#i’ll take this down if there’s a problem but there shouldn’t be since it’s public

[wandasfifthwife]

(3) locker room ✩‧₊˚ competing series

hockey coach!wanda x fem!ex figure skater reader

tw: SMUT MDNI, r has a v&breasts, top wanda, bottom r, service dom!wanda, r is a bit needy, wanda absolutely goes feral once given the green light, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), wanda uses the shower head on r, sort of public sex (locker room shower), cum kink if you squint

a/n: not proofread. THE SMUT IS HERE LMAO. I was a bit too excited to write and publish this, I’ll come back and edit later. Anyways enjoy this filth.

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It was all a performance. Every shy touch pushing the narrative, cultivating confident hand placements. The hand on your shoulder would find itself on your waist, pulling you towards her.

The first time she kissed you she was nervous, her hands holding you close but still at a distance. Every one since then has been pushing you down a dangerous path. They all made you want more, you wanted to fall over the edge with her.

The desire was growing each day. When she kissed you goodnight. When she placed a hand on your inner thigh. When she ran her eyes over your body. It made your legs weak.

Earlier in the day, just as the sun was rising she had been at your apartment. It was an easy Saturday morning, resting in each other with the tv in the background. Light touches almost hovering over each other.

You felt like you were floating, goosebumps lining your body as her fingers drew chills.

She paid you no mind, whether intentional or not she was stirring your emotions. Her eyes were focused on the screen, an occasional whispered compliment on whatever the house designing show had to showcase. It was infuriating almost. Her lips would sometimes touch your neck, a gentle touch here and there. She had strung you up and left you there when she had to leave for an appointment.

You laid where you once were, unsure of what to do until her contact showed up on your phone. She sounded out of breath as she asked you to come to the arena. You clambered into your car, almost speeding down the roads.

You didn’t give much of a hint as to where she was, last thing mention on the phone was that she was in the gym. The problem was that it was empty save for one man on the stair climber. You passed by without a care, feet wondering into where the ground turned into tiles.

There were a multitude of lockers aligning the wall, which were all off except for one. One had a small sign, the red light giving away that it was occupied as opposed to the surrounding green LEDs.

You called out her name, walking towards the showers and not thinking to check behind you. There were enclosed spaces, each separated by a wall. You walked to one, feeling bored so you pull at the level until the water came pouring down. It was in way better condition than you originally assumed.

Wet footprints sounded behind you, slight nerves picking up in fear it might be another woman besides the one you came looking for. They were eased when she came into view, a towel in her hand.

“You got here quick. I was going to try and shower before,” she emphasizes her words by lifting her towel up. Your eyes follow the movement and how it extends her muscles.

You feel your heart pick up, the feeling she had started before coming back to life. You point behind you, nonsense coming from you, “I don’t mind waiting, I could take a shower as well. My water bill is expensive.”

“Okay,” she says and begins to set her stuff at the one right beside the one you were standing at. You shouldn’t be surprised, but you had wished she would make a move. That she would hint at wanting to join you, maybe showing interest in you sexually.

You breathe deep and undress where you are, closing the curtain just before doing so. You reach a hand out to set your clothes on an outside bench. The water was hot, the smoke rising and collecting on the surrounding black tiles. It was much nicer than the shower you had at home and it genuinely surprised you.

She realized before you, calling out and saying she had soap if you needed. Her tone was teasing, asking if you were here to take a dry shower. You called out for her to hand it to you. The curtain made its clinking sound, causing your heart to fall out of your chest. You flinch, freezing as you come face to face with her. Her completely clothed body contrasting yours.

Her eyes flicker between your face and bare skin. No words escape her, face neutral as she hands you the soap and leaves with a jerk to the curtain.

It made your heart jump out of your chest when a second later you hear her curse. She brushes past the curtains again, descending towards you. It was two steps before your back collides with the shower wall.

A protest is taken from you when her lips collide with yours. She spreads your hands out beside you, intertwining them and holding them. There’s a forceful pressure in how you’re held between her body and the wall behind you. A heat builds within you and around the two of you as you drown in each other.

Her lips find the sensitive spot on your neck, pulling a moan from you, “can’t resist, I can’t wait anymore.”

She slides your arms to wrap around her neck, “I need to hear you say you want this. I’ll drop everything if you’re not ready.”

You smile and nod as you vocalize your consent. She’s lifting your left leg with a hand dragging under your thigh and propping it on her waist.

“At any time you need to stop or you want to slow down, tell me please, okay?”

You mumble your confirmation, hands fiddling with her wet hair. She places gentle kisses down your body, starting under your jaw and trailing down towards your inner thigh.

Her attention is completely focused, eyes glazed over already. A whine is pulled from you the second her tongue is licking across your heart. She presses it harder onto your clit, morning when she feels you tug at her hair.

You have a hand in her hair, another pressing against your mouth. A hand on your hip holds you open, barely putting in any effort whenever your hips twitch or try and close around her head.

“You’re so pretty,” she mumbles into you.

She slides the first finger in, a shameful whine coming out from behind your hand. The water falls behind you two, the heat and pressure below pressure you to breathe deep.

When she feels you’re ready, she begins to fit another finger in. She doesn’t miss how you shiver when she angles her fingers.

“Like that, sweet thing?”

A string of yeses fill the room, your tone breathy and sweet. She’s driving them in harder, directing them right at the spot that has your legs quivering.

Her tongue presses against your clit, building pleasure between your legs. You whimper at the sudden bite to your inner thigh. It was then that she decided to slide a third finger.

“Wanda,” you breathe out, back arching to chase after what she had been building.

Her fingers twist, trusting against your upper wall just as she sucks on your thigh.

“Oh my—please.”

You’re tugging at her hair, gasps and incoherent mumbles tumbling out from your lips.

“You’re squeezing me so tight,” she sucks at your clit, grinning at how your body reacts, “gonna come?”

Too much time passes and she’s impatient. Wanda thrusts her fingers in harder, a complete contrast of how gentle her voice sounds.

“Love. Are you close?”

“Yes,” you whimper, “don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of doing so.“

With a final kiss to your clit you’re sent over the edge. You grip at the tile, nails digging into the grooves. Wanda removes her fingers instantly, almost frantic as she brings her mouth to your heat. She soaks up every shiver, tongue swiping until all she can taste is herself.

You mumble her name, “kiss me.”

She’s shooting up, meeting you halfway. A muffle moan sounding from her as soon as you do.

“Mm,” you smile into her lips, “you taste good.”

“It drives me crazy,” she admits and pulls you back into a passionate kiss. A hand comes and strokes at your back, calming you down. It was when you felt your mind begin to clear, the effects of the orgasm fading away when she had started biting around your neck.

“If you continue like that,” you begin, stopping to gasp when she actually bites on your shoulder.

“Or what,” she questions, her eyes look at to the shower head with a shit-eating smile. You follow where she looked and jerk her head back by her hair.

“Every minute I spend with you I swear you just want me to believe you’re a total goof.”

“Is pleasing my girlfriend so bad?

“That’s a shower head.”

“So? Give me a chance,” she gives the worst puppy dog eyes, and yet you still can’t turn her down.

Her hands pull it off of the holder, the smile never leaving her face. Your emotions were apparent on your face. She laughs and kisses you sweetly, “it won’t hurt if that’s what you’re expecting.”

“I don’t think that, I just think you’re crazy sometimes.”

She hums, ignoring you and opening your legs. The water pressure feels like you’re grinding down on a pillow.

“You make the cutest faces,” she murmurs quietly to herself. She tilts her wrist for it to angle just below your clit. The action has your nails tearing into her back.

“Feel good, hmm?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you whine, head falling onto her shoulder, “keep it there, please, please.”

She shushes you, repeating how she’s going to take care of you. She changes the setting, eyes steady on you and each reaction she pulls from you.

“Gonna come already?”

“Keep it there,” you move your head to kiss her chin, “please Wanda.”

“I will,” she whispers, “I will.”

When she realizes you’re coming, she’s hanging the shower head back to not overstimulate you. You’re coming down your high, breathing deep into the space you’ve created between you and her.

“You’re so beautiful. I can’t help myself.”

You laugh breathlessly, head tilting back as she kissing around your chest and neck.

The sound filling her heart with joy. You stay cooped in each other’s hold, feeling comfortable not saying anything for a few minutes.

“Was it okay?”

“It was wonderful,” you kiss her nose, “thank you. I feel bad, you haven’t gotten off.”

“You don’t have to, watching you was enough.”

You push her back and stare at her, “did you really come from watching me?”

She pinches under your breasts, “no. I just got myself off when I was eating you out earlier. I wasn’t lying, seeing you come is enough.”

“Speaking of,” wanda grabs at your waist, “do you want to come again?”

You smack her hands away, a warning that if she doesn’t actually shower, you’ll shoo her off to another shower. She does so well for the first part, enjoying herself and being with you.

It was sweet how she checked in, hands gentle washing the soap into your hair. It was when she had to start washing your body that she became suspicious. What set you her was how she was taking too long to wash your breast.

She had stood behind you, hands running down the front of your body while she breathed deep into your ear about how she wanted to take you while someone was in a shower beside you. You realized then that your warning was fake. She too realized, another playful smile finding its way onto her face as she felt your body melt into hers again.

The water had become cold by the two of you came back to reality and finish “showering.”

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@dorabledewdroop @aru-son @thelittleliars

@sokovianbaby @natsbiggestfan1

@r0manxff @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

@emiliaisdead @esposadejoyhuerta

@shinysuitcloud @xxsekhmet

@casquinhaa @scarlettbitchx

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #wanda x fem!reader #dom wanda #wanda x you #top wanda #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x fem!reader #mommy wanda #hockey coach!wanda #competing series #marvel wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximommy #bottom reader #service dom!wanda

[waxingrunes]

I understand if you’re too busy to answer this or don’t want to, but i was wondering if you wouldn’t mind telling us some of your non-explicit headcanons or just some traits you think wolfstar have in general? Your explicit ones are sososo hot but today I'm feeling low and need some comforting. Yiur blog is just a safe space for me but I totally understand if not! I love your work <3 all my love x

There are so many nondescript hc’s I have that this has the potential to turn into a formal essay with cited sources, so I’ll go for more of a generalised dump of info I have for each in a hope that it lifts some of your fog Anon. Maybe bullet pointed because it’ll be easier to read than my usual untidy form of communication. Hope you feel lighter soon.

Sirius

• will lick a yoghurt pot if there’s no clean spoons. There’s the option to go for fruit instead, but he wants the yoghurt and by god he will get his yoghurt

• is a fucking terrible driver, gives Remus and any passenger white knuckles due to speed issues and not using a lower gear when taking corners

• is however, in complete control when on a motorcycle; very hot, very controlled and will take his passenger’s safety very seriously

• professionally trained in ballroom and ballet, the latter which he is sometimes mocked in jest for, even by Remus, until he one time caught him stretching elegantly on the floor one morning with his upper body laid flat between long, toned, wide spread legs, ‘morning moony’, a healthy blush on his cheeks

• private crier, doesn’t cry easily

• goes quiet when angry as an initial defence but it doesn’t take long for him to start dropping breadcrumbs of sarcastic comments; can also be snobby and bratty, perhaps sometimes will get nasty and direct (bringing up things he shouldn’t to score points in the heat of the moment)

• suffers immeasurable guilt (helped by the point above) but is always masking a weighted feeling of guilt no matter what he’s doing, so much so it’s manifested into quite a serious anxiety problem in the wrong crowds

• he fidgets a lot, not in a chaotic way, just always has to have his fingers busy with something

• likes the smell of gasoline

• once had to talk himself down from throwing a child in a dustbin

• loves the colour red; blood red and cherry red to be precise but secretly loves dark blue even more because it’s what looks most handsome on Remus despite him not wearing it often

• sighs a lot

• pretended he couldn’t speak English to get away with jumping a queue

• hates the smell and taste of liquorice (unless heavily strawberry/cherry/raspberry flavoured)

• on one particular messy night out he got so impatient waiting at the bar, he reached over and grabbed a discarded bottle of alcohol the server had left open and swigged it

• digs his nails into his skin when anxious and is often reminded to relax the tension in his joints

• stargazes often

• once linked his pinky finger with Remus and asked him to pinky promise not to tell anyone what he was about to tell him, since which a tradition of trust was born where Remus will offer his pinky or the last two fingers for Sirius to hold or squeeze when he’s feeling unsure in public, or in any situation where verbal reassurance isn’t appropriate

• gets a weird thrill at the sound of cork popping from a bottle

Remus

• collects beer mats and keeps them in a drawer, thinks about making them into a display

• got tired of kids playing ball against the wall of his place (after repeat offences and him asking very nicely for them to stop) one day so went out, retrieved the ball and threw it so hard against of the cars it set the alarm off

• owner of said car came running out the house and Remus blamed it on the children. Never had the same issue again

• has a wildly sweet tooth and will always drop one or two packets of sugar into any warm beverage

• stares into space and gets involuntarily caught on someone’s face one too many times which makes them uncomfortable from the ‘Death Stare’ phenomenon when in reality, he’s lost in lala land

• can cook, is actually a proficient cook, but will not cook for anyone but Sirius, James or Lily

• will crack his knuckles, wrists and neck absentmindedly, all of which makes his company squirm because it’s often very loud and ‘pop-py’ but Sirius fucking loves it

• stays very calm during an argument but can shout louder than most and when he does, ears ring from the silence that follows

• prefers tea over coffee

• will eat liquorice any time he wants to piss Sirius off

• cries more than Sirius, but still a private crier

• always has to be the old boot in Monopoly

• loves words that are vowel heavy or double voweled because those are the ones where the scraps of Sirius’ lost French accent surface the most

• has a gentle touch, is aware of his size and nature of his lycanthropy, therefore always somewhat reserved

• loves socks, has a collection of ‘dad socks’

• has the messiest writing out of all the Marauders but loves handwritten things, owns three very different fountain pens for very different purposes

• is polite, but as he’s aged doesn’t tend to ‘fake smile’ a lot, feeling no need to fill uncomfortable silences for the sake of others

• has a chair he favours and often dozes off in it. Most of the time waking up to Sirius on top of him

#ask #wolfstar #might tag this properly #remus lupin #sirius black #remus #sirius

[writingshushf1]

Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A man after midnight)

Summary: The one where you are Sebastian Vettel’s engineer through out the years, never realized that maybe, the older man - now newly divorced, had developed feelings for you.

Rating: +16

Warnings: mentions of sex, masturbation, adult (sorta) language, daddy issues.

Word count: 3.5k

Note: since I started this new blog, I’ll post all my ao3 f1 fanfics here! So this is also available in my ao3. btw: this one-shot is inspired on a tik tok by read_between.the_wines (she has really good prompts and I’ll use them a lot!)

masterlist

Sebastian Vettel. Four-time world champion. Has raced for BMW Sauber, Toro Rosso, Red Bull, Ferrari and now, Aston Martin. German. Simple family. Reserved. And now, recently divorced.

That news hit the websites, just the way he didn't want it. They had not been together for a few months, but he had not commented for the safety of Hanna and her children. However, the media always managed to take little pieces of his privacy and spread them to the world.

His closest friends already knew and so did his team, but they all kept quiet about it, they knew him.

A couple of curious eyes were looking for the German at the Aston Martin hospitality. They were friends, the girl might be 7 years younger than him, but they always got along great, especially when she needed to adjust his car. Sebastian was always her safe harbour, since when she joined Ferrari in 2019, only 25 years old and with an impressive knowledge about what he was doing, so when he decided to switch teams, she didn't even hesitate to go for it. The German, on the other hand, he's always had a different take on her - of course, at first it was a platonic feeling, a friendship he never thought he could find, until the day he found himself falling for her. Perhaps, it was the girl who - unknowingly - ended up ending the couple's relationship.

Unfortunately, he knew very well that she felt nothing for him beyond a sweet friendship.

When the woman found him, her expression of curiosity turned bittersweet; she was worried about his condition, sitting on the floor of his driver's room with his hands on his head. She took a few steps and crouched in front of him, touching his arm lightly. At first, the man flinched, but as he smelled the sweet scent of peach perfume, he accepted the caress, letting out a tearful sigh.

"Hey..." She whispered as soon as he lifted his face. He was red, hair messy and beard longer than usual.

"It's public. I'm officially a divorced man."

"They shouldn't have done that. It's cruel. Even more so that you have the girls and the little one." She said quietly. "Did you talk to Hanna after the news came out?"

"Yes... She knows it wasn't our fault." The girl cracked a smile.

"So, if she knows-let's go. Wipe your face and lift your chin. You're too good to succumb to what the media does." She stood, holding out her hand for him to take.

"What would I do without you, liebling?" he laughed, slipping his arm over her shoulder.

"I have no idea. I'm the best friend you could ever have."

…..............................................

She was sitting on top of a large metal box, Vettel beside her, looking at the tools that were on a shelf. It was Saturday after qualifying and they were fixing some technical errors with the car. Their legs wobbled as she listened to him talk about the possible problems, writing them down. As curious eyes lifted to pay attention to their driver, a guy in an Alpine t-shirt walked past them, waving at her and within seconds a silly grin was on his face.

"Someone's got a crush." Sebastian said, in his strong accent.

"Shut up!" She kicked and lightly kicked his leg. "You know I only have eyes for you." She pouted.

"Ahem, I know."

"Come on Seb!"

He only shook his head in denial, cracking a smile. Suddenly, his mobile phone started ringing frantically and he answered it without even seeing who it was, they both knew only one person had that ringtone. His voice was soft yet firm; she didn't understand German, but it sounded like they were disagreeing on something, especially that he pressed his temples with his fingers, taking a deep breath. He hung up, throwing his head back, groaning loudly.

"The little one is sick. My parents can't take the girls and neither can Hanna's parents. I'll need to bring them to the Paddock tomorrow, which I hate because people will be taking pictures."

"Britta can sort it out, can't she? She always does."

"She will. I just think it's going to be a bit weird without Hanna being here with them."

"It'll be fine. I can help you, you know I love the girls and they know I'm the coolest auntie!" She waited for him to come closer to give little slaps of encouragement on his shoulders.

…......................................................

Early Sunday morning, she had arrived and as soon as she entered the Aston Martin hospitality, she felt arms grab her legs. She cracked a smile and looked down, seeing two blonde girls with long smiles, she ran her hand over the hair of both of them, ducking down and being bombarded with love. They ran over each other's words, the sweet girls speaking a German mixed with English that could confuse anyone, however the engineer listened to them intently, with a smile on her face.

Soon, she found the father of these cuties, Vettel was playing ping-pong with Stroll for a video. The three waited away from the cameras for the German, who cracked a warm smile at the sight of them. Even though the girls were not so little anymore, he took one in each arm, walking to his garage. Soon they were distracted by other people on the team, who were loving having two adorable children there.

"They look really cute wearing those Aston clothes." The woman said, nudging him with her elbow.

"They insisted. And I can't always say no."

"So... We'll get a good result today. For them, okay?"

"Okay."

He started in P12 and until halfway through the race, he had not entered the scoring zone, which made the engineer upset. She wanted the kids to see their father happy and in a high position. They did the tyre change a bit too early, which could ruin the strategy, especially as he dropped to P15. However, he was still on a two-lap tyre when several teams started to call for a change, so he moved up positions as he felt confident enough to overtake other drivers. The girls screamed in happiness every time the number 5 car was shown on the various TVs inside the pit lane. He finished in P5 on that cold April afternoon - the girls were self-conscious about how it worked, that their father hadn't won the race, but for them, him finishing fifth where there were 20 other racers was amazing. The three of them ran to the rail, with her holding them so they could see his car very close passing by the finish line.

Meanwhile, Sebastian was conflicted, seeing her with her daughters, having fun and such a natural way, so easy and affectionate. He was trying to push that thought away, but the truth is: he had been thinking about her for a long time.

From the day she first set foot in the Ferrari, the girl hiding behind a cap bigger than her head and red polo shirt twice her size - they didn't have her dress size that week - intrigued him, from the sharp voice, ready to destroy someone in seconds, on another hand, someone so sweet it gave you cavities on just thinking about her. They hit it off at first, the feeling of finding someone who understood your craziness, who stayed late inside the garage studying, tinkering with the car, someone who spoke the language of motoring. Of course, everything was always platonic, he was a married man; she even had a long and painful crush on him, but she moved on, it was too risky to go after a committed man. She just didn't know Sebastian couldn't stop thinking about her, he had loved every bit of her since the day they ran away from the end of the season Ferrari’s party, ending up in some random bar in Maranello, laughing their drunk asses off.

He did not look at his wife the way he looked at her . Several nights, lying in his hotel bed, he would stare at the ceiling and think of calling her, hoping that she would come running and snuggle into his arms, that she would kiss his lips sweetly and spend the night by his side, that he could wake up in the morning with her naked body covered only by a thin blanket. He would touch himself thinking of her. The worst is that she couldn't do that, it wasn't even because of the age difference, she was a grown woman, but he was afraid of compromising the position of both of them - but mainly hers, within the team, it wasn't as if some didn't doubt her real ability normally.

After his interviews and PR duties, he appeared in the garage, seeing from afar the door to his driver's room open and them sleeping on the couch, covered with a duvet. In one corner, the engineer was giving a soft laugh and the older man brought his gaze to her. The girl was leaning against the wall, with a few locks of hair curled in her fingers, her face was flushed and her pupils dilated, in front of her, a tall, dark haired man wearing an Alpine t-shirt. The same man who had waved to her the night before. Internally, he was burning with jealousy, but on the outside, he just took a deep breath and cracked a smile, walking calmly over to them. The German gently touched her shoulder, giving it a squeeze, which made her turn her face away immediately.

"Seb!"

"Hey lieb, are you still going to want a ride back to the hotel? I'll just pick up the girls and be on my way." His tone was low in the hope that the other wouldn't hear.

"Sorry- I'm going out with Matheo. He's dropping me off at the hotel later." She left a kiss on his cheek. "See you tomorrow for breakfast?"

"Sure. See you tomorrow."

He waved to them both as he walked out with the two sleepy little girls. As soon as he turned his face, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, biting his lower lip.

The engineer left with the Alpine strategist shortly after her interaction with Vettel. Matheo quickly took her hand in his, as if to show the others who were leaving that she was his, at first she didn't mind, she was a person who liked to be touched. They were in his car, going to some restaurant she didn't know about - and he didn't make a point of telling her.

"So... You and Vettel?" His voice was soft, yet accusatory.

"We are friends. He's basically a big brother to me, when I got into Ferrari he was always my guide and listened to me, even if I wasn't one hundred percent right." She smiles as she recalls the memories. "I had a side job babysitting the girls when Seb and Hanna wanted to be romantic, at least I didn't spend it alone at the hotel."

"I get it... I thought you might have something, by the way he looks at you ."

"What? No! Seb is very concerned and he has this dad vibe that is so cute. It's not what you're thinking."

He shrugged, parking the car for them to have their supposed romantic evening.

And it was a good one. He bought her a nice dinner, then drove her to her hotel room and kissed her at the door. She brought him into the room and they had sex that night. He wasn't the best she'd ever had, but he definitely made her scream a few times - which wasn't the best idea, since Sebastian's room was next door to hers, at least the girls were going to stay with his parents. On the other side of the wall, the blond couldn't sleep properly, the noises from her room wouldn't let him be at peace. He felt anger, envy, sadness. He was the one who was supposed to leave you like that.

He hadn't slept at all. Then early in the morning he was already drinking coffee when he saw her coming downstairs, her face still a little smeared with makeup.

"Good morning!" She said as she sat down in front of him and received a tired groan in response. "What?"

"It's not easy trying to sleep when the person in the next room is loud." In the same second, she widened her eyes, quickly running her hand over her face, embarrassed that he had heard her groan.

"Sorry! It wasn't intentional. I just... I wanted to please him."

"You mean it wasn't good?" He arched an eyebrow.

"It was! It was good, but not... The best. "

"Wow." He laughed low. "So he really missed something."

"Yeah..." Her face was entirely red. "He was so nice to me all night that I didn't have the courage to tell him that I didn't.... You know, he came pretty close." She mumbled it all out.

"So no second date?"

"First, we've been going out for a few weeks and second, he may not be a knight in shining armour, but he has the potential to be someone good. And I don't want to waste that."

"'I can fix him' syndrome?" he took a sip of his tea. "So... 2000s romance movie. Or daddy issues."

"Vettel!" She couldn't hold back her laughter, putting both hands over her face, hiding it. "Blame my father for abandoning me."

The two of them couldn't control their laughter, drawing attention from a few people around.

….....................................

The engineer was in her loft, lying on the couch with some TV program on. It was half past midnight, a glass of wine in her hand. She hated spending her evenings completely alone, knowing that she couldn't just walk in the next door and her colleagues or Sebastian ready to answer it. The wind whipped against the window, it was so depressing, not a soul there to lift her out of her boredom. Until her doorbell rings. Matheo was there, with flowers. She answered in surprise and he said that refusing her request for him to come to her loft was ridiculous and he could spend even half an hour in busy London for her.

They had had a fight, he had gone out with another girl, and she thought they were exclusive - clearly a miscommunication. And the night at her apartment was post "reconciliation", only he said he wouldn't go, he couldn't stand London. She called Sebastian crying, saying that the strategist didn't care about her and that she wanted so much a hug from the older man, but he was so far away. His heart ached to hear her so destroyed, but he was even angrier when he read the message that appeared almost at one o'clock in the morning, saying that the blessed man had shown up with flowers and that despite everything, he was a good person.

Matheo and she had sex again, not as amazing as the first time - and each time the quality decreased until this time. She blamed the tension of having him again, it was nothing, she could teach him. He left early Sunday morning, saying he needed to get back to see his family.

In the second week of vacation, she received a very important visit. Sebastian Vettel was knocking on her door, with a crate of beer and German sausage.

"You're no good." She said when she saw him, going into his arms in a warm hug.

Again, it was half past midnight, they were drunk. Vettel was making bratkartoffeln, while she was sitting on one of the kitchen benches, drinking beer.

"I know he was an asshole to me, but he tried to fix it. I can give it at least one more chance..."

"But what about the sex?" He looked at her.

"Still bad, but I can change that ." She cracked a damned smile.

"I bet even I could do better than him." He grumbled.

"And how can you be sure?" She asked in a suggestive tone, taking another sip of her beer.

" Because I know you. And I know what you like. " He cracked a smile, focusing on the potatoes in the pan.

"Silly." She slapped his shoulder. "But it's serious. He's good, you know? He doesn't talk about our jobs when we're together, he likes to play video games, and no, he wouldn't steal information from our car even because his team is better than ours."

"You can steal information." He said jokingly, but he was starting to get annoyed with the situation. Was it jealousy? Of course.

"It's serious, Seb. I really think I'll make it official."

"Even though you cried for two hours on the phone with me?"

"I can fix him!" She put her arms up in surrender, repeating the same thing he said to her at the hotel weeks ago.

"Daddy issues."

"You can't say anything if you're single."

"Divorced."

"Same thing."

"Depends on the perspective, lieb."

"How? I don't think so. It's only because you want to get out of the argument."

"Maybe."

"Conflit advoidance."

"Emotional needness."

"Shit." She shrugged, getting down from the countertop and putting the bottle in the trash, soon grabbing another from the fridge. As Sebastian finished the early morning snack for them, she rolled her eyes and spoke again. "But seriously, he looks like a person to introduce himself to his parents! Good job, handsome, nice, takes me to nice places.... The sex is something to improve on, but we know that's only with practice." She laughed.

Suddenly, Vettel closed his eyes and said under his breath. "Can you shut up about him?"

"Um, excuse me?" She turned her face to him, with an annoyed expression.

"Oh-oh! Nothing." He fumbles and almost knocks the sauteed bacon to the floor. "Never mind. Just-just forget it, please." He closes his eyes for a few seconds. "I'm just tired, I'm sorry."

"No! You're not tired." She drops the unopened beer bottle into the sink. "Tell me what you really think about him."

"I... I just not-" She finished putting all the food in, sighing low and leaning his lower back against the counter. "I don't want to hear about him. I don't."

"Why?"

They exchanged glances for a few seconds, in complete silence. Something clicked in the engineer’s mind, making her slowly open her lips.

"Oh my God. Are you jealous?"

He looks away from hers, fiddling with the ends of his blond strands.

"Stop! Are you-are you jealous?" Her voice was slightly shaky.

"Please." He closed his eyes, running his hand over his temples. "Please just shut up about it. Just keep it between us. Just shut up." He muttered, completely embarrassed.

He didn't realise when they got so close, but when he felt her lips almost brushing against his lobe, his breath failed him.

"Make me."

In a single motion, he put his hands on her waist, pressing her against the countertop, and then his body was against her as well. One hand went up to her face and their lips touched. At first, she didn’t kiss back, her head was processing what just happened between them. Sebastian pulled away after a few seconds, she didn’t reciprocate, ‘of course she wouldn’t, she’s in love with that Alpine douche bag’ the older man thought. Her head was full, all the suppressed feelings for him, the need to find other men to endlessly satisfy her and yet she was never satisfied, because they weren’t him. Matheo wasn’t Vettel, he never could be even one percent of what the German was.

When the blond was loosening the touch around her, the engineer finally woke from her trance, grabbing his shirt with both of her hands, pulling him back against her, connecting their lips. It was a sloppy kiss, deep and passionate, it looked like they waited years to share it - in fact, it did. Her hands were on his chest, while he embraced her waist, pulling her closer. Their lips fit perfectly, their rhythm was like no other and their tongues passed each other’s, enjoying the bitter taste of beer. It started to become sloppier, with her leg going up his waist and his body adjusting in the middle of her legs, small moans and lip bites were exchanged - maybe too many times, but they weren’t sober enough to care. The engineer’s lips lowered to his jaw and soon they were along his neck, biting, licking and nibbling spots that would be very visible next morning. Vettel threw his head back at the action, groaning her name, lowering both of his hands to her ass cheeks, squeezing it.

“Bed… Bedroom.” He said, breathless.

She smiled and walked out from him, going up the mezzanine’s stairs and waiting for him. As soon as he reached her, he threw her on the bed, with a naughty smile.

“Show me… How much you know me.”

“Of course, lieb.” He kneeled on the bed, holding her shirt hem.

#sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel fanfic #f1 x y/n #f1 x you #sebastian vettel imagine #sv5 #sebastian vettel one shot #f1 imagine #f1 one shot

[jamneuromain]

Highway to Hell - Shared

Series Masterlist

Series summary: A failed mission brought you once again back on earth, a punishment that’s more pleasurable than you'd normally expect punishments to be. Your punishment? Corrupting people’s thoughts. It’s easy, in a very simple way: sexual pleasure. Turns out no man can resist such a beauty like you.

And who were you? Oh, just the devil's child.

A/N: This is a drabble of what would the four men do when they find out you have been dancing among them. Spoiler alert: they decide to share. Applause to the amazing @rogerswifesblog / @rogerswifesblog-updates who help me write this series and provide many excellent ideas to put in the fic <333

Pairings: Cop Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Priest Steve Rogers x Reader, Bartender Ari Levinson x Reader, Uncle Curtis Everett x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Gangbang, Dub con, Double Penetration, P in V, Anal, Oral (Male Receiving), Handjob, Unprotected Sex, Age Gap (implied), Power Imbalance, Spanking, Threesome (implied), Overstimulation, Creampie (implied), Cum Play, Dummification (just a little), slightly dark(?

On second thought, you shouldn’t have trusted Steve, who told you he needed to speak to you in somewhere private.

And you trusted him. Following him to where he said it would be “peace and quiet”.

Or else, you wouldn’t be cornered by four fuming men in a hotel room, all knowing that you have slept with them separately, while thinking they must have been your only one.

Who would doubt an innocent girl that did nothing than to accept their “generous” offer?

Lloyd, obviously.

“Smart move, sunshine.” The man with a moustache twitches his lips, far from amused, “Telling us that you are shy and rather we won’t tell anybody? Intimate moves forbidden in public? Too bad your little plan didn’t work out.”

“I didn’t plan anything.” You lie to their faces. While in fact you did, carefully choosing your “target”. Lloyd was the unexpected one of them though, since he asked you to pull over as you should have gotten a speed ticket.

“Public?” Steve grinds his teeth before growling, his temper on the thin line of exploding, “I fucked her right in the church. There were only two of us. But still…” Drawing a cross in front of his chest, Steve murmurs a few prayers silently, regardless of the other three men watching him in curiosity.

Lloyd snaps his head back to you, flashing a wolfish glint in his eyes, “The point is, you made us feel very bad about ourselves, sunshine.”

“Yeah, well, you should be proud of yourselves. I wasn’t planning on expanding the list of the men I’ve slept with.” You snap back.

“And we’re supposed to … what? Gloat?” Curtis casually says, taking off his coat, blocking the window, and probably your only hope of escaping, as Lloyd leans on the door.

“If you don’t like it. Feel free to cancel my monthly subscription.” You retort his sarcasm, crossing your arm in front of your chest.

“Gentlemen,” Ari hums in a low voice so that everyone could pay him some attention. He’s been silent ever since Steve led you into this room, “obviously we need more than a ‘monthly’ drop-by.”

The men nod in unison.

“Although we haven’t clarified the specific terms, I believe we should use her whenever we please. And, of course, as we all agree to, share.” Ari smiles at you, but says the darkest thing you could ever imagine.

This was definitely not part of your plan.

“I’ll ask Jake whether he wants to be part of this.” Curtis throws an icy glare at you, “I doubt he would be a problem though. He has shared with me before.”

Lloyd mutters a “fuck”. While Steve is still mulling over his sin-clarification.

“Shall we start?” Ari is shrugging off his leather jacket as he speaks, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt.

“You can’t-” You cry in panic as the four men close in, surrounding you in the middle, “this is against the law … or something at least.”

“Oh sunshine, I am the law in this town.” Lloyd grabs your chin, his psychopathic grin gives you shivers down to your spine, “and you should be glad we decide to forgive you and share you. Or I could tie you up in my basement and invite my new friends over, occasionally.”

You draw a deep breath.

Tears burning. Your jaw hurting. Your dripping holes spreading wide open for two cocks.

“You like that, don’t you?” Lloyd groans as he squeezes your hand tighter, guiding you to stroke his hard cock.

“Yeah she does.” Steve agrees quietly before you could answer. He knees on the couch to push his cock further in your swollen pussy, “Christ. She’s so tight.”

“Wait till you’ve tried her ass, Priest.” Ari brings his hand firmly down your ass cheek, painting it red – as if it weren’t pink and hand-printed already, “that ass is fucking heaven.” He chuckles darkly, kissing the sensitive spot behind your ear, gripping your waist, making sure you are fully seated on his thick member, “or should I say hell?”

Stuffed to the fullest with two cocks in both of your holes, you couldn’t do more than let out a mere whimper.

“Can’t believe I’ve bought her stupid acts.” Curtis spits out through gritted teeth as he feels your throat takes his cock again as far as it could, your whimper vibrates his cock. In return, he tugs your hair without mercy, “all those innocent girly acts. Fuck.”

“We all bought it.” Lloyd eyes Curtis, raising his eyebrows, mocking Curtis, “and speaking from a man that has shared her with his son before, seriously? Innocent?”

Curtis huffs but does not bother to answer.

“My turn.” As Lloyd pulls your hair, and choke you on his cock, leaving Curtis slightly irritated.

You were used by these four men for hours. Each has painted your body, both inside and outside in milky-white substance, bringing you orgasms after orgasms. Your holes red, leaking, and abused.

“No more.” You grip Lloyd’s thigh to keep balance, sniffling when he lets your head go and breathe, battling your eyelashes, but they are heavy with tears that you can’t see his expression, “hurt too much.”

“Heard that?” Lloyd barks out laughter, wiping his cock on your face, leaving traces of your saliva and cum on your rosy cheek, “she said she can’t take it, boys.”

Ari grunts out of disagreement, his fingers dancing around your rim, attempting to squeeze one in alongside his cock, “she was screaming and moaning just fine for hours. Lies.”

“Ari, please,” The helplessness inside you bubbles and fuels to your tears, “I just can’t.”

Steve peppers a trail of kisses down your throat, nibbing your shoulder, while toying with your sensitive clit, “I guess you have to be a strong girl for us then. Don’t you want to be good for all of us, hmm? We’re prepping you. More might join, you know.” He speaks softly, comforting you as always. The panting on the joint between your neck and shoulder increases when your pussy grips him. Still, he mouths your breasts, sucking little red marks on them.

“Steve-” You feel torn apart. The four men bringing you pleasure, but in their own way. As if your body belongs to them separately. And the coil in your stomach threatens to snap with greater pain and pleasure than you could withstand.

A rough hand grips your chin, forcing you to turn the other way.

The hand that has hold you for countless times, on your back with a friendly pat.

Curtis.

“She’s not dumb yet. She can still talk.” Curtis talks about you as if you are an object in front of him, having you clench down your thigh involuntarily. It’s degrading, but it arouses you so much than you should admit. “I’d say she could take more.” The dark brooding man inspects your teary eyes and your cum-stained face, “yeah she’s alright.”

“Heard that, sunshine?” Lloyd taps your forehead with his knuckles, “not brain-dead yet.” He grins, “but it does sound empty, folks.”

Steve wipes the cum from your pussy lips, a mixture of the previous men who has thoroughly used it before he did, onto your soft stomach, which compliments your pretty skin and your cute bellybutton. He smiles warmly, though you are not even certain at this point, “she’s always the smartest. I’d say we work harder to satisfy this little devil, hmm?”

With the element of surprise, Ari starts bouncing you on his dick, shamelessly putting his flexing biceps to use, which earns him a few strangled sounds between cries and moans from you.

He simply shrugs, on receiving three other men’s looks, “I am working.”

And you gulp in fright. When Lloyd, with his sadist grin, taps your lips to open for his heavy cock as you still struggle for air.

This would be the start of some many long nights with men more than you could handle.

Taglist: @rosedpetal @dankoiseori @katcutie @peachlle @mrs-marc-spector

#highway to hell #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers smut #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson smut #lloyd hansen x reader #lloyd hansen x you #lloyd hansen smut #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett smut

[awoogayanderes]

NEWLY WEDDED…AS CO-WORKERS

➪ request : “i was thinking of ideas for request hehe so here it is, tecchou and reader have a mission and they have to pretend that they're a married couple but here's the problem, they're not a partner yet, they like each other and there's the tension but they don't know each others feelings (I don't know if hunting dogs would have that type of mission, feel free of ignoring if this is not good enough)” - anonymous

➪ other notes : this prompt is so cute, it kinda reminds me of the ‘one bed, two people’ trope, wait a minute that’s exactly what i’m writing ! non edited, this is also really long hence the “read more” break, i don’t like this since it feels rushed but i tried my best

- you’d be lying if you said this wasn’t an embarrassing situation to be in

- “both of you need to act as a new wedded couple, staying in the same hotel as those wanted criminals” that bastard fukuchi said to both you and tecchou

- it wouldn’t be as awkward if you didn’t have bubbling feelings for your spaced out co worker

- though there was more to what meets the eye, tecchou had started to garner feelings for you even if he didn’t realize it

- and who knew this ? jouno, analyzing both of your heartbeats but he doesn’t care to tell you, it’s your fault for liking an idiot he thinks

- even though both of you acted as professional as one can be, there was a lingering awkwardness that wouldn’t leave you alone

- and once you got to the hotel, you realized that both of you would probably have to share one bed, it only made sense with your story

- being in civilian clothes instead of your uniform in public always felt weird, but clinging onto tecchou’s arm happily leaning into him felt just a bit weirder

- the lady at the front desk happily gave you one of their best rooms when you gushed about an exciting “honeymoon” planned

- tecchou can’t say anything, something in his subconscious telling him to not say anything ignorant to you

- why was he so determined to be collected around you, why did he want to impress you he ponders, he’s not like that with jouno so why is he like that with you..?

- once you arrive to your room, your hypothesis was obviously correct, one bed, a queen sized bed to snuggly fit a newly wedded couple

- when tecchou sees this, he can’t help but get red in the face, stumbling over his words when he gets better situated

- you guys are friends, both of you know this, so it shouldn’t be awkward and both of you try your best to keep the conversation going even if it’s one sided or full of short responses

- thankfully a topic that keeps it going is trying to figure out how you’ll catch the wanted criminals and your plans to draw them in

- then falls night, a silent tension enveloping you both when you realize you haven’t made arrangements with the bed situation

- “you can sleep on the bed, i’ll take the chair,” tecchou gives you a small smile

- not knowing whether you should argue with that idea or not, you slowly nod getting into the soft bed and despite the duvet covering you, it’s so cold

- thankfully you fall asleep quickly, naturally waking up as the sun starts rising, a habit you’ve gotten used to over the years of being a hunting dog

- in the corner is tecchou, sleeping soundly but looking uncomfortable being constricted to the comfort of a chair

- the day runs smoothly, your plan is working yet awkwardness rises between you and tecchou with each lingering touch

- then night falls again, the same situation as last night, you in the bed, him in the chair, yet something’s telling you to ask him to lay down next to you

- maybe it’s because the chair was truly uncomfortable or maybe his warmth would help you or maybe it was just because you wanted the young man close to you

- “t-tecchou, you can um join me in the bed if you want to, you seem uncomfortable and it wouldn’t be fair for me to hog the whole bed,” you say, speaking quickly out of nerves

- pink dusts tecchou’s cheeks, something you don’t notice in the dim lighting, but something he can feel when his face heats up

- without saying another word, the brunette gets into bed with you, taking his side of the bed, staring up at the ceiling

- both of you lay in silence with you on your side and him on his back, a good foot of distance between both of you, making it awkward enough yet comfortable enough

- as the night before, you quickly fall asleep, except this time when you wake up, you’ve rolled over to tecchou, his arm wrapped around you while you’re tucked into him

- you jolt away from him shocked as your face feels hot, tecchou suddenly felt cold, waking up

- not saying anything to each other, you continued on with your day, finally being able to catch the criminals swiftly

- thankful but also disappointed you didn’t have to spend another night with tecchou, both of you finally returned back to headquarters

- both of you still had to write a report on the mission, hair on his face as he wrote silently

- “hey tecchou,” you say to him smiling

- he looks up at you and hums

- “uhm i don’t know if you wanna come over, but i can cook us some dinner,” you say hesitantly, stuttering over your words

- tecchou slowly smiles at you, a sight you’re not used to at all, “why not,” he says, agreeing to your idea

- maybe you could actually be more than just co workers…

#written by terra #sincerely terra #bsd #bsd manga #bsd manga spoilers #bsd x reader #engraved with tenderness #tecchou suehiro x reader #tecchou x reader #bungou stray dogs tecchou #bsd tecchou suehiro #tecchou fluff

[nattinatalia]

Urban Wyatt x Reader : A Little Bump Part 2

Read this first.

It’s been roughly three days since Urban walked out. Three days since you or Cassie have seen him in person. Three days ago your life changed and you don’t know if it was for better or worse.

Urban was currently staying with The Harlows and he’s thankful none of them have brought up the topic or have asked any questions. But he knows it’s only a matter of time that they do.

“So when are you going home?” Jack asks his best friend.

“And there it is.” Urban thought to himself. “I don’t know, but I’ll get out of here if it’s a problem.”

“Don’t be silly, it’s no problem whatsoever. You know you’re always welcome here and you can stay as long as you’d like.” Jessica, Jack’s wife says while stacking a plate full of French toast.

“Sweets, he needs to go fix his shit with Y/N”

“He will, when they’re both cooled down.”

“It’s been three days, how long until they cool down?”

“Jackman, what’s with you?”

He shrugs, “I’m just saying.”

He looks at Urban. “You know I always got your back, But the longer you stay here, you’re proving Y/N what everyone is saying online. You walked out on her and Cassandra, you don’t do that.”

“Maybe she shouldn’t have doubted him.” Jess says, taking a bite from her breakfast. “She should know by now how Stassie is, all she looks for is drama and ways to get people talking. Y/N fell for her games and it’s exactly what Stassie wanted.”

“How can you sit there and say that?” Jack asks her in disbelief.

“What do you mean? It’s not that hard, it’s obvious what she intended. You have to be an idiot if you don’t see that from a mile away.”

“Jess-“

“Don’t Jess me, Jackman.”

“Guys it’s okay. Y/N and I are both in the wro-“

“Answer me this, if you would see things online, People saying I got someone pregnant and there was history with her, would you believe me or for a split second believe what the internet was saying?” Jack asks.

“First of all, as much as I love Y/N, she’s my girl and all, she knew that Urban had a reputation, she knew the way Stassie was when it came to him. You think I’d entertain any kind of relationship with you had I known you had a side piece who felt privileged towards you and everyone around you? No, no I wouldn’t have. Y/N knew all of this about Urban and she decided to pursue the relationship. She can’t feel some type of way now. I don’t know, maybe she shouldn’t have married him if she didn’t fully trust him.”

“Wow. How can you sit there and say that? She’s your best friend, you’re supposed to have her back.”

“I can say the same thing to you, Urban is your best friend, he’s hurting and instead of giving him advice you’re knocking him down, suddenly you’re team Y/N?”

“I’m going to walk away before I say something I’ll regret.” Jack says getting up from his seat on the table.

“No come on man, she’s just giving her opinion and you’re giving yours. No need for you two to fight over mine and Y/N bullshit.”

Jessica takes a sip from her coffee, “I’m just saying it how I see it and I’ll tell it to her too.”

“Yeah well maybe you should’ve answered her calls because she’s in LA right now.” Jack snaps and tosses a cell phone at Jess.

“What do you mean?.” Urban asks.

“Shit.” Jessica is scrolling through her phone. “Urb we need to get you on a jet. Call for backup.”

“Already on it.” Jack says.

••••

Three days since you’ve seen Urban or spoken to him. You had immediately called your brother so he could watch over Cassie, while you handled some stuff.

This was dragging on for far too long, and you weren’t about to let someone shit all over your marriage.

Since day one you and Urban had a rocky relationship. It started with friends with benefits, the both of you didn’t want any titles, but god forbid either of you entertained someone else.

Stassie has always tried to ruin what you and Urban have, even before you two made it official.

Your friends and family, even the public can say it sounds like such a toxic relationship. But you were sure about one thing, you loved that man and you were down bad for him.

Since the moment you two made it official, rumors would come your way left and right and who would be behind them all? Ding, ding, ding, Stassie.

When you found out you were pregnant you confide in Urban and told him if there was any part of him that wanted to go back to his fuck boy ways, to let you know so you can both go your separate ways. He promised you he loved the way things were.

You would’ve thought you being pregnant that Stassie would stop with her crazy tantrums, she just got worse and it was becoming worrisome to you.

She kept commenting under all your posts and his, until you took actions in your own hands and blocked her.

Fast forward to Cassie being born, you and your little family were at peace and at your happiest. Your relationship with Urban had grown even more that you two even decided to elope in Vegas.

Everything was perfect.

Your life was amazing.

Your family was healthy and you were finally getting your white picket fence.

Until that morning three days ago.

Should you have trusted your husband? Yes.

But when your relationship starts off the way it did, you’ll always have doubts.

Which brings you here in Los Angeles, sitting across the one person you never thought you’d reach out to.

“To whom do I owe this surprise?” She asks smugly.

“I’m not here for small talk Stassie.” You roll your eyes. “Kylie was kind enough to reach out to me and set this entire thing up.”

“She’s going through this whole nice girl thing. Not fitting for her image.”

“She’s a mother, she knows how these type of things can affect a family.”

Stassie nods, looking around the rented out coffee shop, courtesy of Kylie Jenner. “Yeah whatever. Why did you need to talk to me?”

“Come on, don’t act like you don’t know.” You’re staring at her with a bored look. “That article that came out.”

“I had nothing to do with that.”

You roll your eyes, “You’ve been trying to break up my relationship with Urban for the longest. You literally tweeted the article.”

“Okay so if you have your answers then why are you still here?”

You take a deep breath. “You’re going to be a mom soon.” You point at her growing belly. “As cheesy as it sounds, once you have your baby your entire world is complete. Once you have your baby in your arms all these thoughts hit you at once, you make a vow to protect that baby from harm.”

“What are you getting at y/n?” Stassie asks, getting annoyed.

“He hurt me, so now my job is to protect my daughter from the same hurt.”

“What? Keep his daughter away?”

You nod, “If it comes down to it? Yeah, because I won’t have him playing house with you and my daughter coming in second.”

“You sound crazy right now.”

“No, what I am is a mother looking out for her daughter.” You shrug.

“What do you want from me?”

“I want the truth.”

“You’re here, so you know the truth.”

You shake your head. “What I know is that I doubted my husband for a second, and that should’ve never happened. I can’t change that, but now that it happened, I want to know if I made a mistake or not. I want to know if that doubt cost me my family, or was it all worth it?.”

“Y/N-“

“Before you answer me.” You grab your phone, and go to your camera roll, click on a specific album and slide the phone towards her. “That’s my daughter, she hasn’t seen her dad in three days. So I need you to tell me the truth, because if you say yes right now, I should tell you my lawyer is already working, she’s getting everything settled to get a Prenatal DNA test.”

“WHAT?” She shrieks.

You chuckle “Oh? You thought this was going to be easy? I might be calm about things right now. But let me remind you, this article ruined my family, so it’s only fair I get all the facts.”

“You can’t do that.”

“You’re right, I can’t. But the father can.”

Stassie is rubbing her belly up and down. “Fine, I lied. I lied about everything before and I lied about this. He’s not the father, we just wanted to get back at you both. You both used us when you were single and we wanted payback.”

“We? Who’s we?” You’re confused now.

“Me.” A voice comes from behind you, You turn around slowly.

“Sorpresa.”

“Are you kidding me?” You growl out.

“It was his idea, I promise you. Urban made it clear he didn’t want me in his life the moment you two made things official.” Stassie blurts out.

“So you got pregnant with his baby.” You point at him. “For what exactly?”

“We tried to get you both jealous, but it obviously didn’t work.” Maluma sits down across from you. “We had sex and well one thing led to another. I know you weren’t all in with your Esposito, so I convinced Stassie to make up this lie and it seems like it worked.”

You turn to glare at Stass, “You are so lucky that you’re pregnant. I would’ve dragged your ass.”

“Yeah well he isn’t so lucky.”

Everything happened so quickly, next thing you know someone is tackling Maluma to the floor.

You stand up in shock once you notice it’s Urban.

You look to your left and see Sunni and Copelan at the entrance of the shop. “Are you two idiots just going to stand there? do something.”

They’re both crossing their arms but not moving.

“Sunni, Cope, get him off.”

“Nahh.” Sunni says.

“He had it coming.” Copelan shrugs.

You roll your eyes. “URBAN STOP.” You yell out in hopes he can hear you. But you know him, you know exactly how he gets when he’s fighting. Everything goes black and he just throws punches after punches.

“Do you want him to get arrested? Get him now.” You yell, glaring at dumb and dumber.

“Shit okay.”

Sunni and Cope both go to break the fight apart.

“LET ME GO!.” Urban yells out.

“No, you did enough damage. You got him good bro.” Sunni tells him.

“Making shit lies just to come between my wife and I? This isn’t middle school.”

“Urb- let’s-“

“NO.” He cuts you off. “You believed them, you believed those lies. That’s what hurts the most.”

“Can we not do this here?” You whisper out, going to stand next to him. “Not in front of them.”

Cope whispers something into Urban’s ear and he nods.

“Neelam will handle all of this, let’s go.” He tells you as he’s walking away, which you have no other choice than to follow behind him.

You follow behind him with your heart and mind raising.

You just hope your marriage is fixable, if not, then there was no else to blame but you.

••••••••••

TAG LIST

@heavyhitterheaux @harlowsbby @arination99 @cmalass @jackharloww @minkookie95 @deannaard @jacksmoviestar @harlowcomehome @fdl305 @httpkoylinnn @xoxokiaraaxoxo @hoodharlow @automaticpeachsong @amethyst09 @aliciacat20 @allyson15 @gabbylovesreading @stefansalvatoresgf @violetdreamsworld @carma-fanficaddict @jasminxts @itsaaliyah2 @itsyagirljaz @harrycanyonmoonn @neon-lights-and-glitter @awhore4moree

#urban wyatt #urban wyatt x reader #urban wyatt x yn #urban wyatt x you #urban wyatt x y/n #urban wyatt fanfic #urban wyatt fic #Jack harlow

[thetargaryenbride]

Nail To The Coffin - S2 - Chapter 8

Warnings: blood, injury

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Byers!Reader

Word Count: 6575

A.N: And thus, we have arrived at the end. Well, there will be one more chapter to officially wrap up season 2 because some characters need some more communication, but like, the S2 plot itself is at least over. Billy is hard to deal with but I'm trying to have him interact and maybe slowly begin to change. Hopefully, I'll pull it off haha As always, please do make me know if I’ve written certain characters OOC and if you think there is something that can be corrected within the story. Thank you for reading. Hope you like it! 🖤 🥀

Masterlist || Chapter 7 || Chapter 9

For the next hour or so, the whole group had united strength and had concocted a plan to redecorate the shed so they could interrogate Will. Your heart broke for the nth time since the beginning of this month as you had to helplessly witness your brother go through horrible thing after horrible thing yet again.

And as if your mental turmoil wasn’t enough, the physical one wasn’t giving you peace either. In fact, you were feeling as if your condition was getting worse. You were getting colder and colder and you could feel sweat forming on your forehead.

“I get why El was your mage now,” you overheard Max talking in the kitchen as she and Mike were getting more supplies to take to the shed.

“What?”

“Lucas. He told me all about her.”

“Well, he shouldn’t have,” said the boy disgruntled and you frowned. “And just because you know the truth, it doesn’t mean you’re in our party. You do know that, right?”

“Yeah, I-I know…I mean, why would you want a stupid zoomer in your party anyways?” she spoke after a while. “I’m just saying, El? She sounds like she was really awesome.”

You understood that Mike felt horrible since El left and now with Max’s sudden appearance and the boys having no problem accepting her into the party must have seemed to him as if the group was replacing Eleven which was not the case.

Max probably felt equally as horrible because of his cold behavior. She also seemed to be pretty much just an outcast as Mike, Dustin, Lucas and Will were, so you supposed school wasn’t that much of a pleasant experience for her. On top of all, she had Billy for a brother so that must be tough. Not that you claimed to know how Billy was behind closed doors and how he acted around his family but you’ve seen enough of his behavior in public so that prompted you to believe he was a pain in the ass, hence why you had offered Max to come to you if he became too much to handle.

You just had a knack for helping fix broken things.  

“Yeah…she was…Until that thing took her. Just like it took Bob,” he said tersely before getting up to leave.

“Hey,” you called out, making him halt in his tracks. “Come here,” you beckoned him over with your hand and he approached you, kneeling down by your side.

“What is it? Are you feeling sick? Do you need me to call someone?” he blabbered and you smiled. It was sweet that he was concerned.

“I just need to talk to you about something,” you said as you took his hand and patted it, eyes shooting to look at Max who walked out of the house, seemingly in bad spirits, before you looked back at the boy. “Listen…I know that you probably feel like you’d be replacing El if you accept Max into the party…but that’s not how things happen, you know?” you told him softly, voice changing from whisper to low speaking to whisper again, and he looked at the floor. “The party is like a family. There is always room for expansion. The bigger the family, the more fun we get to have, the more precious moments we get to experience…the more support we get to receive. And Max? She’s-she is a great kid. She fits right in,” you let out a breathy chuckle. “I mean, we kind of accepted Steve, Nancy and Jonathan into the party after last year’s events and look how things got more interesting, no? But that doesn’t mean we’re replacing El because she’ll always have a very special place in the party…and in our hearts…Got it?” you asked as you tapped his nose and his lip twitched in a small smile before he nodded.

“Yeah…”

“Off you go now,” you patted his shoulder and he stood up, sparing you one last glance before going outside.

Not long after, the preparations were completed and everyone returned back in the house with the exception of Mike, Hopper, Jonathan, and Joyce who stayed to interrogate Will. The kids and Nancy were pacing and moping in the kitchen and the corridor while Steve joined you.    

“You think this is gonna work?” you asked and he nodded.

“Of course, it’s gonna work. What, did you suddenly lose faith in the plan?”

“No, it’s just…expect the unexpected, right?”

Just when you said that the lights began flickering like mad. It took them a couple of seconds to stop and sometime later, Hopper and the others barged into the house.

“What happened?” asked Dustin and you tried to lift yourself to get a better look only for Steve to squeeze your hand warningly and send you a scolding look which made you give up on your attempts and stay down.

“I think he’s talking, just not with words.”

“What is that?” asked Steve as he stood up to approach the table where everyone had gathered.

“Morse code.”

“H-E-R-E.”

“Here.”

“Will’s still in there. He’s talking to us.”

“I have an idea,” spouted your brother before he rushed to his room and then you saw him carrying the stereo outside.

“Steve,” you called out softly and the boy immediately knelt by your side. “Take me to Will.”

“What? No! You should be lying down.”

“Please,” you sent him a look and the two of you stared at each other for a while before he finally relented, letting out a long sigh and running a hand through his hair.

“Alright, hang on,” he instructed as he wriggled his hands underneath your form and lifted you very slowly.

“Harrington, what the hell are you doing?” snapped Hopper when he saw Steve carry you out of the house. “She shouldn’t be in any other position other than lying down!”

“Hopper, please,” you begged. “He’s my brother.”

“I mean, you can’t resist the puppy eyes, man, why do you think I’m standing here right now,” quipped Steve and Hopper rubbed his face and let out a long exhale, utterly exasperated.

“Alright, go in,” he opened the door and let you pass through.

Your eyes immediately fell on Will’s form and your blood ran cold at the sight of him tied up

“Hey, what are you doing here?” asked gently Joyce as she rushed to help Steve put you down on the chair in front of Will. “You shouldn’t be up and about, baby, you’ll hurt yourself,” she sniffed as she caressed your face and you gave her a smile.

“I’m fine, mama. I just…had to come talk to him.”

“I know…I know…”

“Will?” you finally faced your brother and your heart clenched for the nth time. “I know you’re still in there. I know you’re listening. And I want you to know something that I haven’t spoken about before. But once this is over, I will tell you of it again,” you began and Joyce, Hopper, Steve, and Jonathan shared a look as they focused on you and Will.

“There was that time…it wasn’t long ago actually, but rather recently…when me, mom, and Jonathan were all so busy with work and school that we barely had time to eat properly, much less cook. We could spare time to make you something but we kind of neglected ourselves. One night, me and Jonathan got home very late. Mom was already asleep and we thought you were too. But we were surprised to see the lights in the kitchen still on and you in there with an apron and everything. You had cooked us dinner,” you smiled through the throbbing pain in your abdomen and ribs, fiddling with your fingers and plucking finger skins as you tried to gather enough strength to keep going. “You scolded us for eating microwave food or skipping meals in general and forced us to sit down and eat. You were adorable. You prepared all our favorite dishes. Mind you, they weren’t perfect but we didn’t expect them to be since it was the first time you cooked by yourself. But it wasn’t the stomach they fed anyways. They fed the soul. Because the gesture, showing that you care and doing something for someone, is what matters most. And you kept doing it for quite some time, even when we stopped with the microwave food and me and Jonathan began cooking again. You still insisted on doing things for us. It began with the cooking, then you helped clean, then you began preparing my clothes for the day just so I can get extra ten minutes of sleep instead of wasting them on picking outfits and I gotta say, you have some great sense of fashion,” you chuckled as you shook your head and Will just stared at you intently, fingers tapping against the leg of the chair.

“You even began delving into history just so I had someone to talk to about those kinds of things. Because no one else is interested in that. Most are sticking with science and all so it gets a bit lonely to not have someone to brainstorm with about history, languages, and art. But you began learning just because of me. And that’s the kindest thing someone could do for another. And-“ you choked on your words and cleared your throat, swallowing the tears. “and, um…when you’d find me halfway passed out on the couch after those heavy doses of the special K, you’d make sure I was lying comfortably and covered nicely with a blanket. You even learned to make chamomile tea for me. To help me fight off stress and headaches,” you cleared your throat again as you rubbed at your eye and sent him another wobbly smile. “What I’m trying to say here is that…you’re my precious brother who is selfless and kind beyond belief. One-of-a-kind. And I don’t believe for a second that he’s gone.”

For a second there you could swear you saw his eyes shine and glisten. You could swear you saw a glimpse of Will but it was gone with the snap of fingers and you looked down in defeat.

“Hey…don’t despair. We keep on going,” whispered Jonathan as he caressed your head and you nodded.

“Yeah, we keep going, she gets back inside,” ordered Hopper as he nudged his head to the door, signaling Steve to take you out. “I don’t want to risk the wound reopening with all that moving and bending. Go.”

Steve didn’t hesitate to take you in his arms and follow the man’s command, quickly exiting the shed, and taking you back inside where he placed you back down on the sofa.

After that, you didn’t know how long it’s been since your mother and brother were in there, trying to get anything out of Will as you were dozing in and out of sleep, but at one point you were jerked into the world of the living when you heard the kids whoop in triumph and you strained your ears to listen to them.

“Close gate,” echoed all of them, and your face fell.

So in order to get rid of the monster you had to close the gate in the lab and before you did that you had to find a way to get that thing out of Will so he wouldn’t die in the process. You still had no idea whether you were connected to it or not because you still weren’t feeling any different but you really hoped you weren’t, otherwise, things would just get even more complicated.

“El…we need El,” you whispered and Steve – the only one being closest to you and able to hear – whirled around and gave you a look of confusion. You would have to explain to everyone that she was actually not dead and they would feel angry and betrayed and you really didn’t have the mental or physical capacity to deal with this right now so you were just going to leave this all to Hopper to handle.

Just then the phone rang, making everyone jump.

“Shit! Shit!” Dustin voiced what everyone was thinking as he went to open and close the phone. But it rang again and this time Nancy completely tore it off the wall and slammed it on the ground.

“Well that was unnecessary,” you scowled.

“Do you think he heard that?” asked Max.

“It’s just a phone. It could be anywhere. Right?” Steve tried to bring some positivity but even he was unsure.

As if on cue, the sound of screeching monsters echoed in the distance and it made everyone’s neck hair bristle.

“That’s not good,” drawled Dustin as he, Max, Mike, and Lucas rushed to look outside the windows.

“Uhm, anyone else think we should be getting the hell outta here?” asked Steve a bit panicky as he kneeled by your side, head darting to look at every occupant in the room.

“But they are so close! There’s no time,” exclaimed Nancy worriedly.

“Great! Then we’re all gonna die,” he quipped sarcastically.

“Hey! Hey, get away from the windows!” warned Hopper and the kids immediately moved away and went to the center of the room. “Y/N is there a room that doesn’t have a window?” he asked and you shook your head, making him curse under his breath. “Alright, alright…Harrington you can swing the bat, right?” he asked and Steve nodded, already adjusting the weapon in his hand. “Good. Now, who knows how to use this?” he showcased the shotgun and everyone shared looks before Nancy spoke up.

“I can.”

“Jonathan, you’ll be responsible for your sister. Stick to her side and stay behind the group,” he instructed him while handing the weapon to Nancy and the boy nodded. If the monsters were to storm in and attack, they wouldn’t harm Will because he was a host. But your situation was unclear and you were injured on top of all so you’d be the first to die, hence why you needed to be behind the protective line everyone was forming.

“C’mon. I know it’s gonna hurt but bear with me, ok?” your brother spoke gently as he put his arms under you and slowly lifted you. You winced as your hand went to grasp his shoulder, head buried in his chest. “I know, I know, it’s ok. I’m done,” he whispered in your hair as he stood up from the crouched position and moved as far away from the windows as possible, hiding behind Steve, Hopper, and Nancy.

The screeching and growling were getting too close for comfort and all of you stared at the windows, the doors, and pretty much every corner, expecting something to barge in. The tension and the fear were suffocating.

“What are they doing!?”

“Playing with their prey,” you whispered as you held tightly onto Jonathan and his grip on you strengthened.

Suddenly, a monster was lurched through the window making all of you jump, the broken glass flying everywhere as the creature landed on the ground and stayed there, unmoving.

The group cautiously approached the Demo-dog and all of you were shocked to see it was dead after Hopper nudged it with his foot and it still didn’t move.

“Holy shit!”

“Is it dead!?”

Then the door got unlocked and all of you snapped to look at it, making you wince as Jonathan jerked your body when he turned around sharply.

But when they saw who entered, everyone got numb with shock.

Everyone, except you and Hopper who felt mostly relief.

Eleven has returned.

You watched on happily, a smile growing on your face when Mike and El hugged, finally reuniting after a whole year of being apart, the two of them crying and letting out breaths of relief. It honestly made you tear up.

“I never gave up on you,” he told her once they pulled apart. “I called you every night. Every night for-“

“Three-hundred and fifty-three days… I heard.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were there?” he asked confused. “That you were ok?”

“Because I wouldn’t let her,” Hopper finally revealed and Mike’s face fell with realization as he backed away to make room for the man to get closer. “The hell is this? Where have you been?” he asked and she matched his energy.

“Where have you been?”

But there was no animosity between them, only concern and relief as they hugged.

“You’ve been hiding her…You’ve been hiding her this whole time!” yelled Mike as he hit Hopper’s arm and the man grabbed him by the collar.

“Hey!... Let’s talk…Alone,” he grit out and proceeded to drag the boy into one of the rooms.

Eleven watched them go before she finally turned to face the others and her eyes widened when she saw you in Jonathan’s arms.

“Y/N!” she gasped as she ran to you and you reached out for her, wrapping an arm around her and bringing her as close to you as you possibly could in this position, giving her a long kiss on the temple. “You’re…you’re hurt,” she gulped as she pulled away and saw the blood stains, eyes filling with worry as she grasped your hand tightly.  

“I’ll be ok. Don’t worry. But, I’m so sorry I didn’t come to check on you, baby,” you sniffed. “I left you all alone when I should’ve taken you with me and brought you here or something,” you apologized and she shook her head.

“It’s not your fault…and…I wasn’t home,” she admitted bashfully and you scrunched up your eyebrows in confusion.

“Wait…you knew about her too!?” exclaimed Dustin and you sent them an apologetic smile, making him and Lucas look at each other and throw their hands in frustration. “Wonderful! Did everyone besides us know!?”

“Hey,” muttered El as she neared the boys and smiled at them. “Don’t get angry…We’re together now. It’s all that matters,” she said as she hugged them and they returned it full-force.

While she got acquainted with the others, Jonathan brought you back to the sofa and let you lie down after Joyce brushed any shards of glass off it, adjusting you so you could be comfortable. The blanket had been wrapped around you the whole time so he only straightened it a bit and tucked you in.   

“Can you…bring me some water,” you cleared your throat and your brother nodded, heading for the kitchen. You could hear the boys catching up Eleven on everything that has happened and explaining to her the possible plans and outcomes. But you heard it all as background noise because all your focus was on your burning side area.

You shut your eyes and let out a shaky breath as your hand went to nestle itself on top of the wound. The pain was beginning to slightly increase and you were beginning to feel a bit out of it. But you didn’t want Jonathan or the others to notice. They had more important things to deal with right now and saving Will and closing the gate were the top priorities.

“It’s not like it was before. It’s grown. A lot…And I mean, that’s considering we can get in there. The place is crawling with those dogs.”

‘Use a decoy’ is what you wanted to shout at them but for some reason, you just couldn’t find the strength to do so anymore.

“I can do it.”

“You’re not hearing me.”

“I’m hearing you. I can do it,” spoke El confidently and Mike sighed dejectedly.

“Even if El can, there’s still another problem. If the brain dies, the body dies.”

“I thought that was the whole point,” joined Max.

“It is but…if we’re really right about this, I mean if El closes the gate and kills the Mind Flayer’s army-“

“Will’s a part of that army.”

“Closing the gate will kill him.”

“Harsh conditions,” muttered Joyce after a moment of silence.

“What?” asked Hopper and she whirled to face everyone.

“Back in the lab! Y/N suggested to Dr. Owens to create harsh conditions for the virus so it can’t survive within the host anymore!” she snapped her fingers and everyone’s eyes widened.

“Will keeps saying that he likes it cold,” muttered Jonathan.

“Exactly! We keep giving it what it wants!” exclaimed the woman.

“So we make the host uninhabitable…We need to burn it out of him!”

“But what about Y/N?” asked Joyce suddenly and everyone’s hopeful faces fell. “I mean, the doctor told us her examinations are similar, yet different to those of Will. What if-what if she’s also become a host?” she gnawed on her lip worriedly and Hopper shook his head.

“No, I don’t think that’s the case anymore. She would’ve shown symptoms by now. With Will it took shortly for them to show, right? She doesn’t share any of the symptoms he had.”

“Then what does this mean?”

“My best guess is that when she fell and hit her head down in the tunnels, particles, and slime from the vines got into her wound and probably spread through her bloodstream. Sure it was a minor head trauma that didn’t require stitches but the side of her head still got quite grazed so it might have gotten in through there and maybe that’s what altered the results,” he explained and Joyce tightened her lips, still unconvinced.

“If they are indeed connected, maybe removing the virus from the main host will automatically remove it from other hosts!” suggested Mike hopefully.

“So when we start burning it out of Will, it’s gonna show on Y/N too. That is if she’s also infected. We have to bet on this. We can’t move Y/N in her condition,” Hopper sent Joyce a look and she gave up, nodding her head.

“Then…I’ll take Will somewhere and burn that thing out of him.”

“You can go to my cabin. I’ll tell you which way to go,” offered Hopper and Jonathan waved his hand.

“Hold on! You can’t just go alone, mom.”

“Jonathan, you have to stay here with your sister. We can’t leave her alone.”

“She’s not alone,” intervened Steve. “I’ll be here. We’ll keep in touch the whole time and if something comes up I’ll tell you,” suggested the boy and Joyce looked at him for a while, hesitating, before she finally agreed.

“Ok…ok, then me and Jonathan will take Will and-and go to Hopper’s cabin. Honey, go fetch all the heaters that we have,” she instructed him and he bolted out of the room with Nancy on his tail.

“Me and the kid will head for the lab,” said Hopper. “The rest will stay here.”

“What? No way! Just the two of you? That’s-that’s dangerous,” barked Mike and Hopper rubbed his temple in frustration.

“Oh, really, and who’s gonna assist us in getting rid of the dogs? You?” he lifted his brows. “Or him,” he pointed at Dustin and then at Lucas and Max. “Or the slingshot over there? You’ll only be on the way. You’re staying here and that’s non-negotiable.”

“Hey, sweetie,” whispered Joyce as she knelt by your side and your eyes fluttered open although you found it hard to do so. “Hang on just for a bit more, hm? We’ll fix this very soon and everything will be ok,” she caressed your head and you gave her a small smile. Jonathan was there too, also smiling encouragingly at you.

There was hope in the air now.

It was refreshing.

You could almost see the ending of this all. You could feel it in the palm of your hand and you were ready to grasp it.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me,” you breathed out and she placed a kiss on your forehead while Jonathan took your hand and squeezed.

“We’ll be back soon.”

Afterward, everyone left the house, leaving you all alone inside.

You supposed they were all saying goodbyes to each other, wishing good luck to one another, that sort of thing. But you secretly wanted someone to come back inside already because the silence and the emptiness were making you very uneasy.

“Hey,” as if answering your prayer, Steve’s familiar voice sounded in your ears and you did a double-take, not even realizing that a couple of minutes had passed already and Steve and the kids had returned inside. For a moment there you thought you were truly getting delirious.

He plopped on the carpeted floor next to you. “I, uh…I know it’s irrelevant right now but…” he began saying but stopped himself, making you furrow your eyebrows.

“Whatever it is, say it. We can’t pass the time by just staring at each other, right?”

“Yeah, you’re right,” he chuckled lightly. “I just…officially broke up with Nancy,” he revealed and your eyes widened.

“What?... Things were really, not going well between you two?” you asked sympathetically.

“I think we just realized that we don’t actually love one another.”

The two of you fell into silence then. Steve was fiddling with his fingers as he seemed to be deep in thought and then he left your side to join the kids at cleaning up the place. Except they had gotten into an argument while cleaning because the kids had suggested a crazy plan to go out there and act as a decoy, draw the monsters out of the lab so Hopper and El could get through without a problem.

“And what? We’re just gonna leave Y/N here alone? Did you think about that? And once again, if we do this, we’re toast, dude. We’re dead!”

“But-“

“No, no, no, no, no! No buts. I promised to keep you shitheads safe and that’s exactly what I plan on doing,” he stated firmly. “We’re staying here. On the bench. And we’re waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?”

“This isn’t a stupid sports game!”

“I said does everybody understand that!? I need a yes.”  

You actually agreed with their decoy plan and you wanted them to carry it through because you didn’t want Hopper and El to face dozens of monsters on their own but you had no idea how you were going to convince Steve to go through with it. You let out a long shaky exhale as you shifted uncomfortably and tried calming yourself, focusing on dispersing the pain. But it wasn’t helping.

Everyone kept silent for a while before nodding in defeat and he threw the rag onto the table before going to check on you.

“Are you ok?” right after the words slipped his mouth he immediately kicked himself for asking such a stupid question.

“I’m fine,” you whispered but he marched to your side and put a hand on your forehead anyway. He frowned deeply at how cool and clammy your skin was. Then he rounded the sofa and knelt by your side.

“Steve?” you called out quietly, eyes closed, resting.

“Yeah?” he gently pulled the blanket and his eyes widened.

There was blood everywhere. It had seeped through the stitches apparently, staining a big chunk of the bandages and the tank top. His whole body ran cold as panic settled in his gut.

“If I die-“

“Jesus, sometimes you can be so dramatic. No different than Munson and Henderson, I swear,” he drawled, voice rumbling and reverberating lowly as he tried to compose himself, his hands shaking when he pulled the blanket back up to your chest, gulping a lump that had stuck in his throat.  

“Well, that’s an interesting pair if I’ve heard one…These two will get along,” a weak smile graced your features and he tried to fight back the welling of tears and find strength in his voice to keep it steady.

“Y/N, seriously, listen to me…You’re not going to die…ok? Not before I…” he let out a shaky breath. “-take you out on a date and…and do all the things I wanna do with you…together,” he finally confessed and you cracked your eyes open halfway, looking at him with shock.

“You want to take me on a date?”  

“Yeah…very much…and I know how that sounds and I-I know what you’re thinking right now and I know what you’re gonna say. I know it’s probably super awkward and outright ridiculous and it’ll probably ruin-“

“Steve, I love you,” you breathed out and his soft, panicked rambling ceased.

“What?”

“I love you…I’ve loved you for…a long time,” you revealed.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked gently.

“Cause I never thought someone like you would fall for someone like me…and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

“It’s exactly because it’s ‘someone like you’,” he then found the courage to place his hand on the side of your face and stroke your cheek, giving you a smile. You closed your eyes as you let yourself sink into the feeling and in the meantime, Steve’s smile faltered as he motioned for Dustin to come over.

The boy approached with a confused face and just before he was about to speak up, Steve signaled for him to call the hospital, lips forming the words silently. Dustin’s eyes widened when he saw how still you were and he immediately dashed to find a way to contact the hospital and let them know an emergency patient was coming in.

“What are…the things you want to do with me?” you asked timidly and his lip twitched.  

“Like…being able to push your hair behind your ear,” he began, “…dance with you slowly…hold hands…kiss you,” he whispered the last words as his smile melted once again and you opened your eyes only to see the worry in his as if he was afraid he had overstepped a boundary which was ridiculous considering you had just confessed.

“Why wait?” you asked breathlessly and his eyes widened.

You lifted your hand and beckoned him to get closer. He lowered himself slowly until your noses were touching. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes for a bit before you placed a gentle touch on his cheek and closed your eyes, prompting him to do the same. And then his lips brushed yours as if asking for permission one last time. You arched your chin higher which connected your lips more properly and he finally pressed his against yours in a sweet kiss.

Suddenly, the sound of a revving engine penetrated the silence, and everyone tensed.

“It’s my brother,” informed Max after she had run to the window to check. “He-he can’t know I’m here! He’ll kill me. He’ll kill us!”

“Hold on. Leave it to me,” said Steve confidently as he stood up and sprinted out of the house.

You called the kids to your side and they hesitantly left the window to come sit by you.

“We’ll just tell him that…you are helping me…ok? In fact…maybe I can convince him to stay with me while you go complete that plan of yours,” you suggested and their eyes widened.

“You want us to go through with it?” asked Mike in shock and you nodded.

“Mhm…it’s a good plan.”

Just then, the door was pretty much thrown off its hinges as Billy stormed in. His enraged expression quickly melted into one of shock and confusion when he saw you and the kids.

“Jesus, Hargrove. You wanna tear down my house or somethin’,” you drawled and he looked at the door, then back at you.

“The fuck is going on here?” he grit out.

“You want the long story or the short?” you lifted an eyebrow and his eyes darted between you and Max.

“Short.”

“I got attacked on my way home. The kids found me. They’ve been taking care of me since. Don’t blame Max for it,” you explained or rather lied, and his eyebrows shot to his hairline in surprise.

“And where are your brothers? Your mother?” he asked as he took a step forward, making Max and the others tense and fidget but you tried your best to keep your calm.

“They left for Indianapolis earlier today. Mom wanted to get Will checked by some specialist at their hospi-“ the words got caught in your throat all of a sudden as you felt a chilling sensation run through your whole body, making you quiver as your hand flew to your stomach, then to your mouth. Billy and the kids looked at you with confusion and concern.

“W-what is it?” asked Mike with wide eyes and you gulped.

“I’m…I feel nauseous,” you muttered as you closed your eyes and tried to focus on battling down the bubbling feeling.

“W-we need to get you to-to the hospital,” panicked Dustin as he scouted the room for Steve.

Meanwhile, Max pulled down the blanket and everyone scrunched up their faces.

“It’s hemorrhage,” snapped Mike worriedly and Billy clicked his tongue as he marched to the sofa, pushing Lucas out of the way, making him fall to the ground.

“Move your asses,” he barked at the kids and they scattered away from the boy who leaned and made sure to wrap your whole body with the blanket. You hissed when he moved you around and he simply told you to bear with it before lifting you in his arms. You groaned and buried your face in his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” bit out Mike and Billy glared at him.

“What does it look like?” he responded curtly before turning and walking briskly towards the door. “I better see you home when I get back, Max,” Billy warned the girl as he looked at her over his shoulder and she nodded shakily. You sent her a firm look without Billy noticing and she understood what you meant.

On your way to Billy’s car, you saw Steve passed out outside, face beaten and bloody. Your jaw clenched at the sight and you wanted nothing more than to punch the boy carrying you in the face and give him a taste of his own medicine but you knew that if you acted or said anything rashly and insulting, he might change his mind, leave you and go take Max and most possibly hurt the kids in the process because you knew they’d try to protect her. You were better off distracting him as long as you could while they went to do their part of the plan.

“If you bleed on my seat, you’re dead meat Byers,” he grunted out as he lowered you onto the passenger seat and adjusted your position.

“I’m sorry. Next time I’ll just walk to the hospital and bleed on the road instead,” you drawled quietly and he huffed in amusement.

“You’re a different kind of stubborn, ain’t you,” he shook his head as he shut the door before circling the vehicle to get in the driver’s seat.

You were fairly surprised to see him drive slowly for the first time ever. He probably didn’t want to jerk your body and cause more harm to the wound with rash movements which was weirdly considerate of him.

“So you do have a heart,” you let out a small smile and the boy snorted.

“Believe it or not I’m not the kinda person to walk away from someone who’s dying.”

“Hmm…could’ve fooled me for a second.”

Silence engulfed the two of you for a while and he had to shift his gaze from the road to you, to make sure you haven’t actually died. But you were simply thinking about many things. For one, you never thought you’d end up in Billy’s car as he drove you to the hospital in order to save your life after severely beating the boy you loved. It was one of the weirdest things to happen to you – almost as weird as being attacked by inter-dimensional monsters two years in a row. 

 “You know…I remember the first time we met,” you finally spoke and he lifted a brow, clicking his tongue in annoyance.

“If you wanna rub in how you rejected me, I’ll just throw you outta the car right now.”

“No…it’s not that…It happened after the party,” you tried to keep your eyes open and slightly turned your head to look at him. “You won’t remember…you passed out.”

“Did I,” he drawled.

“I stayed till the end…everyone was passed out from drinking…You were…on the verge…stumbling towards the bathroom. You could barely stand,” you paused to take a breath and gather some more strength. You were starting to feel really tired and sleepy. “I don’t know what prompted me to do it…I helped you reach the bathroom…I made you throw up cuz I was scared you’d get alcohol poisonin’,” you slurred and he furrowed his eyebrows as he tried to remember that night but his memories were bleary. He did remember someone’s voice, talking to him in a painfully blinding white room. He had thought it was some kind of hallucination. He did remember waking up in a bathroom a couple of hours later so you were telling the truth. It’s not like you had a reason to lie anyway.  

“Uh, thanks for that.”

“You mumbled somethin’ in your state… somethin' bout your mom,” you revealed and his eyes widened. “It wasn’t clear but… you sounded…hurt.”

“Shut up,” he grit out as his grip on the wheel tightened.

“Look…I just wanna say…you don’t…always need to be this…tough, macho, jerk…ok? If you reach out…and if you try to be just a tad bit kinder…you might find good people reaching back…good people to surround yourself with…Every person needs that,” you breathed out as you sent him a knowing look and he stared at you for a while. Your gaze held power, wisdom, and kindness he’s never seen or experienced before. Neither had he experienced someone presenting him with such an offer. You stared at one another, almost as if you had fallen into a trance before he averted his eyes back to the road.

A minute later, which seemed way too long for the both of you, he was parking in front of the hospital and rushing out of the vehicle to call for help. A group consisting of doctors and nurses came and carefully lifted you out of the seat and set you on a gurney.

“Stay?” you whispered with pleading eyes before you were rolled away and Billy could only watch as he stood rooted on his spot. He contemplated whether to leave or not. He didn’t owe you anything and he already did enough by bringing you to the hospital. He just wanted to get somewhere far away and not think for the rest of the night. Hopefully, his date hadn’t abandoned him.

But then he thought about what you had told him on the way. He had no idea that you had witnessed him in such a vulnerable state and he wondered what were the words he had let slip back then that you would think of him as someone who was hurt. And he wondered how much did you manage to piece together from that little slip-up? He was angry and frustrated beyond belief but at the same time, his heart and gut clenched at the kind words you had offered. Nobody has been kind to him. And now he was battling heavily with himself and he had absolutely no idea how he was supposed to feel or what he was supposed to do.

But in the end, he concluded that maybe taking it all step by step was the best thing he could do for now.

So he’d start by staying.

#stranger things #stranger things x reader #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader #steve x reader #steve harrington fanfic #billy hargove x reader #will byers x reader #jonathan byers x reader #hopper x reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson fanfic #reader #reader insert

[absurdthirst]

The Election {Max Lord x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10k

Warnings: People being assholes, comments about physical appearance, politicians, public sex, protected sex, public scandal

Comments: Meeting Senator Max Lord in the diner where you work one night leads to a very unusual arrangement. Sex behind the building. Changing both of your lives in a very real way. 

A/N: Thot based off this filthy gif but is no way representative of the reader. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

You sigh, wiping down the table after the teenagers had effectively thrown every single fry on the floor and squirted ketchup all over the table. You had told them to stop but they just laughed at you before they left. They didn’t leave a tip. You toss the dirty rag into the bowl in the kitchen, leaning against the counter just beside the window that looks out into the diner. “You’ll never guess who just sat down in your section.” Sally says, appearing through the swinging door, and you frown, turning your head to look into your section. 

“Who’s that?” You frown. 

“Senator Maxwell Lord. He’s running for re-election.” Sally declares and you scoff, adjusting your apron. 

“I don’t follow politics.” 

Sally sighs, “you should. He really is dreamy. Single dad too. It’s hot. A powerful man.” 

You snort, “sounds like you should go serve him.” 

Sally shakes her head, “no. Hopefully he tips well. You need it more than me. Go.” She orders and you push on the door to make your way over to your section, approaching the Senator sitting at the table.

Max sighs and looks down at the menu, the selection here a lot better than the greasy spoons he has been visiting while he’s been on the campaign trail. Bypassing the burgers because he didn’t want to have anyone, mainly the man sitting opposite him, commenting about the cholesterol or how unhealthy he was eating. The California grilled chicken sandwich looks good but he damn sure is going to get the fries. “Now we have a campaign stop tomorrow morning and we need to make sure that you make an appearance at the children’s hospital. Kiss a few sick kids, make a donation that is in full view of the cameras.” 

Max rolls his eyes at his campaign manager, shaking his head at how callous he sounds, visiting sick kids for political visibility. “No.” He tells him. “I will donate privately and you can photograph me going into the hospital but if the parents don’t want their kids photos taken, that’s it.” He warns the overeager man. “No persuading them. Those kids are sick and shouldn’t be exploited for votes.” 

You walk over, brushing down your apron, and you pull your notepad out, grabbing the pen from behind your ear. “Good afternoon.” You tell the two men your name before asking what they want to drink. “Diet Coke.” Both men say and you nod, “no problem. I’ll be right back with those and then I’ll take your order.” The dark eyes of the senator focus on you and you find it a little hard to breathe with how handsome he is. Clearly well groomed with his expensive suit and watch that costs more than your car to appear in charge and ready to lead. A true politician.

Watching you walk away, Max ignores the assessing hum of the other man as he admires the curve of your ass. It’s been a long time since he’s really noticed a woman. First he was going through his divorce and then it was lack of availability. Anyone around him was off limits, he wasn’t going to be that kind of politician. No matter what, he didn’t want a sex scandal undermining the kind of change he was trying to bring about.

You bring the drinks back, setting them down and ignoring the appraising look from the man in the blue suit. The kind brown eyes are deceptive considering his career in politics. “What can I get you to eat?” You ask. 

“Are you on the menu?” The blue suit man winks and you offer him a tight smile. 

“No. I am not. Only food available in a diner. I can tell you the specials though.”

He’s already decided what he wants but he smiles at you, the charming one that he uses on the campaign trail set aside for one that is grateful and almost hesitant. “Please.” He just wants to hear you talk, enjoying the way your voice sounds. “Your specials. What you would eat here.”

You are a little taken back, “oh, okay. Um, the specials are a double cheeseburger with bacon and a fried egg served with fries. We also have a meatloaf with mashed potatoes and a red wine jus. I could go with the burger.” You tell the senator with a wink.

He gives you a slow smile, enjoying the butterflies that erupt in his stomach at your playful wink. “Then I’ll have the burger, no mayo please.” He asks, “but I wouldn’t mind extra ketchup.” He winks back at you just as playfully. 

You offer him a soft smile, sensing how charismatic he is, and you write down his order just as his companion says, “I’ll have the grilled chicken salad. Maxwell. You shouldn’t have the burger. You need to watch your weight. Maybe the waitress should too.” His blue eyes look at you, and your jaw drops. 

“Excuse me?” You balk. 

“Just sayin’ you might want to cut out the burgers and maybe get a boob job. Might get you out of this shithole diner.” He shrugs. 

You scoff, “I’ll put your order in and maybe I can find the number of a dick extension doctor. You seem like you need one.” You snort, spinning on your heel to head into the kitchen, absolutely fuming at the audacity of the man.

“Jackson.” Max shakes his head at his campaign manager and frowns. “What the hell are you doing?” He huffs. “That was completely uncalled for, you- you know what?” He leans back and stares at the man. “Go back to the bus and make sure my speech is ready for tomorrow. I’ll get your food to go and bring it back to you.” Jackson huffs and argues with him for a few minutes but Max is adamant and the other man shuffles out of the restaurant. 

You come back with the plates, still annoyed at the prick in the suit. “Where’s your friend? In the bathroom looking at himself in the mirror?” You ask, setting the senator’s burger down in front of him before you slam the chicken salad down on the table.

“He’s - he’s not my friend.” Max shuffles slightly and bites his lip. “I want to apologize for him, he’s my campaign manager and was completely out of line.” He apologizes. “What he said was wrong, you don’t need to lose weight, or a boob job.” He flushes when he realizes what he said and flusters. “I- I mean…You are perfect - perfectly fine just the way you are.” 

You fluster at his words, his dark eyes are kind and you know you’re going to look him up when your shift ends. “Uh, thank you. Ketchup is over there.” You point at the bottle, “and I can pack up the salad for your…campaign manager. I just - I hope you don’t have the same morals as him. Especially if you’re gonna be representing this state.” You tilt your head.

“Well, I’ve already been representing the state, but I hope to continue to do so.” He admits. “But no, I don’t have the same morals as he does. I want to be honest and transparent with what I can do for my constituents and what I hope to accomplish for our state.”

You bite your lip, “I- I don’t really follow politics. I didn’t - I didn’t know who you were until my coworker told me.” Your confession has you glancing around the diner. “I’m just saying you might want a new campaign manager. One who isn’t an asshole.”

Max chuckles and leans back in the booth, throwing his arm along the back as he appraises you, enjoying how you speak your mind. “You know any good ones?” He asks, actually delighted you didn’t know who he was or have ten thousand questions that he needed to carefully answer so he wasn’t misquoted. “I wish we could just skip all the b.s. and just run off our principles.” 

You chuckle, “unfortunately my Rolodex of campaign managers is empty. Surely the world would be a better place if politicians just told the truth? Although I doubt the population wants to hear it. I just don’t get involved in politics, I have too much of my own b.s going on to care.” You tell him honestly, “I’ll let you eat your meal.” You realize he hasn’t touched his burger.

“Again, I’m sorry he was an ass.” He tells you as he reaches for the bottle of ketchup. “The burger looks delicious and I’m sure you are busy enough without taking up more of your time.” He knows you have other tables, he actually enjoys that he isn’t special. Right now he is just a patron eating a burger. 

You nod, walking away from him and you can feel his eyes on you. “Sooo how is the senator? Think he’s gonna leave a big tip?” Sally asks, and you chuckle. 

“No. I- he’s…sweet. Not what I expected. His campaign manager is a dick but he’s nice. He seems like he actually wants to do some good.” You say as you lean against the counter and Sally raises her eyebrows. 

“A politician who seems nice? Alert the media.” She jokes.

It’s rare that he isn’t wolfing down his food or having a working dinner. So it’s honestly a treat to be able to take his time and eat. He can’t help but watch you though. His eyes find you around the diner as he watches you go about your tasks, refilling drinks and serving customers. You are graceful and quite frankly beautiful. It’s been a long time since he’s met a woman so pretty and he’s honestly finding it hard to look away from you. 

You eventually come back around to grab Max’s plate, taking it before you look down at him. “Looks like you enjoyed it.” You tease, glancing at the empty plate. He blushes a little and you think it’s cute. He’s cute. Sally said his wife had divorced him, too focused on her own career to go on the road with him.

“I did.” He nods and looks around. “I will have to bring Alistair here. My son.” He clarifies with a small smile as he thinks about the boy. “He loves a good cheeseburger and I spotted milkshakes on the menu.” He chuckles. “He would want a double chocolate.” 

You smile, “you’ll have to bring him by. Cheeseburger and chocolate shake.” You tap your head, “I’ll try and remember in case you come back. Here’s your check.” You tell him, setting it down. “There’s no rush. Your…campaign managers salad has been wrapped up. I’ll give it to you when you leave.”

The bill is reasonable, and he wants to make sure that he leaves a good tip, especially because you had to deal with Jackson’s bullshit. Max digs out his wallet and slides the bills under the check and stands. Catching your attention with a smile. “I’ll take that box for him, even if he deserves to starve.” He jokes and gives you a tiny wink.

You nod, grabbing the takeout box with the salad from the counter. “Hope he doesn’t choke on the lettuce.” You snort flippantly. 

Max offers you a wry smile, “knowing him he won’t eat it and will have a cigarette instead.” 

You roll your eyes, “of course. Well…good luck Senator Lord.” You offer him a smile and he nods, “thank you.” You watch him leave, biting your lip as you realize how broad he is, and you wonder if he will be back. Shaking your head, you make your way over to the table, grabbing the check and when you cash it out, your eyes widen when you see the fifty dollar tip. “Holy shit.” You curse, eying the money before you put it in your apron, torn on whether to accept it or not. You know he’s gone so you won’t be able to return it. Maybe you can donate it. You need the money but this is a lot. Deciding to figure it out later, you get back to work.

Max thinks about that burger all day, deciding that he’s going to order them back to the diner from yesterday, he walks over to the driver. “I want to go back to the restaurant from last night.” He tells him. “Just me and one of the security guards.”

You look up as the bell rings above the door, your eyes widening slightly when you see Senator Lord walk in with a buff looking man wearing a suit - his security you’re assuming. “Hey. Table for two?” You ask, grabbing a couple of menus.

Shaking his head, Max gives you a smile. “No, Gunther doesn’t like sitting with me.” He tells you. “He’ll sit at the bar and order nothing, just to make himself seem more intimidating.” He jokes, knowing the man will at least order a coffee. But he doesn’t eat while he is out with Max so he can be alert. “I had to come back for another burger.”

You chuckle, setting one menu down before you guide Max to a booth in your section. “Diet Coke?” You ask, and he nods, smiling at you. You love how he blushes a little when you take his menu, his fingers brushing yours. “So you left me way too much money last time.” You say as you set his drink down after submitting his order to the kitchen. You take the money out of your apron and set it down on the table.

Max frowns and looks down at the money before he shakes his head and pushes it back towards you. “I know how much I left. You deserve it.” He murmurs, nodding towards it. “You were a lot more graceful than you should have been to my campaign manager and I know you work hard - like everyone in the service industry.”

Your jaw drops slightly, taken back by his genuine response. You know that most politicians would pull the same act to try and win over another voter but the gesture seems genuine. You pick up the money and tuck it into your apron, tilting your head at him. “You don’t seem like most politicians. You seem…real. Is that genuine or are you just that good an actor?” You ask, deciding to call him out on it.

Laughing at your brazen question, he shakes his head. “Not an actor.” He promises, giving a small shrug. “I grew up poor, very poor. I just know how the little people struggle while everyone else overlooks them.” He explains. “My mother cleaned houses and would cry if her clients would even leave an extra five dollars to tip her. It meant she could eat lunch that week too.”

You are taken back by his answer, figuring he’d been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. You smile at him, “not what I expected but I’m glad to hear you are not one of those upper class assholes looking to make money while pretending to work for his constituency.” He chuckles and you smile again, “I’ll go get your burger when it’s ready.”

Max looks around then diner again, watching a family have their meal while they interact with their two kids. That’s what he wants to work for, a family. The average people who just want to live a good life and raise their kids in a safe world. His own son counted amongst them.

You come back over with his burger, grateful your shift is nearly over with how bad your feet are aching, and you set it down along with the bottle of ketchup, remembering what he said about wanting extra. You look at him for a moment before you fluster, a little lost in his dark gaze, before you walk off to get him another refill on his soda.

When you bring the soda back Max motions to the seat across from him. “Sit down?” He asks, slightly shy but wanting to have you sit with him for a bit. “The diner isn’t very busy and I’m enjoying our banter.” If you say no, he will respect that, but he hopes you don’t. 

You glance around the diner, seeing it’s quiet and your shift is nearly over, so you nod and take a seat. “So…must be lonely on your campaign bus, going from city to city.” You observe, noticing the dark circles under his eyes.

Max nods. “Living in hotels or on the bus for weeks at a time isn’t as glamorous as you would think.” He admits. “I miss the simplicity of just sleeping in the same bed every night.” He chuckles. “It actually makes me miss D.C. when we are in session.” He jokes.

You chuckle, “wow. Must be bad. Guess it’s worse when you don’t have someone traveling with you to share your bed at night.” You are a little forward but you think he’s cute and honestly? It’s been a while for you. Not since your asshole of an ex cheated on you.

“Don’t I know it.” Max groans before he stops himself. He clears his throat and blushes slightly and looks away. “I just- there aren’t a lot of opportunities to meet someone new and I refuse to be another senator to has a fucking sex scandal to take away from the real issues.” He explains, hoping you don’t mind the language that slips out.

You hum in agreement, taking note of his broad shoulders. “What if - what if you were guaranteed that no one would know?” You ask cautiously, waiting for his reaction while you lean forward, offering him a glimpse down your button down dress the owner wants you to wear.

Max’s eyes drift down to your cleavage and then back up to your face. “I’m a red blooded man.” His voice is raspy, thicker than it had been before. “I’m not opposed to sex, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of the women that work on my campaign or my staff.” He clarifies. “I meet a beautiful woman and sex happens…well, hopefully she enjoys herself.”

“And if I say that my shift ends in ten minutes which seems to be enough time for you to eat and perhaps, you could come find me outside after you’ve paid your check?” You ask casually, tilting your head at him. He’s hot, the raspy tone in his voice has your thighs pressed together, and you can’t deny the thrill of fucking him without anyone knowing except the two of you is exhilarating.

Max blows out a breath, cock twitching and he watches your eyes to make sure your offer is genuine. “I would say that I will see you outside in 9 and a half minutes.” He promises, looking down at his food with a grin. “Maybe even nine minutes.”

You grin, “see you in nine minutes Senator.” You wink and stand up, swaying your hips as you walk away from his table without looking back. The next nine minutes drags by and you watch the seconds tick down as he scoffs his burger, eagerly slapping down some cash when he pays. You giggle, walking over to him to grab the bill. “Meet me outside in the alley.” You whisper, leaning closer as you pick up the cash. “Change?” You ask breathlessly. He shakes his head, barely able to breathe, and you smirk as you carry the check over to close it out before you clock out.

Max walks over to his guard and murmurs in his ear. All of the team that surrounds him have NDAs so he doesn’t have to worry about the man talking. The worst he could say was the the senator had sex with a woman in an alley. All consensual, but in public. Still, he needs to be aware of where Max is going. He nods, telling Max that he will be in the car. Swallowing, Max exits the diner and walks around the back, already starting to harden at the mere prospect of touching you.

You shove your apron in your locker and grab your purse, shouting a goodbye to your coworkers before you make your way outside to the alley where Maxwell is waiting. It’s dark outside now, the moon in the sky and it gives an intimate atmosphere to your rendezvous despite being by the dumpsters.

Max looks up from where he was staring at the condom in his hands, watching you walk up to him. “Lucky I had one of these.” He jokes, holding it up and biting his lip as you walk closer. “Fuck, you look pretty.” He groans. “Thought so from the very beginning.”

You stride towards him, loving how sweet he is and the fact that he has a condom in his wallet is endearing. He probably had to check it wasn't expired.  You grip the back of his neck, dragging him towards you. "You're too fucking cute. Want you to fuck me, use me for your frustrations." You order before pressing your lips to his.

Max groans, quickly kissing you back and reaching up to cup the back of your neck to press into you. It’s been years since he’s had sex, as shameful as that is. His ex was the last woman he was with, concentrating on his career and Alistair when he has him. However, his body definitely remembers what to do, quickly pressing you against the wall of the diner and kissing down your throat, his hands sliding under your dress.

You gasp when he nips on the skin between your neck and your shoulder. “Fuck, Max.” You moan, snaking your hand between you to cup his hard cock through his expensive slacks. You whimper when his hands squeeze your ass, pulling you against him. “Want- want your fingers.” You confess, grinding against him.

His fingers dip under the band of your panties, practical cotton, but to him they are sexy. Parting your curls, his thick digits slide through your folds and he moans when he finds your clit and starts rubbing as he kisses down your chest and his teeth graze the top of your cleavage. “God.” He breathes out. “So fucking pretty.” 

Moaning, you grind down onto his fingers, and you unbuckle his fancy belt, flicking the button his pants before you can reach in to grip his cock. “Fuck. You’re so thick.” You moan, pulling him out of his pants. His fingers work your clit and you are breathless at how good it feels already.

Groaning at your hand on his cock, he throbs for you. “Shit.” He hisses. Quickly twisting his wrist so he can sink two fingers into your thankfully wet cunt, he licks the top of your bra, wetting the white material and your skin underneath it.

“Oh God. Max, that- that feels good. Gonna make me cum.” You whine, grinding down onto his fingers and your grip on his cock slackens. It’s been so long since you had something other than your own fingers. “Fuck. Oh shit.” You hiss, trying to keep quiet as you clamp down on his thick digits.

He smothers his own whine against your skin, keeping his fingers pumping and moving in your gasping cunt. “That’s it. That’s it.” He croons quietly. Marveling at how tight you were squeezing them and soaking them with your pleasures. Your top finally opens and he bites down on your nipple over the material of your bra and sucks harshly with a groan as he works you through it.

You squeeze his cock, ready for you and you are now ready for him. “Come on baby. Want you inside of me.” You beg, gently pushing him back before you reach into his jacket pocket for the condom. Ripping it open before you roll it down his length.

Max groans and pushes you back against the wall. He reaches down and grips your leg and lifts it up over his hip. “You want me inside you, baby?” He asks, grasping his cock and starting to guide himself towards your cunt as you move your panties to the side.

You keep your panties to the side, gasping when he pushes into you. “Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.” You hiss, tilting your head back as he fills you up, stretching your walls. “Max. Max, baby. Fuck me.” You plead, gripping his neck.

Shuddering at the feel of your nails digging into the back of his neck. Making him hiss and drag his hips back to snap them forward again, burying his cock back in your heat. “Fuck.” Growling, he leans and presses his lips to yours while starting to thrust in and out of your cunt.

You cling to him, pressed against the wall as he thrusts into you with a hiss. “So good Max. Feel so damn good. I- I want - I want more.” You murmur against his lips. Rocking up onto your tip toes so he can thrust deeper into you with a moan. “God yes. Yes. Right there.” You groan when he hits deep to find a delicious spot inside of you.

One hand holding your legs, the other braced on the wall, Max tries to keep hitting that spot with every jolt of his hips. Moaning and grunting at how you tighten around him. He’s not done anything like this in forever and it feels like fucking Heaven. “Jesus, fuck.” He pants, leaning his forehead against yours while you take his cock again and again.

You reach up to cup his cheeks, bringing his mouth back to yours as you get closer and closer to your orgasm. “Fuck. Fuck. I’m gonna- Max. Maxxxx.” You squeal against his mouth, clamping down on his cock as you cum.

Max pants out your name, nearly whining it as he continues to rock into you, working you through your high. The loud sounds of your fucking practically echoes around the small area you are tucked into. “Shit.” His hips stutter and he can’t only give another four or five thrusts before he is burying himself deep and filling the condom with his seed with a moan of your name.

You caress his neck, loving the way his jaw clenches as he rocks his way through his high before he stills inside of you. "God, that was good." You sigh, kissing his nose, unable to help yourself when you've imagined it far too many times.

“Yes it was.” Max’s breathing starts to slow down as he enjoys the last moments of closeness before he carefully grips the base of the condom and pulls out of you. Putting your leg down and taking it off to tie a knot in it before throwing it in the dumpster. “Going to sleep like a baby tonight.”

You chuckle, "I bet you are. I'm happy to serve the state." You wink at him and reach out to pull him close one last time, pressing your lips to his. "So...uh, I guess you gotta get back?" You murmur, shifting from one foot to the other. It's a little awkward now the lust has been satiated.

Max nods, hating it, but he does have to strategize and call Alistair in the morning before school. “Do you need a ride home?” He asks, wanting to spend a few more minutes with you if he could.

You shake your head, "no. I can get the bus. I'll be fine." You tell him, picking your purse up from the floor and you turn to look at him. 

"You aren't taking the bus." He insists and you shake your head. 

"I- I don't have a car. I can't afford a car." You tell him, biting your lip.

“Then let me take you home.” Max implores. “Please.” He wants to make sure you get home safely and he knows that the public transportation can take forever to get you where you need to go. “Get you home quickly and into a bath with a glass of wine before you would normally be home.” He adds, trying to sweeten the offer.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure if you should accept the ride home and make more of this than it really is: a hook up. You smile and nod, “that sounds wonderful. Yes, I’d like a ride home.” You lean closer to kiss his cheek.

“Good.” Max smiles and puts his hand on your back as the two of you walk down the alley. If Gunther is surprised to see you with Max, he doesn’t show it. Opening the door, Max motions for you to climb into the back seat of the SUV before he climbs in beside you. “I’m glad you let us take you home, it’s getting late.”

You glance out the window before you look back at Maxwell. “I’m used to taking the bus. I- my car broke down and I couldn’t afford to fix it so I had to change to taking the bus. If I end up doing a night shift, I usually just walk home because the bus isn’t running.” You confess, knowing it’s not safe but you don’t have any other options. You tell the driver where to go.

“Jesus.” Max shakes his head, knowing that if he hadn’t insisted on taking you home that you would be walking home. “I- my schedule is tight but I can send the man who works on my cars over to look at it?” He offers, wanting to help however he could. “Otherwise, I would look at it myself.” You give him a startled look and he chuckles. “I worked my way through college working in a mechanics shop.”

You tilt your head, “you did? Wow. You are way more than you appear, Maxwell Lord.” You reach over to take his hand in yours. “Thank you. I- I would really appreciate you doing that. I- I need my car back. Pepper spray only goes so far.” You chuckle awkwardly and squeeze his hand.

Max squeezes your hand back, proud of being able to help you. It’s a good feeling almost as good as the first time he had signed a bill that became law. “We’ll make sure you don’t have to worry about that from now on.” He promises. “He’s a miracle worker with cars.”

You kiss the back of his hand after lifting it to your mouth. “You’re a good man. You’ve got my vote.” You joke, offering him a wink before you give the driver another direction to turn onto your street. Thankfully you didn’t live too far away from the diner.

Max honestly wishes you lived farther away so he could spend more time with you. Instead he feels the car pull to a stop, turning to see the older apartment building. He could tell that it wasn’t newer but hopefully the owners kept up with maintenance. “Well, I take it you are home. I hope you have a good night.” He offers softly.

“You too. I’ll see you around Senator Lord.” You offer him one last wink before his driver opens the door to let you out and you make your way into your builder. 

Gunther meets Max’s eyes in the rear view mirror after the car is rolling down the street. “You know Jackson is gonna kill you for this.” Gunther warns his boss.

Max gives a small shrug, a smile playing on his lips. “Let him try.” He murmurs. “She is exactly what I needed tonight and Jackson needs to remember he works for me, not the other way around.” He looks back towards your building behind him and huffs. “Might be my new favorite place to eat.”

“The diner or the lady?” Gunter jokes, making Max blush and look out the window. He knows he will be back, it’s just a question of when. 

****

It’s been three weeks since you saw Max and you can’t help but think he got what he wanted and now he’s never coming back. You ignore the questions from your coworkers, all of them guessing he kissed you, none of them daring to assume he fucked you in the alleyway.

You don’t divulge the dirty details, wanting to keep your secret romp with Max just that to preserve his integrity and yours. However, with each day that passes, you can’t help but want to talk to someone about it to get some advice. You don’t have the man’s phone number and even if you did, he’s on the road so much you’d probably go straight to the answer machine.

Max sighs, tired after three weeks on the road. He has been to several diners that reminded him of yours, but his spirits lift when he sees the sign for the little greasy spoon he has come to dream about. More specifically the alleyway behind it and the sexy yet sweet waitress. 

Smiling when the bell rings out when he opens the door, the woman closest to him turns to greet him. “Can I sit in her section?” He asks, nodding to where you are bringing out plates to a table of what looked like truckers. “Please.”

You turn your head to see Max walking towards you and you can't stop the silly smile that appears on your face. You might've been scouring the tv guide and local news for any interviews with him and you had thought about him every time your hand was between your thighs. "Here you go fellas." You tell the truckers, setting their meals down before you walk over to the table Max sat down at. "Hey stranger." You smile, "Diet Coke and a burger?" You guess.

Max’s grin is answering your own, but there is a devilish twinkle in his eyes. He nods, leaning in. “It will have to do for now, since what I want isn’t exactly on the menu.” He murmurs where no one else can hear him. He has been thinking about you probably every day, definitely every time he had his hand wrapped around his cock. “So I guess I will have to stick with the food.” He winks at you playfully. “How have you been?”

Your stomach twists in anticipation about what he really wants and you bite your lip. "Not too bad. Busy with work as always. Been thinking about this senator...he does this amazing thing with his hips." You whisper with a smirk, writing down his order. "I'll be right back with your soda." You wink, walking away and swaying your hips until you feel his gaze burning into you.

Gunther is at the bar again, sitting there as Max admires your figure. He had immediately told the guard that he wanted to come to the diner over the objections of his campaign manager, but he had just ignored that. He was free from any meet and greets, town hall meetings or campaign trail stops for the next week and he had wanted to see you before he did anything else. Hoping that you weren’t too upset that he hasn’t been in. He had forgotten to give you a number to reach him at. When you bring the Diet Coke back he notices that you don’t seem as tired. “So I heard that my guy was able to get your car back on the road for you.”

You hover near his table, nodding and offering him a smile. "Yes. Yes. He was great. It's so nice to have my car back. I wanted to reach out to you to thank you but I didn't have a number for you." You confess, shifting from one foot to the other and you look into those dark eyes that have haunted you. "Thank you. Really, you - you have no idea how much easier my life is now I don't have to take the bus or walk."

“I should have given you my number.” He’s happy you don’t have to worry about getting home from work now. He had not been thrilled about you walking home alone at night, and it was something he had told his guy when he sent him over there. Get your car on the road no matter what it costs. You didn’t have to worry about the bill, he would have paid it, but luckily it was just a spark plug. Although he had gone through the car to check more than that and did a tune up on it for you. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a card. “Personal number’s on the back.”

You carefully take the card from him, admiring the gold, and you bite your lip. “I’ve never had the personal number of a senator before.” You tease, tucking the card into your apron. The truckers call you over, asking for more coffee, and you glance back at Max before you go to grab the pot. After satisfying the truckers, you grab Max’s burger and set it down in front of him. “How’s your son?” You ask, wanting to extend your time together.

He grins, thinking about his son. Despite the divorce and his ambitions, he wanted to be a good father to Alistair. He chuckles. “I’m going to go pick him up tonight. Have him spend the night and take him to school tomorrow.” The campaign trail was hard because he spent a lot of time away from him, not wanting to drag him away from his routine, despite what Jackson wanted. His son wasn’t going to be a pawn to get votes. “Pizza and the newest movie he wants to watch is on the menu.”

You grin, “membership card to Blockbuster, huh?” You snort, imagining Max in his pristine suit picking out a movie with his son. “I like that you put your son first. Not many fathers would do what you do and still try to be present for their child. I, uh, I like you. A lot.” You confess, biting your lip as you look towards the table of truckers who are leaving after paying their checks.

“I like you too.” Max answers easily. “A lot.” He sees the money on the table and jerks his chin over to it. “Go pocket your tip.” He urges you. “I’ll be here when you get done. Until you have a break even.” He tells you, voice slipping a bit lower and rougher. He wanted to see you mostly, but now that he’s seen you, he wants to touch you again. 

You shiver at the roughness in his tone, nodding before you make your way over to the now empty table, pocketing your tip before you clean up the plates. Once you’ve finished wiping down the table it’s time for your break and you see Max has finished eating. “Come on baby. Meet me in the alleyway.” You whisper as you walk past, waiting for him to follow you.

Max gets up, making like he is going to go down the hallway and use the bathroom. Gunther sees him of course, smirking to himself and the senator as he walks by. But Max doesn’t pay him any attention, eager to meet you in the alleyway despite it being broad daylight.

You giggle when Max slams the door open and grabs you, pressing you up against the wall, his lips immediately finding yours. You moan into his mouth, gripping the lapels of his expensive jacket, his tongue sliding into your mouth when you gasp. The door to the alleyway swings open and you push Max away when his security guard appears. Maxwell turns his head to look as Gunther lights a cigarette. “Just want to make sure no one watches. Carry on. I am gonna have a smoke.” He says, turning his back.

He waits for you to protest, to tell you that there is no way that you can have sex with him while his security is here. When he doesn’t hear a sound of protest, Max chuckles and leans in to kiss you again. “Thought about you for three weeks.” He groans, biting down your throat again. He has a condom in his pocket again and he presses his hard cock against your hip. “Tell me I can fuck you? Tell me that you’ve been thinking about it.” He begs quietly.

You whine, “yes. Yes, please. You’re all I’ve thought about. I’m wet just thinking about how you felt inside of me.” You confess, reaching down to grab his hand. You slide it under your dress to your panties, showing him how wet you already are.

Max groans, pushing the fabric aside so he can slide his fingers through your slick folds. “Fuck.” He pushes a finger inside you. “You want me to fuck you right here again?” He asks. “Make sure you come back to work feeling good from cumming?”

“Yes. Yes. Want- want you to fuck me. You- you felt so good last time.” You pant, pushing his hand out of your panties so you can push them down, turning around after pulling your dress up. You look over your shoulder at him, “please Max. Fuck me.”

“Fuck.” Max hisses and pulls the condom out of his pocket to put between his teeth, tearing at his belt. His cock is already aching to be buried inside you. A quick glance at Gunther’s back ensures the man is watching for the two of you as he rips open the foil wrapper and quickly rolls the rubber down his length.

You gasp when the head of his cock nudges your clit before he notches the head at your entrance, pushing into you in one thrust. “Fuck. Oh fuck Max. Feels so good. Already. Feels so fucking good.” You moan, trying to grind back onto him as your forearms are scratched by the brick wall.

Gripping your hip, Max moans his agreement. “Fuck.” He hisses, pulling back to surge into you again. “Jerked off thinking about this, about you.” He confesses, grinding deep and loving the way that you clench around him. Your panting moans make him want to cum right now but he wants to make sure you cum before he does.

“Never felt like this before. Always - always faked it but with you - it’s real. You make me feel so good. Fuck my pussy so good.” You lean forward to rest your forehead against the cool brick, spreading your legs a little wider so he can fuck into you. “Yes baby. Yes. Harder. Need more.” You beg and reach back to grip onto his hand on your hip.

Pride rises in his chest, making him give you his cock exactly how you want it. Hard and deep thrusts into your cunt, pushing you into the wall make him start panting. “Y-you feel f-fucking incredible.” He gasps out. “So so tight, h-hot.”

Your cheek scratches against the brick but you don’t care, too obsessed with the way he is grinding into you, fucking you into next week. The sound of his hips hitting your ass echoes in the alleyway but Gunther just continues smoking his cigarette as he keeps watch.

“Fuck.” He hisses, one hand sliding under the bunched up fabric of your dress to reach around you to start rubbing your clit. The audaciousness of it, a senator fucking his waitress in broad daylight in an alley, but he fucking loves it. Loves the way that you are so eager for it, the way that you want him. “Cum for me.” He groans into your ear, nibbling on the shell.

You let out a strangled groan when his fingers rub your clit, making you cry out in pleasure when you clamp down on his cock. He actually makes you cum - something your other lovers couldn’t claim. “Yes yes yes. Max. Oh shit!” You shriek, legs shaking as you soak him.

He pants raggedly in your ear, the hold your body has on him makes his teeth grit. Moaning with you as he rocks into you. Now that he has made you cum, he can cum himself. “Good.” He rasps out. “S-so fucking good.”

When he cums, he bites down on your neck and you love it. Reaching behind you to tangle your fingers in his styled hair, messing it up delights you. "Cum for me Max. Cum." You plead, squeezing his cock.

Max whimpers, letting go of the thin control he has and with one more thrust he bites down on your neck, aware that your co-workers might see the imprint of his teeth and not caring. Grunting and grinding into you as he pushes his release into the condom until he finally stops moving and kisses the spot on your neck while he tries to catch his breath.

You sag against the wall, closing your eyes as the pleasure continues to wash over you. “So damn good. Every time.” You sigh, shifting so his cock slides out of you and you turn to wrap your arms around his neck, pressing your lips to his.  “How about a milkshake to go?” You ask, “for Alistair?”

“That would be perfect.” Max kisses you again. “Thank you.” He murmurs softly, smiling at you before he starts to tuck himself away.

You dispose of the condom and adjust your dress, stepping away from him before you turn towards the back door of the diner. Gunther is still standing with his back to you until Max tells him to turn around. You head back inside, unaware of his teeth marks in your neck until your coworker mentions it. “Just making out with the Senator.” You joke, working on making Alistair’s chocolate milkshake.

Max walks over to pick up the bill and walks over to hand you some money when you turn back and have the milkshake ready. He’s paying you far more than necessary but he wants you to make sure you have a good day today. “Thank you.”

You offer him a wink and a smile, “you’re welcome Senator Lord.” You take the money, eyes widening slightly at how much extra cash he’s given you. Sally eyes the money, glancing between you and Max before he nods and walks out with the milkshake. “Seems like you have an admirer.” Sally comments and you shrug, “he’s just being nice.”

****

It’s  been nearly two weeks, and Max is practically obsessed with seeing you. He has been to see you every day you work and the two of you always end up behind the diner, wrapped up in each other. The only time he hasn’t had sex with you was the night that he brought Alistair for dinner, promising the boy he would take him to where he got the delicious milkshake from. He had loved how you had interacted with him; making him even more sure that you were someone he wanted in his life. Walking through the door, he nods to the other waitress and moves over to your section to sit down. 

Sally calls out your name, “Senator Lord is here.” She tells you and you can’t help but look in the mirror in the hallway, checking your hair and you stride into the diner, smiling when you see Max sitting in his section. “Hey stranger.” You coo, sliding in to sit opposite him. “Burger?” You ask and he nods. “How’s Alistair?” You inquire, scribbling down his order.

“He’s good. He aced his math test.” Max crows, a proud papa of his son. “My son is bright, already learned the next section of the class, the teacher thinks he needs to be put in an advanced class.” He looks you over with a soft smile, imagining you helping him with homework. “How are you? Anything new going on with your neighbor?”

You shake your head, “no. No. He’s still got the television blaring at all hours of the day despite me telling him to turn it the fuck down. I’m sick of hearing the buzzing noise when the channel goes off air.” You roll your eyes as you reach out to brush your leg against his. “I, uh, I applied to go back to school. Finish up my classes…finally.” You fluster, biting your lip. You’ve saved the money Max gave you, deciding to put it towards something that will get you out of the diner.

“That’s great!” Max grins, proud of you for deciding to do something for you. From the time he has spent with you, learning about you, he’s come to find that it’s rare for you to do something that benefits just you. “Let me know if I can help in any way, you let me know.” He offers, meaning every word of it.

You want to reach for his hand but you can’t. You’ve never really discussed what you are or what it is that you’re doing. All you know is he comes to have a burger and then he fucks you. Probably an amazing deal for most men. You can’t help but want more. A proper date to dress up and eat with him instead of rushing off to get another person’s meal. “Thank you.” You tell him, meaning every word. It’s unusual for you to ever have support like this…not since your mom died. “So…I’ll go put your order in.” You tell him, not noticing the giggles coming from the women on the next table over from Max, the morning newspaper on the table.

Max frowns when the giggling and whispering continues, but he doesn’t pay much attention. Too busy watching you as you check on your customers. You are so sweet and kind to people, even when they are rude. He plans to try to come up with the nerve to ask you out. It’s laughable, he’s able to fuck you, but he can’t ask you out.

You grab the sodas for the table of women after putting in Max’s order, and that’s when you see it. A photo of you and Max in the alleyway. Clearly having sex, your mouth open as he pressed you against the wall with Gunter standing in the background. You squeak, grabbing the paper, and the women look up at you. “Who knew we had the Senator’s whore serving us?” One of them says and you stare at the photos.

Max hears the comment, immediately jumping out of his booth to confront them. He doesn’t understand why they would say that but he quickly understands when he sees the paper in your hands. Striding over to see the picture that has you frozen in horror, he closes his eyes and hisses a curse. “Shit.” He opens his eyes and glares at the women. “Calling a woman a whore isn’t very feminist of you.” He scolds, gently taking your shoulder. “Come on, we need to talk.”

You nod, heart pounding in your chest, and you are worried about what he is going to say, wondering if he is going to  blame you or throw you under the bus. "Max. I-" You choke when you are in the alleyway once more. The paper seems to be burning in your hands from where you still hold it. "I'm - I'm so sorry."

Max shakes his head, hating how mortified you seem. “I am sorry.” He murmurs, taking the paper from you and sighing as he cups your cheek. “This is my fault. I should have known this could happen.” He’s ashamed of how he had never even gotten a hotel room for the two of you or taken you out to dinner. “I’ll protect you from the media as best I can.” He promises.

You shake your head, "no Max. You can't. It will destroy your career. You need to blame this on me. Tell the media I offered myself up. Tell them I - I came onto you and you, being a man, couldn't resist. You'll be the hero. I- I will be branded a slut but they will forget about me. I'll be forgotten after the next scandal comes out. You need to win this re-election for you and for Alistair. Blame it on me." You plead, cupping his cheeks.

“No.” Max is adamant about that. There is no way that he is going to blame this on you. “I should have-“ he breaks off and shakes his head. “I should have done things right. Taken you out on a date or at least gotten a fucking hotel for this.” He gives you a sorrowful work. “I didn’t even have sex with you in bed.”

You chuckle, shaking your head, “no. No. It was - fuck. It was perfect. It was clumsy and messy and just - it was us. No expectations or drama. I liked it. I loved it because…fuck Max. I - I think I’m in love with you.” You finish with a whisper, stomach twisting with nerves.

Max stares at you for a moment, amazed that you aren’t screaming at him for getting splashed across the front page of the paper. Instead you are confessing your feelings for him. “I had planned to ask you out today.” He confesses. “Want to take you out. Have someone wait on you for a change. Would you still want to maybe do that with me?”

You bite your lip, “do you want - you want to be seen with me after that?” You ask, gesturing to the newspaper. “It’s not gonna be easy Max. Are you sure you don’t want to just…blame it on me and say it’s all me? It would be a hell of a lot easier for you.” You sigh, crossing your arms.

Max shakes his head. “I wouldn’t do that. I- Jackson might be pissed but I’m just going to admit that I should not have been in a public setting, but that it was an intimate interlude with the woman I love.” He tells you, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You inhale sharply at his confession, a silly smile on your lips as you look at him. “Then let’s go to dinner.” You surge forward to press your lips to his, hearing the photographers approaching when they are shouting your way and suddenly you’re engulfed by cameras. “Max?” You choke, clinging to him.

“Shit.” Max wraps his arm around you and curls you towards him, holding up his hand towards the throng of reporters. 

“Senator Lord! You’ve been adamant that you run a clean house, what do you have to say about this scandal? Sex in public.” 

Max shakes his head. “No comment.” More questions are hurled towards the two of you as he shuffles the two of you towards Gunther, who is pushing his way through the cameras and bodies. “No comment at this time.”

You press yourself against Max as Gunther guides you to Max's car through the throng of vultures and you exhale shakily when you are inside the back of his town car. "I- shit." You choke, trying to ignore the way they are banging on the windows as the driver pulls away. "Shit. My purse is in my locker. I haven't finished my shift." You tell Max despite your hands shaking.

“I think your boss will understand.” Max murmurs, hugging you to him and rubbing your arms to calm you down. You are trembling and he hates it. “We will go back to my house. I’m sure Jackson is there, ready to berate me, but I don’t care.” He promises. “I’ll call your boss when we get there, make sure they understand.”

You nod, leaning into him to breathe in his expensive cologne. You close your eyes until you are arriving at Maxwell's house. Somewhere you have never been before. It's big and fancy - not that you expected anything less- and it's overwhelming when you walk inside to see the marble floors and gilded gold. It's a far cry from your shabby little apartment. "Your home is beautiful." You whisper, lost in the extravagant decor.

“Thank you.” Max keeps you close, his hold on you tightening slightly. This wasn’t the way he wanted to bring you over, but there was no changing what happened now. 

“Max!” He frowns and turns his head towards the study door where Jackson is rushing out, his campaign manager obviously aware of what the papers posted by the look on his face.

Jackson looks at you and you prepare for the onslaught of thinly veiled insults. "You - you are fucking fantastic." He tells you, "you are - our poll numbers are through the roof. You wouldn't believe - they love that Max is with a working class woman. They love that he seems...normal. You are a fucking saving grace." Jackson says, holding his hands up towards you.

Max huffs, completely thrown off by this. He had been expecting Jackson to hit the roof, not look at you like the golden goose. “Right.” He chuckles, rolling his eyes and leaning into you. “Of course you are happy with polling numbers.” He clears his throat. “I want the paper to issue an apology for publishing her name though.” He tells Jackson. “They were wrong to do that.”

“I agree, but there’s no such thing as bad news Maxwell. It’s fucking - we will ask for an apology but then you gotta take her out on a proper date, show them you can be a gentleman and it will be a proper Cinderella story. We will make sure that she is all dolled up - designer of course - to show the public she’s more than a quick fuck. She is more than a quick fuck, right?” Jackson asks Max.

He purses his lips, not liking the term ‘Cinderella story’ because he never viewed you like that. “Yes, she’s more than a quick fuck.” He assures his manager. “But I don’t want to doll her up in designer anything unless she wants it.” He turns to you to explain. “I don’t want you to think you aren’t good enough exactly as you are.”

You shake your head, “no. I, uh, I don’t want to be seen as a gold digger. I’ve never asked Max for any money. I’ve always worked hard for what I have and that’s not going to change. I want to go back to school. Get my degree and be on my own two feet.”

Jackson groans with pleasure and shakes his head. “I told you- I told you she was perfect when we met her!” He crows over your answer and completely ignores the fact that he has said quite the opposite. “Just make sure you say it just like that when you sit down with the reporter we are going to get to do a story on you and Max.” He grins. “This is going to be good!” His eyes widened in happiness. “I need to start making calls! Max is going to get re-elected thanks to you!”

****

“Please welcome Senator Lord and his beautiful new wife.” You squeeze Max’s hand, unable to believe you are at his election party. You had gotten married just before the election, unable to wait since you were impatient to be his wife. You’ve gone back to school, working on finishing your degree and you are an excellent stepmother to Alistair, growing close to him after you and his father were official. 

You have been the talk of the election cycle, giving interviews and photoshoots with Max. It’s been exhausting but after leaving the diner, you are able to focus on what works best for you and Max. You enter the room, loving the cheers of his supporters, and he guides you to the dance floor. 

“Can I have this dance?” He asks softly. 

“Always.” You answer, letting him pull you close. 

“Max. I have something to tell you.” You murmur after he sways you to the music. 

“What hermosa?” He asks. 

“I’m pregnant.” You whisper, a smile on your face.

Max gulps, his face breaking out in a wide smile and he lunges forward to press his lips to yours, much to the delight of his followers and the people who had worked tirelessly to get him elected. 

“I love you.” He promises against your lips. “I love you so much, Mrs. Lord.” 

He can’t help but be absolutely amazed. Stopping in a diner for dinner one night has led to this moment. He’s remarried to a woman that loves him and adores his son. He’s been re-elected to serve his constituents and try to make the world a better place for everyone, including the new baby you are going to gift him with. Life couldn’t be better.

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#pedro pascal #max lord #maxwell lord #max lord x reader #max lord x f!reader #max lord x you #max lord imagine #max lord smut #max lord fanfic #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x f!reader #maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord smut #maxwell lord imagine #maxwell lord fanfic #maxwell lord wonder woman 84

[daddyhausen]

idk if you’re taking requests but if you are i’d love a mjf x fem reader smut fic!

of course ! i miss max so much !!

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

• “i hate everyone but you” — mjf •

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ masterlists } | { aew masterlist } | { mjf masterlist }

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ summary } —kind of enemies to lovers. max was never one to show his emotions, yet alone allow himself to be vulnerable, especially around you, the one he cares for the most

.*•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•*.

{ warnings } — 18+ { minors do not interact }, fem!reader, public sex, oral sex { male receiving }, throatpie, multiple orgasms, male + female orgasms, penetrative sex, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

{ word count } — 2.9k

{ genre } — enemies to lovers, smut

.•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•.

{ taglist } — @boutmachines @thewrestlingbitch @omg-im-such-a-masochist @baysexuality @chrisdickinson @cuzimacomedian @wardlow @sammiejane22 @april-jeanette-wagner @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @omegasluvbot @damnnhausen

{ comment if you want to be added to the taglist }

.•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•.

he stood from afar, simply watching with a brooding stare, a scowl permanently etched on his lips whenever he was even in the same vicinity as you. a stare of malice, jealousy even, it had been the same since your arrival in aew, for the past three months, not so much as a word spoken in your direction, no eye contact, a simple shove with his shoulder to drive you out of his way whenever in passing with each other. but that’s who max was, a cold-hearted bastard, it did not seem to phase you. 

to be truthful, max was indeed jealous of the attention you were receiving, you were the same age, mirrored in accomplishments within the business, worked around the world in various promotions and match types, all like him, but why? why was it you gaining all the praise, all the adoration, and not him? 

in the last month or so, his hatred only seemed to spiral, although he was unsure as to why. when he saw another male colleague interact with you, it only seemed to make his blood boil, but… it shouldn’t…he should not feel this way, let alone even care that he did…he hated you, or at least that's what he tried to convince himself. 

max paced down the hallway, back to his locker room after a particularly gruelling match against his former hired muscle, wardlow. he was in pain, from the copious amount of powerbombs, muscles sore and bones feeling like they were about to snap, even more so furious that he lost the entire match. he turned a particularly sharp corner, too enraged to even notice yourself and chuck taylor engaged in conversation in the middle of the corridor. he did not care, making a beeline past you and chuck, shoving you in particular with his shoulder, much harder than he would usually, as he broke up your conversation, an act which made the kentucky gentleman seethe with frustration.

“the fuck’s his problem?” chuck scowled, mentioning to max who slammed his locker room door shut, a sound that seemed to shake the very foundation of the arena. 

“you good?” he quickly peered back at you, noticing you were now leaning against the wall, fists balled with anger at your sides, although he was more worried about your shoulder considering the force max slammed into you with. 

“i’m fine” you muttered, straightening out your shoulder “i don’t know what it is but frankly it’s starting to piss me off”

chuck huffed, one out of disappointment on max’s behalf, mimicking the way you leaned against the wall on your shoulder, arms folded across his chest. frankly, max had been a proverbial thorn in everyone’s side since the day he showed his face in the company. 

“you want me to beat his ass?” he quipped, the sudden statement caused a small chuckle to emit from your lips. 

“i’ll handle it” you remarked making your way towards max’s locker room 

“let me know if you change your mind” you gave a small salute in thanks in response before practically kicking max’s door in. you saw him all by his lonesome, back facing the door, slouched in the folding chair that was positioned in the middle of his locker room, not even acknowledging your presence or the fact that you almost ripped the door off its hinges upon entry. 

‘what the fuck is your problem?!” you bellowed, the sound virtually echoing around the small space, causing the walls to rattle. max turned to you, still in his ring gear, beads of sweat gathering in his hairline, glossing his skin. he was more stoic than you expected, he eyed you up and down for a moment, eyes scanning your figure, how pissed off you were at this very moment, months of rage built up within you all releasing on his sorry soul.

“what are you on about y/n-”

“don’t play dumb with me, max!” you interrupted, your tone rather harsh, words masked by venom “ever since i arrived here, you’ve been nothing but an asshole to me! why do you hate me?!-”

“i hate everyone!” max stood up, swiping at the chair that he had been previously sitting on, sending it halfway across the room, crashing into the wall with a sickening ring of metal against brick. it took you by surprise, the sudden rage that spilled from him, it almost made you press your back into the wall out of fear, but you held your ground, a furrow in your brow and a scowl across your lips. he took a second, peering down at the ground in an attempt to calm himself and catch his breath. “but …i don’t hate you” 

“your action’s speak otherwise-”

“well i don’t alright!” he cut you off once more, inhaling deeply, fingers tugging at his hair, dragging his palms down his face in frustration. “you don’t understand how frustrating it is to be madly in love with someone and not know how to express it! you think i like being mean to you?! it’s eating me up inside because i don’t know any better! so no, i don’t hate you…i hate the way you make me feel”

you stood there stunned for a moment, simply blinking in disbelief, the maxwell jacob friedman, the man who has been silently tormenting you for months, had just poured his heart out to you. you’d never seen such vulnerability from him, on the outside he was nothing but an overconfident prick, but behind those eyes, hidden deep beneath those dark mahogany irises, he just wanted praise, wanted to be loved and adored.

max was an intriguing figure, you must admit, he was handsome, confident, sometimes too much for his own good. dare you say you might be attracted to him more than you’d like to admit, especially after that sudden confession he just poured out. 

“you…you love me?” it was all you could muster through the film of disbelief still fogging your brain, as stupid as it sounded. butterflies seemed to erupt in your stomach, shivers burning under your skin. max stood there dumbfounded at your response, blinking absentmindedly for a few seconds like you had done moments prior.

“what , do you want me to spell it out for you?” max quipped, although with a bit of a sulk to his words. god would it kill him to not be an asshole for five minutes?! 

“you really have a way with words, don’t you?” max simply rolled his eyes at your comment, retrieving the chair that he had previously thrown across the room, resuming his seat, facing away from you. 

“now you can go back to hating me, or whatever…” he slumped back into the seat, sounding far more repressed than you’d ever heard him. for once, max was quiet, reclused, it was so unlike his normal brash, abrasive persona you’ve come to love to hate. you pursed your lips, a soft exhale escaping your nostrils, quietly and carefully making your way toward him, taking a seat on his lap, arms wrapping around his neck lightly, his eyebrows furrowed with genuine confusion at your sudden action.

“yes, you may be an self-absorbed, egotistical, asshole-” 

“tell me something i don’t know” he scoffed at your comment, inadvertently cutting you off. you shot him an unimpressed look, one of which made him quiet down really quick.

“and despite you being a massive pain in my ass, more than i’d willingly admit…i still don’t hate you, max. i never hated you. funny enough, it might be the reason i felt so drawn to you” 

max’s arms snaked around your waist, a protective grip tightened, pulling you close into the warmth of his bare chest, his breathing had subsided, just basking in the comfortable silence that slowly settled over the room.

“so what you’re saying is that you love me too?” mahogany browns peered up at you playfully, a gentle smile creeping across his lips. 

“of course i am, you idiot!” you playfully slapped his chest in response

“i don’t know, doll. looks like you’re gonna have to prove it to me”

“doll? you’re bringing out the pet names already?”

“just shut up and kiss me”

the kiss was very much obliged. you hands cupped his cheeks softly an act which he seemingly melted into, the subtle scratch of his facial hair against the soft palms of your hands, the way he moaned sweetly into the kiss, it seemingly only enhanced his grip on you, pulling you closer onto his lap, palms anchoring your hips to his, slowly rocking them back and forth against his evidently growing bulge. his finger tracing shapes though your shirt, teasing, toying as they snaked under the fabric, feather light touches against your soft skin. 

you clung to him, arms wrapped around his neck, nails digging into the tops of his shoulders. the sensation rousing in your belly wasn’t foreign in the slightest. to be truthful, this specific feeling never seemed to quell around max, it merely heightened no matter how much you tried to suppress it, bury it deep into the furthest recesses of your mind, evidently it would always expel within the confines of your hotel room hours later. with max, it felt right, despite your limited interaction, he’d barely laid a finger on you besides the tight grip on your waist yet it left you soaking wet. 

“doll, please…”  he muttered against your lips after a particularly rough swirl of your hips. he pulled away for a moment to breath, a small moan erupting from his lips at the lack of contact. he was not one to hesitate, initiating the first move, he pried you from his lap, fingers instantly toying with the buckle of your belt, removing it with haste, swiftly moving to your jeans, tugging them down halfway then residing back in his seat, palming his growing cock through his gear, all the while you removed the remainder of your clothing. 

he gazed upon your naked frame, taking his time to observe every curve and crevice of your perfect form. from the way your hips dipped inward slightly, the curve of your waist, leading up to your breasts, so full and round, so perfect. he kept his gaze fixated there for a moment, wetting his lips in anticipation, it was no secret that he was staring, mouth hung agape, jaw practically on the floor.

“are you just gonna keep staring or are you gonna fuck me?” your response caught max off guard temporarily, blinking in disbelief for a moment, a thick gulp rising in his throat. never in a million years did he think you’d have such a confident, flirtatious tongue on you. then again, he did not know what to expect from you, first you burst into his room with the right mind to murder him, the next you’re about to ride his cock. once subtly regaining his composure, he reached into his wrestling trunks, freeing his thick cock, merely mentioning for you to sit. 

“that depends…” he spoke up, hand firmly wrapped around his erect shaft, slowly beginning to pump himself in waiting “are you gonna be a good little slut for me?”

there he was, the asshole decided to front again. you simply rolled your eyes at his statement, instantly dropping to your knees between his thighs, peering up at him through a lens of faux innocence, batting your eyelashes, looking all angling despite the scenario. you took his size in your palm, licking a hot stripe against the underside of his shaft, an act which made him shiver in his seat, nails digging into his exposed thighs, a choked exhale leaving his lips as you lightly sucked at his tip. 

your cheeks hollowed, slowly lowering your lips down his shaft, watching his every movement, every gasp, every grunt, each time he’d throw his head back or mutter some obscenity out of pleasure. you kept up this façade of innocence as your lips settled at the base of his cock, his length sitting comfortably in the back of your throat. now would be the perfect time to thank god for not having a gag reflex. slowly, you began to bob your head, keeping your rhythm smooth to aid in his pleasure. though your eyesight obscured of him, the sounds leaving his lips were enough to let you know exactly how much he enjoyed the scenario.

“fuck…” he grunted through clench teeth, his jaw starting to spasm from how tight it was clenched. he kept his hands firmly on his thighs, still debating whether or not to touch you. you just looked too stunning beneath him, mouth full of his cock, he surely did not want his hands to obscure the sight. however, you pried your hands up from your sides, grabbing his left wrist, placing it behind your head, almost clasping the back of your neck, a silent plea for him to apply some pressure, to push your head down so that you would choke on his size. 

he obliged, adding some force, loving the new sound of you choking and sputtering around him, spit bubbling around the corners of your lips, dripping down your chin and onto his thighs. it was now when his his started to buck, groans ripping through his throat, so much so that he almost forgot that he was still in his locker room, effectively lowering his tone slightly. he could not hold on for much longer, he never knew a mouth could feel so heavenly, like he had ascended and was no longer on this place of living. he took hold of the back of your skull, hips thrusting up to meet the movements of your mouth, using your throat as his own personal fleshlight. 

he kept his noise to a minimum, simply enjoying the sounds that spilled from your throat, echoing and reverberating around the locker room. he wasn’t subtle in his words either, praising you with everything he had, how well your mouth felt, how deep you take his cock, it was just enough to send him over the edge, filling your cheeks, coating them in white.

he motioned you upward with a simple wave of his finger, beckoning you to stand. you did so, licking clean some of his seed that spilled onto your plump lips. your palms braced against his shoulders, in a sudden movement, he grabbed hold of your hips, tightly squeezing the supple flesh between his fingers, dragging you onto his lap. he was silent, not purposefully, still recovering from that wonderful orgasm he received moments prior and because he knew he would not be able to control himself once he entered your sweet cunt.

you lowered your hips down, pretty cunt stretching around his cock, an act which made him audibly exhale before you silenced him with a heated kiss. those arms once wrapped around your waist now resumed their position, squeezing you tightly against his chest, using the momentum of his hips to fuck you senseless, so much so your had to bury your face into the crook of his neck, muffled moans spilling out onto his skin. 

“be loud, doll. i want everyone to know how good i fuck you” he growled in-between jagged breaths, moans soft and sporadic against the skin of your collarbones. you were hesitant with your volume, after all you weren’t even a hundred percent sure that poor chuck was still not awaiting your return, you hoped he left to go find one of the other best friends. with a particularly rough thrust from max, you could not help but let a cacophony of moans spill from your lips, the breaths in between filled with a string of profanities

“fuck max-” you whined through choked moans, clinging to him, crying out in pleasure. he held a death grip on your waist, thrusts vicious, almost animalistic each time he pulled you down onto his cock. his grunts were low in your, intentionally to draw more attention to your pleasured screams, they resonated within the locker room, ringing in his ears like a choir of corrupted angels, he was determined to corrupt you further. 

still with quiet groans in comparison, he gave a final thrust, hips bucking upward with such delicious force as his warmth seeped deep inside your soaked cunt, his thighs shaking from such intense pleasure coursing through him. he relaxed for a moment, letting the remainder of his seed fill your void as you continued to fuck yourself on his cock, riding him like a bitch in heat, tits bouncing inches from his face. his cum seeping from your sweet pussy, down his shaft, all the while you rode him until release. 

the final moments before your release was pure bliss, your hips circling violently, feeling his cock slip in and out of you with ease, his name so lovingly spliced through a chorus of moans, orgasm rising in your belly, the outline of his thick cock in your skin, it was all far too much for you to handle any longer. with a final twitch of your hips, slamming down, burying his cock deep inside you, juices gushing down your thighs in sweet, heavenly release. your body shaking with such profound arousal, warm and content in your position on his lap. he let out a blissful sigh, completely enamoured with the situation, keeping you still, relaxing into the feeling. 

“still hate me now?” you giggled breathlessly.

“oh, fuck you!”

“you just did!”

.•…………………..•⊹•…………………..•.

#{ my fics : 🤍 } #mjf #maxwell jacob friedman smut #maxwell jacob friedman x reader #mjf x reader #mjf smut #mjf imagine #maxwell jacob friedman #aew #wrestling smut #wrestling imagine #aew wrestling #aew fanfiction #aew imagine

[kittyofalltrades]

Lockley Smokes

You trade Jake your last cigarette.

Words: 1774

Rating: Explicit 18+ ONLY MDNI

Beta: @welcometostayingawake (THANK YOU!!!!!!!!!!)

WARNINGS: Light degradation (slut), PinV, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), semi-public, Jake Lockley (yes he is a warning), Smoking (one puff from a light cigarette mentioned)

Your legs ached as you followed your partner up the stairs to his private rooftop garden after your last job was done. You hated how far it was; a whole elevator ride and two flights of stairs just to get some peace around here. Jake always made it worth it for you, though. The sight of his ass filling out his too-tight pants walking in front of you was always worth the trip. You knew you shouldn’t desire Jake Lockley, but the man was undeniably gorgeous. Nice ass, great body and a Spanish accent that led you to think he knew exactly how to use his tongue.

Jake reached the top of the stairs in a hurry to unlock the door and hold it open for you. Ever the gentleman, the sentiment made you want to roll your eyes since you wanted to do very impolite things to him and you were sure he knew it, too. You stepped around him onto the terrace, making your way to your favorite lounge chair in the warmth of the setting sun. The one you knew he bought and set up between the two rose bushes just for you to come and relax in.

You watched as he furiously patted his pockets, and you gave him a questioning look.

“Lost my cigarettes,” Jake growled in frustration. “That was my last pack, too.”

You almost felt sorry for him. Not getting your nicotine fix was the worst feeling and something you could relate to. You reached into the pocket of your skirt and pulled out your own pack. The action pulled Jake’s eyes to yours in a second and you flashed him a triumphant smile. You opened the box, prepared to share just to find one left. 

“Sorry bud, last one,” you told him.

“Oh, come on! All the times I’ve saved your ass, don’t you think I deserve your last smoke?” Jake was trying to charm you.

“What’ll you give me for it?”

“I’ll give you another one later.”

“Nope! That's tomorrow’s problem.”

“I’ll go buy you a pack right now.”

“Then why don’t you do that instead of trying to take mine?”

You could tell Jake was getting annoyed with the back and forth and it made you grin at him.

 “I’ll give you something to wrap your lips around,” he grumbled, making your ears perk up.

“You’ll give me something to wrap my lips around, huh?” you asked. You leaned back in your lounge chair and spread your legs suggestively while you gave him a once over, letting your eyes linger over his crotch. When your gaze returned to his face, he was giving you a wolfish grin.

“Sure, putita, I’ll give you my cock right here,” Jake answered with a glint in his eye.

“What does putita mean?” you asked as you climbed off the lounge chair and strolled over to him, offering the last cigarette. 

“I’ll tell you when you’re sitting on my cock.”

He took the cigarette and clasped it between his lips.

You had to inhale deeply at how sexy he looked with his lips wrapped around the cotton filter, and wondered how he’d look in between your thighs. He sat down in his own chair and spread his legs in invitation. You climbed into his lap, knees on either side of his hips facing him, feeling his already hard cock trapped between your bodies.

“You’re gonna want to slip those pretty panties of yours off,” Jake ordered.

From your pocket, you produced a pair of lacy panties and passed them to him with a devilish grin. “You were rushing me and I didn’t have time to put them on,” you told Jake by way of excuse.

It was the truth, after you cleaned up from the mission he’d been so desperate for a smoke that you’d barely pulled on your clean top before he was banging on your changing room door. Your skirt was long enough that you wouldn’t flash anybody, so you hadn’t worried too much.

Jake shoved his hand under your skirt, reaching and reaching until he found your completely exposed cunt. He dragged a finger from your clit to your slit, surprised to find your hole dripping. “Shit, putita was the right word for you. Already soaked and I haven’t even touched you. Bet that pretty pussy will slide right onto my cock, no problem.”

You shifted back and made quick work of his belt and buttons to free his cock. You pulled his cock from his pants and marveled at the picture-perfect specimen in your hand. Long and thick, with a thick vein running down the middle had your mouth watering. 

You stroke his shaft a few times before lifting yourself up to take him into your heat. 

“Are you sure you can handle all of me without prep?” Jake asked with a challenging look.

“Let’s find out. I love a challenge,” you answer with a grin. You impaled yourself on his cock with a loud moan echoing from you both. He was bigger than you expected and his cock was stretching you almost to breaking. You held still for a minute to adjust to his size and give him a chance to light his cigarette. Once you felt a bit less pain, you started rolling your hips against his while breathing out little whimpers and moans.

“Knock that shit off,” Jake growled, making you freeze.

“You said–”

“I said I’d give you my cock - not that I’d fuck you,” Jake replied. He turned his head to exhale and blow at a cloud of smoke. “How long have you been wanting my cock, slut?”

“I’m not a slut,” you huffed.

“You traded your last smoke to be stuffed full of cock. What does that make you?”

“Fuck you, Lockley!” you hissed at him in anger, even as your cunt clenched at being called a slut.

“You like it. Your slutty little hole gave you away.”

Jake smirked at you and took his time to finish the cigarette before tamping it out in the ashtray in between your chairs. “Take your tits out. I want to see them, now,” Jake ordered, knowing you’d comply.

You slowly pulled the straps of your top down, exposing yourself to his hungry eyes. He cupped your breasts gently, massaging them and rolling your stiff nipples between his fingers, making you moan loudly again. You slowly rocked your hips again, taking your pleasure while you could. A light sheen of sweat coated your skin while you rode him, the coil in your belly slowly building. You reached out and gripped his shoulders tightly, so close to cumming. Just a little more, just a little mo–

Jake’s hands on your hips stopped your motions and cut the buildup you had short, nearly making you cry. Tears of frustration welled up in your eyes even as you glared at him. 

“None of that now. I asked you a question, and you didn’t answer, so why should I let you cum?” Jake asked harshly. “I’ll ask you again: how long have you wanted my cock?”

“Two years,” you confessed.

“That’s basically how long I’ve known you, and you’re only making a move now?”

“Yeah, I decided a while back you were a dick,” you growled back.

“I guess since I’m a dick I shouldn’t fuck you then?” Jake said. He moved to lift you off his lap, and you clung to him tightly. 

“No, please, I'm sorry.”

“I’m sorry, Papi. Say it.” 

“I’m sorry, Papi. Fuck me please,” you begged. 

“Esa es mi buena chica,” Jake praised with a smile. (That’s my good girl.)

Jake lifted your hips, thrusting upward into you while you clung to his shoulders. You were moaning incoherently, but he made out his name and several Papi's while he fucked you hard and fast, pushing you to the brink of orgasm quickly. Before you could cum, he pulled you onto his cock, stilling your movements again. 

“Up. Bend over the chair,” Jake ordered.

You climbed off his cock with a whine but did as he asked, waiting for him to climb off the chair before heeding his command. Once you bent over the chair, you wiggled your ass at him, trying to entice him back quickly.

He pressed himself behind you and tapped the head of his cock against your clit, dragging out a debauched moan from you. He lined up with your entrance and snapped his hips forward, filling you in one smooth motion. He drew out almost fully, snapping his hips forward, filling you again, while your hands scrambled for purchase. With each thrust of his hips into you, you moaned out his name. 

Jake gripped your throat, choking off your moans and using you as leverage to fuck you hard. He set a brutal pace into your cunt, tightening his grip on your throat until stars formed at the edges of your vision. The grip on your throat made your orgasm build again much quicker than before, while his groans were music to your ears. 

“Papi, please, I need to cum,” you whimpered.

“Putita means little slut and you are my little slut,” He growled, punctuating each word with a hard thrust.

Your orgasm surprised you, hitting you like a bus and you came screaming on Jake’s cock, your legs giving out and your body left twitching. Only his continued grip on you, while still thrusting raggedly from behind, kept you up upright. 

“You belong to me now,” Jake growled. His cock twitched inside you, releasing ropes of cum deep into your cunt, filling you up. He pulled out and watched his seed drip from you before scooping it up and pushing it back into your abused hole with two fingers, making you whine.

He helped you into your clothes, including panties this time, and onto his lounge chair, where your body lay limp.

“Worth your last smoke?” Jake asked while he tucked himself away.

“Yeah, but don’t call me putita,” you told him with a weak glare.

“It’s a pet name. You are mi putita,” Jake told you after he joined you on the lounge chair. 

“Rubbish pet name, if you ask me.”

“I can think of some many worse ones that I can teach you to enjoy,” Jake threatened. 

“You know what, it’s a brilliant pet name. I love it.”

Jake’s laughter surrounded you while he held you until it was too cold to stay outside. Instead of walking you to your bus stop, he led you into his apartment with a smile, apparently plotting to continue your earlier activities. 

#jake lockely #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight

[bellshazes]

can i get a little bit of DIA bdubs feelings towards scar and grian OR impulse flitered through the end of third life (scar wont kill me because i killed impulse because scar gave me a clock?) 👁

Having finally made sense of his past life (past lives) memories, Bdubs realizes too late the consequences of asking Impulse a favor. I think DIA flows into HCS8 in 'canon' but in a universe a little to the left, it precedes DL, so...

“Hey, thanks for this,” says Bdubs. It’s ten minutes past closing at the Southlands, and Impulse is the only one behind the counter. 

Impulse smiles at him, all genuine in a way that makes Bdubs’ stomach twist. “No problem, man. I’ll be done in a second, just gotta wipe the counters down. Have a seat.”

Bdubs obeys because he’s trying to be on his best behavior, trying not to be weird in public again. It’s been hard even now that he knows where all the strange deja vu and haunting feelings are coming from - sure, Impulse and him have barely interacted in this life, but he knows from his time as a ghost before it was Impulse’s wither that killed him, and the more he’s talked to Cleo about it all the more the clock from another even older life weighs on him.

But for all he knows, Impulse doesn’t know anything about it. He watches him clean with his chin propped up on one fist, Impulse humming under his his breath as he hangs up the towel with practiced precision.

“So you said you had this clock that’s not working,” Impulse says, taking the seat across from him.

Bdubs digs it out of his pocket, trailing his thumb along the weathered edges that never will get fully restored no matter how much he tries to polish it. “Yeah. Something’s stuck and I’m afraid if I try and take it apart I’ll never get it back together again. Etho’s mentioned you were good at tinkering before, so...”

“I’m not half bad,” Impulse says, taking the clock from his hands. He twists the crown and Bdubs knows he’s feeling the strain, something sticking internally. When he pops the face open, the hands are still. “I see. Probably just needs some careful cleaning, and I think I’ve got the right tools at home.” He brings it closer to his face to peer at the inner ring where the internal gears are visible and casually - too casually? - says, “Etho couldn’t do it?”

“Um,” says Bdubs. “He’d never let me live it down if he knew I’d let something this important break, since he complains all the time about me nagging him.”

“I see. You’ve had it for a long time - a gift from Scar, right?”

Bdubs freezes. “Is that - is this some kind of trick question?”

“An honest one,” Impulse says, head tilted ever so slightly.

“Clocks are important to me,” he retorts, more acidly than he means it. “Sorry, sorry, I’m making this weird aren’t I? Got to be better about that. It’s just, the concussion you know, it’s been really tough since then and now this stupid clock  not working, and everything. I shouldn’t have asked you to do this.”

To his surprise, Impulse laughs all full-bellied, setting the clock gently back on the table to wipe at the corner of his eye. Bdubs narrows his eyes, suspicious at someone out-weirding him. “No, don’t be sorry. We’re cool, you know that right? It all evens out in the end. It’s not a problem at all.”

Bdubs pauses. “You’re not... you don’t mean...”

“It was just a little joke! I got my revenge. I mean it that we’re cool now.” Impulse has the gall to wink at him. “Skizz and I talk all the time, you know. It’s not the clock.”

“Oh. Oh! Well, in that case,” Bdubs sputters. He doesn’t want to ask which revenge Impulse is referring to, the pretending or the incidental murder. It doesn’t really matter anyway, not in this life or the ones to come. “I’ll graciously agree to let bygones be bygones then, not that there are any byes to be gone. Going. Oh,  you get it.”

“I do,” Impulse says solemnly despite the sparkle in his eyes. “It’s an easy fix, I promise. I wouldn’t want to tarnish Etho’s good opinion of me, now that I’ve been recommended.”

“Etho’s good opinion is overrated,” Bdubs pronounces, relieved to be off the hook. “Uh, but if Etho says you’re a genius, I bet it’ll give you no trouble. Thanks, though. For the clock, and for being... cool about this?” It comes out as a question.

“Genius, huh.” Impulse nods, and moves to stand already. “Anytime. I gotta get going since it’s time to lock up, but I can drop your clock off at your place this weekend. Or... if you don’t want Etho to know, or you wanna talk about weird dreams you’ve been having or something, you know where to find me. Whatever’s good for you.”

“I’ll let you know,” Bdubs says, torn between secrecy and a well-developed sense of skepticism about people who promise to lend an ear and turn it around on you from years of hanging out with Scar. It’s more attractive an option than he expects it to be, but he’ll decide later. “I better get going too.

Impulse is smiling when he opens the door for him on his way out, since he’s got to lock whatever complicated mechanism is always getting the sliding doors stuck before shoving out for the evening.

Not this time, but maybe Bdubs will take him up on the offer, someday. It's not life-or-death here, he can't accidentally betray Impulse again, and maybe if he can have a do-over with Etho, he can have other do-overs too. He's got plenty of time to find out.

#peter writes #do it again au #impdubs #> drabble > almost 1k words again #i'm not even the biggest fan of their teamup in DL (i like the soulmates by choice best) but impulse is so fucking funny abt it we ended up #with. this. thank u for the prompt #also [etho voice] impulse is a bit of a genius

[deezeyrabbidy]

Midnite AU Lore; part 2! (CW for kids calling each other nasty cuss words)

 She was unlike any of the girls at school, that’s for sure.

   Midnite had been crying at the time. Things had finally come to a head with one of her worst harassers so far; Virmina. Ever since her first years attending the academy, Midnite could seemingly never hear the end of it from her. Somehow, Virmina had gotten it into her head that her far richer classmate was nothing more than a ludicrously rich dumbass who coasted off her parents’ success and sat around doing nothing useful all day. Virmina had gotten an offer to transfer to this school after a mere three years of public education, boosted here by her near-perfect academic record, as well as a list of outstanding extracurricular achievements. She shined above her peers like the sun outshined a bunch of melted, gooey candles lit by a soggy match. Being a transfer of this nature, she stuck out for being one of the few students who didn’t exactly come from biggish money. Of course, this led to some friction between the parties involved, but nobody seemingly understood why Midnite in particular got the brunt of her ire. Insults, shoving, petty namecalling. It just kept escalating between the girls, with Virmina being the first to usually start shit every single time. A calm, quiet girl who didn’t want any trouble and kept her problems bottled up inside her. A girl who was just different enough to feel separated, vulnerable, and anxious, but not enough to earn pity from nearby adults. That’s what Midnite was, and that was why she was being targeted. She just knew it. She was the only one weak enough to push around to this extent for so long. What was wrong with her?

   And then, this happened.

   “So, whatdya think you’ll be doin? Y’know, after we all leave this place?.......” A strawberry-blonde classmate had piped up, smiling at the lunch table, “Mom says I’ll be great atda family company! And I think all the people there are so cool and smart and I wanna be like em!”

   Midnite sat back and forced a small smile as her other tablemates excitedly began to share their own ideas for the future; doctor, travel blogger, actor, dancer, scientist, and even pet shop owner were among the various professions being brought up as she idly picked at the herring-and-cheese sandwich on her plate. She hadn’t been planning on joining in, but she was beginning to sense some stares and curious glances being directed her way……

   “Ahem, uhm……T-to be honest, I don’t really know, uhm, what I’ll wanna do as a grownup,” She rubbed her shoulder nervously, coughing slightly as she sat up straighter, “I haven’t really given it much thought to be hones-”

   “Because you’re a filthy little freeloader, yes, we get it.” Everyone nearly dropped what they were eating as they whipped their heads behind them……Virmina was trudging up from behind, snorting in seeming disgust at the stunned Midnite.

   Her throat felt dry as everyone’s gazes turned back to her, her entire face flushed a brilliant red as she struggled to regain her bearings.

   “T-t-t……..that’s……not true…….that’s not true at all………” She looked down, distressed.

   Virmina snorted loudly, looking even smugger than before as she saw her designated enemy embarrassed and triggered. “What, cat got your tongue there? Or are you speechless cuz I’m right?~” She cackled vilely. 

M: “W-what did I ever do to you!? Just leave me alone! I don’t want to talk to you!”

V: “Fine! I don’t wanna hang with some stupid, rich, useless bimbo anyways!”

   It felt like the world paused for just a moment, Midnite felt like she had gained tunnel vision. Nine, they were NINE years old, Virmina (and herself, for that matter) shouldn’t even know that word, much less have the nerve to call her it! Her heart pounded in her chest. She stood up. The few tables around them went quiet as everyone turned to face her. Everyone was staring. Everybody had heard Virmina call her a fucking bimbo. 

M: “You take that back!”   Everyone gasped softly at her raising her voice.

V: “Make me, talentless loser bimbo! Bimbo girl!” Her smile was shit-eating as she pointed, irate. 

   And then she just fucking lost it.

“WELL AT LEAST I’M NOT THE DEAN’S LITTLE BITCH!!!!!!”

   Multiple of the other girls shrieked in surprise, others covering their ears or mouths and some even running off, definitely to tell the dean or a teacher. She was right in Virmina’s face now. Fists clenched, teeth also clenched. She had never felt this damn angry. 

   The way Virmina’s face twisted into a look of horrified rage made her smile a little.

V“Why, you have some nerve you little-”    

M: “FUCK YOU!”   With that, Midnite felt her arms shove Virmina right off her feet. Her lunch went flying across the floor, spilling cheese, mayonnaise, and smelly sardine scraps all over, as well as her open milk carton and mixed fruit salad. 

   There was some kind of odd disconnect she felt, really. It didn’t feel like she had pushed her, more like her arms had acted on their own accord, out of sheer frustration and pent-up grudge. But damn, it felt good hearing that haughty brat unironically shriek in fear for once!

   It felt less good as Virmina’s hand grabbed at her skirt, sending her tumbling to the hard tile floor along with her, in what could only be described as a food-covered ball of furious schoolgirl.

   There was even more shrieking and yelping from her classmates, who by now had formed a wide circle around the brawlers. Fists were flying, with Midnite feeling a solid blow to her shoulder and promptly flinging her right fist in retaliation. Punches, kicking, slapping. It all was a bit of a blur of violence and struggling. As quickly as it started, however, it seemed to end, as Midnite felt herself yanked back my the shoulders, vaguely hearing the voice of Miss Whynter, angry and panicking as a few teachers had come to tear the two students, now bruised and beaten, apart.

   Welp, she was screwed now.

   Or at least, it sure seemed like it. With the expressions on the teachers’ face being that of pure contempt and annoyance, both girls were lead up to the dean’s office, kept apart from each other for obvious reasons. Midnite could only stare in slow-dawning realization and dread as she was sat across from the Dean, at his large, intimidatingly ornate deskspace.

   “......Surely this must be some sort of misunderstanding!.......They were doing WHAT you say?!?.........I see……………I’ll attend to them shortly, this is deeply disappointing to hear…….”

   He was in the next room over. And he was PISSED. ‘It’s all over’, Midnite thought, shifting in her seat as Virmina shot a shit-eating grin her way, ‘She’ll be fine…….She’s the dean’s precious pet. I’ll probably be kicked out of school and maybe my home………’. She wondered just how well the local orphanage would treat her once she arrived.

   “Girls……mind giving me an explanation for such unacceptable behavior?..........”

   ________________________________________________________________________

Midnite stood bitterly outside the doors of her school. Disciplinary Action papers in hand. Tears still streaming down her face, refreshing the dried up streaks from older tears as they did so. 

It wasn't fair

IT. WASN'T. FAIR.

She may have not gotten expelled, through some miracle; mainly for this being her first ever offense throughout her academic career here. But her past behaviour still had not saved her from a week's worth of lunchtime detention. On top of that, she owed that bitch Virmina an APOLOGY! Handwritten and signed! It didn't even matter that Virmina had received the same punishments, this was so unfair! Midnite hadn't called her a BIMBO or been tormenting her for almost a year and a half by now! And now......her parents would.........

She gulped and shook as she took a deep breath. Both Virmina and Midnight had been let go from school early for the day, and were to report home to their guardians with previously mentioned disciplinary papers to be signed, overviewed, and agreed upon by them.....But Midnight didn't WANT to go home after what had just happened. How could her parents even look her in the eyes after this?! Their precious, innocent, sweet child, put in detention for fighting in the cafetorium! What sort of Snowholme would she be with such a horrendous blotch on her records? She……she couldn’t go home right now. She just couldn’t. 

This just sucked. This entire day had just fucking sucked so far. 

Midnite glanced out at the distant cluster of shops and low-rent apartments to her northeast.......Well.......It wasn't that far away.......Perhaps she could cool down browsing some of the stores before coming home to face the inevitable. It was really all she could think of at the moment......

With a sigh and an adjusting of her scarf, she headed off, feet falling softly in the snow as she tread along towards the town. The walk wasn’t exactly brief, but the cold weather was mild enough at the moment to keep the trip bearable.

It was surprisingly lively today for such a small little pocket of urbanization, really. Perhaps she had just never been here at this time to see it?

She rubbed her mittened hands together, feeling the chill of a wintery breeze run down her spine despite her decently layered attire. The shops around were nothing really out of the ordinary; a rather sweet-smelling bakery with mouthwatering cakes, buns, and loaves in the display window, two stores who were either thrift shops or antique stores (she really couldn't tell, their branding was so generic and vague, all she could gander from a peek though the window was they sold a bunch of random junk), a recognizably-branded clothing boutique that she wasn't too fond of, a family-owned toy emporium, and a small, boxy grocery mart with worn-away white paint on the walls and less walking room than most of the local apartments. 

   There were a few or more establishments she had yet to reach when the incident that would, unknowingly at the time, change the entire path of her life, drastically and in ways she could never have even imagined, happened.

   And it started with a hard bump to the shoulder.

   “Aghhh!” Midnite felt her arms instinctively move to cover her face as she stumbled, her schoolbag’s strap unclipping from the force of the jolt as it fell to the ground next to her. 

   “Sorry.”

   The voice that responded to her was mumbling and flat in tone, and as Midnite turned to look towards its owner, she saw a flash of movement as her bag was swept up in one smooth motion, quickly followed by the sound of mad-dash footsteps against the stone pathway. 

   “H-hey! What are you-?!”

   Her bag! This random fucking stranger on the street had stolen her bag, including her disciplinary papers!

   No, no, no! She was screwed! She might actually get expelled for real if she lost those! And literally everything else in that bag was important in at least some kind of way to her schooling career! She couldn’t let them get away!

   She dashed blindly in the direction of the now sprinting stranger, following their crunching footsteps against the snow and ice that littered the roads. She pushed past startled strangers who turned in both worry and confusion as they watched the ensuing chase around town, But it seemed like none of them actually were even that bothered by such a frantic occurrence…if anything, Midnight swore their stares at both her and her target looked more pitiful than anything else. 

   It seemed like this person was experienced at this sort of game. They were having a much easier time navigating the twists and turns that the township had to offer, and slipped through small crowds of rabbids as if they were liquid through a crack. Midnite’s breath felt ragged, her throat dry and her knees aching from all the running, she was so tired….She stopped and gasped for air in her lungs, looking up, only to catch a glimpse of long black hair whipping around the corner ahead of her……right into a dark, scary alleyway. 

   “N-no………..”

#rabbids #sparks of hope #mario + rabbids #rabbids sparks of hope #mario rabbids sparks of hope #mario rabbids #edge and the spark hunters au #rabbid midnite #backstory #rabbid edge

[hyenahunt]

Saga: Release - 9

Writer: Akira

Season: Spring

Characters: Jin, Chiaki, Tori, Hokuto

Proofreading: 310mc (JP) & Peace (ENG)

Translation: kotofucius

Jin: It’s no different from beer or cigarettes; once you know their flavor, you’ll find 'em hard to let go.

Location: Empty Classroom

Jin: Uhh, I’ll start with a report, then.

This news came in just this morning, fresh out of the oven: They’ve decided to carry on with Project-Saga.

Chiaki: Ohh? Is that… something we should congratulate?

Tori: Mm? It’s good news, so shouldn’t we be overjoyed? Based on the timing, this is ‘cause our live show was a success, right?

It always feels so nice to be recognized by the world, no matter what it’s for~♪

Hokuto: Hmm… But Sagami-sensei was unenthusiastic throughout it, so maybe we shouldn’t be so happy about a second go.

Jin: No, no. You don’t have to worry about that — I’m pretty happy about this too, surprisingly.

It feels like I haven’t been contributing anything to society since I retired as an idol, so it felt nice doing something praiseworthy after a long time.

Chiaki: Ahaha. Toddlers get praised just for standing on their feet, but praises become harder to earn as we grow up, huh.

Tori: Huh? Hold on, so Project-Saga wasn’t actually confirmed to carry on at first?

I was under the impression that I was gonna be part of Rain-bows for a long time…

Jin: Yeah, it’s ‘cause it’s a low-budget project of a magazine company; it could’ve been terminated anytime. The press, or just the world as a whole, tend to be pretty harsh about this stuff.

No point in showcasing something that doesn’t sell, after all.

There was a likelier possibility that no one would care enough to glance at retired idols after all this time, too.

Honestly, I looked down on the plan… I was expecting it to fall short.

But you kids worked harder than I imagined, and thanks to that, we’re getting a ton of attention from the public…

Now we even have a production committee set up, while the funding and scale are growing beyond our wildest dreams.

This isn’t just a magazine project anymore; we’re becoming a huge-scale endeavor that’s involving even TV crews and the like.

…or so said our Mr. Writer. He looked the most surprised while explaining, though.

In any case, we should take stories like this with a grain of salt.

I think he’s exaggerating with that “huge-scale endeavor” part, but it’s true it’s grown a lot bigger than when it first started.

Chiaki: Heheh, everybody is welcoming your return, Sagami-sensei. Why not just concede and come back completely?

Jin: I already told you, I won’t… I get reminded with each passing day that I’m not eager or fit enough to catch up with youths like you anymore.

Either way, since it’s now a huge plan involving a lot of money and people, tossing it halfway has become out of the question.

So yeah, I’ll keep my act together until Project-Saga is done through and through.

Hokuto: Alright, give it your all. We’ll help you as long as it doesn’t interfere with our actual unit work. No—we’ll be sure to give our everything as Rain-bows.

Jin: ‘Kay, but save your worry for Trickstar; you guys have been looking out of it lately.

Hokuto: Right… I’ll spare no effort for both, naturally. The more recognition I get as Rain-bows, the more it benefits our units, too.

Tori: Yup. If Project-Saga’s gotten huge, that means we can gain more fame too.

It’s great news, really~ There’s never anything bad about success~♪

Jin: Right. But the more people are involved, the more responsibilities we have too.

We’ll suffer more damage when we fail, so we’ve gotta let go of the not-so-serious attitude we’ve had ‘til now.

Hokuto: No, you are the only one who isn’t serious, Sensei.

Jin: Eh~ I’m trying in my own way too, though.

Oh well. Anyway, there’s one more thing… bad news this time. Or, well, I guess I can’t write it off completely as bad.

This is kinda related to what I just told you; we might have a little troublesome problem coming our way.

Chiaki: …What does that mean?

Jin: So, to get to the point: Project-Saga’s participants have increased explosively.

There are several reasons… First is the increase in Project-Saga’s budget, which means participants will be getting actual rewards for their work.

Hokuto: Ahh… Previously, the promised pay was so meager that participating was all pain and no gain.

Tori: Yeah, yeah! We were basically flat broke. Even our main reason for holding that live show we had was to gather our own activity funds.

Jin: Yup, so it’s good news that the budget situation improved — now we don’t have to worry about money.

But since we’ve got a rise of participants, we aren’t keeping all the profit for ourselves, of course.

Anyway, onto the next reason.

Thanks to the decent evaluation of our activities, the retirees who were previously waiting around are starting to get off their butts.

Chiaki: Oh! Is it because they think “We can’t sit around while the Sagami Jin is giving his all!”? That’s so neat! So dramatic~♪

Jin: Nah… Up until now, reviving retired idols just sounded plain crazy, so they probably didn’t wanna risk getting humiliated for nothing.

But then they saw us actually doing well and getting fawned over, so they’re probably starting to think they might get to shine like the old times too.

Y’know, to get another taste of that glory—that nectar they had in the past.

…But that’s an off-putting way to describe it, huh?

I’m sure you kids know how gratifying it feels to stand on stage and be cheered on by your fans.

It’s no different from beer or cigarettes; once you know their flavor, you’ll find 'em hard to let go.

Figuratively speaking, what we’re doing is the same as relishing a bottle of beer in front of someone who's renounced drinking for a long time.

And we’re holding out the bottle to them, telling them, “You can have some if you want”.

Project-Saga is that beer.

And unlike beer and cigs, they won’t be reprimanded for savoring it. In fact, their old fans will be overjoyed to see them again.

So it’s natural that they would get tempted and think, “Where’s the harm in a mouthful?”

Tori: Mm~ I get it even less when you compare it to beer.

Jin: You’re still a minor, after all. Anyway… I can only guess what at they’re thinking, but the explosive increase of Project-Saga participants is real.

They’re all like us; temporary units formed of a retired idol that mentors a bunch of young disciples.

I’d guess most of them are still too new to even have unit names yet.

✦✦✦✦✦

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#ensemble stars #enstars #enstars translation #s: saga #era: ! #hyenahunttl #type: event #tori himemiya #hokuto hidaka #chiaki morisawa #jin sagami

[misactor]

Tantrumania

vignettes from life as a mythical airbag

This year, I turn twenty. It’s odd to think about, since I’m awful at being nineteen, and was even worse at playing the parts of the eighteen roles that preceded it. If I were wholly therapized to my fullest potential, I’d say it’s because I refuse to acknowledge myself as a person in the world, and that any bouts of self awareness debilitate me.

I’ve been to therapy, and it felt like I was talking to a wall. That’s probably a me-problem that could be solved by several more hour-long sessions that run over to match the salt stains down my cheeks, but I don’t think I can emotionally take having to explain myself to yet another woman with rectangular glasses. Instead, I’ll blame my shortcomings on the cracks that have lined my bedroom floor since childhood. I’m pretty sure I lost one of my teeth down there, and there’s probably an evil little fairy that doomed me to an eternity of suffering because of it. Sorry for dropping my incisor in through your ceiling, but I was sad.

Since cutting the umbilical cord that once pulled me taught to the place I grew up, I’ve realized just how bad I am at keeping myself alive. Realistically, it shouldn't be that difficult. You buy food, you sleep well, and you do just enough work to stop everyone you know from whispering about how lazy you’ve gotten. I do buy food — just too much, or not the right kinds. I’ve eaten canned peaches with a fork for the past week straight, and my dinner is usually blackout binged, stopping only when the single guest — my stomach — has decided it can’t take it anymore. We reconcile the table-side insults over porcelain and water, and then I fall asleep with mint toothpaste still stuck under my tongue.

Most babies cry when the cord is cut. I didn’t, and it took months before that dam ever broke. I was a good baby (see: quiet, non-disruptive, and understanding). My mother complimented me on it for years whenever she couldn’t think of anything else nice to say to me. At some point during one of her eulogies to the women she and I were when I was young, I figured out that I really am just like her. We’re both bad at keeping ourselves alive, and the only difference is that I got born into the job of lifetime airbag for the generations that choose to lean on me.

That’s me, the mythical airbag. Always too soft or not enough, too big and never comfortable. I partook in the rituals of longing that have been passed down through frail hands and tinsel wrists, only to fall rattling in my lap, looking entirely out of place. Before meals we didn’t pray to a god or deity, but instead to a figure who all of us knew — nameless, faceless, with butterfly skin, soft lips, and arms that sat like wings at her side.

There are moments when I remember the woman I conjured when I was young. She was tall, thin, delicate — she never had to open her mouth to say anything, and her eyes spoke to the masses, cutting through lens and air. She was me, graduated from the pit of Girlhood, one that I thought I could escape and leave behind simply by going on another year with the promise of becoming prettier held safely in my pocket. I kept her close, prayed to her, and laid her down next to me every night before I slept. I took care of her, watered her, fed her with clippings from magazines and porn sites, and studied the boys who sat next to me in class — following their eyes around the room and keeping a tally of where they landed.

Like all things do, she managed to crawl out from between my fingers and run, just when I needed her to curl in on herself and ready her body to be swallowed. That promise — the one I had made to myself, my mother, her mother, and all of the other women that wanted me to heal the promises that they themselves were unable to keep — had fled from me.

In many ways, that loss was the match that struck up the rest to follow. You get to an age where your baby fat isn't baby anymore, and when people in public stop looking at your parents with disapproval, and instead turn their gaze towards you. No more shirts that show my shoulders, no more pants that show my knees. No more shoes that show my ankles, and no bare wrists until I can wrap two fingers around them and watch the nails overlap. Gone is the person, replaced instead with glass shards that are carefully glued before bed. The cracks are there, but hidden. I’m equal parts girl and craftsman, equal servings of woman and ingenue. The proximity to breakage is exhilarating. I’ve dreamt of being delicate since I was conscious of myself, and if repairing a ravaged body is my way to get there, I’ll take it.

It’s around this same time that I started fantasizing about being kidnapped by one of the men who would brush up against me in the grocery store parking lot. Instead of walking away, I imagined he’d grab my waist and pick me up (see: skinny) and toss me over his shoulder. I’d spend the next days, months, and years locked in his basement wasting away until all that was left was the phrase “you look just like your mother”. She was beautiful, and small, and that would be a triumph. After enough time, he’d see her instead of me, no more girl but woman, and fall in love.

Now, there’s nothing girl left about me, and the fantasy ends differently. We don’t make it to the basement, because he kills me in the car. I let him chop me up and serve me to his friends much later, and I smile while they chew and compliment him on his cooking. It feels good to be desired, and if this is what it takes, I’ll live in his freezer for as long as he wants me to.

Why, exactly, do I hate myself?

I write an anonymous online diary entry in hopes that someone who I know but doesn’t know me will read it. When they do, I hope the person they conjure looks nothing like me but acts and thinks the same.

Fall in love with my shadow, with the spit I’ve left on the sidewalk. Pity the way that I forget to clean up after myself, and leave a carcass when I’m gone. Admire how I taste, remember it while you devour, and don’t comment on how little is left for the rest of the dinner guests afterwards.

Most importantly, if you require your pills pre-chewed by your mother before you swallow, I suggest you look away.

#may artur #misactor #misact #writing #prose #digital diary #substack

[365daysofj2]

Jared Returns Home (Library Boys, 29/?)

“You ready to get out of here?” asks Felicia.

Jared squeezes Jensen’s hand. “I’ll come visit every day till you get out of here too.”

Jensen nods and tugs on Jared’s hand. Jared leans down and hugs him as hard as he dares.

Jensen holds up his phone so Jared can read the note there. It shouldn’t be too much longer.

“I know. I’ll be counting the minutes.” Jared kisses Jensen’s cheek, careful not to touch the tube of the nasal cannula that Jensen still has to wear. “I probably won’t come back today, but I’ll be here first thing tomorrow.”

Jensen nods and gives Jared a small smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. Jared knows Jensen is sick to death of the hospital, so he desperately hopes Jensen can come home soon. 

Jared picks up his phone and puts it in his pocket. “I’m ready,” he tells Felicia.

Felicia and Jared walk down to the front doors, where they have to wait for the valet to bring her car back. She’s taking him to Kline to get his car. It’s been parked there since the day of the fire. He’ll have to find a way to get Jensen’s car out of the Kline lot as well, but that’s a problem for another day. 

The Kline parking lot has cones at the entrance to keep the public out, so Felicia stops in front of them and lets Jared out. He moves them aside she can turn around in the main lot and he’ll be able to drive out. “Thanks so much. For everything,” he says, giving her a quick hug.

Jared stops and puts the cones back in place before he leaves the parking lot. His ancient Toyota is a little sluggish from sitting for so long, but it comes back to life once he’s about halfway home. 

Jared unlocks the front door and walks in. Max is standing in the middle of the living room, looking a little confused. When Jared steps forward and kneels down to let him sniff, Max apparently recognizes Jared, because he starts dancing around and wagging his tail. “I missed you too, buddy,” says Jared, patting Max’s head and neck. “Give me a second and I’ll take you out back.”

Jared leads Max to the back door and hooks the lead onto his collar. He steps out the back door and clips the other end of the lead to the ground hook at the edge of the porch. Jared steps out onto the grass and savors the smell of fresh air. Max bounds around the lawn for a few minutes before settling down and doing his business. Jared will have to take him for a good walk later. It’ll do both of them good.

Jared goes back inside and plugs his phone into the charger. He decides to text Jensen and let him know he’ll be in the shower for the next half hour or so. He can still smell smoke even though he showered and washed his hair twice in the hospital. 

That’s a nice mental picture. That’ll have to last me a little while, Jensen texts back. Can’t wait until I can get in there with you.

Neither can I, replies Jared. 

Jared washes his hair and and his body twice in the hottest water he can stand. It’s so nice to be back in his own home with his own shower. He uses Jensen’s mahogany teakwood body wash just so he can feel like a part of Jensen is with him. He towels off and then shaves the couple days’ of stubble he didn’t feel like dealing with in the hospital. 

He changes into basketball shorts and his D3 playoffs t-shirt and sits down on the living room couch. He taps the cushion next to him until Max jumps up and puts his head right in Jared’s lap. Jared smiles. If he can’t have Jensen with him, at least he’s got a furry friend to spend time with. He turns on the TV and finds a West Wing episode on pause on the Roku box. It’s one of Jensen’s favorite shows, as it was the first network show he ever watched when he was in college. His roommate had been a poli sci major and introduced him to it. They even had watch parties sometimes. Jared likes it fine, but it’s not the same without Jensen here, so he turns on Netflix instead. He’s been wanting to catch up on Umbrella Academy. 

He texts Jensen during the credits to let him know he’s available to chat. I can’t talk long. I have to get a chest X-ray and some other tests soon.

Jared’s breath catches. If it’s bad news, that means Jensen will have to stay in the hospital longer. God, I really hope it’s good news. I want you here with me.

Me too, Jensen writes back. I want my own clothes and my own bed. And you and Max, of course.

It’s not the same without you, replies Jared. But Max and I are keeping the couch warm for you.

Send me a photo?

Jared opens his phone camera and takes a selfie of him and Max. He quickly sends it to Jensen.

You look so comfy, Jensen writes. God, I wish I was between you two.

I’m sending you good vibes. It’ll be good news. We deserve a break.

From your fingers to God’s ears, Jensen replies. Nurse is here. I gotta go. I’ll text you when I know anything.

Jared sends hug and kiss emojis back. Jensen responds with a quick red heart. 

Jared watches TV for what seems like ages before Jensen texts him back. I don’t know anything yet. But they seemed pleased.

That’s a good sign, Jared replies, adding a smiley face.

I hope so. Are you behaving?

Of course. I’m just chilling with Max. I need to get up and make dinner but I don’t feel like it.

If you want to order pizza, you can use my card. 

Jared doesn’t really need Jensen’s money—it’s not like he’s spent any money at all in the last few days except for the phone charger—but it’s a nice offer, and Jared appreciates it. Maybe I will. Leftovers would be helpful to have around. 

Eat a piece for me, all right? 

I will, writes Jared, adding the tongue out smiley at the end. 

I’ll just live vicariously through you, then. 

Jared starts to type out a response, but Jensen sends another message before he can. The doctor’s here. Hold on and I’ll let you know what he says.

Jared erases what he wrote and waits for the three dots to appear again. It seems to take an hour for Jensen to write back, even though it’s only a few minutes. If Jensen can’t come home, Jared doesn’t know what he’ll do. It’ll be torture.

I can come home the day after tomorrow!! 

Jared feels like a fifty-pound weight just lifted off his chest and shoulders. That’s fantastic! I’m so happy for you. For both of us. He finishes with the heart smiley.

It’s gonna be a long 48 hours, Jensen writes back. 

Try to behave, Jared replies with a winking face.

Jensen texts a smirking face back along with I make no guarantees.

Well, don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.

Jensen sends a laughing face first, then says Can you contact Kim and Mark and let them know?

Sure, sure. No problem. Jared opens his work email and sends them both a quick note. He BCCs Samantha on it just to save himself a step. 

Thanks, Jay. You’re the best. They haven’t bugged me about anything in a while. I guess they have what they need.

Jared smiles. He’s glad his request seems to have been granted. I’m glad. You don’t need that shit. They can manage just fine without you. 

I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, right?

First thing, Jared assures him. I love you so much. See you soon.

I love you too. Good night. Jensen ends the message with a blue heart. Jared sends him a red heart in return. 

Jared orders the pizza and decides to feed Max in the meantime. He fills Max’s food bowl with kibble and places it on the mat. Then he picks up Max’s water bowl and fills it with hot water. He gives it a good brushing and then refills it with cooler water. By the time he’s done, Max has finished his kibble. Jared puts the water dish back in its place and Max takes full advantage of it. 

“That’s a good boy,” Jared croons as Max looks up at him expectantly. Jared grabs a jerky treat from a jar on the breakfast bar and tears it into three pieces. Max makes quick work of that too. Jared lets him out briefly before the doorbell rings. 

Jared retrieves the pizza and takes it into the kitchen. He can’t just sit everything on the coffee table now because the table is too short and Max could get right into the pizza box. He only takes two slices. He hasn’t had nearly as much of an appetite since the fire. Nothing tastes quite right either, although that’s improved quite a bit since his first day in the hospital. He eats at the dinner table, and even though Max had both his dinner and his treat, Jared can’t resist slipping him a little bit of bacon from the Meat Lover’s pizza. 

Jared wraps the leftovers in foil and puts them in the fridge. He’ll need to clean the spoiled stuff out of the fridge before Jensen comes home. He’s got all day tomorrow to get chores done. Where he’ll get the energy to do them, he’s not sure. He’s still tired from the whole ordeal, which the doctors said is because his body still isn’t getting as much oxygen as it’s used to. He should probably call Briana and see if she can help him. He’s not sure if she’s made up her shifts yet. He can text her first thing tomorrow and ask. He’s not really in the mood to do it now.

Jared turns The Umbrella Academy off and decides he needs something that requires less brainpower. He leaves Netflix entirely and goes into the Gizmoplex MST3K app. He starts at the middle of season 6 with The Starfighters. He swings his legs up on the couch and stretches out. Max ambles over and jumps up on the other end, settling down in front of Jared’s legs. Jared scritches Max’s ears a few times before his eyes start to feel heavy. He hasn’t been this comfortable in days. He dozes off with Max’s soft fur under his fingers and the voices of Trace Beaulieu and Mike Nelson in his ears. 

#365daysofj2 #j2 au #j2 fanfic #library au #library boys #librarian jensen

[keefwho]

August 03

5:33 PM

On some level I was telling myself that my anxiety was alright. I did all the work and I’m good to go. Obviously that can’t be true. Today I’m realizing it, and dealing with some of it right now. I feel stressed because I feel like I have to hang out with people tonight and I might just not want to, because I’m afraid. I’ll do the right thing and take this time for myself like I should, but I don’t like letting people down. I know at least 1 person who always says he understands but really doesn’t, and likely suffers because I need this me time. I don’t like that. 

I keep feeling unsafe but I know I’m not. Its REALLY hard to just let go of my body telling me there’s a threat, even though I know there isn’t one. It feels so silly. I just want to enjoy my night. I need to be compassionate towards myself though. This really isn’t my fault. Its a runaway thought/reaction process that’s evolved and been unchecked for years. Of course it’s going to be strong and hard to deal with. 

I should recount everything that makes up these thoughts and feelings. Write down everything that I don’t like and need to work on. At my core I feel like I’m overdue to become sick. It’s been 12ish years since I have been. I feel like I SHOULD get sick. Every day I watch for symptoms. If I detect one, no matter how small, the snowball cycle of thinking starts until I’m in a panic. I’ve been real good about that part lately, I haven’t been panicking. But the problem in general rests on my mind at all times. I started doing things I haven’t done in years. I feel my lymph nodes every couple hours. I take my temperature once or twice a day. It can help to have proof that nothing is wrong, but the act of doing these things is fueling the problem. I feel unsafe leaving my home with no quick way back. I’m scared to commit to social time or livestreams because on some level I’m ‘stuck’, in the sense that I can’t suddenly leave without letting someone down or making someone worry. 

I think I should pick up that book I was reading again, I kinda stopped halfway through. I shouldn’t have. 

9:17 PM

I can’t say I feel alone anymore, but I did for a long time. I watched a video today that covered something I think is very relevant to me. I felt alone because I wasn’t finding people who could share their feelings in a healthy way. Basically people that don’t hide who they are from others. Im lucky to have found a solid few that I really connect with and appreciate. 

11:18 PM

Just stop THINKING. Most of my problems come from OVERthinking. I just want to be smoothbrained sometimes so the problems slide right off. 

I’ve just been kinda ADHD lately. I gotta actively force myself to focus on specific tasks and plans. Things I know are better for me, vs things that only feel better. 

11:30 PM

Still thinking whether or not I should be addressing some things that might be better off suppressed? With how much it’s been bothering me lately, I feel like I have to. I greatly fear the consequences though. Everything could be fine if I just, don’t. FUck.

11:42 PM

Damn this journal being public, I’m not afraid to rant to strangers but who knows who could be reading this that I actually KNOW. No matter, this is about me documenting my personal problems for my own sake. Im going to assume I am safe. 

I think accepting my fear as an emotion led to accepting basically all my feelings, which has been very enriching and interesting. The issue I’m facing is that I’m starting to consider romance again. I’ve been adamant about being single since high school since having these kinds of feelings never ever went well. But to be fair, I was a cringy emotional high schooler. I still believe in being single, in the sense that a partner shouldn’t be a requirement. I want to be able to stand on my own. I am beginning to see, however, that it could be a very nice thing to have. I used to be repulsed by couples or romance, but I honestly think it’s because I was jealous. I did want something like that, but I knew I was in no place to actually uphold that kind of dynamic. But now I’m starting to view myself as a dynamic and growing person. Like I’m getting to know MYSELF for once. And what I’ve learned is that I am once again open to the idea of becoming more intimate with someone. Maybe not DATING, that’s a whole can of worms on it’s own. But doing the kinds of mushy things couples usually do. I don’t want to get lost though, my main goal is still to be a pillar for myself. I want to operate effectively as my own entity, but with some help occasionally. THATS been the real issue here. I’m becoming obsessed with these feelings like a kid with new toys. It’s hard to reign it in, but it probably will on it’s own after a little while. It doesn’t help that I haven’t really had an outlet for this kind of thing. How do I get this out??

#journal #anxiety