#mary's kitchen crush

[pascals-doll]

like a virgin

joel miller x reader

🫧 inspired by madonnas like a virgin MY MADONNA CONCERT IS COMING UP I-

🫧 i always make my writings for joel so long but i love this man smm i could write all day for him it dont even b on purpose 😩

🫧 description: pre-outbreak!joel, babysitter!reader, reader babysits sarah, semi-fluff, DILF JOEL DILFFF, age gap (joel is 36 and reader is early 20s), smut smut, SMUT SMUTTT, dom!joel, softdom!joel(ugh i need so bad),sub!reader, hella praise kink, reader and joel are obessesed w each other tbh, secret crushing, body worship (reader reciving/ slight joel), pussy eating, possessive!joel, unprotected sex, p in v sex, hair pulling (j recieving), tommy is a teasing p.o.s 😭, no use of y/n, use of nicknames (sweetheart, darlin, and sweet girl).

you stepped into the miller’s residence weekly to babysit his daughter Sarah, she was the sweetest teen girl. she reminded you a bit of yourself when you were her age which was probably the cause of the instant connection.

you had been baby-sitting for almost 8 months now, leading to getting closer to Joel; Sarah’s dad.

Joel was more than a hunk of a man, he towered over you even with your heeled mary-janes at times, his broad build engulfing all his clothing making him look like a slutty construction worker with his roughed up baggy-blue jeans thats sinched around his waist perfectly.

you would be lying if you wouldn’t oogle the man while his attention was pulled onto something else. you would watch the way he talked so sweetly to Sarah, yet when it came to a phone call, his neighbor, a stranger or his brother, Tommy that would occasionally stop by.

Joel would have this assertive and unruly tone underneath that thick southern accent. he was a man that paid close attention in his life which is why he has allowed you to take care of his daughter with so much trust.

you would never know it but Joel cherished you and the things you do.

Joel would show it in very discreet ways, today was a prime a example.

“m’havin a famiy cookout later t’night, why don’t you head on home to rest, so you can come back to enjoy with us.” Joel invitied you with ease as you began to grab your belongings from his coat-rack near his front door.

you grabbed your purse, walking towards the sound of his voice which was right around the corner. Joel was standing in his wide living room.

“it would be more than my pleasure. thank you for everything again. im always very appreciative for sarah and you” you thanked him sweetly, eyes meeting his.

he stood next to his large bookcase that had an assortment of different books, personal objects, some cds/dvds, and his vinyls.

joel picked up a vinyl, sliding out of the slot in the shelving of his bookcase, pulling it out of the envelope, and placing it on the record player.

yet another instance, where you accidentally ogle him.

“the real thank you should be t’ya. im adjustin’ to single parentin’ and ya’ been very accommodatin’, thank you.”

your kind demeanor was the sweetner to his coffee.

you were now home, getting dressed to return to the Miller’s residence.

usually when you’re babysitting, you dressed lazily. you would put on a random shirt and jeans or sweats.

you wanted to cleanup a bit more, knowing it wasnt just going to be you and sarah most of the day; Joel would be there.

you threw on this cute blue floral sundress that was mid-length, it stopped right below your cross necklace.

you finished up by pairing it with white frilly socks with mid-heeled black flats.

you didn’t put much makeup on, only putting the basics before doing any last touch-ups and grabbing your black mini-purse.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

once you arrived, opening the gate and greeting a few of the people that were sitting on the porch before entering through the front door.

the sound of chatter got louder as you walked through his home. you turned around to the corner and his living room was empty but his kitchen was cluttered with different food and grill necessities.

you thought to yourself how they must be outside, you began to walk farther into his home till the back where the sliding door to his backyard was.

you began to slide the door open “oh my!! you came!” sarah squealed out of excitement, she came from restroom door next to the side of his sliding door.

you immediately engulfed the excited girl that ran into your arms “i wouldn’t miss it for the world, girl!” you exclaim while smiling.

“c’mon! my dad is outside grilling!” sarah spoke excitedly. she grabbed your hand as you opened the door and walked outside together.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

“d’ya invite that sweet babysitter of yours?” Tommy asks joel while seasoning the steak “i did, i hope she comes-you know, for sarah and all” Joel tries to play off with his words.

“oh my brother fancy’s someone, i see” Tommy chuckles out, putting his beer bottle up in the air slightly.

“i do not fuckin’fancy that young lady. she’s gone above and beyond for my daughter and i just wanted her to feel welcome” Joel explains himself, his tone laced with angry yet getting his explaination a across a bit hastily. Tommy’s eyebrow quirks.

“don’t say nothin’ else” Joel utters out in a stern tone, grabbing his cold corona as Tommy puts his hands up in defence.

Tommy turned his head, not the best decision as it made his amusement grow fonder. he turns back to Joel.

“well, ya’look at that brother” Tommy slys out, throwing a wink at his older brother before making his way back to his wife Maria.

It was you and sarah approaching, Joel actually choked on his sip of beer.

you were beautiful, Joel wasn’t an oblivious man.

Joel, himself even thought it was impressive how easily you cleaned yourself up by just some jeans and sweatshirt; at times just a shirt.

tonight was different, very different.

Joel finally has seen you outside of your different hoodies and pants.

he couldn’t begin to comprehend as you and sarah got closer and closer “Dad! she made it” sarah calls him out in excitement.

you finally approached him next to his griller which caused him to immediately snap out of his gaze.

Joel gave you his hand to shake “thank you so much for having me” you thank him, sweetly accepting as you began to shake pulling you in for a soft side hug.

you were right beside him, feeling the heat of the fire from the grill on both of you.

in Joel’s eyes, up close, your beauty was now beyond otherworldly. your light blue sundress bringing out the color of your eyes, the way your hair fell on your shoulders, and your jewlery sparkiling the tone of your skin.

you looked so elegant, yet you still managed to keep it simple. your winged liner making you look more mature than just the light mascara you would rush onto your lashes before getting out of your car on babysitting days.

Joel couldn’t begin to wrap it around his mind how you could possibly look so pure yet you were a woman. a hard-working one at that.

he knew that. it was something that made him desire you which felt so wrong.

“anytime, ya deserve to be apart of the family-shit! ya’already are” Joel goes off a bit nervously after ogling you. you gave him a soft smile.

“did’ya need help with the grill?” you quickly perk in as the fire began to sizzle a tad bit louder than usual “ah shit!” Joel exclaims, flipping each of the steak.

“careful now, brother! dont burn ‘em!” Tommy calls out, laughing with a devious smirk as he approaches again with cooler in hand.

Joel grumbled something under his under his breath as he focused on the grill.

“nice to meet you, i’ve heard s’much about you! I’m Joel’s brother, Tommy.” the younger brother introduces himself.

you give him your hand to shake “It is nice to meet the uncle tommy” you joke out causing sarah to giggle with you.

Joel couldn’t begin to explain the beauty you carried within you.

he was sure that if a god made you, it was Hestia and Aphrodite.

𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪 𓆩♡𓆪

the evening was pleasantly spent by you getting to meet maria and her pregnant belly, congratulating her.

then once it was time to serve the dinner, you helped Joel and Tommy by moving the grilled food off of the grill.

this consisted of Tommy making jokes that had slight insinuating under-tones that you were too naive to pick up but laugh everytime Joel would punch Tommy’s shoulder roughly, not being playful at all.

you helped bring in the food as sarah set up the dining table. once everything was set up and everyone sat down to eat, Joel’s grilling being beyond splendid.

when dinner was over while everyone cleaned up, you went to use the restroom.

you finished using up the restroom which is how you were now in Joel’s living room.

you began to admire his large bookcase from where he stood earlier to invite you.

you skimmed through, your hands softly going over the objects as you observed his books, framed pictures, his collection of dvds, and then his vinyls.

you had a record player of your own, sometimes sarah would ask you to play bon jovi and tell you where the record was.

Joel had an impressive collection, ranging to every genre of music. he had some legends on vinyls like Bob Marley, Johnny Cash, Lionel Richie, and Madonna.

you immediately picked up the Madonna vinyl, it was her second album ‘Like a Virgin’.

you grew up with your mom adoring Madonna more than anything which explains your adoration for her music.

“I was in highschool when i first heard Madonna” a deep voice spoke through the room, behind you.

you automatically knew it was Joel, turning around still looking at the tracklist on the back of his vinyl “this is my favorite album besides Like a Prayer” you say as you walk up to him, smiling.

“you weren’t even born yet” Joel laughs out causing you to jokingly get offended.

“excuse me, i know my Madonna” you joke back, giving him a playful wink which he just gave you a slight chuckle too.

“she say she know she Madonna, ay?” he gives you a slight smile, opening up his record player before inserting the vinyl.

soon enough the record player began to ring a classic 80s pop beat through the room.

you automatically felt yourself slightly popping your leg with the beat and snapling your fingers slightly.

“go ahead, Mr.80s” you state smiling, inviting him to dance “oh no, i-don’t dance” Joel quirks out awkwardly, now standing nervous.

Joel admired your confidence and comfortabilty in your skin, you were so young and full of life while also being so sophisticated and methodical.

you grab Joels hands and began to playfully sway with him.

Oh, like a virgin

Touched for the very first time

Like a virgin

When your heart beats next to mine

🫧

you sang the melodious lyrics under your breath. you felt your breath hitch as you locked eyes with joel, being in his grasp.

you could feel your body burn up in his strong hold, his heavy hand on the small of your waist.

your breath hitched causing your chest to push up against his chest. this felt so right, the way his hands held your body and each of your curves.

🫧

You're so fine, and you're mine

Make me strong, yeah, you make me bold

Oh, your love thawed out

Yeah, your love thawed out

What was scared and cold

Joel made you feel more than a woman, you were so polish and refined, yet so sophisticated and mature while all-looking ever so young and full of life.

he felt a bit of confidence which made him twirl you around, engulfing you into his embrace again with one arm; your back to his chest now.

you swore the sound of the song was slowly drowning out and now the sexual tension was ringing through the both of you.

you could feel his heartbeat thump against your back as his hands rubbed both sides of your waist to the rythem of your delicate sways.

you leaned your head back against his chest, his scent being the only thing on your mind.

you felt him begin to caress your hair with one hand as it left your waist.

“you’re s’beautiful, hope y’know that” Joel could blame it on his 5 beers but 5 beers wasn’t shit for Joel, he was very conscious of his choices.

the compliment sent shivers down your spine as you swore your knees grew limp momentarily.

you turned around, your thigh now inbetween one of his legs, chests pressed against each other, his hands gripping your hips now, and faces inches away from each other.

your lips were parted, you really were debating on kissing the beautiful hunk of a dad infront of you.

fuck it

just like that, within no time your lips were moving like you both had never kissed anyone before.

the song continuing to play as the both of you makeout in his living room while everyone was outside.

the way his hands ran through all of your body like he had never touched anyone, your lips pulling away to catch your breathe momentarily like you had never been kissed like that before.

Joel completely ravished you.

hell…now that he had you, he wasn’t gonna let go now.

“m’room darlin’” he mutters against your lips, before completely scooping you up bridal style. it caught you slightly off guard, gasping which made Joel smack your ass playfully.

“oh, aren’t you a gentleman?” you joke, your arms were wrapped around his neck.

“oh, don’t’cha worry sweetheart” Joel smirks out as you arrived to his room.

he laid you on his bed, going down with you while on top of you. he began to move his lips from kissing you to your neck, pulling down the small straps that held your dress.

each kiss that Joel placed on your body felt like a burning sensation, making your insides erupt with giddiness.

you felt like this was your first time all over again. your mind was racing, heart was nervous, and body was clamy.

and it was all because of Joel.

you weren’t sexually active at all recently, you were so busy with work, about to graduate with your masters, and even babysitting sarah; spending more time at the Millers than on dates.

you did go out but lord were the guys of this generation a bunch of sluts.

“what’s on your mind? am i doin’ somethin’ wrong?” Joel’s rushes out accidentally, not wanting to sound nervous but he did.

you weren’t only one feeling like a bad teenager doing this for the first time.

Joel smelled your perfume and that was all it took to get his mind racing. he couldn’t begin to fathom how he finally got to have you.

the way his big frame craddled yours sent him into overdrive, his heart going a million miles per minute as he tries to figure out where to even begin.

for you, it might’ve been a year but for him, it was almost like ages with the years he’s gone.

all Joel’s mind could do was think of all the things he could do to you.

“Joel-hmph” you couldnt help but whine out as his hands massaged closer and closer to your arousal.

“there there sweet girl, you ever been with a man?” Joel asks, lifting your dress up, exposing your angelic white panties.

Joel was damned forsure for the filthy thoughts you provoked out of him.

“n-no, i have never—they were idiots.” you felt so small under him, feeling overwhelmed like it was your first time all again.

at this point, you could’ve considered yourself a virgin with how Joel had you and how much of a man he was.

“you ain’t gon’go lookin’ f’someone to take care of that pretty lil’mind, not after im done with’ya.” Joel claims to you.

you believe every single word laced in his southern accent; making your cunt pulsate wantingly.

“is that what you want to do, Joel? take care of me?” you ask him, lifting your leg to spread yourself open more as you wrap it around his lower waist; basically resting on his thick thigh.

the way you looked at him through your lashes, batting them softly. it was a genuine question, laced with purity and hope.

“if you’ll allow me too-” Joel began, pulling down your panties. you expected him to unbuckle his belt next but no; he got on his knees.

your chest weighed up and down heavily, each of his touch making your body hot.

“it’s my only wish for taking care of me and sarah” Joel finishes before hooking both of your legs up onto his shoulders, his tongue wasting no time.

you didn’t even get a chance to respond, a moan erupting out of you being the only thing.

the way he ate your pussy like he didn’t just eat a whole meal downstairs had your back already arching.

Joel’s tongue swiped along all of your cunt, fucking your sweethole “jesus, ya’taste fuckin’ delicious” Joel mumbles against your pussy as his tongue quickens all along your juiced cunt.

“ahmph!” your shriek sounding like music to his ears, if he didnt have his family downstairs, he’d have you screaming.

“quiet fa’me, doll” he says, taking a hand to cover your mouth as before diving back in.

joel’s tongue fucks into your hole this time causing you to let out a muffled moan against his big hand.

the way that man was eating your pussy, tainting your pussy with his spit, marking it all as his drove you insane. there wasnt nothing this man couldn’t do.

“god! j-joel!” you muffle out, your hands go to his roughed up brown hair, pulling on it causing him to groan into your dripping pussy.

you felt yourself getting closer and closer, your pussyhole squeezing around the tip of his tongue.

“this pussy s’perfect- s’all fuckin’ mine.” Joel spits out once he pulled away from your pussy, denying you of your orgasm.

your mouth was agape in pleasure but then quickly falling into a pout “don’t worry darlin’, my baby will cum…on my dick” Joel’s voice is sweet like honey now as he leaned down to connect your lips together.

you taste yourself on his lips, mixture of his spit along his lips causing you to moan at the mix of both of your filth fogging your mind.

the way both of your lips moved in sync perfectly was beyond intoxicating for joel. he swore he could get addicted to just at the look of you but at this point, both of your lips had him drunk.

he had shimmied and kicked off his pants while making-out with you. he was completely taking over you once again, your body turning small under his big one.

“are you ready, sweetheart?” joel asks delicately, pulling away from your lips to look at your eyes.

you told him yes, leaning up to take his shirt off which he happily obliged.

you had only seen his toned arms but it was obvious he had a strong build. he might’ve not had a six-pack but lord were his muscles chiseled like a greek god.

“you gon’ drool over an old man?” joel utters out, his hand going in to caress your hair.

“oh baby, you’re beyond fine wine.” you whisper. your forehead’s connected, lips away from kissing, and looking him deep in his chocolate eyes.

Joel could feel his breath hitch at what you said, you already had him wrapped around your finger as he worshipped you.

Joel thrusted himself into you, he couldn’t even fucking believe how tight you were.

“jesus- god, this pussy s-ah fuck!” joel’s groan was almost animalistic as your mouth fell as if you wanted to scream but nothing came out.

Joel’s cock was a size you’ve never had before, it didnt hurt but oh, did it stretch.

“s’big-oh my!” you moan out loudly, eyes rolling back at the feeling of him delectably stretching your pussy out.

“you got it baby, you got it” he praises you although he was too busy trying not too pass-out because of your cunt.

after a small moment of adjusting for the both of you, he began to thrust into you at a slow pace.

you arch into him as your whimpers and soft moans turn slowly work their way up to louder and heavier moans.

joel worked himself into you, his mind not being able to get enough of all of you. he still had to process that he really had a young beautiful woman with the heart of a home in his bed.

joel completely held your body with one hand, eventually putting a hand over your mouth again once his sweet thrusts turned into pounds.

your body shaking against his with each of his rough and hard thrusts, fucking your name out of your mind and replacing it wirh his.

your muffled little cries of his name “Joel! joel-ah! j-j! j-joel!” sounding like a sweet lullaby to him. he couldn’t help but smirk at your teary eyed-self.

you werent even worried about ruining that pretty liner of yours as he fucked into you.

“shh my baby, you’re taking me so well” joel coos out, caressing you hair before leaning down to plant kisses and suck on your chest.

your hands grip his bed sheets as your body begins to shake in pure sensual bliss that joel brought you, making your mind fog up as the build up of your orgasm is almost virginal.

“ya’look so beautiful like this-” praises left joel’s lips left and right, loving and indulging in every single one of his praises as he fucked you to your orgasm so sickeningly good; leaving the both of you intoxicated.

“you was made fa’me, not no one else.” Joel’s eyes were shut now, completely lost in the pleasure you were giving him.

it was almost like a prayer, a hopeful chant, almost a possessive plead.

joel had wanted you just as much as you wanted him “yes! god yes! m’close! it’s y-yours! all yours!” your pleasure-filled babbles as your mind gets drunk of joels cock and overwhelming orgasm.

“let go, darlin’ ” Joel works you through your orgasm, hips going from pistoling into you to the delicate pace he started off with.

your entire body shook as both of your sweaty hot bodies embraced each other through both of your orgasms.

the room filled with heavy pants and moans as his hand left your mouth and began to massage your hair.

you both held each other, not wanting to let go of each other.

“i understand what madonna meant by ‘like a virgin’ now” you giggle out causing a playfully scoff to come from him.

“alright alright, we need t’get dressed and head back down. would ya’ want to stop by tomorrow after i drop sarah off at school?” joel asks, his chocolate eyes now ridden of lust and replaced with soft hope.

you were about to tell him yes but another voice spoke before you.

“are you fucking done?! fuck! i can’t keep stalling Sarah and Maria!” it was Tommy.

#the last of us fandom #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedrostories #the last of us #joel miller fluff #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller the last of us #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller #joel miller pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x you #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal stories #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #tlou hbo #tlou #tlou fanfiction #tlou joel #pedro pascal the last of us #pedro pascal tlou

[atydblack]

"plaything"

james potter x reader

masterlist (requests open)

summary: you started dating james who was 3 years above you when you were in hogwarts, tensions rise when he re-introduces you to his friendship group that includes his ex girlfriend lily evans

no cws this is just pure angst/fluff

lmk what you guys think!

-

"You'll be fine, princess." James presses a soft kiss to your temple as you walk up to his friends flat.

Your cheeks blushed as he could clearly tell you were nervous. Of course you knew of his friendship group when you were in school, everybody did. But being 3 years younger meant that they definitely had no idea who you were.

James hadn't so much as looked at you twice at Hogwarts, but you always had a crush on him. When your paths crossed again a few months ago, it was him who had eyes for you.

"I know." You smile up at him, trying to shake your nerves. "Just promise they're not gonna hate me."

"Of course they won't hate you." He chuckles. "They have to love you because I love you."

"I love you too." You sigh, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips.

You make your way inside and into the kitchen, James quickly starts to introduce you.

"This is Sirius and Remus." He smirks, pointing at the two boys who are leaning against the kitchen counter. "And this is y/n"

Sirius immediately comes forward and gives you a tight hug, Remus soon copied his actions.

"Merlin, James how've you managed to bag that!" Sirius poked at James, causing James to swiftly shove his shoulder.

"It's nice to finally meet you, y/n." Remus smiles. "We've heard lots about you."

James guides you through to the lounge where Mary and Lily sat.

"You must be y/n!" Mary gushed, standing to her feet to give you a hug. "I'm Mary, and this is Lily." She gestured toward Lily who sat on the sofa with a smug grin.

"I'll leave you here to get to know the girls, baby."

"Baby?" Lily scoffed, making fun of James' choice of pet names.

"Oh shut up, Lil. Just because you're not getting any." James poked back, rolling his eyes. Lily sticks her middle finger up at James as he walks away.

You take a seat on the sofa and take a big gulp of the wine Sirius poured for you. Lily and Mary sat opposite and Mary quickly started quizzing you about your life.

"I can't believe we never met in school!" Mary gushes. "You were a Gryffindor too right?"

You nod, trying to hide the nervous blush reaching your cheeks.

"And you never spoke to James in school either?" Mary's eyebrows furrowed.

"Nope." You laugh softly.

"Thats kind of sweet." She smiles.

"So how young are you again?" Lily butts in.

"I'm 21."

"Godric, that's even younger than the last one." Lily scoffs, making your breath hitch in your throat. Lily had been the one you were most nervous to meet, every one knew they were an item in school.

All you did was smile in response, Mary elbowed Lily in the ribs to shut her up.

"What? It's not like he won't have a new plaything in a few months anyway." Lily whispered to Mary, but something to you she wanted to make sure you could still hear her.

You glanced over at James, he was leaning against the counter with a bottle of beer in his hands. You desperately wanted him to get you out of this conversation.

"So have you met James' parents yet?" Lily continued to quiz you.

"I-uh, not yet." You try to act interested in the conversation.

"They're so nice." She smirks. "I have lunch dates with Euphemia all the time."

Merlin she's irritating you thought to yourself as Lily stared at you with a smug look. All you could do was smile in response, unsure of what she was expecting you to say.

You take a big swig of your drink, finishing off the glass.

"I'm just gonna grab another drink." You excuse yourself, making your way over to James in the kitchen.

His eyes light up as he sees you walking towards him.

"Hi, baby." James smiles, turning away from Sirius and Remus to kiss your forehead. "How you getting on with the girls?"

"Fine." You say bluntly, not wanting to cause a scene but his eyebrows furrow instantly, he knew something was up.

"Wanna come with me outside for a smoke?" He asks and you nod.

He grabs your hand and guides you to the balcony attached to the flat, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it swiftly.

"What's up, princess?" He questions you.

"It's nothing." You sigh, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I don't care if it's nothing." James grabs your chin and turns your head so you're looking at him. "It's clearly bothering you."

"Lily has just said some... interesting things." You mumble and he immediatly rolls his eyes, taking a long drag from his cigarette.

"I should have warned you about her." He laughs. "She's just a bit weird with new people joining the group... she did the same thing when Sirius brought a girl round a few weeks ago."

"But that's different." You pout. "She's your ex girlfriend."

"Yeah, from when we were 16." He chuckles. "Is my baby jealous?"

"No!" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. "She called me your plaything"

He was laughing now, making your cheeks grow red as you realised how silly it was that you were upset.

"It's not funny, Jamie." You whine. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before throwing it to the ground and taking a step towards you.

"I know, I know." He grabs your face again as you lean against the wall. "You're not my plaything, you're my princess."

"Promise?" You look up at him with wide eyes.

"Promise." He presses a soft kiss to your lips and you can feel his smirk as he still clearly finds the situation amusing.

#james potter x reader #marauders x reader #james potter #james potter fluff #james potter angst #remus lupin x reader #marauders #sirius black x reader #marauders fluff

[babybluebex]

i’ve had this scenario banging around in my head since the movie came out but imagine a fic where the reader has a massive crush on angus but they see him kissing elise at the christmas party 😭 like i loooveee angst and i would write this fic myself but i lost my last neuron when i fell off an electric scooter and got a concussion 😔

oh no concussion!! :( i'm so sorry about that honey, hopefully this'll make up for that!//word count: 2.1k, tw for grief/loss

You couldn't help but notice the way Angus grinned when Ms. Crane said her niece's name. It was a real smile, not the firm, thin thing that he had given you at lunch— you supposed that he hated being stuck at Barton as much as you did, maybe even hating you in the process. Being the only girl at Barton was hard, but especially at the holidays, when you really felt like your choices were the school or a fucking grave. It hurt, sure, but that smile on Angus's face hurt worse.

Elise pulled both you and Angus into the basement, where children sat, doing crafts with paste and glitter and pom-poms, and you smiled at one of the little girls, playing a popsicle stick as a little doll. You heard Angus and Elise talking to each other as they crossed the room, and you lifted your eyes to him just in time to watch him raise his arms in a silly pose and pull a goofy face. You almost started to laugh at him, as per usual when Angus was doing his antics, but Elise laughed first. Her laugh was gentle, her eyes bright, and your heart sank. She really was beautiful, and she was creative and knew whatever painting Angus was talking about. She was something that you weren't, and you sighed gently. And, based on the way that Angus reacted to her, he wanted what she had.

You took to playing with the little girls, keeping an eye out for Angus and Elise across the room. He didn't look at you one single time, keeping his gaze on her the whole time, spreading paint around the page with his long, thin fingers. You tried to distract yourself, but nothing worked, and you looked at the pair just in time to watch Elise lean over the table and press her lips to Angus's mouth.

Your heart stopped and your mouth went dry. Of course. After everything, all the time you spent with him, the tells of friendship and maybe more that was building throughout the vacation, he still chose her over you. Would anyone ever choose you? Even at your old school, you were cast aside, forgotten. You thought that there was something with Angus, little flirtations and lingering glances, you could have sworn there was something there, but apparently not. You rubbed your lips together and lowered your eyes, feeling hot tears prick to the surface, and you quickly got up from the short table and made your way upstairs. You needed the bathroom, or the kitchen, or somewhere where there wasn't other people.

Unluckily for you, as you pushed into the kitchen, you heard a shuddering sob, and you stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of Mary Lamb bent over the counter, crying. Danny, the janitor, who you had interacted with a handful of times, stood in the corner, obviously wanting to help her but not wanting to aggravate her.

"Mary?" you mumbled. "Everything okay?" Even in your upset state, you hated to see the strong and smart Mary in a bad moment. If she was crying, something was wrong.

She said nothing, drawing in a breath and weeping, and your heart clenched. You turned back out of the kitchen, going in search of Mr. Hunham, but before you could even think about his whereabouts, you collided straight into Angus's chest. "Oh, hey," he said with a crooked smile. "You disappeared really suddenly; you okay?"

Seeing his stupid smile made your tears return, and you struggled to breathe. You could worry about yourself and your complicated feelings towards Angus later; you needed to worry about Mary. "M-Mary—" you started, pointing towards the kitchen. "She's— Where's Hunham?"

"What about Mary?" Angus asked, looking past you to the swinging door of the kitchen.

"Where is Hunham?" you repeated firmly, and Angus's smile fell.

"I'll go find him," he mumbled, and you turned back to the kitchen without a word. Mary's head was hanging now, her tears dripping on the counter, and you carefully approached her. "Mary?" you started softly. "Do you want some water or something?"

Mary sniffled and shook her head, and you frowned. She obviously didn't want anything, and you took a step back as Angus and Mr. Hunham noisily bustled into the kitchen. One look at her had Hunham closing the door, and Angus stood in the corner, arms crossed, as he watched Hunham lay a hand on Mary's back.

You felt sick as you listened to her sob about her Curtis, the boy you never met but would always admire, and the group of you was quick to grab your jackets and decide to go home. You were glad; if you ever saw Elise again, you might have dropped dead. But, of course, Angus was whinging the whole walk to the car about leaving Elise behind. "I was having a good time!" he complained. "You can take Mary home and pick me up later!"

"Yeah, having a good time sucking Elise's tongue," you scoffed before you could stop yourself, and Hunham's head snapped to you with intensity.

"I can't believe you two," Hunham grunted. "This poor woman is bereft with grief—" Mary interjected that she didn't need anyone feeling sorry for her, but Hunham paid her little mind— "And all you can think about is that silly girl!"

"What did I do?" you gaped. "All I said was—"

"I heard you, miss," Hunham said. "Mary and I are going to get the car, and by the time we get back, you two had better fix whatever this is."

Your face heated up with shame and embarrassment as Mary and Hunham scuttled away, and you couldn't even bare to look at Angus. But you did, and you saw, on his pale and sharp chin, the smallest red mark, a cut, a nick from shaving. "You have a cut on your chin," you mumbled.

"I know!" Angus spat. "What's your fucking problem suddenly?"

"Hey, don't yell at me," you said quickly. "Look, I'm sorry that you're being pulled away from the love of your life or whatever, but you've got to start giving a shit about other people!"

"Like who?" Angus asked. "Like you?"

"Like Mary!" you said, even though your heart was screaming, begging for Angus to see you. For him to really see you, see through your timidness and shyness and see how badly you liked him. "Oh my God, this is her first Christmas without her son; Jesus Christ, at least act like you've got a heart inside your chest!"

"Why do you care so bad about her?" Angus asked. "And, for a matter of fact, why do you care about Elise?"

"Trust me, I couldn't give less of a shit about Elise," you said, crossing your arms in front of your chest in the cold. "But Mary, I... Fuck... My dad died in January. S'why I didn't wanna go home for the break... It would just be me and my mom, alone in our place, not being able to avoid the empty space on the couch where my dad should be. I don't know what Mary's going through, I'll never know how that feels, but... I get it. It hurts like fucking shit, and, like, you'll never understand how that feels because your parents are alive—"

"My dad's dead."

The way Angus venomously spit out his words made you feel rotted inside. "But..." you started. "I thought your dad...? Saint Kitts...?"

"That's just some rich prick my mom married," Angus said.

"So you should get it," you sighed. "The first holiday without family is hard, every day is hard, but Mary... I can't imagine how she feels, and I'm trying to be as sympathetic as possible, try to make it easier for her or something, y'know?"

Angus was quiet for a long moment, pressing the toe of his shoe into a snowy patch on the sidewalk. "I guess I like Elise because she likes me," he said softly. "S'not everyday I find someone who likes me."

"God..." you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut. "Is that what that was?"

"Shut up," Angus sneered.

"Hey, easy," you said gently. "Angus, I..." You didn't know what to say to him. You had no idea how to start the conversation, let alone get to where you wanted to be quick enough— Hunham only parked around the corner, he and Mary should be coming back at any second— and you said, "Was that your first kiss? Just then, with her?"

"All-boys schools don't make it easy to find a girl to kiss," Angus mumbled.

You sighed heavily. Your eyes drifted down to a snowbank at the edge of the street, watching it glitter under the streetlamp for a moment, and, before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him and pressed your mouth to his, grabbing his upper arms to keep you upright with your shaking legs. He started for a moment, shocked and surprised, and his hands hovered above your hips, wholly unsure of how to proceed, and you broke the kiss quickly. His owlish eyes stared you down, his mouth open, but he didn't look upset.

"Say something," you whispered, and he let out a breath, the warmth of the air hitting your lips. "Fuck, please, just say something—"

He kissed you again. His hands grabbed your hips and tugged you against him, and you easily looped your arms around his neck and rose up on your tip-toes to reach his height. His lips were warm, if a little dry, and his nose bumped yours as he went to deepen the kiss, his fingers itching in the skirt of your dress. You smiled, unable to control yourself, and Angus did too, pulling away from your mouth.

"Oh," you whispered, and you smoothed your thumb across his top lip, wiping off a little bit of the rosy lipstick that you had worn to the party. "Sorry 'bout that."

"Whatever," Angus said breathlessly, his eyes soft as he gazed at you. "You taste good."

You chuckled lightly, lowering your eyes to his shoes. That shyness returned as your skin flamed, and you worried your bottom lip between your front teeth. "S-So I guess you see why I wasn't too jazzed about Elise," you said, trying to attempt a lightness in your voice.

"I'll say," Angus said. "How long have you liked me?"

"Since I met you?" you squeaked. "Since, um, I got sat in front of you in Hunham's class...? I don't know, it's dumb."

"Nuh-uh, that's not dumb," Angus said. "I've liked you for... I don't know, I guess since that first day too. We had, um, heard that a girl was coming to Barton, and I didn't really care too much, but I heard how much the other guys cared, and it... I don't know, it became a contest on how little I cared. But then I saw you... Heard you laugh... Watched you sneak a cigarette behind the bleachers during a football game..." You laughed, as did Angus, and his big hand came to cup your face, angling you to look at him. "But I think I really, really fell for you when I kissed her."

"Huh?" you asked, wrinkling your nose.

Angus rolled his eyes, obviously a little abashed by his admission. "Listen, I'm a teenage boy, it's in my nature to daydream about you," he started. "I had dreamed about what it would be like to be your boyfriend, to kiss you, to have my first kiss with you... Then, Elise kissed me, and, when I opened my eyes, I was sorta disappointed to see her and not you."

"Oh," you said softly.

"You went upstairs, and I went after you to try to talk to you about that," Angus said. "And then Mary, and... But yeah. I've just been too chickenshit to tell you before now."

"Well..." you whispered, listening to the quiet rumble of Hunham's car come from around the street corner. "Thank God for Elise."

"Don't you ever say her name again," Angus told you, and he leaned down to kiss you again. You were acutely aware of how Hunham and Mary could certainly see you two necking in the middle of the sidewalk, but you didn't care. Hunham said to work it out, and so you had.

The blaring of the old Buick's horn made Angus pull away from you, and you heard the window squeak down before Hunham shouted "Will you two quit and get inside the goddamn car?"

"Take it easy on 'em," Mary said as you slid into the backseat, followed by Angus.

"Yeah," Angus said. "Take it easy on us."

"I don't need your sass, Mr. Tully," Hunham said, glaring at you two in the rearview mirror. "Now I have to find a way to separate you two at night, no more sleeping in the same room, no more..."

You didn't care to hear Hunham's ramblings; you leaned your head on Angus's shoulder, you took his hand in yours, and you closed your eyes. Maybe the rest of break would be okay.

#bex answers #anon ask #angus tully x reader #angus tully #the holdovers #dominic sessa

[corroded-hellfire]

With Eliza at school and Luke nervous about a little girl a thought came to me.

How would Eddie react when Eliza came home and I just talked about a boy giving her things, like a picture of them holding hands?

And Luke talking to reader, asking how her dad made her fall in love with him.

Obviously you don't have to do this if you don't want to.

I love you.

This request just seemed like the perfect one for @munson-blurbs and me to write for Valentine's Day. I hope you enjoy and that Cupid shoots all of you in your wonderful butts with an arrow 💘

Warnings: smut, oral, f receiving, male masturbation, pregnant!reader, older!eddie

Words: 2.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Little Eliza Munson slides her glittery green Little Mermaid backpack off and sets it down on the coffee table in the living room. Her small Mary Janes had been kicked off near the front door and now she tucks her pink sock-clad feet beneath her as she unzips the bag. 

First out comes the folder that her homework is always secured safely inside. Keeping with the theme of Disney Princesses, a smiling Mulan stares up at Eliza as she opens the folder. Before she can get to her homework though, a drawing slips out and floats down onto the carpet next to her. Heaving a sigh and rolling her brown doe eyes in annoyance, she snaps the folder closed as Luke traipses into the room.

Drawings weren’t uncommon in the Munson household. In fact, there was probably a drawing from every member of the family hanging on the over-crowded fridge. But as Luke glimpsed this slightly crumpled paper next to his sister on the navy carpet, he knew he didn’t recognize the style—or lack thereof—from anyone in the house. 

“Liza, whatcha got?” he asks his sister. 

“A drawing from my boyfriend,” Eliza replies, nonchalantly. 

A loud bang and a murmured “shit” from the kitchen has Luke snorting in amusement at what was obviously their dad’s reaction to Eliza’s little announcement. 

“Oooh, Liza likes a boooooy!” Luke teases as he walks over towards her. He bends over to pick the drawing up, but Eliza snatches it and slams it down on the table in front of her before he can. 

The little girl wrinkles her nose in disgust. “Ew, no! I don’t like him. He’s always eating sand from the sandbox.”

Ryan pokes his head in from the kitchen, his mouth full of food like he hasn’t eaten in days. “Hey, Luke used to do that.” He strolls over to his siblings. Luke glares at his older brother as he continues speaking. “When did you finally stop? Last month, right?” Eliza giggles and it diverts Ryan’s attention back to her. “Then why is he your boyfriend if you don’t like him?” The oldest Munson sibling takes a seat down on the floor next to the little girl. He tilts his head as he inspects the drawing the boy made for her. Ryan is able to make out that it’s supposed to be Eliza holding someone’s hand—presumably the boy who drew it. The little hearts around their heads in reds, pinks, and purples add the final touch.

Eliza shrugs. “Cuz he said so.”

“Who said what?” Eddie asks as he comes into the living room. He’s caught wind of what’s going on from being just on the other side of the wall in the kitchen, but he doesn’t wanna come in ready to send this four-year-old boy with a crush on his daughter to Siberia. “Please don’t tell me you listened to Luke again. Didn’t you learn your lesson when we had to unglue those shoes from your feet?”

Luke throws his arms in the air. “Why am I being attacked like this today? You know what, I’m going to find the one person in this family who actually likes me.”

Ryan smirks to himself and can’t help adding, “Wormy Munson died when you were four, dude. He’s long gone.”

Luke flips him the bird as he walks out of the room. Eddie crouches down and looks over the drawing with Ryan when Luke returns with you in tow. 

“It’s them,” Luke says in a whiney voice, pointing to his older brother and father.

You sigh and shake your head as you rest your hand on your swollen belly. “Why are you all picking on my son?” You wrap your arms around Luke the best you can in your heavily pregnant state and press a kiss to the side of his head. “My little angel did nothing wrong.”

“Yeah,” Luke adds petulantly, and it transports you back to when he was five. Ryan rolls his eyes and Eddie lets out a bark of laughter. Even Eliza isn’t buying it. Luke pretends to recover from his ordeal and turns to the little girl. “Okay, Eliza,” he says to his sister, “tell Mom what you just told us.”

“My boyfriend drawed me a picture, but he’s gross and I don’t like him.”

“He’s only her boyfriend because he said he was,” Ryan tells you. 

“Honey,” you say with a soft sigh, “if you don’t like someone, you can say ‘no, thank you.’”

“And if he doesn’t listen, you can always hit him with the one-two.” Luke demonstrates by punching the air. 

Eddie shakes his head and waves his hands in front of him. “Absolutely not.” You breathe a sigh of relief that he’s putting an end to Luke’s bad advice until he says, “you gotta kick, too. Aim for the—”

“Okay, that’s enough violence for our four-year-old, thank you very much.” You waddle your way into the kitchen and open the cupboard to find one of the few boxes that haven’t been ravaged by teenage boys. “Who wants fruit snacks?”

“Not Liza’s boyfriend,” Ryan snickers. “He’s still full from all the sand.”

Luke looks at you for a moment but doesn’t speak until you’ve handed a pouch of fruit snacks to Eliza. “Was Dad your first boyfriend?”

Eddie wraps his arms around your growing middle. “No, but I was her last,” he teases, kissing your cheek with an exaggerated mwah!

The boys mirror each other with their grossed-out faces. Luke shakes it off though and playfully nudges his father out of the way with his shoulder.

“So then how did he make you fall in love with him instead of with another boy?” he asks. 

An instinct is telling you that there’s more behind this line of questioning than simple curiosity of your and Eddie’s relationship, but you know better than to pry in front of his siblings—or his dad, for that matter. 

Taking advantage of the others being occupied by the snack, you tug Luke towards the front of the living room and plop down on a couch with him. You’re facing him as much as you can with a seven-month pregnant belly, adjusting to a comfortable position.  

“So, what do you want to know?” you start off asking Luke, keeping your eagerness to a minimum. The last thing you want to do is scare him away by seeming too excited. 

“Well, like…” Luke looks down and picks at a loose thread on his sock. “What made you want to be with dad? Like, you were in college when you two met. There were all those college guys, but you wanted dad. Why? What did he do to…get your attention, I guess?”

Your memory flashes back to when you first met Eddie. It feels like you’re watching a mini movie in your brain about how the two of you ended up together, a reel that wouldn’t be allowed on cable TV. The story isn’t exactly something you want to tell your son, so you comb through to find the bits that can be given as advice. 

“What did he do to get my attention?” You shrug and shake your head. “There wasn’t something he specifically did that made me want to be with him. It was a bunch of things that make up who he is. The first thing that caught my attention though was seeing how great of a dad he is to you two boys. You guys just adored him, and he’d do anything for you. It melted my heart.”

Luke chews on his lower lip as he considers your words. “So, there wasn’t something that he…bought you or anything?” He scrunches up his nose in contemplation. 

“Luke,” you say with a kind chuckle. “You can’t buy someone’s affection.” When he stays silent, you decide to press your luck. “Is there any particular reason you’re asking?”

His cheeks go pink; it makes you think how bashfulness is an odd look on the boy who is seemingly unfazed by everything. 

“There’s, um, this girl at school. And I was gonna ask her to the Valentine’s dance, but I don’t wanna look like an idiot.”

You smile. Mystery solved. Honestly, you should have known that Luke would be experiencing these kinds of feelings sooner rather than later. “Part of liking someone is taking that risk,” you tell him. “Although I highly doubt you’ll look like an idiot.”

“Yeah, I guess.” He shrugs, not fully satisfied with that response. “I just don’t wanna do too much, but I also don’t wanna do too little.”

The gift question makes more sense now. Usually, Luke’s gift-giving was reserved for birthdays or bribery, but it looks like he was making an exception to the rule. 

“Well, maybe you could get her a rose? Just one, not a whole bouquet,” you suggest. “And then you can ask her to the dance.”

“You think that will work?” Luke asks, a nervous quiver in his voice. 

It breaks your heart to see him this anxious, and you wish you could make certain that his plan will be successful. 

“Since I don’t know this girl, all I can say is that it should work. And if it doesn’t, she’s not worth your time because she doesn’t realize how thoughtful and caring you are.” You think for a second and then add, “not to mention hilarious.”

“And devastatingly handsome,” he quips with a straight face, making you giggle.

“Of course, that too.”

Your youngest son stands up from the couch and presses a kiss to the top of your hair. Pregnancy hormones have you tearing up as you remember when you used to do that to him. 

“Thanks, Ma.”

Luke helps you off the couch and as you walk closer to the kitchen you can hear your husband and daughter conversing. 

Eddie stands in front of Eliza with a serious expression. “Now, what do we tell boys we don’t like when they like you?”

“No, thanks!”

“Right!” He offers her his hand, and she slaps him five. “And now what do we tell boys if you do like them?”

Eliza thinks for a moment before remembering the answer. “I got a tall Daddy and crazy big brothers.”

“That’s my girl!”

Luke walks past and chimes in. “Tell them one of your brothers went insane from scurvy. Like it seeped into his brain and turned him into a flesh-eating zombie.”

The little girl makes a grossed-out face, giggling when Eddie gently slaps him upside the head. As if wanting to join in, you feel a kick from within your belly. 

“You wanna know how I snagged this gorgeous lady?” Eddie puts an arm around you and looks at Luke. “Turned on the ol’ Munson charm. It’s irresistible.” 

The comment about his irresistible charm plays on a loop all evening. Once the kids go to bed, it’s time for you to see if you can whip up some charm of your own. 

While Eddie brushes his teeth, you strip down to nothing. Well, nothing but the necklace he gave you on the night you two first slept together. The night you’d finally felt him inside you after months of using your own fingers and pretending it was him. The night he promised to knock you up with his babies. 

Mission accomplished. 

He walks back into the bedroom, his eyes immediately drawn to the pendant resting between your milk-filled breasts. 

“Jesus, baby.” He practically flies into bed and starts kissing you. His burgeoning erection presses against your thigh through his boxers. 

You tilt your head slightly, so he knows to move his lips to your neck. “Been thinkin’ about you, Eds. How good you treat me, how loved you make me feel…”

Eddie’s fingers find your clit and make precise circular motions. “Always gonna treat you good. Like my goddamn princess.” His mouth finds your collarbone. “The way you look when you’re pregnant…god damn.”

Smiling, you start to push yourself up, but he shakes his head. “I wanna spoil you tonight.” He positions himself between your thighs, licking a gentle stripe up your folds. “Tastes so fuckin’ sweet. Here, see for yourself.” He leans over your stomach and kisses you so you can taste your own arousal on his tongue. 

“‘S all about you tonight,” Eddie promises. He lowers himself back down and buries his nose in your pubic hair. His tongue glides over your clit, softly at first, but gradually increases in pressure. 

“Mhm, y-yes. R-Right there,” you murmur, relishing in the build-up to the stimulation. 

Eddie’s hips rut against the mattress as he wraps his arms around your thighs to pull himself closer to you. The feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair has him surging towards painfully hard. 

The soft moans and whimpers that float from your sweet lips break Eddie’s resolve and he reaches down to wrap a hand around his aching cock. He strokes himself in time with the flicks of his tongue over your aroused clit. 

“Eddie…Eddie—oh!” You throw your head back against the pillows. A pleasant warmth grows within you and it has you arching your back, legs tightening around your husband’s head. 

“Gonna cum,” you whimper.

“That’s my girl,” Eddie says against your dripping, throbbing pussy. “Cum for me, princess.”

Sparks dance in your vision as your orgasm breaks over you. It makes its way throughout your body, curling into every corner until it feels the absolute euphoria that Eddie brought you. 

Trying to catch your breath, you watch with dark eyes as Eddie pushes himself up to his knees. You know what he wants, so you lay down as flat as you can so it’s easier for him to crawl over you. 

Eddie’s still fisting his cock, the tip angry and leaking precum. He manages to straddle your body and braces himself with one hand pressed on the mattress right beside your head. His other hand works over his cock until the rhythm becomes erratic—your husband’s telltale sign that he’s about to cum. You only encourage this by arching your back and presenting your enlarged breasts and rounded stomach to him. 

With one final growl, Eddie releases over your bare skin. You watch as the pearly white lines make patterns across your belly with each pump of his fist over his cock. There’s so much and you love it. 

Once he’s finally spent, Eddie collapses down on the bed next to you. You miss when he’d just fall down onto you after sex, but the growing in your womb has put a pin in that for the time being. 

Neither you nor Eddie want to clean his cum from your body, but Eddie grabs his boxers and takes his time in cleaning you. If he went over your nipples more than once or maybe give a tit a squeeze here and there, what of it?

After a few attempts, you manage to roll onto your side so you’re lying face to face with your husband. He leans in closer and gently presses his nose against yours. 

“You always make me feel so good,” you say softly.

Eddie smiles and it makes your heart kick up. That smile will never lose its magic. 

“The pleasure is all mine,” Eddie replies sleepily. 

You lean in the last few inches and press your lips against Eddie’s. 

“Happy Valentine’s Day, baby,” you say.

“It’s not Valentine's Day yet,” Eddie says with a soft chuckle. 

“True,” you say as you curl up into his chest. “But I don’t need that day to tell you and show you how much I love you.”

“You’re right, sweetheart.” Eddie smiles and presses a kiss to the top of your head. “You’re my Valentine every day.” 

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #older!eddie #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #dad!eddie #eddie munson imagine #AYW #AYWS #request

[princessbrunette]

lamb!reader is rather restless.

“oh he just — that jj boy is such a character. his teasing is incessant, he picks on me constantly and he’s just so crass!” you dramatically pace around the elegantly decorated living room of your home, stomping your white mary janes across the rug.

your mother — carla limbrey sits in her chair, her crutch propped by her side as she stares exhausted into space, listening to your tireless rambles.

“so why do you spend your time with him then? why do you spend time with any of them?” she croaks slowly, clearly too tired for this conversation to begin with — her mind on more important matters.

“its just until i find my footing around the outerbanks and i can find some other friends. this jj boy is clouding my thoughts and even my prayers.”

your mother clears her throat, grabbing her crutch decidedly to leave the room to head to her office. by habit, you run to her side, helping her out of the chair as she finds her balance. before she goes to hobble away, the spindly woman turns to you, looking down at you from her stance.

“well then to me that sounds like you have a crush on him. open your eyes.” her voice carries that know-it-all quality that only mothers who know their children can possess and your face falls, a pout forming on your face as you watch her slowly but surely leave you with your own thoughts.

he bounces into the seat beside you the next day. sitting too close, arm wound around you too comfortably, smelling too much like the fresh open water he’d recently dived into headfirst. you squint, because he’d knocked you out of your thoughts and your fingers come up by habit to fiddle with your cross necklace.

“y’quiet today, little lamb. whassup?” he tilts his head and you huff.

“nothing, and you’re wet.” you shrug him off, feeling his warm damp skin leave its remanence on the back of your white dress.

“such a grump. y’know i thought you catholics were meant to be nice to everyone n’stuff. love thy neighbour…” the blonde wiggles his fingers beneath your chin and for some unknown reason you nearly let yourself smile. embarrassingly enough, jj notices this and grins himself. “t’aw, that tickle?”

“so inappropriate.” you let the smile pass through only slightly, too tired from running around with the pogues to fight it.

“yeah, you like it.” he teases, and your uppity glare returns.

“no. i don’t.” you argue, which only makes the boy laugh as you’re just too easy to wind up.

“then why’d you come here, huh? if you hate us sooo much, why are you standin’ there at the dock every day waiting for john b to roll up on his boat?” he smirks, leaning back victoriously. your mind shoots back to your mothers voice, telling you that it was likely you had a thing for jj and you audibly shake the thought off, squeezing your eyes shut for a moment. when you open them once more, you’ve composed yourself.

“you’re my friends. i just wish you’d stop teasing me. i am still adjusting to the way things are around here.” you speak honestly, and jj’s icy cold heart thaws ever so slightly. maybe he was being a little difficult. for the rest of the day, he eases up — and it doesn’t go unnoticed.

it’s that same night you’re back home, stirring a tea in the kitchen when your mother hobbles in on her crutch looking tired and haggard as usual.

“its late, you should be resting.” your forehead creases as your brows furrow, glancing up from the circular motion your spoon was making.

“i was having a conversation with a historian on the porch.” she sighs as she passes through. “i believe there is something out there waiting for you to collect.” she nods before disappearing to go to her bedroom. frowning, you take your steaming tea and pad out the front door in your little night gown, hoping no one was around to see you dressed indecently. at first you see nothing, but soon your eyes focus in on something sat on the first step up to your grand wooden porch. following the item, you sit on the step — placing your tea beside you and picking up the mystery item.

in your hand sits a small fluffy lamb, a stuffed animal. she’s adorable, with big black glittering eyes and a pink ribbon fashioned around her neck in a bow. attached, a small card.

in messy scrawl, it reads:

Sorry for picking on ya

You’re pretty cool, lamb chop.

— JJ :)

maybe he wasn’t so awful after all.

#div by roseraris #friendly reminder that limbreys daughter can be adopted or by blood it doesn’t matter #jj maybank prompt #lamb!reader

[live-love-be-unique]

Put your sweet lips on my lips

Summary: when your dad invites his new boss and his family for dinner you had no idea you’d be spending the evening with your high school crush and sharing a hot encounter in your home library with your parents downstairs.

Parings: Steve Harrington x freader

Warnings: sexual content (18+ minors dni), fingering (f receiving), oral (f receiving)

18+ Minors DNI

“Now remember, tonight is a very important night for your father” your mother says, tying a pink ribbon into your hair. She’d chosen everything for you and your dad to wear tonight, you all had to impress “We need to make a good impression” your dad had gotten a promotion and your parents had invited your dad’s new boss and his family for dinner and your mother was obsessed with making sure everything was picture perfect.

“Honey, Where’s my tie?” Your dad’s deep voice sounded down the hallway, as he walked into your room, buttoning his shirt. “Really Richard” your mother huffed as she went to find the tie that she had so carefully laid out for him on their dresser this morning.

“You look beautiful, peanut” he said warmly as you looked over at yourself in the mirror, hands smoothing down over the skirt of the dress your mother had picked out for you to wear tonight.

“Thanks Dad” you smiled as he kissed the top of your head. Your mother walked back into your room, helping your dad put his tie on.

“I bought two bottles of champagne, do you think that will be enough?” Your mother fussed about, going over everything as you and your dad followed her into the living room.

“It will be perfect, Mary” your father soothed, placing a gentle kiss on your mother's temple.

A sharp knock at the door broke the sweet moment. Your parents stood in front of the large mirror by the front door and made sure they looked as polished as possible, your mother smoothing a few invisible flyaways from your hair before your dad opened the front door, a beaming smile gracing his face. “Mr Harrington” he said warmly, shaking the other man’s hand.

Your dad ushered the Harringtons into your home, introducing them to you and your mother “and this must be young Steve?” Your father said, noticing the younger man as he walked through the front door.

If only your teenage self could be here right now, she’d have a fit! Your high school crush Steve Harrington was standing in your living room, shaking hands with your dad and making small talk with your mother. He looked like the kind of boy you would find in a Teen Beat magazine, with his pretty eyes and perfect hair and his easy smile just dripping with charm.

Then Steve turns and smiles at you as he says your name and oh shit, it’s not just a high school crush anymore.

Your mother ushered everyone towards the dining room as dinner was served, she’d spent all day on the perfect dinner party menu of Niçoise salad, steak diane and an amaretto brûlée for dessert.

Your dad was right of course, the night was going off without a hitch, your parents and the Harringtons getting along like a house on fire.

After dinner everyone had made their way to the living room with wines and port to relax, reminiscing about their youths; telling tales of escapades they had gotten up too, you’d stayed behind cleaning up the dinnerware and taking it to the kitchen. As your dad asked Steve his plans for the future you snuck off to your dad’s small office that housed your family’s library of books. That’s where he found you, leaning against shelves flipping through a book.

“So this is where you’re hiding?” Steve says, ditching his sports jacket onto the small desk by the door.

“Dinner parties aren’t really my thing” you chuckled.

“Mine either, too much schmoozing and trying to impress people” he smirks, falling into the large plush armchair, arm draped over the back, “I remember you, from school, you know”

“You do?”

“Sure, you sat up the back of Mrs Potter’s class. You always had your head in a book” Steve said, nodding his head towards the shelves of books that littered the room.

“I didn’t think you’d remember me, I wasn’t exactly memorable”

“Of course I would” he muttered, picking at a thread on one of the cushions. “So, what are you reading?” He gestured to the book in your hands.

Realizing you’d picked up one of your mothers Harlequin romance novels, something about a mountain man and his mail order bride, you tried to hide the cover of the novel against your chest, crossing your arms over it in an effort to avoid further embarrassment.

“Come on” Steve smirked, standing up and strolling closer to you “show me” he’d seen the blush that coloured your cheeks “it’s a dirty book, isn’t it?!”

“It’s not mine” you protested as he grabbed the book from your hands and opened it to the page you were on.

It was now Steve’s turn to blush, the page you were reading was of course one of the more raunchy chapters in the book.

“This is what you like huh? He pushed her against the wall, his large hands gripping her tight as she felt his large…” he read a line from the open page as you reached for the book.

Steve moved to hold the book away from you as he kept reading, he was a full head taller then you so he had no trouble. In the struggle you ended up between Steve and the bookshelf, one of his large warm hands holding your hip tightly as his deep brown eyes bore down on you with intensity.

“Tell me to stop and I will. Just say the word and I’ll walk away” you didn’t say a word, you couldn’t say anything, not with the way Steve was looking at you.

One of Steve’s hands moved to cup your cheek as he leaned in and kissed you. Body pressing against you as he deepened the kiss. His lips combined with his hands traveling all over your body causing all thoughts to leave your head except for one, Steve.

One of his large, warm hands grasps onto your thigh, hoisting it up against his hip as he looks into your eyes, silently questioning if you want to continue. You nod, not trusting your voice.

He slides a hand up underneath your skirt, fingers dancing up along your thighs and he maneuvers he trails his fingers along the lace on the outside of your underwear, teasing you. He finally touches the growing wet spot between your legs and over your underwear and then he dips his fingers inside you causing you to gasp. His lips pressed against the skin of your collarbone while he continues to slide his fingers in and out of you at a torturously slow pace that made you lose your mind.

“Steve?” You gasped as he kissed his way across your face and down your neck. You gripped him tighter as his lips found a particularly sensitive spot at the junction of your neck and shoulder.

“Yeah baby?” He groans against your skin.

“I…I need…” your brain couldn’t form a coherent thought, not with the way Steve’s hands roamed over your body, setting every nerve on fire and not with the way his lips felt against your neck.

“I know, I know, I’ve got you baby”

Then Steve sinks to his knees and gazes up at you with those deep brown eyes, watching your every reaction as he lifts your skirt and bunches it around your waist, he drags your underwear down your legs and Steve groans as his warm hands keep your thighs spread open for him “You’re so pretty, you know that, baby?”

You watch as he licks his lips and stares at your body like he’s about to have the most delicious meal ever, savoring the sight of you like he’s got all day to do it, the raucous laughter of your parents drowned out by your heart beating out of your chest.

“Keep your eyes on me” he breathed and places soft kisses to your hips.“please I need to see you” he teases you with his tongue, moaning at the taste of you, your hands are in his hair holding him against you. You moan his name in a fractured sigh, with your other hand you lace your fingers together with his at your hip. You don't even care that your parents are downstairs, the only thing you can think about is him. and, fuck, it feels so good.

Steve eats you out like he’s a man starved, like he’s drunk on your taste. Threading your fingers through his hair, gripping a little as he moans into you.

“That’s it baby, I need to hear you” oh god, he’s so good at this You think as you arch your back needing to feel him even closer if that was possible.

All at once you feel the familiar knot in your belly tightening and you have to bite your hand to stop from crying out Steve’s name as stars explode behind your eyelids.

Steve places gentle kisses on your thighs as you come down from your impossible high. “Oh my god” you giggled breathlessly as Steve stood up in front of you grinning, eyes darkened with lust.

“I hope that was better than your book” Steve smirked and leaned in for another heated kiss as your parents called for you, the Harringtons were leaving.

“Now remember” Mrs Harrington said to your mother as you and Steve rejoined your parents “dinner is at our house next weekend, and don’t you bring a thing!” The two women laughed as you and Steve shared a look.

Another dinner party, you thought to yourself the perfect opportunity for me to return the favor.

Taglist: @m-blasterrr, @mvnsonslvt, @neymac21174, @maybe-not-this, @seatnights, @wheezyhyperfixates, @grunge-the-freak, @ettadear, @artsyfartsytheaterkid, @lma1986

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x female reader smut

[fayes-fics]

When The World Is Free: Chapter 9 - Partance

MASTERPOST PREV | NEXT

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, WW2 AU.

Warnings: A tiny touch of spice... some making out, celebrations and some more late-night confessions.

Word Count: 3.4k

Author’s Note: Multi-chapter fic based on a request by the lovely @amillcitygirl. Please see the masterpost for a synopsis of this story. This is when we find out if their whole gamble pays off... Happy Valentine’s Day! This is my gift to you 🫶 Also, be warned that the rating will increase in the next chapter. 😉 Thanks to @colettebronte for beta reading. Enjoy!

Montivilliers (just outside Le Havre), September 1939

You awaken early to the smell of fresh coffee brewing. A glance into the living room, as you wander downstairs towards the enticing scent, shows the sofa is already rearranged and blankets neatly stowed, as if not slept on at all - a little twinge behind your ribs at Benedict’s forethought around the ruse you shared a bed last night.

Almost reluctant, you enter the kitchen, and there he is, pouring two cups from the cafetière, the sunlight catching the ring on his finger as he does so. Your husband. Benedict Bridgerton. He twists, and you see he is wearing glasses, taking you by surprise. On the table, you spy a newspaper open. You are momentarily embarrassed that you are married to a man you know so little about; you didn't even know he wore reading glasses.

“Good morning,” his greeting is soft but apprehensive. 

“Good morning,” you mumble back, taking the proffered cup from him without quite letting your fingers touch.

Guilt eats at your soul as you take a seat, the creak of the old chair as you sit down seeming so loud in the otherwise silent room - guilt about pushing him too far with kissing, guilt about your confession, as if you burdened his sleeping subconscious with an unfair weight. It makes the need to talk about anything else bubble up within you.

“I had an idea,” you break the silence as he takes a seat. He says nothing in response, just looks at you expectantly. “We could pretend our relationship developed long distance. Say that we met through Eloise a few years ago? But were both with other people at the time. Perhaps we wrote to each other and, over time, grew close? I thought we could write some ‘fake’ love letters this morning. Fold them up, make them look a little old and creased, you know, and then exchange? Carry the letters as if we truly sent them to each other. It doesn't have to be many. Maybe 3 or 4? Backdated, of course.”

As you talk, his face lights up. “It’s brilliant!” he enthuses quietly, whipping off his glasses. “It's the perfect explanation! Then it makes sense I rush to Paris to rescue you! And my sister. The outbreak of war made me realise what you truly mean to me,” he spitballs, talking fast, gesturing animatedly. “It would explain our whirlwind marriage too - that we couldn't live another day apart without…. without being together with the looming uncertainty of war.”

His chair drags loudly across the tile as he stands up rapidly, grabs your hands, and hauls you up and into an embrace, lifting you off the ground and twirling around—a spontaneous celebration.

“You are brilliant!” he exclaims fervently, and then your lips find each other impromptu. A kiss that starts as a mere brush to seal the pact rapidly morphs into something else. Before you know it, your mouths are open, tongues tangled, and he is hoisting you higher in his arms, his hands grabbing your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist so your nightgown rides up to your hips, the heat of his pelvis crushed against yours through thin cotton pyjamas….

And that is the sight which greets the returning homeowners and Eloise. 

A loud squeak from Marie has you rocketing apart, sliding down his torso back to your feet, cheeks aflame. But it's too late. There is no way to deny what they walked in upon-–you wrapped around Benedict’s body as you kiss fiercely.

“Wow… I miss that passion,” Jerome wisecracks in a bid to break the tension.

Although she is silent, the look on Eloise’s face is one you won't soon forget—shock, abhorrence but a streak of inquisition, as if taking on new information and filing it away. 

You and Benedict both mutter apologies in unison, which seems to charm your hosts even more into good-natured joshing as they unpack croissants and jams from a wicker basket.

“A breakfast for our newlyweds,” Marie chimes with a wink. “I’m sure you need sustenance after a night like yours.”

In some ways, although mortifying, you cannot deny the cinch they caught you in does not exactly hurt the illusion of you being a real couple.

And so you all take a seat and begin breakfast together. Each treat on the table is delicious, and the conversation flows easily.

“You do know Solene will be mad she was not invited to the wedding,” Eloise remarks offhand at one point.

“Pssh! Let me deal with my sister,” Marie counters with an almost stereotypical Gallic shrug and a dismissive chuckle. 

—

With a couple of hours until your sailing, you pack the few things you unpacked in the last couple of days and then turn to letter writing as Eloise reads. You sit outside, a delicate breeze over your sleeves as Benedict joins you. You agree on some dates and then fall silent as you pick up pen and paper and compose letters. 

Yours don't feel sophisticated, but they feel honest - writing about actual events back home and more recently in Paris to lend an air of believability, interspersed with words of affection, longing, and hope to be reunited. Your final letter is dated the day war was declared, expressing a need to see him as soon as possible.

You have no idea what Benedict is writing, but his intensity and speed impress you, pages seeming to pile up around his elbows as you see glimpses of his elegant, looped script.

“I just have much to say, that’s all,” he responds, somewhat enigmatic when you express your concern that his letters appear much longer than yours.

—

Before you know it, Jerome and Marie are dropping you off at the port in Le Havre, hugging you all so tightly with promises of letters, telegrams, and phone calls. You will certainly miss them and Solene; they have been so welcoming to you, even for such a short period.

Benedict wraps an arm around your shoulder as a porter loads your cases onto a trolley and accompanies you to the boarding queue.

“Just like we practised,” he turns his head and murmurs into your ear so only you hear. 

And then he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you, instantly opening your mouth under his, your pulse racing even among the crowd.

“Do you mind?” Eloises hisses, disgust evident on her face.

Breaking the kiss, you giggle and bury your face in Benedict's shoulder as he shoots her his trademark elder brother look of derision.

“Do you want your best friend to come with us to England or not, sister? Because we have to look married and madly in love,” he points out, his arm stroking your back.

“You don't have to swallow her face,” Eloise grouses, folding her arms and narrowing her eyes as she pouts, looking aside.

“The more convincing, the better,” he counters, but their dispute is interrupted by your being called forward to the desk.

After asking for your tickets and passport, the surly young man looks at your passport and frowns.

“Are you planning to remain in the UK?” His ask is terse.

“Yes,” you reply, clear but polite.

“Reason?”

“She is my wife,” Benedict cuts in, that arm back across your shoulders.

“Do you have proof?” the man looks sceptical.

Benedict produces the marriage certificate from a folio in his case. 

The man scans the document, his frown deepening. “You got married yesterday?” His questioning tone raises the attention of others nearby.

Your heart leaps into your mouth as a face you recognise materialises from behind a glass office. It's Theo Sharpe - the young soldier Eloise met in the bistro a few days ago.

“Is there a problem here, Jones?” he asks with an official tone.

“These two just got married. I have concerns…”

Theo peers at Benedict and you as if assessing you as a couple.

“What sort of concerns? They look in love to me…”

“We have letters!” you pipe up, nerves jangling.

“Letters?”

“Love letters we have written to each other over the months.” Benedict takes over. “When war broke out, I had to come and rescue the woman I loved. And then I could not resist proposing. And yes, we married yesterday. Sirs, you likely know better than anyone - war brings clarity to a man’s heart like nothing else. I could not go another day without her being my wife…” his speech is reserved but impassioned, and when he is done, he tucks you under his arm, kissing your forehead. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Eloise frown as he hands over your letters, and you do the same with his from your handbag. Theo takes the pile and unfolds them, his eyebrow rising at something in one from Benedict’s pile.

“Jones, tell me that is not the sign of a man in love,” he tilts the page to his fellow soldier, seemingly pointing to a particular line.

The man coughs and runs a finger into his collar.  “Oh… well… yes…” he seems to stumble, his cheeks heating.

What on earth did Benedict write?

“I think we can safely say they are a real couple, can't we?” Theo argues, refolding the letters and handing them back to you.

“Yes, yes, I think so…” the man agrees hesitantly.

“Well then, please issue the lady with the paperwork for residency,” Theo prompts, almost impatient.

You can barely contain the furl of excitement as the man dutifully grabs an official certificate and transfers your details, passing it under an embossing stamp and placing it inside your passport.

“Welcome to the United Kingdom, Mrs Bridgerton,” he smiles tightly as you see Theo shoot Eloise the briefest of winks behind the man’s back.

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe, almost stunned into a quiet silence, as again you are in Benedict's strong embrace. 

“Well done, you were perfect,” he assures a few moments later as you walk up the ramp onto the ferry, his arms never having left your shoulders since. 

With reality finally setting in, relief and elation radiate from inside - like the sunny day seeping into your being, making you feel the lightest you have felt in weeks. You can't help the grin you shoot him and drop a chaste kiss on his cheek.

“All thanks to you,” you demure as you cross onto the deck, “I owe you my life.”

“You owe me no such thing,” he counters immediately and sincerely. “Your idea - the letters - that is what sealed your future. You are much smarter and stronger than you give yourself credit for,” he adds, his tone ardent, a hand tenderly cupping your jaw as his thumb strokes your cheek. 

Again, you find yourself lost in his eyes.

“God’s sake, you can quit the mooning now, you idiots,” Eloise gripes and elbows Benedict unceremoniously out of the way, drawing you into a bear hug. “I’m so happy!” she chimes into your ear.

“Me too,” you reply, laughing joyously, hugging her back as fiercely.

“I may have planned for this,” she winks, withdrawing to pull a bottle of champagne from her bag with a flourish. 

And so, as the ferry pulls out of port and enters the English Channel, the three of you raise a toast to France as you watch the shoreline slip away. A kaleidoscope of emotions washing over you - a bittersweet farewell to your all-too-short French adventure, but also excitement and apprehension for the start of something new. A stay in England. And a new husband, well, sort of. For the first time, the future feels completely unwritten in a way that is freeing.

—

When you arrive in Portsmouth that evening, you immediately head for the stately Royal Maritime Hotel by the port. But there is a snag when you get to the check-in desk. The late hour and no reservation means only one room is left—with one double bed. 

“I will sleep on the floor,” Benedict offers, ever the gentleman, as you all accept the room, knowing it's likely a similar story in all the other hotels with this many people escaping mainland Europe.

After dropping your luggage, you all head to dinner, which becomes drinks in a local bar, all of you wanting the celebratory mood to last a little longer. You nurse just one drink while Eloise seems determined to drain the port city dry, tipsily wandering off to the little dancefloor in the back room. 

At some later point, while Benedict is at the bar paying the tab, Eloise returns, sidling up to your seat and loops her arms around you.

“You know how much I love you…?” 

“What do you want, Eloise?” you chuckle, patting her elbow as you let her sway you with her hug.

“I've met someone,” she whispers excitedly, her breath sweetened by brandy, “and I realllllly like him. His name is Phillip. He’s lovellllyyy,” she singsongs.

“That's nice. But what does that have to do with me?” you ask, amused.

“If I were to spend the evening with him, would that be okay? With you?” 

“You've never asked my permission to enjoy your previous dalliances, El; why now?” You are finding her thoroughly entertaining.

“Becaaaaause it means you will be stuck alone in a room with my brother,” she spells out. “And no woman should have to endure that,” she counsels with faux gravity, only mildly undermined by her comedic look of horror.

Your stomach vaults at the idea of a night alone with Benedict in a hotel room, but you must school your face to one of casual indifference.

“El, I shared a cottage with him last night; I think I can handle it.”

“Oh yes… and what in God's name was this morning all about?” she suddenly shifts the topic, raising an eyebrow pointedly.

You do your best not to choke on your sip of cocktail. “We saw you all coming up the path. Benedict thought it best for the ruse if we were caught in a compromising situation,” you bluff, waving your hand dismissively, even as you feel your cheeks glowing at the mere memory.

She side-eyes you momentarily but seems to accept it, giving you one more squeeze before bidding you goodnight. Her farewell to Benedict at the bar appears to be a smack on the arm and a warning with a pointed finger—ever the loving siblings. Then, with a flutter of butterflies under your ribs about the night ahead, you and Benedict head back to the hotel.

“Thank you again,” your tone is sincere as he unlocks the room. “If we had only known Theo would be at the port, maybe we wouldn't have had to go through all we did,” you point out wincingly, still apologetic, as he secures the door closed.

“We did what we had to. We were very fortunate he was there today; it was a wonderful coincidence, but we had to prepare for any circumstance. Besides, it is all water under the bridge now. You have your paperwork. You have your residency,” he points out brightly.

“But you had to marry me….” you point out, unable to let it go, guilt still shadowing your heart. “That was a huge sacrifice.”

“I am not the one who had to break a promise to another,” he counters softly. “You had to be the brave one here. You should not think of yourself as selfish. And you should feel free to pursue whatever you want in this world, y/n.”

Something in the choice of words in his heartfelt petition seems oddly reminiscent, but you cannot pinpoint it.

“I will still sleep on the floor,” he adds reassuringly, removing his coat.

“We… we could share…?” you feel your heart pound as you extend the tentative offer. 

The look on his face is indecipherable, but you don't miss how his pupils dilate a fraction. “I promise not to kick…” his response is a genial callback to your discussion days ago.

You giggle, feeling that lightness in your being again. “And if you do, I’m sure I could find plenty of rope to remedy that. We are right by a port after all,” you can't help but banter back, gesturing to the harbour outside the window.

His responding warm laugh is like a balm.

He excuses himself to shower, and while he is gone, you unpack some basics. As you are delving in your bag for your hairbrush, the pile of letters Benedict handed you spills out. 

Intrigued, you unfold them—curious to know what Theo had seen. The letters are a thing of beauty; you find yourself crawling onto the bed to read them properly. Pages of lyrically crafted praise that make your correspondence seem entirely lacking, more akin to a boring newsletter. You find yourself swept up in reading - lines of poetry, yearning sentiments and a few racier epithets that make your breath catch and your blood run hot.

‘Every night since we met, my love, I dream of nothing but you. Endlessly. I dream of your laugh, your smile, that wonderful little crease on your forehead when you think I am being foolish. You captivate me - body and soul. I dream of that delectable noise you make when I kiss you. I dream of tasting your skin. I dream of you coming apart in my arms, grasping me so tight you leave finger marks on my body. One day, my love, one day…’

You almost jump out of your skin when Benedict reenters the room, freshly showered, his hair in damp curls, sporting a distractingly fitted white t-shirt. You attempt to conceal what you are reading, embarrassed somehow, but it’s too late.

“I was wondering if you would,” he laughs softly when he realises.

“I’m sorry,” you utter, feeling as if you have snooped somewhere you should not have.

“Don't be,” he cuts in, smiling gently.

“How did you think up such poetic stuff?” you query, fingertips tracing almost reverentially over the words. A wistful ache in your being, hoping anyone would ever be inspired to write such an elegy to you one day.

“I just told the truth,” he shrugs.

“You must’ve been in love with whoever has made you feel like this in the past,” you sigh, standing up to put the letters aside on a table, feeling as if they definitely do not belong to you. Conscious of the slim band around your left ring finger, like a guilty weight stopping him from that possible life.

There is a long pause, making you look up at him. He is drawing near, something profound burning in his expression.

“You,” he breathes finally. “You inspired this in me.”

The confession knocks the breath from your very lungs, almost a need to bend double.

“Wh….” you cannot even find enough voice to finish a simple word.

He moves closer until you are almost touching.

“I heard you…” he admits softly, his fingers encircling your wrist, then bringing your hand close to his face. “Last night, when you thought I was asleep…” a plunge of utter dread in your stomach as you realise what he means. Your confession.

Oh no.

“Benedict, I….” but you can't finish. There is no end to that sentence, even in your quick mind.

“So I thought it was only fair you have mine,” he continues, a flicker of a modest but charming smile as he tilts his head to the pile of letters. 

Your eyes cut briefly to them before darting back to him.

“Y… you dream of nothing but me…?” you stutter, parroting one of the many memorable lines, a flicker of desire and hope and yearning so strong you can't help but ask.

His smile turns crooked. “Every night…” he confirms, eyes glittering.

“A-all of it?” you can barely utter it, your cheeks heating as you recall precisely what he wrote that he dreams about.

“Every word,” he asserts before his warm lips brush the back of your knuckles. 

It's like you are thrown into a hurricane, a hundred thoughts and feelings tumbling, making your breath catch hard in your lungs. But it all converges into one singularity as you stare up into those hypnotic eyes. An overwhelming need coursing through you. For him. A longing that is tart on your tongue and deep in your core. And you are powerless to do anything but grab his neck and pull him down into a searing kiss. 

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spitt @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa

#benedict bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton imagine #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton #bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x female reader #benedict bridgerton x you #benedict bridgerton x y/n #bridgerton x reader #bridgerton x female reader #bridgerton x you #bridgerton x y/n

[surferblues]

cherry red blow ! ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

dilfelvis! austin butler x fem! reader

notes if you have a problem with 5-10 year age gaps , do not read 😵‍💫 because when i say i like dilfs... i mean DILFS

warnings smut (18+ only, minors dni), unprotected sex, intoxication, dom! elvis, praise, p in v, unestablished relationship, implied age gap, spelling errors, and obviously sexual themes.

Elvis knew who you were. Hell, all he could think about was you. He wasn't the one to get caught up with one girl, he was the type of guy who would sleep with any woman who offered .

And he was Elvis Presley, he could sleep with any woman if he could - all, but you.

He knew best to not fall under the impression you wanted him, that you were doing all that dressing up for him. You were a nanny hired by Priscilla, you made it clear the first day you were hired that you had no ill intentions of ruining the Presley name.

The way you walked around his home with those satin little dresses that covered only so much. The way you covered your lips in that damn cherry red lipstick. He couldn't help to think you knew what you were doing.

You u loved your job. truly, there was good pay, you got on so well with the presley family, the house was big and luxurious. people would kill to be in the position you were in.

You did what you usually did in preparation of coming in for your job. You made sure every hair was in place, you made sure that your clothes came from the finest sellers, and your lips always were layered in that cherry red lipstick.

You had been hired by Priscilla, her hopes of hiring a nanny to watch Lisa from time to time so Elvis and herself could rekindle the faded spark in their relationship.

You had some knowledge of their difficulties of their relationships, as you got front row view to the arguments they shared every night Elvis came home drunk with a groupie under his arm.

The pills, Elvis never being home, and the women were just helping points on why Priscilla found it so difficult to be in a relationship with Elvis. So it was safe to say you weren't surprised when Priscilla packed up her things and left Elvis, it was bound to happen sooner or later.

A part of you was relieved when you found out Elvis was a single man, another part of you was worried about it. Elvis always made it clear he went for younger girls, and with the ten year age gap between the two of you - you knew he had to think of you in such a dirty way.

it started off as a little crush, but you never pursued in actually doing anything with the older man in fear of risking your job. he was smart, and you assumed he wouldn’t ever go for the nanny of his daughter .

that was until you’d catch him eyeing your cherry glazed lips, the subtle touches near your hips when he would pass by you, and clever flirty comments began to slip out of his mouth.

something in your dynamic just... shifted.

it was one night when he arrived home from a long night of partying, and Lisa Marie was sound asleep in bed — he’d find you with a halfway full bottle of wine in your grasp.

your cheeks flushed, your words sloppily said.

"you've been out all night mr. presley."You giggled with a rasp, your eyes look over towards the door where the man stood, the slam of the front door indicating he just got to Graceland.

you took in his appearance as he came into eye view. the dark messy hair that was messy just in the perfect way, the way his tan chest peeked from the behind the white button up that was unbuttoned slightly, bloodshot eyes indicating that he may have partied a bit too hard.

just as you took him in, he took in the sight of you. your red lipstick smeared from your lips ever so slightly, your hair tousled, and the straps of your little dress falling off your shoulders as your back rested the marble table that stood in the middle of the fancy kitchen.

he began walking towards the small island where you stood, your eyes following every move he made.

"wasn't today your day off, darlin'?" he questioned curiously with that thick country twang, letting out a breathless shot of laughter before looking towards the direction where you were. "priscilla asked to me watch Lisa, she had some plans." you admitted.

he walked towards the the wooden cabinet where he kept his liquor, grabbing a empty small glass and a much larger glass full of burning liquor.

some part of you was telling you two remove yourself from the room, get as far away from Elvis as you could - but another part of you was screaming at you to stay, screaming at you to pursue your dangerous urges.

"If you prefer me to go, I can, Mr. Presley." You offered, sinking your teeth into your bottom lip as you watched Elvis's face for any sign of discomfort.

he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his body standing right across from you.

you saw the way his jaw clenched at the way you said his name, but that happened everytime the simple saying slipped out of your mouth, "oh, mr. presley."

"no, no, the more the merrier." Elvis's slurred out, pouring a shot of whiskey in his glass, hesitation laced in his voice but he quickly covered it with a shaky scoff.

"you know, it's good to call me just elvis." he met your eyes, cooing out his words. the playful expression that was on his face moments ago replaced with a more hesitant one.

"good for you or good for me?" you murmured out, your lips quirking up so riskily and daringly.

you were writing out a check you couldn't cash.

"it would save us from a whole 'lotta trouble." he raised his brows and tilted his head with a careless shrug, bringing the glass of liquor to his lips. his Adam's apple bobbing as the stinging liquid entered his body.

"trouble? i thought you liked trouble, mr. presley." you cocked your head, your words rolling off of your tounge so surely. you began readjusting your hips, the end of your satin dress riding up with every move you made.

he couldn't read the expression sprawled on your face, but you sure as hell could read his. his knitted brows, his eyes looking at you so intensely... reading you for any source of confirmation that the sinful thoughts in his head weren't only racing through his.

"i like a lot of things, sweetheart." elvis chuckled, setting down the glass of dark liqueur. his eyes taking a quick peek on the dress that was now bunched on your hips - a momentarily peek, a peek that was so quick that he was sure you wouldn't have saw.

"yeah?" you purred, deciding to be the one to make the first move out of the unspoken need you two shared. you decided to grab the glass he sat down moments ago and bring it your lips, the liquor was strong but you wouldn't show him that.

"uh, y... yeah." elvis choked out, clearing his throat as he felt sudden pressure on his cock. "good things cause a lot of trouble." he purred sinfully, he knew what your intentions were, he knew he wasn't reading this situation wrong... the next move was up to him.

he quickly recovered, shaking off the flustered state you put him in and returning to his cocky self. "good girl's, cause a lot of trouble." he teased in a readily manner, he lustfully over where you stood, watching you with nothing but pure amusement.

"oh, mr. Presley, kill me if im wrong. but i would assume your saying im a good girl?" you cooed, you quirked one of your brows, questioning the man infront of you. you sat your body on the counter, legs dangling as you looked at him curiously.

"isn't that you call a pretty little thing such as yourself, a good girl?" he rasped it so readily, his feet moved him few inches, just so he could stand in between your legs and look at your face.

your chest rose up and down in a needy way, your eyes watching the way his slowly wandered towards your bare hips. "i can be whatever your want, mr. presley." you handed him back his glass of liquor, a barely visible coat of cherry red lip stick on the rim of the glass.

"you’re gonna be a good girl for me, yeah?" he purred as he nodded, grabbing the glass from you, but never did he dare to look away from you. keeping his eyes on you as you felt his finger tips tap your soft thighs. those three taps, gesturing for you to open your legs so he could stand in between them.

and you listened, never did you hesitate. he looked down at your parted legs, oh god, how many times has he thought about this exact moment. he didn't know where to start, he just knew by before the night was over he would have kissed every inch of your body.

"how do you want me, baby?" one of his rough hands gently squeezed your hips, while the other finally began reaching the soaking lace panties that covered your pussy.

you felt his duo of fingers applying light pressure to your clit, causing a shaky whimper to leave your mouth.

"i... i just, " you trailed off, you looked down to see his hardened cock poking through his leather pants - you took a peek, a peek so quick you thought he wouldn't even notice.

"just need you inside me, mr. presley." you whimpered, rolling your hips up towards where he needed attention from you most - causing breathy moans to slip from his and your lips as you felt his needy dick rub you through your lace panties.

"that'ta girl." Elvis teased, he began slipping the wet pink lace off, a cocky smirk on his lips as he pickpocketing them. your hands traveled towards the zipper of his black leather pants, the sound of the zipper unzipping could be heard alongside your's and Elvis's needy breaths.

"so eager, baby?" he chuckled, the sound of the leather dropping to the floor - and just as quick as his pants were off, so were his boxers. there was nothing holding him back from fucking you.

precum on the tip of his hard dick, his body telling him he needed this more than anything.

" y'look so pretty like this, mama." he breathily cooed against your neck, placing sloppy kisses all over your collar bones as you and him were chest to chest. you felt his hand gently hover over your lower abdomen, pressing ever so gentle - leaving you slightly confused.

his dick began grazing over the slit of your pussy, his precum mixing with the wetness of your pussy his words he squeezed out of you. your hands gripped his shoulders, getting yourself ready and steady.

he then lined his dick with your hole, he looked at you for confirmation. you nodded readily and quickly, moving your hips that he had been gripping up a few inches. "please." you whimpered, his tip in your hole, you just needed him to completely to enter you.

and as soon as you whimpered, you felt his dick slowly filling you up. his dick was bigger than any other dick that had entered your body before. you felt your walls tighten around him, your nails burying into his shoulders as his hands squeezed your hips.

"pussy was made for me." he didn't move, letting your needy hole get used to the feeling as you both let out incoherent whimpers. his eyes squeezed shut, head buried in your shoulder, and hot and heavy breaths following.

his dick hadn't left your hole all the way when he then snapped his hips into yours, taking you by surprise as you felt his hand lift your thigh around his waist - hoping to get access to the spot that would drive insane even if he slightly grazed over it.

he set a harsh but slow pace, each thrust was better than the other. you felt yourself subconsciously rocking against his, breathy whimpers and moans slipping from his mouth was only encouraging you to continue.

He was making you feel so good, like you expected him to. His dick seemed to be made for you, all of its veins and curves hitting the right spots inside you.

you felt his hand pressed against your lower abdomen again, but this you felt something else other than his hand.

he wanted you to feel him, inside and out. so you saw the bulge of his dick with each time he slammed into you, you could basically feel that familiar Spring coil form.

"s... so damn.. " he cut him self off with a harsh thrust in your pussy, causing you to let out a high pitched moan. " tight, just for ... me."

and just if you thought that was too much, you felt his fingers press against your swollen button. pressing and tracing circles around your wet clit as his dick dipped in and out.

This pleasure filled encounter couldn’t last forever, even if you wished it could. Soon enough your walls began to clench around him, making his thrust slow down to enjoy the way you squeezed. He was choking out moans into your ear, his voice raspy and shaky.

"elvis... m'close." you whimpered shakily, his hands guiding your hips as you felt his dick pulse, the familiar feeling of your pussy getting sensitive with each time his fingers and dick did their most.

and he made sure to touch that g spot, pushing his dick into so deep that you were sure to cum any moment. "fuck!" you breathlessly moaned, everything around you went hot when his dick hit that spongy spot.

"that'ta girl." he pressing down lightly on your lower stomach so you really felt him whilst shushing you.

it was like all of the juices you had been collecting had finally released just by his dick grazing that sweet spot, your vision went white, and your body jerked into his - his arm wrapped against your body, hugging against you as he rode out his high.

you could hear the sound of yours and Elvis's cum mixing, the shaky pants you two shared, something you would never forget.

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[evvlevie]

❤️‍🔥„Evie how do I manifest xyz???“ watch me teach you manifestation basics in one post. ❤️‍🔥

Hello again! It is me: your favorite shifting blogger Evie and today we are covering the 101 of manifestation (based on the law of assumption). I get plenty of dms and asks that go along the lines of „Evie can I manifest a car?“ or „Evie can I manifest a boyfriend?“ or „Evie can I manifest to become the next president of the United States“ et cetera, et cetera.

The answer will always be as clear as day: YOU ABSOLUTELY CAN. Wanna know why I know that? BECAUSE YOU CAN MANIFEST EVERYTHING EVER 🥳🥳🥳.

„but how do I do that?“

Well this answer is gonna take some time as it is not definitive.

A lot of people like affirming as a method. Others love to visualize. Some people meditate and others listen to subliminals. I tend to get creative, I have written my manifestations on toilet paper and flushed it before and it fucking worked. What I mean to say is that there is no DEFINITIVE way to manifest stuff. If Mary can affirm like crazy and have her desire by tomorrow, this might have not worked for Jennifer. Jennifer affirmed for 169 days straight and never received her desire (because subconsciously she never thought that affirming would work). But when Jennifer lit a candle, thought about her desire and blew it out like a birthday candle, she had her desire 15 minutes later, because she always had this intuition that this would feel more natural to her.

At the end of the day: try as many things as you can, as you will naturally realize what makes sense to you and what doesn’t. I did try affirming like crazy and I never got any desire ever that way. But for example listening to music and feeling every single word sung in my heart has gotten me WAAAYYY further. There is no real reason for that other than some things work for you and some things don‘t.

„but why?“

Well. You believe certain things to be true. You might believe that there is no real love out there and that manifests and now you are lonely and in raging heartbreak. You might believe that you are the most glowing and magnetic person on this planet and for some reason that has proven itself through people thriving in your presence and begging to be near you. Because guess what. You manifested it.

„but I never intentionally tried to manifest that every person I ever interact with breaks my heart in a soul crushing manner!“

Look. You manifest literally every single aspect of your life. ALWAYS. The whole point of manifestation as I am teaching you is to consciously control the way things manifest. But you have always, are always, and for ever will have been always the only creator of your reality. Your thoughts, your beliefs, your emotions and your desires manifest constantly. If you subconsciously believe that you are the most unlovable person on this planet guess how this will manifest into the physical realm? As every person you meet ever breaking your heart and declaring you as unlovable. And the key to everything is realizing that only you can decide what happens in your life. You are the source. The author of the book and the director of the movie. The painter of the artwork and the chef in the kitchen. Nothing you have ever witnessed has never not happened THROUGH you. You just didn’t realize it.

„So how do I consciously manipulate my reality?“

That’s when you step in your actual power. Listen, you control things. Everything. Nothing happens without you ordering it to happen first. You decide what is real and what is not. That’s a fact.

Now when you imagine your crush Johnny to text you, and you declare that to be the truth, a stone-hard fact and a thing that 100% is real and has happened, that energy will reflect itself in your reality.

You manifest by deciding what is real.

You manifest by declaring your truth.

You manifest by choosing your fate and sticking to that choice.

„What if I decide for Johnny to text me and Johnny never texted me?“

Oh but he did text you. In your imagination remember? And we, the only creator of our realities, decided that that is real. So Johnny texted you. What you mean to say is:

„Why don‘t I see a text from Johnny in my physical reality?“

There it is. The ONE error everybody does when getting into manifestation: looking for validation from the physical realm.

„Well obviously I am looking for my manifestation in the 3D world, that‘s what I am manifesting it for Eves!“

That is the moment where I educate you about ✨states✨

When you desire something, like let’s say a new phone, you are doing one thing in particular: you are recognizing the lack of the new phone in your life. (The state of desire/ the state of lack) When you visualize yourself getting a new phone, and you decide that is real now, you inevitably enter the state of being wish-fulfilled, the state of having it. Your job is to stay as loyal as possible to that state. Because your state manifests.

If we visualize the new phone, declare that as real and true, enter the state of wish-fulfillment, then look for confirmation we already disproved our state of being wish-fulfilled because if why are you looking for proof of your truth if you knew it was true? You know for a fact that 2 + 2 equals 4. you are not spending every day proving or disproving that fact, are you?

By searching for confirmation you will re-enter the state of being in lack, because you are actively recognizing and accepting the lack of that desire by looking wether you already have it or not. If you truly declared the imagination as real, why would you search in the 3D for it?

The 3D reality will always conform to the 4D reality anyway so just accept that you have it the minute you visualize it/affirm it/ and so on. And that’s why searching for something in the 3D is pointless. If the imagination comes first, if that is the reality where everything happens, if that is the place where everything stems from, why are you searching in the goddamn reflection for validation? Your imagination is the top validation you could ask for because it is TRUE. IT IS REAL. Your physical copy of that will always always always only portray what you have created in your mind in the first place! Why are you looking for Johnny’s text message in the reality that is bound to copy your imagination anyways? Why aren’t you more concerned with what you are visualizing and thinking about all day because these things WILL show up regardless? And if Johnnys Text Message didn‘t manifest YET then why are you believing that reality WHEN IT ALL CAME FROM YOU ANYWAY. YOU CREATE EVERYTHING BRO. If you can’t see it yet that doesn’t mean it would have never appeared, that just means you entered the state of lack again because you have been searching at a place that always comes second anyway. Do not believe what you see, believe what you decide to be real. YOU DECIDE. YOU YOU YOU AND ONLY YOU.

„So the trick is to recognize imagination as real?“

Correct.

„What happens when I accidentally recognize the lack of something in the 3D? Is my manifestation then lost?“

Nope. As long as you stay loyal to your state, you are not losing anything. If you happen to think „god I manifested that stupid text from Johnny two hours ago where is it?“ and then correct yourself with for example something along the lines of „ahhh wait I remember! The DID text me! Two hours ago in my real reality! Silly me!“ and that’s it! No need to overthink it. You decide what is real, so if you don‘t dwell in the fact that your physical reality doesn‘t show the picture you want to see, and you keep on re-entering your state of wish-fulfilled, and make it your dominant state, nothing is lost. It is only lost if you decide that it is. If you accept the physical copy as the truth and not the place where it all stems from, the place where your manifestation is already done anyways, then you lose it. But only because you decided to lose it.

„Okay so Evie I want to manifest that Johnny and I get married but he is currently married to another woman and has eleven kids with her. Can I manifest my desire anyway?“

First of all: you can manifest everything

Second of all: because circumstances never matter!

„But what if I want to manifest to get into Harvard even if they already sent me their rejection letter?“

Even then.

If you are the only creator of your reality, then you have been the one responsible for these circumstances in the first place anyways. If you can put yourself into your circumstances, you can remove yourself out of them just as well.

It is not your job to figure out how your subconscious goes about eliminating your circumstances, your job is to concentrate on what you want to declare as real. And then declare it as real. And stay in your state of wish-fulfilled. The rest will happen by itself. Trust. Me.

„So how long do you think my manifestation will take to appear in my physical reality?“

Depends. What do you think how long these things should take? Because that’s what it will boil down to. If you believe that every single one of your manifestations arrives within 2 minutes, then that’s your reality bro, that‘s what’s true. If you believe that a manifestation will always take up to a month until it happens well then that’s your truth. The only limit there is your belief.

It also does not matter wether you are trying to manifest climate change to stop or a cup of coffee. There are no „big manifestations“ or „small manifestations“. Manifestation is manifestation. But you THINK that Johnny texting you is such a huge deal that you MAKE it to something harder to get so you spend more time dwelling in lack so it takes more time to appear. If I told you that manifesting a dandelion on the sidewalk is the same thing as manifesting fucking Obama to kiss you, you wouldn’t believe me because you take things like probability into account. Which is totally irrelevant. The question is not „how probable would this have been to happen to me if I didn’t manifest it?“ in order to figure out wether something will manifest faster or easier. The better question for this would be „how much do I want this to happen?“. Because as soon as you decide something is real, it is. And then it copies into your physical world. Without a doubt. Which is exactly why you should never catch yourself get impatient or „wait“ on your desires to appear in the 3D. The trick is to know it will happen anyways. But everytime you check the 3D or wait for change to happen then you are re-entering state of desire/lack. That‘s when you are accepting that what the 3D is showing you, must be a fact, EVEN THOUGH YOU DECIDE WHAT IS REAL AND WHAT ISNT IN THE FIRST PLACE.

„so basically how do I manifest a scholarship for example?“

Okay let’s take a test run. I want to manifest a scholarship. So I pick my most favorite method of manifesting which is visualizing (for example). I lay down in my bed, close my eyes, take a few deep breaths and really set the scene as detailed as I can. I imagine myself opening my laptop, clicking on my E-Mail Icon and read through the E-Mail I received in which I got accepted into my dream scholarship. I freak out because I have been waiting for this moment for ever and I am so happy and I let myself feel every single emotion that is connected to my desire being fulfilled. I open my eyes and I am happy because I know that this moment just happened. I enter the state of wish-fulfilled and now I go about my day all proud and confident because I know that since I declared my acceptance into the scholarship as real, it happens anyway. I know it is real, which is why I don’t get all worried about it showing up in the 3D and I let go of all the worry and all the anxiety attached to the situation where I still desired that scholarship. Because I don‘t anymore. Because I have it. Because I decided that that is what is real, so now it is.

Two days have passed and I still have no E-Mail in my account and the old me pops up and thinks „where is that scholarship that we manifested“ I immediately recognize that some part of me seems to think we are lacking something. I correct my behavior and remind myself through re-imagining the scene of me getting accepted to the scholarship and reminding myself consciously „that’s right! I already have the acceptance to the scholarship! It‘s real, I remember!“ and let go of the negative feelings attached to the state of desire. I stay loyal to the state of wish-fulfilled and I do not seek validation from the outside, only from my imagination because I know, that only my imagination is real, only my imagination is to be trusted.

„This sounds like it takes a lot of practice“

It does. Some people get used to this way of thinking easier than others. Some believe their 4D sooner than others do. Some might never accept the 4D as real and never consciously manifest anything ever because they are too set on viewing the 3D as factual and set-in-stone. Others accept the Imagination as truth immediately and have 100k dollars in their bank by tomorrow because they adapted to this manifestation-type-of-thinking faster than you did maybe.

But that is normal. Forreal. Some take years perfecting this skill, and others try it once and then leave it.

But to be fair: if you are manifesting literally everything in your life anyways, wouldn‘t you rather be able to control it at least? Even if it takes you several days-weeks-months-years to finally get it right? Doesn‘t that make so much more sense?

This post was inspired by a lot of asks and dms people have been sending me, and I genuinely hope I was able to help❤️

Thank you guys so much for trusting me and supporting my blog❣️

It truly means the world to me, knowing people are listening to my advice and seeing results from that❣️

I am yours in every reality,

Evie <3

#law of assumption #reality shifting #shifting realities #loa #law of attraction #manifestation #shifting #law of manifestation #shifting community #current reality #4d #3d #desired reality #spiritualjourney #spirituality #effortless manifestation #manifestation technique #manifestation story #manifesting #Manifest #manifest fast

[whatawonderfulexistence--blog]

Strawberries (Terzo x Fem! Reader SMUT)

Credit to @conjuring-ghouls for the gif!

WARNINGS: Minors Do Not Interact, MDNI, 18+, Explicit Content, Sexual Content, Minors DNI, food play, pussy eating, overstimulation

Dearest Shoe, @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe thank you so much for requesting this, it was so much fun to write and definitely something outside of my comfort zone. Love you bb ❤️❤️

My Masterlist! ~ A03 Link!

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

You couldn't stop the smirk from passing over your lips as you caught the sight of him. "You know, Primo's going to be awfully upset if he finds out you were messing around in his greenhouse Papa." You watch his shoulder shake slightly as he chuckles. His gaze lands on you, the two of you sharing a small smile.

"Surely he won't mind me stealing a few strawberries. Especially if I'm gathering them to share with one of his beloved Siblings, eh Sorella?" You knew that devious glint in his eye all too well. Terzo Emeritus was not anything if not a flirt. He knew exactly what to say and how to act in order to leave you a flustered and blushing mess, not that you were complaining. He held one of the ripe berries between his fingers, studying it as he slowly made his way over to you. "The first strawberries of the season are always my favorite. Deliciously tart," his eyes leave the fruit and train themselves on you, taking in the image of your curves under your work clothes. "Yet still so sweet." He stood in front of you, his intense gaze gluing you to your spot. "It's probably one of the greatest tastes I've ever experienced… so far anyways." He smirks at you. You pressed your thighs together to try and stifle the growing arousal between your legs. Despite the fact you had been a target of Terzo's charm for years, he never failed to get you all worked up. He held out the strawberry to you, watching intently as your lips wrapped around the tip of it, gently brushing over his fingers as you took a small bite. Your eyes never left his, beautifully mismatched hazy green with the other being so white it almost glowed. Terzo Emeritus was definitely a sight to behold.

"It's delicious Papa." You giggle, covering your mouth with your hand. He takes your chin between his fingers. Your breath hitches in your throat, his lips barely out of reach.

"Can I have a taste, Sorella?"  He smirks, your cheeks immediately heating up at his question.

"Terzo!" You startled away from him as Primo's voice booms through the greenhouse. "I've told you before, not in my greenhouse, you'll crush the plants!" Terzo chuckles, taking a step back from you.

"Relax, fratello, I was just giving (Y/N) some fruit." The youngest Emeritus brother shoots you a wink and a flirtatious smirk. Your eyes trailed after him as he made his exit, taking the rest of the plump flesh of the strawberry between his teeth. The thought flashed through your mind of how good it would feel for him to bite into your thighs like that. You quickly shook the idea from your head as Primo approached you.

"Il mia bambina, I hate to trouble you, but would you mind harvesting some fruits and bringing them to Terzo's office? I would like to keep that menace out of my garden at all costs." He says with an exasperated sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Yes Papa, I'll take care of it." You agree with a smile. He pats you on the shoulder as he walks past you.

"Thank you Sorella. If you'll excuse me, I have a meeting with one Miss Mary Jane." He pardons himself with a chuckle. You made quick work of picking fruits, the thought of your earlier interaction with Terzo playing repeatedly in your mind, making you incredibly giddy. You grabbed some dark, sweet cherries, ripe peaches, tart plums, and of course more strawberries, carefully arranging them in your basket. You stopped by the kitchen, slipping some chocolate from Secondo's secret stash in with your other treats as you passed through.

"Papa?" You knock tenitavely on his door, pushing it open when you hear him give you permission to enter. He sat at his desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose as he filled out some paperwork. "Primo wanted me to bring you some fruits." You held up the basket before setting it on his desk. He chuckles, examining the gift before him.

"And the chocolate?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"Just a little something special for my Papa." You blush slightly, your eyes drifting down to your feet.

"Thank you cara mia, this is wonderful. How can I ever repay you?" His question slightly muttles with the rustling of the candy's foil. You glanced up at him to find his eyes already studying you. The tension in the air was thick. Gone was the usual playfully flirty demeanor that often dominated your and Terzo's conversations. You stood before him now when there wasn't a single chance you would get disturbed. He knew he had you all to himself and he was planning on taking full advantage of that.

"There's no need to repay me Papa." You respond softly. He snaps off a small piece of chocolate, holding it out to you. You carefully take it between your lips, he watches your reaction to the slightly bitter chocolate intently.

"Oh, but I want to, Sorella." He neatly folds up his glasses, tucking them away in his desk before he stands. His slow, heavy footsteps echoing in your ears as he walks around his desk. He sat on the edge of the dark wood, picking up a peach out of the basket, tossing it in the air and catching it in his palm a few times. "You went through all this hard work just to bring me something I wanted… surely there's something you want as well." You eyed the fruit in his hand, wanting to relive the sensation you had experienced earlier. Terzo follows your gaze, holding the peach out for you to bite. Forbidden fruit hanging just out of reach. You hesitantly lean forward, sinking your teeth into the soft flesh. You felt some of the juice dripping down your lip. In one swift movement Terzo was standing, his tongue lapping up the droplet of juice before his lips crashed into yours. The peach tumbled from his hand and to the floor with a loud thud. His arms wrapped around you, pulling your body flush against his own. He sucked your lip between his teeth, a delighted hum escaping you as your eyes fluttered shut. He lifted you from the floor, effortlessly setting you on the edge of his desk. Your kiss broke momentarily as you both hurried to get undressed. "I can't even begin to tell you how long I've wanted you cara mia." He admits breathlessly. You tangled your fingers in his dark hair, giving it a firm tug that elicited a sinful groan from him, his fingers kneading into your hips.

"Then have me Papa… I'm all yours." His lips were back on yours in an instant, needy hands pulling at your shirt until it was removed from your body. Terzo kissed and nipped at the exposed skin of your chest. Terzo's eyes drifted to the fruit basket you had brought, a smirk crossing his features as he breathes out a chuckle.

"I think I know a pretty good use for your gift." You raised a curious eyebrow at him, watching to see what he would do next. He grabbed one of the various plums in the basket, leaning over your exposed chest and biting into it. The dark red juice dripped down his fingers and off his wrist before splattering across your skin. Your fingers slid into his raven locks as he dipped his head, licking the droplets up from the valley of your breasts. His eyes never leaving yours for a moment. You placed a finger under his chin, gently guiding him upwards until you found his lips, the tart juice of the plum mixing with Terzo's naturally sweet taste. He rests his forehead against yours after he pulls away. "The freshest fruit in the garden should be shared with the prettiest flower, sí?" You couldn't help but blush under his gaze, nodding in agreement. He offered you a bite of the plum before discarding it alongside the peach, his head dipping into the crook of your neck. His warm breath fanned over your skin as he trailed kisses down your exposed body. You mewled under his touch, back instinctively arching off the desk as he sucked dark marks onto your thighs. He paused, fingers playing at the band of your panties. "Will you allow me to taste you, Sorella?" 

"Please, Papa." You whine, your legs already beginning to tremble despite him not even touching you yet. Terzo lets out a deep chuckle, removing the main clothing keeping him separated from your soaked core at an agonizingly slow pace. Your breath caught in your throat as he licked a long stripe over your clit, the gasp he elicited fizzling out before it even had a chance to leave your lungs. He wasted no time, his tongue dipping inside your entrance allowing him to lap up the juices of your arousal. You pressed a hand firmly to the back of his head, grinding your hips into his face. His nose brushed over your clit as his tongue continued to work inside of you, a series of sinful moans falling from your lips as the growing knot in your stomach.

"So sweet, Cara Mia." Terzo groans before latching his lips around your clit, tongue expertly teasing the sensitive bundle of nerves. The arm you were using to support yourself gave out underneath you, causing you to collapse back against the desk. Terzo wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you in place as he effortlessly pulled an orgasm from you. Your legs trying to force themselves closed, Terzo resisted you with a chuckle, the vibrations sending a jolt through your already sensitive body. You cried out his name, trying to push his face away, a task that only resulted in streaks of grey across your palms from his paints. "Forgive me for being selfish dolce, but you are the best thing I've ever tasted." He smirks as you squirm in his grasp. "Even better than those strawberries."

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

Tag List: @moss-the-moth @mustluvecho @kissingghouls @angellayercake @copiousloverofcopia @rabidghoul

#the band ghost #ghost band #ghost #ghost bc #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #fan fiction #papa emeritus x reader #papa emeritus iii #papa 3 #papa emeritus #papa emeritus 3 #papa emeritus iii x reader #papa emeritus lll #papa terzo #terzo x reader #terzo emeritus #terzo #ghost terzo #terzo x reader smut #terzo x female reader #papa terzo x reader #terzo emeritus x reader #papa emeritus fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x female reader #papa emeritus iii fanfiction #papa emeritus iii x reader smut #fan fic writing #ghost fanfic #fanfic

[dead-dove-yandere]

I have an idea of a housewife who has young children and was married until her husband cheated on her. The reader becomes her neighbor who is very kind and helpful, helping her carry garbage, repairing pipes, etc. and the woman starts to hold him dear and starts to think he is his wife and becomes delirious when her dear comes home for dinner after an invitation to thank you for repairing your daughter's bed

OC Intro: Marie

Housewife Yandere

Female ♡ 35 ♡ Human ♡ Housewife

TW: Stalking, obsession, implied murder, implied cannibalism

♡ - It wasn’t too hard to find the cracks in her façade, if you looked, but Marie still held it up regardless, and to that end, she’d even move across the country.

♡ - She told her husband and children that this would be a fresh start for them, and that it would be healthy to live closer to the countryside, with fresher air and friendlier neighbours. The real reason, of course, was so her husband would have a harder time contacting his mistress, and maybe they could finally fix their failing marriage.

♡ - Getting settled was difficult - the kids were running around, demanding to be fed or to have their toys back constantly, she had a million boxes to unpack, she had interior decorating to take care of, all while her husband sat back and played on his phone. She was harried right to the bone, with no respite.

♡ - Until you knocked on the door.

♡ - She answered to see you standing there, a placid smile on your face, holding up a large pot of stew. The relief on Marie’s face was obvious and instant.

♡ - “I’m your neighbour now - on the left, over there,” you said after introducing yourself. “I brought you some stew to welcome you. First night of moving is always hectic, isn’t it?”

♡ - She thanked you profusely, graciously accepting the pot with a smile, grateful that at least she didn’t have to cook dinner as well as the millions of other tasks she had to do.

♡ - The stew was delicious as she served it that night - but she noticed something. Her husband never praised it despite how sumptuous it was. Then, she realised he wouldn’t know that she hadn’t made it. She thought back, slowly realising that she couldn’t recall when he’d last praised her cooking. As far as he knew, she’d made this, not you, and despite how delicious it was, he still couldn’t muster up anything nice to say.

♡ - It didn’t take long before her husband found another young mistress at his new job to be distracted by. Sitting alone, in the house, her husband at work and her kids in school, she couldn’t help but cry as she realised her marriage would never be set right - her husband simply resented her.

♡ - She couldn’t even divorce him - she had no money to go to college, nor did she have any work experience - she was trapped, reliant on that cheating bastard.

♡ - She tried to busy her day with chores, and dried her tears long enough to take out the rubbish, but she’d barely left her house when you dashed up the driveway towards her.

♡ - “Here, those look heavy,” you say, taking them and carrying them for her. She smiled and thanked you again for your help. As she watched you walk up the drive, carrying the rubbish bags, the cogs began to turn again. You were so much kinder than her husband, not to mention more attractive too.

♡ - She felt like a silly schoolgirl, having a crush on the hot young neighbour, and guilt did begin to eat at her. Yet, she figured, if her husband was going to have his way with whatever young mistress he managed to sucker in, why couldn’t she have a bit of fun too?

♡ - When the pipe under her kitchen sink began to leak, instead of reaching for the phonebook, she instead called you over, asking if perhaps you knew how to fix it - she lit up when you said you did.

♡ - As you laid on the floor, fixing the pipe, while she milled about, making you cups of tea or coffee and watching you work, appreciating every little aspect of your appearance.

♡ - It was only a few days later when she had you back to look at her oven. Then a faulty lightbulb. Then the lawnmower. Then the washing machine, garage door, creaky step, a set of flatpack bookshelves, the fridge, a blocked toilet, one of her children’s toys, and -

♡ - You were coming over nearly everyday - whenever you said anything about it, Marie would just laugh and say the house must have been a fixer upper. Yet, you could have sworn that half of these faults that she asked you to fix couldn’t have happened on their own.

♡ - Of course, it doesn’t take long for her husband to notice something is up. He confronts her one night, not even bothering to wait until the kids were in bed. Marie just sits there, calmly staring at her husband as he accuses her, yells at her, slut shames her. And then it hits her.

♡ - He is the man she married - her real spouse would never treat her like this. And as her eyes glaze over, she realises this imposter has been getting in the way of her relationship with her actual love, the person she did actually marry - you.

♡ - She puts the kids to bed after he’s finished yelling at her. Pours him a drink of whiskey and makes him a steak sandwich, placing the sharp steak knife on the edge of the plate. She brings it up to his home office, and closes the door.

♡ - The next morning, she tells her kids that daddy is going on a long business trip and won’t be back for a very, very long time. She sends them to school and begins to prepare dinner for that evening.

♡ - As it cooks low and slow, she asks you to help her fix up her daughter’s new bed frame. She’s grown so big now and Marie just can’t put it together by herself. As usual, you oblige, and drink plenty cups of tea as you smell the delectable scent of the stew she’s making.

♡ - After you mention how good it smells, she grins and asks you to stay for dinner. Her husband is out, she says, and she’s cooked far too much. You’re hesitant at first, but agree.

♡ - You sit with her at the table, meeting her two children for the first time. They seem pleasant enough, and the daughter is thrilled with her new bed. Marie dishes out the stew and you take a bite. It’s wonderful, but you can’t quite tell what sort of meat she used. It tastes like veal, but she claims it’s pork.

♡ - Marie smiles warmly at her two children and you ask she eats. Finally, the move has paid off. Her marriage is saved.

Dividers Credit: See Pinned Post

#yancore #yandere #yandere blog #yandere fic #yandere imagines #yandere x darling #yandere drabble #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere girl #yan blog #yanblr #female yandere x darling #female yandere oc x reader #female yandere oc #female yandere #yandere female #Maria #Ask #Story #Meet Cute

[darthstitch]

Professor Mysterious and Professor Wet Cat

This is my take on that Dreamling post making the rounds about Hob and Dream being uni professors and that Hob is surprisingly NOT the prof who overshares and Dream is the one who inadvertently does.

Buckle up, kids, let's have some fun with this. Also, gentle reminder: NOBODY TELL NEIL. SHHHH!

This time around, Hob's using his proper name, Robert Gadling, because it's been a while since he's trotted that one out and he kinda likes the seeming rightness that the once upon a time near-illiterate medieval peasant that he'd been was now teaching at a rather prestigious university. However, he's not prone to sharing much about his personal life to his students. He's still warm and friendly, but he's cautious about letting Certain Things slip.

Hilariously, the things that do slip end up making him everyone's favorite university cryptid. Sometimes Hob slips into Middle English when he's stressed or emotional. Sometimes he might use odd old-fashioned sounding oaths like "God's wounds," "Holy Jesu," and "Mother Mary's teats" (this last one sends everyone into spasms of laughter).

The literature department ADORES him because they can always drag Professor Gadling off to read Chaucer in its original form or even medieval French, his pronunciation perfect and dead on. Shakespeare is the only thing he'll flat out refuse to read because in any universe this Fuzzy Blue Alien's gonna write, his hatred of the Bard is the stuff of legend.

The students universally agree that Professor G is basically British Indiana Jones, because he's also known to have lethal expertise in medieval weapons. There's been more than a few fantasies inspired during the booked-solid outdoor demonstrations where he works in tandem with the other medieval history professors to show everyone how medieval weapons worked. Apparently, his favorite weapons are the longbow, the bastard sword and daggers.

Obviously, this all leads to Professor Gadling being the campus crush and his relationship status is a matter of hot speculation even if he's made it perfectly clear he was not about to violate his ethical standards or position as a teacher. It still doesn't stop the fevered fantasies of more than a few grad students, though. But that's all they're gonna get.

And then, there's the new literature teacher, Professor T. Murphy.

To everyone's disappointment, Professor Murphy is only going to be at the university for a limited series of lectures. Word of mouth spread fast, and his classes were now booked solid and he was going to be asked to return, once his apparently very busy schedule is cleared.

7. Of course, he's an instant campus crush, with the "Goth angel" looks, the Edward Cullen jokes are definitely flying and there's more than a few students melting after they heard him speak. "That Voice" is always referred to in capital letters and it's well deserved.

8. "Campus crush" turns to "Official Precious Blorbo" once the students all discover that behind the whole regal and imperious Goth Prince vibe that he gave off, was an adorkable darling wet cat who was just completely gone on "my beloved." If he's discussing a love sonnet or poem, there's definitely going to be a reference to "my beloved" or "my dearest" or "my love." It's never sickeningly cloying and the sweet tiny little smile that takes over his normally serious face is like sunshine. The kilig feels are real.

9. He's also forever worrying that he's not enough for "my dearest" as he's rather painfully aware "of my lack in human graces" - which everyone translates to "OMG HELP I HAVE THE SOCIAL SKILLS OF A SCRUNKLY WET CAT." He frets that he's somehow failing his beloved, who is infinitely sweet and thoughtful and caring and that Professor Murphy is the selfish one, really, who doesn't deserve the man.

10. The students, of course, immediately ADOPT him. Tesco ice cream runs are done, YouTube videos on cooking and invites to kitchens are extended so Professor Murphy could practice making something that is "not a catastrophic culinary disaster unfit for human consumption." There was a session on the language of flowers, which everyone had enjoyed. For a while, flowers with significant meanings were presented to sweethearts and lovers all over the uni. There's an unforgettable after-class meeting in which the craft-inclined students teach Professor Murphy how to knit and crochet and he was really rather proud of the scarf he had created.

11. Professor Murphy's raven had been rather entertained playing with the yarn scraps. The students learn that the raven's name is Matthew.

12. And then, dashing, mysterious Professor Gadling finally peeks into Professor Murphy's class.

"The things I do for you, myne owne hertis rote. Bloody Shaxberd."

"But you do read him so very well, my love." And there it was, that tiny, soft, sweet smile, now aimed in Professor Gadling's direction.

Professor Gadling sighs and puts a hand over his chest. There's a very familiar scarf draped over his neck. "God's wounds, dove, warn your poor, long-suffering husband before you do these things."

"What 'things,' dearest?"

Professor Gadling waves his arms helplessly. The scarf slips a little, offering a tantalizing view of a purplish mark on his throat. "That thing!" He looks appealingly at the students, who are now all stifling their delighted giggles. "Look at him! My heart can only take so much!"

And that was how everyone found out that Professors Gadling and Murphy were actually happily married.

Incidentally, the Shakespeare reading, in which both professors took part, was a true kilig apocalypse. Instant campus legend.

#dreamling #the sandman #dream of the endless #hob gadling #dream x hob #professor dream #professor gadling #i crack what i want #history and literature class cryptids #pffthahahaha #shhh nobody tell neil

[stvolanis]

All Dolled Up

PT. 2

PT. 1

PT. 3????

PAIRINGS: Dads best friend! Perv! Elvis Presley x innocent OC

WARNINGS: age gap (OC is 18 and Elvis is in his early 40s), SHES A CRYBABY, inaccurate time line probably, Oc is innocent, foul language, she lowkey intrudes on her brother doin the nasty, her brothers mean

NSFW WARNINGS: Elvis is a soft dom, Elvis is still a perv, corruption kink, OC humps her stuffed animal and E.P watches, Elvis teachs her how to give oral, fingering, hair pulling, praising, needy Elvis

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

The following morning was cold, and Kim had a blanket wrapped tightly around her small frame as she awoke. As she got up to get dressed, she glanced over at the dirty pile of clothes she had wore yesterday. She had set them at the edge of her bed to remind herself to wash them the next day, but she noticed something peculiar.

Her favorite panties were missing.

With a huff, she threw on a tight black long sleeved shirt paired with some comfortable jeans. Then, her search for her missing panties began. Kim dug through her dirty hamper in her closet, she looked under her bed, she even looked through her draws to see if maybe she might’ve accidentally put them there in her haze of sleep. But she was left with no leads.

She pondered what could’ve happen to them for a moment, but was soon snapped out of her thoughts at the knocking on her door. “Yes?” Kim said as she was met with deep brown eyes and chiseled features. “Ya father wants you to make breakfast.” Elvis replied in his deep, manly voice.

Kim gulped as she felt the same familiar butterflies begin to swarm in her stomach again. she shouldn’t be feeling this way, she never has before, so why now? Is this the way Robert feels when he sees Mary Lou, his crush, at school? Is that what Elvis is? A silly, school girl crush that’ll pass when he leaves? Kim didn’t know what it was, but she knew she thrived in the feelings he brought upon her with just a glance or a mention of her.

“Alright, I’ll be there in a minute.” Kim replied softly as she stared down at nothing, to fearful to meet Elvis’ eyes. Elvis felt himself having the same problem—how could he look her in her soft doe eyes after cumming in her cotton panties previously the night before? How could he without feeling any ounce of shame?

As Elvis sat down on the couch, he couldn’t help the way he thought about her again. Her long silky hair was down, and now he could see that it was down to her lower back. As Elvis watched her make her way around the kitchen, he took in the way her hips swayed with every movements. He watched as she’d mutter things to herself he could only make out as measurements for the pancake batter. But he knew he was done for when be watched her bend over to open up the oven to slide some homemade biscuits in.

She was so perfect, ideally, every honest man’s dream woman. She was smart, kind, hardworking and beautiful beyond belief. It struck Elvis in awe how she couldn’t realize the effects she had on him, and probably any other boy or man she’s come across. She was so innocently tempting, the older man wanted nothing more than to teach her everything she didn’t know. Everything she shouldn’t know. He wanted to see her face flushed and needy for him, but it was wrong.

It was so wrong of him to think of bending her over the kitchen counter to have his way with her while she was making pancakes to feed him and her family.

his thoughts were down so deep he didn’t even notice that Mike, Kim’s father had seated himself next to him. “Ya alright there, Elvis?” Mike chuckled out. Elvis flinched out of his dazed state before playing it off with a smile. “Yup, just thinkin’ ‘bout how good this foods gon’ be.” He replied as his mouth watered, but for an entirely different reason.

“My Kimberly makes the best food, I’ll tell ya that.” Mine stated proudly with a smile as he glanced fondly to his daughter. Kim walked over and set down a plate in front of both men, and another on the other side of the table where her brother would sit. Kim giggled. “Oh hush, no I don’t.” She replied bashfully.

On the plate laid scrambled eggs, bacon, pancakes and an assortment of fresh fruits from Kim’s personal garden. “I grow my own fruit, Mr. Presley. Tell me if ya like it.” Kim said shyly with a smile. Elvis had to cover his growing boner with his arm. “Just Elvis is Fine, honey, and I’ll make sure I will.” He replied with a charming smile.

“T-the biscuits are almost done.” Kim said before rushing away from the peering man. She could feel his heated gaze on her body the whole time she was cooking, and it made her new white panties dampen with wetness she couldn’t quite decipher.

She could feel his lingering stare as she took the fresh biscuits out of the oven, and she could still feel it when she was rubbing some butter onto them. He took in every little thing about her, as if he’d forget if he looked away for even a moment. Like she’d disappear, never to be seen again. Elvis felt like a creep, but he couldn’t help himself when he was around her.

“Here y’all go.” Kim said sweetly with a smile as she set down a plate of biscuits at the center of the table. “Thank you.” Both men said as they began to dig into the food in front of them. “I’m gonna go get Marcus.” Kim said.

As she rounded the corridor and made her way to Marcus’ room, she lightly knocked. The door quickly swung open revealing a red in the face Marcus. “Oh my— are you alright?” Kim asked as she took in his state. “‘M alright, just out of shape, is all.” He replied with a huff.

Kim looked over his shoulder with a quirked brow. “Who’s that?” She asked as she took notice of another body laying in his bed. “Yknow how father feels about people comin ‘round here, Marcus.” Kim said with furrowed brows. “Listen, don’t say nothin’ to him, ya hear?” He said sternly.

Kim rolled her eyes. “I won’t, what we’re y’all doin’ anyhow?” She asked curiously. Marcus felt himself begin to grow uncomfortable under his sisters curious gaze. He wasn’t gonna be the one to burst her bubble. “We were just talkin’” he said. “What did ya need, Kimberly?” He rushed out.

“Oh! Yeah, I made breakfast if you’d like some.” She replied with a smile. “I can save a plate for your friend too, if ya want?” At that, Marcus sucked in a breath of air. “Yknow that’s nice n’ all, Kim, but my friend won’t be stayin long.” He replied with a tight lipped smile. Kim felt a frown creeping onto her features.

“Alright, well, your plates on the table whenever you’re ready.” She said before her older brother slammed the door rudely on her face. Kim furrowed her brows and stormed off with a huff back towards where her father and Elvis sat eating at the table.

Elvis was in the middle of biting into a biscuit as he watched round the corner with a sour expression. “What’s wrong?” He asked with a quirked brow. Kimberly huffed as she washed the dishes. “Nothin’, Mr.Presley—I mean, Elvis” She replied as she scrubbed the dishes harder.

She knew she was being invasive towards her brother, but she didn’t mean any harm by it. She was just curious, there was no need for him to be so rude and blunt about it. He could have told her nicely to leave him alone instead of slamming the door on her face like that.

“Don’t be rude, Kimberly.” Her father scolded as he sent his daughter a look that said ‘don’t embarrass me’. Kim sighed and quickly spun around, but Elvis was at her defense in the nick of time. “‘S alright, Mike.” He reassured with a small smile.

“Well I need to head out, work n’ all. Marcus will come with me. You alright stayin here, Elvis?” Kim’s father asked. Elvis felt his heart leap at the thought of being alone with Kimberly. “‘Course, I’ll hold down the fort for ya, bud.” Elvis said with a chuckle and a pat to Mikes back.

“Alright then, I’ll go grab Marcus.” Mike said as he got up, but Kimberly objected. “I think it’s best I go get him.” Kim said, not making eye contact with Mike or Elvis. Her father didn’t think much of it, but Elvis had observed her enough to know that she was surely hiding something. But Elvis wasn’t going to pry.

Kimberly knocked on her brothers door and she heard movements coming from behind it. “Jesus, Kimberly, what do ya’ want?!” He whisper-yelled. Kim felt her bottom lip tremble. “Father was gonna’ come n’ get you. Was jus’ tryna help ya out.” She mumbled as she stared down at her feet.

“Shit—alright thanks, Kim.” He said urgently as he slammed the door on her face once again before she could get a word out. Kim wiped the tears that threatened to fall from her doll-like eyes and regained her composure before waltzing back into the kitchen to finish her dishes.

“He’s comin’, father.” She said quietly, to which her father nodded.

Marcus rounded the corner a few moments later now dresses in boots, overalls and a white t-shirt fitted underneath. His face was no longer beat red and he was no longer out of breath with hair matted to his forehead. Kim wondered what he must’ve been doin’ that got him all worked up, but she wasn’t going to ask in fear of getting him angry at her again. She couldn’t bear her favorite person yelling at her again, as sensitive as she sounds.

As her father and older brother made their way out of the old house, she bid them goodbyes and sent them off with their sacked lunches that consisted of an assortment of meats her father hunted and some chips.

Kim was snapped out of her thoughts as she felt a warm body press behind her, and large arms cage her against the sink. His hands rested on the marble counter top and she could feel his private area pressed firmly against her bottom.

Kim felt her panties dampen as they had earlier and her perky nipples hardened underneath her shirt as she felt his hot breath skim her ear. “Need help?” Elvis asked. Kim could hear the smile he wore on his face without having to look at him. “E-Elvis, I don’t think this is appropriate.” She muttered meekly as he rubbed into her.

“That’s alright, baby.” He said as he pushed himself off of her with a chuckle. Kim felt like her legs were jelly and her mind was fuzzy as she released the dishes she was washing onto a small cloth to dry. “I think I’ll be headed to my room, Mr. Presley.” She said as her little legs scurried away from the large man.

She swung her door closed, but didn’t hear the satisfying ‘click’ she normally would. Too consumed in the aching feeling of her private area, Kim stripped to just her panties and bralette. She felt so, so hot. Like her body was on fire. She felt as though she could still feel him pressed against her from behind.

The throbbing in her lower area became nearly unbearable as she began to rut against her flower covered sheets, but it wasn’t enough. She didn’t know what else to do besides grab her largest teddy bear. “‘M sorry, Mr. Bean, but it hurts.” She whispered to the bear as she began to rock her hips back and forth on it, trying to relieve some friction.

Her panty covered clit glided along the fuzzy bear and her juices were surely left in a perfect streak. Small whimpers and moans left her mouth as she sped up her pace. She had no idea what she was doing, or why she was doing it, but she felt beyond nasty. Her clit ached as it was drug back and forth at a feverish, desperate pace. But still, it wasn’t enough. Kim felt her eyes water in frustration.

The small moans and whimpers didn’t go unnoticed by Elvis as he peered around the corner and made his way to her cracked door, and that’s when he saw her. Kimberly was riding her large brown bear as fast as her little body could go, and he watched as the small tears streamed down her face paired with small whimpers and broken moans.

Her body was covered in a thin layer of sweat and Elvis felt his already hard cock begin to throb in its confinement. He unzipped his trousers and let them drop to his ankles as he let his cock spring free, slapping his shirt covered chest.

As he watched her rut against her bear, he took his throbbing member in hand and began pumping it. He imagined that instead of the bear, it was him that she was riding. He wanted her to bounce up and down on his cock like a little bunny, her full tits bouncing along with her. Kimberlys moans fueled him to continue his pace, but abruptly stopped as he faintly heard her whimper out—

“Elvis” she said breathlessly.

The man acted without a second thought as he lifted his trousers back up and zipped them before pushing open the door, shutting it and locking it behind him. Kimberly was startled as she quickly got off of her bear and attempted to cover herself with her blanket. Elvis could cum in his pants at her state.

She was in a daze as she looked up at him through her wet lashes, glossy eyes glistening under the lighting from her tears. One of her bralette straps was down her arm and she was panting heavily. He could see her small hands trembling as they balled into the sheets she held tightly to her. She was so vulnerable.

“Naughty little thing, aren’t ya?” He said with a click of his tongue. Kim whimpered as her thighs rubbed together. “‘M sorry Elvis, but it jus’ hurts!” She whined out, fresh tears lining her eyes. Elvis cooed. “Awh poor baby, y’want me to make it better, huh?” He asked as he scooped her clothe-less frame up and sat on her bed.

Kimberly was sitting bridal style in his lap as she meekly nodded her head. “Spread you’re legs for me, little love.” Elvis said softly. Kim complied and widened her legs, and Elvis took that as his sign to rub over her panty covered clit with one of his digits. Kim panted out at the stimulation.

“Please” she whimpered, not knowing what she really wanted. All she knew was that she needed more. More of what? Who’s got a clue? not Kimberly. Elvis knew, though. Of course he did. The far older man pleasuring her had years worth of experience under his belt and he planned to finally put it all to extraordinary use with the nymph in his arms.

“‘S okay, baby, I gotcha. I know.” He said as he used another digit to stimulate her. Now his index and ring finger, which just so happened to be adorned with flashy rings, rubbed harshly at her clit in a fast pace. Kim moaned loudly as Elvis pressed down onto her sensitive button.

“Yeah, y’like that, honey?” He breathed out, his cock aching. “Yes, want more Elvis, please.” She whimpered out as she squirmed in his lap. “Since you asked nicely, baby.” He replied as he pushed her drenched panties to the side and teasingly dragged one of his fingers through her fold.

She was wet beyond belief. “What’s got you all worked up, darlin’?” He asked with a knowing chuckle. Kim grew embarrassed and her face reddened. “You, Elvis. Ya make my stomach feel funny when I’m around ya.” She replied. Elvis groaned.

He prodded his finger at her entrance for a moment before abruptly shoving it in. Kimberly bit down on her lip as he bullied another finger into her tight cunt. Kim felt her body instinctively rock into his fingers at a rhythmic pace. Moans erupted from her and she felt like her mind was melting as Elvis skillfully used his thumb to roll her clit around with pressure.

She felt her stomach tighten right when Elvis took it upon himself to remove his fingers. Kimberly whined out in response. “Don’t be selfish.” He said sternly. “‘M gon’ teach you how to suck a man’s cock, baby.” He said as he sat Kimberly down on the bed next to him.

He unzipped his trousers and let them pool around his ankles before slowly releasing his cock for Kimberly to see. The young girl gawked at his size. He was cut, thick and long. And as the curious girl grasped it softly in her hand, she learned it had a certain kind of heaviness to it too. There was veins on the sides of his shaft and his tip was fat and had a reddish-pink hue to it. His balls sat heavy underneath, unshaved and manly.

“Don’t be shy, honey. ‘S not gon’ hurtcha.” He said with a teasing smirk. Kimberly laid herself on her stomach next to Elvis, now coming face to face with his cock as he sat with his legs hanging off the bed. “So big. What’s it called again?” She asked with raised brows.

Elvis sucked in a breath as he felt her hand wander to his balls. “Gots lots of names. Penis, dick—but I prefer cock.” He replied. Kim hummed in wonder. “Put ya mouth on it, love.” He replied, impatient. Kimberly did as she was told.

His tip entered her mouth first as she lightly sucked it. The pre-cum tasted salty on her tongue, but in a delicious kind of way. “Fuckkk, good girl.” Elvis praised with a drawl. “Take a little more, I know ya can.” He said, trying not to buck his hips, not wanting to startle her.

Kimberly took more of his inches down her throat and Elvis bunched up her hair into a fist, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to lead her. As he helped her bob her head up and down, his free hand made quick work of traveling down her back and past the crease of her ass as his fingers once again found her soft pussy and began to fuck her with two of his fingers.

Kim let out a strangled moan around Elvis’ throbbing cock, and he groaned loudly at the vibrations. “Yeah? Just like that, baby. Doin’ so good f’me. Takin’ this cock n’ these fingers so fuckin’ good.” He moaned out as she gurgled and gagged on his cock.

“Suck my balls, Kimberly.” He said. Kim obediently ran her tongue down the vein of his cock down to his balls as she suckled one into her mouth. Elvis lead one of her hands to his shaft and Kim quickly got the memo as she began to pump him up and down at a fast pace. His scent was so consuming, and Elvis felt like he was on the verge of cumming as she looked up at him through hooded eyelids.

The older man pumped his fingers in and out of her virgin cunt at a fast and hard pace and her moans seemed to be growing louder. “Elvis, feel like m’ gon’ pee, stop—“ she begged as she tried to push his hand away from her pussy. “Shh, jus’ let it happen.” He panted out.

Kimberly whined and fumbled his cock back into her mouth. Elvis felt his stomach tighten. “M’ gonna cum, baby. Shit.” He huffed out as pounded his fingers at an inhumane pace into her swollen cunt. “Oh god!” Kimberly moaned out as she jerked Elvis’ cock at the same pace he was fingering her.

White painted Kim’s face as Elvis’ cock spurted cum, and she gasped in surprise as she felt her first orgasm take over her body. Kimberly had never felt anything like it before, and it made her whole body shake. Elvis didn’t stop finger fucking her, dragging out her orgasm till he was satisfied that she’d gotten out every last drop.

Elvis gently lifted her shaking form up before getting up himself to grab a tissue. He cleaned off Kim’s face gently before cleaning himself up. “‘M sleepy, Elvis.” She muttered as she rubbed her eyes. “I know, baby. Y’ did so good f’me. So proud of ya.” He praised as he helped her get into a large oversized t-shirt and a new pair of panties.

He discreetly pocketed her juice covered panties into his back pocket as he laid her down, handing her the same bear she was rubbing herself on. “Take a nap, honey. I’ll be here when ya wake up.” He replied as he gestured towards the door.

Kimberly tiredly nodded her head as she felt Elvis lay a soft kiss to her temple. She had no idea what they’d just done, if they’d do it again, or what it meant for the both of them. All she knew was that something about it felt wrong and good at the same time. She knew what they did shouldn’t have been done but she felt so good, and as she drifted to sleep, the image of Elvis clouded her mind.

˚ ꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ˚

LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE A PART OF MY TAG LIST PLEASE CAUSE LIKE IT COMPLETELY SLIPPED MY MIND TO MAKE ONE TILL @elvisalltheway101 ASKED TO BE A PART OF IT<3334

#70s elvis #elvis fans #elvis presley #elvis presley fandom #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fic #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis x reader #elvis x you #50s elvis #elvis aaron presley #elvis music #stvolanis #elvis x y/n

[ruben-the-cowboy]

RIP Van Der Linde gang 😔 you would’ve loved:

Abigail Marston - Marriage counseling, Stanley Cups, The Barbie Movie

Arthur Morgan - Slim Jim’s, Bass Pro Shops pyramid, Levi’s wooly Jean Jackets

Bill Williamson - Grindr, Shitty Gas Stations, “Don’t Tread On Me” flags

Charles Smith - Mitski, microwaved popcorn and movie nights, Bison as a protected species

Dutch Van Der Linde - Backseat Driving, Political Debate Podcasts, fruit flavored vapes

Hosea Matthews - Keurig Coffee Machines, chiropractors , Candy Crush

Jack Marston (depending on age) - Warrior Cats, Percy Jackson, Disney +

Javier Escuella - Electric Guitars, Cards Against Humanity, The Oscars/Grammys/Golden Globes

John Marston - 3 in one soap, Ford Truck Of the Month, band T-shirts

Josiah Trelawney - Magician Kits, Amazon, America’s Got Talent

Karen Jones - White Claws, Dolly Parton, Brittany Broski

Kieran Duffy - Star Stables Online, NASA space pictures, JellyCat Plushies

Lenny Summers - Kindle tablets, Soundproof headphones, Barnes and Noble

Leopold Strauss - Cashapp/Venmo, Facebook, Wikipedia

Mary-Beth Gaskill - thrift shopping, fanfiction websites, Taylor Swift’s Eras tour

Micah Bell - Ben Shapiro, Alpha Males, Playing Devil’s Advocate

Molly O’Shea - Steel Magnolias, Weighted Blankets, Themed Calendars

Rev, Orville Swanson - Bible study, AA meetings, Sacramental Wine

Sadie Adler - WLW music, Matching tattoos, Gym Membership

Sean MacGuire - Totino’s pizza rolls, Good Mythical Morning, Sugary Cereal (Lucky Charms /j)

Simon Pearson - Hell’s Kitchen, Panini press/waffle iron, Walmart Superstore

Susan Grimshaw -Life 360, Boxed Wine, Cats

Tilly Jackson - Mani-Pedis, Shea Butter Scrubs, Micellar Water

Uncle - Wheel Of Fortune, Recliners, Car seat heaters

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr2 fandom #van der linde gang

[st6rrrs]

YOUR BEST FRIENDS BROTHER - RAFE CAMERON X FEMALE READER

SUMMARY: for the longest you had an crush on rafe cameron aka Sarah's brother but you couldn't date your best friends brother and besides he didn't notice you anyway... well until one night

WARNINGS: 18+, age gap, smut, non con/dub con?, dark! rafe, swearing, choking, hair pulling, dom!rafe, virgin reader, lost of virginity, rough sex, fingering, unexperienced reader, lmk if i’m missing anything

A/N: rafe is 21 reader is 16 btww!!!

also this is short

Sarah had invited you over so you guys could hang out and watch movies. Sarah's dad, stepmom, and little sister had to go to the Bahamas for her dads work for the weekend. Sarah and rafe didn't have to go so they stayed.

rafe has never been nice to you like ever. he always calls you names like bitch, slut, virgin mary, whore, slut , etc. so you can say he isn't very fond of you.

"so what are we gonna watch?" Sarah ask "maybe comedy?"

"nah I like horror better"

"but im in an mood to laugh" Sarah explained

"okay then what about a horror comedy" you secretly loved horror comedies more than horror but you would never attempt that.

"oh yeaa" Sarah said as you laughed at her

"im gonna go get the snacks i'll be right back"

you said while hopping off her bed and exiting the room. as you walked down the stairs you heard something coming from rafe's room so being the nosy person you are you walk back up the stairs and slowly tip toe to his room door and you put your ear to the door.

you hear moaning and groaning you were scared you thought he was hurt so you quickly opened the door concerned and you see rafe laying down on his bed jerking off. he quickly pulls the covers over him

"what the fuck yn get out" rafe yells

You were shocked you quickly shut the door and ran down stairs, what the hell did you just witness. you tried to get the imagine of rafe's long cock out of your head. You opened the cabinet too look for the popcorn when you felt a strong hand grip your shoulder spinning you around.

"you know its not lady like to enter somebody's room without knocking"

it was rafe, he seemed overly calm... weird.

''i-i thought you w-were hurt."

he laughs slowly and looks you up and down. you take a deep breath to calm yourself down

"you might be a virgin but i know your not stupid princess"

he smirks

"wait..." "was my dick the first one you ever seen before"

he smirks once again, you were too embarrassed to answer that question so you looked down to the floor.

he grabbed your face really hard probably bruising it forcing you too look him in the eye.

"answer. the. question." rafe said "i don't like being ignored y/n."

he looked angry. you were scared to find out what would happen if u didn't answer his question so u did.

"y-yes" you stuttered

he chuckles and lets go oh your face which is most likely bruised now

"holy shit"

"rafe just fuck off okay jeez. every time you see me you don't have to remind me that im still a virgin."

you say as you turn around and grab the popcorn and putting it in the microwave. thats when feel something pocking your lower back.

"no ew rafe stop" you move away from him

"fine, fine"

he says putting his hands up in the air like he's surrendering and walking back up the stairs to his room.

you sigh of relief and grab the popcorn out of the microwave, pour it in a bowl and go back up stairs to Sarah's room.

"hey im back i got popcorn"

"finally you took forever" she laughs

"yea umm your brother wouldn't leave me only."

"just ignore him he's an ass to everyone" sarah says while shrugging

you guys ended up watching scary movie 2. after the movie yall soon fell asleep.

you woke up around midnight you looked over at Sarah she was sound a sleep so sneakily you got out of bed to get some water from the kitchen while you were walking down the stairs you felt a large hand wrap around your figure and put a hand over your mouth so you wouldn't scream.

it was rafe.

"stop moving"

he whispered in your ear but you still tried to wiggle your way out of his grip. he drags you to his room and throws you on the floor locking the door.

"oww what the fuck is wrong with you"

you say almost immediately getting up running over to rafe to try and unlock the door but before you can reach it he grabs you by your hair

"i told you to stop moving" "i don't like disobedience"

"oww rafe stop your hurting me"

he throws you onto the bed back first and pulls off your shorts and underwear and gets onto of you. you tried to scream but he puts his hand over your mouth.

he takes his time pulling your tank top and bra off. you tried to scream but it was muffled due to rafe's hand. Once your tank top and bra is off he started sucking your right nipple.

you didn't want this.

you tried to tell yourself over and over again but you knew it was a lie, what kind of best friend would you be hooking up with your best friends brother.

you moaned, you couldn't help it. but you still tried to wiggle out from under him.

he stopped to take his belt off, pants, and boxers then threw them on the floor using both of his hands so you finally had an chance to say something.

"rafe stop please" you begged "sarah would never forgive you, i would never forgive you."

"i don't give a shit yn, ill do whatever the fuck i want to you and you cant do anything about it"

"rafe please stop im a virgin remember" you pleaded

"oh i remember, i'll be gentle" he said the last part sarcastically

at this point you were straight up sobbing pleading him to stop but you knew it was too late when he felt the head of his cock at your entrance.

he pushed himself into you and he wasn't gentle at all he started thrusting into at a very fast speed.

it wasn't pleasant at all it hurt like hell, he was painfully stretching you out. it was very overwhelming

“God, your so tight.” Rafe grunts, slamming into you at a rate that will leave you sore for days.

i moaned and screamed tears coming out my eyes as he kept going faster and harder.

“Be good and take me.”

As he worked you closer and closer to the end, he squeezed your neck chocking you.

he never let up on his speed or brutality

You finished around him hard and heavy, your limbs becoming pathetically weak.

As you came down from your high His hands tightened around your neck harder as he fucked himself into you, harder and harder, until he was coming, too.

part 2 ?

#rafe cameron smut #rafe smut #rafe x reader #smut #non con

[erosmutt]

☆ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇꜱᴛ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ ⨾ 𝗛𝗮𝘆𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗖𝗵𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗻

𖦹 dddne: fauxcest ⋆ dad!hayden x daughter!reader

☆ happy belated Hayden day !

You skip down the stairs happily, backpack over your shoulder as you hurriedly make your way to the front doors. You took the train to school that morning, so you hadn’t seen him all day. Your absolute favorite person - your dad, Hayden. When you pushed the door open, you saw him there, waiting for you, cigarette between his fingers and phone up to his ear as he paced at the car.

With a bright smile, you run to him, catching him by surprise. He must’ve been very into the conversation if he didn’t hear the sound of your Mary Janes against the pavement. He looks down at you and gives a quick smile, then takes a pull from his cig. Is whoever’s on the phone really that important?

“Dad…” You begin, tugging gently on one of the lapels on his coat. He ignores you, making you scrunch your nose in irritation. “Dad,” You tug again, and he gives you a ‘wait a minute’ look. You let out a huff, and begin to pick the little fuzzies off his wool coat.

Once he finally hangs up, he can’t even speak before you’re chewing him out. “I haven’t seen you all day, and you’re ignoring me!” He sighs and gives you a half-smile. “I know, sweets. I was on the phone with your mom.” Oh. That’s why he looked so pissed.

“What did she want?” You ask curiously as Hayden takes your bag, setting it in the back. His cig was long discarded, crushed on the curb. “What does she ever want? She apparently called to wish me a Happy Birthday and we nearly ended up in a yelling match." He opens the passenger door for you, watching as you get in. Once in, he leans over you and puts your seatbelt on for you. You were 18, fully capable of doing it yourself, but he’d always done this since you were small. He’d always given you princess treatment.

You watch as he closes the door and walks around the front of the car to the driver’s side. As soon as he’s in the car, you begin again. “You know what today is, right?” You ask, kicking your feet with the allowed space. He clicks his belt in, and starts the car. “Mm, do I?” He smiles weakly, adjusting himself in his seat. You could tell the conversation he had with your mother - whatever was said in it - really had him discombobulated. He would always give you his full attention. Well, ¾ of it when he was driving.

“Yeah.” Your mood was beginning to dampen. You reach down and pick at a string on your navy blue skirt. “Your birthday.” He nods, giving a soft hum in response as he pulls off. “My birthday.” He sighs and relaxes in his seat, left hand on the wheel and the other resting on the console. “Don’t sound so bummed, honey. When people get older, they just don’t get as excited about their birthdays as you guys.” You lay your head against the window, looking out at the buildings that blur past. It was an overcast day anyway. Maybe it just wasn’t supposed to be a celebratory day.

Once you two were home, he went to the kitchen while you went up to your room. You had planned a whole thing - bought pretty underwear, planned on making a cake together with him. You hear him call to you from the bottom of the stairs. “How does takeout sound, kiddo?” He isn't using his nicknames for you. 'Sweets,' 'Princess,' 'Honey'… They always make you giggle and blush, no matter what. How can you get into the mood if he isn’t entertaining you?

You come out of your room clad in your white tights and bra, hands resting gently on the doorway. “Just get whatever, I don’t care.” You see his eyes flicker down to your chest, then back up to your face. “How about pizza? Chinese, maybe?” Once more, he glances at your chest, then back up to your face. You shrug once more. “Just whatever.” You repeat, making his face fall. “You have to work with me, sweets. You know how you get. I get something you don’t like, you make me drive you 40 minutes for something outlandish. Like kebabs.” You would have giggled if you weren't so bummed.

“Just get pepperoni.” As you retreat back into your room, Hayden comes up the stairs and follows after you. He looks around your room - at the posters on the wall, the fairy lights strung along your headboard, and the picture of you two on your vanity. He plops down on your plush bed, leaning back on his hands as he watches you shimmy out of your tights. “What’s wrong?”

You toss them, fabric flowing through the air and landing on the bed, just missing your dad’s thigh. “I don’t want to talk about it.” You dismiss him quickly, making him sigh exasperatedly. “If you don’t talk about it, I can’t figure out what’s wrong, and won’t be able to help you, sweets. So, come on.” He sits up and pats his lap. “Lay it on me.”

This was too good to be true.

Hesitantly, now in your bra and panties, you perch yourself on his thigh. He reaches down and puts your legs over his lap, other arm wrapping around your midsection. “Tell me all about it.” He was giving you that pretty, pretty smile. You mirror it. Everyone always told you - you smile just like your dad.

“I just thought you’d be more excited for your birthday, dad.” You murmur. The clock on the wall ticks, seconds going by before your dad gives your side a gentle squeeze; But he doesn’t speak. You continue, “I miss when I was little. You’d let me throw you birthday tea parties with all my plushies, and we’d have those nasty artificial store-bought cupcakes with the red frosting. Is red even still your favorite color?” He chuckles. “It is.”

A handful more seconds pass. You two just stare at each other. You swallow down your growing anxiety. “I want to do something more for you… But I can’t if you don’t let me, you know.” He pulls you up further onto his lap. “What did you have in mind, sweets?” He murmurs softly, hand coming to cup your face, thumb rubbing gently across your rosy cheek. You lean into his touch, biting at your bottom lip. “Can I show you?” When he nods, you slink off his lap, and point to the seat of your vanity. “Sit there, and close your eyes.” His brows furrow in confusion, but he obeys your command, going over to the small pink-cushioned bench.

He heard a shit ton of rustling and shuffling before hearing your bed gently creak in protest underneath your weight, followed by a gentle exhale. “You can open them now dad.” Boy, when he did, the sight that greeted him caught him off guard immensely.

You. In the nude, legs spread wide, a pink jelly dildo in your hand. “Honey,” You shake your head. “Hush. Just watch, okay?” He couldn’t refuse his little girl. He swallows and licks his lips, hands resting flat on his thighs. The tip of the dildo rubs up and down your slit, makes a little circle over your clit, then slides back down. He didn’t dare look away.

Never in his life would he admit he’d gotten himself off to the thought of his daughter like this - never before now, at least. Your lithe, youthful, supple body had enraptured him for who knows how long, but all he could do was listen through the wall during nights you pleasured yourself, falsely assuming your dad was sleeping.

“Hnn…” He hadn’t even noticed that the fake cock was a fourth of the way in your tiny virgin pussy. He’d kill to be in its place.

You couldn’t help but feel filled with cocky satisfaction at the sight of your father’s cock hardening along his thigh. It was a dream come true. Ever since you were just a girl, you’d had a crush on your dad. Whenever he’d pick you up and spin you around, your little feet would kick and a happy giggle would leave your lips, and he’d press a kiss to each of your pink cheeks, big hands on your waist and pretty eyes fixed on yours.

Hayden’s hand absentmindedly begins to palm his cock through his jeans. “Dad,” You drawl, the sound of your gentle plea accompanied by the lewd squelch of your pussy getting penetrated by the 8 inch dildo he had no idea you even owned until today. “You bought that for me? Just for me?” He asks, legs spreading as he fumbles with his button and zipper. You nod, toes curling and eyes closing shut. “Jus’ for you,” The poor man wasn’t strong enough for this! He’d been single for years, and jacking off wasn’t cutting it. Now one of his biggest fantasies was soon to come true - getting to fuck his pretty, barely legal daughter.

Once his cock is free from the stuffy confines of his jeans, he quickly finds the matching rhythm, and pumps his cock to the strokes of the jelly dildo going in and out of your cunt. “God,” He rasps, eyes half-lidded as he watches your face contort in pleasure. Eyes rolled back, lips parted. Perfection.

“Gonna cum,” You gasp, squirming about on the bed. “Gonna cum, dad.” He bucks his hips up into his hand, eyes trained on your glistening folds. “Keep going sweets,” His voice was strained, cheeks flushed. “Like that - shit, just like that.” You whine softly, back arching up off the bed as you throw your head back. “Wan’ you to cum in me,”

He wastes no time in getting up and making his way to you. He grabs your ankles and snatches you to the end of the bed, taking the dildo out and away from you, discarding it on the bed next to you. “Fuck,” He guides his cock into your entrance, knees nearly buckling at the sensation of your gummy walls enveloping him. It’d been so long since he’d been inside a woman.

“Inside you,” He repeats after you, leaning down to cup your face. “Inside you?” You nod eagerly, reaching up and tangling your hands in his curls. Both of your faces were flushed, sweat dampening your foreheads. “Nowhere else.” You whisper. Neither of you broke eye contact - refusing to. Unable to.

Hayden’s hips stutter as his eyes flutter closed. His seed spurted into you, the most he’s ever cum in months. “Ohhh…” he swallows, trying to catch his breath. You play in his curls, both of you basking in the afterglow of a dream come true.

“My little girl,” He murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your sweaty forehead. “Always giving the best gifts.” His voice is now a whisper as he gently rubs your red cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “This is the best one so far, I think.”

He stands straight and looks down, slowly pulling his softening penis out of you. A shaky exhale along with a shudder is his reaction at the sight of you pushing his warm load out of your hole. “Good girl,” He whispers as he runs his hands through his hair. “The best girl.” You smile brightly as you lay your head back. 

“Happy Birthday, daddy.”

#૮( ꩜ ㅅ ꩜)ა bnuuy loves hayden christensen #₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ bnuuy's drabbles! #₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ bnuuy's fics #₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ bnuuy's fics! #hayden christensen #hayden christensen imagine #hayden imagine #hayden christensen fanfic #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen x reader #hayden christensen fanfiction #hayden christensen x you #hayden christensen x y/n #hayden christensen x reader smut #hayden smut #hayden x you #hayden x reader #hayden x reader smut #hayden fanfic #hayden fanfiction #hayden christensen smut fic #hayden christensen smut fanfiction #hayden christensen smut fanfic #hayden christensen's birthday #my fic #fanfic #ficlet #fanfiction #fiction