#I’m going to just stand there and look pretty for things

[arieslost]

getting into a silly argument with lando just for him to pull the “oooh you wanna kiss me so bad right now it’s embarrassing” card and blah blah blah you can go where you want from there 😙

this was so cute, thank you for sending this in! i hope you like it <3

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kiss me | ln4

you’re sure you’re seeing things.

you’re used to seeing fancy cars all the time now, what with having lived with your boyfriend in monaco for the better part of a year, but you’ve been able to keep track of said fancy cars. so you know when there’s a new one.

a new one in your parking garage, right next to lando’s 765lt. meaning it’s in your parking spot that had never once harbored a car until this morning. and now there’s another 765lt there. in your favorite color, no less.

“lando norris!” you yell out the moment you’re through the doorway to your shared apartment.

the deer in the headlights look on his face is priceless. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to figure out what he could’ve possibly done to upset you.

“hi baby,” he says carefully, starting to step towards you when he’s stopped by you holding a hand up.

“no, you’re not going to sweet talk your way out of this one.”

he blinks at you a few times, watching as you take off your shoes and start pacing back and forth.

“did i forget something?” he chances, taking another step in your direction like he’s approaching a wild animal.

you glare at him. “forget something? like the car in the parking garage?”

“ohhhh,” it clicks then, and you watch, infuriated, as a smirk grows on his face.

“i don’t know why you’re smiling. how dare you?”

“how dare i?” he laughs, clearly entertained. “you’re always complementing my car. i figured you’d like one of your own.”

“so you just buy me a car?!”

he starts to admonish you, to try and sweet talk his way out of this, when he pauses. “you’re happy about this.”

“i most certainly am not,” you disagree instantly, immediately getting flashbacks to when you saw the car and became giddy at the mere possibility of it being yours.

“you most certainly are,” he argues, now approaching you with ease.

“get away from me, norris,” you threaten weakly, stepping back with every step he takes towards you.

“i don’t think i will,” he shrugs, grabbing your wrist gently and tugging you into his body, and you can’t resist his embrace. “i think you’re so overcome with excitement that it’s manifesting as something else entirely.”

“it’s a car, lando. how many times have i told you that i don’t need these kinds of things?” you narrow your eyes at him, resting your chin against his chest.

“i know you don’t need them, pretty,” he sighs, kissing your forehead. “but i really wanted to get it for you. you’ll look so sexy driving it.”

you roll your eyes, pushing away from him. “i hate you so much.”

“you looove me,” he coos, following you as you walk into your bedroom.

“go away. i’m mad at you.”

“are you?” he asks, leaning against the doorway as you pull out loungewear to change into.

you glare at him again, hating how good he looks just standing there looking at you.

“i knew it. you wanna kiss me,” he states, like it’s obvious.

“what? i don’t think so,” you respond, turning your back on him as you change.

“i do. you gave me that look. you know the one.”

“i have no idea what you’re talking about.” you pull your shirt over your head and reach for a hair tie on your nightstand, just to give yourself something extra to do so you don’t have to look at him a little longer, otherwise your indignant mindset will crack.

“you wanna kiss me so bad,” he teases.

“no thanks.”

“you wanna kiss me so bad it’s embarrassing. you can’t even look at me.” he points out, and damn him for it.

you look at him. and promptly blush the moment you meet his eyes.

“i knew it,” he sings triumphantly, waltzing over to where you stand fiddling with your hair tie.

“i’m mad at you,” you reiterate.

“fine. you’re mad. i’m sorry, but i can’t return the car. well, i could. but i’m not going to. kiss me.”

“you’re insufferable,” you whine, once again relenting when he gets his arms around your waist.

“and you want to kiss me, so just do it.” he squeezes his eyes shut and puckers his lips cutely, and, well, what else are you supposed to do but kiss him?

he hums happily against your lips, gently stroking your hair even when you part. “can i braid it for you?”

you want to argue with him and tell him to stop being cute, but you’ve never be able to resist him.

“thank you for the car, lan,” you mumble as he sets to his task. “i love it.”

“what do you love more, me or the car?”

“the car, obviously.”

he gives your hair a playful tug, and you giggle, reaching back to pinch his hip.

“i’ll keep this in mind for next time.”

“next time?!” you make eye contact with him in the mirror next to your nightstand, and he just smiles innocently in the way that never fails to make you melt.

damn him.

word count: 860

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: wishing my f1 driver boyfriend buying me a mclaren 765lt was my biggest life problem rn. also i finished writing this like 20 mins before posting so if there’s anything wrong pls tell me

requests are OPEN, and my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

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#aries answers #anon <3 #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #ln4 fluff #ln4 imagine #ln4 fic #ln4 x reader #ln4 x you #formula one x you #formula one x reader #formula one fluff #formula 1 x reader #formula one imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

[scudevils]

thick thighs save lives — QH43

pairing: quinn hughes x fem!reader

warnings: essentially smut with minimal plot (easing myself back into writing), thigh riding (🤭🤭), swearing, playoff beard representation, pretty much me just loving big thighs icl, sappy sap is back (i would say i’m sorry but im not), not proofread!!

synopsis: name a better match than hockey players and thick thighs [1.8k]

hockey players and thick thighs, a match made in heaven some way would say, their wives would anyway and you could definitely attest to it.

you were obsessed from the moment you'd started dating, wether it was not so innocent glances when he'd be wearing just slightly too short shorts, the ones that rode up when he sat down and especially when he wore trunks at the pool. or when you had no impure thoughts as you sat on his lap, maybe it was watching tv, sharing a seat whilst at the lakehouse or just whenever you wanted to be close to him.

long story short, you liked quinn's thighs, and he was more than aware of it.

you were staring, but of course you were, years after you'd first begun dating and quinn and you were still deep in the honeymoon phase, you were as smitten as a woman on her wedding day if what your mother would say. the weatherman was right for once, mid 20s felt like paradise after the cold winter, and you were all out enjoying the sun whilst it lasted.

the season had ended a few weeks ago, the canucks being knocked out of the second round of the playoffs by just a goal and you were sad for quinn, his second season as captain of the team and you knew he wanted to replicate the success of the first. but unfortunately, things weren't meant to be and he was home earlier than expected, not that you were complaining.

you felt like a damn perv, eyeing up your boyfriend from the deck chair across from him, you knew he needed this time to relax, destress from the season, and what he didn't need was you wanting to fuck him every two seconds. but he was just as bad, he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off of your chest the second you’d gone out in your bikini.

quinn's head was back against the chair, eyes shut underneath his dark lensed glasses as he faced the sky, the sun shining on his already pink-tinged cheeks, you did warn him to wear suncream, his hands were comfortably sat on his stomach, but all you could look at were his short-clad thighs, the bright blue material standing out against his slightly tanned skin in a way that had you going feral.

you wanted him, needed him in every sense of the word. perhaps there was something wrong with you, the way you couldn't help but squeeze your legs shut as you thought about the way you wanted to use his thigh. "can feel you starin'" his voice broke through the silence, your thoughts punctured by reality when he tilted his head so his eyes could meet yours.

"admiring." you corrected him, a playful smile toying on your lights as he let out a laugh, sitting up and you couldn't help the glance towards his thighs, spread out across both sides of the chair and you were almost certain he was doing it on purpose.

his beard had grown out since the regular season had finished, still not having shaved it since they'd been eliminated from the playoffs and you were doing everything to deny the inevitable. you thought he looked hot with it, he always did to you but there was something about quinn with a beard that really did it for you.

"hm, and what're you admiring?" oh he'd definitely caught you staring, a blush blazing on your cheeks at the thought of his knowing how badly you wanted him, and he could tell your brain was about to short circuit when he beckoned you over; sitting you between his legs on the lounger. "well you gonna tell me?"

“you know what." you didn't make eye contact as you spoke, burying your head in his neck in embarrassment as he wrapped his arms around your back.

"do i? think i'm gonna need a reminder."

"quinn..." you dragged out his name, your cheeks still a burning shade of pink and you swore in that moment you'd die of embarrassment. his hand moved from behind your back to rest just under your chin, lifting your head enough to force you to look at him, his pupils more blown out than before.

he hummed in response, his lips on your neck in a second and you were forced to suck in a breath, hands pressed against his chest to regain balance when you found yourself grinding your hips down against his, a groan falling from his mouth muffled by your skin. "wanna ride your thigh, please q."

you felt quinn smile against your collarbone, his lips not leaving you when you felt his hands on your hips readjusting you over one of his thighs. "love it when you tell me what you want." he muttered against you, voice thick as it dripped with lust.

tilting your head to the side you allowed him more access to your neck, feeling the way he left opened mouthed kisses against you that you knew for certain would leave bruises later but in that moment you didn't care. it was a new sensation for you, the thick muscle underneath you and you gave an experimental roll of your hips against it, pleasure shooting through your body from the friction.

the growing pressure between your legs caused a few small moans to escape your mouth, the feeling slowly building. he moved his arm to join the other on your hip, being able to rock them more forcefully now. "is this what a few weeks without me does to you? gets you so desperate you'll ride my thighs?"

his hand forced your jaw up to look at him, your eyes still not meeting his and quinn couldn't help the laugh that fell from his lips. "been wanting to do this for a while yeah? keep seeing you looking at 'em."

the pace of your moving hips never faltered, the look he was giving you somehow adding to the growing pleasure, like he was almost impressed you could get yourself off like this, or more so that you'd been thinking about it to. "fuck, quinn, yes." his head tilted to the side, the hand on your jaw staying firm with one of his fingers tapping against the skin. "been thinking about this for so long."

your confession ignited a fire inside of him, a moan slipping from your lips as he tensed the muscle underneath you, helping you roll your hips against him in a way that nearly had you crying out. warmth pooled in your stomach, feeling the way you clenched around nothing as you continued rocking your body against his, desperate for any sort of release but he wasn't going to help you out.

"cmon baby, know you can get there yourself." he replied when you let out a whine about how it wasn't enough and you needed more, he gave in a little bouncing his leg and catching you off guard, adding to the sensation. the nature of his word made goosebumps raise on your arms despite the warm temperatures, feeling your nippled harden against your bikini top, and it sent a shiver down your spine in anticipation.

"'m so close, q," you moaned against his neck, heading falling into the curve of his shoulder as you bit down on the skin when he flexed under you again, sending a ripple of pleasure through your body.

"you gonna me a mess on my thigh? know you've been thinking 'bout it." you didn't even have to look to know quinn was grinning like the fucking cheshire cat, almost certain he was somehow enjoying this more than you were, his hands holding a tighter grip on your hips as he took over some of the work, pressing you against his thigh as you let out a louder whine of his name.

the coil in your stomach wound tighter, the rush of warmth throughout your body hitting you like a ton of bricks as your body collapsed against his, thighs shaking around his as you cried out, whimpers and whines as he took over, guiding your hips over his thigh as he helped you ride it out. when his grip against your waist didn't stop, the sensitivity causing you to whine into his shoulder.

"thats the hottest fucking thing i've ever seen." quinn could feel your heart still beating rapidly against his chest, spurring him on even more to get you to another orgasm on just his thigh. your thighs were still shaking around him, a little light headed when he spoke again. "one more?"

“quinn-" your voice was breathless when you tried to argue back, throat hoarse from before and you knew arguing was futile.

"know you can." his lips found your temple, reassuringly kissing it. "just like that." he swore he was going mad, hearing you whimpering into his shoulder again, not trusting your arms enough to be able to support you.

quinn's words of praise were a killer, enough to tip you over the edge whenever he wanted you to. you were putty in that mans hands the second he started sweet talking you.

just as before you felt the familiar feeling building in your stomach, much quicker than before, the muscles in your core already tensing. quinn could read your body like a book, not even needing to ask if you were closer before you were coming undone on his thigh again.

your nails dragged down his back, most likely going to leave red scratch marks for the next couple days, and he was thankful he didn’t have the boys to tease him about them this time. his hands stopped their movements of your hips, allowing you the minute or two you needed to come down from your high and catch your breath once again.

quinn pushed the fallen hair out of your face, lifting your lips to meet his in a soft kiss, tender, wanting nothing out of it but to show you that he loved you. “you're so good to me." his praise already igniting that feeling in your stomach again. “gonna need you to do that more often.”

you laughed against his chest, finding the strength to push yourself up to see his face, holding his jaw in your hands as you placed a chaste kiss to his lips, enjoying the scratch of his grown out stubble underneath your fingertips. “whilst we’re talking about kinks, you’re keeping the beard.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes smut #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes fluff #hockey fluff #hockey smut #hockey one shot #hockey imagine #nhl smut #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes one shot #scudevils #quinn hughes x reader

[rainylana]

“Don’t cry.”

Eddie Munson x female reader

summary: a spa session with your new boyfriend turns out to be both of your breaking points.

requested by anonymous! i hope you like it and that I did it justice! i kind of took it and ran. i made it much more deep than i initially planned, so i hope you like it!

warnings: talk of sexual abuse and rape, with both eddie and reader, angst and tears, language, mentions of drug dealing and absent parents. reader is struggling to connect with eddie and he doesn’t know why, kinda leaves in a cliffhanger??

Sometimes Eddie wondered if you liked him, because half the time it didn’t seem like you did. You’d become stand-offish, quiet, shrink in on yourself. His “Are you okay?” was always met with an “I’m fine.” and nothing more. It always seemed like you were protecting yourself. Not just from him, but from everyone. You loved his friends, but sometimes they scared you. You never knew who to trust. Would one of them hurt you, given the chance?

One thing was for sure though, you loved Wayne. He was like the father you never had growing up. From the way he talked, looked, his personality, it reminded you of a father. Eddie was extremely lucky to grow up with him while he did.

Eddie wasn’t stupid, however, he knew some of your behavior had to do with your upbringing. You’d shared some of it with him before, time and time again, here and there. You’d grown up pretty similarly to him. Dead beat parents that abused you, surrounded by their friends who eyed you like a piece of meat for them to chew on. When you grow up like that, you’re bound to be a little messed up. Eddie understood that. He was the same way.

But with you, it was different. He didn’t want you to feel that way around him. The relationship hadn’t been going on for that long and was still fairly fresh, but he wanted you to trust him. And even dating might have been a stretch, you were just very good friends who weren’t very good friends with anyone else.

You liked Eddie, maybe even loved him, but there was no lying when it came to the fact you were struggling to connect with him. Could you really trust him? Was he just like the men from your childhood? Would he fuck you and ultimately leave once he got his full satisfaction? You’d cried yourself to sleep many of times during the night at the thought.

Sometimes you didn’t feel safe. Not with him, not with his friends. You only ever felt truly safe with Wayne. You didn’t know why. You hated the way you felt. Eddie was a good man. He was good to you. He had yet to do anything that proved otherwise. But the dark corners of your mind lingered closer and closer to the edge, reminding you of what once was your reality on the daily. You hoped this time it was different.

“I like this color on you.” Eddie’s tongue was stuck out in concentration, one hand holding your foot, the other holding the brush of the pink nail polish bottle. “It’s cute.”

“Pink?” You smirked. “You like pink?”

“On you.” His lashes fluttered up to you briefly.

The gesture was cute, but anytime he did something sweet like this you couldn’t help but think if he was luring you into a trap. Your stomach was littered with jitters and nerves. Day by day your anxiety was staring to become more out of control. You thought about ending things with him. It wasn’t fair to him to not give the relationship your all, but you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You’d miss him dearly.

“Well, thanks.” You smiled softly. “I don’t like painting them by myself. The angle is too hard.”

He muttered a Mhm with his tongue out, blowing on your little toe so the pain would dry. “I used to paint my nails black when I was a teenager.” He said.

“Really?” You said amusedly. “Why’d you stop?”

“Got out of the habit, I guess.” He dipped the brush back in the bottle. “Plus, not that I cared, but kids at school were givin’ me shit about it.”

You knew Eddie had the same childhood you did, in some sense anyways. Eddie wouldn’t talk about it much, especially never about his mother. But his dad was something you knew struck a nerve. You should share your traumas together, that’s what you always told yourself. You knew you both could relate to one another, but the relationship was still too fresh. Maybe neither was ready for that.

“Want me to do your fingers?” Eddie asked, blowing on your last toe as he finished up his fine work. “I gotta say, babe, I did pretty good.”

You flexed your freshly painted toes and grinned at his work. “You did! Thank you.”

He put the bottle on the table and plopped down beside you on the couch, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “So what now? What’s next on the spa list?” He smirked and you did the same, laughing breathily.

“I won’t make you succumb to all my girly stuff.” You laughed. “Anything I can do for you? Your hair looks like it needs brushed a little.”

“What?” He gave you an incredulous look. “I keep my hair very much maintained, thank you.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t, Eddie.” You rolled your eyes. “All I said was it needed brushed a little.”

You hopped up and got your plastic hairbrush from the bathroom, pointing at him with it when you returned. “Your turn to be pampered. Sit on the floor.”

He shook his head amusedly and sat down where you had, your legs falling at the sides of his shoulders as you gently began combing out his curls. He didn’t mean to, but he sighed in content.

“Feel good?” You gave a shit eating grin.

“You’re a-lot gentler than Wayne used to be.” He relaxed under your touch. “He always pulled at my hair and got it more ratted up than it already was. This feels good.”

You smiled at the mention of Wayne. “Well, I’ve got a woman’s touch, honey.”

“Yes, you do.”

It was quiet and peaceful for a while as you brushed his hair, the both of you content in the silence. When he touched your ankle, caressing it, your heart began to pound. You hadn’t had sex with him yet. You were too scared to. You knew it was time, it had been almost two months and you knew Eddie had long since been ready to sleep with you.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to. You did. You fantasized about him just as much as he did you, but you were terrified of him leaving once you finally crossed that line. Out of instinct, you brought your legs up to you, sitting criss-cross like he was.

You heard him sigh and your stomach ached with guilt. You should give him what he wants.

“I’m sorry.” You say guiltily.

“You never let me touch you.” Eddie said flatly, staring at the ground as you continued to brush his hair. “And you won’t tell me why.”

Your eyes teared up and you stopped brushing, bringing it down to your lap. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s all you say.” He shook his head. “You don’t need to be sorry. You just need to tell me why I scare you so bad.”

“You don’t.” You denied, trying your hardest to convince him. When he said things like this, you felt foolish for thinking the way that you did. “It’s just- it’s- it’s just me.”

Eddie turned around, looking up at you to find you with tears in your face. “If it wasn’t true you wouldn’t be crying. Don’t I deserve the truth, Y/n? Have I don’t anything at all to make you scared of me?”

“No.” You sniffled, getting off the couch to go into the kitchen of his trailer. “You haven’t.”

Eddie watched you, becoming more and more anxious by the second. He sat there, waiting for his answer, anything but no. “Do you want to break up?”

“No!” You cried, shaking your head wildly. “No, that’s not what I want.”

“You don’t even like me, Y/n.” He scoffed to himself, closing in, becoming cold and shutting down. Something he hadn’t done in a long time. “You won’t open up to me. I can barely touch you. You look like you’re disgusted to be around me.”

“That’s not true!” You snapped, taking a step toward him. “Stop saying shit like that!”

“Then you say something for a change!” He argued back, not moving from his spot on the floor.

“But it’s so stupid!” You shook your head. “It’s ridiculous!”

He gave you a look. He was waiting and he wouldn’t back out this time. Either that, or he was going to break up with you. The thought made you want to vomit. Maybe you did care more deeply for him than you were letting on.

“We don’t talk about what happened when we were kids,” You sighed through tears, voice breaking. “We’re..both the same, but we don’t talk about it.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as you began, wondering after all, if he wanted to hear where you were going with this.

“Mom wasn’t around, so that left dad and his friends.” You stared at him, being as open and honest as you could now. There was no beating around the bush with this. “I…Jesus,” You shook your head, running a hand through your hair. “I didn’t know that it wasn’t normal at the time, but they’d…they’d use me.” You took a deep breath after the last word. No stopping now.

“They would play poker, touch me, rape me.” You weren’t crying anymore, talking mostly to yourself now at this point. “And I know you would never do that to me, Eddie, but sometimes I’m so afraid of it happening again and I just shut down.” You closed your eyes. “You touch me and I’m so afraid you’ll abandon me once we sleep together. That’s all anyone has ever done in my life.”

“Fuck me, then leave.” You sniffled. “That’s all they ever do.”

Eddie’s eyes were drooping, slightly narrowed and brows furrowed. He shook his head softly, you almost missed it, and you knew you’d made him at a loss for words.

He looked up to you briefly, licking his lips before he spoke. “There was this one guy my dad would deal for,” He began. “He was a big dude, almost seven foot. I was only thirteen. But dad would bring him into the house and he…would look at me. Just watch me wherever I went.” He stared at his hands, not daring to look at you.

“I think he payed dad.” His voice broke, but he refused to let any tears fall. “Because I screamed and screamed and he wouldn’t come.”

You let out an audibly gasp and covered your mask, your heart falling to the floor with a splat.

“Oh, god, Eddie,” You crawled to the floor and knelt beside him.

“It’s okay.” He stopped your apologies. “I didn’t tell you for you to be sorry for me. I told you because you need to know you’re not alone, and not everyone is out to get you. You’re safe with me. I want you to believe that.”

You let out a wet sob, tears rolling down your red face. “How do I stop being scared? I want to be with you.”

He smiled softly, a finger swiping at a tear. “We have all the time in the world for that, angel.”

You grabbed his arm and laid your head against his shoulder, sobbing like a broken child.

“Oh, baby,” He kissed your forehead. “Don’t cry.”

It would be a long road to recovery, but you could both do it together. Slowly, every day you would both open up to each other about what you went through, and day by day, it would get easier.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson angst #requests #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson blurb

[anakinsdove]

Sub sam monroe x fem friends hot older sister ❔

𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐰𝐧 | 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐫𝐨𝐞

pairing: sam monroe x older!fem!reader

summary: it’s been like what? 6 years since you saw sammy, he’s still as weird as he used to be, only prettier. After seeing him again you notice there some tension that wasn’t there before.

c/w: nsfw, loser Sammy, blowjob

discord - twitter: anakinsdove

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! ｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Love you

𝘄/𝗰 - 1,352

“What’s that for?” You ask your little rat of a brother why he’s suddenly carrying enough snacks to throw a party.

“Sam is coming over, he’s going to spend the night here” Your brother says as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, “Who?” “Sam” he rolls his eyes “Oh! Sammy, blonde, walks weird?” “Yes…” he’s slightly confused at your description then he realizes you haven’t seen Sam in a while…. A long while?

“He dyed his hair” your brother ads “Seriously?” You say sarcastically clearly faking interest trying to find something worth watching on tv “And he walks normally” “I’m sure he does”

“Anyways aren’t you a little bit too old for sleepovers?” Your condescending tone is very annoying to your brother but that’s what sisters do. “Aren’t you too old for Halloween?” “Huh?” Your brother smirks pointing at your makeup, you respond by throwing the pillow on the couch with enough force it feels like a brick, he runs upstairs

“coward” you mutter to yourself and suddenly someone’s knocking on the door

Someone’s knocking extremely loud

You decide to ignore it as you keep painting your nails but the knocking is very persistent and it gets louder somehow accidentally painting your toe “fucking loser” you curse under your breathe and stand up walking furiously towards the door.

“What!?” Your tone is harsh and the boy takes a step back, Sam looks stupid as he makes sure he’s in the right house “I-is James here?”

“Sam?” You ask softly this time, your anger quickly dissipating from your features, eyeing him up and down… wow.

“Hi Y/N”

You open the door for him to come in as he awkwardly goes through the door, he tries to keep his hips as far he can from yours while walking in, you sigh at the awkward silence

“How have you been-“ “You look very different-“ both of you say at the same time “You look the same” he says “I looks twelve?” God you’re making fun of him

Hes about to answer when your brother comes down running from the stairs “Sorry dude I was taking a shit!” He greets him as you stand aside

“Don’t talk to her Sam” your brother says smirking “Shut up man” they run upstairs and you shrug trying to shake the awkwardness away

You keep trying to distract yourself with tv but it isn’t fucking working

Sam Monroe….

He looked so different from what you remembered, he’s taller, there’s a lot of piercings stuff on his face and you’re pretty sure he was wearing eyeshadow.. his hair now it’s black… funny because you remembered him being blonde and looking like a puppet, you giggle at the thought… Oh! and his clothes, he was wearing a Metallica t shirt, Vintage….

You moan and you realize you been rubbing your clit through your panties this whole time then gasping in embarrassment and closing your legs

What a slut… what if someone saw you rubbing your cloth on your living room, that would be a reason to kill yourself, what if Sam saw you like that?… that however doesn’t sound as bad

Control yourself Y/n

A few hours later the sun has set… you succeeded distracting yourself and as soon as Sam leaves you won’t have to see him again you’ll forget this awkward chapter in your life where you masturbated to the thought of your younger brother’s friend until… “Why me man!?” “Cause I’m about to win this level” “Youre shit at the game” “Shut up!” you hear the boys arguing upstairs “It’s just fucking popcorn Sam” your brother mocks him as Sam sighs coming down the stairs

You can’t help but look up at him “Hey” Sam stops midway “Hey” he tries to sound and look relaxed, but when did your boobs get so big?

“Pop corn?” You asks pointing at the box he’s holding in his hand “I’ll burn them” he says

“It’ll be my brothers fault” you laugh and Sam smiles “C’mon” you guide him to the kitchen and put the popcorn in the stove “You look very different too” he responds to your earlier conversation, you smirk at the opportunity of teasing “Really? I thought I looked twelve” “Fuck no” he suppresses a laugh and you nod playfully “Well, maybe a little” “Fuck off” you push him playfully and his back makes contact with the counter “You still have your dimples when you smile” your heart actually softens at his comment “You don’t look like a puppet anymore” he rolled his eyes “I meant that in some ways you look the same but in other- other ways you look very different” he stares at you collarbone

“Sam?” You take a step forward “It’s mean to look at girls boobs when they’re talking” he freezes “I was not-“ you grab his bicep “I always knew you liked me” Sam is really about to die or kill himself, whatever is option is quicker… instead he grabs your waits and pulls you to him then freezes again “You want to kiss me Sammy?” His gaze switches from your eyes to your lips, to your boobs that look so good in that thank top, then your lips again, his lips hesitantly meet you in a clumsy kiss… but then you find out he’s so hungry for this, teeth clatter and he hums into your mouth, his hands shaking as he holds your waist…. You pull away teasingly as he tries to chase your lips but you have other plans like kissing his neck

“Fuck” he moans, his little sound has you clenching your thighs, you need this boy asap…as you nibble and suck his neck then pulling away again “Sam” “What?” He says breathlessly

“Can I suck you off?” WHAT THE FUCK he nodds shakily and you get on your knees “J-James?” Sam’s says as he watches you unbuckle his belt “Don’t talk about my fucking brother when I’m going to give you a blowjob” “Sorry..” “He’s playing, he wont find out.” You try to reassure this poor boy as he nods shakily “I promise” you unzip his pants and take his boxers down urgently, it’s too much, you hear the popcorn popping, heavy breathe, the waves crashing distantly… his cock slapped against his stomach… Sam looks down at you in awe

You start stroking him, watching the angry red tip leaking already, “w-wait wait I’m gonna c-cum” Sam warns virgins you think to yourself and force yourself to stop stroking him, if he’s gonna fucking cum he’s cumming down your throath tonight “fine” you say angrily and take him down your throat “Fuck!” Sam moans as his shaky hand tangles in your hair pushing you down further “I can’t I can’t I’m sorry” his eyes roll back and his back arches, your wet lips wrapping around his thick cock…. Sucking him sloppy it’s just so much

He doesn’t know why god is on his side tonight but he’s not complaining, he beats himself mentally, he seeing stars, fireworks exploding behind his eyes and all that cringy shit he once heard, now he knows it’s real, he feels your tongue massaging the underside of his cock and you make something with your tongue where it licks at his balls slightly and-

“Fuck!” He yells as he cums…. Thick ropes of cum hit the back of your throath, he tastes salty…

Your doe eyes look up at him seductively as you keep licking his tip, his legs tremble as he spasms, he has to push you away so he doesn’t pass out

You finally release his cock from your mouth “breathe Sammy….” “Fuck sorry I-“ his breathe is heavy “Shhh….” You kiss his lips softly so he tastes his own cum…..

“You’re sleeping here right?” He nodds

“Come to my room at 2:00 AM” he nodds again and you know this boy is completely at your mercy

“Oh and Sammy….. your popcorn” you point to the stove and evident smoke “Shit!” Sam runs and trips over his pants, pulling them up quickly and trying to not burn your damn house.

masterlist 𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗸𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗱𝗼𝘃𝗲 © --- all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/ copying will be tolerated.

dividers - @i92-93

(Im very sorry for the absence! I been pretty much busy and a little unmotivated to write but I’ll try to post another fic this week, this was a little bit rushed but I hope you like it)

@anakinsbbgirl

#sam monroe x reader #sam monroe x you #sam monroe smut #sam monroe imagine #sam monroe hayden christensen #sam monroe life as a house #hayden christensen smut #hayden christensen characters #hayden christensen fluff #hayden christensen

[expirednukacola]

ORANGE COLORED SKY 🏜️ || Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader

𐚁⊹₊ ⋆☆

My first fic about this bonafide work of ART! AKA The one and only, Cooper Howard / The Ghoul. This MAN has everyone lined up to get a taste so I am here to deliver! This is also a little surprise for @lexiway121!!! Reader is fem and in her mid-ish - late-ish 20s in this fic! This will also be a two part fic!! ..Maybe even more. SUMMARY: reader is little miss janey’s babysitter (cooper is going to need all the help he can get ESPECIALLY DURING A DIVORCE) and reader was invited to the kids birthday party (seen in the beginning of ep 1) as cooper’s plus two just to keep an extra eye on janey and the horse/sugarfoot. after the bombs were dropped and a couple hundred years of “beauty sleep” and a decade of getting use to the wastelands go by, reader is now.. a fucking ghoul.

og gif made by: @lousolversons !!

“Flash! Bam! Alakazam!”

“Out of an orange colored sky!”

The birthday party was going perfectly! You and Janey were standing somewhat near Cooper as he did his lasso tricks on his beloved horse, Sugarfoot. The birthday boy, alongside with his plethora of friends, were all staring and gasping in awe as the cowpoke twirled the lasso up and down to where he was inside of the spinning circle of rope. Cooper noticed their precious, little reactions and smiled back at his audience, a tender yet low chuckle escaping his throat.

Seeing how happy he looked and smiled as well, your cheeks became a tad bit blushed.. definitely from the L.A. heat — and that’s when Janey looked up at her and noticed how you, her babysitter, were smiling at her dad.. “Twitterpated..” -Was what the seven year old mumbled under her breath; she really needed to slow her roll on asking her dad what certain words meant. You, on the other hand, didn’t quite hear what Janey mumbled so you jokingly decided to peep out a little, “What was that, sweetie?” and all you got in response was an “innocent” little “Nothiiiiiiiing!”

After a few minutes of continuing his lasso show, Cooper got off his trusty stead and adjusted Sugarfoot’s saddle with such care while Janey rushed over to try and help her father. “Alright, birthday boy,” The cowboy said while looking at the VERY excited kid, “Let’s get a photo of ya up here on Sugarfoot.” As Cooper picked up the boy to place him on the horse while his daughter held onto the reigns, the birthday boy’s dad and his buddy, aka Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle-Dipshit, start talking about Cooper Howard.

“Why the hell is Cooper Howard workin’ kids’ birthday parties?” The dad’s friend muttered as he held onto a bottle of some pretty cheap beer, and the dad responded with the most embarrassing answer known to man, “What else? Alimony.” The asshole said nonchalantly before he went back to nursing his shitty bottle of beer. That made Cooper whip his head around to look at the father with his mouth slightly agape, flabbergasted he would even bring that shit up at his kid’s party. To make things worse, sweet Janey popped up and asked the billion dollar question.. “What did they say, dad?”

Cooper looked down at his precious little angel with a quiet yet warm voice, “That I’m lucky to have such a good helper like you.” Poor, innocent Janey didn’t know what was going on between her Dad and Momma. All she knew was that she would have some very long weekends with her Momma and her Grandma and then she would go back to stay with her tired Dad.

Knowing what Cooper was going through and hearing those horrible words come out of that assholes mouth, you glared at the boy’s father so hard that he could fucking feel it. The dad looked back at you and rolled his eyes, pointing at you while muttering, “Some people say he cheated on his wife with his kid’s babysitter.” That was the last fucking straw and you wanted to smack the living daylights out of him. “Are you fucking kidding me, you goddamn pig-” You muttered but Janey quickly grabbed onto your hand with that same sweet smile she always had.

The anger that boiled inside of your body slowly began to simmer down into nothingness as you moved out of the way so the dad (AKA the head honcho of being an asshole) could take a photo of his son on top of the horse with Cooper standing next to him and little Janey holding onto the reigns, “All right- You ready?” The dad positioned the camera and even though the kid had a smile that was brighter than the 4th of July, the cowboy’s smile seemed.. off. Usually, Cooper would have these sweet dimples on either side of his mouth when he would smile real big for photos or when his daughter would do something extraordinary.. But those dimples weren’t there for these pictures.

Click!

After the photo was taken, the cowpoke carefully lifted up the giddy child from the saddle on Sugarfoot to the soft and lush green grass beneath them. Cooper was just about to check up on you and his daughter, but- “Hey, honey- Honey! Get with Cooper. Let’s get a picture.” -Mayor Asshat of Assville motioned the man to stand next to his wife. Though Cooper was a little awkward about the whole ordeal, he quickly posed up next to the wife and had that fake smile on his face once more.

Click!

“Aw- Coop, Coop, Coop! Do your thumbs-up.” The jerkwad ordered and right as you were about to intervene, Cooper (sorta) stood his ground and quickly responded with, “..Yeah, you know, given the state of everything, I prefer not to, if that’s all right.” But guess what? Señor Shit-for-brains wasn’t having it because being an asshole was in his damn genes. “Why not?” asked Count Fuckhead-ula, “It’s what you’re famous for.” he added right after but his wife, the one with common sense in the relationship, told “Bob” to drop it.

“We- uh.. We gotta get this rodeo on the road.” Cooper said with his head tilted slightly downwards towards the vibrant green grass beneath his worn leather boots while the boy’s mother handed him a check. Quickly, you grabbed onto the reigns that hung from Sugarfoot’s neck and clicked your tongue to get the horse to start walking. “..Well that was just fuckin’ lovely, huh Sugar?” Muttering solemnly under your breath, you walked alongside the sweet stead, tying the beautiful horse up to a tree so it wouldn’t run loose.

A good 5 minutes roll on by like a tumbleweed and You were walking around with Cooper by your side.. while the two of you were picking up giblets of trash left behind by some kids and adults. “I never thought that I was going to be doing this at a kid’s birthday party, Mr. Howard. Picking up trash after people is not what I had planned.” You stood back up after having to bend over to pick up an empty bottle of orange flavored Nuka Cola. “Oh yeah? What did you have planned, missy?” Cooper looked over at you with one of his eyebrows raised up and a smirk growing on his lips.. those gorgeous lips alongside those beautiful hazel eyes- “Uhhh- I don’t know? Maybe mingle with some of the parents and swipe myself a piece of cake. I heard it was chocolate cake.” A little smile grew on your face but your blooming happiness all went to waste when you saw “Bob the Shit Talker” staring at both of you through the window.

“But for a grown ass man to talk shit about us with his lil buddy and then having us pick up trash left by him and his guests was definitely not on my list.” You angrily sneered at the man who continued to glare at you two through the window before letting out a loud and deep sigh. Cooper, God bless this sweet man’s soul, quickly stood up and looked at you. “He did.. what? I knew he was talking shit about me but he and Mr. Clean were talking about you? ..Fuck- It was that rumor again, huh?”

The sweet-hearted cowboy looked up at the sky as if he were silently praying to God himself to smite down that piece of shit before he looked over at your slightly blushed to make sure you weren’t boo-hooing over something that wasn’t even true. He knew you didn’t have to answer him because the look of embarrassment on your face was all he needed to know.. but at least you weren’t crying.

After a few minutes of some much needed silence, you both made your way back to Janey, who was eyeing that delicious chocolate cake as she wrapped her own little lasso around her hand. You saw how Janey was looking at that cake.. and you started to look at the cake the same way the little girl was staring at that frosted piece of heaven.

“Why didn’t you do it?” Janey’s words snapped you out of your hungered staring contest with the cake. You looked down at the little girl that was looking at her father, who was now crouched down next to her. “The thumbs-up.” Oh shit.. She just accidentally busted open a huge ass can of Marine flashbacks for Cooper. At first, he tried to make her forget about it by telling her it was “grown up business” but those sweet, sweet eyes of hers were just too much for his heart to handle.

You crouched down next to the girl and gently placed a hand on her upper back, gently rubbing your thumb against the material of her button up’s collar. “Honey.. The reason why your dad doesn’t like having his thumb up is because-” Your words were cut off from Cooper clearing his throat and placing a hand on your shoulder, immediately making you shut up so he could be the one to explain it to his daughter. The older man explained what they taught him when he was in the Marines to his daughter, telling her that he and his fellow marines would hold up their thumbs whenever a bomb would drop. If the cloud of smoke was smaller than their thumbs, they had to run for the hills.. and if the cloud was larger than their thumbs, they wouldn’t even have to worry about running.

“..Who wants some cake?” You chirped out awkwardly while standing up, brushing your hands against your top before placing them on your hips. Janey’s eyes immediately lit up with absolute joy from the thought of having a slice of cake, and she quickly nodded her head with her hands clasped together. “I’ll see if I can snag you girls a couple o’ pieces, ‘kay?” The infamous cowboy stood up as well and walked inside of the house and you decided to join him to grab your own slice of heaven.

FLASH!

Once Cooper grabbed his daughter a slice and you grabbed your own, you two rejoined his little angel once more but instead of seeing her sweet smile shining brightly on her face, you were both met with her holding up her thumb and a horrified look on her face. Her body was trembling, her bottom lip was quivering, her eyes were tearing up, and when she spoke, she sounded like she was looking Death itself straight in the eyes..

“Is it your thumb or mine?”

…

“It’s just a fire..”

You could hear the dread in his voice and the sound of her little heart pounding against her ribcage as you followed their gazes to a.. large cloud of smoke and destruction. Your own heart start to rapidly beat profusely inside your body and your eyes widened in terror as a wave of radiation started coming your way. Everything felt as if it were in slow motion as you and Cooper both decided to crouch down to clutch Janey close to your bodies to shield her from any harm.

As the wave finally passed through, the glass windows shattered into millions of shards varying from large pieces to microscopic fragments and felt one of the medium sized pieces plunge itself into the side of your calf. “Oh GOD!!” A horrifying shriek of pain found its way from out of your body as Cooper quickly scooped both you and his daughter up in his arms, quickly running towards his much needed horse, Sugarfoot.

BAM!

Dread pulses throughout your body while your eyes darted across the scene around you — Parents with their sons and daughters in their arms, people running around aimlessly like ants after a menace of a child stepped on their nest, and the screams and cries of frightened young children wanting to go home. You’re pulled out of your frightened state when Cooper tried to push you up on Sugarfoot after he placed his daughter up on the saddle. “Cooper.. Cooper! No!! Get Janey out of here! You have to get her out of here!!” You pushed yourself away from him and stumbled back, your limp leg giving its all to keep you somewhat supported.

“Y/N- Get on the damn horse! I can’t just leave you here!” He tried to pull you back towards him but you limped back away from him once more. “You need to get her out of here, Coop.. Please.” Tears welled up in your eyes and they fell down your cheeks when they became too heavy for your eyes to hold. “Please.. Go- Get out of here!!” You pushed him away and back towards the horse, and you swore you saw him shed a lone tear.

As more bombs fell from the sky, you watched in grief as your beloved cowboy hop on his horse and grabbed on the reigns, immediately whipping them a little to signal Sugarfoot to get the fuck out of there — away from the chaos and away from the horror.. away from you. You dropped to your knees as you bawled your pretty little eyes until there were no more tears to shed.. and when you heard the faint whistle of a bomb dropping nearby.

ALAKAZAM!

This was the end, you thought. The end of the world, the end of your life, and the end of everything and everyone that you loved.. and the beginning of a new age: The beginning of a nuclear fallout. As you kneeled down on the green grass that was way too vibrant to be real, you tilted your head upwards and looked towards the sky, smiling one last time before your skin began to burn, your insides feeling as if they were being cooked at a thousand degrees, your voice becoming rasped and broken as you screamed in complete and utter agony. You took your final breath of irradiated air underneath that hideous orange colored sky.

THE END ..?

—————

thank you so much for reading the first chapter of Orange Colored Sky! i hope you liked it as much as i did and i hope you can excuse the.. nicknames i gave “bob” at the beginning (he deserved it though! he was an asshole for absolutely no reason.)

TAG LIST: @lexiway121

#cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #the ghoul fallout #the ghoul fanfic #cooper howard fallout #cooper howard fanfiction #fallout #fallout amazon #expirednukacola

[dumbandfunn]

how cowboy!rafe and spoiled!reader met

it was a usual friday night in the local bar, the few regular rowdy ranchers and the occasional couple passing through just to grab a drink for their journey. it was nothing new. not until the door swung open more aggressively than usual and low and behold you stood in your pretty white sundress, mascara stained under eyes and demanding somebody to tell you “where the hell you were.” rafe had been on high alert the minute he lay his eyes on you, telling his usual drinking crowd to shut up while he took a sip of the whiskey he had been clinging to the entire night. you looked so helpless, fragile, rambling to the bar tender who seemed to not care about anything but how low the cut on your dress was. his eyes were trailing from where you had perched yourself back to the pervy wandering heads from the countless men who had all fallen silent at the chaos you had created from nothing. “are you even listening to me,” you pout, lip still wobbling whilst you slammed a hand down against the wooden counter. “i need somebody to help me, im lost and—” you sniffle.

an older man sitting across from you had piped up with an “ain’t nobody gon’ help you in these parts little lady, not with that attitude,” and that only made you cry harder. “but i’m lost,” you huff out, your tears quick to turn to the sweetest angry pout rafe had probably ever seen as you turn to the few people who were only watching in amusement, oh how they hated pretentious city girls. rafe’s eyebrows were raised, maybe it was then, as you started to bicker with a rancher twice your size that he needed to know more about you. and why the hell a girl like you was in a place like this in the first place. you left with a pretty loud bratty scream after nobody showed any interest in helping you, the distant laughs of the scene you’d caused echoing behind you as you sniffled back your tears and kicked at the car that had put you in the unfortunate situation in the first place. it wasn’t like rafe to follow, especially after someone like you, not that he came across anyone like that much in the first place. a clearly spoiled, city princess. maybe it was just the little white dress you were wearing, maybe he was just as pervy as the rest. he just couldn’t leave a little helpless thing like you to your own devices in a place he knew too well. or maybe he just needed you the second his pants got a little tighter when you were leaning across the bar a few minutes prior.

but less than two seconds after your tantrum he was hot on your heels, waving off the whistles that followed when the doors swung behind him. “so y’need help?”

a knight in shining armour, just a minute too late, it was tantrum city now after not getting your way.

“not from any of you anymore,” you spat out, folding your arms over your chest, narrowing your eyes at the young man who took a small step closer, taking his hat off and raising both hands up in defense, “well, you didn’t choose the best place to come cryin’ for help, alright, s’all i’ll say doll.” “—so y’gonna tell me what happened or you just gon’ sit here cryin’ all night,” he mutters out. you frown up at him, clearly in a conflict about standing your ground or getting out of the hell your car had broken down in. maybe your stubbornness had gotten the better of you, how you turned your nose up at him and quickly looked away, only for a hand to land firmly on your jaw a minute later, squishing your cheeks and staring you down with those stern blue eyes. “i told you this not the place to come cryin’ for help, s’tell me whats wrong before i go back inside and leave you here all on your own, hm? you want that?”

you shook your head almost immediately, eyes widened and lips parted. nobody had spoken to you like that in your entire life. and the way your eyebrows creased and your lip started to vibrate again, rafe knew he had you right where he wanted you. “my car broke down, can you fix it” you whisper.

“they don’t teach you manners in the city?”

you managed to squeak out a please, just as his free hand reached to brush a few stray hairs out of your face, licking his thumb and swiping the clumps of mascara from under your eyes. “now that wasn’t so hard was it doll?” and you shook your head again, nervous and chewing down on your bottom lip. he really did have you right then and there, someone who could handle your tantrums and someone who could knock the attitude from your lungs with something as simple as an eyebrow raise.

everyone was shocked to see you curled under rafe’s arm the following friday in his usual corner of the same bar, feet swinging and dazed. nobody would dare say a bad word about you again.

#🐆 #idk how i feel about this oop #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe obx #bratty! reader

[aurasplanet]

TOO CUTE carl grimes x fem!reader

warnings — both are 18+, another repost of an old fic, fingering, super short i’m sorry i wanted to get something out </3

it was a normal occurrence for you to sit in carl’s room while he read comics. it was late at night and the two of you always sat together, just in silence doing your own things.

what wasn't normal though, the heat that appeared between your legs every time you dared to even look at your best friend.

you didn't know why, maybe you were just so severely touched starved that any attractive person you looked at made you feel that weird feeling. and it just so happened to be carl.

or maybe you're just realizing how attractive his hands are, his fingers wrapped around the page sticking out the most to you. you hadn't noticed when you started rubbing your thighs together, focused on carl while you subtly looked over your book at him.

you peek down at your legs and halt your movements in embarrassment and your eyes go back to carl just to see him already looking at you with a smirk.

he stands up, "what are you doing?" his voice is sincere but his cocky face gives away that he knows exactly what you were doing. he makes his way to his bed, leaning over you. you don't answer him, you just look away.

he tsks, grabbing your chin with his hand, the same one you'd been caught staring at only moments before. he lets his other hand travel to your legs, finding purchase on your thighs and caressing them.

"answer me." he chuckles when you shy away.

"nothing."

"didn't look like nothing to me?" his fingers slowly start to pull the band of your pajama shorts down.

your hands grab his shirt and you hide your head in his chest. carl 'aw's at you in fake sympathy. he moves your underwear to the side and his fingers dip down to your pussy, sliding through your folds to collect some of your wetness.

you whine into his shirt, "too cute," he speaks to himself, slowly inserting a finger into you. he curls it upwards, eyes trained on you for a bad reaction. all you did was curl your upper body into him further, your hips pushing into his hand.

he gets the message, entering another finger before pumping them in and out of you. he groaned, feeling you quivering around his fingers. his free hand found it's way in your hair, lightly tugging to get you to look up at him.

your eyes were doe-like and watery, and your lips were in a pout. he swore you never looked cuter. his thumb began rubbing your clit and the little hiccup you let out made his pants feel just a little tighter.

he ran his thumb over your bottom lip, muttering something about how pretty you were before leaning in to connect your lips. his fingers were picking up their speed, your hand coming down to hold his wrist while you tried to focus on the kiss.

you felt a knot building in your stomach causing you to whimper into his mouth. the closer you felt the more you clung to carl, the hand on his wrist landing on his thigh, nails digging into the pant-covered skin.

you sigh into his mouth as you come undone, body relaxing against his. he pulls away to look at you, your eyes shut and your hole still spasming around his still fingers.

his thumb runs along your cheek and he smiles at you fondly. "tell me next time, i'll help you baby."

#carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes x you #carl grimes #carl grimes smut #twd x reader #twd oneshot #twd imagine #twd smut #twd fanfiction #carl grimes oneshot #carl grimes imagine #carl grimes x fem!reader

[moonstruckme]

I had an art show tonight and no one showed up(strangers did, but my friends and fam didn't. They were all too busy i guess). If it's okay with you could I get some comfort from Robin? I need my beautiful girlfriend to hug me 😔😪🤧

I'm really sorry it went down like that sweetheart, I hope the show was good overall and you feel more supported if you do it again! Thanks for requesting <3

Robin Buckley x fem!reader ♡ 473 words

“I think it went well, right?” Robin sits atop the one table you haven’t folded up yet, eating mini brownies right out of the tray. “I mean, plenty of people came, and that one lady said she’ll come to your next one, too. You gave tons of people your info.” 

“Yeah.” You try to sound upbeat, packing away the last of your pieces and joining her on the table. “You’re right, it wasn’t bad.” 

Your girlfriend turns her head to look at you, mouth puckering. “Okay, you say that, but you’re still looking all mopey.” 

“Sorry,” you sigh. “I just wish they’d come.” 

The bridge of her nose wrinkles, pretty eyes squinting distastefully. “Whatever. More brownie bites for us,” she says, popping another one in her mouth. 

You try to laugh, but it’s not very convincing. Robin’s expression creases further. 

“Sorry,” she says around the brownie. Swallows. “Sorry, it’s just, it’s shitty. It is.” She hops down from the table, standing between your knees. Her ringed hands travel up the outsides of your thighs. “You were amazing today. Like, seriously. You were so good at talking to people, and everyone wanted to hear about your art, and they should, because it’s the fucking coolest, you know?” She looks into your face, seemingly to make sure you do know, and she doesn’t push you when you look away. 

“It really sucks that they didn’t get to see it,” she says, so earnestly disappointed it makes the ache of your own heart worsen. 

You twine your arms loosely around her neck, and Robin doesn’t need more urging to hug you, pushing in between your legs as her hands slide up around your lower back. You’re just taller than her like this, her face pushing into your shoulder while your cheek squishes against her hair. She holds you tight around your middle, fingers clutching at your shirt like you’ll disappear if she’s not careful. 

“We should stop going to any of their things,” she mumbles, turning her face into your neck so the words vibrate against your skin. “There are too many birthdays in a year anyway.” 

You laugh, for real this time. “No, I don’t think I’m that mad.” 

“This is the problem,” Robin sighs, though she sounds happier than before. “You’re too nice.” 

“Like you would do any different if you were me.” 

She makes a cute disgruntled sound, hugging you tighter. Something in your chest lightens. “It’s different when it’s you. I have more of a thirst for vengeance.” 

“Sorry.” You turn your face into the crown of her head, lips curving. “I hate to leave you unquenched.” 

Robin’s quiet for a second, thoughtful. “Can I at least make pointed comments about how cool your show was the next time we see them?” 

“I mean, if you really want to.” 

“Oh, I do.”

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x fem!reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley x you #robin buckley x self insert #robin buckley fanfiction #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley fic #robin buckley hurt/comfort #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley scenario #robin buckley drabble #robin buckley blurb #robin buckley one shot #robin buckley oneshot #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fandom #stranger things x reader

[yuuuhiii]

hiiii! can i get a jjk matchup for reader who is energetic and loud most of the time, but when they're alone with their s/o, they're actually very cuddly and giggly all the time? thanks 🥰

I match you with CHOSO

Choso fell in love with you at first glance. However, he didn’t know that. The sound of your laughter had the hairs on the back of his neck standing up.

It was new to him and automatically he thought you were a threat. How when he stared at you he was afraid his heart was going to burst out of him.

Was this your curse technique?

“Yuuji.” He calls out and Yuuji stops abruptly looking around.

“Hm? What happened.” He blinks and Choso points right at you, making Yuuji slap his hand.

“No pointing! What’s wrong with her?” He says in concern and Choso raised a brow at you.

“It’s weird, I don’t feel any cursed energy but she’s making me feel weird, very weird.” Yuuji looks horrified for a second but then he thinks. Then he smiles, deciding to egg him on.

“Like what?” Yuuji plays stupid.

“I don’t know. I’m attracted to her though. She’s a very pretty woman.” Choso keeps it short.

Yuuji takes it upon himself to talk to you. You’re a little confused as the man stands there awkwardly, making direct eye contact with you. He was attractive and whoever this kid was, sure was good wingman with the way he was hyping him up. You laugh at the boy.

“Ok , ok. Here’s my number.” When you look at him you smile and you watch his eyes widen and blink, his cheeks turning pink.

Choso swears he’s the most luckiest man to ever walk this earth. He’s only been a human for a bit and you’ve truly shown him what it’s like to feel alive. Everyday is a new day with you and it just makes living all the more fun.

Although he loves the times when you both are behind closed doors. In the comfort of your guys bed and in each others arms. He wonders how you can make him feel so loved or just feel all of these things in general. He’s still trying to figure things out but having you by his side has made things so much easier for him.

Choso laid with his head on your stomach. You combed your hands through your hair, smiling at your boyfriend going in and out of sleep.

“Cho? Just go to bed.” You laugh and he blinks, trying to stay awake he cuddles closer to you.

“I can’t, I’m watching the show with you.” He says groggily, you giggle and he smiles softly at the sound.

“S’ok, I’ll turn it off.”

He nods and grabs the remote, clicking the tv off. He immediately scoots next to you, pulling you directly in to him. He tucks your head in between the crook of his neck as he strokes your hair. You smile against him and he finds himself smiling as well.

“Why are you smiling?” He asks and you let out a pleased sigh.

“Because, I love you.” You say with a peck to his jaw and he flushes.

“I love you too, forever.” He whispers, placing a sweet kiss against your temple.

© yuuuhiii 24 : don’t plagiarize, translate, or post my work on other platforms

#—ai’s 1k event٩(๑❛ᴗ❛๑)۶ #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso x female reader #choso fluff #choso drabbles #choso imagine #choso scenario #choso headcanons #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk imagines #jjk drabbles #jjk fluff #jjk scenarios #jjk headcanons

[noproofread]

The Captain's Brother (NSFW)

"Take me for one last ride, I'm out of my head tonight. The sound of the waves collide."

aaaah the deftones...

been in a tough writers block for a couple months but this deftones song brought me back to life.

Ace x afab!reader (no pronouns, feminine traits).

straw hat reader. Ace is hitching a ride with the straw hats, reader tries to avoid him. dom ace (kinda sorta), smut with feelings lol, unprotected sex (whoops), light praise.

word count: 1,434

masterlist here

The Going Merry rocked as the waves moved under the boat. Droplets of water touched your skin as you breathed in the fresh air, watching the blue horizon. You felt a light tap on your shoulder, prompting you to turn. “Need some company?” The orange hat-wearing pirate spoke, smiling slightly as he looked at you. “Don’t mind it.” You replied, turning back to your meditative view. Luffy had introduced him as his brother Ace, although you knew him as Whitebeard’s 2nd division commander “Fire Fist” Ace. You never imagined having a casual conversation with him, but then again you never imagined you’d be sailing with a pirate from the Worst Generation.

“Not a huge talker huh?” Ace attempted to make conversation with you. Admittedly, you were introverted. Not the best thing to be when you’re a pirate but you thrived more behind the scenes instead of front line combat anyway. “Not much to say.” You shrugged. “What? You don’t like me?” He pouted, trying to make you laugh. It got a chuckle out of you. “I’m just a person with few words, Cowboy. My mom always told me I was prettier when I was quiet.” You laughed softly, your eyes glued to the sea moving below. “Well I disagree with your mom.” You could feel Ace’s eyes on you. Fighting the urge to look at him, you waited in silence to hear his reasoning. “I bet you’re pretty when you’re loud.”

You felt your face heat up, surely radiating red from his comment. You immediately found alternate meanings to his words. Loud as in talking, laughing. That’s what he means. You told yourself to rid yourself of any lewd thoughts that had catapulted themselves from the back of your subconscious. Ace laughed loudly. You impulsively smacked the back of his hat. Hitting was your way of flirting, you didn’t know what else to do. Ace fixed his hat and smiled at you. You found yourself giggling and smiling with him. Sure, you thought he was attractive. But Ace was your captain’s brother and the last thing you wanted was to make the energy on the ship awkward. “I’m right, aren’t I?” He held your gaze, you couldn’t look away this time. “About what?” You asked innocently. Ace shook his head, chuckling under his breath. “Gonna make me work for it?” My, he’s bold. But what else could you expect from such a prolific pirate? You thought.

The eye contact between you felt more intense. The thumping of your heart grew louder within your ears. You bit your lip in nervousness. Ace smirked at you, taking one step closer towards you. It was the sound of Luffy’s blaring laugh that disrupted the thick tension forming in the air. Your head snapped in the direction of the cackling. “Is my brother more important?” Ace teased. You smiled, not looking at him. “He is my captain.” You said, earning a chuckle from him. “He wouldn’t mind if you spent a couple minutes entertaining his dear brother though. I should know; I’m the brother.” He reached out and grabbed your chin, making you look at him.

Your heart was beating so fast you thought it would explode. “All I want…” His voice had gone soft as he was now standing mere centimeters from you. “Is to see if I’m right.” His eyes trailed down to your lips as he licked his own. You mustered up the courage to speak. “Right about what?” Your voice came out barely a whisper. “That you’re pretty when you're loud.” The last words spoken in a hurry as he immediately kissed you. His hands traveled towards the small of your back, pulling you closer to him. You felt his body heat radiating as his lips moved with yours. The kiss grew more passionate and your arms had found their way around his neck. “Ugh, get a room. I want to sleep.” Zoro’s voice interrupted the heated moment, making the both of you break away. Ace laughed, his hands still holding on to you. Zoro sat on the floor, leaning against the railing of the Merry as he shooed you both away. Ace took your hand and sprinted towards whatever door was closest.

As soon as that door closed behind you his lips assaulted your neck, leaving a trail of messy kisses behind. You gasped at the contact of his lips against your skin. His hands caressed your arms as you felt him lightly lick and nip at your neck. “Ace” You whispered out, making him return to your eye level. He chuckled, his breath hitting the side of your neck. It made you shiver. You gazed into his eyes, your head spinning from the spontaneous act. The rush of endorphins and adrenaline flowing through your body. You reached up and grabbed his hat, taking it off and placing it onto your head. You saw Ace redden as you adjusted the hat on your head. He bit his lip before grabbing you by the waist.

Ace pulled you close, kissing you deeply before breaking away to look into your eyes. You felt hot, the air around was thick as you both breathed heavily. He gently lifted you off the ground before hoisting you up against a wall, placing himself between your legs. The position he put you in made your arousal dampen your underwear. You moaned softly as he kissed you, one hand roaming freely under your top. With every touch of his fingertips he left behind a trail of fire on your skin. You bucked your hips, signaling to him that you wanted him. The heat of the situation made you forget every excuse you ever had to not approach him. Nothing mattered anymore, you just wanted him.

Ace met your eyes, his pupils were dilated. You didn't need to speak, he understood what your gaze meant. He let you down, allowing the both of you to undress. You felt the cool breeze hit you as you removed your undergarments. Looking up to see Ace admiring your body. He sucked air between his teeth before ravishing you once again. His body flushed against yours. You hopped up, wrapping your legs around his waist. The position alone was enough for a groan of anticipation to escape your lips.

Ace smirked before whispering into your ear. “I’m going to enjoy testing my theory.” With one of his hands he aligned himself with your entrance. Your breath hitched as you felt him lowering you down onto him, his tip almost teasing you. You closed your eyes, focusing on the agonizingly slow feeling of him entering you. You pursed your lips to hold back your moans. “Tsk. Tsk. That won't do.” Ace scolded you, thrusting into you suddenly. “Fuck!” You mewl out. “That's more like it.” He growled, pushing himself deeper into you. He slammed into you, barely allowing you to catch a breath. All you could do was let out whatever noise came out of you. He filled you deliciously. You gripped onto his back, scratching it as he continued. You felt a knot tightening in your stomach. The air filled with lewd sounds from the two of you chasing your high. All you could do was scream out his name as you felt closer to the edge. You felt him twitch inside of you as he climaxed, filling you up with his hot sticky seed. The feeling of him collapsing into you sent you over. You clenched onto him as you rode out your high.

Panting filled the room. The two of you attempted to catch your breath. He pulled out of you, letting you down. Feeling just how wobbly your legs were as soon as your feet hit the ground. Ace caught you right before you fell. You let out a laugh as you found some stability on the rocking boat. You dressed yourself, convinced that the entire crew had heard you. If not everyone then surely Zoro, who was trying to sleep a couple feet away. You turned to give Ace his hat back. He shook his head. “Give it back before I leave. I want you to wear it for now. You look better in it anyway.” He winked, causing a light blush to wash over your cheeks. As you begin to walk out of the room you feel a hand wrap around your wrist, stopping you just outside. “I was right… You're pretty when you're loud.” Ace whispered behind you as he walked past you, leaving you to process his comment. You watched him look back at you. He smiled at you.

#one piece #one piece fic #x reader #one piece smut #portgas d ace #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #fire fist ace #portgas d ace smut #portgas ace x reader

[asterr1sk]

pretty as the paintings

⊹₊ ⋆ park seonghwa wc: 472 genre: pining, strangers to ??? a/n: i love my husband <33

you've always been fond of visual art, whether it be a painting or a sculpture. it was your source of happiness and stress relief, but now, as an art student, it just gives you more stress than ever. here you are, standing in front of an art museum, hoping that this might give you motivation for your next piece. as you entered, there were all kinds of displays, varying in era and style. you decided to go to one exhibit, walking around and inspecting the paintings. 

you felt someone stand next to you and peek at whoever that was. it was a tall man with long hair wearing a turtleneck, holding onto his coat. even from this angle, he looked pretty. you wondered if he went alone, just like you. the whole afternoon went on with you exploring the beautiful museum. you can’t help but notice that man was also coincidentally in the same places you went through. you are pretty sure he already knows of your existence, exchanging glances at each other but never making a move. it seemed like you weren’t paying attention to the displays anymore, except for that man.

you sat on a bench in an open area since you wanted a break from all that walking and searching. you took out your notebook and pencil to write some ideas. although, some of your doodles were of that man. you were determined not to think about him. you stood back up and grabbed your things to roam the other exhibits again.  

you were in the last exhibit, but your mind was definitely somewhere else. you walked around, trying to find that man again. it was your fourth loop around the exhibit already, and there was still no sign of him. you sighed as you thought maybe it was for the best. the only motivation you had on this trip was to talk to him. you finally decided that it was already time to go. 

you were having a last look at the museum when you felt a tap on your shoulder. 

“this may sound so sudden, but do you want to get something to eat? ” you turned your head, and to your surprise, it was him. now that he was actually facing you, the details of his face were like those of the displays you saw earlier. 

“since dinner time is near, we can go to a restaurant. you can choose if you’d like.” you answered back with a smile. he looked at his watch and nodded.

“i know this great restaurant nearby. we can go there. oh wait, i forgot,” he laughed at himself. “my name is seonghwa, by the way.”

“i’m y/n.” you were sure that you saw him turn red.

“nice to finally meet you, y/n. i’ll lead the way.”

#asterr1sk #ateez seonghwa #park seonghwa #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez

[wittlesissyb4by]

Chapter 1

Oh fuck! Oh FUCK! FUCK!

I overslept.

I was supposed to be at work over an hour ago. If I hurried, I could take a shower, throw on some clothes that still needed ironing, and make it there by 11 if there isn’t much traffic. 

Or…I could just call in sick. 

Having the day to myself would be nice. I’ve taken a day off each of the last 3 weeks and I have to say, I’ve really been enjoying the extra day of relaxation. Not that my job is too taxing, I sit at a desk all day and move numbers from one column to the other, but on days I’m home I get to be free. I get to be me. 

My roommate Max is at work until 5. That’s at least 7 solid hours of play time. My mind races with all the possible things I could do. I’m already getting hard just thinking about it. I grab my phone and tune my voice as I dial, my other hand on my crotch, rubbing in excitement. 

“HR, this is Kelly.”

“Hey K-Kelly” I say in a terrible excuse for a raspy voice, coughing unconvincingly. “I think I'm getting pretty sick…”

“Again? This is like the third week in a row.” She says.

“Yea, I dunno, some kind of weird viral thing I guess.”

Even through the phone she sounded skeptical. “Hmm…okay well go ahead and take the day off, and bring in a doctor’s note on Monday.”

“A doctor’s note?”

“Yea. You’ve already used all your PTO days for the year, so you’ll need a note from your doctor to have it count as a sick day. Otherwise we’ll have to dock your pay.”

America.

“Okay, well *ehem* I’ll get the note and bring it on Monday.” I say, knowing damn well I'm too lazy to do any of those things. Maybe they’ll forget, or shrug it off, I dunno, that’s future-Jake’s problem. 

Today, I’m gonna pamper myself. Literally. 

But first I have to shave my legs. I dunno why. For whatever reason it puts me in that mood. Having fresh, smooth legs makes me feel both feminine and infantile. 

After I’ve removed any trace of body hair, it’s time to decide what to wear. I have a large divider in my closet that serves as a false wall. It effectively hides an entire section tucked back in the corner. That’s where I keep all my supplies.

I’ve accrued quite a lot over the years. Slowly adding to my wardrobe and repertoire of toys. I rake the hangars along the rod as I search for my outfit of the day, all of them in various shades of pink.

Frilly dress? Na. Too frumpy. Onesie? Too tame. I’m in a particularly slutty mood. I want something slutty.

I decide on my go-to: the sexy Schoolgirl outfit. 

Sure, it’s cliche. But there's a reason it’s so common. Nothing makes me feel more fuckable than that skimpy skirt and the crop top. It’ll even show off my new belly button piercing!

I take some time putting it all on, pretending I’m getting ready for a hot date or something, or maybe just a gangbang.

The skirt can’t even hang properly because of how hard my cock is poking out. I stroke it a few times, fighting the urge to do it more. I have to control myself, I don’t want this to end too early.

Luckily, I’ve learned a great way to fix that.

I take a few seconds to decide on a diaper. I end up going with the pink BunnyHopps, for multiple reasons, but the main one being that they’re super cute. 

I unfurl the diaper and lay it down on my bed, turning around to position myself over it. The crinkle as I lower myself onto it always gets me going. The shaky excitement from something so simple is something I will never understand about myself. But as I’m pulling the front of the diaper up to tape it shut, I realize I’ve forgotten something. Gotta get a plug. Oh! And powder…

After a bit of grunting and frustration, I work the plug into my ass. I love how full it makes me feel, having it inside and tickling my prostate gives me the heebie jeebies. I powder myself as best I can without getting it all over my skirt, then pull the front flap of the diaper over me and tape it snugly. 

Mmmm the way it feels when I sit up, feeling the padding as the plug presses into me is such a high.  

I stand up and look at myself in the mirror. Not bad, but it can be better.

I take my shaggyish hair and separate it into two tiny pigtails. I’m getting better at making them even, but I wish my hair was a bit longer. Two little bows attached to each do make it look super cute, though. 

I close the door to my room…just in case. I don’t want Max to come home early and find me prancing around like a pretty sissy. I turn back around and get to what I was doing…

Creeeeakkk

I panic. Jumping around, caught in the act, attempting to cover myself as the door swings open.

Nothing.

No one’s on the other side, the door just…swung open on its own accord, and damn near gave me a heart attack. I push the door shut again but it doesn’t click, just slowly creaks back open. It takes me two more attempts to get it to stick and stay shut. I gotta fix that sometime soon. Maybe tomorrow. Or next week…

I spend the next hour in my computer chair watching make-up tutorials as I learn to apply my own. Trying to contour without making myself look like bozo the clown is something I’m still struggling to learn. I’m pretty happy with what I accomplished though. I bat my mascara’d eyelashes at myself and give a dainty smile to the mirror. I feel so pretty, but I could definitely use some lip gloss!

When I’m satisfied that I look like a proper, fuckable sissy slut. I prance around the room. Well, as much as I can with a plug and pamper between my bum. I love my new stockings and Mary Jane slippers! They really complete the look. 

“Oh! Have I been a naughty girl today, Professor?” I say in as best of a sissy voice as I can muster. “Are you going to make me stay after class and be…punished?”

I giggle daintily at my little made up scenario. It’s silly and, admittedly, pathetic, but it’s the best I can muster under the circumstances. Judging by how hard I am in my pampers, it seems to be working just fine.

I go back to my secret stash and rustle around until I find the dildo I’m looking for. The big, fleshy 8-incher complete with balls and a suction cup, a favorite of mine lately. 

“Oh Professor!” I say, twirling around with the cock so that my skirt swishes and my diaper crinkles. “Whatever could I do to make it up to you??”

“Well I think you should start by…sucking up to me a bit…” I mimic in a deeper voice, trying not to cringe at the awful line.

I place the dick to my glossy lips, batting my eyes up at the ceiling and putting on an innocent facade, “Like this Professor??”

“Yes you little whore. Now let’s see what you got!”

I close my eyes and take the fleshy dildo in my mouth. I hear myself let out a little moan. God it feels so good having something in there. I have several pacifiers to appease my oral fixation, but there’s nothing like a nice big cock, even if it’s a fake one…

I get down onto my knees, putting the dildo on the edge of the bed, pretending I’m servicing a real man. I suck and slurp and try to do all the things the blowjob tutorial videos told me to. I can’t help but rub the front of my diaper with my other hand. My dick is practically screaming at me to cum. I bring myself right up to the edge and–

Thonk!

Oh fuck! Was that a car door? Is Max home?? Oh shit. Shit shit shit shit! What if he sees me like this?? 

I toss the dildo to the side and bustle over to the window as fast as my plug and padding will allow. I peek through the blinds and heave a huge sigh of relief.

It’s just the neighbor. They must have forgotten something at work I guess.

Phew…close one. 

My heart is still beating out of my chest, and my stomach is still in knots from the adrenaline. All of my horniness has evaporated.

Well, kind of. One quick look in the mirror gets me worked up again, but at least I'm not so close to cumming now!

Stopping to take the time to wet my diaper, I hold my skirt up as I watch myself make the padding swell and the tint of the diaper change to a darker shade.  I press the front inward, feeling the warmth against my skin. What kind of freak do I have to be to enjoy this shit?

I put that thought out of my mind. 

Searching the room for the discarded dildo, I find it in the corner of the room before sitting down at my desk and plopping the rubber dick down on the surface in front of me.

It doesn’t take me long to find some porn to watch. I’ve recently discovered “FPOV” blowjob videos where, instead of it being from the male perspective looking down at someone sucking his dick, you get the girl’s perspective. Which means I get to watch the dick enter in and out of ‘my’ mouth. A front row seat to a big, sloppy blowjob. 

I put my headphones on so I can get the real experience. Following the girl on screen as she moves back and forth over the big, black dick. 

“You’re such a good little cocksucker!” a woman’s voice says.

Oh! This one has a voiceover. Someone degrading me and instructing me while I suck a dick? Yes please.

“Take it in your mouth! Deeper…deeper…”

I rub the front of my diaper, feeling my absolutely throbbing cock even through the pissy padding. ‘MMmphhing’ all over the dick in my mouth, making sure to keep it nice and wet.

“This is your purpose…this is what you were made for…”

I suck and slurp, the diaper crinkles and shifts. This is so hot!

“Men are going to use you…fuck your little whore mouth for their pleasure…”

“You are meant to worship perfect, huge, juicy cock!” 

“Suck him sissy! Suck him faster!”

I moan with the rubber dick in my mouth as I follow the voice’s instructions. The woman on screen was ‘mmming’ and ‘mmmphing’, but I was doing it louder. She spat on the dick, so did I. She stroked it with her saliva. So did I. 

“Do you feel like a little slut for him?”

I do.

“His little mouth whore?”

Yessss.

“He’s going to use your lips like a fleshlight.”

Whatever you sayy.

“You want his cum so fucking bad don’t you??”

The girl on the screen was moaning desperately, hungrily. Oh wait…that’s me.

“He’s going to cum! He’s going to cum!”

Oh god…I’m gonna cum. I need to stop–oh! Oh no…

I curse myself as I feel my body start to spasm. A new warmth fills the inside of my diaper. I can feel all my horniness leaving with it.

No! Not yet!! I whine at no one in particular. I had a whole day planned…and now it’s ruined. 

I hate how easily it tends to happen. I can’t get far into my regime at all without immediately blowing it….literally.

I feel like crying, but I don’t want my mascara to run. The plug immediately loses all of its appeal. I huff and puff as I rip the tapes of the diaper off, seeing my immense and gooey load making strings when the front flap flops open. I sit up a bit and yank the plug out a little harder than I intended, tossing it across the room.  

Plopping myself back down, the diaper feels cool and clammy now. Still, I reason, there’s no sense in wasting it, diapers are expensive, and the good thing about these BunnyHopps is they have the hook and loop tapes, which means I can put it right back on…even if it’s not nearly as fun now.

I check through the window again to make sure Max’s car isn’t out front before I head into the kitchen to make something to eat. I bring it back to my room, closing the door, and then closing it again after it doesn’t stay shut. 

Firing up my rig, I pull up League of Legends and start playing a few matches. I feel like one of those E-girls, dressing kind of skimpy and playing video games for boys’ attention. I don’t even have to get up to pee between matches, just get to release it all into my diaper. This is the life.

At around 2 o’clock, I feel the urge to use the bathroom in a different way. I sigh, knowing it’s the end of my diaper time. I head to the restroom to do my business, but stop before I get to the door. 

Actually, why don’t I just do it right here? Right now? After all, I am in a diaper. I don’t usually mess because Max is always here, but I have the house all to myself, and this diaper is on its last leg anyway. Why not? I’m allowed to treat myself, even if it's probably the weirdest way one would do so. 

I’ve always found it a bit awkward to poop in a diaper. How does one do it? Do you stand? Surely not. Do you sit? That seems messy, but I guess that’s kinda the point…I decide to squat down and handle it that way. 

It doesn’t happen immediately. I sit there awkwardly thinking about what someone would say if they saw me in this position.

“D’awwww!! Is the wittle baby making a pushy poo?? Hmm? Are joo making a big ‘ole mess for Mommy?”

The thought of that gives me a stirring in a different part of my diaper. I imagine myself surrounded by a group of beautiful women, forced to dirty my diaper in front of them while they all point and laugh.

“Stinky poo! Stinky poo! Now you’re going doo doo!!”

“Suck your thumb, loser!!”

I put my thumb in my mouth. I suck it while I grunt and push.

“A grown man dumping in a DIAPER!”

“Man? Looks like a sissy slut to me!”

I can actually see myself blushing in the mirror while the diaper sags under the weight of my warm mush that’s filling it.

“He did it! He did it!” the imaginary girls clap.

I can see my penis poking through the pampers. 

“And he LIKED it!”

“Show us how much you like it, loser!”

“Sit in your stinky seat!!”

I sit back on my butt and feel the mush spread inside. It’s sickening and feels yucky, but the girls love it.

“Bouncy bouncy baby!!”

I bounce on the floor, squishing the mess even more, sucking my thumb and making pathetic little noises as I slip into little space.

“Goo goo ga ga sissy girl!!”

I’m drooling on my thumb while the other is rubbing the front of my mushy diaper. I’m glad Max isn’t home to hear the ridiculous sounds I'm making. 

“I think he wants to MAKE a goo goo in his diapy!” The girls all laugh. Emma Watson, Kate Beckinsale, Natalie Portman, they’re all here. “On the floor! It’s time for dumpy humpies!!”

Someone also tells me to get my ‘big boi binky’. I grab the dildo off my desk and put it on the floor in front of me.

“Sucky sucky while you fucky fucky!!” 

I’m a mess in every sense of the word. Drooling all over the dick, wiggling back and forth in my defiled diaper, grinding against the ground, skirt, hair, make-up all disheveled.

The girls are clapping their hands and chanting. Goo GOO! Goo GOO! Goo GOO!

It feels so good, being a dirty little diaper bitch…I’m gonna…I’m gonna…

Beep!

Panic. Was that a car horn? No, a truck horn. Max’s truck. The sound it makes when it’s locking. He’s here.

I rush to the window, my destroyed diaper plopping side to side with every step. I peek through the blinds again, scanning the yard.

Nothing. No one in the driveway, no sign of Max.

Another sigh of relief. It’s hard to enjoy myself when I’m constantly on edge that I'll be caught. Sure, I’m in my room, but the stench alone could probably alert the neighbors. I check to see if I even came. 

Oh…yea..definitely did. But I don’t remember the orgasm. Shame. I’m overcome with shame and disgust again, and now I’m walking around in my own filth.

I carefully remove the diaper, trying to make sure the defecation doesn’t get on my skirt. In hindsight, I should have removed the skirt before opening the diaper, but I wasn’t thinking clearly. Now I've got a literal mess on my hands. I use one of my palms to cradle the diaper while using my other hand to keep my skirt from sticking to the filth on my backside. I carefully place the diaper down so I can use both of my hands to unzip my skirt safely and take it ,and my crop top, off, tossing them both out of harm’s way.

Now I have other shit to deal with. I carefully roll up the diaper and tape the biohazard up into a ball. The thing is massive and plump, but still has its pinkish hue. I want to take it out to the dumpster, but being naked with a muddy butt isn’t exactly the right attire to do so.

This is why I don’t make messy diapers. I’m so bad at dealing with the cleanup.

I decide to set it all down and go take a shower. I make sure to close my door behind me, and step across the hall into the bathroom. The warm water feels good on my clammy skin. I use the sprayer to hose the filth off my bum, finally feeling clean again. I put the nozzle back in its holster above, but it falls with a loud clunk. But even after I caught it, the sound persisted.

Someone was at the front door. 

Not knocking. They just…walked in. I could tell by the clatter the screendoor makes when it shuts too hard, another thing I was supposed to fix…

Is that Max? Or is someone breaking in? Max shouldn’t be off of work yet, it’s only 3, and he always works until at least 5. 

I listen to the footfalls, turning the water off so I can get a better listen. The steps are hard, like those of work boots. Max’s boots. They stomp down the hallway past the bathroom I’m in, past my door, and then to his.

I shut my door, right?

Yes. I did. I made sure of it.

But what if he smells my disgusting diaper?

In a bit of a panic, I hop out of the shower, grab a towel, and make my way out into the hall.

“Hey,” I say, unable to keep the panic from my voice.

Max turns, a weird look on his face, “Hey.” he replies.

“You’re home early.” I say, sounding like an unfaithful housewife.

He scratches his beard and sighs, “Yea, the guys got what they needed done and we should be good to pass inspection tomorrow so I sent ‘em home.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” It was awkward. We’ve lived together for almost two years now and it’s never been this awkward. Probably because I’m making it awkward.

“Well, I’m gonna go take a nap.” He rubbed his eyes, maybe a little too much. 

“Alright then, see ya later.”

“Later.”

He went into his room and closed the door behind him. I hurried to mine, reaching for the handle. 

But it wasn’t there. The door was open. Wide open. And all my stuff was splayed across it in full, easy view. The skimpy skirt, the crop top with the word ‘SISSY’ plastered across it, a realistic dildo with my drool still dripping down it and, right in the center of the floor, my big giant disgusting diaper.

…Is there any chance he didn’t see all of that?

To Be Continued

#roomies

[v3nusxsky]

Tangled passion +18

*Authors note~ Leonora’s redemption, I couldn’t stand leaving the story as long as the previous chapter took I love to hear your thoughts! Feel free to drop them in my dms or asks!*

Trigger warnings~ mommy dom Larissa, daddy/mutt/mongrel/puppy switch! Leo sub r redemption for lesso punishment for lesso edging spanking hair pulling degrading praise voyeurism semi public sex oral sex over stimulation kink fingering, revenge punishment fingering thigh riding body writting marking kink

Tag list

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It appears not only are you truthful while inhibited but also sleepy. Larissa almost felt mean moving your sleeping form away from the roaring fire and into her spare bedroom, typically used for students who are struggling, before moving to ready herself for the night. Unbeknownst to you, Larissa actually found Leonora quite stunning. And if she was on the market for a brat to tame? Leonora would’ve fit. But she wanted a sweet little thing, to spoil and dote on. You fit the bill perfectly and to see you hurt by nothing more than an untrained mutt broke her heart. Larissa could definitely teach the stubborn woman a thing or two about respect. Together, you’d both put her plan in motion, after all you’d be so good for Larissa that she wouldn’t even need to try and convince you to trust her.

And she was right. “Rissa turn lights off” you grumbled seeking out the last scraps of darkness you could find as the principal opened the curtains. “But sweet girl, I have a plan to get you everything your pretty self desires. Mommy is going to fix your problem love, so up we get and we can get started sweetheart”. For a few seconds you thought you’d misheard, what did you desire? How drunk did you get last night? All it took was a small shift to sit up and the stinging on your behind had memories forcing their way back to the front of your mind. The club, Leonora, being in Larissa’s space and overly emotional. Oh gosh you’d told the older woman about how you feel. The inner debate of wanting both women but knowing you shouldn’t, yep. You’d spilled everything to her.

“I uh Rissa” you started, brain spiralling into all the ways you could explain a complex situation to someone so goddess like, “please don’t hate me.” Those four little words broke the shifters heart more than you’d ever know. “Oh sweet girl, I could never!” You felt a gentle hand wiping the tears you hadn’t realised were falling. “How about we get some breakfast and we can talk sweetheart? I think it’s time we put all our cards on the table, wouldn’t you agree?”

Another piece of information about you that Larissa adored was how easygoing you are, breakfast went down a treat, her heart swelling every time you thanked and complimented her. But now as you both moved to her desk, you immediately started to shake. The rhythmic thump of your toes tapping the floor as your leg bounced. Your shoulders seem to curl into your body and Larissa noted that you couldn’t maintain the same eye contact you had minutes ago. “Sweetheart, you know I very much wish to become your dominant?” She murmured gently not wanting to spoke you but also needing to start the dialogue which would prevent you being in an anxious state any longer than necessary.

Nodding in acceptance of her statement you let out a little hum which she took as encouragement to continue. “Well sweetling, I’ve always been an open person and I’d be lying if i said I don’t see the attraction to Leonora. While I’m wasn’t looking for a brat, I certainly can deal with them. And you my darling are my good girl aren’t you?” Her words coated in dominance had you slipping into the submissive role instantly. “Yes mommy” you whispered still not quite understanding what the blonde wanted to convey.

“Good girl” oh dear god you were dead. Definitely. Those two words ringing like heavenly bells in your ears, pulling a whimper from your throat involuntarily. “Oh, aren’t you just so precious pretty girl? Poor baby has a little praise kink” she teased evidently enjoying the blush painting your cheeks, no need for any real answer, it seems she can read you like a book. “Okay pretty dove, both of us our interested in Leonora, so you be a good girl for mommy and continue like normal, mommy will talk to Leo for us. But rest assured my love, aftercare will be always given no matter what, Leonora can’t leave my sweet girl like she did yesterday.” Her reassurance causing some of your anxiety to dissipate, leaving you still sat wanting to be closer to the woman. “If you want something dear, you’re going to need to ask mommy” she warned in a teasing manner, eyes sparking with adoration as you stuttered through asking to come and sit on her lap. “You’ve done so many times in less clothing darling, come here before you have to leave for work.”

You spent all Saturday afternoon with Larissa in Nevermore which you immensely enjoyed, just talking and getting to know what each other wanted from this dynamic, likes and dislikes to anything your minds came up with. Leaving for the club was a new kind of sadness, only made better by the blondes promise to arrive at Sinful Souls later on in the night to pick you up.

True to her word Larissa would be there to greet you after your shift at the club, but naturally she had business to attend to before seeing you. A brat to tame. That’s why the blonde shifted her appearance to get through the crowd and demand to see the owner. From there she was led into the back room where her office was. “What can I do for-“ she murmured not even bothering to look up from the paperwork she was clearly bored with. “Y/n…”

“You” the raven haired woman snarled at the principal, moving to approach the principal only to be stopped short. “I suggest Leonora, you sit down before I make you kneel down. This is my time to speak. You will listen” she demanded shifting her stance to appear taller. Truthfully Larissa Weems dripped an unmatched amount of dominance into everything she does. Something she takes pride in. “Yes teacher” was all that was quipped back, Larissa immediately stepping forward to force the other woman on her knees. “Listen up brat, this is how it’s going to go” she stated, kicking off her heels before circling the younger woman.

“You want my little dove out there? Yet you treated her so poorly last night. I can’t be having that. She deserves all the love and care in the world. I can provide that. You however are nothing more than a mongrel in comparison. Yet for some reason my girl wants you too” the blonde couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the glare coming from the clubs owner, “and well, I guess I can see the attraction. See with the right hand to guide you I’m sure you’d be a beautiful puppy for your owner. Dove isn’t capable of handling you brat. But I am so enjoy the taster of what could be in store for you. Red stops this all Lesso, let’s get started” she clapped her hands before promptly turning on her heel to walk over to the sofa.

Shock, anger and arousal was all Leonora could feel. She obeyed the older woman, truthfully she didn’t want to hurt you, guilt was eating her up so she likes to reason that’s why she submitted to the older woman. “Crawl here mutt” she murmured, beautiful cyan eyes darkening with every second her gaze was on Lesso. “Fuck you” she grumbled before going to stand up yet a firm hand immediately forced her back down. “What the fuck are you doing you bitch” she bit as the pressure continued to hold her in place. “Oh what a stupid mutt you are, not going to go down easily hmm? I do love a challenge. Again. Crawl. Here. Now.” Repeating every word slowly as she moved back to where she was, it was times like this shifting had its perks, helping her get to the other woman as quickly as possible.

As if crawling to the other woman wasn’t humiliating enough, being manhandled over her lap certainly was. Lesso was known for her tough personality and physical strength which made this act even more embarrassing. “Remember you can stop this, but a stupid stray like you needs to trained before they get to play with my toys. Thanks to my girl out there I know what you want Leo, so you’re gonna take it, all this fight doesn’t belong here.” She murmured before immediately yanking Lesso’s impossibly tight jeans from her behind, exposing her pale round globes. “These need colour” Larissa murmured thoughtfully, watching as the woman in her lap squirmed slightly in anticipation.

To Leonora’s credit, she took her 20 spanks without even creating a sound, it was the last ten that broke her down. “All done pup, now are you going to be good for me? Or shall I take you out there in front of everyone?” Larissa threatened with a knowing smile, “oh we like that do we? You want everyone to see what a pathetic mutt you are?” Teasing Leonora is definitely something Larissa is going to enjoy, she can only hope this plan works, remembering how good it felt to tame a brat. “No please” lesso whimpered causing Larissa to yank the woman up and Settle her on her thigh, “fuck yourself on my thigh like a good little slut and I’ll consider it.”

Instantly following the command the younger woman rolled her hips eagerly the other woman’s thigh, god she was desperate, the moans now falling freely from her parted lips, desperate pants of breath the only clue she was getting close to the paradise she craved. And she would’ve got there too, if Larissa didn’t wrap her strong arms around her and held her still. “Oh you aren’t coming, dumb mutt, you don’t deserve it, off now” she demanded and immediately noted that her thigh was drenched as the air hit it. “Messy girl” she tutted as lesso bowed her head in shame.

Moving to the desk was probably one of her best ideas, rolling her dress up to her hips, slipping off her ruby red underwear and spreading her legs. “Eat mutt” was all she gave the other woman before yanking her head close to her soaked core again noticing the whimper of pleasurable pain. On her knees, eating out the blonde was clearly something both parties enjoyed as Larissa climbed the hill to her peak, Lesso falling deeper into her submissive side, drunk on the taste of her pussy. “Less teeth slut” Larissa growled out just before lesso flattened her tongue and pushed the principal over the edge. Plunging her tongue in and out of her quivering hole at an almost inhuman pace to bring the woman back down from her high.

Tugging Leonora up but her tight curls the shifter tossed her over the desk like she was nothing more than a rag doll, thanking the gods for her extra strength. Using her foot to kick the woman’s legs open before thrusting a finger into her sopping sex and instantly falling into a fast pace of deep strokes, “such a needy puppy, you just needed a good fucking hmm?” To say the raven haired woman didn’t struggle would be a lie but it turns out a good four orgasms can make someone incredibly plaint. “No more fuck mommy god fucking hell!” She borderline squealed as her fifth orgasm washed over her In brutal waves. Her core now insanely sensitive, red puffy and leaking all over the floor. She barely noticed Larissa grabbing a marker off her desk and scribbling “mommys mutt” in her fancy penmanship.

After ensuring Leonora was cared for adequately, water and helped to redress was all she could help with until Lesso snapped at her and told her to fuck off. “Think about it puppy, because me and y/n are In agreement, you could have all this and more” Larissa murmured before leaving to find you just finishing up your last dance of the night.

#v3nusxsky sinful souls #sinful souls series #sinful souls #lesso x weems x reader #weems x lesso #lesso x weems smut #lady lesso x larissa #Larissa x Leonora x reader #smut #alpha larissa weems #leonora lesso #principal weems

[laylajeffany]

Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy

Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself

@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️

“You were crying.”

Duh.

“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”

“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.

“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.

She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.

“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.

Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.

How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”

Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”

Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.

She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.

To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…

Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”

“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”

More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.

“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…

Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.

There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.

Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.

“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.

Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.

Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…

Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)

She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”

“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -  

“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”

About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –

“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”

“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”

Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”

Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.

“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”

As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.

Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.

When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.

Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –

Sincerity.

Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”

Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.

“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”

Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.

Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.

“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.

Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”

Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…

“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”

Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”

“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”

Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”

There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”

“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.

“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”

“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.

The waitress blinked.

Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”

The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.

Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”

Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.

After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”

Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”

“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”

“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”

“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”

Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.

After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.

Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”

There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.

When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.

She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…

“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.

Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”

“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”

“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”

Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”

There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”

Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”

“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.

Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”

Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.

Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼

#Wednesday 2022 #Fanfic #Wenclair #One-Shot #visual for my non-american readers of what a Texas Roadhouse looks like 🫶🏻 #who among us hasn't cried in a chain restaurant? #unbeta’d #the collection of one-shots I write mostly in a closet at work is bringing me great joy #thank you for all the prompts I struggle to do any kind of one-shot on my own #layla's >5k challenge

[lostloveletters]

Crimson and Clover (Bucky Egan x OC)

Summary: Bucky expects a lot of things when he arrives at Thorpe Abbotts, but Holly Dean isn't one of them. He's not complaining, though.

Word count: 5.1k

Note: I wrote most of this in a notebook over the past 3 days so my hand hates me, but I hope y’all like this! This fic covers pretty much from when Holly and Bucky meet to about Damn Yankees (mid-May to mid-June). Title comes from the song (Joan Jett version, we're bisexuals here). Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Warnings: Inevitable historical and technical inaccuracies (I’m playing a little fast and loose with who was at Thorpe Abbotts early with Bucky). Depictions of grief and depression. Period typical attitudes.

“Wait, what’s going on?” Bucky asked.

“Some of the Air Exec girls are having another typing contest,” Dye said.

“Who’s the favorite to win?”

“Dean’s won the past two, but Spinelli’s pretty good.”

He was glad to have caught Lieutenant Glenn Dye when he did. The guy had been making a beeline to the Air Exec office when Bucky joined him. His first night there, and already some kind of action—socially, at least. No one had been able to tell him when exactly he’d actually get to join McDaniels’ crew on a mission, but he was itching to get up there, even despite the weariness McDaniels carried with him.

He looked a lot more relaxed in the Air Exec office, standing toward the front of the bustling chaos with Duvall, his navigator. Bucky and Dye pushed their way through the people packed in like sardines to witness the typing contest. Dread fell over Bucky for a split second. What if that was the most exciting thing going on at Thorpe Abbotts?

A shout carried over the conversations. “Last chance to place your bets, ladies and gents!”

“Over here!” Duvall fished a quarter from his pocket. “I’m in on Pinkowsky.”

“You’re throwing your money away,” McDaniels said.

Bucky pulled a crumpled dollar bill out of his pocket and placed it in the outstretched hat next to Duvall. “Put a dollar on Dean for me.”

A young woman with blonde hair in messy twin braids and oil-stained coveralls rushed over, nearly knocking into Duvall. “Hey, did I miss it?”

“Just about to start. Hey Major, have you met Woody yet?” Duvall asked.

Bucky shook his head. “Don’t believe I have.”

“Private Woodward—Woody,” she said. “I’d shake your hand, Major, but I’d probably stain it.” She held up her right hand, covered in black grime that she made some effort to scrub out before arriving.

“Major John Egan, but everyone calls me Bucky,” he said, before gesturing to the women sitting around the office. “So who’s who in this thing?”

Of the Air Exec typists, three were competing in the typing contest that night. Nancy Pinkowsky, a Floridian, sat a little toward the back of the room, as she applied red lipstick in a small compact mirror. Leona Spinelli of Newark, New Jersey, had her heels—sleek black pumps, not regulation—kicked up on the desk of one Holly Dean, straight from the nation’s capital with the brightest smile and sparkling brown eyes Bucky had ever seen in his life.

“He bet a buck on Holly to win,” Dye said.

“You bet on Holly, and you haven’t even met her yet?” Woody asked.

Bucky grinned. “Intuition. I got a good feeling about her.”

“You’re right about that.” Woody smiled. “She’s my best friend.”

His eyes scanned the room as he tried to commit faces to memory, but his gaze kept drifting back to Holly until she caught him staring and responded with a smile that he couldn’t help but return. He moved to make his way over and say something to her, but his introduction was interrupted by the announcement for the competing Air Exec girls to get to their desks, and all spectators to shut the hell up.

Holly’s eyes met his again, only to fall to the blank page in front of her when he blinked. From the sound of just three typewriters clicking away incessantly, Bucky could tell he’d end up with a headache if he stayed stuck as Air Exec, and that would be on top of the inevitable hangovers. 

Her fingers moved fluidly across the keys, her face calm and focused, no evidence of her smile to be seen. 

He finally tore his gaze from her to glance at Woody at his side, the mechanic silently bouncing back and forth on her feet, bottom lip between her teeth. Her focus was fixed on Holly, too.

“Finished!” Holly shouted to a cacophony of cheers and groans.

Two guys walked over, one of whom had been collecting everyone's bets. Scanned the paper and muttered between themselves for an agonizing minute before one of them announced Holly had, in fact, won with no mistakes and an impressive word per minute count.

Woody bounced back and forth on her feet, excitedly grabbing Bucky’s arm. “Beat her own record!”

“Attagirl, Holly!” Bucky shouted.

Just as soon as the chaos began, it promptly ended with Holly’s win. No reason to stick around after hours any more. Don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here, as Bucky had heard many a bartender say at last call. People slowly filtered out of the office.

A few bills and some change were shoved into his hand. “Here’s your cut. $4.50.”

He raised his eyebrows, slipping the money into his pocket. Not bad for his first night in East Anglia.

Holly didn’t recognize the man standing next to Woody, but something about him seemed familiar, comforting without the ache that usually accompanied thoughts of home, of…she figured it best not to spoil the rush of her win before she even reached Woody and met the man smiling her way. 

Woody threw her arms around Holly in congratulations, their embrace lasting a few seconds before remembering they weren’t alone.

“Oh, Holly! This is Major John Egan. Just landed a few hours ago,” Woody said, her arm around Holly. “Major, this is Sergeant Holly Dean, typing queen.”

“Quit it!” Holly laughed. “You’re the new Air Exec officer, aren’t you?” She extended her hand. “Good to meet you, Major.”

Bucky shook her hand. “Looks like you’re batting 300, Sarge. I gotta keep you on my roster.”

“Starting lineup?” she asked.

“You bet,” he said. “You’re from DC, aren’t you? You must be a Nats fan.”

“Sure am,” she said, with all the foolhardy pride of someone devoted to an ever-struggling team. “How about you?”

“Yankees.”

“So you’re from New York!”

He shook his head. “Manitowoc, Wisconsin.”

“How does a man from Wisconsin end up a Yankees fan, Major?”

“I know winners when I see ‘em,” he said with a wink. “And call me Bucky.”

“Alright, Bucky.”

The two women leaned into each other, sharing an expression Bucky couldn’t quite read. Their closeness palpable, he found himself missing Buck. Probably would’ve had something to say about his betting on a typing contest, and Bucky would astutely point out typing wasn’t a sport, receiving an eye roll accompanied by a movie star smile of amusement in return.

“I hate to be that person,” Woody said apologetically, “but we should be heading back now.” 

He nodded. "Right, well it was nice meeting you, Woody. I’ll see you tomorrow, Holly.”

“Bright and early, Bucky.”

——

Despite being in East Anglia for less than 24 hours, Bucky knew Thorpe Abbotts wasn’t anything to write home about, even if he had someone to write home to. The Rip Van Winkle village was only woken up from its slumber by the arrival of the United States Army Air Force and Red Cross. Local farmers were forced to trade a rooster’s morning crow for the roar of bomber planes as their alarm clocks. The English and Irish laborers who worked around the base considered their American compatriots novel and exotic—or a nuisance, depending on who he was talking to.

Found out there was a pub in town. Headed over with some of the other pilots and local laborers the night before. Good drinks, fun company, and a pretty barmaid. At least he wouldn’t have to rely on typing contests and the officers’ club exclusively to get his kicks. Though, if the typing contests happened regularly enough, he’d be looking at a decent payday if he kept betting on Holly to win. A guy the previous night had argued that Spinelli would win often enough, but Bucky, in all of his misguided superstition, figured there must have been something to going into the damn thing blind and making the best bet.

When Bucky got to the office, he almost couldn’t believe it was the same place that had been bursting at the seams the night before. Nancy Pinkowsky’s lips bore no trace of the bold red she painted on them. Leona Spinelli wore WAAC-issued heels, clacking across the floor as she walked over to a file cabinet. And Holly Dean’s brown eyes were dull, framed by light purple crescents below them.

Bucky frowned, making his way over to her.

“Morning, Sergeant,” he said.

“Good morning, Major.”

“Rough night?”

She gave him a tired smile. “Something like that. Did you get a chance to meet Corporal Pinkowsky or Sergeant Spinelli last night, sir?”

“Afraid I didn’t,” he said, a charming smile spreading across his face. “I’m sure we’ll all get to know each other pretty well. Major John Egan, but you can call me Bucky.”

They all seemed more controlled, stifled in contrast to the night before as they introduced themselves. Women always had personas to shift in and out of, social chameleons depending on the situation. Bucky had gotten along just fine without watering himself down for anybody, but as an old paramour of his had pointed out to him, he had the distinct advantage of being a man, and the world was far more forgiving to men with character than women, who had to shrink themselves to fit into perfume bottles, lipstick tubes, or in the cases of Holly, Nancy, and Leona, ribbons of typewriter ink.

“Looking forward to working with you, Major,” Nancy said, her long, dark eyelashes fluttering. She desperately wanted to be a flirt, but lacked the nerve to follow through. 

Always sharp, Leona hardly missed a thing. Her attention could be unsettling, too intimidating for some people unless they knew her well enough. “Nice to meet you, sir.” 

Bucky shifted his weight on his feet, looking away from Leona. 

“Oh, Colonel Huglin’s looking for you,” Holly said.

He sighed. “That sounds about right. Wish me luck.”

“Good luck, Major.”

As soon as the door to Huglin’s office shut behind him, Nancy and Leona’s focus turned squarely to Holly, their attention weighing her down. She knew exactly what they were going to ask, anticipating their disappointment at her answer that no, she didn’t know if the handsome Major was taken. She would have been surprised if he were.

“So, what’s his deal?” Nancy asked.

Leona leaned over her desk. “Yeah, I saw you talking with him last night.”

“Well, he’s from Wisconsin, but he’s a Yankees fan.”

Nancy groaned. “You know what baseball team he likes, but you didn’t find out if he has a girlfriend?”

“What, you wanna make your move after flopping last night?” Leona teased, her cat-like gaze drifting over to Holly. “Besides, he’s got his sights set on you, Holly Dean.”

Holly shook her head. “I’m not ready to even consider anything romantic. You know that. I’ll never say ‘no’ to making a friend, though.”

“He might,” Nancy said.

“Well then you ask him if he’s getting his dick wet, if you’re so curious,” Leona said, snickering at the way Nancy’s face paled. “See, you need someone more your speed. Hey Holly, he say when the other flyboys were getting in?”

She shook her head. “He didn’t mention it.”

“Geez, maybe Nancy’s got a point. Is baseball all you talked about with the guy?” Leona asked.

The women’s chattering fell to whispers when Bucky stepped out of Huglin’s office a few minutes later. Perhaps Holly hadn’t noticed it sooner, caught up in the throes of her own exhaustion following a near sleepless night, but Bucky was quite clearly hungover. He certainly hadn’t kept his aviators on inside for style, that much became abundantly clear as he rubbed his forehead. The three typists shared wordless side glances at the state of him. First day on the job and probably got chewed out already.

“Any of you know where a guy can get aspirin?” he asked. 

“There’s a first aid kit in the cabinet over there. Should be some,” Holly said.

“Thanks.”

“Of course, sir.”

They went back to typing, silently, slowly, glancing up every now and then to watch Bucky rifle through the first aid kit and promptly dry swallow two aspirin pills. He haphazardly shoved the contents back inside the box and closed it, shoving the first aid kit back into the cabinet. He retreated into his own office, presumably to sleep off whatever ailed him.

“Forget him,” Nancy whispered, only loud enough for her compatriots to hear. “He hasn’t even been here a day and he’s hungover. That’s sick.”

Holly gave her a pointed look. “Don’t be rude, Nance.”

“And he made a mess of the first aid kit.”

“I got it,” Leona huffed, getting up from her desk. “You’re such a baby sometimes.”

Nancy stuck her tongue out at Leona as soon as her back was to them. 

Holly liked them both well enough, at least more than some of the other women in the Air Exec office. Considered them friends, close enough to go out with, share some drinks and laughs, but she never quite clicked with them on the same level she did Woody. Some kind of disconnect emotionally, never quite able to meet her energy the way she needed.

The two had met in San Francisco a little over a year prior, the weekend Stan was being sent off to the Pacific. Holly went with him, glad she had in hindsight, and among the mischief they got up to their last weekend together, one of Stan’s Navy buddies, Frank, invited them to a party. Woody had been Frank’s date, and in a city bustling with women who'd signed up to help Navy or Marines, the two WAAC women bonded right away. Like the stars aligned. The best weekend of their lives. Nothing short of a relief when they were both stationed at Thorpe Abbotts.

She wasn’t quite sure how to describe her relationship with Woody. Friends didn’t encapsulate the complexity of how deeply she felt for her, the certainty with which she knew she could rely on her. She found herself hard pressed to find anyone who understood her the way Woody did.

Holly didn’t see Bucky for a few more hours, and wondered how he could possibly get shut-eye with all of the commotion. If it wasn’t the combined clicking of half a dozen typewriters, it was the talking, a whirlwind of new reports and telegrams and projects to be started and those subsequently scrapped near completion because something had changed, which then affected everything else and brought everyone back to square one.

Quite different from the law firm she worked for as a typist prior to the war. Typically kept up case files and typed up minutes and summaries for various meetings. Sometimes, the lawyers would bring her with them on the cases that went to trial instead of being settled out of court, needing a typist to sit in and record testimonies. While her knowledge of shorthand helped back then, learning the United States Army Air Force acronyms and jargon was like learning another language, not to mention the plethora of accents she had to interpret on top of that.

At least it was interesting work, important work. Kept her on her toes, like she figured Bucky would, as around noon, when she made her leave to get lunch, he emerged from his office and rushed over to her just as she was walking out the door.

“Mind if I join you? I’m still learning my way around,” he said.

“Isn’t half your job knowing where you’re going, Major?” she joked.

He grinned. “That’s the navigator’s job. I’m a pilot, doll.”

“Well, I’m no navigator, but I think I can get us to mess in one piece, as long as you don’t mind walking.”

“Not at all.”

“You won’t be saying that for long, believe me. It rains so much here, you’d think you’d need a rowboat to get around.”

“Know where I can find one of those?”

She shook her head. “What you need is a bike. They’re hard to get a hold of, but since you’re a Major and all, you can probably get your hands on one easier than most.”

“See? I’m learning from you already.”

On their walk over, it became clear Bucky’s fanaticism for the Yankees rivaled Holly’s feverish devotion to the Nationals, and when he made a joke at their expense, he almost thought she took it as a personal offense. She also made a passing remark about how if she had any doubts about city life, it had been snuffed out after a mere two weeks in Thorpe Abbotts, the countryside charm wearing off rather quickly for her. Bucky agreed, neglecting to mention he hadn’t experienced much of fast-paced, city living himself, but he knew he’d thrive in it given the opportunity. 

“So, you writing to anyone back home?” he asked when they found a table to sit at.

“Just my parents and a few friends.”

“No boyfriend?”

Her lips pressed together in a thin line. “No.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with that. I mean, I don’t have a girlfriend or anything.”

“It’s not that. I was engaged but…he died.”

“Was he a pilot?”

She shook her head. “Navy. Was killed at Midway last year. His name was Stan.”

“Shit, yeah,” he said softly, “I remember watching the newsreels from that.”

“I could never bring myself to watch ‘em.”

Biggest naval battle in history. The headlines screamed it. Boisterous radio and newsreel announcers regaled the public on the heroic exploits of the members of the Navy and Marines who took on and triumphed over their formidable Japanese enemies. He remembered the restless envy that tore through his gut with each newspaper article, each newsreel—not over the coverage or accolades, but of the action. Lucky bastards got to give the enemy a taste of their own medicine while the 100th was still running practice missions. He hadn’t considered the losses very much. Didn’t have reason to until then.

“Jesus, I’m sorry, Holly. I feel like a real jerk.”

She shrugged, a weak smile spreading across her lips. “Don’t apologize, you couldn’t have known. Just make sure you hit ‘em where it hurts when you’re up there. Doesn’t matter what continent. It’s all the same.”

He nodded. “You got it, Sarge. I’m goin’ up in two days. We’ll give ‘em hell.”

“Good,” she said. Cleared her throat, tried to shake off the sadness that slithered through her like a snake. “So, where’s the rest of the 100th?”

“Got lost coming over here,” Bucky said, laughing when her eyes widened. “Hey, I’m kidding! They’re still training stateside. They’ll be here in a few weeks. June, probably.”

“Anyone single?” Holly asked, quickly adding, “Leona and Nancy wanted me to ask.”

“Off the top of my head? Crank, Douglass, Brady, DeMarco…” He grinned. “Hey, maybe you can type up a list for me.”

She laughed. “Sure I can.”

“You gotta meet Buck. I think you’d really like him.”

His best buddy. Second best pilot in the 100th, only following him, of course. The one of the greatest storytellers she would ever meet. Pretty much inseparable since they met at basic. Didn’t mention how being the focus of Buck’s attention felt like being on top of the world, could send him even higher than any of the forts did. Couldn’t think of a time he felt that way about anyone else.

“He sounds terrific.”

“Pretty square, though—“

“Square?”

“The guy doesn’t drink, doesn’t smoke, doesn’t like sports, including baseball, and he’s been dating the same dame since high school.”

“You make the last one sound like a bad thing.”

“Well, it will be for Nancy and Leona’s list.”

“Are we seriously going to make one?”

Bucky snickered, increasingly amused with the idea the more he thought about it. “Why not?”

——

If Holly minded Bucky’s company, she never said anything about it. Didn’t bat an eye when he’d tag along to wherever she was headed to every now and then. Sometimes on her own, but she spent a lot of time with Woody, and the more he was around the two of them, the more he was itching for Buck to finally make it over.

The Wilhelmshaven mission rattled Bucky. His first. Poor Duvall caught the bad end of flak and was covered in blood and barely hanging on when the fort landed back at the air base. Woody’s voice wavered when she told Holly about it, the state of the navigator. Woody was friends or friendly enough with most of the bomber boys by virtue of working on their forts, their babies, really. Being ground crew meant she also had the unfortunate burden of witnessing firsthand the aftermath of the brutality the bomber crews faced in the skies.

Suddenly, Bucky carried the same weariness Holly had seen the other men wrestle with in their own ways. She was hardly surprised when Bucky drowned his in alcohol at the village pub, inviting her and Woody along to join him and some of his fellow pilots for a nightcap, a celebration of Bucky’s first mission.

“Mark my words, Holly,” Bucky said, well into his fourth beer. “If there’s gonna be two pilots left in the sky by the end of this war, it’s gonna be Buck and me. I’d bet anything on it.”

His certainty caught in his throat when her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. 

“That’s hopeful.”

“You make that sound like a bad thing.”

“It’s not,” she said softly. “Sometimes I think too much about what could go wrong. I’m sorry, Bucky.”

A stormy melancholy hung above Holly once in a while, and though it never poured, she withdrew within herself. Some mornings, she greeted him with a shadow of the smile he always looked for as soon as he walked into the office. On those days especially, he reached out, tried to bridge the gap between them with whatever story or one-sided conversation he could think of.

He had asked Woody about it, knowing she’d be able to explain it to him better than anyone else. Only started after Stan died. Unnerved some people, annoyed others who thought she was being too dramatic, moping for so long over the man. Her behavior could be erratic, mostly self-isolating, occasionally self-destructive, but that aspect hadn’t reared its ugly head for some time. 

“I wish you knew her before,” Woody had told him quietly. “She wasn’t always like this.”

“I like her just fine now,” he’d answered, almost defensively.

“Good. She thinks the world of you, Bucky.”

His heart had jumped. Stopped himself from saying the same. 

Now, however, sitting with Holly in the small pub, He smiled, smacking his palm against the table, a mischievous gleam in his eye. “I know what’ll cheer you up. How about a song?”

“You can sing?”

“Nope.”

But he did anyway. Blue Skies. Enthusiastic. Off-key. Loud. Ran around the place like someone lit a fire under his ass while the pub erupted in cheers and heckling at his performance. 

“What the hell is he doing?” Woody asked, sitting down next to Holly, half-drunk glass of beer in hand.

“Trying to cheer me up."

Singing certainly wasn’t his forte, and adding dancing to the mix only served to make the performance worse. He crashed into a nearby table, sending glasses to the ground with shrill shatters that cut through his song. Holly’s hand flew to her mouth as she tried to stifle her laughter at the mess and the fact that he kept going. Pulled the exasperated barmaid in for a twirl, and she nearly hit him with her tray.

“He’s nuts,” Woody laughed.

Holly grinned, clapping enthusiastically when Bucky concluded the song, half out of breath, perspiration on his forehead. “Yeah, he is.”

“How about another round and an encore?” he asked when he returned to the table, pleased with himself at how big Holly’s smile was.

“Yes to another round!” Woody exclaimed. “Hold the encore.”

——

June didn’t offer a reprieve from the incessant English rain, but by the second week of the month, it brought Buck Cleven, and as far as Bucky was concerned, things were as right with the world as they could be, all things considered.

He tried not to think about the possibility of Buck not liking Holly. Knew he wouldn’t show it even if he somehow weren’t all that fond of her, ever the gentleman, good ol’ Buck. But Bucky had heard one too many guys make some snide remark about Holly and her odd behavior, her grief, to leave him with more than a few healthy grudges. Still, he wasn’t shocked at Buck’s incredulous attitude when he brought up Holly.

“Where are we going?” Buck asked from the passenger seat of the jeep.

“Quick pit stop to the Air Exec office,” Bucky said. “You gotta meet her—Sergeant Holly Dean, best typist you’ll ever see in your life.”

“Bucky—“

“C’mon, I talked you up to her! She’s keen to meet you.”

Buck shook his head. “You want me to humor your little girlfriend?”

“It’s not—Buck, come on.” Bucky scoffed. “What, I can’t have friends now?”

Buck hummed. “Sure. Friends.”

“She’s great, Buck. We should all go out sometime. You’ll see.”

“You know, Marge went to the trouble of introducing you to Peggy—”

“Holly’s fun! She makes the desk job less boring.”

“Whatever you say,” Buck said as the office came into view.

Holly swore she heard Nancy whisper “oh my god” when Bucky walked into the Air Exec office with whom she could only assume was Buck Cleven. She took in a deep breath in an attempt to even out her palpitating heartbeat. He almost looked like he walked off of a movie set. 

Then he took off his cap and smiled at them, introduced himself to Nancy first, who managed a quiet “Hello Major,” and then to Leona, whose deep eyes almost bore a hole through the pilot. Holly swallowed roughly when he made his way over to her.

“You must be Holly, then,” he said. “Buck Cleven, it's nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you, too," she said, glancing between him and Bucky. "I already know I’m gonna get your names mixed up, so I’m sorry in advance, sir.”

Buck smiled. “My first name is Gale, if that helps.”

“Gale’s a great name. Why go by Buck?”

“On account of this one,” Buck said, gesturing to Bucky. “He doesn’t have any manners, if you haven’t noticed.”

“He’s swell,” Holly said. “Best Air Exec we’ve had yet.”

“Heard you’ve been keeping an eye on him for me.”

“Trying my best, sir.”

“Well, he’s in one piece, so you’re doin’ a pretty good job.”

Kind and handsome—and woefully taken. But not perfect. Didn’t like booze or baseball, pretty much non-negotiables as far as she was concerned. Nancy and Leona didn’t know that, though. Neither of them had Bucky’s insider knowledge the way she did. Maybe it wouldn’t have mattered to them all that much, anyway. Most importantly, she wasn’t ready to date again. Ignored who came to mind when she thought of where she’d like to start, though. Probably ruin a damn good thing if she did.

“It was nice meeting you ladies. I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” Buck said kindly.

“Don’t be a stranger, Major,” Leona said.

Nancy nodded enthusiastically in agreement.

“You girls behave while I’m gone,” Bucky joked.

As soon as the door closed behind them, the three typists shared dazed expressions.

“Was he on that list you gave us?” Nancy asked.

“Not a chance,” Holly said. “Bucky says Buck is hopelessly devoted to his girl back home.”

Leona groaned. “That was the most gorgeously unavailable man I’ve ever seen in my life. I need to have a drink or four over it tonight.”

——

The day of Buck’s first mission, Bucky clung to Holly the way a child would a blanket during a bad thunderstorm. He felt ridiculous making the comparison between himself and her, but he knew she’d understand the uncertainty, the waiting. Didn’t say anything when he found lame excuses to keep her working in his office, unsure of how else to express that he didn’t want to be alone with himself, with his thoughts.

The practice missions were just that—practice. Though Buck took them on with all of the focus and skill of real missions, there wasn’t much risk involved. Death couldn’t reach out its cold hands and touch them quite yet, but on his first mission, Bucky swore he felt its frigid grip on his shoulder, trying to pull him away with it somehow. Learned how to ignore it by his second mission, not to see its face behind his eyes every time he blinked or hear it calling for him with each burst of flak. But he couldn’t tell Buck, no way for him to understand until he was up there and experienced it for himself. Maybe that was why Holly sometimes retreated into silence when it came to Stan.

Wondered how she felt before she got the news about Stan. Was she expecting it? Had a gut feeling that she hoped was indigestion? Blindsided and crushed? He couldn’t bring himself to ask. Wasn’t sure he could handle knowing her answer. 

Instead, they talked baseball, as she’d given him a Lou Gehrig card she got from an old pack of Big League Chewing Gum, having inexplicably brought her modest collection of baseball cards over to England with her. Had a Yankee among her more treasured cards and didn’t think twice about giving it to him. So Lou found his home among Bucky’s two rosaries and various homegrown talismans that carried his hope and superstition. Took the place of his lucky deuce which he’d given to Buck that morning, not that he’d dream of biting a corner off of it.

He scratched the bridge of his nose, avoiding eye contact with her as he said, “Thanks for putting up with me.”

“What do you mean ‘putting up with you’?” she asked. “I like being with you.”

“Yeah, me too.”

He almost couldn’t believe how close they’d become in the weeks since they met. So close that every so often, they’d be asked if they were a couple, brushing off the assumptions with laughter and the answer that no, they weren’t. Hell, even Buck assumed it before he met Holly. But really, he couldn’t think of how much would change between them if they were. Didn’t matter. He knew things would be okay if he had Holly around, no matter how that looked.

“Hey, shouldn’t they be getting back soon?”

“Shit, you’re right. I’ll see you later, Holly.”

“See you, Bucky,” she said, taking his hand in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “Take care.”

He nodded silently, slipping the hand she held into his jacket pocket when he turned to leave, wanting the warm, comforting feeling to last until he could see ‘Our Baby’ approaching and finally relax. A smile spread across his face, but there was no way for her to have seen it.

#bucky egan x oc #john egan x oc #masters of the air #bucky egan #john egan #masters of the air x oc #mota x oc #mota fanfic #masters of the air fanfic #mota #hbo war #hbo war fanfic #ch: holly

[pagetsgirl]

tutoring

contains smut!! mdni

warnings: smut, giving head, fucking your professor, office sex, shitty writing ngl

pairing: alex blake x f!reader (professor x student dynamic)

summary: Alex Blake's star student needs some tutoring, which turns rather spicy

a/n: dont be afraid to reach out to me if you have any prompt/drabble suggestions, but i’m not sure when i’ll get to them since im really busy with school

read on ao3 or below the cut

For the entire year you’ve been nothing but the most perfect student. You got full marks, was never late, always turned assignments in on time, and you were actually nice to anyone who sat around you in class.

So it came to you as a surprise, when in your second year, your linguistics professor, dr. Alex Blake, told you that you might need some tutoring, so you could get ahead of everyone else in class. You had her last year as well, and to say you had a crush on her was an mild understatement. So to spend more one-on-one time with her… it was an offer too good to say no to.

It quickly became your favourite part of the week. Every Friday evening at 6:50pm, just after your last class, walking towards her office so you’d be there 7:00pm, and then leave with pain in your heart at 8:30pm, while every bone in your body was shouting at you to chat with her for just a little longer. Your ears dying to hear her voice just one more time before going to bed, your eyes wanting to look at her once more, your hands wanting to roam over her body, discovering every curve and freckle on her delicate skin.

This Friday was no different. Almost speeding down the corridors so you could get to her office a little early, so that you two could catch up just a little more before starting the tutoring.

Arriving there at 6:55, which is a record, you knocked at her door, waiting for her approval of coming inside.

“It’s open!” Her slightly raspy voice sounded muffled from where you were standing. But even that could make your knees weak. The things she would whisper in almost the same tone, just a tat more sulkier, as her hands roamed over your body, her strap made hard thrusts into your-

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

“Oh yeah, uhm of course,” You franticly speak out, putting your entire linguistics education to shame.

You followed her inside, your eyes focused on her ass, I mean her walls filled with interesting books you couldn’t wait to dive into (same goes for her ass, but that’s just a tat… inappropriate).

The rest of the lesson went smoothly, as you put your feelings on the side line, and fully focussed on the things she was explaining to you.

The last couple of minutes you get a little side tracked, now talking about your hobbies, as her hand brushed past hers as you were explaining how sharks can’t get cavities and some sharks can glow in the dark.

When it finally gets to the time where you should leave, she walks you to the door. As you turn your back towards her, you hear her say; “You think I didn’t notice you staring at my ass and boobs all semester?”

Your face turns a bright red, as you slowly turn around. “Fuck,” You mutter under your breath. She walks closer, and closer to you, her hands eventually landing on her hips.

She looked down at you, her eyes filled with something that almost looked like… lust?

“Professor,” You mutter out, your hands still awkwardly on your sides. “Tell me you don’t want this, baby,” She whispers, her hot breath brushing over your ear as she moves closer to you.

“Please, I want this,” You whisper out, your voice raspy from desperation.

“Good, then it’s Alex or mommy for you, pretty girl,”

Just as those words left her lips, she pushed them on yours, absolutely taking your breath away. It was soft, but she was also so dominating. It was everything you’ve ever dreamt of, and more. Way, and way more.

Alex pushed you backwards until she has you pinned to the door, her hands now roaming close to the bottom of your sweater. Your hands moving to tangle into her brown hair that was framing her face. “You sure you want to do this, baby?” The professor said as she pulled away.

You desperately nod your head, as your hands attempt to pull her face closer again.

“No, darling, I have to have vocal consent,” her hands played with the bottom of your shirt. “I- please, Alex, I need you so bad, please mommy,” The moment she heard that last word leave your lips, she pushed her lips to yours again, sliding her tongue into your mouth, exploring every single centimetre that she could reach. Her hands slipped into your sweater, discovering every curve until she reached your breasts.

Her lips travelled south, softly biting your neck. “Gosh, you’re so gorgeous for me, baby,” her voice radiated a warmth through you, that ended up all the way into your pussy.

She bit into your skin, making you let out a soft moan. “Please, mommy, I need more,” You pant out, your hands pushing her head down. “Shhh baby, I’ll get there, I promise,”

Her teasing didn’t seem to end, leaving a countless amount of hickeys and bite marks all over your neck.

Finally, after what seemed both hours and seconds, her hands grasped onto the sweater. “Can I take this off?” The brunette looked into your half closed eyes, her eyes filled with nothing but love and need. “Yeah, please,” the words came harder than you ever could’ve expected.

Finally, she took off your shirt. She stood there, allowing herself to take in this moment, cause who knows when the next time will be when she can see you like this (which will most likely be next Friday, if not sooner).

Your needy hands pulled onto the rim of her shirt. “Off,” you murmured. All Alex just did was grant you a smile and the little nod that allowed you to pull the shirt over her head. Your eyes scanned over her body, desperate to remember absolutely everything about her. Every freckle, curve and ‘imperfection’ that was scattered over her skin.

“You done staring, baby?”

“Mm, you’re really pretty,” you whisper, as your hands wander over her exposed skin.

“Oh, well thank you baby.” She kissed the tip of your nose, making you let out a small giggle. “I think you’re really pretty as well.”

Her hands slide towards your ass, “Take them off, please,” You practically beg.

“Your wish is my command,”

She quickly pulled down your trousers and underwear, throwing it somewhere on the floor. The linguist picked you up with ease and carried you to her desk, where she put you on.

The brunette immediately dove into your pussy, eating you eat like it was your last meal. Her tongue lapping up your juices.

It was just embarrassing as to how close you already were. Your thighs were shaking, you back arching and your hands pushing her head impossibly closer to where you needed her the most. “Mommy, I’m so close, please,” You moan out.

“Are you coming inside or not?” A voice shook you out of your daydream, as Alex Blake stood there in her doorframe, looking down at you.

#alex blake x reader #ao3 writer #fanfic #ao3 #criminal minds #smut #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #wlw post #wlw ns/fw #mdni #18+ mdni