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#i do know she played it a bit and mentioned a few times. so at least four years before i started playing.
sweetbans29 · 2 days
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Should Have Been Me - CC
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Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader
Summary: You and Caitlin are home for a weekend to celebrate her brother's birthday - one thing leads to another and nothing is the same.
Warnings: ANGST - PURE ANGST, read at your own will. I would apologize but that would be a lie...
Word Count: 6.3k
Sweetbans Masterlist
AN: Please don't ask why I did this, I needed the pain. Just let it be. But low-key this is probably one of my favorites that I’ve written. Okay great, thanks!
You and Caitlin are jamming out on the drive home to Des Moines. A few weeks back she mentioned how her younger brother's birthday was coming up and she was planning on making the trip home to be there. She didn't need to ask, knowing you would come.
The two of you grew up together, meeting on the first day of first grade. You two were inseparable. If you weren't at school together, you were at practice or at each other's homes. Your parents accepted when you were girls that they both had two daughters even though she was the only girl among her siblings and you were an only child. You were all essentially one big family.
It came as no surprise to either of them when Caitlin and you told them you were dating in high school. It was a little bit of a hard pill for her parents to swallow but ultimately were supportive of your relationship when they saw how happy you made Caitlin as more than a friend. It wasn't a hard decision when the Hawkeyes came around and scouted both of you out to play college basketball with them. It was both of your dreams, to play college basketball and ultimately make it to the NCAA championship. Eventually to play in the WNBA and that all was coming true right before your eyes. It was the cherry on top that you two were able to do that together on the same team. Not only is your chemistry incredible off the court, but on the court - it's unmatched.
This is your last little getaway before things pick up going into March Madness. Senior year baby and the two of you know you can the team all the way back to the final four.
You pull up to her house and grab your bag from the car. Even though your home was right down the street the two of you planned to spend the Friday night at her house and then head to yours for Saturday night. It works out well as her brother's birthday party is tonight.
Once you get inside, you see her mom going crazy trying to get everything in order before tonight You set your things down and immediately help out wherever she needs. Caitlin does the same but takes some time to catch up with her dad first. Once Cait and her dad jump in, it all comes together.
People begin to arrive and the party comes together. Their home comes to life with friends and family from all over.
Caitlin's mom comes running over to Caitlin and you in a slight panic.
"Caitlin, I need you to go grab Colin from his friends," she says looking at her phone.
"Doesn't he have his car? Why do I need to go grab him? I told Dad that I would help him get the lights up for the party before everyone got here and we are behind." She says getting a little flustered herself.
"His car isn't starting and his friend is out of a car so they have no way of getting here," Caitlin's mom explains.
"I can go get him," you say. "That way you both can stay and finish anything that is needed."
"Oh, you are an angel, sweetheart! Thank you, thank you, thank you," she says while giving you a hug.
"It is no problem, it's my pleasure," you respond and give her a smile. Caitlin gives you a look of gratitude.
Caitlin's mom sends you the address and you give Cait a peck before heading out to grab the boys.
Once you get in your car, you put on your favorite playlist and maps then head out. It was only about a 15-minute drive there. As you are driving, it is just starting to get dark. Your lights turn on automatically as you are driving. You are about 5 minutes out when you are stopped at a light. Once yours turns green, you begin to go and that is when time stops.
*Third person-ish POV*
Caitlin's mom walks over to her and her dad as they are setting up the lights. They are just about finished putting them up - it took a minute to do but they look really good.
"Have you see your little bother yet? I thought they would be back by now," her mom says looking at her phone.
"I am sure they are almost here, Mom," Caitlin says as her arms are holding up the last string of lights for her dad.
"I'm sure you're right," she says as she walks away and goes to tend to the food.
Once the lights are complete, Caitlin goes to look for you. She looks all over the place and can't seem to find you. After about 30 minutes of looking, she finds her mom.
"Hey mom, have you seen (y/n)," she asks, checking her phone to see if there were any messages that she missed.
"I have been trying to call her. Your bother called and asked when we would be there to pick him up," she says and Caitlin begins to get nervous. Looking at the clock, she realizes it has been about an hour since you had left to pick him up and it should have taken you 30 minutes.
Cait gives your phone a ring and it goes straight to voicemail. She begins to look around for your parents, knowing they were here to see if they could get a hold of you. When she finds them, they say they haven't seen her yet.
"Caitlin, can you go get your brother, please? It has been over an hour in and he is still waiting for (y/n)," her mom says, not looking up from her phone. Caitlin grabs her mom's keys and heads out.
As she is driving, she notices there are police detouring cars. Her heart rate begins to pick up. She has to tell herself that it's not you, it couldn't be you. There was no way, you had never been in an accident and you are the best driver she knows. She slows down and makes a slow turn following the detour when she sees it. She sees your car flipped on its side, completely crushed on the driver's side.
She pulls her car over immediately, gets out, and runs to the scene. There is caution tape around the whole area which she completely ignores and runs over to the first ambulance she can see. When she looks inside, she sees a man with a cut on his forehead and arm in a sling. Before she can continue looking, there is a police officer approaching her.
"Ma'am, you can't be over here," he begins to say as he tries to usher you out of the caution-taped area.
"That's my girlfriend's car! I need to find her!" She says as she is in full-blown panic now.
The officer's mannerisms change completely when he hears that the girl in front of him knows who was in the car that was hit.
"Come this way, ma'am," he says in a gentler tone this time.
"No, I need to find (y/n). That is her car, she is here and I need to find her," Caitlin says not seeing the officer's demeanor changing. He grabs her arm and tries to get her to look at him. When she looks at him, he speaks again.
"You should come this way and we can talk," he says slowly, not wanting to spook you. Caitlin goes into a haze. She stops trying to fight the officer and lets him lead her to an easy-up tent that has been set up with lights. He offers her a chair and a bottle of water and sits next to her.
"Would you happen to have contacts for her parents? Someone else we can call to come down and be here with you?" The officer says, still not telling her what happened or where you are.
Caitlin pulls out her phone from her pocket and hands it over to him with your mom's phone number on the screen. Up to this point, no tears had fallen from Caitlin's eyes - if she was feeling anything it was anger. Why wasn't anyone telling her anything? She still had no idea what had happened. The officer passes her phone to another officer and they make the call.
"Can you please tell me what has happened and what's going on? I want to see her, is she okay?" Caitlin begins asking the officer again. She is doing everything in her power to not completely freak out. Her body is numb and she is confused as to where you could be.
"It would be best to wait for her family to be here," the officer begins but is cut off by Caitlin.
"I am her family." She says without hesitation. It was true. Not by blood and not legally, at least not legally yet but between growing up together and the relationship the two of you had been in for the last 6 years, it was only a matter of time before you were married. She had been your family since day one and everyone knew that.
The officer gives her a somber smile and a nod. Giving her a pat on the shoulder as another officer calls him over.
Caitlin sits there and waits, trying to look around at other ambulances to see if she can see you in any of them. If you were hurt, maybe they had already taken you to the hospital and didn't want her to drive in the state she was in.
A few moments pass and Caitlin sees both your parents and hers come running up to the scene. Caitlin stands and immediately hugs her mom. The tears begin to fall the second she is wrapped in safe arms. She still has no idea what is going on but at least now she is not alone.
The officer approaches asking your parents if they are they say they are. He takes them aside and begins explaining what happened. Caitlin breaks away from her mom to look over and see your mom sobbing with your dad trying to hold her as he sheds tears of his own.
"Mom, what happened? They haven't told me anything, I just want to see her," Caitlin says heart beating faster than a race car. Seeing your parents crumble before the officer has her feeling sick. She can't stand still as her foot is tapping and her hands keep playing with either themselves or the bottom of her shirt.
Caitlin's dad nods at her mom as he walks over to your parents and the officer. The officer and her dad both look over to Caitlin and her mom as they turn away. Caitlin sees her dad's shoulder slump and his hand come up to his face. He takes another moment before patting the officer on the shoulder and heading back to where his family is.
He doesn't say anything as he approaches, but rather takes Caitlin in his arms and just holds his daughter.
"Dad," Caitlin begins, hesitant in asking how. The last 45 minutes had felt like an eternity as she had been asking everyone under the sun what had happened. But the way her dad walked over and went to hold her, she no longer wants to know what has happened - she just wants to go back to earlier today when it was you and her against the world on the drive home. She can't seem to find what to ask anymore.
"Baby, I'm so sorry." Is all he says as he holds his baby girl. Something your parents are no longer able to do. Her mom rubs Caitlin's arm.
Caitlin's whole body goes numb, she still doesn't really know what happened but knows enough now to figure out nothing is going to be the same. When it begins to hit her, she feels suffocated by the arms holding her. Her first instinct is to run, to break away from here and run. And that is exactly what she does.
She pushes through her dad's arms and runs. She can hear her parents call for her but she doesn't look back.
She runs for hours finally slowing down when her lungs begin to burn so bad that she is gasping for air. Not that she wanted it - if you weren't with her, what was the point? You had been by her side her whole life and now she was alone. Cait lets out the most primal scream and falls to the ground. She curls up into a ball as the tears begin to fall.
Her mind begins to think of you, to the last moment before you left when you offered to pick up her brother. All she gave you was a little peck - no hug, no I love you. She should have held you and told her she loved you. It is then that it dawns on her, she was the one that was supposed to go. It was Caitlin who was first asked to pick up her brother but she didn't want to leave her dad so you volunteered. It should have been her picking up her brother. Maybe if it was her, things would have turned out differently and you would have still been here. As she is curled up on the side of the street - she feels her body beginning to shut down...
It was the summer before junior year of high school and you and Caitlin were heading home from practice for your club team, Attack. She was driving the two of you back to your house when you mentioned you wanted to stop to get milkshakes. She happily pulled over at your favorite local spot. Once the two of you had gotten your sweet treat, you sat in her car drinking milkshakes and talking about all the possibilities for playing college ball.
"Cait?" You ask as she is finishing her milkshake. She looks up at you. "I love you," you say. Up to this point, the two of you had both told each other you liked each other more than friends and started to explore what that looked like. You would say the two of you had been dating for the past couple of months - keeping it really low-key as you didn't know how the people around you would take it. But there was something about this moment, something about being together and just doing life together that helped you realize she is your everything.
She looks at you slightly shocked.
"You don't need to say it back!" You say, not wanting to pressure her. You just didn't want to go another day without telling her. "I just needed to tell you because, well, I do. I love you, Caitlin Clark."
A goofy little smile makes its way to her face and she pulls you in for a hug. It isn't the most comfortable considering you sitting in a car and have some piece of the center console pushing into your rib cage but you didn't mind.
"I love you," she whispers in your ear as she hugs you.
"Caitlin, sweetie," someone is shaking her arm. "Cait, wake up," they continue to shake her, waking her up.
She looks up, eyes foggy and body in pain. It takes her a few seconds to see it is completely dark and that she is on the side of the road. As she looks around, she realizes she is across the street from your favorite milkshake place. It had closed down a few years back but it was often a place the two of you would go to just sit and talk.
As she sits up, she doesn't remember stopping here. She just remembers running and running until she literally couldn't.
"Caitlin, sweetie," she hears again and looks up. It is your dad who has woken her up, she looks around and it is just him. "We have been looking for you for a while now sweetie."
She just nods. Everything rushed back to her. No one has actually said it to her yet, but she knows. You were gone. Her eyes begin to water again as it is all too much for her to wrap her mind around.
Your dad sits next to her, not ready to make his way back to reality. Sitting there with Cait, has him feeling like you are still here. That you are going to walk up and take them both home and tell them that this was all a dream.
“I don’t know if you remember, but I took you and (y/n) here after your very first basketball practice in elementary school. You both wanted something sweet and I didn’t want to go out of the way on the drive home that I pulled over here in hopes they had something that would satisfy you both. We walked in and they had milkshakes,” he says with a little laugh and sniffle. “(Y/n) had never had a milkshake before but you were so excited and told her it was the best thing in the world. Of course, she believed you, she trusted you with her whole heart and soul and you didn’t disappoint her. That afternoon you two shared a chocolate shake, finished every last drop.”
Caitlin is hugging her legs as tears stream down her face. She doesn’t remember that but it makes it that much more special that this place was your spot.
“Caitlin, has anyone explained what has happened?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn’t want to talk about it but he knows that she deserves to know.
She takes a minute, deciding if she really wants someone to say it. Even though she knows you are gone, for some reason having someone explain what actually happened makes everything that much more real. She finally shakes her head no, not daring to make eye contact. She feels like she would physically fall apart if someone looked into her eyes with any drop of sympathy.
“They said it was fast, that she didn’t feel any pain,” he began, hoping that would provide any ounce of peace to her. “When she was going through the intersection, a drunk driver came and blew through their red light. They impacted the driver's side and she…” he is choked up at this point. It’s not right that a father has to say this about his daughter. “She died upon impact.” He finishes, not sugarcoating it knowing Caitlin also preferred the direct approach.
Caitlin at this point is shaking with pain and anger. Her world has completely flipped due to an idiot making bad decisions. She wants to find the man and bring him all the pain she is feeling but knows that will never bring you back. That’s all she really wants, is you back.
Your dad doesn’t rush Caitlin, he lets her feel everything she needs. If he is honest, he also needs this time. He’s been caring for your mom then went on the hunt with the rest of the family to find Caitlin. He hasn’t had the time to just sit. Not that he really wanted to because that allows the feelings to come in and disrupt peace. How does a dad wrap his mind around losing his baby girl? His only little one.
“I don’t know life without her,” Caitlin speaks for the first time. Her voice is unsteady and broken, desperate. “She’s always been there, I don’t know how to be here without her,” she says as she lets out a cry. She bites her arm to avoid completely losing it. Your dad's hand comes to rub her back and bring her into a hug.
"I know she was your person and you were hers. She will always be a part of you," your dad says trying to calm the broken girl you left behind. "But I also know that she took a part of you and that it is going to take time for you to process and heal."
The two of them sit, not saying much after that. After some time, your dad helps Caitlin into the car, driving her back to her home. On the car ride back, your dad calls Caitlin's dad letting her know that she is with him and they can all head back to their house.
When they arrive, Cait's parents come running out and embrace her in a hug. Her whole body was still numb, her cheeks stained with dried tears. She doesn't have the energy to hug them back, rather just stands there. No thoughts going through her head, she doesn't quite know what to do. How does someone continue living when they are no longer whole?
*One week later*
Caitlin is sitting on her bed, dressed in a simple black dress. Her hair is straightened and her nails are black. They are usually painted white but that just didn’t fit her in the moment. She is mentally preparing to face the crowd of people who are waiting just down the road.
She takes a shaky breath and stands from her bed. She walks up to her dresser and puts on a necklace and bracelet - both were gifts from you. She looks at herself one more time in the mirror. As she is looking at herself, she pictures when the two of you were standing there dressed for a friend’s wedding. It’s almost as if she can see you standing next to her.
She hears a faint knock on her door. She doesn’t respond but the door opens and her mom peaks through.
“Hey baby, are you ready” She asks in a gentle motherly tone. Caitlin just nods. Never in a million years would she picture herself being in this boat.
Cait's dad had already driven over to the church with her brothers. It was going to be Cait and her mom driving there just in case she needed some space to be alone.
As they arrive, there is already a huge crowd of people, all of whom are entering the building. Caitlin's heart rate begins to pick up and she begins to fiddle with the bottom of her dress. Her mom grabs her hand, attempting to calm her. Nothing and no one will ever calm her like you did.
She walks in. There have been countless times Caitlin has imagined walking down this aisle with you but under much different circumstances. Her heart aches at the thought of what could have been.
She takes her seat in the front row between her mom and her dad. As she sits, she makes the mistake of glancing over at your parents. She can tell they are doing everything in their power to keep their composure but she knows they are faking.
The funeral service begins and your dad is the first to go up and speak. Caitlin's mind wanders elsewhere...
It was freshman year of college and the two of you are heading into your Intro to Psych class. The two of you head to the seats you have sat in since day one. In the middle of class, Caitlin feels a weight on her shoulder. When she looks over she sees you - fast sleep on her.
It had been a busy few weeks between double practices and all the homework you two had. Cait knew you had been bending over backwards adjusting and keeping up with all the university required of you.
She leans down and kisses you on the head. You would always say you are an ugly sleeper - granted you had never seen yourself but you could feel it. Caitlin on the other hand would disagree and say you are the cutest when you sleep. She would always say you looked so peaceful, childlike.
Caitlin also knows that you would be pissed if she let you sleep through the lecture. You were the better note-taker and when it would come time to study for the final - Cait wouldn't hear the end of letting you sleep through the review. But on the other hand, your girl knows how little sleep you have been getting, always working on school work or reviewing plays and making sure you were on top of everything.
You let out a little sigh and lean a little further into her - fast asleep. Caitlin lets out a little groan, knowing she would much rather watch you sleep on her than wake you. She slowly begins to move her shoulder, trying to get you to wake up without being startled.
When you don't budge, she leans down and says your name in your ear. You still don't budge.
Finally, she turns a little, trying not to draw attention to the two of you, and moves her arm to squeeze your thigh.
"Babe, you need to wake up," she says, giving your thigh another squeeze.
"Mmmm, don't want to," you mumble and move to take hold of her arm, wrapping your arms around it like it was a pillow.
"Babe, we are still in class." She says with a little laugh - falling a little more in love with you.
This causes you to shoot up, fully alert by her words. You look around and your cheeks redden immediately. Sinking down in your chair - embarrassment filling every ounce of your body.
She hands you your pen back and leans over to kiss your head once again.
"Don't worry babe, you didn't miss much," she says reassuring you.
Caitlin is pulled back to the present - though she much rather stay in the past. The service was ending and there was going to be a time for people to pay their respects to your family. it was being held at your house, Caitlin hasn't been without you - not having the strength to go over to see your parents. Most of the last week was spent in bed, with the exception of when her mom encouraged her to shower.
When she walks into the house, it almost feels foreign. She grew up in this house with you and now it feels unknown. She walks up to your parents. Your mom engulfs her in a hug, mumbling something along the lines of how much she loves her. Cait then steps over to give your dad a hug. The last time she saw him was when he found her on the side of the road. He hugs Caitlin without saying anything until their embrace ends.
"When you are ready, I have something to show you," he says. Caitlin just nods. She isn't ready yet but keeps that in mind.
As Cait makes her way further into the house, her team is standing there. This is the first time seeing anyone outside of your family since that night.
Kate is the first one to come up to Caitlin and pull her into a hug. Kate is crying as she hugs her. When Caitlin is in public settings - she doesn't tend to cry, she does everything in her willpower not to because someone had to stay composed and when you were around, it wasn't you. She hugs Kate back and rubs her back.
All the girls give their condolences and talk about their favorite memories with you. Kate is holding Caitlin's hand, grounding her.
Caitlin stands there, trying to be polite and listen to how much they all loved you and adored you but she was crawling in her skin. None of this still feels right. Somewhere in Caitlin's mind and heart, she is waiting for you to walk through the front door and tell everybody that there is no one to mourn and that she is okay. But that was all just a dream.
Caitlin excuses herself and decides she wants to be alone. She begins walking and before she knows it, she is standing at the door to your room. The door is closed and she doesn't remember this being the destination she was looking for.
Her breath begins to unease itself as her hand comes to the doorknob. She twists it and opens the door, not yet daring to take a step inside. She stands looking around - the all too familiar space feeling empty. A pain builds in her chest as she walks through and makes her way to your dresser.
She looks at all that it holds. Little trinkets that the two of you saw value in, old jewelry, and many pictures of the two of you. Photos of you growing up and in high school. Her fingers run along your face on all of them - tears finally making an appearance on her own.
She then makes her way to your closet - bringing an old high school basketball sweatshirt into her chest. She inhales the scent of it, dampening it with her tears. She puts it on and hugs her arms around her body. She makes her way over to your bed and runs her hands over it, remembering all the times she had spent the night here with you. She lays down and curls up into a ball.
Looking over, she sees an old teddy bear that the two of you had made at Build-a-Bear for one of your anniversaries. She takes hold of the bear and snuggles into it - finally allowing her sobs to release.
Every time she begins to feel better, she gets hit by another truck. This one being the second biggest only to the night it all happened.
After some time, she finally begins to settle down. She sees your dad pass by. Caitlin gets up and runs to the doorway, calling for him.
"Caitlin," he begins, as he slightly peers into your room. "We haven't been in (Y/n's) room since it happened, we haven't had the strength to..." He continues.
"You said you had something you wanted to show me?" She asks, not really sure if she is ready but wants to know.
"Oh yes, wait here, let me grab it," he says and goes to get something from your parent's room. He comes back holding something in his hand.
He passes it to Caitlin. It is a small velvet box. Caitlin's hands begin to shake.
"When you are ready, you can open it. It doesn't have to be now, but I know it belongs to you." He says as there is some confusion written on Caitlin's face. He explains. "This was my mother's, she passed it down to Y/n when she mentioned the two of you started dating. We have been holding onto it but like I said, it's yours." He chokes out the last part and excuses himself.
Caitlin goes to sit on your bed and just stares at the box in her hands.
She slowly opens the box to see the most beautiful diamond ring sitting in it. Tears begin to fall again as she removes it from the box and places it on her finger.
It's your grandmother's wedding ring. Your grandmother had given you her wedding ring for when you were ready to ask Caitlin to marry you. Caitlin looks at the ring on her finger and clutches her hand to her chest - you were going to ask her to be your wife.
As Cait was going to close the box, a little piece of paper caught her eye. She pulls it out and opens the folded piece. She whispers the words on the page.
"Dear Y/n, It is clear to me how much you love Caitlin. I could see it before the two of you started dating, it was only a matter of time. She is your person like your grandfather was to me. I am giving you this ring for when the time is right and you are ready to build a life with her. May you love each other more and more each day, as your grandfather and I did. I love you, sweet girl. - Grams"
Caitlin struggled through the letter but was glad she did. She realized you had been holding on to this ring for the past 5 years.
*Two months later*
Caitlin was back at school and back at practice with the girls. Each girl on the team took turns watching over Caitlin. It was never said but she knew, at no point was she ever alone except to sleep.
Tonight was her first game back and it has been a love-hate relationship getting back on the court. Basketball has always been her love but it was off-putting being on the court without you. The two of you had played together for so long, neither of you had to think when it came to making things happen. Coming back to practice it was like learning a whole new sport.
As the team was in the locker room before the game - they were getting a talk from Coach Bluder before taking the court for the first game of March Madness.
"We are going to go out there and give our everything. There is nothing we are not ready for - each and every one of you has put in the blood, sweat, and tears and we are going to show the world that this is our time." She says getting the team fired up. Her final words bring silence among the group. "As we go out there, we are going out there incomplete. We are missing someone who has changed this team for the better and when we step foot onto that court, we are walking out there in her honor. Y/n will always be a part of this team and as she carried this team as captain before - she still does today."
Caitlin fiddles with the ring that would have wed the two of you and safety pins it to the left side of her sports bra. There was no way she was walking out there without you with her.
The team lines up in silence - ready to go out and honor you. And that is exactly what they did.
Iowa went 91-65, absolutely crushing the first round of March Madness. Your team fought its way back to the Final Four and Caitlin dedicated every game to you.
The night of the Final Four was a battle - UConn put up an amazing fight, but the Hawkeyes came out on top. After the game - it was decided that Caitlin would step into the post-game press conference. Her first one since your passing.
As she sits down, the crowd takes a second to settle, surprised seeing her out there considering she hadn't been in any of the previous ones despite being an all-star in each of them.
The press starts asking questions about the game and how the team was able to pull the win off. Everything was going smoothly until one reporter asked about you.
"Caitlin, there was a loss on your team right earlier in the season - how has that affected the team dynamic?" The reporter asks.
She was expecting someone to ask but even anticipating the question, it took her some time to gather her thoughts. Just as she was about to speak - Kate stepped up and responded for her. Caitlin was extremely thankful and when Kate was done she finally found the words she wanted to say.
"No one on this team has felt the loss of Y/n more than I have. She was my #1 on and off the court," she says beginning to get choked up. "Her absence is felt deeper than anyone can imagine and this team will never be the same without her."
'I will never be the same without her' is what Caitlin wanted to say but couldn't between the tears that began to fall. Kate passed her a towel, which she gladly accepted. She tried so hard to keep it together but it was all still so fresh.
That night, Kate and some of the other girls spent the night at Caitlin's so she wouldn't have to be alone. It had only been a few months but Caitlin was afraid she would never truly heal from you.
*One year later*
Caitlin was living out the dream the two of you talked about so often. She was in the WNBA and was playing for the Indiana Fever. She had an incredible rookie year and was currently at an awards night where she was going to receive the Rookie of the Year award.
The night was going well and it was time for the award presentation. When they announce Caitlin as rookie of the year, she ascends the stage and accepts the award, giving the commissioner a hug before taking her place to make her speech.
"First off, I want to say a huge thank you to my team - if it wasn't for them taking me in like they did, I wouldn't be standing here today. I want to thank my Iowa team who grew me and shaped me. Thank you to my parents and brothers for always pushing me and believing in me and my ability." She looks down at the award and at her hand that wears her ring. "The last thank you I want to give is to Y/n, my wife." She says it knowing the weight it holds but it comes out so naturally.
"I owe my everything to her. She was my supporter from day one and every day after that she wouldn't settle for anything less than my best. Even when I would say I was giving her my all - she would push me past that, strengthening me and showing me who I truly had the potential to become. I stand before you all today because of her love of this sport, and her love of me." Caitlin makes the slightest adjustment to look up, to anyone in the audience it looks like she is looking up at the balcony but all those who knew you, know that she is looking up to you. "Baby, we did it," she says as a single tear rolls down her cheek. "We are living out our dream."
AN: DON'T ASK ME TO APOLOGIZE BECAUSE I WON'T. Please let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍
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jazzyoranges · 24 hours
Text
Late nights - drabble
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)
Words: 0.9k
A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅
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You really didn’t mean to be out for so long
First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.
Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous
So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck
Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather
So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day
At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister
Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?
Yes. Yes it was.
But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands
Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort
Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you
Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep
“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.
Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.
“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew
“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”
The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver
Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie
Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie
“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck
“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder
“When was that?”
“When you didn’t come home on time”
“And I gave you a reason why I was late”
“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice
Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down
“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you
“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”
You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat
When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings
You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you
So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it
You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later
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railingsofsorrow · 1 day
Text
we'll be alright
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader
w.c: 2.4K
warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.
A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.
navi
masterpost
cm masterlist
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“what are you doing?”
“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”
you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.
“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”
“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”
“have you told him?”
“no.”
her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.
“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.
seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.
“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”
you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.
“thanks, jayge,” you say.
jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.
“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.
“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.
he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.
you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”
“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.
“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”
“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”
you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”
“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”
a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.
“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”
“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.
“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”
your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.
you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.
“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.
“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.
“you said I can't.”
“you're correcting my misspellings now?”
spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.
“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.
he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.
“are you okay?”
silence. and then,
“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.
“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”
“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”
“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”
you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”
“and I don't believe you.”
somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.
“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.
spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.
“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”
“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”
“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.
“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.
“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”
“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.
he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?
spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.
he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.
he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.
it's actually the opposite.
“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.
“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”
letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”
he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”
“are you mad?”
he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”
you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”
spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”
your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.
“what?” he nudges your nose with his.
“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.
“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”
you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.
spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.
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taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj
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b0r3dtod3ath · 17 hours
Note
Hello hi!
Can you do a challengers fic?
Art x reader, where he and reader had a flirty relationship but he started to experiment with tashi and patrick and she was like "well, it happens" but the trio didnt work out so he tried to recandle that dinamic between him and reader but she lost all the atraction to him.
(lots of groveling)
Thank you!
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Thank you for the request!
Warnings: Mention of an injury, curse words. 
You and Art have been friends since middle school and since then he was always by your side. Your shared interest in tennis and joint decision about applying to Stanford resulted in you two being inseparable best friends. Well, maybe not really. Your relationship was quite hard to describe. People constantly mistook you for a couple but in reality you were just really close. Sure, there were a lot of flirtatious moments, some may even say romantic, but you never thought about it too deeply, thinking that it’s just the way Art is. 
Each morning he knocked vigorously on your dorm room door. “You need to wake up! We need to go.” The sight that he sees when you open the door always makes his heart skip a beat. Messy hair and a toothbrush in your mouth give him a glimpse of what it would be like if he was living with you. “Good morning!” He gives you a beautiful smile as he hands you a coffee in your favorite thermos. He insists on doing it because “it saves time in the morning as he’s up anyways”. Oh and also when you finish he takes the cup back to clean it so he doesn't bother you in the morning. His friend Patrick has always made fun of him for those small gestures but he recently got a girlfriend so he’s busy. Actually, you have heard of Tashi. She attends your school and you were supposed to play against her in a local tournament. You have heard that she’s really good but people also always point out your skills.
You head to the canteen, sipping your coffee as Art tells you about Patrick’s new girlfriend. It’s not like you are jealous but hearing your male best friend ramble about another girl is weird. You keep quiet, after all there was nothing romantic between you two. You eat your breakfast without saying much which goes unnoticed to your friend. He stops eating, looking at your face for a moment, trying to figure out what’s going on in your mind “I saw they had watermelon in the fruit section. I can bring it for you if you want. Did something happen? You know you can always talk to me. I will always be there for you.” The gentle tone in his voice almost feels like he is talking to a lost child, scared to make you withdraw. “No, no. It’s fine. I’m just a bit less confident about the next match. You know, after what happened a few days ago, my leg still sometimes cramps up a bit.” you halfy make up a lie. You were stressed about the match but it had nothing to do with your calf. “You should have told me earlier. I will massage it before we train today. You are going to do amazing".
He didn’t listen to your begging not to knead your muscle so you ended up with him rubbing it firmly enough to “help you” but gently enough not to hurt you. As you trained he could sense your frustration. Sure, it made you more confident on the court as you transferred your anger into each fore and backhand. Then suddenly you stop. Your opponent gives you a confused look as you out of the blue ignore the ball. “I don’t feel well. I’m gonna call it quits. I have a test tomorrow anyway that I should study for. I can’t be hitting a ball with a racket my whole life.” you look at him, his expression as shocked as a moment ago. “See you in the evening?” You two usually had some evening tennis sessions or just went for some walks as there were not many people around that time and you could freely chat about anything. “Well. I can’t actually make it today. I’m really sorry. Patrick invited me for some drinks. He wants me to meet Tashi”. His eyes looked like they belonged to a puppy. “Oh, yea. I mean. That’s fine. See you tomorrow then.” you say without giving him the usual light hug as a goodbye.
The following morning Art didn’t knock on your door. You assumed he must have been tired from the day before but it still felt unusual. You decided to push it aside and focus on yourself and your preparations to play against Tashi. The match started at 2 pm so you still had some time to get ready. You followed your usual routine with only one exception - your regular companion. 
The tennis court simmered under the midday sun, a gentle breeze whispered through the air, carrying a promise of an intense match. It was one of the most anticipated matches of the season on the Stanford campus. It was the end of a debate of who is the best tennis player among students but most importantly it was evidence of passion for sports and competition. You looked at Tashi coming on the court, getting a bigger applause than you did. You didn’t let it bother you, it didn’t matter who was the fan favorite, it mattered who was better. You were first to serve. Silence established itself on the court, a neon yellow ball bounced a few times between your hand and the ground. You looked deeply into your opponent’s eyes. It wasn’t a game of tennis, it was a battle for dominance. 
A thunderous serve from you, the ball sliced through the air with precision. Tashi returned it with equal force, the ball skimming just inches above the net. Back and forth you played, each stroke a testament to your skill and determination. The crowd watched in silence, fully immersed in the spectacle unfolding before them. As the match wore on, the intensity only seemed to grow. Tashi unleashed a powerful forehand, sending the ball to the other side of the net. But you were quick to react, sprinting across the court with lightning speed to return it with a perfectly executed backhand. The crowd erupted into applause, recognizing the sheer athleticism on display.  The game continued in this fashion, each player refusing to give an inch. Your muscles burned like they were on fire as you chased down every shot, your mind focused solely on victory. On letting her know who Art belongs to. 
Then, in a heartbeat, disaster struck. As Tashi ran to return a particularly fierce shot, her foot slipped. Time seemed to slow as she stumbled forward, her knee buckling beneath her weight. With a sharp cry of pain, she collapsed to the ground, clutching her injured leg. She started crying like a hurt animal, unable to think what people thought of her. You stood there in pure shock, unsure of what to do. In the corner of your eye you saw Art running up to her and trying to calm her down. 
You felt really bad for her. Not liking her didn’t mean you were happy for her injury. After asking the medical team about her, you got to know that she’s waiting for an ambulance. When you found her, your heart immediately dropped at the sight of Art holding her hand. “I just wanted to say, I’m so sorry it happened, I-” you started to apologize, “Out! Out! Out!” she screamed at you “But-” you tried to say something but Art stood up “Get the fuck out!”. He had never raised his voice towards you. He was always your gentle, soft, good boy. You silently walked away as hot tears rolled on your cheeks. The echo of your sobs filled your room for the whole night. 
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For the next few weeks you didn’t see Art. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to see him, you did actually, but he was always accompanied by Tashi or Patrick. It did make you feel a bit lonely but you focused on training and improving. You actually started to do really well and moved up the rank. Despite an opportunity to get an apartment you stayed at Stanford. You told everyone that you would feel lonely living alone, but the truth was you just didn’t want to leave Art. He would still sometimes catch your glimpse across the canteen or the training hall but no words were exchanged. 
He found you one evening, your silhouette illuminated by the artificial glow of the light. You were alone, your movements fluid yet tense as you practiced your strokes with precision. Taking a deep breath, Art approached you cautiously, unsure of how you would react to his presence. "Hey" he said softly, his voice tinged with uncertainty. You turned to face him, your expression stone cold. You said nothing. A hint of bitterness in your eyes. "I-I just wanted to see how you were doing," he said, his words stumbling over each other in his nervousness. "What do you want?" you snapped, you tone sharp and cutting. Determination glinting in his eyes. "I saw you playing alone, and I thought... maybe you could use a partner," he offered hesitantly. You scoffed, your grip on the racquet tightening as you glared at him. "And why would I want to play with you?". Art took a step closer, his gaze unwavering as he met your overwhelming stare. "Because I miss playing with you, I miss you" he admitted softly. "And because I'm sorry. Truly sorry for what I did." You hesitated for a moment, your eyes narrowing as you considered his offer. “Don’t you have to take care of your little Tashi’s leg?” you said under your nose. "Fine. But don't expect too much" you warned.  
As you began to play, your movements were sharp and precise, your shots landing with deadly accuracy. Art did his best to keep up, but he couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach. You had always been better than him but he could sense something else. After all, tennis was the most intimate out of all sports. Suddenly, you unleashed a powerful forehand that sailed towards Art with an alarming speed. Instinctively, he raised his racket to block the shot, but it ricocheted off the strings with a resounding thud, leaving him staggering backwards. "Are you trying to kill me or something?" he exclaimed, his heart racing as he moved closer to the net. You turned around -  a little habit you gained, you never looked at your opponent after scoring a point. "Maybe," you replied nonchalantly, your tone betraying a hint of amusement. Art chuckled nervously, rubbing his sore arm where the ball had made contact, as he got closer and closer to you. "Well, you can kill me if you want," he offered, making you chuckle. He reached to touch your hand, his expression pleading, as you turned. "Please. I know I messed up, but I can't stand not having you in my life. I... I have feelings for you. And I need you to know that. I don’t see you as just a friend." You felt your heart skip a beat at his confession, your breath catching in your throat. You had suspected as much, but hearing him say the words out loud sent a jolt of electricity through your veins. "I... I don't know, Art” you responded, torn between the anger still simmering inside you and the warmth of his words. "You ditched me for her. "Art nodded, his eyes brimming with regret. "I know. And I'm so sorry. I was weak and I thought you would never look at me the same way I look at you. I'll do anything to make it right, I swear." he got on his knees, both hands holding yours. “I will never leave your side, I will show you how much I love you and I will buy you this diamond bracelet you always wanted.” You chuckled “Art, get up. I don’t need a bracelet from you. I will give this a chance.” A smile broke across Art’s face, relief flooding his features as he reached out to wrap you in a tight embrace. "Thank you, I promise, you won't regret this." he murmured, his voice thick with emotion and eyes wet with tears. You returned the hug. The two of you swayed for a moment before you broke the silence with your dead serious tone. “Never raise your voice at me again, understand?” He looked deeply in your eyes. “Understood, maam. I’m incredibly sorry”.
April 29, 2024
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television-overload · 15 hours
Text
of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 4/34 - phone battery
[Read on AO3]
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After a bit of a drought of decent cases, their latest, honest to goodness X-File was a welcome distraction. It hadn’t taken too long to wrap up either, which was a double win for Scully, who could only handle so many nights in a dilapidated motel room in a row. With the case now solved, more or less, all that remained for the morning was a bit of paperwork and a drive to the nearest airport to get back home.
“Your mom called me last night,” Mulder says, sitting in the driver’s seat of their rental car.
“Last night?” Scully asks, furrowing her brows. “What for?”
“It was when we got back to the motel, after your phone battery went dead. I told her to give it a few minutes and try again, give you a chance to get it charged.”
Scully doesn’t respond immediately, and when Mulder turns to look at her, he sees a puzzled look on her face, a crease forming between her brows.
“She didn’t call you?” he asks, matching her expression and turning his attention back to the road.
“No,” Scully answers, concern marring her features. “What did she say?”
“I think she was going to ask you something about Christmas, figuring out plans or something,” he says. “I did mention we were on a case, maybe she decided she’ll just call when you get back and aren’t busy.”
“Probably,” Scully says, then sits back in the passenger seat and gazes out the window at the passing scenery.
He steals another glance at her, thinking about the heavy weight that hung over his brief conversation with his future mother-in-law on the phone the night before. It really had been a short talk, with her asking if he knew where Scully (rather, Dana) was, and then how he’s been doing since his unwitting brain surgery. 
He made polite conversation, of course, but keeping such a gigantic secret from a woman like Margaret Scully has a way of making one feel guilty for things they aren’t even guilty of. If the call had gone on much longer, he fears he would have started confessing like a Catholic over the phone, and he couldn’t have that.
Clearing his throat, he asks, “You think we should tell her about us?” then quickly corrects, “I mean– the adoption, eloping…”
She shakes her head. “I don’t think so. Not yet,” she answers.
He shoots her another glance—only for a moment—but to be honest, that wasn’t the answer he’d been expecting. 
“I know you said you don’t want a big wedding or anything, but if you want to tell her, you can. I doubt she’d give you any real trouble for it,” he reasons, having a hard time believing Mrs. Scully would be anything but supportive once everything has been explained to her.
“It’s not that. I just—” she struggles to explain. “With Emily, it was so stressful and confusing for her. I don’t want to put her through more of that unless…”
Ah.
He reaches over and places his hand on top of hers, which rests on her knee.
“Unless you’re absolutely sure this is going to work out,” he finishes, and she nods, grateful she doesn’t have to conjure the words herself.
“There are so many variables at play here, Mulder. Any one of them could go wrong,” she says. He knows she’s mentally making a list, calculating how likely each factor is to throw a wrench in their plans. She’d be here a while if she wanted to plan for every possibility, but that won’t stop her from trying, he knows.
He squeezes her hand once. “I hope you know that whatever happens, you don’t have to worry about me. I’m not going anywhere.”
That earns a small smile, and she looks down at her lap in that way that she thinks hides her blush from him. Thankfully, it does no such thing. 
“No, the Mulder variable is one that I have on good authority is fairly constant,” she says, not quite meeting his eyes.
“Oh? And are those findings available in a peer-reviewed journal article, Dr. Scully?” he teases back. “If you don’t cite your sources, I’m afraid your claims may be dismissed as unsubstantiated by the wider scientific community.”
“I’ll have to get back to you on that,” she says, “I’m still working on gathering all my evidence. Research takes time, you know.”
“Maybe run some more tests,” he suggests.
She reaches out, running a hand through his hair, gently brushing over the place where his head had been drilled into.
“I’ll try to keep it less invasive than your previous experiences,” she teases, a small smile pulling at her lips. 
He breathes out a laugh, forcing his focus back on the road instead of on the feeling of her nimble fingers tousling his hair.
-.-.-
Their discussion picks up again on the plane, perhaps serving as a distraction for his partner who isn’t all that fond of flying.
“You agree with me, don’t you?” she asks.
He gives her a look, his best impression of the Skeptical Scully Brow.
“Is that a blanket statement? Because in general, no, I think that would be factually incorrect, Scully, that’s kind of our whole thing.”
“I mean,” she says, rolling her eyes, “that we should wait to tell people. At least my family.”
He turns toward her. That she’s bringing this up again shows that it’s something she’s really worried about. If it’s reassurance she needs, he’s happy to give it to her.
“Sure, Scully. You know them best.” Really it isn’t his place to decide this, but if she’s asking, maybe she wants it to be. They will, in a way, be his family too if all this works out.
She takes a deep breath, her usual flying anxiety momentarily forgotten in favor of whatever new kind of anxiety this was. “I just mean– If we even get approved, and if we get matched with someone… there’s always a chance the birth mother changes her mind at the last minute,” she says, talking through the scenario aloud. “This will be hard enough with just you and I to worry about. I don’t want to have to think about protecting my mother from heartbreak on top of everything else.”
He has to suppress a sigh on hearing her pessimistic view of what he’s hoping will be a very joyous process. But then again, this is what he loves about her. She’s the yin to his yang. The day to his night. Together, they cover all their bases, leaving no stone unturned in their search for the truth. Why should this be any different? He won’t get very far on nothing but blind hope. She’s here to ensure they are prepared for everything, come what may. Unfortunately, that means her taking on an extra burden of worry, one he hopes he might help alleviate.
“We can wait to tell them,” he vows, hoping that will put a stop to her spiraling. “I’m with you on this, don’t forget. We’re a team.”
She leans back, her head resting against the back of her seat, a sign he knows means she’s relaxing a little.
Success.
Still, the idea of telling no one at all feels dangerous. They need to have someone in their corner besides each other, for a whole slew of reasons. Character witness, taking time off work, filing necessary paperwork so that everything looks totally above board when they make it official… Really, there’s only one person he feels they have to tell, and that’s—
“What about Skinner?”
She turns her head to look at him, confusion playing on her face. “What about him?”
“I think we should tell him. Sooner than later.”
Maybe he should have planned out his pitch a little better. He can tell she’s not immediately drawn to the idea. He should have made up a list of reasons why it is a good plan, not just blurted out his half-formed thought before it was ready.
“But Mulder, what if they split us up?”
He turns in his seat, his attention intensifying. “That’s why we only tell Skinner. Ask him to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.” She’s gonna need more than that. Think! Tap into those persuasive skills! "But, Scully, there’s going to be times we might have to take an afternoon off for a meeting or something. It will be easier if he knows.”
His focused gaze implores her to consider it. 
“I won’t let him split us up. It won’t happen.”
He can’t promise that, she knows, but they know Skinner well enough by now, don’t they? Sure, there may have been times when their trust in him wasn’t so strong, but it has been years now. Surely he would keep this to himself if they asked, right?
“Okay. You’re right…” she says tentatively, turning over his proposition in her head. “Just Skinner. No one else?”
His pinkie finger finds its way to hers and nudges it playfully. When she looks up at him, he smiles.
“Just you, me, and our big, bald boss makes three.”
~~~
SURPRISE - that was a short chapter, so here's another to make up for it
Chapter 5/34 - rulebook
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“Hold on, go back to the IVF,” the follically challenged Assistant Director says, his hands tented in front of him. His brows furrow in concentration, and he breathes deeply through his nose, looking up at the two agents across the desk from him. “In vitro fertilization, right? So you’re saying—”
“Agent Mulder and I attempted to conceive a child through scientific means last year, yes.”
Scully’s answer is straightforward, perhaps hoping it will be like ripping off a band-aid. Judging by his stoic reaction, his pursed lips, the vein popping out of his forehead… her nonchalance does not really soften the blow.
His gruff voice returns after a moment of staring at them, his expression unreadable. “Right. Okay. Just wanted to make sure I was understanding.”
“It was unsuccessful,” Scully offers, continuing. “The ova that were fertilized unfortunately were not viable, probably due to the inconsistent storage conditions in which Mulder found them.”
“Yes, that– that’s where you lost me. The part about your abduction and then the cancer…” He sets a hand on top of one of the files Mulder had brought him, as if any of the words in that folder made a lick of sense to him.
“Believe me, sir, it’s just about as confusing to us as it is to you,” Mulder says.
Skinner clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 
“Well, I’m very sorry about what happened to you, Agent Scully. I suppose that also explains the existence of… well…”
Emily. A story he never had fully explained.
“Yes, Emily was somehow part of all this. She was an experiment, never meant for me to find.”
Skinner balls his hand into a fist, tamping down the rage he feels bubbling up inside. “These men need to pay. What they’ve done to you– to you both… ”
“With all due respect, sir,” Mulder breaks in, “we’re not here to talk about revenge. We’re just trying to move forward.”
That’s… a surprisingly healthy outlook, coming from Mulder. What had Scully done to him? Whatever it was, the man owed her a heckuva lot more than whatever her last birthday and Christmas gifts had been. 
“Of course, I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “So, what is it that you were asking for?”
The two basement-dwelling agents glance at each other, words being passed unspoken between them. It’s unnerving, the way they do that. Downright spooky.
Evidently, they come to the decision that it’s Mulder who should say the next part.
“Well, since we’re looking into adoption, sir, we thought it might be easier if we got married.”
Silence fills the room, an inadvertent staredown commencing between all parties.
“Married.”
Mulder nods. “That’s right.”
Scully is sitting bolt upright in her chair, a picture of professionalism on the surface, but in conjunction with the topic of discussion, it feels distinctly forced. Mulder, on the other hand, is bouncing his knee so severely that it’s a wonder he hasn’t worn a hole in the carpet below him yet.
“We just don’t want there to be any issues here on the bureaucratic side of things, if at all possible,” Mulder adds. “In fact, we’d prefer to keep this quiet, at least until we know if this will work.”
Skinner presses his lips together, shifting his gaze between them once again. 
“Well, your personal relationship will have to be disclosed to HR at some point. I can pull some strings—”
“Sir—”
“Although it would have been good to know a little earlier on. Say, around the time you were making some pretty serious medical decisions that may have affected your ability to do your jobs���”
“Sir, I—”
Mulder’s attempts to interrupt go unnoticed. 
“You know, I have to commend you. You’ve really kept up appearances around here. I had my suspicions, of course, but you continued on like normal, I almost wouldn’t have guessed—”
“Sir, we’re not actually… together.” Finally, Mulder is able to get the words out, leaving an awkward hush in their wake.
Skinner leans forward, turning his ear toward the younger man as if he hadn’t heard him the first time. “What do you mean?”
A pink tinge blooms on Mulder’s cheeks. “We’re not– Sir, this marriage is a formality, to make the application process easier and hopefully give us better chances of getting approved.”
“A formality,” Skinner repeats.
“Yes. We– We’re just trying to do whatever’s best to improve the odds that this works out.”
One of these days he’s just going to disappear to Cancún. Seriously, he’ll do it. This can’t be good for his health. He suppresses a groan, storing up a massive eye roll for whenever these two idiots leave the room. Only they could think up something like getting married and adopting a child platonically . Not to mention everything else they’d evidently been doing when left to their own devices.
“Right. That’s– Okay, sure. So then, the IVF…”
Scully pipes up. “I asked Mulder, and he agreed to help me.”
“As a friend?” He feels like this bears clarification.
“Is there something against that in the rulebook?” Mulder asks challengingly.
The look he gives them in return is withering. “I don’t think there’s a rulebook for all the insane stuff you two get up to, but I might have to make one, after this.” The two of them have the decency to look chastised at this, though he knows from experience it will do no good in the long run. “You know this is not normal, right?”
“Come on, Skinner, when have I ever been referred to as normal?” Mulder laughs.
“ You , I might expect this from,” he says, pointing a finger in his direction. “It’s Agent Scully that surprises me. You’ve really done a number on her, haven’t you?”
He takes a little solace in the fact that all this IVF business happened under Kersh’s watch, not his own. Imagine if it had worked…
“Will you help us or not, sir?” Scully asks, impatience beginning to make her uneasy in her seat.
He waves a hand in the air. “Yeah, yeah. I thought this day might come at some point, but… definitely not like this.” His mind is wandering already, thinking back to any signs he might have missed, things that may have gone wrong in his career to lead him to this exact moment. “You have my blessing, or whatever it is you came to get from me. You need anything, just ask.”
Scully lets out a sigh, and her shoulders visibly relax.
Mulder moves to stand without another moment’s hesitation, bouncing up with far more energy than a man of his age should have. “Thank you, sir. I promise, this is the last time we ask you to cover for us.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Agent Mulder,” Skinner warns, though his words contain no malice. If anything, he’s resigned.
As much as these two make him tear his hair out (what little he has left), he holds a certain fondness for them that is undeniable. 
“And, hey– I’m happy for you. Seriously. The things I’ve seen you go through over the years, everything you’ve lost… You deserve this. Even if I don’t understand it.”
Mulder holds out a hand for him to shake. “Skinner. Thank you. Really.”
He nods. “Good luck with everything. And if you need any advice on adoption, my ex-wife’s sister has gone through it before. I can get you in touch, if you want.”
“We’d really appreciate that.”
They’re gone before he knows it, heads bent toward each other in secretive conversation before they’re even out of sight. 
Skinner lets out the eye roll from earlier, leaning back in his desk chair in exhaustion.
They’d figure it out sooner or later, of that he is certain. It’s just taking a little longer than he expected, that’s all.
-.-.-
"I want to get married Christmas Eve."
The proposition comes out of nowhere on a Thursday afternoon, and Mulder nearly spills his coffee mug all over his desk instead of setting it down gently like he was trying to do.
"Next week?" he sputters, the burning liquid nearly going down the wrong pipe.
She purses her lips. "...That's when Christmas is, yeah Mulder."
"I knew there was a reason that guy on the street corner with the bell was dressed as Santa Claus," he jokes, wiping a few splattered droplets of coffee from his tie.
"Mulder..."
"Okay, okay,” he says, dropping the jokester act. “But don't you want to spend the day with your family?" he asks.
She shrugs. "Maybe.” Her eyes are locked on the desk in front of her, pointedly avoiding his concerned look. “I'll go for a little while, but they don't... understand me like they used to. Maybe it's just me, but when I'm with them for too long, I get this sense that they're... afraid of me. Or somehow uncomfortable around me. Ever since Emily..."
He stops her. "That's their problem, Scully. I'm sure they don't mean it."
"I know, it's just... hard."
He bites down on his bottom lip to hold back the slew of words he'd like to say to Bill Scully, Jr. He knows that's not what Scully needs right now, as much as it would make him feel better to have a go at him.
"Is that why you went ghostbusting with me last Christmas?" he asks, his heart softening at the thought. 
"I don't know, maybe a little,” she shrugs. “It helped get my mind off things." She looks embarrassed to admit such a thing, but it only serves to make his heart twist in his chest. 
"Well, too bad we don't have more time to plan. Could have had a Christmas Eve wedding in a haunted house," he deadpans.
This succeeds in getting her to look at him, and she emits a nervous giggle he doesn't often hear. "Absolutely not.”
He grins, leaning back in his chair and twirling a pencil between his fingers. "Come on, don't you think Maurice and Lyda would like to know we’re getting married? I'm sure they'd have a field day with all our issues from the past year."
"Stop it, that didn't really happen."
"Well even if it didn't, I found it enlightening."
"Good for you. No, the courthouse will be fine."
They fall silent, the jovial atmosphere settling.
"And you don't want to invite your family?” he asks, clarifying. "Since they'll be in town?"
She shakes her head. "No, I think it should be just us."
Just us. He likes the sound of that. But still, one problem remains—
"Alright, so let me get this straight... you want to get married—to me—the one day a year your brother is in town? Are you trying to get me killed?"
Her lips quirk up at the corners. "He won't find out, Mulder."
"You like the danger of it, don't you?” he teases, leaning toward her. “You're a rebel at heart. I knew it. Probably snuck out every night in high school to run around with Johnny from the football team."
She stares at him unwaveringly, not dignifying him with a response. "Is it a yes or a no?" she asks, arms crossed in front of her.
He sobers, meeting her eyes with startling honesty. "I'll marry you any day of the year, Scully,” he says, and it's the truth. It has been the truth for years now. “Just remind me to wear a cup in case he figures it out."
"You're ridiculous."
-.-.-
The next week passes in a blur. Arrangements are made, paperwork acquired, work winds down for the holidays, and for once, Mulder isn't bored out of his mind this time of year.
"I was thinking… for tomorrow..." her voice crackles over the phone.
"Not having second thoughts, are you?" Mulder asks, his tone light and teasing despite the tinge of genuine concern he tamps down.
"No, of course not,” she assures him. “I was thinking, I'll need an excuse to leave Christmas at my mom's."
"No problem,” he says with a shrug. “I'll give you a call and make up some case we have to work."
He hears her sigh and gets the distinct impression that his suggestion was somehow wrong. "I can't ask you to do that,” she says. “They already blame you for last year."
"Gee, that's reassuring,” he chuckles, leaning back on his leather sofa. He adjusts the phone cradle on his chest, stretching the power cord to its limits.
"Not all of them, but, you know—"
"Bill."
"Yeah."
He waits for a second, but when she offers no further thoughts, he asks, "Then what do you suggest?"
She waits a moment more before responding. 
"Before you say anything, just listen to what I have to say…”
Oh boy.
"Why does that not give me a good feeling?" he muses aloud, his fingers twirling and tangling with the cord on the phone.
"The only way for you to be in the clear is if you're... with me, when we get called away."
"Scully—"
"We can just leave straight from her house, it's closer anyway."
"All excellent points, except for one thing..."
"Skinner can call us in."
Silence. He wants to argue but he can't.
"He already knows what's happening, I'm sure he'd be happy to help us," she reasons.
"I'm not gonna be able to talk myself out of this, am I?" he asks, a wry smile on his face. He's all out of excuses. 
"Mulder, if this works out... Well, there's a chance that by this time next year, we'll be a... family... of some sort, anyway. You might have to get used to it."
The word family sends a thrill right through him. He never thought he'd have one of those again. Never in a million years.
"You're right,” he says regretfully, running a hand over his face. “And it's not that I don't like your family, Scully, it's just I'm not sure they like me back."
"My mom loves you,” she says decisively. “And we'll only be there a few hours anyway. The courthouse closes early for the holiday."
He closes his eyes. He can't believe he's about to agree to this.
"Alright, I'll go. Just so you can get your thrill in doing something wildly irresponsible and rebellious right under your mother's nose."
She protests, "That's not why I—"
"I know you, Scully,” he teases. “You're not as strait-laced as you like to pretend."
After they hang up, Mulder stares up at the ceiling, lost in thought. His stomach flutters with nerves, unrelated to his worries about crashing a family gathering in the morning.
‘I am getting married tomorrow,’ he thinks. To Dana Scully.
It's a Christmas miracle.
~~~
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obsessed-with-stardew · 11 hours
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After His Show
After seeing the band play a gig in the city, you ride back to town on Seb’s motorcycle. But, you get a little distracted along the way…
Sebastian xF!Reader, Sebastian xAFAB!Reader
Rating: Mature/Explicit
Tw: nsfw, mdni, smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of cigarettes, pet names, semi-public sex, oral male receiving
AN: This fic can be read as a follow up to Under His Desk or as a stand alone. I have been on the motorcycle thirst trap side of the internet lately and I thought that perfectly aligned with a fic idea. I have never ridden a motorcycle so if my descriptions are inaccurate, I’m sorry :)
Wc: 4400
It was another fall day and you had just finished a harvest which meant one thing - it was time to pop into Pierre’s for some more seeds. You head down the road that leads into town trying to decide if you want to focus on artichokes or if you have enough time left in the season to plant some fairy roses. You’re so lost doing the mental calculations that you would’ve run into Sam if he hadn’t grabbed you by the arms.
“Look where you’re going, farmer! You could’ve made a dent in me,” he jokes, squeezing your biceps. “No, but for real you’re strong right?” 
“Uh yeah, I guess I am?” you shrug.
“Well, we could use an extra roadie for the Goblin Destroyer show tomorrow night if you’re free,” he says. “I know Seb would be really happy if you were there.” Sam winks at you.
You flush, forgetting that Sam knows you and Seb have been fooling around since he almost walked in on the two of you. If you’d only grabbed your bra before hiding under Seb’s desk this embarrassment could’ve been avoided.
“Yeah, sure I don’t have any plans for tomorrow,” you say. “It would be cool to see y’all at a real gig and not just rehearsals.”
“Sweet! Okay, we’re meeting at the bus stop at 4, see you there,” Sam calls as he heads for home.
The next day you finish your chores around the farm as quickly as you can. You may be a roadie tonight, but you’re a groupie at heart and you want to look the part. When you’re satisfied that you look somewhere between halfway decent and slightly hot, you head for the bus stop. 
As you approach, you see Seb leaving. You try to catch his eye but it’s clear his head is elsewhere. When you get to the bus stop, Abigail whistles at you.
“Damn girl, you clean up nice,” she exclaims. You hadn’t really had a chance to dress up for a night out since you moved to Pelican Town a few months ago.
“Thanks,” you laugh. “You look great too, very punk rock.”
“Dude I wear this outfit literally all the time, but thanks,” she laughs.
You help load the rest of the equipment, looking around every now and then hoping to see Seb. By the time all of the gear is loaded, Sebastian still hasn’t appeared. You see Sam lingering by the doors to the bus.
“Hey Sam, is Seb… I mean I saw him heading to town when I got here and we’re about to leave,” you trail off.
“Oh yeah, he had to help his mom with something, he said he’ll meet us there,” Sam replies.
Disappointed, you board the bus behind Sam.
The ride to the venue goes by faster than you expected, and you spend the whole time laughing and joking with Sam and Abigail. Upon arrival you jump into your role as a roadie, unloading gear off the bus with the same focus you use to plant or harvest crops. When everything is set up, you head outside for a smoke break. You’ve always smoked off and on, but since hanging around Seb the habit has admittedly gotten a bit worse.
Searching your pockets for a lighter, you come up empty. You wish Seb was there, he always has one on him. As if in answer to your prayers you hear a motorcycle nearing. Looking up, you see Seb riding towards you. You had to focus to keep your mouth from falling open. Sure you’d seen him working on the bike and that was objectively hot, but seeing him ride up on it was another thing entirely. You weren’t sure if it was the confidence he rode with, but even with his face obscured by the helmet he looked sexy.
Seb pulled the bike up right next to you. He was surprised he parked straight because he had been looking only at you since he entered the lot. Seb knew you were going to be there tonight, but damn he didn’t know you were going to look this good all dressed up in black. He knows that it’s the traditional color crew wears, but he hopes you considered his reaction as you picked out your outfit - the thought makes him blush. Those tight black jeans seem to hug every curve and your top is cut just low enough to get his heart racing. 
Sebastian pulls off his helmet and runs a hand through his dark hair. 
“Need a light?” he asks, nodding toward the unlit cig in between your fingers.
“Yeah, your timing is perfect,” you say, as Seb dismounts the motorcycle and pulls a lighter from his pocket. 
You lean forward, breathing in as he lights the tip of your cigarette. 
“Sounds like you were missing me,” he teases, plucking the cig from your fingers to take a drag.
“Missing you or just your lighter, who’s to say,” you retort.
Seb offers the cig back to you, instead of taking it, you lean forward making eye contact as you take a drag while it’s still between his fingers, lips brushing his digits. Seb’s cock twitches at your brazen flirtation and he huffs out a laugh. Damn, you really know how to get him going.
Seb grabs your hand and pulls it up to his mouth. He kisses the inside of your wrist, causing you to draw in a ragged breath.
“Well I missed you, y/n…” he whispers against your wrist. 
You can’t think beyond his admission and his breath dancing across your sensitive skin. It makes your heart race and you’re certain he can feel your pulse quicken under his soft touch.
“Are you sure you haven’t missed me too?” he teases, pulling your body flush with his. Seb’s other hand captures your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his - the cherry of your cig reflected in his blown-out pupils. 
“You can tell me, baby,” he coos. “I know how to keep a secret.”
The back door to the venue opens with a bang.
“Yo Seb, you out here?” Sam’s voice calls. “It’s time for the final soundcheck!”
“Yeah man, I’ll be there in a minute,” Seb shouts back, not taking his eyes from yours.
Without warning, he pushes you back against the wall of the building, lips locking with yours, cigarette dropped forgotten on the pavement.
His hand travels to your waistband, fingers skillfully popping the button of your jeans.
“Seb what are you doing??” you hiss. “Someone will see us!”
“Not if I’m quick,” he promises with a wink.
Undoing your zipper, his long fingers find their way to your underwear. A moan escapes your lips as he brushes over the wet cloth barely covering your pussy. Seb is quick to capture the sound with his mouth.
When you quiet he whispers in your ear, “Can’t believe how wet you are for me already sweetheart.”
Gently he runs a finger through your folds under the fabric. You gasp, struggling to remain silent. Seb plunges the finger deep into your hole, covering your mouth with his other hand to keep you from crying out. 
He pumps his finger into you a few times, just enough to make you ready to beg for more when he removes his digit from you, bringing it to his lips. Watching Seb suck your juice from his finger causes your walls to clench around nothing - you can’t get over how hot and bothered this man makes you.
“Don’t worry baby, I just wanted a taste. Let’s call it a good luck charm,” Seb chuckles. “C’mon, they’ll be wondering where we are.”
As Sebastian heads onstage for sound check you grab a drink from the bar and join the waiting crowd. You’re not in the first row but you don’t mind. Positioning yourself in front of the keyboard, you look around, shocked by the number of unfamiliar faces at the show. The second the lights go down and the band takes the stage, there’s a palpable shift in the energy. Sure you’d been to rehearsals and a couple of local shows, but seeing the guys and Abby on a stage in the city, they look like they belong up there.
Seb had played it cool in front of you, but as he walks onto the stage he can feel his hands begin to shake. Shit, this is the biggest crowd they’ve ever had. He can NOT fuck it up now. Positioning himself behind his keyboards, Seb blinks through the spotlights to the sea of faces. Well maybe not a sea, but it’s a decent-sized lake. As soon as his eyes adjust, he sees you. He’d recognize your smile and bright eyes anywhere. He’s always nervous for shows, but locking eyes with you, he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. You mouth “you got this” and blow him a kiss. God you’re so cute, he thinks, shaking his head to himself as his heart swells.
Abby starts the count-off with her drumsticks and muscle memory kicks in. Seb loses himself in the music as he always does. Forgetting he’s on a stage in front of a crowd of strangers, his fingers know just where to go. As the first set ends Seb slowly comes out of his daze, guided by Sam’s voice distantly addressing the crowd.
“We are Goblin Destroyers, thanks for coming out tonight!” Sam shouts as the crowd cheers. He introduces the band, and as you hear him say “...and on the keys we have Sebastian!” a huge cheer erupts from the audience. It’s a little too big of a cheer for your liking, and you can see Seb trying to hide his flushed face behind his dark fringe. You feel a sudden surge of jealousy and mentally kick yourself for not having marked Seb’s neck with your lips and teeth before the show. You’ll have to remember that next time. 
The music starts back up and you surrender yourself to the sound. The bass thrums in your chest and your eyes are glued to Sebastian. You love watching him play. It’s as if all his worries melt away leaving just Seb and the music. It’s so hot to see him this way, totally raw - the mask he usually keeps up between himself and the world is replaced by a look of utter calm.
The only other time you’ve seen him like that is when he’s inside of you. Watching his fingers expertly fly across the keys sends a shiver down your spine as you remember where they were just an hour before. You try to keep your lust at bay and enjoy the show, but the only music you want to hear now are the sweet groans from Seb’s lips as he fucks you.
After a few more songs, the show is over and people begin filtering out of the venue. You head backstage to help pack up when a hand grabs your arm and pulls you into a dark corner. Just as you open your mouth to shout, Seb slots his lips between yours for a devastating kiss, full of tongue and teeth and the adrenaline high he still has from the gig. You pull back for breath and punch him in the arm. 
“Ow, what was that for?” he asks rubbing where you struck him.
“For making me think I was getting kidnapped,” you laugh, putting your hands around his neck. Leaning up, you whisper into his ear, “You looked really hot up there,” and you take his lobe between your teeth. Seb lets out a soft groan and cups your ass in his hands. 
“Ahem,” Abigail clears her throat. 
The two of you freeze, debating whether it’s too late to pretend you were doing something, anything more innocent than what she’s seen.
“Oh my god, chill out you two,” she scoffs, rolling her eyes. “I know you’re fucking, Sam called me as soon as he left your little sex pad.”
You burst out laughing and Seb says, “Ew, Abs don’t call my room a ‘sex pad’.”
“Whatever, will y’all just help pack up the gear?”
You turn to leave, but Seb pulls you in for another quick kiss.
“If everyone knows, I might as well show you off,” he says with a wink before walking away.
Packing up is quick work and before you know it everyone is piling into the bus.
“You want the same spot?” Abigail asks. 
“Oh um actually Seb said he’d give me a ride back….” you say. 
“Ah, I get it. You two drive safe and use protection,” She says, closing the last door on the equipment storage.
You flush and stammer, “wha- we won’t uh-”
“Oh my god wear a helmet, dumbass,” Abigail laughs, punching you lightly in the arm as she heads for the bus.
You make a final sweep of the venue to make sure nothing is left behind. Emerging into the parking lot you see Sebastian, leaning against his bike. The lone streetlight above like another spotlight, and he’s putting on a show just for you. Seb’s lips curve into a soft smile as takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls up around him, obscuring all of his features except his gleaming eyes that track you as you approach. All his.
Finally alone, the desire that has built up over the course of the night threatens to overtake you right here in the parking lot. You reach for him as Seb puts an arm around your waist pulling you close. He leans down, kissing up your neck to your ear.
“Did you get all dressed up in black just for me?” he whispers, nipping at the sensitive shell of your ear. You let out a shaky breath. 
“All for you Sebby,” you sigh.
His cock hardens from both the nickname and your admission. He pulls your body flush with his. You gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against you. 
“Let's get you home sweetheart, there’s so much I want to do to you,” Sebastian growls into your ear.
Taking one last drag from his cig, he drops it to the pavement putting it out with a twist of his foot. Seb reaches behind his back and produces two helmets. He hands you the smaller one.
“I thought you only had the one helmet,” you tease. 
“Gotta keep my girl safe,” he says with a wink. 
The two of you put on the helmets, and you watch as Seb straddles the bike. Ugh, he looks so hot, something about the helmet covering his features, only his neck exposed, really gets you turned on. He starts the bike and revs the engine. Seb reaches out a hand to you and you take it, straddling the bike behind him, you wrap your arms around his stomach. He reaches back, running his hand down your thigh, giving you a quick squeeze. And then you’re off.
God, you feel so good nestled behind him. Your arms hold him in a tight hug as your thighs squeeze him. Fuck he loves your legs and with your tits pressing into his back, he’s in heaven. Seb has always loved taking his bike out, he feels so free flying down the quiet highway under the stars.
His heart swells at the trust you place in him, to keep you safe as the two of you speed through the empty streets. He hopes you’re having a good time too when he feels you lean back and let out a whoop into the night air. Seb laughs and does the same. When he’s with you, it’s like gravity’s endless weight is lifted and he can dream again. You must sense this because you squeeze him tighter for a moment. 
Something no one ever told you about riding a motorcycle is that it’s basically one giant vibrating seat. And with your arms around the man you’re planning to fuck the second this ride is over, the sensation is making you extremely horny. You can feel the wetness pooling between your legs and you try to adjust your position to get the vibration right where you want it. Seb must think you’re uncomfortable because the moment you shift his hand reaches back to squeeze your thigh again.
His worry for you makes you determined to let him know just how good you feel. You start to move one hand, running it down his stomach. Seb returns his hand to the handlebar, thinking your touch is to reassure him, but you aren’t done. Your fingers drift downward, searching and finding. His cock stiffens and his hands clench the handles. You give him a rough squeeze through his jeans and he lets out a groan barely audible through the sound of the wind. You tug on his length as you rock your hips on the seat.
Closing your eyes you begin a slow pace of jacking him off over his jeans and grinding your pussy into the vibrations. You’re so lost in seeking your pleasure that you don’t notice Seb has turned off the highway until the motor cuts off. You whine at the lack of vibration, not fully comprehending what’s happening until Seb pulls you off the bike. His helmet is still on but his visor is open. You can see the desire flashing in his eyes. 
“My needy girl, couldn’t wait to finish the ride before needing my cock,” he growls. 
“I- I didn’t mean to…” you whimper as Seb pulls off his helmet, and runs his hand through his hair. 
“What am I gonna do with you,” he huffs out a laugh, shaking his head.
Setting down the helmet, Seb circles the bike. You take off your helmet, shaking out your hair. He drinks in the sight of you, the moonlight shining off your hair, the desperate look in your eyes, the way your black clothes cling to you and how he wants to peel them off. He pauses in front of you, hand palming his now aching erection. Your gaze is glued to that hand, taunting you.
Seb undoes his belt buckle, pops the button on his jeans and slowly pulls down the zipper. Watching you squirm with every small movement, he could do this for hours, basking in your hungry gaze knowing that you want him just as much as he wants you. But he won’t keep you waiting. He eases his cock out, hissing as the cool night air trails over his hot length. 
“On your knees baby.” 
You oblige instantly, he chuckles at your obedience. 
“That’s a good girl,” he growls. 
He shudders as you grab him, pressing a light kiss to his tip before you flick your tongue along the slit dripping with precum. And when your warm, wet mouth wraps around his length he has to stop himself from thrusting into the back of your throat. You take your time, sucking with your mouth and pumping with your hand until he can’t take it anymore.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and rocks his hips forward. Forcing his cock to hit the back of your throat. The feeling of your tongue on the underside and the light scrape of your teeth on top force out a groan from deep within his chest. His eyes lock on yours, so full of tears just waiting to spill out. He thrusts a few more times, relishing in the feeling of his balls hitting your chin. When your throat squeezes him as you choke on his cock, he swears if he died right now at least he’d die happy.
And as much as he craves to chase his own pleasure and pump his seed into your waiting mouth, he has to make sure you’re okay. Pulling his dripping length from your lips, Seb crouches down to cup your face in his hands. You cough and take in a few ragged breaths before meeting his gaze. He strokes your cheek, “such a good girl for me” he sighs pulling you in for a searing kiss.
“Up you go,” he says, pushing you up to standing. You lean back against the parked bike, not trusting your legs to hold you. Now it’s your turn to look down at Seb, even though you know you have tear streaks on your face and drool on your chin, his eyes are full of adoration. It’s so cute you don’t know if you want to laugh or to cry.
He rubs his hands soothingly up and down your thighs. Then his fingers catch the hem of your shirt, lifting it just enough for him to press a soft kiss to your stomach. He grabs the waist of your jeans, eagerly undoing the button and zipper he pulls them down to reveal your black panties. This pair has a little bow just below the waistband like you’re a present that’s his to unwrap. He stands slowly, moving his hands from your waist to cup your breasts. 
He kisses you softly then whispers in your, “Turn around for me baby.” 
You do, bracing yourself against the bike. He softly touches your ass. It’s fully on display, framed by the lacy black straps of your thong. He growls, slapping your soft flesh. You let out a moan as the cool night breeze instantly soothes the sting. Seb cups your pussy and chuckles when he feels the hot wet crotch of your panties. 
“If I knew you’d like the bike so much, I would’ve put you on it ages ago,” he teases, pulling the fabric to the side.
He teases your slit with a long finger, dragging it through your folds to lightly flick your clit. You gasp and arch your back. Fuck he loves how responsive you are, every touch eliciting a reaction. He plunges two fingers into you, pumping his cock at the same pace. He gets lost in watching his digits disappear into your warm, wet hole. 
“M-more Seb, please,” you whine, pulling him from his trance. Before you register the loss of his fingers, the tip of his cock is already teasing your folds. You moan, pushing your hips back. 
Seb chuckles. “Is my sweet girl ready for my cock?” he asks under his breath.
He knows the answer is yes, he knows you’ve been ready since before the show, but he likes making you wait. Teasing you until his cock is the only thing that could make you feel better. He notches his length at your entrance and slowly pushes into you. You groan, finally getting what you’ve been craving for days. Your toys at home can’t compare to this feeling. Being filled and fucked by your man. 
He slowly enters you until his entire length is sheathed inside your perfect pussy. Your walls clench around him causing his breathing to turn ragged. His grip on your hips tightens, as he eases out of you until just his tip is inside of you. Then without warning, he shoves all the way back in. You cry out, arching your back and Seb knows he’s hit the spot inside you that makes you see stars. He thrusts into you again and again, fingers leaving bruises on your flesh as he steers you closer and closer to orgasm. Your walls squeeze him tighter and he knows you’re close. 
“That’s it, baby,” he grunts, “Cum for me, you can do it.” 
And you do, expletives and his name string together in a chant that he’s sure could raise him from the dead as you cum around his cock. He follows you over that cliff, pushing as deep as he’s able, sealing his body with yours as tightly as he can. If two souls could join, it must feel like this, he thinks as he empties himself into you.
The two of you stay in this position, you draped over the motorcycle like Seb’s wet dream and Seb still inside you, head hung low, trying to keep his legs from giving out as he decides if he ever wants to move again. And then your pussy flutters around his length and he’s sure if he doesn’t pull out now he’ll die from the overstimulation. Easing his cock from you he watches entranced as his seed drips out of you.
He’s never wanted kids but his mind is suddenly filled with images of your belly swollen as his child grows inside of you. He flushes and his cock twitches painfully at the thought. He pushes that desire down, your relationship (if you can even call it that) is so new, he’ll do anything to keep from scaring you away.
Carefully, he covers your dripping pussy with the thin strap of fabric that is your thong. You groan and wiggle your hips as he rubs you through the fabric. Seb slaps your bare ass, huffing out a laugh at your little yelp. After tucking his cock away and pulling on his jeans, Seb helps you up and turns you around. Leaning against his bike, he pulls you into his arms kissing the top of your head and breathing in the smell of your hair. You rest your head on his shoulder, kissing his neck.
His heart is so full he fears it might burst. You pull back to see his face, the look in his eyes is so tender, so loving you have to hold back tears. You slide your hands behind his neck and pull him in for a kiss. The kiss is long, full of hope and passion and all the things you are too nervous to say.
Pulling away from the kiss, Seb squeezes your still-exposed ass. “Let’s put this away before you tempt me to go again,” he says pulling up your jeans. You giggle, buttoning your pants. When you look up Seb is back on the bike, his arm extended toward you with helmet in hand. 
“What do you say, baby, let’s keep this adventure going?” he asks, hoping you understand the weight of his words. You know that after tonight, your heart is his whether he knows it yet or not. You take the helmet and climb onto the bike behind him. You whisper into his ear, “Lead the way Sebby,” and set the helmet on your head. He starts up to engine and with a whoop, the two of you speed off into the night. 
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sluts4matt · 1 day
Text
SECRET (part three)
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pairing: nate doe x sls!erika sturniolo
summary: she had hidden her feelings away for years, but with growing up and toxic relationships it was all starting to resurface.
warnings: none
word count: 1283
authors note: i'm sorry updates for this are so slow. edit: sorry for not posting this last night my little brother was in need of cuddles to sleep.
view my master list here
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the past two weeks had been agonizing. i wasn't allowed to hang out with nate for a month. yet here he was, sitting in the living room after school playing play station with the boys.
i rubbed my hands over my face, sighing as i walked down the stairs towards the kitchen. "hey erika," nate greeted, causing me to smile. "hey nate," i say, getting a juice from the fridge.
"where's mom?" i ask.
"garage maybe?" nick said, looking away from his phone for a split second to look at me. "thanks," i say, shooting him air guns.
"mom!" i call, walking towards the garage. "mooooom!"
"what erika?" my mom says, poking her head out from behind the garage door.
"can kayla come over?" i ask, looking at her with pleading eyes. she sighs and shrugs her shoulders. "yes! thank you!" i exclaim, smiling widely. "thank you thank you!"
i run over and kiss her cheek, making her laugh. "open doors," marylou states with pointed fingers, "open doors." i roll my eyes and smile at her, nodding.
i pull my phone out of my pocket and dial kayla's number. "hello?"
"my mom said you can come over," i say excitedly. "be there in five," the girl on the other side giggles.
"she's gonna be here in five!" i yell, walking up the stairs. i get no response from any of the guys, and sigh, knowing they can't hear me over their own voices.
i go into my room and change into a new shirt, tossing my previous one into the hamper. i sit at my desk and wait for kayla, "i'm here!" a voice exclaims, making me turn to the doorway.
"she's here," i repeat, giving her a hug. "what first? gossip about sydney?" she asks, i roll my eyes at the mention of one of the girls we hated the most. the only true reason being she was rude as hell.
"no," i say, sitting back down, "how are things going with you and jay?" she groans and plops onto my bed, her eyes closed.
"not well," she groans. i give her a questioning look and she sits up. "i'm pretty sure he has a thing for someone else," she huffs, her hands moving wildly around her face.
"no," i deadpan, "what? no way. i thought he really liked you?"
"that's what i thought," she sighs, looking up.
"i'm so sorry kay," i whisper, hugging her again.
"it's fine," she laughs, her mood changing. "so, let's talk about you," she smirks. "not much there," i say, not mentioning anything about nate.
"sure," she chuckles. "oh, did you hear about the party at liz's house?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.
"liz? party? you've got to be kidding," i scoff, laughing a bit. "my mom would never let me go, especially not right after i just got busted for smoking and drinking," i tell her.
"that's why sneaking out is a fun thing to do," she says and i shake my head. "did it once, do it twice it becomes a habit," i state.
"oh come on," she whines.
"kay, if i get caught, i'm done," i stress. "fine," she pouts, crossing her arms over her chest.
"you can go," i say, her eyes lighting up, "but i can't, kay." she smiles and hugs me. "thanks eri," she says, standing up. "i'll see you at school," she says, walking out of the door.
"bye!"
a few days later, it was the weekend, and i was bored. the boys were on a trip to california and kayla was sick. i sighed as i watched the tv hung on my wall, changing the show every so often.
knocks sounded from my door, causing me to turn my head. "it open," i call. the door opens, showing my mom's face as she peaks her head in.
"i'm going shopping, need anything?" she asks, i shake my head and she shuts the door. a few moments later i hear her car leaving and the sound of the garage shutting.
i walk downstairs and check the time on my phone. 10:49 in big white letters, i groan, tugging at my brown roots.
"i should dye my hair," i say to myself, pulling my phone back out to google ideas.
after 30 minutes, i had a few good ones, i instacarted black and red hair dye to the house, as well as hair bleach and began the process.
i grabbed bowels, going to the bathroom where i set out old and stained towels.
i took a deep breath, looking at myself in the mirror. "don't fuck up," i mumble to myself. i wet my hair, then began adding the bleach after mixing the toner and developer together.
as i applied the bleach, i foiled the strands. when i finished i set a timer for thirty minutes as i waited for the bleach to do its job.
after the timer went off, i rinsed my hair, the water running a gross, pale-yellow color down the drain. i washed my hair with purple shampoo to tone it, drying my hair some with a towel before parting it down the middle of my head.
i opened the red dye first, squeezing the contents of the tube out. i sectioned the hair on the left side and began adding the dye.
i repeated the steps until the whole left side of my head was covered in the red dye.
i repeated the steps with the black, waiting an hour for it to develop on my head before i rinse.
after i rinsed, i wrapped a towel around my head, blow-drying my hair and brushing through it. when i pulled the towel off, i smiled, running my fingers through the soft, now black and red strands.
i took a snap sending it the kayla, with the text 'thoughts??'.
'omg!'
'you look hot!'
'so much better than that boring brown'
i smiled at her texts, feeling a little more confident with my appearance. i put stuff away, throwing the empty tubes of dye in the trash and washing the bowels that held the contents.
i ran upstairs, grabbing my phone and flopping on my bed. i scrolled through tiktok, stopping to watch videos every now and then.
as i was about to fall asleep, my phone rang, making me jump. my mom's name popping up on my phone, the options accept or decline flashing.
"yeah?" i say, answering the phone. "be there in five, i need help carrying in groceries," she says. "ok," i reply, getting off of the bed as the phone goes dead.
i slip on some shoes and walk outside, the cold breeze blowing against my warm skin. i see my mom's car pulling up, before it pulls into the driveway. "you changed your hair," she states, getting out.
the trunk pops open, revealing the back loaded with grocery bags. "i was bored, do you like it?" you ask. she runs her fingers through it, squinting slightly due to the sun.
"looks good on you sweetheart," she says, smiling.
we make multiple trips, bringing in bags as fast as we can. "how was shopping?" i ask, helping her put the stuff away. "fine," she breathes, putting canned foods on a shelf.
"you have work later?" she asks, and i nod my head, "six o'clock sharp." she nods her head, "when's dad getting off work?" i ask, "four," she replies, checking the time.
"what's for dinner?" i ask, closing the fridge and grabbing my phone. "probably spaghetti," she says, "can you help set the table when it's time?"
i nod my head, "yep," i say and then go back upstairs.
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tag list:
@hysteria-things @tillies33ssss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @sturniolossss @freshsturns @etvar12 @sstvrnioloo @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloa @chrryclouds @sturniolhoe @sturniolowhore @imwetforyourmom @novasturniolo03 @spencerstits @junovrsmp4 @breeloveschris @skyslondon @stars4chratt @monkeyscientist22 @sophssturn @hearts4chriss @l5ka @sturnlovr @blahbel668 @sturncakez @livvy4realll @raysmayhem-72 @jnkvivi @mssturniolo
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loveyourownsmiilee · 1 hour
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Since Oliver has admitted to playing Buck as bi from the beginning, it makes looking back at Buck's relationship with Eddie much more interesting and can make a person wonder if part of Buck was hoping poker night was really hoping it was a poker date. How easily he went along with the Christmas Elf thinking Eddie and Christopher were his family and why he quickly agreed Eddie was cute only to be confused about the fact Maddie was talking about Chimney. A part of him has been attracted to Eddie from the moment they met but he didn't understand those feelings so he just labeled them as things close friends do never stopping to think that most friends don't act like he and Eddie do. It does make me wonder if Buck will realize his feelings for Eddie are more than friendship first but doesn't want to risk losing Eddie, and Christopher tries to get over his romantic feelings for Eddie. Around the same time, Eddie is coming to terms with the fact that he is not straight and trying to figure out why Buck dating Tommy bothers him so much. We are heading towards the Buddie pining era.
Since 7.04 aired I’ve been very firm in my belief that Buck is confused about his feelings. I think his talk with Maddie kinda confused him further and he thought his feelings were about Tommy when it’s always been about Eddie. I mean he mentioned Eddie throughout the entire episode and even said his name like 8??? Times before their kiss. And with Oliver confirming what we’ve all been speculating for years now, a lot of his behavior with and towards Eddie makes so much more sense to me. Like when he didn’t outright deny his boy crush on Eddie, and him immediately thinking Maddie was talking about Eddie when she said “he’s cute”. Then we have moments like him losing it and digging for Eddie with his bare hands then breaking down at the idea of losing Eddie. And when Eddie got shot in front of him and how he was not ok in the least bit. I also think a part of Buck was excited bc he really did think Eddie was taking him out on a date for poker night. So it makes me wonder if he did have an attraction to Eddie that slowly developed into more that he just hasn’t allowed himself to fully acknowledge and embrace. I’m under the impression that it is very possible to subconsciously love someone without your brain catching on to that fact. So I think his heart knows he’s always had feelings for Eddie but his brain hasn’t caught onto that.
Which brings me to my next thought. Yes he’s with Tommy right now and we all know Tommy is definitely a plot device of some sort. We never Oliver not mention twice that Tommy is going to help him through this journey a bit and kinda implied they’re gonna be friends, where Tommy’s seen as a mentor of some sort. Now that, to me, doesn’t indicate big love interest at all. So I can see how in the few upcoming episodes, maybe Buck will realize some things that he hasn’t allowed himself to realize. Because I do believe there is a big risk in acknowledging his feelings for Eddie. And there lies that risk of, ok what happens if I do have feelings. What happens to what I already have with him and Christopher? And does he want things to be different bc surely they will be different. So maybe part of Buck doesn’t want to acknowledge that bc he truly doesn’t think there will ever be a moment in which those feelings are reciprocated. So why even bother you know?
But if we do have Eddie questioning everything he’s ever known and repressed, then things get a bit more interesting. It can start off small like Eddie having some feelings about seeing Buck and Tommy together and not liking what he feels. Maybe he’s bothered and jealous and that gets him confused as well. Then there’s the nun of it all bc why is he still with this woman he barely knows and feels nothing for? I could possibly see him questioning things about himself and coming to terms with the fact that he’s not a commitmentphobe bc he’s been committing to Buck since the beginning. I could totally see a pining situation that goes both ways with neither man realizing their feelings reciprocated and neither man wanting to risk what they already have. So I feel like things are being set up so well that we can take next season to really explore their feelings and one or both take that leap of faith to make their feelings known.
But in true 911 fashion, I can totally see another near death experience being the thing that really pushes them to confess lol. Like not a death bed confession. But something that scares them both enough to fucking finally talk to each other about everything they’ve been feeling for a while now. And that talk can very well happen in one of their kitchens which the heart of every home. And bam, we get Buddie finally together!
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cjrights · 23 hours
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Ight then here we go. And dw I promise I’m not feral like aloras anons. (Btw I made this while eating Mac n cheese at like 10:30 at night).
This could be really bad so read at your own risk (I’ve never written x reader)
Paige Bueckers x Softball! Player reader! (Hcs)
Content: mentions of an injury/description of one happening, Overall just fluffy stuff.
This is my first time ever writing something like this (pls don’t make fun of me 😭 I’ll cry and probably never log back in)
Starting off with a little about yourself:
-You’ve played softball for quite a while (obviously your good if you’ve gotten to UConn) around 14 years
-You’re a catcher- and a damned good one at that. You catch for just about anyone if needed and play quite a bit.
-One thing your most renowned for are your speed and base running abilities. Very few times is someone better or faster than you on base.
-however you are on the smaller side, barely 5’4 (you give yourself an extra inch though). Many players thought your height would impede your abilities and that you were too small to be a catcher.
-but your basically the ballsiest player in the league and hate losing so you don’t go down without a fight.
Ok now that we know about you let’s get into Paige.
1. Prior to the season she likes helping you clean your bag and gear out.
“Babeeee look what I have.”
You look up briefly confused, only to burst into giggles at the sight of Paige in your catchers gear. It obviously didn’t fit- not surprising with you at 5’5 and her at 6’. The white shinguards barely reached 3/4s down her legs and the chest guard left half of her exposed.
“Paige, why are you trying on my gear?” You ask over your shoulder, turning back into your bag to grab your batting gloves and helmet out.
“I gotta make sure my girls safe!” She protested, desperately trying to put on the to small helmet. “Can’t have you getting hurt! And why’s this helmet so small?!”
“Probably cause you’ve got a big head.”
“Who wouldn’t have a big head dating someone as sexy and skilled as you,” she smirks, lightly kissing your neck as your crouched over the bat bag.
“Well I suppose I am quite skilled and sexy…” you agree lifting your head so she can kiss more easily.
“And all mine.”
“And all yours.” You agree happily. “And yours alone. Now back to work bucko!” You state lightly patting her on the chest and nudging her off kisses. “No time for that now.”
Paige resumes trying to put on the helmet, still struggling immensely, as you go through the pockets of your bag. You snicker at her troubles with the helmet, before grabbing it and sticking it on your own head. “I’ll be fine.”
“But what if-“ fine then Paige, you thought. Guess I’ve got no other choice…
She’s abruptly cut off by you smacking your helmeted head into a wall lightly then staring at her, entirely unmoved by the feel of it. The noise of it had been stronger than whatever pain it had caused. She stands there shocked for a moment, staring at you gobsmacked before reluculantly starting to take off the gear.
“Ok fine. You’re safe in this I suppose.”
You turned away from the blonde and resumed your sorting, now satisfied.
“Erm babe? could you help me out? I think I’m stuck.”
2. Her trying to carry your bag and failing miserably.
“Why the hell do you have a body bag?!” Had been her first reaction to it, which admittedly may have been justified.
But you couldn’t help it! All catchers needed a bag this big…even if it was almost your size. But with cleats, bats, gloves, your gear and everything else you needed a bag like this was a must. Even if it was probably twice your body weight.
You just shrugged and said catchers always had big bags, then started dragging it off to the UConn fields.
Now you were getting ready to board the bus for an away game in Ohio and you’d just unpacked the car. Azzi had came along to see you off alongside of Paige. You went to grab your bag, only to have Paige abruptly get in the way.
“Allow me m’lady,” she mimics, grabbing the bag handle before you can stop her.
“Baby, I love you, but you know damn well you’ll drop that.” It was true, she’d tried multiple times, and crushed multiple toes.
“No! I’m big and strong and perfectly capable of lifting my girlfriend’s bag!” She huffs and chuffs determinedly, as she drags it towards the bus, carefully lifting it up into the open back door.
Your teammates give her half weirded out-half amused look, not quite sure if they should intervene or let her learn the hard way.
Even Azzi rolls her eyes and sighs, “should we stop her before she tears another ACL?”
You sigh, Paige was one stubborn motherfucker, as much as you loved her. “Maybe that’s how she’ll finally learn not to lift a catchers bag without help.”
After a long time, filled with much painful wheezing and a red faced girlfriend she manages to get it on the bus. “See…” she wheezes, “I can so lift your bag!”
You laugh and walk over to her, stretching up on your tiptoes to kiss her lips, which she eagerly accepts gently cradling the back of your head.
“My hero,” you tease, resting your forehead against hers, relishing in the warmth of her ice blue gaze.
3. She sees you get trucked defending the plate for the first time and almost has a heart attack.
It started off as a simple play and should’ve remained simple. Then you blew it and missed the block on a wild pitch. The runner on third saw her opportunity and took it.
Thankfully you’d been quicker on your feet than the pitcher and grabbed the ball guarding the plate from the incoming runner. Normally a base runner would get tagged out on a run, or try to veer away at the last moment.
But not the Alabama girl. Nope, she’d already known you were on the smaller side- and that you never backed down. So she did the only sensible thing.
She lowered her shoulder and smashed into you at a full sprint. To your credit you got the tag and kept on your feet, just staggering slightly from the impact. What you weren’t expecting for the lights to go out a few seconds after she collided.
You didn’t remember what happened after that, next thing you knew, three coaches, the athletic trainer, and about nine concerned teammates had formed a protective barrier around you, as if they were animals guarding a hurt cub.
According to your pitcher, the Bama girls helmet had smacked with yours and with the combined effort from the rest of her body, knocked you out. Thankfully it was only for a half minute or so, and nothing was that badly hurt.
you were fine apart from having the wind knocked out of you and a thorough bit of bruising on your shoulders, chest, hips, and neck. The whole incident hadn’t even phased you that badly and after a quick test run, you were cleared to resume catching and hit a double the next inning, directly over the Bama players head, as though to say it would take more then that to bring you down.
Turns out the one more affected was your blonde girlfriend who was sitting in the bleachers
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“What the fuck was that!” The blonde all but screamed at the top of her lungs, unaware of the looks fans from both sides were giving her.
A dad who was sitting next to her gave her a look before chuckling. “That’s called trucking the catcher. Don’t worry though, she’s a tough little thing, she’ll get back up fine in a few seconds.
Paige shot him a look before glaring at the back of the Bama girls helmet, about ready to go out and beat her up herself.
“It’s called downright bad sportsmanship and dangerous! I mean she could’ve been hurt!” Her anxiety fueled the anger she was feeling, especially after seeing you wobble before your body passed out. Had it not been so crowded she would’ve been on the field herself.
The dad glanced over at her. “Seems like you care quite a bit about this catcher.”
“M’course I do. She’s my girlfriend, my baby, and it’s my job to protect her.”
He nods in understanding, glad the blonde was a bit calmer. “Don’t worry about it, she’s tough as nails. Look she’s already up again.”
She looked down and true to his word you were standing on slightly wobbly legs and doing an experimental squat to see how badly the girl had damaged you.
A breathe she didn’t know she’d been holding escaped, “thank god…” she whispered, not taking her eyes off you.
Now with you alright and her new softball dad friend she could watch the game (albeit she still growled under her breathe when the Bama girl came out). She was ready to spoil you rotten by the end of the game.
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“Baby, I appreciate the gesture but you don’t need to worry this much…that happens quite a lot.”
“Nope! My baby deserves all the spoiling tonight.” She stated walking in with a freshly microwaved heating pad, full bottle of water, ibuprofen, and some chocolate. “Now come on movie time.”
You couldn’t resist smiling as she climbed into bed beside you, gently draping you over her lap.
“I’m getting thrown out for starting a fist fight the next time you play Bama.” Paige mutteres suddenly.
“Paige Madison! You will not!”
“Yes I will, that stupid shortstop deserves it!”
You roll your eyes, your girlfriend was sweet, but overprotective like a damned pitbull.
“No Paigey, no fighting.”
“Fine….”
You end up dozing off before her, but not before feeling her planting gentle “feel better kisses” over every one of your bruises. And that’s why you fall asleep smiling.
Enjoy! (Also I have many more of these if wanted)
-🦦
hi this is SO cute???? i love????
you did this so well im gagged asf
more more more
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patrickztump · 2 months
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🍮🌸🍇!
I’m not gonna reblog the ask post myself so I will just share anyway: my first sims game was I think it was called sims social, on Facebook in like 2011, but it’s gba bustin’ out that I really look back on fondly! I’ve played sims 4 too, but theres so much stuff part of it now even since 2018 I’d get lost. I liked listening to James Turner narrating his build videos more than I had actual fun playing it I think. I find it’s the sort of game you need an entire week clear to do nothing else in to really get into it!
i used to watch james turner alllll the time!! haven't in a couple years, because i got caught up in lil simsie's videos and found them a nice length. also watched kelsey impicciche when she was doing the 100 baby challenge with buzzfeed, the most recent simmers i watch on occasion are caryn and connie – mainly because they remind me sooo much of the twins from unsellable houses on hgtv lol
anyways, the questions <3
🍮 Favorite thing to do in the sims? (Could literally be anything!) building! i love, love, love, love building! i rarely play the game at this point lol i just spend so much time building. since finishing my desk, i hope to bring up and extra monitor we have and use playstation with it so i can comfortably use a mouse and keyboard. that way i can use all the packs i have vs mainly basegame (computer sims).
🌸 What's your earliest memory of playing the sims? + 🍇 What was your first sims game? i'm lumping these two together because like i said, i'm still fairly new to the game, have only been playing for five years now. but my first sims game is the sims 4, also my only.
earliest memory was when i first got it christmas 2018, i had no clue how anything worked and my house that i built was... awful. to say the least. my brother refers to it as "the prison house" because i didn't know how to even change the walls from drywall and floor from concrete lmao
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pastadoughie · 2 months
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many people were confused about some of my previous posts, so for the sake of clarity i am condensing everything! tumblr has extremely transphobic moderation practices, often flagging completely innocent posts as explicit, solely for containing trans women in them or mentioning transgenderism. while letting untagged porn in sfw tags (ive literally seen porn tagged as "sfw agere") and blatent hatespeech, especially twards trans people (just look at the "gender critical" tag) go completely unchecked recently the CEO of tumblr had a big public hissyfit about people (rightfully) calling him transmysogenistic, going into random trans womens dms to harrass them, and saying that predstrogen saying she "hopes he explodes with hammers and then explodes again and hammers fly everywhere" is a death threat and saying he is calling the FBI on her (repeatedly misgendering her and calling her "it") and many bloggers, apon speaking out about it or even making harmless jokes (one trans woman posted a picture of a car and a hammer with the caption "reblog to scare matt" and got nuked for it) and many are very very angry (rightfully) about this whole affair and tumblr in general. if you would like to look into it i reccomend scrolling the "predstrogen" tag as she is the case most people are talking about at the moment. So, what can we do? this is clearly an ongoing issue, and, dispite having lost a lawsuit about their transphobic moderation in the past (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement) its clearly not gonna stop with just user complaints, as staff members are perfectly content to just go scorched earth on users who even so much as lightly poke fun at them well if you want to help you should contact the human rights commision (i will give clear details further down) ! you dont have to be in the US, nor be an adult to file, and it only takes a few minutes. this is the best and most effective method to fix this, because it hits tumblr where it hurts. human rights acencies have a lot of legal and financial power and tumblr CAN NOT just ignore them, and given that this will be the seccond time this is happening, the commisions shouldnt be playing nice anymore eaither. its really important that AS MANY PEOPLE AS POSSIBLE FILE, and with different examples! while maybe your case might not be enough to prop up a lawsuit on its own, we need to prove a general trend. so every little bit counts! to respond to another question abt this ive gotten, as for what exactly to report, you should a) write about an act of discrimination youve recieved on tumblr that was eaither administered by a staff member OR that staff refused to give adequate moderation action in for example : a terf posted some blatent hatespeech targeted twards you, and you reported them, and staff looked at the issue and refused to persecute it. example 2 : you were unfairly flagged, deleted, or otherwise punished by a staff member and you are queer ( AND the post they banned you for has some kind of tie to your gender, ex : a sfw transition progress photo ) OR b) if you have not personally recieved something like that, please look for other peoples stories (THEY SHOULDNT BE HARD TO FIND, within the last couple of hours trans people have been being banned LEFT AND RIGHT for trying to speak on this. i would reccomend checking some of the tags related to what happened with predstrogen) and you should describe that incident as best as possible (be sure to disclose that you are speaking for someone else, ideally you should tell the story of someone you know, if possible.) you can also mention any reports you have made twards people posting blatent hatespeech that, opon reveiwing tumblr refused to prosecute dispite it being very obviously against terms of service. just so nobody gets confused about the filing process, im laying it out in more plain languadge!!
first you should email the SF HRC (san francisco human rights commision), at [email protected] and say something along these lines :
Hello, I am [full name] from [country or state] and I am filing a complaint against Tumblr, witch is owned by the parent company Automattic Inc. located at 60 29th St, San Francisco, CA 94110.
Tumblr has had previous issues with the NYC DHR for their moderation being unfairly biased against trans women (see : https://www.documentcloud.org/documents/21274288-tumblr-nycchr-settlement).
Despite a legally binding agreement with the NYC DHR, staff members still regularly harrass users based on their gender or sexual orientations. For example : on [date of most recent infraction] [describe incident] (if you are describing an incident that did not happen to you specifically, say something like) This incident involves the user [username] who I am not affiliated with (or/) who I am filing on behalf of.
I can be reached for further inquiries about this incident at [email you want to talk over] or [phone number you want to talk over]. (if you would like to be anonymous) However, In the event of legal prosecution against Automattic I would refer to be kept anonymous, where possible, in court proceedings. alternatively, you can also call the SF HRC at : 415-252-2500, you can use the above text as a starting point for this as well, next you want to fill out the form for the NYC DHR (new york city department of human rights) here : https://www.nyc.gov/site/cchr/about/report-discrimination.page for company you wanna put : Automattic and/or Tumblr for address you wanna put : 770 Broadway, New York, NY 10003 for phone number you wanna put : (646) 513-4321 and for category of discrimination you can put : Discriminatory harassment and basis of discrimination you can put : Gender; Gender identity you can then use a similar script on the written section of the form. when describing a specific incident, you should attach as many screenshots and links as possible! (for links, include both a live link and an archival link, so take a capture with the internet archive and have that as an alternative, incase a staff member gets petty.) this should only take a few minutes at most, and it helps alot! you can fill this out if you are a minor, and you dont have to be a us resident, please please take the time!!! and, just to clarify because there are many posts going around that are confused about this tumblr moved offices to san francisco recently, so their main HQ is at : 60 29th St, San Francisco, CA 94110 they DO still have an office in new york city, and thats where their PREVIOUS HQ was, the address is : 770 Broadway, New York, NY 10003
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angelltheninth · 4 months
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Hazbin Hotel Characters Kink Levels
Pairing: Charlie, Vaggie, Alastor, Angel Dust, Husk, Niffty, Valentino, Vox x Reader
Tags: nsfw, smut, lots of kinks mentioned but not very detailed
A/N: Hazbin brainrot has fully set in. I'm watching the first two eps tomorrow so there will be spoikers on my blog but they will be tagged.
Charlie is slightly kinky, open to trying things but has hard limits at rougher treatment. Probably could be into being told what to do since she doesn't use her own authority much. I also feel like she's really into lingerie, she wants to look and feel pretty and wouldn't want to take anything off unless she has to.
Vaggie could be into some rougher things like hair-pulling, dominance and maybe even painplay but she'd also have a huge, huge praise kink that goes both ways. She gives me big strap-on energy so her being into watching it go in and out of you while she talks dirty would be a huge turn on for her.
Alastor could be kinky but he wouldn't think it's a kink. Like he could be into fear play a lot but not realize why it feels so damn good when he makes you tremble or why he enjoys it when you moan when he bites you and licks your blood away before he kisses you. All it matters is that he's having fun with you.
Angel Dust will gladly try any kink under the sun. There are few people more kinky then he is or more willing to tell you what his kinks are on the first date. He wants you to know exactly what he likes, how much he'd like to be worshiped for once, how he enjoys edging you and then swallowing every bit of your cum before it gets into his floof.
Husk isn't very kinky actually. Not that he won't try he just doesn't care about kinks that much. Degradation comes naturally for him so he doesn't mind you asking for more of it outside of the bedroom. Would get super protective of you though so marking you with bites and rubbing his cheeks on you would make him really happy.
Niffty is probably the kinkiest of them all. Seriously I feel like she's into super hardcore shit because have you seen her? There's no way she's any type of vanilla. She'd stab you and love you to ask for more, she'd probably enjoy being stabbed. Also maybe into CNC cause she seems like the type who likes to do the chasing and is secretly very assertive.
Valentino has a whole encyclopedia of kinks in his head all day every day. Name it and he tried it, or filmed it and wants to try it. Needless to say he's into rough play, handcuffs and degradation but I also feel like he'd be into having his cock worshipped and be into fucking in public, as in fucking you in front of those in the porn studio to let them know you're his.
Vox has an ego so he'd be into being praised a lot but he's the type who keeps his kinks to himself and his lover. He'd only reveal them too you and won't get kinky in public, only flirty. One of his favorite things though would be cockwarming because he has to spend a lot of time in his studio.
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yeollie-plz · 5 months
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Fill
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Miguel O’Hara x F! Reader
Synopsis: You babysit Mayday, it puts thoughts into Miguel’s head.
Genre: smut!
Warnings: smut, 18+, breeding kink, unprotected sex, pregnancy kink, p in v sex, kissing, biting, fingering, choking, spanking, daddy kink slipped in there at the end
Gif credits to owners!
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Miguel was expecting to come home to his beautiful wife, eat some food, maybe make love to her, and bask in each other’s warmth until they fell asleep. What he sure didn’t expect was to come home to said wife babysitting Mayday for Peter. You might have forgotten to mention to Miguel that you were babysitting tonight.
Honestly, you didn’t mention it because you didn’t want him to say no and Peter and MJ really needed the night out. No baby. So now you and your husband were going to have a night in. With a baby.
To say Miguel wasn’t thrilled would be an understatement. He was borderline angry with you at the “slip” of your mind. It’s not like Miguel hated Mayday in any aspect but the thought of you holding a baby brought up strange feelings inside of him.
He had tried for the year that Mayday has been around to try and push those feelings down. But every time he saw you even glance at the baby had him all in a fit. Miguel didn’t think he’d ever be ready for a child again, but seeing you so motherly was changing his mind.
I mean, he didn’t think he’d ever want to get married again and there you were changing his plans.
You two have had the baby talk before, as well. You were always so understanding of his past and never pushed him too far. But he did notice the disappointment on your face when he had said he never wanted kids.
Never? Why had he said never? It was such a harsh conclusion and in recent months, it was one he was regretting making.
He could imagine you now, belly full of his seed, a prominent bump showing what the two of you had made.
Shit. He needed to get those images out of his or he wouldn’t be able to hold back.
Shaking his head Miguel retreated to the kitchen, leaving you to continue to play with the baby uninterrupted. Busying himself with looking through the cabinets, like he wanted to cook something.
“Miggy?” You questioned as you entered the kitchen, Mayday perched on your hip. He turned and took in the sight, imagining what a mini you would look like. He sighed.
“Did you want me to make you something to eat?” You were trying to read the look on his face.
“No.” He grumbled and pushed pass you and into the living room.
“Miguel, I know you’re mad that I didn’t tell you. But it was an honest mistake. Plus, you know I love Mayday and since we-“
“Don’t.” He cut you off. Your mouth snapped closed at what you were about to say. Before you could apologize Miguel made his way to the bedroom, slamming the door closed behind him. You blinked in shock, you didn’t want to start a fight in front of poor little Mayday. This would have to be brought up later.
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It was nearing the time that Peter was supposed to arrive to pickup Mayday. You were a bit sad to say goodbye to her but you were also exhausted. Suddenly, you understood why Peter didn’t even change out of his pajamas most days. Especially with a spider baby!
She stuck to everything! And being someone without powers, your knowledge on the matter wasn’t very strong. Sure, you knew a lot about Miguel’s powers but he was what…Spider-Man number 30 out of 1 million? You wished you could ask Miguel for some help.
Eventually you figured out the best way to unstick Mayday was to distract her. Show her a toy, play peekaboo, maybe give her snack. Anything to keep her hands busy and off your ceiling. You hadn’t heard Miguel much through the night. You figured he had gone to sleep or was silently doing some work.
When you agreed to watch Mayday, you hoped the two of you would be able to do this as a team. But obviously, that thought was all wrong.
Peter came about 30 minutes later, knocking on your door. Miguel heard the door open, a few words being exchanged, and a rush of thank yous as the door shut once again. In a few quick steps you were moving across the house and throwing open the bedroom door. Miguel’s wife was not happy.
“Really Miggy? Slamming my doors now?” Usually the tone of her voice would make Miguel instantly apologize but he was too wound up to care.
“Yes I’m slamming our doors!” His voice was slightly raised as he gave a lackluster response, cringing at himself.
“All this and because I decided to help Peter out! You know they never get to go out. We are their friends Miguel, we should be helping them out!”
“I don’t mind helping out our friends, but this favor…I just.” He groans, running his face across his face and through his hair. His usually tight posture, slumping in exasperation.
“What Miggy? What is so aggravating about that little baby?” Your hands were on your hips, face turning red with your increasing anger. He was not going to get away with throwing this tantrum.
“It’s not the baby that is aggravating! It’s me seeing you with the baby!” His eyes soften as he admits the truth.
You were shocked, not understanding the meaning behind his words, “I’m the aggravating one?”
“No! Mi amor, it’s how I can’t get the thought of you round and pregnant out of my mind. The image of you running around chasing a child that we created. I thought after everything that I would never want that again but…”
It finally clicks, “You’re mad we don’t have a baby!”
“I’m mad I’m not inside you right now putting a baby in you” His eyes darken and rake across your form.
He crosses the room in three long strides, wrapping his arm around your waist pulling your body into his. His lips ghost along your neck, his hot breath creating goosebumps on your skin.
His mouth reaching your ear, whispering, “Do you want that? Want me to get you pregnant, baby?”
You can only whimper in response, which eggs Miguel on further, finally connecting his lips to yours. Desperation coats the kiss as he basically devours you.
He nips at your lower lip, pulling away. Looking down at you he takes a step back, your body reacts instinctively and tries to close the distance again. He stops you by cupping your clothed core. A strangled noise passes your lips as he uses his other hand to pull your dress over your head.
“Mmm, wore this like you knew I’d want easy access. Always so eager for this cock, hm?” His deep voice and words cause you to get even wetter.
The hand on your core moves a bit to tease you. He feels your wetness, moaning in satisfaction.
“I might not even need to prep you, baby. Wanna breed you like you weren’t meant to be bred.”
His hand grips your neck leading you towards the bed. The hand now makes it way behind your neck and brings your lips to his once again. The force causes you to moan.
“Why don’t you get on all fours for me?” He says it like a question, but you know it’s a command.
You do as you were told and get onto the bed on your hands and knees. You let your knees naturally rest a bit apart, knowing that he will just adjust you if he needs it. A hand runs down your spine, sending a shiver down with it. It reaches your ass and gives a squeeze before landing a firm smack there. Suddenly you hear a rip and feel your wet core exposed to the cool air. You glance down realizing that he had torn off your underwear.
You gasp, “Miggy!” Usually you would’ve found this extremely hot, if those weren’t your favorite panties!
“I’ll buy you new ones. Besides until you’re pregnant you’re not leaving this bed. You won’t be needing panties for a while.” Okay, now it’s hot again.
He doesn’t wait for you to respond and inserts a finger inside of you. He pumps the finger in and out quickly, testing how wet you are.
“Already all wet and ready for me. Just how I like you.”
Quickly, he pulls the finger out and before you can even protest at the loss he pushes his dick fully inside of you to the hilt. Another gasp passes your lips at the intrusion. He gives you no time to adjust before setting a pace, ravaging your body with his thick cock.
He continues his assault, pushing deep inside of you before pulling out almost completely and repeating the action. The force of his thrusts are making it hard for you to think, let alone hold yourself up. But when you start to fall to your elbows, his hand is quickly wrapped around your throat holding you up.
“Have you at the perfect angle, can feel all of you.” Is all he says as his fingers tighten on your throat. Your vision goes black from the intense pleasure.
He fucks into you harder as the pressure of his fingers releases slowly, letting some air back into your lungs. When you have enough air, you are moaning out as a particular thrust hits the perfect spot.
“Miggy please, need you to make me cum. Need your cum in me.”
His large body incapsulates yours at your confession. The hand that was on your throat makes it way down to your clit, rubbing circles into it. His teeth bite down into your shoulder, sending a shock of pleasure through you as you cum hard onto his cock.
The clenching of your orgasm causes him to groan and falter a bit, before he regains his head and pace.
“Mmm, gonna cum in you baby. Gonna make you a mommy.” He says as he shoots his seed into your awaiting womb. His orgasm seems longer and stronger than usual as he bites your shoulder once again.
After he recovers, he releases your throat, letting you fall into the plush sheets. Miguel slides out of you and pulls your body into his. He rubs your back in slow circles, calming you both down.
Eventually you speak up, “So what do you think? Think it worked, daddy?” Lust drips from your voice at the name.
“Fuck, maybe, and even if it didn’t I’m ready to go again. Just want you so full of my cum that you can feel it with every breath.”
And fill you he did.
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wonryllis · 4 days
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the hot dad next door (m) | park sunghoon.
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﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘁 𝗱𝗮𝗱 𝗻𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗱𝗼𝗼𝗿 𝘄𝗮𝗻𝘁𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂?
preview. the ever quintessential first time dad moves in next door with his five year old and finds it impossible not to fall for you, the pretty girl who gives his daughter cookies and him; the doll eyes. obsessed with your entire being, unable to keep his hands off you, park sunghoon questions if he's just crazy or he's crazy over you.
or where, he notices the way you look at his hands a little too long for it to be innocent.
meet the cast. single dad!park sunghoon with his pretty neighbour fem!reader.
genre. DILFF AUU !!, SMUT MDNI, fluff, neighbours to lovers, sunghoon is quite literally yes insanely crazed over you and for the sake of god can't keep his dick soft, domestic a little bit i guess, i want to make her my wife trope EEEKKK, slight age gap (hoon in late twenties and reader in early twenties) more to be added.
word count. est around 10k or more
warnings. inaccuracies about parenting cause i aint a parent, i got no idea. more will be mentioned in the actual post.
releasing. very soon!! .. progress update tag
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park sunghoon was hot, he was a walking greek god. was single and wore these fitted suits that had you weak in the knees. if that wasn't hot enough, park sunghoon also had the cutest baby girl you had ever come across and it just made him hotter than he could ever have been.
"hey, um .. is ji—" sunghoon stands at the threshold of your open apartment door, one hand holding his creased blazer and the other rubbing at the back of his neck. embarrassed and shy at having to show up at yours looking like a mess after work because his daughter ran off while he was busy on a call and taking out her school bag from the backseat. and because everytime his daughter ran off, it was to the pretty girl next door who gives away sweet cookies all the time.
"is jia here? yeah she's in the kitchen," you answer, smiling soft and knowingly at the worried guy who barely looked like a dad. he worked in a corporate editorial, out before eight in the morning just as you prepared ingredients for your bakery. taking his daughter along to school, her excited voice resonating through the halls talking about how they were going to play with clay in class. around seven in the evening you'd hear her again, this time alone as she would skip over to your door because dada was too slow.
on weekends it'd be impossible to ignore the ruckus they made playing around, sometimes inviting you over for lunch because sunghoon apparently made too much and jia wanted to share her dada's delicious food. on some occasional weekends when he'd be called in to work for a few hours, jia would promise him to stay home and behave only to call you through the landline the moment he'd step out the door. and you would text sunghoon to come over to yours after work, his daughter munching on the new flavored cupcakes you made, unbothered about her dad and his scoldings.
"come on in, i made some almond lime tart, you could give me some feedbacks along with jia. you know she always says it's good and i can never know if it's actually good," sunghoon can't help but chuckle at that, slipping off his shoes by the front and walking inside. his eyes following your figure with a fond look as you tend to his daughter delicately, and might he admit— even more so than him.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids; cue that one time jia was crying her eyes out after school and he had no idea what to do to comfort her, knocking at your door frantically and having his mind blown at how quickly you figured things out and calmed her down.
you're sweet, you know how to handle kids, you treat them both so well, always ready to help him out with jia, giving them sweet treats every other day and most of all— you're fucking pretty. way too pretty for him to handle.
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taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @shawnyle @enhastolemyheart @belowbun @aaa-sia @niniissus @tobiosbbyghorl @imjakes-wifeofc1 @youresolivlie @eun-cherry @kimsunoops @aiden2001 @brownsugarbaybee @pockettwinzz @bangtancultsposts @diorikis @heelvsted @crimnalseung @iselltulips @yzzyhee @woniebae @river-demon-slayer @lovingvoidgoatee @antonsgirlfriend @kpopslover @bugcattie @slut4hee @yunjinswifee @woniefull @nanaheex @soobs-things @dammit-jjk @starlvcieszsq @mnxnii @skylaly @mintdsunoo @uyuchoco @anittamaxwynnn @rikiwaify-blog @kill4jl @ggparkjh @sstephenzz @judeduartewannabe @jungwoneez @aye2611-blog @hybeboyenthusisast @minjaexvz
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xxbimbobunnyxx · 8 months
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Cat and Mouse
(Perv!Eddie Munson x Perv!Fem Reader)
Summary: Eddie thinks you are innocent and oblivious to all the pervy things he does behind your back, but what he doesn’t know is that you’re fully aware. Not only that, but you like it, and you just might be a bit of a perv yourself. WK: 8k (idk what happened)
Warnings: Where do I even begin? This is filthy guys… Panty stealing, honestly just Eddie and Reader both taking things of each others without asking (and using them to pleasure themselves), Maybe a tiny bit of angst? Idk there’s like a second where they’re both doubting themselves but it’s solved quickly. SMUTTTT!!! Unprotected P in V, Oral (M and F receiving), overstimulation(on R), hair pulling, slightly sub!Eddie? Idk he’s just really down bad(but so is R), dirty talk but like dirty dirty. Idk what to tell y’all they’re pervs, they’re gross, this is feral. If I missed anything pls lmk!! 18+MNDI!!
A/N: Listen… idk what came over me with this one… a horny demon possessed me and wrote this.. It was fueled by my feral period brain and all the perv Eddie fics I’ve seen where Reader is innocent, which is still very hot and I love it but I’m a whore so I wanted to write something where maybe she wasn’t as innocent as Eddie thought. That’s it, that’s all I have to say, pls enjoy the filth. 😌 (also shout out to @take-everything-you-can for mentioning something about taking Eddie’s shirt, I kind of took that idea and ran a mile with it.) My Masterlist
You met Eddie a few months ago, you were working at your uncle’s comic book shop when he came in looking for some dice. He came in a few more times after that, always needing something for his campaign, or looking for a comic for one of his younger friends he told you about. He would always stay and talk to you for a while, telling you things about his life, asking about yours. Eventually he asked you if you wanted to come to one of his shows and the two of you had basically been inseparable since.
You hadn’t known him long but it didn’t take long for you to pick up on a few things. Like how his eyes would always linger on your thighs when you’d cross them on his bed in your little ruffly skirts, or how they looked like they were going to pop out of his head when he noticed you hardly ever wear a bra. You noticed he always talked to you in this way that made you seem so innocent and pure, untouched. You weren’t, but noticed he liked it, so you played into it.
You started to notice things going missing, a pair of underwear that didn’t quite make it in the dirty clothes basket, a tester vile of your perfume you had left over from before you decided it was worth buying the whole bottle, a picture of you from your stack of polaroids that was of you at the beach in your little red bikini.
So you started leaving things. Your dirty underwear on display, always at the very top of your laundry basket. A nearly empty bottle of your favorite lotion sitting next to the trash, ready to be thrown out. A picture of your tits with your forearm just barely covering your nipples at the top of the stack of Polaroids.
Each time they would be gone, and you weren’t sure at this point if he was just playing along or if he was the one that was really that naive.
The first time Eddie saw you he was convinced you were an angel. Standing behind the counter at the comic shop downtown in your little white sweater and pink skirt. When he walked up to look at the dice in the glass underneath the register he could see your white thigh high socks. You had this cute ribbon in your hair and when you spoke your voice sounded like sugarcane. You asked him if there where any sets that stood out to him, and then you surprised the hell out of him by asking if they were for D&D. You had never played, but your cousins and your uncle did, so you knew the basics.
He couldn’t stop himself from coming in after that, finding any excuse to make a trip to see his favorite girl. Maybe he would decide he needed a new mini for an NPC or offer to go get a new release of a comic for Dustin while he was at school. He always spent a while standing there talking to you, getting to know you, ogling you because he just couldn’t help himself. How could he? When you would lean over the counter giving him a perfect view of your tits through your thin shirts and hardly ever wore a bra? When you would ask him to hold the ladder steady so you could get something up high and he would get a perfect view up your skirt of whatever panties you wore that day? You were irresistible.
He learned that you weren’t only beautiful but actually really cool. You knew a lot about comics, you had read Tolkien, you loved horror movies possibly more than he did, and you were down to give any music a chance.
You also had this innocence about you, like you almost didn’t realize how much he wanted you. It just made him want you more. You’d look at him with those big round eyes and pouty lips whenever he would tease you about something. When he would compliment you outright you always made this little squeaky noise and he would notice you squirm or press your thighs together.
But once you started hanging out with him outside of work that’s when he really lost control. The first time he was at your house he saw a pair of your panties next to your laundry basket. Clearly dirty by the way he could see your juices left behind on the crotch of them. You were in the bathroom changing and he just couldn’t resist. He picked them up off the ground and held them up to his nose, inhaling your scent. He felt slightly sick but he had already gone this far so he figured he might as well just have a little taste. He licked the patch where your pussy was, and even though they had mostly dried you still tasted divine. His head spun and his cock hardened as he imagined what you would really taste like. He heard the bathroom door across the hall creak open so he quickly shoved the panties into his back pocket and sat down on your bed, one leg bent at the knee crossed over the other to try and hide the very prominent bulge in his pants.
Then there was the time you had to run down to the mailboxes to check your mail, he already had been subtly staring at the small vial of your perfume after you proudly announced to him that you decided it was your signature scent now, showing him the larger bottle. He figured you wouldn’t need the small one anymore, it was almost gone anyways. So he did what he’s been finding himself doing more and more often when he’s in your room, he pocketed it. That night he sprayed it on his pillow, holding it to his face while he had your panties wrapped around his cock. Bucking into his hand with reckless abandon, imaging what yours might feel like instead.
Then there was the day he was at your apartment before you were supposed to meet up with some of his friends for a movie night and you wanted to shower after work. He was bored, snooping around a little like he usually does when he gets a moment alone in your room, and he came across a stack of Polaroids. His heart warmed when the top one was a photo of you and him at a metal show you went to with him and the guys a few towns away.
You were always surprising him and that night was no exception, banging your head until your little ribbon was about to fall out of your hair. He fixed it for you, of course. He kept looking through the stack of photos, seeing images of you and your friends back home, some of you and your cousins, and tons of you here in Hawkins. Mostly of you and him, some with his friends that were now yours too. But when he got almost to the bottom of the stack he saw a photo of you and your friends at the beach, all smiling wide at the camera. He could only see your neck and shoulders but he could tell you were wearing a little red bikini of some kind. He eagerly flipped to the next photo, hoping there might be one that proved him right, and he was not disappointed.
This picture was just you, laying on the beach with your legs outstretched in front of you, your hands were buried in the sand and just like he thought you were wearing a bright red bikini.
The way you were leaning back on your hands was making your chest stick out and the way one of your legs was slightly bent made it so he could just see the curve of your ass from the side. Your skin glistened with what he assumed was a mixture of sunscreen and sweat and he wanted to lick it off. Your eyes were adorned with heart shaped sunglasses that matched the red of your swimsuit and if he looked close enough he could tell even your toes matched.
He felt his cock harden immediately, licking his lips at the sight. Without even really thinking he shoved the photo in the back pocket of his jeans, hoping you wouldn’t notice it missing.
You tempted him twice that day, it was just too easy when you threw your clothes on top of the basket after your shower and walked into the kitchen to get a snack. Your panties were directly on top, the crotch side up, and he could see a fresh wet patch there. He couldn’t help it, he pocketed them and excused himself to the bathroom, running his tongue along the cloth where your juices had collected. His eyes rolled in the back of his head and he felt like he was going to pass out. It only took a few tugs of his cock before he was spilling cum all over his hand and exiting the bathroom with his pockets full of treasures like nothing ever happened.
About two weeks into this cat and mouse game you still weren’t sure you were just playing with yourself, you were alone in Eddie’s room. He ran out to his van to check for the tape he was looking for and you were sitting on his bed and one of his shirts was thrown haphazardly near his pillows like he had taken it off right before going to sleep. The thought came to you and before you could question it you were grabbing it and holding it up to your nose. It smelled good but not like you were expecting. You were expecting the scent of weed mixed with tobacco, apple shampoo and the aftershave you got for him after you told him the smell of the one he was using smelled like a 60 year old man’s wife picked it out for him.
It smelled like those things, but it also smelled like… you, your perfume. But there was something else. When you picked it up it felt slightly dry and maybe a little bit crunchy and upon closer inspection you noticed that it was dried cum. Did he spray your perfume onto his cum shirt? Was he smelling it while he stroked his cock? Thinking of you? The thought made your pussy pulse and your head spin, but it wasn’t what you wanted. Plus, he would definitely notice this missing. So when you heard the trailer door swing open you acted fast. Grabbing one of his discarded shirts that was on the ground near his bed and shoving it into your bag.
That night you did something you would’ve felt ashamed of if you weren’t positive Eddie’s done something similar, maybe even dirtier from the looks and smells of that shirt you found.
You wrapped Eddie’s shirt around your pillow and rode it until you came three times. As you drifted off to sleep still holding onto the pillow you wondered how much longer you could go without actually having the real thing.
Eddie was starting to wonder if you were doing this on purpose, his first indication of that being what he was currently holding in his hands. You were in the kitchen making lunch for the both of you and he was snooping around, as one does. But something caught his eye when he was walking by your shelf, something that wasn’t there before. Right on top of the stack of Polaroids he had found the bikini photo in was a picture of your tits. Your nipples were covered by your forearm, but your tits nonetheless. He was absolutely positive this hadn’t been there before, he definitely would have noticed.
Did you notice that he took the bikini photo and leave this here on purpose so he would see it? Did you take this for someone else? The thought of that made him sick to his stomach. His thoughts were bouncing around in his head like a ping pong ball trying to decide if he was reading into it, if he should take the photo or leave it. If he took it would you be mad? Would you be offended if he didn’t?
Before he could contemplate his decision further he heard your steps coming down the hall so he made a snap judgment and shoved it in his pocket. Practically launching himself onto your bed, he grabbed one of your cute frilly pillows, threw it on his lap and hoped it wouldn’t come off as suspicious.
You were walking down the hall with two bowls of Mac and cheese when you heard a shuffling sound and then the creaking of your mattress like someone just jumped on it. You smirk to yourself, wondering if Eddie saw the gift you left him.
When you open your bedroom door he’s sitting on your bed with a pillow in his lap, he flashes you a smile that is almost believable but you could see the slight flush in his cheeks. You set his bowl down on top of the pillow, and smile back.
“There you go Eds, one gourmet bowl of Kraft, as promised.” You mock curtsied, setting your own bowl down on your nightstand before walking over to your dresser under the guise of grabbing some socks. Making sure to glance as subtlety as possible at your shelf, and just as you thought, the photo was gone.
“Why thank you madam” Eddie held the spoon in his hand with his pinky out as he dramatically took a bite.
You giggled at his antics, as you grabbed the socks out of your top drawer you saw an opportunity to tease him further. You had already seen Eddie eyeing you in your little house shorts and your tank top so you pulled out your white thigh thighs, the soft fuzzy ones that you only really wore at home and made a show of putting them on.
You kept your back to him, bending over extra as you slid them slowly up your legs. You make sure to pull them up as high as they go. Leaving only a small section of skin between the top of the socks and the bottom of your shorts.
Eddie was pretty sure he was going to pass out and he thanked his past self for putting this pillow where it is right now. He watched as you pulled on your socks wondering how something as mundane as putting on fucking socks could be this sexy. When you snapped each one in place it made the meat of your thighs slightly giggle and the way they were sitting just under the curve of your ass was making it look extra juicy. He wanted to bite into it before he made his way between your thighs and spent the rest of his god damn life there.
“Fuck” He swore under his breath and hoped to god you didn’t hear him.
“Hmm? Eddie, you okay?”
You turn around and look at him with that fucking look you always gave him, like you didn’t know how sexy you were, like you didn’t know you drive him fucking crazy.
“Uh - Yeah! I was just saying fuck this is really good, I forgot how much some good ol’ kraft hits the spot.” He smiled and hoped his excuse was convincing enough, taking a large bite for good measure.
“Right? It’ll always be my favorite no matter how many homemade or restaurant kinds I’ve eaten, nothing beats it.”
You crawl onto your bed, making sure he can see down your shirt and plop down next to him on the pillows, leaning over to grab your bowl off your nightstand. Eddie can see your ass even more when your shorts ride up and he suddenly feels like he’s got to get out of here before he says or does something totally humiliating.
“I - uh - I just remembered I have to help Wayne! I told him I’d help him move his stuff into my old room since he has been so tired and hasn’t done it! So I’m - I gotta go!” He stood up swiftly, turning away from you and throwing the pillow down behind him. He didn’t turn around, just kept marching towards your door with his bowl still in hand. Only when he was practically out of your bedroom door did he turn his head to the side and address you.
“Thank you for lunch! I’ll leave the bowl in the sink! I’ll um - I’ll see you later!”
He didn’t even give you a chance to respond, ditching the bowl in the sink, grabbing his shoes not even bothering to put them on as he ran out the door to his van in only his socks.
You sat there with your mouth hanging open, eyes wide as you stared at your bedroom door wondering what the fuck just happened. Did you go too far? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe he changed his mind about you… Or maybe… maybe he ran home to jerk off… maybe you did go too far but not in a bad way. That’s what you hoped at least.
You bit your lip and clenched your thighs as you entertained that possibility. Was he going to go home and jerk off to your photo? Maybe with your panties held to his nose or wrapped around his cock? At least that’s what you liked to imagine he did with them, you could be wrong.
You were wrong, but not about that. Eddie normally used your panties exactly how you imagined. But not right now, no. He didn’t even make it home, hell, he barely made it out of your apartment building before he was pulling off into some trees and furiously tugging at his cock while he practically dripped drool on your photo. He made sure not to though, he couldn’t taint it like that. It had to remain in perfect condition in case this was his only chance to see your tits.
He grunted and whined, spitting down onto his cock and rubbing it around his tip with his thumb. His pace increased as he imagined it was your hand, or even better, your tits. He imagined sliding his spit slick cock between them while you sucked and licked at the head, he imagined covering your face and tits with his cum.
“FUCK!” He throws his head back against the seat, his eyes cross and he practically bites through his bottom lip as he cums all over his hand, his pants, even some on his shirt.
After he came down from his high, the reality of what he did hit him. He not only probably confused the hell out of you by running off like that without barely saying goodbye, he just jerked off in his fucking van to a photo he took from your bedroom. This was getting out of hand. He had to get himself under control, maybe some distance would help.
You hadn’t seen Eddie all week, ever since he ran out of your room like a bat out of hell and that was unusual. You guys usually saw each other a few times during the week, even if it was one of you bringing the other lunch while you were at work.
You called him a few times, either getting his voicemail or only having a brief conversation before he came up with an excuse to get off the phone. You started to wonder if you were reading things wrong after all. But that just didn’t make sense, why would he take all those things if he didn’t like you? If he didn’t want you in the desperate way you wanted him? You almost felt like you needed him.
So you decided to make a last ditch effort, no beating around the bush this time you were going to be straight forward. You grab Eddie’s shirt, your Polaroid, and your white lacy thigh highs with the little pink bows that he bashfully complimented one day.
You wrap the shirt around your pillow like you have done so many times now you’re almost ashamed. You take off your shirt and shorts before pulling on the thigh highs, leaving you in just your little white lace panties and socks.
The first photo you take is a shot from above of your tits, you can see your thong and the very top of your lace adorned thighs.
The second features your face, your eyes wide in that way you know he loves, your middle and pointer finger shoved down your throat with your lips wrapped around them. If you look close enough you can see a bit of drool dripping down between your boobs.
The third photo is a full nude, your legs spread and pussy on full display for him.
The next one is the one you’re most excited for, the one that sparked this entire plan. It’s an upshot of you from the neck down, you’re straddling the pillow that’s wrapped in Eddie’s shirt in just your socks, your free hand grabbing onto one of your tits.
The last photo is you in the same position but it’s from below, you have your fingers on your pussy, opening yourself up for him against the material of his shirt.
Satisfied with the spread, you gather them up, grab your discarded thong and remove the shirt from your pillow. You fold the panties and the photos into the shirt like they’re a gift to be unwrapped and put them in a little box. Then you write out a note.
Eddie,
if you wanted my panties… all you had to do was ask. You’ve taken all my cutest ones now. But that’s okay because I took something of yours too, I thought you might want it back.
Xoxo - Your angel.
You sign the note with the nickname he had awarded you and fold it in half, putting it on top of the shirt and then you put the lid on the box. Now all you had to do was give it to him, everyone had planned to meet at Gareth’s for a movie night tomorrow and he was supposed to pick you up. You could give it to him in the car before you get there and tell him not to open it until he gets home. It was the perfect plan. Hopefully.
Eddie was nervous on his way to pick you up for movie night, he had managed to avoid you the entire week, much to his dismay. He felt pathetic but he missed you, and even though he was still feeling guilty he was excited to see you.
He pulled into a guest parking spot in front of your building and was surprised to see you already standing there. He usually had to come in while you finished getting ready because you were perpetually running late. But you were standing there in a little white dress and a soft looking pink knit sweater, holding a little box in your arms. He figured it was some kind of baked goods, you pretty much always brought treats to every get together.
You saw him pull in and waved as you walked over, he jumped out of the car so he could come around and open the door for you.
“Hi Eddie, this is for you. But don’t open it now, open it when you get home. Okay? Promise me?”
You sounded nervous, hell, you looked nervous. What was in that box? He doesn’t know how he’s going to get through the night not knowing.
“A gift? For me? Angel, you shouldn’t have.” He tried to play it cool, even though he was feeling anything but.
“I didn’t spend any money on it or anything… but I’m not giving it to you unless you promise you won’t open it until you get home later.”
“Yeah, I promise.” He smiled at you reassuringly.
You handed it to him nervously, and he took it with glee, immediately shaking it like a Christmas present.
“EDDIE!! Don’t do that, you’re never going to guess what it is so just wait, please!”
You were looking at him with this pouty look on your face and he literally would’ve said yes to murder at that moment so he agreed. You let out a breath of relief as you got into the car, now all you had to do is wait.
Movie night wasn’t awkward like you feared it might be. When Eddie picked you up he acted totally normal, like he hadn’t been ignoring you all week and you couldn’t tell if that annoyed you or not. Maybe a little. You wanted to ask him about it but you also didn’t want to make things awkward by bringing it up so you tried to act as normal as you could.
That little box in the back of Eddie’s van was in the back of your mind all night though, you couldn’t stop overthinking and second guessing your decision. You even almost went out to his van at one point to take everything out and shove it in your bag but you talked yourself out of it.
Eddie was in a similar boat, he was having fun, he was engaging and acting as normal as he could but all he could think about was what possibly could be in that box. He knows you made him promise but there are several times where he has to physically stop himself from just going out to his van to look in it.
When the last movie ends you and Eddie were both quick to gather your things and leave. Him wanting to get home as fast as possible to see what was in the box and you wanting the looming thoughts of how he might react to just be over with.
Your goodbyes were chaste, neither of you bringing up the gift you had given him. He walked you to the door like he always did but he didn’t ask to come inside and the hug he gave was much faster than the usual bear hugs he would normally give you.
Eddie sped home, he lived in a studio apartment a few miles from yours and the drive had never felt so long. He pulled into his parking spot with a screech, grabbed the box from the back and rushed inside.
He didn’t even bother to take his shoes off, throwing his jacket across the back of the couch before plopping down on one of the cushions with the box in his lap.
He took a deep breath before opening it. At the top was a note, he unfolded it and as he read it he swore all the blood from his body went directly to his cock.
Underneath the note was his shirt, his favorite Iron Maiden one he hadn’t been able to find for a few weeks.
It was folded neatly so he gently took it out of the box, it felt heavier than it should and when it was fully in his grasp he could feel that there was something inside it.
He sets it down in front of him on his coffee table so he can unfold it and his jaw drops when he sees what’s inside. A pair of your panties, a little white lace thong is sitting under a stack of Polaroids.
His hand shakes as he reaches for the photos, when he sees the first one he actually moans, and then they somehow just keep getting better. But he stops dead in his tracks when he sees the second to last one.
You have his shirt wrapped around your pillow and you’re straddling it in nothing but those fucking socks, and he’s seriously going to lose his mind, especially when he sees the last photo of you in the same position, spread open for him.
It took him a second to get past the fog of lust to realize what this means. You knew. You always knew what he was doing. It all makes sense now. The way your panties were always so easy to steal, how he always happened to have the perfect view of your tits and ass, the photo. Also you took his shirt, you didn’t just take it, you put it on your fucking pillow and humped it. He hopes you did it more than once. He picks up the shirt again and he really looks at it this time, there’s little white streaks all over it, from you. He brings it to his nose and it’s the best thing he’s ever smelled. Both of your scents mixed together, topped off with the sweet smell of your pussy.
His initial thought was to rip his pants off and stroke his cock until it was raw but he realized he could do better than that. He could have the real thing. He needed to see you. Now.
He didn’t even think twice about shoving everything back in the box and walking back out the door to his van. Speeding off in the direction towards your house.
You were laying in your bed trying not to let your anxiety consume you when you heard banging on your door. Your heart pounded and your mouth went dry, you knew who it was, there was no way it could be anyone but him.
You opened the door and there he was, looking absolutely feral if you might add. His eyes were wide, pupils blown out, he was breathing like he ran a mile, and his hair was all over the place. You wanted to eat him alive.
“You knew?” He held up the box you had given him earlier the night, his hands shaking.
“Yeah…” You bit your lip as you nodded. “I knew the whole time… from when you took that first pair of panties, I knew.”
“And you didn’t say anything?” He looked at you, his eyes filled with lust and confusion.
You shake your head, a smirk forming across your lips.
“Why not?” He was still panting, hands grasped tightly on the box.
“It was fun, I thought for a while there that you knew I was doing it on purpose, and then when I realized you didn’t it was almost hotter to me for some reason… I’m sorry if that’s weird.” You suddenly felt super self conscious, was he mad you didn’t say anything?
“I stole your panties, multiple pairs might I add, and you’re asking me if it’s weird that you left them out for me?” He laughed, bringing his hand up to your cheek and rubbing his thumb across it.
“I could never think you were weird angel, do you know how sexy that is? And these photos…” He groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head. “Did you really…”
“Fuck my pillow with your shirt on it? Yeah.” You nodded, your face nuzzling into his palm.
“Jesus fucking christ… that’s the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard in my entire life, shit.”
He used the hand cradling your face to pull you closer, clashing your lips together in a hungry kiss. You immediately buried your fingers in his hair, like you did in all your fantasies. You wanted him closer but the box was still in between you so you broke the kiss long enough to pull him inside and discard it on your kitchen counter.
You pulled his mouth back down to yours by the collar of his shirt, running your tongue along his bottom lip and he immediately granted you access. Your hands made their way back into his hair and he gripped your hips pulling you tightly against him.
“God Eddie, I want you so fucking bad.” You moaned against his lips.
“Angel, I’ll give you anything you want after all these sweet gifts you’ve been leaving me without me even knowing… you really thought I knew?” He took your face in both your hands, running his hands down your neck and rubbing his thumbs along your jaw.
“For a while there, yeah… That’s why I left you that first picture, but then when I came back in my room and you were acting all nervous I realized you definitely didn’t know. I thought for a second I might’ve made you uncomfortable but I took the chance with the photos anyway… looks like it paid off.” You looked him up and down, biting your lip.
“Fuck yeah it did.” He pulled you into another bruising kiss that you happily returned. You stood there in your kitchen making out for what could’ve been minutes or hours, tongues exploring every inch of each other's mouths and your hands mapping out each other's bodies.
You finally pulled away, breathless. You smirked at him, placing a kiss on his throat before turning around and walking towards your room. Eddie wanted to scream at the sight of your ass in your tiny little pink spandex shorts. He bit down on his fist instead, admiring you for a moment before practically running after you.
You were standing in the middle of the room with a smirk on your face that he’s never seen, one you must have been hiding from him this whole time. You looked like you wanted to eat him alive and he was going to let you.
“Tell me about your fantasies Eddie… tell me what you did with my panties, I wanna know so bad.” Your smirk turned into a little pout, giving him that fucking look. The one he knows now is all an act, but something about that just makes his dick even harder for you.
“Fuck, you really want to know? The first time I sucked on them while I jerked off and right when I was about to cum I wrapped them around my dick and came all over them.”
“Mmm… that’s what I hoped you’d do, tell me more…” You walk up to him and run your hands down his chest, hook your fingers in his front pockets and give him the look.
“I can’t believe this is happening, I - uh - I was so scared if you ever found out you’d hate me. But fuck, I never imagined you would be into it.” He put his hands on your hips and squeezed, almost like he was making sure this was real.
“Well, you better believe it honey, because I am so so into it.. please tell me more.” You lean up and press wet kisses along his neck.
“God damn.” He throws his head to the side more, granting you further access to his throat. “When I had a second pair I sucked on the newer ones and used that same pair to jerk off. Then when I got your perfume I sprayed it on my pillow so that I could smell you and taste you.”
“Mmm Eddie, that’s so hot.” You bite into his throat causing him to let out the cutest little yelp, sucking the skin into your mouth, wanting to mark him as your own.
“Then once I had the bikini photo I was able to see you too, so it was like I was surrounded by you in every way possible.”
His hands snake down your hips to grab onto your ass, the material of your shorts and the feeling of your soft skin contrasting with the calluses on his fingers.
“That day when I found that picture of your tits… and then you somehow found a way to make putting socks on one of the hottest things I’ve ever seen and you topped it off by bending over in those little shorts with your ass practically in my face? I barely made it out of your building before I pulled over and jerked off in my van like a depraved psycho.”
You moaned at that, pulling back from his neck to look him in the eyes.
“If you’re depraved… so am I.” You pull your tank top over your head and throw it on the ground behind you somewhere, followed by your shorts. Eddie seriously thinks he’s in love with you at this point because you’re not wearing a bra or panties but you are of course wearing white thigh highs. You’re standing there like every fantasy he’s ever had about you come true, but better.
“Angel, those pictures have nothing on the real thing” He grabbed onto your tits, twisting your nipples between his fingers. Using his nose to brush your hair away so he can whisper in your ear. “I need to taste you so bad, like, so bad. I need to know what the real thing tastes like.”
“Mmm fuck, yes, want that so bad.”
You lay back on your bed and spread your legs, showing him how wet you are for him. Eddie doesn’t think twice before dropping to his knees in front of your bed and throwing your legs over his shoulders. He wishes he had it in him to kiss every inch of you before tasting you but it was like someone offered him the nectar of the gods and he needed it now.
He parted your lips with his fingers before running his tongue along your slit, licking up and down with a flat tongue before shoving it as far as it could go inside you.
“Ho- holy shit! Eddie!! Fuck, your mouth is so good.” Your fingers found his hair again, tugging and the groan he lets out sends vibrations through your pussy.
“I thought your panties tasted sweet but nothing will ever taste sweeter than the real thing, oh my god baby.”
His tongue comes up to circle your clit, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You feel his fingers circle your entrance before he’s inserting his pointer and middle finger deep inside you. He curls his fingers in just the right way, he’s still sucking your clit while he runs circles around it with his tongue and you feel yourself getting close.
“I’m gonna - I’m gonna - fuckinnng cum - I’m gonna cum.” You pull his hair again and start rocking your hips against his face. You watch his eyes roll back and feel him moan into you again, knowing he’s enjoying this as much as you is what sends you over the edge. Your hips rising off the bed and your hands falling from his hair to grasp the sheets. Eddie brings his free hand down on your abdomen to hold you down as he fucks you through your high.
You try to push him off once it becomes too much but you hear, or more so feel him let out an “Uh-Uh” into your pussy. His hand that’s pinning you down doesn’t move and his fingers stay buried inside you. He’s licking and sucking on your clit like a man starved and you immediately feel another orgasm crash over you. Your entire body shakes and you let out noises you didn’t even know you can make.
When he feels you push at his head this time he lets you, looking up at you with a grin on his face, his chin and mouth covered in your juices.
“Sorry… you just tasted so good and when you came it was so hot I didn’t want to stop.” He looked awfully bashful for someone who was just eating you out like it was his fucking job.
“You’re sorry? Holy shit Eddie, I’ve never cum that hard in my entire life.”
He smiled triumphantly, you’d think just told him he won the lottery. He came up and covered his body with yours, kissing you without wiping his face. The taste of you on his tongue was intoxicating so you pulled away from the kiss and licked his lips, then his chin, and down his neck.
“Fuck, we taste so good together.” You moan.
“Holy fucking shit, you’re my dream girl.”
“Let me return the favor, I wanna taste you too, also you are wearing way too many clothes right now.” You pull at the hem of his shirt and he puts his arm behind his head to pull it off.
You’ve never seen him shirtless before and you needed a better view. You push on his shoulders until he lifts himself off of you and lays back on the bed. You throw your leg over him to straddle him, looking down at him in awe.
“Wow Eddie… you’re beautiful.”
You smile at him with that devilish little smile he’s becoming addicted to as you run your soft hands along his chest before raking your nails down his torso, all the way to the waistband of his jeans. His back arches off the bed as he lets out this sound that you want to hear him make over and over again.
You grind your hips down on his, fiddling with his belt loop and looking at him with a question in your eyes.
“Please.” Now he’s the one giving you the look and you understand why he loves it much. Those big brown eyes are wide and glassy, there’s a slight pout on his lips and even though he just ate you out so good it makes you want to sit on his face.
But there’s something you want more, something you’ve been dreaming about. So you undo his belt and jeans with deft fingers, pulling on the waistband of both his pants and boxers. He lifts his hips so you can pull them down and when his cock pops out and hits his stomach your jaw actually drops.
You always figured Eddie was big. You caught small glimpses through his jeans when he thought he was hiding his boners better than he really was, so you had an idea. But it’s bigger than you imagined, and so so pretty. The tip red and leaking precum, each vein prominent because of how hard he was. You lick your lips and spit on your hand, wrapping your hand around his cock and pumping it a few times. He makes that sound again and you know you’re addicted to it now.
“Your cock is huge baby, I can’t wait to feel it stretching me out.” You spit on the head of his cock, circling your thumb around it before you lean down and take it in your mouth.
“Holy - fuckING - sh - shit!” Eddie instinctually jerks forward, his cock hits the back of your throat and you gag.
He’s about to apologize but you don’t pull off, just push his cock further down your throat until your nose is snug against the hair at the base. There’s tears coming out of the sides of your eyes and drool dripping down your chin but you’re moaning and so he can tell you’re enjoying it. You circle your tongue around his shaft a few times before pulling off.
Not for long though, you take him as far as you can without gagging and start bobbing your head up and down, your hand moving in time with whatever your mouth can't reach. Eddie is a moaning mess, he’s babbling your name in between curse words, switching between grabbing onto your hair, the sheets, and his own hair.
When you pull off his dick and bring your mouth to his balls, swirling your tongue all around his sack before sucking one into your mouth he’s pretty sure he’s in love with you. But he’s also positive that he wants to fuck you so he grabs you by your hair and pulls you off.
“Hey, I wasn’t done!” You look at him with a pout and you whine. Every time Eddie thinks he can’t possibly be anymore obsessed with you, you prove him wrong.
“Yeah but I was about to come and I want to fuck you so badly.” He’s the one whining now.
“Can I ride you?” You ask him like that’s even a question.
“Fuck yeah you can.”
You eagerly climb back up to straddle him, wasting no time lining him up with your entrance and sliding down on his cock. It’s still a stretch but you’re so wet it hardly hurts. You rock back and forth a few times once your hips are flush against yours and you moan in unison at the feeling.
“Oh sh- shit, your pussy is so fucking t- tight. Feels better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
“Yeah? Your cock is so fucking big, filling me up so good Eds.”
You start riding him hard and fast, your ass bouncing against his thighs, your tits on full display and you’re moaning his name over and over again like a prayer. He has one hand on your ass, grabbing it so hard you’re sure you’re going to have a bruise there tomorrow, and you honestly hope you do. He brings the thumb of his free hand up to your bottom lip and runs it across it.
“Suck.”
You do, happily, swirling your tongue around the digit and moaning at the feeling of having something in your mouth while your pussy is being filled too. He pulls it out and you’re about to mourn the loss but then he’s rubbing circles on your clit and fucking up into you to meet your thrusts.
He starts fucking you so fast that you can’t keep up, you put your hands on his chest, your nails digging into his flesh and just let him take you. He’s fucking you hard and fast, his cock hitting just the right spot while he continues to circle your clit.
“Eddie I’m c - close I-I’m close.” Your babbling and drooling, fucked out and on the brink of what you know is going to be a mind altering orgasm.
“Me too Angel, I need you to cum for me. Cum all over my cock just like you dreamed about when you were humping your little pillow.” His feet are flat on the mattress and he’s somehow fucking you harder than he was before. When you cum your vision goes white, pleasure jolts through your entire system and you aren’t even sure you’re on this planet anymore.
“Fuck fuck fuck fuck I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum, where do you?”
Eddie talking brings you back to earth just enough to respond, to tell him what you want.
“Inside! Eddie please inside! I want you to cum inside me so bad!” You start to meet his thrusts, he’s still rubbing your clit and you’re so sensitive you already feel another orgasm coming on.
“Oh fuck!!!” Eddie cries out as his thrusts slow down to pumps and his cum spills inside you. The feeling sends you over the edge, cumming right along with him. Your walls squeeze him for all he’s worth.
When you come down you let yourself fall onto his chest, both of you panting, your hearts pounding. You lay like that for a while, catching your breath and enjoying the feeling of each other. Eventually your knees start to cramp and you slide off of him, settling at his side with your head on his chest.
“I’m gonna fuckin marry you someday.”
You laugh, even though he doesn’t sound like he’s joking.
“Yeah? I think I’d like that. Then my underwear will stop going missing because we will live in the same house.”
You both started cracking up at that.
“I’m serious though, can I have some of them back? You really did steal all my best ones…” You looked up at him and pouted, giving him the look.
“That’s not gonna work the same now that I know you’re just using it against me…”
“You sure about that?” You stick your bottom lip out further and make your eyes even wider.
“Ugh, no. You’re still not getting them back though, I’ll buy you new ones.” He brings his hand up to push your hair out of your face and places a kiss on your temple.
“Why? So you can just take those ones too?” You tease.
“Nah, I have the real thing now. I’d rather take them off you.”
Tagging the bbs: @the-unforgivenn @lokis-army-77 @gravedigginbbydoll @bettyfrommars @eddiemunson95 @melodymunson @bangaveragewhitewine
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atyourmerci · 3 months
Text
† Repent †
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Read pt.2 here
Summary: You are sent off on a mission for 2 months. Abigail Anderson, the group leader, resents you for your sexuality until she gets drunk and ends up at your doorstep.
Warnings: smut, MDNI, alcohol usage, sub!abby, comphet!abby, brattop!reader, religion play, oral, fnv, tribbing, dirty talk yurrr, mentions of Owen so sorry, no use of y/n
A/N: Hey my horny sluts, this was very self indulgent fic. Definitely not for everyone but I wanted to play with this internal homophobia abby angle and through hella porn in it<3 hope you like it:)))
You were stationed off at a base camp for two months along with a group of WLF soldiers. This group was Issac’s top of the line, best fighters, engineers, and you accompanying as the best medic on line. The area was cased with scars and there was likely to be bloodshed. Issac couldn’t risk letting more than one medic for this long trip but there was no way he was sending a training med to work on his top of line children.
You knew most of the group well since you were always given the honor of fixing them. There were a few girls that kept you busy when there wasn’t a wound to heal. No one you’d keep around for long, you didn’t have the time to start relationships in this job, but a good fuck wasn’t beyond you. Days turned into long nights either stitching lesions or under the next sculpted woman that begged at your knees.
You were used to the attention, you were charming, beautiful, slightly bitchy, maybe a bit overzealous in your work but your forte was needed for these people. The men had attempted their shot with you, but everyone knew where you stood in the sheets. That’s why Abigail Anderson despised you.
It took you awhile to understand, from the moment she found out what you were doing in off hours she resented your lifestyle. Sure, she played it off by saying you were, ‘too distracted for your position’ or that ‘you got around’. Frankly you didn’t understand why she fucking cared. One day drunkenly her best friend Manny had said your ‘ways’ made her uncomfortable.
You knew she had been with her boyfriend Owen for a couple of years, and never left her room without her cross neckless- fuck she’d even shower with it on. That day in the open showers you had seen her look over at your naked body and return her hand to her cross gripping it tight with her eyes closed, leaving in a scoff. You just didn’t understand why her distain for you persisted- you thought it would space off once she got to know you.
After a couple months of backhanded comments, side eyes, and aggression you chose to just distance yourself from her at all costs. Maybe she had gotten the memo since she always requested your secondhand med to treat her, even knowing she wasn’t as suitable.
Once you found out shed be leading the mission for 2 months in close proximity you were blown. You asked Issac to switch you out for your secondhand- but he refused. After days of pestering him, he said he wouldn’t be changing his mind, Abby had asked for you specifically to accompany the mission. Why the fuck would she ask for you was beyond you, but you made it your agenda to fuck with her relentlessly for her decision.
You made sure to chose the room directly next to her so she could hear your sinful cries getting your back blown. leaving your white shirt un-buttoned low enough so your cleavage would spill out when you worked on her, blistering irritated grunts out of her. For someone so worked up about your lifestyle she always seemed to be watching your every move.
Watching you out of the corner of her eye change in the showers, walking out of her room just as you were heavy breathing lip locked with a girl making your way into sin. One time you were stitching a gash on her leg she gripped onto your hip in pain, her eyes trailed to your spilling cleavage before she snapped out of her haze saying, “uhhh- sorry its just painful there. Just fucking hurry up.” Knowing you had phased her you responded in a simple “mhm,” and continued working.
Maybe her morbid curiosity was at play, maybe she was just a fucking homo- but she’d never admit that to anyone and definitely not herself.
A month and a half in the base lagged by, there was only 2 weeks left of the painful glares and snarky comments left from your leader. The area had grown quiet for a while, most of the scars had retreated from your stay. Manny had made the decision for everyone to take the night off, set up a bonfire in the wooded areas behind the abandoned hotel, and get shitfaced on some homemade wine that was finally finished fermentation. It tasted like piss but was strangely intensely stronger than anything you had found in vacant bars.
Once the sun had fallen you were all seated around the roaring fire under the nigh sky. You had downed two glasses of piss wine and were already pretty spent. Abby was perched upon a log across the fire from you, in her usual dominating manspread and arms draped across her meaty thighs, on her fourth cup of sour. The sight was quite shocking- Abby never drank that much, something about the loss of control she didn’t like.
Her eyes were like lasers on you, usually she’d attempt to hide her ever glaring stare, maybe she was too intoxicated to care. All day she was on one, lashing out at people, throwing shit. She was always mildly aggressive, but you had never seen her to this extent.
The girl adorned behind you, pulling at your hips was probably the cause of her disapproving eyes, but this time felt harsher. You watch as she finishes off her glass and returns her eyes back to you with gritted teeth. “Manny hand me the wine,” she barks, her eyes never leaving you. Manny looks at her angered stare, crossing his eyes back to your direction and back to her, “Que pasa amiga, I think you’re good for now,” he says with a laugh.
“Just hand me the fucking wine,” she directs her attention to Manny- some people throw out ‘woahs’ and ‘damns’ at her attitude. Manny hands her the bottle with no reply. “Somebody needs to get fucked already,” you throw out with enough drunken confidence knowing it will rile her up. “Not everything can be fixed with sex, not that you’d understand,” she drives her eyes deeper into your own.
“Well, if I was having the sex you were having, I’d go celibate,” you say causing a guttural laugh from everyone, easing up the built tension.
“Whore,” she retorts.
“Awh someone’s mad her boyfriend can’t make her cum,” you give her a pout.
Her cheeks grow red in anger- maybe embarrassment since you didn’t have to take 2 looks at Owen to know he couldn’t please a women, especially not one of that stature. She darts up from her seat, all but a growl escaping her mouth. She grabs the half full bottle from Manny and takes off.
“What crawled up her ass?” You direct to Manny. He gives you eyes that speak louder than his mouth could utter in a way of ‘you’re the reason she’s so pissed off, you know that’. Maybe you had pushed her too far, but fuck did she deserve it. She deserved to get called on her bullshit for once- everyone just cowered down to her. Sure, she was tall, muscly, and heavily intimidating but you know how to drive the knife right into her.
You enjoyed riling her up, driving her to her very edge. Maybe it was the alcohol talking but you were hot at the sight of her aggression, the way the veins in her arm popped as she ripped the bottle out of Manny’s hand. You weren’t attracted to straight girls, especially not homophobic straights- but you thought of her. Every snarky remark, touching her skin in passings as you healed her danced in your mind.
You brushed off your thoughts, you were just drunk you told yourself. The fire had died down soon after Abby’s fit, everyone was either ready to retire to bed or fuck. You chose the latter with the touchy girl sitting behind you. She was a good one, never had to kick her out after you finished- she knew what you wanted.
You make your way back to the dingy hotel, hand and hand with the pretty brunette. By the time you had made it to your doorway the girl had you up against the door needily. Of course, you let it happen, you were waiting for Abby to conveniently walk out and watch you. She never came out; you were almost disappointed but persisted with the brunette. You made sure to exaggerate every moan, every sinful word, even unsuspectedly convinced her to fuck you against the wall you shared with Abby- just to make sure she would hear.
After orgasming twice, she was out the door, no awkward post-sex cuddling or talking, wasn’t your thing and she knew that. You lay your sleepy drunken head on your pillow ready to sleep. Within five minutes you heard Abby’s door slam shut, and a harsh knock on your door. You knew that you had pissed her off, your job was done so you ignored her calls and nuzzled back onto your pillow with a smirk.
Another knock slams your door, “I know you’re in there, open the door,” Abby huskily demands. You walk over to the door, wearing only your loose tank top and panties. You swing the door open to a disheveled Abby, heavy breathing, eyes half lidded, in a white wife pleaser and loose black sweats, cross necklace adorned by her collarbones. Her muscles looked as if they were pulsing, her abs etched through her shirt.
After seconds of intense glaring, she moves past you into your room without an invitation. “Abby what the hell could you possibly need right now…” you can smell the liquor reeking off her sweaty body, “how much have you had to drink” you say but she quickly cuts you off, “do you really think I cant fucking hear you in here with those- girls?” She says girls with a disgusted flare. “I know you can,” you retort with your arms crossed. “Why are you like that,” she says confused. “Like what Abby? Gay? You can say it- God wont strike you down for speaking it,” you shoot her a smug laugh. “You- you’re fucking insufferable,” she says drunkenly. “You walked into my room; you don’t have to be here.”
She walks up so close to your face you can feel her breath, the smell of sour laced. “I came here to tell you how you disgust me,” she says heavy breathed. “Is that so?” You pierce your eyes into hers, not giving into her intimidation. “Ye-yeah,” she falters at you standing your ground. Her eye contact directs down to your plush lips, she licks her own. You bite your bottom lip to drive into her.
“Why are you such a bitch?” She raises her eyes back to yours, this time glassier, gentler. “You’re mad you don’t scare me,” now you step closer to where you are exchanging each other’s breath. She responds wordlessly breathing heavier than before, lips parted as if she was waiting for something to come out. You stare up into her eyes dragging your bottom lip back into your mouth with your teeth. “Stop fucking doing that,” she demands not moving a muscle.
You give her an innocent pout, “I’m not doing anything Abigail, you can leave right now if you’re so uncomfortable,” trailing your eyes back and fourth from her lips to her eyes. “Give in to me,” Abby pleads almost submissively, her eyes looked like she could cry. “I’m not going to make this easy for you, if you want something take it,” you are eager at this point, still trying to keep your confidence intact.
She gives it a second, probably internally battling, in a huff she mutters “Fuck,” and grabs your face crashing your lips aggressively together. She took the breath out of you, kissing you like she needed it for survival. Both of you are too ravished to process reality. You grabbed aimlessly at her chest needing the friction of her warmth. She forces her tongue onto yours letting a moan escape her mouth. You were done for.
You pull her to your bed never leaving her lips, crashing over boxes and shoes but neither of you falter your embrace. You push her onto your bed, making your way on top of her. Before you can reattach your lips, she pushes a hand into your chest stopping you, “I- I’m not gay,” she says with weary eyes. You simply respond with “okay,” and reattempt to kiss her, she pushes you back again, “okay?” she questions. “Do you want me to me to stop?” You question back. She pulls you in ruggedly, so her mouth is against yours, needy again.
You pull back from her embrace, “I want to hear you say it Anderson,” she shakes her head like a child, like she couldn’t say it aloud. You start to get up from the bed when she pulls you back down grasp heavy and deprived, “jus- just do it, I- I want it.” “Good girl,” you reply and straddle on top of her causing whimpers to flow out of the husky blonde.
You move down to kiss on her neck, biting slightly then licking the wound. You can see her hand white knuckling her cross necklace, eyes shut. Through heavy moans she confesses, “Thi-s is- isn’t right…what you’re doing t- to me.” You smirk into her neck trailing your fingers down her arching chest, “just pretend I’m Owen,” knowing you’ll strike a chord at the mention of her boyfriend.
You go back to her collarbone nibbling and licking as you rise her shirt slowly, exposing her sweaty chiseled stomach. “You don’t fe- feel like him, he doesn’t touch me like this,” before she can finish your hand is under her shirt teasing at her nipple slowly. She throws her head back in a groan, unknowingly bucking her hips into you.
“I’m barely touching you Abby- he’s never done this to you,” you say not surprised, moving your free hand to grip her other nipple. She shakes her head at you in a pout. Seeing her like this, so unraveled and vulnerable made you pulse, you could feel your cunt pooling already.  
While you have her eye contact you move your head down to suck and lick circles around her soft pink nipple, her eyes barely open and mouth open panting. While sucking on her bud you trail your hand down to her sweats, teasing your fingertips at the waistband, but continue down to palm her covered pussy.
Her hips jolt up at your touch, “Jesus fuck me!” she yelps. “You say your prayers with that mouth, huh?” You jab, palming her cunt over layers of clothing. Her hips continue to rut against your hand, her hand continues to grip onto her cross for dear life, the other gripped down into your sheets. “Please… please take them off,” She begs you weary eyed. Since she was getting increasingly pathetic you drag down her sweaty pants to reveal grey boxers, a patch of wet pooled at her pussy. You lay kisses down her thighs and legs as you slowly unclothe her.
Once you pull them all the way down you meet your face at her cunt, wrapping your arms around her thick thighs, she couldn’t stop whimpering at your little touches. You place a slight kiss on her boxer clade cunt. “Fuckkkk,” she moans out. “If I eat your pretty pussy, are you going to repent after?” You say smirking at her desperation. “I- I have to, ke-ep going please,” she pants raising her cross to her heart. “Aren’t you a good little servant?” You drag down her soaked boxers.
You push your fingers into her soaked slit pushing it open to admire her. “You’re so fucking wet fuck,” you say gawking at the ‘straight’ girls mound, her slick running down her thighs. “a- are you going to use your fingers,” she asks in a pant. “We’ll get there,” you say smirking latching your tongue on her swollen clit. “oh my god,” she screams out at the feeling of your tongue against her.
You begin sucking and tracing crosses and circles on her clit that causes her back to arch her back and let go off her cross to grip into the sheets with both hands. “Fuck fuck fuck- you feel s’good fuck me fuck me,” she begins babbling. You start to tease her soaked hole with your finger that sent her hips bucking into your hand to force entry.
“So impatient Anderson,” you taunt her. “Ill do wh-whatever you want just please fuck me,” she begs you now cupping your face with her large veiny hands, her eyes droopy and pout on her lips. “Tell me how much you like getting fucked by a girl,” you pump just the tip of your pointer finger into her entrance. “You feel so good,” she says panting in desperation.
“Not good enough,” you say pulling out your fingertip. She whimpers feeling your retreat. “I- I worship you, yo- you feel so good Ill get on my knees and worship you please baby,” she looks like she’s nearing tears, but the pleading hits you deep in your core. You needed to see her fall apart just as much as she needed to feel it.
Without warning you plunge two fingers deep inside of her cushiony walls, sending her falling back into the sheets, her hands gripped into your scalp. You return back to her clit, watching her chest rise and fall in breath idly, sweat dripping down the creases of her abs. You hear as she mumbles prayer under her breath, maybe she was worshiping her god, maybe at this point you were her god.
You continued nonetheless; it didn’t matter at this point she had submitted pathetically to you. Your tongue laps at her creamy slit, your fingers coating in her slick. “I-m going to cum I- cant take that much longer,” she moans out shaking around your head.
You pull out of her abruptly making her whine out, sitting up on her elbows. “Not yet…” you say getting up taking off your soaked panties and returning to her. She watches you intently, her eyes grow at the sight of your cunt. “A-are you going to let me touch you?” She asks doe eyed. “No, I’m going to rub my cunt against yours, okay?” she sheepishly nods. “Gonna make sure you cum from just my pussy,” she whimpers at your words.
You nuzzle your cunt on top of hers in between her thighs. “You feel so good against me fuck,” she whines. You lazily drag your clit against her as moans now flow out your own mouth. She grips into your hip helping you grind into her, at the slight act of dominance causes you whimper into her raised thigh. “Fuck keep t-talking you sound so fucking good,” her mouth is wide open, beads of sweat on her legs mixing with your own. You feel as your slick combines with hers making a complete mess on your sheets.
“Baby I- I’m so close,” she whimpers gripping so deeply into your hip she was sure to bruise you. “Cum for me pretty girl, be a good girl and serve me,” you pant driving your eyes into the broken Abigail. She begins shaking at your words, falling apart beneath you. “fuck fuck fuck oh my fucking god i-m cu-mming ahhh,” she begins soaking your sheets. Of course, she was a fucking squirter.
You help her ride out her orgasm, gently rubbing down her thigh with your fingertips. “Wh- why is it so wet?” she rises groggily and confused. You giggle at her innocence, “you squirted dumbass, you’ve never done that before?” you cant help but grin up at her beauty and pure innocence. “No never, I’ve never even…you know…reached my peak with someone before,” you look into her eyes in pure shock gapping your mouth exaggeratedly.
“God I really would go celibate if I was you,” you giggle, and she gives you a slight smirk pulling you down on top of her. You circle your fingers across her chest, feeling her breath steady, she drags her fingers through your messy hair. “I’m not going to tell anyone Abby, this can be between us.” You say assuring her. “o-okay,” she responds sheepishly as if there was something else in her throat. Maybe she wanted to say it would never happen again, that her sexuality was intact after your night, maybe she wanted to say she wanted to leave Owen and linger on your skin forever, or maybe she began to repent.
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