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#i never had consoles growing up
electricea · 5 months
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also yet another series i'm long long behind on, but thinking of finally checking out kingdom hearts! honestly looks like a fun series.
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theladyofbloodshed · 1 year
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Cannot tell you how superior I feel when my boyfriend can’t do a part on his game and passes it to me
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browniefox · 2 months
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For the first time in my some-odd years on this earth,
I have bought a console that is not Nintendo
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arielluva · 3 months
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the cd burner i ordered arrives tomorrow!!! (technically today) ooh ill finally to burn a cd!!! my parents always did it for me but now i finally can yippee
my utena cds reawakened my love for cds after like 3 years of barely using them... it feels like im returning home from the war (spotify) to my beautiful wife (physical media)
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Note
You want asks? Fine!
Your three favourite Pokemon! Mine are Helioptile (It fit so perfectly and then I did jokingly one of those: take your birthday and see what pokemon types you are-memes and it is the only electro/normal one, like gosh darn! It is fate!), Larvitar-line (stinky! chonky!), Archen (It is just so cute. It is baby!)
😔 I’ve never played Pokémon
But! I do like oshawott (otter puby), arcanine, and relicanth!
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fozmeadows · 6 months
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the older I get, the more the technological changes I've lived through as a millennial feel bizarre to me. we had computers in my primary school classroom; I first learned to type on a typewriter. I had a cellphone as a teenager, but still needed a physical train timetable. my parents listened to LP records when I was growing up; meanwhile, my childhood cassette tape collection became a CD collection, until I started downloading mp3s on kazaa over our 56k modem internet connection to play in winamp on my desktop computer, and now my laptop doesn't even have a disc tray. I used to save my word documents on floppy discs. I grew up using the rotary phone at my grandparents' house and our wall-connected landline; my mother's first cellphone was so big, we called it The Brick. I once took my desktop computer - monitor, tower and all - on the train to attend a LAN party at a friend's house where we had to connect to the internet with physical cables to play together, and where one friend's massive CRT monitor wouldn't fit on any available table. as kids, we used to make concertina caterpillars in class with the punctured and perforated paper strips that were left over whenever anything was printed on the room's dot matrix printer, which was outdated by the time I was in high school. VHS tapes became DVDs, and you could still rent both at the local video store when I was first married, but those shops all died out within the next six years. my facebook account predates the iphone camera - I used to carry around a separate digital camera and manually upload photos to the computer in order to post them; there are rolls of undeveloped film from my childhood still in envelopes from the chemist's in my childhood photo albums. I have a photo album from my wedding, but no physical albums of my child; by then, we were all posting online, and now that's a decade's worth of pictures I'd have to sort through manually in order to create one. there are video games I tell my son about but can't ever show him because the consoles they used to run on are all obsolete and the games were never remastered for the new ones that don't have the requisite backwards compatibility. I used to have a walkman for car trips as a kid; then I had a discman and a plastic hardshell case of CDs to carry around as a teenager; later, a friend gave my husband and I engraved matching ipods as a wedding present, and we used them both until they stopped working; now they're obsolete. today I texted my mother, who was born in 1950, a tiktok upload of an instructional video for girls from 1956 on how to look after their hair and nails and fold their clothes. my father was born four years after the invention of colour televison; he worked in radio and print journalism, and in the years before his health declined, even though he logically understood that newspapers existed online, he would clip out articles from the physical paper, put them in an envelope and mail them to me overseas if he wanted me to read them. and now I hold the world in a glass-faced rectangle, and I have access to everything and ownership of nothing, and everything I write online can potentially be wiped out at the drop of a hat by the ego of an idiot manchild billionaire. as a child, I wore a watch, but like most of my generation, I stopped when cellphones started telling us the time and they became redundant. now, my son wears a smartwatch so we can call him home from playing in the neighbourhood park, and there's a tanline on his wrist ike the one I haven't had since the age of fifteen. and I wonder: what will 2030 look like?
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foldingfittedsheets · 1 month
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Not to be self congratulatory but a classmate was doing a study for one of his game design classes and asked if I’d be one of his participants. I like him so I said yes and he had me do a questionnaire and then set me up in front of Street Fighter.
He had me with set parameters and told me to just fight it out so I did. I watched his eyebrows go up when I finished but he couldn’t comment until the end.
He asked if I played Street Fighter regularly and I said no. I told him I played stuff like Bloody Roar, Guilty Gear, Mortal Kombat and Smash Bros growing up socially, but it’s never been my genre.
He asked if I would be more interested to play Street Fighter after this test and I said no.
He started quietly laughing when I finished all the questions and I said, “What? Did I do poorly?”
“No. You finished the fastest out of anyone I’ve tested. You’re also the oldest and have the least interest in this genre of game, it’s just really funny.”
I told him my best friend growing up had consoles but I didn’t. He got to play and practice regularly so he tended to be better than me as a baseline. But. If I won he’d get so furious that he’d turn the console off and we could do what I wanted instead, so I developed an aggressive button mashing technique that has served me well.
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luviestarz · 7 months
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lee haechan fic recs!
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❤︎ I LIKE YOU (I DO) (L.DH) - @domjaehyun (stoner!haechan just wants you to know how much he likes you.)
❤︎ paperclip - @smileysuh (yandere, ex bf! hyuck)
❤︎ My Boy. - @prodbymaui (A series of failed relationships and you were this near of giving up on love. But then here comes little Donghyuck and his persistence. Maybe-- he was the one fated to you, after all.)
❤︎ kiss it better - @yeow6n (haechan gets hurt but you know that with him it’s not going to be as simple as putting a band-aid on it)
❤︎ sugar, butter, & the royal crown - L.DH - @haechwrites (prince donghyuck only has one princess on his mind, but she's not actually a princess. she's just the royal baker's granddaughter.)
❤︎ bus stop - @ooshu (haechan rides the bus. you hop on the same ride. minutes later, you two were a couple. he never questioned why.)
❤︎ strawberries & cigarettes - @hyudior (the art school's play is in two days and you're running out of time to put everything together since your known enemy lee donghyuck decided that the rehearsal day was the perfect day to release a launch party for his new album.)
❤︎ >> take my breath - @hyuckwrlds
❤︎ moles ♡‧₊˚ lee haechan - @sleeping-sirens (you read something on the internet that made you feel jealous of a person you didn’t even know but haechan knows just how to reassure you.)
❤︎ haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby - @hyuckmov (he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flicking his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggle up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.)
❤︎ eyes tell - @tonicandjins (donghyuck has been trying to confess his feelings to you. third time's the charm, he thinks.)
❤︎ going below zero | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (Considering how much Haechan makes it his personal mission to antagonize you at work, it seems like a rather cruel twist of fate that the both of you have been side by side since middle school, the only consolation being that his office is a different floor from yours. But if there’s a saying about how distance makes the heart grow fonder, your attitude with him might just be the opposite, and it’ll take a family ski holiday to find out.)
❤︎ take my breath. - @sixzeroes (lee donghyuck did not believe in ‘love at first sight.’ key word: did. he does now, but only because you happened to fall into his arms on the icy road in the narrow streets. you’re going to render him breathless from the countless times your smile takes his breath away.)
❤︎ ice cream thief [ l.dh ] - @tddyhyck (someone has been eating haechan's favorite ice cream so he decides to put a hidden camera in the kitchen and living room thinking it's a shared space it shouldn't invade anyone's privacy... right?)
❤︎ tease | lee haechan - @hyuckiefluff (Playing spin the bottle definitely wasn't what you had envisioned for your first college party. And the last person you expected to see was Lee Haechan. But life has a funny way of throwing surprises at you, and this time it came in the form of the bottle landing on some drunk dude who dared you to kiss Haechan.)
❤︎ 𝟏𝟎 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 ¹⁸⁺ - @goldyeokki (you and lee donghyuck both get along like oil and water. if it were up to you, you would be going about your days without even breathing in his direction. unfortunately you're in the same friend group and you have to tolerate each other. as handsome or attractive as people claim him to be, you hate his guts. there's so many reasons why you hate him, so why do you get butterflies in your stomach when he's near?)
❤︎ high (with my lover) [m] – l.dh - @yeonghosins (y/n smokes up with donghyuck for the first time)
❤︎ what the puck! - @choerrypuffs (you hit the university’s star hockey player with your car. shenanigans (and maybe even a little romance) ensue.)
❤︎ double take | l.dh - @cherryeoniis (friends to lovers, highschool au, slowburn, fluff, angst)
❤︎ Your Red Lipstick || L.DH - @ihaechans (Kisses, kisses, kisses. That’s all your boyfriend wants. When you refuse to give him the one thing he craves, he won’t leave you alone, begging and begging until you give in.)
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gxthicwxrm · 1 year
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My Bad, Man.
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Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem Reader
Summary: being needy for JJ while he plays video games with Pope and John B.
Warnings: implied smut, cockwarming, mild dirty talk, implied/mentions of dom!jj and sub!reader at the end
Word Count: 703 words
This is my first OBX/JJ fic. Let me know if y'all want more for the show or this character, requests are open!!! Send them in, pls. Enjoy!!
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“Dude! Get the fucking zombie. Don’t let it kill you! POPE! That’s it. I’m not reviving you.” You hear JJ, from the living room, scream into his mic on his headset as he jams the buttons on his controller. Rubbing the towel over your legs, you finish drying your body off and grab your underwear from the bed when an idea arises. With a smirk, you drop the material back into your underwear drawer before grabbing JJ’s shirt and draping it over your torso, then walk past his spot on the couch, making your way to the kitchen. The fabric meets near your mid-thigh, barely covering your bottom as you reach for the cup from the top shelf. 
“Guys! I’ve got this generator. Protect the others!” JJ demands, focused solely on the game before him, not noticing you moving about the kitchen. Filling your glass, you walk over to JJ and sit down the glass of sweet tea on the coaster before him. The sound of the glass finally gathers J’s attention as his gaze turns to you, a sweet smile painted on his face when he notices his shirt.
“You always wear them better than me.” He says, covering his mic before he gestures for you to come to him. Leaning down, you capture his lips when you feel his hands slide past your hips to grip your ass before smacking your skin. Feeling your naked skin leads his hands to wander lower as you let his tongue invades your lips. A growl erupts from the blonde under you as he grabs your thighs and pulls you to straddle him. 
“No panties? My needy girl.” He whispers against your lips as he adjusts himself, so his growing bulge rubs against your core, earning a moan from you before his hand snakes up your chest and then grip your neck, making you grind against him harder, only the thin fabric of his boxers between the two of you. As JJ leans back and starts pulling down his boxers, Pope screams through the mic reminding JJ of the game. Neither of you realized his controller had fallen to the carpet when you straddled him, causing his character in the game to no longer to protect what he was supposed to. 
“JJ Maybank! Protect the damn generator!” Pope's yells are muffled but clear as you smirk at your boyfriend, who gives you a knowing look. With a nod, he removed his boxers before you gave him his controller and let him wrap his arms around your waist as he lowered you onto his cock. Biting your lip, you close your eyes as you try to focus on the feeling of him stretching you, then lay your head on JJ’s shoulder, peppering kisses along his jawline.
“Damn, you’re so perfect. You take me so well, baby.” JJ groans as you shift to wrap your legs around his waist, driving him deeper and making you bury your face in his neck. JJ allows you time to adjust before pulling the mic back to his face.
“Shit, I’m sorry, guys. I spilled my drink and had to get a towel. My bad, man.” JJ attempts to convince them.
“Yeah. Sure. I bet you were making out with Y/N.” You could practically hear John B’s smirk through the microphone. JJ laughs, causing his hips to move, making an unexpeave your lips.
“Oh, my god! Are they fucking right now? What the fuck?” Pope' had to move the left side of his headphone, making you able to hear them better as well. 
“What? No! Never.” JJ’s holding you to him as he giggles uncontrollably.
“I’m done. You all are gross.” John B and Pope say in unison, making you and JJ laugh harder.  Once both of your friends leave the game, JJ turns off the console before tossing the controller to the other side of the couch. 
“You ready, pretty girl?” JJ’s full attention is now on you, making you bashful as you feel yourself start to submit to him as his lustful eyes look over your body before stopping on your lips, his tongue wetting his own. 
“Yes, sir.”
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kgficz · 3 months
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Trust
Bucky Barnes x Reader, The Winter Soldier x Reader
Summary: Set during the end of ‘Captain America: The Winter Soldier’. You had been forced to work as a nurse for Hydra’s soldiers, you never expected The Winter Soldier to be one of them. What happens when he starts to care about you?
Word Count: 1.3k
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Soldiers gripped your arm tightly, dragging you through the corridor and into an open room. Your eyes immediately found Bucky sitting back in the chair in the middle; guards standing all around him with their weapons drawn. His eyes followed you as you were pulled in.
The soldiers pushed you over to Pierce and held you still as you struggled, attempting to break free from them grasp.
“He’s not listening to us.” Pierce says firmly before looming over you, his breath grazing your cheeks.
“I know you two have… a connection” he says with a scowl. “Get him to listen to us, or.. watch me break him”
You let out a deep breath as your eyes darken. You glance over at Bucky to see his head facing down to the ground; you’d never seen him like this before. When Hydra forced you to work as a nurse for his soldiers, you’d never thought The Winter Soldier would be one of them.
“Get everyone out” you demand, wanting to be left alone with him. Pierce raises a hand and the soldiers let go of you before leaving the room.
“You too” you say to Pierce as you stare him down. You weren’t afraid to make it known how much you hated him. Pierce looked you over as he licked his bottom lip. “You have 10 minutes” he growled before storming out of the room.
Within seconds you’re moving over to the Bucky, crouching down in front of him in hopes to get his attention. His eyes flicker up to yours as he scans your face. His memory was wiped so often, he could barely recognise who you were.
“Are you alright..?” You asked softly, careful to not alarm him.
His eyes continued looking you over, taking in your features as he listened to your words; your voice growing familiar.
“What is it..?” You asked softly, almost whispering.
His chest rose and fell as he breathed in slowly.
“There was a man..” he said quietly “on the bridge. I knew him” he added before looking up at you.
Your chest ached as he spoke; Hydra had taken so much away from him. Although he was slipping through the cracks; you knew they would push him back into submission. You sighed as he finished speaking, wishing you could do more to help him.
“He called me.. Bucky” he continued as he looked into your eyes.
“That’s my name.. isn’t it?” He asks with a gentle tone. All you could do was nod in response; you’d seen enough of his file to know the basic details about him. About what Hydra had turned him into.
His head hung low, his mind racing with memories he could not understand. You wanted to reach out, to somehow console him. You couldn’t pull your eyes away from him; it pained you to see him like this. Your hand reached out to move the strands of hair from his face. His eyes were focused, watching you but not pulling away from your touch.
“They- they will keep hurting you” you say softly. You hated what Hydra had done; but who knew what would happen to him if he fought them back on this. “I don’t.. know how to help you” you added quietly, your eyes falling to the floor as they grew teary.
Bucky’s eyes followed your movement, almost as though he was studying you. He couldn’t understand your care for him. He couldn’t remember the last time anyone did care for him.
Pierce and his men burst through the door, rushing over to you. His men pulled you up from the ground, their hands gripping your arms tightly causing you to wince in pain. Bucky’s eyes were glued on you as he fought the urge to stand up.
Pierce pressed a gun to your head as his eyes stayed on Bucky.
“Are you ready to comply?” He said, cocking his head as he finished speaking.
Bucky took in a deep breath and nodded before two soldiers pushed him back into his seat. The soldier on you pulled you out of the room; the last thing you heard were Bucky’s pained screams.
-
Your eyes were glued to the TV, watching it all unfold. Watching Hydra finally being exposed. You couldn’t believe it. The news had reported signs of “The Winter Soldier” and “Captain America” involved. Watching all the explosions on the screen caused you to cry. You knew he must be dead.
As the hours passed, you finally managed to leave your apartment. You needed to get some food and clear your mind. You’d clearly just lost your forced job for Hydra.. but what the hell were you supposed to do now.
When you returned to your apartment, you opened the door and reached for the light with one hand whilst you held a bag of food in the other.
A figure stood in the corner of the lounge causing your heart to feel as though it had stopped in your chest. You let out a gasp before stepping back against the door. You squinted your eyes as your vision began to focus.
“Bucky…” you whispered as you stepped forward.
“Don’t” he replied quickly. “Don’t get too close” he added.
You stopped in your tracks and your heart pounded in your chest. Your eyes scanned his features. His face had been wounded from what you could see. You couldn’t believe he survived.
“You’re hurt..” you say quietly, trying to make him feel comfortable as you spoke.
“I’m fine” he answers quickly.
You place the food down on the table in front of you, moving slowly. You watch each other carefully.
“Would you like something to eat?” You offer with a soft smile, trying your best to break the tension. You can see him contemplating, his mind appears to be racing. His eyes are scanning your features, as though he is unsure if he can trust you.
Eventually, he nods and steps forward. You place a container of food down in front of him; he eats slowly and carefully. You can’t help but watch him, wondering when was the last time he ate a genuine meal. When the two of you finished eating, he stood back again.
“Can I see your wound..? Please” you asked gently, referring to the cut on his cheekbone.
His eyes looked down to the ground as you finished speaking. After a few seconds he gave you a small nod; putting his trust in you. You quickly grabbed some supplies and pulled a stool out for him. You ask him to sit and he did.
As you cleaned up his wound, his eyes followed you; focusing on your movements. He was analysing you, dissecting you. You could see the confusion in his eyes as you worked carefully; gently. ‘When was the last time someone treated him with genuine care?’ You thought to yourself.
Eventually you stepped back, looking over his face. “That should do it” you said with a gentle smile as he locked eyes with you. His lips parted as though he wanted to speak but he soon shut them.
“If you want, you can use my shower?” You began to say. “I don’t exactly have anything.. your size. But I could get some” you add with a soft chuckle.
His eyes darted back and forth, debating on his next move. He didn’t truly know why he had come here in the first place.
He nodded again, accepting your offer.
You smiled at him; he noticed the way your eyes sparkled from the overhead light. You walked him over to the bathroom, showing him where everything was.
“Take as long as you need” you said quietly. He turned back towards you, looming over you and yet you knew he was no threat.
He shut the door behind him, leaving you out in the hall. He could not understand what was happening; all these memories were coming back to haunt him. For now, he at least knew that he could trust you. That you would not hurt him. He would hold onto that thought, and get through the night.
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thatsdemko · 3 months
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don’t go - c.leclerc
masterlist | pairing: Charles Leclerc x gasly!reader
summary: a bad date leads you to a certain asshole in your brothers living room…
warnings: NOT intended for minors(18+) + oral (m receiving) + angst + slightly unedited (potential grammatical errors)
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it didn’t have to be so hard to have one successful date, but somehow in the country of Monaco, it was damn near impossible without having to hear some sort of brag about fancy cars and formula one drivers. which funny enough, all of that is what you wanted an escape from. having a brother in the Motorsport meant your whole life revolved around it, and all you wanted was evening where you didn’t have to talk about cars.
“I’m so sorry,” kika softly mutters, her fingers dragging through your hair as you lay your head in her lap, “he sounds like such an asshole.”
you sit up from her lap, taking in the three who sat and listened to your horrific date night: Pierre, your brother—who looks about ready to beat someone up—, kika, who instantly wrapped her arms around you when your stormed in, and Charles. the Ferrari driver who sat silently listening.
“he wasn’t though. he just didn’t need to bring up max verstappen.” you say, the name feeling foreign against your lips. looking across the room, you lock eyes with Charles who shifts rather uncomfortably in his seat, “maybe dating in Monaco is a bad idea.” he suggests.
Pierre barks out a laugh, “and what? just move solely for the men? that’s ridiculous.”
Charles replies with the shrug of his shoulders, “Monaco is all about cars and racing drivers. I’m sorry, y/n, you should expect that.”
“what you should expect is not everyone to want to be involved in this silly little sport, Charles. Monaco doesn’t have to always be about cars and your sport.” kika huffs out rather annoyed at how the conversation has shifted. you would be too, if you weren’t already annoyed about other things— ie: your date.
“he’s being overly dramatic, y/n,” Pierre hisses, his eyes volleying back and forth between his friend and you, “ignore him.”
Charles rolls his eyes mumbling words under his breath no one can make out. the conversation shifted back to you, your brother and his girlfriend consoling you while Charles sits in the corner bored. he’d come over due to Pierre’s invite for dinner, but what he didn’t expect to see was you.
for months you and Charles snuck around sleeping together until one day Charles started publicly dating. you were heartbroken, truly, but you could never show or say why and who had done it to you. the evidence was right under their noses, they just never took the time to look.
“I’m not being overly dramatic,” Charles says rolling his eyes, “I’m being reasonable. I’m sure there are men in Milan for you.”
“what’s up your ass today? seriously, just because she broke up with you doesn’t mean you have to take it out on y/n.”
a smile threatens to tug against your lips. it takes everything in you to turn away from Charles so he doesn’t see your reaction, but he can tell by the crinkles by your eyes. you’re finding this humorous.
“I didn’t come here to get chewed out.”
“well neither did I.” you turn your head back in his direction, eyes sinking in on him, he finds himself back in the uncomfortable gaze.
he hates how intense and blue your eyes get when you narrow in on someone. those ocean blue eyes you have carry a heavy amount of emotion without even having to bat an eyelash.
“let’s just have some more wine.” kika offers rising up off the couch and breaking the growing tension in the room.
“that sounds fine to me.”
the night air of Monaco whips your hair around off your shoulders. standing outside, you needed air from Charles and the tension, but it’s seemed to follow you despite your attempts.
“you know, I didn’t mean to behave the way I did,” he starts, closing the gap between you two, standing beside you, “you should be allowed to date someone who knows nothing about max verstappen or even me.”
“but you’re right,” you say. shifting your gaze from the cars that drive the twist and turns of Monaco, you look up at him and into his chocolate brown eyes, “I should expect that here. Monaco is full of drivers and driver wannabes.”
he snorts replaying the words ‘driver wannabes’ in his head, he remembers the days where he was one of those wannabes. time flew for him, and looking at you is the indication of that for him sometimes. your beauty flourished with age, and only seemed to take his full attention more and more as you grew up, and he wished maybe you weren’t trying to avoid the racing scene because he knows you’d be a great couple.
“don’t move to Milan,” he says moving an inch closer, arms brushing against one another. the action is just enough to erupt butterflies in your stomach, “what would I do without you here?” his face inches closer to yours, and he doesn’t realize he’s doing it but his eyes close and his lips softly land agains yours.
pulling away, you wrap your fingers around the curls in his hair and pull him closer to your body, “tell me, what would you do?” you ask, fingers trailing down the length of his body before undoing the button of his jeans, “would you be doing this?” you yank the zipper, take your fingers against the waistband and sink down to the cement while pulling his jeans to his ankles.
“n-no.” he hesitates, eyes flickering over the light inside the apartment for a brief second, but his thoughts vanish feeling your fingers gently graze his cock.
“fuck, y/n.” he whimpers and it’s pathetic but boosts your ego as your lips wrap around his tip.
his body shivers, knees stiff in place feeling your tongue swivel, lips suck him, and teeth gnaw him. how could he ever have thought someone else could do this to him? how could he ever imagine another woman when you’re on your brothers balcony sucking him off.
your nails dug deep into the skin of his hips, you feel him buckle, hips jutting outward. you can’t hear much of him, ears too red at the tips you only hear the sound of the blood rushing, but you know Charles. you know his weakness is you on your knees in front of him.
coming was quick— as he hadn’t been touched in ages like that— it was almost embarrassing for him, but you don’t mind. dusting yourself off, you take the glass of red wine that was sitting on the ledge of the balcony and watch Charles collect himself back to normal, “maybe I won’t go. you’ll miss me too much.” you press a kiss to his cheek before heading inside to find a movie playing.
“what are we watching?” you ask sinking into the cushion beside your big brother.
Charles rejoins, taking a seat beside kika, far enough distance between you. if that was how you were going to play him, like nothing happened, he could do that too.
tags: @monzabee @lovelytsunoda @burberryfilms @imsorare @leclerc13 @smoothopz @lunnnix (sorry I didn’t tag everyone if you want to be tagged in future posts please let me know!)
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noisy-weasel · 2 years
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Man I really wish it was easier to download the non-English versions of games. I'd love to play project sekai on jp servers but my phones so fuckin old I don't wanna risk downloading any third party launcher on it and honestly idgaf just let me download it from the actual AppStore who give a shit
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ceilidho · 5 months
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landscape with honey
summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader
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He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 
You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.
You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.
The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 
He pays for the whole order.
You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 
John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 
John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 
The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.
“Hi Jo—” you start.
“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 
“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”
“Get in the car.”
“This is my only time to exercise!”
“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”
You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 
He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.
“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”
“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 
You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”
“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 
"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."
John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."
The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 
“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.
“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 
“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 
You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 
The first week of December hits town like a truck. 
You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.
It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 
A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 
The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 
You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.
It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 
You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.
You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 
When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 
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You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 
It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.
Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.
A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.
“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 
Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.
Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.
“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”
He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 
“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 
Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 
Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 
“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 
The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.
“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”
“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.
He hums instead of answering. 
“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 
His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 
“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”
“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 
“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”
“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 
Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 
“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”
He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 
When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”
He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 
You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 
His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”
You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”
“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”
“The winter?”
“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”
“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”
Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 
He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.
“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”
“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 
He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”
You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 
“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 
“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”
Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 
You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 
Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 
You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 
There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 
“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 
“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”
“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”
It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 
Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 
He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.
You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 
When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 
“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.
Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”
2K notes · View notes
m0llygunn · 8 months
Note
boyfriend!eddie and reader having sex in the back of his van whilst it’s raining 😫
Hi! Thank you for the request! I got a little carried away with the love-y, poetic-y stuff but theres still all that smutty stuff too!
18+ only, please!
wc: 3.2k
✿⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☁︎˚。⋆ ✿
It started slow then all at once. It was the kind of rain that warrants attention, the kind that demands you sit and watch. 
So that’s what you and Eddie had done. It was the safer option as well, to pull off the highway instead of pressing all the way home through the storm. Instead, you pressed through until you got to the old field just on the cusp of Hawkins that you two used to visit when you had first gotten together. 
It really was just a field. An old lot that you’re sure someone owns but hasn’t invested a lick of time into. Overgrown grass and a forested edge. Weeds and wildflowers weaved their way in and took claim to the land. The place is theirs but you and Eddie have been known to borrow it in the past. Not so much in the present. 
Just you, Eddie, and the wildflowers. 
It was where you first really hung out. In his van, doors propped open, letting the breeze in— it was where you got to know each other. It was home to the first time you held hands and the first time you shared a kiss. It was home to a lot of late nights where Hawkins seemed too overbearing and you both just needed to get away. 
In a sweet way, it was kind of like a home to where your love for each other sprouted. You and Eddie used to say that there were just as many wildflowers out in the field as there were kisses you’ve shared here. 
Beyond kisses, it was a place of innocence. 
When you and Eddie grew to that stage of your relationship, you spent more and more time in his room, growing more and more familiar with each other. Eventually, you stopped coming to the field. As time passed, the tire tracks in the grass faded and once again, the field was a place that only the wildflowers reigned. 
Today though— today, you pay the field a visit. 
Heavy rain on petals, dripping from their leaves like tear drops, you’re greeted by the weeping wildflowers, more abundantly spread on the land than you remembered. 
In the way the flowers appear to cry, it elicits a similar feeling inside you, like the swell of happy tears, born from being reunited with a lost friend. 
Eddie puts the van in park, reaching his hand back across the center console to squeeze your thigh. “We’ve got a lot of kisses to catch up on,” he says, meeting your gaze and nodding his head towards the plethora of brightly coloured speckles amongst the vast green. 
“Better get started then,” you laugh.
Like time had never passed, you and Eddie follow the same routine you used to. With a polite wave of his arm for you to go first and a gentle murmur of ‘ladies first’, you maneuver yourself to the back of the van with Eddie following suit. 
You both kick off your shoes and you take your seat, the place that Eddie has always set for you. He swings the back doors open, letting the mist of the rain and the dimmed rays from the clouded sky in. 
“Really raining, huh?” Eddie says as he settles next to you.
“Yeah, we needed it though. I would say the flowers needed it, but it looks like they’re doing just fine on their own,” you say fondly, scooting yourself to get a better view of the outside and coincidentally closer to Eddie. He does the same, shifting so he’s closer to you. 
He brings an arm over your shoulder, pulling you flush to his side.
“So, those kisses…” he says, grinning at you.
“Smooth, very smooth,” you smile, tilting your chin upwards to him as an invitation.
Eager as always, he wastes no time closing the distance between you two. 
Lips to lips, nose pressed against nose, he brings a hand to your jawline and he leans forward into you. Eager, very eager.
“Something tells me you want a little more than just kisses,” you laugh when he parts his lips from yours, trailing his pecks across your cheek and dipping them down to your neck. You practically feel his smirk against your skin.
“You know me so well,” he laughs softly, breath fanning over your skin. 
You run your hands down his chest, stopping at the hem of his shirt, tugging it upwards. He pulls away enough to help you remove it, flashing you a grin in the process. He’s not going to say it, but you both know he’s not the only one who wants a little more than just kisses.
His shirt thrown to the side, you run your fingers over his bare chest. The breeze coming in, and your gentle touch work in tandem to sprout goosebumps over his skin. He shivers, shaking his head gently, making you huff a soft laugh. He flashes you another smile, this time, hands grabbing to lift up your shirt.
“Let’s see how you like it,” he teases.
He pulls the cotton of your shirt up and over your head and before he has the chance to touch you, you already feel the crawl of goosebumps over your skin, as well as a light mist from the rain blowing in. Shivering immediately, Eddie laughs softly, but doesn’t hesitate to bring you close to him.
“Don’t worry, we’ll get you warmed up,” he teases, making you laugh. 
His arms snaking behind your back, a quick tug on the clasp on your bra has it coming undone. He guides you downwards, helping you lay back onto the carpeted and blanket covered floor. 
Both arms caging you in, he hovers over you, letting you still feel his radiating warmth, but leaving just enough space between you two to free you from your bra. His mouth spreads into a smirk as soon as your hardened nipples come into his view, already perked and pebbled from the chill. 
“S’cold,” you whisper.
“Poor baby,” he coos.
He dips his face down, placing kisses to your collar bones and slowly working his way down. His hands rub your sides in long languid motions, careful friction with the intention of warming you up. At the same time, he presses his body to yours, sharing all of his warmth. 
His kisses get lower and lower until he’s sucking harshly on your chest, each press of his mouth like a spark of warmth in your bloodstream. He’s doing a good job of keeping his promise to warm you up. 
His mouth connects to your nipple, the heat of his mouth like a sweet relief that encompasses your whole body, all the way down to your core. 
Your hands weave into his hair as his tongue swirls and sucks. When he switches sides, taking your other nipple into his mouth, you hardly have the mind to feel the way the dampness of your skin nearly frosts in the air. No, instead, your hips cant upwards, seeking relief elsewhere now. 
“Eddie,” you hum, tugging lightly at the roots of his hair.
He hums back with a raised inflection in his tone— asking you what you need without parting his mouth from you. You lift your hips again, the denim of your jeans meeting his lower belly with the way he’s positioned over you.
He removes his mouth from your chest with a wet ‘pop’ before looking up at you with a cute smile and contradictory dark eyes. 
“Feeling warmer?” he asks through his grin. 
“More,” you whisper pleadingly. 
His smile deepens, eyes dancing in amusement as he passes his hands down your sides a final time, pushing himself up and giving himself the space he needs to remove both of your remaining clothes. 
“You know,” he starts. His hands work at your pants, undoing them, while he spares you quick glances, a certain mischievousness lingering in each look your way. “They say if you ever meet somebody who might have hypothermia, you’re supposed to cuddle with them naked.” 
“Funny,” you huff quietly, trying to stop the way your lips demand to tug up. You lift your hips for him as he shimmies your jeans down your body. 
He meets your gaze once again with raised brows. “I’m serious, saw it on one of those survival shows,” he says as he throws your pants to the side. 
You match his gaze, raising your brows to mirror his. “Eddie, you’ve already got me down to my underwear, don’t think I need any more convincing,” you reply with nothing but adoration for him in your voice. He laughs, and you beckon him forward, sitting up just enough to reach his pants, tugging the belt undone. Eddie helps you with the rest, freeing himself from both his denim and boxers. 
“Hope nobody comes out here or they’re gonna see a whole lotta ass,” he says as he tosses his clothes next to yours. 
You bring your hands to the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down and Eddie quickly takes over, pulling them the rest of the way down your legs and adding them to the pile of clothes.
“Nobody comes out here,” 
“You’re only saying that ‘cause it’s not your ass on the line, it’s mine,” he laughs as he situates himself, guiding your knees outwards to make space for himself. His hardened cock demands your attention as it bobs in front of you, but you catch his gaze.
“They’d be lucky to see your ass,” you smile sweetly at him, knowing it’s the truth— that if someone did come out here, he’s the one in the direct line of sight, not you.
“Yeah, yeah,” he smiles back, rolling his eyes. You huff a laugh through your nose, pulling him closer to you, making kissy lips at him. He indulges you, leaning forward and sweeping you up in a kiss that he’s quick to deepen. 
With his body hovering over yours, he moves his forearm to rest on the floor under your shoulder to keep himself steady. His free hand snakes between the two of you, sliding along your lower belly until he reaches your mound. His fingers quickly breach your folds, gliding towards your already slicked hole. Groaning into the kiss, he gathers your wetness on his fingertips before moving back up to your clit. 
Slow circles on your sensitive button, your breath hitches. At the same time, your hips buck— your body's way of demanding more. 
The kiss becomes sloppy, wet, and full of your heavy pants. Eventually, you lose the capacity to move your lips against his as he continues his movements, speeding them up ever so slightly. Your chest rises and falls with your quickened breaths as he works you past just relief and well into the territory of explicit pleasure, heat blooming heavily in your lower belly. 
“Need you t-t—“ you stutter, your own ragged breath interrupting your speech. 
“Need me to what, baby?” Eddie asks, relishing in the way he has you worked up like this, nearly so far gone that you can hardly speak.
“Inside. You,” you moan, trying to gather your wits. “Please.”
“My girl wants to cum on my cock?” he says tauntingly, loving the sight of you like this. He speeds up his fingers and your hips stutter, the emptiness inside of you becoming too much to bear. 
“Please,”
“I don’t know if you’re ready for it. Think you’re warmed up enough?” he taunts again, keeping his unrelenting pace on your clit. 
“Mhm,” you hum in a strangled breath. “Please, Eddie.”
His movements on your clit stop and are replaced with the throb of need. Before your whined breath can carry up from your lungs, through your throat, and out your mouth, his cock is at your entrance pushing in, quickly bottoming out inside of you. He steals every ounce of your breath, pushing it from you in a heavy mewl, his own deep groan sounding in your ear as he leans in closer to you. 
“Fuck, how’s that feel, baby?” he asks.
You suck in a breath, whining softly, and he presses a kiss to your cheek. He hums, encouraging you to answer his question.
“Feels good, Eddie.” you moan.
“Yeah?”
“Always feels good.”
Eddie presses another kiss to your cheek, followed by a quick peck to your lips before shifting. Taking both your knees in his hands, he tilts your hips upwards giving himself better leverage. As he does, he cock perfectly pushes against your g spot, knocking you breathless once again. 
“Just like that, huh?” he rasps, watching you as you take steadying breaths, eyes already fluttering. You nod your head fervently, desperately needing him to move. 
Meeting his gaze, he smiles softly, knowing exactly what you need. 
Slowly but surely, he pulls his hips back from yours. Pushing back in, the head of his cock grazes that perfect spot again and you sigh contendently as your eyes flutter unrelentingly in your pleasure.
He finds a steady pace that has you moaning and mewling. Every stroke bringing you closer to the edge, the chilly breeze is a thing of the past. The way the rain patters against the van and the gentle sounds of the wind whispering through the air doesn’t breach your consciousness in the slightest. The only thing on your mind is Eddie— and when he brings his hand to your clit, continuing those pleasure filled little circles, your mind is reduced to nothing but a puddle of love for him and how he’s making you feel.  
“F-fuck, feels so good,” he stutters, picking up his pace. 
You feel the heat simmering in your belly and you know any second you're about to reach your peak. Grasping forward, you anchor yourself to Eddie with a desperate hand wrapping around his arm, clutching onto him with everything you have.
His breathing is ragged, grunts and groans decorating each thrust into you. Skin on skin, the sticky slapping and the wet obscenities with each pump give nature's sounds that echo through the field a run for their money. 
He picks up his speed on your clit, abruptly pushing you right over the edge. Your body tenses, pulses, and stutters under him, washing you over in the euphoria of your high. Eddie’s not far behind as he chases you into the waters of pleasure. 
With your hips jerking kinetically from his fingers on your clit, he relents his movements, pressing his hand to your hip, anchoring himself to you much as you had done to him. As his fingers press into your skin, his pace starts to become uneven. 
With a low groan, he thrusts deeply into you, his hips meeting yours completely. The depth of his reach and sudden contact on your sensitive clit has you jolting, adding a second wave to your dwindling orgasm. Your muscles tense harshly, fluttering around him, making him nearly whine as he comes undone. Drawing from you once again, he continues slow, shallow thrusts, working himself through his release. 
Your orgasm subsiding, you hum happily, still feeling the tingly remnants of pleasure in your body all the way from the tips of your fingers to the tips of your toes. Eddie collapses besides you, not going far at all, mere inches from being halfways on top of you. 
Reaching your hand over his back, you're met with his wet skin, more damp than just sweat, and you retract your touch out of surprise. 
“S’just rain,” he mumbles into your skin. You return your touch, gliding it down the expanse of his drenched skin. You use your hand to slick it off from him.
“Didn’t know you were getting rained on,” you say, shaking the water from your hand before settling it back down against his back, cuddling closer to him. 
“It’s only water,” he replies, lifting his head to see you, a grin pulled across his rosy face. 
You both lie like that for a while, sharing whispers and each other's company before separating enough to put yourselves back together. In the moment you hadn’t noticed just how much rain was blowing in through the open doors. Only after the fact did you realize the way the carpet was heavily dotted with wet drops and how both yours and Eddie’s legs were coated in a misted dew. Eddie got the brunt of the rain, his whole backside dripping wet. 
You helped him dry off, giving him kisses for his sacrifice despite him telling you it was well worth it. Once you were both redressed, you wrapped the two of you in one of the fuzzy blankets you keep back here. 
“Why’d we stop coming here?” Eddie asks, pulling you in tighter to his side. 
Tilting your face up towards him, you raise your brows as you meet his gaze. “Because you started only bringing me to your bed,” you reply, hiding your smile by pursing your lips. He laughs, face lights up with amusement, a deep smirk spreading across his face because he knows you’re right. 
“Well, this was fucking amazing, I think we should do this more often,” he jest, pinching at your side. You squirm but he rubs his hand over the affected area, soothing the pinch and the tickles away.
With a warning raise of your brows, despite your unwavering smile, he takes the hint, placing a quick kiss to your cheek like a sugar coated apology. 
You agree with him, you should come back here more often, but you don’t indulge him in that information just yet. Instead you redirect your gaze over the kingdom of wildflowers in front of you. 
The rain, slowing to a drizzle, your eyes reap over the field, taking in the small details you used to be so well acquainted with. It’s both nostalgic and bittersweet. It’s the same place you once knew, yet, at the same time, it’s entirely different. 
It’s a tender wash of feelings. The field flourished without you. Similarly, you and Eddie flourished without the field. It was a funny thing to come back like this— like both you and Eddie, and the field greeted each other so dearly, with heavy rain drops that felt like tears, only to show off the ways in which you’ve both grown since you’ve been apart. 
Growing is a part of life, as it is a part of love, both of which you’ve become familiar with ever since you met Eddie. Before, you thought love was supposed to be fiery crimson and vibrant magenta, heavily embellished with love hearts and fireworks. As time has gone on, you’ve grown to understand that love has shades. Love can be vivid and flashy and extravagant, but it can also be the simple things. 
Right now, love is an overgrown field, hued blue from the overcast sky, with green grass sprinkled in pink, orange, yellow, and red confetti. Love is rosy cheeks and rain misted skin. Love is simple, natural. Love is you, Eddie, and the wildflowers. 
✿⋆。˚ ☁︎ ˚。⋆。˚☁︎˚。⋆ ✿
Thank you! hope you like it <3
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xo-cod · 6 months
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forgive the inaccuracies, idk much about babies <3 ooc/rushed :)
simon w his baby but she has a preference for one parent and it's not him
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simon finally coming back to his safe place, his sanctuary, his home, all but eager to spend some needed time with his family. be had been off to a mission, the last one for a while to make sure that everything was okay. he had already been incredibly reluctant to leave you but now that you both had a baby, it was hard. not a second was spent on the field where images of the pair of you blazed through his mind, almost nearly costing his arm and leg in the process of being too distracted. it had been hell to say the least
but the day finally came, there he was finally on his way back after an intense gruelling month. simon saw you first, bundling you up close in his built arms enjoying your little chuckles that fell from your lips. removing his balaclava as he peppers tender kisses across your cheeks before your lips, his soft smile growing at how happy he was to be back. before he set you back down, eyes scouring about for his bundle of pure joy
"where is she, lovie?? i missed her so much, i got her a little trinket from the place we were deployed in, hope she likes it" he chuckled softly, opening one of his pockets to reveal the gift as he catches his baby on the carpet playing with toys babbling away. his heart was practically bursting at its seams, shedding away his utility vest and his gear to make sure nothing could hurt her before he gently padded his way over. he had different ways the evening would pan out but he hadn't expected this.
he didn't ever expect to be met with a blank stare in return
his heart dropped when he picked his little girl up, she was too busy playing with her favourite toys to even react to him. he hadn't anticipated her looking at him like a stranger. he could've cried with the way she wriggled out of his grasp and wanting to be let down as if he was some enemy. as if instead of being the protector he was now the very thing he swore to keep away from his child, a stranger.
his face like a kicked puppy when he looked at you with pure shock and pain, looking back at the baby who was eagerly crawling back to you having wanting nothing to do with him despite him trying to come closer. you could see all the happiness he previously had practically disappeared from his body, his shoulders deflating with sadness and pain
she couldn't recognise him, she was no longer a daddy's girl
"honey.... sweetheart, it's me, dad. daddy's here. c'mon, c'mere munchkin" he tried to chuckle, kneeling down opening his muscular arms only for her to blink at him and then look back at her toys again
"lovie.... what's going on?" his voice is so soft with hurt and shock looking back to you with huge shining eyes as if he had encountered the worst loss till date. suddenly the mission he had just been on was nothing, the weight of his child preferring you over him was crushing his heart into pieces he didn't think he would come back from. how he'd do any mission 10x over if it meant his child, his treasure would love him again
•••
and it remained that way for the next week, he tried his utmost best but it never seemed to be good enough for her. you tried to console him but he remained dejected, she was always wanting to run back to you. to be comforted by you and to be held by you. every time he tried to tuck her in, his efforts simply proved fruitless. she would cry and cry until you came back in and he watched from the side never feeling like he had failed so hard before in his life.
it hurt more than any of the superficial wounds he ever managed to get in battle, it hurt more than him being on his literal deathbed all those times he was caught in the cross fire. and it only propelled him further into despair when he made the mistake of googling it and realising that this phase may very well last years.
you could see him break with everyday, doubting himself as a father and as a husband. blaming himself and letting the doubt plague his heart and mind. it seemed nothing could comfort him apart from his baby that wanted nothing to do with him. he hadn't managed to hug her at all, he missed being able to snuggle her soft skin for hours. lounging around the home with her cuddled up in one arm as the other gently rubbed on the back of her head soothingly holding her close to his heart. and the thought of never being able to cuddle her without the cries that accompanied it was more than he could bear, it hurt more than anything he had gone through
that was until one night, he was tiredly going to the bathroom and pausing over the nursery. he hadn't meant to but he peeked in and saw her laying in her crib half asleep. her eyes big and brown exactly like his, blinking up slowly at the lieutenant. she was quiet apart from the small sounds she made sucking on the pacifier, a soft bunny in her hand as she peeked back at her father.
"hey baby...." he whispered so softly, he didn't even think she had heard. but her head tilted in curiosity and he chuckled, his hands coming to rest on the walls of the crib. desperately aching to feel her soft skin but too nervous to agitate her
"it's me honey, your dad. i really.... really miss you" he broke off, his heart feeling so heavy as the guilt came barreling in once more. it was his fault that he left her for a month, he shouldn't have been so surprised when he came back and preferred you. you had been there when he couldn't, she developed an attachment with you, not with him
"i'm so sorry to have left you for a month, honey. if i had known- if i thought for a second you'd hate me-" he didn't have the heart to finish the words, the guilt overriding his senses. with a soft sigh, his forehead leaned against his palm for a moment. his own baby didn't like him, he hadn't felt this low in a long time.
he promised he would never raise her in a volatile environment like he had grown up but already he hadn't been any better. he left her knowing for a month, coming back to see her favouring you. and it wasn't easy on both of you, he knew that. he knew he was being irrational but it stung more than any cut, the fact that if he hadn't made the choice to go on the mission that his baby wouldn't be acting so strangely around him.
simon didn't expect anything more tonight, too scared to touch her in case she started crying so he settled for placing the blanket back over her and heading off to bed with a heavy heart. what he didn't expect was the small coo coming from her lips, her tiny fist wrapping up over his index finger. his heart was in his throat, eyes wide at the sight as he looked back to her sweet innocent face again
"me?? you want me?" his voice was so gentle, too scared to speak loud as if this was all a beautiful dream he would wake up from. hesitantly he had reached down, his breath held as his large hands wrapped around his baby so delicately as if she'd shatter beneath his fingertips. slowly sitting down on the rocking chair, the moonlight pouting through the window illuminating her features.
how everyone around claimed she was a carbon copy, how proud he was to call her his daughter. all the moments that they shared running through his mind like a montage and she tilted her small head up at him, a gentle giggle falling from her lips before she rested her weary head against his warm chest. he could've cried and he did, gently but firmly holding her body between his hands. thanking whatever goodness he had done in his life that she was back, his baby was back. and she loved him just like before. she recognised him, she wanted him willingly. it was enough to break him out of whatever funk he had been in, trying desperately not to sob happy tears after a long gruelling two weeks.
you woke up the next morning to see simon laying on the rocking chair, one hand protectively over her small back while the other locked around her little legs as they both slept peacefully. his cheek leaning against her forehead as they cuddled up close on the rocking chair, both making the exact same sleeping face causing you to hide your growing smile and snap a little picture of the tender moment.
she truly was his little mini.
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norrizzandpia · 6 months
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She’s Missed You (OP81)
Summary: In which Nicole and Chris welcome Oscar’s longtime girlfriend to live with them after he leaves, only to not tell him and have to update him when he shows up for a surprise visit.
Warnings: i forgot if there’s language in this, i don’t think so but maybe? Sort of angst, reader really misses him, THE CUTEST LITTLE THINGS WITH OSCAR’S FAMILY (i would write a whole ass imagine about what it would be like if reader was super close to Oscar’s little sisters and took them out on mornings to get coffee and such if y’all would like that lmk)
Note: I KNOW IT’S NOT A REQUEST IM SORRY I WILL GET THROUGH THOSE BUT THERE IS MORE TO COME TN SO HOLD TIGHT
The feverish knocking on the Piastri’s door late at night had Chris clutching a baseball bat in his hands, stepping suspiciously toward the slab of wood. When he reached it, swinging it open and bracing for a manic person to jump out at him, he quickly realized that aggression was not the needed emotion.
Y/n stood with teary eyes, staring back at the man who had become her second father, and asked him quietly, hesitantly if she could come in. The bat was quickly shoved to the corner of the foyer, Chris’s hands coming to usher her in, wrapping around her shoulders.
“What’s wrong?” He asked. Nicole appeared from the hallway and gave him a quizzical look when she saw the way he was hugging their son’s girlfriend, the way he was consoling her.
Their hearts dropped when they heard her cry, “I miss Oscar.”
From that night on, Y/n slept in his room. With him being consistently away with F1, the parents had found out she was drowning in the amount of longing she held for her boyfriend, their son. They were accommodating and gentle to the girl they had known for years, even forcing her to call out of work for the first few days in order to settle in. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been over to their house, spending nights there with Oscar multiple times throughout the year before he had left to travel the world. It was just that she hadn’t been there alone. She hadn’t even shown up at their doorstep seeking a stay in his comforting four walls, but Nicole had insisted when she heard the way Y/n was dealing with the hard transition.
The parents were close to calling Oscar, but just when they decided they would, Y/n made them promise they wouldn’t. She had explained to them that if he knew how much she was struggling with his departure, he would come back and that would ruin his good streak with the season. So, the family kept quiet, dodging questions about her when they finally were able to get ahold of their son. His sisters, Chris, and Nicole were the only ones to hold the knowledge that Y/n was sleeping in her boyfriend’s bed. To be honest, they all secretly found it endearing how she would come back to their home after a long day at work, have dinner with the family, and retreat back to his room to smell him on his sheets and in the sweatshirts she stole from his closet.
The girls, his sisters, absolutely adored her being there, seeing as she would take them to Starbucks whenever she could, allowing for their bond to grow deeper. Their Saturdays were spent holing up in Y/n’s car to eat donuts and slurp down sugar coffee while watching stupid YouTube videos and grilling Y/n on embarrassing Oscar moments.
Nonetheless, as fun as it was, Y/n still felt a hole in her heart when she closed his door and came face to face with his empty bed. All she wanted was to see him, to feel him and his touch, yet she would have to settle for their few and far between FaceTimes.
It was so carefully crafted, the secret the family withheld from Oscar, that they were all so convinced he would never find out.
That was until his surprise visit.
Rapid knocking on their door for the second time in six months had Nicole and Chris at a loss for words. The raps being thrown against the entry to their house was powerful and held an urgency that was unmistakable.
“Can you get that, Nicole?” Chris asked her as he washed dishes from the dinner they had had earlier that night.
She nodded, traipsing over to the quickening pounds and opening the door. What met her was her smiling son with a large bouquet of flowers in his hands, a sight so dearly missed she almost fell into a puddle of tears.
“Oscar!” She exclaimed, jumping at her son and tackling him in the arms he had grown to seek comfort in.
At the mention of his son’s name and the sound of his wife's squealing, Chris peaked his head around the corner of their kitchen, catching a glimpse of the infamous brown hair. His smile was unwavering as he dropped the glasses with a loud clunk and ran over to the commotion at the front door.
“What are you doing here?!” He laughed as he wrapped his arms around his wife and son, a picturesque family.
Oscar’s muffled voice responded, “Thought I’d surprise you with the free time I have from the race being pushed back.”
The three of them disbanded, Nicole’s and Chris’s confused faces making him continue.
“Spa’s date was pushed back because of the storm they’re having right now. The race is scheduled for two weeks from now, but that could be pushed back as well because of the repairs they have to do. It hasn’t been publicized yet, that’s why you don’t know.”
At the new information, the story came together and his parents were nodding, bringing him into another hug after having not seen him for so long.
“I’ll be right back down, I’m just going to go drop off my bags in my room.” He murmured in their chests as they squeezed him tightly. The two were so excited to see him, they weren’t thinking about the girl that laid asleep in the very room their son was trying to get to.
He was halfway up the stairs when his mother yelled for him despite the rest of the house being asleep, “Oscar!”
He popped his head over the railing, “What?”
She walked to the end of the stairs, curling her finger at him, “I need you to come back down here.”
His head tilted, but he didn’t argue. His steps prodded at the rug underneath and when he reached his mother, she was ushering him to sit down on their couch.
“I need to tell you something before you go up there.” She eyed him seriously.
“Did you redecorate my room?” He deadpanned, looking at her with faux disappointment.
She shook her head, “No, Osc, baby, it’s about Y/n.”
At the mention of his girlfriend, Oscar’s demeanor changed.
“What’s wrong?” He asked, concerned.
She shook her head, Chris coming to join them on the plush cushions, “Nothing’s wrong with her physically. More mentally. She’s really missed you, Oscar.”
He nodded as if it was obvious, “I’ve missed her too. What does this have to do with my room?”
“She’s in there.” Nicole’s words struck him, but she didn’t allow for questions as she continued, “A few months ago, she showed up here and she was… she was just so tired, Oscar. She was crying and telling us how much she missed you, how happy she was that you had fulfilled your dreams, how proud of you she was, but how, at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear not seeing you. There was nothing to do, but try and comfort her which was a hard feat within itself. Understandably so, I came to the conclusion it would be beneficial if she stayed in your room for a while. Get it? She missed you and the only thing I could think would help her was staying in a place that smelled like you, felt like you were there. So, that’s how we ended up here. She’s been living with us for the past few months.”
By the end of it, Oscar was deeply confused for one particular reason, “Why didn’t you tell me?”
Chris sighed, seemingly signaling to his wife he would answer, “She didn’t want us to. Trust me, we tried, but she made us promise we wouldn’t. She didn’t want you to hear and then come back here in the middle of the season, jeopardizing how good you’re doing.”
He scoffed, “You still should’ve told me if she was struggling.”
Nicole landed her hand on his knee, rubbing softly, “Oscar, it was better to have her here and watch over her then drive her away by telling you. I would’ve loved to have both, but that wasn’t reality. Reality was that your father and I had to make a judgment call and we decided what was best. That was what was best. She’s gotten better. Sure, she still misses you, but, before, she was living all alone without anyone and I can only imagine how lonely she must’ve been. With her family moving away and everything, she really had no one to come home to when you had usually been there every time. We were able to give her that piece, so we did.”
Oscar’s mind calmed, realizing who he really needed to focus on, and he nodded at his parents.
“I understand, thank you.” He whispered, standing up and walking toward the stairs.
Nicole and Chris didn’t respond, instead watching as their son took two stairs at a time to get to his girlfriend faster.
When he was out of sight, his footsteps looming over them, Nicole whispered to her husband, “I can’t wait until they get married.”
His hand smoothed over the cool metal of his bedroom door, taking a moment to calm himself down before opening the door.
What he found was his lovely girlfriend asleep in his childhood bed, a sight that younger Oscar would go crazy for. The Australian shuffled in and closed the door lightly, placing his bags on the floor gently.
When he was ready, he tiptoed over to her side, sitting down and brushing his hand over her arm that stuck out from the comforter.
“My love, wake up.” He said softly, hand caressing up and across her cheekbone.
She stirred, deep in sleep, but settled back down after a few seconds. Oscar smiled warmly, leaning down and kissing her forehead, trailing down to plant a kiss on her cheek, and then meeting her lips lightly.
That seemed to wake her enough for her to realize someone else was in the room with her. Her eyes fluttered open and stared at Oscar for a second. He clocked the way she seemed to hesitate, wondering if it was really him. He wanted her to understand he was really here with her, so he kissed her once more, this time with more intention. His hand smoothed her hair back and when she began to kiss him back, hands falling onto his back, he pulled away.
“Hi, baby.” He said against her lips.
She didn’t say anything, mumbling something incoherent, before her eyes teared up. The shine of the tears falling down the side of her face had his hands coming to pull her up from her laid down position. He pulled their bodies upright, so he could suffocate her in the material of his hoodie and the lengths of his arms.
She cried into his chest, squeezing at his hips when he whispered how much he loved her, how much he missed her.
Oscar was tired from traveling and even though his eyes felt heavy, he still initiated the conversation he needed to have with her, “Why didn’t you tell me you were staying here? Why didn’t you tell me you were struggling?”
Her head stayed glued to the hardness of his body, “Because I’m not going to be the kind of girlfriend that can’t handle her boyfriend going away from time to time.”
“But, baby, it’s not from time to time. It’s every weekend. You’re entitled to struggle, I was struggling just as you were. If you don’t tell me what’s going on, I can’t help you and I can’t be the boyfriend I want to be for you.”
She nodded as she sniffled, “I guess, you’re right. I just don’t want you to think that you have to come back here every time you get a break. I want you to be able to travel and see what your job allows you to see. You’ve always loved to travel, I don’t want to be the reason you don’t pursue that to its fullest extent.”
“No, Y/n, I want to come back here every time I get a break. I know I love traveling, but I’m doing it so much now that when I do get time, I don’t want to spend it off somewhere foreign, I want to spend it with you.”
He took her silence as agreement, shifting the two of them in his arms so they could lie back down on his small bed.
In the darkness of the night, he watched her fall back asleep easily, wondering if that had been something she had had trouble with during their time apart like he did.
He was so enthralled with her finally being back in his arms, he didn’t realize how long he had been watching her sleep until the rising of the sun mocked him.
It was only when the commotion of his household began to erupt, Y/n waking up beside him and suggesting they sleep in a little longer, that he allowed himself to fall asleep right next to the girl who had missed him dearly.
The girl he had missed dearly.
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