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#since the pressure comes through pressing the feet
6ebe · 7 months
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Just did a whole rowing outing with my footplate attached upside down I want to dieeeeeee
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nanaslutt · 6 months
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Okay but perv Geto is so fucking good and so fucking accurate what if he caught reader using the shower head on herself and decided he would do her one better 👀
perv geto<3 my luv
contains: fem reader, voyerism, perv!geto masturbation(r!&geto), so much dirty talk, sexual tension, praise, degradation, unprotected sex, shower sex, whipped!geto, softer ending, implied aftercare
MDNI
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“Fuuuu-mmm” you slapped a hand over your mouth to conceal your wines as the strong stream of water from the shower head hit your clit perfectly— the perfect temperature, the perfect pressure.
You had started out standing but quickly decided to make yourself as comfortable as possible on the smooth tile of the shower floor when you realized how intense the stimulation was.
Your legs were spread while you bucked your hips against the stream or water. Your body was jerking and jolting at the sensation of the water caressing just right under the hood of your clit.
You held your breath as the warm water brought you closer and closer to your high, jaw dropping and eyebrows scrunching together as you were pushed off the edge.
“Haaaa-aaah fuck-“ you whined a little too loudly. You felt your walls clench around nothing as your orgasm washed through your body, the warm steady pressure of water was working you over so well, prolonging the intense feeling as you jerked and gasped into the small room of the bathroom.
shlick shlick shlick
“Fuuuuck… cmon go again, do it again..” Geto whispered under his breath from the other side of the door.
You knew you weren’t being relatively as quiet as you know you should’ve been; having a roomate in the house; but you figured the water would drown out most of your noises.
You could not have been more wrong.
For the past five or so minutes that you had been getting up to your antics in the shower, Geto’s ear was pressed against the door, warm hand wrapped around his fist and pumping steadily while listening to your wines and curses as you got yourself off.
He heard you and Shoko talking about this new method to masturbate over the phone the other day, he didn’t mean to ease drop but.. yes he did.
The second he walked by your room and heard you repeat back to shoko, “A shower head? down there? really?” He froze in his tracks, listening to the short conversation after your question that followed.
Ever since that day, whenever you got in the shower he would follow right behind you. The moment he heard the shower come to life, his head was pressed against the thick wood door, listening for any telling signs that you were trying out this new trick you had learned.
And he is so glad he didn’t give up, night after night he spent standing at that door, shuffling his body weight between both of his feet as he waited so patiently to hear something, anything that sounded like you touching yourself, and he finally did.
He wanted to feel guilty he really did, but the vivid image he had painted of you, standing with the shower head you body used, against your clit, moaning and whining as you made yourself cum with it.. the guilt in his body was nowhere to be found.
You panted hard on the floor, squeezing your legs shut in comfort when your orgasm subsided, “holy shit,” you breathlessly whispered, amazed at how good that had felt.
You pulled your lip between your teeth, thinking. The water was still warm, so you couldn’t have been in there for too long.. a second round wouldn’t hurt.. right?
You spread your legs once more, wincing when you brought the shower head back to your clit, face scrunching as you tried to overcome the overstimulation you felt as trying to go again so soon.
You managed to push through it—though you realized you felt ten times more sensitive than before, it was proving to be harder to hold back your noises as you alternated between letting the water spray against your tight hole, and your sensitive little bud.
“Yesyesyes” Geto smiled triumphantly when he heard your noises start up again on the other side of the door after a brief pause. He started up his own hand again, stroking himself faster at the sound of your needier wines this time around.
He was picturing himself standing behind you, his cock fucking in and out of your tight hole while he held the shower head against your clit. He imagined you would protest at how it was too much, too good, to please give you a break— and of course he wouldn’t.
He would fuck into you harder, faster, he would manipulate the shower head in a way so the water was caressing your clit in circles, he pictured you curling in on yourself while you came all over him, he tried desperately to squeeze his hand in a pulsing motion to mimic what he thought your pussy would feel like when your high arrived.
He slowed down his strokes when an idea popped into his head. You could practically see a lightbulb form over him as he completely paused the strokes on his angry dick, quickly pushing his cock back into his pants and zipping them back up.
It was not unusual for the two of you to use the bathroom while the other was in the shower. The sliding shower door was one of those cloudy ones, so you could see nothing but the persons silhouette as they used the shower. The bathroom also had no lock, which Geto thought was absolutely perfect.
He rapped a quick knock onto the wood, “Coming in, gotta brush my teeth” he said as nonchalantly as he could, giving you a could seconds before he cracked the door open.
You were shocked out of your daze, slapping your legs together as the door opened, you prayed he would get his toothbrush and leave, like he usually did, but he had other plan.
“Oh- o-ok-“ You stuttered out when you saw his frame come through the door. You held your breath as you tried to ignore the throbbing between your legs, crying for you to continue the simulation before he interrupted you.
You watched his blurry frame grab his toothbrush, squeezing on the toothpaste and that’s when you froze. You watched as his head turned towards the shower, holding your breath before his deep voice spoke through the room.
“Why are you on the ground?” he questioned, making you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that if you tried hard enough, you might disappear. “Didn’t hear you fall, you okay?” he asked, knowing damn well you weren’t on the floor because you fell.
He wasn’t expecting to see you like this, but he couldn’t deny that the thought of you having to sit down from how weak your legs were from just putting a shower head to your clit was making him dizzy.
“I-i’m okay,” you answered, praying that would be the end of his interrogation— it wasn’t.
“Didn’t answer my question.” He repeated, a smirk you couldn’t see, spreading itself across his handsome face, “Why are you on the ground if you didn’t fall?” He spoke.
You stayed silent, looking around the four walls of the small shower box you were in, trying and failing to come up with some excuse, instead feeling your mouth flap open and closed like a fish while little ‘uhh’ and ‘umms’ fell from your lips.
You watched his figure sit down on the closed toilet seat. The silence in the room was making your heart race, had he heard you moaning?
“Where’s the shower head?” he asked. You pulled your lip into your mouth and closed your eyes, forgetting that you can see the shower head peak out from the top of the shower door.
“What are you doing?” you asked quietly, at this point, you knew he knew— and you knew he was teasing you about it.
“Just wanna know where my shower head went, I spent a lot of money for that attachment you know~” He cooed, making you sigh.
“I..” you started, opening your eyes and peeking at his blurry frame through your peripheral vision, “I have it.” You finished.
“Where?” he quickly responded, smile still plastered on his face, his hand coming down slowly to subtly rub himself over his pants, using the obstruction of the blurry shower door to conceal his antics.
“Down here, with me.” You answered. “What’s it doing down there? hmm?” His deep voice resonated.
You started to feel yourself grow hot, and it wasn’t because of the temperature of the water. “I needed it.” you answered vaguely, feeling yourself throb between your legs at this interaction.
“You needed it?” he repeated, rubbing himself harder over his pants, letting out a short laugh when all you responded with was a short ‘mhm’
He watched your form move behind the glass, guessing your legs had spread open again, watching your arm move to place the shower head back between your legs.
He heard your breath hitch quietly when the water made contact with your little bud once more, “Needed it bad, huh?” he spoke again.
You tipped your head back against the shower wall, ignoring the blaring signals of what the hell are you doing this is your roomate, going off in your head. Instead you opted to move the shower head in circles, letting the water caress your pussy in the way you needed.
“Who taught you that huh?” he asked, knowing full well who the culprit was, and internally thanking her. “A-a friend.” you responded, your breath picking up as you spoke.
“Yeah? Did your friend also say it was okay to use my shower head to play with your pussy?” he asked. His vulgar and more direct words made you whimper, your cunt clenching around nothing as he continued.
“Y-you like it,” you responded, rolling your hips up into the stream of water.
This caught him off gaurd.
“Don’t t-think I haven’t noticed you outside the door whenever I s-shower ngh-“ you whine, wanting your voice to sound more like you were scolding him, but your words came out rushed and needy instead.
“You wanted m-e to do this,” you finished with a whine when the stream hit your clit a little too intensely.
“Fuck,” he laughed, reaching his hand into his pants once more to pull out his cock and stroke himself properly, “Why didn’t you say anything huh?” he asked.
“Didnt w-wanna ruin your fantasy, p-pervert.” you responded, the name making his cock twitch. “Oh I’m the pervert?” he responded, “Who was the one letting me listen to her shower? the one using my shower head to make herself cum?”
“L-listen to yourself, your just a nasty v-voyeur,” you wined, moans freely falling from your lips now at how worked up this conversation was getting you.
He felt his balls clench at your degrading words, cock still in his hand as he stood to his feet, sliding the slower door open in one swift movement and entering the shower, soaking his clothes as he dropped to his knees, gripping your chin in his free hand as he pressed your lips to his.
“Mmm! Mph-“ You whined into his mouth, feeling his arm rapidly move back and forth between you, his heavy breathing giving away his antics.
You kept the shower head on your clit as the two of you made out. He kissed you like he had been wanting to do this for years, bulling his tongue into your mouth and groaning into your cavern, the two of you swallowing each others noises.
“Sugu- Suguru, fuck-“ you moaned his name needing in between kisses, feeling yourself get pushed to the edge for the second time.
He sucked your lip into his mouth before pulling away and gripping your wrist that was controlling the shower head. “Let me fuck you,” he begged against your lips, “Let me fuck you please.” You were astonished at how quickly he was switching gears. He was so dominant just seconds ago and now he was on his knees in front of you, begging you to let him put his dick inside you.
“I’ll make you cum so much harder than this fucking thing please, let me prove it,” he rushed, his hand still jerking quickly over his cock as he sucked his lip into his mouth.
“Okay, okay ye-“ you answer, soul leaving your body when he wrapped his arms around you, yanking the both of you to your feet, he pulled you up by the underside of your thighs wrapping your legs around his waist as he pinned you against the shower wall.
You were getting whiplash as how quickly this was progressing, you gasped in anticipation as his hand grabbed ahold of his cock underneath you, you gasped when you felt it rub against your entrance.
“You can’t take it, Look at me, you can take it.” He spoke, pressing his his forehead to yours and making you keep eyes contact with him, distracting you from the sheer size of his cock that looked like it threatened to split you in half.
The two of you stared at each other with bated breathe, waiting for geto to slip his cock into your hole. The two of you gasped in tandem when he slid inside, the slide eased by the water.
“Oh fuck,” The dark haired man rolled his eyes back in his head, “So fucking tight oh my-“ He cut himself off when he bottomed out, gasping against your mouth as you wined at the stretch.
You’ve never taken anything inside you even remotely close to the girth and length of Geto’s massive cock. You were glad you came once before and your walls were more pliant, otherwise you would’ve been actually worried that he might’ve split you in two.
“Holy fuck you’re so big-“ you praised, looking down between the two of you and seeing your cunt fully pressed against his abdomen. “S-should’ve stopped being a fucking pervert and g-grew the balls to come in here and f-fuck me week ago,” you giggled.
Geto had no idea why when you spoke down to him it made his cock twitch, his balls would clench and threaten to spill his seed without even moving. Even before he got inside you when he heard the name leave your lips he had to squeeze the base of his cock to prevent himself from cumming prematurely.
“I know, you’re right,” he agreed, before he started a rough pace with his hips, fucking meanly into your cunt.
You bounced forward, wrapping your arms around his neck and digging your nails into his back as high pitch “ah! ah! ah’s” we’re fucked out of your lungs.
“This perv fucking you better than that shower head?” he asked, smiling into the crook of your neck as his cocky pistoned in and out of your hole, his fat tip fucking straight into your gspot.
“D-ont kno-w” your words came out choppy and high pitched thanks to his rough thrusts. “You don’t know?” He repeated, his lip jutting out in a frown as he bounced your body up and down his cock with ease. “Let’s find out then,” he added.
He gripped the sides of your body, pulling you up off his cock with ease and flipping your body around, so you were back to chest with him, just like in his fantasy.
He slipped his cock back inside you, making you whine, your legs shaking and trembling under your own weight, small hands reaching out to grip onto the shower door handle to keep yourself steady.
Geto reached over and grabbed the shower head, picking it up off the ground from the tube part and pulling it up into his hands, he quickly checked the pressure and temperature against his fingers before he wrapped one large arm against your tummy, pulling you back against his chest.
He maneuvered his other hand in front of you, teasing the spray of the water against your pelvis before he spoke, “Don’t pass out on me.”
Geto placed the stream of water against your clit before resuming his brutal pace inside your pussy once more. If it wasn’t for his strong grip against your stomach, you were sure your legs would’ve given out on you.
“Fffuuuuuck-“ You wined, eyes rolling back in your head at the intense pleasure. “Fuck- You’re so much tighter when your little clit gets some attention-“ he choked, gritting his teeth at the feeling of your pussy walls constricting around his cock.
He tipped his head back, jaw dropping as he tried not to lose his own balance, he understood now why you ended up on the floor.
“Not gonna last with your squeezing me this fucking tight.” he warned, his lips coming down to suckle against your neck as the both of you were spiraling closer and closer to your impending orgasms.
“Fuck it’s you- you shi-t,” you tried to tell him, making him grin against your neck, “You fuck me better ha-aaah!” you wined, your arms leaving the shower door to dig your nails into his arm that was wrapped around your torso.
“Yeah? Am I making you feel good?” He bated, needing to hear you praise him. “So ahhn! So good Sugu! So fucking good, love your cock-“ you got cut off by the first wave of your orgasm, catching you off gaurd suddenly.
“Yeahhh cum all over my fucking cock- good fucking girl-“ your roomate praised, his thrusts becoming sloppy as your walls fought to milk him for all he was worth,
“Gonna make me cum,” he warned, gritting his teeth and rolling his eyes back when you dug your nails into his arms harder than before.
Unbeknownst to him, he was fucking you straight into overstimulation, you had just come in inch from your life and the stream of water was still steadily massaging your clit, and his mushroom tip was absolutely abusing your gspot.
“Su-“ you tried to speak, to tell him to at least move the shower head but he was out of it himself. The man was fucking you with reckless abandon, humping his dick into your tight walls on instinct, moans freely falling from his lips, his heavy balls making loud vulgar slaps against your ass-
He pulled out just before he came, making him drop the shower head and simultaneously releasing his hold on you, making you drop to your knees.
You looked up at him just in time when he came, his large hand caressed your face while his other stroked him through his orgasm, abs and balls clenching alike while warm spurts of cum covered your pretty face.
“Thank you- Thank you-“ He choked out between the waves of his orgasm, his head was tilted back, jaw slack and eyes squeezed shut at the intensity, you and never seen a more beautiful sight.
His legs were visibly shaking, fighting to keep himself standing as his fist squeezed out the remaining drops of his cum onto your face.
When he started to come down his next dropped to look at you, gasping, trying to catch his breath as he looked at the art he created on your beautiful face.
When the fuzziness started to fade out of his head he realized how uncomfortable he was, his slacks and button up shirt was half drenched, sticking to his skin uncomfortably from the water. His big hand came up to rub the back of his neck as he squatted in front of you, before bringing both hands down to your face using his large thumbs to rub his cum into your cheeks.
“I-“ He stopped himself, clearing his throat before leaving a soft peck on your lips, “Legs get you cleaned up,” he smiled, scooping you up and letting you wrap your limbs around him like a koala as he carried your wet bodies out of the shower.
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lingeriae · 8 months
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PUSSY TALK! FT AOT MEN
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STARRING - CONNIE, ONY, ARMIN, EREN
SYNOPSIS - just aot men, and times they wanna eat you
WARNINGS - very suggestive (duh), boys being downbad, cursing, gramar errors, reader is black and female.
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CONNIE
peering over the edge of your phone screen to see a very tired looking connie, his shoulder sagging as he makes his way towards you slowly. you allow him to push your legs apart and slot himself between them, landing on your tummy and rubbing his face agains the material of your (his) shirt. naturally your hands come to scratch his head, which is freed from his usual beanie, smiling at the soft hum he lets out because of the action.
"hi papa." you say with a soft voice, continuing to scratch his head while you scroll through your tumblr feed. he shifts momentarily the pressure on your stomach gone as he gets up but before you can question him you stiffen, the feeling of lips pressed against your cunt has your phone almost landing in your face as you sit up on your elbow to look down at connie. He presses his lips against it once more before pulling away with an exagerated 'mwah' which has your body heating up, and your thighs closing as you look at him with wide eyes.
connie licks his lips, leaning towards you and caging you into his forearms, his nose brushes against yours as he leans in to peck your lips. "you so nasty." you whisper, scrunching up your nose at him playfully.
he gives you a panty-dropping smile, dimples showing and all. "she looked like she wanted a kiss though." rolling your eyes, your arms move to wrap around his neck pulling him towards you so that you can kiss him. moaning into the kiss connie leans back, lifting up your legs which makes you fall back with a squeak, he licks his lips again when his honey coloured eyes drifts down to your pussy and back to your eyes.
"m' so hungry, mama. lemme eat your pussy, please?"
ONY
you can feel his eyes on you as you talk to your homegirls, drilling into the side of your head and making you feel warm all over. yall only fucked once, and it's like this undeniable tension between the both you since then. shifting on your feet you turn your head to look at him, rubbing your glossed lips together because of how good he looked.
white dress shirt tucked into his slacks with a few of the top bottons opened, his gold chain flashing brightly and matching the grills on the bottom row of his teeth that looked so good with his jaw-dropping smile. he was so shameless, not even attempting to hide the fact that he was staring at you, not giving the person infront of him a glance as he talked to them, no, he would rather have his eyes on stuck on you.
clearing your throat you turned back towards your friends who all had raised eye-brows and a amused look on their face. "girl please do not tell me yall about to fuck at this wedding." one of them said, laughing loudly as you bit your lips with a smile and played with the wine glass in your hand. you shook your head as you brought the glass to your lips, "bye, it's not even like that."
the table suddenly went quiet, and everyone looked over your shoulder with shocked looks on their face they started giggling which caused your face to scrunch up in confusion. "what's funny?"
they shook their heads looking at each other as they sipped on their wine, one of them waving behind you with a smirk. "hey ony." your back straightened as you felt his warmth surround you his chest pressed against your back causing your homegirls to look at you with wide eyes and smiles, you tried to feign ignorance continuing to drink your wine with a blank face.
"hey, girls."you could hear the smile in his voice, and by the way your friends were reacting you knew he was. he leaned down so that his mouth was beside your ear his chain brushing against your bare back causing a shiver to run down your spine. his next words not helping your case either.
"tell your lil friends buh-bye so I can eat your pussy, and stop playing with me."
ARMIN
armin was fidgety. spacing out way too oftenwhen eren or anyone else was asking him questions. everyone was over your house for some party, and you decided to dress to impress. weain a cute little dress that fitted your figure perfectly, not to mention the colour compliemented your sun-kissed skin very well.
his eyes were constantly scanning over the room, looking for you watching the way your glossed plump lips widened as you laughed at something sasha said. feelings eyes on your, you looked over at your boyfriend smile widening when you see his gaze already on you.
you excuse yourself and walk over to him, sitting on his lap a warmth fluttering through you when you feeling his hands immediately find their way to your waist. a strand of blonde hair is twirled around your finger repeatedly as you look down at him, cheeks flushed with a pretty blush and ocean blue eyes glossed over, his pretty pink lips pushed out almost in a pout-like manner. "hi blonde."
he kisses his teeth at your nickname, squeezing your waist as he leans up to kiss your lips only for you to press a finger to his lips. shaking your head with a smug look on your face, armin's eyebrow raising as he looked at you. "nope. spent way too long putting this make-up on, your not about to ruin it."
it's cute, the way you think he needs permission to kiss you. the way you think he ould actually care to listen to your words.
armin leans back, pushing up his hips to the 'fix them' which pulls a gasp from your lips. his lips curl up, head tilting as he looks you up and down with a glint in his eyes. "so I can't eat your pussy?"
your eyes widen at his words, slapping his chest which causes him to snort, looking at you through his lashes with amusement. "why are you so vulgar?" you hiss out moving to get up off his lap only for him to hold you down, you rub your lips together staring at him, feeling your pussy pulse at the way he looks at you.
"m not being vulgar. one way or another im gonna eat that pretty pussy, even if it 'ruins' your make-up."
your make-up was ruined btw!
EREN
coming up behind you eren delivers a slap to yout ass, squeezing the flesh and snickering at the way you cuss him out under your breath. it becomes silent as he takes in your attire, your bottom attire to be specific, his hand linger on your ass while the other comes up to rub your waist.
"this new?" he pinches the material of your tights between his finger, eyes glued to your ass and how nice it looked in the material. you hum, not paying him much attention as you wash the plates.
"yeah, you like it? got it offa temu for - eren!" the water splashes as you jump, erens hand cupping your pussy pressing as his face holds a smug look.
"yeah, makes your pussy look fat. your ass too." his voice is raspy, he applies pressure unto your cunt with one of his finger, smirking at the moan you let out. a mouth is on your neck and you unintentionally lean back as eren fingers you through the material of your new tights, you'd be sure to cuss him out later for ruin it but for now you feel too good to say anything.
his chest vibrate as he hums, burrying his head in your shoulder. "you smell good." whimpering at his words, the pace of his finger sped up and your back arched into him pawing at his wrist as you felt yourself getting close.
eren suddenly removed his finger, spinning you around, teal eyes almost seeming dark as he looked down at you, his fingers squeeze at your waist as he swallows.
"lemme eat you out, pretty please?"
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ivysoul · 2 months
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FIRESIDE. ✸ farmhand!rafe cameron au [1.1k]
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summary. rafe cameron. everything you need and more.
꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ ༘⋆❥ afab!reader, farmer’s daughter au!, reader calls her dad “daddy” but it’s obvs not sexual (it’s country. it’s a country thing it’s normal.), porn with minimal plot, ooc rafe (he’s just sweeter in this lmao), mutual pining, friends with benefits, except reader has such an awful crush on him, unprotected p in v, public sex (no one sees), against a barn oops, dirty talk, fingering, praise, creampie.
reign speaks. i have a rlly bad obsession on the farmer’s daughter aesthetic rn so pls just bare with me while i literally milk the ever living hell out of it. a lot of farmer’s daughter/country au’s in the drafts rn. rafe, leon, ghost, you name it. just let me cook y’all i swear something good will come of it i promise LMAO. sorry about any spelling errors i wrote this in two hours😭
• — ꒰ masterlist ꒱ ꒰ nav ꒱
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rafe cameron had an incredible way of making you feel both wanted and wholly confused all at once. he could be at your feet, begging you to follow him around whilst he did his farm work for your father, to keep him company and fill his ears with your voice of honey. he’d look at you as if you yourself had put the very moon and stars in the sky, as if you’d put them there just for him. hell, he even carved a small heart out of wood and attached it to some ribbon and gently wrapped it around your wrist.
he’d do all this just to continue calling you his friend.
his friend that he occasionally fucks dumb every week. the friend whose brain he turns to mush with his sweet words as he thrusts his cock deep into your cunt. the friend that he spends more time pleasuring than himself.
this time was no different. just another time when you snuck out of your bedroom window and into the warm night, illuminated by the soft hues of the moons glow. the note he had slipped into your hand earlier in the day had been discarded in a box under your bed.
(where you kept all of the notes he’d given you. shamefully, you must admit).
now, you find yourself being pressed against the side of your father’s old barn, towered over by rafe, mouths colliding in mutual desperate need. you pawed at his clothe covered chest, taking the fabric in your fist. his hand held the back of your neck while the other gripped at the skin on your hip, having pushed itself up and under your floral cotton nightgown. his fingers toyed with the waistband of your panties but never dared to go further, not yet.
the feeling of rafe took over your senses. he rendered you unable to form any thoughts other than him. it was embarrassing—the effect he had on you.
he pulled away against his own wishes to catch some air. but the look in his eyes, the look, forbade you from breathing any air at all.
“i missed you today,” he confesses. his voice is like silk against skin. smooth and gentle. “where’d you go?”
you smiled at him. “ran some errands with daddy. needed t’ get a new rake since someone broke the other one.”
“i told you, it was an accident!”
the laugh that escapes him makes butterflies form in your belly.
“i know, ‘m just teasin’.” you run your hand through his hair. when he leans back in and kisses you deeply, gently nipping your bottom lip, you tug lightly at the roots of his hair. the groan he lets out sends shocks through you.
you felt anticipation build up higher and higher when rafe’s index and middle fingers grazed over your clothed cunt, feeling the wet patch and knowing how wet you were already. he applied slight pressure to your clit over your panties, making you whine desperately.
“rafe, please.”
he made a faux pouty expression, displaying fake confusion. “what? i’m just teasin’.”
he is not mocking you right now.
he let out a small laugh before dipping his hands into your panties and finally drawing small circles on your clit. you moaned a little too loud at the sudden feeling, making rafe clamp his free hand over your mouth.
he then pushes a finger, then two, into your sopping cunt, curling them slightly. your eyes practically roll to the back of your head. you were thankful he had your mouth covered, otherwise you would’ve woken up not only the animals on the farm, but also your parents inside the the house.
rafe wasn’t holding back, giving you exactly what you wanted and needed. “god, she’s so wet f’r me, baby. you been missin’ me? missed my words? my fingers? my cock?”
you nodded the best you could with his hand on your mouth. your abdomen constricting with every sharp jolt of pleasure he gave you. an all too familiar feeling was rising too fast for you to prepare for.
but just as quickly it came, it left when he retracted his hands entirely.
you wanted to plead, you would’ve if not for the mouth guard, but instead you attempted to grab at rafe’s hand once again. he just shook his head, shushing you softly and undoing his belt with one hand. christ, you could’ve cum right then.
“don’t worry, baby, i’m gonna take care of you.”
he pulls your panties down and they pool at your ankles. you only have time to step one foot out of them before he’s grabbing at your leg and pulling it against his waist, your panties hanging from your ankle.
rafe takes his hand off your mouth and instead wraps it around your neck and captures your lips with his. in one push, he filled you to the brim with his cock.
your jaw falls slack as moans upon moans escape you. there was nothing rafe could’ve done to muffle you now. with him hitting every spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, you were done for.
the wood of the barn walls scraped against your bare shoulders, rafe’s hand sneaking up and under your nightgown to grope at your tits, pinching your nipples.
“rafe, rafe—fuck!—”
“watch your mouth, princess,” rafe warns. the nickname making your mind swirl. “i know it feels good, y’pussy’s just squeezin’ me. like it wont let me move.”
“‘m sorry! ‘m sorry!” you could barely think. his cock stretched you so much, providing the perfect combination of stinging pleasure.
once again, you felt the knot in your stomach getting tighter and tighter the more rafe fucks his cock into you. you attempted to grasp at any part of him that you could get ahold of and the only word you could mumble out was his name, over and over, until you finally let go. your body spasmed, eyes screwing shut in pleasure. rafe fucked you through your orgasm before he came inside you, against his better judgment. his hips stuttered back and forth, grinding himself against you as much as he could until he had nothing left to give you.
he stilled as you two caught your breaths, until he eventually pulled out and fixed himself back up.
“lift your foot, baby.”
you lifted your foot as he said and he put it through your panties, lifting them up your legs and resting them back against your wet cunt. his cum pooled from you and into your panties, but you didn’t care. you’ll just wash them tomorrow.
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nymphomatique · 7 months
Note
Ahem- what if reader gave nerdy!Miguel aphrodisiac ( secretly just to see his reaction if he be extra needy or force 😩❤ idk you choose OR both 😏) and Miguel is trying everything in is power too not cum on reader touches that he normally would have to beg for, but while reader is letting Miguel, this (ONLY)time to goes crazy on her body ,free use!, but it thing like these always have a price to pay😝! And that price is doing her painfully long assignment and carry her bag if there were something Miguel hate well now he going to hate it even more since he doing this for a week or a month! (I bet that Miguel least favorite thing to do) 😘 hope you have a great day though
I definitely SO normal about this😌🙌
STOP RNNNNN i can literally imagine miguel fucking like a RABBIT like omg
cw: aphrodisiac use, mating press, miguel grows balls, he fucks the shit out of you, unprotected sex (wrap it children), squirting 🤭, miguel got a dirty mouth, creampie action once more. i briefly looked over this so expect typos lmao enjoy 💋
it’s been 3 hours. you and miguel had decided to try those viral honey packs you saw, wondering what the effect would be. well- you made miguel try them and see how fast it would take for him to cum.
it started off all fun and games until after miguel’s first orgasm, he lost control. you’re currently in a mating press, pussy covered in slick and cum, your body is practically limp from the pleasure and overstimulation. the sheets are wet from your combined fluids, and your squirt.
“i- i can’t anymore. no more miguel,” you heave out, pushing your hands to his pelvis.
“move your hands,” miguel says unmoved. he looked so fucking sexy, fucking into you, face etched in insurmountable pleasure, his hulking body covered in sweat and hickies. “gonna cum in you, make my mistress a mommy,” he moans out, pounding into you with all he has and you have no choice but to take it with your feet at your head.
“pleasepleaseplease, oh my fucking- ah!” you squeal, feeling your- how many orgasms was it now?- building up inside you, a familiar pressure bubbling up behind it. “i’m gonna- gonna cum,” you moan out, miguel still pounding in you. the sound of your skin slapping together fills up your dorm room.
“cum all over me, mama. i need you all over me,” he groans out, his own orgasm seeming to come close as well. you let out a squeal as your orgasm wracks over your body violently, pushing out spurts of clear liquid all over miguel’s abdomen.
“fuuuuckkk, so good,” miguel moans. he thrusts a few more times, fucking you through the rest of your orgasm, and then spills into you with a groan. he pulls out of your sore pussy, laying on his back next to you in your queen bed.
“i hope you know you’re not getting away from this scott free,” you quip, turning your head to look at his side profile.
back to normal, miguel’s face reddens realizing what had just happened. “a- anything you command, mistress.”
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lowkeycasanova · 1 month
Text
can't sleep
trafalgar law x reader
*Pic isn’t mine. I’d put the user but I can’t make out the watermark*
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Opening your eyes to the ceiling, you then glance over at the clock.
1:32 am
The soft rustle of the sheets echoed through the room as you shifted from your back to your side. The mattress molded to your figure and you closed your eyes.
Your eyes flutter open and again you glance at the clock.
1:47 am
What? How has it only been fifteen minutes? It felt like at least an hour since you closed your eyes.
Feeling pressure on your hip as you laid, you changed your position to your other side, flexing both knees up, and lazily crossed both arms over on another so they rested on your waist and closed your eyes.
Just for them to open again. You glance over your shoulder at the clock.
2:30 am
You sighed. Taking a peek at Law, a slight fown and furrow in his brows as he rested in his back. His chest rose and fell evenly with each breath. A reminder of the sleep you wish to have.
You then pivot to lay on your stomach with your hands on the pillow. You shut your eyes in an attempt to force yourself to sleep.
2:57 am
You've got to be fucking kidding.
Not even a whole hour passed away, you just laid there with your eyes closed, staring at the darkness behind your eyelids.
You twisted and turned in the bed, adjusting your position for what felt like the thousandth time trying to get comfortable.
Each second that passed echoed the persistent restlessness of your mind. Letting your thoughts roam free was never a good idea, especially at this time of night. It would make you feel more awake. One thing would lead to another and then all of a sudden you're thinking about every mistake you've ever made.
Changing your position again, you lay on your side with your back facing Law, staring at the wall a few feet away.
Unexpectedly, you felt a pair of strong arms encircle your waist.
"Stop moving." Law mumbled.
Knowing that you inadvertenly woke him up made you feel guilty.
His embrace was comforting but knowing him, it was probably also to keep you still. You tried to allow his presence to soothe you, but unfortunately, the discomfort you felt was stubborn, promting you to release yourself from his hold.
Quietly, you slipped out of bed, treading lightly across the room as if to not disturb him further. In search of solace, you wandered to another part of the ship.
However, just as you contemplated your next move, the air around you rippled with energy. Before you could make sense of it, you found yourself back in the bedroom. It remained unchanged, except for the fact that Law was now sitting up.
"Whatever you're planning, it's going to keep you up." he warned.
You let out an soft, yet annoyed groan. That ability of his could be a nuisance.
Technically, he was right. Doing any sort of activity is going to make your body think it should be alert. And, he doesn't want to sleep without you there. Although he will never say that.
As you considered your options, he let out a sigh.
"Come back to bed." he stated and patted the space next to him. The temptation to argue was strong, but you saw the concern in his eyes.
Reluctantly, you shuffled back to bed, slipping under the covers and finding your place next to him. He resumed his previous position, wrapping his arms around you once more.
“Are you upset about something?" He asked. You shook your head 'no'.
"Try to rest." he whispered, his voiced mixed with understanding and a hint of frustration. "I won't be able to sleep properly if I know you're wandering around the ship."
"I'm trying." you sighed, letting out a breath in an attempt to calm your pounding heart. Maybe some unknown factor was causing you stress and the increased cortisol was keeping you up.
Law pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his grip gentle yet secure. "Close your eyes and relax. I'm here."
As the minutes passed, the rhythm of his breathing intertwined with yours, creating a peaceful melody that pulled you into a state of relaxation.
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bigification · 21 days
Text
Jealousy Jealousy
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Strong, loyal, dedicated. All words used by the boss to describe me, and every word seemed like a knife in the back of my roommate. I can hear it in the way he talks to me, ever since I joined the military all he ever seems to be is jealous. I've always been stronger and more dedicated than him, he's smarter but that doesn't even matter that much.
The walk back to our room is awkward. It is completely silent and I can almost see the steam coming out of his ears. I wanted so badly to be friends with him, but he makes it impossible. I've always worked out and kept my body in good shape, and apparently that's unforgivable to him.
We get back to our room and he immediately goes rummaging through his stuff. I pace back and forth, debating whether I should talk to him. It's hard living with him and I just want things to be civil between us.
"Hey man, I wanted to ta-" I'm interrupted when he quickly swings around and jabs something into my stomach. I look down and see a needle sticking into the side of my stomach. I feel frozen with fear, I can't talk, almost as if there is something stuck in my throat. I let out a groan as he pushes the end of the needle, injecting a green liquid into my body.
"I'm tired of being in your shadow, let's see how long you'll last after this." He monologues like some cartoon villain. What does he even mean by that, was that some kind of poison? Is he killing me just because the boss likes me more.
I stumble back against the wall, I feel weak but it hurts less than I thought it would. Although my stomach feels like it's boiling.
Am I dreaming... It feels more like a nightmare. But it must be a nightmare. I see a lump form under my shirt, and it seems to grow every time I blink. It can't be real, but it feels so real. The lump grows until it looks like I have a little belly. Do I have a belly? It's growing faster and faster until my shirt becomes untucked. It finally stops after growing into a sizable beer belly, making it impossible for me to see my feet. Maybe he gave me drugs, maybe this is just a bad trip. But it feels so real.
It doesn't end with the beer belly. Next my pecs start to swell. Something I worked so hard on is gone in seconds. I see them soften into a pair of man tits, growing until they press against my shirt. I always swore I would never let myself go like my father did, but I guess that's a lie. At least it took him until his thirties to get fat, I can't even make it to my late twenties without pigging out.
I still have no idea what's happening to me. It's getting harder and harder to think. I was thinking about... Something about pigging out. It must be because I love pigging out, that's how I got this belly.
As I'm trying to think, my body continues to grow. I hear the button on my pants pop off and feel the pressure release. I think my ass is growing, not that I mind. I feel my body being pushed further and further away from the wall as fat spilled into my ass.
Why does my crotch feel so tight? I could have sworn it didn't feel this tight a moment ago. I don't really care anyway, I can't even remember why I should care.
My pants strain against the fat filling my legs, I think I can even hear some rips tearing through them. My arms follow suit, softening up my defined muscles and fattening up my hands. Better off that way if you ask me, fatter hands means better belly rubs, and I like belly rubs.
I feel an itchiness engulf my body as a thick pelt of hair covers my skin. My arms, my legs, my chest, and most importantly my belly become a forest of sweaty hair.
My body finally relaxed and I let out a loud burp. Oh... I'm so hungry. I rub my belly trying to get any relief. It's all I can think of. Wasn't I stressed about something? What would I have been stressed about, maybe I was just hungry.
"How ya feeling big guy?" My roommate asks me.
"I'm so hungry." I cry out.
"Aren't you supposed to be on a diet?" He teases me.
"Why the fuck would I be on a diet. This is the mark of a true man!" I say as I slap my gut.
"Well I'm sure this box of donuts won't hurt your fitness assessment next week, and they won't eat themselves." He pulls out a dozen donuts. It feels like I lose control of my body as I instinctively ravage the donuts.
I lean back after finishing off the last donut and let out a loud burp. God I'm stuffed, but I want so much more. I rub my belly, trying to process the snack I just had, so I can make room for more.
"There's plenty more where that came from, big guy."
Credits to bulkgainer92 for the video and for inspiring this story.
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princessbrunette · 1 month
Note
omggg i adore kitty!reader so much shes so !! me !!! how do u think jayj would put her in her place … i feel like whenever shes having her mini tantrums people get equally as frustrated bc she gets feisty but jj has like .. magic on him or something 💭
"⭒˚。⋆🍡⋆⭒˚。"
you’d been in a bad mood since coming home from work. bartending wasn’t for the weak, especially when the locals constantly harassed you and berated your drink pouring skills — which was mostly put down to being a woman. by the time you get back to jj’s empty house, the blonde sat on his messy porch with a bottle of beer when you got back — you had quite the attitude.
“if it ain’t my favourite bartender. how’s m’girl, come over here.” he opens his arms and you storm right past making his brows shoot up, lips pressed together as he adjusts his cap. “alrighty, guess someone’s in a mood.” he pushes up onto his feet, swaggering in through the open door.
“‘somethin’ happen? what’s up?” he calls after you, spotting you in the kitchen angrily opening and closing cupboard doors as you try to make yourself something to eat.
“where is my plate?” you demand, clearly frustrated. he blinks, thinking back to your special plate that you always ate off. some cutesy antique thing you found at a yard sale, a beloved item of yours. he silently winces, eyeing it sat in the sink, soaking in bubbles.
“yeah uh, so basically i ate my lunch off it ‘cus i forgot to do the dishes, uh — again. that’s my bad. i got paper plates you can use? great thing about those is that when you’re done with ‘em you don’t gotta wash ‘em. you just throw ‘em away. makes me wonder why we even buy regular plates in the first pl—”
“no i don’t want a paper plate jj j want my plate! i just want to eat my food and— and you’re here just— just—” you explode, still refusing to offer him even a glance as you continue hunting for something to eat your leftovers off.
“hey, hey— put them claws away kittycat. no need for that. c’mon pretty girl where’s that smile?”
you spin around, fists balled at your side, tears of anger in your eyes.
“dont tell me to smile! go away!” you yell before turning away with a loud huff. jj drops his head down, tongue in his cheek as he nods, thinking for a moment before approaching slowly.
“easy, alright? you’re not gonna take that tone with me, mama i’m on your side.” as he speaks, you feel the warmth of his front press to your back, an arm cautiously sliding around your waist to keep you stable. his other arm snakes around your neck, pulling you into a light headlock, just enough pressure to ground you. he lowers his head to talk into your ear as you stare directly at the cabinet, already melting a little against him. “you wanna talk ‘bout your day? y’already know i’m all ears baby. but you gotta watch that attitude, yeah? you’re home now, i’m here. just… dial it back.”
there’s some silence, and you nod — releasing a shaky breath as you feel some of the grossness from your day leave your body. “uh-huh, that’s all you needed wasn’t it babydoll? needed to be told. that’s okay, i get it.” he kisses your temple before removing his arm from your neck, using both hands to squeeze your waist and turn you around.
the gaze he receives from you is nothing short of guilty, doll-like eyes blinking up at him slowly as you take deep breaths. “now what you’re gonna do, is sit that cute lil ass down and let me fix you up a plate. you’re gonna eat that shit, then, you’re gonna talk to me about your day,” he walks you backwards until your legs hit the chair at the table and you drop down to sit in it. he leans forward, hands cupping your cheeks. “and after that, oh i’mma fuck the shit out of you. like, you’re not even gonna remember what day of the week it is— let alone what shitty customers ran their mouth at you today. that sound good?”
“yes, jj.” you respond, pupils pretty much taking up your whole eye like an entertained kitten.
“thats what i like to hear, ma’am. alright, wait there. i got you.”
"⭒˚。⋆🍡⋆⭒˚。"
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glitter-epoch · 2 months
Note
Hiii, always love to see people obsessing over love and deepspace (bc I'm addicted too), can I please request zayne fic about his hands and fingers? Can be suggestive, can be pure smut, up to you lol, ok thanks byee
HIII yes i can!!! i can't believe my first request is a zayne's hands request this feels like a gift. thank you for requesting i hope you like!!!
[ there’s a part 2 now :) ] ☄. *. ⋆ gn! reader | 2.8k words | suggestive, not smut | zayne gives reader stitches but it's deliberately not described in detail/no mentions of needles/blood
“my lunch break ends in fifteen minutes,” zayne had said, staring past your head in thought. “it would be a waste of time to check you in.” 
you stood there in the bustling lobby of akso hospital, one paper-towel-bound hand pressed to the sliced skin over your hipbone, and waited. surely he wasn’t telling you to just leave. you were only friends, so it’s not like he had an obligation to you; but he was your primary care doctor, and...
and. there was, is, an and. you’re not sure what exactly to call it, and zayne is so adonis-like you’re embarrassed to even suggest he might like you.  
“i’m sorry,” you said in earnest, a little surprised by his usual coldness that you’d arrogantly assumed would thaw upon seeing your injury. “i didn’t mean for you to drop everything for me. i should have gone to an urgent care, or something, i just thought since you’re here...” 
zayne looked down from the spot over your head, clearly removed from his pensive mood. his intention to argue with you was clear, but he held his tongue stonily until you finished your rambling. 
“no,” he replied. “you should never go to another doctor. i was just thinking.” 
you blushed like an idiot. “ever?” you mocked. 
“mm,” he murmured, back to thinking again. he brought his forearm to circle the small of your back, not touching, and motioned you forward. “come with me.” 
and now, here you are: sitting on the grey sofa in front of the wall-length window, early afternoon light bleeding white all over zayne’s office. for a few moments, he’s left you alone to gather materials, and you relish in what feels like a small victory. 
i’ve been personally invited to the office.  
not like it’s the first time, though.  
zayne returns with a small kit swallowed by the size of his pale hands; the sleeves of his button-down pinned up to his elbows. you shift, balancing your weight unnaturally on one leg. His eyes snag on you as he grabs his glasses from his desk (far taller than the tabletop, he must lean down to grab those, too). 
“lay down,” zayne commands.  
you blink, glancing around to try to figure out the most convenient position to get into for him to work. by the time he’s come over and sat down on the glass table in front of you, you’re still sitting up. 
“you can put your head on the armrest and your feet that way,” he nods, not a hint of impatience in his deep voice. “i can see you squirming. when you sit up like you are, you’re putting pressure on the wound. it must hurt.” 
“i haven’t even shown you the wound,” you retort, not sure why you’re arguing so much- and swallowing a wince as you turn to prop your head up on the side of the sofa.  
“i see your handywork,” zayne replies. he pulls on a pair of blue latex gloves and they snap quietly against his wrists. he’s clearly careful not to let the noise be too loud. “hm.” 
you frown in place of a (shameful) gulp at the sight of the gloves hugging his hands.  
“is this bad?” you ask. “i’m sorry. i tried not to mess with it too much.” 
zayne pieces through the small kit on the table beside him. even his rummaging is succinct; long fingers deftly parsing through the stack of metal utensils inside. he comes up with two sets of narrow pliers and a cotton round.  
he passes the pliers through his fingers like pencils, balancing them between his knuckles, and pours a solvent that looks like lens cleaner onto the cotton pad. 
“not bad,” he says, eyes on the pliers as he polishes them. “the paper towel is fine. but you got it wet beforehand.” 
“and that’s bad?” 
“you’ll be alright,” he murmurs- or maybe he always sounds like that- and discards the cotton round. the corners of his lips just barely curl. “you won’t die, i suppose.” 
“well, i’d hope not. it’s just a cut.” 
“and what did you do this time?” zayne demands softly, fishing in the kit for what you now realize will be sutures.  
“i had an assignment with xavier and failed to climb a fence.” 
“you impaled yourself, then,” he remarks coldly. “and xavier.” 
he sets a roll of sterile surgical threads on a wider cotton pad and turns his eyes to your midriff, which is still mostly covered by your shirt; wound hiding beneath it.  
“xavier, yeah,” you inhale deeply, mentally preparing for the stitches. “my partner. i’ve mentioned him, i think.” 
“yes, you have,” zayne says. his voice is strained. then he inhales, a whole breath through his nose, mouth closed in stoic secrecy; and nods to your hips. “lift your shirt, please.” 
you’re grateful that he’s given you a task and you don’t have to look him in his eyes after that tiny display of disdain (for your partner? for your hips? hopefully the former?). But as you lift your shirt, the paper towel comes loose. 
“ouch,” you hiss. 
you realize you’re probably stressing him out.  
“it’s not bad,” you add, uncharacteristically hoarse. 
“it’s not,” zayne agrees softly, eyeing the wound with his usual cold stare. his eyes refuse to flicker above or below the cut, which rests just over the shallow ridge of your hipbone, right above the line of your trousers. “but it hurts, i'm sure.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
“sure,” he repeats, almost as if to mock you, almost as if he’s just making sure he heard you right.  
zayne busies himself preparing a cotton round of saline, and in the middle of this, says, 
“you’ll have to unbutton your pants. can you fold the waistband over?” 
your neck is suddenly clammy. “oh. yeah, sure.” 
“if you can’t fold them down far enough, you’ll have to take them off.” 
your eyes blow out like glass. 
zayne, whom you suspected might have been deliberately extending the length of his cotton-round-preparing, is surprisingly the one to smile first. almost wickedly. “i would get you a cover, of course.” 
“oh, how nice of you.” 
he laughs barely, an exhale from his nose. you unbutton your trousers, fabric shifting against metal.  
he inhales at the sound. 
the blue latex over his knuckles catches light from the windows. you watch moments later as he threads the sutures, fascinated by how efficient his hands are. they’re longer than they are wide, and slender, not bear-like; but big nonetheless. and yet his fingers move like knitting needles, never missing a beat, never shaking. “would you like to do it yourself?” zayne asks suddenly. 
his voice is like a hum, always vibrating in his chest. 
you bristle. “god, no.” 
“then why are you staring?”  
you’re hoping he won’t finish on that very word, but he does, and he looks at you with his usual resolve of steel. you decide that no answer is the only good answer, and instead say, 
“okay. good luck. don’t mess up, please.” 
he chuckles and leans over you, the breadth of his sharp shoulders blocking the sun. “i never mess up.”   
the words ‘mess’ and ‘up,’ are foreign on his tongue, like he’d never refer to a mistake so casually, like he’s never made one in his life. he probably hasn’t, you think. 
zayne lifts up the cotton round, which is practically the size of a pea in his hand. “i’m going to clean around it. the solution may sting, but not much. it will be over fast.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
he chuckles again. “sure,” he hums, and then, before he presses down, “here.” 
he swipes the cotton round over your hipbone, startlingly light. goosebumps rise instantly on your flesh. his fingers are icy, even through the gloves; they radiate cold like a lamp radiates heat.  
zayne is kind enough not to mention your instant squirming and moves quickly to start the sutures. 
“this will be fast, too,” he says, looking unwaveringly into your eyes. like he’s trying to will the fear out of you. “not as fast as that, but faster than you’d imagine.” 
you nod. “sure.” 
“there it is again,” he smiles. “sure.” 
you grin incredulously. “i don’t know what else to say. you’re about to stab me.” 
his smile is thin and almost prideful as he grabs his glasses and slips them on. he leans over your hips, then looks up at you; pushing them up the bridge of his nose. 
“aren’t you glad it’s me, at least, and not some stranger?” 
you’re busy inhaling and exhaling like a horse, trying to calm down. “i am glad it’s you, yes.” 
your desperation throws him and his jaw sets like a stone, adam’s-apple bobbing.  
“alright,” zayne says, nearly whispering. “now.” 
he begins the sutures. you gasp, instantly, at first through your nose and then through your mouth; which pops open unwittingly. it’s nearly a whine. 
“i know,” zayne murmurs, leaning back a tiny bit as he works; so his face is visible to you. “i’m sorry.” 
“it’s okay.” 
you bite down hard and screw your eyes shut, but all you do is flinch each time his fingers move. he stops almost instantaneously, like pulling the plug on a treadmill. 
“look at me,” zayne says, deep voice rumbling against your thigh.  
you peel one eye open and then the other. 
“i know it hurts,” he says gently. “but you can’t move. i could seriously hurt you.” 
“sorry, sorry,” you nod. “i know.” 
the pools of his eyes are clear. he’s resolute in his instructions as he speaks, every word confident. 
“breathe the entire time, through every suture. i can work while your stomach moves; i can’t work if you’re flinching away.” 
“okay.” 
his brows lift. “okay?” 
again, you nod. “okay. i’m sorry.” 
“no apologies,” zayne says. 
he presses his hand flat to the side of your belly that’s unharmed, the tips of his long fingers just barely curling around the slope of your waist. you inhale slowly at that, blinking rapidly. his hand is cool as glass.  
you panic, as if he can somehow feel the coil that winds up in your stomach; watching his fingers splayed across your navel.  
“i’m going to try again,” he says. you can feel the words all the way down to his fingertips. then his thumb moves, caressing the skin just over your waistband. “breathe.” 
well, i can’t now. 
“got it,” you grind out. 
“good,” zayne hums. “three, two, one...” 
and it starts again. you bite down, tongue taut to the roof of your mouth. 
“don’t,” zayne warns, stern as ever, but his fingers keep working. “breathe. i can see whether you’re doing it.” 
the coil in your stomach tightens. you peel your eyes open and watch him work, knuckles grazing over the soft, thin flesh that’s been revealed from behind the waistband of your trousers.  
his eyes flash away from your navel as you start to watch. moments later, you’re stunned to see how laser-focused he is, pupils never moving from your cut.  
“do you ever get nervous doing this?” you ask, apt to make the time pass faster by talking. like your mouth isn’t wet just watching him do his job. “are you nervous?” 
“no.” his reply is instant. “i’ve done this hundreds of times.” 
you’re stunned. “i would be nervous.” 
“you are nervous,” zayne murmurs. “close your eyes.” 
the ball of his wrist presses into the juncture of your hipbone.  
“no,” you gasp. too fast. 
zayne’s fingers slow, utensils suspended. he looks up at you, somehow feeling taller still. “no?” 
you shake your head. “i-i don’t like not knowing what you’re going to do next.” 
oh, sure.  
he’s stopped working at this point, watching you like a hawk. “then i’ll tell you what i’m going to do before i do it.” 
“that’s okay,” you exhale. i’m dying. 
zayne’s eyes rove over yours, not unkind, but uncaring about how visible his assessment of you is. clinical, even still. the corners of his lips curl up.  
you’re not sure how it’s possible for your stomach to drop while laying flat on your back, but it does; your ears hot as irons.  
he goes back to work without another word. you’re so embarrassed, you finally shut your eyes and let your head weigh on the armrest until he’s done. 
“alright,” zayne says. “that’s it. don’t move.” 
you keep your eyes shut, nodding. “i really can’t thank you enough, i-” 
“watch.” 
for a moment, you lay there. then you open your eyes, peering down at him, too uncertain to be shocked yet. “what?” 
zayne takes his small kit from the table and places it on your lap. you startle, blink, as he sifts through the contents of it. gloves still on.  
“this is another cleanser,” he hums, his voice uncharacteristically musical. “i’m going to clean around the sutures.” 
you stare incredulously at him. “...okay.” 
he’s not fooled by your aloofness. zayne’s right hand works slow circles with a cotton round around your cut; the other comes down flat to keep the waistband of your trousers from getting in his way. both are cold to the touch; never quite warming.  
your jaws come apart and you barely manage to stop your mouth from falling open as discards the cotton round and takes the corner of your waistband into his hand. 
he buttons your trousers; pulls the zipper up. 
you watch like a fool. then, when he’s done, and you think you’ll have to admit to what you’re thinking, he furrows his brows at your face.  
“did you cut yourself here, too?” he murmurs. 
“where?” you croak. 
zayne shakes his head and slowly peels off the gloves; letting them slide slowly off his fingers. “mm. here.” 
he reaches forward and spreads fingers to cup your temples. one thumb glides over your browbone, low enough that you can see it; four or five times before removing his kit from your hips and leaning back.  
you exhale harshly and move to sit up, wondering if you’ll be able to somehow flee the office without another word. 
“not yet,” zayne says. “lay back again. you don’t have to put your head back; just lean back.” 
and you do it, instantly, because...well, because.  
zayne pulls a rectangular gauze pad with an adhesive border from the small kit. then he leans forward- he'd be positioned between your legs, if you opened them- and pulls your shirt up once more. 
as he presses the bandage over your sutured wound, it seems like even he can’t look at you. but his usually statuesque expression is lifted with amusement, plus something more sinister.  
“you like to watch me work,” he hums. 
his fingers dip under your waistband to smooth the bandage over. 
“shut up,” you bite. 
he leans back and watches you with no further offerings- words or otherwise medically dubious practices- and looks quite pleased. his breath is ragged, though; chest lifting and caving. 
“thank you,” you exhale. your tongue darts out over your lips.  
his pupils are swollen. “sure.” 
you grin, caught off guard by the joke. it sounds ridiculous in his voice.  
“my break will be ending,” zayne says, stony as ever once again as he walks to his desk.  
you stand, smoothing your hair down like something far more scandalous just occurred than stitches. 
“what do i owe you?” you ask. this earns a genuine, icy glare. 
“nothing,” zayne replies, pulling on his white jacket and grabbing his things. “but go to the front desk before you leave. i’m going to call in a prescription ointment for you.” 
you blink at him, thrice. a little dizzy. “oh, wow. thank you.” 
as zayne strides to the door, you think he might genuinely leave you there without another word. but he takes the door handle, and, almost shy, turns over his shoulder and says, 
“i’d like to stay with you, but i can’t. i’ll be working until dinner.” 
“no, no,” you rush, stepping to meet him at the door. “i’m fine. thank you so much, for doing this. i was just thinking.” 
he still can’t look at you, but at that; zayne grins. 
“i’ll call you when i get home,” he says. then, “is that okay?” 
you swallow. “of course.” 
“i want to know how the sutures feel in a couple of hours,” he adds. 
“oh, sure,” you tease. 
his eyes darken, like darts. you’re almost afraid.  
zayne opens the door for you and waits for you to pass by, eyes full of mirth as he looks down at you. “i’m glad i could be of service.” 
he raps his fingers on a clipboard until you look away. you blush feverishly all the way down the hall at how he says ‘service.’ 
☄. *. ⋆
this is not how you do stitches nor how you sterilize utensils. anyways FIRST POST. lol. anon if you or anyone else wants a part 2 of this (nsfw) i wiiiiiill do it lmk
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megalony · 3 months
Text
Emergency Situation
This is a new Evan Buckley imagine, requested by the lovely @neonkiwi I hope this is what you were looking for and that everybody likes it. I might do a follow up part if anybody is interested. Feedback is always amazing.
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 @topguncultleader @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts
911 Masterlist
Summary: When (Y/n) becomes ill while on shift, she suddenly deteriorates but the reason why is… surprising.
Enjoy.
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A shudder jolted through (Y/n) when a pair of tense arms suddenly deadlocked around her waist and reeled her off her feet. Her heels pressed down into the floor and her head fell back onto Evan's shoulder when he moulded his chest up against her back and buried his face in her neck.
She could feel him smiling into her skin and his arms crossed over her stomach so his hands could grip her hips and gently shimmy her from side to side.
He nuzzled his nose into her neck and bit down enough to make her gasp. But Evan's eyes widened and his smile shrunk when he felt (Y/n)'s hands deadlock around his forearms and she wobbled and lost her balance in front of him. He couldn't count the times he had grabbed her from behind like this and wrapped around her like a blanket and she never usually lost her footing.
"Did I scare you?" He whispered quietly against her cheek as he pressed a sloppy kiss there and straightened them both up, staying wrapped around her. He kissed her cheek again and moved to kiss her temple but he let his lips linger against her forehead for a few seconds. "You okay? You're starting to burn up."
He could feel her temple was flushed and she was starting to sweat which was unusual since they had been in the station for the last hour and it was full of air-conditioning.
"I think I'm getting sick, my stomach's in knots." (Y/n) turned her head and let her face tuck into Evan's exposed neck, nudging his collar out the way so she could press an open-mouthed kiss there.
Her fingers dug down tightly into Evan's arms to steady herself and to keep him holding her as tightly as he was. The pressure his arms were applying into her waist and stomach was comforting and helpful when her abdomen felt like it was twisting itself up into knots.
At first, (Y/n) thought she was getting cramps but throughout the night she hadn't felt well and now she felt sick. She was coming down with a bug. Hen had been off sick last week after Denny got sick, and then Eddie hadn't been feeling great the past few days. Now it seemed to be (Y/n)'s turn. She prayed she wouldn't pass it onto Evan, he wasn't good with being ill. He was better being the carer, not the patient.
"Oh, baby." He mused quietly against her temple, brushing his cheek against her forehead while he gently swayed them both from side to side, glad no one else was in the corridor at the moment. He just so happened to leave the locker room and see his wife walking ahead down the corridor. Evan would take any opportunity he could get during shifts to snatch a kiss from (Y/n) because they had to be professional when in front of everyone else.
They didn't dare risk being anything but professional in case someone said something and their shifts got split up. Bobby was lenient enough to let them work together even though they were married.
Evan sighed into her hair and fought the urge to roll his eyes when the bell sounded.
"Are you okay to head out? If you tell Cap he'll let you hang back at the station."
"No, I'm good."
Tilting her head back, (Y/n) let go of Evan's arm so she could cup his freshly shaved jaw and reel him down for a kiss. She sunk her teeth into hie bottom lip just to feel him groan into her mouth when she had to untangle herself from him. They had to go get ready.
Evan ducked forward and pounced, clamping his fingers down on (Y/n)'s hips when she started to walk away. He followed behind her, kissing the back of her neck and giving her hips a wiggle before he bypassed her and moved towards the lockers.
Evan slung on his jacket, grabbed his helmet and turned to (Y/n) as she did the same. With them both sharing the same last name, they had to have their first initials printed on their jackets. Their names were on their jackets and helmets for security, if they got injured, lost or unconscious, people would know who they were. So their initials needed to be added for safety reasons so they didn't get mixed up.
(Y/n) jiggled her shoulders to rid herself of the shiver building up in her back that went right down to her toes. She followed after Chimney towards the truck but she pressed her lips into a straight line when she climbed up the first step and suddenly felt Evan's hand swat her bum. She didn't have to turn round to know he was grinning. No one else had seen or heard the light touch, thankfully.
(Y/n) began to regret going on this call the moment she sat down because she seemed to melt into her seat and the thought of getting back up seemed impossible.
She pulled a headset over her ears and slouched down, moving her seatbelt a bit lower so she could shift to the right and slump her head onto Evan's shoulder. Deep breaths made her feel a little better but her stomach was knotting up again and (Y/n) wondered if she might throw up soon. She hoped not. Each bump the truck rolled over had her stomach churning and every sharp corner spun her head.
Her eyes fell closed and she stayed wedged up against Evan's arm as he moved his hand to squeeze her thigh. Evan turned his head to the left and perched his chin on top of her head while he looked out the window a the passing scenery.
When the truck made a harsh break, (Y/n) kicked her foot out and pressed the heel of her boot into the chair opposite to steady herself and her face wedged into Evan's arm to stop herself from groaning.
(Y/n) ignored the small chatter through the headphones and focused on the feeling of Evan's fingers rubbing circles into her inner thigh.
They were all glad to tear off their headphones when the truck rolled to a steady stop at their newest call out scene. There was already another unit here but they needed back up to help evacuate the building and tend to anyone with injuries.
She grabbed her helmet and followed out the truck, the last in the line to climb down but as soon as the temperature change and the gravity shift hit her, (Y/n) felt uneasy. Her hands reached out in front of her and gripped Evan's shoulders tightly as she followed him down the truck and onto solid ground. As soon as her feet touched the ground, (Y/n) buried her face in Evan's back and tried to stop her stomach from tightening up.
"Everything okay baby?" He whispered softly and his head turned to look down at her. He could feel her tight grip on his shoulders and he could sense how close she was standing to him like she was trying to merge herself into his back.
"Just a wobble,"
"You sure?"
(Y/n) nodded and batted her eyes up at him when she moved to stand at his side rather than behind him but she couldn't bring herself to smile, not yet. She could feel the adrenaline pounding through her blood from arriving on scene but it wasn't enough to rid her chest of the tightening feeling or relieve her tense stomach.
She forced herself to let go of his arm even though she didn't want to, and secured her helmet and gloves. She could feel her stomach knotting but one of the many knots started to ease when Evan reached his arm out so it crossed in front of her chest and his hand clamped down on her left hip securely. He didn't move an inch away from her as they stood lined up, waiting for their orders. And although Evan stayed facing forwards, (Y/n) could feel his head turning and his gaze drifting down to her every now and then.
"Okay, Buck, Eddie, I want you round the back with the 211 to evacuate. Chimney you go with me through the front to make sure everyone gets out. And (Y/n)," Bobby's gaze lingered on her for a few seconds and his eyes narrowed. He could either see or just sense tat she wasn't at one hundred percent today. "Go with Hen, help check everyone over and assist medics."
(Y/n) didn't question it, she knew not to and deep down she was relieved to have an easier task than running in blind to get everyone out. She wouldn't be quick enough today and she didn't hold enough strength to pull anyone out and run back in for a second go. Helping the wounded was a much easier job for (Y/n), it was automatic to tend to people and help with their injuries whereas Buck and Eddie were far better suited to run into the burning buildings and find ways to get out.
The call out lasted an hour and a half and by the end, (Y/n) felt broken.
She was glad it was over. She wanted to go back to the station and collapse down in a chair. She never usually needed to recharge her batteries like this but today, she felt drained down to ten percent.
Patching the injured up had been an easier task than running in and out the burning building but now (Y/n) was flagging. She shouldn't feel this breathless, shaky and dizzy from walking around tending to the wounded.
With all the equipment packed up in the medic bag, (Y/n) hoisted it up on her shoulder and made a slow walk away from the make-shift tents, over towards the fire trucks that felt like they were a mile away.
She barely got three feet from the tents before it felt like her lungs were filling up with stones and all the air was starting to drain out of them like they had a leak. And when her stomach started to clench, (Y/n) had no choice but to drop the medic bag down to her side and hunch forward to crease her stomach and try to relieve the tension.
Her body started to burn up so much that (Y/n) dropped the bag at her feet and threw her helmet down beside it. She ripped open her jacket and leaned forward with her hands braced on her knees and her chin tilted down into the top of her chest. She willed the urge to be sick to dissipate. She didn't need to stand in front of everyone and throw up; she would embarrass herself.
Evan's lips curved into a frown and his brow creased when he looked over at his wife. He took off his helmet and rattled his fingers through his knotted curls and squinted over at his girl. She looked like she was about to throw up.
When he realised she was wobbling and her knees suddenly caved, Evan darted into a sprint to grab her.
"Baby- woah, woah hey I got you." His arms bolted around her waist and he reeled her into his chest. His chin tucked down into his chest to look at her properly as she curled her hands around his biceps to stay upright.
"I- just dizzy."
"You're not dizzy, you're sick baby girl."
(Y/n) shivered and leaned forward to tuck her face into his jacket, breathing in the combination of Evan's scent and the smoke clinging to his clothes.
"No, I'm o-okay." The sickness was starting to wear off the longer Evan held her upright and took her weight for her. She could feel herself calming down already, it was just her stomach knotting itself up. Maybe she had a stomach infection rather than a sickness bug.
"Of course you are, and I'm five foot one. Come on, back in the truck." Evan kissed the top of her head before he circled his arm around her waist and pinned her into his side to keep her up on her feet. His other hand moved to cup her hip and he started walking back towards the truck. He would come back and grab her gear once he'd gotten her sat down and calmed down in the fire truck.
(Y/n) reached up to grab the door handle but she was grateful Evan just held her hips and effortlessly hoisted her up in the air. He lifted her up and moved her inside the truck as if she weighed nothing at all.
"Baby-"
"Don't baby me. If you have another wobble or you throw up, you're going home. Got it?"
Rolling her lips together, (Y/n) nodded and looked down at her hands that she locked together on her lap. If it was the other way around she knew she would be exactly the same with Evan and he only had her best interests at heart.
***
She was going to be sick.
The burning in her stomach turned into an intensifying ache in her abdomen and each and every muscle was contorting and twisting inside her in a way which felt impossible. The agonising twist of her muscles stopped her from standing up straight but she tried her best to look as okay and as normal as possible.
One arm bound around her stomach and her other hand gripped the metal banister as she almost slipped down the stairs. She needed to get to the toilets behind the shower room before she threw up in front of everyone.
Evan had been right. She should have told Bobby the moment they got back to the station that she felt sick and needed to take the rest of the shift off. But she didn't. Her pride stopped her from asking for help or leniency and because she hadn't been sick or in immense pain, Evan didn't push her to go home.
(Y/n) should have gone home.
When she reached the corridor, (Y/n) slumped forward until her chest was almost pressed down into her thighs. Tears burned in her eyes and as soon as she reached the toilets, (Y/n) crouched down and bound her arms around her waist. Her body hunched up into a ball shape and she stumbled into a cubicle, crashing down to her knees in front of the toilet just in time to throw up.
The static in her ears got worse until it was deafening white noise and she began to shake despite the cold air in the bathroom.
God, it had been a long time since she had a sickness bug this bad. The last time, (Y/n) had a stomach infection and couldn't eat anything for three days. It had kept her up at night, striking her with pain every time she tossed and turned but that was still different to this. That had been her stomach, this pain was in her abdomen.
Pushing up, (Y/n) flushed the toilet and turned around to sit down on the toilet with her knees spread apart and her elbows on her knees. Her hands smothered her face and she dropped her head down between her thighs to relieve the blood swelling up in her head and making her feel dizzy.
Tears soaked into her palms and small hiccups bubbled past her lips when the pain only got worse and made her limbs coil inwards.
Something was wrong.
Something was drastically wrong, this couldn't be a normal sickness bug or an infection or a problem like IBS. This had to be different, (Y/n) had never been in this much agony before in her life.
Maybe she was having a hernia. Maybe her intestines were twisting and cutting off blood supply to part of her intestine and she would need surgery to fix the issue. Maybe something was rupturing like her spleen or her appendix. It had to be something drastic and that meant (Y/n) needed to tell someone. She needed Evan. She wanted her husband. He would know what to do and how to make everything better.
When the cramping, throbbing pain dulled down, (Y/n) did her best to take a few deep breaths to try and pull herself together. She had to go and find Evan and talk to him.
Her hands moved to run up and down her trousers as she willed herself to stand up. The sooner she moved, the sooner she could get some advice and go get help for whatever ailment she now had.
"Oh God!" A burning sob bubbled past her wet lips and both her hands moved to her stomach when a horrendous pain made her double over.
She struggled for breaths, gasping and choking as her body slumped to the left and her head pressed into the plastic wall of the cubicle. Her knees spread wide into each wall and her hands imbedded into her stomach like she was trying to merge them through her skin to grab her organs.
Her knees wavered and struggled to hold her weight when she pushed up to undo her belt. She raked her trousers and underwear down but her vision started to blurr and sparkle with white dots when she looked down at her underwear and slumped herself to sit back down. That wasn't right. That was very, very wrong.
Why was there blood and fluids in her underwear?
The moment her hand gingerly moved between her thighs, her arms recoiled and (Y/n) braced herself on the wall as she cried out.
"No! No, no." This wasn't happening to her. She was having an out of body experience. She was seeing this happen to someone else, not her. This was a nightmare, a bad dream. A horrible vision of someone else's life. None of this was happening to (Y/n). It couldn't be.
Both her hands moved to smother her mouth and nose to the point she wasn't breathing when the toilet door opened.
Her trembling fingers dug into her cheeks enough to scratch her skin and her trembling body started to shake the cubicle wall along with her jittering knees that were bashing into the walls. She could barely feel each little breath that left her lips but she heard the gasping hiccup she let out when she tried to breathe deeply. It was hard to control her cries and be deathly silent when her body was going into shock.
She leaned back and slammed her elbows into her waist when a light knocking rapped on the door.
"Everything okay in there?"
It was Hen.
This was not a state (Y/n) wanted any of her coworkers to see her in. She didn't really want Evan to see her like this either, but he was the only person she would allow to witness and help her in this state. She needed help. She knew she needed help and Hen could get Evan so he could be the one to help her.
(Y/n) struggled to try and take another deep, rumbling breath and she held it in her lungs, waiting out the snapping pain in her abdomen before she tried to speak.
"Can y-you g… get Evan for me? I'm n… not well." There was no other way to put it and (Y/n) didn't want Hen panicking and trying to open the door to help. She didn't want anyone's help even if she knew she needed it. She needed Hen to think she was being sick so no one would crowd around the bathroom and try to listen in and bustle their way in to help her.
"Sure, can I do anything to help you? Maybe give you an examin-" Hen was a trained paramedic, she could go get her bag and check (Y/n)'s vitals and see if she could do anything to help her.
"Evan. Please."
"Okay, I'll go fetch him." The worry was evident in her voice but as soon as she left the room, (Y/n) let out a sob and crumpled her chest over onto her knees. Her arms bound around her lower waist and she doubled over, tucking her head down to smother her cries and soak up her tears and runny nose.
Her stomach was on fire, it felt like her intestines were being twisted and pulled down and her chest was burning like she was on fire on the inside. All she wanted to do was curl up as small as possible and pass out to make everything stop. She wanted to wake up at home in bed with Evan and have this be a bad dream or a distant memory from weeks ago that she didn't have to remember.
She heard the door open again and for a second, she froze, trying to stop herself crying and control the shaking just in case more people were coming in. But she only heard one familiar set of footsteps. One set of heavy clad boots that carried a lot of weight when they bashed into the floor. It was only Evan who came in and the door shut behind him. She was safe.
"Baby? Baby it's me. Hen said you're not feeling well." Evan moved towards the only closed cubicle and pressed his left arm against the door while his right hand lightly tapped on the door to let her know it was him. "Can you open the door for me baby girl?"
(Y/n) stretched an arm out and pulled the bolt across before she coiled back in on herself. Her arms stayed around her waist and she tucked her face down into her knees so she didn't have to see her husband's worried, panicked gaze and feel embarrassed and stupid.
Evan rolled his lips together and took a deep breath when his eyes set on his wife. Panic rolled through him in waves that he couldn't control. He wasn't sure what to do or where exactly to touch her but he knew there was very little he could do if they were both in this tiny cubicle with (Y/n) folded up like a piece of paper.
He took two steps forward and crouched down on his knees in front of her. His hands reached out and gently cupped her exposed thighs while he kissed the top of her head.
"Baby… can you talk to me, hm? What's going on?"
His hands started to move in deep circles into her thighs but he felt worse the longer (Y/n) kept crying. He could hear her panicked breaths running away without her and she was bubbling and gasping and trembling all at once.
"Alright, sit up for me," His hands moved to her shoulders and he slowly eased her up and straightened up in front of her so they were level. "That's better. Now I need you to tell me what's going on. You're clearly in agony, baby, can you tell me where the pain is?"
Evan cupped (Y/n)'s chin between his thumb and finger and kept her head level with his so she could look at him.
He could see the pain written across her face and shown in her cries and trembling body, but that wasn't enough. Evan couldn't begin to help if he didn't know why she was suddenly in agony, where the pain was coming from and why it was happening.
He looked down when (Y/n) pressed both her hands into her abdomen and pushed so hard he fretted she was going to bruise herself. But when Evan glanced his eyes down, he gulped when he looked at her underwear. Blood. Something told him this wasn't the usual period cramps, he'd never seen (Y/n) in agony like this before and she would of told him if it was her period causing the problem. And if it wasn't, why was she bleeding?
His hand rubbed across his jaw and down his neck in anxious habit before he sighed.
"I'm gonna move you just a little, okay? I need to get you out of here because we both don't fit. Take some deep breaths for me baby girl."
With his arms wound around her waist as carefully as he could and (Y/n)'s head burrowed into his neck and her hands on his shoulders, Evan slowly moved onto his feet and stood up. He held her tight and slowly shuffled backwards until he was out of the cubicle and (Y/n) was coiled into his chest.
(Y/n) dug her nails into his shoulders when he turned them both around and slowly lowered her down onto the tiled floor before he moved to kneel beside her.
"Can I take a look?" Evan motioned his hand towards (Y/n)'s stomach, he was getting nowhere asking her questions when she seemed to be in too much shock to cooperate with him.
When she nodded, Evan carefully peeled her hands off her stomach and lifted up her shirt. He pressed the base of his hands around her tummy and down near her hips to try and feel for any lump or abnormality without applying too much pressure to hurt her. He didn't like the reaction he got; flinches, whimpers and then a bursting cry when he pressed below her belly button.
Evan suddenly froze when (Y/n) screamed. She slumped forward, latched both her hands around his left arm and pulled it towards her chest. Her temple pressed deeply into his shoulder and her knees pulled up as she screamed into his shirt and made his body come over in shivers.
"What? Baby what's wrong- what did I do?"
"Baby."
"What?"
Clamping her lips together, (Y/n) pulled on Evan's hand and moved his palm between her thighs. She could see the confusion written on his face when his brows narrowed and his lips parted slightly in a way that showed he didn't understand what she was trying to show or tell him. She tugged on his hand until he finally took a deep breath and shuffled round to kneel between her legs.
His hands were gentle when they clamped around her thighs and parted her knees to the side but (Y/n) could see all the colour fading from his face until he was left a pale grey.
"Oh fuck… Oh- baby how the Hell are you in labour?!" Evan dug his fingers down into (Y/n)'s thighs until he was leaving indents and bruises in his wake.
How could she be in labour?
It wasn't possible. (Y/n) couldn't be pregnant. She didn't look pregnant, she didn't have a raised stomach or a bump or any abdominal movement to suggest she was having a baby. She'd had no more back pain than the rest of the team after a horrid shift. She didn't have morning sickness a few months ago. No swollen ankles, no cravings or obvious changes.
If she was in labour now that meant that she had been working when she should have been resting. She had been putting herself- and a baby, in harms way by continuing to be a firefighter. She had been around smoke, running in and out of fires, carrying heavy equipment, helping move people on back boards and going up the ladder. Everything she should have stayed away from she had been doing.
When (Y/n) started to cry, Evan leaned down and kissed her knee and tried to rub his hands along her thighs. He didn't mean to shout or make her think he was angry with her. It wasn't as if she had been hiding the pregnancy from him and the rest of the team.
"I'm gonna go grab Hen and get a med bag-"
"No- oow, Evan don't leave me!" (Y/n) latched her fingers around his wrist and pulled him back as she leaned forward and screamed. Something was happening. He couldn't leave her, not for a minute, not even for a second. He had to stay with her.
"Okay, shh hey I'm right here…" He glanced around before a light bulb seemed to flicker and he reached around the the radio strapped on his belt. "Someone bring me a medic bag to the toilets. Now! I've got an emergency back here."
Evan leaned down and looked down between (Y/n)'s thighs before he sat up on his heels and started to unbutton his shirt. He slipped it off his arms and laid the shirt over his knees, leaving him in his trousers and vest.
"Baby, you need to push for me, if this really is a baby it's coming now."
His hands continued to rub up and down (Y/n)'s knees while he tucked his chest down near his knees. He had delivered a few babies on the job alongside Bobby over the years, but never one where a woman didn't know she was pregnant. And this wasn't just anyone or just a colleague at the station. This was Evan's wife. He was going to be a dad and he was only just finding out on the day his wife was giving birth.
No one was going to believe this.
(Y/n) leaned her shoulders up against the cubicle behind her and dug her nails into the back of her thighs as she cried out and screamed. Tears drenched her face and a hoarse scream clawed at the back of her throat.
"Buck? What's going… on?" Unease and confusion tore through Hen when she pushed open the toilet door and held her breath when she looked over at the couple. they were sat in the middle of the floor with (Y/n) slumped up against the cubicle and Evan knelt between her legs with his shirt in his hands.
"Got any clamps in that bag?"
"Any… what are you doing?"
"She's having a baby so find some fucking clamps and help me!"
A quiet mutter of 'oh my God' blurted past Hen's before she slumped down to her knees next to Evan and started rummaging through her bag. Every few seconds, she lifted her head and leaned to look over Evan's arm just to check that this wasn't some prank. Or that Evan hadn't got this drastically wrong and was preparing for an entirely wrong situation.
"Head's out… come on, one more push then you're done baby." Evan shuffled his shirt a bit higher over his hands that were shaking when he curled them around his baby.
His baby. God, he was going to be a dad. How was he going to be a dad when they weren't prepared for this at all? They had nothing ready for a baby, not even a single onesie. What were they going to do?
"Well done! Look at that, a little girl," Hen pressed her fingers to (Y/n)'s wrist and checked her pulse while her other hand rubbed up and down her arm to try and keep her calm.
Evan's arms began to tremble as he ran his hand up and down the newborn's back until a little string of whimpers and cries left her ruby red lips. He swaddled his shirt around her and brushed his face against his shoulder to clear away the tears so he could see her properly.
He had a daughter.
He waited patiently for Hen to put two clamps onto the cord and cut it before he leaned between (Y/n)'s legs and carefully eased their girl onto (Y/n)'s chest. When (Y/n) curled her shaking hands over their baby's back, Evan held her wrists and smoothed his thumbs up and down her skin to try and keep her calm because he could see she was going into shock.
"You really had no idea?"
"Do you think we'd of had her on shift if we knew?" Evan sassed back with an air of anger about his words.
Neither of them would be on shift right now if they knew (Y/n) was nearly nine months pregnant. (Y/n) wouldn't have been on full duty if she knew and she would of been on maternity leave by now if they had some prior knowledge about their daughter coming into the world.
"What's the emergency in here- oh- oh Hell. Eddie get a gurney, Chim fire up the ambulance." Bobby clamped one hand down on his hip and ran the other up and down his face when he looked over at the three of them on the floor with a newborn crying between them.
"Placenta is in tact but you're bleeding a bit, I'll give you something to clot your blood." Hen rummaged around in her bag when she noticed a small puddle of blood forming on the floor between (Y/n)'s thighs. At least the placenta was all together. The last thing they needed with a surprise baby was an operation to remove a broken part of placenta.
"Evan…"
Moving her arms, (Y/n) nudged their girl towards him when the shaking got worse and she felt like she was going to be sick. A baby on her chest was a sudden, comforting weight but when she felt sick, it was also a suffocating feeling.
She closed her eyes and tipped her head back against the cubicle, pulling her arms into her chest when Evan gently eased their daughter into his arms. She coiled her arms tightly together to try and make the shaking subside but she was grateful when she felt Bobby kneel down on her other side. (Y/n) was grateful when Bobby held her hand, he didn't mind the shaking or her tight grip and he rubbed his free hand up and down her shoulder.
"Well this is one Hell of a surprise,"
"We're gonna need some time off," Evan rolled his lips together, supressing his smile when he looked down at the new bundle in his arms. He would need some emergency annual leave now. He didn't have the time to put in a request four weeks in advance and wait for approval.
Evan could feel a headache forming behind his eyes already at the thought of having to go and buy everything. Right now. Today. Or tomorrow at the very least. They needed everything from clothes to a crib and bottles and nappies and Evan was going lightheaded from the thought.
"Do you know how much paperwork I'll have to do now?" His smile showed he was only jesting.
Evan needed time off now and (Y/n) was going to be off work for a few months, starting from today. Bobby was going to have to find a replacement for (Y/n) while she was on maternity leave. He would need to do a report to the chief to explain why she needed the time off so suddenly and explain this situation and how they came to have a birth in the station.
It would be investigated to make sure (Y/n) hadn't kept this a secret or that Bobby hadn't put her in danger and forced her to work through her pregnancy since he hadn't given any papers to say one of his team was pregnant.
"No one's going to believe this… I've got to ring Maddie- oh God, and my parents." No one was going to believe Evan when he told them he now had a daughter. Not that he was going to have a daughter or that (Y/n) was pregnant, but that she had given birth,
He was going to have to explain to Maddie that she now had a niece and get Maddie to help explain to their parents that their first grandchild had been a wild surprise.
"Oh my God what happened in here?!"
625 notes · View notes
munson-blurbs · 4 months
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Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries
Day 12 of TUI-Mas
Warnings: pregnancy, allusion to smut, contractions, water breaking, labor and delivery, and Eddie wasn't there, epidural, medical emergency, lots of fluff
WC: 4.3k
A/N: I could not have written this piece without @the-unforgivenn 💚 everything accurate in this fic is because of her, and everything inaccurate is because of me. I love you, Annie. Thank you for asking my random birth-related questions at all hours.
Divider credit to @saradika
November 4, 1999
At nine months pregnant, everything hurts.
Perhaps that’s why when you wake up for work with an extra pinch in your back, you cast off any worries. Or maybe it’s because you still have over a week until you’re due, and first babies tend to take their time arriving, so there’s no possible way that today is the day.
You shrug on a sweater and your most comfortable pair of maternity jeans, your body heavy with pregnancy and fatigue. Your movements are sluggish, even more so than usual, and Eddie notices as he stands out the counter, shoveling a spoonful of Honey Nut Cheerios into his mouth.
“You okay, Sweetheart?” he asks, tongue darting out to swipe a drip of milk from his lower lip.
Nodding, you massage just above your tailbone in a meager attempt to ease the pain. “Mhm,” you lie, grabbing two granola bars from the pantry. You unwrap one and take a big bite, letting the chocolate chips melt in your mouth. “Just ready to have this baby.” Another lie, or possibly a half truth; while you’re eager to have your body to yourself again, the prospect of labor and delivery terrifies you.
Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead, his palms gently rubbing your bump. “Eleven more days and then we’ll be a family of four.”
“Baby Brother is taking forever to get here,” Harris laments from his seat at the table, spearing a banana slice with his fork. He glances at your stomach with impatient eyes. “Can’t you do something to hurry him up?”
You cough as your husband’s cheeks flush pink; he rakes a ringed hand through his curls. No doubt he’s remembering last night when he’d innocently lifted your belly to relieve some of the pressure, only to find himself hard as a rock as his fingers lightly dug into your skin. I’ll go slow so I don’t send you into early labor, he’d remarked with a teasing wink. 
“Gotta be patient,” Eddie says now, seemingly having recovered from the brief flashback. He slurps the remaining milk from the bowl and stifles a belch, reaching for his jacket and keys. “Have a great day at work,” he kisses you, smiling against your lips, “and school.” He ruffles Harris’s hair, and just like that, he’s out the door. 
Harris finishes his breakfast, placing his empty plate in the sink and scampering to the door to put on his sneakers. You watch enviously as he ties them with ease; you’ve been relegated to slip-on shoes until your feet are no longer swollen. 
“Come on, Mommy,” he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulders. “I don’t wanna miss the bus.”
You silently pray that the short walk to the bus stop will ease your muscle tension, taking careful steps as you trail behind the far-too-energetic-for-8 AM little boy. 
Eleven more days. Only eleven more days, you tell yourself. The reminder has tears prickling along your lash line in a double-edged sword. You don’t think you can handle eleven more days of this discomfort, but will you truly be ready to have a newborn baby in less than two weeks? Once you give birth, you can no longer shield your baby from the world’s dangers and cruelties. Will your love be enough? Will you be enough? And how can you possibly figure it all out in just eleven days?
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Your mantra of eleven more days turns out to be just six hours. Since Will became a teacher two years ago, the two of you have made it a habit to spend time together after the students’ dismissal. You’re preparing art materials for tomorrow’s class when you feel it—a trickle of liquid sliding down your leg. 
Your eyes widen, heat crawling up your neck and into your face. I peed myself at work. It had happened once last month, but it was preceded by a sneeze, and you were already in the parking lot about to go home. When you’d told Eddie that evening, the two of you laughed so hard that you’d wet yourself again. 
But this feels…different. 
“Oh, no.” There’s another small stream, but it isn’t accompanied by any relief on your bladder. Your worried murmur gets Will’s attention, and he looks at you with concern. “I think my water broke, but I don’t know…it might just be pee…” Your voice trails off before you can speak in circles. 
Will leaps to his feet. “Okay, what do you need me to do?” The pair of scissors he’s been using to cut out paper stars clatter to the table as he rushes to your side. 
“Call Eddie,” you mumble, gripping your bump as a cramp—most likely a contraction, you realize—squeezes at your pelvis. “Tell him to—shit—to get my bag from the apartment and bring it to the hospital.” You bite your lip to stifle a groan. “I’ll call Wayne and ask him to get Harris from the bus.”  
He nods, dialing from the classroom phone as you rattle off the record store’s number. You pull your own Nokia cell phone—a purchase Eddie had insisted upon after you got pregnant, wanting to make sure you and Baby Munson stayed safe. 
“So, um,” Will hesitates after you’ve hung up with Wayne, ending the conversation with a promise to let him know as soon as the baby is born, “Eddie was in the middle of a guitar lesson, so I left a message with one of his employees—”
Please don’t say Ev, you wordlessly plead. Anyone but the stoner who can barely remember to show up to work on time. 
“Ev, I think?”
Shit. 
Will hooks his arm with yours, providing you with the stability to stand up. “Let’s get you to the hospital, all right? Maybe it’s a false alarm or something.”
You nod, but deep down, you know that this baby is on his way. Call it mother’s intuition, you muse wryly. 
After a quick stop in Principal Sinclair’s office to explain the situation, Will helps you into his Chevy Impala, grimacing along with you when another contraction hits. “Should we be timing those?”
You grit your teeth. “Shit, y-yeah. I completely forgot.” All those birthing books you’d read cover to cover to prepare for this moment, and you hadn’t even remembered to time your own damn contractions. “We need to track how long they last and the amount of time between them.”
Will remains unfazed. “We’ll just start now,” he says simply, flicking his wrist to check his watch. “It’s 2:32. Let me know when you get another one.” He turns the key in the ignition, taking your hand before putting the gear shift into drive. “It’ll be okay. Eddie’s gonna get the message, and he’ll be here soon.”
It’s as though he can read your mind, and you exhale a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. He’s right; if you are in labor, it’s still early enough that Eddie won’t miss the birth. 
You hope. 
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Your contractions are one minute long and twelve minutes apart by the time you reach Hawkins General Hospital, growing slightly stronger with each wave. Will relays the information to the receptionist, his voice wavering with nerves and excitement despite his best efforts to remain calm. 
Before you know it, you’re being wheeled into a room, a laminated bracelet with your personal details dangling from your wrist. The clock on the wall indicates that it’s just past 3 PM, which means that Eddie should be here in a few minutes. 
As if on cue, the cell phone in your purse chirps its familiar ringtone. Harris had insisted that you change it from the standard option, choosing one that sounds like birds chirping. It normally reminds you of springtime mornings; right now, you’re ready to throw it through the window. 
Will passes it to you, and you punch the answer button with an impatient, “hello?”
“Hey, Sweetheart,” Eddie’s carefree demeanor wafts through the speaker, “just wanted to check in and see if you’re feeling any better. Did you want me to pick up something from the store on my way—?”
Dammit, Ev. “Eddie, my water broke at work. Will called earlier and left a message,” you manage, maneuvering around the heart rate monitor to brace for another contraction. “I’m—ughhh, shit—I’m at the hospital.”
“What?!” You can hear his sudden shift to panic; the phone drops from his grasp and clatters on the counter before he retrieves it, uttering a slew of swear words. “Okay, I’ll be right there. Your bag’s at home, right? Oh, and Harris! Shit, let me—”
“Wayne’s on it,” you tell him, hopefully putting an end to his mile-a-minute thoughts. “I just need my bag and my husband.” 
There’s a relieved sigh on the other end of the line. “I can provide both.” His humor peeks through his fear in subtle reassurance. “Be there ay-sap. I love you so fucking much.” 
“Love you, too.” A soft click tells you that he’s on his way, probably simultaneously scrambling for his keys and shouting at his employee. 
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Nearly an hour later, there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will blots the perspiration on your forehead with a cloth; out of the corner of your eye, you can see that he’s watching the clock as well. “He’ll be here,” he says as though reading your mind. Or maybe he’s scared that he’ll have to stand in for Eddie throughout the entire process. “In the meantime, I’ll flag down a nurse so we can get you that epidural.” His words are even, but his smile is uneasy, both of you well-aware that he is out of his element. Though he’ll deny it vehemently, you know you owe him. Big-time.
“Why don’t you grab yourself some food from the cafeteria?” You’d heard his stomach growling just before, and he can certainly use a break. 
Will nods, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Do you want anything?” he asks out of habit, cheeks tinged pink as you shake your dismal cup of ice chips. “Oh, right. Sorry.” He ducks out of the room as a nurse walks in. 
“Are we considering an epidural, Mrs. Munson?” she asks. Her bright smile is one you’ll be unable to return until after the pain medication takes effect. 
“Y-Yeah, please.” You shift uncomfortably while she examines you and announces that your cervix is four centimeters dilated. Part of you is relieved that labor is progressing at a pace where Eddie should arrive in time for the delivery; another part just wants this baby out of you, now. 
The nurse makes a note on your chart. “I’ll let the anesthesiologist know.” Another unreciprocated grin and she’s gone, off to poke and prod the next patient. 
Alone for a moment, you relish the quiet, save for the soft beeps of the machines you’re connected to. With great care, you caress the swell of your stomach where your son has developed from a microscopic speck to a full-term baby. 
“Your daddy will get here soon,” you murmur to your sensor-covered belly, “hopefully before you do.” You laugh for a second until another contraction squeezes you from the inside, shifting your expression from amused to pained. 
The anesthesiologist and Will arrive at the same time, the former pausing to let your impromptu birth partner enter first. He walks with more enthusiasm now that he’s eaten, though his meal threatens to reappear when he sees the doctor pull out the comically oversized needle. 
“Just lean forward,” she says to you, “you’ll feel some pressure, but once the medication kicks in, it’ll be worth it.” She offers you a kind smile before turning to Will and explaining, “you may need to help her.”
“Mhm. Sure.” Will mumbles, avoiding looking at the needle. You clasp your hand in his so you can sit up. The cool air raises goosebumps on the sliver of flesh no longer covered by the gown, but the chill is quickly replaced by a stinging sensation that has you gripping Will’s palm. You don’t realize the strength of your grasp until you hear him mutter, “ow,” but you don’t let go until the burning ceases. 
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly, watching him shake out his hand. “About all of this. I’m sure this isn’t how you wanted to spend your afternoon.”
He shakes his head and guides you back against the pillow. “Maybe not, but I’m glad I can be here for you.” Now that the threat of broken fingers has passed, he truly means it. 
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5:46 PM. 
You’ve been in the hospital for nearly three hours, and there’s still no sign of Eddie. Will’s casually flipping through a copy of People magazine that’s so outdated, Nick Nolte was just crowned the Sexiest Man Alive. He’s visibly more relaxed now that the medication has eased your pain, chattering teeth a welcome replacement for your anguished moans.
Your concern that Eddie will miss the baby’s birth has hardened into pure fear that something has happened to him. What if he lost focus while driving and got into an accident? The weather was overcast when you’d arrived at Hawkins General; it could have started raining since then and created slippery roads, perfect for hydroplaning. The thought of him hurt while you’re unable to help him has your insides churning, and for the first time, you’re grateful for an empty stomach.
Maybe you should call Wayne and find out if he had heard from his nephew. But if he hadn’t, then both of you would be stuck worrying and answerless; even worse, if he had and didn’t want to relay bad news while you’re in such a vulnerable state–
“I’m here!” 
Relief surges through your veins, Eddie’s panting voice music to your ears. You roll from your side onto your back to see your husband standing by your bedside. Sweat drips down his temples and pools under his arms with the pungency of someone who’d just completed a marathon. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, a jacket haphazardly tossed over his shoulder and your bag clutched in his hand.
He swoops down and places his lips on yours in a series of frantic kisses, his free palm cupping your cheek as though ensuring that the moment is real. He only pulls back when you do, getting a glimpse of your face.
“Where were you?” Not an accusation, but a question threaded with genuine care. 
His nose nudges yours as he sneaks in another peck. “Did you know that Chief Hopper retired?” Your brows furrow in confusion at his non-answer to your question. “Well, he did, and the sheriff’s department decided to throw him a parade. Today. Closed off a bunch of the side streets and backed up traffic on the main ones.” He coughs out a terse laugh. “Glad I quit smoking, or my lungs would’ve given up before I hit a half-mile.”
You mull over his response for a moment before it finally clicks. “Wait…did you run here?”
He tugs at his shirt fabric in an attempt to create a breeze that will cool him down. “It was more like a walk-run combo, but…yeah.” He shrugs, no big deal. “Parked my car in a random lot and just…booked it.” His shoulder gently sag as the adrenaline from his adventure wears away. “I gotta sit.”
It’s then that he notices Will, rising from the chair and placing the gossip rag on the table beside him. “Byers, holy shit,” Eddie looks at him incredulously, “have you been here with her the whole time?”
“He has,” you answer for him, managing a grateful smile in your friend’s direction. “And I can’t thank him enough.” Will returns the gesture and pulls Eddie in for a hug, wishing you both luck before slipping out the door.
Eddie brings his full attention back to you, lacing his fingers with yours. His thumb brushes the side of your hand, bringing small but strong comfort with each gentle touch. “Sweetheart, I am so, so sorry–”
“Eds,” you interrupt before he can continue his apology, “you’re here now.”
“Yeah.” Soft, distracted, overthinking. You can practically see the gears in head spinning, His second child and the second time he’d nearly missed the birth. He clears his throat and shakes away the thought with a toss of his hair, swiping his tongue over his lower lip. “How are you feeling?” He takes in the sight of you, his wife, the most beautiful being his cynical eyes have ever seen. “You look pretty damn good for someone about to have a baby.”
You laugh. “That epidural is a miracle from above.” You’ll gladly take the chattering teeth and the itchiness over the sensation of your pelvis imploding. Eddie doesn’t share in your amusement, still focused on his own shortcomings. “Hey,” you say quietly, pulling him out of his mind with just one word. “Don’t think about the missed message or the traffic. We’re having our baby today.” You bring his hand to the apex of your stomach in the final few hours that it houses the life you two created together.
“I love you.” 
His eyes shine with emotion. He’s here, not only in this moment, but throughout the entire pregnancy. He didn’t bury himself in music or booze or other arbitrary distractions. He’d read What to Expect When You’re Expecting cover to cover, had gone to all of the doctor’s appointments, made sure to keep the kitchen stocked with your cravings and free of your aversions. He’d picked up the household chores (and delegated some to Harris) to ease your workload and wiped your tears when you’d cried while watching two squirrels play in a tree. 
You never asked him to do any of it; you never needed to. 
“I love you, too.”
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It all happened so quickly. 
One minute, Eddie’s watching the monitor spike with a contraction, utterly bewildered by the power of pain medication. 
“You really can’t feel that?”
“Just some pressure, but nothing like earlier. I told you; it’s a godsend.”
After hours of strategic breathing, a plethora of ice chips, and a steady outpouring of love between you two, you’re about to tell him that you feel the urge to push. 
And then a nurse rushes in. 
“Mr. and Mrs. Munson,” he begins, urgency evident even through his calm exterior, “your baby is experiencing late heart rate deceleration. We need to begin delivery immediately.” He glances at Eddie, then at you. “I’m going to check your dilation to see if we’ll try a vaginal delivery or prepare for a cesarean birth.”
 The blood drains from Eddie’s face as he processes the information, the lighthearted energy completely zapped from the room. “Is…is she…are they…”
The nurse finishes the examination, removing his rubber glove. “Ten centimeters,” he announces. “I’ll page the doctor.”
It’s a whirlwind, with almost no time for panic to set in. The doctor and the other nurses arrive immediately, and when Eddie takes your hand, you can feel him trembling. 
He takes a deep breath, willing himself to be strong for you. Your face says it all: you’re terrified, and you need him to be your rock.
“You’ve got this, Sweetheart,” he whispers fiercely, pushing past the lump in his throat. “You’re the strongest fucking person I know, and I’m so lucky that you’re having my baby.” He kisses your forehead; out of the corner of his eye, he sees the medical staff preparing for delivery. His heart skips a beat, and the realization hits that he’s about to be a father of two.
You’re exhausted, a salty mixture of sweat and tears decorating your face. Gritting your teeth, you push while Eddie coaches you, reminding you to breathe and allowing you to swear at him without even batting an eyelash. It’s mostly a blur, with all of your energy concentrated on getting this baby out, but you vaguely recall telling him that he’s not allowed to even think about touching you again.
“Almost there,” he cheers, flashing an awestruck smile so wide that his cheeks ache. “C’mon, you can do it! Oh, my god, you’re a goddamn superhero.” 
Three giant pushes later, you hear the telltale newborn wail as a nurse coos, “Happy birthday, little man! Here’s your mama!” She gently places your tiny baby on your chest, quickly wiping off the vernix covering his body. 
“He’s here!” you manage through simultaneous laughter and cries. You carefully hold him against you, kissing the wisps of curls on his scalp. “Hi, baby boy!” Turning to Eddie, you blink away the mist coating your eyes. “We have another son,” you choke out.
He just nods, relishing in the wonder of becoming a father again. His pointer finger grazes the baby’s little half-closed fist, only looking away when the nurse asks him if he’d like to cut the umbilical cord. “Y-Yeah. Please,” he awkwardly adds, doing exactly as he’s instructed. 
As the baby is lifted from your torso to be assessed and measured, Eddie kisses you with a passion you’ve never felt before, even from him. You can see that he’s crying, too, and he wipes his cheeks haphazardly.  
“I’m so proud of you,” he says, punctuating the statement with another kiss. “I couldn’t have asked for a better mother for my kids.” His nose rubs yours tenderly. 
You smile at him. “Do you want to call Wayne? I won’t be up for visitors until the morning,” you add, “but I just want to let him know that the baby’s here, happy and healthy.”
“In a bit,” he murmurs, watching the nurse carefully swaddle his newborn son in a hospital blanket. “I just wanna hold him first.”
Eddie takes your baby from the nurse, shifting to support his head. “Hey, buddy. I’m your dad.” His body slowly sways as he rocks back and forth. “You gave us quite the scare just now. I see you’re following in your big brother’s mischievous footsteps.” He swears his heart melts when the infant opens his mouth to yawn. “Yeah, you’ve had a busy day. Same here. But it was worth it, huh?”
He wears fatherhood so naturally, so perfectly. You wish you could capture this feeling in a jar and save it forever. For now, you settle for watching him fawn over his newest son, your eyelids heavy with exhaustion. The last thing you hear before you fall asleep is Eddie murmuring, “and let me tell you: you have the best mommy a kid could ever ask for.”
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Morning arrives after a restless sleep. You know the nurses are just following protocol when they examine you every hour, but that doesn’t mean you have to be happy about it. 
But the next knock on the door is one that you welcome willingly. Harris and Wayne stand there, waiting for permission to enter. You smile when you notice Harris shuffling his feet and shaking his hands in an attempt to expel some excess energy. 
“Come on in,” Eddie whispers, beaming, “there’s someone very special we’d like to introduce you to.”
Harris rushes to your bedside, peering at the bundle in your arms. “My baby brother!” he squeals, jumping up and down. 
Eddie puts a finger to his lips. “He’s sleeping, so we have to be quiet, okay?” He ruffles Harris’s hair as the boy nods. “Do you wanna hold him?”
“Yeah! I mean, yeah,” Harris lowers his voice, sitting down on the bed. You scoot over, careful not to move too quickly, and he melds into your side. He’s always been small to you, but compared to his baby brother, he seems so grown up. 
“Okay, hold out your arms like this,” Eddie instructs, demonstrating the correct position, “and you’re gonna make sure to keep his head nice and safe, because he can’t hold it up on his own yet.”
Harris sports a look of concentration as you and Eddie work in tandem to place the baby in his arms. “He’s got the teeniest nose I’ve ever seen.”
Wayne laughs at this, watching his older grandson snuggle his youngest. “Does this little fella have a name yet?”
“Oh, right.” Eddie chuckles. “Gentlemen, this is Hendrix William Munson. ‘Hendrix’ after one of the most talented guitarists to grace this planet, and ‘William’ after an amazing friend and substitute birth partner.”
“Hendrix,” Harris repeats incredulously, never taking his eyes off of his brother. “I’m Harris. I talked to you when you were in Mommy’s tummy, remember?” Hendrix lets out a long exhale, like he’s acknowledging the question. “I know you’re still too little right now, but when you get big, we’re gonna play together all the time. Except when I’m at school.” He looks over at you expectantly. “Can I bring him to school with me? Like for show and tell?”
“Maybe when he’s older,” you say, lacking the bandwidth to point out the logistics of his request. 
Harris wrinkles his nose, but his expression quickly softens. “Yeah, you’re right. He can’t even do any tricks yet.”
It’s quiet for a moment, everyone focused on the two Munson boys. Surprisingly, Wayne is the one who breaks the silence. 
“You two have one beautiful family,” he muses, an arthritic finger grazing Hendrix’s blanket. “Y’should be proud of yourselves.”
Eddie gives his uncle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Couldn’t have done it without ya, Old Man.”
Wayne knows this, accepting the compliment with a bashful grin but saying nothing further. 
Peacefulness surrounds the five of you, soft conversation seamlessly weaving its way into the calm. You can’t kid yourself; most days will be pure chaos, balancing spit-up and school plays, field trips and feeding schedules. And once Hendrix starts walking—and running—you’ll need all cylinders firing. 
But today, right now, you soak in the serenity. Just you and your boys. Your family. 
--
473 notes · View notes
voyeurmunson · 5 months
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Memory Lane: Steve Harrington One Shot
Summary: (Older Steve x reader) You and your husband Steve decide to go on a hike. When you come across your old make out spot it sends you down memory lane and reminds you of all the good times you had there. And all the filthy things you used to do. ;) ⚠️explicit sexual content. minors DNI⚠️
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“I think I’m getting old.” Steve pants as he wipes a bit of sweat from his forehead. You snort and roll your eyes at him as you continue up the incline of the trail, leaves crunching under your feet.
“Okay, grandpa.” you tease, turning around jogging backwards, earning a cheeky smile from him.
“Show off.” he smirks, jogging after you. You feel the cool fall wind on your cheeks as you spin around, sprinting away from him. His laugh echoes behind you as he hurries to catch up.
You squeal as he tackles you to the forest floor, his body landing on top of yours. His cheeks are rosy, his brown locks wildly disheveled, sticking out from beneath his yellow beanie.
You pout up at him. “You’re gonna break my back.” you joke and he smiles, leaning down kissing your lips gently, his scruff tickling your cheeks.
“Okay, grandma.” he laughs lightly, rolling off of you.
You stand up, brushing the leaves from your legs as you spot a familiar landmark to the left. Skull Rock. You smile reaching out to take his hand as you pull him closer. You can remember it so clearly. Meeting him here on those summer nights, being tangled in each other’s arms. It started as a simple make out spot. One that wasn’t exactly new to him. But you never thought the two of you would end up here now. Married with kids. A little house in a cute neighborhood.
You remember the excitement every time you got a call from him. The butterflies that would fill your stomach. And the first time he touched you was here. The first time you ever made him cum was right in this spot. His face forever burned in your memory.
“How long has it been since we’ve been here?” Steve whispers. His eyes meet yours as he leans against the old stone. Is he thinking the same thing? Thinking about all the times we had here.
“Too long.” you smile up at him, pressing your body against his. You kiss him. Softly at first, slowly increasing in intensity. Your arms wrap around his neck as his hands come to rest on your hips. You moan into his mouth as your need for him grows.
“Kiss me like you used to.” you murmur, taking a fistful of his hair as you press your body even closer to his. His tongue greets yours hungrily and you smile as you feel his hands move to your ass. He lifts you suddenly, spinning you around until your back is pressed against the cool rock.
“Baby..” he moans as you both pant into the kiss, your tongues swirl together wildly as he squeezes your ass, your hips grinding against his waist.
You wrap your lips around his tongue, sucking forcefully, pulling a rumble from his chest. His lips move to your neck, sucking fiercely, the pressure of his lips sure to leave a bruise behind. You couldn’t remember the last time he had marked you so publicly.
You tighten your grip on his hair as your head falls back giving him more room to litter your skin with his love bites.
“Steve..” you whimper desperately as his teeth sink into your soft skin. You push him off of you, dropping your feet back to the ground. You grab his jacket pushing him against the rock instead as you drop to your knees.
You can see his hard on through his sweatpants making you throb in between your thighs.
“Right here?” he exhales as you hook your fingers in the hem of his sweats dropping them to his ankles.
“We used to do it all the time, baby. Don’t you remember?” you purr, taking his hard dick in your hand.
“Y-Yes.. oh shit, baby.” he stutters. You spit on his cock, using your saliva to glide your hand up and down quickly.
“Holy shit, honey.” Steve pants as you bring his cock to your lips, focusing on the tip. Little kitten licks making his eyes fall shut. You kiss his thick head, moving your wet lips all around the mushroom tip, tasting his precum on your lips.
“Sweetie, I- mmm.” he struggles to form a sentence as you finally take him in your mouth.
You moan around his cock, sucking sloppily, looking up at his face full of pleasure.
“Yes.. oh my god, yes.” he mumbles as his head falls back against the rock behind him. You bring your nails to his thighs, sinking them into his skin as you swirl your tongue, bobbing up and down.
Praises fall from his kiss swollen lips as you gag and splutter around his thick member.
It had been a while since you’d given him head like this. Where you just couldn’t get enough. Where you craved to have his cum pour down your throat. Life gets busy and becomes routine and sometimes you forget the days where you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Not anymore.
The noises coming from your husband are ones you haven’t heard in so long. You’re dripping from his raspy moans, his needy little whimpers. His jaw is slack, eyes rolled back into his head as brings his hands to your head.
“Baby.. oh fuck..”
He starts to gently press your head down, guiding his long cock deeper into your throat. Your eyes fill with tears as you do your best to relax your muscles.
You trail your fingers around to his ass, pulling his hips into you. He takes the hint and begins happily fucking your throat. Spit leaks from the corners of your lips as he uses you for his pleasure. He’s rough, slamming into your throat, fingers digging into your cheeks as he thrusts into you.
Tears stream down your face in little rivers as you attempt to hollow your cheeks. Your throat is sore already, you can’t imagine what it will feel like when tomorrow comes but you don’t care. You’ve missed this side of him. Animalistic, feral, slightly arrogant. King Steve.
“Look at you on your knees. You love this cock. L-Love having me pound your fucking throat, don’t you?” he chuckles and you nod through your tears. He sticks his foot between your thighs, his hiking boot landing right beneath your warmth.
“I can only imagine how wet you are, honey. Want you to cum too, angel.” he looks down at you with a cocky grin as he lifts the toe of his boot, pressing against the wet material of your leggings.
Holy shit.
You drop a little lower, slowly beginning to grind on his shoe, the friction making you moan immediately.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” Steve moans as you look up at him fluttering your lashes. You speed up your hips, grinding your clit across his shoe, your orgasm building quickly.
“Gonna cum in that pretty mouth, baby. Want you to swallow for me.. j-just like you used to.” he grunts, his cock driving into your throat rapidly. You nod again, pleasure pulsing through you as you rut against the toe of his boot.
Your moans and cries send vibrations all around his dick as you both lose control. Your hips buck against him in short spasms as your pussy flutters around nothing. You force your eyes open to watch his face as he pumps your mouth full of his warm seed.
You swallow around his length as his cum coats your throat, his cock twitching uncontrollably in your mouth. He praises you, mumbling incoherently, wiping your tears away with his thumbs as he gives you every last drop.
You slide your lips off of him and he pulls you back to your feet.
“Oh my fucking god.” you laugh breathlessly, kissing his soft lips, your fingers threading in his brown hair. Steve’s chest is rising and falling rapidly, his breathing heavy as you kiss him.
“Call a sitter, because I’m really gonna break your back when we get home.” Steve burns, his eyes still gleaming.
Fuck yes. You bite your lip, leaning in closer. “Yes sir.”
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wileys-russo · 8 months
Note
little blurb about supportive arsenal gf finding out lessi is starting 🥹
two posts in one day, spoiling y'all
debut II a.russo
"lessi did you grab my training top by accident with yours?" you called out as you rummaged through your closet with a frown. "babe?" you called out again a little louder when your girlfriend didn't answer.
"no! are you sure you didn't already pack it?" the blonde called back from down the hall where she was sat in the spare room on the bed, laptop balancing on her knees as she worked on an assignment. your own shared bed was covered with your clothes as you of course had left it to the last minute to pack, your girlfriends own case already down by the front door ready for lotte to pick you both up tomorrow.
"oh. yeah i did, thank you!" you smiled in relief as you searched through your suitcase seeing your training kit folded neatly in the bottom, the taller girl in the other room rolling her eyes with a small smile.
the two of you headed to sweden tomorrow for your first match of the season and the qualifier of the champions league, you were over the moon to finally be playing alongside alessia than against her.
and it finally meant no more hours of travelling on the tube or cross city roadtrips just to spend a day or two together and then weeks apart until the cycle repeated. the distance wasn't easy but with time and communication you made it work, and you had never pressured one another about switching clubs.
but seeing how poorly alessia was treated by her former club, a team she'd supported since her childhood, was hard to bare when you loved her dearly. but you were there by her side through it all, the same way she was when you tore your hamstring early last year.
"i'm packed." you announced with a relieved sigh finally joining the striker on the spare bed, collapsing beside her on your back and resting your head against her hip, scrolling through your phone.
"thank god i was worried we might miss the flight." the taller girl teased, not looking away from her laptop as her fingers flew against the keyboard and you playfully pinched her leg for the comment.
the two you sat together in a comfortable silence, you swapping your social media deep dive for a book as your girlfriend tangled a hand in your hair, nails scratching at your scalp as she read through her study material.
"i'm gonna go start dinner baby." you finished your chapter, marking your page and sitting up. "hey!" you laughed as your girlfriend poked at the slit of skin which appeared as your arms up with a stretch. "what's for dinner?" the blonde asked with a curious smile.
"whatever i can make with as many items as possible, the last thing i'd like to come home to is a fridge full of expired, soggy or mouldy food." you winced in disgust, scrunching your nose at the thought. "do you want a hand?" the striker offered, moving her laptop off her knees and tugging you to lay on top of her.
"hi. "hello beautiful."
you blushed at her words as the blonde kissed your nose with a soft smile.
"no it's okay you said you need to study so you can focus when we're in sweden, i'll come get you once it's done baby." you answered her previous question with a smile, kissing her softly in thanks.
"now hit the books!" you ordered playfully, rolling off of her and standing to your feet as the blonde gave you a salute and picked her laptop back off the bed.
~
"smells almost as divine as you." you smiled as hoodie clad arms wrapped round you, the taller girl pressing her front into your back as her chin rested on your shoulder, kissing your cheek affectionately.
"charmer." you grinned, a slight blush coating your cheeks as you relaxed into her hold. "so, i have news." alessia broke the silence, unwrapping herself from you and taking a step back as you turned round and raised a curious eyebrow.
"jonas called." your girlfriend started, fiddling nervously with the sleeves of her hoodie as you tilted your head, unsure where this was going. "i'm starting on wednesday." she finally revealed, watching as your mouth dropped open, her own curling into a shit eating grin.
"baby! you're getting your debut!" you squealed happily, launching yourself at her as the blonde stumbled backwards but caught you, your legs wrapping around her waist.
"i am so proud of you less. i told you he was impressed at training!" you beamed, kissing happily all over her face as the tall blonde let out a giggle making your heart soar.
"i did smoke you at the wind sprints." "hey your legs are like half the size of my whole body you have an unfair advantage."
"but i can't believe we'll finally be on the pitch together for the same team and in the right red." you teased lightly as alessia spun you around before taking a few steps forward and placing you down to sit on the counter top.
"so long as i'm with you i couldn't care what color i'm wearing."
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frenchkisstheabyss · 7 months
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୨୧ strawberry julius ୨୧
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୨୧ Pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x chubby!fem!reader x boyfriend!namjoon
୨୧ Genre: fluff, smut, rocker au/crime au combo
୨୧ Summary: The night of an event you've been stressing out about for weeks, you find stress relief in an unexpected but welcome place.
୨୧ Word Count: 2.4k-ish
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୨୧ Warnings: unprotected sex, double penetration, double creampie, anal, light choking, dirty talk, pet names, strong language (I can be a potty mouth, sry), pet names (love, baby), dom vibes if you squint, & that's all I think.
୨୧ A/N: I really wanted to mix two of my favorite au's with two of my favorite people so here we are. There's definitely gonna be a part two because my brain won't shut up about this. Anyway, I hope you like it my loves 🖤
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Punk music blares from the speakers in your living room, the distorted strumming of guitars and brutal drumming enough to shake the walls of your two story home. Playing your music as loud as you want whenever you want. One of the few perks that come with living on the edge of the city where your nearest neighbor's an elderly woman a mile down the road who never uses her hearing aid.
A hearing aid. You’ll need one any day now if you keep this up but you can’t bring yourself to care. You’re having the time of your life fresh out of the shower, dancing around in your towel while you tear your closet apart to find an outfit for the party tonight. Everything has to be perfect. Your hair. Your outfit. Your makeup. Jungkook says you’re perfect already. That everything else is just decoration.
With all the effort he put into getting your band invited to this party, your “decoration” needs to be more memorable than ever. Everyone who’s anyone on the punk scene will be there tonight. From journalists to producers to some of the women who inspired you to start a band to begin with. The pressure to make a lasting impression is insane and the precise reason you’re running on 4 hours of sleep right now. You’ve been moving non-stop since this morning, trying to outrun your doubts and insecurities.
“Love, slow down. Let me help you” Jungkook whispered in those moments he caught you burning yourself out. You don't know what you'd do without the sweetheart that he is. Digging through your top drawer you pull out a pair of fishnets, the ones he can't get enough of, and you're instantly reminded of the other side of him. Thoughts of all the filthy things you’ve done in these fishnets bring a tingle to your cheeks that spreads between your thighs like wildfire. 
“Not tonight” you say to yourself, tossing them back in, “I’ll never be able to focus.” Shaking off vivid memories of being fucked against the questionably clean mirror of a dive bar last weekend, you continue to raid your closet, carelessly making a mess that’ll be a problem for future you to deal with.
“Baby!” Jungkook shouts, stepping through the front door twirling his keys around his fingers. His heavy black combat boots hit the hardwood like the steps of a giant as he marches over to the speaker and turns the music down. “Baby! Where are you?” There’s an adorable pitter patter of feet from above before your voice sounds from the top of the stairs. “I’m here! Get everything you needed from the store?” 
His brain glitches. The store? Oh, yeah. That lie he told you about needing to run to the store for something. You never pressed him for specifics. A testament to the level of trust you have in him. Trust that hopefully won’t be shattered by the fact that he lied his ass off. He cuts his eyes at the tall man looming by the door, knowing that his presence is the only thing that’ll redeem him. 
“Uh, yeah, I did” he lies, appearing at the bottom of the stairs, “Could you come here for a second?” Without bothering to answer, you skip down the stairs, only hitting the second to last step before he has his arms around your plush figure. The towel bunches up around your waist, raising your towel just enough to allow your ass to poke out the bottom. He can’t resist brushing his fingers along the softness of your ass.
A move that reignites that tingling you felt earlier and has your lips latching onto his before he can say another word. Jungkook dives right in, shoving his hands beneath your towel to hungrily grip handfuls of your curves. There’s no time for this but he’ll make it. He has to. Something about you drowns out his reason. He’d postpone his own funeral if it meant he got to touch you one last time. 
“Does everyone who comes over get to watch or am I just special?” Namjoon teases, slamming the front door shut. Jungkook’s stomach sinks, suddenly remembering what he’d actually left the house to pick up. Yours sinks even lower. That voice. It hasn’t lived within these walls for years. Jungkook steps back, waving Joon over. “I, uh, got something extra from the store.” 
A half dozen emotions brew inside of you, none of them identifiable. You only know that your feet are glued to the ground. That your mouth is drier than it's ever been and your heart’s beating in your throat. Joon approaches you, his arms outstretched to welcome you into a hug. When you don’t budge, your pouty bottom lip the only part of you able to move, he pulls you into his arms anyway.
The strength of his hug, the love laced within it, heals something inside of you that has your vision going hazy with tears. Lifting you from the stairs, Joon brings you between him and Jungkook. They hug you from both sides the way they used to before Joon went away. 4 years in prison. Light work for washing dirty money but an eternity for your close knit trio. You haven’t laid eyes on him since that last day in court.
He’d only let Jungkook come visit, insisting that you shouldn’t be in a place like that. You lost count of the hours you spent in tears hating him for keeping you away but loving him too much for the feeling to ever stick. Your Joon didn’t belong locked away with killers and god knows who else. Everything he did, everything you did together, was to survive. He'd never hurt anyone and knowing he might be surrounded by people who would made being kept at a distance sting that much more.
There was no way you and Jungkook would’ve survived without each other. Him losing his best friend and you losing one of your loves. No matter how far your careers advanced, how nice this house was, or how much money you had tucked under the floorboards in the attic, nothing could change how incomplete you feel. How incomplete you felt.
“Ouch!” Joon cries, jumping when you pinch his side, “What was that for?” “What the fuck are you doing here?” you shout, wiping the tears from your eyes. Joon just laughs, “I still live here don’t I?” “Duh, you idiot! But you’re not supposed to—your release is months away—I thought—” You turn to Jungkook who grabs your hands, intertwining his fingers with yours before you pinch him too.
“Early release. I was gonna tell you, I just thought it’d be a fun surprise. Plus you were so freaked out about tonight. I just didn’t wanna psych you out. You mad at me?” Jungkook pouts, those brown puppy dog eyes pulling you in like they always do. “I’m not mad” you huff, rolling your eyes while leaning in to let him peck you on the cheek. Joon kisses you on the neck from behind, his large smooth hands massaging your tense shoulders.
You reach back, running your palm across his buzz cut hair, “I like the new hair. It’s kinda hot.” “Only kinda?” he asks, nipping at your neck, revenge for that pinch earlier. His hands slide down, patiently rounding your curves to reach your exposed thighs. “Stop” you giggle, a chill running up your spine, “I have to get ready.” Jungkook pulls his phone from his pocket to check the time. “We can always help you get ready” he grins, pushing his knee between your thighs to make enough space for Joon to run two fingers over your slit.
“It’s so wet down there” Joon hums, “Is that just from the shower or—.” Twisting free, you rush back up the stairs, stopping halfway up to glance back at them. “I still need to do my hair.” Jungkook shrugs, taking two steps toward you, “I’m pretty good with hair.” You swallow hard, wiping your sweaty palms on your towel. “And…and my makeup.” Joon tilts his head to see you better, “I can do that.”
Why are they like this? So annoyingly persistent. It’s not like you don’t want it. The thought had crossed your mind to have a quickie with Jungkook when you were standing in your bedroom zoning out with those fishnets in your hand. With Joon back you find yourself wanting it even more. Those feelings that overcame you are much clearer now. Passion. Love. Lust. Joy. All fighting for dominance and right now one in particular’s winning.
Look at them. They’re both so fucking handsome. And the closer they get the harder it is to ignore the voice in the back of your head telling you to give in. “Just a kiss” it whispers as Jungkook catches up to you, his lips dangerously close to yours. You close your eyes as your lips meet, his tongue snaking against yours. One kiss. Just one.
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Joon dreamt of being with you like this again. Him lying across the bed, pillows beneath him to keep him at the perfect angle to lower you into his lap. Fingers digging into the plush of your hips, he guides his length, coated in lube from base to tip, to that gorgeous ass he got a few nibbles of when you first took your towel off. “Joon…ah” you gasp, biting down on your bottom lip as the warm tip penetrates your tight hole.
Anal was never Jungkook’s thing. Seeing those cute heart shaped butt plugs you liked to wear when he had you bent over was the extent of his interest. Joon on the other hand had always been insatiable and time hasn’t changed that. “Fuck, still so tight for me” he groans out in pleasure, the tightness of your ass choking his dick the deeper he goes.
When he finally bottoms out, you fall back onto his bare chest moaning weakly, drool already leaking from the corners of your mouth. Earlier your body wouldn't even move. Now you can’t stop it from trembling, the fullness overwhelming you enough to turn your brain to soup.  Joon locks an arm around your waist, the other coming around so he can palm your breast. 
“Missed you” he whispers, rocking beneath you at a pace slow enough for his and your sanity. Your hand skims his forearm, nails digging in when he does a slight bounce to mess with you. He’s definitely put on some weight while he was away. Whatever they were feeding him, whatever weights he was lifting, you approve because he’s stronger than you ever knew him to be and you’re loving it.
“You sure you can take both of us?” Jungkook taunts, shifting his weight on the bed to hover between your legs. He places a hand on your knee, dipping two fingers into your core. He's achingly hard, twitching, leaking precum on the blankets at the sight of how wet you are. Your pussy glistens so beautifully, your walls clenching around his fingers while Joon fucks your other hole. Jungkook awaits your answer but he’s only met with your needy moans and cries.
“You have to say something, baby” he says, his thumb strumming your clit, “Tell me what you want.” The hand on your knee comes around your neck, his hold on you firm yet gentle. Joon slows his movements, offering you a second—and only that—to get your thoughts together. “Come on, you can do it. Tell us what you want.” Jungkook’s fingers are still working inside of you, mercilessly milking your g-spot.
“I…I can take it” you whine, forcing the words from your throat, “Fill me up. Please. Want it so bad. So bad.” “That’s my girl” Jungkook smiles, popping his fingers out of you. You watch as he strokes himself, using your arousal as lubricant. Joon’s hips begin to move again, leaving you pulsing in two places at once. Your clit stiffens as Jungkook rubs his tip between the silken folds of your warmth, sinking into you without warning. 
They take turns thrusting into you, one then the other, making sure you feel every arch and defining vein along their shafts. This perfect dance of pleasure and overstimulation has you crying out, tears leaking from watery eyes. Incoherent moans flow out into the ether and it’s not just you, it's them too. You can’t get enough of it, rotating your hips as best you can to pull the dirtiest noises out of them. Joon pulls your head back to kiss you and the moment you break for air Jungkook’s kissing you too, suspending you in a constant state of breathlessness. 
You’ve forgotten all about the party, your worries reduced to nothing by the ecstasy of this unexpected reunion. There’s nowhere else you want to be but here between the men you love, tension winding in your belly. You whine something between Joon’s lips and they just know what it is. Letting go of your throat, Jungkook slips his hand between your waist and his, rubbing your clit to push you over the edge. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!” you scream, ears ringing as juices stream from your core, making the sound of your bodies snapping together even sharper. 
You feel weightless, disembodied, floating above yourself, jerked back to reality only by the pressure of Joon coming inside of you. You hold his hand, pressing down onto him as you kiss him over your shoulder. At the same time you’re tugging at Jungkook’s hair, keeping him flush against you. “Harder” he begs, his thrusts growing sloppier the harder you pull. One final tug has him unraveling, another wave of warmth filling you just as the other fades away.
The energy in the room gradually comes down, heavy panting turning to light breaths as you cuddle beside each other, your sweat slicked bodies still tangled together. “Still need help with your hair?” Jungkook asks, lovingly petting your head. Joon peeks over to find you sleeping more peacefully than you have in years. He kisses you on the forehead, pulling the blanket over you. “I don’t think so.”
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devilishchaos · 8 months
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girl we need another smut with Ruben PLEASE
Shower | Rúben Dias Imagine
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Rating / genre: M (18+); smut, fluff
Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias
Summary: Y/N and Rúben have soft shower sex.
Warnings: Explicit smut, explicit talk, oral (m receiving), unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, swallowing, use of pet names "baby", "babe"
AN: domestic Rúben >>>>>>> <3 I hope that I delivered what you were asking for :) enjoy x
Word Count: 1 841 words
This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
You had it coming for a while, you knew it in the back of your mind. And it’s not like you weren’t looking forward to it, but just that the urges, that were slowly growing stronger for Rúben, inside of you took a backseat as real world deadlines threatened to overcome you.
Rúben had been staying home a lot more than usual since at the beginning of the season they basically have one match per week, the tiredness from all the performances in the last couple of months, coupled with the need to be with you and make up for the lost time, due to his hectic schedule, caused him to not want to leave the house. 
Coming back from work every evening, you were greeted with the sight of him whipping up something simple but delicious for you to feast on, his eyes getting all crinkled up as a smile covered his face whenever he heard you yell “I am home!”. He was playing the part of a perfect boyfriend to the T and you really couldn’t have been more thankful for everything that he was doing for you, even though you couldn’t always say it out loud. 
But behind his loving exterior was something he wasn’t really telling you, for fear of coming across as selfish when he could clearly see the amount of stress you were already in. You weren’t blind though and just like him, you too could see that he was in need of some affection and some attention, was in need of someone telling him he did well on the pitch and was still doing well at home, and you also knew you were that someone. 
You could feel it in his touch, lingering just a second longer than necessary, his fingers dipping under the hem of your shirt to rest against your skin. You could feel it in his kisses, turning hot and fervent despite starting out as soft and gentle. You knew he needed it and you knew he wasn’t going to be explicit enough and say it out loud nor he was going to pressure you into doing something you didn’t have the energy to do. 
Yet upon hearing the slow pitter-patter of water as you came back home, you had found your feet leading you towards the bathroom, your heart picking up its pace at the thought of Rúben taking a shower. The bathroom door unlocked as always, his steamy silhouette could be seen through the glass wall. You couldn’t tell what came over you in that moment, but before you could stop yourself, your hands were moving on their own, getting rid of your clothing piece by piece, until you were naked. 
Your hand came resting against the glass as you peeked inside, taking in the sight in front of you. Rúben looks gorgeous, the water trickling down his body and hugging him at all the right places, his shoulders and hipbones, making you want to lick the wetness away. The sight alone is enough to make you press your legs closer together, a need growing inside of you as you take your time admiring the beauty that is your boyfriend. 
That is, until a voice snaps you out of your thoughts, your eyes meeting Rúben’s as he calls you out. 
“You know you can join me, right?,” he asks, a slight chuckle lacing his playful tone as he sticks his hand out for you to take, pulling you inside and pressing you flat against his chest. He can tell what you’re planning and while it is something he’s been craving all these past days or weeks, now that you were right in front of him, he feels as if just having you so close to him is enough. 
And so he decides to show you, placing the softest of kisses to your crown as his grip tightens around your waist, the sensation making you lift your head up from his chest, a smile on your face. 
“You are so beautiful.” Rúben whispers and that’s all you need to lose your footing. 
Before either of you can realize, your lips are moving in sync with his, a rhythm both familiar and new, being set up as you dance around your desires. You don’t know who started it, but it’s not like it matters anyway. All you can think of in that moment is the way his tongue explores every inch of your mouth, his teeth digging into your bottom lip as you get lost in the love only he can give you. And it’s the same for Rúben, his senses getting overwhelmed as he finds himself getting high on you, on the way you make him feel. You’re all he could ever want and more, and every time you touch him, it feels like you’re reminding him of the reason he’s alive. 
So he takes it in his stride, finally letting go of his fears and his worries, completely losing himself in you, in the love he feels for you. His hands roam all over your water-covered body, from your cheeks to your neck to your breasts and hips, and he takes his sweet time caressing and feeling every single one of them, just like you do too, your own hands lying pressed flat against his toned body. You touch him everywhere, letting your focus shift from his hair to his biceps to the round cheeks of his butt, and as you do so, you also find yourself pulling away from his lips, crouching lower and lower till you’re on your knees in front of him. 
The sight makes something turn on inside of Rúben’s brain, his hands making their way to your cheeks again. But this time, he’s just a little more assertive, pulling you closer to his crotch, because he can tell you already have eyes for his cock. 
“Want a taste?” he asks, his voice hoarse already and a lazy smirk playing on his lips. You can only nod at that, biting your lip as you lean in, placing a kiss to his tip. And from the sigh that escapes from Rúben's mouth at the small gesture, you know it’s just like the first time for him, over and over again. 
“Then suck on it, babe.” his voice calls out again, pulling you out of your thoughts. 
With that, your hands are quick to get wrapped around his shaft as you take him into your mouth, making him throw his head back in the slightest of pleasure. As your tongue begins to roll around his head, you make sure to savor the heavenly taste of his finest delicacy, your teeth grazing against his flesh as you decide to make up for the time and the rounds you've lost out on. 
As you pick up the pace, your surroundings fade away, the sound of the water acting as background music while you continue to give head to Rúben, enjoying the effect you have on him. His hands guide you along, resting at your head, as your own take to massaging his balls, your cheeks hollowed out to the max. Maybe it’s the lack of touch that he’s been forced to go through for the past weeks, or maybe it’s the way you seem so determined on bringing him to his knees, but Rúben can’t seem to control the urge to cum right then and there, his body involuntarily thrusting his dick right down your throat and making you choke. 
“Go faster, please.” he groans, pretty sounds emanating from deep inside his chest as you oblige, going faster and harder as you begin deepthroating him. Countdown from ten in your head and that’s all you need to have him lose it, his seed seeping into your mouth as you lap every bit up. He tastes just as you remember or maybe even better because it’s been so long. As the last drops trickle down your throat, you let out a sigh of satisfaction, licking your lips before gripping his thighs to pull yourself back up. 
Your eyes meet his and you don’t miss the way he smiles at you, and you can’t help but ask, “Was I good?” and make him chuckle at your cuteness. 
“Incredible as always, meu amor.” Rúben says, leaning in to catch your lips in another kiss, his body weight pushing you flat against the glass wall. Maybe it’s you imagining things, but he somehow tastes even sweeter now, the aftertaste of his cum still fresh on your tongue as you make out with him once more. Parting your mouth open with his own tongue, he doesn’t leave a single spot untouched as his cock prods around your heat, silently seeking entrance. 
And you’re only too keen on granting him that, a whimper making its way out of you as you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer than closer. 
“I n- need you..” you whine, kissing him harder as you feel yourself grow more needy by the second. Lucky for you though, your boyfriend is a great listener, listening to your demand as he thrusts himself into you, penetrating into your pussy at long last. He feels so delicious like that, moving in and out of you as your thighs squeeze around his, your walls tightening around his length as he fills you up with himself. 
You’re a moaning, struggling mess within seconds, the water making everything foggy and slippery as he continues to thrust in you, massaging all the right places you didn’t even know existed inside of you. Every move of his hips, as they roll against yours, sends you into a frenzy, gibberish rolling off your tongue as he starts speeding up more and more. Your bodies mold into one as you claw at each other’s skin, wanting to be as close to the other as possible. You’re in bliss at that moment, the pent up stress from work and the sexual frustration finally coming to the fore and bursting like a bubble as you make love. 
He cums first, his cock still sensitive from your lip-service as his load fills you up to the brim, his thrusts not stopping as he leads you to your own orgasm. It feels like an eternity and like a single second at the same time, your sense of being completely distorted as you focus only on the pleasure, your nails digging into the skin of his back as he pumps into you one last time, making you ride out your climax in style and leaving you panting for air. 
As a new slew of moans racks through your body, he vows to drown them out in a kiss with his hands holding you in place. When he pulls away, the expression on his face is the most lovesick one you’ve ever seen. 
“Thank you.” is all he says, but it’s enough to fill your heart up with warmth as he pulls away, ready to dry you up and lead you to the bed for another round.
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mrylin · 1 year
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deep claws (wednesday addams/reader)
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so this was a request but i posted it accidentally and i lost it along with half of my work but that's ok! anon i hope you like it.
summary: there was a big bruise on your body, one that you tried to keep hidden from everyone and that worked for some days. that is, until wednesday catches you in the lie.
warnings: blood and bruised and much pain, wednesday will also be scarier than usual but all end up with a happy ending
With a heavy sigh, you pulled down your shirt that had a huge blood stain right on top of the poorly made bandage, feeling the burning come back ten times worse.
"You should tell someone about this." Enid said. She was standing on the edge of your bed looking at you with concern. You didn't want her to find out, but in the end it was unavoidable since she walked into your room when you were trying to get stitches on yourself.
"I will not. This school is already going through a lot of problems, they don't need another one." You spoke firmly, leaving no room for argument.
Enid was stubborn though, and wouldn't let it go. "But you know you can die from it. You can have an infection."
You agreed and pressed your hand on your waist, right over the cut, applying pressure and tried to get up. From the copious loss of blood, you were still dizzy and a little weak so you swayed to your feet. "Look, I'll be better in a minute. I promise."
"Wednesday will hate me for not saying anything."
"She won't find out from me." You said, swallowing when a strong dizziness brought you an overwhelming feeling of nausea.
Enid went to your side and guided you to your bed and helped you to lie down in a position that wouldn't open all your stitches, and stood looking at you. "I still think it's totally stupid."
You smirked. "You can rest assured that I will live for years just to annoy you."
For the first time since she found out about that situation, she gave a genuine laugh and smiled. Enid was a great friend and she cared about everyone, which you appreciated, but you preferred to keep your situation out of other people's ears.
A few minutes passed between the two of you talking and then the door opened, revealing an ever stoic Wednesday. She looked angrier than ever. "Hey, Wed." You greeted, trying not to let your voice shake.
She grimaced at the horrible nickname and walked across the room, dropping her purse at the bed. "How was your day?" Every day she asked you the same question and tried to demonstrate things around you more openly. She was doing really well at it.
"Boring. Good thing Enid came." The blonde smiled at you and placed her hands in front of her body, looking between you both. She was used to being in the same room and witnessing Wednesday's minuscule affection, but in that moment she really wanted to be somewhere else.
"I came and I'm leaving. Bye to both." She said waving. Before closing the bedroom door she said an inaudible 'be ok' and you smiled in agreement.
Wednesday walked over to your side and sat down, looking at you deeply. "You're different." She looked you up and down.
"What do you mean?" You laughed nervously.
She looked into your face and locked eyes with yours, as if all the answers were there. "You are pale, sweating and your hands are shaking."
You swallowed hard and tried to smile but failed as your body shuddered as a sharp pain shot up your spine. "I'm totally fine."
"This is obviously a lie." She said. "Are you hurt?"
Trying to prove there was nothing, you threw your legs over the side and braced yourself to your feet, bitterly regretting it when you felt sharp twinges. It was like someone was stabbing you over and over again with inhuman strength.
A loud, aching scream escaped your throat and you fell back, your whole body shuddering and twitching with pain. Wednesday quickly moved to hold your head and helped you to lie down better. "What happened?" She asked, scared.
You took the best breath you could and pulled your shirt up, revealing the bloody bandage. Not waiting long, she moved to grab the first aid kit you had by your bed, not caring about the things falling to the floor. Because of your small feat, your stitches had burst and your cut was redder. For the first time in her life Wednesday was hating a sight like that.
She didn't say anything as she cleaned up and tried not to hurt you with the stitches. You could see that she was angry, worried and scared, and you knew you were going to have to explain why of those cuts. "It was the hyde, wasn't it?" She asked, turning around to throw everything she'd used away.
"Yes." You said, your voice breathy and trembling. "I was walking near the woods when he attacked me. I was lucky I managed to escape before he killed me, but I earned this."
She turned and met your eyes. She was angrier than you thought. "I told you to stay away from there. You could have died."
You threw your head back against the headboard and took a deep breath. "I know, and I didn't really go to the forest, I was in the garden."
"You shouldn't go there. I told you how dangerous it was." This time the one who was angry was you.
"I'm not going to stay inside this place forever just because a sick person is killing people. I need to breathe, Wednesday." You swallowed, feeling your throat close up. "I will not stop living because of this."
She stood up and pinched her eyebrows. "One second more and you wouldn't be here anymore."
That was a baseless argument, since you didn't want and wouldn't stop doing what you wanted because of some monster. "You think death is so beautiful, maybe I would start to think the same thing once I met her."
Wednesday's breathing grew faster and heavier, her hands curled into fists and clenched until her fingers turned horribly white. You had said the wrong thing. "When I saw the cut I thought about how I could have lost you, that I would never see you again and in a second that became my worst fear. So don't play with it ever again."
Softening, you nodded and stretched out your other arm, asking her to lie down next to you. Wednesday climbed into bed and tried her best not to touch anything that might hurt you and rested her head on top of your chest. "I promise, Wed."
While you slept, weary with pain and weak, she watched over you. Seeing you there, on the way to get well, alive and safe, she promised that nothing and no one would ever hurt you again. She would make sure of that.
my first language is portuguese (brazil) and it's really hard translate it and that's why there can be some nonsense things (i know english but i'm not fluent unfortunately) i'm really sorry!!!
if you want you can send me a request :)
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