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pedge-page · 2 months

Note

What about Joel having to spend a night away for work last minute and reader sulking about it when he gets home and blanking him? 🤣 Cue grovelling from Joel lol

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: Late From Work

Notes: I must be too yeehaw American because I had to look up what "blanking" someone meant 😂. Anyway, I had so much fun writing this! Decided to make him late rather than spending a whole night away because lets be real, she'd be serving divorce papers for that.

Warnings: brief oral (f receiving) scene; jealous!Reader, Stubborn reader is BACK

18+ ONLY:

- - - -

He knows he fucked up too. Big time.

When he said he’d be home at the latest by 7:00pm and it’s now 7:02 and he’s just getting in the truck leaving the site. And when his call goes to voicemail for the 3rd time, and then the fourth time tells him that the number is no longer valid (he’s been blocked), he knows he’s in Big-Fucking-Trouble.

Doesn’t want to call Tommy up for help to coax partially because he wants to fix this own his own, and partially to save Tommy from your wrath you most certainly will take out on him rather than your absent husband.

He grabbed a bouquet of flowers at the grocery store (he’s already in the doghouse so what’s another 5 minutes added to his sentence) and is currently speeding home, a solid 15mph over the limit. Tonight isn’t even anything special: you had both just come back from a lovely weekend trip on the coast and were just settling back in to your house. But when Joel doesn’t deliver on his word, isn’t home for pizza and Pepsi, and sitting behind you while rubbings your back and belly for a quiet movie night…

Well, he’s never been late since the start of your pregnancy. Doesn’t want to think what hellfire you’re going to spit at him the moment he walks in that door.

So here he is about to walk in that door. He takes a big breath, not feeling this anxious since the he proposed to you, and steps in.

He immediately makes contact with you: standing at the end of the hall, illuminated by the kitchen light with your extra extra large T shirt stretched over your belly and dangling loosely around your thighs, hands by your side, barefoot, despite how often he nags at you to wear socks around the house so your feet don’t get cold. He’s thankful to see you hadn’t packed a suitcase, trying to leave the house with a “my husband doesn’t love me” stunt again.

You clearly had just been walking past when you heard the door, not even fully turning to him but just having your head directed to the entrance the second he walked in. You briefly note the flowers in his hands before your eyes quickly go back to his. He feints an apologetic smile, heart beating so hard. You’re soooo quiet. The calm before the storm.

He gulps hard.

Instead, you turn forward once more and continue walking towards the living room without a word.

You have a hand on your back as you gently collapse onto the couch.

“Baby,” he says meekly, voice all tiny yet determined.

You pull your legs up over a pillow and fold open your book.

He comes to kneel beside you, immediately kissing your shoulder.

You do nothing.

“Baby,” he says more clearly. “I’m sorry, honey. I couldn’t beat the time.”

You flip a page, tilting your head to read the fascinating text on the page rather than listen to your poor husband on his knees for you.

His fights with the sleeve of your shirt. Would you at least look at him? He’s holding the flowers still in his hand, big puppy dog eyes trying their best to plea with you, and with his irresistible pouty lips that get him just about anything he wanted from you. But you only lend him a sigh, flipping yet another page.

So it’s gonna be like that.

"Please, angel. I was tryin' so hard to leave on time like I said. They got the concrete all mixed up and it needed to be set today, was tryin' to get out of there, just couldn't get it moving fast enough, I'm sorry baby I really sped over here fast I can to see ya, couldn't wait a second longer—"

“Oh!” You gasp suddenly.

He’s started, but nonetheless quick to be by you.

You check the clock on the wall and laugh. Time had gotten away from you too. You slam your book and hoist yourself up, on the other end of the couch to avoid his anxious hands fluttering to your aid. You brush past him and start your climb up the stairs.

Joel is right behind you, a bit of hope stirring in him. Its not until you’re walking through your bedroom door—and slamming it right in his face that he gets the message loud and clear.

Perhaps he earned a night on the couch to pray your forgiveness. After finding a suitable vase for the roses, he puffs up his pillow, his back killing him (though he’d never say it aloud while you’re waddling around with a whole 'nother being in your belly for the last few months) and crashes down on the sofa.

He just makes out the light go off under the door in the bedroom before he too is closing his eyes.

Tomorrow brings a new day, and he’s gonna spend every second satisfying his wife. He’s deserves his stay on the couch tonight.

He did NOT deserve this bullshit.

It’s been 3 fucking days since he came home late.

3 days of waking up early, trying to kiss his beautiful wife and baby momma with sweet affirmations and praises, which you dodge and continue about your stubborn ignoring-test. He spent all morning cooking every single food you’d craved since your pregnancy started—waffles, French toast, cinnamon pancakes, toast with special mixed fruit jam you can only get at a grocery store an hour away, scrambled, over easy, poached, hard boiled eggs. All arranged so beautifully on the table, even going as far to put the napkins on the left, after you screeched at him a few months ago for haphazardly having them on either the right or left, and never with the fork consistently on top.

He thought he’d learned his lesson, thought he made more than enough up to you, but no. You breeze right by, making a cup of tea, and go back upstairs to your closed door.

Your sadistic mind had given him false hope when you hadn’t locked the door on him on night number two. He slept in his bed, but you had made a clear parry by slotting between the two of you the infernal pregnancy pillow that Joel had kept in storage since you “Much preferred your husband’s plushy belly and soothing rubs.”

Fat chance tonight.

Every minute he wasn’t telling you how beautiful you are, how amazing you are, how lucky he is, he spends groveling with please forgive me, I’m so sorry, I’m such a worm.

None of it sways you any differently.

By day 4, he’s given up the sweet talk and grand gestures. Goes for a “think like her” kind of mental approach.

He tries to bribe you—either making you a Pepsi float, or even bringing home the famous Hot Fudge Cookie Dough Chocolate Gooey Fantasy Milkshake with EXTRA Rainbow sprinkles. But even as he temptingly waves in front of your little wiggly nose, you don’t acknowledge him.

He makes a big show to sigh heavily in defeat, leaving it on the kitchen table alone and trotting helplessly upstairs for a shower.

Less than 7 minutes later he’s come back down to see if you’d given in yet, maybe even telling him what a fantastic husband he is while shoveling your face with ice cream and admitting you were being dramatic.

Instead, you’re still sitting on the couch, exactly as he left you. Of course, the milkshake cup is completely empty, sucked clean of its gooeyness, and there’s a little splotch of chocolate sauce lingering on your chin you had failed to wipe clean.

A start, he thinks.

Still though, you don’t pay him any mind, scrolling on your phone with tight lips.

He wonders how long you could go on with this game.

It’s honestly a fucking terrible miracle—not even since before you were pregnant had you gone this long shutting the fuck up. But now its horrifyingly eerie, like a curse has fallen upon him and he’s doing everything he can to break it, to bring back your nagging and bitching and whining and crying because it would be so much more relaxing than this new kind of psychotic hell you’ve subjected him to.

He starts getting a little more involved: playing with your body, touching you softly with gentle strokes along your thighs and belly. You hadn’t flinched away, or tried moving to another spot on the couch.

Which confirmed one thing to him: your horniness and lack of physical attention from your husband due to your stubborn mind was losing your mental battle to hold out against him.

So Joel doesn’t say anything either as he moves his lips over your breasts, down your swollen belly and kissing his babygirl in your bump. He mumbles, “Mommy is awfully mad at Daddy, think I can cheer her up?”

The baby kicks as if in agreement. His gaze glances up briefly to see if you’re listening.

Your eyes catch and yours quickly dart away, leaning back and pretending to yawn. He snickers before continuing his hot trail of open mouthed kisses until your legs “shift” and “accidentally” part on their own.

He makes sweet, insatiable yet slow love to your pussy, licking a fat strip from your little clenched hole to that hot delicious center that is beyond wet for him—yet another example of how much your body clearly can’t ignore him forever.

But, ever as he brings you to a long needed orgasm, you bite your tongue, absolutely refusing to give him even the slightest sound of satisfaction despite clenching tightly around his thick digits pumping into you. Only letting out a strangled breath through your nose while you stare up to the ceiling, fingers folded across your tummy as if bored.

He wipes away the slick from his mustache. Hell, even he can admit you deserve an applaud for making it through that without uttering a peep to his skills.

Hurts like hell on the inside though that you’re just that mad still.

He had hoped that being forced to drive with him due to your size preventing you from sitting behind the wheel would corner you into talking him, but even then, as he opens the passenger door for you, you climb aboard and slam the door shut without his assistance.

Now the two of you are on your way to yours and Maria’s weekend brunch. Tommy was also coming to drop his girlfriend off, so it would be a good time to catch him up on this unqiuely-pregnant-you madness.

You snatch your purse and hop out of the car, mood going a full 180 and instantly greeting Maria with a warm hug and perky voice. The two of you sit down at a little table way aways from your idiot husband and brother in law.

Tommy nods him over to the bar and Joel grumbles over.

“She ignoring you?” His little brother asks while shelling peanuts.

“Is it that obvious?” Joel shakes his head. He can’t even leave off with Tommy because he knows you won’t answer his texts asking what time you’re done for pickup. So he’s stuck here to wait for you the entire time.

“You try going down on—“

“Yes! Yes I fucking tried.”

“She didn’t like it?”

“Oh no, she came hard. Wouldn’t even whimper for me when she was clenching her little cunt around my fingers—” he says with an aggressive whisper, his pointer and middle fingers shooting up in the air with wild eyes demonstrating the scene, “—and her little numb twitchin’ on my tongue. Didn’t even fucking moan. She’s a stubborn girl but I don’t deserve that.”

Tommy shakes his head with a chuckle. “Damn. That’s just determination right there. Gotta give it to her.”

Tommy excuses himself with a slap to the shoulder, muttering “gotta take a leak” and disappears to the bathroom.

Joel wouldn’t mind having a drink right now, but know’s he’s gotta stay sober to drive you home. A miserable, silent filled drive once again. He glanced at his watch, following each tick of the hand.

“Hi there.”

Joel almost didn’t address the voice of the woman who had gentle snuck up behind him, moving to take Tommy’s seat. She’s probably a little younger than you, a nice kind smile, inviting and warm towards a stranger.

Joel politely smiles back with a little nod.

She offers a sweet “thanks”, a blush creeping on her cheeks before she begins to speak: “Listen, I don’t mean to prude… but I saw you come in and ...I’m usually not so brash—but I was wondering…”

Meanwhile, your baby is beat boxing extra hard today in your stomach. You can’t even focus on eating your salad and keeping up with Maria’s chatter about Tommy’s nose hairs all over the vanity.

Your baby is smart. She knows something is up. You narrow your eyes and look around, finding Joel and company at the bar—

Except the company he is keeping is NOT Tommy but instead, a gorgeous woman tossing her hair and flashing her pearly white teeth off at your husband, who’s giving her his full attention. She’s giggling with him, taking animatedly with her hands, lingering heavy eye contact and touching his watch as if looking for an excuse to get closer.

You forget about the massive planet sized lump in your belly as you instantly stand up, nearly tipping the table and all its dishes and cutlery over.

Maria is calling your name but you don’t have the mind to answer, striding over like a bull towards the bar.

“Hiiiiiiii!”

Joel and the woman both jump at the harsh shrill of an annoying, high pitched, slightly perturbed but faking a smile, voice screeching behind them—the most beautiful voice Joel’s ever heard…and had missed so dearly this week.

The woman looks over to you, seemingly startled that you had interrupted the conversation so brazenly.

“Oh, um, hi,” she offers, blinking off your pregnant belly and abrupt appearance.

“This is Joel,” you boast, pointing the shlump of a man in front of her.

“Ah-Hello—“ she smiles again to him.

You add quickly. “He’s my husband.”

“Oh.”

“And I’m his wife.”

“Ah—I—“

“Annnnnnnnd this is our baby!” You boast, proudly rubbing over that enormous swell of your tumtum so she can see in case it wasn’t the biggest fucking thing in this room. “And… you are?” You ask sweetly.

“Um…” she takes one last glance at Joel, his apologetic shrug saying everything then at you, your hard gaze burning holes into her head. “…leaving,” she says towards you.

“Great answer. I like you :) Bye Bye now!” You wave enthusiastically with a chipper voice and a deadly smile. She nods fretfully and pops off the stool, walking away like a threatened animal.

He just chuckles, shaking his head and looking down at his hands with a grin. “Ya know, she just came over to ask where I got my watch.”

“And did you tell her your WIFE bought it?” You ask, poking your finger at his chest.

He has to hide his crooked smile. It’s the first time you’ve directly spoken to him since Monday. “Yeah, I did. She asked where ya got it, because she was looking for one just like it—for her husband.”

Your finger fidgets slightly, expression drawing a blank at the revelation turning over in your mind.

“……………………………………………....................................oh.”

He rotates his stool to face you. You’re steeping in your thoughts, the confidence faltering just slightly in your mind at the realization of how grossly you had interpreted the situation between that innocent woman and your hubby. He didn’t even care, though. All he could think about was how his heart feels 10x lighter seeing you back in your usual, bold, daring, audacious self. All of your attention on him once again.

“I’ll admit, still felt good havin’ ya come to my rescue.”

You scoff, near offended by his words. “Well duh, you’re mine.”

“That right? Even these last few days?”

Yet another bomb goes off in your head at the second realization—that you had forfeited your punishment to ignore him to the ends of the earth.

You cross your arms defensively anyway. “Well... I…decided.”

“Mmm?”

“That…I needed a back rub. But you clearly you can’t pick up on that on your own so—now I have to verbally tell you.”

“Ah huh. Sure it wasn’t cuz you were jealous? Couldn’t stand me being interested in another woman since my own made it clear she didn’t want me no more? Because my wife decided she couldn’t be patient and wait the extra 13 minutes I was running late before punishin’ me all goddamn week?”

Oh wait—was he really only late by 13 minutes? You could have sworn it was an hour plus!

“That wasn’t 13 minutes! Do you know how to tell time? It was over an hour—“

“Did you set your clock back like I told you to the night before when we got back from the coast, into our own time zone?”

😳

- - - -

Also this is how I see reader getting ate out but trying to be nonchalaunt about it:

conveniently also my favorite shot of Pedro during a photoshoot

Permanent taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrs-oharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee

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wonderlandwalker · 16 days

Text

First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner.

Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it.

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition.

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold.

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.”

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence.

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

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lightvixxen · 2 years

Text

Innocent act

Older!neighbor!Eddie x innocent !whore! F!reader

MINORS DNI, 18+ ONLY!! Read pt2 here , read pt 3!

Warnings: age gap Eddie is 30 reader is 18+, vouyerism? Eddie watched reader get off while she doesn’t know it, choking, degrading (whore/slut), pet names (baby, sweetheart, doll, pretty girl), small spanking, a dom!Eddie, sub!reader, Eddie has a sir kink bc i can, eddie also has a corruption kink unprotected PIV sex (WRAP IT BEFORE YA FUCKING TAP IT) creampies, Mechanic! And perv!Eddie sprinkled in. Lmk if I missed anything!!

I love Reblogs and likes absolutely make my day!! I do not consent to having my work being posted on a third part website

Kinda hate the way this turned out also excuse bad grammar tis was rushed

Word count: 3k, i got a bit carried away

Summary: after your car breaks down, Eddie offers to fix it, finding the perfect evidence to destroy that little good girl act you have going.

Tags: @thefreakofhawkins86, @and-claudia

It was a hot summer day in Hawkins, and your car had decided that that was the perfect time to break down. You huffed at your car as you closed the hood to your engine. Having no clue why you even bothered to look at it in the first place, you didn't know the first thing about cars! Sighing you leaned against your car's door, mentally preparing yourself to call a tow truck and then your father to pay for it. Looking slightly to the right, away from your house, you groaned at the missing van in the driveway.

If Eddie were here you could just ask him! But of course, he just had to be away when your car decided to give out on you.

You pushed yourself off of the car and opened the driver's side, planning to retrieve the pack of cigarettes you stole off of your father from the glove box. Hidden away so you wouldn't blow your cover of the resident “good girl”.

Maybe the universe had decided to be kind to you today, or just wanted to see you suffer as the familiar sound of loud music got closer. Soon enough a familiar van pulled into the neighboring driveway. You groaned internally and prayed to a higher power you had enough strength to act all innocent around a man who was pure fucking sin.

Eddie Munson hopped out of his van, chains and rings visible in the sunlight,

Hair pulled back, black jeans, and a simple band-tee is what he had decided on for the hot day. You looked over your shoulder briefly and then immediately let your head hang, cursing him for looking hot when you needed to concentrate. You climbed back out of your car seat and called over to him.

“Hey, Mr.Munson!”Eddie looked over at you from his doorway and smiled.

“Well if it isn't my favorite neighbor! What's going on sweetheart? Why ya out here in the heat?” He called back, beginning to make his way over to you.

“Oh, my car decided to break down today.” You chuckled as if it was no big deal, which it was.

“Want me to take a look at it? Save you some trouble?” The metalhead crossed over into your driveway in no time. You nodded, getting your car looked at, AND being able to see Eddie concentrated. Fuck yeah!

Eddie lifted your hood up and immediately cringed. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that Eddie's cringing was not a good sign.

“Is it bad?” you asked him, a little anxiously.

“Yeah, I'll have to take it down to my shop.”

A small sound of disappointment escaped your throat, knowing you couldn't just seamlessly watch him work from the window of your front room.

“How much will it cost?” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, playing with the hem of your skirt lightly. You and your dad really couldn't afford anything past 1k. He patted your head lightly.

“Don’t worry your pretty little innocent head about that doll.” right you had to be innocent around him. luckily he’s missed the way your thighs clenched together every time he calls you ‘doll’ or ‘sweetheart’.

“You can pay me with a plate of the amazing cookies you made the other week.”

You smiled, grateful to be free of expenses. “Thank you, Eddie!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!!” you hugged him tightly. Eddie chuckled and hugged you back, hands resting on your waist for a brief second.

“Anything for my favorite neighbor,” he lent down slightly and whispered darkly into your ear, “and the sweetest girl in town.” you felt arousal pool in between your legs, and your knees went weak. Surprised by his tone.

Eddie laughed to himself, releasing you and walking inside his house, “so easy” he thought to himself.

It's been a week since Eddie to your car to his shop. Which normally wouldn't be an issue except, you weren't able to grab your cigarettes from the glove box. And you couldn't just go down to his shop and grab them, you had a reputation to uphold! So that meant a week without nicotine, though you found other methods to get your high.

The past week had you turning to weed to get that pleasant feeling of not needing to think. Along with humping one of the poor teddy bears you owned until you came. Specifically, the one Eddie had gotten you for your 18th birthday.

His words played on repeat “sweetest girl in town” the way his breath felt against your skin, the way he gripped your hips when he said it, and god the way said it.

As you ground your hips into the soft fabric of the stuffed animal you imagined him saying those words under very different circumstances.

“Fuck, Eddie!” you moaned grabbing a fist full of his hair, tugging on it slightly. Eddie groaned against you, slick coating his chin as he attacked your clit, pulling back slightly with a “fuck, sweetest girl in town” before diving back in.

You felt your climax slowly rising through your fantasy, you ground against the stuffed bear particularly hard thinking about Eddie fingering you until you came.

You adored Eddie's fingers, rough and calloused from years of playing the guitar.

The image of the time you saw him playing the guitar shirtless came to mind, his forearms flexing as he played the chords. That image combined with the way he stuck his tongue out while concentrating sent you over the edge.

You came loudly, you might as well have been in a porno at that point. A chorus of Eddies and fucks fell from your mouth.

“Oh fuck, Eddie! Fuck, fuck, fuck!” you moaned, working yourself through your orgasm. It ended all too fast. You pulled your panties and pajama pants back on, got back into bed, put the very used teddy bear to the side to be used again later, and fell asleep.

----

You Hadn't realized that you had left your bedroom window open, letting Eddie hear everything you were doing. Maybe you had done it on purpose just to torture the poor man. His hand worked quickly over his cock “Fuuuck sweetheart, such sweet moans...” He barely had time to work himself up before pulling his cock out once he heard you. He could already feel his orgasm building, rapidly approaching the edge.

What sent him over the edge is when you came, moaning out his name. God, you were so cute...acting all innocent around him, like you didn't go up to your room and hump the toy he had gotten you. Eddie always wondered what you thought about him doing to you, what made you cum so loudly.

He groaned your name when he came, white ropes of cum shooting onto the wall in front of him.

“Such a fucking whore...” he watched as the light in your room flicked off.

Finally 2 weeks after Eddie had taken your car he finally! Gave it back to you. But of course, payment, before he handed you the keys.

“Sweetheart, I'm gonna need those cookies, before you get your precious car back.” He held your keys over his head, before pocketing them.

“I've had them done for the past week-” you started, before the bastard cut you off

“Oh no, I need fresh cookies as payment, I thought that was obvious.” he grinned “My door’ll be open, just come on in when you're done.”

With that he walked away, your keys still in his back pocket.

—-

A few hours later you were finally done with the new batch of cookies. Eddie was so picky about his cookies, But he did spend the week fixing your car so he did deserve a fresh batch.

You quickly transferred them onto a plate and covered the plate with ceramic wrap. Before you left the house you made sure what you were wearing was perfect, you had decided on a baby pink tank top and a white skirt, with a small pink choker and simple sneakers. You then made your way next door.

---

Like Eddie had said, the door was open.

“Mr.Munson?” you called into the house, you felt a little weird just waltzing into his house, even if you had known him for years.

Eddie appeared in the doorway, sweating slightly, hair a mess. Also very shirtless, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

You look down to see a very prominent bulge, then immediately advert your gaze onto the ink that covers his chest.

“Sweetheart, you know you don't need to call me Mr.Munson right? I've known you for years.” he moves out of the way, motioning for you to come inside.

“I know, but old habits die hard!” you pout looking at him, before walking inside, making your way to his kitchen to set the plate down. Before hopping up onto the counter and crossing your legs at the ankle, this was normal, for a bit you were over here most of the time after your father had to pick up long hours.

Eddie walked in after you, leaning against the counter beside you.

“Oh, sweetheart, believe me, I know.” He smiled before undoing the ceramic wrap on the plate and picking up a cookie.

“I also know smoking is bad for pretty girls such as yourself.” His eyes shifted, to you, something dark brewing in them, and you stuttered. How could he have known about that?!

“I-I don't know what you're talking about, Mr. Munson” you decided to play dumb, playing dumb always worked out for you before!

“Oh? You don't?” Eddie pulled a pack of cigarettes- your cigarettes, out of his pocket, chuckling darkly as your eyes widened ever so slightly.

“Lying sweetheart? And to me of all people? I’m hurt!” He pushed off the counter, moving to stand in front of you instead. You shook your head, looking down

“I don't smoke! You know I don't...” you couldn't meet his stare, no matter how hard you tried to. Eddie scoffed lightly

“You're just digging a deeper grave for yourself, sweetheart. I found these in your glove box.” he leaned in ever so slightly “And I know damn well nobody else drives that car”

You shook your head again, deciding to keep playing dumb. Trying to claw your way out of this.

“You know I think smoking is gross! I would never touch a cigarette.” you lifted your gaze slightly, staring past him.

“You know,” Eddie grabbed your face with the hand that wasn’t holding the pack of cigarettes, forcing you to look him in the eye. “I'd believe you saying that if you could even look me in the eye right now.”

You knew you had been caught red-handed, Eddie caught you with your hand in the cookie jar. Lying was pointless. The man had known you for four years, and he could tell when you lied.

“So, I'll give you one more chance to tell me the truth. Are these yours?” you broke, even now you couldn't hold eye contact.

You nodded “yeah...they’re mine” a defeated sigh left you, knowing that your little innocent act has been discovered, Eddie sighed, nudging your legs open with his knees so he could slot himself between them.

“I really should tell your parents about you smokin’, you really shouldn't be doing it...” panic washes through you, did he already tell them? Was all this just an act to get you to plead guilty?

“But sweetheart, I knew you weren't all that innocent.” Eddie released your jaw, and you blinked up at him slowly. Huh? Confusion replaces panic.

“So you haven't told my parents? And that wasn't just an elaborate setup for me to admit to it?” you watch as he moves over to the fridge and places the cookies in it.

“I’m not that mean, besides I started smoking around your age” Eddie took his place in between your legs again.

“Another question doll.” you hum in response, absent-mindedly playing with the chain around his neck.

“Do you intentionally leave your window open for me when you hump that teddy or, are you just that dumb?”

your hand stops moving when the last word falls from his mouth, you had left it open? Sure you had purposefully left it open once, the off chance he'd hear you moaning his name. But you didn’t close it?

“...I left it open?” Eddie fucking laughs, “oh pretty girl, you never thought to check? Surprised the whole neighborhood never heard you!”

Both arousal and embarrassment fill you, sure you wanted him to hear, but you didn't think you were that loud!

“Gotta say though, I loved the little show you put on the past week...loved hearing my name from your lips as you came.”

“OHMYGOD” you hide your face in your hands, typically not one to get embarrassed, you had slept half the school's basketball team! The embarrassment that filled you was surprising.

“Aww, she's embarrassed!” he mocked, moving your hands away from your face.

“What do you think about when you fuck yourself dumb?” “huh?” “you know exactly what I'm talking about, use that brain of yours.” He told you, leaning to suck on your neck, leaving feather-light kisses there.

He was asking you to think? When he was in between your legs kissing your neck, asking what you thought about when you got off?? How could you possibly think right now?! Despite your thoughts going a hundred miles per hour, you managed a small,

“You, I think about you.”

Eddie tsked.

“Gotta be more specific, pretty girl, what do you fantasize me doing to you?”

You felt like your face was on fire, your head dropped, not able to fully look him in the eye.

“I think about your hands…and how they would feel inside of me” Eddie’s mouth quirked up into a shit-eating grin. He knew damn well that wasn’t the only thing

“You just think about me fingering you? C’mon doll, you don’t think I buy that do you”His kisses stopped, a hand replacing his lips, . “What makes you come so hard all by yourself?”

You felt your heart skip a beat, having Eddie so close to you was nothing new, but this, this was extremely new territory. You felt like a helpless bunny, being hunted down by the mean wolf.

Eddie's other hand was on your thigh, rubbing up and down, each time going a little higher. Just a little more and he would feel the small damp spot already forming in your panties.

“I uh- I thought about...you eating me out and fingering me.” you shyly admit, “when you said I was the sweetest girl, I imagined you saying it in between my legs.”

Eddies fingers had made their way to your panties, a small gasp escaping you as he put pressure on your clit.

“Good girl...letting me know what I need to make into reality,” he mumbled. He leaned in fully, capturing your lips in a rough kiss. Eddie nipped at your bottom lip, asking for permission. You gave it to him, opening your mouth enough for his tongue to slip in. His hand moved your panties to the side, groaning at how wet you were. You moaned into the kiss, hands finding their way to his shoulders, you needed to hold onto something.

“Your soaking sweetheart! I haven't even touched you yet!” Eddie laughed, “do I affect you that much?” you nodded.

“Fuck- yes, just the thought of you makes me wet.”

Eddie gave you a wicked smirk, plunging a finger into your pussy, you moaned at this, his finger was probably longer and thicker than most of the guys you had been with in the past. And so much better than your own. He slowly started fucking his finger into you, wanting to take his time. You had other plans, you bucked your hips ever so slightly, trying to get more friction. Eddies hand tightened around your throat.

“Don't be greedy baby, you'll get what you want. Just let me play with you for a bit, yeah?”

You whined at his words, you didn't want him to go slow. You wanted him to be fast, rough, wanted him to fucking use you. thoughts of what he was going to do to you raced in your head.

“I’m gonna go out on a limb here and guess your not a virgin?” Eddie added a second finger, causing you to whine again, his fingers were better than anything you had experienced from the boys in your school. It made you wonder what his tongue felt like, what his cock felt like.

“Yeah- m’ not a virgin- fuck Eddie, lost it a while ago.” you had to resist the urge to move your hips against his fingers, it was too little and too much. The edge was approaching rapidly, you had never been this pent up before. You don't even think you had gotten close this quickly before.

“Good, good, I don't have to hold back.” he chuckled darkly, he wasn't letting you go until the damn sun came up. You clenched around his fingers at the sound, God you loved whenever he was even slightly dominant. Him ordering you around was a common occurrence in your fantasies.

“Fuck Eddie! I'm close, I'm so fucking close!” you moaned out, tumbling towards the edge- just a little more and you'd cum. At the very last second, before you toppled over the edge, Eddie ripped his fingers from you. You whined, “fuck- Eddie, please!”

“Don't worry sweetheart, you'll get to come, we have all night after all.” He lifted his fingers to his mouth. Sucking off your wetness from them, he moaned around his fingers, looking at you, His eyes held nothing but lust and hunger. You watched in embarrassment as he practically fell to his knees. With a mumbled,

“I think I just found a new drug…” Eddie rolled your skirt up and pulled your panties down your legs, shoving them into his pocket. He wasted no time latching onto your clit, a high-pitched seal left your mouth. A hand quickly grabbed a fist full of hair.

“Oh fuck! Mmm, holy shit, Sir!” you didn't even register what you had said, too caught up in the pleasure Eddie was giving you. He pulled back ever so slightly, being met with you asking why he stopped and desperately trying to shove his face into your pussy.

Eddie had to laugh, poor thing, so worked up on just his tongue you hadn't registered you called him something other than Eddie or Mr. Munson. Which of course, just made him painfully hard. He was already struggling to take his time. Wondered what you'd feel like around his cock as he fucked you, fast and rough.

“Oh baby, you have no idea what you just said, do you?” he smiled at your head shake, too lost in the pleasure. “You called me sir, sweetheart” and with that, he was delving back into eating you out. He licked a long stripe from your vagina to your clit. With a ‘you taste so fucking, good sweetheart.’

You were loud, grinding against his face, chasing your high. Shame be damned, this was the best head you'd received ever.

“God- fuck sir, S’fucking good!” You were getting

Close again, Eddie could tell based on the pitch of your moans. He stuck his tongue into you, lapping at the wetness that had formed. Reveling in the way you clenched around his tongue. Eddie’s patience snapped, he needed to fuck you, and he needed to fuck you now.

“Fuck- sweetheart c’mere” He hoisted you off the counter, spinning you around so you were bent over it. Holding your skirt in place, he pulled down his sweats and boxers in one swift movement. Letting his cock free, he groaned as cold hair hit his red tip, Eddie gave himself a few quick strokes before lining himself up. Of course, forgetting a crucial thing, he couldn’t exactly get an eighteen-year-old girl pregnant when he was thirty!

“Wait fuck- let me go grab a condom.” he released your hips, he didn't get far before you spoke up.

“Eddie, I'm on the pill it's fine, just fuck me already! Wan’ you to cum inside me, please!” Eddie almost growled, hands finding your hips again, he sheathed himself in you in one thrust, causing you both to cry out. You had never felt so full in your life! Eddie, who can’t believe he bottomed out with no resistance, was trying so extremely hard not to cum already, like a fucking teenager.

You rocked back onto him, a noise of disappointment when he held your hips still.

“Just- fuck give me a moment, feel so good I'm trying so hard not to cum right now.” He bent down, sucking bruises onto your neck and back. Next time he’d take his time, but having you all whiny and begging, was just too much for the man's sanity and control.

Eddie rocked into you slowly, God you were so fucking wet and tight, he threaded a hand in your hair, pulling you back against him as his speed quickened.

“Fuck- feels so good sweetheart.” Eddie panted, “such a good whore for me” he released your hair, hand coming to grip your throat.

“Letting me fuck you, wonder what daddy would say about his sweet little girl being pounded by a man half her age.”

“Eddieee, mm fuck so close!” you braced one of your hands on the counter, the other on his arm. He was even better than you had imagined, he was definitely above average, and had a nice amount of girth to him “so fucking full…” you rocked back onto him. This action is met with a harsh slap to your ass.

“Nuh-uh sweetheart, I'm in control” you whined, needing more than what he was giving you, he released your neck. pushing you against the counter in front of you, Eddie setting a punishing pace. His hand snaking to your front. His thumb rubbed circles against your clit, being built up for the third time that night. Your orgasm came suddenly and hard, your mouth falling open in a silent scream.

Eddie continued thrusting into you, fingers creating indents in your hips as he chased his orgasm. Your whines and pleas of him to slow down, that it was too much only spurred him on more.

“Fuck- gonna cum!” he grunted “Sir! Shit, come inside me, please!” Eddies thrusts became sloppy as white cum covered your walls.

“Fuuuuck sweetheart, so good for me.” as the two of you caught your breath, you couldn't help but giggle.

“What's so funny?” Eddie asked, kissing down the side of your neck.

“Noth'...just if all it took was you finding my cigarettes to fuck me, I would've planted them somewhere obvious ages ago!”

You whined as Eddie slowly pulled out of your aching cunt, a small string attaching you two before breaking.

“Sweetheart, I've wanted to fuck you since you turned eighteen. to see that little good girl act fall for ages now…and find the slut hiding under it,” he whispered the last part in your ear.

“Better stop talking to me like that unless you want a round two, sir” your smirk was quickly wiped off your face as Eddie picked you up.

“Say no more, doll!” He was already getting hard again.

—-

This was so fucking rushed omg, I'm sorry if it turned out bad!! But pt2 anyone?

#eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson x reader #eddie x female reader #eddie munson smut #eddie fucks #eddie munson x plus size reader #dom eddie supremacy #eddie deserved better #eddie x reader #Older!Eddiexreader #lightvixxens eddie

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tyquu · 1 month

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Ah I remember my question now!! Since Ezra is a growing boy, how does that impact his prosthetic use? I'm assuming they can't just go get him refitted like normal... do they help him resize? Do they build new parts? Or help him find some?

Hiii!! :D) So I doodled out my thoughts as I pondered this question but my handwriting is ass so… I’m also gonna write a little summary too!

Ezra's first Prosthetic was given to him by the same people who performed the amputation on his leg in the first place. Some concerned Lothali citizens who couldn't bare to watch him hop around on his severely infected leg any longer. 12 year old Ezra was pretty pissed about it though (understandably). It didn't help that his first prosthetic was old as balls and awful to walk on.

Thankfully, using bits n bobs he'd collected out on the streets, Ezra was able to tighten the loose hinges at the joints and modify the top to fit better. Alas, he ended up loosing this leg after bopping Kallus over the head with it pretty early on into joining the spectres.

Hera set him up with a pair of crutches and then devoted herself to finding him a replacement. She was determined to find something that was better than his last prosthetic and thought she'd struck gold when she figured out Vizago had one sitting in storage. She haggled hard but eventually managed to pocket the rarity, and delivered it back to Ezra. Sabine helped modify it fit to properly, and to Ezra's delight he discovered that the hinges on this leg were motion activated, and could pack an even better punch (or kick) than his previous one.

Ezra hadn't really manage to curb his habit of using his leg as a weapon on occasion, and during such an incident ended up losing leg 2 (much to Hera's despair). Thankfully, Sabine had helped Ezra do enough maintenance on his last two legs that she was confident she could fix up some similar prototypes using her engineering skills. The spectres all contributed to a scrap box that would be used to build replacement legs whenever Ezra ended up losing or outgrowing one. All of them were very dedicated to scouting out parts for him and happy to help with maintenance.

At some point the rebellion had gotten large enough to start having a more organised healthcare system, and Ezra was offered a spot on the surgery waitlist for cybernetics. Ezra was initially hesitant, however, post the incident on Malachor he eventually agreed.

The cybernetic, although not the most advanced for it's time, is connected to his nerves giving him full mobility over the prosthetic. However, it came with it's own new quirks that took some getting used to. Detaching and Reattaching the cybernetic takes between 2-5 minutes to do, and often requires tools to help, rendering it no longer an option as a spontaneous mid battle weapon. As a result there was no longer need for him to cut holes in the left leg of his trousers either.

Ezra doesn't sleep with the cybernetic (same as one wouldn't with a prosthetic) cause it would be hella uncomfortable. On lazy days, he often goes without it, opting to use crutches around base instead. The cybernetic is waterproof, however, in both snow and sand it can sometimes become clogged and stiff, and may need extra maintenance after the mission is complete. The ghost crew is always willing to help pitch in with their engineering expertise (mainly Hera, Sabine and Chopper) or spare part gathering.

Anywho,,, yeah. I hope that sort of answers that question?? I'm not 100% familiar with how prosthetics and cybernetics work in the Star Wars universe so forgive me if some of this info doesn't check out. ( also if u see a spelling mistake,,, no u don't)

#star wars #ezra bridger #star wars rebels #sw rebels #hera syndulla #sabine wren #amputee ezra bridger #cybernetics #ty tidbit #asks #swr art #ghost crew #star wars fanart

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itskattkm · 4 months

Text

Day & Night

Mabel (Finestkind) x G!P Reader

Warnings: life crisis, bruises, smut, bad writing because of translation

A/N: hello my dears. Here a Mabel short story. Maybe making a part two. The requests I had got are in work :) So this is my first try of some spice in English and I could cry in pain. The translation is so bad. And I need to stop changing perspective so often. It’s getting confusing right? Hope you guys can still enjoy

Part 2, Part 3

I remembered as if it was yesterday when I kept an eye on Mabel after she was beaten up by these damn dealers. I didn't know much but what I knew was that things didn't go as they should. So before Charlie took Mabel's car to take care of some things, I got the call to watch out for Mabel until he would be back.

I leaned against the wall when I looked through the small slit in her cardboard at the window. The sun seemed to go down. I sighed softly. What situation did I find myself in again? How many times had I asked myself this when it came to Mabel. For a very long time I thought that we were friends... although I knew deep inside that we never were. I was just like a lost puppy... someone who would follow her wherever she wanted to go. Someone who would do anything to pray for her. Someone whose feelings were obviously not reciprocated. Someone... who was self-evident.

I looked over my shoulder back at her. As if frozen, she sat at the end of her bed and stared at the dark floor. I could feel her pain... her fear. What should you say to someone who was beaten up by dealers a few hours ago? Was there anything right to say?

As I knew Mabel, it was probably raging in her thoughts. Accusations. Shame. Disappointment. She hated the life she came from. I never knew anyone who had longed for a different life like me. At that time, I thought this was something that had connected us. Or did I just try to look longing for things that weren't there? For things that would connect us in any way?

I turned around and walked to the small dining table to take one of the chairs. When I now picked up one of the older wooden chairs and placed it in front of Mabel to sit im front of her, I got her attention. But I only got this because I had made noises that weren't there before.

I slowly sat down opposite her, looking down at the pack full of swabs and the alcohol bottle. I took out one of the swabs and moistened it with the alcohol.

I carefully lifted Mabel's chin with my hand. My eyes were now on her lips. The laceration on her lip had opened again. I didn't know if my attempt to take care of her injury made sense. Whether it did anything at all. But I couldn't stand here any further, wait for Charlie's return and drown in silence.

"You fumble too much on it... it opens again and again" I whispered gently before I dabbing her wound and only got a soft hiss from Mabel when she consumed herself because of the burning.

Again, a sigh escaped me. I threw the cotton wool aside. I wondered how long I would have to suffer. Would it ever be over?

"Thank you..."

The words and the me making me feel goosebumps tone in her voice brought me back. I looked with a mix of worry and sadness in her dark eyes, slightly smeared eyelashes ink emphasized her aura. Her left eye was decorated with yellow bruised spots that slowly turned purple.

I lost myself in the darkness of her eyes. Asked me if she could ever see how much was hidden in my eyes? Every time I looked at her, I had the feeling that I knew what was going on in her. How she felt.

My heart was bleeding and although I knew that my presence and the attempt to sit or just be there for her would not change anything , I couldn’t help it. I hesitantly raised my hand and fixed her bangs, with an almost trembling hand I tried to wipe a strand to the side to see her face better. I didn't want to hurt her. I was afraid of getting so close to her at all.

Now I could admire her injured face in full costume. Why is my heart bleeding all the more to see her in such a state? Why did I find her even more beautiful? Why couldn't these feelings disappear?

The burning of my eyes brought me back from a so-called trance. I didn't smell any of these feelings. Never.

"You are very strong... never forget that," I whispered because I didn't know what else to say. Her eyes pierced me. This time I didn't know what I could see in it. Gratitude? Security? Or maybe it was nothing at all?

But they seemed so gentle. So gently that I had to fight with the urge to somehow tell her my feelings.

Almost a year passed after this incident.

Mabel and Charlie have been still a couple. Charlie and Tom had now built a new bussines with the Finestkind. The crew still had hard jobs... yet they were independent and very important... not on the criminal path.

It was again one of those nights when I sat on the scaffolding of the bridge and just watched as the sea and the sky became one in the dark.

Never before had I felt so lost. So lost from my path.

It was the stormy days when I was here at the pier and watched the raging sea. It should remind me that I was alive... that there had to be a reason for all this. That there was a story for me that I didn't know anything about yet, but when would all this come? When would I feel free. When would I feel important?

"It's one of those days again?"

a voice too familiar to me spoke.

I looked to the side, Mabel slowly approached the terrain and looked out into the distance in which the lights of the Finestkind could already be seen.

Then my heart sank. I knew she was here to pick up Charlie. It wasn't a prescribed path that should lead her to me... No... but to Charlie.

I looked at the ship.

"I guess" I said because I didn't know if Mabel was really interested in how I was doing and what I was doing. Most of the time I was the one who asked and listened, I mean… I cared.

"How's it going with college?" I asked her

Mabel nodded and had this beautiful wide smile on her lips as she looked out to the ship. From the side I could she her dimples and beautiful side profile.

"It was definitely the right decision," she said.

I smiled because of her happiness. Of her her joy...

"I'm happy about that," I said and looked back at the ship. As it got more and more windy, Mabel had hooked her arm in mine and laughed slightly "you have to stop being up here in this weather. It's dangerous"

I grinned. Was this a concern? Was she really interested? This sentence warmed my heart in so many ways. The fact that she knew how many times I was here... that alone gave me hope.

"But at those times it looks the most beautiful out here!" I shouted when a stronger gust of wind hit us.

Mabel shook her head "you really have to stop falling for the things that could kill you"

I looked at her thoughtfully.

What did she mean by that?

Suddenly the horn of the finestkind sounded. Mabel grabbed my arm more firmly and pulled me with her to leave the scaffolding of the bridge together.

When we arrived downstairs and watched the boys docking, my heart began to race. As soon as Charlie had left the ship, Mabels loosened her grip around my arm and she landed in his. He put his arms around her narrow waist and kissed her for a long time.

How much I wish I could have been Charlie. How much I wanted to give her my love and everything else in the world... how much I wanted this from her. The other boys greeted me with hugs. Tom laughed dry

"Y/N if you continue like this you will become our lighthouse" a laugh escaped me and I boxed into his shoulder.

"Beauty and death at the same time... I say," Mabel joked. I grinned and gradually began to understand. "What do you think... are we still going to the bar?" Charlie asked.

More months passed after that day. It was a day like almost any other.

I didn't go to the community college like Mabel, but I had studied online. In the summer season, Mabel actually began to spent most of her time with me on the grounds of the bridge. We learned together. Waited until the boys would come back.

It became our thing. Now I knew that Mabel came here not only because of Charlie... but also because of me.

"How are things going?" I asked her because she was exceptionally quiet today. She looked into the distance and said "I'm not sure..."

I knew this look. Pain. Longing. So I counted one and one together. Things between her and Charlie seemed to have changed.

The boys haven't come back for a long time now. They were on a almost one month long "trip" if I could call it that.

I followed her gaze, a fisherman to date, I indeed imagined that difficult.

"Do you have time tonight?" Mabel asked me with this self-confident strong tone. I looked back at my laptop

"Probably why?"

"I could use some help..."

She began to pack her things and looked down at me. The wind blew slightly through her hair, she looked at me with a grin to which I could never say no.

"So?" She Hacked after I was just staring at her. I shook my head slightly to wake up.

"Yes... yes, of course. When should I come over?" I asked her

"I'll come to you... in about an hour..."

I nodded and watched her go down.

Maybe we were friends after all.

Later in the evening I was just cooking food.

One hour became two... and two almost three. It has now been 11 o'clock at night. I was tired and would still have to do some tasks.

Just when I was about to change, it suddenly knocked on my door. Confused about the late time, I went to the door and opened it. Immediately Mabel entered my apartment slightly out of breath with a wide grin.

Confused, I locked the door behind her and looked after her. She put her shoulder bag on my dining table and said

"Sorry, I'm late..."

I laughed dryly and looked at the clock

"Three hours..."

Mabel continued to grin as if she was in a “that interested me at least now mode”. She took off her leather jacket and looked at me "it's not a bad thing"

I walked past her to drink a glass of water in the kitchen "it's not like I would have liked to have done something else instead of waiting here and worrying a little".

Mabel followed every movement of Y/N with a cheeky yet gentle smile.

"You were worried?" She asked in a teasing tone. Surprised by the sound, I looked at her nervously "of course... it's dark outside and you didn't even send me a text"

Mabel laughed slightly as she walked closer to Y/N "You could have texted me too..." she whispered and looked at her urgently.

Y/N felt a heat in herself that was difficult to control. In order not to respond to Mabel's last words, I said nervously "you wanted my help... what exactly?"

Mabel came closer and held the eye contact for unusually long "did I want that?" She whispered.

Slightly confused, I looked at her and didn't quite understand. I wanted to say something, but I didn't know what.

Suddenly Mable slowly put her hand around my waist and said "I meant rather... that I need you tonight"

The place where she touched me sent a wave of goose bumps to the rest of my body. Were those signals? Did I understand the situation I was in right now?

She got closer and closer to me and I didn't even think about moving at all. Her eyes moved back and forth between my eyes and lips. Her face was only centimeters away when her lips slightly brushed mine.

"How much do you want me y/n?" She whispered.

My heart beated hard against my chest.

As if attracted by a siren, I lean in. Next, I felt her soft lips on mine.

The lips that I wanted to feel for so long. To taste.

Mabel grabbed my neck and kissed me back deeper as she slowly led us into my bedroom.

There she pushed me down on the edge of my bed before she made herself comfortable on my lap and started kissing on my neck. Her hips moved into mine. My member immediately started to get hard. This seemed to please her because she rubbed herself more and more firmly on it as she held my neck tightly and kissed me passionately.

I was breathing heavily. Held her hip that was moving back and forth in my hands when I began to breathe heavily. I kissed her back hungry. My lips brushed hers over and over again when I tried to hold back.

"Don't hold back... show me" she whispered seductive. I pressed my nails into the fabric of her hotpants before kissing her hard and then bit on her lower lip to pull it slightly. Mabel gasped slight in surprise of the intense feeling and was overwhelmed by the fact how good y/n felt.

She kept grinding on y/n lap. She felt the big and hard bump in y/n pants and wanted to feel it so bad... wanted to touch it so bad. So she opened y/n pants and observed how rapid the breathing of y/n became.

Both looked down when Mabel freed y/n hard cock. Suddenly it felt like time had stopped. Very slowly she took him in her hand became aware of the size and felt the warmth he radiated. Y/N swallowed hard when she could watch Mabel hold her hard cock in her hand. Her hand was warm and it just felt so good. Both raised their heads and their eyes met. Mable's gaze wandered between Y/N's eyes and lips.

Y/n put her hand around the back of Mabel's head and pulled her closer. She kissed her slowly, breathed heavily and groped herself slowly with her tongue. Mabel escaped a slight moan when she returned this kiss and her tongue hit y/n. She grabbed her cock more firmly and began to move her hand up and down very slowly. Y/n felt all the pleasure coming over search. These touches. That's all she had always longed for.

Mabel observes satisfied the effective she exercised on y/n when she breathed heavily into her neck and tried to hold back her moans.

But she felt and could see how harder y/n always became. She wondered if the pain was with pleasure. She looked down at the pink tip as she slowed down her firm movements and stroked her thumb over her tip. Mabel herself felt an unbearably good pulsation inside of her when she saw some white liquid coming out of y/n cock.

Her heart was racing like crazy. Oh how much her body screamed for y/n. The things she wanted to do with her. She slowly began to kiss her neck. Her tongue strokes slightly over y/n pulse. She now moved her hand a little faster. But didn't want to take y/n too far because she wanted to feel her inside of herself.

She breathed heavily against y/n neck as she started to grind on her thighs while she gave you a probably long-awaited handjob.

"Do you have condoms?" Asked Mabel with a raspy voice. Y/n held tight Mabel’s waist. She breathed heavily when she said "Night table... top... top drawer"

Mabel nodded and reached for y/n jaw before she kissed her deeply and her tongue explored her mouth. She had some condoms herself, of course, but she preferred to use y/n... especially since this was a size that was clearly not comparable to that of Charlie and that in a good sense.

When her lips loosened, she let go of her hard limb. She began to take off y/n sweatshirt and shortly afterwards y/n helped Mabel get rid of her clothes.

Mabel slowly pressed y/n into the mattress so that she was laying on her back.

Mabel leaned over her as she began to kiss her passionately and rubbed her wet middle over the erection of y/n.

Y/n moaned and turned around so that Mabel was now under her. She kissed her jaw, throat and neck before she slightly bit into it and made Mabel escape moan.

She places herself between Mabel's legs. Their naked bodies touched each other and y/n struggled with an almost painful erection. She felt Mabel's warm and moist vagina. With her tip, she brushed Mabel's clit and breathed heavily as Mabel's grip solidified around y/n shoulders.

With full passion, y/n looked into Mabel's dark eyes before she bent over her chest and began to kiss her left breast. Mabel's grip demanded herself in y/n hair when she arched her back in pleasure and moaned. Y/n took time to taste her warm and gentle skin. In a teasing way she brushed her lips above the sensitive skin of Mabel's breast before teasing her nipple.

"Y/n..."

Gasped Mabel heavy. A shiver hit down y/n spine. How long did she want to hear Mabel call her. Taste and touch her body. She slowly kissed her nipples. And moved her tongue around it in circle movements. Everything y/n did robbed Mabel of her mind.

Mabel stretched out her arm and opened the top drawer of the bedside table to look for the condom.

That was a signal for y/n that Mabel wanted more and needed it. With hot and wet kisses y/n covered Mabel's neck and whispered Husky "don't be so impatient Mabel..."

Mabel shivered and chuckled slight before locking eyes with y/n and whispered seductive "just do what I'm telling you to do...".

She caressed y/n stomach... moving her hand slowly down to your hard cock "...please"

She added.

You nodded and let her put the condom on your hard cock.

You shivered when her hands touched you again and rolled over the condom in the most sensual way you could have imagine.

You spread her legs more before burying your face in the crook of her neck. Slowly you penetrated into her. Her walls are tighter than you could ever have imagined.

Some sounds left Mabel as you continue to slowly go deeper. You had reached for the lacquer when Mabel pressed her nails into your back and moaned as you extended her further. After a few moments, you both breathed harder. Mabel put her legs around your hip and whispered "deeper".

You did her that favor and fill her completely with your length in the next moment.

A loud moan caught her and for you it was like music. You finally got what you wanted. What you had longed for. Mabel. In your arms. Connected to each other. You would never be able to let her go again. She was what kept you alive... what motivated you every day even if it was so hard.

I held her hip tightly as I began to move slowly. Mabel's breathing became more and more intense. She moaned almost evenly and called my name.

I began to bump harder, had a firm grip around her thigh when I breathed heavily against her lips. She stretched out her head. Put her arms around my neck to be able to kiss me. Her tongue brushed my lips as she whispered “...y/n”.

I felt how she became more and more tighter with excitement. I felt a soft end with every new and faster push that made her moan more. I knew... that I had found the spot... and it wouldn't be long before she would have her orgasm.

"Y/n!" She shouted, totally intoxicated. Your body was shaking. With every push, she came closer to the feeling of pure satisfaction.

I kissed her hard before I buried my face back in her neck and whispered "your mine now..."

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multifandomgirl08 · 6 months

Text

Stones To Throw At My Creator [Mini Verstappen Series]

Dad! Max Verstappen x Wife!Reader (Established Relationship)

Summary: He wasn't his father. He would never raise Nico like that.

Warning(s): Angst, Mention of past trauma caused by a parent, Jos Verstappen (just him, in the second half), Max and Jos have a verbal confrontation

A/N: Title from the song Bother by Stone Sour. This song was on one of my playlists and I couldn't help but think of Max while listening to it. I don't normally tackle heavy issues, but I couldn't get the idea of Max wanting to comment about his father's parenting now that he is going to be a parent (again). Totally me rambling but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

This part and the following part of Mini Verstappen are going to be heavy in terms of the subject. Luckily after the next part, it'll be the second to last time we hear about Jos in this series.

Words: 2k

Previous Part → Next Part Mini Verstappen Masterlist

It was one of the odd weekends that Max had off. Nico had a karting race that weekend, and Max made sure that he had been there given how many he had already missed.

“I only got fourth.” Nico blubbered, with his head slumped against his chest.

“You can’t win them all Nico.” Max insisted.

“But you win almost all of your races.” The little boy remarked.

While Max enjoyed winning when he was racing, he didn’t want Nico to feel like he had to strive to be amazing behind the wheel at such a young age. Nico was still learning and wasn’t going to be competing until he was older. He shouldn’t be thinking about winning races all the time. He was just a child.

“Yes I do, but there was a time when I didn’t. Winning isn’t everything. You need to focus on being a good driver first before winning anything. Especially when you have a team of people who are working alongside you.” He explained.

Nico knew how important the team was when Max was on the track, it was hundreds of people working to improve the car. It was never just Max at the end of the day. Max didn’t want to push Nico like his father had pushed him. There were times when Max felt he couldn’t handle the pressure his father was putting on him and he didn’t want Nico to ever feel like that.

Over the last year that Nico had been karting, Max had made his peace with it. This was what Nico wanted. So Max would support him even if he didn’t want his son to pursue being in motorsports.

After having spent so many years away from his father’s influence, with only his son and a nanny to take care of him for the first few years. It made Max think about the way that he was raised, how his father had conditioned him to have a very particular mentality when he was on the track and that was great when he was driving for Red Bull, but it wasn’t how he wanted to raise his son. He didn’t want his child to feel like he had to put aside the other things that he cared about for karting.

Nico would one day be his own person, he didn’t have to have the same aspirations that his father had for him growing up. He wanted Nico to enjoy karting while he was still young, he didn’t want to make it about winning for him. When he was older and decided that it was something that he wanted, then maybe… maybe he could be there to encourage Nico to pursue racing. He didn’t want to force it on him.

“But I like winning. It’s fun.” Nico muttered mostly to himself.

Max let out a deep breath.

He wanted to push Nico to do great when he was driving but he never wanted to take it to the extremes of his father.

He helped Nico pack up all of his things before going and meeting Y/N at the car.

“How about,” He offered up as they walked to the car. “We can work on you winning but when it’s not fun anymore I want you to tell me.”

He knew it wasn’t the perfect thing to offer up but it was better than what he had gone through growing up. He never wanted his son to resent him the way he did his father.

“Okay.” Nico nodded up at him. “Does that mean that we can fix the su…spen…sion? I think there is something wrong with it.”

Max couldn’t help but lightly smile.

“After dinner, we can go into the garage and take a look.” Max normally kept Nico out of the garage when he was working on Nico’s kart. He didn’t want his little fingers anywhere near it just in case something went wrong.

Max saw Y/N before she saw him. She was loading her bag into the back seat of the car while holding her growing belly. Baby Verstappen #2 was growing by the day.

When Y/N told him that she was pregnant he had been scared, he throught that he would have more time racing before they had kids together. Max hadn’t been around when Nico’s birth mother was pregnant with him, and he wanted to be able to experience all of it this time around.

His wife had been at ease with the idea, telling him that there was nothing stopping them from giving Nico a sibling, he was already an amazing dad and adding another one to the family would only further prove that. He had believed her, and now that Y/N was pregnant he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

Max moved all of Nico’s karting things into the trunk of the car and closed it once everything was put away. He made his way to the front of the car, reaching for his wife’s waist.

"Hi, mijn leeuwin." He muttered.

"Hello." She replied before he pulled her in and kissed her letting his hand rest on the growing bump.

“Eww.” He heard from Nico.

Max pulled away long enough to laugh at his reaction. Although their son was used to all of the affection that he showed Y/N it was only recently that Nico started to find it gross.

Y/N carefully reached down and kissed Nico on the cheek.

“No, Mama,” Nico said after he squirmed away wiping off her kiss with the sleeve of his jacket. Nico was still as attached to Y/N as ever but there were little things that showed Max how quickly Nico was growing up.

They had just finished dinner, Max was clearing the table insisting that Y/N relax on the couch with Nico. He didn’t want her walking around more than usual.

There was a knock on the front door, they weren't expecting visitors.

“I’ll get it,” Max said abandoning the table for the door. It was a short walk, him then turning the lock of the door, and a small pull to see his father. Max froze where he stood. What was he doing here?

“Who’s at the door, baby.” He heard.

“No one, just someone who’s at the wrong house.” He said looking directly at his father. Max was quick to reach for his keys. He wasn’t going to invite his father inside. He didn’t want him here.

“Be right back.” Max hollered into the living room.

He pushed his father away from the front door before closing it behind him.

“What are you doing here?” He yelled in Dutch.

“Can’t I visit my family?” Jos had asked.

Max said nothing back to that. Jos knew that they had stopped being his family a long time ago.

“I don’t want you anywhere near my son.” Jos was trying to be civil, but Max didn’t want to be civil. He just wanted him gone from his life like he had been for the last 5 years.

“I’m his grandfather.”

“No, you’re the man that made me realize how I don’t want to raise my son.” He knew those words would cut deep, that was the intention. And he already has a grandfather in Christian, why would he need you? He wanted to add but didn’t.

Jos Verstappen wasn’t his father, they may share blood and a name but nothing else. He wanted nothing to do with him.

When Max was younger he never had to courage to stand up to his father, but after Nico came into his life he realized that he now needed to put Nico before him. After he started dating Y/N, got married, and found out that she was pregnant it made him aware that one day he would see his father and would need to stand up to him and tell him how he felt after all those years.

“What about my other grandchild?”

Max closed his eyes at those words. He never wanted him to know that Y/N was pregnant.

“You didn’t think I would find out?” Jos half questioned.

“I knew that you would eventually find out. I just never expected you to show up at my home with my family here.”

“I’m your family.”

“How can you claim to be my family when you tried to keep my son from me?” Jos never wanted him to know that he had a son. It wasn’t in his plans to make him a champion. Even if Nico wasn’t in his life, he knew he would eventually achieve that goal despite Jos always telling him that he would amount to nothing.

Becoming world Champion meant so much more given that he got to share those dreams with Nico.

“I did it for you, for your career.”

His career? That was his reason. Almost getting frostbite on his fingers as a child, being punched in the face after a race, being left at a gas station in the middle of knowhere. Was that for his career? He could think of more incidents that Jos would claim were “for his career”.

Jos Verstappen’s coaching made him a great driver, but it would have made him a shitty parent in addition to being a horrible husband.

He never wanted to put Y/N through what his mother had to deal with.

“You can claim that it was for my career. But it doesn’t change the fact that I don’t want you near my family.” Max was tempted to bring up getting a restraining order. If he did, he knew right away that Jos would call him weak, spineless, even pathetic. Jos loved to chuck insults at just about anyone, including the man that he called son.

“Max?” He heard coming from the front door. He turned around to see Y/N standing there looking concerned.

“What’s going on?” You asked.

“Nothing, liefde.” He quickly switched back to English. He didn’t want to alarm Y/N that anything was wrong even with the concern that was shown on her face. “Everything is fine.”

He was trying to be reassuring to her. Hoping that she could tell that he had everything handled and wanted her to go back inside so Nico wouldn’t be left alone in the house.

He could see that Y/N was looking past him to see who was standing there. Y/N never pressured him to talk about his father, even if she was curious about what had led them here.

“Please, go back inside.” He pleaded. He didn’t want her around Jos.

He saw her stand up straighter before making her way back into the house.

He turned back to Jos and saw he met his eyes he could see something in him shift.

“You’ve got a good wife, strong, understanding,” Jos said, and as the words left his mouth he wasn’t sure if he wanted to smile at having Jos be proud of something he chose that wasn’t racing or punch him for talking about Y/N. “Looks like my son has gotten at least one thing right.”

“I’m not your son.” He said. He finally got his father's approval, and now he was quick to realize that he didn’t want it. “Now, please leave. I won’t ask you again.”

Jos didn’t say anything back. He didn’t walk away either at first, but as they stood there Max rooted his feet into the concrete of the driveway. Jos nodded before walking away.

It was strange watching his father walk away. He finally saw that Max had grown up and was his own person. As his father disappeared into the distance, all he could feel was a weight slowly lifting off his shoulders. Almost like it was easier to breathe.

He let himself take some time before he made his way inside the house. As he walked back to the house, it was the first time he felt like he didn’t have to watch over his shoulder.

He opened the door to see Y/N standing there with Nico by her side. He opened his arms for them, wanting them close. He breathed in the scent of her hair, feeling the press of Nico into his other side. He was so grateful for the two of you.

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

It's Okay, Daddy's Here | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Even after your honeymoon is over, you find yourself needing your husband all the time. One Saturday, when Bradley is out with the guys, you have an itch you just can't scratch by yourself. When he comes home and finds you a desperate, horny mess, he assures that "It's okay, Daddy's here."

Warnings: Smut and fluff

Length: 2200 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series! (But it can be read on its own) Check my masterlist in my profile for the reading order!

You couldn't understand what had happened to you since you stopped taking your birth control pills, but you'd been insatiable for the last month and a half. The ten day honeymoon you and Bradley had spent in Hawaii had been pure perfection. And now you'd been enjoying your husband as frequently as you could get your hands on him since returning home.

"What do you mean you're going golfing tomorrow morning?" you asked Bradley as you got undressed for bed on Friday night. You paused, naked with his tee shirt in your hands, and gaped at him. "Roo. That'll be hours. And then the guys will want to go out for drinks," you whined. "You won't be here to fuck me."

He groaned and patted his lap before he reached for you. "Tee time at the country club is Javy's Christmas present to all of us, so I agreed to go." You tossed the shirt aside and climbed up onto the bed to straddle his thighs. "But I can cancel, Baby Girl," he grunted, palming your tits as you leaned in closer to kiss him.

"No," you moaned against his mouth. "I don't want Javy to be mad at me. But you better do me so good right now, Roo. Seriously."

"Don't I always?" he growled, flipping you onto your back and running his fingers down along your belly and over your tattoo. "Don't I always take care of you?"

"I have the best husband," you whispered as his lips connected with your neck. Then his fingers met your clit, and he eased his body weight down on top of you. And it was heavenly. And he fucked you hard into the bed until you came, screeching his name. And then you slept all night long, curled up on his warm chest in a state of satiated bliss.

But as soon as you woke up to a cold, empty bed late Saturday morning, you flopped onto your back and tried to coax yourself back to sleep once more. But you couldn't. The need was almost immediate as you sat up. The bedding smelled like Bradley, and you knew you needed to go into the other room.

After you grabbed your glasses and pulled on his soft UVA shirt, you went to make some coffee. But as it brewed, your mind wandered to how good he looked in his white golf pants and polos. You hoped he was wearing that deep blue floral print shirt that hugged his biceps.

"Good Lord," you gasped, fixing your coffee the way you liked it and walking out onto the back patio with Tramp. But even the chilly December San Diego air couldn't cool you down. Bradley was probably getting all sweaty right now, gripping his nine iron and wearing those soft gloves.

"Jesus," you whined, pacing around and sipping your hot coffee. "Just chill. You made it through work all week without him." But that wasn't exactly true. On Tuesday, you'd fucked him on your lunch break in the backseat of the Bronco in the parking garage. And on Thursday afternoon, he'd come into your office reeking like jet fuel and fucked you up against your file cabinet.

Tramp looked up at you when you let out a noise close to a whimper. You finished your coffee and went back inside to start packing for the Christmas holidays, but as soon as you opened your underwear drawer, you caught sight of all of your wedding lingerie, and you had to leave the room again.

A shower. That would help. But you tried hot water and then cold water, and you just ended up with your back pressed against the tile wall, stroking our fingers over your clit. You must be ovulating. That would explain a lot right now. But as you tried to get yourself off, you kept coming up short.

"No," you whined, dipping your fingers into your own slick before bringing them back up to your clit. When you managed to get the tiniest bit of relief, you finished up in the shower and went to get dressed.

But you ended up pulling out your vibrators only to glare at them, because they did not look as appealing as Bradley did. "Fuck," you grumbled, tossing them back where they belonged and kicking your drawer closed.

How much longer could golf possibly take? You'd be fine until you could get the real thing. You could wait.

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

Bradley rushed through the eighteenth hole, hoping to get back home to you faster, but the guys weren't having it.

"Let's hit up the bar," Hangman drawled. "Drinks are on me."

Bradley opened his mouth to protest, but Jake cut him off and said, "And don't even try to use your wife as an excuse, Bradshaw. You and Angel can go a few hours without your hands all over each other. The honeymoon is over."

But it wasn't. It really wasn't. Bradley wanted his hands and mouth on you at the moment so badly, he hoped the honeymoon would never end.

"Fine," he grumbled. "One drink." But one turned into two, and the jukebox at the Hard Deck was playing Christmas music, and Penny got him to dance with her before he was able to sneak out. He had been gone most of the day.

As he walked back to the Bronco late in the afternoon sunlight, he texted you and let you know he was finally on his way home. Your response was almost instantaneous.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: Hurry

"Damn," he muttered, starting up the engine and rushing home to get to you. He thought maybe you'd be waiting for him in bed, wearing that little red lingerie set he liked so much, but what he discovered was even better.

"Holy shit," he muttered as soon as he walked inside the front door. His golf bag clattered to the floor as you turned your head to look over your shoulder at him.

"Roo," you moaned, and it was the neediest, most beautiful thing he had ever heard in his life. And before he knew it, he was palming himself through his white golf pants at the sight of you naked, straddling the arm of the living room couch. Your back was to him as you rubbed your bare pussy up and down the arm, back arched and whining softly.

He stumbled closer to you, his eyes glued to your ass as you moved in the most appealing way. You were leaving glistening streaks of your slick along the upholstery, and it was so fucking hot.

"What's going on, Baby Girl?" he managed to ask as you looked back at him again.

"I can't help it," you gasped, your voice bordering on pitiful as you sucked in a deep breath. "I'm so fucking horny, Bradley. I've tried masturbating all day, but nothing feels as good as you do."

"Oh, Sweetheart," he rasped, unzipping his pants and getting himself ready. "You should have called me."

"Please! I need you. Make it go away."

You were almost in tears now as Bradley put his hands on your hips, helping you rock your soaking wet pussy against the couch. "Shh. Daddy's home now. It's okay, Daddy's here." He stood behind you and kissed your bare shoulder, letting his fingers skim up your belly to stroke the undersides of your breasts.

"Oh! Your fingers feel so good," you groaned, planting your hands on the back of the couch and rocking your hips a little faster.

"How did you get like this, Baby Girl?" he whispered next to your ear, pressing the front of his body to your back as you rocked your pussy along, trying to find some satisfaction. "You're like a dog in heat," he groaned, squeezing your nipples.

"I know," you keened, head tossed back to give him access to your neck. "I'm ovulating."

"Oh, hell," he grunted. That was music to Bradley's ears as you bumped his hard cock with your ass every time you rolled your hips. "You need me to fuck you?" he asked softly, licking a stripe up your neck. "You need my cum?"

"Please, Daddy," you begged softly, but he could hear the desperation there. "Fuck me."

Bradley eased away from you and lifted you up a bit by your hips as you whined. "Aww, Sweetheart," he said, stroking his fingers along your ass down to your soaking wet pussy while he admired the wet spot on the couch. "You need me."

You looked back at him and nodded as he palmed your ass up in the air. "I need you, Daddy," you said, your voice breaking with tears in your eyes.

Bradley stroked your soft skin and asked, "Do you know how bad I want you knocked up?"

You nodded again, practically on the verge of tears. "I know it."

Bradley set you down gently on the arm once more, tipping you forward slightly so your clit was rubbing against the wet spot you made. Then he grabbed his cock as you wiggled your ass at him, just begging to have him fill you up.

"I got you," he promised, rubbing himself through your wetness. "I'll take care of everything."

With one steady thrust, he filled you and bottomed out. A sound of relief escaped you as you moaned, "Daddy." Bradley pulled you snug to him by your hips, and with each fluid thrust, he helped you rock your clit against the couch.

Bradley kept you going at a steady pace, fucking you nice and slow as he guided you along, praising you for being the perfect wife. "You always look so good for me. With your pretty pussy and that ass on display. You know how much I like coming home to find you ready for me?"

"Tell me," you whispered, starting to clench around him.

He kissed along your neck as you jerked yourself along a little faster. "I love it when you're waiting for me to fill you up. I love how needy you are."

Bradley knew you were close now, so he let you ride the arm of the couch and bump back along his length while he held himself still for you. And then you were cumming, shaking against his body, reaching back for his hands as you clenched around his cock and sobbed softly.

"You feel better?" he asked, still fucking you slow and steady. You were like a feral animal that only he was able to tame.

"So much better," you whispered, turning and licking his bicep. "You're all sweaty, Roo. You smell so good."

"Damn it," Bradley grunted. Now he was starting to feel slightly unhinged over you. His wife needed him so badly around the clock right now. He expected that your body would start to adjust to being off birth control, and this extreme need for him would start to ease up. But for now, he didn't mind one bit. And he wanted to keep you filled up with his cum until it took.

He slammed into you a little harder as you gazed lovingly at him over your shoulder. "You can do it, Daddy." He reached for your chin, grabbing you and kissing you a little rough.

"Oh, fuck." Then he was filling you before he collapsed against your back. Bradley ran his hands along your pristine skin, paying extra attention to your tits as he caught his breath. "I can't believe I found you riding the couch like this."

"Nothing would even take the edge off, Bradley. Just you."

He squeezed your tits and ran his nose behind your ear. "I love you. Next time, you call me. I drop everything for you whenever I can. You understand me?"

"Yes." Your voice was soft and calm now, and he could tell you were feeling much better.

"That's my girl." When he withdrew from your pussy, and his cum leaked out onto the arm of the couch, Bradley whispered, "Don't move."

He dug his phone out of his pocket and took some photos of you turning to look at him with a sweet, fucked out expression on your face and a messy pussy. He knew those images would keep him warm when he was deployed. Then he helped you stand right in front of him, and both of you admired the soiled arm of the couch together.

"Beautiful," Bradley murmured next to your ear, stroking his fingers along your belly and wishing.

He watched you run your finger through the mess before licking it and turning to kiss him. You traced his lips with your tongue and he tasted himself before you said, "I'll clean up the couch."

"No, you're going to go get in bed like a good girl. And after I clean up out here, I'll be ready to take the edge off for you again. Okay?"

You threw your arms around his neck and hugged him, and then he watched your ass as you headed to bed to wait for him to take care of you again.

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

Roo always takes care of his wife! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls.

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bedoballoons · 7 months

Note

I HAD THIS IDEA WHILE LISTENING TO "SAVAGE" im going back to my gacha phase

there's this one lyric

"Give me a reason to stay"

So sumeru boys getting into a fight w their s/o and they don't give her a chance to intervene and inform them that she had to move away from sumeru (for work or anything)

İ need angst

After that they don't talk for a few days and boom

They feel bad and decide's apologize their s/o only to find her home empty and catch her getting ready to leave sumeru that day! Wowie

Also grim reaper xiao is lookin fine 🤭

-💤

AHH that's so sad!! I love it!! Apologies for not answering sooner!! Thank you for your request and I hope you enjoy! <3

Why thankyou~

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Give me a reason to stay~༺}

CW: Angsty! Mentions of a past fight, characters beg you to stay, reader leaves anyway!

(Includes: Tighnari, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Wanderer, and Cyno!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Tighnari:

"I don't want to yell anymore!"

Tighnari covered his ears, his voice like a earthquake in his own head...and that look on your face, a horrid memory of the fight you had, he still didn't know what you were trying to tell him and now it has been days since you'd even said a word to him. If he had just listened...if the two of you had just talked...

"Stop..you're only beating yourself up, just go talk to them...apologize." He muttered to himself quietly, trying to find the courage to actually knock on your door after standing there for at least ten minutes...it was starting to seem like a lost cause. "Just knock...how will you ever make up other wise just kn-"

He got cut off mid sentence when the door suddenly swung open, revealing you with suitcases in your hands and your normal living room completely barren.."Tighnari? What...what are you doing here?" You looked away, unable to meet his eyes...you felt guilty for not telling him you were leaving, but he never gave you the chance..

"I-i wanted to apologize, I feel terrible about what happened...are...are you leaving? Where are you going?"

"Tighnari...I'm moving, out of Sumeru..."

"No...no wait don't move, I can apologize more, we can talk about this..."

"I..." You wanted to say something else, but your friend started calling out to you, warning you that if you didn't leave now you'd be late, "Thank you for apologizing Tighnari...I...I gotta go." He watched you hurry away and he just stood there, dumbfounded, like he'd just seen a ghost..a ghost of the relationship he held so dear to his heart...

𑁍༄Alhaitham:

Alhaitham sighed, standing in your yard with a perplexed expression...how had Kaveh actually talked him into this? He himself had no idea how to apologize...what to say to make up for the way he acted, the screaming and hurtful words...the tears that rolled down your cheeks when you stomped off...how did you fix something so emotional and serious?

He waited there for a couple more minutes, hoping to catch you walking out or getting home, but when that didn't work...he resorted to knocking. "Hello? Are...you in there? I...want to talk." He listened to your footsteps growing closer, remembering when you'd try to sneak up on him while he was reading and he'd always hear you...he just wanted things to go back the way they were..

The second you opened the door he knew the situation was far more serious than he had imagined, your things stored away in boxes...your suitcases packed, this wasn't some trip...you were leaving. "...You're moving?"

"I wanted to tell you..but we were fighting you didn't give me the chance."

"I don't want you to leave."

"It's to late Alhaitham..."

"Wait..." He tried to grab your hand...but the door closed in his face, with you on the other end trying to calm yourself...

𑁍༄Kaveh:

Kaveh held the flowers closer to his chest, knocking over and over on your door, praying that you'd open it...that you'd forgive him. He felt terrible, he couldn't eat or sleep, the only thing he could think about was your eyes..the tears that welled in them when he had raised his voice. Even flowers wouldn't be enough to fully forgive him and he knew that, but just...hearing your voice, seeing you...talking would help.

"Helloooo?" He leaned over, peeking into your window...his face going pale, all of your things... were gone? No that couldn't be right, had he gone to the wrong house somehow? He started to panick, peeking through other windows of previous residence....freaking out the neighbors, but mostly, finding that every room was the same. Any trace of you had vanished.

"Kaveh? What are you doing?"

His head snapped in your direction, his eyes lighting up at the sight of you, "You're not gone, thank gosh. I thought maybe you had moved away and I'd never see you again..."

"... Kaveh I am moving away."

"What...but why..."

"I have a business offer, to good to pass up...I was going to tell you, but everything happened and we were yelling...so I took it. I came back here to return the keys and saw everyone looking over here."

"...oh. Is there anyway I can..convince you to-"

"No Kaveh...I think...we need the time apart."

He took a step back, racking his brain for something to say...even as you walked away from him and it started to rain...he just...wanted a way to make you stay. Just a chance.

𑁍༄Wanderer:

Wanderer stood at your door, looking at it like it could jump at him any moment, he wanted to apologize, for the argument for everything but it was all just...so hard!, "Ughh! Why did I have to get into a stupid relationship, why did I have to like them...why...ugh...why do I have to love them....so much." He punched the wall, biting his lip as he knocked on your door, only for it to slowly creak open.

"Hey..I know you're probably still upset with me and I...deserve it, but I'm going to be pathetic and apologize, because...I don't want to loose...you?" He started speaking to you even though you were already gone, shocked to see the sight of your empty house. Realization hit him like a ton of bricks, "Shit."

He ran, flying over everything and anything that got in his way, he'd stop you. He would let you leave. No, he needed to apologize, to make you stay. "Wait! No wait!!" He called out to you, your eyes locking with his for just a moment...just a moment and then you got into the boat, while he stood there...

If he had a heart...it would have been broken...

𑁍༄Cyno:

For once, Cyno didn't feel like telling a joke... playing tcg, right now he just wanted to apologize, give justice where it was due. He wanted to explain his actions, he wanted you back...he wanted to be together again and stop the silence. He didn't even know how to start solving the argument, but he figured talking...would probably help, so thats how he had ended up on your doorstep, waiting patiently for you to open the door..

He knocked again...and again, but nothing. He was just about to turn around, convinced it was a lost cause, when suddenly a paper landed at his feet, his heart racing with excitement...this could be his chance to talk to you, although he want sure why you didn't just open the door instead...

He opened the letter despite that and as he read it...his heart sank,

Cyno,

I know I should just talk to you, but saying this... it would be to hard, to upsetting. Before we had started arguing, I had planned to tell you I was moving...family reasons. I'm...I'm sorry, I wish you could have had more of a warning, but as you read this I'm already making my way out the back door...

Goodbye..

He ran to the backside of the house, but you'd already left...he was alone, with nothing but a letter you'd wrote and a guilt he'd never be able to shake until he saw you again...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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algea · 29 days

Text

Ghoul School

prompt: you, Lucky, Phoebe, Trevor, and Lars go to investigate a spirit infested school, but ends badly for you.

Ummm basically enemies to lovers?? idrk tbh LOL

warnings: idk scary stuff? cussing! sexual tension! um you smoke 1 cigarette and thats it. GORE!!!!!!!

a/n: I’ve been thinking of this since I saw the movie…

*THIS IS A SUPER LONG STORY!!!*

“A school? Are you serious, Lars?” You mutter, running a hand down your face and sighing.

“I wish. What’s your grudge against a school anyway?” Lars said, cocking an eyebrow at you as he turned to look at you.

“Well I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that kids still go there. It makes me sick how they have to experience that while being in an environment where it’s supposed to be safe and welcoming.” You explain, tapping your fingers nervously on your desk. Behind you, Lars sighed,

“Well that’s why we’re going innit? So stop worrying about it so much.” You snapped your head when heard the door open. In trudged a slime covered Trevor, Lucky, and Phoebe.

“Lars, I need your help with something!” Lucky called. Lars stood and strode to her, his eyes lingered on you for a little longer than they should’ve. Trevor had a proton pack on his back, which was slightly smoking from the interior.

"Piece of shit only fizzed when we tried to turn it on, know a way to fix it?" Trevor asked, gazing up at Lars. Lars' face was stone cold, probably because he had to deal with the dumb shit Trevor stirred up.

"First off, it's not a piece of shit. Second off, did you even try to figure it out?" Lars scoffed, eyebrows drawn together in a scowl.

"Give it to me, I'll see what I can do." He sighed, obviously not wanting to deal with him anymore. Trevor basically shoved the proton pack into Lars’ arms, which didn't waiver when he received it. Hot. You thought. Lars trudged to his station and set the proton pack down. He removed the protective covering, and coughed when smoke blasted in his face. You snickered, which earned an unimpressed glare from him. Lucky appeared beside you, ready to talk about what else you've come up with her to test.

"What is it?" She asked, tinkering with the item on the desk.

"You know how there's buckshot for a shotgun? I've figured out how to compress protons into little pellets and create a buckshot-type stream." You explained, showing her how it would work on a sheet of paper. You heard Lars muttering about something, though you brushed it off. You handed Lucky a few pellets, which contained about 12 rounds of buckshot each. She eagerly shot off into the test room, excited to try it out. With nothing else to do, you shuffled behind Lars, peering over his shoulder to watch his hands work efficiently. Lars really didn't know you were there, truly he didn't. So when he turned around to go get something from his desk, he jumped back.

"Good Christ you scared the shit out of me!" Lars exclaimed, putting a hand on his chest and letting out a big sigh. He shoved his glasses back up his face and ran a hand through his hair.

"I'm sorry! I just wanted to watch you work..." You trailed off, staring at the ground in embarrassment.

"Well maybe next time maybe fucking keep to yourself." He snapped, brushing past you, his hand grazing yours. You just stood there, hands clenched and cheeks burning in embarrassment. Phoebe stood next to you, putting a hand on your arm and whispering,

"It's ok, really, he doesn't mean it."

You couldn't help the tear that slithered down your cheek. Blinking away the rest of the tears, you muttered an 'excuse me' and walked outside of the lab. Taking a left, you headed through the doors to the cool breeze outside. Stuffing your hand in you pocket, your hand found purchase on the cig case you had. Sliding one out of it and grabbing your lighter, you lit the cig up and shoved the lighter back into your left pocket. You sat against the wall and pulled your knees to your chest. Hearing the doors open, you see Trevor walk out. He spots you and slides down the wall, sitting next to you.

"It's not your fault. It really isn't." Trevor offered, watching you let out a sigh, smoke going with it. You laugh, dragging a hand down your face.

"Listen, don't ever fall in love, man. Shit sucks." You sighed, resting your head against the cool brick. Trevor started to say something but the rest of the three burst through the doors. Lars was wearing his red jacket, walking towards the car. Lucky was carrying yours in her arm, right on the heels of Lars. He spotted you and Trevor sitting down against the wall. Trevor hopped up, offering you a kind hand. You took it, cigarette still in hand.

"Put that shit out." Lars commanded, crossing his arms. You glared at him before taking a long drag and blowing the smoke out. You dropped the rest on the ground, twisting your foot against it which successfully put it out.

"Happy?" You huffed, throwing your arms out in surrender. He just stared at you before pushing past you to get to the car. 'Bitch' You mutter under your breath. God he’s insufferable. Following them, you hopped into the passage seat. Lucky handed you your red jacket, which you put on before you buckled up. You zipped it up all the way burying your face in the collar. Lars watched you from his peripheral, drumming his fingers on the wheel.

“Are gonna stare or drive the goddamn car?” You snapped, turning to gaze at him. His hand tightened on the wheel and started to drive.

To say that Lars was a good driver was a pretty big overstatement. You were even lucky you made it to the school alive, much less in once piece.

“You are never ever driving again, Lars.” You said, stumbling out of the car as a wave of nausea hits you.

“Stuff it.” He replied, pushing up his broken glasses. You turned your gaze to the school, which stood ominously in the distance. You shivered, which didn’t go unnoticed by Lars. He took a small step closer to you, his hand ghosting the small of your back. You jumped slightly at his feather touch, but relished it. Lars flicked on your switch, making your proton pack hum with the familiar ‘whirring’ sound. You walked to the front steps, pushing open the two massive double wooden doors. You were blasted by a cold air, which you stumbled back from.

“S-shit.” You muttered, hands shaking ever so slightly. You reached for your flashlight, but froze when you saw a shadow figure dart through the darkness.

“Lars.” You whispered, a lump forming in your throat. Lars was off busy helping the others get their packs on, which meant you were the only one at the front. You felt something tugging you forward. You stumbled back into the school following the tugging sensation to a room downstairs.

Lars looked up, about to ask you something, when he noticed you were gone.

“Where the bloody hell did Y/N go?” He asked, looking around. His question was answered when he heard your frantic screams coming from inside of the building. They all looked at each other, then bolted to the building.

The building was absolutely freezing. That you were certain of. The frigid temperature fucked a little with your head, at least that’s what you can conclude. You found that being able to see in the dark was not your forte, which caused you to fall down a flight of stairs.

“OH FUCKING SHIT—!” You screech, tumbling down the stairs. You landed with your head cracking against the cold floor. Groaning, you tried to lift your head, but you felt like you were spinning like a top. You eventually stood, swaying slightly after. You blinked a few times, holding your head in your hands. In the corner of your eye, you could see another shadow figure. It was tall, tall enough to reach the ceiling. It started to approach you, but you let out a scream, starting to run back up the stairs. You felt a push, then you tumbled back down the stairs, smashing your head into the pavement again. You landed on your knee, successfully snapping the bone in your shin. You let out another bloodcurdling scream, spitting out blood in the process.

You felt lightheaded as blood spilled from your shin and lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. You were in too much pain to cry as you crumpled to the floor again. You heard all three of them yelling your name, but you couldn’t yell back. Instead, you pulled yourself across the floor, leaving a long streak of blood as you went. With as much effort as you could muster, you pulled yourself to the steps. It took everything for you to scream,

“LARS!!!”

Footsteps could be heard, which sounded like heavy boots clomping towards you. You clawed at the steps, trying to grip anything that you could to pull yourself up. The blond man appeared in the doorway, shining a flashlight down the stairwell. Lars hair was tousled, eyes wide. You make out how he was panting, as well as a horrified look painted across his face.

“oh my god.” Was all he said. He rushed down the stairwell to get you. You couldn’t make out much of anything, you kept fading in and out of consciousness. His hands, his strong and elegant hands held your face as he tried to keep you awake. Your breaths became labored again as you felt extreme pain rippling through your limbs. You let out another scream, which was muffled by Lars chest as he picked you up and started to rush you outside. One of his hands found purchase in your hair, gently stroking it with his thumb as he ran to the car.

Lars felt like it took years to make it to the hospital. His red jacket was drenched in your blood, but he couldn’t care less about what he looked like as he rushed you into the ER. Immediately after, you were rushed into a room, where you would reside for God knows how long. Lars sat next to Lucky, his face grim. He didn’t care how long he had to wait to see you again, just as long as he could see you. Lars stayed there all night, into the morning to be able to see you. When they told him that he could see you, he ran to your room as fast as he could. There you laid, eyes closed, face peaceful. When you heard the footsteps, you opened your eyes and found the blond man standing in your doorway.

“Bloody hell, I thought I’d never see you again.” Lars breathed as he approached your right side. Your hand lay limp on the top of the bedsheet. He brought up a chair and sat, taking your hand and lacing his fingers with yours.

“I was so scared that you were going to die, I couldn’t bear to see it.” He further explained. You smiled weakly and croaked,

“Are you being nice right now? That’s so unlike you Lars.”

Before you said anything else, Lars pressed a kiss to your lips. It wasn’t your ideal first kiss with him, but you relished the feeling.

“I didn’t save you because I thought it was the good thing to do, I saved you because I love you.” Lars whispered, his nose brushing yours.

“God I love you too, Lars.” You whispered back.

#ghostbusters frozen empire #ghostbusters x reader #ghostbusters #lars pinfield x reader #lars pinfield #james acaster #lars pinfield x you

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xan-izme · 9 months

Text

Dubble Life (ACTSV x Reader x Batfam) 3

A/n: I forgot to mention that the universe reader is in is earth-42. So, the Prowler is Miles, but he switches with Aaron here and there. and reader has the same last name as Miles.

Part 2, Part 4

Summary: Life with the Waynes so far was pretty good. Damian is still being a brat, so reader decides to be a good big sister. Someone from the past shows their face. In the need of readers help, for Spider-woman.

"I win!" Tim couldn't help but smirk in triumph. You stare at the 'Game over' on your screen. "Nah, nah. You gotta be cheating! Bro what is this!" This was the third time you have lost street fight with Tim.

"You two are acting like children." Damian spoke, watching two play video games for almost 2 hours. You rolled your eyes and gave Damian a look. "Cuz we are. You're like what, 9?" Tim chuckled as he packed his things.

"I am 12!" Damian argued. "Boy, like that makes any difference." Damian began to argue with you, you just stared down at him an announced you were getting a drink from the kitchen. You poured yourself a drink. Suddenly, your Spidey senses were warning you. You quickly turn around, just to see Damian. You scoffed.

It was funny how your Spidey senses always acted up when it came to Damian. You wondered if he wanted to hurt you so you couldn't take the Wayne throne. You turned back and continued to take a gulp from your cup. you paused for a moment before glancing to Damian you was eating a snack that Alfred made.

You thought that maybe the reason that you two haven't fully gotten along was due to both of you not even trying. So why not be the bigger person and try to be nice.

You slide yourself to the table Damian was at and set yourself in front of him. The boy frowns as he sees the smirk you had.

"What do you want, you bug."

You couldn't help but chuckle at that. If only he really knew.

"Look, demon. I think we haven't really gotten the chance to bond as siblings." You leaned in with a smile. Damian looked at you with distaste. "Did father put you up to this? What are you planning Davies?"

"No, I ain't planning nothing. What's wrong with wanning to hang out with you?" You arched your brow and leaned back into your chair. Damian sighed "I don't have time for you. I have work to do. So, if you'll excuse me." Damian stood from his chair and walked away.

"Alright, if you change your mind my door is open!" Literally, you leave your door open sometimes. You just forget to close it. A habit to try and get rid of.

After a few days. Damian did come to your room.

"Oh, look who's here. Is there something my little demon needs? hugs, kisses? whatever sisterly love can provide?" You smirked as you watched him give you a look of disgust.

"I don't want your useless affection. Father wants us to go with him to a meeting. Please wear something that doesn't look like a Hippe made it." With that, Damian walked out. He paused and took a glance of a picture you had hung on the wall; it was of a woman. Your mother no doubt.

You sighed and got yourself ready. Wondering why the hell Bruce wanted you to come along.

"Hey Alfred. Do you know why Bruce needs me at the meeting today?" you asked. Alfred handed you a drink you requested for

"It is a meeting at the Wayne enterprise. You will mistily be there to observe the working environment and understand what the Wayne family is about." Alfred escorted you down and helped you fix your dress up, so it was perfect.

Bruce couldn't help but smile as he watched you come down those stairs in one of the dresses Dick picked for you.

Once you reached the bottom, Bruce took your hand into his "You look beautiful."

Your smiled. Your smile faltered.

Remembering the time, your mother had a date with some man you didn't approve of.

It was cold out. Your mother was going to be with a man named Jim Bolton. You were happy she was happy. But you didn't trust this Jim guy. You asked, practically begged your uncle Jeff to do a background run on the man.

Jim was married at the age of 22, awfully young. He got divorced and has two daughters 3-4 years younger than you. he also had 3 DUI's. Your mother has told you he doesn't drink anymore. But you still didn't like him.

You watched your mother walk down the stairs, with a red dress on, her hair fixed up. Shinny jewels on. She looked amazing. You already saw her as a goddess, this just added onto the beauty you already saw in her. You couldn't help but look at her fondly.

"Okay, remember to lock all the doors. Your uncle Aarons going to be here in an hour to watch you and- . . . what?" Your mother noticed that small smile on your face. You were being silent. Just staring at her.

You chuckled and held her hands to yours "Nothing. . . you just look beautiful."

You missed her. You've been trying to not think too much of her. Not think of the time you two spent. Not think of her hugs. Her smile, her voice.

You have night terrors of what happened that day. At times you stay awake, too scared to close your eyes. Afraid to see every wrong thing you've done as a daughter. You make it worse for yourself by calling her number, only to hear no answer.

The Wayne building was big. Many people in uniforms rushing too somewhere. Rushing to get work done, rushing to get home.

You walked beside Damian. He has been quite this whole time. You wonder what was making your dear little weirdo so silent.

You sat in one meeting with Bruce and Damian. It was rather boring. But you did think Bruce was cool with the way he took over. Bruce had two other meetings that suddenly came up. He was going to take the two of you downtown to look around, get something to eat. Go to the movies even.

"It's alright. Me and De- Damian can go and hang around with Alfred. Can get a little Sibling bonding out of it." You held yourself back from calling the boy, demon. Almost let it slip for a second there.

Bruce liked the sound of that. When he agreed, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Bruce isn't the best with affection, but you have been doing these little gestures, hugging, the kisses on the cheek. You would even do the occasional 'I love you's Bruce is starting to think that you might just be getting closer to him. So, he buys you more things.

Sometimes you decline so he just gives you money.

Damian rolled his eyes as you dragged him to the car. Alfred Started the car and you two were now going to be closer than ever. Well, you hope.

"So, little brother, you have anyone that has cached your interest?"

Damian frowns "That is none of your business."

"I see, you must really her then. Or him, I don't discriminate on who you love." You felt a smirk creep up when you catch a glimpse of the look on the young boy's face. It just felt so fun toying with him like this.

"I don't have time for something like dating. Stop talking, you're giving me a migraine." Damian did visibly look tired of you, which made it even more enjoyable for you.

The first few weeks that you came to the manor. This boy has been activating the need for violence. You can't just cuss him out and flip him off like you did with Miguel.

You can tell Damian ain't stupid. He's sharp and very aware of his surroundings. One slip up and your done for. So, you decide to do what you did best.

Be annoying.

Damian ignores you more when you act like that. On top of that, you loved the reactions you got out of him.

You and Damian went to a music shop where they had those old timey records that you liked.

"Why do you need these things. You know you can listen to music like this on your phone, right?" Damian watched as you picked up a record and held it like it was precious. The most fragile thing in the world.

". . .The neighborhood I used to live in. Was loud. I could hear screaming, gun shots. And other things I wasn't supposed to hear." You gently put the record down and continued to walk down the aisle. Damian and Alfred followed behind.

"One night, there was a gang fight right outside. I got so scared. I ran into her room crying. She played a song. . ." You found a song you haven't seen in a while and grabbed it.

"She held me. . . and said, 'son solo sondios, mi amor.' and told me to listen to the music. Let that be the only thing you hear." You let yourself laugh, remembering at how much you cried.

"So, that's what I do. Instead of listening to sounds that give me fear. I listen to these."

Damian watched you happily go through the records.

Damian scoffed to himself. It was the first time he saw a real smile from you. Of course, you smile a lot. But everything was fake. You were putting on a facade. He didn't like fake people.

Lying all the time. People who lie, can't be trusted. And you lie a lot. he knows. You just haven't been caught yet.

But that, what you just did. You were actually being real. You don't seem too bad. For a bug.

"What's this?" Damian spoke up when he picked up a record that had big words on it with a blue background.

"Oh, Boney M. I love these guys." You know Uncle Aaron had full blown collocations of the band.

You looked down to see the look of confusion on Damians face. "Oh, my Go- Come on man. You really don't know these guys?"

"No, should I? . . . My mother wasn't like yours." Damian mumbled. He sets down the record. You stared at him, then glanced to Alfred. You don't know much about Damian's mother. Just that she left him with Bruce.

Due to the boy's uptight attitude, you assume his mother was strict. And based on Alfreds expression, she probably wasn't the best.

You put your hand on his shoulder. "Let's go watch a movie. Yeah?"

The movie was a comedy, it was funny to you. Even more funny that Damian couldn't understand the jokes in the movie. Just watching you laugh so much just because he wasn't understanding the jokes, Damian couldn't help but laugh himself.

"I liked the ending." Damian spoke as you two exited out the theater. "What? for real? . . . why? The ending was kind of butt." You say, Wanting to know why Damian actually liked the ending.

"Well, the main character, Lisa. She found out she was being played by that Moses guy. Even if he caught feelings for her at one point, he didn't have those feelings when he went with that dare. When he kissed her at the prom as some stupid form of an apology, she just slapped him. She knew her worth."

You just stared in utter disbelief. You couldn't help but giggle, then burst out laughing.

"What? Why are you always laughing!'' Damian was scolding you as you continued to laugh and try to explain why you were laughing.

Suddenly you felt your Spidey senses go crazy. Thats when an explosion was heard.

"Oh shi-"

people started running in panic. "It's joker. . ." You heard Damian mumble. You quickly grab Damians hand and try to get to the car where Alfred was parked. Damian let you drag him. So many people were crowding up in a panic.

Damian looked up at you, then to the multiple explosions Joker was dropping. Hearing his damn laugh echo. He was putting his Job as Robin first. And let your hand go. You felt him let go. You quickly turn around. Panic sets in you. You called out his name as you tried to shove people away so you could get through.

"DAMIAN!" You tried to help a few people who got hurt by the falling rubble around them. But all you could think of was Damian. You kept calling the boy's phone. But it would go straight to voicemail. You cussed multiple times.

You went back into the theaters, calling out for Damian, asking anyone if they had seen a little boy come back in.

You didn't know he had left to fulfill his role as Robin.

You were currently in an alleyway. Trying to get to Damian on the phone, no answer. You try to contact Bruce, you lost service. You got frustrated and decided to just run around like an idiot to try and look for the boy.

But you accidentally ran into someone and knock them down.

"Oh no. I'm so sorry Ma'am. Are you alright?" You were quick to help the girl up.

"Thanks. . . you look good, Y/n."

You paused. Who was this? how did she know your name. Your look of confusion started to fade as you recognized the voice. You began to step back.

The girl fully showed her face. Starring you right in the eyes.

"Gwen?"

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tag list: @lockofspades @redsakura101 @ruby-izo

#miguel o'hara #miles morales #atsv x reader #gwen spiderverse #x daughter!reader #damian wayne #bruce wayne x daughter!reader #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #batfam x reader #batfam x batsis #tim drake #dick grayson #spoderverse

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sailortongue · 8 months

Text

"Baking with my boyfriend!"

pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

wc: 1.6k

summary: you run a popular baking vlog, and after a Q&A video where you said your boyfriend helped you eat all the delicious things you baked, the people demanded a bf reveal

------

“Hi guys!” You waved at the camera enthusiastically. “In honor of the upcoming fall season, today I’m going to be showing you how to bake pumpkin bread!” You were practically sunshine incarnate when you were filming for your viewers, but today was special and you were even more cheery than usual.

The last video you did was a Q&A and apparently many viewers were very curious about what you do with all the baked goods you make because surely you don't eat all of that yourself. You’d laughed, pleased to tell them that you share everything with your lovely boyfriend, and, if you made a particularly large batch of something, then he’d take them to work for his coworkers.

You hadn’t thought much of it, but when you read through the comments it was flooded with requests for a boyfriend reveal. You’d immediately called Spencer into the living room, excitedly asking him if he’d film a video with you. How could he possibly say no to you when you were looking at him with those pleading eyes? He caved embarrassingly quickly, but frankly he’d do anything if it meant that beautiful smile would continue to be directed at him.

And so here you were, standing in your kitchen with Spencer and getting the ingredients and supplies assembled. Now, as much as you loved him, there was a reason he’d never been in one of your videos before: that man was a klutz in the kitchen. For all his intelligence, he couldn't bake a cake to save his life.

Spencer, bless his heart, had neglected to place the eggs in a bowl and accidentally knocked one off the counter, sending it to splat onto the floor. You glanced at the cracked egg slowly seeping across the floor and then back up to Spencer, a grin teasing the edge of your lips. He did the same as you, and as you both made eye contact the tension broke, both of you bursting into laughter.

“I’ll clean it up,” he said sheepishly. “And get another egg.”

You chuckled and continued with your instructions. “Once Spence gets that taken care of, then we’ll have everything we need to start. As usual, we’re going to preheat the oven while we prepare everything. This particular recipe says 325℉ but if any of you would like to bake this at home, there is a note at the bottom of the recipe. It says that if you're using a one pound loaf pan instead of a 9x5, then it may come out underbaked, and if you feel like you need to add more time to it then you should bake at 350℉ instead.”

You felt Spencer’s presence return to your side, this time placing the eggs in a bowl to prevent any more mishaps. He bent down and kissed the top of your head as his way of apologizing. You reciprocated the action and got on your tippy toes to kiss his chin since it was the closest you could get.

Continuing with the recipe, you put Spencer in charge of the streusel topping since it was the most straight forward. You were confident that even with his lacking baking skills he’d be able to do it. You were promptly proven wrong.

“Wow, I’m impressed,” you said.

“Really?” he asked excitedly, ever eager to please you.

“Very. I think you got more flour on the counter than in the bowl.”

He threw his head back and groaned. “Oh come on, it's not that bad.”

“Whatever you say, hun. Can you put it in the fridge?”

He nodded, and you turned your attention back to the camera. “And now for the star of the show we’re going to start on the batter!” As you spoke animatedly and explained every step of the process, Spencer was watching you with rapt attention, a small smile fixed on his face.

Occasionally you’d ask him to measure out some of the ingredients and put them in. You’d had to correct him that the brown sugar had to be packed in, but other than that there was no way he could mess up. The only notable thing that happened was his insistence on tasting the vanilla extract. How could something that smelled so good taste so bad? He was going to learn the hard way and there was nothing you could do to spare the stubborn man. You had practically doubled over with laughter when his expression instantly changed to one of profound disgust. He rushed to the kitchen sink, trying in vain to spit out the vile liquid.

He was positively green when he looked back over at you. “Why would you let me do that?”

Taking pity on him, you poured him a glass of water and handed it to him. “Here, swish.”

He took it gratefully and did as you said. “Thank you. Lesson learned. Vanilla extract is a liar.”

“Would stirring make it better?” you asked, offering the whisk to him.

“No, but licking the batter might.”

You shrugged, “Your loss.”

With your attention back on the camera, Spencer took the opportunity to stand behind you, placing his hands on your hips and watching you mix the dry ingredients into the wet ones from over your shoulder. He took advantage of the close proximity and placed a tender kiss on your temple. You were practically melting on the spot at how domestic everything felt.

“Ok, so with that all mixed up the next thing we have to do is pour it into a greased loaf pan and then sprinkle the streusel on top.” You turned your face to the side, “Hey, hun, can you get the streusel from the fridge?” He hummed in affirmation, leaving you to pour the batter, intentionally leaving a bit more than you usually would to make up for Spencer’s unfortunate experience with the vanilla.

He resumed his position at the counter, standing next to you this time. He was eyeing the bowl with the leftover batter, being very obvious about what he wanted. You giggled. “Trade?” Without a word, he snatched the bowl and handed you the cold one with the topping. As you were sprinkling it onto the top, Spencer was busying himself with licking the spatula.

“Perfect!” you exclaimed when you were done. “Now all that’s left is to put it in the oven for an hour and twenty minutes.” After closing the oven door, you turned to see Spencer scraping more of the batter from the bowl and onto the spatula. You also noticed that some of it was smeared around the corners of his lips. You huffed a breath out through your nose, finding him utterly adorable. You grabbed a rag from the drawer and ran it under the faucet. You walked over to Spencer and he spoke before you could do anything. “If the batter is anything to go by, then the bread will be delicious.”

“Of course it will. I think it'll be one of the best, just because you helped me with it.” He beamed at you. “That was cheesy, but cute.”

“C’mere,” you said, placing your hand on his cheek and adjusting his face so he’d look straight at you. You brought up the hand with the wet rag, wiping his face. He laughed and took the rag from you, using it to clean the stickiness from his hands as well.

Now that there was nothing to do but wait for the pumpkin bread to finish baking, you stopped recording and set about cleaning the mess you two had made.

With both of you working together, the kitchen was pristine in no time. You decided you’d go ahead and start editing the footage you already had, and by the time you had it looking as aesthetic as always, the oven timer went off. You gasped excitedly, hopping off the couch where you were sitting next to Spencer. You quickly slipped on a pair of oven mitts and took it out to cool.

Thirty minutes later and you began recording again. “I wish y’all could smell my kitchen right now,” you started. “Smells so good. Like cinnamon and pumpkin goodness.”

You cut two slices of the loaf, one for each of you. Spencer took a bite before you did and groaned. “It's so good,” he said.

“Better than the batter?” you teased.

“Definitely.”

You took your own bite and reacted just as he had. It really was tasty. “10/10. You guys should definitely make this at home! It’s perfectly moist and pumpkin-y and the streusel topping adds a lot of texture. I hope you all enjoyed this video and I’ll see you next time! Bye!” You waved at the camera before stopping the footage.

There wasn’t much editing that needed to be done since the second take was just a review of the dessert, so you had the video uploaded shortly after, titling it "Baking with my boyfriend!"

You were both splitting a second slice when you started getting notifications on the video. Spencer placed the plate down on the coffee table and got comfy next to you, putting his arm around you and pulling you close. You leaned into his side and opened the app to read the incoming comments.

“#relationshipgoals”

“You two are so cute!”

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Can we reply?” asked Spencer. You nodded and handed him your phone.

“Does he have a twin brother? 👀”

“Sorry, @user but no, I don’t.”

“Homeboy is so down bad”

“According to Yn, that means I’m infatuated with her. Yes, I am.”

“Omg his HANDS”

“Thank you? I guess?”

You laughed at his reply to the comment about his hands.

“Did yall see the way they look at each other? 🥺”

“Lmao see if he’ll try cacao powder”

Spencer looked at you after reading the cacao powder comment. “Is cacao powder also a liar?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It tastes just like chocolate.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid

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maryangelex · 1 month

Note

Please, please, please.

I am requesting an Ex!husband John price/ Fem!reader, where they divorce and he’s absolutely devastated by it, grovels and upset that he lost the love of his life, and then years later by circumstances are in force proximity with each other and have to deal with communicating all their grievances and then bam heated smut and pent up frustrations at each other, and then get back together.

Thank you so much and I really appreciate you! But it’s also okay if you skip my request :)

a/n: anon how could i possibly leave this delectable prompt unanswered!!?!?!?! i have literally been saving this one for almost last because i need to use 110% of my prune brain its so amazing. one thing about me is...im a whore for ex-husband!price *clutches pearls* im sorry for making ya wait, i hope you love it!!!

this is gonna be a long one!

c/w: ex-husband!price, make-up sex, forced proximity, quickie, against a wall, p in v, creampie, john price yearns for his pretty wife

It hadn't been easy, no divorce is easy, really. Much less when it was something you didn't really want to do, but more so saw yourself as needing to do. The nights without John had gotten too lonely, his side of the bed had gotten too cold. You thought the times he was back would make up for the times he wasn't. When John came back from deployment it felt like a coin toss: sometimes it was your honeymoon all over again, but other times he was cold and distant.

You had two kids in tow; two kids that needed their father. You were a wife that needed her husband just as much. You don't blame him for not being there of course. After all, you owed it all to him; all you ever wanted he got for you, he provided you a house to raise your children in, to grow old in. He gave you nothing but unconditional love. That's what made everything harder when you decided you couldn't do this anymore. You couldn't keep hoping he'd come home to be his normal self every time just to be met with the shell of the man you fell in love with.

You knew it wasn't his fault, you knew his line of work. But having to be alone the majority of the year plus having to still be alone when he was around had gotten to you, it had become too much. And John knew this. When you told him through sobs and wails that you couldn't do this anymore, that you felt hopeless and alone and like this was the only remedy, he understood. He had packed his things and left without a fuss, leaving you the house and renting an apartment barely a drive away. He tried to make it as simple as possible, arranging to stay with the kids every weekend and more if you needed time for yourself. His silence and compliance to separate felt like more of a dagger in your chest than the reason to separate to begin with. You wished he had fought for you, that he had yelled at you and argued with you to stay and fix this.

Little did you know that when he found himself in the empty single-bedroom apartment he rented himself he did nothing but cry like a neglected child for hours until his eyes stung and couldn't physically push out any more tears. John Price was a man made of stone and yet he found himself clutching his chest as he sobbed for his wife nearly every night and every lonesome morning. He kicked himself for not fighting for you, as well. He blamed himself for having to come to this in the first place, for leaving you alone and not knowing how to cope well enough to be the very best of himself when he came back from grueling missions. For not being able to look you in the eyes after losing a man, for not being able to open up to you and cry like this in front of you when he needed to let it out of his chest, for not making love to you like a tending husband should at his wife's every whim.

He felt like the consequences of choosing his career had finally caught up to him, and losing you was his penance.

The two of you finalized your divorce quietly and without struggle, feeling like it only drove the knife deeper into your chest. You settled on the kids seeing John every other weekend and he'd be more than welcome back home to be present as their father. Because that was the thing about John: he may have not seen himself as a good man (not good enough for you, for sure) but you both knew he was the best father your kids (and you) could ever ask for.

It's been a year since your divorce; John had been living in his separate flat whilst you and the kids stayed home. He'd come every week, and take the kids every other weekend. Now your oldest's birthday was a few days away and who were you to deprive him of coming? After he had been doing such a good job at not crossing your boundaries, at being a loving father and giving you every bit of warmth and kindness and love that he gave you when you were still together...the more you listed these things the more your heart ached and you doubted yourself. The more you realized you still loved him.

On the day of your kid's birthday, he made sure to get there extra early to help you set up the place. He bought the necessary supplies, picked up the cake from the bakery, and set up the chairs and balloons. Hell, you barely lifted a finger. And of course, he was more than happy to do everything and anything for you with that cheek-pulling smile of his. As the party went on and the house filled with guests and wild kids running about, you scrambled around the house to make sure no one needed anything. That's when John intervened.

"Everythin' alright, hon? Been runnin' round the house like mad," his voice was sweet like honey as he entered the garage, where you were taking out can after can of soda from the spare fridge and into the cooler with ice you brought with you. You didn't turn to look at him as you sighed in exasperation, but you could feel John just a few steps behind you.

"Just making sure everyone's got something to drink...the sodas've run out in the cooler outside and--"

"Everyone's havin' a good time, love," John cut off your rambling with a light chuckle, the rumbling of his voice making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. He interjected by taking the cooler from your hands "Let me get that for you," he said, lifting the heavy plastic for you. You sighed again and brought the back of your hand to rub your forehead. You finally looked up to meet his eyes, which were gazing at you with so much adoration it made your stomach twist.

"John..." you started, and he responded with a furrow of his brows and a silent question. "Please don't look at me like that."

"Like what?" he asked.

"Like you still love me," you blurted, and the beat your heart skipped let you know you physically regretted saying that, instantly.

John's lips pressed into a thin line as he paused for a moment in silence.

"I do still love you," he confessed. You shook your head in disbelief and scoffed.

"John, please, it's our kid's birthday," you dismissed as you turned on your heel and made your way to the door except-

Right, you now remembered why it was a rule in your house this past year to not close the garage door: the lock was busted. You gripped the knob firmly and gave it one, two, three harsh tugs, hoping to somehow force the door open. You banged the door with your fist in frustration, hoping maybe someone heard it on the other side but all you heard was the music playing on the other side.

"Let me have a go," John said, placing the cooler down and tugging just as harshly, even slamming his shoulder against it to see if it would budge, but nothing. You and John were trapped in your garage. You let out a groan and a quiet curse as you pinched the bridge of your nose with a hand on your hip.

John placed a hand on your bicep. They were cold from the ice but the squeeze and rubbing of his thumb on your skin was filled with warmth.

"S'alright, take a breather, hon," he said tenderly, "they'll miss us soon enough to come lookin' in here."

You nodded as you stepped away from his touch. You never stopped John from still using terms of endearment for you, it never felt like a big deal. You were frustrated from the party, the perfectionist in you wanting nothing but to give your kids the best party, and now you were locked up in the garage. To make matters worse, you were locked up in here with your ex-husband who just said he still loves you.

"I meant what I said, love," his voice was barely a whisper but it still brought you out of your thoughts.

"John..." you warned.

"No, I mean it," his tone rose, firmer this time, "I still fuckin' love you, baby."

"Well, it's too late for that now, isn't it? You're gonna make an effort now, John, a year later?"

John was silent, pleading blue eyes gazing at you, the muscles in his jaw tensing.

"You didn't fight for us, John. You didn't fight for me." your finger pointed to your chest firmly as you looked back at him with tear-filled eyes.

"I know, baby, I know," his voice shook in his throat, "I should've fought for us... I should've been a better husband to you, better dad for the kids I-- I should've just been there."

You were quiet as you choked on a quiet sob, the tears escaping down your cheeks.

"I haven't stopped loving you for a second, my only regret in life is not having fought harder for you, having let go of you so easily - fuck," you watched the tears prick his eyes as he stepped closer to you. His palm came to cup your cheek and his thumb wiped away the tear staining your cheeks.

"I failed you. I just...please, baby, I just want one more chance to be a better man for you... I just want my girl back." His tone was soft as if he was reciting a prayer kneeling at a pew. His other hand came to the other side of your face, tucking your hair behind your ear before it cupped your other cheek alike.

You sobbed and brought your hands up to his wrists, shaking your head lightly, knowing all you really wanted was to forgive him despite your denial.

His forehead pressed against you as he whispered once more, "Please, baby..."

"John..." you tried

The tip of his nose rubbed against yours, "Please," he repeated, "be my pretty wife again...be mine again, yeah?" His lips brushed against yours and his hands were firm on your cheeks. You sobbed one more time before his lips pressed against yours, slotting together like two pieces of a puzzle. And fuck, you melted as your lips met.

His lips against yours just felt so right; they were your husband's lips, after all. They were made for yours and yours were made for his, that's why you knew you were so perfect for each other. The way he kissed you made your chest break into a million pieces because you just missed him so much.

The hold on his wrists became limp and you didn't resist - you couldn't resist his kiss because you wanted it so desperately, you've wanted it for this entire past year.

Your mouth moved with his, lips clashing and caressing against each other, teeth clicking together with the force of your desperate kisses, your tongues hungrily pressing their way into each others' mouths. John's hand slid to the back of your head, fingers snaking into your hair and raking through your scalp. You hummed into his mouth at the feeling.

Your hands slid up his back, balling into fists over his shoulder blades and gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you'd lose him again if you didn't hold him firm enough. You held him impossibly close to you as he did the same, your bodies familiarly molded to each other.

You felt John step forward as he still kissed you, backing you up into the nearest wall and it made the heat in your core ignite like a bonfire. When you felt the cold wall against your body, you pried your mouth away from his to gasp a breath but it wasn't half a second later before he captured your lips again. His hands slid down the frame of your body, pawing at your chest and curves before eagerly bunching up the skirt of your dress around your hips. You scrambled to his belt, clumsily and hurriedly doing your best to unbuckle it and undo his pants.

He scoured under your dress to tug your underwear down your thighs with messy urgency. His lips sloppily and wetly trailed up and down your chest and neck before finding their way back to your mouth.

Your hand palmed his hardened length through his boxers and he groaned into your mouth. One of his hands took hold of yours and stuffed it in his boxers to stroke his aching cock as you both panted between kisses.

"All yours, darling," he groaned as he guided your hand stroking his cock, "forever fuckin' will be yours."

And you whined at his words, or maybe at the way his other hand snaked between your legs, fingers wetting themselves with the slick pooled between your folds before pressing into your hole. He pumped his fingers in and out, making you reminisce on how those thick digits have made you feel so good in the past.

You moaned his name like a prayer, pleading for him to fuck you because you needed him. You've needed him for a fucking year and couldn't wait a second longer.

John would give you anything and everything, he always has. So he wasted no time in removing his fingers from your pussy, coating his cock in the slick they collected, and using his other hand to hike your leg up around his waist.

You braced yourself against the wall and with your hands against his shoulders as he practically lifted you off your feet and insert his girthy, swollen cock inside of you. You moaned unabashedly at the way he split you open as he bottomed out.

"So perfect...my perfect wife," he breathed, "made just for me, baby." His fingers dug into the flesh of your thigh and you were sure it would bruise the same way your nails clawing through his shirt were sure to leave crescents on his skin.

John pumped his cock in and out of you slowly but firmly for a few strokes before picking up the pace. His rhythm was relentless as he fucked up into you, pistoning his hips and making your skin clap against each other.

You threw your head back as you whined and moaned at the feeling of the head of his cock bullying against your cervix. Thank god for the music outside.

John hiked up your other leg, wrapping both around his waist as he fucked you against the wall hard and needy. His eyes looked deep into your teary ones, not breaking away to not miss the gorgeous sight of his pretty wife getting fucked by him after so long. He moaned at just the look on your face, at the way your walls gripped him like a vice.

"Look at you... never lettin' go of somethin' so beautiful," he practically slurred, his rhythm becoming sloppy and desperate as he chased his high, and he knew you were close too.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and took his mouth into another starved kiss. Your hands tugged at the hair on the back of his head and you let him fuck you with the same longing and desire as the first time.

You chanted his name between breathy moans as you climbed up to your climax. John was a mumbling mess of endearments and sweet nothings as he kept thrusting hard and sloppy into your squelching pussy.

"I love you, John," you choked out through tears, not knowing if it was from the pleasure he was giving you or from the overwhelming emotion being with your husband again was making you feel.

"I fuckin' love you more, dove," he accentuated his words with thrusts until he felt your walls clamp around his length and watched as you wailed and sobbed out more moans, sending him into his own climax with just a few more pumps shortly after. You were sure you'd bear him a third child with the way his cum seeped out of you.

He rested his sweat-coated forehead against yours as you both panted. You were a flushed mess against the wall, limbs liquefied and throat raw. John slowly let you down with the utmost care in the world, gently holding you up on your feet like you were a delicate porcelain doll.

You held each other close as he peppered soft kisses on your face, the same way he'd always done after sex when you were married. John Price, always the gentleman.

You basked in the afterglow as you gazed at each other, love filling John's wide dark pupils. It was hard for you to hide the smile that tugged at your lips and it made John chuckle, thumb rubbing your cheek lovingly.

Then, you heard the rattling of the door and you quickly stood up straight and collected yourself up on your feet the best you could. Kyle, or Uncle Gaz as your kids coined him, and the other two men had burst through the lodged garage door.

"Oi, how long you two been locked here?" he questioned.

"Aye, we been callin' youse for half 'n hour," the Scott quipped behind him.

John scolded them for not acting quicker if they were so worried, and scowled at the way the younger two had shit-eating grins plastered on their faces. He dismissed them as he picked up the cooler, which was now more full of water than ice, and shot you a look.

You chided at his smirk with your bright red cheeks.

"This mean I can move back in?" he teased.

"We'll see, John" you fought back a smile.

#cod mw2 #call of duty mwii #cod fanfic #fanfic #john price #anon ask #anon request #thanks anon!#price mw2 #captain john price #captain price #price #price x reader

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simplymarr · 25 days

Text

Chapter one.

summary: vincent renzi x fem!reader.

A young law student is navigating her last year in university, where she meets a misteryous french professor that is going to help her getting her thesis done. A strong chemistry and a love for books and hard work it's what gets them to work so well with each other. But how much are they going to resist when temptation arrives?

warnings: age gap (legal ofc) he's 43 and she's 26. Other that that, none (yet).

London. 8 am and a room full of people on a rainy day. Cold fingers on the desk, waiting for something to happen.

I looked over and the clock was still; maybe it was broken or maybe the time was way too slow in the morning. Even for me.

Today it was the last-first day i was going to have on that university. Five long years studying law, yet it felt like i was still a stranger in that big, cold classroom.

I was, finally, going to get my thesis done. No more wasting time, no more fear. I had to be strong.

How difficult could it be?

The world with its unique, hidden irony seemed to have answered my question when, all of a sudden, he walked through that old, wooden door.

Mature, maybe in his early forties. Tall but not too much; quite skinny. Long neck and serious countenance. Silver hair, some strands fell on his forehead as he walked across the room until he reached his desk. His polished clothes didn't look wet even though it was raining, and even for me to be so far away from him i could, somehow, sense that he smelled like cigarrettes and old fashioned, classic cologne.

Professor Vincent Renzi was his name.

He came from France. He said that he had recently won a case in the city, and that a colleague of his needed him to replace him for a few months at the university. A two-hour weekly class and, most importantly,

he was in charge of correcting some of the theses.

I hesitated the rest of the class, unsure of what was going to happen. Would he be easy on me? or would he be an idiot? After all, all male professors in law school seemed to treat women like they were not smart enough to be there. Or worse, like they fucked their way to the top.

Suddenly my feet stepped on earth again when i felt a deep voice making, in a strong french accent, a question that no one dared to answer.

"So, has anyone already started working on their thesis?"

Silence.

Then, for inertia or maybe an obscure, unconscious desire to be seen by his blue eyes i raised my hand.

He smiled at me; perhaps relieved that he hadn't been ignored. Little wrinkles formed on each side of his mouth as he spoke:

"Great, at least someone is doing their job. Now, enlighten me, please".

........................................

I tried to leave as soon as the class ended.

Maybe it was the shame, the blushed cheeks as i explained to him the central themes of the thesis. For the first time, i felt like my tongue wasn't mine as the words kept coming out of my mouth, but i felt grateful for that.

However, due to how far away i was from the exit, i was the last one to leave. I slid between each seat until i reached the door where, luckily for me, he was standing, waiting.

"That was good. Very good actually". He said as he reached out for a pack of cigarettes between his pockets.

I stuttered.

"Well, thank you. There's still some issues i need to fix, you know. References and stuff". I tried, without luck, to sound as calm as possible.

"That's why im here". He said, staid but in a soft tone.

As he left the building and got into his car, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear and lighting a cigarette, i couldn't help but wonder

what the hell was i getting into.

next chapter soon

#vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi #swann arlaud #swann arlaud fanfic #anatomy of a fall

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echobx · 13 days

Text

not my type 2 - Rafe Cameron x plus size!fem!reader

summary: Rafe comes to visit you unexpectedly and things don't quite go like you want them to

warnings: swearing, smut (p in v (unprotected), reverse cowgirl, missionary (it just happened, I can't explain it), fingering (semi-public), dirty talk, edging)

word count: 3.7k

author's note: part 2 because I couldn't stop thinking about it. I hope you like it. (also, if any of you have any clue about real estate, you are allowed to yell at me bc all my knowledge comes from watching those shows on Netflix...)

part 1

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“It's gonna have to work somehow,” you sigh and rub your hand over your forehead. You are exhausted, having been up all night to find a solution to the problem your team is facing. Your head perks up at a knock on the door. “Excuse me, miss, the Cameron account is waiting in your office. He says he has an appointment, although I couldn't find it in your calendar.” “He doesn't have a fucking appointment,” you yell in frustration. “I'm sorry,” you apologize immediately, close to tears but not about to start crying in front of your coworkers. “It's not your fault. I'll just go and send him away.”

“Why are you here?” you ask while entering your office, and he turns around to smile at you. “I'm guessing you're not happy to see me?” “It's really bad timing. You could've called,” you sigh exasperatedly while looking through your emails. “You didn't leave a number,” he reminds you, and you slowly pick up your head to look at him. “You have the office number,” you force a smile. “Yeah, I'm not gonna call your receptionist to ask if you got time to get drunk or need a good fuck,” he says while walking around your desk and standing next to you. “Would be inappropriate, yes,” you look up at him, but you freeze as you see your dad step inside.

“Y/n, you didn't tell me Mr. Cameron was coming in. I would've welcomed you earlier, Sir,” he introduces himself and Rafe shakes his hand. “It's really no issue, Mr. y/l/n. I'm in really good hands with your daughter,” Rafe charms him. “She's the best,” your dad praises you, and you nod along, too tired to actually care. “Now, let me show you around,” he leads him out of your office and Rafe quickly turns his head to give you a slightly panicked look. You mouth a “have fun” at him, and then he's gone, and you are allowed to get back to work.

“Listen, if we switch the staging company-” “That's not gonna help with the interest rate, James,” you sigh, pacing the room. “Was just a suggestion,” he mutters. “I'm calling it. This isn't going anywhere. Let's go home and come back tomorrow morning with some new ideas on how to fix this shit,” you suggest, and the whole team lets out a sigh of relief. “And here we have- Honey, what are you doing?” your dad interrupts you and your colleagues while packing up. “Going home. We've been here for over 24 hours,” you explain. “Can we talk in my office?” he asks, and you follow diligently, leaving Rafe and the others alone in the conference room while you go talk to him.

“It's not a good look to leave early, especially in front of a partner,” he admonishes your choices. “I honestly don't care what Mr. Cameron thinks, dad. It's my team, my decision.” “Is the issue at least fixed?” “No, and it won't get better if I don't give them any rest. I haven’t slept or showered since in two days, dad,” you complain, and he shakes his head but caves nevertheless. “Fine. But you'll have to come to dinner tonight. This Cameron guy is a big part of our modern strategy, we can't let him slip away.” “Okay,” you nod and walk back out of the office and towards the conference room to tell your team it was okay to leave.

“Rough day?” Rafe asks while following you back to your office. “Rough week. Nothing you need to concern yourself with,” you huff but inadvertently stop and turn to look up at him. “Look, all I wanna do is go home take a nice bath, sleep for two hours and then meet both you and my parents for dinner because apparently I don't have any fucking choice. So, just go back to your hotel or do some sightseeing, I don't care, but just go.” “Can I ask something before I leave?” A smile tugging on his lip. “You just did.” “When was the last time you actually had sex?” You turn to make sure there was no one around who could've heard him before pulling him with you into your office. “You can't just ask shit like that. Especially here,” you hit him against the chest, but he takes your wrist and keeps your hand flat to his body. “See, I tried hooking up with someone else, multiple someones, but that just didn't hit the same way. It's purely a practical issue, all right.” God, how you hate his macho behavior as if you'd ever fall for it, or him. “I'm still not answering that preposterous question.” “So, you didn't? Was there no one or were they just shit?” he asks, a little too cocky for your taste. “I'm going home now,” you tell him again and start putting your laptop in your bag. “I didn't book a hotel room. Didn't think I'd need one, to be honest,” he admits and you laugh. “What makes you think that?” But he doesn't reply and just looks at you with his blue eyes, eyes that haunt your dreams and sexual fantasies. “You think ‘cause we hooked up once, you'll get some kinda claim over me? Like, I'm supposed to throw myself at you the moment you step onto the stage? Well, you guessed wrong, darling,” you sneer and go to walk out of the office when he grabs your wrist. “You didn't answer my question.” “Fuck, okay, fine. It's shit. It's not- I'm not gonna fucking praise you, asshole,” you scoff and start walking again. “Are you coming or not?”

“I'm still gonna take my bath,” you remind him as his hands find your face to hold onto it while he's kissing you and stumbling backwards out of the elevator, right into your flat. “Fuck, you can have as many baths as you want. Just lemme fuck you,” he begs after pulling away. “Jesus, you're needy,” you laugh as he rips your tight dress down, making your tits spill out. “You know that thing has a zipper right?” you ask as he starts kneading and kissing your tits like there's no tomorrow. You're getting wetter by the second, and he doesn't seem to want to stop and actually help you out of the dress. “Rafe, please, just a minute,” you beg and he holds up to look at you. “Whaddya need, sugar?” His light southern drawl is making you even needier than you care to admit. “Can you open the zipper, so I can take this shit thing off?” “Sure, can do, sweetie,” he puts too much weight into the pet name for it to not be a dig at your dad. “Don't call me that again, please. Anything but that,” you sigh as he helps you out.

“You know your dad's an asshole, right?” “Aren't they all?” you huff walking over to the window front that looks out onto Central Park and leaning your head against the glass. “I grew up with him. Of course, I know he's an ass. You think I turned out this sweet ‘cause he was nice?” “What would he actually say if he knew?” Rafe steps closer to you, opening the knot in your hair and kissing your shoulder. “Congratulate me or disown me. Either way, it just proves his suspicions right,” you shake your head. “Why? He thinkin’ you slept your way to the top or what?” “Oh no, that's all nepotism. No, he thinks I slept with my professors because he can't believe that I made valedictorian and was named party queen of Harvard at the same time.” “Did you?” “Once, before he was my Professor, and it didn't have any effect on my grade,” you admit but have to laugh at how absurd it sounds. “You feeling better now?” he asks while rubbing your arms with his huge hands. “A bit. I'm still not your friend or anything,” you remind him and he laughs. “Business partners and fuck buddies, I'm okay with that.” “Good. Grab that chair,” you tell him and point at a lounge chair that stands a bit off to your right.

As soon as the chair is in place you push him down on it, straddling him in it and kissing him relentlessly. His hands are all over you, unclasping your bra in the back and making your tits jiggle as they drop. “Jesus fucking Christ, why are you so hot,” Rafe rasps, running his hands over the fat on your belly before pressing his face into your chest to motorboat you as best as he could. His childlike wonder, when it comes to you, makes you somewhat happy about the fact that he had dropped by unexpectedly. “Rafe?” “Uh-huh,” he moans against your skin. “I, uh… I don't have any condoms here,” you admit, and he rips his head up. “You what? Why? Why would you say that to me right now? I'm already hard for fuck's sake,” he complains loudly. “I'm sorry that I'm inconveniencing you there, you ass,” you snap and get up, picking up your bra and dress and leaving for the bathroom. “Fuck, sugar, just come back,” he pleads, but you don't even think about it and instead strip yourself completely to take a shower.

“Okay, listen, I can just go down find a store, buy some and get back here. Easy,” Rafe suggests, and you roll your eyes without looking at him. “Have you considered that I might not give a shit, jerk?” “Oh yeah? What's your brilliant idea, miss Harvard,” he scoffs. “How often do you get tested?” you ask and turn your head far enough to be able to see him stand behind you, nothing but tight boxers left on his body. “Every other month,” he shrugs. “When was the last time?” “Week ago.” “And?” “Clean. I'm not risking it, with, like, quick hookups and shit.” “Me neither. But I've never wanted to fuck a guy more than once either,” you say and turn back to the water that's steaming up the tiled room. “You want me to fuck you raw?” he asks, sounding as if you had just offered him the job of his life. “Jesus, don't get yourself so hyped already. I'm just saying it's a potential possibility that needs considering.” “What about-” “I've had an IUD since I turned 18 and it's never once failed me. I think it's gonna be fine,” you turn around to face him fully; eyes trailing down to the massive bulge in his boxers. “So, I'm guessing you've never been fucked while looking down onto Central Park?” you ask with a wide smile, and he shakes his head.

Rafe is back in the chair when you let yourself down on him, feeling every ridge and vein of his huge cock and you both groan at the feeling. His hand is trailing over your back, drawing lines over it while you let yourself breathe to adjust to him just enough so it doesn't hurt too much. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder. “If you wanna tap out, just pinch me. I'm not gonna listen to anything else, I just wanna make that clear.” “Noted,” he grins, and you lean forward in your seat and plant your feet in the ground before starting to bounce on his dick. “Shit, I missed looking at this ass,” he grunts, and you start bouncing a bit harsher, forcing yourself down on him while moaning loudly.

“Talk to me,” you beg as you keep fucking yourself with his cock. “You're a real slut, fucking your professor? I bet it turns you on to know how weak you make them. To know they have no control. Making them your little bitch,” his words are frequently interrupted by heavy pants and your excessive moaning, but he continues anyway. “Not with me. You're mine now. I don't give a shit who you were before. All you are now is my little whore, who lets me fuck her whenever I want. Right?” “Yes, daddy,” you cry out and do your best to keep bouncing on him, your hand finding your clit and toying with it. “You'll let me fill you up with my cum, like the pretty little cumslut that you are. Isn't that right?” he asks and thrusts up into you, meeting the movement of your hips and making you scream as he defiles your cunt. “Speak up, sugar,” he demands, pulling on your hair and bending you back. “Gonna make a mess for you, daddy. Just for you.” The tears are running down your cheeks when your orgasm hits you, and he follows instantly, fucking his seed even deeper into you before letting go of your hair and allowing you to get up.

“Can you walk?” he asks, and you nod while dragging yourself over to your bed and falling face-first into the fresh linen. “I thought I was imagining it, that my memory was skewed,” you mumble into the fabric. “But my memory doesn't come even close to this.” “Could say the same,” he praises you, and you can't help but blush. “Have you ever tried vanilla sex?” you ask out of pure curiosity, and he shakes his head while walking over. “Not a big fan of the lovey-dovey bullshit.” “Same. That's why I prefer reverse cowgirl, less personal, but I'm still in control for the most part,” you say after turning around to lie on your back. “We, uhm, could just do it. Like a bucket list thing. Just so we know how it is,” he suggests and you laugh. “Yeah sure.” “I'm serious. I mean, what's the worst that could happen? We fall in love? As if,” he huffs. “I'll sue you if you do,” you tell him before pulling him into you and somehow crawling backwards onto the bed. He kisses you, and you feel like you're melting into him, into his touch, his being; all of him.

His swollen tip is nudging at your clit, and you grasp down and put him to your aching hole, pushing him into you just slightly and your eyes already roll back at the feeling. Your senses feel heightened and dull at the same time, as if you are floating while on fire. “Look at me,” Rafe demands, holding onto your neck and squeezing just enough to make you whimper. You stare into his eyes, the blue is gone, and he starts to smile as he slowly pushes into you. Your eyes widen at the pleasantly painful stretch he's giving your pussy. And his lips find yours, muffling the moans that threaten to slip out as he pounds into you. But he lets off, kissing your neck, sucking on it and pulling your leg up to get a better angle.

“I'm gonna cum,” you cry pathetically and he laughs. “No, you're not. You're mine, baby, don't forget that.” “Please, Rafe.” You are begging once again, and his attack on your tired cunt is just getting worse with every passing minute. You had never begged for an orgasm before. Never had wanted to. But Rafe's way of fucking you is inherently different to anything you had ever felt before. “Not gonna happen,” he grins down at you, and you whine, but he keeps you pinned down right where he wants you to be. Your hands are clawing at his back, trying to hold onto him for dear life, to not lose yourself entirely.

“Tell me,” he slows, and it's pure torture, slowly dragging his big cock half out of you before slamming back in, giving voice to the most obscene squelching sound you'd ever heard your pussy make. “I'm still not your type, right?” he smirks, and you throw your head to the side just for him to yank it back. “Answer, or you're not gonna cum on this dick ever again.” “No. Still no,” you pant, and he kisses you again, pulling your hand down and letting you touch yourself. His lips are moving towards your ear, nibbling at your earlobe. “Make daddy proud and soak his big cock, sugar,” he growls and your back arches up. Legs trembling as the tight band in your core snaps. The orgasm rips through you without any mercy, and you scream his name, actually trying to make him proud and feel worthy of the pleasure his cock’s giving you. “Good girl,” he praises, brushing over your cheek. You're completely dazed, only paying half as much attention to him as you wanted to while watching his face contort and hips stutter with sloppy thrusts before he's releasing his hot seed into you.

“In love with me yet?” you joke while lying next to him, and he runs his hands over his short hair. “Nope,” he shakes his head and purses his lips. “Good. And if you praise me ever again, I'm gonna kick your ass. Understood?” you sneer while getting up and walking to the bathroom. “You liked it,” he calls after you with a light laugh swinging in his voice. You know he’s right, but you don't wanna admit it. You don't want to admit to the vulnerability of it all, after having spent years to build yourself up to the person you are now. No longer wasting any more time on what people think of you or giving them any time of day to hurt you. This includes not letting them close to prevent it from ever getting to such a point ever again. “Just don't fucking say it again,” you tell him as you hear him enter the shower behind you. “Understood.”

You shower in silence, each of you on one end of the long shower but the glooming feeling that something has changed won't leave you. Not as you leave the shower to dry off, or as you lay down and try to relax for just a bit before you have to get ready. Not while doing your hair and makeup. Not while putting on your dress or when you call your driver. And he's not saying a single thing. Rafe stays quiet throughout all of it, which makes you a little pissed at him, but you can't let it show.

You arrive ahead of time, your parents not yet there when the hostess shows you to your table, and you order an extra dry martini. The stark difference in your behavior towards each other outside and inside the bedroom is starting to annoy you. You miss how easy-going he had been that first day you met him. How charming and funny and most of all flirtatious he had acted. “Tomorrow morning, you're gonna fly home and then I only wanna see you when there's something with the business,” you tell him, trying to get the upper hand in a situation that you had never intended to be in. “Understood,” he mutters as you both stand up to greet your parents, who are walking over.

The dinner is dry, and you can't wait to finally get home and just sleep. Your mom keeps making indecent jokes and comments towards Rafe, but he just laughs or smirks. And when he's not eating, he has one hand on his whiskey and the other on your thigh, slowly creeping up and making it harder for you to concentrate on what your father is telling you about. “It's a difficult task, but we'll manage,” you say to your dad before jumping up. “Excuse me for a moment.” You make a beeline to the restroom, trying to cool off and maybe get your act together. But Rafe won't let you. As soon as you step out of the restroom he yanks you with him to a dark corner of the hallway.

“What are you doing?” you hiss at him, and he pushes you against the wall, caging you in. “Why are you letting him walk all over you?” Rafe questions, his hand is trailing under the skirt of your dress; fingertips caressing the soft flesh of your thighs. “He's my boss,” you reply. “What else?” he taunts, his fingers are pressed against your clit now, making you gulp and bite your lip to not let out a whimper. “My dad,” you whisper, searching his eyes for approval, but instead he slaps your wet pussy and you squirm. “You're pathetic, you know that?” he laughs quietly, and you nod, just to please him. “Rafe, please, just-” you claw at his wrist, but he grabs your cunt even harsher. “You don't get to pick and choose whenever you like, sugar. You don't want me to be nice, so I'm not. But then all of a sudden, you don't want me to be mean either. Now which is it? One final answer,” he demands, and you let go of him, your hand falling to your side as you admit defeat. “Good choice,” he growls, pulls your slip to the side and pushes two fingers into your seeping cunt while his free hand is on your mouth, muffling your quiet moans.

His long fingers are curled up inside you, fucking you with no mercy or thought that someone might walk by and see. But you don't care because he's making you feel whole, whispering a plethora of disgustingly dirty shit into your ear, and always changing his technique when he feels you get closer to your release. “Tell me who you belong to, sugar,” he rasps and you whimper silently. “I'm yours, daddy. All yours.” “Good,” he seems pleased with himself, and you feel a sigh of relief coming as you're growing closer and closer to your orgasm. But right before you can let go, he pulls away.

“Rafe, no- What are you doing?” You claw at his chest as he steps back and licks his fingers clean of your arousal. “You don't get to use me and throw me away like a piece of trash. Remember who's got the upper hand here, y/n.” Then he lightly slaps your cheek two times before walking back to the table, leaving you to deal with the consequences of your actions.

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taglist: @ijustwantttoread @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @drwstarkeyy @notdxbya @sublimepenguinpeach-blog

part 3

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic #obx fanfiction #~fanfiction #smut #my writing

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yangbbokari · 7 months

Text

In my past, I find you and in the future, I still have you

Pairing: Bang Chan x F!reader Genre/AU/Tropes: Angst, lovers to exes and back to lovers, idol!AU Warnings: Breakup, a few(lots) tears, cursing, (it might hit close to home so read at your own risk), sick reader, memory loss WC: 2.5k Summary: Leaving Bang Chan was hard for you. But how hard would it be on Chan? (Not really a summary but yk ✨SUSPENSE✨) A.N: Okay so it won't stop bugging me and I'm eatin' this up. Also, this is very cliche, ik. so🤫🤫 Song Rec: Atlantis - Seafret, I Love You So - The Walters, If the world was ending - JP Saxe ft. Julia Michaels

It's not that you didn't love him. It was that you couldn't. He already had so much work piled on him. Late nights at the studio and being overworked by his company was already taking a toll on not only his physical, but mental health too. Now in these circumstances, he didn't need you to add on to that.

You were diagnosed with a brain tumor last week. The doctors had said that you would slowly lose your memory over time and the operation was risky.

“It’s best to tell your loved ones so they will know when the time comes.”

But how could you do that to Chan. You wouldn’t want him to worry about you and forfeit his career. Yes, he would be an emotional wreck if you left him, but it’d be worse if you left his world completely.

What hurt your heart the most though, was that the universe seemed to be playing tricks on you.

“You’ll most likely lose about five years of your memory.”

Five years. Five years ago when you and Chan met. Isn’t that funny. It was making you forget him. Why though? Why did you have to forget the only person who made you truly happy?

So you had no choice. No choice but to let him go. Let him be happy with someone new. Someone who isn't you. As much as you wished that none of this fell on you, there wasn't really another option.

You let there be a slow let down. Drips of it at a time instead of a waterfall. A small flame instead of a blazing fire. I light breeze instead of raging winds. A tiny whisper instead of a loud voice.

So you packed your bags and waited for him. When he got home, late at night, or you could say an early time in the morning, you sat him down. He was clearly worried. It wasn't normal for you to be up this late let alone sitting him down like he'd done something wrong. Before you could even get a word out he grabbed your hands and starting speaking.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for whatever I've done that makes you wish to leave me. Please don't end this. I'll fix whatever is wrong. You're... you're everything I could ask for so don't say anything about us seperating."

Why could he read you so well? How were you suppose to leave him when he looked at you like this? Why did he make it so hard for you to leave him? But you had to tell him one way or another. You took a shuddering breath before spilling it on him.

"I just don't think..." It was suffocating you. You didn't want to continue but you had to. Tears were already rushing to your eyes, ruining your plan. But you couldn't let him see them. "...I don't think I can continue o-our relationship."

"Why?" He said almost immediately.

You wanted to tell him the truth. Or at least give him a soft reason. But you knew you had to hurt him so that he would want to forget you.

"Because I'm tired. You come home at late times. You're probably out with some other girl while I sit at home, waiting for you. Besides, I'm tired of keeping this useless relationship a secret. How long have we been together, Christopher?"

"Don't call me that."

You knew him hearing his government name coming from your mouth would hurt him a little too deep.

"Four years... four years and not even the members know, Christopher."

"Don't call me that!" Tears brimmed his eyes as you spoke.

"I want someone who can be with me and have time for me. Someone who can show me off as if I'm his entire world."

"You are my entire world."

"I don't want to be anybody's SECRET anymore!"

The tears were threatening to push all boundaries and just fall. But you had to keep your resolve.

His grip on your hands tightened. "FIne. I'll take some time off a-and we can do whatever you want. A-and w-we'll go public. I-I-I don't want t-to hide you either so let's-"

"No. I'm done, Christopher. I'm done with all of this and I'm leaving."

Chan gradually moved from the couch and onto his knees, in front of you as he shook his head.

"Please don't call me that. Channie, babe, baby, anything but Christopher. And please... please don't leave me. I'll do anything just don't go. You're the best thing that could possibly happen in my life so d-don't go. You're my happiness. I-I don't know what to do without you. You're my life and soul. You're my everything. So don't walk away..."

You could feel his tears fall onto your lap and hands as he hung his head low. You wanted to sob your heart out. Tell him that this is only for a little while and you'll come back. But you couldn't. So you pushed him away. Walking to your shared bedroom and coming out with suitcases. Chan's eyes widened a he ran to your side.

"Where are you going? Are you seriously going to just leave everything behind? Please don't, please...? Tell me what to do and I'll do it."

"Let me go."

"Anything but that."

His hand rested over yours, stopping you. His eyes pleading you to stay. His breath shaky and unstable. His trembling body from the disbelief. His bothered mind, not wanting to believe this.

“I already said I’m tired and I’m leaving.”

“Take me with you.”

“I’m leaving you.”

You sent the words like sharp, cold icicles straight into his heart. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His whole world was falling apart.

No.

His whole world was walking away. Away from him. Away from everything they’ve ever created. Away from their love. His arms went limp and you did as you said. You left him. You walked away. ~~~ It’s been a year now. The operation was successful and you made it out safely. But not your memories. As life went on, you felt a little uncomfortable. Like something was missing. Someone was missing. You couldn’t pinpoint it though. So you found a new way to cope, K-pop.

It started recently. A month or two ago maybe. Not that you really could remember. Your friends introduced you to BTS and it just fascinated you. Recently, you started standing a new group, Stray Kids. You didn’t exactly have a bias yet. But, you were really drawn to one member in particular, Bang Chan. He brought you much warmth and for some reason, you kind of felt familiar with him. Like you’ve known him since forever even though you only discovered Stray Kids last week.

Your friend, Yuna, happened to have an extra Stray Kids concert ticket. How could you say no? It wasn’t until another two weeks. But, hello? You had to find the finest outfit out of what you already had. As you rummaged through your closet, a box fell from the top, and you dodged it quickly. The box broke open revealing photos, a diary, a necklace, a phone, and a couple of CDs.

The items weren’t something you recognized. Probably Yuna’s, you thought. But curiosity got the best of you. Yuna wouldn’t mind… right? So you gathered the items together before actually looking at them. Shocked, was an understatement.

There was photos of you and no other than, Bang Chan, together. Cuddling, kissing, canoodling, everything you could possibly find in the books. There’s no way. The person you’ve been admiring for a couple of weeks was… was… was someone you were infatuated with.

You put the rest of the items back into the box and rushed to living room. Placing the box on the table, you took out a few CDs and placed one in the CD player. It was without a doubt, Chan’s voice coming through the speakers. His soft voice singing a love song. You then took out the diary. It contained little moments that you recorded. Your eyes skimmed through the diary until the last page. Tears rushed to your eyes.

“Hi, me. Hi, Y/n. It’s me or you or us. I don’t really know. But I’m writing this because I want you to know about someone. Someone who helped you through everything. Christopher Bahng. Bang Chan. The man who you love most and who loves you most. Don’t forget him. Run to his side as soon as you read this. He’ll be waiting. I promise. If you forget about him, remember the most you possibly can. He’s the only one who will protect you and stay by you. You met at the cafe shop right outside of JYP. Your first date took place at the same place. You had your first kiss during a movie night at his place. His birthday is October 3rd, 1997. He’s your soulmate.”

You grabbed the phone and opened it. Thank god it was unlocked. Thank the past you who was smart enough not to put a password on it. Opening your camera roll, there was gazillion pictures of you and him. Your phone book had only his number in it. Everything on that phone had to do with him. Even the small little widgets.

Memories flooded your mind. It was all of him. Everything about him. You took a deep and shaky breath. Looking at his contact on this phone, you contemplated on pressing it. You ended up pressing it anyway. Now the problem was, how to call him. It was too nerve-wracking. Though it was only about 10 seconds, it felt like hours until you pressed, call. The other end connected almost immediately.

"Y/n... Hello?"

Your breath hitched. It really was him. The voice, the person, the missing peice. You finally found it.

"Y/n, are you there? P-please let it be you. I ran from practice once I knew it was you. Hello? Please say som-"

And you hung up. Everything was finally clicking. Now you knew why you felt like you've known him since forever. Why you felt you had a missing piece. He was there all along and you were just too stupid to realize it.

You finally let your long held breath out. Your heart beating at a rapid pace. Everything felt so surreal. As much as you wished to deny it, you knew it was all true. ~~~ When the time of the concert came, you were ready. Emotionally, probably not. But physically, definitely. You placed the necklace around your neck. The one you had found in the box. It was a galaxie pendant with your's and Chan's intitials written on the back. You dressed exactly how he liked. Well not exactly, but close. He usually prefered you in what you were most comfortable in. But you knew he absolutely loved when you were fully in black. Preferably, a skin tight dress. So that's what you wore. You did a small touch of makeup with a coral shade of lipstick. It was his favortite shade on you. Even though he really liked your natural beauty.

You mustered up all the courage left in you and you went to the concert. Were you scared? The answer was yes. You weren't sure what to expect but that didn't mean it didn't made you scared.

Yuna managed to get her hands on V.I.P tickets which meant you could even go backstage. Your head was jumbled of all the things you were gonna tell him. It made you feel kind of guilty for leaving him like he was nothing just to run back to him. But you still loved him and you weren't gonna let anything get in the way this time.

Eventually, you made it. But you were now standing in the front, extremely nervous. What would he think when he saw you again? Would he be mad at you?

No one but you two knew of your previous relationship. So not even Yuna would have known that she was taking you to the one person you loved.

As soon as they entered the stage, you froze in place. Your eyes couldn't leave his figure. They followed every single one of his movements. What you didn't expect though, even though you should've, was when his eyes found you.

It was after the first song ended and they just started talking to the fans. As he scanned the gigantic crowd, his eyes softened. But when his eyes moved to the row in front of him, his eyes widened. They widened with shock, surprise, disbelief. There you were, standing in the audience of a concert for him. It has always been a dream of his to see you at his concert.

You took off as soon as you saw his eyes widen. You most definitely were not ready for that. You should’ve mentally prepared yourself better. Your heart wouldn’t stop beating rapidly. ~~~ It wasn’t until after the concert that you finally came back. Yuna had to drag you backstage. She kept teasing you for being so shy. But if only she knew. In the end, you were face to face with each of the members. You didn’t do anything, staying still.

Bang Chan had a whole lot of self control, to not run to you and hug you. But Yuna just had to have such a big mouth and said, “ Y/n’s favorite member is Chan! She had her eyes on you the whole time. Was even too nervous to come back here and meet you.”

You face completely flushed with a deep color of pink, immediately looking at Chan. Nervously chuckling as you inputted, “Y-yeah… haha..” Now you both were clearly uncomfortable. The silence kept between the two of you was insufferable as the others teased you. ~~~ Somehow, you were now trapped in a room with Chan. The others left to give you some “privacy,” or so the called it. It felt like hours before one of you finally spoke.

“Hey, y/n…” He said.

“Hey…”

“How’ve you b—”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Everything.”

A few moments of silence fell between you again.

“I’m sorry for leaving you and saying things so horrible.” Now tears started clouding your vision as you talked. “I actually didn’t want that. It was all a mistake a-and I really really miss everything we had. I know I sound stupid. But I lied. I lied about everything and I should’ve told you the truth. I-I-I-I had a brain tumor.” Your tears were a full on waterfall now and they definitely weren’t stopping anytime soon. “And I was scared I would affect your career. I was scared that I would forget you, us and everything we had.”

Without a doubt, Chan was also crying. He quickly came to hug you and comfort you. He hushed you down.

“N-no it’s okay. I know it must’ve been hard. I should’ve kept pursuing you and staying by your side no matter what.”

“Don’t blame yourself. You had no choice but to believe me. I was the one who left.”

He just shook his head and held you as close as possible.

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?” He asked before you nodded your head. “See, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

Let’s just sayyyyyyy, y’all made up just fine and now you’re happy. Yuna and the other members were shocked for sure but it all went well. The two of you were now together and that’s how it would be, forever. ~~~ another a.n: sry for the ass ending y’all😭 but I didn’t know how to end it with a make up so that’s what I gave. It was also super rushed so sry for that too. Maknae line pt.2 should b out by tmrw so don’t worry. Love y’all though!!!😘😖💗

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