piling papers on his desk.

“Certainly. For today I have done the amount my hands could endure” Jing Yuan responded with a peck to the side of her exposed neck, smiling into her skin when he smelled some of his soap there. She smelled so warm, so relaxing, and it made him squeeze her in his arms just a little more. He heard his love exhale at his squeeze, and despite the facade she tried to keep on, he could see traces of a smile on her pretty lips when he lifted his gaze. “And what did we say about name calling? I’m Jing Yuan to you, your white lion, your husband, am I not?” He playfully nips at her ear, his warm breath fanning across her skin and making her hairs stand on their ends. “Or have you decided to take back your vows all of a sudden?” That gains a reaction out of you, a huff of a chuckle flying past your mouth at the absurd way he delivered that question. He sounded so serious about it, offended even, making her shift in his embrace.

“Jing Yuan-”

“You just keep gaining more beauty, my love, do you know?”

A long sigh and her shaking her head tell him enough, and he smiles when he sees her smile. “Don’t try to weasel your way out of this. Unhand me now, my dearest husband-” she says it as if she hates it, swatting at his hands until their grip falters. She could swat at them all she wanted but she knew that getting him off of her in this instant would be like trying to separate a nail from the flesh. “You may have done what you think is all for today, but I have more work to get to.. Tell you what..” her eyes finally grace him with the attention of her gaze and he feels like kissing her again, but he refrains as to hear her out. “If you tend to all those papers I’ll pamper your scoundrel self once we are back home, hm? If you don’t, well you can expect the cold shoulder and the couch as your bedroom until it gets done”

“You are too cruel to me, my dear, you hurt me so..” he feigns offense, all while he leans in and litters her cheek with feather kisses before he finally gets to her lips. One of his hands had snuck its way up and held her other cheek in its palm, tilting her head towards him as he pressed his lips against hers.

"You know I must resort to rougher measures when you're slacking off-" "Shhh.." he hushes her and places another kiss to her mouth.

Safe to say, that paperwork did get done later. And Jing Yuan got to enjoy a really touchy afternoon with you in his arms.

#jing yuan #jing yuan x reader #jing yuan x you #jing yuan x female reader #female reader #jing yuan x yn #jing yuan imagine #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail imagine #hsr x reader #-dragon.treasure #imagine #fluff #fluff drabble #honkai star rail fluff

356 notes · View notes

pedroscowgirl · 1 month

Text

love beyond boundaries

hugh jackman x afab!reader

masterlist (part 1,2 & 3 are here)

warnings: smut! minors, dni!

pregnancy/babytalk , a little angst(no bad stuff), breeding kink, age gap (reader is in her twenties, hugh is 55), creampie , p in v (wrap it up ironic use here) uh lmk if i forgot something

summary: you and hugh visit blake , ryan and their kids but what if it hits you that his kids need to know about your relationship aswell?

Words: 9.6k

a/n: we're gonna pretend like blake is a good person here lol but if you don't like baby/breeding stuff pls feel free to skip this chapter <3

also, i didn't really proofread this because it's 6 am here (I feel like I could've written this better😭)

On one particular afternoon, you all gathered at Ryan and Blake's home for a casual get-together. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over the backyard where the children were playing. Their laughter filled the air, a joyful symphony that made the day feel perfect. You and Blake joined in the fun, running around with the kids, your hearts light and your spirits high. Blake was a natural with the children, and you found yourself drawn into the carefree energy of the moment, the simple pleasure of play.

As you were chasing after one of the little ones, you noticed Ryan and Hugh standing off to the side, their heads close together in quiet conversation. At first, you didn't think much of it, assuming they were just catching up on something. But as you glanced over again, you caught sight of the serious expression on Ryan's face, and the way Hugh's smile seemed to falter as he listened to whatever Ryan was saying.

Ryan had pulled Hugh aside, away from the playful chaos of the backyard, and there was a gravity in his posture that hadn’t been there earlier. Ryan had always been the more easygoing of the two, but in that moment, his demeanor was different,more somber, as if he had been carrying something heavy on his mind for a while and had finally decided it was time to speak up.

"Hey man," Ryan started, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation, "I love that you're happy. I really do." His words were sincere, but there was a note of concern that made Hugh's expression shift. The relaxed, contented look that had been on Hugh's face throughout the day began to fade, replaced by a more serious, almost guarded, expression. He knew Ryan well enough to sense that something important was coming.

Ryan took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto Hugh’s as he continued, "But... don’t you think she’s a little too young for you?" There it was—the question that had been lingering unspoken, the one Ryan had clearly been wrestling with for some time. "I mean, I love you, man, but this... this just doesn’t seem like you. What happened to you liking older women? You know, women who are closer to your age?"

Hugh’s expression tightened, his eyes narrowing slightly as he listened. Ryan wasn’t finished, though. He was trying to be as gentle as possible, but he couldn’t hide his worry. "She's in the same age range as your kids, Hugh. I know you're in love, and I can see that she makes you happy, but I just can't help but wonder if you've really thought this through."

The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the weight of Ryan's concern. It was clear that this conversation wasn’t just a passing thought for him—it was something he genuinely felt needed to be addressed, out of love and friendship. Hugh remained silent for a moment, his gaze dropping to the ground as he absorbed what Ryan was saying. He had known this might come up eventually, but hearing it from Ryan, his close friend, made it all the more real.

Ryan’s tone wasn’t accusatory, nor was it judgmental. It was filled with the kind of care that only a true friend could offer, someone who wasn’t afraid to ask the difficult questions because they cared too much not to. He wasn’t trying to undermine Hugh’s happiness; he was just trying to make sure that his friend was okay, that this relationship was truly what Hugh wanted and needed.

Hugh finally looked up, meeting Ryan’s gaze with a serious look of his own. The easy going atmosphere of the afternoon seemed a world away now, as the two men stood there, the sound of the children's laughter in the background contrasting sharply with the weight of their conversation. Hugh opened his mouth to respond, but for a moment, no words came out. He was thinking, considering everything that had been said. He knew Ryan was coming from a place of love, but that didn’t make the question any easier to answer.

The pause stretched on, and when Hugh finally spoke, his voice was calm but firm. "I hear you, Ryan. I get what you’re saying, and I appreciate that you care enough to talk to me about this. But..." He hesitated, searching for the right way to express what he was feeling. "But this isn’t about age for me. It’s about how she makes me feel—alive, understood, like I can be myself again. It’s different, yeah, but that doesn’t mean it’s wrong."

Ryan listened, his expression softening as he heard the conviction in Hugh’s voice. It was clear that Hugh had thought about this more than Ryan had realized, that this wasn’t just some fleeting infatuation. Still, Ryan couldn’t shake his concern, and he knew this conversation was far from over. But for now, he simply nodded, offering a small, understanding smile, even as his mind continued to turn over the implications of what they had just discussed.

As they stood there, the distance between them bridged by their shared history and mutual respect, the sounds of the playful scene in the background seemed to fade into focus again, reminding them both of the here and now, and the importance of the choices they were making.

After their conversation, Hugh and Ryan rejoined the group, but there was an unspoken tension lingering in the air. Hugh’s mood had shifted slightly,he was still present, still engaged with the kids and with you, but there was a weight to his movements, a contemplative look in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. You noticed, of course, sensing that something was off, but decided not to press him about it just yet. The afternoon was still meant to be enjoyed, and you didn’t want to disrupt the lighthearted atmosphere.

As the day wore on and the sun began to dip lower in the sky, Blake suggested that everyone move inside for dinner. The kids were getting tired, their energy waning, and it seemed like the perfect time to shift gears. You helped Blake in the kitchen, preparing a simple meal while Hugh and Ryan stayed with the kids in the living room. There was a sense of domesticity that felt comforting, as if you were all a part of the same family, sharing in the little moments that make life feel rich and full.

But even as you chopped vegetables and Blake stirred a pot on the stove, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Hugh. He was talking to Ryan, smiling at something one of the kids said, but there was still that shadow in his eyes, something unresolved that tugged at your heart.

Once dinner was ready, you all gathered around the table. The conversation was light and easy, filled with laughter and stories from the past, but you could tell that Ryan was still watching Hugh closely, as if waiting for a sign, some indication that everything was truly okay. And Hugh, ever the actor, was doing his best to mask any inner turmoil, though you could see the subtle signs—the way his fingers tapped restlessly against the table, the slight delay in his responses.

After dinner, as the kids settled down for the evening with a movie, you and Hugh found a moment alone. You had stepped outside to get some fresh air, and he joined you, the two of you standing together on the porch, the cool night air brushing against your skin.

Hugh leaned against the railing, staring out into the darkening yard, his thoughts clearly elsewhere. You reached out, gently placing a hand on his arm, drawing his attention back to you. "Hey," you said softly, "is everything okay?"

He turned to you, and for a moment, the mask slipped. His eyes were tired, filled with a mixture of emotions that he had been holding back all evening. "Ryan said something earlier," he admitted, his voice low. "He’s worried about us. About the age difference, mostly."

You nodded, not entirely surprised. You had sensed that something like this might come up eventually. "And what do you think?" you asked, your voice calm and steady, though your heart was beating a little faster.

Hugh sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I think... I think he has a point, in some ways. But at the same time, I know what I feel for you is real. It’s not about how old you are or how old I am. It’s about the connection we have, about how you make me feel alive in a way I haven’t felt in years."

You listened, your hand still resting on his arm, offering silent support. "But I can’t ignore what he said," Hugh continued, his brow furrowing in thought. "It’s not just about us, it’s about how this affects everyone around us—my kids, our friends... I don’t want to hurt anyone."

The sincerity in his voice was clear, and it made your heart ache a little. "Hugh," you said gently, "I understand where Ryan is coming from, and I know this isn’t easy. But what we have... it’s worth figuring out. We can take things slow, make sure this is what we both want and that we’re doing what’s best for everyone involved."

He looked at you then, really looked at you, and you could see the conflict in his eyes, the way he was torn between his feelings for you and his loyalty to those he cared about. "I want this to work," he said finally, his voice thick with emotion. "I want us to work. But I also need to make sure that it’s the right thing, for everyone."

You nodded, your heart swelling with affection for this man who was trying so hard to do the right thing. "We’ll figure it out together," you assured him. "Whatever happens, we’ll face it as a team. I’m not going anywhere, Hugh."

He smiled then, a small, grateful smile, and pulled you into a gentle embrace. As you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the night surrounding you like a protective cloak, you knew that this was just the beginning of a journey,one that would have its challenges, but also its moments of deep connection and understanding.

The days that followed were filled with a delicate balance. Hugh was more thoughtful, more introspective, and while he didn’t bring up the conversation with Ryan again immediately, you could tell it was still on his mind. You continued to spend time together, both as a couple and with your friends, but there was a newfound awareness in everything you did. It was as if you were both testing the waters, seeing how this relationship fit into the wider fabric of your lives.

One evening, a week or so later, you and Hugh decided to have dinner at his place, just the two of you. It was a quiet night, with the kind of easy conversation that flowed naturally between you. But as you were finishing up, Hugh suddenly set down his fork and looked at you with an intensity that took you by surprise.

"I’ve been thinking a lot about what Ryan said," he began, his tone serious. "And about us. I’ve realized that I need to talk to my kids about this, about us. They deserve to know, and I want them to hear it from me."

You felt a flutter of nerves at the mention of his children, but you knew he was right. This was an important step, one that couldn’t be avoided if your relationship was going to move forward. "How do you think they’ll react?" you asked, your voice soft, but steady.

Hugh sighed, leaning back in his chair. "I’m not sure. They’re good kids, and they love me, but this is... different. It’s not something they’re used to, and I don’t know how they’ll take it. But I owe it to them to be honest."

You reached across the table, taking his hand in yours. "You’re a good father, Hugh. They’ll see that, and they’ll see how much you care about them. Whatever happens, we’ll handle it together."

He squeezed your hand, a small smile playing on his lips. "Thank you. I’m just... I’m nervous. I don’t want to lose them, and I don’t want to lose you."

"You won’t lose me," you assured him, your voice filled with quiet conviction. "We’re in this together, remember?"

He nodded, a look of determination settling over his features. "Yeah, we are."

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

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions as Hugh prepared to talk to his children. He spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the conversation, wanting to be as open and honest as possible, but also sensitive to their feelings. You gave him the space he needed, offering support when he asked for it, but also stepping back when he needed to figure things out on his own.

Finally, the day came. Hugh invited his children over to his place for dinner, a casual gathering that had become a regular occurrence. They arrived, bringing with them the usual energy and chatter, but Hugh could tell they sensed something different in his demeanor. He was trying to stay relaxed, but there was a nervousness he couldn’t completely hide.

After dinner, when they were all settled in the living room, Hugh took a deep breath and began. "There’s something I need to talk to you about," he said, his voice steady but serious. The room quieted, his children turning their attention to him with a mix of curiosity and concern.

He took another breath, then continued. "I’ve met someone. Someone who’s become very important to me. And I want to be honest with you about it."

His children exchanged glances, clearly surprised, but they didn’t interrupt, waiting for him to explain.

"The thing is," Hugh went on, "she’s younger than me. Quite a bit younger, actually. And I know that might be surprising, maybe even hard to understand, but I want you to know that this is something I’ve thought a lot about. She makes me happy, and I feel like this relationship is good for me."

After Hugh’s revelation, the silence in the living room felt heavy, almost suffocating. He could see the discomfort etched on both his son’s and daughter’s faces as they struggled to process what he had just shared.

His son, the older of the two, was the first to speak. He leaned back, crossing his arms, and looked at his father with a mix of confusion and discomfort. “Dad,” he began slowly, as if trying to choose his words carefully, “I don’t really know what to say. This… this is kind of weird. I mean, she’s almost our age.”

Hugh felt a sharp pang in his chest at his son’s words, but he nodded, understanding the reaction. “I know it’s unexpected,” Hugh replied, keeping his voice calm. “And I know it’s a big adjustment. But this is important to me, and I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t think it mattered.”

His daughter, the younger of the two, was quieter, her brow furrowed deeply as she tried to make sense of everything. She looked at her father with wide, uncertain eyes. “Dad, are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. “It’s just… I don’t know how to feel about it. She’s so young, and it feels strange.”

Hugh’s heart ached hearing the uncertainty and discomfort in his daughter’s voice. He wanted to reassure her, to make everything okay, but he knew this was a situation with no easy answers. “I understand it feels strange,” Hugh said gently. “And I don’t expect you to be completely okay with it right away. But I need you to know that this isn’t something I’m taking lightly. I care about her deeply, and she makes me happy in a way I haven’t been in a long time.”

His son exchanged a look with his sister, his expression still troubled. “But what about the fact that she’s closer to our age than yours? Doesn’t that bother you at all?”

Hugh took a deep breath, knowing this conversation was going to be difficult. “It’s something I’ve thought about a lot,” he admitted. “But the connection we have goes beyond age. I know it might seem strange from the outside, but when I’m with her, it feels right. I feel like I’ve found something special, something that I didn’t even know I was missing.”

His daughter bit her lip, still looking conflicted. “But what if it doesn’t work out, Dad? What if she decides she wants someone closer to her own age? Or what if people start talking? I don’t want you to get hurt.”

Her words struck Hugh deeply, and he could see the genuine concern in her eyes. “I understand your worries,” Hugh said softly. “And I’ve thought about those things too. But I can’t let fear stop me from pursuing something that makes me happy. Life is short, and I want to make the most of it.”

His son sighed, running a hand through his hair, still struggling to process his father’s words. “I just… I don’t know, Dad. This whole thing is so out of left field. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be happy, but it’s going to take some time for me to wrap my head around this.”

Hugh nodded, his heart heavy but understanding. “I’m not asking you to be okay with it right away,” he said. “All I’m asking is that you try to understand where I’m coming from. And that you give her a chance. She’s important to me, and I want her to be a part of our lives.”

His daughter looked down at her hands, clearly wrestling with her emotions. “I’ll try, Dad,” she said quietly, though her voice lacked conviction. “But it’s going to take some time.”

His son nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll try too. But just… don’t expect us to be totally cool with this right away. It’s a lot to take in.”

Hugh felt a wave of mixed emotions—relief that they were willing to try, but also a deep sadness that they were struggling so much with the news. He had known this wouldn’t be easy, but seeing the uncertainty and discomfort on their faces was harder than he had anticipated.

“I appreciate that,” Hugh said, his voice thick with emotion. “I really do. And I’m here to talk anytime you need to. I don’t want this to come between us.”

After a few more minutes of tense but civil conversation, his children decided to leave. They both hugged their father, but the embraces felt different—tentative, with a sense of distance that hadn’t been there before. Hugh watched them go, his heart heavy with worry about what this might mean for their relationship.

Later that night, Hugh called you. His voice sounded weary, as if the conversation had taken more out of him than he cared to admit. “I talked to them,” he said as soon as you answered. “It didn’t go as well as I’d hoped.”

Your heart sank at his words. “What did they say?” you asked gently, already bracing yourself for the answer.

“They’re weirded out by it,” Hugh admitted, the sadness in his voice clear. “My son said it feels strange because you’re closer to their age than mine, and my daughter is worried I’m going to get hurt. They said they’ll try to understand, but… it’s going to take time.”

You took a deep breath, trying to process what he was telling you. “I’m sorry, Hugh. I never wanted to cause any tension between you and your kids.”

“It’s not your fault,” Hugh said quickly, his tone firm. “This is on me, and I knew it might be difficult. I just didn’t realize how much it would affect them. But I’m not giving up on us. I just… I need to find a way to help them see what I see.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” you said, your voice filled with quiet determination. “We’ll take it slow, and give them the time they need to adjust. I care about you, Hugh, and I care about your kids too. I want this to work for all of us.”

Hugh sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and gratitude in his voice. “Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. It’s just… it’s hard, seeing them struggle with this. But I know we can get through it.”

In the days and weeks that followed, the tension between Hugh and his children didn’t fully dissipate. They were polite, but there was a noticeable distance between them, an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before. Hugh did his best to maintain their bond, continuing to spend time with them, but the easy, natural closeness they once shared felt strained.

You found yourself in a challenging position as well. You wanted to give Hugh’s children the space they needed, but you also wanted to show them that you were committed to their father and to making this relationship work. You made an effort to connect with them, to demonstrate that you were more than just a fleeting presence in Hugh’s life, but it was clear that it would take time for them to come around.

Despite the challenges, you and Hugh remained close, your bond growing stronger as you navigated the difficulties together. There were moments of doubt, moments when the weight of it all felt overwhelming, but you both knew that what you had was worth fighting for.

One day, after a particularly tense family gathering, Hugh sat down with you, his expression troubled. “I’m worried that this is going to push them away,” he confessed, his voice filled with a vulnerability that he rarely showed. “I don’t want to lose them, but I also don’t want to lose you. I don’t know how to make this work.”

You reached out, taking his hand in yours. “We’ll keep trying,” you said softly. “It’s not going to be easy, but I believe that with time, they’ll see that this is real. That what we have is important.”

Hugh nodded, but the worry in his eyes didn’t fully disappear. “I hope you’re right. I just want everyone I care about to be okay with this.”

Later that night, after the tense conversation with his kids, Hugh felt an overwhelming need to talk to someone who could help him sort through his emotions. He picked up his phone and called Ryan, hoping for some clarity.

Ryan answered after a couple of rings, his voice cheerful as usual. “Hey, Hugh! What’s up?”

Hugh sighed deeply, the weight of the day pressing down on him. “I had a talk with my kids tonight. Told them about the relationship.”

Ryan’s tone immediately shifted, becoming more serious. “How did that go?”

“Not great,” Hugh admitted, leaning back against the couch. “They’re struggling with it. The age difference is really throwing them off. They’re trying to be supportive, but I can tell they’re uncomfortable.”

Ryan was silent for a moment, processing what Hugh had said. “I figured that might be tough for them,” he finally said. “But, Hugh, i have to ask again… is this really the right relationship for you?”

Hugh’s heart skipped a beat at Ryan’s question, and he felt a wave of doubt start to creep in. “What do you mean now?” he asked.

“I’m not doubting your feelings,” Ryan replied gently. “But there are practical things to consider. Like… what if she wants kids? Are you really ready to be a father again at this stage in your life?”

Hugh went silent, the question hitting him harder than he’d expected. It was something that had been lurking in the back of his mind, but he hadn’t confronted it directly. “I don’t know,” he admitted finally. “I haven’t talked to her about it yet.”

Ryan’s voice was steady, but there was concern there too. “You need to. This isn’t something you can just hope won’t come up. She’s young, Hugh. If she wants kids, that’s a huge part of her life she might be looking forward to. Are you ready to do that all over again? The sleepless nights, the diapers, raising a child from the ground up? Because that’s not just a small part of your life,it’s a whole new chapter.”

Hugh swallowed hard, the reality of Ryan’s words settling in. “I know it’s a big deal,” he said, his voice quieter now. “But I haven’t even asked her if she wants kids. Maybe she doesn’t.”

“And maybe she does,” Ryan countered gently but firmly. “And what then? Are you going to be okay with starting over as a new father? Are you willing to take that on, knowing how much it will change your life? And what about your kids? How are they going to feel about a new sibling who’s closer in age to them than you?”

Hugh leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees as he stared at the floor. “I honestly don’t know if I’m ready for that. The idea of having more kids… it’s overwhelming. But at the same time, I don’t want to lose what we have.”

Ryan was quiet for a moment, letting Hugh’s words sink in. “Look, man,” he said softly, “I’m not saying you should walk away from her if she wants kids. But you’ve got to be honest with yourself,and with her. If you’re not up for being a father again, that’s something you need to make clear. Because if you’re not on the same page about this, it could lead to a lot of pain down the road, for both of you.”

Hugh nodded, even though Ryan couldn’t see him. “You’re right. I can’t keep avoiding this. I need to talk to her about it, and I need to be honest with myself too. I just… I don’t want to lose her.”

“I get that,” Ryan said, his voice full of empathy. “But sometimes the hardest conversations are the ones that matter the most. You’ve got to figure out what you’re willing to do, and what you’re not. And you’ve got to be okay with the fact that it might mean things don’t turn out the way you want.”

Hugh felt the weight of those words settle in his chest, a mix of fear and uncertainty gnawing at him. “Yeah,” he said finally, his voice heavy with emotion. “I need to talk to her. I can’t keep this to myself any longer.”

“Good,” Ryan replied, his tone supportive. “You’ll figure it out, Hugh. Just make sure you’re doing what’s right for you, and for her. This is too important to leave unresolved.”

As Hugh ended the call, he felt the gravity of the situation pressing down on him. The next step was clear, but it wasn’t going to be easy. He cared deeply for you, but the question of children—and what kind of future you both wanted,was something that couldn’t be ignored. He knew he had to confront it, no matter how daunting the conversation might be

The next day, a heavy weight hung over Hugh, the kind that lingered long after his conversation with Ryan. The questions Ryan had posed echoed relentlessly in his mind, refusing to be silenced. Each reverberation made it clearer to Hugh that he could no longer avoid the inevitable. He needed to have a serious conversation with you, one that had the potential to shape the trajectory of your relationship in ways he couldn’t fully predict. As much as he dreaded this discussion, he knew it was necessary, an unavoidable step if there was to be any future between the two of you.

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

When you arrived at his house that afternoon, it was immediately clear that something was off. Hugh, who was typically so warm and lighthearted, greeted you with a tension in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. It was subtle but unmistakable, a storm brewing beneath the surface of his usual calm demeanor. After a few minutes of polite small talk that did little to ease the growing tension, Hugh took your hand in his, the warmth of his touch laced with a new sense of urgency. Without a word, he led you to the living room, where you both sat down on the couch.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about,” Hugh began, his voice steady but carrying a gravity that was impossible to ignore. He squeezed your hand, his gaze searching yours as he struggled to find the right words. “I’ve been thinking a lot about us, about our future. And there’s something important we need to discuss.”

Your heart quickened, sensing the seriousness in his tone. “Of course, Hugh. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”

Hugh took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your stomach tighten. “I care about you so much, and I love what we have together. But Ryan brought up some things that I’ve been avoiding, things I didn’t want to face. But I need to be honest with you and with myself.”

You could see the internal battle he was waging, the way his words came slowly, carefully, as if each one had been weighed a thousand times before being spoken aloud.

He hesitated for a moment, then continued, his voice softer now. “The thing is… you’re at a point in your life where you might want things that I’m not sure I’m ready for. Like kids. I’ve already raised mine, and the idea of starting over… it’s a lot to think about. I need to know what you want because if you’re hoping to have children one day, I don’t want to hold you back or disappoint you.”

The sincerity in his words struck you deeply. It was clear how much this conversation cost him, the concern drawn in every line of his face, the way his eyes searched yours for reassurance. You felt a pang of empathy and love for him, seeing how hard he was trying to protect you, even at the cost of his own peace of mind.

You reached out, taking his hand in both of yours, your touch gentle but firm. A reassuring smile played on your lips as you met his worried gaze.

“Hugh,” you said softly, your voice steady and calm, “I’ve thought about this too. I know it’s something we need to talk about, but the truth is, it doesn’t matter to me what the future holds as long as we’re together. If having kids isn’t something you want, then it’s not something I need. I want to be with you, and that’s what’s most important to me.”

A flicker of relief crossed Hugh’s face, though it was tempered by lingering doubt. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to regret anything later on.”

You nodded, your expression unwavering, your eyes locked on his. “I’m sure. I’ve never been more certain of anything. I don’t need children to be happy, Hugh. I just need you.”

For a moment, Hugh just looked at you, the tension in his shoulders slowly melting away as your words sank in. His grip on your hand tightened slightly, a silent thank you that spoke volumes more than any words could. “Thank you for saying that,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I just didn’t want to lead you into something that would make you unhappy later on.”

You leaned in closer, resting your head on his shoulder for a brief moment, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breath. It was a small gesture, but it spoke of trust, of understanding, of the deep connection that had grown between you. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your face inches from his.

“I understand why you’re worried,” you said, your voice soft but resolute. “But I promise you, my happiness comes from being with you. I’m in this for us, not for anything else.”

Hugh’s heart swelled with affection as he gazed at you, his eyes softening with a tenderness that made your own heart flutter. He reached up to brush a strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering as he cupped your cheek. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.

A warm smile spread across your face at his words, and you could feel the tension in the room dissipating, replaced by a comforting sense of mutual understanding. But as you sat there, a playful glint sparked in your eyes, a mischievous idea forming in your mind. Without a word, you shifted, slowly straddling his lap, your movements deliberate and teasing. You could feel his body react to your closeness, the atmosphere between you shifting from serious to something far more primal.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear as you whispered in a voice that was both sultry and teasing, “But you know, what if I did stopped taking birth control, and you just breed me like a fucking slut? If you ever want to have babies, my womb is right here.”

You bit your lip, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye, the challenge and desire clear in your expression. The shock on Hugh’s face quickly gave way to laughter, a deep, hearty sound that filled the room. But as his laughter subsided, you felt him growing hard beneath you, the tension between you transforming into something electric, charged with unspoken possibilities.

Hugh cupped your face with one hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he looked up at you with a mix of amusement and arousal. “You’re something else, you know that?” he said, his voice rough with desire.

You grinned, feeling the heat between you intensify, your body responding to his touch. “I know. So, what do you say, Hugh? Want to take me up on that offer?”

His hands slid down to your hips, gripping you firmly as he pulled you even closer. “You’re driving me crazy,” he muttered, his voice low and thick with need. “But I’m getting used to it.”

Without another word, you leaned down, capturing his lips in a heated kiss, the intensity between you growing with each passing second. The conversation from moments before faded into the background as your bodies pressed together, the connection between you burning brighter than ever. The future might still be uncertain, but in that moment, all that mattered was the undeniable chemistry you shared, the passion that flared between you, and the love that anchored it all.

Hugh gently scooped you up into his arms, his strength evident in the ease with which he lifted you. His hands were warm against your back, and you felt the security of his embrace as he carried you through the hallway. Each step he took was deliberate, his gaze never leaving yours, a mixture of affection and desire swirling in his eyes. The dim light from the hallway lamps cast a golden glow around you both, heightening the intimacy of the moment.

As he carried you into the bedroom, the door swung open with a gentle push from his foot. The room was a sanctuary, bathed in the soft, silver light of the moon that streamed through the partially drawn curtains. The air was filled with the subtle scent of fresh linen, and the faint hum of the night outside added to the serenity. Hugh set you down on the bed with such care, as if you were something precious, something to be treasured. The mattress yielded under your weight, the plush sheets cool against your skin as you sank into them.

Hovering above you, Hugh's presence was commanding, yet tender. He supported himself on his arms, his face close to yours, and the warmth of his breath brushed against your lips. His eyes, deep and dark, searched yours, finding in them the same longing and desire that burned within him. The world outside ceased to exist, it was just the two of you, entwined in this moment.

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, your gaze filled with a hunger that mirrored his own. With a voice that dripped with seduction, you whispered, "Wouldn't you love to knock me up, daddy? Imagine it… Filling me up with you every single day, feeling your warmth inside me. Watching as my body changes, knowing that it's because of you. My belly growing rounder, fuller, with our child. My breasts swelling, becoming heavier, just for you…"

The words you spoke were laced with an intoxicating blend of innocence and temptation, a fantasy you painted with vivid clarity. Hugh's reaction was immediate, his eyes darkened further, pupils dilating with the intensity of his arousal. He swallowed hard, his breathing growing deeper as he processed what you'd said. He let out a low, almost primal hum of approval, the sound vibrating through the air between you.

"Hmm, that would be nice, yes," he murmured, his voice thick and gravelly with need. There was a flicker of doubt in his expression as he added with a soft chuckle, "But I'm an old man, baby."

You could feel his reluctance, his hesitation born from the years that separated you, yet it did nothing to diminish your desire. If anything, it only fuelled your need to reassure him, to show him that age meant nothing to you. You reached up, your fingers threading through his hair, pulling him closer until his forehead rested against yours. "That's fine," you whispered, your voice tender yet filled with certainty. "I want it all with you, Hugh. Every part of you. Always."

Your words seemed to wash over him, easing the tension from his body. He dipped his head, capturing your lips in a kiss that was as much a promise as it was an expression of his desire. The kiss was slow, deliberate, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that belied the fire burning within him. His hands began to explore your body, tracing the curves and contours with a reverence that made your skin tingle with anticipation.

He started at your hips, his fingers trailing along the waistband of your clothing before he began to undress you, piece by piece. Each article of clothing was removed with care, as if he were unwrapping a gift he had waited his entire life to open. His eyes followed his hands, drinking in every inch of exposed skin with a hunger that made your breath catch in your throat.

When you were finally bare before him, he paused, his gaze lingering on your chest. The sight of your breasts, soft and inviting, seemed to captivate him. He stared, his eyes filled with a mix of awe and lust, as if he were seeing something sacred. You could feel his breath hitch, the air between you thick with the weight of his desire.

A slow smile spread across your lips as you noticed his fixation. You felt a surge of confidence, knowing how much he adored you, how much he wanted you. With a teasing lilt in your voice, you broke the silence. "Thinking about something, Daddy?"

The question hung in the air, playful yet charged with meaning. Hugh's eyes snapped back to yours, his gaze burning with intensity. For a moment, he said nothing, simply letting the question sink in, letting the desire between you build to a fever pitch. Then, with a low, rumbling chuckle, he leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "I’m thinking about how much I want to make you mine. Every inch of you."

You gazed up at Hugh, your heart swelling with the intensity of the moment, your voice soft but filled with unshakable certainty. "I'm already yours, Hugh," you whispered, the words slipping from your lips like a sacred vow. The sincerity in your tone seemed to reach deep into his soul, igniting a fire that had been burning for far too long. His eyes darkened with desire, and without another word, he leaned in, his lips finding the delicate curve of your neck.

He kissed you there, his mouth hot against your skin, each press of his lips sending electric shocks of pleasure through your body. He moved slowly, savouring the taste of you, his tongue darting out to tease the sensitive spot just below your ear. You shivered at the sensation, your body instinctively arching towards him, craving more of his touch.

A low, satisfied hum escaped his lips, the sound vibrating against your neck, sending a wave of warmth straight to your core. "Hmm, I want more of you," he murmured, his voice dropping to a husky whisper that made your breath hitch. The depth of his need was palpable, wrapping around you like a physical force, making your heart race and your skin tingle with anticipation.

You let out a soft moan, your hands wandering up his broad back, feeling the muscles shift beneath your fingertips. His skin was warm to the touch, and as you traced the contours of his body, you couldn't help but marvel at the man before you,the man who made you feel desired in a way you had never experienced before.

With deliberate movements, Hugh began to undress himself, his eyes locked on yours, watching your reaction as each piece of clothing fell away. First, his shirt, revealing the strong, defined chest that you had always admired. Then, his pants, leaving him gloriously bare before you. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of him, every inch of his body a testament to his strength and vitality.

"You know," you began, your voice laced with admiration as your eyes roamed over his form, "you don't look like an old man at all. That body is amazing." The words came out almost in a reverent whisper, as if you were speaking your thoughts aloud without even realizing it.

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm, filling the room with a sense of comfort and familiarity. Leaning down, he captured your lips in a kiss, his mouth soft but insistent against yours. "Thank you, princess," he murmured between kisses, his voice tender yet filled with the heat of his desire.

His hands were on you again, exploring every curve, every dip of your body with a reverence that made you feel cherished and adored. He took his time, mapping out every inch of your skin as if committing it to memory. His touch was electric, leaving a trail of fire in its wake, igniting a burning need deep within you.

Finally, with a smooth, effortless motion, Hugh positioned himself above you. The heat radiating from his body mingled with your own, creating an intoxicating blend of desire and anticipation. As he slid into you, you gasped, the sensation overwhelming in the most delicious way.

"Awe, you're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice filled with awe and satisfaction. He revelled in the way your body responded to him, the way you welcomed him so eagerly. His words sent a jolt of pleasure through you, making your body tighten around him in response. You rolled your eyes playfully at his smugness, but the laughter that bubbled up from your throat betrayed your delight.

"Just fuck me already, like you're twenty," you teased, a daring smile playing on your lips. There was a playful challenge in your tone, a provocation that you knew he wouldn't ignore.

Hugh raised an eyebrow, a devilish grin spreading across his face as he accepted your challenge. "You know I fuck you better than any young man can," he chuckled, his voice dripping with confidence and desire. And with that, he began to move, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that started slow and deliberate, each thrust measured and precise, designed to drive you wild.

As he moved within you, your mind began to drift, fueled by the fantasies you had been nurturing for so long. The heat between you intensified, and with it, a thought took root in your mind, one you could no longer suppress. You had been toying with the idea for a while now, the thought of what it would be like to let go completely, to give yourself to him in the most primal way possible.

Your breath quickened as the thought grew more insistent, a desire that you could no longer ignore. "Hugh," you breathed, your voice trembling with a mixture of excitement and nervousness.

He paused, his movements slowing as he looked down at you, concern flickering in his eyes. "What is it, baby?" he asked, his voice gentle, yet tinged with worry.

You hesitated for a moment, the words caught in your throat, but the intensity of your need overpowered your doubts. "I… I want to stop taking birth control," you confessed, the words spilling out before you could second-guess them. "I want you to cum inside me, for real. I want you to make me pregnant."

The impact of your words hit him like a freight train, and for a moment, he simply stared at you, his brain struggling to process what you had just said. His eyes widened slightly, the intensity of his gaze deepening as the full weight of your confession settled over him.

"You're serious?" he asked, his voice barely more than a whisper, as if he couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

You nodded, your heart pounding in your chest as you reached up to cup his face in your hands. "Yes, Hugh. I want this. I want you to fill me up with your seed, to watch my belly grow with your child. I want to see the way you look at me when you know I've got your baby inside me. I need it."

A primal growl rumbled low in Hugh's throat, his control slipping away as your words broke down the last of his restraint. The thought of you swollen with his child, carrying his legacy, was enough to send his desire spiralling out of control. "Fuck, baby," he groaned, his voice thick with need. "You really want this? You want me to breed you?"

"Yes," you gasped, your body trembling with anticipation. "I want it more than anything. Please, Hugh, give it to me."

That was all he needed to hear. His composure shattered, replaced by an overwhelming urge to claim you, to mark you as his in the most primal way possible. He surged forward, his hips driving into you with a force that made you cry out in pleasure. His movements were no longer controlled, they were wild, frantic, driven by the need to fulfil the promise he had made to you.

"I’m going to fuck you so good," he growled, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. “I'm going to fill you up with my cum until you're dripping with it. You want to be my breeding slut? You want to carry my baby?"

"Yes!" you moaned, your body arching beneath him as he pounded into you with relentless intensity. "I want to be your breeding slut. I want to carry your baby, Hugh!"

His pace quickened, his movements becoming more erratic as he lost himself in the sensation of you wrapped around him. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer, deeper, as he thrust into you with a fervor that bordered on desperation. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered filthy things, his breath hot against your skin.

The room was filled with the sounds of your bodies coming together, the wet slap of skin against skin, the creak of the bed beneath you, and your combined moans of pleasure. Hugh's words sent you spiraling, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "Fuck, you're so amazing" he groaned, his voice hoarse with need. "So fucking perfect. I'm going to cum so deep inside you. You're going to feel me for days, baby."

His words, his relentless pace, everything was too much, and you could feel your climax building, the tension coiling tightly within you. You were close, so close, and you could tell he was too, the way his movements were becoming more frantic, more desperate.

And then, as the pleasure reached a fever pitch, you screamed out in desperation, "Fuck, make me pregnant, Daddy! I wanna have your kids so fucking bad!"

The sound of your voice, the raw need in your words, was his undoing. With a guttural roar, he let go completely, his hips slamming into yours with a ferocity that left you gasping for breath. He drove into you harder, faster, his body shaking with the force of his impending release.

You felt the world slip away, your vision blurring as the pleasure overwhelmed you, your body tightening around him as you reached your peak. The orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, pulling you under, making you scream his name as your body convulsed beneath him.

Hugh followed you over the edge, his release crashing into him with the same ferocity. He buried himself deep inside you, his body trembling with the force of his orgasm as he spilled into you, filling you up with his seed. The sensation was overwhelming, a flood of warmth that spread through your core, marking you as his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the world seemed to stand still, the only sounds in the room were your ragged breaths and the pounding of your hearts, still echoing in your ears. Hugh collapsed beside you, pulling you into his arms, his body still trembling from the intensity of what had just happened. His chest rose and fell heavily, and he buried his face in your hair, pressing soft kisses to the top of your head as you both came down from the euphoric high.

Your body felt like it was floating, still tingling with the aftershocks of your climax. The warmth of Hugh's embrace grounded you, and you nestled closer into his side, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your cheek. The room was filled with a heavy, heady silence, both of you too overwhelmed to speak, lost in the aftermath of the storm you'd just weathered together.

After what felt like an eternity, Hugh finally broke the silence, his voice still rough with lingering desire. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern lacing his tone as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. His dark eyes searched yours, seeking reassurance, a flicker of worry crossing his face as if he feared he might have gone too far.

You smiled softly, lifting your hand to brush a strand of hair from his forehead, your touch tender as you reassured him. "More than okay," you whispered, your voice still breathless. "That was incredible, Hugh. I've never felt anything like that."

His eyes softened, the corners crinkling with a smile as he pressed a kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment as if savoring the feel of you. "Good," he murmured against your skin, his breath warm and comforting. "I just… you drive me wild, you know that?"

Your heart swelled at his words, and you nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. You felt the same way about him,he brought out a side of you that was uninhibited, raw, and utterly devoted to him. It was exhilarating, and you craved more.

As you lay there, still entwined in each other's arms, the reality of what you'd just done began to settle in. You'd crossed a line, opened a door that couldn't easily be closed, and the thought thrilled you to your core. You'd asked him to make you pregnant, to fill you with his child, and he'd done it with a fervor that spoke to a deep, primal desire within him.

Hugh was the first to break the silence again, his voice soft but serious as he held you close. “So… do you really want kids after all?” His question was gentle, but it carried the weight of something much deeper.

You took a deep breath, considering your words carefully. “I want us to be happy,” you said finally, your voice soft but firm. “And if that means having kids, then maybe we’ll get there eventually. But I’m also scared, Hugh. Scared of what it would mean for you, for us. We have to think about your age, about the time we have…”

He nodded, his eyes serious as he listened to you. “I know,” he murmured. “I think about that too. But we have to face the reality of where we are right now. We can’t ignore it.”

The room was filled with a heavy silence as you both contemplated the gravity of the situation. It wasn’t just about desire or love, it was about time, about the ticking clock that neither of you could stop. You loved Hugh with all your heart, but you couldn’t deny the fear that gnawed at you, the fear that time might not be on your side.

After a long pause, you sighed, leaning your head against his chest as you tried to push aside the worries that plagued you. “Maybe we’ll just see what happens, Hugh,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “This is just the beginning of our journey together. We don’t have to decide everything right now.”

Hugh’s arms tightened around you, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re right,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ve got time to figure things out. But it’s something we’ll need to think about, sooner rather than later.”

You nodded, the weight of his words settling over you like a blanket. The reality of your situation was something you couldn’t ignore, no matter how much you wanted to. But for now, you were together, and that was what mattered most.

Hugh shifted slightly, his hand running gently up and down your back as he continued to speak. “Before we even get to that point, we need to think about other things too,” he said, his tone more serious now. “Like announcing our relationship to the public. We’ll need to do it slowly, subtly.”

You smiled at his words, appreciating the thoughtfulness behind them, but you couldn’t help the small pang of anxiety that tugged at the back of your mind. The idea of going public with your relationship was daunting, especially considering the scrutiny you both would face. But you knew it was something that would have to happen eventually.

“I know,” you replied, your voice steady but tinged with an underlying tension. “It makes sense, taking things slow. We have to be careful.”

But even as you said the words, the reality of what you were facing began to sink in. The public aspect of your relationship, the challenges of starting a family later in life, it all felt overwhelming, like a storm gathering on the horizon. You tried to push the thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now, but they lingered, a constant reminder of the complexities that lay ahead.

Hugh seemed to sense your unease, and he pulled you closer, his lips brushing against your temple in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll handle it together,” he promised, his voice firm and reassuring. “Whatever comes our way, we’ll face it as a team.”

His words were meant to soothe, and in many ways, they did. But they also served as a reminder of the challenges that lay ahead, challenges that you couldn’t ignore. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath as you tried to focus on the warmth of Hugh’s embrace, on the love that you knew would carry you through whatever came next.

“I know we will,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “But it’s just… a lot to think about.”

Hugh nodded, his lips pressing another soft kiss to your forehead before he settled back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “One step at a time, baby,” he murmured. “We don’t have to have all the answers right now.”

His words were a balm to your anxious thoughts, and you let out a small sigh of relief, allowing yourself to relax in his arms. The road ahead might be uncertain, but for now, you were together, and that was enough.

You smiled softly, feeling the tension begin to ease as you let yourself focus on the present moment, on the steady rhythm of his breathing. “We’ll figure it out, Hugh,” you said quietly. “No matter what, we’ll figure it out.”

He pressed a final, lingering kiss to your forehead before settling back into the pillows, his arms still wrapped securely around you. “Yes, we will,” he agreed, his voice filled with quiet determination.

And as you drifted off to sleep, you held onto that thought, letting it anchor you in the uncertain waters of the future. You didn’t have all the answers, and you didn’t know what lay ahead, but you knew that whatever it was, you would face it together, one step at a time.

taglist (dm if u wanna be added): @ermlady @elloredef @haytchee @melaninjoys @megangovier @blue2jay @hearts4suri @narniabusinessbitch @jadenlyday25 @getmeoutofhell @rockytheluver @stark-ironman @shellbilee @kurcoswife @ru-kru

#hugh jackman #hugh jackman smut #wolverine #wolverine smut #marvel smut #wolverine and deadpool #logan howlett #logan howlett smut #marvel

199 notes · View notes