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#:( he missed a home he'd never even actually been to
ashtavula · 2 days
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Hi, I've been reading a lot of your work lately and I absolutely love them!
If it's not a bother can I request Jamil, Azul, Vil and Riddle with their S/O being the children of the great seven? Like they got isakaid there instead of yuu (I'm going to ask for all the Overblot boys because personally I think Idia, malleus and Leona are somehow related to the great seven, either a direct Descendants or distant relative)
Anyways thank you so much if you decide to do this and it's alright if you don't I just really love your writing style and works on the Overblot boys!!
This is a really interesting idea, considering all of the boys really respect the great seven!
Jamil, Azul, Vil, and Riddle with a reader who is the child of the great seven
Jamil:
-Jamil is usually reluctant to show off how smart he really is, but he feels like he has to prove his intelligence when he's with you. You are, after all, the child of the Sorcerer of the Sands. He fully believes that you must be just as wise as your father, even if you actually aren't.
-Jamil never refers to you by title, since it just reminds him that he's a servant, and you are the child of a grand vizier. He knows that you don't care, but he'd rather avoid bringing it up. Instead, he calls you habibi when you're both alone, and he can be more affectionate.
-He refuses to hear anything about you possibly returning to your home. Jamil knows that your father wouldn't approve of you dating a servant, and he can't stand the thought of losing you forever. All he can do is hope that you'll stay, against all odds.
Azul:
-Azul practically begs you to share what you know about your mother. He's always admired the Sea Witch, and he wants to know all there is to know. He'll light up if you reveal some of her wisdom to him, or show him how some of her magic was done.
-I assume that you're also an octopus mer, and that puts Azul at ease because you're like him. The two of you will both curl up in his octopot, giggling as his tentacles tangle with yours. Azul sweetly calls you his precious pearl as holds you, though he'll blush if you give him a pet name too.
-Azul is terrified that you'll leave him one day, and he tries his hardest to make you want to stay with him. He'll spoil you, and he constantly strives to prove that he's worthy of your love. He loves you too much to be able to bear losing you.
Vil:
-Vil doesn't want to push you too much, but the Fairest Queen is well-renowned for her poisons. Surely, you've learned from her, and can teach him. He also asks a lot about her beauty routines. He'll be ecstatic if you share any of her secrets with him.
-Vil adores being able to call you his beautiful prince/princess, and he tends to flaunt your relationship. He preens if you compliment him in return, and gets ridiculously happy if you call him your perfect prince. He feels tempted to record you telling him that, just so he can play it whenever he wants.
-He acts like he's not worried about you potentially leaving, but deep down he's scared that it will happen. He'd do just about anything to get you to stay with him, even if it meant facing off against the Fairest Queen.
Riddle:
-He gets even more serious about following the rules of the Queen of Hearts after realizing that she's your mother. Surely, you're pleased that he remembers all of them, right? Riddle would be baffled if you told him it wasn't necessary, or if you went so far as to criticize your mother for making up so many ridiculous rules.
-Riddle still refers to you by your title, but it's become a term of endearment. He'll kiss your hand as you stroll through the rose maze, and will affectionately call you his prince/princess. He also gets flustered if you refer to him as your prince. Or even better, your king.
-He worries that you miss your mother and your old home, but he desperately hopes that you'll stay with him. If it came down to you going back to your original place, Riddle would choose to go with you. Nothing is more important to him than his love for you.
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kaeyapilled · 11 months
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i still feel abnormal about kaeyas adventure to sumeru as a child btw. he tells us about it in this lighthearted "haha look how silly i was as a kid ^^" way (because god forbid he allows one ounce of vulnerability in any situation ever) but tbh its just tremendously sad. to me
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steddiewithachance · 4 months
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I'm Here on Business
Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.
For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈
***
It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.
Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.
Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.
Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.
The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.
The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.
"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.
"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."
So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.
Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.
Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.
Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.
Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.
"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.
"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.
"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.
"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.
"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."
Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.
"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."
Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.
"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.
And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.
"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.
"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.
"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.
"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"
***
A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.
The text reads:
Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?
It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.
Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?
The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.
Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.
***
Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.
"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.
"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.
"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."
"Thank you! I owe you, boss."
***
When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.
Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.
And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?
Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.
His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.
The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.
The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.
"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.
"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.
Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.
"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.
"Your uncle?" Steve asks.
"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.
"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"
Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."
"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.
"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.
"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.
"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.
"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.
"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.
"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."
"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."
Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.
"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."
"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"
Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."
"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.
"I'm taking that as a compliment."
"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.
"Yeah, let's walk."
Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.
"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.
"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.
"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."
"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.
"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.
"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.
Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.
"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.
"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.
"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."
They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.
"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."
***
The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.
"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.
"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.
"What? Never?"
Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.
"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.
"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.
"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.
"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.
"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.
"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.
The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.
Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.
The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.
Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.
Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.
"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.
"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.
Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."
"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.
"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."
"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.
"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.
"Obviously I want you to."
***
The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.
"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.
"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.
"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.
"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.
Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.
"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.
"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."
"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."
When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.
"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.
He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.
Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."
"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.
As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.
"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.
Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."
"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.
What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.
"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.
***
"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.
"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."
"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.
And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.
"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.
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slutforleeminho · 4 months
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heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
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The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
taglist: @katsukis1wife @sungprotector @seung-mine @favieee @soephiphanymain @z4hir @minnieslover @kjr-army @caitlyn98s @bangchansbae @fawnpeaks @yumiblogs
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renoed · 11 months
Text
wound too tight | h. brown
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❥ — PAIRING hobie brown x gn! bassist! reader
❥ — SUMMARY you and your neighbour are the loudest people in your apartment building - drowning out the sound of each other's music with your own. You hadn't realised that your neighbour saw it less like a competition and more like a collaboration.
# A/N i keep seeing “drummer reader” this and “drummer reader” that so, as a fellow bassist, i’m giving us little guys some food
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Your neighbour did not like you.
Luckily for them, the feeling was mutual.
Whenever you had a spare second, you'd take the opportunity to grab your bass and unwind, pulling out a CD you had burnt with all the songs you could play. You had strong feelings about paying a subscription fee to listen to music without ads, so you opted for totally legal youtube to mp3 converters.
You had never really been a noisy neighbour, keeping your amp as quiet as possible and stopping as soon as you knew people would be going to bed. Generally, the people that knew you in the building were fond of you.
So when the old lady in the flat next to you moved out, needing to live with family for the support, and a young man your age turned up, guitar case slung over his shoulder, you were curious. Eager to be friends, even.
The first week was quiet. There was an occasional clatter on the wall that connected your flats, but other than that you could've forgotten your old neighbour had even left. You occasionally saw him entering his apartment as you left, or vice versa, and he'd spare you a momentary glance as you offered a smile. A little rude, in your opinion, but not uncommon.
After that first week, your curiosity had died down and you had been following your regular routine, sifting through your CDs. You had one with a specific set of songs and you couldn't find it anywhere. After an hour, you had turned your entire apartment upside down to no avail and frowned at your own mess. You'd clean it up later.
Not bothering with a CD, you plugged it into your amp and checked the tuning of your bass, instinctively playing the familiar bassline of Boys Don't Cry - it had become habit for it to be the first thing you played, having been the first song you learnt.
What you didn't expect was, hardly five minutes later, an incredibly loud guitar strum to echo throughout your flat, barely muffled by your neighbour's walls. You listened in (not really having a choice due to it's volume) and recognised that he was playing a song you knew; one of the ones you had on that missing CD. It was a favourite of yours.
Biting the inside of your cheek you listened to him finish the first verse, aware that you couldn't practice with him making so much noise. When he reached the chorus, however, you used your foot to bump up the volume of your amp and play along, hoping that he could hear you (and that he was smart enough to realise he had been disturbing your practice).
It carried on like that for at least an hour, both of you gradually increasing the volume in an attempt to overpower the other.
When you finished, you immediately felt guilty for being an annoyance to just about everyone else in the building. You'd apologise for the disturbance the next morning.
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That morning, you made a quick trip to your local cornershop, buying some baking ingredients so you could apologise with more than just a promise not to get carried away again.
None of your neighbours disliked you, easily accepting the apology and baked goods when you sputtered out an explanation for all the noise. A couple of them even invited you in for a cup of tea, which was always welcome.
"That boy," the middle aged woman across from you leaned closer, a devious glint in her eyes, "the one that just moved in, are you friends?"
"Uh, no," you tilted your head to the side, feeling like you were 17 again and being questioned by aunts about 'when will you bring someone home?', "we haven't even spoken, actually."
"Oh," you watched her deflated, "that's boring. I thought you two would've been fast friends."
It was difficult not to laugh at her lack of subtlety and you took it as a sign to leave before you had to dodge any more questions. Maybe in another universe she was a pestering aunt - you didn't think you'd hate that.
As you walked across the hall to your apartment, you noticed your neighbour was leaving, no guitar in sight.
You caught eyes momentarily before letting unlocking your door. As you made your way inside, you couldn't help feeling like there were still eyes on you.
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This became a frequent routine - you'd practice bass, only to get interrupted by your lovely, polite neighbour deciding he wanted to play guitar whenever you didn't want him to, and a war over who could play louder would ensue.
It would've been funny the first time, but it was causing you to lose enjoyment out of practicing and a significant portion of your paycheck was being spent on ingrediants that you didn't even get to enjoy the results of. You were certain that the patience of your other neighbours were running thin, too.
So, like any normal person would, you began waiting for the familiar click of your neighbour's door closing before you even thought about touching your bass. The door, for whatever reason, had always been a sound you could hear from your apartment - you'd mostly tuned it out but now it proved vital in letting you practice bass in peace. And it worked.
For all of two days.
The last thing you expected when walking past your neighbour on the stairs was for him to reach out and grab your arm, stopping you in your tracks. His fingers were calloused, undoubtedly from guitar, but soft on your skin.
The contact made you turn to face him and you both stood like that for, what felt like, minutes. Just looking at each other. You hadn't noticed all his piercings. You hadn't noticed that he was as attractive as he was irritating.
"You the bassist?"
His words took you by surprise. Obviously he knew it was you - you didn't live with anyone, so there couldn't be multiple suspects.
"Yeah, I am."
His face broke out into a smile, grip tightening so he could pull you into him, slinging an arm over your shoulders. He smelt of aftershave and what you could only think to describe as an old library.
Since he had moved in, a word hadn't been spoken between you - a smile hadn't been shared. Now he'd nestled you under his arm, after just one admission from you.
"Mate," he was buzzing, "you are the sickest bassist I think I've ever heard. Every time you play I gotta join in, you're jus' too good!"
All ill-will towards the man melted away at his words: he was just joining in. It was cute, almost.
"Thanks," you offered, "I hadn't realised that's what you were doing, to be honest."
He didn't respond, catching sight of the plastic corner-shop bag in your hands. Flour, eggs, sugar, chocolate chips. Today you were making chocolate-chip muffins, it was one of the bakery recipes left in your cook book that you hadn't tried yet.
"You baking?"
"For the neighbours-"
"For me?" his smile only brightened, unintentionally leaning closer to you, "What's the occa-"
"To apologise for someone's noise," you shot back, not missing a beat. The statement had paused him in his tracks, lips pursed together and arm dropping away from you. It felt like you were missing something as he pulled away. If you didnt know better, you would've thought he hadn't even spared a second thought to your neighbours, or the volume of his amp.
"Hadn't really thought about that, I guess."
He'd proven you wrong; you didn't know better.
With the lull in conversation at his statement, you took a step away from him, offering your sweetest smile as you outstretched your arm with the bag, "I think I'm overdue some help, don't you?"
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reblogs are hugely appreciated ♡ [part two, three | masterlist]
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anantaru · 5 months
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Hi Yoru.
Which boys do you think would be most gentle during sex?
including. neuvillette, ayato
cw. soft dom, we love strong men being sweet, fem! reader
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— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱
the iudex of fontaine neuvillette, who's each respectively admired and respected by the people of his nation.
indeed, he was a mysterious man in quite a lot of ways, and of course with this in mind— there came great responsibilities which the man made his priority to fulfill as good as he was able to.
until his dying breath.
to say that he was strong was a clear understatement, but even someone such as neuvillette can find himself rather fatigued at times, especially when he always tends to go well over his capabilities for the people around him.
it has not always been this way, however, whenever he found himself in an exhausted state of mind, he instantly comes rushing home to you, and neuvillette will not admit it, he simply cannot, but he had missed you so very much that it was burning a deep hole in his heart.
it's difficult to be vulnerable, and in the beginning he believed that being open and unshielded in front of you might make you view him in a different kind of light— because in his own very mind, neuvillette wanted, no, he needed to look powerful and almighty for your sake.
you are his everything, and he promised himself to never suffer from another loss in his life again, more so protect you to the fullest extent.
"ahh, it's okay," you utter in a sweet voice, instantly noticing how neuvillette's breathing hitched and his muscles relaxed, but you can more importantly feel the overeager acceleration of his hips grinding into your warm cunt, so eager it made you giggle,
"you're here now," your hands slowly cup his cheeks as he melts into your touch, a soft smile parting from his lips as neuvillette sighs in appreciation of you, "you're home now,"
now, heed yourself, because if you believe that you would be able to make neuvillette relax under this particular choice of words, you were clearly mistaken because with displaying it to him all exposed and while he pleasured you, infused with real desire, his heart burns through his strong chest as he let his lips trace the breadth of your cheek, lingering across your ear as his teeth sank into the nape of your neck, claiming you and deepening the approaching orgasm flooding through you from the very inside.
the greedy roll of his groin into your cunt was fast and ruthless, the repeated sounds of skin buzzing over skin slices across the shells of your ears as he begins to squeeze and knead the fat of your ass in his palms— to get a good hold on it, you know?
so neuvillette can twist and turn you against him as he pleases, fitting his hips in between your legs so perfectly that your walls shape a little too well around his throbbing length, his erection snugly tucked in as you pitch your hips up to receive his fast thrusts.
the way he handled you was interesting— both rough and soft that you're smiling from head to toe, the thought that neuvillette would never forget to be gentle with you despite the bundled up heat in his chest, he'd always fuck you right and nasty, his deep thrusts rattling through your skin that you think you'll bruise once he's done with you, your pitchy sobs uncontrolled at every draw his hips fucking you hard, plunging deep.
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— ꒰ AYATO ꒱
the dizzying intensity of ayato's thrusts, the focused face when he grinds himself a little deeper in you, and lastly, the complete authority he held given his position were the key factors on your current state— his hands tight around your wrists, his dripping cock in a possessive hold that burned away the worries churning his mind and downed it to a single spark of nothingness, replacing it with deep need to feel and taste you all around him.
you'd think with all of this considered, most people honestly wouldn't believe that your boyfriend was actually anything else other than frightening and mysterious in his own rights— yet they do not know him the way you did, because ayato decided to show you his real, unprotected self.
when he comes home to you after a rough day consisting of his responsibilities, it was the best thing ever, something he was looking forward to each day— being enveloped by your warm hold while he nuzzles his face in the nook of your neck was the most soothing piece in his life.
your intoxicating scent and how you tasted would absolutely relax him— one kiss and he melts under your trace, although do not get fooled because it would also turn him on, your delicate touches and candid little kisses going straight to his cock like a strong bold of lightning of some kind, setting his loins on fire.
and ayato believes he must be dreaming when you finally lead him to the bedroom, carefully discarding the clothes he wore and taking your sweet time with undressing him, placing each individual piece next to you— never forgetting to be content when he exhales shakily at the way you soothed yourself on him, then he flinches when your cool finger pads slide across his strong abs, never stopping to admire his beauty like you completely worshipped him, just as much as he worshipped you.
with that out of the way, ayato's new choice of voice was low and commanding, it was mind altering to the point where it made a slight shiver manifest and run down your spine as he fills your cunt with the speed of lust and love.
your pussy was dripping through his shaft pistoling in and out until he's pushing hard and fast into you— both lost in the restless friction as you listen to the crumbling whimpers concealed behind his restless groans. your room was engulfed by the scent of sex and pheromones as you arch your back into his touch, your eyes drifting close on a fresh surge of lust splitting your pussy in half, head rolling aside in easy surrender.
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©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify
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angelltheninth · 6 months
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Creepy Lovesick Genshin Men
Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Neuvillette, Wriothesley, Zhongli x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff but make it creepy, confessions, stalking, kidnapping, forced kissing, love bombing, cuddles, biting, marking, tail use, possessiveness
A/N: Let's make this creepy!
Kaeya kept an eye on you all night, watching as you were being ogled by various other people. He didn't like that one bit, he's been planning to confess to you for months but every time his job pulls him away. Well tonight he'll do the right thing. You didn't expect the great Captain to come to your rescue, but even less that he'd introduce himself as your boyfriend and try to kiss you. Why are you resisting, you gotta sell the act, it'll be fine, it's just one small kiss after all.
Diluc doesn't see what he does as stalking, just him making sure his favorite worker gets home safely. People can take advantage of a pretty woman like you, and he could never allow that to happen to you, he loves you too much. You think you see him sometimes, a flash of red on the roof, in the corner of your eye. But that's not your boss, it's just a coincidence that he always leaves after you. Right?
Itto is a very protective oni, one with the brawns needed to protect anything and anyone he cares about. Weather you like it or not he is your protector. He always happens to be at the right place at the right time, scaring away anyone who wants to hurt you and then saying he's hungry afterwards, he could use some good food. You could go with him, you could even make it a date. He promises to keep you to himself... eh, that is, the creeps away from you.
Childe will go to any length to make you his own, including getting rid of his perceived competition. By being the winner he thinks he's completely charmed you, proven himself to you, won your heart, when all he's proven is that he saw fighting as the only way out. Oh don't you worry, that's how he deals with those he doesn't like, but he loves you, he has much nicer things planned, many kisses in store for you, if you behave that it.
Dottore makes sure everyone knows that you belong to him. Not only does he make you dress only in the clothes he buys for you but it's all very short clothes where anyone who looks at you can see the evidence of the night before. Made by his hands, mouth and various other things he uses to mark your body. You should know, he only does this because he loves you, he loves you so much he would go crazy without you. You don't want that do you?
Pantalone keeps you close to him just so he can observe you. He's happy to look at you for most of the day, you're the most precious thing to him, so of course he would openly adore you and tell others of how great you are. You're so engrossed in his words that you barely notice his gloved hand taking hold of your wrist and making you stand by his side until you don't think you can stand anymore, so the only place to go is his lap.
Neuvillette tells you he loves you all too often. One would think there's no such thing but he says it with so much longing in his eyes, like he'll die of he doesn't say it. Don't even think of interrupting him, he'll hold you in place with his tail while he cuddles up to you after a long day of being apart. He missed you so much, this is his time to enjoy you, to make the rain outside finally stop pouring.
Wriothesley believes he's keeping you safe when he locks you up in his house. It's the only place where no one but him can reach you. What started as simple bodyguard work has developed into so much more. Neither of you thought it would come to this just from a few kisses but it did. He's grateful, he actually has someone to welcome him home now, someone to kiss, to cherish and truly call his.
Zhongli marks your whole body with bite marks, it's how he shows his love, not his possessiveness. He kisses each of these marks, treasures the sight of them on your skin, renews them every night, not even giving them a chance to heal, not wanting to risk someone looking at you thinking you no longer belong to him. The way his eyes glow when he looks over your body is nothing short of awestruck, his greatest treasure, wearing his marks.
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sim0nril3y · 18 days
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Deployment
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Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: The time has come. It's his first deployment since you've become a couple. The goodbyes are difficult. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), lots of angst, talking of leaving, talking of dying, canon-typical swearing.
One more night. One more night in his arms. What if he didn’t come back? What if he got hurt? What if he went missing? Honestly, you weren’t sure that you could cope with the never knowing what happened. Please, please, let there be some type of miracle that might happen so that Simon wouldn’t have to go. Things had been going so well, it simply wasn’t fair. If only he had any other job in the world. If only he was still a butcher, or something normal like that. Why now?
“Sleep.” Even with his eyes firmly closed Simon commanded you to rest. “You have work tomorrow.” Simon sounded tired, you supposed it was 2am, he had a right to be tired. “I don’t care.” You answered with a sad and quiet tone, eyes fixed on his sleeping frame in the pitch blackness that filled the room. “The morning is going to come whether you sleep or not.”
There was silence for a moment and Simon wondered if you had actually listened and then he heard it. Sniff. Then quiet. Sniff, sniff. Then even more silence before. Hck. Sniff. Sniff. His eyes pried open, adjusting momentarily before finding your face crumbling with emotion, lips firmly frowned and trembling, eyes filling fast with tears that were trickling down your face and soaking the pillow beneath you.
“Babe.” He whispered, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder, squeezing in a comforting way. “Don’t… Don’t bloody cry.” Simon whispered, his own voice a little thicker than usual. “Oi, c’mere.” Then pulling you across the sheets into his arms, holding you to firmly in his strong arms. “You dozy bloody moo…” He whispered, soothingly rubbing your back in small circles as you hiccupped and sobbed into his throat. “I know, I know.”
Honestly, he’d never had to deal with this before. Of course, he’d been around other colleagues and watched how hard it’s been for them to be away from their loved once. For him, it had been a very long time since he’d been in this place before and it was never like he had someone waiting for him to come home. It added an entirely different layer of fear, there was that fear of exposing you to danger but there was always a fear of leaving you. It felt like it hadn’t been that long since he’d learned to love you, allowed himself to let someone new into his life and now there was the possibility it could be all ripped away in an instant. Simon wanted more time, but that wasn’t something he was going to be afforded.
Still, even as your tears flowed Simon just held you, strong and tight in his arms, shushing you and caressing you so gently until your body just succumbed to exhaustion. It brought him pain to think of you being apart from him in mere hours now, sobbing yourself to sleep without his strong arms and his kind words. Fuck, it had never been this hard before.
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The following morning Simon was up bright and early to finish his checklist. It seemed that you were restless too and that early awakening lead to you following him around like a lost puppy, eyes watching the clock as if counting down the seconds. “Babe, I’m just going to put some fuel in the car. I’ll be back. I promise.” He’d assured when your eyes had filled with wayward tears as he nabbed his keys. “Sweetheart, can I take a piss in peace, please?” He’d begged as you chased him into the bathroom for the second time that morning.  “I’m just going to get a loaf of bread from the other freezer, stay here.” He'd commanded as he unlocked the back door. “Babe, if you wanted to join me in the shower all you had to do was ask…” Simon had purred before you two fell into the steamy shower.
Later that morning you were munching down some toast, eyes fixed firmly on Simon as he made himself a strong tea. It was difficult thinking that tomorrow morning you would be going through this routine on your own. The thought alone was enough for a lump to stick awkwardly in your throat. “Right…” Simon began then, causing you to push down any of those awful feelings and focus. “I’ve left a list of numbers over there…” Turning he held his mug in hand and nodded in the direction of a lonely notepad, it was full of names and phone numbers and occupations. “Reckon they’ll be able to fix any problems you might run into, alright? I’m not gonna be able to be in contact all the time, so I need to know that if there is a problem here, or with you, or with the car that it’ll be covered.”
“Right.” You agreed gently, taking another solemn bite of toast. “Against my better judgement…” Simon continued, stepping across to sit opposite you at the kitchen table. “I’ve added you to my car insurance, use it when you need it, please don’t write it off.” There was almost teasing to his tone. “My driving isn’t that bad…” You grumbled and this only earned a smirk as he took another sip of his tea. “I’ve got all the utilities set up. The mortgage is on direct debit. I’m even paying that kid down the road to come a mow the garden whilst I’m gone, he’s happy to be making a little extra money and it’s one less thing for you to worry about, which means one less thing for me to worry about.” Simon explained.
A frown found your lips. “I’m capable of looking after myself and the house, you know…” Simon lets out a soft sigh then and replies. “I know, babe. I…” He seems to pause, as if taking a moment to find the right words. “I like to know that I’ve covered every possibility at home so I won’t have to worry when I’m out there…” Simon said it like out there was a very distant place, very cold, isolated and very far from you. “Okay?” Silently he was asking you to just trust him and give him these final few hours to make sure everything was set up in a way that gave him comfort, the comfort of knowing that you were safe at home. “Okay.”
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The way that you watched the clock on the wall was like you were begging it for more time, making some kind of trade so that Simon wouldn’t need to go. Regardless of what you promised the time still came. There he stood loading his bags into the waiting cab, you stood a couple paces back wanting to give some space. “Let me drive you-” You attempted to persuade. “It’ll be too hard.” Simon answered with finality.
He closed the boot with a shunt and then turned to be looking at you. “It’ll be better to leave you here at home and then call you once I arrive on base. Okay?” It sounded like he was trying to convince himself too. “C’mon now…” He muttered, watching as finally the emotion broke over your face, all that strength crumbled and the tears began to trickle once again. “Oi…” Simon muttered, wrapping you into his warm strong arms. Those same arms you wouldn’t feel again for month. Your last embrace. “It’ll be easier like this. I promise. Easier for you. Easier for me.” Simon whispered, squeezing you so tight in his bulging arms. “I love you.”
It was something so rare and so emotional that you actually gasped, glancing up at him through your watery eyes. “Love you too.” Your words came out less controlled, spoken through a sob. “Love you.” You added, as if to make up for the initial emotional sentiment like Simon might have not been able to hear you over the lump in your throat. “Call me-” “I will.” There was a solid promise.
Then one final kiss. It was searing, his lips pressed against your own so hard that you thought he might bruise you. You never wanted this kiss to end. You didn’t want him to climb into the cab. You didn’t want his promises or his declarations of love and devotion. No, you just wanted him…
A second later Simon detangled you from his arms and climbed into the cab. He knew that one of you had to be strong in this moment and that you were never going to be the one to walk away, so he needed to. Even if it hurt more than being fucking shot Simon needed to step away. He had duty. He had honour. Someday maybe you’d understand, or maybe you never would, but he hoped that at least you’d find some type of normality without him around…
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Once he’d arrived on base Simon got back into a routine seamlessly, everyone thought of him as the emotionless and stoic ‘Ghost’. That was all that he wanted to be to these people. The less they knew about his life the better, that way he could shield you from anyone using you against him. He’d never forgive himself… however, there was one person that needed to know. Officially, he needed to speak to Price, if the worst should happen you’d need to know.
It was late. Far too late to be doing all this, but Simon knew that his Captain would still be up. Rapping his knuckles hard against his door a voice called out and in he stepped. John sat at his desk, pouring over paperwork on his desk and gifting Simon a very tired smile as he entered. “Captain.” He kept his voice firm and professional as he entered. “Lieutenant, what do you need?”
For a moment Simon stood quietly, mouth pursed as if he racked his brains for the right words. “My next of kin…” “It’s blank – like we discussed.” About to dismiss him when Simon spoke again. “I need it changed.” John seemed shocked by these words, the argument that they had over not having one and now to have him so quickly change his mind. “What do you need from me?”
John blinked, once then twice before collecting a form from his desk. “Just jot their details down…” Passing over a pen as he watched Simon began to diligently fill in the boxes. His hand-writing was just as he expected, messy and haphazard, but his mind only went to Simon’s homelife… John wondered, did he have someone special? Who was it? What were they like? How long had they known each other? What was the relationship? All these questions that John wanted to ask, but knowing Simon wouldn’t get a single answer. “If I die, tell her.” Yanked back to reality with one simple sentence. “Not some letter. No some top brass. You tell her, Captain.” Sliding the piece of paper back in his direction. “Don’t tell her how - she won’t cope with that.” John nodded. “For fuck sake, don’t show her a body if there is one. She’d never sleep again.”
“Need you to make sure she gets access to my pension. I want every fucking penny of it going to her.” Simon placed down the pen hard on the table. “My house. My car. The shirt off my dead fucking back. I want it all going to her. Okay?” There was desperation in his tone. This was a conversation they were meant to be having 6 weeks ago, with legal and suits around to sign it all off. Not the night before he was going to be put on a plane into a warzone. “Simon-” “John, please…” He didn’t need to see the rest of his face to know that Simon was in anguish, his eyes were enough. “I’ll see that it happens.”
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Masterlist | Ask | 10-04-2024
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ghostboneswrites2 · 2 months
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Virgin
Summary: Reader is a virgin. Daryl might as well be.
Alexandria // pre-Negan era ; established but unlabeled relationship
Super mild corruption kink vibes (if you squint) on both sides. Reader is a nervous wreck, Daryl is kinda clueless but charming, skilled, and smooth as ever.
This is long and I'm not sorry about it.
18+ MDNI || Warnings: slight age gap, oral (fem receiving), unprotected p-in-v, generally embarrassingly graphic and descriptive smut, drinking (not drunk sex), loss of virginity, profanity
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        Your hands shook as you filled two glasses with whiskey. Daryl would be over any minute. You had this date planned all week. Daryl was typically pretty busy with his bike or recruiting with Aaron, but he always made time for you when he could. Neither of you ever put a label to it -- boyfriend, girlfriend, partners, lovers -- it was all the same and those words never uttered from either of your lips. It just was what it was, and it made you both happy, whatever that meant. You did, however, often wonder what you really were to him. You liked to think he'd always choose you, but how could you know? You never would, not until it came down to an issue where you were a choice over something else. 
        You replayed your conversation with Rosita in your head all day, pacing nervously in your shared home with Rosita and Tara as you tried to rationalize how you would move forward with this newfound information.
        "So, spill! How is it with Daryl?" Rosita asked curiously, drawing out Daryl's name with a sultry, mocking tone.
        "Oh, things are good! He's coming over tonight, actually." You smiled softly to yourself.
        "No, dummy!" She giggled, slapping your arm playfully. "I mean in bed! Is he rough? Tender? Does he have any weird fetishes? Is he a boob guy or an ass guy? I peg him for an ass guy but I could be wrong."
        "Uh -- What?" You were stunned? In bed? You really never thought about that.
        "Come on, don't be greedy! Share the details!" Rosita practically begged.
        "Details.. Right. Well, there aren't any, really." You said slowly.
        "What?" She gasped. "Don't tell me he's the vanilla missionary type."
        "Vanilla what? No, I just mean we haven't really.."
        "You haven't had sex?!" She gawked at you. "(Y/N), stop right now."
        "Is that a bad thing?"
        "Men have needs, (Y/N). And so do we! It's the end of the world!" She shook your shoulders. "You gotta get your rocks off!"
        Rocks off? What did that even mean? You weren't really that much younger than him. You were twenty when the dead began to roam the earth. But, you were a virgin then, and you were still one now. You never liked anyone enough to get so vulnerable with them. You heard the rumors at school when girls would give it up 'too easily,' or when the guys at your jobs would be snickering about a girl they slept with. What her boobs were like, how she sounded, all the flaws they found with her body. You just thought it would be so foolish to put yourself out there like that, to be one of those girls they were talking about. How could you ever trust someone enough to see and feel every part of you after all of that?
        It wasn't that you didn't get turned on. You did, as much as anyone else. You  just took care of yourself. Plus, it wasn't like the apocalypse provided many opportunities for your first time.. Or did it? Had you been missing signals? Passing by your chances to get naked with someone? Did he even want that? How would you approach it?
        A knock at the door yanked you out of your thoughts. Oh god, was he there already? Was it time to get your rocks off?
        "Hey!" You grinned anxiously at Daryl as you swung the door open. He noticed your nerves right away. He raised an eyebrow.
        "Hey." He greeted. "Y'alright?"
        "Huh? Oh! Yeah." You waved him off. 
        "Well, uh, can I come in?" He asked. You realized you were standing there, blocking his entry, which you never did. You always threw the door open and walked away, allowing him to enter on his own accord and make himself comfortable. You internally facepalmed. 
        "Oh, duh." You chuckled as you stepped aside and shut the door behind him. "I poured us some drinks."
        "Cool." He nodded, stepping over to the table where two equally filled glasses stood waiting. He grabbed one and took a sip.
        You glanced him over. Clean clothes, no sweaty smell; he bathed for you. His eyes scanned you just as quick. He was a little surprised at your dress. It wasn't extravagant, just a floral sundress that fit you in all the right places,but you never wore dresses unless Rosita and Tara forced you for an event. You were more of a jeans and a tee kind of gal.
        "Pretty dress." He complimented.
        "Thanks." You blushed, smoothing your hands over it.
        "Rosita make ya wear that for me?" He wondered as he took another sip.
        "Oh! No. I just-- Uh.." You stuttered. God, why were you so nervous? He had to know something was up. You never struggled to talk to him. He was you dearest companion.
        "Just wanted to look pretty for me." He concluded with a smirk. Your face felt like it was melting right off the bone.
        You chuckled nervously and grabbed your own glass, taking a gulp, hoping to calm your nerves.
        "Sure you're alright?" He asked again.
        "Mm-hm!" You hummed with an eager nod. "I'm fine!"
        He shook his head and swirled the liquid around in his glass. 
        "You, uh.. Find us a movie for tonight?" 
        "A movie..? Oh! Right! Yes." You hurried over to the coffee table where a copy of School of Rock sat idly. "Do you like Jack Black?"
        "Mm-mm." He shrugged. "Think I've seen his stuff before."
        "Oh! He's funny. My brother used to watch all of his movies. Did you know he had a band?" You rambled.
        "Nah." He shook his head. "Didn't know."
        "It started with a T I think. I can't remember what they were called." You went on as you bent over to set the disc in the tray and get the movie ready. When you turned around you nearly dropped your glass. He was standing right behind you. "Oh.." You breathed. "You scared me."
        She studied your every feature, trying to figure you out. You were never a mystery to him. He liked that. You never seemed to be keeping anything from him, never had an ulterior motive. You were always a raw person. He never had to try and decipher you like he felt he had to with most girls he liked in the past.
        "Why you actin' weird?" He asked in a low husk.
        "Weird?" You squeaked. "I'm not--"
        "Ya are." He argued. "Real weird. And you never wear dresses."
        "I do wear dresses sometimes--"
        "Only when someone makes ya.You don't ever gotta dress up for me. Ya know that." 
        "W-- I know, I just.."
        "Then why?" He catechized you mercilessly. Your knees felt weak under the weight of this burden of nerves and unsureness.
        "I just..." You were at a loss. How could you play this off? You decided to try your best with whatever your brain could muster for an excuse. You straightened up and crossed your arms. "I just thought it'd be nice to look good for you, Daryl Dixon. Is that a problem?"
        He smirked a little, finding amusement in your sad excuse for confidence. He shook his head. "Nah, no problem at all."
        "Good. Now, excuse me so I can get out movie started."
----
        About a half hour into the movie and you were still imploding. Was it time to make the move? How could you do that when you couldn't even bare to look at him? Hell, you two had never even kissed. You just... Watched movies, sat close enough to be touching, snuck off on forest strolls, you know, normal things. Or was that not normal? Were you supposed to have initiated something more by now?
        He had been sneaking little glances at you the whole time, registering your faint expressions of worry. What was on your mind that had you so riled up? Had he done something? He doubted it. So what was it?
        His arm that was outstretched on the back of the couch behind you twitched a little. He moved to play with your hair but you stood up abruptly. "I gotta go to the bathroom. Be right back." 
        You sped off to the upstairs bathroom and looked in the mirror. Your internal battles were written all over your face. He had to know something was up. Actually, you knew he did, because he asked you what was wrong like three times before the movie began. Shit, what now?
        You took a breath and splashed some cold water over your face in efforts to ground yourself, patting it dry with a hand towel. Okay, (Y/N). It's time. Get over your fears and just make the move. As soon as you figure out what the move is, anyways.
        Maybe you could just kiss him and he'd initiate the rest. That's how it works in the movies sometimes, right? Right. Exactly. You got this. Just go down there, and kiss him. No questions asked.
        So, you marched down the stairs, strode to the couch, and froze, staring down at him with wide eyes as he sat there with a questioning gaze. Shit, what were you doing again?
        "Everything alright?" He finally broke the silence that was somehow louder than the audio from the movie.
        "What?" You asked, stunned, forgetting you had just stomped all the way down stairs and right over to him and then froze, blocking his view of the movie. "Oh, uh--"
        He stood up just then, piercing blue eyes beaming into you.
        "Y'gon' tell me what the hell's got your panties all in a wad or what?" He asked impatiently. "You're freakin' me out."
        "I am?" You mumbled. "I just.."
        Oh, screw it. You're backed into a corner, now. You only have one option. As quick as you could, you tippy-toed up and pecked him on the lips. You face turned red immediately. A small, amused smile crept up at the corners of his lips.
        "All that just to kiss me?" He chuckled. "Didn't have to dress up for that."
        "What? Uh -- Oh. Well, I.." You stumbled and tripped over your thoughts. It wasn't just to kiss him, and his reaction was not what you anticipated. Where was the movie moment? The fireworks and explosions? Wasn't he supposed to grab you by the cheeks and kiss you passionately and carry you to bed? What the hell?
        "Ya what? Were ya that nervous? Thought I'd bite or somethin'?" He joked.
        Bite? Is that a sex thing?
        It was all too much. You were in way over your head. You had no idea how this was supposed to work. You felt nauseous, your face was numb, and suddenly you felt it rising from your gut to your throat. Was it vomit? Yes, but not the material kind.
`        "Rosita said we should have sex!"You blurted, eyes wide like saucers as you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep anything else from escaping.
        Word vomit.
        Daryl was stunned completely. It took him a minute to process what you had said. He blinked.
        "Rosita said what?" He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "Don't listen to that. Don't gotta do that  just 'cause she said. We can do that when ya want to, not when someone tells ya."
        He turned around and took his empty glass back to the kitchen, shaking his head and trying not to laugh. It was admittedly adorable that the thought of going to bed with him would mess you up so bad all night. 
        You were still frozen solid with your hand over your mouth as he grabbed the bottle of whisky. You dropped your hand to your side and looked around for your glass. You picked it up off the coffee table and gulped down the last half of it. Just as he was starting to pour is second serving, you spoke up.
        "I do want to."
        He paused, peering up at you through his eyelashes without actually moving his head up to show you his face. He set the bottle down and thought for a moment.
        "Uh, sex -- I mean." You clarified. Again, he tried not to laugh. There was no need for clarification. His deductive reasoning was very much adequate to handle such a statement.
        He shook his head and poured his glass before he walked back over to you.
        "Do ya now?" He asked quietly, eyeing you intensely as he took a swig. You swallowed a lump in your throat. Why did you feel so dry all of a sudden? He seemed to read your mind as he offered you a sip from his glass, which you gladly took.
        "I do." You said unsteadily, failing to feign confidence.
        "Ya sure?"
        "Why wouldn't I be?" You raised a brow, crossing your arms. He took the glass out of your hand and set it on the coffee table.
        "Ya been drinkin'."
        "I'm not drunk."
        "But it wasn't your idea to begin with." He pointed out. "Le'me ask ya.. If Rosita never said nothin', would ya even be considerin' this right now?"
        You didn't respond. He had a point.
        "Exactly." He confirmed, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. "We don't gotta rush into nothin' like that."
        "I've thought about it." You blurted. Blurting was quickly becoming a habit of yours, you were learning. You gulped.
        "Have ya now?" He smirked. He knew that already. Of course you did, just like he had plenty of times. You were both adults with desires. He wasn't blind to that.
        "Uh-huh." You nodded slowly. "Every time I--"
        Your hand slapped over your mouth again. What were you doing? Were you really about to admit that you fantasized about him every time you touched yourself?
        "Every time ya what?" He raised his eyebrows tauntingly. "Played with yourself? That's okay." He shrugged. "Everybody does that and if they say they don't, they're lyin'. What're you supposed to think about? Ya supposed to count the cracks in the ceilin' or somethin?"
        While he enjoyed the way you squirmed under the pressure of this conversation, he still wanted to make light of it. He joked to make it easier for you.
        "Do you think about it?" You asked quietly. His face lit up a little. It was much more amusing when the spotlight was on you. 
        "I mean," he shrugged. "What else would I think about?"
        You blushed. He thinks about you when he touches himself too?
        "I dunno.." You shrugged sheepishly. "I just..." You realized how foolish and childlike you must have looked to him right there. You straightened up and held your head high. "Well, I want to."
        "I don't think ya mean that."
        "I do." You insisted.
        He looked you over. He definitely wasn't opposed to the idea, but he was nervous. He had no idea what kind of experience a pretty girl like you would have over his drunken one nighters and failed attempts at relationships in the past. You never told him you were a virgin. After all, it never came up.
        "Okay." He nodded. "Wha'd'ya wanna do, then?"
        You faltered. What?
        "What?"
        "Wha'd'ya wanna do?" He asked again. 
        "Uh..." You glanced around the room. What did he mean? How many ways were there to... What? "I wanna... have.. sex?" You said, more as a question than a definitive. 
        "Uh-huh. But there's lots o' ways to have sex." 
        He plopped back down on the couch, glancing at the movie credits rolling behind you. He had a feeling you'd back out when you realized that you were in over your head.
        "Um, I want to..." You waded through the marshy wetland of thoughts and memories inside your head, trying to recall every piece of erotic information you had ever known. What was it Rosita had said? "Vanilla missionary?"
        He stifled a laugh. "Oh yeah? That's all?"
        Well, shit, man. What the hell else did he want from you?"
        "And..." You trailed off. 
        "Y'ain't ready for all that yet." He spoke up for you.
        "I am too!" 
        "No, y'ain't." He shook his head, still clearly amused.
        "I am! I just.... I need you to teach me." You said.
        "Teach ya what?"
        "I'm... I'm a virgin." You said just above a whisper. Wow, that was embarrassing to say out loud. He nearly choked. He was not expecting that. At least it meant you wouldn't have high expectations that he couldn't meet or something.
        "Really?" 
        "Yeah." You nodded. "But, I'm an adult and I know what I want. So, show me." You demanded.
----
        After a long battle to get him there, you finally had him in  your room. Both of you just standing there awkwardly in the dim light of a small lamp beside your bed.
        "So." You began.
        "Mm." He hummed, stepping closer to you, running a finger over your shoulder to brush  the hair off of it.
        "Do you... Wanna kiss me?" You asked. A small smile just barely spread on his lips. Of course he did. He just hoped he could make it as tender and special as you deserved.
        He leaned in slowly and brushed his lips against yours, hovering there for a moment before he connected with them fully. Slow, sweet rhythm was what he aimed for. He wasn't sure how he was doing, but when he went to pull back and you followed him like a magnet, he figured he was doing okay.
        He kissed you a little longer, hands resting gently on your sides to keep you steady as you swooned for him. If he hadn't been so sure he had to be the lead in this whole scenario, he would have melted into a puddle. Your lips were so soft, and you were just so damn sweet. He loved how eager you were for him. He just couldn't imagine taking advantage of you, which was why he made you walk in a straight line before he brought you up to your room. Just in case you had more to drink than he thought.
        When he pulled away for real this time, you were desperate for more.
        "Why'd you stop?" You pouted under your breath. He let out a soft chuckle.
        "All in time, darlin'." He said as he guided you back to the bed. The back of your knees hit the mattress and you sat down.
        "Now what?" You asked. He considered your question.
        "Lay down." He instructed softly.  You did. 
        He crawled over you. Your heart began to pound. Was this it?
        He leaned down into your neck and started planting small kisses along the length of it. You gasped quietly. It tickled in the best way. Your hands naturally gravitated to his chest, resting them against him. He trailed his lips down to your collarbone as his finger slid the spaghetti strap of your dress down over your shoulder to keep it out of the way. His kisses lined over your collarbone and all over your chest, at least the upper half. You laid your hands on his shoulders.
        He hadn't even touched you anywhere significant but your panties were absolutely soaked. Your eyelids fluttered a little. Why did this feel so good already?
        He went to tug your dress down to expose your breasts but he paused. He looked up at you. "This okay?" He whispered as his finger hooked the dress. You nodded. He slid it down and took a moment to admire the sight beneath him. You were braless. Your nipples hardened with the cold air. Goosebumps peppered over your supple flesh.
        He leaned down and went back to kissing softly around the mounds of breast, one hand gripping gently as he wrapped his lips around your nipple and sucked. You gasped audibly at the sensation, reminding him that he was doing things right. Your hips twitched as the sensitive nerves shot tingles all the way down to your your pussy. Your walls twitched.
        He worked his way to the other nipple, earning the same reaction. He bravely nibbled ever so gently on the second one, pulling the tiniest whine right out of your throat. He smirked a little. So reactive, you were. He almost felt guilty, like he was taking some kind of innocence away from you. Something you could never get back, not that you'd want to.
        His hands slid up your outer thighs. He looked at you again for permission. You nodded. He slid the dress up over your hips and started kissing and nibbling your inner thighs. You twitched and exhaled at the more sensitive spots, and when he got as close as he could to your panties without actually touching them, he pulled back and looked up at you. You were flushed and eager, and it was killing him inside. He smirked again and placed a quick little kiss over your panties, right where he guessed your clit would be. You gasped and jerked at the sudden pressure. He hooked his finger under the waistline of your jeans, again, glancing up at you for permission. You didn't nod this time.
        "Please.." You whispered. 
        He was on top of the world. Hell, he owned the universe. You were begging him for something he had dreamt of giving you.
        He slid your panties down your thighs and over your feet, tossing them to the side somewhere. He stared down at your glistening slit. You were already dripping.
        He traced a single finger over the front of your pelvis, feeling the smooth, freshly shaved skin beneath his callous.
        "Ya didn't have to shave for me." He whispered. You blushed.
        "I just--"
        "Shh. It's okay." He cooed, gently running that same finger down your slit with painful gentleness. Your mouth gaped immediately, eyebrows pressed together. You had touched yourself plenty, but it felt so different when he did it. So new. "All this for me?" He teased, holding up his finger coated in your wetness. You blushed again. He raised his finger to his mouth and sucked it clean. You watched, helplessly infatuated with the dreamy sight below. Dreamy. Were you dreaming?
        He lowered his face down, kissing softly over your lips before he finally swiped his tongue through your slit. You jerked and gasped, as you did for the next few seconds as he started to acclimate you to the sensation of his tongue.
        "Relax." She whispered. You gasped again when his tongue glided flatly over your cunt, but you let out a shaky exhale and did as he said. You relaxed. When he felt you melt down into the bed, that was when he really got to work, flicking his tongue over and around your clit until he found a rhythm that you responded to. Your breaths and inhales slowly blended into a pattern of moans and tiny whines. He had you now, exactly how he needed you. Comfortable in bliss.
        He slowed his pace then sped it up a few times, memorizing every reaction your body had to offer. When he stopped licking and started sucking on your clit, he slid a single finger inside you. If you were a virgin he was gonna have to loosen you up and get you ready. He wasn't one to gloat, but he was probably thicker than most, so he knew you'd need as much help as you could get.
        You let out a moan as his digit slid inside you. That paired with the ache in your clit as he sucked at it was giving you visions of stars.
        He got back to licking in little circles over your clit, slow at first, but then he sped up. He slipped another finger in, massaging your insides as your legs began to shake around his shoulders. 
        "Oh god."  You breathed. You felt a buzz in your lower half, a warm feeling building in your lower abdomen. You were getting close, and he could tell. He wanted to make you wait. He wanted you to be as eager for his cock as you were for his mouth. However, he wasn't entirely sure he'd last that long. You were so tight around his fingers, convulsing and pulsating, and he hadn't felt the inside of a woman in a long time.
        So, he took you all the way. He kept his pace with his tongue and fingers as he built you up, brick by brick, until you crumbled. It didn't take long at all. You shuddered and let out a loud moan, hips rocking against his face as you trembled and whined and rode out your orgasm. 
        It was more than you could have ever anticipated. Your fingers were nothing compared to what he had just done to you. You didn't think you'd ever recover.
        He slowed down, just barely gliding his tongue over your clit and twitching his fingers inside you to ensure you rode out the full length of your high, only pulling away and slipping out when he was sure you were overstimulated enough.
        Your chest was rising and dropping as you stared down at him and his wet mess of a chin. Your lids were heavy. He climbed back up to your face and planted a kiss on your forehead before he stood up off the bed and began to strip.
        Oh, right, the sex part. You had forgotten entirely. Your eyes fixated on the bulge under his boxers. They grew wide when he slid those off, too, and the sight of his bare cock hit you. It was long and thick, and you had no idea how you were going to take all that. He didn't expect you to, though. He'd try of course, but he'd be carefully monitoring for any signs of pain.
        When he climbed back on top of you, you stared up at him nervously. He leaned down and left little kisses along your jaw before finally resting his lips on yours. You ran your fingers through his hair as you kissed him back.
        "Ya still want this?" He mumbled against you.
        "Yes." You whispered. 
        He took your approval and looked down and guided his tip to your entrance. You bit your lip with anticipation when you felt the hard pressure of his head against you. He looked at you. You nodded. With that final gesture, he pushed the tip in. Your face contorted. He watched you as he pushed in a little more, and a little more, stopping when you whimpered.
        "Y'alright?"
        "Uh-huh." You squeaked.
        "Y'sure?"
        "Yeah. Keep going. I want you to." You insisted. Well, if you insisted.
        He pushed in further, achingly slow until he bottomed out. When the base of his shaft connected with your pelvis, your eyes widened. You let out a deep moan. Your own fingers could neve stretch you that way, could never reach that far inside you. It was an entirely new feeling. You couldn't tell how you liked it just yet.
        When you didn't protest, he pulled out and pumped back in, slowly at first, soft strokes, until your body relaxed and you were visibly acclimated. 
        When he was confident you could take it, that was when he sped up, fucking you harder and  faster by the minute. Your body tensed up around him. He could feel your walls clench and pulsate around his cock. He was starting to think you might cum again.
        He leaned into your ear.
        "Can ya cum again for me?"
        Your eyes glazed over, lids falling lazily over the majority of your vision. Between your moans and whimpering you managed to choke out the words; "I-- I think so.."
        "Mm." He growled lowly. You gripped his arms tightly, tuning out every thought as you pictured his cock pumping in and out of you, hitting that sensitive spot inside you that you had no idea existed until that moment. A familiar warmth washed over you. Tension in your stomach built and built, until finally.
        "Yes!" You gasped, as if answering his question again.
        "C'mon, girl.." He panted. He was also terrifyingly close, teetering on the edge. He only held back in hopes he'd squeeze another orgasm out of you first.
        A high pitched whine escaped you as your body buzzed, shivers crawling over you as you came. If your sounds weren't enough, he could feel the pulsation around his cock and he knew he was almost in the clear. He clenched his jaw, trying as hard as he could to hold it back while he fucked you through your climax. Eventually he just couldn't take it anymore. 
        He pulled out as fast as he could, groaning as he stroked and milked hot cum out onto your stomach. You were breathless and sex drunk as you laid limp on the bed, watching him. When he caught his breath, he leaned down and grabbed your panties. He used them to wipe you clean of your own juices and his, before doing the same for himself.
        "Ya gon' make it?" He teased you in your incapacitated state.
        "Yep." You said lazily. "'Cause I'm gonna need  more."
        He chuckled. "I need time to--"
        "I meant tomorrow. And the next day, and the next day." 
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Deployment Sucks but I Swallow | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley was used to having your undivided attention when he was about to leave for a long deployment, because you'd been spoiling him that way for years. When you spent the day with your friends and got home late instead, he wanted to be annoyed, but everything you do is just too sweet. 
Warnings: Fluff, language, oral, Rooster loves getting blowjobs from his wife, 18+
Length: 3200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
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"Seriously?" Bradley muttered as he sat on his living room couch all alone with a beer in one hand and the remote in the other. This was his last night at home for the next four months, and you should have been here with him. You said you were having a late Sunday brunch with some friends and then coming home, but now it was dinnertime. He would be boarding an aircraft carrier tomorrow, Valentine's Day, at five in the morning, and he wouldn't be home until June. And yet you were still out with your friends while he stared at the enormous bouquet of roses on the coffee table that he got for you.
Every time he took a sip of his beer, the flash of his gold wedding band made him even more irritated. You'd never been like this in the past. Even before you and he got married, you would make a big fuss over him for several days leading up to his departure. He'd gotten used to that special treatment. He literally thrived when you used to run your fingers through his hair and tell him over and over again how much you were going to miss him the night before he left. And now that you weren't here in his lap, loving all over him, he was actually kind of pissed off about it.
He dug his phone out of his pocket, unlocked it, and tried his best not to be too snarky when he texted you again. 
Do you think you'll be home soon?
He waited twenty-one minutes for a response as the sky outside darkened even more and his patience waned further. "You're spoiled," he admitted out loud. But it was completely all your fault, because you'd overindulged him with your love for so long that now he was pouting when you finally wrote back.
On my way! I'll pick up dinner!
He groaned. If you were going to stop for food, it would take you even longer to get here, but he hadn't made anything, because he thought you'd have been home hours ago. So he texted you back the one thing that he knew would get his irritation across.
Fine.
But even that didn't seem to do anything, because you were all smiles when you floated through the front door thirty-four minutes later with a cardboard box in one hand and a bag from his favorite takeout place in the other. And you looked to damn gorgeous, he felt his resolve slipping. 
"Sorry I'm so late!" you said with a laugh. "I had such a long day."
Bradley tracked your movements from the couch with narrowed eyes. "Yeah. Me too. I thought you'd be home five hours ago."
"I completely lost track of time," you told him as your eyes settled on the roses. "Are those for me?"
"Happy Valentine's Day," he mumbled with a shrug, annoyed by the way his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him like he was your only source of happiness in the world. But he couldn't bite his tongue as you set the box down and brought the food over to him with a smile. "What did you do after brunch? You were gone forever."
You nibbled on your lip as you ran your finger along one of the rose petals. "I was hanging out with Erika Fitch and Morgan Floyd for a little bit. We went to Erika and Reuben's house. I'm really sorry it took so long."
Bradley wanted to keep pouting and being cranky, especially since it sounded like Payback got to see more of you on Bradley's last day before deployment than he did. But when you bent to smell the flowers before dropping the takeout bag onto the table, you moaned his name softly before easing yourself down onto his lap. 
"Baby," he whispered, melting into your touch as soon as your fingers were in his hair. And then your lips found his, and he wasn't sure why he'd been so upset with you. You felt perfect in his arms, and you smelled sweet.
"I love you, Bradley," you whispered, and he buried his nose against your neck and inhaled. 
"You smell so fucking good," he moaned. "So sweet. Like candy. Delicious."
"Do I?" you asked coyly, raking your fingers back through his hair. "Or did you just miss me all day?"
"Baby, you know I'm spoiled," he groaned as you reached for his jeans zipper. "I wanted to spend the afternoon with you. I'm leaving tomorrow. For four months this time." 
"I know. I didn't give you enough attention today, did I?" you whispered as you eased the zipper down. "I'm really, really sorry. I wanted to, but I got sidetracked making you something sweet. I always want to be with you on your last day at home."
He kissed along your neck and breathed in the incredible scent again. "You made me something sweet? You smell like something sweet. Makes me want to taste you everywhere."
Bradley could hear the smile in your voice as he licked your collarbone while you eased your hand inside his underwear and wrapped your hand around his cock. "Your dinner will get cold if you don't eat it now," you whispered. 
"I don't care. I want my wife."
You moaned his name again, and that sweet scent was everywhere. "Then take me to bed, Lieutenant Bradshaw." Bradley's senses were filled with you as he carried you into the bedroom, and he swore he could smell chocolate as he undressed you. Your skin was extra sweet, and the scent clung to your hair.
"I don't know how you've made me this crazy for you," he whispered as he yanked his shirt off, "but I swear you smell like chocolate. Everywhere."
You giggled as you started to pull his jeans down, kneeling in front of him. "I know it's your favorite kind of snack."
"Incorrect," he grunted as you licked his cock before he stepped out of his pants and underwear. "My wife is my favorite kind of snack."
You took him between your parted lips and sucked on him like a lollipop before you whispered, "You're allowed dessert before dinner tonight."
Then Bradley had you underneath him in bed, your hands pinned to the pillow above your head as he licked your neck. "Next time I'm leaving, I want you with me all damn day. No brunch. No hanging with the girls."
You moaned his name as he slipped himself inside your wetness. "Anything you want. Anything."
He pressed his lips to yours as he filled you completely. "I want you."
--------------------------
Leaving the house with you at four in the morning on Monday was hard enough for Bradley, but the way you clung to him in the Bronco while he drove was making it so much worse. You had that box you brought home with you yesterday at your feet while he steered through the silent darkness. 
"I'm going to miss you so much," you whispered as the aircraft carrier came into view. "Four months is such a long time."
He was just happy you got home at dinnertime last night and let him love you nonstop. He hadn't stopped touching you long enough to reheat his dinner until almost midnight, and even then, you were nearby. Right now he was exhausted, but he'd have ample time to catch up on sleep when he didn't have his perfect wife with him.
"These four months are going to suck," he whispered as he parked near the docks, happy he'd given himself extra time to hold you before he had to board the carrier. "Happy Valentine's Day, Baby." When you unbuckled your seatbelt and crawled toward his lap, he groaned. "You still smell like chocolate."
"Do I?" you whispered with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his neck. 
With his nose buried in your hair, he asked, "Is it a new perfume or something? Because I definitely don't hate it."
Your soft laughter filled the interior of the Bronco as you shook your head. "No, it's not perfume. It's actually chocolate. I told you I made you something sweet."
Bradley was nibbling on your ear, his cock twitching in his khakis as your thigh pressed against his length. "What did you make?" he mumbled mindlessly, but then you were pulling away from him. He was scrambling to keep you in his lap where he wanted you, but you were leaning down to grab the box from the floor. You set it on the passenger seat and smiled at him as you reached inside. 
"I made you candy bars," you said, handing him a thick piece of sweet smelling chocolate that was wrapped up in clear plastic. "Sixteen of them. One for each week that you'll be gone."
Bradley examined the candy in his hand and smiled as he looked up at you. "It says World's Best Husband on it."
"That's because you are," you told him, kissing his cheek. "Happy Valentine's Day. I'm going to miss you so much."
He was sure he was starting to blush in the predawn darkness as you handed him another one that said I'm So Sweet On You. "Oh," he whispered. "Erika and Morgan helped you make these yesterday, didn't they?"
"Yes," you told him as he tipped the box to look inside at the rest. They were all unique with white candies used for the lettering. He picked up one that said I Love Rooster and another that said Thinking About You. 
"I love these, Baby. Thank you," he muttered as he kissed your chin. "I'm sorry I got snippy with you last night."
You ran your fingers through his hair just the way he liked and said, "The girls and I didn't think it would take so long to make them. I wanted to be home with you all day yesterday. I promise."
He wrapped his left arm around you and pulled you snug against him as he pulled one more candy bar out of the box. When he read it, he smirked and held it up for you to read, too. His voice was deep as he asked, "Did you really make me a candy bar that says Deployment Sucks but I Swallow? In front of the girls?"
You bit your lip and wiggled yourself around on his lap, clearly knowing what that would do to him. "Reuben and Bob saw it too. I've never seen Bob blush so much in my life."
Bradley's cock throbbed against you, somehow even more turned on by the fact that his friends knew you were thinking about sucking him dry. "Fuck," he grunted, running his thumb over the letters that spelled out his dirty Valentine's Day message. He glanced around and found that while other cars had started to arrive, it was still pretty dark outside. So he looked you in the eye with one eyebrow raised and rasped, "Why don't you prove it?"
You took the bar from him and set it back in the box with the others. "Right here?" you asked, running your hands down his khaki shirt and over his pins as you leaned in closer to him. Your lips were skimming the scars on his neck as you added, "Right now?" But he could tell you were absolutely into the idea as your fingers found his belt while you kissed your way up to his ear. "I would love to."
You were moaning softly as you opened the fly of his uniform pants and carefully pulled his hardening length free. Bradley eased the seat back as you worked your familiar hand slowly up and down his length, making him jump in anticipation as he kissed your lips. Another car parked directly across from him, and you were illuminated by headlights as you moved the box from the seat back to the floor and ducked down. 
"Fuck," he grunted, tucking his hands behind his head as the headlights went out and your lips met his cock. "God, you're such a good girl." You were stretched across the seat on your belly, and he could already tell you were going to take your time, just like he wanted. There was a full thirty minutes left with you after all. The Bronco smelled like chocolate, and your mouth was warm around him as he whispered, "Nice and slow."
You moaned in agreement, nodding your head as you took him deeper and deeper. Bradley's head tipped back as he inhaled and exhaled slowly. You dragged your thumb down gently between his balls as he tapped the back of your throat, and you held him in place for a few beats. Now he was starting to doubt that he could last as long as he wanted to when you felt this incredible. He felt you gag softly as you started to ease back, and he could see stars at the edges of his vision. 
"Holy shit."
When you withdrew him, he could feel your saliva dripping down his length onto his pants. You licked at his tip and rubbed soft circles along his balls with your fingertips. You knew just how he wanted it, and he was like melted chocolate in your capable hands and mouth.
When you popped him free, your voice was soft and needy. "You better think of this when you eat that candy bar," you whispered, glancing up at him as his length rubbed your cheek.
Bradley let one hand drift down to the back of your neck. "I always think about you, but I'll be thinking about this on replay, Baby. Sweet chocolate and blowjobs from my wife."
You giggled as you took him between your lips again, and the soft vibrations had him thrusting up for more. His fingers were digging into your neck a little bit as he tried to get control of himself while you bobbed. Someone walked past the Bronco as he moaned, but he literally couldn't care less. The back of your head had never looked so appealing before as you got sloppier, every thrust met with wet sounds that only made him throb. 
He was gripping his own hair now as well while you pushed his hips back against the seat. "Baby," he whined as you treated him to the swirl of your tongue at the base of his cock. "I'm gonna miss you."
You nodded and moaned again, and Bradley reached out to grip the steering wheel in an effort to keep himself still while you worked your magic. With every tap of his cock against the back of your throat, his balls tightened until it was almost painful. "No, no, no," he whispered. "Not yet." 
You responded by slowing your pace incrementally, dragging your lips along his full length and sucking until he popped free. "But you taste so good," you whispered up at him with a grin. "I want you to come in my mouth."
He shook his head, mesmerized by you as you nuzzled your face against his cock and balls. "Jesus," he groaned, reaching for the back of your head and stroking your hair. "You wanna taste me?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed loudly in the small space as he shoved his cock between your lips. 
"You better swallow it all down," he grunted. "Just like you promised."
With your hands wrapped around his base, you squeezed him gently, sucking just right as you ran your tongue back and forth. He was grunting unintelligibly, hips jerking off the seat slightly as his head fell back against the headrest. 
"That's my girl. That's my girl," he whined, doing his best to keep his hand gentle against your head as you took him right up to his orgasm. Then you removed your hands, and as soon as you took him deep, your lips brushing his pubic hair and his balls, he came. "Baby!" he moaned, thrusting gently as you sputtered. He didn't want you to waste it. He wanted you to get every single drop. 
Bradley tipped his head forward and watched you swallow him down as you made sweet little sounds, the smell of the chocolate bars still in the air. You licked around his tip and cleaned him up as your gaze met his, and Bradley whispered, "I love you so much," as he caught his breath.
"I love you, too," you promised him as he pulled you back up to sit on his lap. Bradley tasted his cum in your mouth when he kissed you and cradled you against his body. "I'll miss you like crazy, and I'll be living for your calls. And I can't wait to spoil you when you get home again."
You kissed him all over his face as he whispered, "I love how much you've spoiled me. I'll be thinking about you nonstop, Baby."
A few minutes later, Bradley wiped away your tears and kissed your cheeks one last time before he boarded the aircraft carrier, and he watched you disappear into the distance with the dock as the sun rose behind you. He had one candy bar for every week he'd be away from you, and he couldn't wait to read the rest of them once he got to his bunk.
----------------------------
You were waiting very impatiently on the dock for your husband to join you on dry land once again. Your palms were sweating as you held onto two candy bars all wrapped up in plastic, hoping they wouldn't melt too badly. You texted him to let him know where you were standing, and now you just had to wait. And wait. You'd already gone four months without him, so this was just cruel. 
Every facetime call had been the highlight of your week while he was away. Bradley had been sure to tell you which candy bar he'd enjoyed that week, laughing about what you'd written on all of them. One time, he even ate the bar that said Hottest Guy in the Navy on it while he talked to you. 
You couldn't wait to take him home and spend days catching up with everything you and he had missed while you were apart. But first you needed to be in his arms. Then you heard him calling your name, and you almost dropped the candy bars as your husband made his way toward you. 
"Bradley!" you shouted, and then you were in his arms, and his lips were on yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck, careful not to drop his treats. "I missed you!" 
"I love you, Baby," he rasped, kissing his way back to your ear. "How the hell do you still smell like chocolate?" he asked, and you erupted into giggles. 
"Because I made you more candy bars," you told him as you found his lips with yours again. 
He kissed you until you were breathless, and then he pressed his nose to your cheek as he said, "I'm so damn spoiled. What did you make for me this time?" You smiled and held up the two candy bars, and he read them out loud. "I still suck.... Want me to prove it?"
Bradley's brown eyes went wide, and his crooked grin left you giddy. "Well?" you asked. "Should we go home so you can find out for sure?"
"Hell yes," he whined, hauling you and his bag and the candy toward the parking lot. "My deployment sucked, but you suck so much better, Baby."
----------------------------
Happy Valentine's Day! It's not my favorite holiday personally, so I thought I'd make Bradley stress a little bit. Make sure you hug an aviator today! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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887 notes · View notes
rogueddie · 9 months
Text
When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).
The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.
He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.
But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.
The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.
Sarah isn't downstairs.
He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.
His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.
He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.
After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.
Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.
The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.
At least, not a lot that he can make.
He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.
The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.
The next day goes the same.
The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.
The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.
The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.
The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.
The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.
The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?
The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.
"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."
"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"
She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"
"That's me! What's your name?"
"Robin."
He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"
"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"
"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"
"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.
"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."
"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.
"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."
"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"
"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."
"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."
"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"
"You don't understand, this is-"
"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."
"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"
"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."
"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."
She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.
"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"
Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"
"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"
"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."
"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."
"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"
He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."
"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"
"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."
"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."
"I guess."
She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."
"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."
"Do you even know what that means?"
"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."
"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"
"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."
"Your dad's an asshole."
Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"
"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"
Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.
"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."
"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"
"... No."
"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."
She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.
It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.
By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.
He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.
"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."
"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."
"What the hell happened to him?"
"I don't know, I called you!"
"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.
"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."
"Dustin!" Robin scolds.
"What? Lying to him won't help!"
"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."
Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.
"Weird," he says.
"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."
"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"
"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."
"Who's been taking care of him?"
"No one."
"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"
"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."
Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."
"Oh, shit."
"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.
"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.
"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."
"And he's... not mean?"
"Not a cruel bone in his body."
"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"
"I'm not going anywhere."
"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.
"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."
"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.
"That's... quick."
"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."
"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."
"I don't think that's how it works."
"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."
"Oh... um... do you have to?"
"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"
"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"
"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.
"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.
"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."
Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.
It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.
He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.
A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.
"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."
Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"
"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."
"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."
"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.
But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."
"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."
"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."
"Yeah, but Robins cool."
"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."
"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"
"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.
"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"
Part two
2K notes · View notes
d10nyx · 1 month
Text
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teachers pet
ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader
cw: 18+content, dub-con, pussy spanking, spanking, degradation, milddd brat taming, teacher x student relationships (age gap, but reader is in college), p in v, pull-out method, cum eating
a/n: i have been really struggling to write recently, so i hope you guys still like this :3 i um... hate it sorry it's not that good... writer's block is so shitty rn. feedback is appreciated !!
word count: 1.3k words
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Leon finds you infuriating at the best of times. Sitting at the front of the lecture hall, giggling as you look at your phone. You never pay attention to his lectures - he doesn't understand why you even bother to show up.
You're not even subtle about ignoring him. The least you could do is try and hide in the back like the rest of his students who don't give a fuck.
To make matters worse, your grades are actually decent. Nothing to write home about, but you always turn his assignments in on time, and you've never failed to get a passing mark. If you failed, at least you'd flunk out of his class, and he wouldn't have to put up with your shit anymore.
It's like you want to get a rise out of him.
He's sick of it. He's sick of you. He retired and took on teaching college kids in the hopes he'd finally have some time to relax, but you seemed to enjoy making his life a living hell. He'd had enough of it. As you're packing up once he dismisses the class, he makes his way to your desk, his footsteps echoing across the lecture hall.
“Not you, miss. I need to have a word with you. Please come to my desk once you're packed up.” He tells you, tapping two fingers against your desk as he leans in to speak before he's returning to sit at the desk at the front of the hall.
You let out an exaggerated groan at his words, shoving your laptop into your backpack before begrudgingly making your way over to him. Your bag is slung over one shoulder, hanging precariously off to the side.
“You wanted to see me, sir?”
“That's right.” He says with a slight nod of his head, gesturing for you to take the seat across from him. He leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other as he waits for you to sit.
“I'm going to be honest. You've gained my attention, however it's been for all the wrong reasons. You're smart enough. I'm sure if you applied yourself to this course, you'd get top marks. Is there something I can do to help? Is it a motivation issue? Something at home?”
“Well, if I'm being honest, sir. I thought when I chose this elective, it'd be more interesting. Your lectures are, like… seriously boring.” You say with a smirk that makes it clear you're just trying to frustrate him further.
“I'm seriously getting sick of your attitude.” He bites out, leaning forward against his desk. His eyes are narrowed and locked onto your own. “You can drop an elective. It will have no effect on your main course of study. Why are you still here?”
“It's fun to annoy you, sir.” Is your response, a shit-eating grin spreading across your face.
That's it. Leon is a patient man. He'd tried his best to help you. To figure out what the issue was so he could fix it. But you? Everything about you made him want to rip his hair out.
“Stand up.” He hisses, the feet of his chair screeching against the hardwood floor as he pushes it back suddenly before standing, stalking his way to your side of the desk. You don't stand, crossing your arms as you lean back in the chair.
“I said, stand up!” He repeats, gripping you by the arm and tugging you to your feet. He presses down harshly on your shoulders, forcing you to bend over his desk. “You want to act like an unruly child? Fine. I'll treat you like one.”
“You can not be serious.” You grit out, moving to straighten back up before your chest is forced against the surface of the desk once more with a strong hand pushing down on your back, right between your shoulder blades. “Jesus. I always knew you were a fucking freak.”
“This could all have been avoided if you weren't such a brat.” He hisses, raising your skirt to expose the curve of your ass. You hear him snort, bunching up the fabric of your panties and yanking them upwards harshly, making the fabric bunch up between your lips in a wedgie. It draws a whine from your lips, your brows furrowing as you drop your cheek against his desk.
“Fucking slut. Is that why you're acting up in my class, hmm? You want attention? Prancing around in those tiny skirts, skimpy panties like these underneath ‘em?” He lets go of your panties, sliding them down your thighs before smacking his flattened fingers repeatedly against your pussy until it runs hot, dripping all over his skin.
“Fuck… fuck off.” You say through gritted teeth, your mouth twitching downwards as he continues to spank your pussy. You bite down on your tongue, trying to prevent any noises from spilling past your lips.
He pinches your clit harshly between his thumb and forefinger, giving it a little yank. He grins at the sound of your whimper and the way you jerk away from him, letting out a low chuckle. “What was that, sweetheart?”
You hear the sound of a belt buckle and the shuffling of fabric, which is enough to send a shiver running down your spine. You swallow the lump in your throat, suddenly feeling your confidence drain from you. When you speak, your voice is almost a whisper. “Mr. Kennedy…”
“Oh? You finally learning to keep that mouth shut?” He grunts, running his tip teasingly up and down between your folds, letting his cock catch on your hole just to see you jump. “Trying to pretend you're not a filthy slut, but your cunt is crying for me...”
He presses forward with a low groan, burying himself to the hilt inside of you. His cock throbs as your walls tighten around him, his fingers digging painfully into the fat of your hips as he starts to fuck into you, his pelvis pummelling against your ass with every shift of his hips.
“Greedy.” He scolds, smacking your ass harshly, and once more just to hear the way you whimper when his hand connects with your flesh. “She's sucking me right in. Know this is what you've been wanting… shoulda asked, sweetheart. Pretty sluts like you always get what they want.”
“Perfect pussy… squeezing me so tight.” He groans, thrusting deeper into your cunt, pulling you back onto his cock and angling his hips so he's bumping against your sweet spot every time he bottoms out. He fucks you with deep, hard strokes, letting you feel the drag of every inch of his thick cock inside of you.
“Ah, that's right. Just need to fuck the brattiness out of you, hmm? Goooood fucking girl. Gonna… gonna make me cum.” He says through gritted teeth, slipping a hand down to circle a thumb around your clit. You babble helplessly as he touches you, nothing but ‘please’s and ‘sir's spilling past your lips. He almost cums inside of you when he feels your clenching around him as your orgasm hits, but he's not too pussydrunk to release how stupid it'd be to get his student knocked up, so he pulls out quickly and coats your ass in his cum.
“You gonna be a good girl for me now?” He asks, dropping to his knees behind you, his tongue darting out to lick his cum off of you. The sensation has you shivering, but you nod weakly at his question. He pulls your panties up, straightening out your skirt before patting your butt and going to sit at his desk once more, as if nothing's happened. “Good. That's good.”
“Come see me after class tomorrow, babe. Gotta make sure the lesson really sinks in.”
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hannieehaee · 5 months
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content: badboy!wonwoo (he's actually a cutie pie he's just v careless with his safety T-T), established relationship, break up, angst, fluffy ending (it's always fluffy endings here or i die), mentions of shady work, mentions of bruises, etc.
part 2
wc: 1191
a/n: thank you so much to the person who requested this!! im rlly bad with angst so this was hard haha if any of u want a smutty continuation pls lmk <3 i was gonna finish w smut but i wasnt sure ;-;
masterlist
"how can you expect me to care about you when you have such little regard for yourself?"
those were some of the last words wonwoo had heard from you last time he saw you.
he had, once again, arrived home late, blue and grey from yet another altercation he'd found himself in. he had promised you he'd leave his shady past behind. that he'd take care of you and you'd exist happily together, never having to worry for the other's safety.
it had taken you a while to break, begging him to put you out of your misery and either leave you or promise you a life in which you wouldn't be terrified every time he stepped foot out of the door. living without you was just unconceivable for wonwoo, which left him with only one choice.
he managed to keep his promise for about a week or two, happy to arrive punctual at home every night and find you waiting for him, more than ready to shower him with your affections.
he hadn't meant to break his promise. nothing broke him more than the look in your eyes as he entered your shared home, two hours late and with twenty missed calls from you. his skin was once again covered with bruises, disheveled hair and exhausted state to match. he hadn't thought this would be the end. that despite of his pleas to please stay, you'd still pack your bags, eyes filled with tears as you cried at him that you couldn't stay and watch him slowly kill himself like this. what you hadn't realized was that nothing could kill him more than your absence.
~
it had only been two weeks since you left him. two weeks since his last genuine smile graced his face. two weeks since he was able to sleep. and most ironically, two weeks since he'd gotten into some type of life-threatening altercation. his bruises had healed by now, taking longer than usual now that he didn't have you to tend to him like before. he still kept up with you, watching you from afar as you cruised through life. he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, hoping to respect your decision to leave and take his heart with you, but your absence was too much for him. if he couldn't have you, he'd at least watch you from afar, dreading what he had lost. so that's what he did, and thats what he was currently doing right now.
you were attending some party, he'd found out. which meant he needed to be in attendance too and watch over you. he felt dejected as he watched you have fun with your friends, sad that maybe the breakup just hadn't been that big of a deal to you. maybe you were truly better off without him. maybe he needed to leave you alone and allow you to enjoy life without a burden such as jeon wonwoo.
he wanted to leave, he truly did, but his body wouldn't let him. he just wanted you back into his life so badly. everything had turned bleak the moment you left, making him just a shell of himself. he wanted to approach you and get on his knees (in front of all the wasted party goes, even) and beg you for forgiveness. he wanted to cry out to you how much he loved you, that you were the light of his life, that he'd leave it all behind for you. but he was too much of a coward to do that. so, he prepared himself mentally in order to leave, sparing one last look your way before disappearing into the crowd. except you were gone. in his distracted state, you had left. your friends were still there, but you were the sole disappearance. wonwoo knew he should've just left you alone, but he couldn't live with himself if something were to happen to you.
he frantically looked for you for a good five minutes before finding you in some empty balcony, sitting down against the rail with your legs hanging from it. he could only see your profile, but was able to spot the shine of your cheeks, a clear indicator that you'd been crying. he once again couldn't help himself when he spoke up.
"baby?" he was slow at approaching you, not wanting to surprise you too much.
you jumped a bit anyways, "wonwoo? what are you doing here?"
"i ... i wanted to see you. i'm sorry"
you had gotten up, now facing him but keeping yourself closed off, arms wrapped around yourself and eyes not meeting his, very much unlike your usual affectionate self.
"wonwoo ... you can't keep doing this. i know you've been following me around. you need to leave me alone."
"i .."
"do you think this is easy for me? i love you. so fucking much. i just cant watch you get hurt over and over. i cant wait home late not knowing if you'll actually come back," you'd began ranting, your emotions getting stronger by the second, "every time you leave it's like i have to hold my breath, and i cant breathe until i have you back to me safely. i can't do this anymore. i love you, i-"
wonwoo couldnt take it anymore. he walked the rest of the way and held onto you. he lightly grabbed you and placed you in his arms, engulfing your shaking form against his chest. you'd begun crying halfway through your speech, your words becoming slurred and you shook and sniffled throughout. wonwoo couldn't physically handle seeing you in such distress without wanting to take it away. so he held onto you. what surprised him was that you held him back. you nuzzled your face into his chest, wrapping your arms tightly around him as you sobbed against him, crying that you loved him.
"i love you ... so fucking much," pulling away, he made sure to look into your eyes as he spoke, "i can't exist without you. i'll stop- i stopped. i'll leave it all behind for you. we can leave. together. i'll do anything for you, just- please. please come back to me. i love you."
"wonwoo ..."
"i mean it! i'll keep you safe. i'll keep us safe. we can start new. just us. you'll never have to worry about me again, i promise. just need you back. please. i can't do this without you, i-"
like in any other cliche, you pulled him into you, kissing his words back into his mouth. but he didn't care. he kissed all emotions right back into yours, letting all the sadness he had in him dissipate against your lips. you kissed until you became lightheaded, sighing against each other's lips even when you were out of breath, refusing to pull away. wonwoo was finally the one to pull away, almost losing his mind at the way your lips chased after his.
"let me take you home? i love you. wanna take care of you."
and with that, you walked back into his life, hand in hand, with the promise that his love for you would keep him safe.
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skyahri · 1 month
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I'll Take You In |Naruto Men X Reader| HC
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Characters: Kakashi Hatake, Sasuke Uchiha, Shikamaru Nara, Naruto Uzumaki, and Gaara
Summary: They bring home a baby.
Warnings: Implications of child abandonment.
- - - - -
Kakashi Hatake
It was late at night, and he'd just returned home from a mission.
You immediately noticed the little bundle in his arms. Without a second thought, you'd plucked the little one out of his arms and made your way to the couch for cuddles.
"Who's this?"
He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and took the spot next to you.
"A little girl we found alone in the woods on the way back. No one in the area claimed her, so we brought her back here."
"She's beautiful."
"I offered to take her in."
You were shocked by that. Kakashi had never shown any interest in kids, so for him to offer to take one in was unexpected.
"I know, I should've talked to you first, I just," he sighed, "I got kind of attached."
You shook your head at him, worried he'd taken your shock as disappointment.
"I get why. She definitely fits the baby sized hole I've suddenly acquired in my heart."
The next morning, you'd taken the little girl to Sakura for a checkup and to the records hall for a birth certificate.
Meanwhile, Kakashi had recruited a Gai to assist him with the nursery.
By end of day, you had a fully built and stocked bedroom for your daughter.
It hadn't even been 24 hours, and yet you'd already perfectly filled out as a family.
Sasuke Uchiha
You'd just returned home from grocery shopping when you found Sasuke and Kakashi talking in the living room.
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary until Sasuke turned around holding a baby.
You dropped the bags in your hand and immediately made your way over to them.
"Who's the cutie?"
You combed your fingers through the baby's hair and fought the urge to kiss their face.
"Naruto and I found him in the woods on the way back from Suna. We asked around, but no one seemed to be missing a baby."
Sasuke passed the baby to you, knowing you would most definitely want to cuddle.
He made eye contact with Kakashi, a silent way of telling him to leave. He did without protest, knowing exactly why he was no longer welcome.
"I actually wanted to discuss something with you."
You hummed, too busy playing peekaboo to pay your husband any mind.
"I would like to... keep the baby."
Your eyes snapped up at him. Who was this and where was your husband?
"You want to keep a random baby you found?"
He blushed, not really liking the forwardness of your words.
"He's a good baby. He'd make a great addition to the clan."
You didn't need any further convincing. You loved kids and wanted plenty of them. This would just be a head start of sorts.
You hugged and kissed Sasuke, thankful you had a wonderful husband.
Shikamaru Nara
Oh boy.
When Shikamaru came home with a baby, you knew something was up.
He never volunteered for work, so you knew something unfortunate had to have happened.
You'd made your way over to him to see the baby, but stopped when you didn't recognize them.
Sakura and Hinata had recently had their babies, so you expected it'd be one of them, but no. This baby didn't look like anyone you knew.
"They found her in one of Orochimaru's old hideouts. Sakura checked her out, and she seems okay, but..."
"But?"
"She needs a home."
You nodded. Obviously, she needed a home. Then it dawned on you.
"You want us to keep her?"
He nodded and looked away.
You smiled.
"She must be something special if you wanna take her in."
"Kakashi asked me specifically, and I don't know, there's just something about her..."
You stopped him before he started talking himself into a hole. You understood, and were more than happy to bring the little one into your family.
Naruto Uzumaki
When Sakura told you that your husbands had found a baby on their way home from Suna, you weren't very surprised that Naruto had come home with them.
He looked a bit sheepish, like a kid who got caught by his mom.
Neither of you had to say anything. You already knew what he was going to ask, and he already knew that you knew.
"Look, I know what the orphanage is like, and he's so little, and-"
"It's okay, Naruto. I understand."
He felt a flood of relief wash through him.
"So we can keep him?"
You laughed and took the baby from him.
He really was so little, probably less than a week old. You felt a sense of obligation, not just because of Naruto. It felt like that baby was supposed to be yours.
"Yeah, I think I'd like to take him in."
Gaara
Since he had taken over the role of Kazekage, the sand village had been striving. Poverty was at an all time low, shinobi had higher success rates due to higher moral, and the economy had been booming.
The orphanage had, thankfully, been empty for quite some time, so when a baby was suddenly in need of a home, they came to him first.
He thought about reopening the orphanage for this one child, but he had a better idea.
Which is why he had come home from his regular work day with a baby.
To say you were shocked would be an understatement. You never imagined Gaara would be the one to bring home a child, that was much more yout Forte.
"I should have discussed this with you prior. I can always make alternate arrangements if you-"
You shut him up instantly.
This baby was now yours. A little girl, a daughter, just as you had always imagined.
"She's perfect."
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writer-in-theory · 1 year
Text
Ever since he can remember, everyone has always said Steve looked like his Mama.
He acts like her too—that persistent kindness and protectiveness for the people they love, the ability to talk to people with relative ease, even the propensity for having a bit of an attitude. Even his soft brown eyes and the texture of his hair, all of it was Maggie Harrington.
Maggie always said that Steve was her greatest accomplishment, one of her best friends. She was so proud of her son, first for being Hawkins High's first All-State Champ in swimming and then for being a good role model in town. She'd missed the moment when he began to distance from her, from his parents, until she hardly knew anything about his life. She thinks it might've been because of Robert.
Steve Harrington could only have the best in store for him, which is why she'd allowed Robert to be tough with him. He knew what it meant to build a good future, what it would take to find happiness and stability. So she'd let Robert yell at him for throwing a party at their house and allowing a poor girl to go missing there. And she'd thought it had worked, based on the way Steve started bringing around sweet Nancy Wheeler and stopped hanging out with the Hagan boy. She thought it had worked.
When the Harringtons came home from their last business trip to Chicago, Steve was being dropped off by Police Chief Hopper. It looked like he'd been in a fight, and as much was confirmed when the Chief told him to stay out of trouble. Robert had been furious, ready to lay into Steve about the Harrington name and respectability, but then a group of kids Maggie didn't recognize tumbled out of the car, too, all hugging Steve and thanking him. He was their hero, they'd told the Harringtons, Steve was the best babysitter ever. Steve had never showed interest in babysitting before, but the way all of those kids so clearly looked up to him had Maggie in near tears.
Maggie had a feeling the mall job was a mistake. She'd felt it the moment Robert made the decision, loudly proclaiming that their son would learn what it was like to work a tough job, that he'd realize how lucky he had it that there was a family business he could be hired in. Maggie hated the humiliated look their Steven had given the first time he set out for the mall in that sailor's uniform, but her husband knew what it was like to be a teen boy, surely he had Steve's best interests at heart.
But then she'd gotten the call that there had been a fire, that Steve was involved and they needed to get down to the hospital. If she thought the fight in '84 looked bad, then nothing could have prepared her for the sight of her son in that hospital bed, vomiting profusely into a container and wincing through the obvious pain in his head. The morning after, that same group of kids fought the hospital staff to visit Steve, demanded it. The one with curly hair and the youngest girl loudly proclaimed that Steve had saved their lives, that he'd risked himself to make sure they were safe. Her baby was an actual goddamn town hero and she'd almost missed it, she almost never knew because she was too busy worrying about his future.
Maggie stopped worrying about family names and legacies, after that. She was the first to ask how his shifts at the movie store were and never minded when his talkative friend came over for dinner. Maggie kept waiting for the moment Steve would admit the two of them were dating, but he kept insisting they were friends, best friends.
She never saw Eddie Munson coming.
After the fourth tragedy to befall Steve, Maggie was convinced he needed to get out of Hawkins before it destroyed him. No one could find Steve in the immediate aftermath of the earthquake. He wasn't at the shelter, or the hospital, or with any other search parties. She'd worried briefly that the serial killer had gotten him, too, that they'd have to see what was so horrific about the method of killing that had left the town sparking a witch hunt for the guy.
He was found later at the Munson trailer, wearing military-style gear and bleeding out from his abdomen and neck. Maggie would never understand how an earthquake could cause that level of damage, nor the kind that was found on Eddie Munson just beside him. When Steve had woken up in the hospital, he'd simply told her that he couldn't talk about it, that it was better if she didn't know. She thinks that might be true.
Once Steve recovered, he stayed by the Munson boy's bedside every day. He'd bring a book, or a hacky sack, anything to keep himself busy while Eddie slept off his injuries. And when he came home, Steve was with him constantly. They were volunteering, he'd told her.
Then one day, months after the earthquake, Steve came home looking nervous.
"Mom." Maggie ached for the days when he'd come waddling into the living room screaming Mama, missed when he felt like he could tell her everything. When had that disappeared? "I need to tell you something."
"Of course, Stevie. You can tell me anything." Steve winced in the way she figured he would: they both know that hadn't been true in years.
Steve shuffled on his feet, wrung his hands together and worried them through his hair. Finally he stood ramrod straight, eyes focused directly on hers as he blurted the truth out. "Mom, I like guys. And girls. It's called being bisexual and I'm not sorry for it. I can pack a bag tonight if I have to, but I won't pretend anymore. I won't."
It was supposed to be scary. Maggie knows the version of her four years ago would have been terrified by the statement, angry or upset. Maybe she still is a little scared, only because she knows what the world is like for people who are different. She used to be upset by people who were different. In '83, she might've kicked Steve out for the fear of it all. But looking at him now, she saw the kid who drove those middle schoolers to the arcade because he could, and who saved peoples' lives in the mall at the near expense of his own, the guy who believed Eddie Munson was innocent even when the entire town had turned on him out of fear of the Other. She saw Steve Harrington, her darling son who'd grown up before she even realized it, becoming far greater a man than she could have ever hoped for.
"How long have you two been dating? You and Eddie Munson?" Maggie asked gently, a smile working its way on her face. She'd wondered why he hadn't dated anyone after Nancy, but maybe it was simply that he wasn't telling her about that part of his life anymore.
Steve's eyes widened, lips parting like he was surprised by the response. He floundered a little, looking around for an explanation. "Um. Since last summer, we met at the mall. How did you...?"
Maggie laughed then, far brighter than it ever had been in years. "I know when my son's in love. I just didn't know where to look, didn't notice the answer was right there."
"You're not...mad? Disappointed?"
"Honey," Maggie sighed, taking a few steps forward so she could grab onto his arms. "Steven Robert Harrington, you are my son. I will always love you, no matter what. I'm so sorry I ever ever made you feel otherwise. All I've ever wanted for you is happiness, and if that's with Eddie Munson then that's that."
"Mom," Steve croaked, voice cracking around the word as he pulled her in for a hug. She could feel him shake in her arms, sniffling like he was trying to hide the tears. "Do you want to meet him? Eddie, I mean, do you want to...?"
"He's outside?"
"He came over to support me, in case we needed to, well." In case his parents were kicking him out. God, where had they gone so wrong? "Do you want to?"
"Please," Maggie answered quietly, knowing this wouldn't be enough to make up for the years of wrong they'd done. She wanted to know her son, wanted to know the people who made him happiest. She wanted to hear about his day and know that if something ever went wrong that he would call his parents himself, not wait for the hospital or the police to do so. "Please."
Then Steve was bringing in Eddie Munson, who stood out in the pristine, polished Harrington home but who made Maggie's son's eyes light up in a way she'd never seen them. He was smiling, holding his hand out for a handshake.
"Mama, this is Eddie," Steve was saying, and Maggie could cry because it felt like she'd done something right, because she could see how deeply in love Steve was with Eddie because it was a mirror of her own expression when she looked at Robert. This was her son, and her future son-in-law, and Maggie couldn't be prouder.
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almond-tofuuu · 2 months
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Wanna sit on Zayne’s lap (innocently) facing him with my face buried in his chest while he works 😊 and then maybe after a while grind on him a lil, just enough to rile him up, and then keep doing it until he snaps and pounds me into the nearest surface 😊
anon you are not the only one who wants to do this!!! If I've said it once, I'll say it again: ZAYNE WANTS US TO GRIND DOWN IN HIM!! why else would he keep letting us sit in his lap 🤷🏻‍♀️
Also sorry it took so long for me to write this, work has been brutal 😭😭😭 hope you enjoy!!
Dangerous Game
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Zayne x reader
Warnings: nsfw minors dni, grinding, orgasm denial, Zayne's big dick (it needs it's own warning), pet names (Angel)
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Zayne was busy, always busy. Even when he came home after a long shift at the hospital, he still had more work that needed to be completed. And you understood, you really did, his job was very important and his meticulous nature was just one of the many things you loved about him. But right now you were cursing the seemingly neverending amount of paperwork stacked on the desk next to him. Hearing that he had actually gotten off work on time for once, you were looking forward to spending an evening curled up on the sofa with your loving boyfriend. But your plans were cut short the moment he picked up a pen and started filling out documents. Watching him from the doorway you let out a small sigh, resigning yourself to spending another evening entertaining yourself, when an idea formed in your mind. Hiding the mischievous smirk growing on your face, you tiptoed your way over to Zayne, stopping beside his chair, gently poking his shoulder. Zayne's eyes flickered over to you, pen halting mid stroke as he gave you his full attention.
"Is there something I can help you with, Angel?" His smooth voice never failed to make your heart flutter, honeyed tone soft and tender, a sound reserved solely for you. Your fingers play with the cuff of his sleeve, a small pout on your lips, one you know he loves. "Can I sit with you? I missed you so much and I just want to be close to you for a while." The corners of Zayne's lips curl up into a soft smile, and you knew he'd give you whatever you wanted, after all Zayne could never say no to you. You were his weakness.
An amused chuckle left Zayne's lips as he swivelled his chair to face you, one hand holding yours whilst the other tapped his thigh, inviting you into his lap. "How can I refuse when you asked so nicely. Come on then, take a seat, Angel." He gently pulled you closer, helping you to straddle his lap, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest as he watches you bury your face in his chest, breathing in his familiar scent. "Now be good for me, I'm almost finished with these reports. Then we can go watch a movie together." He gives a light squeeze to the plush of your hips before his hands leave you, picking up his pen and resuming his work.
You want to be good for him, you really do try, but your mind begins to wander. There's something about being surrounded by him, his scent overwhelming your senses, the steady rhythm of his heart, his muscular thighs below you, it ignites a fire deep within you, and with every passing second you can feel the growing ache in your core.
You start small at first, squirming slightly in his lap, little wiggles that you play off as "just trying to get comfy". And for a while it's enough, but soon the throbbing in your cunt gets stronger, your clit begging for more friction, something to relieve the pressure building up in your lower stomach. You give an experimental rock of your hips, freezing to wait for Zayne's reaction. When he doesn't respond you do it again, setting a steady rhythm as you grind down on his lap. The zipper on the front of his slacks rubs perfectly against your sensitive clit, the pleasure increasing with every roll of your hips, head burying further into the crook of Zayne's neck, his masculine scent filling your nose, pushing you even closer to your orgasm that is building steadily. Your pussy is dripping now, soaking your panties, your empty hole flutters and pulses as you continue grinding in Zayne's lap, too lost in pleasure to register the tiny whimpers leaving your mouth, forgetting all about subtly as your minds only focus is on your orgasm that is fast approaching. Speeding up your movement, hips pressing down harder into his, a breathy moan of his name falls from your lips as you're about to reach your peak. Just as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge, two strong, cold hands firmly grab your hips, halting your movement completely. You whine desperately at the loss of your orgasm, hips frantically chasing more of that delicious friction that would have your cunt gushing into your panties, but it's useless. Zayne's vice-like grip prevents any of your movements, cold fingers bruising as they dig into the soft flesh of your hips.
"Did you really think I would let you finish like that, Angel?" Zayne whispered lowly in your ear, dark tone sending a shiver down your spine. "I thought I told you to be good, but it seems my girl was just too desperate to wait." You let out a pathetic mewl as Zayne presses you further into his lap, only now noticing the large bulge that has formed in his pants, his cock hard and begging for relief as it grinds against your clothed pussy. "You wanted my attention, Angel? Well you've got it. And I'm going to spend the rest of tonight teaching you what happens to bad girls who don't do as their told." He chuckles darkly, hips rutting up into yours, mercilessly guiding your sensitive cunt along the length of his confined cock. "And I'm not going to stop until you're a begging, whimpering mess."
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