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#we know how she get pissed off on many little things
certifiedcrybabyyy · 11 hours
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His Dear (Pt2)
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Warnings: Literally none besides the cannibals in Cannibal Town being.... well... cannibals of course. And some slight cussing of course, because it's Hazbin. Also much like Alastor, you too have the powers of shadow warping/umbrakinesis!
CHAPTER 1
I set down a tray of fingers at the table inside Rosie's Emporium to a group of children cannibals who just ran in. "Thank you, Mrs Hartfelt!" they beamed with their big toothy grins going from ear to ear. I simply pat one of their heads, "Anytime, darlings. Now eat up." I smiled before walking towards the back of the building. I see Rosie sitting down with a local cannibal yet I still walked up to her, taking a seat directly next to her as she gave her advice to the local. "Thank you very much, Rosie. As always, greatly appreciated." The cannibal thanked her before disappearing out of the emporium. "Hello, dear. How are you? Did you feed those children?" she questioned, with her big signature smile. I nodded in response, "Indeed, they're a cute little bunch." I smiled, looking back at them from a distance. "Oh, doll. The way you take care of them, you would've made a great mother." she grabbed my hand, giving me the compliment. I only stayed silent, giving her a weak smile. "I heard he's back, doll. He's at the Hazbin Hotel with the princess of Hell, Charlotte Morningstar." Rosie whispered, making sure no one else could hear. "M-My Alastor?" I gasped, "The one who left without a fucking word 7 years ago?" I hissed, crossing my arms. "I would be upset too, my doll. But the love story between you two goes so far.... you're bound to get over it eventually." she commented, placing a hand on my shoulder. "He instantly went to the princess? Didn't bother coming to see his wife of God knows how many goddamn centuries now?!" My body grew tense as my eyes went all black and my antlers grew slightly; Safe to say my blood was boiling. "Doll, have a coffee and relax. Let's not get worked up about it too much. I only just heard the news. Maybe we should give him some time to come find you, yeah?" Rosie suggested. I shook my head in anger, the tears just wanted to come spilling out but I held them back. I cleared my throat before giving Rosie a faint smile, "Coffee you said?" I asked, as my antlers returned to their regular shape.
A couple weeks have gone by and yet not a single fucking thing from my long-time husband. Day by day, it was starting to piss me off and poor Rosie had to put up with my sour attitude as I worked with her at the emporium. But today, she had suggested that I stay behind at home and just let the anger out there so I didn't drive any of the cannibals away from my temper tantrum. I was currently sitting on the floor of my bedroom, mixing my coffee with a spoon. The poor coffee has been getting stirred for the past 15 minutes as my mind just wandered off into who knows where. Why wouldn’t he come visit me? After 7 years!? Wouldn't he come running to me? I know since we got into Hell together that he isn't as affectionate as he used to be when we were humans but he still found his unique ways to let me know. This hurts way too much... And I felt my shadows giving me a soft hug. Just like Alastor, I have my own shadows and I have a deeper connection/bond with mine. There was a rapid knock at my door which startled my shadows, causing them to disappear. I stopped mixing my coffee and stood up, "Shut the fuck up, I'm coming." I grumbled.
I opened the door to see him, my strawberry pimp of a husband, the radio demon, aka Alastor. "Hello, darling. What a pleasure to see you, quite the pleasure." He still kept his radio voice, classic Alastor. "Where the hell have you been?" I snapped as he just pushed past me and waltzed right into my home. "Have you not noticed it has been seven damn years, Al?" I got angrier, antlers growing and my voice go a bit deeper as my eyes went all black, "You left me behind, with no goodbyes, no nothing! I don't hear from you, I don't even hear if you're okay, nothing! You left me with NOTHING!" I shouted as I grabbed him by his coat collar, shoving him into a nearby wall . He simply chuckled, "Well, my dear. I can see my unexpected leave left a negative impact on you and your well being." he said, watching the angry tears fall down my face as he pat my head gently. "Where the fuck did you go?" I growled under my breath. "Language, my dear, remember who you're speaking to." his radio voice grew deeper and a bit more stern, "But as to where I've been? Don't worry your pretty little head about it, but I'm sure you have theories. I'd love to hear about them!" he spun his microphone in his hands, before making it disappear into the shadows. "But you come back and went to the fuck-" His eyes gleamed down on me as his antlers slightly grew a bit and his eyes had dials in them, basically meaning 'watch it, miss', "The freaking princess of Hell and didn't even bother coming to see me!" I corrected my language as my antlers returned to their normal size and my eyes were back to normal. "Well dear, there was business I had to attend to, but I am here now right?" he questioned, tilting his head slightly. "Whatever I guess. Even though you are a few weeks late." I huffed, crossing my arms as I turned away from him.
I felt his cold hands with the sharp nails grab my face, making me turn to face him. "I missed you too, my dear." he mumbled, before kissing my forehead. "Fucking asshole." I quietly muttered as my face heated up from his affection. "What was that, dear?" he hummed as he scanned my apartment. "Mhm, nothing, my love." I innocently smiled. "Maybe it's time we take you out of this apartment and you come stay with me at the princess's damned hotel." he suggested. "I normally stay around and help Rosie at the emporium." I sighed, picking up my coffee off the ground. "I did see her before coming here... She did mention it was alright." he sat on my bed. "My, this is rather uncomfortable. I can get you a much better one at the hotel." he scoffed, looking extremely uncomfortable on my mattress. "It's all I could afford. Not like I slept much with your absence anyways. But, staying with the princess of Hell? Sounds a bit intimidating." I shrugged. "Husker and Niffy are with us too, I’m sure you must remember them." he whipped his microphone out from the shadows, thumping it onto my bedroom floor. "Awe Husker! And Niffty is there too! Fine. Give me a day to pack-" All he did was snap his fingers and all my items were boxed up. "Seriously, you never let me down any work." I scoffed, rolling my eyes. "A true gentleman never lets his woman lift a finger. Now, let's get moving, shall we?" he smiled, holding his hand out for me to grab. I finally smiled, he was here. He's back, and he's with me once again. I held his hand, "Let's go, mon amour." I blushed as we walked out my apartment.
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tag list: @jyoongim @froggybich @mvskedxrtist @breedemon @popamolly @dasimp777 @roxxie-wolf @sky2lar
A/N: And that is a wrap on part 2, hope you enjoyed it! Thank you so much for reading, have a good one! I know it's a bit longer than PT1 but it just felt right; it's the way I had written it. Comment if you’d like to be added to the taglist!!
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oceandriveab · 3 days
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how do you think rafe would react if jack got mia pregnant???? cause i feel like he’d flip out and be angry at her, then feel like he failed as a parent if his daughter got pregnant even tho she’s 18
he would freeeeeaaaakkkkkkk the fuck owt😭
i think u sent another ask w the same concept and i’ve been teetering on it bc i’m not sure if i wanna add ANOTHER baby to the mix LMAO but i still wanna talk ab it because i think it’d definitely be interesting !!!!!!!!!! cw: teen pregnancy, rafe is pissed (like actually pissed off this time. like he is shouting) that’s ab it!
we will not see any more of mia’s baby past this BTW, i just wanted to write an this!
she’d tell rhett before she told mom and rafe because that’s her little brother and despite them being kind of close in age (if she’s 18 here then he’s 16), they’re actually super close <3 so she’d tell him when they were home alone one day and he’d be like 😦WHAT????!????? and she’d just be like “I KNOW!!!!! what the FUCK am i gonna do??!?” and then they’re both freaking out and pacing around the house bc what the fuck are they gonna do?!?!!??!!!!!! and how is rhett gonna keep this big secret when he runs his mouth 25/8?!?!!!!! (😭😭😭)
that night or a day or so later, she’d finally tell mom and rafe. she’d sit them down in the living room and they’d immediately be on alert because they could tell something was wrong.
she was wringing her hands and fidgeting with her rings and not holding eye contact- which is so unlike her!!!
“what’s goin’ on, sweetheart?” rafe asks, all concerned.
“i, um, oh my god.” when mia starts hyperventilating and crying, mom and rafe immediately pull her into a little group hug, shushing her and telling her it will be okay.
“mimi, it’s alright. just tell us what’s going on.”
“i don’t know how.” she cried out, breaking your heart at the way her voice broke.
“what do you mean?” you brush her hair away from her face and bring her chin up to look at her eyes.
“i’m pregnant. i-i took a test and-and i went to the doctor and they saw the baby and everything and i don’t know what to do. i’m sorry. i’m so so sorry.” sobs wracked mia’s body as she buried her face into your shirt.
rafe blinked very slowly, trying to process what she just said.
you saw the way his jaw clenched and it made your heart race. he’d came a long way from the way he was as a teenager, but certain situations could still provoke that temper- and this was definitely one of those situations.
“mia, baby-“
“go to your room.” rafe told her, sternly.
mia clenched onto your shirt tightly and you looked at rafe, silently pleading him to relax.
“dad, ‘m sorry! i-i didn’t-“
“what did i just say?” his booming voice made both you and mia flinch.
“just go to your room, baby girl. i’ll be up there soon.” you kissed her head comfortingly as she nodded and got up, running into her room.
“rafe-“
“don’t.” rafe was standing up now, pacing around the room with his hands pulling at his hair.
“rafe, you need to-“
“y/n, fucking stop. just-just stop! i don’t wanna hear it!”
“she’s-“
“she’s fucking pregnant! do you realize that? did you hear what the fuck she was saying while you were sitting there coddling her, huh? she is fucking pregnant. our daughter is having a baby, y/n.” rafe stared at you incredulously as he waved his hands around.
“i know, rafe! i fucking know! but, the last thing she needs is for us to freak out on her! she is fucking terrified right now and she does not need you making that shit worse!” you rose from your seat, standing across from rafe.
“you know what the last thing i need right now is? a fucking grandchild! and-and what the fuck does this say about me, huh? about us? she knows this family has a reputation to uphold and she’s out here getting fucking pregnant?! after i told her and told her and told her, i don’t know how many goddamn times, that she had no fucking business having sex but if she chose to, she needed to be extremely fucking careful! you-you’re too fuckin’ soft on her, y/n! i shoulda’ wore her ass out when we caught her with that fucking hickey that day. but no! no! you were all ‘it’s okay, rafe!! she’s just a teenager!!’ look at her now- fucking pregnant at eighteen! guess we’ve both fuckin’ failed her.” rafe’s shouting made tears roll down your cheeks.
you understood his point, but you also knew how mia was feeling- causing you to have mixed emotions about the whole situation.
“rafe, please-“
“no. i-i need to get the fuck out of here.” you tried to rush after him when you saw him grab his keys but by the time you reached him, the door was slammed in your face.
you stood at the shut door and cried silently.
what the fuck are you going to do?
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loosescrewslefty · 12 days
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This was absolutely brilliantly done.
Because this isn't Anya's most closely guarded secret being discovered by accident without her consent. She made an active, CONSCIOUS choice to tell Damian that she is a telepath. Something that she was previously terrified would lead to her being hated if someone happened to find out. And throughout this little prom arc we slowly get fed the reasons that lead up to this moment. First being that while she initially saw Damian as a bratty, self centered jerk, Anya has slowly come to know him better and see a more noble and compassionate boy under all that cocky bluster.
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Then there's the way Damian also mentions to her that many people try and use him in order to get close to his parents-- which she sees for herself when the other girls start swarming him demanding to dance-- hence his suspicions of her own intentions.
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And the finally is the fact that, despite his own admission that his parents barely acknowledge he's alive, Damian still loves and admires them and is desperate to earn their affection.
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In fact, during the Damian quiz, it's implied that Anya didn't use her powers to figure out who Damian's most beloved person was, because she already knew the answer just from knowing him. It's the only question we don't see her telepathic 'sparkles' or hear her listening on the answer.
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It happened slowly and subconsciously, but despite the unflattering first impression Anya has come to care about Damian. She doesn't want him to be hurt or sad. She doesn't want to use him or take advantage of him the way she sees others try to (and the way a small subset of the fandom accuses Anya of trying to since they can't seem to grasp that Anya is at most six years old and hasn't thought as far as to how the fallout of Twilight's mission will affect the Desmonds). And she understand him a lot better than she ever realized. She trusts him with her deepest, darkest secret despite her fear and the uncertainty because she genuinely WANTS to be honest with Damian. It's her olive branch to him, after HE was vulnerable with her time and again when it comes to his family and his fear of letting others close after so many people tried to use him for his name.
Because more than anyone else, Damian has noticed her, and how intuitive she is of the thoughts of others.
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And despite denying or deflecting it time and time again-- including intentionally bombing a few questions in this chapter to avoid standing out too much after Damian called her out again-- Anya FINALLY came clean to him about her powers.
And, of course, he thought she was messing with him, which in turn pissed HER off because this is her biggest secret, dammnit! XD
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But despite Damian's refusal to believe her ATM, this isn't something Anya can take back, and Damian is perceptive enough of Anya that sooner or later he's going to realize that Anya was being honest with him. And it'll be a wild ride to see where things go from there.
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angelsforthenight · 1 month
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MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader
ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸
do not buy tlou2 remastered!
a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3
you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.
cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.
“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.
see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.
but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?
“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.
that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.
your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.
you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.
“found him yet?” abby sighs.
“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.
“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.
“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.
“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”
your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.
“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!
“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.
despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.
“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.
“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.
with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.
you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.
“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”
“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.
“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.
“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.
it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.
“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”
“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.
the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”
“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”
“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.
“jealousy? really? grow up.”
“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.
“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”
you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.
for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.
“can you slow down?” you glare at her.
“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.
“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”
“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”
abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.
“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.
“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.
“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.
“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.
“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.
“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“
“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.
“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”
“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.
“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.
“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.
“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.
“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.
“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.
you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.
“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.
“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.
“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.
you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.
abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.
desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.
“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.
“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.
“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.
“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.
once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.
“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.
“what?”
“just do it.”
you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.
“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.
you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”
“don’t piss me off.”
you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.
“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”
“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.
“what was that?”
“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.
“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.
“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.
“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.
“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.
see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.
another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.
“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.
“use your words.”
“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.
“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.
“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.
“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.
“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.
abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”
“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.
before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.
“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.
“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.
abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.
“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.
abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.
“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.
“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.
that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.
“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.
“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.
“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.
“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”
and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.
“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.
so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.
a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3
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evilminji · 5 months
Text
I've seen references to it in other Prompts?
But unironically? Paulina should Heckle superheroes more.
Like? Look at her AS A CHARACTER. You think she respects Authority? In their Tacky suits and with their weak ass boundaries she's been stomping over her ENTIRE LIFE, largely unpunished? Because she's Pretty and gifted in the Social Grace's department?
Granted, rarely USES them on most of these needs. But she HAS them and CAN. Why do you thinks she THE popular girl? Looks? Please. There are plenty of pretty girls out there. SHE can make you feel like you're the most important person in the whole world. Her BEST friend.
SHE put in the work to have flawless skin and a complexe social network based on future networth and political significance. A cute butt. Socials beyond reproach.
And SHE? Is so, SO fuckin PISSED.
Her Boo (don't judge her, it's a cute pun) is being SHOT at! Is run in to the ground EXHAUSTED. Doing jobs that CERTAIN people should be getting off their asses to do. CERTAIN people keep making pretty little speechs and getting good PR, while out here HER BOO is getting LAZER HOLES punched through him!
He should be of DATES. Laughing and going for flights. Sitting in the bleachers of cheer practice, safe and silly and shouting tips even though he doesn't know the first thing about Cheer. Getting to be YOUNG. In love!
And Paulina? Always on her phone. Their socials are just... RIGHT THERE. Oooh, Mr. "We protect everybody, aren't we such GOOD GUYS~☆" Her favorite flats! And, maybe, yeah, it's the pain from getting THROWN from the top of the pyramid they were practicing by that fucking GIW explosion.
Maybe it's the fact that Phantom hand to shield her with his BODY and those bastards SHOT at them. Could be the squad egging her on, furious and phones out. But how the weather in Metropolis, Supes? Enjoying up in your little ivory tower? Guess only city kids matter, huh?
Fastest man alive to ignore a genocide, HUH, Flash?
Nice Speech, Wonder Hypocrite. Guess "all woman are Amazons" until they're DEAD. Then you can do what you want to them?
Just. These Pretty, Bland, Offend No One, We're Aiming For Good Sport Colleges And Know They Check These accounts? Going NUCLEAR. All pretty, made for TV faces too. The sort of thing that makes for GREAT news segments and terrible PR.
Because? If Paulina is doing it? Well, A Lister solidarity. Jocks gotta have their back. They've been holding back some Opinions(tm). Time to throw um to the web.
And the blockades? Doesn't do SHIT. Because the GIW forgot one simple factor(well, MANY factors).
Cheerleaders have Away Games.
Paulina and Company? If they can't text INSIDE Amity? Fine. They'll cue them up. Release them at Amity VS. Whatever loser they're crushing next. Rah, rah, go teeeeam! Guess who has internet nooooooow!
GIW may have access to high tech devices and authoritarian control... but they're IDIOTS prone to easily avoidable human errors.
Meanwhile? Most of the JLA is metaphorically ON FIRE.
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melrodrigo · 5 months
Text
my hair
Wednesday Addams x Fem Reader
Summary: Wednesday lets you braid her hair.
Word Count: 1.1k
A/N: I don’t think I used any pronouns, so it’s gender neutral really (at least i think so, i can’t rmb) inspired by none other than Ariana Grande’s ‘my hair’. happy halloween 🎃!
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“Wednesday.”
The name tumbles out of your lips as easy as the flow of water on a steep channel, and you wonder how a simple word like a day of the week has turned into such a gratifying one.
“Wednesday, Wednesday, Wednesday.” You mumble mindlessly, combing your fingers through her jet black hair.
She makes a tiny huff of annoyance as she stirs in your arms.
She knows you have a thing for words, whether it be big love confessions or simply saying her name throughout the day, which is a thing she’s been trying to get better at, for you. It’s hard, but she’s morphed into the phase of getting used to your soft words and whispered endearments. She bites back the tiny part of her that wants to ignore them, instead letting them seep into and have their way with her.
You ruffle her hair fondly, but not too hard, well aware of how sensitive your girlfriend is about her hair.
It’s something you’ve come to learn about Wednesday, through your many years together.
She does not like her hair to be touched. She also famously doesn’t let anyone else but you touch it.
Admittedly, it only makes you want to touch her hair more.
You nudge her slightly, murmuring in her ear that you guys have to get up for class.
“Ms. Thornhill is going to be so pissed when she finds out I spent the night again.” You say mindlessly, feeling Wednesday tighten on top of you.
She’s still only a second before she’s sitting up straight, rigid, a classic Addams family stance.
“You did sneak in, didn’t you?” She asks.
You roll your eyes, nudging at her to loosen up a little.
“Yes, Wednesday. I attempted to sneak in. She, however, was waiting right outside your dorm room.” You recount, from just the night before.
She turns to you, eyes squinted.
The sight of you makes her heart do a little dance she wasn’t aware it could do. She’ll never understand it, the way you make her dull black heart race. It beats to the melody of her favorite symphony, fast paced and rapid.
Your hair’s a little ruffled, cheeks a little red, while you sit at the head of her bed in your best matching pjs.
She ponders about your words just a moment before she’s speaking again.
“Good. She should know that you’ll be sleeping in here for the rest of the year.” She says, finally.
You grin, childlike.
She purses her lips and makes the decision before she regrets it.
“Do my hair?” She asks, almost more of a command than a question.
You have to keep yourself from practically jumping off her bed in excitement. She’s never asked that before. You try to act nonchalant as you think about it.
Wednesday knows you better though, and she can already tell by the sparkle in your eyes that you’ll say yes.
You could never say no to your girl, after all.
You nod eagerly, following Wednesday out the bed and over to her desk like a love sick puppy.
“Enid better not come in and see this.” Wednesday grumbles, reaching over to grab her hairbrush, one as black as obsidian.
“It would be better than when she came in last night while we were-“ Wednesday squeezes your wrist tight, a sign to shut up, and so you do.
She takes a few rubber bands out her beloved spider shaped box, one you’d given her as an anniversary gift, and places them in a single file line.
You gulp as you realize what you’ve signed up for.
She turns to look at you expectedly, speaking with her eyes.
“Okay..braids.” You whisper underneath your breath, trying to remember how to braid hair.
To her credit, Wednesday doesn’t say anything the whole while you do her hair. Not a complaint about the way it looks, or how you’ve done it.
But you aren’t that dumb. You see through your girlfriends expression in seconds. And you’re self aware, you know you haven’t done the greatest job.
It’s not horrible, by any means. But it’s just not the Wednesday Addams picture perfect braids.
One side is noticeably looser than the other, and it looks more like a loop than a braid.
“Are you finished?” Wednesday inquires, about to get out her seat.
You push her shoulders down softly, and tell her you have a special surprise.
You pull out a set of dark blue bows, tiny compared to her long locks of hair.
“Absolutely not.” She says the minute you show them to her, shaking her head to affirm her statement.
You pout, giving Wednesday your best puppy dog eyes, but her face remains impassive.
“Just one?” You plead, playing with the tips of her braids.
Wednesday lets out a soft sigh and begrudgingly tilts her head so you can put on the bow easier.
“Love you so much.” You whisper, pressing your hand to her cheek lovingly.
You better, she thinks.
“Now, I believe we need to attend class in five minutes. You’ve already made me soft. Don’t make me unpunctual too.” She says, the edge coming back to her voice.
“Wait, are you actually gonna go out like that?” You ask, a little shocked.
“Going to, y/n. There is no such word as ‘gonna’.” She says, and turns on her heel out the door, sure you’ll be hurrying after her in minutes.
-
Everyone stares at Wednesday as you both enter the class. You’re not late, but everyone’s there already. They size up your girlfriend, questioning gaze apparent as they take in her hair.
“Um..Wednesday?“ Enid sounds from the back of the class, “Why does your hair look like that? And are you wearing a bow?”
You flush pink in embarrassment. Was it really that bad?
One look at you and Wednesday decides she has to once again come to your aid when she clears her throat, directing all attention back to her.
“My hair is normal. And I quite like the bow.” She says, in a tone of voice that indicates that that’s the end of the story.
Wednesday keeps her hair like that the rest of the day. Not once does she touch it, or take it out, even with random inquires coming from all the students at Nevermore.
That evening, you catch her grumbling before you enter her room for your nightly kiss on the cheek, words muffled by the door.
“Love has made me so feeble.” She mumbles dejectedly.
You push open the door, pretending you didn’t hear what you just did, and give her just a slightly longer kiss than you normally would, happy as a clam.
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roosterforme · 2 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 27 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just needs your full attention long enough for you to tell him what's bothering you, and for you to pick out a new car. He comes home from golfing completely unwilling to let you gloss things over, but the conversation veers off course once again when you share some big news.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, oral, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff
Length: 5400 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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By the eighteenth hole, Bradley was restless. This was taking forever. He somehow forgot how meticulous Bob was when he teed off, adding probably a full hour to the golf outing. He bit his tongue and fought the urge to tell Bob to move things along so he could get back home to you. When he left hours ago, you were still sound asleep, and he was concerned that you weren't feeling well. He was also completely fed up with the way you were avoiding conversation.
He played through the last hole as quickly as he could, and when Jake and Javy suggested grabbing lunch and a beer, he made his excuses and a quick exit. "Next time. And it'll be my treat. But I need to get home."
"Angel's got you so pussy whipped," Jake drawled as if he wasn't currently driving his car around complete with a car seat for Jeremiah.
"Do you ever hear me denying it or complaining about it?" Bradley replied as he set his clubs in the back of the Bronco. "I don't think she's feeling great, and I need her to pick out a new car. I'm getting fed up with her dragging her feet. So she's picking something out today."
Jake laughed as he opened his car door. "Yeah, go try to show her who's the boss, buddy. Good luck with that."
Bradley grunted and rolled his eyes. You and he were a team, and if he had to demand that you hear him out, then he'd get his way about it. He was absolutely unwilling to return to a place where the two of you weren't communicating well. But as he drove back home, he was starting to get more annoyed. He already asked you so many times to tell him what was bothering you and what was on your mind, and each time, you'd burst into tears. He didn't even know what the hell he was doing wrong. 
"Fuck," he growled as he pulled into the empty driveway, honestly kind of missing your little shit mobile since it had made you happy. Today was his mom's birthday, and he wanted you to have a good day, but if he pissed you off, then he pissed you off. He was armed with his phone browser open to two options that would just have to be good enough. He left his clubs in the car as he strolled up the walkway to the porch in his white golf pants and floral print shirt. He would just have to get you to accept the fact that a new car needed to happen.
"Sweetheart?" he called out when he opened the door. You and Tramp both came running into the living room. "Hey, we need to talk about some of this shit. Right now."
"Okay, but-"
"Please," he said firmly, holding up one hand. "Just let me say what I need to say, alright?"
You were bouncing on the balls of your bare feet with your hands clasped in front of you. "Okay," you agreed, your voice breathy and light. All he wanted to do was collect you in his arms and smother you in kisses, but he couldn't get sidetracked right now. 
Bradley closed the distance to you but planted his hands on his hips. "I love you so much, but something is not working right now. And I'm not going to let us fall apart again. Ever. I want to talk it through right now, and I need you to participate. Starting with your car."
You reached out and let one hand rest on his abs as your lips parted, but he shook his head. 
"No, seriously, Baby Girl. I will do anything to make you happy, but could you please, please just pick out a car? I don't like leaving you home without one." He paused to lean in and kiss your forehead briefly. "I found a brand new, red Honda Civic with all of the same features as your old one. Same transmission, sunroof, everything. And it's on a lot in Chula Vista. We could go look at it right now."
"Bradley, I don't think that's a good idea," you told him, smiling up at him. He felt his resolve fracturing, but he kept going.
"Well, something has to give here! That's the best I can come up with. Unless... you want to go with the blue one I found online which is exactly the same as the one that I totaled. Same model year and everything, but it's in Maine. If you really want it, we can fly there and drive it back. I already talked to the owner about the price."
"Bradley, I don't want that one either."
He tipped his head back in frustration as your hand caressed him through his shirt. "For the love of god, Sweetheart, I am trying my best here. And you're giving me nothing. And it's not just the car," he snapped as he met your gaze again, eyes wide looking up at him. "You yelled at me for buying the wrong coffee when I thought they just changed the label, and you fell asleep while we were mid conversation. And I hurt you when we were having sex, but you wouldn't even talk about it afterwards. I need you to tell me if I'm not doing it for you, because I don't want to keep fucking this up!"
"You're not fucking anything up," you promised quietly. "You're not, Roo."
He examined your pretty, eager face and shrugged. "Then just tell me what's going on here."
You bit your lip and closed the remaining inches between your body and his, and then you smiled up at him so brilliantly, his breath caught in his lungs. As you carefully wrapped your arms around his waist, you said, "I'm pregnant."
He was frozen in time and space, barely able to process your words as his belly swooped and his heart raced. Pregnant. You were pregnant? He swallowed hard as he let his forehead rest against yours, trying to formulate words.
"Baby Girl, are you really? Pregnant?"
"Yes," you whispered, and Bradley had you in his arms, making you squeal as he lifted you up in the air. 
"You're pregnant?" he asked again, beaming at you as you wrapped your legs and arms around him.
"I'm pregnant!" 
"Holy shit!" he nearly screamed as you buried your face in his neck and laughed in delight. "Holy shit! You're pregnant!"
He didn't know what to do with himself as he held you tight against him, imagining a baby in your arms. His baby. And your baby. Something the two of you had been dreaming about for so long. The one thing he'd had to make himself understand he didn't need at the cost of a happy marriage, but that he'd still yearned for.
Your happy laughter and whispered words had his feet moving toward the bedroom. "You're going to be a dad, Roo." 
He set you down on the bed, covering your body with his large one, careful not to hurt you as your sweet lips met his. "I love you so much," he murmured between kisses that left him breathless. "I fucking adore you, Sweetheart."
You whimpered as he slowly let his hand drift down your body before inching your shirt up and running his knuckles gently along your belly. He kissed you hard on the lips one last him before easing his body down lower, kissing your sternum on his way to your belly button. He thought about the future as he said, "And I adore you, too."
-----------------------
You ran your fingers lazily through your husband's soft curls as his big hand rested on the middle of your belly next to his cheek. He was a little sweaty and still wearing his golf clothes, but everything was just perfect. The edge of his mustache tickled your sensitive skin as he whispered, "I love you."
Everything made sense now which made you feel more settled. Honestly, this was much better than the flu that you thought you had, and you giggled. "You'll be the best Daddy, Bradley."
He looked up your body before kissing you a dozen more times all over your abdomen. Calloused fingers stroked your skin as he looked at you with those big, brown eyes you were completely addicted to. "Fuck. I'm so excited. I don't even know what to do with myself," he told you as you sat up and climbed onto his lap. "You took a pregnancy test?"
"Yes. I had one tucked in the back of the bathroom closet that I bought a few months ago," you whispered, brushing his scarred cheek with your lips and the tip of your nose. 
"Where's the test?" he asked, scooping you up in his arms again as you told him it was in the bathroom. "I want to see it." You'd managed to pick it up off the floor earlier before examining it for about five minutes with tears in your eyes before you left it on the vanity. And now Bradley set you down, but he kept one arm around you as he picked it up. "Two lines means you're pregnant?" he asked, looking at you in reverence. 
You nodded and whispered, "Yes," and then his eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Roo."
"Sweetheart. You're pregnant," he said so softly. "We're going to have a baby."
"Yes," you confirmed as you wiped at his tears with your thumbs while he held onto the test. "I realized when I woke up that my period was late, and then I threw up. A lot. So I took the test."
He sucked in a deep, shaky breath before he kissed your forehead. "Do you remember what today is?"
You let your cheek come to rest on his chest as you said, "Of course I do. It's your mom's birthday. I already bought everything to make filet mignon and crab cakes for dinner. But I guess we ended up with a birthday present?"
With lips pressed to your hair, he muttered, "She would have loved this. She would have loved you almost as much as I do. And she would have been a good grandma."
And now you felt more tears stinging at your eyes. It had been nine months of trying for this moment, which wasn't extravagantly long in the grand scheme of things, but it had been stressful and hard on your marriage at times. Bradley was your teammate, and he'd worked as hard as you had to make sure the two of you made it back to a good place.
"Can we go to the store?" he asked suddenly. "Buy some more pregnancy tests so I can be here when you take one? And get some ginger ale if your stomach is still upset?"
"Yeah," you said with a laugh. "If you want."
"I want," he replied immediately, taking you by the hand and leading you toward the front door. His cheeks were flushed pink, and he was all smiles as he stopped on the driveway next to the Bronco and gasped. "The Bronco, Sweetheart."
"What about it?" you asked as he slowly backed you up until your butt hit the passenger side door. Bradley caged you in with a predatory glint in his eye before kissing your forehead softly. But you felt so calm as his hand slipped underneath your shirt, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your belly.
"A Bronco is the solution. It's so clear now. We'll swing by the Ford dealer after the drug store. And then we can drive home in two separate Broncos so you can take the tests. And then we can make my mom's birthday dinner."
Your lips parted, but no words came out, and Bradley dipped his head down to kiss you. He was smiling against your lips as his arms snaked around you. "Another Bronco?" you whispered. "You think?"
"Mmhmm," he hummed as his lips skimmed your cheek. "A lot more indestructible than your old thing. I'm not going to let our baby ride around in a little compact car death trap on wheels. Let's get a second Bronco."
"It wasn't that bad," you muttered, only slightly offended as you recalled the gigantic hole that he'd put in the bottom of your car with his foot. "Are you sure you don't just want to have access to drive two Broncos instead of one?"
Bradley leaned on one forearm against the door, still stroking your belly with his thumb and keeping you calm. "We need something big enough for a car seat to fit comfortably. If you don't want a Bronco, I think you should still consider another SUV. Preferably one I can actually fit in."
You looked up at his handsome and eager face, excitement bubbling under the surface of his expression. He was clearly as excited as you were about the positive test, and he just wanted you to be happy. Hell, he'd offered to drive a car back from Maine with you barely an hour ago. Before he even knew you were pregnant. You were still having a hard time wrapping your mind around it yourself. 
Tears stung your eyes, and Bradley's smile faltered a little bit. "Listen," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "Anything you want to drive, okay? Anything you want. But I think we need to look at the safety ratings and all that shit if you really want a compact car again."
"I don't want a compact car again," you hiccupped. "I was trying to tell you that earlier. We can go look at Broncos. I'm just so emotional. I can't seem to control it. But at least I know where it's coming from now."
Bradley smiled as he pulled you away from the door before opening it, and then he buckled you in. "It's coming from the little Bradshaw bun in your oven, and I couldn't be happier."
-----------------------------
Even the brief walk around to the driver's side door felt like too much, because Bradley didn't want to stop touching you. As soon as he could, he slipped his hand in yours once again and smiled at you before backing out of the driveway. He'd been ready for this for a long time. He knew he'd always been a step ahead of you; his desire to date you exclusively startled you at first, but he knew pretty early on that you'd be wearing his mom's ring eventually. He was ready for this day before you were, too, but he had tried his best not to rush you here. As soon as you told him you stopped taking your birth control back in November, he was ready for you to be knocked up the next day. 
But now you were, and he was looking forward to all of it. The arguments had been worth it. The way he fucked things up before had been worth it, because both of you worked hard to fix things which told him you were unbeatable. 
"We're going to be awesome parents," he said, making you laugh as he parked at the pharmacy. When you tried to climb out your door, Bradley tugged on your hand and whispered, "Come over here. I don't want to stop touching you. I don't want to let go of you."
You willingly crawled onto his lap and let your cheek come to rest on his shoulder. "Don't let go of me."
"I won't," he promised, stroking your belly again like he just couldn't help himself. "Hey, should we call your parents this weekend and tell them the news?"
You pulled a few inches away from him with a little pout and shook your head. "I think it's too early, Bradley."
"Oh. Right," he replied, suddenly embarrassed that he wasn't sure about all of the timelines and exactly what everything meant.
"You know," you added softly. "In case something... happens to the baby. It's still so early. There's still a good chance that something could go wrong."
Bradley's body felt like it was sent into a freefall just thinking about anything happening to either of you. He held you tighter and kissed you a little rougher than he meant to, making you moan as he shook his head. "No. Don't say that." His voice was thick with emotion as he squeezed his eyes closed. "Don't say that, Baby Girl."
"Okay," you whispered, taking his face in both of your hands and caressing him with your soft and steady fingers. "I won't say it again." You kissed his lips and his scars as you pushed your fingers gently back through his hair which was probably already a mess from golfing earlier. But the more you touched him, the better he felt, and he took a few deep breaths as you said, "But I'm already so attached right now that it's a little scary. Already attached to the baby and the idea of you being a daddy."
"I am too," he promised as he opened his eyes to see you so close to him. "I'm so ready for this."
You kissed him one more time as you whispered, "I love you." And then you led him inside as he remembered all the times he played with Jeremiah and changed his diapers and read him books. Oh shit, he was so excited to have it for himself, he scooped up at least ten pregnancy tests while you laughed and chased him up to the registers. 
"Do you think that's enough?" you asked sarcastically as he leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 
He picked some bottles of ginger ale out of the small refrigerator case next to the register as he said, "Listen, I missed the one from this morning, so you owe me. Just humor me, okay? I want to watch those little lines show up with my own eyes."
As he reached into his pocket for his wallet to pay for the collection of tests, he realized he was still wearing his golf clothes and shoes. In all of his excitement, he'd forgotten to change. And now he was getting excited all over again as he inserted his credit card and looked at you. Should he get you right home to take the pregnancy tests? Take you to bed and show you how attached he was, too? Visit the Ford dealer?
He groaned, knowing the Ford dealer was going to win out since he actually had your attention on the new car right now. "Here," he told you, handing you the bag as he buckled you back in again. "Drink one of the bottles so you'll have enough pee for the tests while I drive us to look at the new Broncos. Start thinking about what color you want."
"Red," you replied immediately. "It's what I had before, plus it's your favorite color."
"Fuck," Bradley practically whined, lacing his fingers with yours. "A hot, pregnant wife, a baby on the way, and two Broncos in the driveway? This might be the best day of my life so far. I don't know how much more I can handle here."
You laughed as he kissed you all over your face, resting his hand gently against your belly through your shirt. His to-do list was growing by the minute, and he was a little alarmed that his heart rate was elevated with no signs of slowing down, but every time he looked at your face he said, "I love you."
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"It's just butter, Bradley," you said as you watched him trying his best to help you cook Carole's birthday dinner. "How are you this bad at melting butter?"
He shot you a playful glare before moving to stand behind you at the stove, wrapping his arms around you so that his hands were resting on your belly. "I'll just watch the pro then."
You shook your head, still a little startled by everything that happened today. An hour at the Ford dealership and the two of you left hand in hand after paying a deposit for the red Bronco that they were going to acquire for you from a dealer in northern California. Then you came home and took ten more pregnancy tests while Bradley sat in the bathroom with you, shooting you his big, soppy brown eyes filled with tears while he smiled. They were all positive, and they were all still lined up on the vanity, and you were pretty sure he kept occasionally sneaking off to look at them.
As you turned the crab cakes over in your cast iron pan, you whispered, "I feel like your mom is watching over us somehow."
"Oh, I have no doubt," he replied immediately, holding you a little tighter and nudging your sore breasts. "Goose, too. But especially her, on her birthday. She'd have been a mess over this news."
You set the spatula down and had to close your eyes. Your hormones were all over the place, and this was the thing that sent you immediately into a fit of body wracking sobs. "What's wrong?" Bradley asked with concern, turning you around and inspecting your hands. "Did you burn yourself?"
"No," you wailed. "I'm just so happy, but it's not fair that your parents aren't here. Like I can deal with the fact that I never got to meet them, but this is so not fair! And I'm sorry, but I can't control my emotions at all."
He pulled you closer and let you cry, kissing your ear and whispering that everything was going to be okay. As you got your breathing under control, he said, "If you're this emotional at like five and a half weeks, I guess I better buckle in for the ride."
You glared up at him before he leaned down to kiss your tears away with a smile, and you let him take the brownies out of the oven and load a plate with dinner. With your hand held in his, Bradley carried the meal to the table, but he led you to the piano instead of one of the chairs. 
"Remember how to play it?" he asked softly as he took a seat and patted the bench next to him. You needed a short tutorial, but he was as patient as ever as he reminded you of the notes. Then you helped him play and sing Happy Birthday to Carole even though it wasn't perfect, and at the end he whispered, "Thanks, mom. Let's go eat, Baby Girl."
You sat perched on his lap like always, mouth watering as you looked at the steak and crab cakes. Everything looked amazing, and you were starving. "How does it taste?" you asked as Bradley took three bites of dinner in rapid succession. 
"Fucking incredible," he replied as you cut yourself a piece of steak. It was buttery and delicious, and it practically melted in your mouth. You moaned as you tried the crab cakes, and they were pretty good, too. About halfway through the meal your stomach lurched, and you turned to look at Bradley. 
He smiled at you as you shook your head and said, "Oh no." You practically fell off of his lap as you ran for the hallway bathroom, barely making it in time to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. He was right behind you, rubbing your back as you sat down hard on the floor and caught your breath. 
"This is a pregnancy thing, right?" he asked softly. "Morning sickness?"
You nodded. "I think so. I was going to call my doctor on Monday anyway and tell her about my positive tests, but I'll tell her about this, too."
Bradley collected you in his arms and asked, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," you whined, letting your forehead come to rest against his sternum. 
"I have an idea," he replied. A few minutes later, you were sitting on the couch with a plate of crackers smeared with peanut butter in your hand and the trash can on the floor in front of you. Bradley finished eating the plate of Carole's birthday dinner, and now he was working on cleaning up the kitchen while he dug into the tray of brownies. You gingerly bit into one of the crackers, and your stomach growled but didn't lurch. So you kept going. 
It took you an hour, but you finished the whole plate as you thought about how things would change around here with a baby involved. Nothing seemed too startling though, probably because you'd been subconsciously looking forward to this for such a long time. You knew Bradley was as well. And the way he came out to check on you several times as he cleaned up the house had you swooning over your husband a little bit.
You shared the last cracker with Tramp and then stood to take your plate to the kitchen where Bradley was leaning on the island looking at his phone. "What are you doing?" you asked him.
He looked up at you and blushed a little bit. "Looking at crib bedding," he replied, and you practically tossed the plate at the sink before hurrying to his arms. "You feeling better?"
You nodded. "Crib bedding?" You were instantly melting into his touch. 
"Yeah. I thought we could do airplanes?" 
You whimpered against his muscular chest as he pocketed his phone. "Yes, Roo, we can do airplanes."
He rubbed your back as you tucked your hands up inside the golf shirt he had been wearing all day and let your fingers skim along his abs. "I'm just really excited about this," he said, voice full of emotion. "All the baby stuff. And a nursery. I was already thinking about finishing the attic, but now we should definitely do it so your parents can stay up there when they visit their grandchild. And we can get those convertible car seats for both Broncos. And we should probably start looking at daycares before the baby is born. Like the really good daycares, you know?"
"Oh fuck," you moaned as you looked up at him. "Bradley. You're incredible." You rubbed yourself against the fly of his white pants, and both of his eyebrows shot up.
"You want to?" he rasped, and you started pulling him toward the bedroom. "Last time we had sex, I hurt you, Sweetheart. I don't want to do that again."
"You won't," you promised as you tugged off his shirt. "You won't, because I know what's going on now."
He nodded and reached for his pants zipper as you quickly got yourself undressed and climbed into bed. Bradley watched you as he struggled with his shoes and socks before he could take his pants off, and the two of you shared a laugh. Then you bit your lip as his hard cock sprung free, practically vibrating with anticipation as he plopped down on the bed on his back. 
"Come here," he whispered, but when you started to straddle his hips, he shook his head. "No. Up here." You leaned down to kiss him, and he welcomed you with a smile on his face, but after his tongue tangled with yours he broke the kiss. "I want you to sit on my face."
"Oh," you gasped as he reached for your butt and pulled you up until you were straddling his neck. Then his mouth was on you, and you were reaching for the headboard with one hand as your fingers grasped Bradley's curls with the other. He was so gentle, kissing up and down your most intimate parts before separating you with his nose. "Oh my god," you whined as he nudged your clit and looked up at you before starting to suck. 
You were already pulsing around nothing, your fingernails scraping along his scalp as you rolled your hips gently against his mouth. Bradley licked you up and back before sucking gently again. The more aroused you got, the more your boobs hurt, but it wasn't as bad as last time. Not when his mouth was doing everything to make you wetter as he gently ran his hands along the backs of your thighs and your butt.
It would have come as no surprise to you if he told you that you were dripping wet now as you whispered, "I want your cock."
Bradley practically growled as he released you, his mouth glistening as he licked his lips. "Only if I'm not going to hurt you," he reiterated, voice deep and gravelly as you moved further down his body. "Stop me if I am."
You lifted his length and slipped him slowly inside you as he grunted and propped himself up on one hand. "Feels good," you promised him as you pushed and pushed until he was fully seated. His eyes were big pools as he hesitated a bit before kissing the valley between your breasts, his lips feather light. And that was exactly what you needed as he brought his other hand up to your belly. 
"I love you," he whispered, letting his lips barely caress your nipple as you rocked slowly. "I love you so much, Sweetheart." 
When his tongue grazed your breast, you whined for more, so he took your nipple between his lips. Instead of sucking, he let his tongue drift along lazily as you barely rocked your hips backward and forward, playing with his hair. "I love you, Daddy," you told him as you smirked. 
He looked up at you as he released your breast and gently started to lick your left one as you cupped his cheek. Between kisses and soft nuzzles, Bradley poured his heart out to you as you enjoyed the feel of him, thick and delicious inside you.
"I'll take care of both of you. Always. I'm going to love you forever. I'll never stop. You're perfect. So fucking perfect. I can't get enough. I can't wait for everything."
You were barely moving on his cock when you came hard, your nipples wet to the cool air from his saliva and your fingers gripping his hair. "Bradley. Bradley. Bradley," you panted, squeezing him so tight as you pulsed around him. 
He grunted, watching your face as he let himself come undone, too. He was still breathing heavily as he leaned back against the pillows, and you sank down on top of him. "I didn't hurt you?"
"Not at all," you promised. "My breasts are so tender, but that felt amazing."
"Got it," he whispered, nodding as he wrapped his arms around you. Very slowly you let your body press to his, careful to get into a position that didn't make you want to wince. "I can be extra gentle," he promised. "I can be anything you need. Anything either of you need."
A chill rippled through your body at his words, because you knew they were true. You leaned up and looked at his handsome face, cheeks flushed and lips softly parted. When you kissed him, he tasted like you. His softening cock was still inside you, but neither of you made any move to get cleaned up quite yet.
"You can't stop touching me, can you?"
"I can, Sweetheart. I just don't want to," he replied softly from where he had his face buried against your neck. "Hey, we should go to bed early since you've been so tired. Maybe the baby needs the extra sleep."
"Oh," you gasped, pulling back and examining his face. "Early." You figured you had to be between five and six weeks pregnant, but the last time you had your period, it had come early. 
"What?"
Your mind was swirling as you did the math, and a smile broke out on your face. 
"What?" he asked again, looking at you in puzzlement.
If your period had been early, then you were probably only still ovulating for the very first day that Bradley had been home from his special mission. You started laughing as you kissed him over and over again before rolling onto your back and cracking up. 
"Tell me," he said, rolling to his side next to you as he started laughing, too.
"Oh my god, Roo," you wheezed. "I think you got me pregnant when you totaled my car."
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A BABY!! A BRADSHAW BUN IN THE OVEN! MOM AND DAD! Do you want to read more of the pregnancy adventure? I hope so. The fact that this has been planned out for the past year is just wild to me, and I'm so happy I got to share it with you. Thanks for everything @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 28
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Text
It's a Match! || poly!141 x Reader
[Chapter 21] || [Chapter 22.5] || [Chapter 23]
Pairing: Ghost x Price || Price x Reader || 141 x gn!Reader Words: 1.8K cw: drunk kissing, cheating (mentioned) Summary: While overcoming recent heartbreak, you decide to join Tinder in search of a rebound. Your friends advise to just Swipe Right indiscriminately... What happens when 4 soldiers from the same squad match with you? a/n: we find out what happened in cardiff. i love vulnerable john.
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Chapter 22: What is it about you?
“C’mon, Boss, up you go.” Simon told him as he hoisted the man up to his feet by wrapping an arm around the small of his back, and tossing the other over his own shoulders.
“I don’t know how she could do that to me, Simooooon,” John’s words and feet dragged a bit and tripped over each other, uncoordinated due to the excess alcohol.
John was constantly self-sabotaging back then, feeling sorry for himself, mourning his relationship and the wife who took advantage of his common absences to justify her need to step out on him.
When John was sober and busy with work, he was still the same as always: deadly efficient, a good communicator, a great strategist…
But when they went on leave…
It left Simon having to be the one picking up the pieces. Simon’s moved to Cardiff from Manchester many years ago, not quite enjoying Hereford enough to want an off-base flat in the same city as the base, and, now that he’s separated, John’s also moved to Cardiff to stay on Simon’s couch.
Or it would be his couch if he didn’t get pissed every night and leave Simon fearing for his life and the fact he might vomit and suffocate in it in the night, so he carries him to bed every time. The bed might as well have been John’s at that point.
Somehow he was able to wrangle John back to his flat.
He helped the man get into his bedroom and lowered him into bed before he pulled off the beanie from his head, then his boots, tossing his legs onto the bed a bit aggressively while the captain sobbed while lying back on the pillows…
“You’ll be alright, Captain.” Simon always tried to say some kind words to ease the drunk, heartbroken man, though he knew it did little.
Simon was strangely thankful Price was a sad drunk instead of an angry or violent one like his own father.
Simon bent over him to unzip his jacket and then was able to curl the man up against his shoulder in order to shimmy his jacket down his arms, like a toddler.
But something about that touch, almost akin to a hug, awoke something in John.
Just as he lowered the older man’s torso down to the bed and his head onto the pillows, he suddenly found himself unable to move, his shoulders being hugged tight by one of John’s arms.
His face was inches from John’s, their noses almost touching, their eyes locked. John’s blue irises were glassy from the alcohol and the tears.
The look in John’s eyes was freaking him out. He was still crying, but he was eerily quiet, not murmuring utter nonsense or pure vitriol for his wife and her lover…
The Mancunian tried to slip John’s arms off him. “C’mon.” He grumbled as he craned his neck back to try and wrangle off the embrace.
“Stay…” John pleaded, his eyes softening, his brows lowered pitifully.
“I’m right here, Boss.” Simon assured him as he once again tried to take Price’s arm off his vise-like grip around him.
It didn’t work. The grip just got tighter, his body trembling beneath Simon’s. “Please, stay...” He implored.
Before Simon could realize what was happening, his lips had been captured by John’s, a slow, tender thing, almost like John himself wasn’t 100% sure of what he was doing (and he really wasn’t) but wanted to do it nonetheless.
There was no tongue action, just a rubbing of lips and an exchanging of breathy sighs before Simon was smart enough to pull away, eyes a bit widened for what they had just done. 
But Price seemed like he was still on the verge of crying, teetering the edge of his fear of being rejected again. He just needed affection....
Simon’s own eyes softened as he saw the state Price was in. He took a deep breath and pressed his lips together. Giving up on getting out of the embrace, he simply nodded. “Fine. I’m stayin’.”
Carefully, Simon toed off his own shoes and took off his fleece jacket. He tossed everything on the floor haphazardly, before he shifted around the bed in John’s embrace and vaulted over him, coming to lay on the other side of the bed.
John cuddled up to Simon’s body and, tentatively, the blond wrapped his arms around Price’s shoulders and neck as the brunet sunk in the embrace and hid his mustachioed face in Simon’s neck, big burly arms wrapped around the narrower part of his waist.
Price resumed his sobbing, hidden in Simon’s arms, hugging him uncomfortably tight, like a lifeguard buoy in open water. 
Simon ran his fingers over John’s hair, caressing his scalp with his fingertips. “Not going anywhere, John, I promise.” Simon assured him.
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It’s 10 P.M. and you’re just turning off your TV to move your lounging to the bedroom when the doorbell rings.
Once again, you’re not expecting anyone… But the lads have gotten much better at warning you in advance when they’re dropping by… So it puts you on edge again.
Tip-toeing to the intercom, you murmur into the receiver. “What?”
“It’s John, darling.” The voice of the older man comes through, causing your eyes to widen. What’s he doing here? 
You buzz him in all the same. Only once you hear his knuckles rapping the door, do you open it, finding him standing on the other side.
He’s wearing an army green fleece jacket, a black hoodie, tan cargo pants, and black boots. And he doesn’t look particularly happy.
You let him inside and he has the decency to take off his boots, jacket and beanie, before he gestures you both onto the couch.
The memory of the way he kissed you and tossed you both down onto it last time he was here comes flowing back and you look away and take a breath to suppress it.
“The lads told me about the four of you” He tells you as he looks at you, sitting by your side, your knees just barely brushing, his hands clasped together and hanging between his thighs.
“They did?” You ask him, earning a nod in reply. “You didn’t know this whole time?” You ask again.
“No.” He says simply. “And they didn’t tell you I tore ‘em a new one for what they’re doing?” He returns. 
You shake your head, which makes him sigh. “Figured as much.”
“You need to know that-”
“I promise I don’t-”
You both cut each other off and blink away the confusion before you do that weird shimmy of trying to let the other talk.
He ends up taking the initiative. “You need to know that it’s puttin’ ‘em all at risk to be seein’ you and each other, especially each other. Simon’s my second-in-command… and it’s against the code of conduct for ‘em to be with their ‘boss’.” He explains.
His explanation makes your eyes soften and you look away with a sigh, mirroring his pose and letting your hands hang between your legs. “I didn’t know it’d get ‘em in trouble…” You explain.
Taking another deep breath, you shift around in your seat. “I was about to say I promise I don’t want to get them in trouble or steal them from work or making you have to call like… dozens of times again to get them to come in, because I know that was bad, even if it was an accident but-” You rant a bit.
John’s watching you closely as you justify yourself and them and promise you have the best of intentions, how you like them all so much and you could never dream of getting them in trouble and…
“What is it about you?” He interrupts you, causing you to face him suddenly and stare at him.
“Pardon?” You ask him, blinking slowly before raising your brows.
“Why… Why them? All of them?” He asks.
Your face scrunches a bit, your brow setting over your eyes. “Are you trying to insult me? That feels insulting.” You grumble.
He sighs and shakes his head, before rubbing his eyes with his middle finger. “No. I- I’m sorry.” He says as earnestly as he can. “Just trying to understand.”
“Some people have a thing for men in uniform but that means they date multiple of ‘em across a number of years… They don’t usually form a… harem with ‘em all at once.” He explains.
The idea of a harem makes your face flush warm and look away. “I don’t know.” You reply directly. “Maybe there’s just something wrong with me.” You say directly. 
John keeps staring at you as you speak. “I went from a very unfulfilling relationship, I don’t know if I ever mentioned that to you-”
“You did, at the pub.”
“Right, well…” You trail off. “I went from that to… being alone… and then to having a one-night stand with you and then… it was like I woke up one day and had three boyfriends.” You remark and scratch your arm awkwardly.
John’s face scrunches, his mouth disappearing beneath his mustache as he keeps looking at you closely, noticing how awkward you seem. 
“I really don’t want to get them in trouble…” You tell him as you glance up at him, the corners of your eyebrows lowering as you look at him.
He goes quiet for a moment, simply making eye contact with you, as if trying to read your intentions through your pupils.
Then, his hand reaches across the space between you and he gently cups both your hands, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You really like ‘em all, don’t you?”
“Mhm.” You reply and nod.
Sighing, he nods. “Just try to keep from kissing in public to a minimum, will ya? Don’t need the brass knowing and having my arse too.” He tells you.
Smiling and chuckling again. “Wouldn’t you, in that case, be in more trouble because you started this whole thing?” You joke.
He nudges your thigh with his knee and rolls his eyes playfully. “Don’t you start, too… I already had to deal with Soap, Gaz and Ghost making comments.” He complains.
“Oh, please… Ghost told me all about how peppy you seemed after that night you spent with me.” You retort and he rolls his eyes again before he taps his thighs with his palms and stands up off the couch.
“I needed it. Did me good.” He replies as he moves back to the door and puts his shoes on.
You follow after him, watching him closely as he puts his outdoor clothes back on. “Did me good too.” You reply.
He chuckles a bit. “Oh, trust me, darlin’, I remember fully well how ‘good’ I did you.” He jokes and winks at you.
“Oh, shut it…” You grumble as you watch him open your door and stand just outside of it, looking at you closely.
“Shame it’ll never happen again. I could’ve used a repeat.” John quips casually. “Have a goodnight.” He kisses your temple and starts walking down the hall.
“Wait, hold on!” You interrupt him, causing him to stop a few feet away, looking at you in the brightly lit hall. Clearing your throat, you swallow dryly before you lock eyes with him and speak again: “What’s stopping it from happening again?”
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FLASHBACK FULLY INSPIRED BY:
taglist (CLOSED! not adding anyone else, sorry!):
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tonysbed · 26 days
Text
Limp dick unicorn
Max verstappen x driver!fem!reader
Summary: Someone pisses Max‘s Girlfriend off and she gives them a piece of her own mad max version
warnings: cursing, mention of violence???
A/n inspired by that one Melissa McCarthy scene 😵‍💫
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You were a polite person. Never overstepping, keeping calm and not letting anyone get you out of that. Well almost.
Max had gotten P2 behind you, bringing you the most wins of the season. Not many have beaten Max, and you were proud to be one of these few people.
You jumped off your car and turned to max. Your face slightly fell, reading his like a book. He was disappointed. Again. He knew what dawned him, and so did you.
The first time Jos acted out was in your 5th race you’ve ever driven for Red Bull in F1. You were walking into Max driver room, not expecting to see max trying to make himself as little as possible while his father was red like a tomato from all the yelling. Jos didn’t care a bit that you were watching.
It had happened a few other times after that.
You stepped closer to Max and hugged him “He’s gonna be so mad” Max whispered.Your arms tightened around him “Then I’ll give him a piece of my mind. We both know he won’t be as bad when I’m with you” You smiled at him and held his face in your hands.
You were wrong. So fucking wrong.
Jo had absolutely lost it. Because in his eyes, P2 was bad, but it was even worse that he lost against a woman. An untalented scum who didn’t belong, how he phrased it.
You hadn’t heard it, still celebrating with charles, who also got on the podium. You saw Lando coming towards you and pulling you aside “He’s crazy”
You raise an eyebrow “Charles?”Lando shakes his head “Max’s father. He’s screaming at him like there’s no tomorrow” Your face fell. You had been so occupied with Charles, that you hadn’t noticed that Max was gone.
You pushed your throphy into Landos arms and sprinted towards the red bull garage. A few metres away and you could clearly make out Jo’s voice.
“She’s a woman. A woman, Max! She can’t be better than you! Unsless you did it on purpose. She’s fucking you, isn’t she? Such a fucking whore. Untalented and just a good fuck, huh?” You’ve heard enough.
Before Max could say anything, you shoved his father a good meter backwards. Max eyes wandered to you in surprise “Wanna say that again?” Your voice was scaringly calm, making max know what’s bound to happen.
His dad got into your face “The only reason you beat my son, is because you fuck him. You’re no use in this sport. It’s for men,honey. Woman belong into the kitchen” You chuckled and rolled your eyes at his words. Not caring what he was saying about you.
“But maybe it his fault” His eyes flicker to max and back to you “He’s always been useless” Wrong thing to say with you in his face…”He’s never winning”
“Do it better” You say, crossing your arms “Go jump in a car and win the championship. Go on.”
His head was getting red “I won’t let a woman talk down on me. Let alone the whore of my son. Who even are you?”
You’ve heard enough “I’m the person that’s gonna cut your dick off and glue it to your forehead, so you look like a limp dick unicorn. Thats who the fuck I am.Now disrespectfully , shut the fuck up and get out of my and my fiancé’s face”
You had been aware of the camera a few meters away, watching him look at it and then storming off. You turned around to max “How the hell did you survive him?”
Max shrugged and pulled you in for a kiss. Max smiled into kiss.
He had found his home.
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Wrote this in an hour so..Not edited or proofread 🐝
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fanfiction4sooya · 7 months
Text
Sly fox, dumb bunny
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To that one anon that requested this a few days ago, hope you like it sweetie! 💖💖💖
Tw: breeding, swearing, jealousy, possessiveness, unprotected sex, nipple play, G!P bada lee;
You and Bada became roommates when both went to SWF2, for your misery.
She was pretty, yes, but you personally found her insufferable on so many levels it was insane. She loved to bully, tease, and overall irritate you whenever she got the chance, always making some move on you and you hated it due to her fuckboy attitude and extreme laid back personality. You tried to switch rooms with any other girl but the answer was always the same: 'Bada doesn't allow any of us to switch with you, we have to obey her'.
"That annoying asshole" You angrily muttered, leaving the practice room when she arrived, slyly smirking at you.
"Where are you going?" She sprinted, catching up with you in a second given her big legs.
"Some place you are not" You drank your coffee, irritated at her presence as you pressed the elevetor button, you just wanted to get away from her.
She looked specially good in a sleeveless basketball jersey and baggy jeans, cap covering her eyes and sneakers. 'Fuckboy' You thought to yourself., entering the elevator.
"You know you can't runaway from me, I'm everywhere" She held the elevator's door, biting her lower lip. "Specially on your mind, little bunny" She raised her eyebrows and you fake vomited.
"Are you desperate because you can't pull any girls with those horrible pick up lines?" She shrugged, smiling. "I'll give you a tip" You said, getting closer to her as her amused eyes followed your moves. You looked up at her, touching the hand that held the door, taking it from there. "keep quiet, you are pretty when you aren't talking shit" You smiled as the doors closed on her dumbfounded face.
It was always like that, always teasing you in front of everyone, her eyes following you everywhere as you danced or actually did anything. She was undeniably hot, yes, but she pissed you off 24/7.
You were leaving the shower as she was leaning onto the kitchen table drinking water, using only a bra and grey sweatpants. You stopped on your tracks, she haven't noticed you only on your towel as her abs smoothly moved as she drank the liquid, your eyes roamed around to the front of her sweatpants, a very large bulge caught your attention.
"Found something you want?" her voice took you from your trance, making you slightly jump.
"jesus" You raised your hand to you chest, gulping.
"Oh, you found jesus?" She smiled, stepping closer to where you were.
"I..." You looked around. "I found out you've been drinking water straight from the house bottle" You tried to come up with an excuse. "And I don't know were you've been putting your lips so... you better stop that" You tried to sound demanding, but her abs and that huge thing kept distracting you.
"Oh, were you thinking about where my lips were?" She hid both hands on her pockets and you got beet red. "you are so obsessed with me" She teased and laughed. "Its okay, I'm obsessed over you too, bunny" She smiled, stepping a little bit further. "It's like you've hexed me, you know?" You rolled your eyes.
"If I knew how to hex people, why would I do it to you out of everyone I know?" She bit her lip, her relaxed posture maddening you. "You are unbelievably delusional, oh my god" You scoffed. "I'm going to get dressed and leave you here, please seek some help" You passed her, heat pooling between your legs as you walked away.
"Oh my god" You locked yourself in your bedroom, trying to catch your breath as your mind kept spinning around to that huge thing between her legs. "I need a girlfriend" You said to yourself, gulping.
Some days had passed and still couldn't shake that horny feeling off. To your surprise one of your sunbaes asked you out and you gladly accepted, thinking it would be great to distract you and of course, maybe you even get a girlfriend out of this.
"Going out?" Bada said, appearing right behind you as you put on your earrings to match with your flowy white dress.
"Not that is any of your business, but I have a date tonight" You stared at her through the mirror. Her nostrils slightly flared as she got a bit more serious than normal.
"Do I know the person?" She crossed her arms.
"Of course you do" You turned to her. "It's Noze" She scoffed.
"That less hot, less talented version of me?" She said and you rolled your eyes.
"You are so full of yourself, Bada" She locked her jaw, a heavy sigh leaving her lips and your turned back to the mirror. She got closer to your back, her voice low and serious.
"I'm older than you" Her breath fanned over your neck as she spoke. "You should address me with more respect" That dangerous tone made your cunt pulse inside your panties, but she didn't need to know that, of course.
"As if I had any respect for you" Your voice sounded small and unsure, but of course she didn't pay any attention to your tone. That was the last straw for her, as she shoved you face first on the mirror, not hard enough to hurt but enough to startle you.
Her body pressed against yours felt hot and heavy, her cock pressed against your butt as she trapped you there.
"You like talking back don't you, little bunny?" She growled on your ear and you whimpered.
"let go of me" Again, unsure.
"You know what? I should let you go to that fucking date" She grinded against you and you lightly did it back, your self control completely leaving your body. "But before that I should fuck your brains out, leave you dripping with my cum, breed you full" You whimpered, closing your eyes.
"Shut up" You breathed out thickly swallowing.
"You would love that, I know" She pressed harder and you shivered, backing against her hard cock. It felt even bigger now as you literally felt it grow. "Tell me you'd like that" She kissed your neck, both hands on the mirror as you were trapped there.
You felt yourself go insane, your wetness seeping through your panties as she pulled down one of the straps of your dress, kissing your shoulder. You moaned as one of your hands tried to palm her cock over her pants and she rolled her eyes when you managed to do it.
"Oh so now the little bunny wants to play?" She teased you, roaming her hands on your breasts over the dress, pulling it down to reveal your tits. She moaned staring at the mirror and you shut your eyes.
Turning you around she roughly kissed you, her hard on poking your clothed tummy. Her tongue swirled around yours and you moaned against her, your arms hugging her neck as she swiftly lift you up, your legs around her waist. She kept kissing you, pressing your back against the wall.
She was everything you've ever dreamed of: tall, strong, had a huge dick and kissed amazingly; oh you hated her.
"Fuck me" You said against her lips, whimpering. And of course she teased you about it.
"No please?" She said, laying with you on the carpet between your legs. You didn't question her on why her choice was the floor and not the bed, but you were definitely in no position to question anything. "I don't know if you can take me bunny" She cockily said and you rolled you eyes.
In a burst of strength you flipped her over, her back now touching the floor with you on top, straddling her waist and slowly grinding over her cock.
"Who do you think you are?" You scoffed, already pulling it out of her pants and boxers and as expected, it was huge. Heavy and hung, her balls full and with little to no hair. 'Even her cock is pretty, fuck' You thought to yourself.
"I told you" She smiled up at you, sitting down to lick on of your nipples, hugging your waist. You moaned, licking your lips as you pushed her down again, spitting on her big cock to lubricate it.
It was huge, yes, but mama didn't raise no bitch.
Pushing your panties to the side you immediately grazed the tip of her cock on your wet slit and she hissed, her eyes dark with lust. Laying back with her hands behind her head she smirked at you struggling to fully take her, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you slowly sunk on her whole length. She moaned when your stretched cunt fully did it, touching her hips with yours. You supported your weight on her chest, lightly scratching her over the shirt.
"Fuck bunny" She breathed out, you didn't wait and started to ride her, her cock reaching places you had neer felt before.
It started out slow and steady as you whimpered, already shaking. She grabbed your ass lifting you up to fully slam you back on her cock, amazed by how well you took her.
You bounced on her cock, your tits jumping up and down as you stared at her beautiful face, locking eyes with her. Fucking hell, that woman knew how to keep eye contact like no one else. You smirked at her awe expression, clenching hard when she started thrusting up alongside with pulling you down, even harder.
"fuck bunny, you are creaming on my dick" She furrowed her eyebrows, her addams apple beautifully exposed as she threw her head back and you leaned forward to kiss it, then her neck. She pulled your face with one hand to lick your lips and her other hand held your hips to slam into you hard.
"I'm gonna cum-oh my fucking god" You moaned on her lips, throwing your head back as she took one of your nipples to her mouth to suck it.
"I'm gonna cum in your pretty hole too" Her voice sounded more steady, but by the way her dick throbbed inside you, you felt how desperate she was as well. "I'm gonna breed you so well bunny, fuck" She kissed your neck, her hips faltering as her hot seed painted your insides. So much you fell forward, knees on the carpet and your hips up, completely pulsing on her dick.
She didn't took it out just yet, shallowing fucking your spent hole and you softly moaned, pushing yourself up so your faces would align as you looked into her dark eyes.
"You won't tire me out in a long time bunny, don't even think about leaving for now" she fucked you a bit harder, kissing your lips as you moaned.
"Too much..." Your voice came out hoarse.
"Shh, it's okay" She said, using your hole to cum one more time, throbbing hard inside you.
She pulled out, her cock wet and red, her cum oozing out of you made you whimper as it fell on her abs. She hissed, staring at your glossy eyes, smirking.
"still thinking about going on that date?" She sat down with you on her lap, kissing your neck.
"You are so annoying" You rolled your eyes when she sucked a hickey on your skin. "Don't leave marks on me" you weakly said, scratching her arms.
"I have to let her know I was here, bunny" She smiled against your skin.
"Why do you keep calling me bunny?" You lightly slapped her arm and she laughed, hugging your waist.
"You remind me of that Zootopia bunny, that bossy and easily irritated one" You allowed yourself to laugh too.
"well if I'm the bunny, you are that fox" She shrugged, pointing at her then at you.
"Sly fox, dumb bunny" You playfully rolled your eyes.
"You are insufferable" She bit your lower lip, laying your back on the carpet again.
"Oh, that I am" She laid on her stomach, kissing your thigh. "and I know you prefer me with my mouth shut so let me get my mouth busy, little bunny"
Next thing you knew she was shoving her tongue inside you, licking her own cum mixed with yours.
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nathaslosthershit · 23 days
Text
A Little White Chapel Wedding (LS18)
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(Part 3 of the Blind Item Series) Summary: Lance and his now wife had their reasons for eloping, he just hopes his dad will understand.
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Lance and his girlfriend, now wife, had always wanted to keep their relationship out of the spotlight. Given how much hate and controversy surrounded Lance due to his father’s ownership of the team, he had already taken a major step back from social media. He knew that dating another heir apparent would piss many fans off, even if it was solely for love that they were together. Both of their families knew and greatly approved of the relationship but once Lance had proposed it seemed their families wanted to take over fully. Wedding preparations had been started without any input from the groom and bride-to-be. Seeing all these decisions made without the two’s consent had put a ton of stress on them. This was supposed to be the happiest day of their lives and they had absolutely no say in the matter. Guest lists full of investors and other business partners took away from the intimacy of the event. No detail was left unscrutinized and it was going to be far too extravagant, as this was going to be the first time they announced their relationship and the families joining together.
When Lance and his fiancee had gotten to Vegas, they had no plans of getting married that weekend. The thought only crossed Lance’s mind after the race.
“P5 Lance! Oh honey I couldn’t be more proud.” She said as she ran up and hugged him. She had been waiting what felt like forever to congratulate him, as he had been so surrounded the minute the race ended. 
Pulling away from the hug, Lance put his hands on her cheeks as he said “let's get married”
“We are, Lance.” She responded, perplexed. 
“Tonight. Let's elope and have an actual wedding about the two of us. No one else.”
“Honey, our families would kill us if we did that.” While the idea sounded wonderfully romantic and gave her butterflies just thinking about it, it just couldn’t work with the way things were.
“Who cares? We don’t have to tell them right away. We get married now, take an extra long honeymoon over break and then tell them once the season starts.”
“I don’t know Lance.”
“Please? It is unfair we don’t get to have the wedding we want. Who gives a shit about the guestlist with a million business partners we’ve never met. If they still need a wedding then we will do it their way but let's have our way first.” 
She took a minute to respond, thinking the idea over before she finally gave her answer. “Okay, Lance. Let's get married.”
Lance had never envisioned his wedding going the way it did, but he also never saw it the way his family planned it to be.
Although as happy as he was, he felt so guilty when he thought of how his family would feel knowing that he got married without them there to see it. As important as business was to Lawrence Stroll, he knew his dad valued and loved his family above all else. 
Over break, the newlyweds had gone on a bit of a delayed honeymoon, posed as just a really nice vacation.
They only got the honeymoon suit because they really wanted to go all out. No other reason…
They thought they had made it out unscathed, planning on telling their family in a week when they had gotten back from their vacation. Too bad they didn’t get to.
Lance’s wife saw the post first. He barely checked socials anymore. When the photos of them confirmed that the Blind Items post was about them, she felt a chill run through her body. Their families had to have known already, public image was important to both of them so they definitely had PR teams constantly checking what was going on. And she was correct.
“Honey, I just got a call from my Dad. He sounded pretty upset, and said we had to come home quickly and meet with him.” Lance said, confused and worried. His dad rarely sounded as serious as he did on the phone. 
Wordlesy, she passed her phone to Lance with the tweet pulled up. She could see the color drain from his face as he read through replies. Fuck this wasn’t good.
What was probably the most stressful plane ride of Lance’s life was also painstakingly long. He couldn’t swallow the guilt building in his throat at how upset his father must be.
The once welcoming and happy house was now cold and silent as the couple walked inside. His father didn’t greet them, just told the two of them to follow him into his office. Lance just held his wife’s hand and squeezed it reassuringly as they made their way up there. 
Lawrence still remained silent as he sat in his chair, looking at his married son and new daughter-in-law for the first time.
Lance was the one to break the silence.
“Dad, I know this is a lot but please-” He was cut off by the simple raise of his father’s hand to silence him.
“Why, Lance? We spend all this time planning the two of you a beautiful wedding just for you both to throw it away? For what?”
“Dad, you dont under-”
“No, Lance, I don’t. I mean how could you be so stupid?”
“Please if you just listen, Dad-”
“I have never been more disrespected by yo-”
 “Stop!” Lance’s wife spoke up. She finally had to butt in. “You tell Lance you don’t understand and when he tries to explain you cut him off! How are we supposed to have a conversation when you won’t let anyone else speak?”
Silence spread across the room as no one dared to respond. She could practically feel the smoke coming out of her ears.
“Dad. We eloped because we wanted something that was for us. The wedding you were planning wasn’t ours. We didn’t have a say in anything. From guest list to menu, you all controlled that. We wanted to get married on our own terms. While I will forever be sorry you weren’t with us, I am not sorry for getting married the way I did, to the girl I love.” Lance grabbed your hand once again to squeeze, to remind him why he did what he did. 
His father didn’t say anything for a few moments. The newlyweds waited patiently, praying Lawrence wouldn’t fly off the handle again. 
Finally he said, “Then I owe you both an apology. I understand that you both had expectations for your wedding and not having any say in the matter didn’t feel good. I wish you both said something. At the end of the day though, this is still a big deal for our families business-wise. You are my only son though, Lance, I wish I could have seen you get married.”
“We can still have the wedding, Mr.Stoll. Our plan was just to have something for ourselves, then have the main event be for everyone else.”
Lawrence smiled at that. Happy he would still get to see his son get married, even if it is the second time.
This time luckily, the couple got a bit more of a say in wedding preparations. With no comment from either family, the Vegas elopement was quickly forgotten once more pressing gossip reached the public. 
While it still wasn’t what Lance and his wife had envisioned, having their families there this time was all they could ask for. 
lance_stroll
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lance_stroll One for us and one for them
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Note
tossing you another overlord husk request for the heck of it.
he meets a sad reader during a party at the casino and finds out a overlord that owns her soul is treating them bad, so he wins her soul and treats her with the respect she deserves.
A/n: Excellent
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It was going to be the most talked about party of the year, only the top of the top were invited. Husk let his gaze roam across the room until it finally landed on you.
'Breath taking'
That was the first thought that ran across his mind, he could see why so many people were flocking towards you....why did that piss him off so much?
Shaking his head, he made his way towards you but the closer he got to you, was that he could clearly see how miserable you looked. Running his tongue over his fangs, he glared at the people still around you.
"Scram!"
That made everyone bolt, your gaze slowly meeting his until you quickly looked to the ground as you took a deep breath in. "Can I help you with something,Sir."
Oh, he liked the way you called him Sir. What a sweet little voice you have. "Why are you all alone looking miserable baby?"
Before you could even answer, a golden collar appeared around your neck yanking you back into a solid chest.
"How about you stay the fuck away from my property"
Biting back a snarl, Husk could see the fear forming in your eyes. You didn't deserve that, you deserved to be treated like a Queen. "How about a little game, nothin too serious. A soul for a soul, you put your girl and i'll put up one of mine." Leaning forward, Husk gave the Overlord a large grin. "What do ya say? Do we have a deal?"
You could feel the weight of the collar, his collar slipping from your neck as the Overlord that owned your soul was dragged kicking and screaming from the casino but yet who's to say he wouldn't be worse?
Casting a weary glance at Overlord, you watched him light a cigar. "What now? What are you going to do to me?"
Blowing out a puff of smoke, Husk placed his claw gently under your chin as he made you look him in the eyes. "Baby, you're going to be treated like royalty."
You thought it would be a lie, that it was something he'd just say to make you fall in line but he kept his word. You had freedom, you felt like you could actually breathe. You weren't afraid anymore.
He treated you with respect. He set you free, you had your soul back.
Maybe that's why you fell in love with him, you know it was a silly notion to tell him but you felt like you had to after all he had done for you. It was easy since it was just 3 simple words.
"I love you."
You saw it in his eyes though, a moment of weakness. He was scared, like it wasn't real because why would someone like you ever fall for someone like him.
Though it did not take long for that smirk to come back on his face. His arm wrapping around your waist drawing you in close. He might have had that arrogant smirk on his face but it was his eyes that gave it way, gave his true feelings away.
"Isn't that a funny little thing. Looks like I love you too, I think you must realize it now, we gotta get married."
"How could I ever say no to the man that saved my life?"
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sundaynightlive · 9 months
Text
Soft (Steddie + Platonic Stobin)
Hey Steve?”
“Mmm?”
“Can I say something? And can you promise not to get mad at me?”
Steve looks over at her curiously. He can hardly imagine what she could say that would really upset him, or why she’d feel the need to preface anything she had on her mind with a question like that. Usually, she’s all gung-ho about pissing him off—it’s just how they are, constantly bickering like an old married couple. Steve really doesn’t blame anyone for thinking they’re together—they sure act like it, in a roundabout sort of way.
“Sure.”
“Say you promise.” Steve rolls his eyes.
“Seriously, Rob, I’m not gonna—”
“Say you promise.”
That actually slightly unnerves him. He keeps his eyebrows raised, but relents.
“Alright, I promise.” She shifts in her seat, glances up at Eddie and the kids on stage, all chattering about something he doesn’t understand—attack rolls? Natural 20s? Owlbears?
“He makes you soft,” she says. Steve follows her gaze.
Oh. She noticed.
Steve tends to be oblivious, but he had noticed this, mostly because it was so… new. Irregular. Confusing. Around Eddie he just… softens. That’s about the best way to describe it—he’s glad Robin said so, because now he can put a name to the feeling. His brain seems to stop its mile-a-minute, mamma-bear rampage and just… quiet. He can’t put a finger on why—well he can, but it’s… a lot. He’s spent many a night staring up at the ceiling, trying to discern whether he really is romantically attracted to Eddie, or if he’s projecting. Maybe he’s been alone so long he just can’t tell anymore. Maybe his and Nancy’s little dance around each other is just confusing to the point of insanity.
But Robin noticed. And they should talk.
“Can we move back a few rows?”
“Sure.”
They stand and none of the kids nor Eddie take notice. Their voices are getting progressively louder, and Ed is perched in his chair like he could spring up on to the table at any moment, hands motioning excitedly in all sorts of ways. He talks with his hands, just like Nance and Robin.
“Are you mad?”
“No,” Steve says as they take seats in the mid-section, a little farther towards the back of the auditorium. He settles in, both to the seat and his own uncomfortability, not sure how to start the things he needs to say. He has questions, answers, concerns—but where to begin?
The beginning, probably.
“Do you remember that night the three of us were hanging and then Vickie came and picked you up and I told you I left right after?”
“Yeah.”
“I didn’t.”
He looks over to make eye-contact with her, and finds just Rob, gazing at him. A little curiosity, a little surprise at his blatant lie—but he hadn’t known how to talk to her about it. Or how to explain himself. He had thought it easier just to hide that he and Eddie could ever get along without her, because she felt like an essential intermediary. A reason that it isn’t what it actually is.
He can’t really explain himself. He doesn’t really get why he lied, either.
“Liar,” Rob accuses, but there’s no bite.
“I stayed,” Steve confirms, breaking their shared gaze to look back out toward Ed. He’s got this feeling in his guts like he’s about to get into trouble, like he’s broken one of his mom’s nice antiques and is about to lose his swimming pool privileges—
“We talked for the entire night. Until six in the morning. And then I went home, and I wanted to call him. And I… I’ve been having these thoughts like maybe I like him? And I don’t get it because—” Robin takes his hand “—I like girls, you know? I know I do, you know I do—”
“Can I interrupt? Just a two second thought.” Steve nods, “Some people like boys and girls, it’s called being bisexual. I just want you to have that in mind for the rest of this conversation.” Steve blinks at her. Nods slowly.
Maybe he should’ve gone to her sooner.
Not maybe. Definitely.
“Okay… right. So… I’m fucking stupid,” Steve breathes. Robin shakes her head vigorously, adding a second hand to the mix.
“No no no,” she insists quickly, “But I want you to—“
“No, I like him,” Steve realizes, a million—maybe a billion—thoughts and feelings invading him all at once. Fear, uncertainty, excitement, relief, anxiety—he can’t even latch on to one of those. He doesn't know how to feel or think or anything except for this stark, pervasive understanding— “Holy shit, Robin.”
“Steve, you’re getting ahead of yourself—”
“No, I’m not,” Steve shakes his head, kind of probably in shock, “No, I… I’ve been trying to figure this out for weeks. I should’ve just… Oh my god.”
He puts his free hand over his face, absolutely mortified. Not about liking Eddie, of course, but because he had stupidly never considered that liking girls didn’t automatically make him unable to like guys.
Jesus, he's an idiot.
“I’m sorry,” Robin says, and for what, Steve has no idea. She’s just fixed his whole problem—or at least, half the problem. Now he has a crush he has to deal with, and of course Nancy, but at least— “It’s not a bad thing, though. I know it’s a lot to deal with and if you need anything I’m here. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“Rob, I’m fine,” Steve assures her, “Other than having a fucking pathetic crush on Eddie.”
Silence.
“So… you’re good with liking guys?” Steve looks up at her, sighing again for what feels like the hundredth time in this conversation.
“Yeah, that’s fine. It’s just I totally could’ve been doing something about it if I had just asked you sooner.”
Robin stares at him.
He stares back.
What, is he supposed to have some sort of breakdown? He’s had all sorts of thoughts about Billy and Tommy and Harrison Ford—of course he likes guys. Of course that’s not a “straight person” thing, he’s not stupid. But if he’d just applied a tiny bit of critical thinking—
“Are you serious right now?”
“Of course I’m serious,” Steve scoffs, “I could’ve already had, like, eight boyfriends if I had just thought about it. But I’m a fucking meathead.”
The unintentional hilarity of that statement doesn’t miss either of them, but now’s probably not the time.
She stares.
He stares back.
“You astound me, Harrington.”
“Do you think Eddie likes guys?”
“You can’t be serious.”
“Of course I’m—seriously, do you think he likes dudes?”
“I hate that you just said dudes.”
“Robin.”
“How many times has he suggested we watch Rocky Horror?”
“Enough for us to shorten the name.”
“There’s your answer,” she says, still sounding flabbergasted at his nonchalance, “Man, I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I cried for forty-eight hours after I realized I liked girls.”
“Do you want me to cry?”
Robin grimaces, “You’re right, I don’t.”
“That’s what I thought.”
She shakes her head, clearly done with him. It’s uniquely comforting how quickly she can go from a supportive shoulder to a hateful best-friend. He admires that about her, the many facets of her personality that make her, her. He truly doesn’t know what he’d do without her. He wishes they had talked in high school, that he could’ve been someone else in those days, especially seeing where being the “coolest guy in town” has really gotten him.
Nowhere, that’s where.
“I love you,” he says. She’s still holding his hand, and she stays holding it.
“I love you, too.”
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jyoongim · 1 month
Note
Hi there,
OMG I LOVE YOUR WRITING!
If requests are still open I was thinking of an idea. I was kinda inspired by the scene in Hazbin Hotel where Val is squinting at the tv and saying “who the f$&@ is that?”
But my idea is instead it’s Vox seeing Alastor escorting the reader around town, having coffee etc. so Vox sees an opportunity to get to Alastor by abducting the reader and broadcasting it to the hotel that they have her/him. Of course Al gets pissed seeing then hurt the reader and saves them.
Doesn’t have to be romantic, maybe more that Alastor considers then a rare friend and is very protective.
Anyway, let me know what you think.
Thank you!!
warnings: fem!reader kidnapping, attempted SA, Vox being a piece of shit, platonic friendship
“WHO THE FUCK IS THAT?” Vox growled as he stared at his many monitors.
 What had caught his eye was that fucker Alastor.
But oh the red demon wasn’t alone, no, hanging on the arm of the Radio Demon was a pretty doe.
You smiled as you chatted to the demon, eyes sparkling before pouting at whatever he had told you.
You leaned your head on his shoulder happily as the two of you walked down the street. 
Valentino took a puff from his cigar, smirking ”Ooh ooo seems like Alastor got himself a pretty lady while he was gone”
Vox had caught sight of you multiple times. Ever since Alastor came back, you were always by Alastor’s side, not once had he seen you alone.
He watched as Alastor took you to multiple places; cafes, shopping, showing you around Pentagram City.
You must have been something real special if the Radio Demon kept you around.
It would be ashamed if Alastor’s little pet went missing now wouldn’t it……
You groaned as you came to. You blinked,  clearing the haze from your sight as you gathered your senses.
You went to move, but found yourself bound and gagged. 
Your eyes widened how the fuck did this happen?
The last thing you remembered was leaving the hotel to buy a few things and being grabbed from behind.
You shivered. Looking down, you saw that you were dressed in rather provocative clothing. You looked around, there were cameras, monitors, and horny demons in the room all set on you.
You started to hyperventilate as tears welled in your eyes, where were you? 
“Aaahh there she is” a voice purred, a cold hand grabbed your chin,making you come face to face with Vox.
Your tears dried up immediately as your brow quirked at him
”now you might be confused dear but don’t fret, I’m not gonna hurt you too bad. Just need to get my point across. How will Alastor feel seeing his little pet ruined” he chuckled darkly.
You growled at him through the gag. 
He sat on a chair and grinned into the monitor
”This is a message to that old timer prick!” The monitor flashed your bound body, wriggling around as multiple demons started the touch you.
”I’ve got your pretty pet, oh don’t worry Ill send her back to you…but i fear she wont be quite the same” Vox laughed.
Charlie and the gang watched in shocked. Why the hell would Vox take you?
A dark aura filled the room as static buzzed loudly. 
“Well it seems I am needed elsewhere” the red demon grinned, smile tense and menacing.
Alastor disappeared in the depths of his shadows.
You panted as you were surrounded by demons. Your face was bruised and blood dripped from your mouth from being striked.
Your gag had been removed by a demon attempting to use your mouth and you had chomped his dick off, resulting in a harsh slap.
”I say we fuck her til she bleeds or even better dead” a demon growled.
You hissed and before one could make a grab at you, the lights blinked.
Dark misty shadows filled the room and you smiled as a voice growled from them.
”Now thats no way to treat a lady”
Alastor.
The demons tried to rush him, but his tentacles shot out and ripped every single one of them apart.
He stalked towards Vox and you had never seen Alastor so enraged.
He had the monitor glitching as he beat him to a pulp.
He powered him down and made his way over to you.
Taking you into his arms, he cooed to you “Oooh my dear I do apologize for the horrid display, i hope you were too uncomfortable”
He materialized your clothing to be more conservative and walked you out of the Vs’ building. 
“Thank you Al” you whispered burying your face in his chest
He chuckled “Ooh anything for you my dear”
Let’s just say, Alastor accompanied you anywhere you went after that.
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thevirgincherry · 2 months
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BEEP !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. ddlg, pacifier, cockwarming, p in v, fluffy smut, implied age gap, icky ddlg stuff .. like yk
note. we r trying this again.. tags didn’t work last time bc tumblr hates me :( commission 4 the loveliest sweetest ever @miss-oranje-disco-dancer :3 !!! THANK U SM FOR THE COMM love u with all my heart hope u enjoy this and that there are no mistakes… if u would like to commission or tip me the info is in my pinned :3
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Leon hears you before he sees you. There is one sound that grates on him and another that makes his dick as hard as it can get. At least, his brain is telling him he should be hard, and he knows he should be, but his dick is crazy stubborn. Stubborn is his way of describing it, his doctor calls it an erectile dysfunction. Not true. His dick functions when it wants to function, okay?
Taking Viagra is optional these days, shit don’t work for him no more. He takes it for fun, reminiscing on the good ol’ days when his dick got hard from the way the wind blew. It doesn’t work so it’s redundant and Leon has started to think he just likes popping pills. Makes him feel twenty-seven and hot. He’s Viagra-resistant. Like Super Gonorrhoea is to antibiotics.
The squeak of your teeth against the rubbery nub of your pacifier is a delight. All the blood in his brain rushes south like a crew scrambling to raise the masts on a ship, it has nowhere to go though, no dick to raise. You've unlocked a new level of excitement within Leon, instead of boners he gets blood clots. How cute. Really, that’s so fun, ain’t it?
The beep! of that goddamn plastic scanner, however, is not welcome in this house. Especially not in his home office turned place of refuge. Leon swears to God he’s developed misophonia. As your daddy, that kind of behaviour is unacceptable, he shouldn't be swearing at all, but this is Leon speaking, not daddy. Daddy is a saint, Leon is pissed off. He only wanted to do something nice for his baby. Nothing ever works out in his favour, he must’ve been born under an unlucky star, or walked under a lot of ladders, crossed one too many black cats.
That one good deed backfired, and now he would rather— Oh, shit.
“Uh-oh,” you mumble, the start of a cheeky grin lining your face. The pacifier muffles your words, it’s plain pink and heart-shaped like your ass. ‘Cause you’re a tasteful little thing. No excessive prints, no lettering that reads Daddy's Girl ♥︎ which Leon had perversely hoped for you to choose.
Uh-oh indeed. He has filled out an entire (probably) super important form in a pink gel pen. Not just any pink gel pen, a strawberry-scented, glittery pink gel pen.
“What did daddy say about this, baby?” Leon asks, and he’s trying to be serious, but god are you cute, and since when has he cared about work? Hunnigan will give him an earful, he wishes for a mouthful, that he’ll ignore because Leon is so kind. He cares so much about saving the world and whatnot.
(Paperwork doesn’t save the world anyway, he saves it periodically, she should cut him some slack.)
“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home.” That’s a rule. Written on a Miffy notepad in, you guessed it, pink glitter gel pen. A combined effort to revamp the Ten Commandments. Rule number five - Thou shalt not enter Daddy’s place of labour. God, he should do stand-up.
You shrug, pointing at your pacifier in an act of defiance. The scanner remains gripped tightly in your hand, and he can tell you’re itching to make it beep! once more.
Leon hooks his finger in the curved handle of your pacifier, there’s resistance, you hold onto it, clamped down on the nub— He tickles your tummy and out it pops.
“Not fair!” You wipe the spit from your chin on your sleeve. A pout forming at the injustice of it all.
“You can’t come into daddy’s office when he’s not home,” he repeats, “I think you should apologise to Daddy.”
Slowly, you turn around to bare your ass to him, the panties you’re wearing have an oversized bow sewn to the back of them. The fabric is slightly wrinkled from where you’ve been sitting and playing, he smooths it out.
Leon’s never seen these before, they look expensive, silk not cotton. He reminds himself to check his bank account when you leave. He’ll forget until he sees you wearing an even nicer pair later on in the week. The cycle repeats. You are living one lavish life off a civil servant’s salary.
“You’re too big for spankings, aren’t you, big girl?” Leon’s hands are gentle on your hips, he turns you back around. “Big girls say sorry.”
Petulance comes and goes. You’re a good girl at heart, bottom lip quivering when you lurch forward to sit in his lap. “Sorry, Daddy,” you sniffle.
“Aw, baby,” he coos. “It’s okay, daddy isn’t—“
Beep!
You scanned his dick. Good one. Sneaky little thing. He oughta go back on his words and spank you raw.
“You think you’re funny, huh, little lady?” Leon huffs out a laugh, and you nod while giggling. So proud of yourself. “Alright, get outta here.” He stands you up, but you crawl under his desk like a pet. The cutest little bedbug in all of history. Leon would never call pest control on you. Pinky swear.
The scanner sits by his feet, and you rest your head on his thigh, watching him work idly. Then you grow bored, naughty hands making their way up his legs. In one swift motion, you tug the front of his sweats down, his flaccid cock drops onto his thigh. Limp and sad. It’s ugly like this, Leon is more than a little ashamed. So… So not dick-like. Innocuous. Harmless.
(Not that his dick was causing any harm before, maybe to your cervix, but never on purpose. Only ‘cause you asked him to fuck you like that. His little lady wants it rough.)
To put it simply, shit looks like a fucking worm. You bat at his cock like a kitten, tongue sticking out to lick over the half-hidden tip.
“Okay,” Leon says. This is happening.
“Mmph…” You engulf the tip in your warm mouth, suckling like you do your pacifier, there’s the slightest scrape of teeth, Leon doesn’t mind.
“That sending you to sleep, cutie?” Leon pats your head as you blink up at him sleepily. He wants to take you to work with him. Let you set up your toys beneath his desk, hand you a juice box, a fruit snack, his cock at your will. Put it in your mouth, jerk him off, sit on it. Yeah. Sounds like a dream. That should be his treat for all the world-saving he does. No bonus, just a Bring Your Girlfriend to Work Day. Bring Your Girlfriend to Work and Engage in Public Sex With Her Everyday. That’s more like it.
Who else is going to warm his cock when it’s feeling all alone? Hunnigan most certainly won’t. And he might’ve wanted that before, but Leon S. Kennedy has been domesticated, and the only mouth he wants on his dick is yours. You do a damn good job at it. Treat his dick so well, that soft fuck don’t deserve it.
You pull off of his cock with a slurp. The drool pooling in your mouth dribbles down your chin, you use his sweats as a napkin, rubbing your face into the fabric to clean yourself up. Your mess is his mess. He finds it cute.
“Baby’s all done?” Leon’s thumb traces the shape of your lip, your Cupid’s bow, your puffy bottom lip. Always juts out ‘cause you’re always pouting about one thing or the other. Leaning into his palm, you shake your head, shifting from your knees to your butt. Cross-legged on the ground you push the gas cylinder on his spinny chair. There is the deflated sound of his chair sinking and you hum in satisfaction, level with his cock.
“Careful, lift your little fingers,” he warns when you grab the underside of his seat to try and wheel him closer. You do as he says, anything to get his cock in your mouth. Leon wheels forward, and you situate yourself between his thighs once more, lips wrapping around his dick. You take inch by inch, closing your eyes once you get to the midway point, then you swallow around his cock— Fuck, that got him twitching. Your eyes open, and you giggle, the vibration goes straight to his core. His cock grows thicker and heavier by the second, tip fat and leaky as it drip-drops directly down your throat.
“Look at you go,” Leon chuckles. “You did that all on your own, baby.” No Viagra needed when he has you.
You smooch the head, smearing his pre over your lips like a coat of gloss, then you trail kisses along the shaft as you do down his midriff.
“Always tryin’ that, it’s not gonna work.” He clicks his tongue, the sound of your struggle is cute, you choke on spit while trying to fit Leon’s balls in your mouth. It’s real fucking cute. No other girl has ever loved on his balls like you do. He appreciates it. You’re a proper whore, Leon says that with love.
“‘S gonna, Daddy,” you insist in your whiniest voice.
“Alright, alright, it’s gonna work.”
It does not work. Daddy’s always right, you should know that, sweetheart.
You gaze up at him, a string of spit connecting your lips to his spit-coated balls. Whole lotta spit. You’re lucky he likes it messy. You settle for sucking on the rounded bottom of them, tongue following the seam that runs up the middle.
“You like it down there so much, cutie,” he says, fondness manifesting in his dick finally managing to stand tall and proud like an American.
“Mwah.” You place one more sloppy kiss on the underside of his cock, right on a vein that comes to the surface. His dick casts a shadow on your face. Real good view from up here. Makes his shit look huge.
Leon gets stupid when he’s horny. His brain activity is low already, when he’s turned on his brain activity is nonexistent. When he sits you on his desk, there is no concern for the paperwork that gets crumpled under your butt. Paperwork that’s been passed on to him by the US government, by the damn President. Paperwork that has been subjected to abuse by not only a gel pen, but now by your cute ass, and your drippy cunt. Not his girl’s fault she has such a sloppy pussy. Forgive her, Mr. President. Not Leon’s fault he gets her so wet. Cut down my workload, Mr. President.
“Oh no, my baby.” Leon stands between your spread thighs, frowning as he thumbs the wet patch staining the crotch of your panties. “Got ‘em all messy, sweetheart, what're we gonna do with you?”
“Oh no, daddy,” you coo at him, a dopey smile on your face.
“Cheeky.” Leon kisses your forehead, presses his thumb into the centre of the wet patch, the fabric dips and sinks into your spongy hole. “She’s so greedy.” He takes your panties off, not without turning them inside out to suck on the wet patch. If you’re embarrassed about it, you don’t complain. “I think daddy needs to give you a kiss down here, baby.”
“Lotsa kisses.” You nod in agreement.
“Yeah? Want daddy to kiss your princess parts?” Shit, that is one fucked up phrase. Always messes him up. Knocks the air out of his lungs. It’s just true though. A hard fact. You do have the prettiest princess cunt Leon has ever seen. It just sounds so dirty. But you preen when he says it, and your clit twitches, and your pussy drools. On that very important paperwork. “That’s what you need, isn’t it? Need your daddy to kiss these sweet princess parts.”
Leon’s first priority is your clit. Poor thing is all swollen. His pointer finger drags through the middle of your cunt, parts your folds and circles your bud. You’re trembling in anticipation, and that single finger is almost too much.
“‘S not a kiss, daddy,” you tell him, brows knit together.
He flicks your clit and your hips jolt. The IKEA desk holds up well. Leon deserves to be a little mean, you’ve put him through so much. That stupid scanner makes him trigger-happy. “Okay, my bad, Miss Know-it-all.”
When he gets down to business, you pet his head as a reward, and Leon takes it. He latches onto your clit, lips smacking noisily. Your pussy wets his scruffy face, Leon would like to wear your scent to work in the morning. With each broad lick to your cunt, there’s another gush of slick. And he groans into your pussy ‘cause fuck he could live between your thighs— God, he wonders if this is a fix for barely functioning alcoholics. Pussy. If he eats enough - which Leon does, he’s generous when it comes to head - he might sober up.
His tongue fucks into your hole, his nose bumping your clit as he moves his head from side to side. Must look like he’s motorboating your pussy. Not far off from that. “Oh, that’s right.” You grind your hips into him. “Mmm-Mmm-Mmm-“ Leon moans with each push of his tongue, sounds kinda ridiculous. “That’s good, fuck daddy’s mouth, sweetheart—“
“Stop…” Your breath is caught in your throat. “Stop talkin’ daddy!” You sob, fingers tangled in his hair, using it to force him deeper and deeper, hips moving in tandem.
Leon smiles into you, and you don’t let go of his hair until you’re reduced to tears, making an even bigger mess on his desk as your body shakes. It hit you hard. Poor baby. Blubbering and all sorts. When you free him, Leon moves to kiss you, rubs his pussy-wet stubble all over your face, swallows your complaints.
“It’s okay, sweetheart.” Leon leaves wet kisses on your neck. “Daddy’s got you, hm? Daddy’s right here.” You’re still trembling, grabbing at his shoulders when he rolls his hips forward, the leaky head of his cock meeting your clit in a disgusting wet kiss.
You shudder, toes curling in your pink socks. Leon soothes you, stroking your back as he eases into your princess cunt. “Easy, baby, be a good girl for me.”
Your cunt sucks him in, doesn’t take long for him to be buried inside of you. He rolls his hips forward, slow and steady. You gasp, throwing your head back and knocking a pot of pens onto the floor when your hands move to grip the edge of his desk.
Like this, with your back arched and your hips raised, cunt swallowing him whole, you’re the prettiest. When you’re slutting yourself out on his dick. Sorry. Leon’s only a man. This is how he thinks, how he’s wired to be, he can’t help it. You’re so fucking hot it drives him nuts.
The more you arch, the better it feels, he gives lazy thrusts that somehow manage to hit just right ‘cause you keen and fuck yourself on him, letting out hiccuped sobs of Daddy.
Daddy, daddy, daddy.
It’s all you can say. Fuck.
“I love you, baby,” Leon says. “I love you, daddy loves you.”
Oh, and you cum so hard he thinks you’re about to blackout. You don’t. But you do squirt. Pushing his cock out with the force of your high, Leon forces his dick further into you— The rush of liquid hits his skin in bursts, and you’re squeezing him tight, hole clenching like crazy in second-long intervals.
“Daddy… I love you.” Your words are slurred, but you never miss the opportunity to tell him how much you love him. “Love you more.”
“Not… Not possible.” Leon almost whines when he cums. Almost. You scratch behind his ears, it’s like you’re saying There you go, good daddy! Like he’s a dog. Leon is a dog, not a real dog, but a human dog. The pervert kind of dog.
He fills you up like a creampuff, and when his cock slips out, dribbles of his seed dripping from the tip, Leon’s quick to use his thumbs to keep your pussy spread.
“Push it out, baby.” He watches your hole twitch, milky cum spilling out as you exert your pussy. “Good girl, you’re such a good girl.” Leon kisses you hard, cradles the back of your head. “Daddy’s good girl.”
Leon helps you stand, his fingertips mould to the flesh of your ass when he gives it a squeeze. You’re a tender little darling, wrapping your arms around his neck to hug him. When his chin slots over your shoulder, and your scent is sweet on his nose, Leon gapes at the sight of his soggy paperwork. Unfortunately, Leon won’t even be fired for insolence, he’ll just have to face Hunnigan. Something he can’t do while sober. Could do it while pussy drunk though. Never thought about that.
“I think,” Leon starts, hoists you back onto the desk so he can pick you up, “it’s bath time.” You’re nodding off in his arms, barely able to cling onto him. He manages to get you to the bathroom, sitting you down on the counter. “Or is it naptime?”
“Naptime,” you mumble, wincing at the icy counter on your warmed skin.
“Whatever you say, baby.” Leon cleans you up, diligent in his role as Daddy. Would never let his sweetheart go to bed like that. “There we go, fresh as a daisy,” he claims post-towel wipe down.
“Sticky.” You always have a complaint for him. But it’s okay, he loves you. You’re his spoiled little girl.
“Okay, so then is it bath time?” He raises a brow and you shake your head.
“No! Naptime, daddy!” You loop your arms around his neck. “Up.”
“You’re so bossy, you know that?” Leon says while smiling. “Big fuckin’ baby, what am I gonna do with you?”
“Bad words,” you scold, tapping your finger on his lips.
“Daddy can say bad words.” He takes you to bed, fluffs up the pillows for you like he's never done for anyone else. “But you’re a little baby, you can’t say bad words.”
And for once, you’re so sleepy you have nothing bratty to say in return. “Okay, daddy, sleep now,” you say, rolling onto your side to hide your face in his chest.
“Okay, baby,” he laughs quietly, holding you close. “Sleeping now.”
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reysorigins · 1 month
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I’m so sorry for this icky ask, but pls could you write something like stepbro gross perv eddie and y/n on a road trip sitting in the back or smth and eddie needs to piss so grabs a can but is like “oh no i can’t aim help!” and he knows y/n will put her mouth on him to drink it all and not make a mess (plus he looked at the history on her laptop after watching her masturbate the night before & saw she was into piss) i hate myself for asking this i’m sorry lol
perv!stepbro!eddie x reader (fem) ⟡ 18+ mdni !!
stepcest, piss kink + drinking, blowjob, one use of daddy, brief past NON-CON ;
He’s so desperate, he’ll do anything to get your mouth on him. One hand stooped over the wheel, he unzips his fly with nimble fingers, maneuvering an empty bottle of Sprite to relieve himself.
“What are you doing?” You gape from the passenger seat, wide-eyed as you drink in the sight of his penis. No matter how many times you’ve seen him nude, the sheer girth of his cock always sends tingles to your clit.
“Desperate times, sweetheart,” he presses the tip of his cock to the little hole, letting the golden stream lose from his swollen slit. In truth, his balls are aching, prone to bust at the slightest bounce of your tits in that bra. He’s red enough for you to notice, tongue salivated by the angry hue of his pissing cock.
“Don’t…” you murmur, losing your nerve.
He stops. He planned this. He wanted you to drink him up, wrap your lips around his leaking cock and suck and suck and suck until his balls are empty, and your mouth is full.
You lean over of your own volition, taking the bottle from his hand, and press plush kisses to his throbbing shaft.
“I love you, Teddie,” you say, drunk with affection. A special kind of love; a secret just for two.
He can’t respond, when your sweet lips are on his cock, and the moral levy inside him threatens to burst. Guiding you by the hair up to his tip, he slips inside, tilting your head just right to keep the deluge inside.
Relieving himself in your wet mouth is a pleasure he never thought he’d indulge. He’s only ever done this in secret; painting your pretty pussy in his piss while you’re asleep on the bed. Now, he’s got the real thing.
And you take him so dutifully, staring up at him doe-eyed with your tongue laving his tip. He pets your hair while you nurse his cock, trying not to swerve, though failing miserably. You’re too good at this — his little sister — it’s like you were made for it.
“Good girl, takin’ Daddy’s piss,” he purrs, stream tapering off on your tongue. You lick up his dribbling cock, cleaning him off, and start to suck him to completion.
“Jesus— Christ,” he splutters, keeled over with a leaden foot on the gas. You bob your head, gagging when you force yourself to the base. Your throat chokes his cock, and he explodes, creaming onto your waiting tongue.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck—” he moans, cumming faster and harder than he ever has before. He’s seeing stars, fucked out on some desert road in the middle of nowhere, peering down at you with a heaving chest and twitching cock.
“That was fun,” you hum, stroking his thigh. “Can we do it again?”
He breathes hard. “Hand me that water, baby. Lemme see if I can work up a little more for you to drink.”
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