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aajjks · 3 months

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Silent Cries (m)

synopsis. Not everything could go his way and he had to learn this the hard way

Disclaimer: this is pretty dark. Read at your own risk. Please keep in mind that this is purely fictional and I don’t think that Jungkook or any Bts member would ever act like this! Read with caution.

warning: ünhëälthy thèmès, fèrtïlïty ïssǔès, prègnâncy, öbsëssïön, mèntïöns ôf âbörtïön, dïvörcè, sèxüǎl thêmês, cryïng, yn rèálly wánts á báby, dêprèssïön, dárk thêmês.

note. Let’s welcome this new JK to my Multiverse. I hope you will ask him fun questions as well, and I hope you will love him even though he’s a little ☠️ ENJOY!

Header credit: @callingholly ❤️

***NOT EDITED***

You were told that you were not capable of having children, but… jungkook accepted that part of you. you know why.. it is because he loves you, and he never wanted children.

The day is gloomy, more than usual. You stand on the bathroom floor, your gaze is blurry. unshed tears in your eyes as you stare at the pregnancy test. The stick trembles in your hands. It is all over now.

You close your eyes in order to erase the image out your eyes. The image of two straight lines on the stick. You are supposed to feel really happy.

But why Fate is never really on your side?

Does God really hate you that much? All of your life, there was nothing but suffering, your parents never cared about you.

You and your husband, Jungkook- you love him, you really do but he’s just sometimes too much to bear. you’ve been having some problems in your marriage and you almost were considering divorce but now?

now, you are carrying another innocent life inside of you. That could be ruined because of you. Because of Jeon Jungkook, who ruins everything.

The thing is that he doesn’t want a child. He freaks out over the idea of having a child.

You sob at how pathetic you are. How could you let this happen? You are pregnant, with his child. You want to die. But now, you can’t do that.

If there’s anything you and him are not compatible with? It’s your family plan. You’ve always wanted children. Unlike your husband.

And no matter what his reaction is going to be, you can’t help but grab your belly, wiping your tears that fall.

You are going to have this baby. You can’t kill it- your husband will suggest it, you know him so well.

Because you are not a killer. You can’t kill the little life inside of you. That you so desperately wanted all your life. You’ve prayed for this moment.

And even though you have made your decision,

Panic rises in your chest as you come out of the bathroom and look at Jungkook’s and yous wedding photos that litter the creamy beige walls. Thankfully, he’s not home right now so you will have some time to relax and plan how to tell him.

But- it’s almost time.

He could be home any minute now! The ticking of the clock almost warns you. Time is going.

You throw the stick in the dumpster. He’s going to find it anyways. you have no idea why you feel so nervous… You feel like you are being suffocated. And you can’t be saved.

As your hand rests on your yet to be swollen stomach, something switches in you. You have to be strong now. You need to survive for your child. You have to make him understand. This child will be a blessing for the both of you. You are going to become strong.

You are going to change everything just for the sake of your child. Because this little bean is now the reason for your existence. Maybe this could fix your marriage-because you really don’t want to leave your husband-you’re not sure about what you want..

You quickly wipe the tears as a small smile paints your lips. Your grandma raised you to be strong and you can just give into Jungkooks stupid demand. You are going to be like your grandma, who raised you, took care of you. Became your mum, that you never had.

This baby is just as jungkook as yours too, and it is going to become your strength. This baby is a gift from God, your saving grace.

Your husband was really happy on the particular day, when you had been told about your fertility issues, he made it really clear that he never wanted children, he always wanted it, to be him and you.

Your thoughts are cut off short when the doorbell rings. And the main door unlocking. talk of the devil? And He shall appear.

You inhale a deep breath.

Time to do this.

“I’m pregnant, Jungkook.” The words come out of your mouth so easily. Jungkook who is cuddling, your body, a habit he has. Looks up at you.

He is currently laid in your lap, and he starts to laugh at you.

You want to roll your eyes, but this reaction is not really that surprising from him and you just have to be calm and collected right now.

“I-I’m so sorry? But you’re pregnant?” He stops laughing, as he wipes his tears. he looks so bad you with his brown eyes and you can tell he’s waiting for you to say that you’re kidding but you’re not.

You just smile at him in pity. Your nod of confirmation was all it took for Jungkook to start panicking.

“W-What are you saying!? Y-You can’t be! You can’t be pregnant!!” He gets up from your shared bed as he runs his hand frantically through his hair. His dark damp, long locks hiding his eyes.

What the fuck is he talking about? His words hit a nerve in you. He knows damn well how you got pregnant.

“What the fuck Jungkook! How can you ask me how I’m pregnant?! It’s because of you! You did this!” You scream at the panicking man.

“because I thought you weren’t supposed to get pregnant?!” He’s right about that but it’s not like you planned on this to happen. You also thought that you couldn’t have children.

So what was the point in using protection birth control, like he always said to you. You just both have to deal with the consequences of your actions.

“B-But yn! I don’t want a child.” There we go.

“There is not supposed to be someone else between us! Not a-a baby!” Jungkook cries desperately as he grabs you by the shoulders and shakes you as if you’ll understand his point. You get up from the bed.

If it’s an argument he wants, you’ll give him that.

You cannot believe that he’s crying right now.

You glare at the doe eyed man who is looking at you as if you have grown two heads. “Jungkook! You disgust me.” You spit at him. You can’t believe him, he is such a selfish person. Jungkook flinches at the coldness of your tone as his grip loosens on your shoulders.

His voice comes out rough and broken but he keeps on apologising to you. “Y-Yn P-Please! Y-You don’t mean that r-right? You can’t! Y-You love me! Just me! And no one else! We need to get rid of this baby!” He rambles on like a madman and as your brain register his words his last sentence hits you and your eyes widen in disbelief.

Why are you even surprised? Even though you knew he was going to say that? it just hurts a little bit more hearing it coming from his own mouth without any hesitation.

“W-What?! A-Are you hearing yourself Jungkook? You-You’re suggesting that I-I kill my unborn child?” Tears well up in your eyes, and they immediately start to fall down your cheeks at Jungkook’s suggestion. You avert your gaze away from Jungkook’s crazed eyes.

“You’re a sick bastard! Fucking monster!” You sob at him. Your curses don’t seem to affect him, it is like he has gone numb, the irony. He stands still.

“No. one. can. come. between. us.” Jungkook’s silent whispers could be heard by you. You massaged your temples, now there was only one option left.

“If this baby dies then I’ll die with it. And if you don’t want this baby..” you take in a breath. He always gets your blood pressure so high.

“If you don’t want this baby that means you don’t want me either, so I will just divorce you because I have been thinking about it. you are becoming too much for me to deal with it’s time you fucking grow Up!”

“I will have this baby because this is the only ray of hope in my life. Now, it’s your choice, Jungkook.” Your words come out of your mouth carefully. You wait for his response.

But all you get is silence.

When he doesn’t respond you decid to leave the room, but a loud sob holds you back. Did you mention that your husband is actually pathetic and good for nothing?

Yes, he’s rich but, so what? Yes, he handsome in the first man you loved but now you’re beginning to regret it.

His rough screams for you please you, oddly his suffering pleases you to the core.

It was about time he suffered.

“B-Be careful Y/N!” Jungkook instructs you while you laid down on the bed, your hands coming to caress your 6 months pregnant belly. His eyes are fixated on your movements, never left your belly as he smiled softly.

“Y/N just one month is left until our baby is here!” Soft giggles left his mouth as he laid beside you and caresses your stomach. “You look so beautiful like this! You’re pregnant with my child. You’ll be the mother of my child. We’re going to be parents! Now, everyone would know that you’re mine! This baby will make us inseparable, y-you won’t be able to leave me now!” Another chuckle vibrates from his chest.

You’re not sure what has happened to him these past few months but you’re glad that there’s improvement.

Maybe it was your threat to divorce and that got his head straight.

But meanwhile…

He could look at you forever and not get bored. You look so ethereal with your belly swollen because of him. He made you like this. The thought of that really pleases him.

Now you couldn’t ever think of leaving him! This child has bounded you to Jungkook forever.

Your tired voice brings him back to reality, “Jungkook he’s going to be so beautiful and cute! I love the little shoes that your parents bought for him oh! And his little clothes?? And the baby bathtub? His nursery is by far my most favourite! My lovely son! I can’t wait to meet you! Mommy loves you so much!” You talked to the baby. An exciting smile gracing your features.

Yeah, it’s a little boy. And his parents are so excited for their first grandchild.

Everyone is excited about him, even his friends are excited to become uncles.

He doesn’t understand what is the breed about having a little child, because all they do is cry and fuss. And poop.

Jungkook scoffs at you cooing at the child who wasn’t even born yet. You used to coo at him like this. Jungkook was supposed to be your baby! Jealousy slowly starts to creep up again.

He needs to stay calm. But how can when his brain is just refusing to give him any peace.

A thousand scenarios run through his mind. What if you don’t love him anymore? Or what if you will give the baby more attention than Jungkook? Or worse, what if the baby will completely take his place in your heart? And worst of all, what if you completely forget about him?

“Kook! Jungkook! Your phones buzzing! It’s Eunwoo!” You shake his shoulders to get his attention, your husband has a tendency to zone out.

You couldn’t help but wonder about what he’s thinking about so focused?

“Jungkook!” your tone got louder this time. Jungkook finally blinked as he smile at you.

“O-Oh I’m so sorry Y/N! Please pass me my phone, princess?” You decide to let go the urge of asking what was he thinking so deeply about and pass him the phone.

Jungkook kisses your lips quickly as he excuses himself out. You nod, and he smiles brightly while picking up the phone. You then focus on the book.

It makes sure that he’s away from you. The large house has a lot of benefits to it, whenever he wants to complain? he can just come in one of the rooms and scream.

As soon as he leaves the room a cry left him. “Eunwoo! I-I need your help! I-I don’t want this baby! He will steal Y/N away from me! N-No that can’t happen! Help me please! Y-Y/N is already slipping away from my grip! Help me get rid of this baby! Please!” Jungkook rambles on like a maniac through the phone while on the other line, Eunwoo sighs heavily.

“calm down first.” He spoke timidly. Jungkook took a deep breath. He’s right, Jungkook needs to get a grip on himself first.

“Now listen, we talked about this.” Eunwoo’s tone changed. “W-What!?” The long haired male rolls his eyes, because he knows he’s about to get lectured But a lecture is not what he needs. Jungkook needs a solution to his problem.

“I don’t think you should do something so immoral like that…” Jungkook got confused. What is he talking about?

“W-We can’t kill him! Y-Y/N wouldn’t want that! N-No!” Jungkook clearified. Jungkook couldn’t displease you.

“What are you implying?” Eunwoo took in a deep breath.. “having a child with her is a good thing, kook. That’s what I’ve been trying to make you understand… she will be with you forever.”

Of course you will be with him forever because it’s not like he will let you divorce him but why does everyone keep saying that a child will make your relationship only stronger?

You don’t even touch him.. anymore. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration catching up to him. Maybe everyone is right.

Jungkook’s eyes widen at eunwoo’s voice. He’s not exactly wrong though. Jungkook take some moment to think about this all over again.

He did read on the Internet that sex will help induce labor-and if he will tell you that you will definitely give in to him. He cannot believe that he’s thinking about that right now, but he can’t help it.

There’s still three months left in your delivery. He can wait for three months, right? Or maybe he could just seduce you into bed tonight.

Why are you not horny. Women tend to get really hormonal with your hormonal issues. Don’t have anything to do with your sex drive.

He will fix that.

A dirty smile is now on Jungkook’s face. He holds the phone tighter as he speaks the final words to eunwoo.

“Thanks man! For always helping me! I owe you.” He smiles and sighes.

You have always given him what he wanted, jungkook he always managed to get his way with you, so maybe this time it should be you in his place.

“No problem man! It’s just like how you helped me get my girl… Seeing you like this with yn makes me remember when I was at your place... but I am glad that you have understood because she deserves to be happy..”

Jungkook chuckles loudly. “Of course! What are brothers for?” Jungkook’s eyes darken, because he knows that as much as eunwoo would like to think that he’s different from jungkook, he’s not.

He’s also right about the fact that you deserve to be happy. That’s why he’s been so hopeful supportive during your pregnancy.

“Let’s see when the baby comes..”and after saying goodbye to his friend? Jungkook walks back to your shared bedroom.

There you are, hand on your belly and your eyes scrunched together at the book you’re reading. He smiles at the sight.

No one could ever come between you and him. Not even his own blood. He belonged to you and you belonged to him. And the baby can never come between you and Jungkook.

You will have to decide the baby’s fate.

It all depends on you now.

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blingblong55 · 5 months

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Happiness -Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Photo Credits: @ave661

---- F!Reader, angst, divorce, ex-husband!Simon, dad!Simon ----

A/N: Blaming the talented writers on here that wrote on ex-husband!Simon a while back for this

Ten years, eight of them lived as his wife and four of them as the mother to his child. Now, you and he sit on the stools of the kitchen island, tears in both your eyes as you two come to terms that your marriage is over. No one cheated, no one was toxic but the one thing that they couldn't see coming was that sometimes, love runs out. He and you stopped doing all the cute stuff together, it became stale and dead. "I'm so sorry," he whispers, holding your hand as you look down crying. "I guess it happens," you whisper back. But it shouldn't have. Not to you and not to him.

You were supposed to grow old together, watch your child grow old, measure his height by the door frame, and watch Simon give his advice for when your son gets his first girlfriend. It was a plan, to sit by the fireplace when you'd both enter your fifties, reminisce on the past and laugh at the cringe things you both did when young. "I'll make sure the divorce goes smooth, I'll...find a place and visit every day. I swear to be the best at...co-parenting," he says with care. "I know, Simon," you grip his hand.

It's a bittersweet moment, nearly five years ago, you sat him down in this exact place and held his hand with teary eyes as you told him you were pregnant. "Oh...oh my love, I'm going to be a dad!" The kiss he gave you knowing romance films would never compare to that kiss. Now, as you sit in silence, you can't help but cry a different kind of tears. Ten years of your life spent with him spent loving and getting to know him. They say, that to love is to know someone and you know and love him very well so, that is how you find yourself hugging him. Simon's hold on you is so hard yet filled with sadness and care.

"I love you!" you laugh as you run around the sofa. Simon chasing you and laughing. He had started it, the 'I love you more' competition and when you whispered, 'I love you best' he began to tickle you. "If you say I win, I'll stop tickling you," he laughs. "Never!" your laughter loud as you try and push him off. "Very well then, lovely," he chuckles. After one push, that is where you find yourself running around the home you built with him.

As you walk past the now cold sofa, you picture that night. Picture the mornings, days, afternoons and midnights where he and you kissed, cuddled, shared secrets, tears and laughs. What a sour taste did it bring to you. "I'll always love you," you whisper to the memory. Simon is out the door and on the road, finding someplace to stay for the night. In moments like these, he would seek for you but now, he must learn to be strong without you, something rather hard.

[6 Months later]

A knock on your door as Simon comes to pick up your son. "It's opened!" you call out from the kitchen. His little boy, running to the door and smiling. "Daddy!" the young boy smiles and reaches for him, the image in front of you, melting your heart as you watch father and son share a moment. Your heart aches. Why didn't you fight? Cry and beg for him to think it through? No, but you want him to be happy and if he was unhappy in your marriage then you can't for him to stay or love you.

It's been nine days since the divorce was finalised, you nor he told any of your friends. Kept it all to yourselves and went through grief alone. You drink wine alone in the afternoons now, he watches shit comedy specials alone. And when either of you turns to the side he or you occupied, the feeling comes back. No more shit-talking about the comedian, no more asking for another glass of wine. What if he is someone you'll never move on from? What if you're someone he never mentions?

What if you two were blind and it wasn't that love ran out?

Fuck...why must this hurt.

"R/N, y'alright?" his voice interrupts you.

No, I'm not and I miss you like never before. I miss your kisses, your whispers and your dirty jokes. I miss your mornings, I miss our mornings. Love me, please...please love me.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just trying to remember my schedule today," your voice soft. He nods, "Yeah, well, me and the lad will be out. Call you if needed and call me if you need me." He says before leaving through the door. "Mm-hmm," you play bravely and watch him leave. As you sit on the sofa, you cry. You can't let him leave, not when you have poems, love letters and sweet nothings to tell him. Not when you still want to share your life with him. You walk to the door and go for the handle but hesitate.

What if he moved on? What if he loves another?

[Simon's POV]

I step out, buckle my kid in and as I hear him laugh, I remember his second favourite toy is still in her home. Will she let me back in? Can she?... Now I'm wondering if she ever cared. Why did I fight for her? Why must I let her leave so easily? What if my love finds some man who tries to play house with my son and my girl? No, fuck that it won't happen. As I reach for her front door, I stop. My R/N, why must you feel so far and yet feel so close to me?

Don't be stupid, she probably moved on. It's been six months, surely she is fine. But if she isn't? Then, I can still be the shoulder she leans on, I can be the chest she cries in, "Daddy, let's go!" Fuck, that's right.

On the drive to the park, my mind wanders to her. Her smile, the way she was insecure of the stretch marks but she would fluster when I kissed them. Ten years ago, I met her in this park, kissed her here, walked with her here when she was pregnant and watched our son take his first steps here. Now, I walk with my son but not with her by my side. A woman approaches, me, we talk and soon after I leave. R/N must be home or out. I wonder if she still sings her makeup steps when getting ready.

Does she still remember how I kissed her? How did my body feel against hers? I wonder if she misses me like how I miss her. Does she want to kiss me? Get back together? I hope no other guy wins her heart like I did. I hope no guy knows she loves to be kissed when her favourite song comes up and how she loves it when dirty jokes are told to her in whispers. I hope no guy watches her dance in a dress and adores her, those curves she got when she became a mother, the smile and the laugh when she gets nervous.

I wonder if she knows I know her better than anyone. That my love beats any movie on the screen. I read all her favourite books so she'd think I was cool or that I read them to do the things the characters did and watch her fall for me more. Why didn't I tell her that day that I wasn't falling out of love but rather I was scared she would leave me? Fuck..

"Simon?" her delicate voice. If the heavens could speak, she would be the voice of them. "Sorry, I..." tell her you fool! Tell her you love her, that you miss her lips, her wit, her clumsiness and how she gives you a puppy stare when she can't reach the top shelf. "Yeah...uh, I forgot his...uh...his other toy and he has been asking about it." FUCKING COWARD!

[Your POV]

It was earlier than expected but he brought your son home earlier than usual. "I'll go get it for you," you say and walk upstairs. Meanwhile, he looks at the photos at the entrance. What were once photos of you three are now you and your son. "Here it is," you say as you hand him the toy. "Thanks, love," he mumbles as he leaves once more. Before you can close the door, "Simon?" your voice with hope. "Yes?" he turns around, a faint smile on him. Oh those eyes, his beautiful eyes. "...drive safe..." you want to mentally slap yourself. "Yes, love," he nods and walks back to his car.

To build a home, to walk away and to miss it. Simon Joseph Riley and R/N...formally R/N Riley, now miss home. A home that was found in each other's arms.

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ashwhowrites · 7 months

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Older! Eddie Munson x reader where Eddie and Y/N flirt with each other until one night, the two of them end up having sex (they were drinking), and Y/N is afraid that Eddie didn't like her and that he was just drunk and she starts ignoring him, and Eddie feels hurt bc he likes her, and when he gets to talk to her again, they end up having sex and confessing

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting <3

⚠️ smut

Girl next door

Y/N has lived alone ever since she turned eighteen, she wanted independence from her parents and to be on her own. She rented out a tiny little house in a quiet neighborhood, and that's when she met the Munsons. Eddie and Claire Munson, a couple that Y/N found herself watching from her window.

They fought constantly, and their loud voices filled the neighborhood. She could hear Claire slam the front door every single time she ran out. She'd come back the next day, but just to fight and leave all over again. It was a marriage that never seemed to have a good day.

Eddie Munson caught her eye the most. His long hair, his mature face, the small amount of facial hair she craved to feel against her. His brown eyes, the eyes that she imagined looking up at her between her thighs. He was a wet dream and she had many.

She wondered what he did on the nights his wife left. Did he sleep in their bed alone? Did he miss her or thankful she was gone?

Y/N knew it was inappropriate to not only have a crush on her older neighbor but even worse to have a crush on a married one. But she couldn't help it.

He filled her mind all the time.

When she was in the shower, her hands between her thighs as she leaned against the wall. The image of him behind her, his chest against her back.

When she stood in her kitchen, the window gave her the perfect spot to watch him work in the yard. His white tank top clung to his wet skin, and his hair tied up. His tattoos glistened up and down his arms.

When she tried to sleep but the ache from her cunt kept her restless. When she pushed a pillow between her legs and moved her hips down on it. Her hand slipped under her shirt as she felt her chest. She'll never forget when she reached toward her window, just inches above her bed, peeled back the curtain, and saw right into their bedroom. Her hips froze on her pillow as she watched him jerk off. His shirt was pushed up on his chest, giving her the glory of seeing his stomach clenching as his hand worked on his cock. She barely noticed that she started moving on her pillow again. Her eyes glued on him as she rubbed her cunt against the soft fabric. His eyes clenched and his head thrown back, the white ropes of cum landing on his stomach. The way his eyes looked over, staring right back at her as she came in her underwear. She immediately moved the curtains back, embarrassment in her body when she realized what she had done.

But nothing ever happened and she never spoke to him. It was a cat-and-mouse game, almost. Sneaking looks at each other through the windows.

After a year, on her nineteenth birthday, Claire left for good. Y/N watched as she threw her bags in the car. Y/N kept an eye on their driveway for months, but Claire never came back. She assumed the couple got the divorce that was needed.

But with Claire gone, Eddie went outside more often. And a few times, Y/N found herself in conversation with him. She cursed herself for being attracted to him even more. He was even more beautiful up close.

Eddie invited her in for a beer on a random Friday night. And they got closer. She learned about his life, and he learned about her. He knew she was young, and apologized if it was weird to invite her in. But she didn't care and he honestly didn't either.

On her twenty-first birthday, he declared it was his duty as a friend to take her to the bar. A year passed of her hanging out with him almost every day, and she couldn't stop herself from falling in love with him. He was older, divorced, and at a different stage in life than her. But that made her want him more. She just feared maybe for him it didn't go past sexual tension.

"You look amazing!" He complimented, a smile on his face as she twirled in her dress. Neither knew her dress would be thrown to the floor in the backseat of his car.

She was drunk and he was drunk, both stumbling in his car. Then before she knew it, their lips met in a heated kiss. They were rushed as they tore each other's clothes off. Their tongues tangled together as Y/N took off Eddie's belt and unzipped his jeans. Her body lay against his seat as he settled on top of her, his cock buried in her as he fucked her. She loved the way he stretched her open, his nails dug into her sides, and his mouth attacking her neck. Her brain melted, all she could do was lay back and let him have his way with her.

"How long have you been thinking about this, huh? Don't think I don't see you watching me all the time." He teased, his voice mocking. "Fuck, baby. You feel so good clenching around my cock. Sweet tight cunt."

She whimpered from his words, her hand moving down to her clit. She gasped as she rubbed her clit, moaning into Eddie's face as she felt herself getting close.

She came as the car shook and the windows fogged.

~~~

That was a week ago.

She barely remembers how she got home, but she remembered the feeling of his cock inside of her.

But she's been too scared to see him since. When she woke up alone in her head, the feeling of his skin ghosted her.

She was afraid it meant nothing to him. That he was drunk and didn't mean it. He wasn't interested and she was too young. She couldn't handle the rejection.

She avoided him as much as she could. When she went out to grab her mail the next morning, he was walking over with a smile on his face. She panicked and raced inside.

Or when she was tanning in her backyard and he walked out to grill. Before he could say a word she raced back inside.

Every day she was close to him but she ran away every time.

~~~

Eddie was puzzled by Y/N's behavior. He thought they had a good night together and to him, the sex was the best he's ever had. He could still feel her lips and the way she clenched around him. But anytime he got close to her, she ran away.

He hated to admit he was upset. He didn't plan to date after his divorce, but Y/N was different. She made him feel things he'd never felt. She felt amazing underneath his body and how she came all over him. The lust in her eyes and smeared lipstick.

He liked this girl and now she won't even look at him. Was it just a little fling for her? Like getting the older guy for fun but nothing serious?

Eddie refused to let another weak pass without clearing the air. He wasn't going to let her ignore him.

He grabbed a case of beer and walked over. He hated that he was a man in his 40s, and scared to talk to a fucking girl.

He knocked on the door, impatiently waiting.

Y/N was shocked to see Eddie on the other side of her door. She didn't know what to say.

"Can we talk? I brought beer." Eddie suggested, holding up his case of beer. Y/N stepped aside, she hid from him long enough and now she needs to be an adult.

They went to her living room. Eddie cracked open the beer and handed her one, then cracked his own. He sat next to her and took a deep breath.

"Why are you avoiding me?" Eddie asked, he tried to sound soft but he couldn't help but sound annoyed.

"I'm not." She shrugged, avoiding his eyes as she looked around the room.

"Knock it off, you ran away every time I got near you. And I thought you were mature and I thought you weren't a teenage girl. But I see I'm wrong." Eddie scoffed. She shrunk in her seat, hating the scolding tone in his voice.

"I don't know if it's because we have different generations or shit, but the way I was raised was when you fuck someone, you don't ghost them. I don't know if that's a younger group type of thing. Where you mess around with no feelings involved. So I can sit here and assume these things about you, or you could speak up and tell me what the hell is going on." Eddie snapped.

Y/N couldn't help but feel turned on by the way he was scolding her. His voice was rough and sharp. She almost wanted him to ruin her and tell her everything she did wrong. She placed her beer on the floor, moving over to his lap.

Eddie watched her confused as she sat in his lap. She grabbed the beer from his hand and moved it to the floor. She took his empty hands and placed them on her back, right above her ass.

"Did I make you mad?" She mocked, her lips moving down his jaw. Her hands moved up and down his chest.

"Yes." He spat, his right hand moving off her body, to slam down on her ass. Y/N moaned and jolted forward. Her cunt brushed over his hard cock.

"I'm sorry for being such a brat about it. Maybe I need to be taught a lesson in manners?" Her bottom lip pouted as her hands moved into his hair, yanking on his curls. He clenched his jaw as his head yanked back. His eyes were on her.

"You want me to teach you?" He played along, his hands gripping her ass.

He quickly switched positions, throwing her on the couch, her knees on the cushions and her body bent over it. He stood behind her, wasting no time to yank down her shorts. He slapped her ass once more. Bending down to bite her unmarked ass cheek.

"Now baby, when I fucked you in my car like the slut you are, did you like it?" He asked, his hand moving her underwear to the side. His finger slowly rubbed her clit.

"Yes, sir." She moaned, her mind already melting as his fingers slipped inside of her. She was soaked and embarrassed.

"And don't you think it would have been polite to tell me that?" His fingers fucked inside of her nice and slow. Her wetness dripped down his palm and her thighs.

"Yes, sir." She gripped the couch as he sped up. The sounds of her wet cunt echoed around them.

"But you decided to be a little bitch and hide from me," Eddie growled, his free hand moving to her chest, and squeezing her breast.

"Now what should you say about that?"

"I'm sorry!" She gasped out, he was fucking her hard, his fingers scissoring inside of her.

"Good girl" he praised, kissing down her spine.

"Want your cock." She begged, reaching behind her. But Eddie grabbed her hand and held it against her back. Leaning down towards her ear.

"Oh no, brats don't get my cock. Especially brats who act like I don't exist." Eddie said

"I'm sorry! I am!" She begged but he refused. Sliding his fingers in and out of her as fast as he could. His other hand reached down to rub her clit.

"Why did you do it?" Eddie pushed, he could feel her cunt clenching around him. He knew she was getting close.

"I...I" all she could do was stutter and moan. Her head spun as she felt her orgasm building. His fingers circled her clit perfectly.

"Tell me or you don't get to cum."

"Please, I need to cum!" She begged but he didn't slow down. Forcing her body to get close.

"Say it!"

"I WAS SCARED! I didn't want you to reject me and I like you and fuck, I've liked you for so long." Her orgasm was right there, two more circles on her clit and she'd be cumming. "I was scared it was only because you were drunk and I'd be too young to have a relationship with you. Scared it was sex and that's it." She panted. "Didn't want to be a young fuck FOR YOU!" she screamed as she came, he fingered her through it. He touched her clit with the perfect amount of pressure and attention. She clawed at the couch as she soaked his fingers.

"That's a good girl. Keep cumming, baby. Give it all to me." He praised, fingering her slowly as he helped her ride it out. Her hips pushed back on his fingers as she rode his fingers.

She fell onto the couch, her body weak. Eddie slipped his fingers out of her, moving her underwear over to soak up her wetness. He gave her covered cunt a harsh slap. He turned her around, his hand on her neck as she faced him. Her face was red as she panted.

"My pretty girl, so much more than a young fuck." He said, his knees on either side of her as he placed himself above her lap.

"Really?" She whimpered out, her voice insecure and weak.

"Mhhm, I like you too. And I've liked you for years. Sure, a young pretty girl catches the eye of the neighbor in a troubled marriage. Teases me through the windows, thinks of me when you masturbate, and even watches me jerk off. Practically a porno in the making. " He teased, a smile on his face. "But what if the older neighbor admitted to his wife there was another woman stuck in his head? So she left. And I finally went after you, I made all the moves and we became friends. We got drunk and had the best sex of our lives. And it was great because there were feelings from both of us." He continued.

"I like you, and it killed me to watch you run away from me." He admitted, his fingers tracing her face.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." She apologized, her hand covering his on her face.

"It's okay, I was scared too."

"Does this mean I get to date my extremely sexy older neighbor?" She asked, wiggling her eyebrows. A warm feeling in her stomach as Eddie laughed.

"Mhhm definitely." He whispered, leaning down to smash his lips on hers.

For the first time, they spent the night together. Her head was on his chest, his fingers playing with her hair. Eddie felt loved and wanted, two things he didn't have in his marriage but he found it in the girl next door.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson fluff x female reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut x female reader #older!eddie munson x female reader #older!eddie munson x neighbor!reader #ashwhowrites

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heavyhitterheaux · 2 months

Text

Baby Blues

First Lady of Private Garden Fic

AN: mature topic ahead, mentions of postpartum depression

Synopsis: The two of you are at odds once again, and deep down, Jack knows that there is something wrong with his wife but can't figure out what it is. He makes it his mission to get down to the bottom of it in order to help you.

Pairing: Husband!Jack Harlow x Wife!Reader

The full fic to this concept

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

You massaged your temples as you sat down on your bed finally able to take a breather. All three babies had been officially home for two months and instead of it getting easier, you felt as if it was getting harder. Jack had been sent to the store by you to get more formula since your milk supply hadn't been that great lately. Probably due to the fact that you were barely eating, but that was another conversation.

The hope was that they would at least sleep for two hours so that you could lay down yourself, but you knew that it probably wouldn’t work out in your favor. You and Jack were still at odds and it would be sometimes awkward with both of you at home with the triplets which was 98% of the time. After almost losing you, that definitely took a toll on him, but the two of you would still argue about unnecessary things that wouldn't matter twenty four hours later.

In your mind you were trying your absolute hardest while trying to recover from having them since it hadn't been anything but easy. At this point, you didn't want to divorce him. Possibly legal separation, but the thought of divorcing him completely had never crossed your mind. Despite what had gone on in your marriage, at the end of the day you still loved him and couldn't see yourself living without him.

The front door opened indicating that Jack was back and you soon heard his footsteps as he made his way upstairs. He peeked in your bedroom and saw you sitting on the bed and staring off into space.

He leaned down to place a kiss on your forehead and you gave him a weak smile.

“You feel okay, today?” He asked as he sat down next to you, but you just shrugged.

“I don't know. I just…” You got quiet and didn’t finish your sentence.

“Baby, I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong.” Jack replied as he grabbed your hand to place in his.

“I don't need any help. I'm fine.”

“Y/N, why are we doing this again? You're shutting me out and I'm trying to understand what is happening with my wife.”

“Hmm, so now you want to try and understand? You weren't concerned with how I felt basically the entire year in 2022 so why now?”

“I already apologized for that and I thought we moved past that.”

“Who moved past it? Because I didn't.”

“Why do we ALWAYS do this?” Jack exclaimed while throwing his hands up towards you, but all you did was attempt to put your excuse of hair into a ponytail because you didn’t know the last time you actually brushed it.

“We always don’t do anything, you brought it up so I answered your question.” You fired back while looking at the two mismatched socks on your feet.

“I’m trying here so the least you can do is cut me some slack!”

“Jackman, if this is what you call trying to at least attempt to act like you care about this marriage, this is one hell of a poor job.”

“Here we fucking go. Don’t you think that if I wanted a divorce or to separate from you that I would have done it already?” Jack asked and you could tell he was immediately filled with regret as his eyes went wide and all you did was stare at him.

“There’s still time to go to the courthouse today if that’s your heart’s desire since it’s only eleven in the morning. But let’s be serious I saved your fucking image because come the fuck on, I could have thrown your ass under the bus. No matter how you mistreated me and put your wife, someone that you gave your last name to on the back burner, I still did right by you. As much shit as you did and it wasn’t a secret, it got played out for the entire world to see but yet, I never spoke bad about you ONE TIME. Because as much as you constantly give me headaches, I love you and I do want to save this marriage. But if I’m the only one trying then fuck it. The one thing that really sticks out in my mind is when I actually did fight Anitta and you didn’t even ask me if I was okay, not once. Despite how she had acted towards me ever since she met me. I told you how I felt about her and all you did was ignore me in order to try and boost your career. The career that I helped you create, but whatever.” You simply shrugged your shoulders and tried to walk past Jack, but he caught your wrist and lightly tugged on it.

Deep down, he knew that he had been difficult towards you and it had been hard to process his emotions and Jack did feel some type of way about how he had treated you. He broke the one promise to you when you told him not to ever forget where he came from or the people that helped him get to where he was, but now he had done the exact opposite and the fame had got to his head.

It took him hearing it from his mother to finally realize it

“Y/N…. wait a second.”

All you did was turn to look up at him and let out a deep sigh.

“I promise to do better and do right by you….. And them. I’m sorry I just…. I know for a fact that I have to be better about expressing how I feel towards you and a few months ago, I thought that I was going to lose you forever. Please don’t ever think that I don’t love you because I do. I love you more than life itself and just for the past year I haven’t been the best husband that I could be and want to get back in your good graces and fix this. I’m tired of us fighting and we have three little ones that don’t need to grow up in a dysfunctional household. You know for a fact that divorce would never be an option for me on my end. I was serious when I asked you to marry me at nineteen and I’m still serious now.”

“It’s not just us anymore and they should always be your first thought.” You quietly said as you could hear through the baby monitor that they were awake.

“I’ll…. Go make an appointment with Fatima after I check on them.”

The two of you had been seeing a marriage counselor named Fatima and you could tell that she was genuine and also wanted the best for the two of you.

“That sounds like a good idea.” You quietly answered as you simply hugged yourself in your pink oversized sweater that Jack bought you years ago, not bothering to make eye contact with him.

“We’re going to get through this, baby. One step at a time.” Jack quietly said as he leaned down to kiss your forehead.

All you did was nod in response as you sat down on the bed and simply stared off into space.

Jack simply sighed as tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he walked out of your shared bedroom and was on his way to the triplets room when he pulled out his phone to do a quick google search.

He knew that something was wrong.

What are the signs of postpartum depression?

Insomnia.

Fatigue.

Poor appetite.

Mood swings.

Irritability.

As Jack kept reading the symptoms on the list, just about every one of them he had seen in you over the past month and he was kicking himself for not noticing sooner.

You were hurting and he was simply adding to it which was the last thing that he would have ever wanted to do. After checking on the triplets, he would text Fatima and look more into getting you help for this because this had to be the only explanation for what was going on with you. After coming home, you had been so happy and now it seems like a switch went off and you were the complete opposite. Jack quickly wiped away his tears before making his way into the triplets room to see Axel wide awake and staring at him. He quickly picked him up and cuddled him closer to his chest.

“Axel, I have to figure out what's going on with your mother and get her the help that she needs. I want for her to be able to see the three of you grow up, but if she keeps going how she is right now, that might not happen. I'm trying to be a better husband and a good father to you three, but I don't think I'm doing such a good job.” He quietly confessed as he brought him downstairs in order to make a bottle for him.

As he waited for it to heat up, he saw you come into the kitchen and attempted to take Axel from him. But you quickly heard his protests.

“Baby, go lay down. I got them. You're tired.”

“I'm fine. I can feed him.”

“Y/N, please just listen to me. Did you even sleep at all last night? You aren't fine.” Jack asked as you looked away from him and he knew that he had his answer.

“I need for you to rest. Don’t worry about them.”

“But…”

“Please don't argue with me. I know when my wife is tired.”

“Okay.” You quietly said as you made your way back upstairs.

When Jack had woken you up by kissing yojr forehead, it was starting to get dark outside and as you sat up in bed you simply sighed.

“Baby, come on. I ran bath water for you.” Jack didn't wait for a response as he grabbed your hand and led you into the bathroom and began to help you take off your clothes.

You glanced down at your scar across your abdomen and quickly looked away. It was still hard for you to look at seeing that you almost lost your life.

Jack helped you sit down in the bathtub and kissed your cheek and made sure you were settled.

“I'll get some clothes for you to wear and put them out on the bed and I'll order you some food. Wing Stop okay?”

You nodded your head as Jack left the bathroom, but he made sure to keep the door cracked in order to be able to hear you if you needed him. Ten minutes had probably passed before the tears started streaming down your face and they wouldn't stop no matter how hard you tried.

You were trying to stay quiet so that Jack wouldn't hear you, but he did once he had heard a loud sob. He immediately stopped what he was doing to go in the bathroom to check on you and the sight in front of him broke his heart.

“Baby, what's wrong? Why are you crying? Did something happen?”

At this point your knees were to your chest as your head was resting on top of them and your arms were hugging your legs as you continued to sob.

“Jack…” You started to say before letting out another sob.

“Yes? Baby, you're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong.” He asked again as he was now sitting on the side of the tub next to you.

“That's the problem! I don't know! I'm so sad all the time. Why do I feel like this?”

“We're going to get you help. Whatever I have to do I'm going to make sure that my wife is okay.”

“Do you promise?” You asked in a whisper as you turned to look at him.

“I promise. You aren't going to feel like this forever if I have anything to do with it. I want you to get back to being your happy bubbly self. I haven't left your side since you got pregnant and I'm not leaving now. We're going to get through this.” Jack told you as he brushed some of your hair out of your face that had fallen out of the ponytail.

You nodded as Jack grabbed the Mielle shampoo that you used for your hair and began to massage it through your scalp. He didn't even know the last time you had washed it and figured that he would do it for you so that it was one less thing that you had to worry about.

As Jack washed your hair for you and conditioned it, your thoughts were running rampant. The last thing you wanted was to feel like this and you wanted to be the best possible mother to the triplets. You deserved it and they deserved it with as hard as it was bringing them into this world and all that you went through.

After he had rinsed out your hair, he grabbed an old t-shirt to wrap around it in order for it to be able to dry as he helped you out of the bathtub. Once he did and you were facing him, he leaned down to place several kisses on your lips which you gladly accepted.

“I love you and you’re going to be okay. We're going to be okay.” He whispered and you immediately nodded.

“I love you too.”

“Let me help you get dressed so I can finish your hair for you. You want me to blow dry it or let it air dry?”

“Blow dry it, please.”

“The Harlow salon is officially in business.” Jack said and you couldn’t help but to let out a small laugh.

Once Jack had finished your hair for you and putting it up, he made sure that you ate and the two of you were now sitting against the headboard in your bedroom as he was flipping through channels on the TV. You simply went and laid your head on his chest as his arms wrapped around you and leaned down to kiss the top of your head.

“Thank you for being here for me today.” You quietly said and you hugged him tighter.

“You don't have to thank me. You're my baby and your well being is important to me. I'm always going to make sure that you're okay and I’m sorry that it took me so long to notice.”

“Notice what?”

“That my wife was hurting. You have postpartum depression, baby. I looked it up and you have almost every single symptom.”

“Oh.”

“At least we know now what's wrong and we can do what we need to do in order to get you help. You mean everything to me even though I haven't been the best at showing it. But I'm going to do better for you and them.”

You hadn't even looked up the symptoms of it, but was going to take Jack’s word for it.

“I just want to feel better and be a good mom.”

“You will feel better and you're already a good mom. You just need a little help right now and that's okay. This is more common than you think, but it's not going to be like this forever.”

“What if we have more kids and this happens again?”

“We don't need to worry about that right now. Let's just focus on getting through this first.”

You nodded your head in agreement as you turned your focus to the television and you started hearing small whimpers on the baby monitor. You made a motion to get up and Jack immediately tried to stop you.

“Babe, I can…”

“I got it. You let me rest a little bit and I feel better.”

“Are you sure?”

“Promise. I'm fine. Like you said it won't be like this forever.”

A few months later, you were sitting backstage with the triplets and Jack was due to perform along with a few other artists and he made it up in his mind that he wanted all of you to come with him. Ivy and Autumn were crawling around on their playmat with their toys while Axel was in your arms sleeping as you heard the door open and he walked in.

He leaned down to kiss you while also kissing Axel's forehead as he sat on the floor and both of the girls crawled over to him.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He asked as he was making faces at Ivy who was laughing.

“We're fine babe for the millionth time.” You responded while laughing and checking the time on your phone.

“Just making sure!” He said as he held up his hands in defense.

Jack made sure to block off a room backstage specifically for you and the triplets. Urban would pop in from time to time to check on you too so that way they wouldn't be overwhelmed with all of the noise. There was a screen in the room so that you along with the babies would be able to watch Jack’s performance.

“Aren't you supposed to be getting dressed?”

“I had to check on my wife and babies first. Yall are my priority. They can wait.”

Just then Urban stuck his head in the door and was looking at the both of you.

“Neelam is going to murder you in the next two minutes if you don't hurry up.”

“Tell her I'm coming!”

“That's what she said.” You muttered before busting out laughing and Jack and Urban just shook their heads at you.

“And you call me the unserious one.”

“But you are!”

“You know this is the first time in a while that I've gotten a genuine smile out of you.” Jack said while getting up and coming to sit next to you.

“And I have you to thank for that.” You said as you adjusted Axel in your arms.

“Just doing my husband duties. We're in this for the long run, baby.”

“And I wouldn't have it any other way.” You replied as Jack leaned down to kiss you, but was interrupted by Axel waking up and giving him a look.

“I… Axel fix your face. Your mom was mine first.” Jack exclaimed as you laughed at the face he was making at Jack.

Axel continued to stare him down before closing his eyes again and laying his head back down.

“You know you can't get mad. He is literally you in a baby's body. But back to what I was saying. You saved me in more ways than one so thank you smush.” You said as you leaned over to kiss him again.

“You're welcome, baby girl. If it's for you I'm going to do it without a second thought.”

Liked by jackharlow, urbanwyatt, danivalentine, generationnow, sza, theshaderoom, and 1,592,006 others

y/ninsta: jackharlow said today is the first time in a while that he got a genuine smile out of me, so I had to take a selfie. Postpartum depression is real, and I thank my husband from the bottom of my heart for recognizing what I was going through and that I needed help. I love this life that I get to live with him and my babies 💕

jackharlow: always in your corner, baby. forever and always.

urbanwyatt: SERVING LOOKS 😍😍

danivalentine: jackharlow thank you for taking care of my baby girl. she is so loved by you and everyone else around her. 🥹

saweetie: love you mamas and we always got your back

Comments on this post have been limited

#jack harlow #jack harlow fic #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x black reader #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow angst #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow fanfiction #jack harlow imagine

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gabessquishytum · 5 months

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On a beautiful winter morning, young Hob Gadling decided he was going to marry his imaginary friend, Dream. He had found a pretty shiny rock when he went to the beach in the summer, and with it and some snow, he fashions a ring for Dream. They get "married" with Hob's favorite stuffed animals & Dream's raven as witnesses.

The Hob moves away from the house with the forest for a backyard,,,,,,and grows up.

Hob is supposed to marry Alex in two days; Alex is fine. He's nice and seems to love Hob enough, and forgives Hob's "clinginess". Hob understands that his partners tend to find him clingy, but (honestly) Hob feels like he's missing something, misplaced something very important to him, so he holds everything the tighter for missing it. And if when Hob looks at Alex, he doesn't see husband that's because "husband" conjures up a blurry image of black and white and spiky hair?? and a raven.

It all comes to a head during the rehearsal at the church. Alex and Hob are standing in front of the church when the doors at the back blow open. In strides the most beautiful man Hob has ever seen. The man walks right up to Hob, calls him husband, and kisses him so well Hob brain turns off.

There's screaming, but Hob can't do anything but stare at the good kissing pretty man.

Holy shit I love this so much.

Turns out that Hob accidentally married one of the Old Gods when he was in the woods that day?? And for over a decade Dream has been imprisoned by magic so was unable to come and claim Hob when he came of age, but he just got out and the first thing he did was come to find his husband??? Hob is deeply confused by all of this, but at the same time many things begin to make sense. Like that feeling of loss. And the fact that he's never quite been able to imagine a life with Alex.

Maybe it's morally reprehensible to marry a child who thinks it's all a game, but then again, Dream is beyond human morality. He also took the form of a child at that time, so there was nothing untoward going on. He even (and Hob can see that Dream is very, very reluctant to do this) offers Hob the equivalent of a magical divorce. Which Hob vehemently refuses.

He's so enamoured with his husband. Dream is very tall, taller than any human, and he has the grace and figure of a king. He's got a different raven now, called Matthew, who perches among his locks of long spikey hair. He's beautiful, magical - everything Hob wants.

Alex is long gone, and Hob has honestly forgotten about him. Dream is going to take him back to the forest to renew their vows... and consummate the marriage at last!!! It feels like Hob’s life is really about to begin.

And yes, Dream will love him for his clingyness. And he'll cling back, just as hard.

#the sandman #dreamling

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onsunnyside · 2 years

Note

So while stepdad!aus aren’t my cup of tea I will posit the question to the group….

Isn’t Lloyd Hansen a very stepdad type of guy that gets into the family for some work purpose but ends up walking away with you? He’s just giving the vibe 😳

dear goodness… all holy beings look away

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | stepdad!Lloyd Hansen x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | age gap, stepcest, possessive behaviour, smut - minors dni, unprotected sex (p in v), daddy kink, spitting, lots of cum, breeding kink, overstimluation, p*ssy slapping, finger sucking, some praise, dumbification, degradation, dacryphilia, smidge of tear licking, squirting, creampie(s).

𝗪/𝗖 | 1510

🍆 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“T-Too full,” you try to get away, clawing at the bed sheets as his thick, red tip prods at your creamy hole, “can’t—not again.”

“You can,” Lloyd spits on your cunt as if you weren’t already a wet, sticky mess. His head traces up and down your slit, paying extra attention to your sensitive clit. “Remember? You promised me a special gift for Father’s Day.”

Through blurry vision, you spot the handmade card and photo album on his nightstand. That was the gift you spent weeks making, between fussing (and failing) with the card multiple times, and collecting and arranging the perfect album of your stepfather, Lloyd has been in the back of your mind in more ways than one.

The gift wasn’t your idea, it was your mother’s. She wanted Lloyd to feel welcomed to the family despite it all being business, just a marriage between two of the city’s most influential people for security, power and status.

She wanted him to feel at home and ultimately, like he belonged. And to do that, she wanted you to be a sweetheart, to create and gift it to him yourself.

“He’s your stepfather and the reason we aren’t back in that terrible place again.”

You know she didn’t think he’d fuck you in their shared bed.

“Remember when you used to avoid me? Go out whenever I was home, I heard you even wanted to skip the wedding.” He whispers in your ear, the low creamy tone makes you melt. “Thought you hated me—now look at you, taking my cock like a good girl.” He presses on your stomach, pinning you down as he pounds into your sloppy cunt. “So full of my cum, you gonna let me fill you up again, sunshine?”

“Didn’t hate you…” You trail off to a moan as he kisses your jaw, slowly working down your neck.

“Well, you didn’t like me either.” Lloyd murmurs against your skin, groaning as your legs wrap around his hips and pull him deeper. “Fuck—you were such a daddy’s girl, huh? Didn’t want me taking his spot?”

He wasn’t wrong. You weren’t sold on the newest addition to your family, especially so soon after your parents divorce and your father’s arrest. Regardless of how grateful your mother, and the rest of your siblings were, and Lloyd’s reputation and wealth, this new man would never amount to your father.

But as your mother stated, you needed the label, protection, and image.

She was a woman who never faltered, even with the rumors of her cheating husband, and his untimely arrest for fraud. She will stand unwavered, and unaffected by the publicity.

She remains steady with resolve, and will happily marry another high status man within a few months. Even if that man happened to be far worse than your father, neck deep in shady businesses and bad things. To the public, Lloyd was a clean, sophisticated CEO who was the perfect replacement for your cheating and lying father.

Right now, he’s your stepfather fucking you into the bed he shares with your mother, pumping you with another load while you squirt all over his length. He doesn’t stop or slow down, if anything, the oversensitivity makes him more ravenous. He loves watching you tremble on his cock, caught between begging for a break and pleading for more.

Your arms shoot out, yanking him down for a messy kiss full of clashing teeth and warm breaths. “Wanted you so badly. Please—don’t stop.” You moan, twitching under him when he pulls out, plugging you with the heavy tip before ramming forward.

With every thrust, your head brushes the headboard. Lloyd fucks his cum into you, forcing you to take the previous loads and his fat girth, he wants to mark you from the inside out. Your cries are music to his ears, he wishes he could watch his cum dribble out around his dick, and smear down your ass to the once-clean sheets. But, he doesn’t want to move, this position with your breasts against his chest, your fingers digging into his shoulders, and your pulsating walls milking his cock—if he had a choice, he’d never move.

“I know, your new daddy knows, baby.” He coos, lowering his body until his balls touch the filthiness between your thighs. He’s pressed to the hilt, you can practically feel him in your guts. With slow grinds, he watches as you sink into the mattress, small hiccuping breaths escape your parted lips. “Poor baby, those college boys don’t know how to fuck you. They don’t know how to stretch out this little pussy, make you a stupid mess—bet they leave you high and dry.”

You can’t do anything but take his pounding, tears trailing down your face as he rams into your spot. Your whole body tenses, and your cunt sucks him deeper, hungry for more despite there being no room left. Squelching noises bounce off the walls and make you cover your face, weeping into your hands as he splits you apart.

He leans back, and between your fingers, you watch his abs flex and his neck tense. A guttural groan rumbles from within his chest, a stark contrast to your blubbering of daddy, daddy, daddy. Lloyd moves your hands and brings one to his mouth, sucking your fingers and swirling his tongue.

“You’re going to come for me again.”

You immediately shake your head, but make no movements to escape, all too lost in the pleasure. Your hand is pulled from his mouth soaked with his salvia, and as if in slow motion, you watch him bring it to your cunt—and that’s when you try to get away.

Lloyd easily tugs you back, pounding harder and deeper. He’s rearranging your insides, pulling you to meet his thrusts, then reaching down to collect your cream that’s formed a ring around his base. He shoves his fingers between your lips, fucking your mouth as a mixture of your salvia and arousal drip from the corners of your lips.

“Look at you, getting fucked from both ends. All that’s missing is something in your ass.” He hooks your knee over his shoulder, stretching your sore hole, and exposing yourself to the hot air. You can only imagine how filthy you look down there. “Slap your clit before I do it for you.”

The next few moments have faded into one. Between his unrelenting thrusts shoving your sweaty body higher on the bed, and his demands of harder, and to spank your clit until it hurts—you fall over the egde again.

“I know no one knows how to make you do that. That’s it, such a good girl for daddy.” He leans back, watching you squirt and cover his lower half in your release. Your whole body convulses as a silent mewl pours from your mouth, tears of pleasure and pain stream down your face. His thrusts have slowed into thorough grinds as sticky strings connect your most intimate parts.

You allow him to move you as he pleases, dragging out your orgasm as it bleeds into another—you can barely breathe as he rubs your sore clit, his rough fingertips are cruel on your overworked button.

His face his inches away and blush blooms over his skin. “I’m going to leave your mother, and you’re going to come with me.” He promises, swooping down to kiss your tear-stained cheeks. Lloyd can’t reisst licking a few. “You’re going to be my little wife, and I’m going to fuck you like this everyday, fill this tight cunt with my cum, and you’re going to make me a real daddy.”

His hips rail forward as you lay a limp mess, still crying as he pumps you full. His cum spurts along your sore walls, trying to find space but there isn’t any left, and it seeps out around his girth, leaking down your ass and his heavy balls. These sheets will never be saved.

Then, the door downstairs opens, and your mother’s voice rings out.

Lloyd pulls back with a smile, sweat brimming at his hairline. “Looks like it’s time to share the news, pumpkin.” He takes pride in your dazed expression, you probably can't even hear him now, let alone process his words. Slowly, he starts fucking his cum into you, desperate to knock you up for the final nail in the coffin of his marriage to your mother.

Wet noises seep into your foggy mind, playing dully in the background to your Lloyd-filled thoughts. He’s successfully fucked you stupid, and you’ve never felt so good.

Your cunt is filled to the brim, his seed coating your core, marking you with his scent and presence. Each grind sends shocks throughout your body, your pussy is a pathetic mess—there’s no doubt that he’s got you pregnant already—and that brief realization shoves you deeper under the surface of pleasure.

Lloyd groans as you start to meet his motion, although weak and stuttering, you silently tell him you want him too. “Or maybe, she should catch us, hm? Wouldn’t that be interesting?”

#daddy sorry daddy party #lloyd hansen #tw stepcest #Lloyd Hansen x reader #Lloyd Hansen smut #lloyd hansen fanfiction #Lloyd Hansen fanfic #Lloyd Hansen x reader smut #stepdad Lloyd hansen #stepdad!lloyd hansen #the gray man fanfic #chris evans #chris evans character x reader #chris evans characters #chris evans smut #chris evans x reader #sonny's stories #punkbcnes<3

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hangmanssunnies · 1 year

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Bones, Hearts, & Marriages

Summary: You and Javy "Coyote" Machado did not get married for the right reasons. Now, three years later, you are going to make sure that you two at least get divorced for the right reasons to make up for it. However, per usual, things don't always seem to go to plan when Coyote is involved.

(Thank you @bradshawsbitch for this stunning gif 🫶)

Pairings: Javy "Coyote" Machado x AFAB! Reader

Word count: 11k

AO3 link

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Marriage of convenice, PinV, Realistic intimacy conversations, implied plus size reader, insecurity, self image issues, Valentine's Day.

Please let me know if I missed any.

Authors Note: Oh gosh, I have been working on this for a while now. It was supposed to be posted for Valentie's Day, but then life happened. I love Coyote soo much, and I actually NEED him to be my husband or I will perish. Coyote Hangman BFF supremacy implied. As always, apologies for any mistakes.

Thank you so much if you take a chance to read this work. I hope you enjoy it. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

There was no question in your mind that your husband, Javy "Coyote" Machado, was your dream man, and most people would think that it is very lucky to be married to your dream man. Most people also wouldn't think falling in love with your husband was a terrible mistake. However, most people's husbands were in love with them back. You hadn't married Coyote because you loved him, and he certainly didn't marry you out of affection, either. The truth was, it was just a very convenient arrangement for the two of you. Javy hadn't wanted to live on base anymore, plus the benefits and pay for married men were better. Also, he was so tired of being bottom of the totem pole for vacations and holidays off to the aviators and sailors who were married or had families. For you, being married would change your financial aid status to receive almost three times more money each term. Having a clean, financially stable roommate was the cherry on top of the deal. You and Javy had really only known each other a few weeks when you had jokingly mentioned your need to get married. After several conversations where Coyote was deadly serious, you found yourself at the courthouse with him signing licenses and throwing a small party with your friends. Even now, nearly three years later, you would still catch yourself thinking about the sweet kiss he had bestowed on you.

To say you were unhappy with your marriage or your husband wouldn't be true. You were happy, and Javy was good, almost too good and kind to you. That itself could be an issue because it was so easy to slip into being his wife, being Mrs. Machado. Nowadays, it was second nature to snuggle up on the couch with him, celebrate your wins together, and seek him out for comfort with your losses. You would try anything new he would whip up in the kitchen and offer a detailed critique. It was natural to want to make Javy happy. You worry and care about him. Though you try not to make comparisons, you were pretty sure you missed him just as much as any other military spouses missed their partners anytime Coyote was gone. You never allowed yourself to consider the possibility of your marriage being more with Javy. It didn't take much for you to deter those thoughts; typically, just some extended longing looks at Javy paired with a glance in the mirror to remind you that Coyote was out of your league. No matter how often he would compliment or say that you were beautiful. Three years into this marriage, you two still had separate rooms and hadn't fallen in love or bed even once, despite your secret hopes, which was telling enough.

You and Javy were friends first, no matter what the other circumstances were. So, picking Coyote up from the bar certainly wasn't something unusual. This evening his texts, where most things were misspelled and littered with random emojis, made you thankful that he shared his location with you because they were borderline incomprehensible. He wasn't actually answering any of the questions you were asking either. It was there at the bar picking him up that you started to realize maybe the benefits of this marriage weren't enough anymore.

"Howdy, Mrs. Machado," Jake says affectionately when you enter the bar and found the group of familiar aviators that made up your husband's friends. You kiss his cheek in greeting, taking stock of his well-being, pleased to find Jake mostly sober.

"Hey, Hangman," You verbally answer, looking around for Coyote, wanting to get home and into bed as quickly as possible. His tall form isn't around the table with the other aviators, so you look back to Jake expectantly. "And where is Coyote?"

"Aw, little M&M, you don't even care about me anymore," Hangman says in a fake whine while pouting.

"That just isn't true," you say, rolling your eyes at the blond while continuing to look around the honestly concerningly dark bar.

"He's at the bartop," Jake finally supplies. You try hard to contain your frown, but you aren't fully successful. Javy had already been very drunk when he texted you earlier. Sighing, you turn to the bar, finally spotting the tall and broad shoulders you were looking for. He is on the back side, furthest away from you. It takes conscious effort not to let your eyes linger too long, lest you get caught up in just how tall, broad, and what a great ass your husband has. You wave a hand towards Hangman and the rest of the group in a half thanks and beeline to the bar.

Coyote is laughing with the bartender when you get there. You slide in close next to him, leaning in against the bar top. Javy's eyes flash a glance at you, away, and then back towards you as he turns to face you completely.

"Oh my god Mark, my wife is here!" Coyote says enthusiastically and at least two times louder than he needs to, considering how close you are standing.

"It's nice to meet you," Mark says, smiling at you. Javy wraps his arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him in a half hug so that he doesn't let you go after. His lips press to the side of your head that is lingering. You ignore how he nuzzles you and how warm and strong his arms feel, reminding yourself that Coyote is just a very affectionate drunk.

"Hi Coyote," You greet him, trying not to let the wide smile he gives you go straight to your heart. However, when his eyes crinkle, it was a fool's errand. You see that smile nearly every day, and it still manages to make heat blossom in your chest. Finally managing to tear your eyes off him again, you focus back on the conversation.

"It's nice to meet you, Mark. Has Lieutenant Machado paid his tab yet, or should I?" You ask, nudging Javy's side playfully. It has the opposite effect than you intended as Javy pulls you even closer and tighter into his side.

"He hasn't. In fact, he was just ordering another Shirley temple," Mark informs you. Shooting a halfhearted glare at Javy for ordering another drink this late, his grin hasn't dimmed once. Sloppily he raises the drink to his mouth, taking three attempts to finally find the straw and slurp up a large gulp. When he sees your frown, Javy sets the drink back down on the bar.

"It's a virgin," Coyote reassures you with a small laugh, no better than a schoolboy with what he finds funny sometimes. Once he manages to contain the giggle, he continues on, "I know better than to drink after 12:30."

That answer placates you as you start rummaging in your purse for a card to pay. However, when you go to hand over the card, it is smacked out of your hand. There wasn't any real force or aggression to the action, but it certainly was surprising, causing the metal rectangle to clank against the bar top.

"Javy!" You gasp in surprise, turning to see him glaring at you.

"You're not paying for anything when I'm around," he all but growls. His arm that is snug around your shoulder hasn't moved one bit, but his free hand is digging around his pocket, clearly looking for a wallet.

"Javy, sweetheart. It's okay. I know how you feel about this." You pick up the card from where it fell on the bar and show it to him. As you explain, the Navy Federal Credit Union logo is clearly visible for him now, "This is the card for our joint account."

Halting the digging in his pocket, he narrows his eyes to fully observe the card. Once he is convinced it's the card attached to his account, he weakly apologizes, "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, " you say as you pass over his soda and then nudge his side again. "Why don't you say goodbye to the boys. I will close your tab."

"You're not going to leave, right?" He asks you worriedly. His thumb brushes a broad stroke against your arm while he asks the question.

"Not without you, handsome." You reassure him, ignoring the small butterflies he still inspires in you.

"Promise?" Javy asks you in a small voice.

"I promise," you say. You squeeze his hand gently and then peel his arm off you.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise," you guarantee, hooking your pinky with his. A wide grin splits Javy's face again, and he kisses your forehead. Walking away, mostly steady on his feet, to say goodbye to his friends. Once you're sure he made it alright, you turn back to Mark.

"I'll grab his tab, and we might as well grab Seresin's Tab also. The blonde one over there," you request, gesturing back their direction.

"Sure thing," Mark says, offering you an easy smile and taking your card to run through the POS system. It's in that quiet moment in-between while paying when your whole night shifts. You hear a group of men a bit farther down the bar, but there weren't even any people between you and their gabbing. You were sure they were all drunk enough to think that the conversation wasn't one that could be overheard.

"That's Coyote's wife?" One asks in disbelief catching your attention.

"Yeah, I'm shocked every time," someone else confirms. You resist the urge to look over at the group and see which one of them had met you before or if they just knew because of Javy's previous yelling. It's not like you exactly played the part of trophy officer's wife very often like someone married to Javy should be.

"I don't understand," the first man says like he is trying to solve a very complex math problem. It's not an uncommon reconciliation someone might have to make seeing you and Javy together.

"There is no way Coyote settled for that," One of them says in disbelief. Their conversation is a dagger to your heart and self-esteem. While you knew that Coyote was out of your league, confirmation from someone outside yourself doesn't make it hurt less.

"Maybe she looked different when they first got together. You know a lot of women let themselves go after marriage."

"Well, she is kinda pretty… If that's what you're into." Gritting your teeth to keep from crying, you wish you could just disappear or that Mark would hurry up with your card so you can collect Javy and leave.

"Fair enough, but Coyote is a ten dude." Maybe it was more offensive that they thought you weren't aware of your husband's attractiveness than their opinions on your own looks. As if you weren't aware, like you didn't see Coyote shirtless daily or when he got home from his run and the gym. The 5-inch inseam shorts he wore on your last beach vacation and just how great his thighs looked haunted your dreams for months. As if you hadn't seen him in his dress whites, dress blues, and the Tuxedo he wore to his cousin's wedding last summer. You were very conscious, hyper-aware even, of how attractive Coyote is.

"You know who else has an ugly wife?" Someone interjects, and their conversation moves on. You wish it was as easy for you to move on. Of course, it's not the first time you have heard similar comments, but they still nearly bring you to tears every time. It's not fair so much importance is put on physical looks, on something you can't even fully control, despite what most people think.

You make eye contact with Mark, who is looking at you with something much too close to pity, while your card is processing. How he looks at you makes the pit in your stomach fall a bit lower like he agrees with them but would never say it. As if he is embarrassed that you were forced to endure hearing the truth on this matter. You manage to give him a smile, but it clearly is forced. Anyone thinking you weren't painfully aware of the discrepancies of attractiveness between you and your husband must also believe you are blind. When Mark gives you the receipt to sign, you quickly scribble a tip and your signature, wanting to escape as quickly as possible. As you shove your card into your purse, you finally look over to the group who made the comments trying to remember their faces in the din of the bar so that if you meet them again, you can avoid them at all costs.

You go back to Coyote, who is laughing so hard his shoulders are shaking, and his eyes are crinkled. You know that he isn't laughing at what you just heard. Javy's sense of duty regarding you and your sham of a marriage is boundless, and he hasn't hesitated to play the part of a protective husband before. However, you feel so sensitive now that part of you thinks he must be laughing at you. Despite how irrational it is, you can't fully push the thought away. Coyote must find it funny that he has gotten you to come pick him up. It's funny that people always view the discrepancies in your marriage in his favor.

As your feelings and thoughts start to spiral darker, your nails bite into your palms. The looming cloud over you is shoved to the side because Javy is making grabby hands at you. As a human embodiment of sunshine, something magnified by how carefree and open he is while drunk, it only takes that and a smile for the dread hanging over you to significantly lessen. Even though you don't feel quite as low as you did when leaving the bartop, you still aren't in high enough spirits to settle into Javy's welcoming embrace. His strong arms fall back to his side at your denial, which also dims his smile as he comes close to you.

"Are you ready to go, Coyote?" You ask, trying and failing to achieve the upbeat tone you were shooting for.

"No," he answers petulantly.

"No?"

"I want to dance before we go." He pouts, opening his arms wide again. You try to ignore all his friends' eyes on you and Hangman's amused sniggering. Javy is very affectionate when drunk, and it wouldn't shock you that Jake had been on the receiving end of that affection in the time it took you to get here to pick your husband up.

"We aren't dancing. We are going home," you respond, maybe a bit too curtly because all the joy in Javy's face is sucked away. Watching his grin become a frown and the mirth in his eyes drop just serves to add to the heavyweight you feel coiled up in your chest. The one that is always there but was aggravated by the conversation you overheard and will be as sensitive as an open wound for several days to come.

"Bye guys," Javy says halfheartedly, waving to his friends and now quickly striding to the door, not even waiting for you or checking if you are following. You look over to Hangman and shrug quickly, telling him that you got his tab too.

"Little M&M, you do care!" Jake gasps, pressing a hand to his heart.

"And don't you forget it," You say, while accepting his side hug.

"Thank you, honest. And you get my wingman home safe, please." Jake says, letting you go and shooting you a stellar smile. The rest of the group calls their well wishes, and You give one last wave before hustling after your husband. Coyote is standing, waiting near the door outside. You immediately start to walk to the car but turn around when you realize Javy hasn't moved.

"Can still hear the music out here," Javy mumbles.

"True, they must have an outside speaker." You say while backtracking to him again. Javy lifts a hand, settling it on your shoulder, then running it down your arm until his fingers tangle together with yours.

"Dance with me? Please." He requests again, and you can't say no with the way he is looking at you.

Setting down your purse on top of one of the outside tables, you hesitantly step closer into Javy's waiting arms. He hums contently the moment you are there. Singing along with the music into your ear, he holds you close. The dancing is little more than swaying together almost in time with the music. That doesn't really matter to you, though, because Javy is warm, and being this close to him makes you feel safe. Two songs pass that way. However, when a more upbeat tune comes on Coyote tries to spin you, nearly falling in the process, and you think it's probably time to get home.

He doesn't make any complaint getting into the car, except for insisting on carrying your purse and then holding it in his lap once his seatbelt is secured. While driving home, Javy is staring at you instead out of the window. He was so quiet at first you thought he had fallen asleep. However, when you cut your eyes over to him at a stop light, you are trapped in the deep brown of his gaze. You're lucky the roads are mostly abandoned because you nearly miss the green light you are so caught up in him.

"Do you ever wonder?" Javy eventually asks you.

"Wonder what?"

"About us. About this," He says, spinning and twisting his wedding ring. Javy had surprised you when he had come home one day with the matching bands only a few short weeks after you got married. There had hardly been an occasion since that he could be found not wearing it.

"I don't know. What is there to wonder about Javy?"

He blows out a long sigh through his nose, and your stomach clenches with anxiety. Javy had always been so resolute, so committed to this deal you two had. His steadfastness is what you would desperately cling to on the days that you felt like you conned him. Javy questioning your union suddenly shakes everything in you. Maybe he had heard what those men in the bar were saying after all. Perhaps after all this time, it was going to click for him that he shouldn't waste away in a loveless marriage, that he could do so much better than you.

"I suppose so. 'S Not like we could go back and change anything."

"Do you regret what we did?" You ask him, barely above a whisper. The quietness following your question is heavy, and the dark of the car makes it nearly suffocating. Javy's left hand peels your right hand away from the steering wheel, and he threads your fingers together tightly.

"No. I never regret," he says firmly. Neither of you utters another word on the way home, but Javy doesn't let go of your hand either.

The men's comments from the bar hang over you all night as you fitfully toss and turn, trying to sleep. You consider them beyond just the comments about your looks, but more about Javy and what he deserves. How he deserves something more than you. You want to keep him, but the more you think about it, the more wrong that seems. While meditating on your husband, you come to the decision there is nothing, not even your own comfort, that you care about more than seeing Javy "Coyote" Machado happy and in love. Something he will never be with you. You rationalize it's like a bone that had been allowed to heal the wrong way; the only way to remedy it and set it on the right path is to break it first. Bones, hearts, and marriages all practically the same thing.

You are buzzing with this revelation, and when you wake up the next morning, you know you can't wait. The sooner you get it over with, the better it would be for both of you. Still wearing pajamas, you go straight to the kitchen after waking up. You can hear Javy there making noise.

"Javy, I want a divorce," you declare more confidently than you feel. The words leave your mouth before you have even fully gone through the kitchen doorway. There is a clattering and your eyes are instantly drawn up from the floor near your feet where you had been focusing. Javy is standing by the counter wearing his Kiss the Cook apron and drops a knife he was holding.

He opens and closes his mouth twice before he finally says something. It sounds directed more toward himself than you. "I can't believe you just asked me for a divorce on Valentine's day."

"Is it Valentine's Day?" You ask him, shocked. Quickly pulling out your phone to check the date, the device confirms that it is absolutely February 14th. You can't believe you woke up and let the holiday sneak up on you.

"It is," he reaffirms, a deep frown marring his handsome features.

Guilt immediately floods through you because Javy loves Valentine's Day. He had openly admitted on your first anniversary that it was one of his favorite unexpected benefits of being married. He loved having someone to do all the typical Valentine's Day things with. Someone he was guaranteed to spend the day with. He wouldn't admit it, though you suspected he also liked that it was a day you were guaranteed to think of him. An added day to the calendar that he knew he wouldn't be forgotten.

There are not one or two, but three large bouquets of flowers scattered in the room. The table is all set up with a cloth covered in pink and white hearts. With a glance at the pan, you see the potato pancakes Javy is cooking as well as the sweet crepes arranged with strawberries he had cut to be heart-shaped. All of this on top of the various decorations littered around the room. The room is littered with evidence of Javy's joy for the holiday, almost decorated to the point of tackiness. Every part is thoughtful as well as endearing, and you hadn't even realized the day. Tears prick at your eyes while taking the whole thing in. He leads you to rest at your small round dining table his palm warm on your arm as he guides you.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't realize. I can ask again tomorrow, I guess." You say with a wobbly voice.

"No sweetheart, I don't want you to ask again." He says tightly. Javy isn't even sitting in the other chair. Instead, he kneels in front of you while holding your hands, looking so earnest. "Why do you want a divorce?"

"Well, the reasons we got married don't really apply to us anymore. You will still live off base now no matter what, at your rank, and I'm finally graduating." Javy's thumb is still swiping across the back of yours. You recognize it's wrong to take comfort from him right now, but you also can't help how you relax slightly which each stroke.

"Okay," he says slowly. Staring at you intently, you can see how hard Javy's brain is working to process the information you just threw at him. He traces over your face, then falls down to look at your joined hands. Javy squeezes your hands and drops them, sitting back on his heels, and you feel the dread seep in again, not having his steadying warmth so close anymore. "Can we dissect this together, please? You want a divorce?"

"Yes," you answer. He blows out a long heavy sigh, scrubbing his hands across his face as he sits in the chair on the other side of the table. Silence starts to stretch before Javy breaks it again.

"Have I been making you unhappy?"

"No. Not directly at least," You answer quickly, and it's not a lie. Javy himself is rarely the cause of your unhappiness.

"Indirectly then. And you have been unhappy?"

You think over his question and then start to think of a lie. You don't want to detail your feelings about this. Honesty would certainly lead to both your feelings being hurt more than necessary. You have been unhappy but in ways only of your own making. Wanting that which you could not have, fancying yourself a sort of Icarus.

"As much truth as you can spare me, please. Don't want to hear whatever lie you were just cooking up."

"It's more about the happiness we are cutting ourselves off from. The opportunities that we are missing."

The hold on the very neutral look Javy has been wearing slips, and he clenches his jaw hard. You are momentarily distracted by the flexing muscle, nearly forgetting the conversation at hand. The deep frown that pulls Javy's lips reorients your priorities, and you really wish this was a conversation that didn't have to happen face to handsome-distracting-gorgeous face.

"Is there someone else? Has Mrs. Machado's eye finally been caught after all these years?" Javy asks the questions more casually, curious than you are expecting. It does make you feel foolish to look for jealousy in his words. However, the idea of there being someone else is so funny you can't contain your dry chuckle.

"Our divorce is not a laughing matter!" Javy cries so indignantly it just makes you laugh harder. Then a few breaths later, his deep laugh intertwines with yours. It is not long until you are both breathless after the chuckles turned giggles turned howling. Javy is actively pushing away stray tears, and you are clutching your side, feeling a small stitch. Leaning back in his chair, he blows out a breath, sniffing in hard and breathing the air out in a measured way.

"Okay, well. This isn't something that can really happen today, is it?" Javy asks you.

"No. I guess not," you agree.

The corner of his right mouth quirks up then, and some of the severity eases on his face. "It's still valentines day then, and you're still my wife, so —" He trails off and reaches across the table, picking up an envelope that was sitting in the center, handing it to you. With shaky fingers, you open it. The card inside is almost more beautiful than any card Javy has ever given you. The front is covered in tasteful pastel hearts, gold foil, and your name. It's just as high quality as you knew it would be. You aren't sure where he has been buying these over the years but every card you have ever gotten from him is stunning. Seeing the inside filled with Javy's cramped writing with an extra sheet included almost moves you to tears, and you shove the card back in its envelope.

"I'll read that later," you mutter with a watery smile. Javy doesn't push you, which you are thankful for. Instead, he just holds out a hand, and you immediately grab it threading your fingers together.

"Will you be my valentine?" Javy asks you hopefully.

"Yes, of course, I will."

He grins, but it's not as wide as you would hope. There is still a clear air of somberness to him. "If you don't want to spend the day with me now I understand."

"Oh Javy, I'm so sorry. I should have thought through bringing this up to you much more than I did, including factoring in relevant holidays. Of course, I want to spend the day with you."

"No sweat, my Valentine. How about I finish cooking us breakfast then? I have the whole day planned, you know."

"Yes, I know," you say affectionately.

"Today's menu and itinerary can be found to your left," Javy informs you. His free hand gesturing to a small decorated chalkboard propped on the table. Then he lifts your joined hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the back of your palms. When he tries to detangle your fingers and stand from the table, but you stop him.

"Hold on. I have to go grab something."

"You already had papers drawn up?" He asks in a strained voice.

"No, I haven't. Let's set the divorce aside for the day okay?"

"That's a good idea," he agrees.

"I didn't completely forget about Valentine's Day. I just didn't remember this morning. Do you really think I would miss all the heart decorations all over the place? Or the 14 hearts you drew on the calendar." You ask him teasingly.

"Well, I don't want you to think you have to do anything."

"Javy," you sigh affectionately. Then telling him to stay put, you rush to your room and grab the wrapped gift youpicked out only days after new years. Coming back down, you excitedly plop the box in front of him on the table.

"This is so kind you didn't have to."

"I never mind doing anything for you Javy. Now stop delaying and opening it."

Obeying your command, he excitedly rips at the paper and into the box, searching for the gift. When he pulls it out, he smiles so wide his eyes crinkle, and everything is right again. "A candle of the month subscription?"

"I thought you might like it," you admit.

"With a wood wick," he sighs, opening the candle to smell it.

"And they let me put a list of all our no-no scents," you say.

"I love this, really. Thank you so much, sweetheart." Javy says while he reads over the little brochure that had been sent with the first candle.

"I'm so pleased you like it."

After that you finally allow Javy to finish cooking breakfast, making surprisingly easy conversation. It almost seems as if he truly has taken the temporary tabling of your divorce to heart. The day preceding light hearted and upbeat the rest of the morning, following the same patterns as years past.

You and Javy do have Valentine's traditions at this point, gifts, and the day spent together. The first Valentine’s you spent together he had made reservations at the fanciest restaurant in town weeks in advance. Only for the meal and service to be subpar, both of you agreeing Javy could have made something just as good if not better at home. In the years following, you two have still dressed up, but Javy makes the meal. Valentine's day is also one of the two days a year you are guaranteed kisses from Javy. He will drink too much wine, becoming affectionate and playful. Then he will pout about all the work he put into cooking, never in a way that makes you feel guilty. Huffing until you ask what he wants in repayment. Then Javy will always request the same thing. Each of the last four Valentine's days and all three of your wedding anniversaries, a kiss. It never stays at one kiss, but it has never been more than a heated make out session. It's something that neither of you ever brings up the next day.

You think it seems odd that you should make an exception to that tradition just because it's the last one. You hope that your foolishness of suggesting a divorcee on today of all days won't make an impact, but the more rational part of you knows it already has. Regardless, you still dress as nicely as you always do that evening for dinner.

The hallway into the kitchen and the kitchen itself are decorated with way too many mini candles to be considered wholly safe. The soft lighting is accented by the heavy aromas of Javy's cooking, making your mouth water slightly. Javy has a dress shirt on with the sleeves rolled to his elbows and has a towel thrown over his shoulder as he puts the final touches on some of the dishes. Glancing up as you enter the kitchen he freezes into place before straightening to his full height.

"You look beautiful," he utters, throwing the towel on a rack and striding across the kitchen to you.

"Oh come on Javy, don't make fun."

"I ain't making fun," Javy says, catching your hands and holding them tightly in his large warm palms. When he sees your disbelief, he repeats the words again, squeezing your hands urging you to believe him. With a breath, you accept his words the best you can. You had spent a lot of time deciding what to wear and were pleased with how the overall styling went.

"Thank you. You look very handsome. Are you an aviator or a model? We may never know."

"Why can't I be both?"

"Don't worry Coyote. I'm sure the day the Navy decides to do a shirtless Naval Aviator calendar you will be number one on their speed dial." Which makes him laugh as he pushes in your chair for you at the table. Then pressing a kiss to your forehead, he goes back to the kitchen.

"Callsigns at home, on Valentine's Day. Sweetheart, you are trying to break my heart." Javy teases, bringing over your plates. Paying him all his compliments due, You had only had the first few bites when Javy asks you a question that catches you off guard.

"What about health insurance?"

"What?" You splutter.

"What are you going to do for health insurance when we are divorced? You need that insurance, sweetheart."

"Javy, I thought we were leaving it."

"I can't leave it. I don't want a divorce. So, I'm sorry, but I can't leave it. Who's going to take you to your doctor's appointments? Where are you going to live? Am I moving, or you, or both of us? Are we selling the house?"

"I don't have it all figured out yet. It's something that we are going to have to do as we go along."

"I just don't understand what we would gain from this," Javy says, frustrated.

"Freedom!" You cry out, wishing you could find it in you to explain the twisting feeling, the dark and sad thoughts you had to endure in this marriage. Knowing you not only would never be enough but that you were less than. Your words make Javy stiffen like a board.

"I'm sorry. I didn't realize I had entrapped you into this relationship," The words are biting, and you wish a conversation could ever go the way you were hoping.

"It's not like that," You tell him quickly. "Don't you want the freedom to choose to be with who you want? Don't you want to date and not have to awkwardly explain that you're married to your roommate?"

"So there is someone else?"

"No, just you Javy."

"Can you tell me what it is about me that you don't love?" He asks you in a quiet way. Javy's eyes drop down to his plate and you feel his knee bouncing quickly. Your mouth goes completely dry, and you scramble to sip some water from the glass set out. After a big gulp you still aren't sure how to answer. But then Javy's shoulders slump slightly, you see part of him crumble, and you crumble with it. He deserves honesty, maybe more than anyone else you know, because Javy is straightforward, ambitious, loyal, funny, kind, and you love him.

"That's the problem. There isn't anything about you that I don't love Javy. And god, you would think after nearly four years married to you, I would have found something not to love. I honestly think you are more wonderful now than when we first met."

Javy's eyebrows draw together, and he clearly is struggling to process your confession. Then he lets out a sigh of relief, "Thank god, this is wonderful news. I love you too."

"Javy you could do so much better than me. You should be with someone who is on your level."

He laughs. Javy laughs, and you wish you could manifest yourself out of existence. But then he is out of his chair and crowding in close to you, hooking a finger under your chin lifting it so that you can no longer avoid his gaze. "Sweetheart, there is no one better than you."

Then slowly, so slowly, he leans in and catches your lips in a gentle kiss. A kiss before wine, and before a drawn out preamble. It was a kiss because Javy loved you with no other pretenses involved. He pulls away, and you suck in a heaving breath. His eyes study yours intently, and he leans in for another kiss. Meeting him halfway you wrap your arms around his neck, awkwardly pulling him closer while deepening the kiss.

Javy looms over you, and the angle makes your chair squeak shifting backward, trying to take the shifted weight. You are saved from falling completely thanks to your arms and his that instinctually wrapped around your waist. Once you are both steady on your feet and the danger of falling has passed, you meet Javy's eyes while biting your lip to keep the giggles in. He looks in a similar state of mirth, not able to stop smiling even as he presses kisses to your face.

"Do you know how hard it's been? Blissful torture every day of our marriage. Able to have you here, to see you, but not allowed to touch. And I have wanted to touch you for so long."

"Where do you want to touch Javy?"

"Oh everywhere sweetheart," he says roughly. His hands drifting from your waist over your ass and then starting to trace the shape of your thighs in slow appreciation. Just when you are finally getting to appreciate Javy's tongue against yours, his phone rings. He pulls away from you with a pained groan, glaring across the room. His phone is set on the furthest away counter that it can be practically tucked away. You know Javy would have had the phone turned off and tucked away if he was allowed. Pressing a kiss to your forehead, he strides quickly across the room and picks up the phone.

"This is Lieutenant Machado," The tone is stark and official. His eyes haven't moved from you, though. Then a tick forms in his jaw, and he grits out, "Hangman, are you serious? It's Valentine's Day. I care about you, but unless this is life or death, I'm spending the night in bed with my wife." Hearing who it was that called, you follow Javy into the kitchen. Sliding up to him, you slot yourself into his side, draping an arm around your shoulder, pulling you even closer.

"In bed with M&M?!" You hear Jake start to yell, but you are taking the phone from Javy.

"Seresin, don't call back through do not disturb unless it's a real emergency," you mutter into the receiver before hanging up. Javy's lips are tracing your neck less than a breath later.

"What was this you mentioned about bed?" You ask Javy.

"Do you want to get in one with me, like right now?"

"Yes, please," you agree breathily. You hand Javy his phone, and he tucks it in his pocket, clearly displeased by the device's proximity.

"I hate being on call."

You are pulling him in the direction of his room just because it is closer before you can let any further idea of work enter his head. Entering the room, you both practically scramble to undress each other. Javy whines while reminding you that his shirt is Armani, and he wants to keep all the buttons when you fumble opening them. You roll your eyes but slow down and take care not to ruin one of your husband's favorite shirts.

"I think about these pretty lips every single day," Javy tells you. He kisses you again, but it's more tender than you expect. When he pulls away, he smiles.

"I think about how pretty they are when you smile and all the ways that they could touch me. What they feel like against my lips. How they would feel wrapped around my cock." Javy's thumb starts to trace your lower lip, and you suck it into your mouth, gliding the tip of your tongue against the pad. Inhaling sharply, he pulls his thumb out of your mouth, to your disappointment.

"I think about touching your tits all the time." Javy pivots while grabbing a handful of your breast and squeezing, taking the opportunity to unhook your bra. You help him slide the straps off your shoulders, and he takes a moment to admire your breasts. Then dipping down to kiss them as well. Urging you to lay back on the bed, once you are lying down with Javy's eyes raking over your form, you start to feel self-conscious. Even as he pulls your panties off and starts kissing your legs. You cross your legs and do your best to cover yourself. His intense gaze nearly making want to reach for the throw blanket that is on the end of the bed. The sight of Javy's chiseled chest and cut edges reminds you of your soft edges and curves, the thought that you are ill matched flooding your brain.

"Now Mrs. Machdo. That is not how things go in this bedroom. But don't you worry, I'm here to teach you." Javy tsks at you. Javy grabs an ankle in each large hand, pulling you toward the end of the bed. Then completely unabashed, he stares at your pussy. You try to close your legs again, but Javy's hands on your ankles prevent you from doing so. Kneeling down, he presses soft kisses to your legs and the inside of your thighs.

"I'm going to take my time with you," he tells you, kissing up your legs. He bypasses your sex, instead kissing your stomach. As he is teasing one of your nipples, you dare to touch him back, letting your fingers dance over the shape of his arms and then across his strong shoulders. It's an exploration you have dreamed of many times, but the soft smoothness of his skin is better. When Javy has paid attention to both nipples and leaves a mark you know will blossom into a hickey near your collar bone he is kissing you again. With one of his strong thighs in between your legs, you push against it trying to seek some friction and relief from your burning arousal. Pulling your lips away from his.

"Javy, I want you now," you gasp, pouting. Squirming against his thigh, you trace your hands down his back with the full intention of pushing down his briefs. Instead though, he is easing himself back down your body and kneeling on the side of the bed.

"No Ma'am. I'm going to do everything I wanted to on our wedding night when we should have consummated this marriage." Javy starts tracing your skin again, peppering kisses where he sees fit. You jump slightly at the feeling but quickly relax. Even though you two have not ever been intimate, that doesn't mean that you aren't comfortable with him in almost every other way. It feels surprisingly easy to take this new step, to be pressed together. You had always thought it might not be there, a physical spark, that maybe you were compatible with Javy in every other way. However, the moment Javy's tongue meets your clit, and he is the one who moans first, the doubt largely vanishes from your mind; it's so evident he desires you too.

While licking your clit Javy traces a finger along your lips, occasionally dipping into you, but the whole action is teasing. Just when he edges the length of his finger inside you, he kisses your thighs. When he licks your clit in firm strokes, he starts to edge his finger out of you. It's building you up but also making you feel like there is no end in sight.

"Javy, I need you now," you beg again.

"It's too soon." He tells you, lifting his head and pulling his mouth off you, and you nearly cry at the loss. "I have to warm you up baby, or it will hurt."

It will hurt, Javy claims, and the thought of his dick being big enough that is something he worries about sends another wave of arousal rushing through you. Married three years, you had seen the delicious outline of it in boxers, briefs, grey sweatpants, and towels, and even now, you still haven't seen all of him.

"Now, please," you whine.

"Prove you can take my fingers, and then we will see," Javy tells you, attempting to compromise with a teasing lit. He only has one finger in you, and you buck against it, seeking more. When he teases another at your entrance, you shift taking that finger as far as your position will allow. Sighing contently when with the stretch, feeling more full. As you clench around his thick fingers, Javy grunts out a low moan, speeding his digits and occasionally scissoring you wider open.

"What about a third?" He asks eventually. The idea sends another wave of arousal through you. As you clench around his fingers, Javy hums against your clit. Gasping desperately, you fist your hands in his forest green quilt. Javy doesn't actually indulge you in a third finger but continues to tease your entrance like he might. His tongue drags against your clit, and the wet sounds of the whole act making you clench harder around his fingers.

"Please, just fuck me. Please, Javy."

"You think I'm going to fuck you before you cum on my tongue? You're so silly, sweetheart. I'm taking my sweet time with you. I have so much to make up for," Javy nips playfully at your inner thigh. You hum at the contact spreading your knees and legs a little wider to accommodate Javy's broad shoulders. Flattening his tongue to give you a broader stroke and occasionally licking around his fingers. You feel dripping at the combination of your own juices and his spit. It's teasing and playful, a pattern you're starting to notice with him.

Nearing an orgasm, you try to grind harder on Javy's tongue, but when you do he teases a third finger again. The push for new fullness drags you back from the edge. Teetering there, you try to figure out if another one of his fingers will enter you. When he curls it away, you groan lowly. Javy stops sucking at your clit and turns his face back to pillow on your thigh. You can feel his smirk against your skin. You weren't prepared for this kind of edging, and the desperation feels nearly raw and beyond just needy.

"Please, Javy. Do I need to beg more? Do you want me to cry? Or—" you trail off, hoping that he will fill the blank for you. You are willing to give him whatever he wants; you just don't know what that is yet. Navigating sex is always something a little awkward with a new partner. It feels an extra layer of odd because you know Javy, and have known him for years. You know that the smallest glance with a squeeze of your hand means he wants to leave a party. You know when he spends too long at the gym by the slightly slower pace he walks. You know the soup to make him when he has a cold and tries to hide it from you. You know Javy. Suddenly having a situation where you are unsure feels foreign and uncomfortable.

Javy sits back more on his calves so he can better gauge your reactions. "I want to rock your world. I want to ruin every other man for you. I want my name to be the only one you know. I want you to be mine and only mine. Sweetheart, you are all I want."

"You already have all those things," you reassure him. Propping yourself on your elbows so you can meet his gaze. Even heavy with lust, his eyes still make you feel warm and safe. A small genuine smile lifts on his lips, then grows into a splitting grin that makes his eyes crinkle.

"You've been so good and giving for me Mrs. Machado. About time I give back to you ain't it?" He asks, peppering more kisses all over your legs. His fingers resume pumping into you steadily, and he is purposeful in how he drags them along your inner walls. "I want one more thing, though."

"Anything Javy. Anything."

"I want you to cum for me whenever you're ready. I'll give it to you. I'll give you anything you want, baby." Javy isn't teasing this time. He starts to work you over again with his lips sealed around your clit. He sucks while also tracing hard twisting strokes of his tongue. His digits maintain a steady speed, but they are fucking into you harder, and he continues to curl them, occasionally dragging over your walls. Arching further to the edge of the bed, Javy's arm lays across your hips, holding you down so he can grind his tongue against you harder.

"Don't stop," you beg, and this time he listens. It takes a few more pumps of his fingers, and you are tumbling over the edge. Your pussy spasming around his fingers. Javy moans, and the vibrations travel right through you, extending your orgasm and making your hips stutter before falling all the way down to the bed. Closing your eyes tightly with short breaths, it takes you several moments to come back to your body. When you finally feel yourself, you find Javy on the bed with you resting with his head on your tummy. As your brain starts working, you try to push Javy's head away, but he resists snuggling further into you.

"Javy," you start to say, not sure how to explain to him your insecurities.

"Thank you, baby. That was so good. You are so beautiful," he says, mouthing little kisses near your belly button and up your chest.

"I love that you're so soft," he mutters, almost in awe. One of his hands squeezes your side, and the other graces over your lower belly. Javy presses his lips to your breasts and sucks a nipple. You keen under him. Using your knees to urge him that much further up your body so you can kiss Javy, tasting the hint of yourself on his tongue still. Once he knows that you don't mind your own taste he deepens the kiss and rolls you both to be less perilously positioned on the end of the bed.

"Will you fuck me now?" Javy is nodding, but not as enthusiastically as you expect him to. So you ask him hesitantly, "Or we can do other stuff?"

"I really want to make love to you, but."

"But?" You ask. Groaning, Javy slides to lay next to you, hiding his face in your chest. You run your fingers across the shaved prickly skin at the base of his skull, patiently waiting.

"I'm worried I'll cum too fast. I don't want you to get the wrong idea."

You make no attempt to stop the burst of tenderness and love you feel at his small confession sharing vulnerability. Then in the kindest voice, you say, "that's okay. It doesn't really matter to me. As long as you enjoy yourself, that's what matters."

Lifting his face from your chest, the look Javy gives you is horrified and a little offended. Immediately he starts jumping into explanation, "To start, fuck no. That is not what matters. Like I said, I don't want you to think that I'm always quick to cum. I've just wanted this for so long, and I spent so much time putting everything together today that I didn't even jack off in the shower. My second round of the day is always so much longer, I promise."

"Javy, thank you. I promise this isn't going to change my thoughts or feelings about you. Okay? And a second round sounds great to me. We have to get through the first, though."

"Okay," he says with a sigh. Javy stands off the bed again, and you take the opportunity to scooch further back against the headboard. You watch, entranced, as he finally peels his briefs off; Coyote’s cock is mouthwatering. You aren't at all ashamed of the small gasping moan that falls from your throat.

"How do you want me?" You ask him as he crawls back up the bed. You stare at his body, suddenly overcome with the urge to trace over every single inch of him with your tongue.

"How do you want me, beautiful?" He fires back in an easy tone.

"Missionary?" You suggest. Nodding his head enthusiastically to your suggestion. Settling in between your thighs and you have to widen your knees to accommodate his broad frame.

"Fuck yes, I want to be in this pretty pussy and able to see your pretty face too."

He wasn't lying when he told you that he was big, and as he starts to push in, you are appreciative that he took his time with foreplay. Being stuffed so full of him leaves you gasping, and your mind keeps repeating better. This is better than you ever thought it would be. He is better than you always knew he would be.

"How are you doing, sweetheart?"

"So good. I'm so full of you Javy. I want more."

Taking your permission, he starts rocking into you at a steady pace. With one arm, he anchors himself against the headboard gripping it tightly, then his free hand traces your face. You can tell Javy is trying to hold himself back and take things slow for the sake of his ego. You start to meet his thrusts lifting your hips a bit more to get a better angle. Javy's hand falls from your face to your ass, helping support you. The steady pace starts to increase to a hot frantic tempo. He moans your name brokenly, and you grab his ass, trying to urge him even closer to chase his pleasure. His hips start to stutter, and panting he slips out of you. His hand lets you go to give his cock a few harsh jerks, and Javy cums on your chest. He is frozen like that for a moment before rolling to your side with a wide grin on his face.

"You could have cum inside. We are married, you know." You tease Javy. He stops breathing momentarily, and you turn your head to see him better. Despite having just cum, his eyes are still heavy with lust, and when he does take a breath again, it's a little ragged.

"We've never really discussed that and should have used protection anyways. I'm sorry." Javy hasn't even finished the apology when you drag your finger across some of the cum on your chest. Delicately you swipe your tongue across your finger, tasting him. Javy groans low in his chest, turning to lie flat on his back and his face in the crook of his elbow. You hum happily, the power you have over him intoxicating to a degree.

"You're right. That's definitely something we need to talk about, but next time…" You wait for Javy' to remove his elbow and look at you again. He does peek at you a few seconds later. "I want you to come inside me. I want to feel you dripping down my thighs. I want you to fill me up."

Javy's mouth falls open, and his eyes are so dark you feel like you could get lost in them. He is surging forward then and kissing you. It's a dirty and quick tangle of tongues. Then he pulls away and starts mouthing at your throat. "Do you want to be stuffed with my cum, baby?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Machado," you say cheekily.

"Fuck. You drive me a little crazy," he warns you lowly as you move to straddle him. You can tell he is still sensitive, but his dick is already starting to thicken again. You settle on his thigh instead, deciding that you could be patient waiting for him. You rock against his thighs for the smallest bit of stimulation just to start you going again. Javy watches you, completely captivated.

"You being a good girl and waiting for me? Just give me a few minutes."

"I've been waiting three years. I can wait a little while longer to be full of your cum," you tell him, but it comes out as a whine like you're trying to convince yourself that's true. Javy settles a hand on your hip, giving you a small bit of encouragement to grind against him harder.

"I'm sorry I kept you waiting, sweetheart. No more though. I've got you now. I promise. I've got you." He repeats gently. His sweet and caring tone only makes the desperation in you burn higher. Shaking your head at him, unable to form the words explaining how you are feeling. Instead, you drop your eyes down to look at your chest again. You thought you would feel a little more peeved at the feeling of his cum drying against your skin. Rather, you just find more you can scoop into your mouth. The fact that his dick isn't in your mouth feels criminal.

Taking a moment to not just admire him but also strategize. Javy has a long cock, and you know you wouldn't be able to take all of him down without practice and working your way up to it. Something that definitely wouldn't be happening tonight. However, then the taste of his cum isn't enough, and neither is just looking. You slide further down his thigh; your own pleasure is lost in the haze of this need.

It's a more burning type of relief to have your mouth on him. You give the head a few soft licks, vaguely wondering how different he will taste when he hasn't already been in you. Javy lets out another shuddering moan. You want to lift your head in order to take in his features, but you are too absorbed in the feeling of his cock in your mouth. Javy clearly doesn't mind as you set about tracing his length. After a thorough exploration, one of your hands joins the mix, appreciating his shape and how heavy his dick is in your hand.

Sucking Javy until he is fully hard again, you become braver, daring to take more of him in your mouth. Bobbing slightly and sucking, letting your hand make up for the rest. However, just as you start to feel pleased with your rhythm, Javy gently pulls you off him, cooing when you whine.

"Baby. Baby stop. It's okay. Take a breath. That was so amazing. You are so fucking amazing."

"I hope it was okay. I might be a little out of practice," you admit to him shyly. Your lusty haze ebbing, you trace the lines of his chest but don't want to meet his eyes. Surely he hadn't been expecting you to be this much during your first time together.

"You're doing so good, sweetheart. I love you, and I love this," he reassures you. You shimmy up to straddle him again, lightly dragging your dripping cunt over him. Javy's cock is pressed hotly between your thighs, spreading your lips while nudging against your clit. You rock along him, wanting that friction while bracing against his chest, leaning down to kiss him.

"I love you too," you mutter against his lips. When Javy shifts his hips in tandem with yours, catching your entrance and then sliding past it, you're spurred into action. "I need you in me, Javy."

"I ain't stopping nothing, but are you sure you are okay?"

You don't answer him directly; instead, you reach between you to grab his cock and guide it to your entrance. Leaning back for a better angle, you slide down his whole length. You are taken aback, letting out a sharp almost pained gasp. Having already accommodated him inside once tonight, you didn't expect to still feel the slight burning stretch of his girth now. Once you adjust riding Javy is a dream. Praise spills out of his mouth along with the most delicious sounds. It's a great angle that makes you feel incredibly full. Your thighs start to burn when you stop the slow grinding and transition to you bouncing quickly on his dick. You hope the increased pace, paired with the snapping of Javy's hips, would get you there. However, it's still not enough. Not even when Javy brings his thumb up to circle your clit in strong consistent strokes. Although you are nearly in tears, Javy looks perfectly content like this is exactly what he wants.

"Javy," you cry high pitched, completely ceasing your movements. Even though you froze, he doesn't. Javy's hips continue lifting up fucking into you, and his thumb doesn't falter either. You take a moment to just feel it, and savor the moment. Then tiredly you slump down against his chest. A few thrusts later, you bite Javy's peck hard. He doesn't complain as he runs one of his hands down your back and squeezes your ass, chucking.

"What do you need, sweet girl?" He asks you. You bite him again, licking one at his nipple before nibbling it too. That rewards you with an extra hard thrust from Javy.

"I don't know," you admit, frustrated. The constant stimulation makes you burn hotter and is tantalizing, but it doesn't give you any push to the final release. Javy completely stops moving but stays hilted in you. His hands urge you to sit up, and he holds your gaze steadily.

"It's okay. We always figure things out together, don't we? This isn't any different."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, of course. Now tell me how you are feeling. Tell me what you like."

"I really like you. I love you Javy. And I've been thinking about this for so long."

"I've been dreaming about it too. I can't believe neither of us said anything sooner."

"I couldn't ever tell you."

"I wish you had. Why didn't you?"

"We both know you're out of my league, Javy. I never thought that you would want me back." He makes a pained sound hearing your admission.

"I'm not out of your league, and I've always wanted you back from the beginning. Okay?" You feel a little frustrated that he doesn't see or understand what you're saying, and if he wasn't literally still inside you, it might have been possible to press the issue. Right now, though, you know your insecurities could be tabled to another day.

"Okay."

"Good," Javy mutters, slipping out of you with a wet sound. "Let's try a different position. Does that sound okay, sweetheart?"

"Okay, we can try that," you say with a shrug.

Then with little effort, he gently manhandles you off him into a new position. Your front is pressed to the bed ass up for him, and Javy helps slide a pillow under you for better support. Kissing down the length of your spine. He asks twice if you're comfortable, taking his time pushing into you. It's a good position, allowing Javy to fuck into you harder than before. Your biggest complaint is the loss of being able to appreciate his handsome features.

In between telling you how good you are and just how wet and perfect your pussy is, Javy asks if he can spank you. It's a suggestion that has you biting your lip and agreeing hesitantly. It's not even a hard spank against your ass, just enough for a slight sting. The sharpness in contrast with how deliciously you're being filled, has your back arching. With a few more spanks, all of which you can tell Javy is holding back for, you feel close to an orgasm again.

"I'm getting close," you warn him.

"Going to give you every last drop, sweetheart. I'm going to make sure you're so full of me. I really want to feel you cum, though. Can you do that? Will you cum for me, Mrs. Machado?" Javy finally gives attention to your neglected clit again, and you know it's only a matter of time. Every time he bottoms out and gives your pulsating bundle of nerves a tweak, you feel yourself teetering.

"Call me that again," you request, relishing the way it falls off his lips more than nearly any of the other times he's said it in the past.

"Mrs. Machado," he repeats. "My wife, my girl, my love. Mrs. Machado, I want you to cum now."

With an extra hard press of his thumb, you're cumming. The heat that had been building in your abdomen bursts flooding bliss through your limbs. Crying out his name and fluttering around his cock, your legs start to spasm too. Coyote keeps fucking you, though, a little harder, a bit more selfishly chasing his own release.

"Javy, fill me up now," you demand, turning your head as much as you can to watch him. His pace falters at your request but immediately picks up again.

"Yes ma'am," Javy gasps. Speeding up so fast and hard, you feel a twinge against your cervix at the abuse. Just as you think you are going to have to tell him to be more gentle with you, Javys hips stutter. Holding himself entirely in you, his hands gripping your hips so hard you won't be shocked to find bruises later, he finally fills you up. You clench purposely around his length, wanting to help him milk his orgasm as long as possible. The warm spreading feel of his seed in you makes you sigh happily, and the boneless tired feeling after a good orgasm hits you like a truck.

Javy lays down on the bed, his breath still coming out in short pants. Immediately you cuddle closer to him, turning to lay your head on his shoulder. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you even closer to him. As his breaths even out, he starts kissing you slowly, hands cluching you tighter to his chest.

"Come closer, sweetheart," he requests quietly. Part of you wouldn't be surprised if Javy will ever think you are close enough to him again now that he's been inside you, but most of you relishes that concept. You scoot even closer, more than half laying on his chest, pressing as much of your skin together as feasible.

Later after one of the most tender intimate showers of your life, you are snuggled into Javy's bed with fresh sheets, trying to pick out a sappy Valentine's Day movie to watch. Javy had brought the extra pillows in your room, so you could make an extra area for movie cuddles. You are still scrolling when he comes back into the room with a plate of reheated dinner. Ravenous from skipping dinner and the following activities, you grin widely seeing the food.

"You are the most amazing man to ever walk this earth, Javy Machado." You tell him, patting the spot you left for him next to you.

"Sweetheart, you'll give me an ego if you keep talking to me like that." Javy expertly balances the plate and nestles in close. "Please tell me more," He says cheekily, pressing a kiss casually to your lips. You have to take a full minute to process that's a thing that can just happen now. So you lean a little more of your weight into him, and seek out Javy's lips again, simply because you want to and can.

'Well, no one cooks like you do."

"Yeah?"

"And no one gives as good cuddles as you do."

"I think that one's actually about you because you are the most comfortable and soothing person I have ever met. Of course it turns me into a snuggle monster." You laugh at him, and he casually throws an arm over your shoulder. He feeds you a small bite in off the plate before taking one himself. However, he doesn't seem overly invested in it like you expect.

"You ate a plate in the kitchen, didn't you?" You guess and feel Javy stop breathing.

"That maybe could have happened. I'm sorry sweetheart, I was so hungry." Javy adopts an exaggeratedly apologetic face sticking out his lower lip pleadingly.

"I guess, I could be convinced to forgive you."

"Oh, I'll do anything to earn your forgiveness."

"How about breakfast in bed tomorrow," you suggest casually.

"Absolutely, whatever you want. Quiche? Waffles? Omelettes? Croissants?"

"That all sounds good, but I was thinking of something else."

"Really? And what do you want to have, sweetheart?" He asks curiously.

"The only thing I had on the menu was you," You tell him cheekily. His eyes widen a little, and his teeth dig into his lower lip. He kisses your neck sweetly, nosing under your jaw. He closes his eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath.

"Marry me?"

Finding his joke funny, you laugh lightly, playfully tapping your elbow into his side. Javy remains quiet and serious, though. When he doesn't respond, you set the plate aside, so it has no danger of spilling and turn to face him more fully. You are sure that he is waiting for that to reveal his mirth, but his eyes are just as serious as his tone.

"Javy, we are already married." You say, chuckling again.

"Marry me, again." He requests earnestly. Taking your hand in his, he gently pulls off your wedding band, holding it out like an offering. You pluck the ring back from him, sliding it into place on your finger. A smile breaks out on his face following your movement. Then you place that same hand on his face, holding him so he wouldn't be able to avoid your eyes.

"No. We are not going to get remarried." Javy pouts, and before he can reach true sadness, you lean forward to kiss him again. "But we can throw a really nice party if you want."

And when you two do finally get around to throwing a big old party, most of the room is confused about why exactly you and Javy are exchanging vows. However, absolutely no one is surprised when Javy produces seven cramped front-to-back sheets of paper of written vows when it's his turn.

#javy machado x reader #coyote x reader #Javy coyote machado x reader #javy machado x you #coyote x you #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #carnal for coyote #hot hot hot!#hot 🥵#bones hearts and marriges

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mouschiwrites · 8 months

Note

Hello, I was wondering if you could do like a fic about the future where Lloyd and fem reader are getting married? Please.

Sure thing! I tried to keep descriptions pretty vague so that y'all can imagine your special day however you like. Also some Nya content in here bc we can never have enough of her <333 okay I'll shut up now

Word count: 1k

Ninjago - Your Wedding Day with Lloyd

You leaned in closer to the mirror, turning your head this way and that, scrutinizing every inch of your face. Pursing your lips anxiously, you focused so hard on your own reflection that you didn’t see Nya approaching from behind you.

“Here,” she said, startling you. She placed her fingers under your chin, turning your head so you were face-to-face. She cocked her head as she examined you. Then, with a smile, she plucked a stray eyelash off your cheek. Holding it up to your lips, she waited for you to blow it off.

You puffed, launching the eyelash into obscurity.

“Did you make a wish?”

You nodded.

“What was it?”

With a coy smirk you turned back to the mirror. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“Hmm… did you wish that you won’t have a wardrobe malfunction?” She tugged at your clothing, making sure everything was fitting as it should. You remembered going out with her, buying the clothes that you were to be married in. How your heart soared when you saw yourself in them for the first time. If you were flying then, you were floating in space now. With each miniscule adjustment Nya made, your image in the mirror somehow became even more perfect; no, it surpassed perfection.

“Thanks,” you said as she gave one last tug on the fabric near your waist. “But that wasn’t my wish.”

“Did you wish away your pre-marriage jitters?”

You looked at the ceiling, chewing your cheek thoughtfully as you assessed your own feelings. Your reflexive response was “I don’t have jitters,” but you slowly realized that you did have jitters. The fluttery feeling in your stomach wasn’t just excitement. You were afraid, too.

What if things went wrong? What if you had a wardrobe malfunction, or you tripped while walking down the aisle, or if you accidentally said “I don’t” or—oh. Oh no. What if this was all a mistake? What if you were left at the altar, or abandoned on your honeymoon? What if one of you wanted a divorce after two weeks? A year? Ten years?

The image of your soon-to-be husband flashed in your mind suddenly. The vision of him in his neat tuxedo, smiling, telling you it would all be okay, chased your worries away. Funny how he could comfort you even when he wasn’t in the room. Yes, he was perfect for you. And, as he told you almost too often, you were perfect for him. You two were made for each other; nothing else mattered.

With a sigh, you felt your muscles (which you hadn’t realized were tense) relax. “Didn’t wish for that, either. One more guess.”

“Really? Ooh, I’ve got it!” She placed her head endearingly on your shoulder, making eye contact with your reflection. “You wished for a long and happy marriage.”

You clucked your tongue, shaking your head. “I don’t need to wish for that.”

Nya’s eyes sparkled. You knew she was a sucker for romance; she must’ve been absolutely feasting these past few months. But her obsession with your wedding wasn’t a one-sided relationship; actually, she had proven to be a fantastic planner. There wasn’t one detail she didn’t think of, and she wouldn’t settle for anything less than fairytale-esque sublimity. Without her, this day wouldn’t be the happiest day of your life.

“Humph,” she straightened herself, putting her hands on her hips. “Well then, you’ll have to tell me after your honeymoon. Now come on, I hear the music starting.” She took your hand eagerly and hurried you out of the room.

The aisle was lined with arrangements of your favorite flowers, their scent filling the venue. You felt your cheeks darken as everyone stood, their eyes fixated on you. For a second you were frozen there, bouquet in hand, air trapped in your lungs. You felt a little silly as you realized that these were all your friends, your family, the ones most important to you. The looks in their eyes—proud, overjoyed, a little misty—brought a smile to your face.

You proceeded slowly, the (f/c) petals on the ground getting crushed under your pristine shoes. You weren’t looking at your shoes, though. You looked each guest in the eye as you passed, doing everything you could not to cry as they shot you the most heartfelt looks.

You finally made it to the altar. Lloyd held his hand out. You felt your heart skip a beat when you took it, as if it were the first time you’d touched.

You remembered that day. You remembered the first time you held hands, the first time you kissed, the day he asked you to be his partner—and, more recently, his spouse.

He looked just as beautiful as the day you met. Thick platinum hair framing his angular face, green eyes brimming with wonder, he was your dream boy. And the way he smiled… Now you were really trying not to cry. He gave your hands a reassuring squeeze as the officiator read his script. You smiled back at him, blinking your tears away and preparing to say your vows.

He was first. “I do.”

The words hung in the air, surely keeping the audience in suspense, but all you felt was bliss as you waited for your chance to echo him. “I do.”

“You may now kiss.”

The audience erupted into applause as your lips crashed together. Your eyebrows jumped high on your forehead when Lloyd surprised you by dipping you low, prolonging the moment.

You broke the kiss, bursting into laughter. You stood there for a few more seconds, holding each other’s faces, laughing, foreheads pressed together.

As your laughter died down but the audience still hooted and hollered, Lloyd whispered, for your ears only: “I can’t believe how lucky I am. How beautiful you are. I’m going to treasure you forever.”

“As I, you.” You brought your lips together again, delight flowing through you electrically.

But what about your wish? I wish that this will truly be the happiest day of my life. Well, it’s safe to say that it came true.

Thank you for this wonderful request!! Also, thanks for reading! Take care of yourselves my flowers <33

(divider by saradika)

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago x reader #lloyd garmadon #lloyd ninjago #ninjago lloyd #lloyd garmadon x reader #lloyd x reader

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deathbypufferfish · 1 year

Text

Here's the second list but for story ideas for the sims!

This list is comprised of ideas that have to do with storylines, scenarios, character dynamics, conflicts, character attributes, and more! Of course you can technically do whatever you want in a sims story, but this list is curated to story ideas that can in some way be played out in-game. Whether it's through the game, mods, or imagination. A lot of these are not wholesome lol, if you are looking for more wholesome story ideas I recommend my gameplay list. Please feel free to add to the story soup! Just note in your ask it is for the soup and keep it within the parameters I mentioned above. (To keep the post from getting too long I'll make a contributor list into a compressed image later on for those who send off-anon.)

If you are looking for sims gameplay centered ideas check out the Gameplay Gumbo list here!

🍲 Soup below the cut! ⬇

Conflict:

Money loss from gambling

A character is addicted to shoplifting

A huge fight at a wedding, funeral, large event etc.

Financial difficulties

Miscommunication

Drop out of or fail university

Drop out or fail out of high school

Shit talk a friend/family member

Loss of job

Failed business

Blackmail

Death of family member/friend/love interest

A character is caught cheating on their partner and is blackmailed for it.

Arson (fireworks indoors)

A character steals money from another/asks for a large loan and never pays it back

Betrayal from a friend

Character spirals after a break up

Evicted from home/apartment

House fire

Love:

A forgotten anniversary

Meet Cute: two characters meet on a train

Side character is caught cheating

Meet Cute: two characters meet when one of them finds the other’s lost pet

Child out of infidelity (keep it a secret for a long time or get caught)

Divorce (amicable or messy)

A celebrity character falls in love with their bodyguard

A potential love interest is rich kid looking for someone to make their life more “interesting”

Have a couple have a huge fight and makeup

A rejected proposal

Best friends/siblings have feelings for the same person

Character has a fear of commitment

A best friend is moving away and your character has to confess their love to them

Enemies to lovers

Competitive coworkers turned lovers

A couple breaks up over one of them losing all their money

Start a throuple/open relationship (Open Love Life Mod)

Be the other person in someone’s affair

Have an affair

A reluctant partner abandons their partner when they get pregnant (Good with Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul Mod)

Runaway bride/groom/partner

Bridezilla

Running away together

Meet the parents

Affair

Partner lied about who they are

Accidental kiss

Fake relationship

Enemies to lovers

Forbidden love

Give an old relationship a second chance

Unrequited Love

Divorced couple getting back together (possibly secretly/affair)

Secret Admirer

Vegas/Drunk wedding

Secretly in love with partner’s friend/family member

Love triangle leads to throuple

Rocky marriage

Couple that refuses to divorce

Have a one night stand (Simda Dating App)

Friends who are in denial about being in love

Trophy Wife/Husband/Partner

Couple wants different things

Couple from different social class/different worlds

Married because of an unexpected pregnancy

Married too young

A couple married for a long time having intimacy problems

Happy or unhappy couple has separate rooms/beds

A marriage doesn’t last long

Bromance turns into romance

Childhood friends to lovers later in life

Clingy, jealous partner

Family:

Someone abandons the family

Annoying/Terrible in-laws

Overbearing/Overprotective parent

Neglectful parent

Having to choose between your partner and your family who dislikes them

Bad sibling relationships

Conflict-avoidant family (buries all their problems)

Disagreeing on how to parent

A child is getting bullied by their peers

Strained Parent/Teen relationship

Teen Pregnancy (Supportive or Unsupportive family. Good with Relationship & Pregnancy Mod)

Found family

Blended family

Multi-generational family

Tension between step-parent and step-children

Tension between step-siblings

Chaos children

Tension between the favorite child and their siblings

Sudden or unexpected baby (possibly from one night stand/fling)

Secret baby from old relationship

Amicable exes who co-parent well together

Nepotism

Dysfunctional family

Breaking the cycle of bad parenting

Cool Uncle/Cool Aunt

Children being raised by family other than their parents (aunt, uncle, sibling, grandparents)

Single parent

Divorced parent who spoils their kids

Disowned child/parent

Embarrassing Parent

Parent prioritizes work over family/partner

Family Curse

Humble parents, spoiled kids

Child wants to be nothing like their parent(s)

Platonic co-parenting

Secret family

Sibling jealousy

My Favorite Mods for Storytelling:

Simda Dating App

Contextual Social Interactions

First Impressions

LGBTQIA+ Mod

Open Love Life

Relationship & Pregnancy Overhaul

Wicked Whims (18+, mod not linked)

Basemental Drugs (18+, mod not linked)

Resources Used

List is added to when I have new ideas so check in time-to-time for more!

#the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 ideas #ts4 story #sims 4 #simblr #sims 4 ideas #ts4 resource #ts4 inspo #ts4 gameplay #puffer's story soup #another fat ass list for y'all #you can see why i split the lists #because they're long #and this one has blackmail and the other one has movie nights so

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loslentesdepedrito · 11 months

Text

I'm Your Wife- Chapter One

Top right gif by: @uuuhshiny , bottom left gif by: @userdjarin

Pairing: Jack Daniels ‘Agent Whiskey’x Spanish-speaking f!reader and Javier Peña x Spanish-speaking f!reader (Spanish translations are provided.)

Word count: 4.7k+

Next Chapter: I'm Your Wife- Chapter Two

Chapter summary: You're filled with excitement as you share news with your husband, Jack. However, his reaction isn't what you were expecting. His hurtful and hateful words leave you reeling, causing you to reconsider your marriage. Luckily, friends and family are there to help you through.

Rating: 18+ no explicit content but I'd rather not have minors read these types of subjects. Warning contains spoilers, but please read if you'd like!!! They are below the cut.

Warnings: ANGST, topics of death and mourning, language used by the characters is harsh and contains strong emotions, pregnancy, divorce, toxic marriage. (I hope I didn’t forget anything, it’s been years since I wrote this.)

A/N: Yes, I'm aware that this piece bears similarities to my first work (Jack Daniels and Frankie Morales) that I shared here. However, I only realized this after creating the graphic at the top. Oops! If you've grown tired of the Whiskey storyline, I have another piece with Dave York available!

"Jack?" You call out, anticipation and happiness filling your voice. Jack brings his head up and looks at you, his eyes reflecting the joy that radiates from you.

"Yes, sugar?" he responds, mirroring your smile with his own.

You can't help but let your smile grow wider. "I'm pregnant!"

But the moment the words escape your lips, Jack's smile vanishes before your eyes. Confusion swirls within you, and you can't understand his reaction. "No, you ain’t," he denies firmly.

You refuse to let his denial dampen your excitement. With a quieter voice, you insist, "Yes, I am."

Again, he denies your claim. "No. You ain’t pregnant." His Southern drawl carries a mix of shock and denial.

He’s got to be in shock, right? you wonder silently, trying to make sense of his reaction. He must be, you reason, which is why you decide to make it more tangible for him.

"I am. Look!" You declare proudly, pulling out the glossy black and white sonogram from your pocket, and presenting it to him.

But to Jack, it all feels wrong. He glances at the sonogram, your name on the top left corner, and the blurry white image representing the tiny life growing inside you. Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions, Jack shuts his eyes tightly, wishing desperately that this is all just a nightmare. Meanwhile, you remain over the moon, your gaze fixated on the sonogram, admiring the newly forming person you already love the most. I already love you more than words can describe. You’ll be loved so much, I promise.

In an instant, a sharp sting shoots through your right fingertips, eliciting a hiss of pain from your lips. Startled, you look down and see the crumpled sonogram on the floor. It becomes clear to you that Jack's intention was simply to drop the picture, but the force behind his action accidentally inflicted pain on your fingers. As you wince from the ache, Jack's realization dawns upon him, triggered by the audible hiss of pain that escaped you. However, the physical pain in your hand pales in comparison to the overwhelming confusion and hurt that now blossoms within you.

The sharp sting brings you back to reality, and you struggle to comprehend why you felt the need to step away from your own husband. Your heartbeat quickens, mirroring the pace of your racing thoughts, as you bend down to pick up the now-bent sonogram.

Jack has never laid a hand on you before, not even in the slightest way. You take a cautious step back, ensuring a safe distance between you. Your voice quivers with a mix of concern and hurt as you ask, "What's wrong with you?"

He shakes his head frantically, before he finally speaks, "This ain’t supposed to happen."

Confusion deepens within you, and you struggle to understand his meaning. "What... what do you mean, love?"

"This ain’t supposed to happen," Jack repeats, his voice filled with desperation.

You remain silent, your heart pounding in your chest, waiting for him to offer an explanation. But his next words cut through you like a knife. "You can't be pregnant... You just can't!"

You flinch back, wounded by his outburst. The pain in his words sears through, and tears well up in your eyes. "This ain’t supposed to happen with you," he continues, his voice filled with anguish. "I... I was supposed to have a family with my wife."

His reference to his first wife, tragically taken from him years before you entered his life, shatters your heart into a million pieces. The weight of his grief and loss settles heavily upon you, mingling with your own pain. You whisper, barely audible, "I'm your wife."

The words escape your lips, your voice barely registering as a hushed murmur. But Jack's confusion echoes in his question, "What?"

"I'M YOUR WIFE!" you shout, your voice filled with hurt and frustration. "It's me! You married me!"

"I held my tongue for so long, but I can't bear it any longer," you continue, your words pouring out in a torrent of pent-up emotions. "You make me feel like the other woman like you didn't even marry me."

"You always call her your wife when I'm right next to you. And no, this isn't being dramatic or exaggerating. Did you know you've always done it? Even my own family noticed and they keep having to pull me aside to tell me about it. It wasn't just a slip of the tongue, because you always do it. That's why no one in my family likes you!"

Tears stream down your face as you pour out your heart, laying bare the insecurities and pain that have haunted you for the entirety of your marriage. "I never told you because I didn't want to seem selfish or disrespectful, but you're the one who only thinks of himself and has no respect for me.”

“¡Dios mio!" You exclaim in exasperation. "I told myself I was going crazy for feeling this way. You said it when we were dating, then when we got engaged, and foolishly, I thought you would stop once we became husband and wife. But no."

"When we were dating and talked about our future, I made it clear that I wanted to get married and eventually have children. You knew this! If you didn't want the same things, we should have parted ways, but you said you wanted it too." You say, your voice choking with emotion.

Your voice cracks with frustration and heartache as you continue, "Well, I guess you needed a big wedding to consider me your wife, huh?” You let out a bitter chuckle, the sound carrying a tinge of despair. “You couldn't even give me the wedding of my dreams. I always wanted a celebration with all of my family, and you disregarded my wishes. Fuck, I should have seen this coming! You didn't want a big wedding to overshadow your perfect one, right?" Your words are filled with bitter resentment as you yell out your frustrations.

"YES!" Jack explodes, his own emotions coming to the surface. "I didn't want to replace her memory with you! My first weddin’ was perfect, and nothin’ could have beat it. So, why should I have tried to replicate it with you? I still love her and my boy so much... I tried with you, but it just ain't right! You need to get rid of it. Y'can't keep goin' through with it. She's the love of my life, and you..."

His words slice through your heart, leaving you in pieces. You collapse into sobs, your entire being overwhelmed by the weight of his contempt of you and the anguish of his lingering love for his late wife. "Your first wedding or your first wife?" You choke out through your tears.

"Marrying you was the worst decision I ever made." Jack's words hit you like a punch to the gut, intensifying your heartbreak.

Why the hell did he marry me then? Echoes in your head, tormenting you with unanswered questions and self-doubt.

"Then why am I still in your life?" you manage to say, your voice barely audible as you struggle to understand why he hasn't let you go if you're such a disappointment to him.

"Because you're needy and fuckin’ clingy, and you won't let g-" Jack's words are abruptly cut off by your interruption.

"Don't," You interject. "You don't have to finish that sentence." You say through the knot in your throat. "I know where I'm not wanted. Don't worry, I won't force you to stay in this so-called marriage, and I will not force you to be my child's father.”

Your voice trembles with a mixture of sadness and determination, as you gather the strength to continue. "I can't keep being the only one fighting for this relationship. The only one who wants to be in this marriage. I won't even suggest therapy. Remember the last time I asked you to go? You wouldn't fucking talk to me and kept going to her grave and god knows where else! For two weeks! Do you have any idea how I felt? I can't keep doing this. I won't compete with a ghost. Not anymore. I'm done.” After those two weeks, I don’t know how I believe we could have worked through his grief. I just.. I didn’t know he didn’t love me...

The words hang in the air, heavy with finality. You take a deep breath, mustering the strength to continue. "I'll contact my lawyer and initiate the divorce proceedings. The papers should arrive soon. I won't ask you for any financial support for my child. So, just do one last thing for me — I mean, you've never really done anything for me — but sign the papers as soon as you receive them, so I can stop being the wife you despise. I'll stay somewhere else tonight, and people will come tomorrow morning to move all my personal belongings. Anything we purchased together will be sold, and the payment will be spl- You know what? I don't have time for this. My lawyer will clarify everything." The words leave your lips with a mix of sadness and determination, the image of a shattered dream painted across your mind.

Through tear-filled eyes, you gather your strength and make a decision. It's time to take control of your own happiness, to reclaim your sense of self-worth. With a trembling voice, you declare, "I won't let myself be treated like this anymore. I deserve to be with someone who loves and cherishes me. I won't settle for anything less."

You feel drained, your heart shattered, but you know you need to leave. You put the sonogram in your purse and turn to head out, but not before you deliver a final blow. "When someone asks about your wife is, you can say her name. You already do."

Jack stands frozen, his mind filled with regret and the realization of the irreparable damage he has caused. Part of him wants to chase after you, to beg you to stay, but he remains rooted to the spot, consumed by guilt and sorrow. The room feels empty and suffocating, the shattered dreams and broken promises hanging heavily in the air.

Jack's eyes snap open to a sudden commotion reverberating through the walls of his house. His Statesman training kicks in, and he springs out of bed with the speed of lightning. The adrenaline coursing through his veins fuels his urgency to investigate the source of the disturbance. Hastily, he descends the stairs, his mind racing, and his heart pounding in his chest.

As Jack reaches the ground floor, he is met with an unexpected sight. A decent group of movers, your family, and your friends filling the space. Instantly, his gaze falls upon your cousins, aunts, uncles, and fucking Javier Peña. Jack's blood boils with a deep-seated hatred for Javier.

Javier had been your best friend during your early childhood, but with a move across the country, you never saw him again. Until, five months ago, when everything changed. You and Jack were out grocery shopping when you reached for a package of chocolate abuelita. In that split second, a large hand enveloped yours, jolting your attention towards a deep voice that called out, "Cariño?" The whirlwind of emotions Jack experienced was suffocating. He watched, consumed by jealousy, as you recognized the man before you. Witnessing the radiant expression on your face, he saw you embrace Javier and ecstatically exclaim, "Javi!" The sight of your reddened cheeks when you released him, burned a searing image into Jack's memory. Despite Jack’s language barrier, he observed how animatedly you conversed with Javier. Although he couldn't understand most of the conversation, he caught the moment when Javier mentioned that he was only in town for one day and then swiftly requested to exchange contact information. Concealing himself around the corner, Jack surreptitiously observed the scene of you giving Javier one last hug, unable to tear his eyes away.

Right after you parted ways with Javier, you excitedly recounted the encounter to Jack, oblivious to the torment it caused him. You spoke about your long-lost friend Javier, sharing every detail, and Jack listened, pretending it was all fresh information. Before the day was over, you informed Jack that Javier had called to tell you he accepted a position at the local police department and asked you to meet him so you could catch up.

The memories flood back for Jack, his resentment towards Javier intensifying. He vividly remembers the christening of one of your second cousins, a significant event, and one where your family showered Javier with adoration. It was another moment that added fuel to Jack's growing disdain for him.

Now, here he stands, witnessing Javier Peña loitering around his home, overseeing the packing of your belongings into cardboard boxes. The sight ignites an inferno within Jack, further fueling his abhorrence for the man everyone loved.

In a flurry of activity, everyone rushes about, their movements brimming with urgency. Oblivious to Jack's presence, they fail to notice him standing at the bottom of the staircase. Suddenly, your friend, colleague, and lawyer, Raul, approaches Jack, breaking through the chaos. The weight of the forthcoming conversation settles heavily upon Jack as Raul addresses him, his tone grave, "Mr. Daniels, we have some matters to discuss."

Jack tenses, fully aware of the impending storm that awaits him. Every word uttered by Raul feels like a stab wound, each syllable a reminder of the impending divorce. The word echoes relentlessly in his mind, sending shockwaves through his entire being. Jack longs for a blink, a mere blink to make all of this vanish, to have you by his side once more. Deep down, though, he knows he cannot be the father your child deserves, and he fears you'll never take him back after the hurtful words he unleashed. Helplessly, he stands there, his emotions raging, as every piece of your shared life is stripped away. Clothes, jewelry, pictures, shoes, bags, kitchenware, even the goddamn fridge magnets—every item is callously placed into clear bags and then transferred into their respective brown cardboard boxes, their labels written in bold red letters.

The pain intensifies as your favorite cousin removes your wedding pictures from the wall, carelessly flipping them upside down before removing them from their expensive frame, and then unceremoniously tossing only the pictures into a box labeled 'QUE ARDA.' Jack wonders what you plan to do with those cherished memories. He makes a mental note to translate that phrase later, his mind cluttered with thoughts and emotions.

As the relentless dismantling of memories continues, Jack withdraws into the sanctuary of your shared bedroom, seeking solace amidst the chaos. The weight of despair presses upon him, urging him to preserve a fragment of what once was. With trembling hands and a heavy heart, he surreptitiously slides one cherished wedding photograph beneath the protective shelter of his underwear drawer. It rests there, hidden from prying eyes, a bittersweet reminder of a love that now hangs by a thread. The image captures the essence of your wedding day, a moment frozen in time where love and hope intertwined. It represents a fleeting glimpse of happiness that Jack yearns to hold onto, to cherish, even if only in the confines of his solitary existence. As his eyes settle upon the drawer, a surge of emotions courses through his veins, reminding him of the role he played in their unraveling.

In the depths of his soul, Jack confronts the painful truth that he bears responsibility for their crumbling relationship. Regret claws at his conscience, its grip unyielding. The yearning to hold onto the photograph, to clutch onto the semblance of what they once had, tugs at his heartstrings. It is a bittersweet reminder of the love they had, now tainted by his own shortcomings and mistakes. To Jack, the photograph is a painful reminder of what he has lost, a reminder that this photograph, like their love, now resides hidden away in the depths of darkness. I did love her, I still do… he finally admits to himself

But even as he acknowledges his fault, the reality of their situation remains unchanged. The impending finality of divorce looms before him, a painful reminder that holding onto faded illusions will not resurrect her love. With a heavy sigh, Jack turns away, unable to escape the weight of his actions and the consequences that now unfold.

Stepping back, Jack's eyes lock onto the figure of Javier, approaching the room with purpose. Clutching a box labeled 'ROPA,' the weight of past joys and sorrows, Javier carries an unmistakable yellow envelope securely tucked beneath his arm. The sight sends a surge of conflicted emotions coursing through Jack's veins. There, within the confines of that envelope, lies the final decree that will sever the bonds his marriage once held.

Jack wrestles with conflicting desires. He longs to keep the photograph close, to savor the image that once symbolized their dreams and aspirations. Its presence would serve as a evidence of the love they once shared. Yet, the impending finality of divorce tugs at his conscience, reminding him of the futility of holding onto a fading illusion.

His moment of introspection is abruptly interrupted by Javier stepping into the room, "We just need this room, and then we're done," Javier's voice cuts through the heavy air, each word dripping with finality. He strides past Jack with deliberate intent, their shoulders colliding in a jarring collision. It’s a calculated move, a manifestation of tensions and unspoken grievances. The impact reverberates through Jack's being, jolting him with a surge of mixed emotions that threaten to overwhelm him.

Javier's voice pierces through the silence, demanding Jack's compliance. "Oh, and sign this," he commands, holding out the document that seals their separation. Jack's heart sinks further, aching with the weight of his mistakes and the harsh reality of his actions. He realizes that his choices and his inability to fight for their love have led them to this precipice of destruction.

A whirlwind of emotions swirls within Jack as he struggles to maintain composure. He longs to retort, confront Javier, to defend himself against the accusations that echo in his mind. But the fear of breaking down, of exposing his raw vulnerability to his nemesis, forces him to swallow his words and bury his pain beneath a façade of indifference.

Suppressing his emotions, Jack forces out a strained response. "I'll go get a pen," he mutters, his voice betraying the cracks in his armor. Of course, he notices a pen casually protruding from Javier's pocket, but doesn’t acknowledge it. Jack's intentions are twofold - to avoid indebtedness to Javier and to steal a fleeting moment of solitude, where he can gather his shattered pieces and shield his vulnerability from prying eyes.

"No need," Javier replies, retrieving a black fountain pen from his crimson shirt. "Here."

Jack accepts the pen wordlessly, turning away from Javier. A wave of emotions washes over him as he approaches the smooth surface of your cherished vanity. Its polished veneer reflects the dim light in the room, casting a soft glow that dances upon the surface like distant stars in the night sky.

As he places the envelope down, he can't help but notice how out of place it looks amidst the serenity of the vanity. The contrast between the cold, impersonal paper and the warmth of the polished wood is sharp. It's a physical manifestation of the turmoil raging within Jack's heart, a stark reminder of the shattered dreams and promises that now lie in ruins.

His attention is momentarily diverted, his ears pricking up at the sound of hangers clanging against each other in the closet. Javier's intrusion into this intimate space feels like an invasion, a violation of the sanctity that once existed between you and Jack. The echoes of the hangers serve as a painful reminder of how swiftly everything has unraveled, leaving him feeling helpless and adrift in a sea of emotions.

The entrance of more voices into the room disrupts Jack's already tumultuous thoughts, shattering the fragile stillness that once enveloped the space. Amidst the chaos, a distinct sound catches his attention—an unmistakable rustling of a bag. He turns, his gaze drawn to one of your uncles holding a storage bag. Its contents hold a precious piece of your shared history, the short, simple white dress you wore on your wedding day. The bag appears relatively small, but it carries an immense weight that lodges itself as a hard lump in Jack's throat.

A rush of memories floods his mind, triggered by your words uttered just the night before: "You couldn't even give me the wedding of my dreams." The sting of truth reverberates through his being, for he knows deep down that you were right. You had shared your dream for a celebration surrounded by all your loved ones, but he had selfishly protested. It was never a matter of financial constraints, as both of you were financially stable, but rather his fear of overshadowing the memory of his first marriage. The image of your tear-streaked face flashes before his eyes, when he said he “didn’t want to make a big deal about the wedding," a haunting reminder of the pain he inflicted upon you with his own demons.

His heart aches as he realizes that you had ultimately surrendered, selflessly agreeing to a courthouse wedding to avoid further conflict. There were no grand gestures, no best man to stand beside him, and only your parents as witnesses. The weight of his own choices and the consequences of his actions press heavily upon him, like a heavy stone lodged in his chest. Regret engulfs him, his remorse magnified by the sight of your dress being packed away, a symbol of the dreams he shattered and the happiness he denied you.

Jack sees your uncle place the storage bag in the 'QUE ARDA' box he noticed earlier, and he knows he will never see that dress again. Unable to bear the weight of these memories any longer, Jack lowers his gaze, seeking solace in the downward cast of his eyes. The room buzzes with activity as more of your possessions are packed away, each item serving as a painful reminder of the life he once shared with you. The anguish wells up within him, threatening to consume his fragile composure. He longs to shield himself from the mounting pain, to retreat into a fortress of emotional detachment, even as his heart aches with the knowledge of the devastation he has caused.

Jack knows he must face the inevitable. He doesn’t want to, but he knows he doesn’t have another choice. He didn’t love you as he should have. He wasn’t a husband to you in the truest sense. Reluctantly, he opens the envelope, gingerly withdrawing the papers contained within. The bold letters of "Decree of No Fault Divorce" sting his eyes, and tears threaten to spill onto the pages. A part of him wants to let them flow freely onto the papers, to show you just how deeply this affects him too.

His gaze traces the contents of the documents, fixating on your initials, your signatures, and the relinquishment of parental rights. He shouldn't be so close to letting out a sob at the sight of everything laid out. The pain is overwhelming, almost suffocating. He had said that he didn't want to be a father to your child, screaming those hurtful words at you. This is what he wanted, isn't it?

Thoughts whirl in his mind as he contemplates sending the papers to a lawyer, as your lawyer had suggested. But he doesn't want to prolong your agony. He senses your urgency to sever ties with him. He doesn't want to contest the division of assets, knowing that what rightfully belongs to you should remain with you. He reads a statement noting that while you're not asking for child support, he understands if the court mandates it.

With a heavy heart and trembling hand, Jack signs his name on the designated line next to your signature. By the time he surrenders his parental rights and agrees to everything else, his hands have gone numb.

Lost in his thoughts and emotions, Jack is unaware of the activity in the room until he notices your lawyer approaching him. Raul's presence jolts him back to reality.

"Very well. I will expedite these papers," Raul states, extending his hand to collect the envelope.

Jack hesitates, his grip tightening on the document, reluctant to surrender it. In fact, a surge of defiance pulses through him, urging him to tear it into countless pieces, to feed it to the pigs, and restore all your belongings to their rightful places within the sanctuary of your home. But he knows he must suppress these rebellious impulses. Reluctantly, his fingers loosen, and he extends the envelope, a mixture of sorrow and resentment coursing through his veins. The burden of the decision he made hangs heavy upon him, a haunting reminder of the choices that have led to this painful moment.

Unexpectedly, Raul reaches into the depths of his dark gray suit pocket, retrieving a small black box. Jack's heart clenches in recognition, knowing all too well the contents that lie within.

"Here is my client's wedding band and diamond ring. She wanted to return them to you." Raul informs him.

The box becomes a symbol of shattered dreams and promises, a vessel holding the remnants of the love that once bound them together. It serves as a perfect reminder of the life they had envisioned, now irrevocably altered.

The gravity of the situation bears down upon Jack's weary shoulders as he gazes at the box, his mind flooded with a whirlwind of emotions. It is a bitter pill to swallow, suddenly acknowledging the pain he has caused and the irreversible damage inflicted upon the once-vibrant tapestry of their relationship. Regret seeps into every pore, intertwining with the threads of sorrow that bind him, leaving an indelible mark upon his soul.

Jack's fingertips tingle with a mix of trepidation and resignation, for in surrendering the envelope, he recognizes the finality of their life together.

With a heavy sigh, Jack reluctantly releases his grip on the envelope, its transfer an act of surrender and acceptance. The bittersweet taste of resignation lingers on his tongue, a poignant reminder of the love that once burned brightly but now smolders in the ashes of what could have been. The echoes of his unspoken regrets reverberate through his being as the envelope changes hands, sealing their fate.

Javier's voice pierces the silence, "Ya está todo" ("It's all done"). Without a single word directed at Jack, everyone exits the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. Your family and the movers pick up the boxes and load them into a truck that will carry them away, transporting them to a place where you can begin anew, free from him.

The sound of the door closing echoes through the nearly empty room, and Jack retrieves his phone, launching the translation app. He enters the phrase "QUE ARDA," and his stomach churns as he reads the translation of what you intend to do with your wedding items and the pictures you once cherished: "LET IT BURN"

Overwhelmed by emotions, Jack collapses onto the bed in the nearly bare room, tears streaming down his face. The weight of his actions and the consequences of his words crash down upon him, suffocating him in remorse and regret. He yearns for a way to turn back time, to rectify the pain he inflicted upon you throughout the years. How did she keep up with everything I put her through? He asks himself. But he knows it's too late. All he can do now is bear the burden of his mistakes and hope that someday, somehow, you can find it in your heart to forgive him.

In the depths of his being, Jack understands that the time for desperate gestures and sentimental hopes has passed. It is a painful admission, an acceptance that their love has slipped through his fingers like grains of sand. And as he looks at his underwear drawer, the image etched into his memory, he carries the burden of his own fault, knowing that he didn't want his wounds to fully heal, which, in turn, caused your own wounds.

Extended note: (Repeating from my previous Dave post from yesterday, because I believe there isn't much overlap between Jack and Dave fans. So I'm sharing this here as well.) As I mentioned in my initial post, I have been writing fanfiction for a long time. However, I recently decided to start sharing some of my work. English is my third language, and while I have experience writing and publishing grants, research papers, proposals, and so on, it’s nothing compared to fanfiction and erotica. Also, I have always had a team to revise my work, so this is definitely outside of my comfort zone. With this being said, I apologize for any and all mistakes because if I read this over, I’ll overthink and not post.

I don't know when the next part will be up because I like to create dividers and the image displayed at the top of the post. I'm not quite sure what to call it—Collage-like manner gifs? Banner? Oh, and I'm horrible at graphic design, so it took me an embarrassing amount of time to create the ones included here.

If you've read this far, thank you, and have a great day 🤎

Please feel free to comment and reblog! (If you would like to, of course :)

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heavyhitterheaux · 9 months

Note

Concept for First Lady

"I saved your fucking image."

“We always don’t do anything, you brought it up so I answered your question.” You fired back while looking at the two mismatched socks on your feet.

“I’m trying here so the least you can do is cut me some slack!”

“Jackman, if this is what you call trying to at least attempt to act like you care about this marriage, this is one hell of a poor job.”

It took him hearing it from his mother to finally realize it.