#jewelry unboxing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

s6lars · 8 months

Text

dress.

a harmless prank leaves jamal acting unexpectedly and you're determind to find out why — even if it forces you to get dangerously close. (wc: 7.5k)

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. jm42 x reader, ft. mathys tel

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄. smut — mdni! with a good chunk of plot, jealous brother’s bsf jamal.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. cursing, drinking, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering + more

𝐀/𝐍. requested here, thank you for waiting patiently anon !! this is also my first time writing in months, i'm so terribly sorry that i'm rusty and it might not be my greatest work. but i hope you enjoy ! (also this is not proofread lol)

“Fuck!” you groan, examining the plastic bag in your hands.

“What? What’s wrong?” You chew on on your bottom lip, setting the bag on your thighs where you kneeled on the floor. You pick up your phone, flipping the camera so your friend could see on Facetime.

“They sent me the wrong one.”

Nothing destresses you quite as much as online shopping, and with your finals finished a few days ago, you’d gone crazy on the internet — fitting as much as your cart would allow it. The stack of boxes in your room began to pile as the orders came in one by one, and once they all did, you treated yourself to your own version of Christmas.

“Which one did you get originally?” your friend, Andrea, asks. You’ve been giving her an unboxing of everything you’d bought for yourself, opening packages on your bedroom floor with your speaker blasting Drake in the back.

“I ordered this in green, they gave it to me in black.”

“Oh. Well, at least it’s the same dress right?” Andrea takes a bite out of the donut she’s eating. “I still think it looks nice.” “Yeah, me too. But I already have, like, 3 other black dresses,” you sigh.

“I think you should still try it on.” “You think?” “Yeah, why not? It’s just in a different color anyway.” Andrea’s right. You’re not really in the mood to go through the hassle of online returns and back-and-forth conversations with the seller.

You leave your phone on your bedroom floor to get changed off-camera, standing in front of your mirror. The dress feels promising as you pull it out of the bag — it’s strapless, jet black in color with a few cutouts on the side joined by metal rings, exposing your sides. It feels smooth as you slide it on, the stretchy material hugging your curves and the hem stopping on your mid thighs.

“So…” You pick up your phone, showing the dress off to Andrea. “How does it look?”

Andrea gasps in awe, making you giggle at her reaction. “Oh my god, I think I’m liking this one the most so far,” she raves, and you look to the pile of the other dresses you’d bought on your floor.

You adjust the dress, smoothing it out, pulling the hem lower. The dress is gorgeous, hugging you in all the right places. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling more confident the longer you have it on.

“This is so nice, actually. Who even cares about the color anymore, I’m obsessed,” you gush.

“Mhm. And you can wear it with that purse you bought, and with the gold jewelry as well,” Andrea suggests, and you hum in agreement. As she’s talking, you reach for your water bottle on your nightstand, disappointed when you realize it’s empty. “Hey, I’m gonna fill up my water, give me a sec,” you state, muting yourself and tossing your phone on your bed.

You waltz in the kitchen, bringing your speaker with you, taking advantage of the fact that you’re home alone. You incoherently hum along to SZA, waiting for your bottle to be filled — and a loud noise erupts from behind where you stood.

“BOO!”

You shriek, body jolting forward, causing some of the water to spill on your dress and your speaker to almost fall loose from your grip.

“What the fu— Oh my god, J.” You’re met with familiar brown eyes as you turned around, seeing Jamal with his hands flat on the kitchen island where he’d slammed them. He giggles at your annoyance.

To most, Jamal is Bayern’s starboy, a young player dazzling in the world of football. To you, he’s your brother’s best friend, and someone who shows up unannounced to your house a lot. Your older brother Noah works in the industry as an agent, and the two of them met many years ago as teenagers. Now, they’re close as ever — so close, that Noah trusts him enough to give him a spare keycard to your shared apartment.

You met Jamal not long after they hit it off, and you can safely say you’ve also become friends with him now.

Just friends. That’s all you’ll ever be.

Like Noah has stressed multiple times before.

You grab a towel, dabbing the wet spot on your dress. “What do you want, J?”

“Is Noah home?” “No. He went to the gym,” you respond, groaning, making sure your dissatisfaction is heard loud and clear. Once you do, you turn off the obnoxiously loud speaker that prevented you from hearing his entrance.

“Without me?”

“Yeah, he needed the time alone, clearly,” you snap back, circling around the kitchen island to face him. As you do, Jamal’s eyes trail down your body, your dress now revealed, his face twisting in a mix of confusion and awe.

“Bit early for a night out, no?” He says, clearly referencing to your dress. He’d be right, it’s only the early evening.

You look down at your dress before meeting his eyes again, seeing him shift uncomfortably. “Who said this was for a night out?”

He cocks his head to the side. “It’s not?”

The devil on your shoulder is telling you to get back at him for almost ruining your dress and breaking your speaker. If he can show up unannounced, why can’t you lie and pull a few strings? “No… it’s for a date.”

You lie straight through your teeth, making up a story as you go. Jamal’s jaw falls slack, like he’s about to say something, but then it closes before he does.

“A… date?” He heard you the first time. He just wants to know if you’re being serious.

And you keep pretending that you are. “Yeah, a date. Why’s that so shocking?” You fold your arms, leaning against the kitchen island.

Jamal pauses. “With who?” While you’re biting the inside of your cheek to prevent yourself from laughing, he’s having none of it. His eyebrows are furrowed, his jaw tense as he questions you.

“With this guy from uni. He’s just so sweet,” you sigh dreamily for dramatic effect, dragging the gimmick as long as you could. “We’ve been talking for a while and now he wants to get serious.” “Serious?”

“...Yeah. I really think we could be a thing.” Your face falters at Jamal’s deadpan response. You’re only joking with him, but even if you weren’t, why is the mention of a date getting him like this?

You succesfully pulled his strings— but you don’t know if you should be happy or not. Jamal looks at you, almost in offense, and you can practically see the steam coming off of his ears. You’ve known him for a while, and yet this is the first you’ve seen of him like this.

“Tell Noah I’m not hanging out today.” Jamal storms out the kitchen, your mouth falling agape at his reaction. You trail behind him, worried that you took it too far.

“What? No, Jamal wait—” He doesn’t spare a single glance as he marches out the door, slamming it in your face, sending the hinges rattling. You’re frozen in your spot, unable to move or even process what just happened for a few moments before you’re dragging yourself back to your room, still slightly shaken.

You grab your phone and unmute yourself, still seeing Andrea on the line.

“Hey.”

“Hey, what took you so long?” She notices the startled look in your eyes, sitting up in her bed.

“Sorry. Jamal … came over earlier. It was weird,” you say, slumping against your headboard.

“Weird? Isn’t he your friend? Or a friend of your brother?”

“Yeah, but… well, I—” you exhale, taking the time to string your words properly. “I was joking around, but then he got really upset and stormed out,” you explain.

“What the hell?” “I know. I’ve never seen him that pissed off. Not because of me at least.”

“That’s so weird. All over a joke?” “Yeah.” “What a prick,” Andrea sneers.

“No, don’t say that.” You’re not sure why, but you don’t really want to tell Andrea that the joke in question involved you lying about going on a date. “Hey, I gotta go. Bye.”

You abruptly end the call carelessly tossing your phone aside. Now that you’re alone, you stare at the ceiling, finally having the time to process the interaction. The mood has shifted now. An inkling creeps into your thoughts as to why Jamal got so defensive, but you shrug it off, terrified of its consequences, terrified it would manifest.

“It’s probably nothing,” you mumble to yourself. But is it? You’re tossing and turning in bed because something is telling you that it’s not just nothing, and you have to find out for yourself.

You have to talk to Jamal.

“You’re up early.”

Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see Noah splayed on the living room couch, working on his laptop.

You take a sip from your mug, setting it down on the coffee table before replying. “And you’re home for once.”

Noah gets exceptionally busy during the transfer window. You’ve been getting used to spending weeks home alone, or only catching him in the early mornings or coming in late at night, but almost never when the sun was out. Part of you thinks it’s not just work that’s been holding up, though.

“You know how busy I get in January,” Noah says. He squints as he watches you sit adjacent to him, putting on your socks and shoes. “And where are you headed?”

You pause. “Just going on a walk.”

Noah doesn’t need to know that the walk in question is en route to Jamal’s house.

Last night, you went to bed uneasy, hoping you could sleep it off. You woke up this morning and nothing had changed, and that’s when you decided you had to talk to Jamal immediately or you’d explode by midday. Noah being home wasn’t part of your plans.

He’s always been a little protective, as all older brothers are to their sisters. You vividly recall when you first met Jamal at one of his infamous house parties— alone in the kitchen, getting drinks for your friends when he strolled in, starting a conversation. It was an instant connection, with you finding yourself taking your sweet time just to keep talking to him.

Of course, Noah barged in at one point, throwing his arm around you and escorting you out of the kitchen himself, not before interrogating you on your conversation with Jamal.

Although he’s loosened up since, you know Noah would start getting skeptical if you told him you were headed to Jamal’s place first thing in the morning. But what Noah doesn’t know won’t hurt him.

“Right, bye.” Just as you stand up to leave, Noah interrupts.

“Wait! Can you get some sandwiches from the café when you come back? Thanks!”

“As long as you pay me back!” you chime, already halfway out the door.

The walk to Jamal’s place is a rare but not unfamiliar one. You live not too far away, and there have been countless times where you had to pick Noah up after a night out, so you knew the way well. You could’ve taken your car, but you decided you need the extra time for yourself, deciding on a walk.

You’re not really sure what you’re getting out of this. Your mind fluctuates between feeling like this is the right thing to do and the urge to turn back and buy those sandwiches Noah was talking about earlier.

But you never do, and now you’re standing in front of his doorway.

Unlike with your house, Jamal’s never given you a spare set of keys so you can waltz into his at any given moment. You take a deep breath before ringing the doorbell, your heart beating out of your chest as you do.

Silence. You ring the doorbell a few more times, hearing the soft pattering of footsteps behind the door.

You fix your hair and adjust your clothes, awaiting Jamal’s arrival.

Instead, you’re met with the sight of a woman when the door swings open.

A half-naked woman.

She looks slightly older than you, dressed in only a sports bra and sweats, her hair tussled like she just woke up. You’re both looking at each other up and down, confused. This is the first you two have seen of each other.

“Can I help you?” She’s the first to break the silence. You reluctantly meet her gaze. There’s a weird territorial atmosphere lingering between you two, like the person standing before you shouldn’t be here.

“Uh, I’m looking for Jamal,” you say, your voice coming out a lot shakier than you anticipated. A pit continues to grow in your stomach. You probably should have turned back home when you had the chance.

“Oh, he’s in the shower.”

Your heart drops. You’re not an idiot, and you’re no child— you can put two and two together. Neither is Jamal, and you know he probably hooks up with someone whenever he gets the chance. But why does that bother you so much? And why are you only feeling this way now?

You’re lost in your thoughts, and the woman waves a hand in front of your face, trying to pull you back to reality.. “Did you need anything? He’ll probably take a while.”

You shake your head, already getting ready to take off. “Just tell him I was joking yesterday.”

“Huh?” Turning around on your heels, you leave the woman hanging, walking away from the door. Whatever you were expecting to happen when you got to Jamal’s place, it surely isn’t this.

You glare straight ahead, not caring for whoever you bumped into. All you knew was just in that moment, you had to get as far away as possible from Jamal’s house. And so you did, marching as far as your legs would take you, until beads of sweat ran down your temples and your breathing turned heavy.

Maybe Noah was right in trying to put some distance between you two.

Meanwhile, Jamal dries himself off with a towel as he leaves his bathroom. He walks into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, passing by his front door, seeing the girl he picked up last night standing by.

She hears his footsteps as he comes down the stairs, turning to face him. “Morning, baby,” she coos, putting on the best lovey-dovey voice she could muster.

Jamal winces at the remark. “I’ll get you a taxi after you shower,” he replies, walking right past her and into the kitchen. The girl rolls her eyes, groaning silently. She doesn’t know why she keeps trying to get closer to him when all they’re doing this for is sex.

“Some girl came over while you were in the shower, by the way,” she brazenly states, hoping to get his attention for once.

“Who?” “Like I know. She just came by and asked if you were here, and then told me to tell you that she was just joking yesterday?”

It works. Jamal stops dead in his tracks. “And what did she look like?” The girl starts describing how you looked from the short appearance you made earlier. The more she speaks, she sees the gears turning in Jamal’s head as he puts two and two together, ultimately realizing that you had gone all the way to his house just to talk to him.

He looks at the girl before him. She came all the way to his house, probably to apologize, just to be met with one of his random hookups who he barely even spoke to outside his bedroom.

Jamal’s eyes widen in realization at how horribly he’d fucked up, abandoning his breakfast and rushing back up the stairs.

“Where are you going? Who is she?” The girl asks, waving her hand to get his attention, though all her calls are ignored as he shoves his way into his room to go looking for his phone, unplugging it from where it was charging on his nightstand.

His fingers rapidly dart across the screen as he types out a message, a desperate attempt at reaching you before it was too late.

[07:42] jamal: did you come over earlier? [07:43] jamal: i promise it’s not what it looks like [07:43] jamal: we can talk if you want to [07:43] jamal: just the two of us

Your phone buzzes four seperate times as you stand in line at the café down the street from your apartment building. Sometime during your walk, Noah had transferred some money into your account for both breakfast and you figured you needed the distraction.

It didn’t last long as you pulled your phone from your pocket, seeing the notifications from Jamal poured in. You shut your eyes, collecting your emotions before you shoved it back in, fixing your hair in frustration.

Out of sight, out of mind. Jamal got his chance when you were at his doorstep, willing, and he you weren’t about to give him a second. The fact that he thinks you would sets something off in you.

He watches as his texts stay on delivered. Deep down, he knows you read them through your lockscreen, and now you were choosing to deliberately ignore him. He stares at the screen in defeat, before another text comes in.

[08:01] noah: you’re coming over tomorrow night yeah?

The party. Noah had invited him and some other players to hang out before the season started, a tradition that’s persisted in the friend group for years. It’s hosted at his place this time around, a golden oppportunity.

Jamal has to talk to you.

For the first time in his life, Jamal regrets going to a party.

He’s used to having a blast, used to being the man in any room he walks into, instantly greeted by faces both familiar and unfamiliar, desperate to show him around— desperate to be seen with him.

Now, he throws his head back agains the wall of Noah’s living room, drink in hand, asking himself why he even left the house today.

Jamal arrived extra early to his friend’s place, hoping to catch you in a moment alone before it got busy. To his dismay, Noah informed him that you’d been out since the morning. Then he had to help him clean. A total nightmare.

He’s not so sure if you knew he was coming today, or just so happened to not be at home. Whatever the reasoning, he’d rather not have turned up altogether had you not been here.

While he’s drinking away his sorrows, you’re pushing him out of your mind as you spent the day with your friends. Shopping, going to the spa, more shopping, bar hopping— it was a perfect day.

Your smile quickly faded when you came home and was greeted with a crowd of men in your living room.

“Hey! You’re home,” Noah greets, pulling you into a hug. He gives you a look of guilt as he sees your eyes squint in confusion, knowing he didn’t tell you he was inviting people over.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. But I figured you’d be out the whole day!” he reasons.

“You’re so fucking annoying, I hope you know that,” you sneer, and Noah can’t fight back. You scan the crowd, seeing a few familiar faces. If it wasn’t for them, you would have cussed him out right then and there.

He knows you’re tired from going out all day, he knows you just want to rest. “Okay, listen, this isn’t anything crazy, we’re just gonna drink and talk, no loud music or inviting more people. It’s just my friends.”

Friends. You scan the crowd once more. If Noah ever mentions anything about friends, one person is almost always involved.

Jamal. You lock eyes with him, he’s been staring at you from across the room since you walked in the door. There’s a mix of anger, frustration and yearning brewing in your chest. You want to shove him down a flight of stairs. You also want to run into his arms. It’s complicated.

Noah shoves a can of beer in your hands, and you finally look away from Jamal. “Here, take this. Loosen up,” he says before leaving. You sip away your unwanted emotions and wince like it stings going down.

Knowing Jamal is here and with the intention of talking to you sparks an idea in your brain, washing a boost of confidence over your body. He can’t look away from you and you know it, and you had to take this chance in sending him a message.

Your message comes in the form of a youngster sitting on the living room couch.

“Mathys!” You approach him, arms wide to pull him in for a hug that seems a little too friendly in Jamal’s eyes. He grips his glass harder.

“Hey! When did you come in?” he asks, and you sit next to him, grazing your thigh against his. You take a big swig from the can, needing the extra tenacity.

“Not too long ago.” You start talking to Mathys about your day, striking up a normal conversation. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch glimpses of Jamal glancing at you from time to time. It’s not enough. You want him to feel the way you did when you showed up on his doorstep the other day.

Mathys was happily recounting his encounter with some rapper he’d crossed paths with when you put your hand on his leg, rubbing his thigh up and down. You leaned in to his ear, covering your mouth to avoid Jamal from reading your lips. He jumps slightly at the motion, you’re never this close to him.

“Can I tell you something?” He nods, scared but intrigued.

“I’m trying to piss Jamal off. Will you help me?” Similarly to Jamal, you and Mathys have always been close friends. He’s younger than you, so you’ve always viewed him like a little brother more than anything, but that’s not to say you don’t appreciate his company. You knew he would definitely be down to help you tonight.

Mathys pulls away, searching deep in your eyes for certainty. He discovers you’re serious.

A smirk plays on his face as he nods slowly to himself. He’s not stupid, he quickly pieces things together. If he’s being honest, he’s always known something was going on between you and Jamal anyway. “Alright, alright. Deal.” “Deal, yeah? If anything I do gets too far, just tell me,” you assure.

“Oh, don’t worry, it’ll be worth it in the end. Do what you must,” he says, winking.

It didn’t take long for the ball to start rolling. It starts off innocent — you laugh just a little too loud at one of his jokes, planting your palm on his chest as you do, playing with your hair. The small gesture has Jamal shifting uncomfortably where he stood.

It wasn’t enough.

You pull out your phone, asking Mathys if he wants a picture. He extends one arm behind you on the couch, leaning into you. Wrapping his shoulders with your free arm, you pushed your heads together, scooting closer to him, to the point where your legs were folded over his thighs. Jamal knows what you’re doing now, and it’s driving him to insanity. Yet, he stands there, unmoving.

It wasn’t enough.

The final straw came from Mathys. You tipped your drink as far back as you could, trying to get the last few sips from the can. A few stray drops landed on the corner of your mouth instead, dribbling down your chin as you raised your hand below it to make it stop.

He reaches over to catch the beer with his thumb, cupping your face, gently swiping your lips.

Jamal storms out of the living room.

Mathys takes his hand off of you immediately afterwards, and you two share a laugh, feeling achieved. “Well, he’s really pissed now,” he remarks.

“Good.”

He glances at you in curiousity at your deadpan, sly response. He had fun doing this whole tidbit with you, but he doesn’t even know why you’re doing it in the first place. “What’d he even do to you for you to do this?”

“Long story,” you say it in a way that lets him know you’re not going to go into further detail. You stand up from the couch, bag in hand. “I’ll be in my room. Thanks Mathys, that was fun.” He winks at you, clicking his tongue in response.

You made the walk to you room with your head held high in victory. The message you were delivering was definitely heard by Jamal, loud and clear. He’s not the only one that gets to mess around with whoever he wants.

You kick your heels off, throwing your bag on the floor and plopping down on the bed, scrolling on your phone. Tossing and turning, you ended up curled with your back facing the door, and that’s when it barges open.

“Hey.” You turn around, it’s Noah. You go back to scrolling on your phone.

“What do you want?” “I’m not gonna be at home tonight, yeah? Most of the guys already left anyway. Just wanted to let you know,” he says, rambling. “It’s just, work stuff…” You roll your eyes. Noah’s always been bad at keeping secrets, especially when it involves girls.

“Yes Noah, I’ll be fine alone while you go spend the night with that girl you met in Berlin. We all know you like her.” You don’t even have to look at Noah to know his mouth had fallen slack, the words being ripped from his throat.

“Man. That bad, huh?” Noah chuckles. “Alright, I’m leaving. Bye,” he says, shutting the door behind him.

A few minutes pass as you lied there unmoving. still scrolling through your feed when the door opens a second time. You hear the hinge creak open and the click of the knob as the person enters your room without saying a word.

You sit up straight, looking behind you. “Mathys? Is that y—” It’s Jamal. Daggers shoot from his eyes, watching you roll your eyes and go back to using your phone.

“What do you want, Jamal?” you groan. The fact that you’re not calling him by his usual nickname, not bothering to even spare a glance has his face contorting.

“Since when have you and Mathys been that close?” His voice is deep, interrogative, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t tense up at his tone, chills arising through your body.

You build up the courage to face him properly, sitting on the edge of your bed. “Why should I tell you about the people I’m hanging out with?”

“Hanging out?” he spits in disbelief, vitriol laced in his words.

“Yeah! Hanging out, Jamal, what’s so wrong about that? Huh?” you exclaim. You can’t believe the sheer hypocrisy in his words. “You’re one to judge, at least I was only talking to Mathys anyway.” “He had his hand around your neck and he was just gawking at your body the whole time, don’t act stupid!” he snaps back, raising his hands and dropping them to his sides.

You jump onto your feet. “At least I don’t go around fucking other girls as soon as one of them stops giving me attention!” Jamal’s eyes widen, offended. You both know what you were referring to.

“You told me you were going on a date with someone! You said he was the one — how the fuck was I supposed to know you were joking?!” He takes a few steps closer.

You struggle to find the right response, your mouth periodically opening and closing. He’s got a point. You hate that he does. “You didn’t even give me the chance to explain myself! You just stormed out of the house!”

“Yeah, of course! After hearing you say that, of course I did!” “Why?!” you ask, watching his eyes go wide, his mouth shut, unable (or maybe not wanting) to respond. “Tell me why.” Now it’s you who takes a step closer, and Jamal’s at arms length, causing you to look up at him as you speak.

He says nothing back.

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumble. You move past him, lightly bumping your shoulders together as you do to convey your anger. You need to get a drink from the kitchen, and hopefully by the time you come back, Jamal will be gone.

Just as your fingers graze the doorknob, a strong grip gets a hold of your arm. It all happened so fast. One second you were facing the door, the next — your back hit the wall, and Jamal’s lips were on yours.

The kiss was hungry, one of Jamal’s hands on the back of your head, tilting it to kiss you deeper, the other on your waist. Your arms naturally wrapped around his neck, scratching the back of his head, pulling him closer.

One of Jamal’s knees slipped between your legs, rubbing against your crotch. A breathy moan escaped your lips, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, meeting yours. It was a messy, desperate kiss — a clash of teeth and tongue, Jamal making up with his lips what he can’t with his voice.

Jamal runs his hands up and down your dress. Your dress — it’s the same one you wore a few days ago, when you first got into the argument. It’s driving him crazy and you know it, it’s evident in the way he trails his mouth lower to your neck and down to your exposed cleavage.

“Jl,” you whine, teetering on a plea. He presses his forehead against yours, watching your eyes trained on him, your lipstick smeared and loose strands flying from your hair. He don’t think he’s ever seen anything more beautiful.

“This dress looks so good on you.” It’s all he can say before he’s kissing you again, a lot softer this time around.

“Mhm. Wore it just for you,” you breathe in between kisses. “Now take it off, please.” Your voice, your words, they rush straight to his cock.

“Jump,” he instructs, and you do. Jamal walks over to your bed, plopping you on the soft pillows, his lips moulding against yours the whole time. He presses kisses lower on your neck, sucking, biting, being sure to leave a trail of purple marks for to blossom tomorrow morning.

Jamal takes the cut of your dress in his hands, pulling the fabric down, groaning at the sight of you without a bra. He wastes no time in swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud, causing you to throw your head back, wrapping your legs around his waist. He sucks and pulls with his teeth, moulding the other with his hands before switching, grinding down on your clothed core.

Once he’s satisified, he takes one last look at your tits — now glossy with his spit and marked purple, before climbing lower down your body. He bunches the material of your dress up your waist, exposing your panties to him.

Jamal takes hold of your legs, pressing a kiss to your crotch, smirking when your back arches, whining at the contact.

“Fuck, don’t tease, please.” Your hand pushes his head closer to where you’re dripping, where you want him the most.

Jamal chuckles at your desperation, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your panties, pulling them down and tossing them carelessly aside. He spreads your lips, cursing under his breath when he sees the string of wetness that’s accumulated.

“You’re soaked,” he says, planting delicate kisses to the inside of your thighs, intently watching how you jolt at each one.

“Jamal, please.” He loves it when you beg.

“Shh, I know, baby.” And he finally licks one long strip up your pussy, relishing in the way a moan is punched from your lips. You’re lucky your brother is out for the night, because he’s certain it can be heard through the walls.

He plants a few more kisses before spreading your lips, delving his tongue in your hole. Your thighs clamp shut around his head, but his strength pries them open. He alternates between fucking you with his tongue and sucking your clit, swirling figure-eights on it.

You’re a writhing mess, your throat dry from moaning and calling his name over and over. Jamal never wants to stop hearing the pretty noises you make.

He continues to push his tongue in your cunt, using his thumb to circle your clit, doubling the pleasure. He explores your walls, finding the spongy spot that punches a particularly loud moan from your throat.

“Fuck! Don’t—ah—don’t stop,” you beg, and Jamal is happy to oblige. He moans into your pussy, the vibrations rushing through your body. He feels you get wetter by the second, your juices coating his mouth and running down the sheets.

Your breathing is short and erratic, your fingers tugging at his hair as your orgasm washes over you, cumming all over Jamal’s mouth. He licks the slick running down your inner thighs, pressing some final few kisses to your clit before hovering over you, meeting your eyes.

The sight of Jamal above you is nothing short of glorious — his chin glossy from your juices, his eyes blown out and his lips plump and swollen. He can say the same for you below him, once snappy and sarcastic now panting and ruined.

You cup his cheek, adorlingly gazing into his eyes before tasting yourself on his tongue. He takes your wrists, one by one, pinning them above your head with one hand.

“Need to make sure you can take me, baby,” he coos. “Is that okay?” You nod rapidly. You’d say yes to anything if he asked.

Jamal chuckles, his free hand trailing lower down your body and finding your clit. You’re still sensitive from your last orgasm, bucking up into his hand when he does.

“J—oh.” He slips a finger into your cunt, watching the way your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw falls agape as you do. He pumps slowly at first, feeling your pinned hands try to escape his grip, but he pushes them down harder.

After a few moments, he slips another one in, filling you with two digits. “Shit,” you whine, closing your eyes shut.

“You can take it, yeah?” he asks.

“Mhm, I can take more, a lot more.” Jamal feels his cock throb in his pants, desperate to be freed. He picks up the pace, and you squirm beneath him, taking your bottom lip in your teeth.

Jamal pushes deeper, curling his fingers inside your walls. Every time he fucks into you, his palm rubs against your clit, only adding to the pleasure. Once he finds your sweet spot, he relentlessly goes faster, chasing your second orgasm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” you blabber, unable to focus on anything else than the feeling of Jamal’s fingers.

“Hey, look at me,” he instructs, and eyes shoot open on instinct, seeing his brown eyes bore into yours.

“Want to see how you look when you cum.”

You struggle in keeping your eyes open but do so to the best of your ability, your chest heaving up and down as your moans get more sporadic. Jamal is lost in your eyes, his wrist starting to tire from his movements. After one rough push of his hands, shockwaves rippling through your body as your second orgasm washes over you.

Slick runs down your thighs, onto the bedsheets and on Jamal’s wrist. He pulls out, causing you to whimper at the loss of contact before he licks them clean, tasting every last drop. Jamal sits up on his heels and you follow suit, kneeling in front of him. You grab the hem of his shirt, quickly pushing it up and over his head, exposing his torso. You’re entranced by his physique, trailing your nails down his chest and abs. His hand cups your cheek, pulling you into a kiss.

“Fuck me, J,” you plead in between kisses, and how could he say no?

“Get on all fours.” You flip over, arching your back, hanging your ass in the air for him. You hear the clink of his belt as he pulls down his trousers, watching from over your shoulder.

“I told you to take my dress off,” you remind him, lightening the mood a bit. You have to stifle back a moan as he spreads your ass, pulling you flush against the shape of his bulge, lowly moaning when he does.

Jamal pauses for a moment. “Nah.” He pulls his boxers down, taking his cock in his hands, hard and throbbing, jerking himself off before aligning the tip with your pussy.

“Wanna fuck you in it.”

He slides his cock up and down your slit before pushing into you in one long stroke. A long moan is drawn from your throat as your head drops, feeling him slowly stretch you out, stopping until his pelvis was flush with your ass.

It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, hearing Jamal whisper soft praises as he grips your hips, rolling his slowly to help. Once you do, he pulls back out, only living the tip in your cunt, before slamming back in and finding a rhythm.

“Shit,” you spit through a mix of moans and curses, feeling him push into you over, and over, and over. After a particulary rough snap of his hips, your elbows give out under you, causing you to bury your face in the sheets, arching your back harder.

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” You hear Jamal breathe from behind you. His eyes are trained on where you’re taking him raw, seeing the glossy sheen coat his shaft, glowing underneath your bedroom lights.

His hands are rough where he gropes, alternating between bunching your dress up higher, spreading your ass and gripping your hips, slamming you against him harder.

Jamal pulls you up to his chest, one hand loosely hanging around your neck. You can barely process the change of position until you feel his bare chest flush against your back.

His lips curl into a smirk, watching your mouth slightly open, the filthiest of sounds pouring out into his ears, spit welling in its corners. Your eyes struggle to stay open, your head lulling on his shoulder.

“Don’t—ah—don’t stop, please,” you blabber, drunk on his hips snapping up into you.

Jamal plants a featherlight kiss on your temple. “Never.” He plants another. “So good, so good for me.”

He moulds his lips against yours, a messy clash of teeth and tongue. You struggle to kiss back, only whining into his mouth.

The knot in your stomach grows tighter by the second, your moans getting increasingly higher pitched by the second, your face contorting in pleasure. You’re close, Jamal knows it too.

“I’m close, fuck.” You reach out to him behind you, trying to lock him in place so he doesn’t stop. Not like he was planning on it, anyway.

Jamal twitches inside you, and you know he’s close too. His thrusts get sloppier, more sporadic, chasing your high before his own. “Cum for me, go on,” he coos, lips ghosting over your earlobe.

He reaches around your torso, his fingers finding your clit, circling figure-eights. It’s all it takes for your orgasm to wash over you in waves, sending your thighs shaking. Jamal doesn’t stop, he fucks you through it all, pressing kisses on your neck and shoulder, fingers still trained between your thighs. Jamal pulls out, causing you to hiss at the sudden sensation of being empty. You’re spent, chest heaving and sticky with sweat, but you still find the energy to turn around, facing him. He’s jerking himself off in his hands, his cock red and throbbing, begging for a release.

You look up at him with mischievous eyes, his own watching your every move. You pull your dress up and over your head, leaving yourself bare in front of him, sitting on your heels.

Jamal kneels high above you, groaning when he watches you push your tits together, inviting him closer. His head tips back when you stick your tongue out, kitten licking the tip of his cock, tasting the precum dripping from its head.

Strings of white liquid are painted across your chest as Jamal cums, shuddering. You feel some hit your chin, darting your tongue to get a taste, never breaking eye contact.

He cups your chin, pressing his lips onto yours, leaving chaste kisses. You both stay like that for a while, lazily making out, smiling against each other’s lips.

Jamal plants one final kiss before pulling away. “Stay here, I’ll get you cleaned up.” He walks in your bathroom, leaving with a towel and a water bottle he’d found somewhere not long after.

You let him gently swipe the towel against your chest, his hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing back and forth against your skin. While you two sat in silence, it wasn’t an awkward one, far from it. It was comforting. It felt familiar, this domesticity. It felt natural.

You don’t say anything when he pulls you to lay on his chest. You don’t say anything when he pulls the blanket over you two, turning off the lights. You just focus on his heartbeat.

A throbbing headache has been your alarm these past few mornings, and today is no different.

The sunlight spills through the cracks in your curtains, bleeding through your shut eyelids. You slowly ease into consciousness, sitting up and rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand.

The first thing that hits you is the cold. A shiver runs through your body, instinctively pulling the blanket closer to you.

The second thing that hits you is your lack of clothes. You blink away the drowsiness, examining yourself, completely bare. Peculiar, but not unfamiliar.

The third thing that hits you is the weight on the opposite side of your bed when you yank the comforter. Your eyes widen at the sight of an undressed Jamal, blanket only covering so much, stirring awake next to you. His toned abs in full display, glowing golden in the sunlight.

It doesn’t take long for your brain to floor your memories of recollections from last night. You wince, face scrunching in disbelief as the images flashed in your head one by one. What were you thinking?

You bend down to grab the first article of clothing you could find — Jamal’s shirt. Not ideal but it’ll do. You put it on to cover yourself, standing up with the plan of getting as far away from him as possible.

A strong grip on your arm stops your plans.

Jamal calls your name, voice gruff and thick with the early morning. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy the sound.

“Where are you headed?” he asks, adoringly.

No. This is wrong. You can’t think of him that way, someone who’s supposed to be irrevocably off-limits — so you get right to the point.

“Jamal.” His eyebrows furrow at the sound of you calling his full name. You’re never in a good mood when you do. “This, this cant… we can’t…” You watch him look up at you like he was expecting this from a mile away.

With one pull, he tugs you back in bed, causing you to sit on his lap, albeit not fully. You don’t want to run away from him, deep down you know you don’t, and he knows that too.

“Why? You scared of Noah?”

You’re not sure how to respond.

“This isn’t even, I mean, we’re not even…” you struggle to string the right words together.

Jamal cups your cheek and you melt into his touch. Your words say one thing but your body suggests another.

“I like you, I really do. I know I didn’t get the chance to say it last night,” he assures. You feel your cheeks heat at the sudden confession. “I don’t want to see you with someone else. I don’t want to act like I’m perfectly fine when you bring up some other guy.” You look deep into his eyes with a look that says, me too. After last night you knew you and Jamal would never be the same, for better or for worse. You pick the former.

“And especially not Mathys, Jesus.” You chuckle, finally lightening up. “Out of all the people you wanted to use to make me jealous, you chose him. Blegh.”

The giggles leaving your chest are unabashed the second time around. “Well, it worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah, and it sucked.” Jamal’s palm lets go of your face, dropping down to take your hand in his. He resumes to his original point. “I want this, okay? I want to wake up next to you every morning. I want to see you in my shirt every day,” he says while fumbling with the hem of his shirt hanging off your frame.

“I want you.”

You wrap an arm around his shoulder, pulling him in closer, this time properly sitting on his lap. “Never took you for such a romantic, J.”

He stifles in a laugh, pressing his forehead against yours before closing the gap. You’re finally his.

#@s6lars #@s6lars: jm42 #football x reader #football imagines #football x you #football x y/n #football smut #jamal musiala x reader #jamal musiala imagines #jamal musiala headcanons #jamal musiala drabbles #jamal musiala fluff #jamal musiala smut #jamal musiala one shot #jamal musiala blurb

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tip-top-cloud-surfer · 8 months

Text

The Danger Zone (Part 19) - Hangman

Pairing: Hangman / Fem!Bradshaw!Reader | OC

Word Count: 4.1k

This work, all my works, and my entire blog are 18+ ONLY.

Warnings: Unplanned Pregnancy; Military Inaccuracies; Medical Inaccuracies; Crying; Deployments; Use of "You," No Use of Y/N, No Set Physical Description

Summary: Life goes on, even though Jake is still deployed.

Series Master List

Master List

Standing in the bathroom, you applied the final touches to your makeup and hair. Sarah had been kind enough to host your baby shower and you were currently trying to think of gifts to get her, Penny, Emma, and Phoenix to thank them for the party.

You put on a pair of earrings that used to belong to your mom. You were getting more and more sentimental and found yourself wearing your mom’s jewelry around more. Heading out to the kitchen, you greeted Mav, who was supposed to drive you.

“You’re not hiding the fact that you know?” Maverick asked, gesturing to your pink dress.

“No, what’s the point?” you replied with a shrug, walking over to your shoes. Sliding on a pair of flats, you added, “Jake knows and that’s all I care about.”

“Well, let’s get going. I’m pretty sure that Penny will have my head if you’re late.”

After a short drive, Maverick pulled into the Kazansky’s driveway. You slowly slid out of the car despite Maverick’s offer to help you and walked into the house. Heading down the hall into the main space, you paused at the entrance.

The room had pink ribbons draped all around. Balloons decorated the corners and streamers framed the windows. They set up tables along the wall and there were already trays of pink cupcakes and other desserts on one of them. Emma and Phoenix were unboxing the catering in the kitchen and Sarah and Penny were finishing up some of the decorations.

“There she is,” Penny called, straightening up. “Happy Baby Shower!” She walked over and pulled you into a hug that you happily returned. “Are you excited?”

“I’m hoping that something interesting happens,” you replied with a small smile. “Thanks for doing all of this for me. And thank you Sarah for hosting.”

“Oh, please, I used to host the most ridiculous naval events here. At least this is a party I’ll actually enjoy,” Sarah mused, accepting your hug with a bright smile. “How’s Baby Girl doing?”

“She’s been pretty quiet today. So, she’ll decide to kick me when I’m least in the mood for it.”

“Are you hungry?” Phoenix asked, walking over and holding out a plate of food to you. “Everything is safe for you to have. Except for the booze, of course.”

“Thanks,” you mused, picking up an hors devour from the plate.

You ate quietly as they walked you through the whole set up. And you quietly kept grabbing little snacks along the way. Staring around at the whole set up, you turned to your family.

“You guys didn’t have to do all of this stuff for me.”

“Don’t start that. You deserve a nice baby shower and you’re getting a nice baby shower,” Phoenix stated firmly, causing you to nod and smile.

“Do you guys need help with anything?”

“No, grab a drink and go relax. People should start getting here in about twenty minutes.”

It wasn’t a huge baby shower, at least compared to some that you had been to before, but you saw so many faces that you hadn’t seen in years. Emma really went through your whole list of contacts. But speaking of Emma, you hadn’t seen much of her.

“Where’s Emma?” you asked Bradley, walking over to where he was standing.

“She ran out to grab something.”

“Is she alright?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah, she just hasn’t been feeling well lately,” Bradley explained, a note of worry in his tone. “I told her to stay home, but she insisted on coming.”

“Did she go to a doctor?”

“She has an appointment for next week,” Bradley explained quietly. “Thursday. I told her just to go to urgent care or the hospital even if she feels that sick, but she said she wanted to wait. And I don’t want to upset her.”

“I’ll talk to her when she gets back.”

“She’ll just tell you to focus on your party,” Bradley reminded you, but you simply smiled.

“Exactly. It’ll just be part of your gift to me.”

“You couldn’t have told me that before I spent three hours in a baby store for you?”

“Did I mention how I appreciate how supportive you are?” you remarked sarcastically, patting your brother on the shoulder before moving on.

Making your way through the crowd of people to head back inside to be in the air conditioning and to grab some more food, you looked up to see Maverick talking with a group of familiar aviators in the corner of the yard. You turned a bit and made your way over to greet them.

“Well, here’s the woman of the hour,” Maverick announced, causing all of them to turn to you.

“Hi, everyone,” you stated, waving to them. “I wasn’t expecting any of you to make it.” Turning to the man closest to you, you offered him a hug. “How’d you get the time off of work, Uncle Slider? I would have thought you would be flying now.”

“I timed my flights and got an extended layover in San Diego,” Slider replied, returning your hug.

With the exception of Maverick and Iceman, Slider was the aviator who spent the most time with your family. Especially because he retired earlier than either Mav or Ice had. He didn’t have the stories about your dad that Maverick did nor did he provide the same sort of stability that Ice did with Sarah and his family, but he was a pillar in your childhood.

“I thought you said you would stay away from naval aviators,” he joked, gesturing to your bump.

“I know,” you laughed, resting a hand on your back. “But we all make exceptions for the right people.”

“And is it true that you got married already?”

“Right before he left,” you agreed, showing your rings. “It was both a shotgun and a pre-deployment wedding all in one.”

“Well, you know if he ever wants to fly commercially, I can get him in no problem,” Slider offered, causing you to smile.

“Thanks, but I think Jake’s the type to be forced to retire from the Navy.”

“He’s been spending too much time around Mav then?” Slider guessed, nudging Maverick in the side jokingly. “I still can’t believe that you’re actually retired now.”

“Well, I’m needed here now,” Maverick replied, glancing over at you. “And I’d like to enjoy the rest of my time with the kids and Penny.”

As Maverick and Slider continued to talk, you moved around the group. Thanking Hollywood and Wolfman for driving down, you turned to Viper and his wife, who still lived locally despite Viper’s retirement over two decades now.

“It’s been so long,” you remarked, pulling Viper’s wife Linda in for a hug. “How are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry about us. Look at you! You’re so big now,” Linda called, causing Slider to snort. “And pink! You’re having a girl then?”

“Yeah, we’re having a little girl,” you confirmed with a proud smile.

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you.” Turning to Viper, you moved to give him a hug. “And how are we, Admiral?”

“Still strong,” Viper reported, offering you a smile. “And we’re very glad to hear that Jake finally took his responsibilities seriously.”

“Oh?” you asked, confused.

“Marrying you, dear,” Linda explained with a smile.

“Taking responsibility for his actions,” Viper stated bluntly, causing your eyes to widen.

“Right,” you trailed off, nodding with a polite smile.

“Why don’t we see if we can find Bradley then?” Maverick suggested, stepping up beside you. “He’s separating from the Navy, you know.”

“After the hissy fit that he threw about getting in, he’s just leaving like that?” Viper barked out, causing his wife to admonish him.

You shared an amused look with Slider before you headed inside. Chatting with Phoenix and Coyote, you paused when you saw a stressed-looking Emma walk into the kitchen with a few bags. You walked into the kitchen as well, cautiously approaching your obviously skittish sister-in-law.

"Emma?" you called, causing her to whip around.

"Hey, did you need something?" she asked, unpacking a bag.

"No, but did you?" you offered, moving to stand beside her. "You look a little stressed and I don't want you to worry about the party anymore. It's amazing."

"I'm not stressed about the party. I'm just . . . stressed," Emma sighed, avoiding eye contact.

"Is it something with the house?"

"No, it's all fine."

"Is it my stupid brother?"

"No," Emma replied quietly. "Where is he anyway?"

"Getting a lecture from Viper, I think," you stated, glancing out the window. Turning back to Emma, you offered, "You know, I'm here for you. And forget the fact that this is my party. I'm honestly just trying to stay busy so that I can ignore the fact that Jake isn't here."

Emma gave you a sympathetic look and sighed. Looking around, she slowly turned back to you.

"I don't want to ruin your party."

"The Navy ruined my party. What's bothering you?"

"I'm . . . late."

"Late for what?"

Emma shot you a look.

"Oh, sorry. Wait, how late? Like a day?"

"More like . . . sixteen," Emma replied, causing your eyes to widen.

"Have you taken a test?"

"Not yet."

"Go get one."

"I have one. I bought it at the store a month ago and it's been sitting in my glove compartment ever since. But it's your party. Today isn't about me, it's about you and your baby," Emma reminded you quietly. "I'm not going to take the test."

"Even if I tell you that you should," you stated, causing Emma to sigh. "Or at least do it when you get home." After a moment, you asked, "Why have you been avoiding it for this long? You bought the test a month ago and you still haven't taken it?"

"Because then it becomes real," Emma replied, not meeting your gaze. "And we had our plan. We were going to start trying after Bradley separated from the Navy and settled into his new job. And a lot can go wrong in the first few weeks . . . I'm just trying to process it some more."

"Have you told him yet?" Emma shook her head slowly and you offered her a supportive smile in return. "Look, whatever happens, Bradley loves you and I love you and we’ll all be here to support you. And, hey, at least your dad already got the whole threatening phase out of his system. It's smooth sailing in that department."

Emma managed a soft chuckle at the memories, closing her eyes for a moment. The two of you turned when you heard footsteps. Bradley stepped into the kitchen with his sights set on you.

“Penny said it’s time to open presents.”

“Alright, I'll go out there."

You shared a glance with Emma, who nodded quietly, before moving to move past your brother. But before you could make it too far, Bradley gave you a lightly annoyed look.

“And please don't send anyone else to give me a lecture today. Because I barely survived the last one.”

“Viper found you then?” you asked, amused.

“And then talked my ear off with the most disappointed dad look I’ve seen in years.”

“Well, it was either you or me, and it's my party, so it had to be you.”

Glancing between Bradley and Emma, who was already staring at her husband, you headed outside to open your presents. They were all lined up for you by the time that you arrived, and Penny was there to hand you your presents.

Penny and Maverick bought you a beautiful crib. Sarah got you a bassinet and told you that her kids loved it for their own kids. Javy and Nat bought what seemed to be an industrial stroller—Javy insisted that it was going to be necessary given your child’s genes. And you got piles of baby clothes of various sizes, diapers, and some formula.

“And this one seems to be from Emma and Bradley,” Penny stated, handing you a card. “But I don’t know where they are.”

“I think they’re setting up the cake,” you lied, opening the card. Inside was a picture of a rocking chair and an order slip with a promise to have it delivered to your new house. “They got me a rocking chair.”

You were folding a set of baby onesies when Javy walked over with another box for you. You were a little confused but took the present from him anyways.

“You already gave me a gift, Javy. What’s this?”

“See who it’s from,” he replied, before moving to take his seat next to Phoenix.

You flipped the box over and when you read Jake’s name, albeit in Javy’s handwriting, you looked up suddenly. Locking eyes with Javy, who motioned for you to open it, you quickly tore through the wrapping paper. Pulling out a box, you opened it and gently set the cover aside when you saw a photo album inside.

You ran your finger down the leather spine before slow opening the cover. The inside cover was plain, but it had a printed-out email from Jake laid over the top. Picking it up, you smiled to yourself as you read through his short message.

To My Beautiful Wife,

I know that the best gift that I could give you would be being by your side today and every other day, but this is the next best thing that I could think of. Admittedly, this wasn’t actually my idea, though I’m still going to take credit for it, but here’s a collection of memories over the last year. But there’s still plenty of space for the years to come and new memories that we have yet to make together.

I miss you and I love you so much. And tell Baby Girl that I’ll be home soon to feel her kick.

Love,

Your Smoking Hot Husband

“Well,” you croaked out, placing the paper down. “I think I’ll open it later because I don’t want to start sobbing right now.”

“Who wants cake?” Maverick suggested loudly.

You smiled as you wiped a tear away, trying to stay positive. Phoenix walked inside the house to go and grab the cake as Maverick squeezed you into his side.

~~~~~

Jake sat out on the deck of the carrier, staring down at a photo of you and your bump.

It had been about two months since he left you behind and he was counting down the days until he could be there with you and your baby again. There was some talk of a few aviators in his program returning back to the States soon and Jake was doing everything that he could to make sure that he was on that list.

The sun was starting to set below the waves, casting an orange glow over the ship. The steady sea breeze dried the tears on his cheeks, but Jake didn’t move from his spot. Your due date was in three weeks and even though he read that first children were typically born later; he knew that your daughter was a stubborn one and moved to the beat of her own drum.

She would come when she wanted. Not when it was convenient.

“Do you think you can wait just a little longer?” Jake asked the photo of your bump softly. “You know, we still haven’t picked a name for you yet, so if you want a normal name, you should give us a little more time to decide, alright?”

Leaning back against the wall, Jake stared out in the direction of California. He always made sure to know what direction home was. After a moment, Jake pursed his lips together and took a breath.

“I’m coming home. I promise.”

~~~~~

“And just sign there on the bottom line,” your realtor instructed you, handing over a pen.

You slowly signed your name to officially buy your first home. It was also the first time that you fully wrote out your surname as ‘Bradshaw-Seresin,’ but that just left an even more bitter taste in your mouth. It was supposed to be a happy moment, a triumph, a celebration to buy your first family home.

But without Jake here, it just felt like a hollow victory.

“Congratulations, you’re officially a homeowner,” your realtor replied with a kind smile.

“Thank you.”

Your realtor walked off, leaving you standing alone in the middle of your new home. And when the door shut and the sound echoed around the empty space, you instinctively held your new keys to your chest. Bradley and Maverick were coordinating everything to get your apartment officially packed up and brought over. You would have to return to the apartment to return the keys and everything, but you weren't in a rush.

Walking through the house, you silently took in the moment. You ran your hand along the wall as you headed to the front of the house. Slowly stepping up onto the bottom stairs, you rested your hands on your bump.

“Welcome home, Baby Girl,” you murmured, pressing your hand to where she was kicking.

You texted Bradley that everything was signed, and it was time to bring the truck over. You would have moved to unpack the baby stuff that Maverick shoved into your car earlier that morning, but you knew that you would have given Maverick a heart attack if you did, so you simply waited for everyone to arrive.

A knock at the door made you turn to see Emma waving to you through the glass. You slowly waddled over to the door to let her into your home.

“Morning,” she greeted, pulling you in for a hug. She straightened up and offered you a bag. “I brought you breakfast.”

The two of you sat on the lawn furniture that the sellers left for you as part of the sale. You kicked your swollen feet up and balanced your breakfast on your bump, leaning heavily on the couch. Bradley and Maverick, with some help from the other Daggers and other friends, were currently moving your boxes into the house.

“Are you sure that you don’t want to supervise that at all?" Emma asked you, a bit worriedly.

"It's fine," you murmured, dismissing her concerns. "There's no point in fully unpacking. Minus our bedroom, the kitchen, and the baby stuff. We still have to paint and buy new furniture."

“Alright,” Emma replied, not trying to push you.

The topic of your clear mood shift was becoming an increasingly common conversation among your friends and family. Your due date was growing closer, and you were making more and more comments that concerned them. Or tasks that you refused to do without Jake there beside you.

And everyone was quietly worried about what would happen if you went into labor and Jake wasn't home yet. If it was time for your daughter to come out, it was time for her to come out.

“Has she been moving around a lot?” Emma asked conversationally.

“Yes,” you sighed, sounding exhausted. “She kicked my ribs yesterday and knocked the wind out of me.” Offering a small smile to Emma, you added, “Things for you to look forward to.”

“I’m trying to survive the first trimester,” Emma chuckled nervously.

“I hope you have a girl too,” you spoke softly with a smile, resting your hands on your bump. “They’re only going to be about six or seven months apart.”

“I know. But I think we’re going to wait until they're born to find out. My sisters did and my parents were always so excited to find out at the hospital, so I want to do that with our baby.”

“Have you told any of them that you’re expecting?”

“No, not yet. We’re going to take a trip up to see them after you have your baby and we’ll tell them then. I wanted to do it in person.”

You smiled and nodded, finishing up your breakfast. After chatting for a little bit more, you headed inside the house for the cooler air. You were temporarily living in the first-floor guest bedroom and that room was your main priority.

“Did you want all of it in the nursery or down here?” Phoenix asked, setting down the last box of baby stuff.

“Down here is fine for now.”

“Did you want us to set up anything for you?” Javy asked, standing beside his wife.

“No, I’m alright. We already got the car seat installed and that’s the most important thing right now. We can put together the rest of it when Jake gets home.” Slowly standing up again, you sent Javy and Phoenix a small smile. “Thanks for your help.”

As you waddled off to the kitchen to help Penny and Maverick, Phoenix and Coyote shared a concerned look.

“She’s not herself,” Coyote told his wife quietly.

"She's in her last trimester and her first few months of marriage. And her husband isn't here." Phoenix sighed, watching you with concern. "And everyone has their breaking point."

~~~~~

Dear Jake,

We moved into the house today. Maverick is sleeping on the sofa to keep an eye on me. I think that he thinks that I’m going to go into labor soon. Which I’m not. Baby Girl is snug and comfortable, and I have a feeling that she’s going to take her time coming out. Bradley and I were both late babies, so I’m sure that she’ll follow the trend.

I had them leave all of the baby stuff on the first floor for now. We can set up the nursery when you’re home with us. It didn’t feel right setting it up without you here.

Baby Girl is keeping me up again. She’s been kicking and now she’s even ignoring your warnings to go to bed. I have a feeling that she’s going to be payback for all of the crap that I put my mom and Mav through. Isn’t that what they say anyways?

I miss you. Come home soon and safely.

Love,

Your Wife

~~~~~

At nearly thirty-nine weeks pregnant, there was no other way to describe your existence beside ‘uncomfortable.’ You were pretty sure that you resembled a penguin or a seal lion with the stupid way that your bump made you walk. And your stomach had ballooned out to make you look all the more ridiculous as you went through the last few days of your pregnancy.

And fucking hell, your back was killing you.

“Why don’t you sit down?” Maverick suggested as you wiped down the countertops. “You’ve been walking around all morning.”

“I'm fine, Mav.”

“Did you sleep well last night?”

“No,” you muttered, tossing the paper towel into the trash. “I couldn’t get comfortable.”

“Maybe you should try taking a nap.”

“I’m fine, Mav,” you repeated as the laundry machine went off. Waddling over despite Maverick's call that he could fold the laundry, you rested a hand on your back. “I'm just a little restless.”

“I’ll fold all of that. You should eat.”

Sending Maverick an annoyed look, you handed off the laundry and made you way over to the couch. While Maverick was focused on the laundry, you let out a quiet moan of pain, leaning having on the couch. Resting your hand on your back, you took a few deep breaths before sitting down. You kicked your feet up just as Penny walked through the door.

“How are you feeling today, Mama?” Penny asked, walking over to you with a container of food.

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.”

“You’re in the final stretch now," Penny assured you, offering a maternal smile. "And I brought you some food. It shouldn’t get your heartburn to act up.”

“Thanks.”

Slowly getting up from the couch, you made your way over to the table. Maverick walked over and held the chair for you as you sat down. He had turned into a bit of a helicopter parent over the last week or so and you were too tired to fight him on it. You managed a few bites, before you got up.

"You don't want anymore?"

"I'll be back," you replied, waddling away. "Just need to . . ."

You froze when a gush of liquid suddenly soaked your shorts and pooled on the floor below you. Clutching your bump in fear, you gave Penny and Mav a deer in the headlights look that caused them to jump up and spring into action. Mav steadied you carefully as Penny slowly assessed the situation.

“Okay, it looks like your water just broke. We need to get you to the hospital. The baby’s coming.”

And you couldn’t help but immediately burst out into tears.

A.N. And the baby's coming! But just wanted to give everyone a heads up that this story does not end once the baby is born. There's still more to come. Thanks, and I hope you'll stick around for more!

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yixingsslipons · 2 days

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bomb party jewelry October collection reveal, kickstarter campaign plus unboxing, and doh kyungsoo “bloom” fancon merch unboxing

youtube

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probablyasocialecologist · 7 months

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In November, the Palestinian singer Hamada Nasrallah was shocked to discover a TikTok of a soldier playing the guitar that his father had bought him 15 years earlier. Other videos uploaded to social media in recent months show Israeli soldiers boasting about finding wristwatches; unboxing someone’s collection of soccer shirts; and stealing rugs, groceries, and jewelry. In a Facebook group for Israeli women comprising nearly 100,000 users, someone wondered what to do with the “gifts from Gaza” that her partner, a soldier, had brought back for her. Sharing a photo of cosmetic products, she wrote: “Everything is sealed except for one product. Would you use these? And does someone know the products or are they only in Gaza?” Indeed, since the start of Israel’s ground invasion in late October, soldiers have been taking whatever they can get their hands on from the homes of Palestinians who have been forced to flee. More than an open secret, the phenomenon has been widely — and uncritically — reported in the Israeli media, while rabbis from the Religious Zionist movement have been answering soldiers’ questions about what is permissible to loot according to Jewish law. Soldiers who returned from fighting in Gaza confirmed to +972 Magazine and Local Call that the phenomenon is ubiquitous, and that for the most part their commanders are allowing it to happen. “People took things — mugs, books, each one the souvenir that does it for him,” said one soldier, who admitted that he himself took a “souvenir” from one of the medical centers that the army occupied.

#israel #palestine #gaza #zionism #IDF #Purity of arms

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thebearer · 1 year

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some carm + jewelry thoughts after reading your blurb about his dangling chain:

-he buys you a gold anklet with a “c” charm on it so he can watch it dangle when he puts your legs up on his shoulders to fuck you

-he has a signet ring embossed with a design (maybe a bear? st anthony? family crest?) and he turns it so the design is facing inwards and he spanks you so it leaves a brand on your ass

-after the big checks start coming in he buys you an exorbitantly expensive necklace and fucks you with nothing else on

omfggggg smut ahead minors dni 18+ but i have to elaborate

ok number one the anklet???? yes. yes. yes.

you mention wanting one, sorta in passing, and carmen's like weirdly adamant about you getting one lol??? you don't really understand why but he shows up a few days later with one you'd shown him online, except it has an embellishment. a tiny 'c'.

carmen's kinda blushy about it but you're beaming and squealing and just smothering him in affection bc it was so cute and sweet, and he really was too!!

then you quickly realize why carmen likes the anklet so much when he's putting it on you, then your legs are up in the air thirty minutes later as a "thank you".

your heels are digging into his shoulders, and normally his eyes are on you solely when he's fucking you especially like this. but you keep catching him staring at your anklet, fucking you hard, gripping your claves while he watches it bounce lightly.

maybe it's the thought that he has a sorta mark on you now. wherever you go, you've got something that symbolizes your his- that he's yours.

it was his grandfathers, then mikey's, and then his. mikey gave it to him when carmen went to new york because "you're a big shot now. need the ring to match since you're gonna be goin' to all that fancy shit, carm."

the ring was gold with a black onyx surface, a gold encrusted 'B' in old english font laid on top so it stood up. carmen didn't wear it often, didn't want to lose it or damage it, but every now and then- on date night, mainly, he'd wear it.

and you loved it.

the chain, nice outfit, plus pinky ring? you were drooling. watching him grab the door handle, cut your food, hold your hand in the car. you couldn't help yourself. he knew you couldn't either. it's why when you got home, he just nodded and you were over his lap.

carmen would take his time pushing up your dress, letting his hand glide over the small of your back, down your exposed cheeks, smug at the way you shuddered in excitement. he'd turn the ring around so the etched side was inwards, cracking his hand down on your ass over and over.

you'd squirm and mewl, gripping onto his legs or the sheets. carmen would just stare, mesmerized by the faint emblem showing on your skin only for a flash before fading.

the bear had made the chicago tribune after a raving review from a lifestyle travel influencer posted a video on the menu and it went wild. you were booked a year out, a waitlist a mile long, a million newspapers, magazines, and interviewers wanting a chance to write about the bear. it was buzzing around chicago, and carmen couldn't be happier. or busier.

he felt bad that with the newfound press, he'd been busy. you'd always been understanding but still, he felt bad, heart breaking every time your shoulders would fall when he said he had to work.

the two of you had just moved into the brownstone. you spent your days decorating and unboxing, showing him swatches of paint that you'd mull over for hours.

"carm, which one looks better?" you'd ask, turning around to see him standing there. only this time, he wasn't empty handed.

the infamous teal bag in hand, grinning at you proudly. "what's this?"

"a gift." carmen shrugged, pulling you over to the couch, setting you between his thighs.

you hummed, unraveling the tiny box. "you really didn't have to get me- oh my god." you were expecting a tiny piece of jewelry, not the dazzling strand of diamonds that sat on the tennis bracelet.

"carmen." you gaped, snapping the box shut, holding it against your chest. "how-how much was this?"

"doesn't matter." carmen shrugged, prying it gently out of your grasp. "let me put it on you. i wanted to get you somethin'. the restaurant is doin'... great. and ya know, i couldn't do it without you baby."

you pressed him about the price, but carmen waived it off. you knew he'd been making money- your new house and car told you that, but the kind of money to casually get gifts at tiffany's? it was new to you. a splurge still, but one that you treasured.

carmen left the necklace on, hips rolling while he fucked you in front of the fireplace, right on the new rug. he wanted to take a picture of the moment, watching you ride him, your head tipped back, diamonds sparkling still even in the low glow of the fire.

#thebearer #carmen berzatto #bearblahs #carmy berzatto #the bear #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto fic #carmy smut #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x reader #the bear fx #carmy the bear #the bear season 2 #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto fluff

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swisccfinds · 9 months

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TOP 5 MUST HAVE Sims 4 Career Mods

These are my most personal Career mods for the sims 4, please don't forget to show love and support to the creators.

1- Youtube Career Mod by itsmeTroiYT

There is so many interactions with this mod it is unbelievable! If you head to the download button below it will bring you to the creator's post which will show all the type of things you can do with this mod but for now to keep the Tumblr photo limit here is some of the creator's notes that explain the levels and the branches

Gamer (6-10) PC Noob $100/hr Streamer $200/hr Daily Uploader $300/hr Tagline Genius $600/hr Prestige Gamer $1500/hr

Vlogger (6-10) Viner $100/hr Prank Wars Vlogger $200/hr Unbox Therapy $300/hr Vlogger $600/hr Daily Vlogger $1600/hr

DIY Hot Glue Gun Mess $250/hr Creative Weirdo $350/hr Hacks Master $600/hr DIY Superstar $650/hr [Something] DIY $1500/hr

MUA Fenty Beauty Counter Rep $200/hr Brand Tester $300/hr Makeup Brand Collab $350/hr Personal Makeup Artist $750/hr MUA $1500/hr

Cooking One Pan Cook $150/hr Made from TV/Movies $300/hr Remixed Recipe Cook $345/hr Guest Host Cook $625/hr Master Cook $1500/hr

FX Makeup Artist NYX Face Awards $120/hr Halloween Royalty $200/hr FX on a Budget $350/hr Workshop Personality $645/hr Glam & Gore $1450/hr

download

2- Modeling Career Mod by KPC0528

This is an amazing mod! If you want your sim to become a model this is the mod for you! This does require the City living & Get Famous expansion packs, so be aware. Here are the creator's notes about the levels and branches;

1. Volunteer Model--there is no pay for the beginning of this career. I wanted to make it as realistic as possible, so level 1 is all about building a portfolio and gaining exposure. Mood: Confident M - W - F S S

2. Local Model -- Your sim will be part of the "mall crowd" participating in local fashion shows. These jobs aren't very selective... $15/hr. Skills: Charisma 1 Mood: Confident - T - T F S S

3. Hand Model-- Keep those hands soft and supple as your sims model rings, bracelets, and watches for local jewelry designers! $18/hr. Skills: Charisma 2 Mood: Confident - T - T F S S

4. Hair Model-- Cutting, coloring, styling. Your Sims's hair will be put through it all in exchange for some simoleons and their pictures to be featured in hair dressers' portfolios. $20/hr. Skills: Charisma 3, Fitness 3 Mood: Confident - T - T F S S

Choose track: Commercial Model or High Fashion Model

Commercial Model track: Commercial models are the models you would see in shopping catalogs and local commercials. The sim-next-door look is desired, so your sim will need attractive looks as well as an attractive personality to do well in this career track.

5. Commercial Catalog Model--Your sim will be showcasing the newest collections by the most popular stores, like Sim Navy and JC Simmy. $50/hr. Skills: Charisma 4, Fitness 4 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

6. Fitness Model-- Fitness is the name of the game here. Your sim must continue to sculpt his/her body to perfection in order to sell the newest workout gear and sports drinks. $65/hr. Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 7 Mood: Energetic M T W T - S -

7. Social Media Model-- Your sim's face is getting popular online! He/she will be modeling the hottest makeup, jewelry, and clothing through various social media platforms like Simstagram. $80/hr. Skills: Charisma 7 Mood: Confident - - W - F S S

8. Music Video Model-- Who wouldn't want to be a model in a famous music video? Your sim must hone in their dance skills so they don't embarrass themselves in front of the musical superstars.... $90/hr. Skills: Charisma 8, Dancing 3 Mood: Confident M T - T F S - 9. Television Model-- Television! Your sim will be featured on all sorts of commercials, from clothing and perfume, to cookware and living room furniture. $130/hr. Skills: Charisma 10 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

10. Coversim-- The ultimate goal! Your sim is on every grocery store magazine rack, dishing the newest gossip about his/her love life, as well as modeling the hippest designs. Congrats, superstar! $300/hr. Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

High Fashion Model track: This track is for the serious fashionista. In order to gain celebrity as a high fashion model, your sim must be both gorgeous and interesting, as well as charismatic and athletic. Reaching the end of this track means worldwide fame and luxury! 5. Swimsuit Model-- Swimsuit models are photographed even in the winter months, so this isn't just for fun! Your sim must be in excellent shape to make it as a swimsuit model. $55/hr. Skills: Charisma 5, Fitness 6 Mood: Flirty M T W - F S -

6. Lingerie Model-- No room for shy sims here! Upscale lingerie is a mega-money-making business, so only the most alluring sims will be successful. $75/hr. Skills: Charisma 6, Fitness 8 Mood: Flirty M T W - F S -

7. Fashion Catalog Model-- High-end fashion is extremely expensive, so the stakes are high. Your sim must continue to perfect his/her body and personality in order to sell these interesting-looking clothes in the highest end fashion magazines. $90/hr. Skills: Charisma 7, Fitness 9 Mood: Confident M T - T F S -

8. Runway Model--Don't trip! All eyes are on your sim as he/she struts their stuff on the catwalk. Sims watching and cameras flashing can be nerve-wracking for even the most confident sim, but this is a necessary step in order to become a supermodel. $120/hr. Skills: Charisma 8, Fitness 10 Mood: Confident - T W - F S S

9. Editorial Model--Sim Vogue. Your sim is on the cover, looking fierce as fierce can be! Your sim is the epitome of a style icon, and everyone is looking at him/her for style inspiration. $300/hr. Skills: Charisma 10 Mood: Confident M T W - F S -

10. International Supermodel--Traveling the world for fashion shows? Check. Hosting reality style shows? Check. Getting paid to be famous? Check. Your sim is THE top model, as long as a newer, hotter thing doesn't come around. $450/hr. Mood: Confident M - W - - S -

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3- Social Services Career Mod by missmani09

This is a great mod if your interested in having your sim work in social services for a backstory or maybe its just what you mapped out they would be in your head. Here are some of the creator's notes about this mod;

Social Serivices:

1) Clerical Staff Extra Help -Responsible for copying and filing documents, sorting documents

2) Administrative Specialist I -answer phones, answer client's questions, file, sort

3) Administrative Specialist II -Key application, answer telephones, work front desk window correspond emails

4) Administrative Specialist Supervisor Supervise all clerical staff ensure front desk runs smoothly ensure applications are keyed correctly ensure office machinery is working properly assign staff job duties

------------------------------------------------------------ ---(AA) ---- Division of Sim County Operations ------- ----------------------------------------------------------

5A) Program Eligibilty Specialist I - SNAP Process Sim food stamp program applications. Interview & verify resources Assist homeless sims Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program

6A) Program Eligbiliy Specialist II Process sim program applications Determine eligibilty for Sim daycare voucher applications Determine eligibilty for supplemental nutrition program

7A) Family Health Care Case Manager -Family Medicaid Process Sims' medicaid applications. Determine medical coverage eligibilty for Sims including Working Sims' medical coverage, SimKids Care A or SimKids Care B

8A) Aged Sim Health Care Case Manager Process Aged, Retired, and Disabled elder sims' medicare applications Determine disability

9A) Sim Social Services County Administrator oversee especific sim world in which sim currently lives

10A) Sim Social Services National Director oversee all sim worlds

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---(BB) Division of Child Protective Services -------------------------------------------------------------- job is to protect and ensure the health, safety, and well being off all sim children.

5B) Child Protective Service Worker Visit homes. Provide struggling parents with resources and tools to become effective parents. Remove children from home if necessary to the childs health & safety

6B) Child Abuse&Neglect Investigator visit homes. on call rotation investigate suspected sim child neglect/abuse that comes into the hotline issue warnings to parent's who a nearing neglectful standards Remove children from home if necessary to the childs health & safety

7B) Foster Care Case Manager On call rotation. Manage Sim children's cases who have been removed from their home due to neglect/abuse. write extensive case notes

8B) Adoption Specialist process adoption applications. match waiting foster children and place into adoptive home

9B) Sim County CPS Supervisor Oversee foster care and CPS case managers

10B) Sim CPS National Director

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4- Psychologist Career mod by Kittyblue

This is career mod is actually my favorite for storytelling! In this mod there are two branches which are Counseling Psychology and Forensic Psychologist.

download

5- Tattoo Artist Career mod by MesmericSimmer

I love this one so much, mainly because I want one of my sim's backstory to include this career. They have this career option for both adults and teens!

download & more info

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