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#this is the closest i get to writing a blurb
dogydayz · 1 year
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In a strange realm between the written and the writer's, a conversation continues from the mist....
.
.
.
"You won't remember any of this, when we're finished here. So please, ask me whatever it is you'd like to know. For this moment alone, you have awareness of what exists outside your realm, of the words written, this itself is all a part of it, you know."
"I... Still dunno what half those words mean, but... Sure, I'll bite."
"...So... About... Everything ya told me already, that I'll apparently not even remember after... Whatever this is.... Why do I feel... Like my existence here... Er, there, is... That my 'writing' I guess... Is...." "That I've existed before. Before the here 'n now."
"Oh... I think... I know what you mean."
"Your existence is. A tad different to that of your old friends, or your old world."
"I... Kinda got the feelin's of such... But.... Why? What.... Was I, before? Why did I exist, why don't I.... Still exist as that?...."
"...Your past existence was vastly different, and had an untimely end. Plans scrapped, ideas tossed out, you disappeared without a trace, with an unknown fate."
"You were scattered into oblivion, your existence something of an anomaly, shrouded in controversy to many. Some became protective of what you were, while others picked up the pieces to build you again. Sometimes, similar to before, other times, a person entirely new."
"I am one of such people."
"....I speak in poetry not to make you think it was so dramatic, but rather to understand just how it can feel to see such potential tossed away for.... Admittedly, idiotic reasons."
"The reality of things is that... The fans surrounding your realm's stories and worlds... They have more abilities than the creators themselves. Specifically in that... We don't abide by 'legality' or 'regulations' when creating. No matter the amount of lawsuits we always pump out something new, and one of the many sketches upon the paper of my notebook happened to be you."
"I've found a type of passion in reusing and recycling, in a character-creation sense. You're too interesting to pass up. I speak of myself like I'm a mythical being, a god to you, but all I am is a person with a goal, and that goal is to create with what's been lost to time and.... A plethora of legal battles."
"... So... I stopped existin' cauuuuuse.... legal shit? That's. Ironic, heh."
"I'd say I agree there."
"There's... Not a lot more to be said, except... That I have plans for you. Even if those plans never make it as big as I'd hope, I still have my plans. So... You don't have to worry about disappearing again."
"That's... Nice ta know, even if I won't remember ya sayin' it."
"Well, then. I suppose this is goodbye, for now at least."
"...Eh, later, I.... Guess?-"
And as suddenly as he'd felt himself pulled into this strange, dreamlike realm, he found himself waking from his nap, any recollection of the past conversation disappearing from his mind....
Damn... Took a long nap and he still feels tired.
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kaitlynpcallmebeepme · 2 months
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Sea Sickness
Sea Sickness
Luke Hughes x fem!reader (established relationship, but still new)
Idea: Reader gets nauseous from being on the boat at the Hughes’s Lake House and snuggles up to Luke.
Requested: Nope. 
Author’s Note:  I know I’m bouncing around who I’m writing for, but I’m on a NHL spree right now. I also get nauseated if I'm on a boat or in the ocean for too long. Fun Fact: I wrote the beginning part of this on a note card while working by myself in the OR today. We had a really long case where I just had to check up on people during the middle of it (hence why I wrote this on a card because I don’t like going on my phone when I’m in the OR. It's unprofessional). I don’t know any of these people personally. The closest I’ve gotten to the team (that wasn’t just playing in the band at the games or when they were walking past us down the 2023 red carpet in tampa) was a tuba was talking to some of them in his plane row on the ride back from that trip (he ended up being the tuba you see in the senior picture from 2024) and one of the coaches had to share our bus on the way back from the 2023 frozen four game with his wife and two young daughters (I kept trying to get the younger one to smile at me unsuccessfully).  Someone from my hotel room also shared the elevator ride up with the entire Fantilli family the night they lost that game in 2023 (I think Adam also won the Hobey Baker award that same night). I’ve also been playing my lego lord of the rings game. Anyway, enjoy this little blurb.
Tagging some of my favorite Hughes/NHL writers, love y’all.
@wineauntie @thedevilrisen @winterbarnesblog @sc0tters 
I forgot to mention that this is kinda based on the cute stuff @bedsyandco writes
I'm now sad when I'm uploading this because a friend from college drumline has an incurable brain cancer. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers (he's only 19 or 20).
Requests are still open.  Feedback is always appreciated.  Also, tell me if you want to be part of a Tag List and I’ll tag you when I upload something new. If you want to only be tagged when I upload something for a certain character or shows, let me know as well.  
Warning: None, just general fluff. Feeling sick on a boat. 
Word Count: 488
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Being on a boat wasn’t your most favorite thing in the world, mainly because the last time you were on a boat, it got stuck in the middle of the laek and had to be towed back to shore (true story), but when your boyfriend Luke invited you to spend the weekend at the lakehouse with ihs brothers and friends, you weren't going to say no. The weekend had been filled with lots of eating, playing outside, and the boys being competitive at every game they pick up (even the old board game you brought to teach them how to play).  Just trying to keep up with them all was exhausting, so that’s how you ended up on the back of the boat enjoying the warm air instead of diving into the water again.  The boys had been going back and forth between wakeboarding and chatting on the boat deck. With them supplying the lake with plenty of waves, the constand up and down was starting to make your stomach sick.  You scooched over and made yourself comfortable laying your head on Luke’s shoulder.  He then opened his arms and wrapped you in his warm embrace so you could crawl on his lap and snuggle closer to his chest. 
“You feeling ok?” 
“Yeah, just want to stop the constant movement.” It was getting to a point were you just wanted to stop the constant movement.  It being really hot out didn’t help either. 
“We’ll head to shore soon. Then we can cool off inside.” 
Being wrapped up in Luke’s embrace with his fingers gently carding through your hair or down your shoulder leaving goosebumps in their wake and shading you with his fit body definitely helped keep your mind off of your stomach and the boat’s ever shifting movements.  Luke wasn’t much of a pda person, but you always encouraged him to show little bits of it at least in front of his family or close friends.  
Little did you know, that’s exactly who was eyeing the interaction.  Jack, Quinn, Trevor, Cole, and Dylan all had stopped what they were talking about in favor of watching the interaction between you two.  Eventhough they were not all related, they felt like proud older brothers seeing Luke be so considerate and affectionate in front of them.  Of couse they’re all going to tease him relentlessly later about this, but they were gentlemen in regards to respecting the timing and the moment.
“Just lay down and close your eyes. We’ll be on shore soon.”  You snuggled deeper into Luke’s neck keeping your eyes closed and focused on his soft skin, his natural scent, and the way his warm body curled around yours. He even tugged on your legs to pull you fully into his lap as his large frame wrapped around your body fully encasing you in his warmth and comfort. 
Nothing better than enjoying the summer with those you love.
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summary: While Price's injury is healing nicely, you're growing needier by the minute. But you're not the only one. With the doctors order in mind, you and Price attempts to stave your hunger by having you cockwarm him in his office.
pairing: cpt. John Price x reader (sunshine universe)
tags/tw: afab!reader, depiction of canon related injury, NSFW, mdni 18+ please and thank you, cockwarming, p in v, teasing, masturbation (f), unprotected sex, creampie, implied age-gap
a/n: Well, that little valentines blurb really helped to get the writing going🫡
Sunshine universe MASTERLIST & John Price MASTERLIST
Christmas passed just as slowly and cosy as you'd predicted, perhaps with one slight change of plans.
You'd returned home the night you'd dropped John from the hospital and helped him settle in somewhat. Despite debating whether to stay the night, your soldier urged you to head home to rest properly after spending so much time away.
You understood he tired of your company. In fact, he had a point, seeing how you wouldn't sleep soundly with him, constantly worrying if you would disturb his sleep by sharing a bed. And you needed a fresh set of clothes anyway. But you also noticed that being hurt took a toll on John. He'd accepted that you would be there to help him, but something told you he needed time to brood over the fact he was on med-leave for the upcoming months.
Once you returned to the flat you'd left in a hurry almost two days ago, you wandered aimlessly, trying to finish setting up your Christmas lights. However, whatever adrenaline the past 48 hours provided finally seemed to ebb, and you crashed on your couch shortly after finishing your task. 
By the time you woke up again, it had been dark outside. Dinner that night hadn't been glamorous, partly because you didn't have any finished food in your fridge and partly because you were yet to be hungry from the late lunch you shared with John before leaving his place. Still, the bowl of instant ramen warmed the cold feeling settling in your body from merely looking outside your window and down at the snowy streets.
You slept in the next day, waking up with a warm body and nose slightly chilled from the cool temperature in your room. The rest of the day was slow. You checked in on John with a message around noon, accustomed to reaching out to anyone in your closest circle around that time, seeing how no one usually was up earlier on the weekend, even if John definitely didn't categorise as one of those. He'd given you the awaited broody reply, grumbling about a horrid night of sleep and a dull ache even after taking his prescribed meds.
You stared at his message for a minute until deciding to give him a call rather than answer it.
'Hell, love'.
'God, you really sound worse for wear', was your instinctive response as John greeted you with a rough voice.
'Cheers', he huffed in return, a groan following shortly after. At that moment, you rubbed your forehead, an ache settling in your heart at not being there with him.
'How about I come over today already? Christmas is approaching, and we already said we would celebrate together. Wouldn't hurt if I stayed with you in the upcoming days with your shoulder and all...', you trailed off at the end.
'Know you have no problem with it, but I don't want to take up all your time if you have other things planned', he responded tentatively. 'I've managed worse on my own'.
'Don't have to do it alone anymore'. You reminded him, and with that, he didn't argue.
'Pack your bags, then'.
And you'd packed your bags for a week. Although, by now, you'd stayed two, with the occasional trip back to your flat to swap out some clothes.
John's shoulder healed nicely, even if the process was arduously slow, but at least it meant his injury wasn't inflamed. God forbid you would've seen it like that. While you never counted yourself as squeamish, the first time you'd helped John rid himself of the bandages and the surgical tape that, for a seeable future, needed to be changing once a week, you also remembered that neither had you ever seen a freshly sewn-together wound.
His skin was a deep pink, and the sewn-together parts puckered and elevated from the surrounding areas. You almost shied from pulling the surgical tape the rest of the way when first laying eyes on the injury. Upon seeing the scrunch of your nose and worried glance up his face, John made you step back and do the rest, reassuring you it didn't hurt, just strained unpleasantly if he moved wrong.
While it may not have hurt while gently cleaning the wound the first time and that John now could go without the sling, it didn't mean you didn't notice the pull in his features when he did make a too-fast movement or a shift that pulled at the stitches and deeper-torn tissue. He's still instructed not to carry anything heavy, making you catch a grumble of 'a goddamn month more' as you passed by right before your name was called numerous times. 
You didn't chide him from initially thinking he would manage on his own, but you both knew what the look you sent him implied and that his thank-you kiss was a silent acknowledgement that you'd been right. It would've been anything but enjoyable for him if you hadn't spent the past two weeks with him.
Even though only two weeks had passed, you quickly noticed John wasn't a man who could go long periods without doing anything. That didn't mean he couldn't take it easy. As he said himself, he'd learned that skill. But, reading so many books while having x amounts of scotches was only as enjoyable and appropriate as it could be to not count as light alcoholism. John was itching to do something more than sit idly around or keep you company during whatever you did.
So, it wasn't a surprise the first time you found him in his study a few days ago. He'd looked up from the papers with a caught-in-the-act look when you knocked on his study's door, the excuse of work piling up that he needed to look over leaving his lips instantly. You'd never been the one so strict about working when home; your free-lancing job was practically based upon it. Therefore, you'd waved his excuse away, padding into the office you'd barely set foot inside despite the many times you'd visited him. 
You'd leant against the side of his desk, not more than casting a quick side-eyed glance on his computer to show you noted its presence but not the contents on the screen before your gaze sought his. Upon your curiosity of what it was, John indulged you in what he occupied himself with.
And just like that, John, who usually was so strict about not working when spending time with you, grew lenient on that rule of thumb, restlessness gnawing at his bones enough to slip away an hour or two each day to occupy his mind. But, you always saw him at the same times during the day, joining you on the couch in his living room or in his bedroom, hijacking the TV remote to follow the post-Christmas football matches.
You jokingly poked his side each time he did, commenting on how there were two TVs in his house if he'd forgotten. But you only got a quirk in his lip and wink in return as he proclaimed he needed to convert you into a fan, teasingly anchoring you to his side with a heavy arm if you threatened to escape. 
But you both knew you didn't mind cuddling into his side with your head on his chest, following the matches of the day, only if he started getting too worked up when his team played and jostling your head around too much.
And that settled you into a new routine. While you busied yourself around the house, occasionally working a few days here and there, John watched football and occasionally retreated to his study. Although you left him to his work, he always left his door open, showing you it was free to enter if you desired.
Today was one of those days you did your separate things, not having seen each other much since the breakfast you shared, after which John left you with a kiss and 'know where to find me'. 
It had been fine. It is fine. You'd gotten ahead of work for the new year, and John eased his workload gradually. And yet, glancing at your phone screen, you note lunch is overdue. 
Sure, today had been slow. You and John had laid in bed for a while, basking in the last of the Christmas spirit the days between Christmas Day and New Year's Eve carried. And so, breakfast had been eaten later than usual, meaning lunch was also to be pushed forward. However, at half past one, John should've emerged from his office for a well-deserved break and shared the task of cooking something.
Putting aside your book, you move from the couch and wander outside the range of the fireplace's warmth. Its fire had long since burned out, and now the only parts glowing were the embering coals. 
Your fuzzy socks act as a barrier between your feet and the cold wood beneath as you wander up the stairs. Despite the constant blast of radiators and the fireplace harbouring a non-stop fire, the floor always remains chilly when the temperature drops outside.
Much like the past days, the door to John's study stood ajar. But, compared to earlier, when you'd retrieved something from the bedroom, you didn't only pass it with a glance inside, finding John staring down at his computer with his injured arm resting in his lap as his other scrolled whatever he was going through. Now, you pushed the door open, locating him not behind his desk but seated in one of the two Chesterfield armchairs.
The edge of your mouth quirks upwards as you observe his upper body bent backwards over the low backrest, laptop resting in his lap, kept only from slipping by his hand. As you enter his peripheral vision, he glances in your direction. You offer him a warm smile as you close the distance, moving to stand behind the chair.
"How's it going?" You look down at the head tilted far enough backwards that John can watch you, albeit upside down, from where he sits. He grunts in response, eyebrows raising swiftly as he straightens. 
You chuckle, hands that previously rested on the leather sliding to rest on John's shoulders, where you immediately dig your fingers into his muscles. He groans again, but this time, his head dips forward as you follow the tight tendons near his neck.
"That much to do?" You hum as you let up on the pressure, concentrating more on his uninjured side, following the muscles out to his shoulder, only to return and follow his spine to the back of his head. 
"Not really". A harsh breath follows John's sentence when you find a knot along his neck and concentrate on easing it with your thumb. "The boys can manage, Laswell too, but whatever's possible to be pushed forward, they leave to me, meanin' things that need readin' through and cleared for the go-ahead".
"Imagine it ain't like that book I gave you", you muse, John only scoffing in return. 
"Nothin' like it", he almost grumbles. "Would much rather cosy up with you and read that than this". He flicked the screen with his finger, a semi-metallic, semi-glass tick ringing from his action.
"You know very well you can drop work and cosy up with me and that book anytime you want. You're on leave". You remind him with a small smile, knowing he isn't really complaining.
With this being your first Christmas, you'd agreed to not spend too much on presents, even if you both had bought each other spontaneous gifts before, John being the culprit for spoiling you with expensive things much more often. While he'd gifted you a necklace he'd caught you looking at, you'd gotten him a book he mentioned wanting to read and a cigar to add to his collection. One, that at the moment, remained pretty stagnant as John refrained from having a smoke the first weeks of recovery. But you knew he itched for one, catching him eyeing the container he kept them in more than once.
"Hm, 'bout that", John's head lolled backwards, his gaze locking with yours. "Come here", he cocked his head, motioning for you to move around the chair. You did as he wished while he lodged his feet beneath the furniture's edge, moving the heavy armchair slightly backwards to allow you to stand between him and the low table. 
With you now in front of him, John placed his laptop on the wide armrest, leaning forward shortly after. Concerning it being the closest, the hand of his injured arm slipped around your naked lower thigh when he sat forward, your oversized sweater ending just above his hand.  
"Said here", John nods to his lap, pressing gently at the back of your leg.
"Your shoulder, John", you lightly scold his insistence, knowing where things would go if you ended up straddling him.
"It's fine". He insisted, tugging at your leg again. This time, you relented somewhat, stepping between his spread legs, the armchair's brown leather cool against your shins.
"The doctor told you to take it easy, let it heal." You reminded him of the instructions he'd received, but now, he scoffed at them.
With his head tilted to the side and displeased crease between his brows, his hand slipped down just an inch. The sudden tug as his fingers dug into the back of your knee took you off guard. It made your leg bend, and to not fall forward, your leg caught the excess seat beside his thigh as you caught yourself on the armrest to keep yourself steady.
You send John a look, as his stunt could've easily made you brace against his shoulder rather than the furniture. But he only cranes his head slightly as you hover over his self-satisfied self, a quirk bowing his lips.
"Takin' it incredibly easy, just you who's makin' me work hard for it". There's a glint in his eyes as his hands slide upwards, massaging the back of your upper thigh from how your dress-like sweater has ridden up somewhat, sneakily trying to urge you to settle entirely on top of him. Even so, you remain hovering. 
"Missed you, love". You narrow your eyes at the change in his approach.
"Missed me or something else?"
"Both." John's answer is almost boyish in how a half grin stretches his lips and the cock of his head. You roll your eyes but can't withstand his request any longer, the butterflies in your chest never truly escaping when close to the man.
Climbing into the seat with as much grace as possible, you're mindful of his shoulder, bracing against the opposite side on the backrest to ensure you don't accidentally grip it for support. But the armchair is wide enough for your legs to comfortably slot on either side of his hips, and your hands slide to rest on his abdomen instead.
Now planted in his lap and more accessible to avoid straining his shoulder to reach for you, both of John's hands find purchase on your waist.
"That wasn't too hard, now was it?" He humours you with an arched brow as you shuffle in his lap to make yourself comfortable, only to feel something beneath you. 
"No, but something seems to be". You tilt your head, alluding to the semi you slowly felt more prominently in his sweats.
"Haven't felt my girl in nearly a month. Can you blame me?" You shake your head with a huff through your nose, gaze cast down until it returns to his.
"Thought you were confident you wouldn't cave first". 
"Never said that", John hums as he curves his back to make himself more comfortable in the armchair, making you settle more firmly over his crotch. "Although I remember you sayin' you could go the longest without a proper fuck". He dares you to deny it with a cock of his brows.
You roll your eyes but don't technically argue against him. "With how you are speaking, I could think you're growing desperate".
He clicks his tongue. "Can't guilt trip me for missin' your warm cunt".
"Jesus, John", you flush under his heavy gaze and crude words, enough for you to look to the side. 
Fingers knock beneath your chin, quickly redirecting your attention back to him. Greeting you is a pair of blue eyes twinkling in intrigue. "So what you say, wanna keep me warm while I work?"
You eye him sceptically. John had figured you liked cockwarming him, the fact nothing hard to figure when you always pulled out the process of him slipping out of you as you caught your breaths in the aftermatch of whatever session had your body trembling and his clutching yours to anchor himself. But those times often happened after, not before. 
"We're not fucking", you point at him.
"Keep still, and we won't". He chuckles at your muttered 'insufferable' as you rise to your knees.
John helps you as much as he can, stabilising you with his un-injured arm as you tug down the waistband of his sweatpants, fingers digging into the fabric of his underwear, feeling the hotness of his still not-fully erect member. He sighs as you pump his cock to bring him to full erection before pulling his length out, rubbing the tip against the fabric covering your cunt. 
A warmth, a need, you hadn't felt in the past weeks blooms in your lower stomach. 
Since his injury, you and John hadn't had sex. It might only be a few weeks, but having a mostly bare-chested, burly man like him walk around the house nearly every day because it was too tricky putting on a shirt did things to you, things which you repressed in favour of not pushing anything onto John that would strain his injury. Doctors orders.
But as you pushed your underwear to the side, how easily worked up you got whispers of a repressed desire, your slit wet without any proper foreplay, not more than the mere thought of finally feeling him inside you. Even so, you softly whine as you sink down onto him, the stretch as he entered not unfamiliar in comparison to unused to. 
A drawn-out exhale escapes John as your tightness slowly swallows him, his hands falling to lift your shirt and simultaneously massage your hips.
"Just like that, love", his words are drawled as blue eyes follow how you inch your way down, having to work up and done with rolls of your hips take him after this long. "Just relax. You always take it so well". His praise makes you flutter around him, making your and John's breaths catch.
With a last shift, your thighs finally touch his, his cock buried to the hilt.
"Fuckin' hell so warm". You glance up at John, having his head notched backwards, lips slightly parted. Calloused hands slide up the smooth skin of your sides, outlining the curve of your hip, making your shirt ride up enough to show your stomach before it slides down again as his hands smoothened down your body again.
"Didn't you say you would work? Hard to do that while coping a feel". Your breathy comment brings John's head forward again, his eyes partly lidded.
"Only need one arm for that". There's a gentle tug in the corner of his mouth as he angles his laptop towards him on the armrest.
While propping his uninjured arm along the armrest, scrolling on the mousepad as he returned to the reading you previously interrupted, John's unoccupied hand gripped your hip as he brought you closer. The slight shift makes him move inside you, and your eyes flutter shut. Shit, this would be much harder than you'd anticipated.
In hopes it would distract you, you lean forward, nose knocking against the column of his throat. You inhale his scent, concentrating on how the typical aroma of rich cigar smoke is vacant from his skin with the lack of smoking.
John's unoccupied hand travels to the small of your back, fingers alternating between massaging your muscles and tracing light patterns against your skin. 
Shivers run up and down every part of your body, unconsciously making you shimmy as the shudders reach your shoulders. Your shifting jostles him inside you, causing you to clench reactionary. John's chest heaves, indicating he definitely felt how you squeezed around him.
But he didn't say anything, not verbally, at least. He simply grabs a fistful of your asscheek until flesh spilt between his fingers. The silent scold forces you to resist rocking in his lap, only releasing a quiet whimper, burying your face deeper into the curve of his neck and shoulder.
You inhale to steady your breath. 
The shower John took in the morning made his body wash more prominent. But he still smells of a certain alluring warmth, a musk simply describable as him, the one making you nuzzle against his bare upper body. You don't know whether to curse or hail him for not wearing a shirt nowadays, his nude chest distracting you somewhat from the delicious stretch and fullness of finally having him inside you. Until you knew it definitely did not help you.
As the hair dusted over his pectorals tickled against your lower chin and his beard against the upper part of your forehead, you ran your hands up and down his abdomen and chest. 
Feeling the thick cords of muscle beneath a layer of fat that made him so deliciously big and broad clench beneath your fingers acts like a lighter to gasoline. Mental images of seeing those muscles work as he pumps himself into you fill your head.
You don't even notice how your hips begin to roll until a heavy hand clutches your side, swiftly preventing the motion.
"Be a good girl, hm?" You glance up at John, but he hasn't even angled his head to face you. His blue eyes simply remain fixed on the computer screen. Even so, you feel how the muscles in his neck flex, and a soundless chuckle shakes his chest. 
You squeeze your eyes shut, face falling to hide against his neck again, but your attempt to remain calm has already failed as your mind supplies nothing but the filthiest scenes behind your eyelids. Grunting. Pistoning hips. Flesh grasped tightly.
You force an exhale, refraining from moving with any and all willpower in your fibres as you feel his girth throb inside you. You need a distraction. You need to distract yourself from thinking about how his cock fills you so well.
You start to mouth at his skin, light presses of your lips along his collarbone, trailing only far enough to his shoulder that you didn't aggravate his injury. When you once again reach where his clavicle met his sternum, you begin trailing kisses up his neck. You hum in delight, nuzzling against John's jawline, his beard tickling the tip of your nose. You felt him sigh, his chest pressing against yours before he exhaled through his nose.
God, you pliantly move with him as he shifts in his seat, attempting to find a more comfortable position by sliding down somewhat. But you can't help but momentarily dig your fingers into his abdomen as the slight stir pushes his hips against yours, forcing him deeper inside you. The sting of your nails makes his hips jump more erratically than when he'd shuffled just seconds earlier, and you can't stop a moan as you press yourself down into his lap. The only thought left in your mind is that you desperately need to move. Now.
Rocking your hips, you gave a quivering sigh, eyes fluttering at the feeling of his blunt tip hitting something so sensitive. 
"Love", John's voice is even, hinting at nothing more than attempting to earn your attention. However, how his hand travelled from around your waist to your ass, angling your hips roughly in an arch so you were pressed, forced stationary, against his chest, spoke of something else.
When you emerge from his neck, with hands planted on his chest, his blue eyes lock with yours, and how he tilts his head causes a shiver to run down your spine.
"Said to sit still, didn't I?" A soft whine leaves your mouth, lower lip jutting out. "Only going to keep me warm, eh?" He tuts amusingly.
You huff as you catch the amusement in his voice. "You seem to like it".
"Not 'bout likin' it love, but seein' how strong that resolve of yours is", he hums, taunting words brushing over your lips
You could bare your teeth at that response, like a cat hissing at someone, even if they were petting them because they came close. John's cock was literally throbbing inside you, his hips shifting to get more comfortable, only to rock himself deeper into you, demanding, mocking you to do something about your predicament.
As if feeling your body tense, your frustration growing, the menace of a man you're perched upon decides to stoke the fire by giving you a small kiss on your lips.
"Not fair", you hiss against John. This time, his chuckle is audible.
"No one said anything about fair". You send him a deadpan look, but he only chuckles deeply again. "Now relax again, love". His hand pushes against the back of your head, bringing you to rest it against him. You don't fight him, hooking your chin near the juncture of his neck, staring at the bookshelf opposite you.
You knew you'd given a false promise when you said this wouldn't lead to anything. Called your own lie and his with your initial scepticism. But now you're too far gone, too horny after nearly a month of not properly feeling him; you let out a shuddering, displeased moan as you purposefully squirm.
Your constant shifts were too small to bring any real pleasure, erratic enough they would be written off as shifts to get comfortable if it wasn't for how you and John knew it definitely wasn't. 
You could already feel your juices dripping, coating your inner thighs and his crotch, probably soaking his trousers. The lewd picture makes your pussy throb around his length again, and you quietly mewl, brows furrowing in frustration as you glare straight forward.
As if to make matters worse, your clit caught perfectly on the rolled-together line of your underwear that pressed into you at the angle John kept you from sinking deeper onto him. The realisation is like a doomsday announcement, as now it's impossible not to notice how your bundle of nerves is throbbing. 
The ache is unbearable, especially as pleasure is within sight, the planes of John's lower stomach pressed right against your mound. With such temptation just a breath away, you wriggle your hips, stuttering a breath when pleasure rushes through your abdomen. 
You start with small movements, yet more calculated than before. But soon, your squirming evolves into grinds that never fully make you sit back on John's lap. 
You reckon that's why he doesn't stop your movements. But what catches you, pleasantly, off-guard is when you feel a slight push of his hand against your backside.
John lazily guides your hips a few times but stops suddenly as if catching himself of what he's doing when his concentration slips from his reading. 
He chastises you with a soft pinch to the skin of your hips, and you know what's coming when he grabs the nape of your neck.
"Thought you said no fuckin'?". He directs your head in front of his. John's eyes have darkened, the good kind, his chest heaving more with each breath.
"I'm a big fat liar. That's what you want to hear?" You're quick to reply, the amusement rising in his blue eyes evident as he rolls his lips between his teeth with a content quirk in their corners before he answers.
"Always a delight when you admit you're wrong".
"Yeah, yeah", you roll your eyes, heat licking up your limbs and spine until pooling in the pit of your stomach. You attempt to quell it by mimicking the same move you'd previously done, but don't get far before John's strong hand anchors you squarely in his lap. The sweet pleasure of him filling you to the brim is momentary as the action keeps you there, fixed.
"Never said I would fuck you. I'm quite satisfied with this arrangement". John Price may be a humble man, but sometimes his cockiness soared when having you at his mercy.
"Piss off".
"Goin' to remain right here", he flashed you a devilish smile before returning to work. 
His blatant disregard makes your mouth fall open as you stare at him. 
You know John saw your reaction from the corner of his eyes, but he was adamant about not acknowledging you. You clench your jaw, sending him a nasty look. 
If that's how he wants to play.
With the single coherent thought that you would get your release, no longer desiring to play into the torture John was putting you through, you decide to make him cave right along with you.
With one hand stabilising yourself on his chest, your other hand slide down beneath your sweater. Your mouth falls open when your fingers brush your clit, faintly feeling how he stretches you open, unabashed moan clawing up your throat and out of your mouth. 
Oh, you saw the twitch of his head and felt his fingers dig into your waist. You knew how much he desired to look at you but remained stubborn enough not to indulge himself.
What must be a delirious-looking smile spread on your face as your mouth remains open, releasing all the soft breaths and whiney moans you'd muffled earlier. He's still keeping a steely grip on your lower half, keeping you from rocking your hips, but you make do with what he can't control. 
You bend forward at the waist, head falling alongside his until you face his throat.
Whereas your previous kisses had been light, worshipping, now they were shy of foul. You don't leave more than a few open-mouthed kisses along his neck as a heads-up before you trace your tongue over the same spots you journey.
You never stop the slow circles over your clit, your heavy breaths fanning over the wet trail you paint against his skin. And with your pleasured sounds so close to his ear, your lips marking him up without abandon as no one but you will be able to see the light marks, a deep groan fills the air.
Silencing your satisfaction that you're slowly tearing his resolve, you release a low whine straight into his ear instead. "John-". 
His facade cracks again, head tilting backwards, and you know he's fighting demons to not give in to your pleasure. But you show him no remorse, chuckling breathlessly over the shell of his ear before nipping his earlobe. 
Laving over the sweet little spot on his neck, right at the angle where his beard fades and beneath his ear, another grunt fills the air as his other hand abandons the computer and shifts to grab you.
With both of his hands now on your hips, you take your unoccupied hand and drag it down his chest, the wiry hair tickling you as your nails catch his nipple. You paw at his chest as you push your mouth into the shell of his ear, shakily uttering, "Going fill me up, John?"
"Jesus-". His gravelly voice, how he gropes and grabs at your soft love handles, hints at the restrained pleasure leaking through the cracks you're creating. It eggs you on, quickening the fingers rubbing your clit as you try to see if he'll let you rock your hips.
Although he clutches your flesh when you start to roll your hips over his thick cock, he doesn't stop you, hands remaining dormant on your ass. And, since you don't get any resistance from John this time, you don't stop.
You flutter around him, your peak moving a lot closer when you sit straight, looking down at the man who showers you with his attention as you rise on your knees in tandem with the rocking of your hips. And that seems to break the last straw of his willpower. 
You thank the heavens when he hastily moves to close his laptop and slides it a bit too aimlessly into the armchair beside the one you're occupying. The amusement in his eyes quickly faded to offer more place for surging arousal.
His uninjured arm rises to settle his hand at the back of your head, tugging you into a kiss as his other hand paces itself as he lowers it, swatting away your hand to overtake the onslaught on your bundle of nerves. As his thumbs find and rub firm circles onto your clit, you moan into his mouth.
John leans away to look at you, watching your features contort in pleasure as your cunt throbs around him. A lazy smirk on his face tells you he has no desire to drag out your or his pleasure any longer. 
He starts moving his hips, meeting each of your falls into his lap, pressing him deeper into you than what you'd managed on your own. John sounded fucking heavenly as a fucked up into you, groans and grunts slipping past his teeth, even if he let you do most of the work, taking it easy with his shoulder. 
"Fuckin' hell, that's my girl". He jerks inside you upon picking up the wet sounds squelching each time the back of your thighs meet his. "Takin' my cock so well after all this time, s'good for me, fuck- missed you havin' you around me". John's head drops backwards just as his hand falls to give your hips a firm squeeze, helping you guide your hips. You whine, clenching around him, slumping against him even if your hands get trapped between your chests.
He feels so good inside you, girthy length stretching you so deliciously, every ridge and vein rubbing against your walls. You pant against his skin, teeth closing on the tendons in his neck, not biting, but the pleasure just feels so good that you barely know what to do with yourself.
"Feisty today, eh?" John's jab is breathless, rasped from the back of his throat. "Hm, get so needy when you don't get my cock".
"John- fuck", your eyes squeeze tightly shut as your sensitivity is upped, orgasm nearing, the digit playing with your clit making you keen. "Feels so good, you feel so good... shit, missed this", you blabber. He groans at your admission, planting his heels more firmly to get more power behind his thrusts.
An involuntary squeak leaves you as the added force makes you slide forward a bit, your arm swinging around his neck on his uninjured side. It's nowhere near as fierce as John otherwise can shove himself deep inside of you, but after this long, he doesn't need to.
One final thrust sends you over the edge, body quivering, thighs squeezing his waist. Your moan breaks into heaving breaths, hips stilling in their up-and-down movement. John's not far behind, manually grinding your hips back and forth before he rolls his hips upwards, praises falling in groans from his lips as he spills inside you.
"Best believe you're not going back to working after this", you sigh into John's neck, having caught your breath just as he slackens beneath you.
He gives you a shakey laugh yet to level his own breathing. "No thought 'bout it", his voice is throaty as his arms curl around your waist.
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norrisleclercf1 · 1 year
Text
Whip ‘Em Out
Pairing: Charles x Reader
Rating: M
Warnings: Smut, flashing, slight hand collar, Dom!Charles to Soft!Dom Charles, p in v, oral (male receiving), soft sex, slight fighting in the beginning
Requested: Yes/No
Request: Could you maybe write a blurb for Charles . Just like the trend on tiktok, that you are having a argument with your boyfriend and during the argument you are flashing him with your tits?
A/N: Alright this was going to go completely different and I got really carried away with this request. It was going to be a quick and funny little thing but yeahhhhh. Anyways it wasn’t originally going to be soft sex but I’m in my feels today. So enjoy ☺️
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It's a stupid argument. That's the only reason you thought about doing it. I mean, seriously, Charles was tired and had a little jet lag, and yes, he did ask to pick up his dry cleaning, but he was blowing it up.
"I asked one thing, baby, please pick up my dry cleaning instead. You didn't. Now I have nothing to wear to this damn gala event." Charles groans, storming down the hall to his closest.
You roll your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend as you watch the TikTok of the girl flashing her boyfriend mid-argument. You smirk, knowing damn well this would drive him crazy, but you just had to pick the perfect moment to do it.
His feet echo down the hall as he storms back to you. "I mean, what the hell am I supposed to wear, hm? Couldn't you have just done this one thing, love?" He asks, rubbing the exhausted look off his face, and later you might feel bad, but right now, you just wanted your boyfriend.
"Charles." You say his name making him look up and freeze as you lift up your shirt, well his shirt, and flash him.
You giggle, pull your shirt down, and walk over, pecking his lips that formed a perfect O. "Sorry, I hope that makes up for it." You whisper and head down to your shared bedroom to pick out his outfit for the night so he can leave on time.
Charles stands in the living room before chuckling and slowly walks to the bedroom. Your back is to him as he contemplates exactly what to do with you, especially after that little stunt you just pulled.
Slowly he moves and wraps his hand around your throat, careful not to hurt you. You gasp and pull away from him, but Charles pulls you right back into his chest, and you groan, feeling the stunt's effect on him.
"Char." You moan slightly, mind becoming fuzzy from his body against yours and how his hand is possessively wrapped around your throat.
"You think you can show me your gorgeous tits and then walk away without consequences?" Charles whispers, his grip tightening slightly in your ear, just enough to give you pleasure but not cause harm.
"Just didn't want to keep fighting Char. I'm sorry." You whine, giving your best puppy dog eyes, making Charles almost cave.
"Nah, uh." He grumbles and moves you to the bed, laying you down, making you giggle as Charles stares at you.
He always stares at you before he fucked you senseless. It was a moment that reminded you how much Charles really loved you and how sweet he could be before making you unable to move for the rest of the day.
Charles leans down before lifting your shirt and pulling it over your head, your view gets blocked, but you flinch, feeling warm, feather-like kisses on your collarbone. You shiver when his groan hits your skin as he locks eyes with your chest admiring it.
Charles is a tits man, and fuck did he love yours.
Your spine dances when his rough, calloused hand grabs a handful and tugs gently. His fingers twisted your nipple slightly before sucking it into his mouth. He loved how it felt against his tongue, how your chest heaved, and whimpers fell from your mouth when he sucked you.
"Char." You whine, lifting your hips to feel pressure to dull the ache between them.
He licks your nipple as he lets go of it, his other hand pulling and teasing the other. "Patience." He whispers as he pulls you into him.
A soft moan passes your lips, feeling how much Charles wants you between your legs. You never knew why, but leading up to sex with him always got you closer to your orgasm than anything. He used everything about your body against you, turning you into a pathetic whimpering mess
"Stop, or I won't make it much longer." Charles groans in your chest, and that's when you realize you've been practically humping him.
You know your hips, but whine feeling him twitch. It was becoming painful now, wanting nothing more than to have him in you; Charles was determined to make you drunk on him. Even if that meant Turing your chest into a gallery of his teeth and tongue.
Charles moves so you sit on top of him even though he is sitting up. Your chest was at eye level with his face; he loved you in this position. Nothing got him to come faster than watching you bounce and whine on him, your face filled with ecstasy.
"Please, Charles, please wanna feel you." You whisper as your boyfriend's hands slide down your waist and legs, pulling your shorts and underwear off in one failed swoop.
"I will, angel, but take it slow, okay?" He leans up, kissing your lips as you try to grind on him, but his hands are firm on your hips, stopping that from happening.
Huffing with impatience, you unbuckle his pants. You didn't care he wasn't fully addressed. Honestly, no, with was hotter than riding him like this, it was a weird thing to love, but you did. Charles lets out that giggle of his watching you with love and lust in his eyes. He enjoyed moments like these. Yes, he was still mad about his dry cleaning, and I don't think he didn't know about the new TikTok trend of flashing your boyfriend during an argument, but he loved learning you both craved each other more than air and still had these moments.
His thoughts are interrupted when he feels your hands on him as he groans, eyes fluttering close as he soaks up the feeling of your hand. Charles jumps slightly when you move your hand up and down, almost teasingly as, licking your lips, you look up at him, both of you freezing.
"I love you." He whispers, making your smile show as you remove your hands, trailing them up his body and into his hair, gently tugging the strands.
"I love you too. Sorry for not picking up the dry cleaning." You mumble, making both your chest rattle from his laughter.
"Fuck the dry cleaning, angel." He whispers, kissing your lips, cheeks, and all over your face, causing it to scrunch up.
"Well, can you fuck me first?" You ask, causing a sputter of laughter from both of you.
"I'm not fucking you-." "But-" Charles shuts you up, flipping you onto your back and gently sliding into you. "I'm going to show you how much I love you." He groans, pressing his forehead against yours as soft whimpers escape your mouth.
"Charles." You whine as he slowly moves his hips out, but not enough so you can adjust to him. Charles curses himself for being weak, but nothing makes him shake more than being inside you.
He drove at dangerous speeds and through crashes, weather, and anything else; he always got shakes from being with you.
"Y/n." He groans, slowly moving his hips out before plunging back into you, moans and soft words passing between you as Charles holds you close.
"M close." You groan as Charles nods, knowing what to do as he removes his hand from your hair and down your body to your clit.
Charles learned your body inside and out and read enough to know that people needed more than simple penetration. It's why he always got you going with the teasing and touching before even being with you. Your body craved it like a fucking drug. Even now, the way you clamp down him from his thumb, simply brushing your clit, he knew how much you were tittering on edge.
"Let go for me." He whispers, his thumb giving just enough pressure and moving in a small circle before going up and down that has you moaning loudly as your body spams. Charles stills, stopping himself from his own before your body goes limp, eyes hazy from the orgasm.
"Let me help." You whisper, pulling away and hissing from the empty feeling but shaking it off as Charles moves around you, not resisting your slight push to get him in his back.
Licking his lips, Charles watches as you move between his legs, getting comfortable before licking your tongue over his cock.
"God damn." He groans, knowing he won't last long but he doesn't care.
Giggling to yourself, you waste no time taking him into your mouth, causing him to let out more curses, mixes of English, French, and Italian. His weight on your tongue makes you relax as your tongue swirls around his head, throat relaxing and taking him further. Sometimes Charles loved your sloppy fast pace or slow and teasing style, but he was enjoying how you let him enjoy it. Bobbing your head, you move your left hand and grip his thigh, letting him know you are okay and taking your right hand to slowly massage him causing him to let out whimpering groans.
You loved turning him into a mess with your mouth, but you feel him twitch and know not to drag it on as long as you tighten your throat slightly and move your tongue faster.
"Angel, fuck, I'm- I'm-" Charles doesn't finish his sentence as he comes in your mouth. You don't stop your movements, still sucking him through his high. You pull off him slowly when you feel him relax in your mouth, and you quickly swallow as he pants, trying to catch his breath.
"Damn." He groans, his hands pulling you up so you lay on top of him, not wanting you far from him. Charles would never admit it, but after sex, he just needed you next to him to make sure you were okay and to know you didn't feel conflicted emotions sometimes.
"Apology accepted." He whispers, making you laugh and kiss his nose before laying your head on his shoulder, enjoying his scent and heartbeat against your hand.
"Hey?" He asks, fingers running up and down your back.
"Yes?" You reply, your own fingers trailing over his chest and abdomen.
"Next time we argue like that, whip 'em out again." He mumbles.
Your brain stops working before you slap his chest, making you shout in surprise as you try hard not to laugh.
"Your such a boy." You shout, which Charles laughs as he grabs your hands, stopping the assault.
"Yes, but I'm yours." He says, kissing your nose.
"Yeah, you are." You smile, running your hand over his jaw as both talk and laugh, the gala event wholly forgotten.
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Note
I have a request
So Ash is alive but Fez is in jail
So like Fez and the Reader have been dating for awhile like they're high school sweethearts (even tho he's a drop out) and before he got arrested she got pregnant.
Could you write how that looks. Like phone calls, and letters, and visits, but also write when he gets out and he gets to finally see his kid
hi love! ty for requesting🩷 idk if you wanted a little blurb but you got this big ass fic lmao, sorry i got carried away! also in this custer was never killed at Fez's house so he only got charged with drug possession and given like one or two years because he's a first time offender (i think?) ik it's all over the place but i hope you like it;)
fezco x pregnant!reader
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warning: mentions of drugs/drug abuse, murder, jail, pregnancy, throwing up, giving birth, infant care, Fez's dad is mentioned once, religious imagery/mentions of praying, lots of crying.
wc: ± 4530
a/n: this is so similar to my other fez fic but also not at all lol. I tried changing it up as much as possible but there are def a lot of similarities I'm sorry. not proofread!
gif not mine, all credit to original creator.
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You and Fez met back when he was still in school, just before he had dropped out. He sat next to you in History and the two of you would only talk briefly, often just about things like what the date was or when the next period would be. He would occasionally crack a joke or make a lighthearted comment that would always catch you off guard.
He was a normally stoic and calm person; he didn't talk much and kept to himself most of the time. This made you appreciate the rare jokes and little bursts of personality even more. You quickly found yourself talking more and more with him, and he'd start greeting you when you passed each other in the hallways. You had considered him somewhat of a friend after a while. Maybe not the closest, but you valued the little time you two would spend together.
Then he started showing up to class less and less, and rumors had begun spreading around. A few weeks before he dropped out, he had asked you if he could copy your notes that he had missed while absent, and you agreed. He told you to drop them off at the convenience store his grandmother owned, because that's where he spent most of his afternoons.
You did this every time he didn't show up to class; you'd write him all the notes neatly and bring them to him at the store, and in return he'd let you take whatever you want from the shelves free of charge. You always took the same thing (a can of Sprite, a packet of Sun Chips and a pack of cherry flavored twizzlers), and after a while he had started keeping the three items at the counter, ready for you to grab when you came around. One day he asked you if you'd like to stay a while before heading home, and you spent your afternoons sitting on the roof of the convenience store eating your treats and talking about whatever came to mind.
You never asked him why he wasn't at school, or even asked yourself why you'd go through all this trouble for him. Maybe it was because you've always been way too nice for your own good, or maybe because you had a little crush on him. One day when you were on your way to give him the day's notes, he'd told you he was dropping out. When you asked why, he only replied with, "Have to take care of my grandma."
You didn't stop visiting him after he left school, and would go to the store every other afternoon, quietly doing your homework by the counter while he restocked the shelves. He never explicitly told you, but he enjoyed having you around. You never asked too many questions and you were always nice to him. He would say maybe too nice to count as just being friendly.
As time passed the two of you grew closer and closer. You had met his brother Ash and occasionally helped him with his grandmother, who you had only met briefly before she became ill, when you were making your rounds to drop of his notes.
A few months later he had asked you out, and you said yes. You haven't looked back since.
That was years ago, and this was now. Now, you were sitting on the lid of the toilet in the dead of night with a pregnancy test clasped tightly in your right hand, while the other covered your mouth in shock. The two red lines stared back at you tauntingly as you felt your head spin with anxiety.
You were pregnant. You were pregnant with Fez's baby and you had no idea how you were going to tell him. You finished up, washing your hands and face and made your way to the bedroom you and your boyfriend shared. You hid the test in the drawer you kept your underwear in and sat on the edge of the bed, waiting for your boyfriend to return home.
He arrived eventually, but you couldn't find the strength in you to tell him. You knew you had to eventually, you couldn't possibly keep this a secret for too long, but you were terrified. You had no idea what his reaction would be, and you feared the worst.
The night you finally did get the courage to tell him, was the same night he decided to almost kill Nate at a New Year's Eve Party. Your plan had been derailed once again and that night you found yourself sitting in the bathroom while you silently cleaned the cuts on his hands. You knew you couldn't tell him then, he was still on edge and filled with adrenaline from everything that had transpired. He was definitely not in the correct headspace for a revelation like that.
Everything after that night was an absolutely downward spiral.
With Faye moving in, Mouse getting killed in your house and ultimately Fez getting arrested after Custer had ratted him out, you found yourself at your wits end. He had been arrested and taken away right before your eyes, and you felt completely helpless as you watched him get dragged out of the now ruined house, with a distraught Ash clinging to you like a lifeline.
☆˚。⋆
Fez was only given three years for drug possession with the intent to sell, considering he was a first-time offender. Three years may not have been much considering it could have been a much heavier sentence, but your stomach still churned at the thought that he would be away for that long. What about Ash and Marie? What about the store?
What about the baby?
You couldn't do this. It felt like the world was suddenly dropped on your shoulders as you watched the officers drag Fez out the court, and away from you.
You shot up from the uncomfy wooden bench and made your way to the closest bathroom, where you threw up the little food you managed to keep down this morning. When you finished you flushed the toilet and made your way to the sink to clean up. As you stared at your reflection in the dirty mirror, everything struck you at once like cold water being thrown in your face.
You were going to be alone. Alone and pregnant, having to look after Ash (who God willing, they don't take away from you) and his grandmother. You hadn't even realized you were crying until your reflection became blurry and your breathing erratic.
You went back home that evening, with a dreadful feeling deep in the pit of your stomach for what the future holds.
☆˚。⋆
Fez had finally been approved for calls, and after not hearing anything from him in weeks you were ecstatic to finally hear his voice.
You had received a call from the jail where he was, following all the necessary steps and pressing all the necessary buttons before you got to talk with him. When you heard his voice say your name you had to stop yourself from breaking down right beside the telephone. It hadn't even been a month and you already missed him more than words could describe.
He said your name again in a questioning tone and you realized that you hadn't said anything in return.
"Fez?" was all you could force from wobbly lips as your grip on the phone tightened. "Yeah baby, it's me," he said quietly. "I miss you," you said trying your hardest not to sob. Gosh, you couldn't even think about asking him how he was doing, you just wanted him to know how much you needed him right now.
"I miss you too baby, so fucking much," he replied, "how are things going that side?" You inhaled sharply before answering. "I don't know," you answered truthfully, "I'm still trying to figure everything out right now. But okay I guess."
He hummed. "What about Ashtray, he around? Can I talk to him?" he asked. "Of course," you said before calling out to Ash, who was over the moon when he finally got to speak to his brother after so long. You saw him smile for the first time in months, and you were overjoyed at the sight.
When they were finished catching up he handed you the phone. "You still there?" you asked. "Yeah baby, but I only got like a minute left. Listen I'll call you back as soon as I can again okay?" he said. "Okay, goodnight. I love you so muh, Fez," you rushed out. "I love you too baby, so mu—"
He was cut off by the ending call and you placed the receiver of the telephone back on the wall.
☆˚。⋆
You didn't know how to tell Fez you were pregnant over the phone, so you settled with writing him a letter. You told him how you were pregnant, and that you were planning on keeping the baby. A part of you already knew you were keeping the baby the moment you stared at the test in your hand. The thought of being pregnant now absolutely terrified you, but recently you had found yourself fantasizing about what the little one would look like.
Would it be a little girl or a boy? Would she have your nose, or your eyes? What would her soft hair feel like under your fingertips? What would her first word be?
You hadn't even realized you were already referring to the baby as "she". That was what made you realize you were already deadset on keeping the baby, whether Fez wanted to be apart of that or not, even though it pained you to think that way.
You nervously sealed the letter and sent it off, hoping for the best. Fez had called you the same day he received the letter.
"Hi Fez," you answered nervously.
"You bein' serious Y/N?" You knew exactly what he was referring to, so you took a deep breath before answering him. "Yes, I'm being serious," you said quietly. You could hear him sigh and curse under his breath before he spoke up louder. "How long you known?"
"From before the raid. But, before you say anything, I did want to tell you on New Years, but that shit with Nate happened and everything after that was a total shitshow," you breathed, "I'm sorry for not telling you earlier."
"Shit, it's alright ma I ain't mad, jus' a bit shocked," was all he said. There was a short silence between the two of you before he spoke up again. "I'm gonna be a dad?" he asked softly. "Yeah..." you said, waiting for anything to indicate how he felt about this. "I'm so sorry I can't be there wit' you for this," he said. That broke your heart. He wanted to there, wanted to be a father and the thought made your heart fill with joy.
"It's okay, we can't help the circumstances," you said. "Listen, I promise you imma be here wit you every step of the way, okay? Maybe not physically, but I want you to keep me updated on everthing alright?" he said. "Okay, I promise I will," you breathed, a smile stretching across your face. "Imma do right by you, baby, I promise. You ain't doin' this on your own."
You were sure your heart was going to explode. You were going to have a baby with Fez. The circumstances were the farthest from ideal, but you were hopeful that you were going to be able to do this. You were going to do this. For yourself, for Fez and Ash and for your baby.
☆˚。⋆
The pregnancy was anything but easy, and it was even harder without Fez by your side. It helped that he showed his support in any way he could, like always calling and sending letters, checking up on you to stay updated with the condition of your baby. You were roughly at 3 or 4 months and by now the little bump was already visible.
Telling Ash was one of the things you were the most nervous about. You didn't know how he'd feel about a baby being bought into your living situation. You had sat him down and got straight to the point. When the words first left your mouth, his face twisted into an unreadable expression. He seemed to be mulling it over silently, before a small smile stretched across your face and he replied shyly with, "So I'm gonna like, be an uncle?"
☆˚。⋆
The letters you frequently wrote Fez were on of the only things he looked forward to. He loved reading them, reading about how you were doing and everything that was happening with your body and with the baby growing inside you. It sometimes fet like he got to experience the pregnancy right there beside you, with the way he could clearly indicate your mood swings even in your writing.
The letter would quickly go from I saw an old couple sitting by the old park benches today and I broke down in tears to The guy at the drive-thru told me I couldn't order 'just pickels'. Imagine saying no to a starving pregnant lady!
When he received the letter with a small black and white attached to it, he nearly cried. The little ultrasound picture didn't look like much, you could barely make out the big white blob in the middle as a baby, an actual human being. He turned the picture around and saw that you had written our baby! in your messy handwriting, with a little heart at the end. That was all he needed to actually start crying.
That night he couldn't fall asleep at all. His mind was filled with a million thoughts that were consuming him. What if something happens to her or the baby while I'm in here? Will she be able to cope on her own? What's she gonna do once the baby is born?
What if I'm not a good father?
That's what was eating at him more than anything else. He didn't want to be like his own father, and his worst fear was eventually ending up like him, no matter how hard he tried not to. He didn't want his kid to hate him, he wanted to be the best dad he could be, because he already knew that you were going to be the absolutely best mother any child could ask for. He knew because he saw the way you cared for Ash, like he was your own little brother. He also knew that you had a big heart. When you loved, you loved with everything in you, so he didn't have an inkling of doubt about you being a good mother.
That was the night he had promised himself that he would be the best father that he could be for your child and that he'd give them the love and support he never received from his dad.
☆˚。⋆
By now you had finally been approved for your first visit, and you were over the moon. The first time you visited you went alone, and when Fez saw you walking into the cold room, a slight waddle to your step and a cute little bump sticking out from your pretty pink sundress and cardigan, he swears he had fell in love with you all over again. You looked so beautiful, he thought, maybe more beautiful than you've ever been.
Maybe it was the pregnancy glow people would always refer to, or maybe it was the fact that he hadn't seen you in months, but he couldn't get the dopey smile off his face as you made your way to the table where he sat.
You were permitted to a brief embrace and kiss at the beginning and end of each visit, and when he wrapped his arms around you for the first time in months, and got to inhale the smell of your almost unfamiliar perfume, he didn't ever want to let you go ever again. His grip on you tightened a little bit and you had to will away the tears threatening to spill over your cheeks when you felt his warmth consume your body. It felt like home being back in his strong arms.
"You're gonna squish the baby," you said playfully, placing a kiss on his shirt over his heart. You honestly didn't mind at all; you'd let him hold you like this forever if you could. You eventually broke away when you saw the guard giving you a unhappy look from the corner of your eye. You sat down on the cold metal bench and he found his seat accross from you.
You so badly wanted to hold his hand while you talked to him. You wanted to sit next to him and feel the warmth of his body radiating off him and bury your face into his neck and hold onto him for dear life, but you couldn't.
"Y'know if it's a boy or a girl yet?" he asked. You absent-mindedly tapped your manicured nails against the metal table that separated you two, until the guard had given you a stern look from behind Fez, by now irritated by the repetitive sound. You retracted your hands, placing them in your lap and shaking your head. "No, I'm finding out at the next appointment," you smiled, "do you still have the photos I sent you?"
You were referring to the ultrasound photos as you had sent him in letters from all your appointments. "Of course I do," he smiled, "keep 'em in my cell, under my pillow." You smiled, looking down at your belly and softly running your hand over it.
"I think it's gonna be a girl," you said softly, as if it was some secret only the two of you had the right to know. "Nah, it's a boy," he replied and you rolled your eyes playfully, which made him laugh. "Of course you think it's a boy," you joked. He shrugged "I'm still gonna love 'em whether they a boy or a girl," he said, before adding, "but it's gonna be a boy."
You rolled your eyes at him once again, this time more dramatically, and rubbed at your belly. "I just know it's going to be a little girl," you said, and when you looked up from your belly your eyes met Fez's. They were filled with an immeasurable amount of admiration and love, and you couldn't help but shy away from the attention.
"If it's a girl, I hope she look like you."
☆˚。⋆
The last few weeks of your pregnancy you had asked your mother to stay with you until it was time to go and give birth. By now your belly was fully formed and perfectly rounded, and you were waddling around the house like a lost penguin. Everything was hurting, from your feet to your back and pregnancy brain was truly kicking your ass. As much as you loved the beauty of pregnancy, you couldn't wait to finally get this over with.
You were on the phone with Fez when you had first felt it, the liquid running down your legs followed by a slight cramp in your abdomen. At first you were scared that you had peed yourself (your bladder had been your number one enemy recently) but it didn't take long to realize what was happening.
Without even sparing Fez another word you hung up and called for your mother. This was it, you were finally going meet your baby.
Ash was shitting bricks as he paced around the house while you and your mother gathered everything to head to the hospital. Soon enough you found yourself in the hospital, with your arms leaning on the bed trying to control your breathing. The pain felt like nothing you've ever felt before, and at some point you thought you were going to pass out.
A little while later and you had started to dilate. After what felt like a lifetime of mindless pushing and incoherent shouts, the screaming of your baby girl filled your ears. You looked next to you, to your mother who was still holding onto your hand tightly while her other hand pushed the hair out of your sweaty face. You were beyond grateful to have her with you, but your heart yearned to have Fez with you for this moment. When you got to hold your baby in your arms you cried like a crazy person. She was so beautiful, and your heart was already filled with abundant love for her.
☆˚。⋆
You've had baby Eden at home for almost two weeks, when you finally got a call from Fez.
"How'd it go baby? Is she healthy? Are you okay?" he had asked as soon as he heard your voice greeting him. You pressed the phone tighter between your ear and your shoulder. "She's as healthy as can be, and she's beautiful, Fez," you said happily, as you rocked the baby in your arms to sleep. "You gonna send me a picture of her?" he asked.
"I already have a few taken, I just have to get them printed then I'll send them to you," you smiled, "she's so beautiful, Fez." You knew it was a little biased, but she truly was the most beautiful baby you'd ever seen. Her pretty long eyelashes that rested on her chubby cheeks and the pretty pink lips that would sometimes streatch into a toothless smile, or her cute button nose that would scrunch up when she yawned or sneezed. Everything about her was so absolutely perfect.
"I can't wait to see yall ma," he whispered. You could hear the slight sadness in his voice. "Me neither," you replied with a sad smile.
☆˚。⋆
He had no doubt when you told him that Eden was a beautiful baby, but when Fez got to see a picture of her for the first time, all the air was knocked out his lungs.
That was his baby. His baby girl, wrapped tightly in a fluffy pink blanket and a little cap to match. He couldn't stop looking at the picture, his thoughts going at a hundred miles per hour. Fez hadn't seen a lot of babies in his life, but he was one thousand percent certain that Eden was the most beautiful baby he'd ever layed his cynical eyes on.
He couldn't remember the last time he prayed, but that night Fez found himself closing his eyes and praying. He prayed that you and your baby were kept safe, he prayed that his baby girl would stay healthy and happy, and he prayed for the patience to diligently serve his sentence, counting down the days till he got to hold you both.
☆˚。⋆
You sat in shock as you read the contents of the letter over and over and over.
Fez was going to be released from jail earlier for good behavior. He was coming home, to you, to Ash and his friends and to his baby. He was going to meet his daughter.
Ever since giving birth you hadn't brought Eden along with you when visiting Fez. She was still very young, and you didn't want her driving the long distances back and forth. This unfortunately meant that Fez hadn't got to meet his daughter yet. That was changing soon though.
☆˚。⋆
You were pacing back and forth in the house, waiting for Fez to come knocking at your door. Today was the day Fez was coming home, back to his family, back to you.
He had to go through several release preparations, then pre-release custody and then supervision. After he complete those steps he had a full release from the BOP system, and they arranged transportation for him to come back home.
He had asked you to not tell anyone about him coming home, he didn't want people bothering him and wanted to spend his first night in just the company of the people he loved the most. You had kept to your word and not told a soul, not even Ash, who you knew would soon be jumping out of his skin when he gets to see his brother.
You had Eden in your arms, gently rocking her back and forth to soothe her. She was a little cranky because she didn't get her afternoon nap in, and when she finally dozed off, you went to go place her in the small crib next to your bed.
You shifted your weight from one foot to the other nervously, before checking that everything was good. The food was cooked, the house cleaned and the bed covered in clean sheets.
The hard knock on the door almost made you drop the pie you had taken out of the oven. It was custard pie, his favorite. You removed your oven mits and sprinted to the door.
When you opened it, there stood Fez with a small smile on his face. You immediately wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him as close to you as possible. He was here. He was back home with you finally and you got to hold him for as long as your heart desired.
By now you were sobbing into his neck, beyond relieved and happy to finally have him home. When you broke away he looked down at you, tears in his own eyes.
"Hi," he breathed. "Hi," you replied through a half sob half laugh. "You're home." "I'm home."
Ash had cried when he saw his brother standing in the living room awkwardly, and wrapped his arms around him tightly, almost as if he was scared of losing him once again. Once everyone had settled down somewhat, you decided to ask Fez the big question.
"Do you wanna see her?"
☆˚。⋆
The room was dead silent as you pushed open the door and made your way inside, Fez following soon after. You could see the anxiety written on his face, evident in the slight tremble of his hands. This was a very big deal to him. He was going to meet his daughter for the very first time.
You made your way over to the crib, standing next to it and urging him to do the same. He warily moved closer to the crib, looked over the edge and down to where the little girl layed peacefully assleep. He could see the small rise and fall of her chest as she breath rhythmically, and the way her two small fists layed clenched tightly next to her body. If he listened closely enough he could hear her breathing, and the soft cooing sounds in between.
"She's beautiful isn't she?" you asked quietly, and he only nodded, not once lifting his gaze. "Would you like to hold her?" This made him look up at you. A part of him wanted to say no. He didn't want to hold something as precious as her in his hands. Hands that have done shameful and awful things, much too tainted to handle something as fragile and irreplaceable as her.
"It's okay, Fez," you said, sensing his hesitation, before reaching into the crib to pick her up gently. When she was secured in your grasp, you turned your body to him and he hesitantly reached out to take her from you.
Once she was in his arms the small tears began to fall from his eyes. You rubbed his back comfortingly as you watched him closely.
Nothing that Fez had ever achieved in his life measured even closely to this moment. No amount of money or fortune would make him trade this. This was it. This was him, being home and being able to be with you, with his family.
His grandmother had taught him the importance of family and looking out for each other. She taught him that the family he'd have would be the people he was willing to die for, and as he stood in the quiet room, his daughter in his arms and you by his side, he knew that he had found his family.
He looked over to you, and when his eyes met yours he saw the contented look on your face, behind all the happy tears.
"She looks like you," he smiled.
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crystcrm · 1 year
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i share ur struggle.. i ACHE for gepard or welt content so hopefully i could request for something like that? im js gonna throw a bunch of ideas and you can choose whichever
relationship hcs (what he’d be like, how does he show his love etc)
sleeping together (take this whichever way you want)
cooking together in the kitchen (im a whore for this stuff idk why😭)
bedroom hcs (kinks, fav positions, literally anything i need it so bad)
KISSING IN THE SNOW W GEPARD😞
anon i hope you know this ask gave me like 5000 braincells. like suddenly i am THINKING. it's so insane how one little ask full of random blurbs gave me so much life to write even just the smallest things.
literally welt and gepard are my two faves rn, i'm fr just waiting for jing yuan to come out. jing yuan my beloved <3<3
but anyway, as for this little ask, i think we'll ease into the hsr content with some fluff ( i am all due for it anyway, i have Not been writing and i also need the fluff because my god does life hit hard ) so sit tight >:)
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love and cherishing you ♡ ;; various x gn!reader headcanons
content;- sfw , fluff , headcanons list , how some hsr boys show their love for you ♡♡ , overall just really fluffy because i need toothrotting stomach ache inducing head swirling sweet fluff sometimes... , nothing about getting together but just general hcs on what they'd be like in a relationship , reader is nooooot...? the trailblazer but could possibly be interpreted as such if you squint
characters inc:- welt yang , gepard landau ( includes post-belobog arc content, not extremely spoilery but take note that i chose after the jarillo-vi conclusion to open up more opportunities >:3 )
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together with welt yang . . .
welt has lived life longer than perhaps anyone on the express, being from another world and used to living as the first ( second generation ) herrscher of reason, a herrscher that sided with humanity. he didn't expect to get sucked into another adventure, one where he'll meet many companions, see unbelievable sights or even... fall in love.
he's an old soul, yet his heart still has a grand passion for what he does. the fire within him burns, and perhaps, you stoke the flames. a motivation unlike any other to show you the wonders of the galaxy— of every world.
his love is not the most openly shown, an old man can be embarrassed sometimes. especially in the face of his family of the astral express. his affections for you are for you two only. his touches, his words, the little things that make sparks fly are all special and meant for your ears and eyes only. be it in the privacy of his room, or late nights when everyone else is fast asleep, he'll always find a way to make his love for you known when nobody else is looking.
time together with you is always time well spent. he enjoys it perhaps just a little more than going on adventures with everyone. you could be doing anything, and he wouldn't mind simply sitting in silence together with you. it's comforting, relaxing. it's moments like these where he gets to unwind with you. it's essentially a recharge— he doesn't even have to hold you ( but if you'd like that, he'd be more than happy to ).
he used to be an artist— an animation storyboard artist. his skills on paper would definitely outmatch the rest of the crew. he already likes to have his experiences captured in little drawings in his notebook. well, you happen to be one big, long lasting experience. one that he can't wait to see what more comes while experiencing it. you swear that you can catch him gazing at you every other day, and you always see his pencil moving across the papers in his book. inside are sketches of you in all your beauty, how he adores you, even complete with little notes about the things you like.
he wishes to show you the world, all there is to be seen across the entire galaxy. he will be there, to guide you, to accompany you. it's not that he doesn't trust the rest of the crew, but really, this is the closest thing to a date you've ever gotten. taking in the sights of new worlds, creating new memories together, and maybe getting tossed in a bit of trouble along the way. sure, it may be tiring or troublesome, but he wouldn't want to face it with anyone else.
those that come across him know him as welt yang, but this is the name he has inherited. he doesn't tell it often, perhaps, but at least you know him. the real him. he's not just welt to you, but also joachim. it is something he entrusted to you, who he is, who he once was, who he shall become— everything about him.
he adores you, and all your entirety. you are like a burning star in the galaxy above, one that burns with him.
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together with gepard landau . . .
gepard, captain of the silvermane guards is a busy, busy man. between his duties as captain and his daily life, he does his best to find time for you. his lack of charm is exactly what makes him charming, some may say. he's no nonsense, stubborn, "famously uncompromising" ( as his sister claims ) with an unmatched loyalty. it sounds horrendous, but perhaps that's exactly why you love him.
you tell him he should prioritise his duty first and foremost, he is an important figure in belobog, after all. and he does, he stubbornly commits to it. even if he can see in your eyes that you're hesitantly letting him go again. it's in these rare moments that he gives you a small, warming smile and a gentle embrace— he tells you that he'll do his best, for the preservation of belobog, for its people— and most importantly, you.
bothering him on patrol isn't one of your favourite activites, there are definitely more enriching things out there, but you still do it from time to time. usually, it's when the nights are a little colder and you can't seem to sleep. it's the same old thing, each and every time. he tells you you should get home, but not after a quick walk together with him. you'd chat about the little things, and he'd even shyly try to hold your hand in such a moment. after that, he personally escorts you back to your residence, and never forgetting to leave without a kiss goodnight. it may be a simple kiss on the back of your hand, or you might get up for a quick kiss on the cheek. you don't know what you do to him.
gepard doesn't strike me as a type that knows a lot in this area. he was born and raised as a noble child, and then went straight into becoming a protector of the city he grew up in. he'd feel a little flustered at a few things, the ideas and thoughts that come to him while together with you. he's even more embarrassed as he goes to his sister for advice on how to deal with such emotions. he reads books, fiction of romance that he does best to turn into your reality. it's not perfect— he's still clueless on what's a really good date— but he's always trying harder just for you.
it's not often that he gets free time, but once he does, he's quick to seek you out... after his sister of course. for many good reasons, actually. other than the usual check in with his sister he loves so dearly, she is more helpful than most others despite her teasing. serval is a big source of support in his relationship with you, not to say you two can't handle it yourselves. he's just rather clueless about love as a whole sometimes, and she's there to give him a little nudge in the right direction. thanks to her, gepard brought you flowers once, and he does it every so often.
never underestimate the lengths he'd go for you. he may be constantly out there in the front lines trying to combat the antimatter legion and the fragmentum, and he may be busy with training the guards or some other silvermane business, but he would always keep you in mind. you're part of his motivation, and you've grown to be the biggest part of it. you could tell him it's nothing important, if you ask for something, like a favour or likewise, but because it's you, he'll put it right at the top of his priorities. you are his priority.
dates are difficult, especially when you're captain of the guards. walking around with him attracts more attention than any other thing, but it doesn't stop him from inviting you out. the luxuries of belobog would be easy for him to indulge in, as a landau and as captain, but truly, simply spending time with him is enough. your favourite dates are ones where you freely walk aimlessly in the day, perhaps after a bite to eat. fresh snowfall is light upon the city streets, unlike the eternal freeze. you find it hard to resist temptation, letting yourself be swept off your feet for a sweet kiss in the everlasting winter snow.
gepard landau has an immense lack of charm. he's stubborn, he's uncompromising, and maybe even a little dense or a little blunt. but the brighter side of these qualities always show around you. he'll find a way to see you, and he won't rest until he has. his lack of knowledge in this department has him cutely flustered from time to time, but also has him doing unknowingly romantic things. he loves you, and he wants you to know that.
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dix0nvix3n · 10 days
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𖤓°⋆ Chapter 1 °⋆𖤓
⋆☀︎。Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader  ⋆☀︎。Media: The Walking Dead; No Apocalypse & Alternate Universe ⋆☀︎。Pronouns: She/Her  ⋆☀︎。 Warning: Smoking (Cigarettes), One mention of weed, Talk of a bad past relationship. (That's it I think?) ⋆☀︎。 Word Count: 2.5k
⋆☀︎。 Author's Note: It's finally here... the beginning of my magnum opus. Even though I only have this one chapter out, there hasn't been a single day since I came up with the idea for the fic where I didn't think about it at least once. I just wanna thank all the people who let me infodump about it; y'all are true soldiers, cause I can really ramble on. Special thanks to @sinkdownbeneath for helping me write the intro because I was completely stuck for months with almost nothing to show, and being the person who let me yap the most, he can account for me pretty much talking about it every day for the past five months. So, anyway, I guess I hope y'all like my first finished something that wasn't just a blurb. Last night I only had a little over 200 words at 10 PM something, and now it's 7:44 AM with 2.5k words as I write this... I don't know what got into me, but anyway, enjoy!
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June 1st, 1992
Daryl finds himself propped up against a tree, catching his breath. The cool summer air around him makes his chest ache with every breath he takes. He had been running, hearing the twigs snap and the leaves crunch beneath his feet as he darted past every tree, trying to evade potential capture from a party that had him jumping out a window when the cops showed up due to a noise complaint.
He spent much of his life within the comfort of the woodland, underneath the thick canopy of leaves and branches, the first roof he ever felt safe under.
He gasped for air, his legs exhausted and his lungs overworked, adrenaline still pulsing through him as he slid down the rough bark of a tree, pulling his legs up to his chest.
He's close to the road, hearing a solitary car cruise past. He can tell it's late from the stars that peek through the leaves that loom above him in the thick black sky, but he spots his glimmer of hope, which seems to be the soft light of a gas station just a bit beyond the road's traffic barrier closest to him.
With a deep inhale, Daryl knew he had to walk to the gas station and reluctantly call for a ride in a phone booth.
After fully catching his breath, he pulled himself off the ground and began walking towards the gas station, already dreading the thought of the phone call.
Reaching the gas station, he saw two cars; one belonged to the lone worker at the cash register inside, and the other belonged to a woman smoking a cigarette at the side of the building. The woman did a quick wave at him, which he found to be a little odd just because most people at this time of night aren't too friendly, but he gave a polite wave back anyway. 
Finally getting up to the phone booth, Daryl looked down at his watch, which read 1:00 AM, causing him to let out a deep sigh, realizing how late it was and how much of an inconvenience it would be for someone to come and pick him up. 
He stepped inside the phone booth, staring at the phone for a minute before popping in the quarters he luckily grabbed from the living room floor of the party. If he hadn't grabbed them, he'd be completely fucked and have to figure out his way back to his apartment.
After dialing the number he knew would pick up, the phone rang just a few times before a tired and clearly just woken up by a phone at one in the morning voice picked up.
"Hey, Mr. H... Could ya pick me up?"
"Thanks. 'm sorry about this; kinda just started walking and didn't stop. Ended up at some party, and now I don' know where I am."
"Yeah. Place is called Peachy Speed, never seen another gas station called this; it must be family-owned or somethin' and the closest road sign says it's on Navel Street. You know where I'm at?"
"Okay, cool. See ya in a bit. Sorry again."
After hanging up, Daryl stepped out of the phone booth with his head held down, letting out a deep exhale and running a hand through his hair until he heard a pair of feet shuffling up to him.
He looked up to see who it was, and it was you, the woman who waved at him.
"Need one?" You held out an open pack of Marlboro Reds, with only one cigarette missing from the pack.
"Oh. Yeah. Thanks." His thoughts stuttered for a moment because he was caught up in the fact that you came over to him. You're really pretty, and now Daryl feels like a nervous schoolboy trying to ask a girl to the prom just because of a simple gesture.
He grabbed a cigarette out of the box and reached to pull his lighter out of his pocket, only not to feel it, and checked the other pocket to have the same luck. "Shit."
You let out a small chuckle. "Need a light too?” You pulled a lighter out of your pocket and handed it over to him.
He nodded his thanks and popped the cig in his mouth before lifting the black bic with a spiderweb seemingly hand-painted on up to the end of the stick. Flicking the flame to life, he took a long inhale and handed you back the lighter, as he really took a moment to take in the sight of you. 
You were in a black tank top tucked into a pair of black ripped jean shorts. Under the pair of jean shorts were fishnets with an intricate pattern of moons and stars, and you had on a pair of slightly battered-up Doc Martens. 
As he exhaled the first plume of smoke into the night sky, he saw your kind smile, which sent a rush of warmth through his face. Your lips had a simple gloss on them, but your eyes were a different story, painted with smokey eyeshadow, sharp graphic eyeliner, and two rounds of mascara on each set of your top lashes. He also noticed the simple yet pretty titanium stud on the left side of your nose and two helix rings on both your ears.
He thought you were gorgeous, his heartbeat a slightly faster pace than what it normally rested at.
"Rough night?" You asked as you lit up a cigarette for yourself, letting out a slight gag at the taste and smell that you weren't used to, which caused Daryl to let out a small chuckle.
"Sorta. More of just hated the fact I had to call and wake someone up to come and get me. First time smokin'?" He said before he took another drag.
"How'd you know?" You said sarcastically as your face contorted in disgust a bit at the taste building up in your mouth and throat after each puff.
"Maybe try a different brand. You'll find one ya like." A small smile graced his lips as he butted off the ash at the end and took another drag. 
"Nah. Think I'm quitting after this one. I'll just stick to weed."
He let out a chuckle. "May I ask, why'd ya even start?"
You let out a small groan, running your hand through your hair in slight embarrassment. "I finally left my shitty boyfriend once and for all. I finally realized he'd never like me for the real me. I constantly had to put on this mask around him, and I finally found out that it was impossible to fix him and the fact he didn't actually like me. I know it sounds weird, but I guess my thought process was that my epiphany about him would stick with me after smoking one like a character in a movie or something." You let out a laugh. "Stupid, right?" 
He snubbed out the end of the cigarette, as it was almost a roach at this point. "Nah, it ain't stupid. A lot of my best thoughts come after smokin' one, cleared my head more times than I can count. You deserve one after the bullshit he put you through, I think. Hope the prick is havin' a shit night after realizin' he's lost you cause ya seem awesome to me so far."
You felt warmth begin to rise in your cheeks at his words. "Thanks. I know I deserve better. I'm just pissed; it took me so long to realize it. So, anyway, what's your name? I can't believe I haven't asked yet."
"Name's Daryl; what's yours?"
You had a few good puffs left of your cig but decided to snub yours out as well since you didn't like it anyway. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Daryl. My name is (Y/N). Do you wanna come sit with me at my spot against the wall? My most likely melted slushy is calling my name to get this taste out of my mouth." 
"Yeah, I can. Might be a bit till my ride gets here, so I might as well sit down." He started walking to your spot, and you followed in tow. 
When you got back to your spot, you looked down at your slushy on the ground. The dark purple concoction of blue raspberry and cherry slushy combo was completely melted. "Goddammit." You didn't fully care though; you paid for that slushy, because you were stubborn it meant you were going to have all of what you paid for, so you drank down the rest of the sugary liquid with a satisfied sigh. It was luckily still cold, at least, and it was just what you needed to get the taste of the cigarette out of your mouth.
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As time passed, you and Daryl talked about whatever came to mind as you doodled some intricate pattern on the front of the pack of the Marlboro Reds with a sharpie, ultimately moving to the back when you ran out of room. You found out that he works as a mechanic for motorcycles and cars at a nearby auto body shop, that he rides a motorcycle that he built himself a few years ago, that he loves to hunt on occasion, specifically with a crossbow, and that he ran from the cops at a house party tonight.
You knew your short time with Daryl was up when you saw a 1987 Ford Sierra MK2 pull into a parking spot at the gas station, and Daryl stood up, doing a quick stretch. The man in the car smiled and made a small wave at you, and you did the same back.
"It was nice meetin' ya, (Y/N). I'd talk more, but I don't wanna keep him up any longer." He said as he gestured a hand towards the man who came to pick him up. 
"It was nice meeting you too. Thanks for talking to me, Daryl." You pulled the pack of cigarettes from your pocket and held them out to him. "Take these. You need them more than me. Plus, I just quit." You grinned at him as he took the box from you. 
"Holy shit, thank you." He smiled back as he placed the box in his own pocket and slowly started walking backward towards the car. "Hope ya have a good night and that Nick the dick has a shit one. 
You let out a laugh at the nickname Daryl gave your ex-boyfriend and waved him goodbye with a "You too." You leaned your head back against the wall, staring up at the night sky as your eyes finally began to feel tired, knowing you should head back to your friend's apartment soon and try and get some sleep before your nine AM shift. 
Once Daryl got in the car, he let out a quiet sigh as he looked out the window at you, wishing he dared to ask for your number. You were the first good conversation he'd had in a while, and his schoolboy-like crush on you kept growing the whole time you talked.
"So, who's that?" The man said as he shifted the car into gear, Daryl noticing the grin on his face.
"A girl that started talkin' to me after our call. Name's (Y/N)." He pulled the pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, mindlessly tracing the pattern of doodles you did.
"You ask for her number? The car was now beginning to be backed out of its parking spot.
"Nah. Mind if I smoke?" Daryl shook the pack and began looking for one of the lighters he left in the glove compartment a few weeks ago. 
The man shook his head with a slight sigh and said, "Go ahead." He wasn't shaking his head over Daryl wanting to smoke, but over the fact he wouldn't ask for your number when he obviously liked you, but he knew he couldn't push him; he understood Daryl's nature.
Daryl looked back out the window at you, opening it as he blew out the first cloud of smoke. He then looked back down in his lap where the box lay, flipping it over to the back to see what you had drawn there as well. His breath hitched as he saw it. On the back was your phone number, and above it said, "Call me" with a smiley face. 
The tips of Daryl's ears were beet red, and he tried to hold back his face from turning the same color. He looked back out the window at you to see you grinning at him this time, to which he smiled and waved goodbye to you as the car pulled out of the lot. In Daryl's twenty-three years of life, he could say that this night was one of his best.
"Daryl, why'd you call me Mr. H again? Son, you've known me for five years; how many times do I gotta remind you to call me by my name? It's Dale for you."
Daryl let out a small cloud of smoke this time, wanting to savor this one on the peaceful ride back. "I'll tell ya again, it happens when I'm nervous; didn't wanna wake you up, s'all, and you still are my boss after all."
"Daryl, you're like a son to me, and I told you to never be nervous if you need help, and that includes coming and picking you up in the middle of the night if needed. I'm here for you." Dale placed his right hand on Daryl's shoulder, keeping his left on the wheel as he squeezed his shoulder lightly before returning it to the steering wheel.
"Now, it's not Mr. H or Mr. Horvath, son. It's Dale."
Daryl rolled his eyes playfully. "Yes, sir," he joked, letting out a chuckle.
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It was the next day around 10:30 PM when Daryl picked up the phone on his nightstand and finally called the number you gave him, nervously wrapping the cord around his finger. The phone only rang twice before the other end picked up, "Hey, is this (Y/N)?" 
The inner teenage girl in your brain screamed in excitement, so happy that he finally called. "Omg, Daryl! I was wondering when you were gonna call me. I've been waiting since I got off my shift."
"Didn't know if you worked a mornin' shift or got off at night, and I didn't wanna leave too many voicemails on your friend's phone."
"Yeah, I worked a morning shift at the diner today. I got off at five. Morning shifts are the fucking worst." You're lying on your stomach on the couch, playfully curling the phone's cord around your finger and kicking your feet back and forth in the air.
You and Daryl talked for an hour, mainly talking about the shitty customers you dealt with today, sounding especially frustrated about the woman who yelled at you just because the diner was out of unsweet tea that you couldn't do anything about because the place was also out of tea bags to make more. What did she want you to do? Just up and leave your job and go buy the tea bags, your fucking self?
"Even though I don't want to, I gotta go to bed 'cause I have another morning shift tomorrow. I get off at five, so call me around six-thirty, okay?" 
"I get off at five too. Works for me. Goodnight, (Y/N)."
"Goodnight to you too, Daryl."
The call ended, and you both looked up at your respective ceilings, smiling as warmth bloomed through your faces. You both slept well that night, falling asleep to the thought of calling each other tomorrow.
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⋆☀︎。 Extra author's note: Here's what Dale would look like in 1992, I took Dale's age of 64 from the show since the apocalypse started in 2010 so he'd be 46 in 1992. I think this picture of Jeffrey Demunn is from when he was 43 maybe? I can't remember but that's close enough to 46 and even if he isn't 43 in the image he fits the look of someone in their mid-forties. Just imagine him without the cowboy hat, okay? There's not a lot of pictures of him when he was younger.
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⋆☀︎。 Taglist: @mrdixon , @yevmarie , and @shadowcitrine
⋆☀︎。 Divider creds: @ saradika, go check her account out! She has some very cute dividers!
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177 notes · View notes
sumnthingabouther · 1 month
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⋆·˚ ༘ * thinking about vi & caitlyn x high femme! reader
cw: i did not proofread this so its a bit messy. i literally posted this as soon as i finish writing it LMAO
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these two girls cannot get enough of you. they love the cute outfits you put together, vi swears no matter what you wear you can always pull it off. dont get me started on catilyn, she's the one spoiling the hell out of you. paying for your nails, hair, and lashes. you swear to her every time that you can cover it yourself, but she doesn't care and loves the smile you have on your face when you’ve been fully pampered. you wont admit it to her face but deep down in your heart you love it.
chivalry isn't dead when they're around either, always keeping you between them when you guys are out and about. vi is always on the side facing the street, while caitlyn stands to the side that's closest to the foot traffic making sure people don't brush up against you on accident. and yes vi will always open doors and carry bags for you both thats just a given.
they love watching you touch up your makeup in your pocket mirror, seeing how focused you are when you reline your lips with lip liner. or when you touch up your gloss when you start to feel that it's drying out.
speaking of being stuck in the middle of them, yes you will always be between them when they hug, kiss, cuddle you, etc.
when you guys wind down for the day vi made a habit to perch herself in the bathroom doorway to watch cait and you do your nightly skincare routine. sometimes and only sometimes will vi allow you two to trap her on the bed and pamper her with self care products. she will fall asleep every time too.
what can i say, these two are absolutely whipped for you.
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i kind of based this little blurb off of my girlfriend and me and she's so vi coded it makes me SICK !! i love my butch so much.
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purplekiwis · 10 months
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𝑲𝒊𝒔𝒔𝒂𝒃𝒍𝒆
Summary: While they're on opposite ends of the social spectrum, Y/N and Harry have been the closest of friends for years. But could it be that an all-night working session for a science project helps them break out of the friendzone?
Genre: Friends to Lovers | Nerd!Harry x Badgirl!Y/N
Warnings: SMUT | Self-Deprication | This is coming-of-age story. There's no mention of their age but both characters are in their last year of high school (just a heads up in case someone doesn't want to read because of that)
Wordcount: 10k
A/N: ok y'all, so i have made a mistake.
i was like 99% sure there was a request in my inbox asking for a blurb where harry was nerdy? i found it interesting so i started working on it... only to realize halfway into things that that was not in fact what was written in the request 😅
i figured i might as well post it anyways since i wrote it but yeah... i'm sorry, anon! i (now) know you wanted subby!harry, but all i have to give you is nerd!harry (don't worry, i made him a lil subby just for you 🤫)
also, before y'all flood my inbox with asks about the non finished fics (rightfully so) i hear you and i'm very, very sorry for the lack of updates. i had to take a break because i kept feeling like the texts i could come up with weren't good enough for the stories i wanted to tell. i still partly feel that way, but i'm hoping the lack of real harry content will inspire me to write more in the near future. thank you for reading my dumb little stories, i love you 💖
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Harry was never too fond of grocery shopping.
He really didn’t like the whole “put things inside the cart, remove things from the cart at the cashier, bag them, put them back into the cart, get them in the car, take them out of the car, bring them inside and put them away” process.
It was extremely inconvenient to him.
It was also very time-consuming, though Harry believed this particular belief of his was directly influenced by having to grocery shop with his grandparents every other day.
Naturally, they were slower than he was, so he'd just drag his feet behind them, push the cart and wait for them to ask him to grab something from the shelves that their aging pains no longer allowed them to reach.
That part was fine, what bore him the most was how easily they got sidetracked by trinkets that weren’t on the shopping list. Oh! And how they always managed to locate a random old couple they knew from God knows where who engaged them in talks that appeared to stretch for hours.
Harry would try and make up reasons not to go with them sometimes, but he always felt a little guilty about it afterwards. After all, it was a very small favor for him to help his grandparents with their groceries, considering they had been the ones to provide him with a loving home after his parents failed to do so.
People always seemed to feel sorry for him when they found out he'd grown up without his “real parents” around, but he'd never had reasons to complain, really. Unlike his parents, Joe and Martha had always treated him nicely and made him feel genuinely loved.
They were a little overprotective at times, but like Y/N always said, that was probably because they were retired and watched too much TV.
Speaking of Y/N, Harry didn't hate grocery shopping with her so much. He even kind of enjoyed it as long as the space wasn't too crowded. That day it wasn’t, which he was extremely thankful for because it reduced the chances of them bumping into any familiar faces who might ask about his grandparents, or if the pretty girl he was with was his girlfriend.
That’s another thing he detested about running into people his grandparents were friends with - they loved to pester him with indiscreet questions about his love life that made him go red-faced. It was even worse when he happened to be with Y/N during those times; fortunately, she was always a bit clueless about it. Harry guessed that the reason for that was that she was so comfortable with their friendship that she wasn't even aware of what was going on… even if she thought it a little odd that he kept introducing her as his neighbor even though they weren't neighbors anymore.
Despite the fact that they no longer lived next door to each other, Y/N was still a frequent visitor at Harry’s house. Ever since his family relocated to a different area of the city, it had become custom for her to spend the night whenever the two had group projects to complete.
Their journey was always the same. As soon as they got off the bus from school, they would head to the supermarket to stock up on frozen pizzas and late-night goodies to help them through the long hours they’d be spending working on their computers.
They'd just grabbed their pizzas, as well as another two for his grandparents since pizza happened to be one of the few fast foods that they tolerated, and were now wandering around the drinks aisle looking at the options.
“Do you think your grandma would notice if we hid one of these in your backpack?” Asked the ex-neighbor, Y/N. The smile on her face, coupled with her mischievous gaze got him figuring she was up to no good… even before he noticed the bottle of whatever alcoholic beverage she was holding.
The idea startled him a little more than he'd like to admit. “Don’t start! And put it back before anyone sees you.”
The way his body jumped made Y/N laugh as she set the bottle back on its shelf. “Relax, okay? I was only messing with you... I knew you'd be too chicken to do it. But just so you know, they don't even ask for an ID most times.”
He replied to her with a headshake. “You're not as cool as you think just because you get drunk with your other friends every once in a while.” She didn’t seem too pleased by his remark, but Harry figured that by now she ought to know he didn't mean most of what he said when he was stressed. “You can get an iced tea… or a pepsi… or even that weird-flavored soda you like.”
“Fine.”
Harry noticed that even after he allowed her to pick the drink they’d be having later, Y/N still didn't seem particularly happy with him. She trailed behind him in silence while he pushed the cart around and didn't even appear to care when they walked past the shelf where her favorite snack was.
“Did you know that statistically, people who start drinking in their teens have a 5 times higher likelihood of becoming alcoholics than those who only start later?” Harry knew it probably wasn't the best conversation topic to get her to talk to him, but it was the only thing that came to mind in the moment.
“Did you know that stating facts like that makes you look 1000 times more of a nerd than you already are?”
Harry snorted at her retort. “You didn't seem to mind me being a nerd when you asked me to work on the review paper with you.”
“I do every school project with you, why should this be any different?”
He smirked at that. It was true. He and Y/N had attended every academic year together since they first met in elementary school, and they had managed to enroll in almost all of the same classes each time. They were currently in their senior year of high school, and their friendship was still pretty solid despite their different personalities and social interests.
Y/N was in the midst of a rebellious phase. In the beginning it all had been quite harmless, with her obsession with dyeing the ends of her hair crazy colors and pairing fishnets with knee socks. That somehow led her into starting to hang out with people Harry considered to be a little unnerving.
He wasn't sure what exactly made him nervous about them... Maybe it was because he was a little resentful over having to “compete” for Y/N's attention and feared he would one day completely lose her to them, given that they were undoubtedly the cooler part of the equation. Perhaps part of it was also because those people reminded him of the kind who used to bully him for being a dork when he was younger. Thankfully, he wasn't being bullied as much anymore, but he still didn't have many friends.
He also barely interacted with girls, as one might expect. There were times he had crushes, but he was always afraid to talk to them, so things never really progressed anywhere. Thus, Y/N was really Harry's only female friend.
He confesses sometimes he was surprised she still wanted to hang out with him as much as she did. When she became popular, Harry naturally assumed she would ditch him for social status reasons, but that never happened, which was a big relief to him since he really liked having her around.
They were both geeky, so they watched a lot of sci-fi movies and played video games together... but when it came to other things, they were a little different. Y/N had a much better sense of style, was much more social, and enjoyed doing dumb things like smoking weed and getting drunk behind her parents’ backs.
Harry had never really understood the appeal of it. In fact, his lack of interest in participating in grown-up stuff sometimes worried him a bit, but again... it wasn’t like he wasn’t curious.
There were a few times when he thought it would be cool if he could hang out with Y/N and her friends, go out drinking, dance, and maybe, just maybe, if he was very very lucky, even get to kiss someone on the mouth.
But then he always ended up reasoning that people like him weren't welcome at parties and that if he ever dared to step foot into one he'd probably end up being the butt of everyone’s jokes.
Even knowing so, he couldn't help fantasizing about it… especially the last part. Yes, Harry definitely thought about intimacy a lot more than he'd ever be willing to admit… and he also pondered a lot about how being practically invisible to girls sucked… and about how much he wished one would give him a chance.
He was aware of his issues, however. He knew he wasn’t exactly the hottest guy around. His haircut and clothing were out of style, mostly because he lacked the confidence to mess with his looks and follow the trends the way other people did. He’d buy new t-shirts sometimes; the only thing was that they almost always had videogame-related designs which obviously didn't do his style much good.
But it wasn’t all bad. Harry knew he had nice eyes… he just couldn't get the girls to come close enough to notice them. He figured the way he mostly stared at the floor when he walked, along with the thick glasses he had been wearing since his childhood had also taken part in preventing people from noticing how exquisite his peepers were.
He thought Y/N had nice peepers as well, and he liked the way she accentuated them with make-up… even when her eyeliner turned out a little uneven or got smudgy because she forgot she had it on and rubbed her eyes with her fingers.
She'd been doing that a lot in the last hour they'd been working on their paper, which was making Harry feel a little bad.
It had been a good while since they had returned from the supermarket. The issue was that when they arrived at his house, they found Harry's grandparents working in the backyard. And while Harry had never been a fan of getting his hands dirty in the garden, Y/N thought it would be nice to offer to help, so they ended up spending a good chunk of their afternoon pulling weeds and pruning flower bushes.
And then, since it was already close to dinner time when they finished, they decided it would be best to begin working on the paper after eating and showering the gardening sweat off their bodies. That plan was shelved, however, because Harry really wanted to play Mortal Kombat since it was multiplayer, and he rarely had anyone to play it with. So they wound up wasting an additional hour on that.
Normally, by that time in the evening Y/N would already be working on her part, but as they'd started late, she wasn't. Also, being the control freak he was, Harry always wanted to be the one in charge of the research portion of any papers they worked on. Leaving the final task of writing and flourishing to Y/N.
So the poor girl had been sitting next to him in bed for hours, watching him go through articles on his laptop.
Harry could tell by the increased frequency of her yawns that her battery was running low, so he wasn't the least bit surprised when he heard her hesitantly ask, “Are you planning on staying up working much longer? Aren’t you getting tired?”
“Um… not really. I came across this really interesting essay on our subject and want to make sure we gather all of their data.” He was so preoccupied with copying and pasting that he didn't even look away from the screen as he replied to the question. “It's a shame we don’t have any hot springs nearby... wouldn't it be cool if we could actually collect samples of these microbes to study them in the lab?”
“Are you for real?” She looked at him like he was crazy as she let her back slide halfway down the headboard. “You’re telling me that you really find water microbes that intriguing?”
“Not all of them, it’s just that I’d never considered the possibility that there could be species growing and thriving in actual boiling water… since, you know, that’s what’s supposed to kill them.”
“I didn’t find it so surprising, which is making me wonder if it could be that I’m smarter than you...”
“Not a chance.” Due to the silence that followed his teasing, Harry realized that Y/N was nearing sleep but was resisting in order to maintain her supportive role. “Should I go get the air mattress to make your bed?”
“I can't sleep. I haven't done my part yet.”
“It's fine; we still have the entire day tomorrow to finish.”
“Don't bother with me if you’re focused on the paper. I just need rest my eyes a bit, but I won’t fall asleep.” She promised, but Harry knew better than to believe her. “You don't mind if I cover up with your sheets, right? Your room’s a bit chilly.”
“No, not at all.” He didn't mind it, in fact, he even found it a little exciting. Not in a pervy way, but it felt good to know that a pretty girl would be laying in his bed and would most likely leave a bit of her girly scent on it. Harry tried not to dwell on those kinds of thoughts over Y/N too much, but of course he thought she was pretty. He wasn’t that blind.
He hadn't always felt that way. For a long while Harry just thought of her as his best friend, but she'd grown into her curves in the last couple of years and he would be lying if he said his eyes and mind didn't occasionally wander. He felt a little bad about it, but it wasn't like he was ever going to do anything other than fantasize, so he supposed it was alright… as long as she didn’t catch on.
Truth be told, he’d always liked Y/N’s personality, but as of recently her looks and the way she dressed had also made her the type of girl he was attracted to on the outside. Yes, it was always the girls who wore alternative clothing and scowled at people like they wanted to break their nose that caught his eye.
He was aware that his preference sounded extremely stereotypical coming from a shy loser like him, but it wasn’t like he could help what he was keen on… or the way his body warmed up whenever he felt the pressure of Y/N’s soft boobs against his side.
“Is the entire chapter on Volcanic Islands really necessary?” She asked, leaning further into him so she could see the laptop screen despite being laid down.
“I'm not sure if it's necessary, but I thought we should at least mention these two hot spring locations since they keep coming up in the articles.” He could feel her sigh of defeat on his arm. “It’s already halfway done. I've already gotten all the info about Iceland… now all that's left is this tiny archipelago from Portugal.” With that, Harry rushed to type the final location on the Google search bar but was taken aback by Y/N's chuckling, that seemed to come out of nowhere. “What are you laughing at?”
“Do you not know how to delete your browsing history?” She asked him, still laughing.
Harry's brows furrowed slightly, but he smiled along. “Huh, why? Seriously random that.”
“Random, really? I may only be half awake, but I can still see.”
“See what?”
“See Pornhub come up on your suggestions when you started typing Portugal.” Harry's face dropped instantly. Then, with a harsh slam, he shut his laptop lid. He could feel his entire body tensing up just as a blazing sensation swept across his face, hotter than he'd ever felt before. “Harry, relax! You look like you’re about to blow up!” Y/N remarked when she saw him like that. She seemed rather worried about it as she clung to his arm to try to calm him down. “Hey, look at me, this isn’t a bad thing. You don't have to-”
Before she could say anything else, Harry curled up in a ball, covered his face with his sheets and muttered, “Yes it is. It’s embarrassing.” Honestly, even that felt like a tame word to describe how he was feeling. This was, hands down, one of the most awkward circumstances he’d ever been in. He wasn't prepared to deal with it, so he chose to remain hidden and avoid further conversation.
He knew he'd have to come out at some point, but he couldn’t bear the thought of facing Y/N knowing that she knew he watched porn and wanked. It was making him feel all kinds of yucky, which was why he was a bit shocked by what happened right after.
Y/N ventured under the sheets after him, and eventually nestled into his side. The warmth felt nice, but being so close to her was weird. He liked it a lot, but it also made him feel worse at the same time, given that she'd been the catalyst for his breakdown in the first place and all that. Plus, he still couldn't wrap his head around why she wanted to touch him when he felt so icky.
Despite the fact that they were right next to each other, it took a while for one of them to venture breaking the silence. By the time Harry tried, he had a dry mouth, so he had to swallow first. “I know it’s not your fault, but I'd honestly rather you hadn't said anything because knowing you saw is making me feel really gross.”
His faltering whispers seemed to stun Y/N a little, as if she'd already accepted that they wouldn't be talking for the rest of the night. “There's no need for you to feel that way… especially not with me.” She returned his hushed words. “I wouldn't have said anything if I knew you'd get like this. I was just trying to be funny.”
“I know, but it still bothers me.” Harry was a little surprised by how at ease he felt speaking in quiet whispers while hiding under his covers. For some reason, talking to Y/N in this setting wasn’t as mortifying as he'd anticipated. “And just to be clear, I have no idea how that stupid website ended up in my suggestions. I always use incognito mode for that stuff.”
He couldn't see her, but he could feel her shrug. “You must have forgotten to open a new tab at some point. It has happened to me before.”
“Oh. So. You watch it too?”
“Doesn't everybody, at least once in a while?”
“I don’t know… I suppose they must, yeah.” They both fell quiet for a bit, but not for longer than a few breaths as Harry felt the urge to clarify something. “I don't want you to think I'm a perv, though. I don't watch it all that often… not the kind of stuff that you’re probably thinking I watch, anyway.”
“What do you think I think you watch?”
“I don’t know, like… classic, scripted porn… you know, the typical “oh no, I’m stuck!” cringe stuff that always shows up on the main page.”
“Um… I’ll be honest, you’ve always came across as more of a Hentai guy to me. And before you say anything, this isn't just me calling you a weeaboo. I’ve watched my share too and overall I think it's much better than that other porn you were talking about.”
“Yeah, fine... I'll admit that I like Hentai, but it’s not all I watch.” Harry wasn't sure why he suddenly felt so keen on sharing, but he was really enjoying their conversation. He found the topic interesting, and he'd never had the chance to discuss it with anybody in person before so… it was fun. And, on top of that, Y/N was disclosing a bit too and he liked that he was getting to know this part of her as well. “Do you know what audio porn is?” She hummed and nodded yes. “Cool, so, there’s this category called ‘guided masturbation’ that’s basically just girls talking and telling you what to do. There’s no visual content really, but it has a very intimate feel to it that I like... almost as if you're on the phone with someone.”
“That's interesting, actually. I always thought that audio porn mostly for women, since, you know... everyone says men are visual creatures.” She shifted her weight slightly, turning towards him. “But you still find real naked girls hot, right? the sight of them?”
“Well, of course. I’d be worried if that wasn’t the case.” Her question struck Harry a little, but he liked that she was acting curious and asking him things. “Honestly, I think the reason why I don't watch more regular porn is because I can't picture myself living out the fantasies. I don’t know, it’s weird to explain.”
“You can’t picture yourself in a sexy plumber costume ready to unclog a hot milf’s pipes?”
Harry snorted. “You're joking, but that's pretty much what it is.”
She hummed as she drew closer to him on the bed. This time her, placing her head into the crook of his arm. Her mouth was closer to Harry's ear in this position, although he wasn't aware of this until he heard, and felt, her whisper again. “Is that why you like it when girls tell you what to do? because it seems a little more plausible?”
Harry wasn't usually one to cuss, but shit. Hearing her whisper that somewhat snarky question so close to his ear struck a chord with him. It was freaking hot and kind of reminded him a bit of the audios he liked. Obviously, it wasn't as explicit, but it was better in many ways. A huge downside to the experience, however, was that it was extremely difficult to concentrate afterward. In fact, in the midst of his thoughts, Harry almost forgot to reply. “Um… I guess? I’m sorry, I kind of forgot what the question was.”
“No, it’s all good. I’m sure you must be getting tired.” With that, Y/N crawled out from under the covers. As she did so, her hand stumbled onto Harry’s toppled over laptop. “Oh, I didn’t even notice this was here. We should probably turn it off, right? Assuming you don't want to keep working after this.”
Harry also came out from hiding and sat up in a position similar to hers, with his legs partially covered by the covers. As his eyes re-acclimated to the brightness of the room, he massaged them a little. “Sure. I’ll just need a moment to, uh… make sure the file got saved properly, if that’s okay.”
Taking advantage of his temporary blindness, Y/N snatched his pillow from his side of the bed. She tucked it under herself and slid back under the sheets. “I've got a comfy bed already so… feel free to take as much time as you need.”
He laughed at her antics as he readjusted the laptop over his legs and opened it. Turns out the file had been autosaved, but Harry still saved it once more before switching off his computer and setting it over his desk. “Yeah, that's fine. I don’t mind giving you my bed for the night and sleeping on the air mattress for a change.”
“Or you could spare yourself and sleep right there instead of stressing about which one of us will be sleeping on the floor.”
Her offer caused his eyebrows to rise, but he wasn't sure if that was a good thing to do. He liked the idea of it but was a little concerned about accidentally doing something embarrassing in the middle of the night. What if he made a toot? Or worse, had a wet dream? He hadn't had any recently, but one never knew when it might start happening again. In any case, he'd probably wake up with a stupid morning wood as usual, which was something that he could typically make go away before he got up when Y/N was around… but if she was going to sleep next to him, wasn’t there a chance she could tell? That prospect made him terrified. “Um… I'm not sure that I'm a good sleep partner; My grandma says I used to move a lot in my sleep when I was small.”
“Oh. I don’t mind. I just really don't want to go to sleep by myself for some reason.” Y/N shrugged, leaving him unsure of what to say next. It was already difficult to say no when it wasn’t what he wanted to say, but it became nearly impossible when he looked at her and met her begging eyes.
Well then, if she was being so casual about it, he figured it must not be that common for people to do humiliating things in their sleep, contrary to what he had previously been led to believe by his insecurities. The other factor that was pushing him to say yes was that having to get up to grab the air mattress from the attic and make Y/N a bed sounded a little too demanding for how lazy he was feeling. His bed wasn't even tiny either, so they'd have plenty of room to spread out without troubling one another throughout the night. “Ok, alright. But don't grumble tomorrow about having trouble falling asleep because of me. This was entirely your idea.”  
“I don’t grumble.” He made sure to let her see his eyeroll before turning off the lights and getting into bed with a second pillow for himself. No one said anything for a bit, they were just adjusting their positions in search for the most comfortable one. Harry was still wide-awake, but he believed it wouldn't be long until Y/N fell asleep. She was already close to when they were working on the paper, so it shouldn't take long at all.
She proved him wrong, though, when she blurted out something after minutes of being quiet. “I have another question for you...”
“Oh. What’s that?”
Harry saw a shadow that he believed to be her head poking up from the pillow, propped on what should be her arm. Her voice sounded quite chirpy too, which meant he’d probably underestimated how awake and willing to chat his friend actually was. “Have you ever… like, kissed anyone?”
“That’s so random.” It was during times like these that Harry wished he could travel back in time. If he could turn back the clock and pretend to be asleep two seconds ago when Y/N asked if she could ask him a question, he wouldn’t even think twice. Heck, he'd even pretend to snore if it meant not having to respond but alas, since Harry didn’t have any time travel abilities, that wasn’t an option anymore. She knew he was awake and was anxiously awaiting his response. “You're quite random sometimes, Y/N...”
Her voice was hushed, yet a little taunting. “That’s not an answer.”
Harry sighed, realizing she wasn't going to let him off the hook until he participated in the discussion she wanted to have. “Alright, then… define kissing... does something like a peck qualify?”
“No, Harry. I'm talking about actual kissing. Tongue and all.”
“Oh um. I knew that, obviously.”
“And did you do it or not?”
“Yeah I, uh. I've kissed...” His words stumbled slightly. They didn't come out as cool or confident as he’d hoped, but he did try to make his statement sound plausible. “But it wasn’t with a lot of tongue... just like, a little bit.”
Y/N let out a snort at his unconvincing answer. “You’re a shit liar, but fine. I used to lie about it too when people asked me.” Rather than defending himself, Harry didn't say anything, which told his friend all she needed to know. “Is it something you think about, though? would you like to do it?”
“Well, yeah… of course I’d like to. Even some of the guys I hang out with have done it... and you’ve seen them.” Harry felt a bit mean making that remark about his friends' looks. Obviously, he wanted them to have someone who liked them, but that didn’t change the fact that none of them had much going in terms of physical appeal. “I'm not saying this to make you feel sorry for me. I know I’m the problem and that the reason why I haven’t kissed yet is because I’m not a kissable person. My only hope is that things will change once we start college. I don't know if I ever told you before, but I would really like to get contacts soon. I was also thinking it could be nice to start exercising more just so clothes would fit me better. What do you think? It should help, right?”
Even in total darkness, Harry could tell that Y/N's eyebrows were deeply furrowed by her tone of voice. “Who was it that told you you weren't kissable?”
“Nobody needed to tell me. I see myself every time I look in the mirror. I dress like my grandpa and have a bit of a hunch like him too.”
“I think you're mistaking being unattractive for wearing clothes that aren’t particularly flattering. It's very different.” Harry knew she couldn't see it, but he was kissing his teeth at what she’d said. “If the reason why you want to make those changes is to feel better about yourself, then you have my full support… I do, however, have a feeling that’s not all it is, so I hope you realize that you don’t have to bend over backwards to be likable or kissable, or anything else. You already are all of those things exactly as you are.”
“I appreciate you sugarcoating things in order to cheer me up but if what you are saying were true, and I was fine the way I am, I wouldn't have this much trouble finding someone who saw that in me.” He sighed, a little annoyed by her efforts. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but it’s hard for me to believe you’ll ever understand what it feels like to be me. You’re like... the coolest, most kissable girl ever.”
There was a slight click, and suddenly the room got soaked in an orange light that caused Harry to squint despite his familiarity with it. His bedside table lamp was on, and Y/N was staring at him in awe. “You think I’m kissable?”
Crap. Had he really blurted it out that way? He couldn't recall the precise words he had used, but it seemed unlikely that Y/N was asking him that for no reason. She looked very taken aback by what she’d heard, and Harry, who still hadn't a clue how he’d managed to put his foot in it yet again, felt his face turn red and his tongue stutter once more. “Not in a weird way! Maybe I phrased it in a way that made it seem like I was being weird, but it was just a form of expression. Not that what I said isn’t true, but I would never say it like that. Even if I wanted to kiss you, which has never crossed my mind until now, really. I don't know why my brain decided to picture that ridiculous scenario all of sudden.”
“Hm.” Y/N’s gaze was drawn to her hands as he finished. Harry observed that she was picking at her nail polish, which was rather unusual for her unless she was getting nervous. “Is it really that ridiculous? I mean, if you wanted to, I wouldn't mind...”
His forehead wrinkled. “Why? Because you feel sorry for me?”
“No Harry, because I'd like to.”
“Me? You’d like to kiss me? Why?”
Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” Her tone was a little hesitant, but she carried on. “Aff, okay… screw it. I might as well tell you since we’re talking about it. So, I, uh. I have a bit of a thing for you. I’ve had it for a while, but it was never too serious… just a little crush since well, I never really felt like there was a real possibility that it could be reciprocated. That’s why I didn’t tell you sooner, that and because I wasn't sure how things would turn out if you rejected me so… I figured it would be best not to say anything.” She shrugged once more, as a small smile formed on her lips. “You’ve also never mentioned having any crushes or expressed attraction for anyone in particular, so I thought maybe you weren't interested in that type of stuff much.”
“Yeah, right.” Harry rolled over in bed, facing away from her. It wasn’t unusual of Y/N to play practical jokes on him from time to time, but this one did not go over well with him. It seriously screwed with his self-esteem and since it was her, he could have easily been tricked into admitting something regarding his feelings, what made it even worse. “I know you’re taking the piss and I don’t think it’s funny at all.”
“Why would I be taking the piss? Do you really think I'd joke about something like this? And look at me when I'm speaking to you!” She pulled on his shoulder, compelling him to lie onto his back so she could at least see his face.
Harry complied with her, but not without a groan. “I'm serious Y/N. If you’re trolling, this is your one chance to say so ‘cause If I find out later that you were doing this to trick me or to see me make a fool of myself or to get me flustered, I'm going to get really, really angry at you.”
“I may play a lot of dumb jokes, but I don't play with people's feelings like that… let alone my friends' feelings. I'm dead serious, Harry. It's really not that hard to see it if you think a little.” She huffed, upset that he wasn’t taking her seriously. She'd guessed he’d act a little wary at first but hadn't expected him to think she was pulling a prank on him. How could he have missed that she had a thing for him anyway, with how touchy she was when they were alone together? With her acting so eager to be his first kiss? She'd been shit at hiding it for years. It was so clear. “Do you remember that time when we were 9, my parents took us to a fancy playground with boats and there was a girl there who had a Nintendo but wouldn't let me play with it, she would only let you, so I snatched it from your hands?”
"Yeah, I remember.” As he replied, Harry was unable to stop himself from letting out small laugh at the memory. “And then you threw it in the water because you'd heard from someone at school that Nintendo’s were waterproof. All the parents got so mad, and the girl wouldn't stop crying. It was awful.”
“Yeah, that. Except, I never really thought that they were waterproof. I did it because she was pretty... and it made me upset that you’d replaced me with her and left me to play alone, despite her being mean to me.” Y/N admitted, also laughing and shaking her head a bit at her childish antics. “Obviously I didn't know back then what being jealous was, but I think about that day a lot... it makes me feel embarrassed of what I did, but it also makes me realize that I've always been really possessive of you. I think if you'd turn out to have many girlfriends you would have realized much sooner that my feelings for you weren't just friendly ones.”
“Wow. Was that really what that was?” Harry was stupefied and Y/N couldn't not giggle at his open mouthed reaction. “I’m sorry, it’s just… this whole thing is really confusing. My head is spinning a bit and... being completely honest, part of me still thinks that you’re joking but at the same time, you seem serious enough so I’m gonna choose to believe you. Even if I have no idea why you'd like me that way, other than maybe ‘cause I have green eyes and am tall.
“The hair too. Don't forget your fluffy hair.” She added playfully. “No but, I like all of those things obviously, but they aren’t the reason why I like you. I just do. There’s no logical explanation for it.”
“Yeah, um. That makes sense. I mean, not really but I think I understand that feeling you were describing and… I can kind of relate to it too since I've kind of had a small crush too since last year… or well, I've realized last year... back when you were dating that Joshua guy. It made me a little jealous. I’ve always thought it was silly though, so I tried not to think about it too much.” Harry acknowledged, albeit doing it with more trepidation and delay than Y/N had. “I've had other crushes too, but they were on girls I never talked to so... they didn’t last too long.”
“Wait so… you’ve had a crush too? since that long?”
“I- uh.. I have. Yeah.”
“You must be really good at hiding your feelings then, because I never noticed anything that suggested that, much less that you were jealous. Trust me, if I had any inkling I would’ve had this conversation with you last year instead of doing what I did. I didn’t even like Joshua much… I just wanted to have someone.” She pursed her lips in a mournful smile before reaching out for Harry's hand. It wasn’t the first time that their hands had brushed, but this time something in Harry's chest was sparked by her touch, making him feel both ecstatic and stiff at the same time. “It's nice that you've had other crushes, though. I think I'd be more upset if I found out you'd been caught up on me all this time and I'd just been completely unaware of it. With that said, I don't want you thinking about other girls now. Only me.”
“Yeah, okay. Just you. I like how that sounds a lot.” Harry had no idea what had possessed him, but he felt compelled to bring her hand to his mouth and kiss it. His gesture made her giggle, but he got somewhat self-conscious afterwards. “Was that lame? Probably, right?”
“No, it was cute. I loved it.” She reciprocated by lifting his hand to her mouth and placing a kiss over his knuckles. “Is there anywhere else you’d like me to kiss?”
With a tentative smile, he gave her a direct glance before nodding. Y/N scooted a bit closer to him but as they got closer, Harry's body tightened a little. He couldn't take his eyes off her lips, yet the sight of the rosy, fluffy cushions was giving him pause. “I’m sorry if I’m not… uh… if I don’t know how to...”
She gave his cheek a comforting caress. “That’s fine, but are you okay? You’re shaking a bit.”
Harry laughed, feeling rather frustrated with himself. “Yeah, um… sorry about that. I'm just really nervous.”
“It can wait if you're not ready.” Y/N made a point of assuring him, even though she had a feeling that waiting wasn't what Harry wanted. He was just nervous, which was totally normal for someone who was about to get their first kiss. The most she could do was try to make him a bit calmer. “Is there anything specific that you're worried about?”
“No, I’m ready. It's just a bit overwhelming. This is all so alien to me… knowing you like me and all, it’s a lot for my nervous system to handle.” Y/N couldn’t not frown a bit at how adorable he was as she listened. “I- I'm also a little in over my head, thinking I probably won’t be as good as the boys you've kissed before.”
“You don't have to worry about that, really. Trying stuff until you figure out what makes the other person melt is one of the most fun parts.” She assured, before giving his hand another kiss. “We’ll learn that from one another, okay?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah, okay.”
Upon his approval, Y/N pulled herself closer and higher, until her face was barely above his. They both smiled as she rubbed her nose against his... once, twice, and then it happened. She dropped her head just enough for their lips to touch.
Her tenderness and Harry's stomach-bursting butterflies were in stark contrast, making for a bizarre, yet fascinating combination of sensations.
They weren't quite in time with one another's lips but their kiss was free flowing. And it felt flawless, akin to a Vivaldi concerto or a Michelangelo masterpiece. There was something alarming about it too, however. Suddenly, Harry could feel the relatively insignificant seed of love that Y/N had planted in his heart blossom into a giant sequoia tree. And he couldn't, for the life of him, fathom the possibility of having shared a moment as nice with anyone else.
He was truly loving whatever love spell she was casting on his body with her kissing, which is why he couldn't help but let out a low whimper when he felt their lips unglue from her pulling away. “Why did you- why did you stop?”
“Your stupid glasses are getting in my way.” She explained as she carefully started pulling them off his face. “Here, much better.” As soon as she was done placing his glasses over the nightstand, she raised her leg and straddled him. Well, sort of. It was more of an embrace; except she was laying on top of him. “This is okay, right? Not too much pressure?”
“Mh-mm. Better. Thank you.” Harry's face was flushed, and he couldn't stop smiling as he stared at her. She was so pretty, and her tummy against his felt so cozy. It was still hard to believe he had kissed her, but the sensation on his lips confirmed it was real, despite how uncanny it all felt. “I like this a lot, being this close to you.”
“Me too.” She ran her fingertips across his blushing skin. “You're so cute like this. I should’ve kissed you way sooner. You seem to like it too, don't you?”
“Mh-mm. I really do.” Harry desperately wanted more kisses from her, but he was still a little too unsure of himself to initiate. Besides, he’d really liked when she took initiative earlier and led the way so that’s what he wanted to happen again. “I’d like to do it some more, if that’s okay...”
Y/N smiled at his request, but wasted no time before she leaned in to taste his lips again.
It was mostly just smooches that they were trading, but that didn’t keep her from taking a nibble here and there. Harry was very responsive to her nibbles, which she appreciated. She’d never been with a boy who got whimpery and breathy just from making out before, but she found it to be incredibly encouraging and arousing.
What made it extra hot was knowing he wasn't doing it on purpose because he knew girls liked stuff like that. It was just how his body was reacting to her. She was also well aware that her kisses had gotten him bricked up instantaneously. His warm stiffness was palpable between her thighs, despite being covered by his pajama bottoms.
If it had been any of the boys she’d kissed before, the erection would have freaked her out a bit, but as it was Harry she thought it was cute that he was so excited. He wasn't the only one feeling this way though. The damp panties she had on served as a casual reminder that she was getting quite excited as well.
Despite her wants, Y/N had been doing a great job of controlling herself… only that task became much more challenging when Harry started getting more comfortable, more intuitive, and by default, touchier. At some point in the course of their kissing, he’d started sliding his hands up her back and, on occasion, giving her hips a squeeze. He'd noticed she was pleased by this, so he worked up the nerve to lower his hands to her bum and squeeze her there too.
“Not feeling so shy anymore, are you?” Y/N playfully teased, to which Harry responded by smiling and hiding his face by pulling her in for a hug. It hadn't been her intention to rub up on him, but he’d drew her in so close that their bellies were flush together, so when she shifted next he felt it on his crotch… and moaned, all deep and throaty. They stared at each other, until Y/N turned her mouth to Harry's ear and asked, “Do you want this? want me to do it again?”
His nodding was quick. “Just don't go too fast, ‘cause uh... might feel too good.”
“Okay, got it.” She said, then held onto the pillow under Harry’s head, nails digging into fabric as she began to move slowly on top of him. Rolling her hips to press down on the bulge in his pants. The pressure on her clit was both a blessing and a curse. On the one hand, it was a relief to finally have a way to sooth some of the built-up tension, but on the other, it made her yearn for more friction. She was being good and taking it nice and slow like Harry had asked though.
Still, she could feel his heavy, strained breathing against her skin. “Mm, it's too much, feels… too good. Ah-” He moaned again, once her fingers gripped at the roots of his hair.
“Shh, quiet.” Y/N covered his mouth and smiled. “I love your moans, but we have to keep it quiet.” She said, before removing her hand from his mouth and putting her lips in its place.
“I know, sorry.” Harry replied once she broke their kiss. “If I get loud again, you can repeat that hand thing if you want… it was hot.”
“Hmm, was it?” She returned her hand to his lips, but this time she allowed two fingers to go inside and prod into his mouth, that he was keeping slightly ajar for her. “That’s good, Harry. You're a natural at this, I think.” She had been straddling him with her body leaning over his, but she sat upright for a moment to appreciate how adorable he looked with her fingers in his mouth from farther away. As soon as he saw her eyes fixed on him, his lips encircled her fingers, and his tongue began to softly wriggle between them. “Mh-m... that's it. Just like that.”
As she started moving her hips again, Harry's hands shot to her waist, to hold her as she rutted against him. This gave her more balance, so she ramped up the pace, rubbing harder and faster to create the desired friction for her. The change caught up with Harry quickly, who began groan restlessly into her fingers in response. She pulled them off to let him speak. “S-slow... please go slower. If you don't, I'll-”
“Make a mess. I know. Give me your hands.” As per Y/N’s request, Harry slid his hands away from her waist and held them up between their bodies. Y/N took them, entwined their fingers together and then without warning, allowed her weight to fall forward, successfully pinning him to the bed. “I know you want to, but you're ashamed about doing it in your underwear. So, I was thinking… if I keep you like this and force it out of you, maybe you won't feel so bad about wanting it anymore. What do you say?”
“I just don't want to get you dirty, that's all. I thought I could keep it under control a little better, but I can't. It feels so much better than my hand.” Harry acknowledged, smiling shyly. “That sounds hot, though… the idea of you forcing it.”
“I know but don't worry about getting me dirty. I brought extra pjs.” She gave him a reassuring smile and squeezed his hands. “So…you want to do it, then? Since you think it’s hot…”
A delaying groan rumbled in his throat before his lips parted into a broad smile, the kind of smile you make when you’re on the verge of breaking into laugher. “I’m going be so embarrassed about this tomorrow, but yeah. I want to.”
Y/N shook her head at him, grinning. “Don't. I've always wanted to do this. It's a bit of a fantasy of mine, I guess.” She didn’t give him a chance to react to her confession, as she started rutting against his cock again. This time she wasn’t being gentle or avoiding any harsh friction. Her movements were quicker and jerkier than they had been before, and she tightened her hold on his hands as well. She had a hunch Harry liked the feeling of being held down and used, so that's what she was doing.
He was shivering beneath her, taking fast breaths through his mouth as he looked her in the eyes. The poor baby couldn’t stay quiet for the life of him, either. His whimpers and groans were unrelenting, so she was bound to muffle him once more.
His now-free hand joined hers over his mouth, but it didn’t linger there for long since he took hold of her wrist and started guiding it downward. “My neck,” He pleaded lowly, his voice trembling. “…want your hand on my neck.”
She gave him a devilish smirk before grabbing his throat. She only needed to hold him still; there was no need to squeeze or do anything else. “And I want your cum,” she told him, hoping that slipping in a few dirty words in combination with her movements would make him snap. “…want my thighs all wet and sticky from it.”
Harry’s legs jerked beneath her. “Close,” He warned, a little startled. “So, so close…” The fact that she could not only hear him but also feel his words on his throat as he spoke was incredibly arousing. “Please…” He pled sweetly, what triggered a sudden desire in Y/N's chest to be closer. She released her hold on his throat and hugged him tight as she drove her hips into his, rutting violently to make him orgasm.
It worked.
Between her thighs, Y/N could feel his warm juices seeping through the material of her pajamas. So she kept rutting, wanting to make sure she had extracted every last drop of them.
Harry returned her tight hug all the way through his climax, and he didn’t let go after either. They remained in that position for a while, holding each other close regardless of the slightly unpleasant wetness that was binding them together. “We should probably change right?” Y/N asked after a beat, despite her lack of want to wrest away from him.
“M-hm. I’m all gross and sticky.” Harry laughed. “I’m gonna need another shower in the morning, but for now, I think I'll just wipe it off and put on new boxers. I mean if you don't mind that I don't wear pants to bed…”
“No, I don't mind. I'm gonna take mine off too.”
“Oh. That's a great idea. Sounds perfect to me.” Harry playfully quipped, before he got out of bed and started opening drawers. “Also, um… I don't know how to ask without being weird, but could you close your eyes for a moment? so I can take care of myself real quick?” Y/N said yes and turned away to give him privacy while he cleaned himself and changed. She was a tiny bit surprised that he hadn't wanted to use the restroom for that, but she figured that since it was closer to his grandparents' bedroom at the end of the corridor, he probably didn't want to risk going and waking them up. “Okay… you can look now.”
When Y/N looked at him next, the first thing she noticed was that he had on a pair of tight, black boxers. The next thing she noticed was that Harry was looking at her legs, since, as he’d probably seen when he turned, she had also stripped off her pants in the interim, leaving just her grey panties on. “What?” He smiled in response to her curious gaze.
She wouldn’t bring it up, but she could see he had grown a little hard in his boxers just from seeing her sprawled in bed with no pants on. “Nothing, you’re cute.”
Harry snorted at that. “Thanks, but you're much cuter.” He wandered across the room to where the supermarket bags were. “Are you thirsty? Do you want water or a snack? ”
“Hmm, just water if that’s okay.”
Harry handed her the water bottle and sat down on the bed next to her while she drank from it. “You didn’t cum…” he pointed out after a moment of pause.
“Oh um… yeah. I didn’t. It’s okay though.” Y/N laughed, shrugged, and took another sip of her water.
“Hmm.” Harry hummed, before scooting a little closer to her. “It must be a bit of an unpleasant feeling, no? and hard to sleep like that.”
“It is a little until it goes away but nothing that I can't handle.”
“Hm.” He hummed again, before Y/N cocked her head to kiss his lips. She’d only meant to give him a peck, but Harry changed her plans when he leaned in to kiss her deeper. He seemed really eager to continue kissing and well, she wasn't about to say no to him. Especially when he went so far as to nibble on her lip, which he hadn’t done before. He was also getting handsy with her, and she loved it. He was touching her more and focusing on the spots he'd learned she liked.
“That,” She blurted, as she paused to catch her breath. “That feels really nice.”
“M-hm.” He murmured against her lips as he kissed her again. His hand continued to grab at her as they kissed, to the point where Y/N couldn’t take it anymore. She hadn’t meant to but ended up moving her knees apart out of desperation. Being so blatant almost made her feel ashamed, but she didn't because she felt Harry's palm wrap over her crotch. In response to his touch, she moaned into his mouth, and he moaned back, surprised at how her moisture had soaked through her panties. “Teach me.” He asked, softly. “I want to learn. I- um, want to make you go to sleep happy.”
“That’s so nice, Harry, really. I, um-” She smiled while wiping the tears forming in her eyes. “I’m already happy.” She didn’t know what was making her so overwhelmed with joy all of sudden. She’d always known Harry was boyfriend material, but it was still nice to see how much he gave thought to her needs and happiness. And she was happy. So, so happy to finally have him like this, all to herself. “Do you want me to show you how to touch?”
“Yes please. To make you feel good.��
“Okay.” She placed her hand on top of his. “Here,” she explained once she’d guided his fingers to the spot of her panties right above her clit. “Circular motions with your fingers feel really nice, so does pressure. You don't have to focus on just that spot though… the nicest feeling is when you rub there but also all over.” She glanced at him, then bit her lip and asked, “Wanna try?”
“Yeah, alright.” Harry responded, adjusting his position slightly so that Y/N could get more comfortable. They decided to have her sit between his legs, facing away from him since that would make it easier for her to lead him. Once they’d both settled, Harry began to touch her in the way she had showed him, moving his hand broadly enough to reach a little bit everywhere in between her legs. “Am I doing it right?”
“Mm-hmm, you're doing really good.” Y/N was still holding his hand while he touched her, and she was fascinated by the size difference between their hands. “Your hands are really big, which... makes it feel extra good.”
“Really? That’s nice. I'm definitely grateful for that.” He said while looking down as well. “Should I put more pressure, or is it okay as it is?”
“It’s fine but I wouldn’t mind a little more...” She could tell he was afraid of hurting her, and that’s why he was being so careful and gentle in his touching. She wasn’t planning on rushing him or constantly give him directions though, so instead she simply relaxed against his chest and let him probe at his own pace. Because, after all, even though he was playing safe, she was still thoroughly enjoying herself.
It took Harry a few minutes to figure out how much pressure and speed he should be using, but eventually he pressed and swirled his fingers around her sensitive nub in a way that felt just right. When Y/N’s breath faltered he glanced at her worriedly, what made her chuckle. “No, don't worry. You didn't hurt me.” She took advantage of his staring to steal a kiss from his lips. “Keep going like that.”
Harry smiled proudly at that. He’d had a feeling he was starting to get the hang of it due to the way Y/N’s breathing had become more erratic and she'd begun to quiver against him on occasion but hearing it from her mouth that he was doing a good job was much, much better. He was really looking forward to making her cum. She looked so pretty like this, flushed and a little out of breath. She'd been staring at his face a lot from over her shoulder in the last couple of minutes, biting her lip and letting out little hums of pleasure to let him know he was making her feel good.
“Like that. Don’t stop.” Those quiet, whispered words snapped him out of his reverie. He knew what they meant, even before she told him, “I’m really, really close.”
He'd learnt from a meme he saw once that when girls said that boys weren't meant to speed up or change what they were doing in the slightest, so he merely focused on adding a bit more pressure, since that was something he knew she liked, and trying to keep his hand's tempo.
Despite how hot he found it, Harry wasn't very comfortable with dirty talk, but seeing her like this and recalling the perfect, filthy words she'd said to him just before making him cum, he felt compelled to give it a shot. “I can feel how wet your panties are, it’s so hot.” He whispered into her hair. “I can smell it too and it makes me want to eat you out so bad. I've never done it before, but I can't stop thinking about doing it to you.” Rather than trying to sound hot, he was simply stating facts about how she was making him feel, and somehow it was working. “I wanna make you cum like this first though. From rubbing your little pussy this way, just like you taught me to.”
Harry's words, paired with the precise movements of his fingertips around her pussy got her right at the edge. She trembled, clutched his wrist, and strained to keep her legs open.
“Please, please, please...” She started begging out loud right before the warm pleasure bubble on her belly popped, so Harry did the same thing she’d done to him and muffled her by putting his hand over her mouth.
He hadn't anticipated being able to feel when a girl orgasmed, but he was. He could feel the strong pulse under his fingers as soon as Y/N started to cum, and it was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced. He could also feel the damp spot on her panties becoming even more drenched as he stroked her through it and God, the smell… it was making his mouth water.
If she didn’t look so exhausted, Harry would have begged her to let him take off her panties and lick her clean, but those puffy, glossy eyes didn't permit his mind to stray any further. If there was one thing Harry understood about Y/N, it was how she looked just before falling asleep, and that was exactly how she was getting.
So he helped her into bed and lay down beside her, but his heart wouldn't let him fall asleep before he asked, “You’re staying for the entire weekend, right?” and his ears picked up a faint “M-hm” in return.
A smile spread across Harry’s face as she pulled him in for a cuddle.
This was going to be the best weekend ever.
**
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spookypete-94 · 3 months
Text
Nightgown (Ghost x Fem!reader)
Been trying to find the urge to get back into the groove of wanting to write and had a short mind blurb I wanted to work on.
SFW, implied smut
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"Ah c'mon lass, one pint canna' hurt," Soap tried hard to barter to get you to join them at a local bar near the hotel the TF141 and yourself was staying at.
You had assisted them with a mission working for Laswell, and honestly was exhausted after spending almost a month with them. Being shot at day in and day out seemed to make one constantly feel that way. Now, finally, you were in a safe space with no threats? You were going to take full advantage of it and relax.
"Nah, think I'm going to go up to my room and put a nightgown on and get into bed," you sighed back to him.
"A nightgown huh?" he teased, elbowing you in the side.
Instantly, your brain understood where his just went and felt awkward and flushed.
"None of that now," you said shutting him down ,"its a straight up old mumu."
Soap is silent for a minute. "A mumu?" his tone showing the confusion you had just impaled upon him, not familiar with the term.
"Google it, I'm not explaining it to you," you said reslinging your TAC bag with your items over your shoulder again. "You lot have a good night, be safe and be careful." and waved over your shoulder leaving the four of them standing in the hotel lobby. Gaz lightly shoving Soap's shoulder for picking on you.
Entering the hotel room, finally decompressing, and showering you pulled your nightgown out of the bag.
It was most definitely NOT a mumu. Your brain had come up with the worst nightgown image you could to cut the banter from Soap. The nightgown you had was black lace, see through, and short. Being around testosterone, bullets and sweat- it was nice to feel feminine once in awhile. This was a treat to yourself for a job well done. No one injured or lost on this mission.
But upon doing so, there was a knock on your door. Hesitantly, you peeked through the peep hole worried who could be at your door. A pair of warm brown eyes stared back through the small hole and into the depth's of your own.
Instantly you knew who they belonged to, that of the large brooding man clad in black at all times known as Ghost- or better yet to you Simon.
In the time you both had spent with the 141, you and Ghost had grown the closest. Taking the time to get to know each other in the down time of being deployed had started something to bloom for him.
"Simon?" Opening the door only slightly so your head could peak around at him. "Thought you were going to the bar?"
"Thought you were wearin' an ugly nightgown?" He instantly rebutaled making your face heat. He had called your bluff, how had he known?
"Can tell when your bullshittin'," his tone matter of fact as he gently pushed the door open making you let him into your room. The large figure of the man looming over you, his eyes wandering your body in the black lace as it clung to you.
"Needed to see for myself," large hands on your waist and backing you up to the bed, lightly pushing you down once the mattress hit the back of your knees. "And I'm not disappointed."
Oh, how small you are under his large frame.
Simon Ghost Riley Masterlist
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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year
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I love you, always.
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Eddie Munson x fem!reader
Fooled round and fell in love blurb
series masterlist
summary: You and Eddie get married on Valentine’s Day, amongst your friends and family. Someone calls to congratulate you, but eddie has another idea in mind.
⚠️warnings: SMUT 18+MDNI, time jump from the original series, mentions of sex, unprotected p in v, getting fucked while on the phone, slight breeding kink, slight daddy kink, cream pie, jealous Eddie, fluff fluff fluff, marriage stuff, Eddie being a devious little shit.
a/n: idea from @a-taurus , thank you babe!
Wanted to update this series and give my bbs their happily ever after, I’m gonna miss them. 🥹
Eddie photo edit: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple
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You’re about to marry your best friend. You couldn’t believe how far you and Eddie had come. From that incident with Randy, to him finally asking you to be his girl. All of that seemed so long ago, but also, like it was just yesterday. You and Eddie just made three years, he’d purposed on your anniversary and you knew you wanted a Valentine’s Day wedding. you’ve imagined yourself marrying the very man, you are about to on that day. Since, you started writing I heart Eddie Munson, in your notebooks in high school. You just can’t fathom that you are really getting your happily ever after, with the man who swore he’d rather die than get married, but that was when you were kids. He’s done nothing but make you feel loved and adored since.
The weddings small, filled with your closest friends and loved ones. You and Eddie decided on a beautiful garden venue just outside of Indianapolis. You got lucky, the weather was nice and sunny, even in mid February.
You wore a beautiful; white silk dress, that went down to your ankles, while Eddie wore a black on black tux, still decorated with his usual accessories. Everything was perfect. Wayne walked you down the aisle while Eddie sobbed, along with your mom and Robin; she was one of your bridesmaids, of course. Steve on the other side as one of Eddie’s groomsmen, was tearing up a little too.
You were having your very own fairytale moment, in a beautiful garden, marrying the man of your dreams.
Once the wedding was over, you all danced and partied until Eddie and his groomsmen were plastered. After, you both took a cab back to your hotel, you had a flight in the morning to key west, Florida for your honeymoon.
You were grateful to the gods, that you were both up and packed on time. Your honeymoon was everything and more. You and Eddie had amazing sex every night, and even better conversations and laughs. You walked on the beach, got messages and even got him to get a mani and pedi with you. Had amazing dinners at fancy restaurants and enjoyed the night life at some of the clubs around your hotel.
After a week of being in paradise, you were back in Hawkins, moving into your new trailer you and Eddie saved up for. It was a spacious two bedroom, double wide. Nothing fancy, It wasn’t your forever home though. You had plans of renovating, staying in it for a couple years and then selling it, to buy your forever home. You and Eddie had lots of late night talks about it, maybe even, have a kid or two.
Once finally moved in, it felt like old times— movie nights and sleepovers, like you use to have back in high school. But, this time you both were unable to keep your hands to yourselves, being able to kiss on him and touch him ways you wanted to at that time, made you feel like a giddy child. The butterflies never stopped, they probably never would. You got them just by being looked at by him. The way he’d whisper in your ear about something mundane like a part in said movie you were watching, the way he’d rub your thigh, gradually getting closer to your throbbing center, the way he’d play with your hair, after he’d jokingly do the little yawn and stretch move, still making you giggle no matter how many times he’s overused it, but that was the point. He’d do anything to make you giggle, like that.
After months of being married and officially moved in together. You were sitting on your queen sized bed, covered in silky maroon sheets while painting your nails a baby pink. Eddie walks into the room and sits behind you, while rubbing your shoulders and kissing the exposed skin underneath your tank top.
“Ed’s, stay still! I’m painting my nails!” You playfully screech
“Im sorry baby, here let me blow them for you,” he says while taking your left hand in his, and bringing it up to his mouth to softly blow, as he continued to dry your nails, his thumb rubs over your ring finger, playing with the wedding ring he had your mom and Robin help him pick out. He knew exactly what you would like, but he wanted the two people that knew you as well as he did, there. Once he was done with your left hand, he plants a sweet kiss on your knuckles.
The way he continued to make you swoon, with just the little things he did was absolutely hypnotic. He moved on to your right hand and began his ministrations, once he finished up and gave your right hand a kiss to match the left, the phone rang.
“I’ll get it.” Eddie whispers into your ear, sending a cool chill down your spine, and causing your skin to goosebump.
You can hear him answer the phone in the kitchen and begin walking back into your shared bedroom. You received the cordless home phone as a wedding gift from the Harringtons, you and Eddie were rather excited to use that on nights he was away on his mini Midwest tours with corroded coffin.
“Hey um, baby, it’s for you.” He says with his hand on the speaker, as he passes it to you.
Eddie hovered over you with a clenched jaw, and his hands balled up by his sides.
“Hello?” You say hesitantly, as you read Eddie’s face.
“Y/n?” The familiar voice on the other side, says.
You lift the phone from your ear and looked at it in confusion.
“Um, yes. Who is this?” You asked, with furrowed eyebrows.
“It’s Randy.” Your breath hitched, as he said his name.
“Oh, um hi?” You’re even more confused now.
Eddie continues watching you, as he rolls his eyes, hearing Randy’s faint voice.
Then Eddies face turns devilish, as if he’s gotten an idea. That’s never a good thing. That face got you both into trouble, more often than not.
“Hey, I’m sorry, I know this is weird. Me calling you and all,” yeah, tell me about it— you think to yourself.
As Randy continues talking, Eddie’s hand begins rubbing up your thigh, making a surprised whimper release from your parted lips.
“Shh,” He says as his finger goes up to his lip. When he puts it down, the devilish smile reappears.
“So, I was just calling because I heard about the wedding, uh, you and Eddie’s. Congratulations.” Randy says, as Eddie’s hand slips into your black sleep shorts, making another gasp leave you.
“You okay?” Randy asks.
“Mmhm, yeah I’m fine.” You answer back, as you glare at Eddie. Making him huff out a laugh, that he tries to conceal with his hand.
“So, umm. Randy. How did you get this number?” You’re still glaring at Eddie, as he stands up and begins unbuckling his belt. You can’t help but to smile and roll your eyes at your husbands, dirty idea.
“Oh uh, Well, I ran into Dennis at the grocery store, the other day.”
“Dennis? I don’t know a Dennis.” You giggle
“Kid with the curly hair? Um, he’s friends with Eddie.” You know exactly who he’s talking about now, which makes you laugh even harder, well that and Eddie pulling your hips to the edge of the bed, and discarding your shorts and panties.
“Oh, you mean Dustin?” Eddie can’t help but laugh to himself at that, as he takes his cock in his hand and slaps it against your wet center.
“Dustin! Yeah, yeah him! I kind of had to beg.” He began laughing at himself now.
“I’m surprised he gave it you.” You’re trying your hardest to keep your voice normal and steady as Eddie’s cock begins to breech your entrance.
“Well, I promised him it wasn’t in an attempt to take you from Eddie. Just heard the news from Rick about you getting married, and I wanted to just say congratulations…” he continues
“And that I’m sorry,” you start to feel kind of bad, at the fact that Eddie is trying to fuck you, while on the phone with someone who’s making an attempt to apologize. But, Eddie has a way to himself, something about him always makes you want to please him, go along with what he says. You suppose it’s due to love or your never ending infatuation with your husband.
“Sorry? Um s-sorry for what?” You can’t even remember what you were talking about, while Eddie is now completely bottomed out inside you.
“For sending Becky to Eddie’s place, for showing up to your house waisted, trying to fight Eddie. I don’t know, everything. I didn’t want it to end that way, ya know?” He says as Eddie’s slowing pulling out and sinking back into you.
You pull the phone away from your ear. Copying Eddie’s earlier actions of covering the speaker with your hand, as you begin talking to Eddie, while he fucks you.
“Baby, if you go any harder I’m not gonna be able to talk, just please let me get off the phone.” That makes him speed up a little, as a cocky smirk takes over his face.
“Go ahead and talk, sweet thing.”
You roll your eyes as you put the phone back up to your ear.
“Hello?” You hear, forgetting about the guy on the other end. Eddie snaps his hips a little harder, now discarding his slayer band tee and tossing it on to the bed, beside you.
“Y-yeah, I’m here. Sorry.” You stutter out, “well, thank you for that, I-I oh! Appreciate it.” Fuck, you almost got through that whole sentence without giving yourself away. But if Randy caught onto what was going down, he didn’t let it be know, as he continued to talk.
“So, how are you?” He asked.
You put your hand over your mouth, as your eyes start rolling back.
“He asked you a question, baby. Answer him.” Eddie whispers into your free ear, with the same cocky smirk.
God, a part of you wanted to punch him, but another part of you wanted to hang up on Randy and beg Eddie to keep fucking you just like that.
“I’m, I’m good, I’m really really good.” You say, with the last “good” coming out as a moan. Eddie laughs into your neck as he continues fucking you, hard and deep.
“How, um. How are you?” It’s only right, to be polite and ask someone back. Even though you wanted nothing more than to end the call, as quick as possible.
“I’m good, ya know. As good as I can be—” He laughs, but something about it makes you feel sorry for him. You’re an empath after all.
“I’m uh, happy for you both. You might think I’m bullshitting, but I’m glad Eddie was able to stop being a slut and settle down with you. I mean, it makes sense he did it for you. I cant think of another girl more deserving of that.” He rambles
You didn’t really know how to take that, whatever it was. I mean, it sounded like it was coming from a good place but also definitely like he was still bitter about it.
“Well, thank you Randy. I appreciate this phone call.” You said, as Eddie halted his movements after hearing what Randy said. He wanted to snatch the phone from you and tell him to fuck off! But he didn’t.
“Yeah, just thought I owed that to you. Um, you take care, okay?” He says, voice sounding a little shaky.
“Yeah, you too.” You say back, Eddie’s movements starting up again, as he realizes you’re about to end the call.
You hang up, placing the phone on the bed, beside you.
“Eddie! God, that was so embarrassing. I could barely focus on anything he was saying,” you say as you shove his chest, playfully.
“That was the point, my love,” he chuckles while sucking at the sweet spot on your neck.
“Mmm, fuck me harder now, please?” You say as you grab a handful of his hair gently, bringing his lips to yours.
“Yeah? Feel good baby?” He asks, breaking the deep kiss.
“Feels so fucking good, daddy.” You whine
“Such a dirty fucking mouth. Mmm, should I cum in that dirty little mouth? Huh?” He grabs your cheeks and squeezes them, until your mouth is wide open.
“Or do you want my cum, in this tight. fucking. pussy?” He says between hard thrusts.
“Maybe get you pregnant? You want that sweet girl? Wanna have my babies? Fuck, you’d look so sexy, with daddy’s baby inside you, all big and plump.”
“Mmm, fuck I-I want you to cum inside me, please?” You’re so close to cumming, your pussy is squeezing Eddie’s cock like a vice.
“Oh my god!” He shouts as he picks up your legs by the backs of your knees and spreads you out even wider, hitting your spot relentlessly.
“Eddie, I’m gonna cum. Fuck! Please, don’t stop!” The way your eyes won’t stop rolling in the back of your head, is definitely making you look possessed, but it feels way too good to care.
“Fuck yes, cum for me baby. Cum on daddy’s cock.” He’s so close, but he’s trying to wait for you.
“You’re not on the pill right now. Are you sure you want this, princess?” He asks, as he continues his hard thrusts.
“Yes, yes I want it so bad, please?” You’re so close to the edge, but Eddie brings his thumb between your bodies and begins rubbing at your clit, slow but heavy circles. That takes you over the edge, as you moan out while your toes curl.
Every orgasm Eddie has given you seemed to always be better than the last. It was his favorite thing to do, after all.
“I’m cumming baby. Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up!” He says as he pumps warm ropes of cum, deep inside you.
After you both catch you breath, you lay there wrapped in each others embrace. While, Eddie pushes your hair away from your face, giving you kisses all over your cheeks, lips and forehead.
You giggle, as you run your nails down his back, gently rubbing up and down.
“I love you so much, Ed’s.” You whisper to him.
“I love you, always.” He whispers back.
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Thank you for reading ❣️
Comments and reblogs are appreciated
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hi, covey can you pls write a platonic nico x daughter of persephone where the daughter of persephone makes nico, hades, and persephone go see hadestown on broadway with her (also if u haven’t heard hadestown highly recommend amazing musical)
wait for me? / i will; platonic! nico di angelo x daughter of persephone! reader blurb
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content: platonic! nico di angelo x daughter of persephone! reader blurb (ft. mom and dad - er, persephone and hades) warning: language but we keep it silly up in this bitch author's note: i dunno if i can even call this a blurb anymore- holy shit its so fucking long but i dont wanna call if a fic bc that feels like favoritism lmao also i haven't listened to the whole play bc i haven't been a theatre kid in many many years and im trying to leave that behind me as i go to college but i do remember absolutely loving the concept and a few of the songs!!
"everyone say 'hi' to the vlog!!" you cheered as you walked in front of you family, spinning the camera around to get you all in view. upon your parents request (demand), you all were dressed in your sunday best. suits, or the closest to a suit nico was willing to put on, midi-length dresses for the girls. all designer, as hades wouldn't be caught dead not in designer. zeus would mock him for eons. nico threw up a middle finger that persephone was slapping away, before turning the camera with a sugary sweet smile.
"hi vlog!" she cheered, wrinkling her nose, attempting to be suave and hip, but not really getting close as nico and you cringed slightly.
"hello vlog," hades added, which had you and nico wheezing and hades desperately asking his wife what was wrong with what he said.
"youre- youre so cordial," you managed to get through you giggles, pointing the camera at hades, who puffed his chest out with a roll of his eyes.
"that would be because i'm old, my sweet girl," he huffed and you beamed a smile at him, spinning the camera onto yourself as the four of you continued down the streets of new york city.
"he's not that old," you smirked, nico snorting next to you.
"anyways, we're off to see hadestown. mom and dad haven't seen it yet and have no idea what it's about. but will took you last week, right, nico?" you asked, leaning into nico's side so he'd be in view. he nodded his head, darting his eyes away at the mention of his boyfriend.
"yup."
"awww! he's getting all blushy!! im gonna tell will-"
"go to hell, y/n-"
"been there, done that. boring!"
"hey, watch it!" hades cut in, with a glare, which you responded wit ha roll of your eyes.
"stop distracting me, im trying to vlog," you huffed, turning your eyes back to the camera with a wide smile, "obvi i can't film inside, but i will take a pic and tally every time one of us cries and whoever cries the most picks what we have for dinner."
"wait, wait. my blossom, you didn't mention this one was sad?" hades hissed to his wife, who shrugged in uncertainty but patted his forearm comfortingly. you and nico shared a knowing glance, tiny smirks playing on your lips.
"okay, okay," you whispered to your camera, bending over in your seat to hide it from the watchful eyes of security despite the fact that it was intermission, "we've hit intermission and i've only cried, like, twice. nico, the rat bastard, managed to stay strong so far. mom's cried, what, four times?"
"nah, closer to five. remember? right at the beginning?" nico whispered and you nodded in agreement before turning to the camera, laughing as you struggled to get your words out.
"but dad, gods bless his heart, he's probably cried twice for every song-"
"no, no, he cried, like, four times, during 'come home with me'," corrected nico and you discreetly tried to hide your giggles with nico, the two of you leaning into each other before persephone reached over, smacking at their arms.
"knock it off. your father is a very sensitive man and you didn't warn him this play was about us. and so sweetly written too," persephone mused to the pair, sniffing near the end, causing you and nico to point over at her.
"that's another one! you're up to five, mom!" bit back nico, clearly proud of himself as persephone glared at the pair, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
"it's not like it matters much, your father will certainly lose- oh, welcome back, my darling, just in time," the queen of the underworld quickly changed her tune, beaming a smile as her husband returned with drinks and snacks.
he glanced at her suspiciously but let it go as he gently presented her with some fruity cocktail he knew she'd like without needing to ask. a blush flushed across her cheeks and hades was clearly proud of himself as he continued to pass out snacks. junior mints and licorice for nico, who took it with one hand while texting will with the other. you bit your lip, trying to zoom in with the camera and see what he was saying but nico caught on quick, shoving the camera away with a huff. then hades set bag of m&m's down in your lap before ripping open his own bag. instantly, you were leaning over to his seat and inspecting his bag, nawing gently at your lip as hades glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.
"yes, princess?" he asked and you shyly smiled at him.
"could i have some?" you asked and hades frowned, looking pointedly down at the ones that rested, untouched, in your lap.
"you have some."
"they're better from your bag," you gushed and hades melted instantly, pretending to grumble as he presented the bag to you, small cheers escaping your lips as you dug your fingers in. and hades smiled despite himself, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before reaching over and ruffling nico's hair just as the play was about to continue.
the vlog abruptly jumped to a shot of your little family standing outside the theatre in visible distress. nico had his head hung back, waving at his face, trying to avoid tears that he knew will would mock him for. persephone and you were actively clinging to each other, fully sobbing in the middle of new york, mutters and gasps about being doomed by the narrative and love somewhere among the sobs. hades was in shock, tears streaming down his face, and his hands clasped in front of his lips. how he managed to get shocked by a play he lived through, he had no idea. you detangled yourself from your mother, who instantly went to her husband, who welcomed her into his arms without a second thought. you picked up your camera, sniffling as you attempted a smile while holding a thumbs up but the happy effect was lost with the black mascara running down your cheeks.
1.2 k comments:
@/will.solace: awww he blushes when you mention my name ��
@/underworlds-favs: die and see if i blush then
@/underworlds-favs: do not use our shared account for your lovers quarrel - y/n
@/underworlds-favs: die and it won’t be a shared account anymore
@/user.1: why your mom kinda...😏🤭🤤😮‍💨
@/underworlds-favs: STOP THIRSTING FOR OUR PARENTS YALL ARE WEIRD KNOCK IT OFF
@/user.2: wait, wait- i need to know who lost and i want, like, full receipts of how many times you guys cried
@/underworlds-favs: in order from least to most: nico - 2, the perfect and stunning y/n - 6, mom - 7, and our emotional king, dad, cried a whopping 36 times 🤩🤩
@/underworlds-favs: do not use out shared account to spread your propaganda - nico
@/user.2: AINT NO WAY- 36 TIMES?????
@/underworlds-favs: i wish i was joking. we had some really good italian that night tho 🤘😋
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httpiastri · 3 months
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okay so i started writing on a boyfriend!paul blurb for after the race today, but then i deleted it and wrote this instead: a short snippet of a future chapter of the "the way i loved you" fic 😋 pretty short but it's all i can produce rn lol. will likely have some changes when i post the actual chapter. aiming to post the first things from the fic soon !!! hope u enjoy 😚
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series masterlist
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paul is beaming when you see him stroll back to the paddock after his media duties. his cap is perched on top of his head – the right cap, finally – and his fingers are still tightly wrapped around the neck of his champagne bottle. when he notices you leaning against the doorframe leading into the f2 hospitality, his smile grows even bigger.
you meet him halfway, arms wrapping around his shoulders easily, just like they have so many times before. one of his arms drapes around your waist and he holds you close, a hum vibrating from his chest. "congrats, paul," you tell him. "that was amazing. you were amazing."
"thank you," he says before pausing. then, he lets out a chuckle. "to be honest, i wasn't sure if you would care."
you frown at him when you pull slightly away from him, just enough to look into his eyes. is that what he really thought? that you wouldn't care about his driving? "oh, please. you still mean a lot to me, okay?" your hand moves down to his upper arm, giving it a soft squeeze. "i still consider you to be one of my closest friends."
friends. the word stings like a knife in his heart. it's been months since you broke up, and yet, it still feels like a raw wound.
paul forces a smile. he understands that despite how painful it is, there's something good in it. there's still a place for him in your heart, even if he's forced to share it with someone else.
he pulls you in again, and the hug is even tighter now than before. it's a comforting feeling; you're both at peace, with a good weekend behind you, in the arms of someone so close to you. after everything you've gone through together, but especially everything he has gone through these last few months with the mercedes academy and so on, you're finally through to the other side. "it all worked out in the end, huh?" you ask after a few moments of silence.
"i guess it did." you part from each other to leave that oh-so-familiar gap between you yet again. "will you be celebrating with us tonight? i think pepe had something planned. you know how he is."
you snort. "yeah, i do know. maybe i will." you shift uncomfortably, crossing your arms over your chest as your eyes dart to the ground. "but, um... i'll have to check with..."
you don't even say his name – you don't have to. ollie didn't just have a bad race today; the entire weekend has been so far from everyone's expectations. and if you know him correctly, he will not be in the mood for celebrations tonight.
paul just nods slowly, pressing his lips into a thin line. "right."
the silence that follows is so awkward you can't help but chew on your bottom lip, a tiny sigh escaping through your mouth. he must be hating this, you think – today is supposed to be only a good day for him, he shouldn't have his ex's new relationship pushed up in his face.
"well, i have a debrief to get to," you make up, flashing him a quick smile. "congrats again, paul."
"thank you." he gives you another nod, before turning away and making his way towards the paddock. "pepe will text you!"
and just like that, he's off, and your mind wanders to the thought of actually going out to celebrate. ollie will definitely not join you, though you're not sure why you don't want to go without him. is it because you'd rather stay and comfort him?
or is it because you're scared of what you'll do, or feel, when you're alone with paul for the first time since you broke up?
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translatemunson · 17 days
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you've been calling my bluff on all my usual tricks • ttfd
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a blurb from the universe of the tortured firefighters department
| check the masterlist |
cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), some divergency from canon (it’s fanfic guys, so chill), proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)
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For the first time in fifteen minutes, you could finally reach for your coffee mug.
“Dispatch, this is 118 requesting more RAs for the scene,” and there it goes nothing. It was Evan Buckley on the other side of the comms. What happened with Chim or Hen asking for backup?
“Copy, 118. Units 126 and 163 are closer to the storage,” you replied, already jumping on channels to send the ambulances their way. “Will more units be necessary?”
“I believe those will be enough, Brains.” The nickname drop. Yeah, no way you were escaping that. “It’s nice to finally hear you on a call.”
“Can’t say the same, firefighter Buckley. Mind you, we are being recorded,” you brought your mug to your mouth, the steam long gone after a late night fire emergency on a delivery storage.
“Oh, don’t be a nerd now. Everyone is safe, I bet you can chat for a few minutes.”
“Should I remind you we both are paid to save lives, and not chit chat while the 9-1-1 line is packed?”
“Oh, is it? Then why are you still on this channel?”
Ok, he got you, he got you good. Back to drinking and finding some peace to face eight more hours on your shift.
“Still there, Brains?” You could definitely hear his smirk through the call.
“Mm-mmm,” you made a funny face for the cold coffee. “Just taking a break.”
“Right. Graveyard shift again?”
“Always, because it’s from my desk straight to class tomorrow morning.” You started typing again, checking all the information from the rescue. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
“No, not exactly. Already packed the equipment and now I'm just waiting for the guys. Is Maddie working tonight?”
“No, she only takes the graveyard shift when Chim is off duty. But you should know that. Cut the small talk and go piss Eddie off, Buckley.”
“Only if you give me your number.”
And he goes for it, for the hundredth time that week.
“So you can piss me off on and off duty? I’ll pass,” your screen lit up with updates from the incident. “Guess I’m closing this channel now.”
“See you soon, Brains.”
“Don’t wait up, Buckley.”
You disconnected from the channel once you had confirmation both RAs were on scene and now it was only a matter of taking the patients to the closest hospital — information you already cleared with the drivers, and gave that usual Brains heads up to the hospital teams — and getting them patched up.
Graveyard shifts, most of the time, were easy to sail through. Another few more hours, instructions you had memorized in the back of your mind, weak coffee someone brewed because you were out of decaf, class notes to review and you would call it a night — or maybe a day, you were never sure.
The only thing different this time around was the fact that you had Buckley on the other side of the line. And when you checked your phone, closer to 2 AM, there was a message, from an unknown number, saying “Eddie told me to piss you off because he wants to sleep :)”. Also “It’s Buck.”
Of course you knew it already.
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author's note: hi, hello! i know i promised this blurb to come out yesterday, but got caught up with work stuff… BUT IT’S HERE NOW. it doesn’t spoil anything from the main timeline of the fic, it was more of a “i need to write something” moment and this is the result. don’t forget to check out the fic! see ya soon!!
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writeroutoftime · 11 months
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i can’t get the idea of carmy x butcher reader out of my mind for some reason
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words: 0.7k
warnings: none, I mean carmy's a bit of jerk for a minute, but what's new lol
a/n: honestly, I love this idea, anon so here's a little blurb! not sure if I went in the direction you were anticipating, but I really enjoyed writing this! (also, this is my first time writing for carmy so please forgive me while I'm learning his character!)
p.s. I would totally be opening to write more little blurbs for this specific pairing if anyone is interested!
oOoOo
It took four blocks to walk from The Beef to the butcher Mikey had used for the past few years. Six blocks for Carmen's fists to repeatedly clench and unclench and for his jaw to tightened as he stormed down the street, not caring who got in his way.
When he reached the butchers, Carmen threw the door open. The bell attached nearly flew off in protest, immediately catching your attention.
"How can I help?" you asked, dusting off your hands to give your newest customer your full attention. Though, by his heavy breaths, you mentally prepared yourself for the difficult conversation you expected to follow.
"You can start by getting your fucking orders right for delivery. This is the second time in a month that your shop dropped the ball and it's impacting my kitchen." he all but shouted, jabbing an accusatory finger in your direction.
Your hands gripped the counter, subtly, as you forced yourself to take a deep breath. It was early in the morning. You weren't exactly keen to start your day by dealing with angry customers - even if his intense, blue eyes were rather attractive.
"Okay," you spoke slowly. "What's the name on the order? We can figure this out."
Unfortunately, this did little to placate the seething man. "The name is Berzatto for The Beef. And I don't want to work anything out, I just want you to deliver the orders you're fucking supposed to. We need twenty pounds of meat, and you only delivered two. What good does two pounds do me?"
By that point, your own jaw clicked as you turned to look through your files. You recognized the name Berzatto and deep down you knew the delivery was correct on your end. After years of shadowing your family before taking over, you knew how to run this business.
Rather aggressively, you pulled out the order sheet and slammed it down on the counter in front of Berzatto. He snatched the sheet, eyes quickly scanning the text. You saw the moment his face fell, and couldn't help but feel rather smug.
"Do you wanna walk outside, come back in, and try again?" you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, eyes narrowed.
A few moments of silence and Berzatto finally looked back up at you, his chest heaving as he came down from his rush of adrenaline. "I," he began, then quickly shut his mouth, and turned from the counter running his hand down his face in frustration.
"Okay, how can I order the rest of the meat to be delivered, ASAP?" he asked suddenly, turning around and running a hand through his already mussed hair only to end up on the back of his neck as he looked at you.
It wasn't an apology, but his tone was noticeably calmer. You figured that would be the closest you'd get for a while. One glance at him and you could tell he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. The name Berzatto rung a bell in your mind, and you remembered hearing there was a new owner after the previous one passed away.
With a soft sigh, you grabbed a pen and pad of paper and began to write down his order. "What's the name for the order?"
"Uh, Carm-Carmen Berzatto." he stuttered out, taken aback by your suddenly soft demeanor.
"Alright, Carmen. Here's what we're going to do. I can get you the rest of your order by this evening, and payment can be due at the end of this month. That sound okay to you?" you questioned, holding out the order slip.
Carmen reached out to grab the paper, slightly brushing his fingers against yours. Both of you pulled back quickly ignoring any sort of spark you might have felt.
He looked down at the slip, back up to you, and nodded in agreement. With a tightlipped smile, Carmen nodded his thanks and moved to leave your shop and head back to the Beef.
"And Berzatto?" you called out, quietly laughing at the way he stumbled over his feet in the doorway to turn back. "Next time try the civil approach first." you teased, leaving Carmen a blushing mess.
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heavyhitterheaux · 5 months
Text
Stanley or Bust
First Lady of Private Garden Blurb
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AN: Stanley cups in the nursing world is a VERY big deal lol I saw where Latto got one so I had to write something about it lol
Synopsis: You ask Jack to add to your collection of Stanley cups for Valentine's Day
Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader
Requested by: @a-moment-captured 😘💕
Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere
Since you had gotten pregnant with your twins, your latest obsession had been Stanley cups and you were excited because Target was releasing a pink and white one along with a red one for Valentine's day at the location closest to you.
The doors would open at six in the morning on February 13th and you had a feeling that Jack was not going to allow you to stand in line and wait for the store to open and would have a fit if he found out you went and did it anyway after he told you no.
So, instead you were going to go ask him to get it for you. 
You hadn’t been able to sleep and made your way downstairs at around four in the morning and decided to start thinking about what you were going to cook for the day when you got the bright idea of organizing your Stanley cups that were placed in the cabinet.
Trying to reach the top shelf while standing on your toes, you felt Jack reach from behind you and get your pink and gray one down for you as he kissed the top of your head.
“My very pregnant wife is supposed to be sleeping. So what are you doing up?” He asked as you filled your cup with ice water knowing that you were going to end up peeing every five minutes.
“I was restless so I decided to get up.” You responded while shrugging before taking a sip of your water.
“Anything I can do to help make this last month and a half of you being pregnant more bearable?”
“Yes, actually now that you mention it.”
“Name it, baby.”
“Can you buy me another Stanley cup?” You asked as you batted your eyelashes at him and all he did was look at you.
“Baby girl, no. You have seven. You can only drink out of one at a time so I don't get the obsession.”
“But there's an exclusive one being released for Valentine's day at Target! The doors open at 6 am and I know if I stood in line you were going to yell at me.”
“You damn right because you have no business being on your feet for long periods of time anyway!”
“So, you’ll go and get it for me?” You excitedly asked while Jack was looking at you as if you had lost your mind.
“I am not standing in the damn cold at 6am for a cup!”
“But it's not just any cup! It's a STANLEY.”
“Baby, absolutely NOT. You have enough cups.”
“But I need the pink and white one with hearts!” You responded as you crossed your arms and began to pout.
All Jack did was sigh as he saw the pout on your face, but he wasn't budging.
“No. Final answer.”
It was February 14th and you woke up to your room being filled with pink and red balloons as you smiled to yourself thinking that Jack probably didn't get any sleep in order to do this for you.
Just then he came into the room with a gift bag in his hands and you immediately stretched your arms out wanting a hug from him.
“Happy Valentine's Day my sweet baby girl.” He said before giving you several kisses as he eagerly hugged you back.
“Happy Valentine's Day, smush. What's in the bag?”
“There's more gifts throughout the day, but this is the first one.” He handed it to you and you reached your hand in to pull out the two exclusive Stanley cups. You had only told him you wanted the pink and white one but he got you the red one too.
You instantly squealed and grabbed him to pull him into a hug and kiss him all over his face.
“BABY! Thank you, thank you!”
“My dick froze waiting in line to get them for you and I still don't think I can feel my fingers. I don't even know if my balls are attached to my body anymore.” All you did was roll your eyes over how dramatic he was being.
“Don't worry, your wife has plenty of time to warm you right back up.” You said while leaning over to kiss him.
“You better because I got the last ones.”
Jack just wasn't going to mention the 100 dollar bill he slipped to one of the Target employees to make sure that he got two for his wife.
And also wasn't going to mention that he only stood outside for ten minutes. 
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@a-moment-captured
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