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dev1lm4n · 11 months

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moth to flame

ko-fi | series masterlist

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: you're pining over wicked fantasies or who you recently discovered to be mr. miller, even when it's indubitably wrong.

word count: 3.9k

warnings: explicit (18+), pre-apocalypse, accidental voyeurism, masturbation, age gap (joel's in his mid 30's and reader is in her early 20's), reader is an exchange student but nationality is not mentioned

notes: set in 2013. do reblog or comment if u enjoyed it!

Turbulent wind pushed on the pickup truck to no avail. That, paired with the soothing rhythmic grunt of the ignition created a perfect moody atmosphere. It was the peak of summer; yet somehow, for whatever reason, Austin was looking awfully somber. Gray and bland like the taste of soaked cereals. Sarah was bound to return to school despite the hefty weekends she’s spent with the newest addition to the Millers, and she didn’t like it at all. She’s making it real obvious too for everyone. Cheeks puffed up like she is five and always a loud thump following her every move.

She landed her dad’s coffee on the table with a loud thump. She stormed back into her room with a louder thump. She swung the pickup truck’s door with the loudest thump you’ve ever heard, before making her way over to the school’s gate. Her small pout remained on her face despite your cheerful wave and words of encouragement from behind the rolled window.

She’s a cute kid, you decided.

You’re sure things would link perfectly between you and your host family if it weren’t for the fact that you practically avoided Mr. Miller like he’s the goddamn plague. Everytime you slipped out of your room, you had to make sure he wasn’t in a five meter proximity. You’d rather be dehydrated and starved than to meet him after his day-time job (which you’ve recently learned was a contracting gig), lingering around the kitchen with a stale sandwich up his mouth. Similarly, you treated Sarah as a trusty messenger for every message you had for her dad. Whether it’s a leaky sink or a hefty request to drop you off at your college.

It’s a genuine miracle Sarah never questioned you on your abnormal behavior, nor did Mr. Miller. Was this your streak of luck?

You tucked your phone back in your pocket after a quick run through your texts, eyes focused back towards what laid ahead of you. Mr. Miller’s broad shoulders stretched across the length of the car’s cushioned seat, moving with a steady pulse at every breath of air he claimed. Your careful eyes watched over the seams of his shirt; the correct side up after Sarah’s clever remark earlier that morning. Slowly, you traced along the nape of his neck with your bare eyes. Further and further, right until you could finally spot the dark brown strands tangled in with hints of gray. It looked soft.. much like how it appeared to be on his videos. You wondered how it’d feel like to run your hands over it, feel it through the ridges of your knuckles, and pull on‒

“Hey, you listenin’ to me?”

The man’s baritone voice penetrated the thick silence and you were left aghast. Soul sucked out of your body as your eyes flickered towards the rearview mirror, eventually catching the small smile playing on his dangerously charming face. He’d be the end of you that’s for sure. This was a bad idea, asking him to drive you to college just because taxi rates are crazy high this time of the year, leaving the two of you alone. Alone and hidden under the privacy of his truck, you were fucked through and through. You just hoped he wasn’t clever enough to somehow figure out your utterly shameful thoughts.

“Sorry.. um.. I was thinking of something. What were you saying, Mr. Miller?”

Yeah, that’s right. You were thinking of how nice his hair would feel when you’re gripping on it for dear life, but he didn’t have to know that.

“No worries, kiddo. Just.. I have a question.”

“Shoot.”

“Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?”

At the last syllable he uttered, you were already rigid. Parched, feeling like your tongue magically turned into sandpaper; you’d always consider yourself to be an excellent debater at all parts of life, but his lone question left you high and dry. Your eyes darted back onto the rearview mirror and instead of his candid expression, you were met with his scintillating gaze. Curious and prodding into the deepest part of your head. It enthralled you, encouraged you to say the truth.

“You’re always scurrying off when I’m around,” he gave a thought to what he’s about to say. “I get that Sarah is friendlier and a lot more relatable to talk to. Talkin’ to an old man isn’t exactly preferable, is it?”

He let out a polite set of laughter, which was met by a deafening silence. You crumpled under the tension. Awkward and wanting nothing more than to escape the car like some fugitive in handcuffs. Killing Me Softly With His Song by Fugees continued to play faintly in the background, once again becoming a fitting ringtone for your impending response.

“No,” you denied slowly. Effectively lying, but it was as obvious as a kid trying to pocket candies from the cash register. “It’s not you. It’s me.”

His expression eventually twisted into one of mirth; brows quirked with interest, a tight smile edged to unfold. He’s probably finding the telenovela-inspired reply hilarious, but the man’s polite enough to store all his witty comments in the back of his head.

“What I mean is,” you paused to inhale deeply. What were you even supposed to say? You used to watch all his explicit videos and therefore you couldn't look him in the eye without getting reminded of every single scene? Lying has never been your forte, but the other option was far too humiliating. Even for you. “I’m naturally awkward, Mr. Miller. I.. I feel embarrassed when approaching you. Feels like I’m bothering you or something.”

That was half a lie. A white lie, you’d conclude.

“Oh sweetheart, you never bother me.”

The way he said that nickname had you sweating buckets. Seconds away from throwing up your entire breakfast menu out of sheer nervousness. You knew he meant it in a platonic familial-bond type of way, but God did it remind you of what he calls all his pretty co-stars.

“You and Sarah are my number one priority now. You know that, right?”

“Right. Thanks, Mr. Miller.”

“I’m home.”

Exhaustion trailed after your every step as you made your way through the empty hallway. A result of caffeine-induced studying paired with the buzzing busyness of commuting in peak-hour. This was all easily avoidable. You should’ve accepted Mr. Miller’s offer in picking you up after his gig up West, but the fear of making a slip up is overriding your desire for convenience. You wouldn't want to make things even more weird than it already is. Your most prized possession, the laptop you’ve owned since the beginning of time, weighed your shoulder down exceptionally as you trudged through. A loud grunt passed your lips as you stumbled across; appearing exactly like the hunchback of Notre Dame.

“Oh! You’re here!”

You took a step back to meet the feminine voice, bubbly and hearty from the girl sitting in a criss-cross manner in front of the TV. Sarah was smiling. A big toothy smile that was too hard to resist, despite the fatigue weighing your shoulders down. You’re just soft when it comes to the little girl.

“Dad’s giving me a massage. Do you want one too?”

You must’ve been dog-tired, because you foolishly didn’t notice the large figure looming over her from the sunken couch. It was admittedly dim in the living room, but he was as obvious as an elephant, big and rigged with muscles out of a need for his profession. Both his contracting gig and his other.. scandalous endeavors. Breathing was all that you needed to focus on for now, and perhaps schooling your expression. You’re almost entirely sure you wouldn’t be able to speak no matter how hard you try.

A small unsure quirk of your head was what you settled with and Sarah, being the nicest girl you’ve ever known, quickly ushered you to sit by her side. On the wooden floor. For a damned massage from Mr. Miller.

You complied, of course. Even when you look mildly petrified by the idea.

“What’re you up to all evening?”

His voice grazed your eardrums, alike to a powerful gust of wind, as you seated yourself on the foot of the couch. Sarah by your side, looking fondly in your direction, giving you all the more pressure to appear put together when you could simply falter at the bare sound of his voice. You needed to get your shit together. Mr. Miller’s an actual man, for fucks sake, it’s horribly immoral to think of him as the Wicked Fantasies in these kinds of setting.

“Studying.”

“Is that why you’re so pent-up?”

No. You’re pent-up because you’ve spent the entire week trying to be on your best behavior, trying to act like you’re not openly thirsting over this sweet girl’s father, trying to act like you’re not tipping into insanity from merely being placed in the same room as he is, but he didn’t have to know that.

“Think so,” you hummed softly.

“Poor thing.”

Anticipation almost killed you right there and then. You knew he was going to place his calloused fingers over your shoulders, knew that it was the basic requirement to give someone a shoulder massage, but you couldn’t help but develop butterflies in your belly at the thought. It wasn’t beautiful nor poetic, instead, it was an absolute nuisance to conceal your thoughts. When he began to place his hands on your upper back, you flinched.

A hitch in your breathing, then a throaty groan.

You were sensitive, touch-starved, and his touch practically confirmed that.

Mr. Miller’s touch was expertly firm yet gentle, the way you imagined it for a long time. His calloused fingers glided along your trapeze muscles with finesse. Fluid and seamless, as if he’s a master to the human body. Your eyes fluttered shut as he focused on the tension points. The nook between your bones which was constantly weighed down by your bag didn’t go unnoticed. His skilled fingers kneaded away every knot and tightness, making you surrender to his ministrations.

You didn’t want him to stop.

You wanted him to touch you more.

To have each one of his rough fingers stroke every soft bend of your body, like how he treated May and Sadie as if they were his own personal ragdoll.

To feel him under the constraints of your thin t-shirt, without a veil separating the two of you.

You craved him so bad, even when it’s wrong.

“You feel better?”

When he spoke, his raspy voice was magnetic to the core of who you were, as if he's able to resonate with all of you when others can barely achieve a fraction of it. It sounded sincere, like he truly cared about your well-being and not to simply feed into your secret desires. He meant well and you’re here acting like a starved pervert. The thought made you cringe ever so slightly.

“Yeah. Much better.”

“Good then, kiddo.”

The nickname turned you sour. You're more than willing to debate him on it, unlike last time.

“I’m not a kid.”

“No?”

He was so smug about it too. Even when you're looking all pissy.

“No. I’m a fully grown adult, Mr. Miller. Do note that I’m in my twenties,” you schooled him persistently.

“Twenties? Wow, you’re truly ancient.”

“Yeah and you’re a dinosaur, Mr. Miller.”

The silly quarrel you’ve gotten into with the older man made Sarah burst into laughter, breaking your tenacity and effectively making you laugh along with her.

It was the first time in forever that the Millers laughed that hard together.

As the evening sun painted the kitchen in sepia hues, you stood before the cutting board; a bunch of onions staring right back at you, waiting to be transformed. You have always been passionate about cooking as you viewed it a stress-relieving activity, similar to those medley of coloring books marketed for adults. With a polished kitchen knife in hand and earphones stuffed in, you began your culinary adventure. Your hands moved swiftly, guided by blind confidence. The rhythmic sound of knife to wood began to echo all around the room.

“What are you cookin’ up?”

You could hear him as clear as day, timbre vibrating through your ear canals. Only then did you notice that he had indeed pulled one of your neatly stuffed earphones away, leaving you exposed to the world. To him who you’ve been avoiding despite your little chat in the truck. You looked dumbstruck. Lost in your own thoughts, your eyes wandered up the pools of honey in his eyes. The subtle movements, his thoughtful expression, all seemed to weave a tapestry of intrigue in your mind.

“I’m just chopping up onions here. Nothing exciting, really.”

It took all of you to tear yourself away from his gaze. Even so, the sensation lasted, leaving an anchor of trepidation in your chest.

“You’re back early,” you remarked matter-of-factly.

“Construction guys finished cementing early. Why? You miss me?”

You chuckled fondly. Only to shake your head as you mouthed a brief ‘no’. It’s hard not to entertain the cheeky older man despite your best effort. He was better than you could ever imagine from the confines of your laptop. He had a personality, one that easily made anyone hooked, and a kind heart, therefore it’s terribly hard to keep your burning feelings at bay. It’s wrong. Terribly wrong to view him as such when you’re almost entirely sure he viewed you as his kin, as someone to protect and show guidance to. You were drawn to him like a moth to flame, but he didn’t need to know that.

A sudden lapse in concentration caused your knife to slip, nicking your finger in the process.

A sharp sting shot through your hand.

Then a bead of crimson appeared, mingled with the pungent scent of onions.

“Shit..”

Momentarily stunned, you sucked in a sharp breath, your eyes widened with surprise. It didn’t hurt that bad yet, but it’s still a sight that made you frantic and out of your element. You instinctively brought your injured finger close to your tightly pressed lips, intending to investigate the severity of the wound. Droplets of blood seeped its way through the slim cut as you pressed on the soft pads of your pointer finger. You need to get the wound clean and so tap water was your first option.

However, fate had other plans in store.

“Oh no.. does it hurt, sweetheart?”

You grimaced at the nickname. This wasn’t a good time to get all desperate, but his voice did nothing but burn you with need. Without hesitation, Mr. Miller took hold of your nicked finger, his touch tender and reassuring. He guided your finger closer to his lips and in the many years you've lived, this was the most sensual scene you’ve ever witnessed. Your eyebrows quivered, a mixture of confusion and anticipation swirled within you.

He was your drug.

One touch and the intoxication was fatal. Whatever he wants to do is what you’ll do and there isn't a thing you can do to stop him - not that you’d want to.

With gentle care, he leaned in. He had to crouch ever so slightly to get to your level and never once did his velvety brown eyes leave yours. You’re starting to think that he was doing it on purpose. That this entire scene you’re trying to make sense of was just a part of his orchestrated show, that he indeed felt the same way you do and was just as afraid of confronting it. Though you’re never really sure; the sheer attention he gave you made your brain turn into mush.

His warm breath ghosted over the wound, and before you knew it, he pressed a soft, delicate kiss on where crimson was pooling. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to choke. The sting that had plagued you a moment ago now seemed to dissipate into thin air, replaced by a warmth that spread from your hand to every inch of your aching body. His mouth was a furnace. Plush at all sides as his slick tongue stuck flat against the nick.

The concentration in his face, the emphasized crows feet, the stray strands of brown dappled on his sweaty forehead.

“It’s a little old-fashioned, I know,” he whispered, his eyes locked with yours, “but sometimes a little love can make the pain go away.”

“Love?” you mumbled foolishly, still in a trance.

“You’re a part of the Millers, remember?”

What he said stung you more than the nick. It pushed you off the ledge of delusions. Your gaze slowly grew somber despite your best efforts to stay nonchalant.

“Of course, Mr. Miller.”

The steady patter of rain upon his window stirred Joel awake, droplets yet to scatter the nascent rays of the settling moon. A strange occurrence for late summer. Though, the gentle sound brought a certain calmness to his mind; a soothing melody, one that stripped him of fear and incompetence. He looked around, blurry vision still intact while he scrambled to find the time. His alarm clock flashed back the time in big bold numbers. Barely past midnight, he noted internally. Joel wasn’t so sure on why his throat felt incredibly parched, dry to the bone, in need of refreshment even when it’s only been a few hours since he tucked himself in. Was it the one beer he had at dinner?

With an irritated sigh, he groggily stumbled out of bed. His knees creaked at its rusty hinge everytime he took a step down the dimly lit staircase of his home. He felt like a nutcracker. An old worn-out one at that. He wondered if he’s gotten too old for this, too old for construction and his side job - has he developed arthritis? His worries came to a halt when a soft glow caught his attention, emanating from a partially open door.

If he remembered correctly, it was the small room by the garage he’s gifted to you.

Curiosity piqued, he hesitated for a moment.

Would he be an absolute prick if he took a short peak? Probably. But you interest him. You’ve always been interesting to him, in ways that confuses him more often than he’d like.

He neared the door. One step at a time, praying to whatever God up there that’d be kind enough not to let the wooden boards ahead of him creak at his heavy steps. In that solitary moment, he felt a mixture of emotions welling up within him. It was as if he knew that he was about to stumble upon a secret, a private moment that’d be permanently embedded in his mind. He contemplated once again when he’s just a step away from getting a clear view. Respect for you tugged at his conscience, yet an overwhelming ugly curiosity pushed him to stay, to try to understand the significance of your nocturnal act.

His brown eyes peered through the small gap left.

He could see you now, but you couldn’t see him.

In the dappled moonlight, he carefully mapped out each and every one of your soft curves. How you were bathed in gentle light, sat comfortably on top of your stacked comforter as you typed away at your laptop with lightning-like speed. How you slowly leaned forward to get a closer look at the blaring screen, hair left relaxed and rear-end clearly emphasized by your inept sleeping shorts. How you eagerly repositioned yourself, straddling two rolled pillows as if you were to ride a horse. Joel didn’t mean to look. He didn’t mean to stare in such a perverted, disgusting manner. You were just too captivating and he was one weak-willed man.

With bated breath, he continued to observe.

Joel found himself captivated, his thirst momentarily forgotten, as he marveled at the scene unfolding in front of him.

This was wrong, he reminded himself. This was you he was looking at, not anyone else. You who he always viewed as a wide-eyed young girl still trying her best to navigate around her life. You who’s naive enough to believe his lies that the pink condom packets in his pick-up truck were single-packet wet tissues. You who’s sweet enough to cook his entire family a good dinner for once; turkey, mash, and green beans. He shouldn’t be looking at you like this. He shouldn’t crave you, because you’re you and he’s him.

His dilemma fell short when you clumsily tugged both your thin shorts and cotton panties off your legs, shin planted deeply into the pristine comforter. Your cunt gleamed under the thick moonlight, arousal formed in globs of clear stickiness right around where your tiny hole appeared. The visage caused him to stiffen in his sweatpants, twitching uncontrollably as he watched you rub yourself along the soft material.

Joel had a first-class view on how you cautiously ground down against it and he was.. shamefully thrilled. A moan bubbled up, before you did it again, and again, and again, each time the pillow appeared more and more damp.

“Fuck,” you hissed to yourself and it drove Joel insane. He pushed his pants down embarrassingly as if he’s some teenage boy catching a coincidental sight of a strip tease, before he cupped himself through his briefs. You’re putting on such a good show, even when it’s not for him, or for anyone on that matter. He watched with anticipation as you leaned back on both hands, edging yourself, before you rutted against it desperately.

Your hole throbbed, contracting and loosening everytime the soft material made contact with your sensitive nub. It’s all that you focus on now. Which was working wonders, considering your quiet gasps and labored breaths were starting to turn into much vulgar noises. Loud moans and whimpers that made Joel’s cock grew with interest, dribbling with pre-cum and desire.

“Please, please, please,” you begged breathlessly.

Both of your hands disappeared for a split second. He wondered silently where it went, but the honest shadows on your wall told him more to the story. You were cupping both your breasts, massaging it kindly before going over to pinch and roll your nipples to harden. You seemed to be sensitive there. Would you enjoy his thick fingers around them?

“More.. oh please,” you begged helplessly.

He wished to come and help you, to stick a finger into that tight hole of yours, to circle your clit with his thumb, flicking indulgently until you gave up. But it’s all a part of his far-fetched fantasy. Watching is more than enough for now. Joel couldn’t even see your face, but this entire thing got him off better than all the pornos he’s personally made.

“I’m gonna- oh, oh, God.”

Your cries echoed around the room, He could see how you quivered, thighs clamping shut around the drenched pillow as you reached your final ecstasy. Everytime you rolled back, he salivated over the sight of your sopping cunt. Untouched and sensitive even from just humping. Your thrusts never falter, not even when you’re making a mess on top of the once pristine, white pillow. What a dirty girl.

Joel watched you until the very end. Right until you collapsed forward, flat on your stomach after exerting such work on your body.

Cock sore and in need of relieving.

Though, something else caught his interest. A revelation that he found to be more important to comprehend than the state of his throbbing cock.

The video you're watching to get yourself off.

They were his.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #tlou #joel miller #joel miller tlou #the last of us #the last of us fic #the last of us imagine #joel miller imagine

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the-whispers-of-death · 2 months

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John Price finally getting Grumpy!Reader's engagement ring. He had measured your left ring ringer while you were sleeping (it was for a good cause) and he went to several jewelry stores to find the perfect engagement ring. It's everything you could ever want in an engagement ring, you'll love it and hopefully you'll say yes when he proposes.

But first, he has to ask for permission to marry you from your kid. After all, he's isn't just marrying you, he's officially becoming your kid's step-father (hopefully also adopted father if they want him to adopt them). So, he has to make sure they'd be okay with you two marrying.

If your kid's little, he's not too worried about them saying no. Especially since they've been calling him "Dad" so genuinely and have been so happy when he stays over. They tell him they want him in the house all the time, so he's almost certain that they'd give him permission to marry you.

Still, he crouches down to their height level to look them in the eye. "Hey, kiddo. You love I love your parent a lot, don't you?" he asks, easing them into their conversation. He smiles when they nod. "Sometimes, when people love each other so much, they get married. Which means that they're legally recognized as a couple and they move in together. And so I love your parent so much that I want to marry them, be officially a part of this family that we've created. You, them, me. The three of us together."

He lets the words sink in, lets your kid process what he said. "What do you say to that? You like that idea?"

Your kid thinks about it for a while before asking, "Would you adopt me?"

"If you'd like me to, kiddo. I'd be honored to adopt you," John says, smiling. His smile grows even wider when your kid says he can marry you and he picks them up, swinging them around and making them laugh. "I love you so much, kiddo. I'll love you and your parent for the rest of my life, I promise."

Now, if your kid's a teenager, then John's going to be very nervous because your kid honestly got your grumpiness (because they're a teenager and also because kids can emulate their parents a little) and so while he knows they tolerate him, he doesn't know if that's enough for them to be able to be okay with him marrying you. Liking your parent's partner is one thing, being okay with them integrating their life into yours is another.

"Hey, mate," John says to them when picking them up from school (or practice if they practice a sport, either way you're not available to pick them up). He waits until they're settled in the passenger's seat and he's driving home. "So you know how I love your parent and we've grown even closer over this past year?"

Your kid eyes him warily out of the corner of their eye before nodding. And then it dawns on them. "You want to marry them?"

John nods, his palms sweaty as he grips the steering wheel. "Yeah, I want to marry them. But only if you're okay with it."

"Why?" they ask, surprised at that answer. Apparently, they had been thinking John would just marry you without caring if they were okay with it or not. "You care about whether I'm comfortable with your guys' relationship?"

"Of course I care. You're their kid and... I've grown to think of you as my own too," John admits sheepishly. He makes a turn into the subdivision. "So yeah, I care about whether you're okay with us marrying or not. It's not just them and I, you're also being affected by this and I want us all to be a family."

They think on it for a while before smiling shyly. "I'm okay with you joining our family. I like having you around." They then glance at him, smirking. "But uh, you're going all the way with integrating into our family, alright? I'm getting adopted by you, that's my one condition."

John laughs, relaxing now that he's gotten their permission to marry you. He pulls his car into your driveway and parks. "It would be my honor to adopt you and officially call you my kid."

"Thanks, Dad."

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and talk or request something! (SFW requests only, please and thank you)

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brbremaking · 2 years

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also I nearly cried today bc a little kiddo spent half an hour sitting on my lap being adorable and asking me what I’d do when he goes to school and if I could come with him so we could see each other every day bc he loves me and I love him and we should see each other all the time like !!!!!!!!!!

#don’t reblog #I just wanna remember this bc I love him!#and he heard someone crying and asked how I knew who it was and if I know what he sounds like when he cries #me: yeah but I don’t like it when you cry kiddo #him: why not?#me: bc it makes me sad I want you to be happy #him: bc you love me?#with like the cheesiest little grin on his face #and then he fell and hurt his knee and cried. I didn’t say no nazar. my poor baby.#i need a self obsessed tag #kids are the best #nice things

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yandere-kokeshi · 4 months

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Can i request platonic yandere 141 x darling who has a speech impediment? When they go out and the waiter asks him what he wants he gets nervous and struggles, often goes mute etc. How would they feel if the darling asks them to talk for him?

Warnings: yandere behavior, feat of being made fun of, and Platonic fluffiness — NOTHING ROMANTIC

A/N: Even though you requested for male, there are no pronouns stated; hope you can still enjoy this <3. I had fun writing this!

To start, they don’t bat an eye nor care that you have a speech impediment. It’s just another thing to you, the same with scars or appearance. Of course, they do know that snide comments are expected, especially in public, but they’ve shown many times to be all respectful, and not having an ounce of frustration when it comes down to you.

With words and pronunciation, they know how difficult it can be.

This said, whenever you are talking about something, and get stuck on a word — their eyes flicker at you, before one of them will give you a synonym that’s easier for you to pronounce. Letting you continue on with a second-thought.

With their own ways of showing affection, it’s the same with helping you. Simon and Kyle are often the ones that try to let you do things on your own, but also step in if needed. As for Simon, he’s quieter when helping you, especially if you’re having trouble. A rough hand will grab yours, and he’ll avoid your gaze with silence, only giving you a small nudge to resume your story. Now, starting with another letter or giving yourself a short break to try once more.

Gaz is more gentle, looking at you before guessing the word or filling it in with a description of the word; laughing when you nod frankly at his finishing. He also helps you through pronunciation, spelling it out with baby steps, and ensuring that you don’t feel embarrassed or bad for going slow. Everyone learns at their own pace, and their own way.

As for Price and Johnny, both of them can be quite overbearing. They like to take advantage of you asking for help, which makes them talk through every interaction in public.

Price is more prominent to jump in, spewing out what you were going to say — before looking at you with a questioning look when he notices that it annoys you. When you try to talk to him about it, he gently waves it off, saying that: “I was helping ya’ kiddo, no need to be embarrassed for asking for it. We know you like the back of my hand, yeah?”

With Johnny, he has a tendency of guessing your words, spewing them out like a machine gun; which only frustrates you more. Towards the end, he gets it right. But it doesn’t mean it is incredibly annoying.

When eating out all together, especially at a place that can be busy, all of them take patience really seriously; they know how mean people can be. So when eating at a restaurant, they let you talk until they read you can’t do it anymore; Soap actively making jokes to the waiter to ensure they’ll wait.

But, when it comes down to the waiter, who's only giving you the ‘eye look’, or simply being impatient. Price or the others will step in and finish it for you, looking at you with a nod and a gentle smile.

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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taintedcigs · 4 months

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GETAWAY CAR — rockstar!e.m. x f!reader

CHAPTER SEVEN: SHE'S THUNDERSTORMS

← prev chapter // next chapter →

✦ summary: in which corroded coffin performs at the hideout (wc: 9.3k+)

✦ warnings — angst, ANGST, arguments, FINALLY SOME DESERVED FLUFF, jealousy, jealous!menace!eddie, the kiddos make an appearance!!!, uhmm kissing,,, eddie and p are an old married couple, drinking, smoking/weed, uhm thats it i think.

✦ pairings — rockstar!eddie munson x fem!reader, past billy hargrove x fem!reader

✦ authors note — not proof-read i tried but i cant do it. pls ignore all mistakes. SO VERY SORRY FOR THE WAIT. hopefully this makes up for it. as usual the song is by arctic monkeys, and the other song mentioned is lover you should've come over by jeff buckley. but we'll pretend like its all by corroded coffin so shshsh.

anyway ily all pls interact + like + reblog to support me! i'd also LOVE LOVE to chat about anything abt this series it literally is my baby!! pls dont hesitate to send me an ask about anything mwah thank you for reading💗

series masterlist | series playlist

“Dude, I’m telling you it was not my fault.” Gareth exasperated desperately, hands up in the air in defeat.

But Eddie was quick to shake his head, “You drove her here, how is it not your fucking fault, Gareth?” He spat, bitter and angry.

“She insisted! She wants to apologize to Pinky!”

“What?” Confusion etched across Eddie’s face.

With an annoyed sigh, “Yeah, the whole fuckin’ world has to revolve around her,” Gareth muttered under his breath, knowing that saying anything about you would drive Eddie crazy.

“Watch it,” Eddie warned, mouth downturned in disgust almost immediately.

“What? It’s the truth.”

“Gareth, I’m not gonna tell you this a second fuckin’ time, okay? Don’t do that shit around me and never say one fucking word about her again, you got that?” He gritted through his teeth, his hand unintentionally clenching into a fist.

“Jesus Christ.”

“I mean it,” Eddie spat.

“Fine, fine!” Gareth threw his hands up in defeat, both of them downing their drink before scurrying away.

Shit.

You knew you shouldn’t have been eavesdropping, but it wasn’t your fault. You were just trying to get a drink for the group, surfing through the sea of people—which was unusual for The Hideout. Still, you guessed the only celebrity from Hawkins was enough to have people swarming in, and Gareth and Eddie happened to be chatting right behind you.

Even though it stung to hear Gareth talk of you like you were the fucking anti-christ, hearing Eddie defend you like that had that familiar warmth spread through your entire body. And you hated it, you hated the soft spot you’d always have for him, how it would take you back to five years ago when he would be there for you, every single time.

Fucking great, you had so many people to avoid tonight; Chrissy, Gareth, and Eddie.

With a sigh, you quickly disappeared into the crowd, carrying a tray of drinks for everyone. Plopping it on the booth with a slight sloosh.

Everyone reached for it and you were quick to slap away Max, Lucas, and Dustin’s curious hands. “Oh, come on!” Max protested with a groan.

“Not legal,” you hummed with a narrowed gaze. “Yeah, I’m sure you were legal when you were shotgunning beers and smoking joints like it was your lifeline during senior year,” Lucas mumbled under his breath, quick to get settled into his seat with a huff.

You gasped dramatically, “Lucas Sinclair!” Exclaiming as he gave you a simple shrug.

“So what’s new with you and Mr. Rockstar, now?” He teased, and you narrowed your gaze at Max who snickered underneath her hand.

“Nothing,” You mumbled, shying away from everyone’s gaze on you.

“Good thing, we can always ask the other party, too,” Dustin chimed in with a smirk, head pointing toward behind you.

There was a slow tap on your shoulder and you were quick to jerk your body around.

Of course.

Eddie.

His soft gaze was dumbly addicting, that boyish grin curled deliciously on his lips while amber eyes took you in wholly.

His gaze wandered to your figure, the midnight blue dress embracing your figure, accentuating your curves, its hem grazed against your mid-thigh, allowing him to get a glimpse of your sun-kissed legs, simple but exuding how breathtakingly pretty you were.

He couldn’t place why your brows were so tightly pinched together, or why your arms were crossed against your chest, plump lips downturned with a pout. Still, you looked so pretty, so alluring that he could barely form any sentence.

Mind captured entirely by you, almost feeling paralyzed while he took you in.

“H—hey!” He stammered, awkwardly putting his hands in the back pocket of his chained black jeans. He was just him, and oh, god, you were you.

Plush lips that curled into the prettiest smile, the most captivating eyes, even when you seemingly looked upset, brows pinched together, those glossy lips downturned, you were perfect.

You ignored Eddie’s greeting, your piercing glare was still not that noticeable to him, all he could think about was how beautiful you looked, and how he was glad that he saw you before his set. He wanted nothing more than to see you watching him perform the songs he wrote all about you.

“Wow… Uhh—you look… amazing,” He mumbled, breath getting hitched on his throat when he saw your unreadable expression.

And all you could do was give him a tight-lipped smile. Almost immediately wiping that glow off of his face, face going momentarily blank.

But he should’ve expected this, he knew you wouldn’t jump into his arms at any opportunity, he deserved this. He needed to do more, he needed to win you back.

He opened his mouth to speak, desperate, needing your approval, but you interrupted. “I—I’m going to get a drink,” you mumbled, face flushed with heat, you didn’t know how to act either.

Eddie glanced over at the tray of drinks on the booth, with his head tilted, “there’s a bunch of drinks over there,” he mumbled, he didn’t want you to leave.

“I can see that, but I still want my own,” you sassed with a narrowed gaze, not letting him talk back once you left to go to the bar.

Eddie watched your figure leave with a deep sigh, turning to the booth to take one of the drinks. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?”

“Yup,” Steve muttered with a nod, and Eddie was quick to give him a death glare.

“So, will you finally enlighten us on what happened with you and Mrs. Grumpy over there?” Dustin huffed impatiently, grabbing three drinks from the tray now that you were gone, handing the other two to Max and Lucas with a grin.

“She didn’t tell you guys?”

“No! Which is a shame because she usually can’t say no to my adorable face.” Dustin blinked quickly, batting his eyelashes while Eddie shook his head at him with a chuckle.

“Oh c’mon, Eddie, just tell us!” Max let out an impatient huff, her captivating icy blue gaze was pleading in a way that he could never say no to.

These doofuses would always be his weakness.

“Yeah, Eddie, pretty please?” Lucas added exaggeratedly, mocking Max as she hit him in the chest playfully.

“Fine, fine!” He sighed, running his hand over his forehead in frustration.

“But nothing really happened and I don’t think it’s—” When he felt everyone’s gaze piercing through him, he was quick to shut up. “Okay, okay!” He huffed.

“She came to my trailer guns ablaze and then just slammed the note against my chest, calling me a coward, and then I told her off—”

“Wait what?” Max was quick to interrupt him, brows pinching together.

“Yeah, I told her I wasn’t the one who left.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, didn’t you kiss Chrissy in front of her?” Max taunted.

“Yeah, and did you not bring her to Steve’s?” Dustin added.

With a huff, he turned back to Steve. “Jesus, Harrington, did you gang up all of them against me?” He just gave Eddie a shrug.

“That’s not even the point! Everything has just become too convoluted with us,” He spat, anger returning quicker than you intended to, while the rest of the gang sipped their drinks with an ‘oof’.

“It’s not convoluted, just tell her how you feel!” Max inquired, gently, almost like she was trying not to tip him off.

“I—” He took a deep breath. I will. He wished to say, but saying it out loud felt too real. And you were right, he was a coward.

“I’m gonna properly apologize and make things right by her,” he muttered, taking a big sip from his drink.

“You better hurry up, rockstar,” Steve taunted smugly, the weird face he pulled was making crinkles appear on Eddie’s forehead.

Eddie’s head cocked toward Steve, aggressively. “You better tell her how sorry you fucking are.”

With an all-knowing snort, Steve’s finger accusingly pointed towards something behind him. “Or someone else might swoop in.”

“Fuck off, Harrington,” Eddie mumbled, rolling his eyes before he turned around with a huff.

Oh, shit.

Everyone’s gaze turned toward Steve’s accusatory finger, a slight ‘shit’ escaping from Robin’s lips which Nancy elbowed gently to shut her up.

Eddie could barely move, his entire face feeling hot and jaw clenching involuntarily, jealousy shooting through him faster than the alcohol swimming in his system.

Because there you stood, in front of the bar, with your head tilted sideways, a pretty grin sitting on your lips, mellow gaze looking up at the guy in front of you—dirty blonde, hair cut shorter than Eddie’s but almost as long as Steve’s, wearing the most expensive and tidy outfit Eddie had ever seen—making him feel stupid for choosing to wear those black chained jeans.

His scowl was anything but pretty, brows furrowing in a way that made him look like a complex puzzle, eyeing the way this stranger was touching you.

“Oh, isn’t that—” Robin spoke up, and the entire table shushed her because they also realized exactly who that was.

James.

Your ex, not Billy, of course, the other douchebag before Billy.

He really wasn’t much of a douchebag, a genuine, nice guy, and to make matters worse he was a total gentleman; attributes Eddie would never call a typical high school Jock.

The relationship only ended because he went to college one too many states away, the distance getting between the two of you, but Eddie always referred to him as ‘the douchebag’ The jealous feeling sunk into his chest even then.

Rich kid, a jock in high school, older than both of you, someone who had his life together. Everything that Eddie never was. Everything Eddie always wished to be.

But now, seeing you with him made something almost click in Eddie’s head, like he was meant for you as he suited you much better than Eddie ever would.

He could treat you much better than Eddie would, sure Eddie had his name now, the riches he never had back in high school. But he was still just Eddie.

And he was certain James never kissed Chrissy, he’d never fuck up like Eddie did.

He watched the way your eyes lit up when he was animatedly talking, his gentle touch on your arm, the smile that curled on your lips.

What if he asked for your number? What if he wanted to reconnect? What if you said yes? Just because Eddie had been a total fucking idiot and couldn’t see what was right in front of him?

He tried so hard to push the idea of the two of you together back into his mind. To make sure it never left, to make sure it never manifested.

But the way his jaw clenched and the deadly glare burning through both of you showed that he couldn’t.

He was jealous, a type of jealousy that quickly translated into anger, one he could almost feel on his skin, hot and prickling rage stabbing into his body, agonizingly slow, making it harder for him to stay glued there and not do anything the more he eyed the hold James had on you. He was standing too close for Eddie’s liking.

Usually, he’d let this feeling sink back into his mind, take a breather, smoke a couple of cigarettes, and then act like nothing was wrong for the rest of the night while he spent it sulking. Keep that rage caged in his chest, so he could keep his feelings contained.

But he couldn’t do that this time, no. He wasn’t going to be stupid enough to let you slip through his fingers, not again. He was going to fight for you, he was going to show you that you belonged with him.

No matter what Mr. Fancy Pants could offer to you, he needed to tell you how he really felt, he needed to make sure you knew. Because even if he could feel the insecurities jabbing into his brain, he always knew, deep down that there was something there between the two of you. Something always left undiscovered because both of you were cowards.

He couldn’t let that happen again, he wasn’t going to go down without a fight.

“Oh, I get the appeal now,” Max murmured, breaking the silence between everyone, and earning a hard glare from Eddie.

“What? He seems nice, has pretty hair, much better than Steve’s, and that outfit probably cost more than your wedding,” Max spoke bluntly, now earning more than just the hard glare of Eddie, mouth hung open Steve looked offended, Nancy and Jonathan narrowed their gaze, but Robin snickered behind her hand, almost giving Max her approval.

“Max!” Lucas reacted before them and Max furrowed her brows, a smirk earning her way to her lips. “You’re still my number one Lucas, don’t worry,” She hummed, pinching Lucas’ cheek and ignoring Dustin’s groan.

“Dude, why would you do that?” Dustin whispered, eyeing Eddie worriedly while nudging Steve by his jacket.

With a dramatic huff, Steve pulled his collar back, “Relax, I know what I’m doing.”

Eddie’s fingertips absentmindedly traced the rim of the glass in front of him, his eyes never leaving the two of you when he downed the drink, slamming it back on the booth, making everyone flinch.

“I’ll be right back,” Eddie muttered, a forced chuckle escaping his lips.

“What are you even going to do?” Robin inquired, almost mocking.

A smirk landed on Eddie’s face. “I’m not going down without a fight, Buckley.”

“Not this fucking time,” he hissed, almost all the brows of the gang raising at his determination.

“I’m gonna tell her how I feel, and I’m not letting another douchebag ruin this,” Eddie mumbled, and a dumb smirk was placed on everyone’s face almost too quickly.

He was going for it, and the soap opera was continuing, the gang watched in excitement.

“Was he ever really a doucheba—” Dustin’s worries were quick to die down when he threw him a deadly glare.

Without another word, he stormed off to the side of the bar. Quick, too fucking quickly that it almost gave him a whiplash. He didn’t know what had taken over him, eyes burning the back of their figures as everyone else at the table watched him with a proud look.

But the child-like jealousy he felt within his body was uncontainable, it felt like his face was almost too hot to touch, he was desperate, quite literally.

The tap on James’ shoulder was anything but gentle, making him turn to Eddie with his pair of brows furrowed, and Eddie’s muscles were quick to tense.

His dark gaze only softened when he looked back at you, muscles relaxing, and creased brows returning to their normal form.

The jealousy eased inside of him, not dissipating quite enough, but slowing with one gaze from you.

Back in the booth, with another sip from his drink, Lucas huffed, “Five bucks says they’ll confess by tonight.”

Robin was quick to snort at him, “You’re trusting them too much, kid, Steve’s ‘little push’ might help them,” She mumbled with a roll of her eyes. “But Jesus fucking Christ, just look at her face, she’s going to go off at him. The most they’ll probably do is have another fight, get just a little bit close to talking about their feelings, and then do it all over again.”

Steve, ignoring Robin’s theories, exclaimed with a smirk. “Ten bucks that Pinky will sleep with Eddie tonight!”

“I second that,” Max said with a grin.

“Steve!” Nancy warned with a disapproving tut.

“What?” He huffed.

“They’re kids!”

“We’re nineteen!” Max groaned.

“I turn twenty next month!” Dustin chimed in.

“Still!”

“Fine, fine!” Steve sighed with a glare at Nancy, “Then ten bucks that they’ll kiss tonight!”

“No fucking way.” Robin shook her head.

“Nah, they’ll at least kiss tonight,” Jonathan said with crossed arms.

“Are you guys seriously betting on our friends?” Nancy said with a furrowed brow.

They all nodded vigorously, “Fine,” Nancy muttered.

“Then I second Steve, ten bucks for them sle-kissing.” Nancy corrected herself, earning a wicked grin from Steve.

“Come on!” Robin groaned, dissatisfied by Nancy’s answer.

“I agree with Robin,” said Dustin with a shrug.

“Finally!” Robin exclaimed, hands rubbing together in victory. “Someone with common sense. There’s no way those idiots are going to do anything but fight, just watch her come back here, all fuming about how much she hates Eddie.”

They all shrugged, going back to continue watching the soap opera unravel in front of them.

“James!” Eddie greeted with faux excitement, a grin playing on his lips, amber gaze remaining on you. With your brows creased, ‘What the fuck are you doing?’ you mouthed behind their awkward hug.

He shrugged, and his hands clutched James’ shoulder harshly, making him chuckle awkwardly. “Munson, the man of the hour!” He greeted him with a beaming smile.

He really was too nice for his own good, wasn’t he?

“I’d ask what you were up to, but it seems you’ve been doing just fine, rockstar,” James exclaimed, returning a friendly slap to Eddie on his shoulder—in a much nicer way than Eddie intended with his.

You smiled uncomfortably, your gaze still throwing daggers at Eddie, who was actively avoiding it. “I have to say that last album? Fucking Christ, had it playing over and over again for days.” He beamed again, much to both of your dismay.

That all-knowing smirk on Eddie’s face disappeared, the unexpected compliment seemed to make him uncomfortable, conflicting with the defensive walls he had put up.

“Uhh—thanks man,” he chuckled awkwardly, casting a quick, scrutinizing glance at you, catching the small smirk on your lips.

“What have you been up to?” He asked, curiously, desperate to know what the two of you were talking about, nervous to see if the two of you would do anything more than this.

The confidence in the way James held himself, his slicked hair, his fancy outfits up close, Eddie’s insecurities washed him over once again. Now with that part of his brain convincing him that the two of you would somehow end up together again.

“Oh, you know, I was just in town, got a nice job here, thought I’d stop by to see Corroded Coffin play, been seeing the posters everywhere—great marketing by the way,” He hummed, flashing Eddie a smile.

And Eddie returned a forced one, lips pursed together in annoyance. “and then I thought I’d get a drink, but then I heard this familiar voice next to me, yelling to the guy next to her to fuck off for attempting to steal her drink, and I thought oh that’s Pinky.” Eddie couldn’t help but not keep his gaze on you, studying your features, almost gauging your reaction, trying to nitpick something to fuel his jealousy.

“Been a long time, but I’d never miss this one’s sassy voice and that pretty face,” He mumbled with a sly smirk, making Eddie’s face scrunch and almost making him scoff out loudly.

“Oh, stop it!” You mumbled with a smile, all flattered, and Eddie’s gaze narrowed, jealousy overtaking him again.

“So you two are… reconnecting for the old times' sake, huh?” Eddie asked through gritted teeth and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Eddie—”

With a smile, James turned to you, “I mean I’d love to grab a drink, are you free tomorrow?”

“Ah! I wish I could, but I need to help Nancy out with some wedding stuff.”

“How about next wee—”

“She’s busy,” Eddie interjected quickly.

“Eddie!” You warned with your brows raised, heat rising to your cheeks, what the fuck was he doing?

“Can I just—steal you away for a minute?” Eddie turned to you with his jealous gaze, hand gently having a hold on your arm.

“Oh, sure, man!”

“No!” You and James exclaimed in unison.

James stared at the two of you with his brows furrowed, both of you breathing heavily, an intense gaze connecting the two of you. With a sigh, you followed him out of the crowd, an apologetic smile thrown toward James.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You scoffed, “Me? What the hell are you doing, Eddie?” You snapped, naze garrowing.

“I’m not locking lips with James that’s for sure!”

“Jesus Christ I was not locking lips with—” You halted abruptly, the absurdity of the sentence hitting you like a wave. Taking a moment to breathe, “What are you a child?”

“Well, if pointing out the obvious means I’m a child then so fucking be it!” The words tumbled out of his mouth harshly, almost lost in the din of the bar.

“The obvious? Do I need to remind you that you were the one who kissed Chrissy?” You accused sharply, your anger returning and cutting through Eddie’s jealousy like a knife.

“Look, I—I’m genuinely sorry for that, Pinky, I am. I should’ve never done that, it was a mistake—” His voice strained, getting lost amidst the background clamor, their set was about to start and Eddie could careless.

He took a step closer, but you didn’t budge. “You don’t kiss someone as a mistake, Eddie! You don’t invite them to brunch as a fucking mistake!” You snapped, tone a poignant mix of bitterness, jealousy, and an equal amount of hurt. Teary yet ablaze gaze bored into Eddie's, breaking his heart more and more.

His shoulders sagged under the weight of your words, the realization of the irreparable damage sinking in.

He took a step closer, a desperate attempt to bridge the emotional gap.“Will you just listen to me?” Eddie's plea hung in the air, the room seemingly shrinking as you and Eddie’s gaze connected. Your breaths mingled, heavy with unspoken words that pulsed between you.

Only inches apart, and you couldn’t help it when your gaze drooped down to his lips, then back to his mellow eyes.

“Eddie, this is the fifth fucking time they’ve been calling you.” Gareth’s irritating voice snapped the conversation, loud enough to have you almost jump back, as you threw Gareth a daggering gaze.

“Just fucking wait for a second,” Eddie spat, trying to dismiss him, but the moment was gone.

And Gareth wasn’t having it. “No way, dude we go on in like five minutes,” He scoffed, momentarily dragging Eddie by his arm.

“Fine, fine!” Eddie scowled, shaking off the hold.

“You should uh— go.”

“Let me explain,” He almost begged, desperate.

But with another dismissal, you left.

Eddie wanted to drop everything and run to you, apologize, tell you what he felt, but somehow, some way he was always managing to fuck up the things between the two of you, now.

It was like he was fourteen again, his dad letting him know that he always managed to fuck up something good, that he was destined to the Munson name. Like he could never manage to do something right.

Wayne, Jonathan, Corroded Coffin, and Nancy all changed that belief.

But, you? Oh, god, you made him believe that he was good, you pulled him out of that darkness, you were the first one to believe in him, you were the one who encouraged him. You made him feel like he was on the right path, always.

And you were the one who mattered, if he didn’t have you believing that now, what else did he have?

With a hand on his shoulder, Jeff was dragging him back, he stared at your figure leaving, and with a sigh, he headed backstage.

Aurora was the fifth song they sang, and it should’ve gotten to you, the way his gaze didn’t leave yours, how vulnerable he sounded, the way he barely even made eye contact with the guitar he was supposed to be focusing on, that should’ve gotten to you.

But it didn’t.

Your glossy gaze and your crossed arms, as everyone else around you cheered for him, did nothing but upset you more and more.

Everything was so confusing that you couldn’t even make sense of yourself anymore. Yes, you were mad about everything with Chrissy, but you also knew he didn’t know everything that transpired between you and her.

Chrissy and Billy should’ve been enough for him to not want anything to do with her, yet you still believed him when he told you it was a mistake, that he would’ve never done it if he knew. And the pool… the things he said in the car. Hours ago when you went to his trailer.

Sure, he was sorry, and he said he’d prove himself to you.

But none of you ever out loud said anything, it had always been a cowardice dance around your feelings, and you were afraid that if this dance ended, then it would be all too real. It would all be over.

A heave of breath exited your lips, attempting to drown away the worries, but they were spiked up the second the song ended and Eddie spoke up again.

“This next song is for my friends over there, Nancy and Jonathan,” He exclaimed with a grin, finger excitedly pointing towards the two of them, it was the first time his gaze had left yours, involuntarily your head turned to your right.

“They’re getting married this weekend, and were kind enough to let me and my dipshit friends play,” He said with a sheepish grin, and Nancy and Jonathan shyly smiled at him, waving him off in a dismissive way,

“So this is for the soon-to-be newlywed couple, and for the special girl next to them, who’s mad at me for a lot of reasons, and she has every right to be, I was a total ass.” He earned chuckles and some cheering from the crowd, who unintentionally all faced you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, but hey, maybe this might help my case, huh?” He said with a grin, his gaze was dangerously addicting, full of promises, and you couldn’t help the way it made stupid butterflies appear in your stomach.

It was so easy for him to get you like this, you were starting to feel pathetic.

Speechless, and the heat quick to rise to your cheeks, you were trying to ignore the whispers and stares from the crowd, but it was basically impossible.

The opening chords were enough to rattle your memory, the dreamy guitar riffs from Eddie sweeping in echoing the space as if it was just the two of you.

You knew exactly which song he was playing.

And the vocals, added with Eddie’s smooth, sultry voice were enough to have your heartbeat raising making you almost feel small, haziness overtaking your mind.

And it only brought back one memory to your mind.

FIVE YEARS AGO.

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA.

Another job interview, another opportunity you feel like you have missed.

It hadn’t been long since the two of you had arrived in Los Angeles, yet every passing minute felt like you had been wasting away your time, you needed a job, and no one in stupid LA was hiring you.

A groan escaped your lips when you plopped yourself onto the couch, right next to Eddie who was way too into scribbling something into a notebook.

Wait… was he using the…?

“Is that… the notebook?” Your eyes lit up happily. It was such a small, stupid thing.

But for you, it was important. That notebook was important. And you never actually thought he’d care about it, but it looked like he was carrying it in his back pocket.

“Is that a crime?” Eddie sassed.

With a scoff, you narrowed your gaze. “No, doofus! I just didn’t think you’d actually use it.”

Almost taken aback Eddie sat up straight on the couch, knees brushing against yours now. “Are you kidding? Half of this bad boy is filled with lyrics.”

“What is the other half made of?” You asked with a dangerous grin.

“You’d have to kill me to find out.” Eddie enunciated dramatically, tone drooping lower to mimic mystery.

“Oh, come on!” You huffed, curiosity getting the best of you. Scooting closer to him, you pouted. “Can’t you at least give me something?” You asked, all doe-eyed, tone sticky sweet, in a way that always got to Eddie.

“Oh, sweetheart,” He groaned, almost melting into you, “You know I’ll give you anything if you ask that sweetly.”

You grinned happily, clapping your hands together in victory once he ripped up a page and handed it to you.

“That is the chorus of a song I’m working on,” He mumbled, eyes nervously following you, waiting to read your reaction.

She's thunderstorms

Lying on her front, up against the wall

She's thunderstorms

Your eyes blinked quickly to process everything. It had been not too long since the both of you had come to L.A., Eddie was desperately trying to send the band’s best material to any label who was willing to sign them.

And you had just gotten out of a horrible relationship, things had not been steady enough for the two of you to ever discuss anything about your feelings, always tip-toeing around it, but too scared to ever actually delve into it.

Yet, you could tell this was about you, something about being described as thunderstorms stuck to your mind, maybe he somehow meant it as good. But all it reminded you of was destruction. And he wasn’t wrong.

It was like everywhere you went, something horrible followed, exactly like a dark cloud looming over, waiting to strike anyone daring to be near you.

Your hand flew to your mouth, teeth grazing through your nails anxiously. “Who’s this thunderstorm girl?” You asked, masking your nervousness with a brittle smile.

He snatched the notebook back, ignoring your little huff. “Someone I went to school with,” He answered cooly and then leaned further into your face with a grin. “I was drivin’ around one day, then saw this girl’s car on the side of the road, to be nice I helped fix her car but then she became totally obsessed with me.” He recalled the first time he met you, animatedly.

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yeah, didn’t leave me alone for years.”

With a narrowed gaze, “Asshole,” you bantered.

“That’s so weird,” He hummed with a smirk “That was her favorite nickname for me,” quipped Eddie and you stuck your tongue at him childishly.

With a slight push on his elbow, he drew closer to you. “So… what did you think?” He coaxed nervously, you could tell it was important to him, yet being this close was making your mind spin.

“I like it,” you muttered, unable to face his beautiful features when he was so close, and your mind spinning with the fact that Eddie thought of you as destructive, too.

“That’s it? You… just like it?”

“No that’s not it, it’s just—” With a sigh you snatched back the notebook from his hands. “It’s just… isn’t this bad?”

“What?” His brows creased together in worry, “W-which one did you not like I can change it-” You shook your head, interrupting his anxious ramble.

“No! I love all of them! But describing… uh—this girl,” Tip-toeing around it, causing Eddie to smirk. “As thunderstorms? Isn’t that bad?”

“No, not at all. It’s a metaphor.” He shook his head, explaining gently.

“She embodies the essence of thunderstorms—unpredictable and explosive. She has the power to create chaos and destruction, and on the surface that might sound bad, yet within that destruction she sparks a new life. You know, making it so much better,” He hummed, licking his lips.

“And she also feels like a thunderstorm, intense and electrifying, shaking up your life, in the best way possible.”

“Oh. Wow,” You mumbled, gaze turning mellow with how well he explained everything, heart melting with how he saw you, not just from the surface, like he could peel the intricate layers of your existence, appreciating every part of it.

“Uhh, then I love that actually,” you concluded with a smile, attempting to mask the fluttering in your stomach. Did he really see you in that way?

Did he really see you as someone worth all of this? You tried to ignore the tears prickling in your eyes, begging to pour out, but you weren’t going to ruin this moment.

You didn’t deserve him. In the slightest. He didn’t deserve to get caught up in your bullshit. You shouldn’t have dragged him here. You were being selfish, but, god, did it feel good.

To finally feel safe, to finally have someone take care of you, to finally have someone you could rely on. After everything, didn’t you at least deserve to be a little selfish?

But that feeling ate away at you, even though you shook it off for the moment, it was eventually going to return. And it did.

“You do?” His brows raised in surprise, it made you want to fuck all and just grab his cheeks and kiss him, lips plush together until the two of you couldn’t breathe.

But you couldn’t afford that, you couldn’t afford the feelings, nor could you afford the fallout. You couldn’t lose him.

“Mhmm,” You answered with a broken smile, hoping he wouldn’t notice. He always did.

“She sounds special.”

“She is,” Eddie agreed, eyeing you with a worried look. “Very, very special,” He repeated, he could tell something was off.

But it was okay, because he was here for you now, and he wasn’t going to leave.

NOW:

Suddenly the room felt suffocating.

Eddie’s gaze on you felt mocking.

It was stupid, he had just dedicated the song to you, yet all your mind could focus on was everything bad that had happened. Ruining everything good that happened with him.

How were you even going to be with him if you couldn’t even handle this?

Fear, trust issues, being afraid of not knowing how things were going to go, if you would fuck this up too, then that was it for you. No one else could compare, and you knew that.

Maybe if you just knew that the same went for Eddie, if you just could see that the five years you spent apart had been just as hell-ish for him if not more. The constant thoughts in his mind reminded him that he could never be over you, truly. Sure, it hurt less now, but the scar was still there, scabbing the second someone mentioned you. The realization of knowing no one could ever be you etched onto his skin.

“Hey… you okay?” Steve’s concerned voice snapped you out of your thoughts, Eddie’s voice served as a background noise while his gaze was still stuck on you.

“Y-yeah, I just—” You faltered, face growing numb and anxiety increasing when you suddenly needed some air.

Too much, all of it was too much.

Eddie could almost sense it, he grew worried at your frowny brows and your tear-streaked gaze.

“I’ll be right back,” you mumbled, body jerking back scurrying out quickly when you ignored everyone calling out for your name.

Eddie’s vocals almost halted, missing a few notes on the guitar before Gareth was quick to snap him back to it.

His head cocked toward your direction, desperate, nearly begging to stop the show, but all of them shook their head quickly, and once Eddie turned back to see the look on Jonathan and Nancy’s face, he realized he couldn’t do this to them.

This was his friends' wedding, and he owed this to them. When the song ended, he was quick to mouth to the others, “After the next song, we’re taking a break.” It wasn’t a request, it was final.

And frankly, the rest of them were too tired out to even argue with a hot-headed Eddie.

“So how is your plan working, dingus?” Robin jeered at Steve.

“Shut up.”

There were a couple more people outside, all leaning against the wall, chuckling while talking over each other loudly, the smoke of their lit cigarettes quick to take over your senses.

With a cough, you leaned further away from them, mind still unraveling what had just happened. You didn’t even know what was happening anymore.

You wanted to smoke, hand itched to reach for the pocket of your jacket and light one to take away your stress, but you could barely breathe as it was right now.

A light tap on your shoulder snapped you away from your thoughts.

Who was it now?

You huffed loudly when your head cocked back.

Fucking great.

Chrissy.

“Oh, Jesus Christ!” You pinched the bridge of your nose in annoyance, this just had to be your luck, your feet picked up quickly, hand quick to reach for the door and go back inside.

“Please, please don’t leave,” She pleaded.

Your hold on the door remained, barely glancing back at her, “Just leave me alone!” You snapped.

“I just want to apologize, please, then I’ll leave you alone, forever.”

“Please, just five minutes.”

You shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t.

Your hold on the door faltered, and with a deep sigh, you turned to her. “Fine.”

“Five minutes,” You warned, your patience already wearing thin.

Her face lit up, blinking a few times to make sure she heard you correctly. “O-oh, okay, good,” She cleared her throat.

“First of all, I’m sorry, for everything, for what I said five years ago, for what I did with Billy, for using what he did to you like a fucking joke. For w-what I said about your parents.” She stammered.

“It’s too late, I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have done any of those things, you didn’t deserve it. You deserved a better friend, someone like you.” She almost looked at you like she was waiting for your approval, gauging your reaction, your expressionless face encouraged her to continue.

“I was bitter, jealous. Which isn’t a fucking excuse, I know, I was just—” she took a deep breath. “You were everything I wanted to be, careless, had all the boys' attention, and you didn’t even have to try, you didn’t have to do anything, and they’d just fall at your feet. And I was stupid, bitter, and insecure enough to envy that.”

“That’s not my problem, Chrissy.” You spat out with your gaze narrowing, you couldn’t handle her pity party right now.

“And really, you wanted to be me? Chrissy I didn’t have parents, my boyfriend was a narcissistic asshole.I was broke.” You scoffed with an ironic chuckle, shaking your head in anger.

“I know, I know. It was stupid, and I was stupid, and you didn’t deserve any of that.” Sincerity. Something you haven’t seen from her in years.

“I just wanted to tell you that none of it was your fault.” Now your gaze narrowed, a chuckle rolling on your lips.

You opened your mouth to speak, to protest. “No, I know you’re going to say you didn’t think that but I know you do. Even though you hate me, which I don’t blame you, I know you like the back of my hand, you blame yourself, you always did it. And I’m telling you shouldn’t because it was all my fault. A-and I shouldn’t have done whatever I did with Eddie, I practically took advantage of him like he did to me and then got mad at him, oh god, I’m such a fucking bitch, aren’t I?”

Your eyes blinked quickly to process all of it. Her apology didn’t mean anything, her words didn’t mean anything. But deep down, you knew she was right, even if you wouldn’t admit it. Because you spent many nights blaming yourself, for even opening up to them in the first place.

“First of all, breathe,” you mumbled with annoyance.

“Second of all, yes you are,” you huffed.

“And, taking advantage? What do you mean?”

“Some fucked up part of me wanted him because I knew you wanted him back then, a-and he was right there and he was being nice to me and—” Chrissy took a deep sigh, big blue eyes staring into you knowing that you were not going to like what she was going to say.

“I should’ve known.”

With puckered brows, you crossed your arms against your chest. “Known what?”

“That he was still hung up on you,” she muttered.

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Chrissy—”

“No, no just listen.” But she wasn’t going to let you spiral.

“Look you were dumb enough then—” You threw her a glare, so daggeringly cold that she stopped.

“Sorry,” she muttered before continuing, “Look, the two of you wasted a lot of time. And I know it’s funny hearing this from me because I took part in it, but I’m only saying this because he’s a nice guy, even though I don’t particularly like him right now, he’s a nice guy, and you deserve someone like him.” She enunciated, azure hues embodying such sympathy that had you taken aback.

“You loved him back then, too. I could see it, and I could see it in him, too. That’s what I always wanted, and maybe that’s why he intrigued me so much. But I knew he never got over you.”

You could feel your heart skip a beat, it wasn’t anything new, but hearing this from her, it meant something.

You needed to take control of your feelings, and hearing Chrissy’s words was doing nothing but fuel them more. “Chrissy stop—”

“No, Pinky! He told me! He told me it was you! It had always been you!” She exclaimed, her face growing a nice pink color as you stood frozen.

Your brain felt mushy, rest of your body felt so warm, but still that anger lingered. Why couldn��t he just tell you this? Why couldn’t he just show you?

“What?” You mumbled, brows pinched together.

“Yes!” She exclaimed, sighing at your reaction.

“Look, I just wanted to tell you this, and tell you to get your head out of your ass. I know I’m the last person you wanted to hear this from, but I had to at least make one thing right for you because I know I fucked up every other thing.”

You wanted to tell her to stay the fuck out of it, you wanted to tell her it was all because of her. That she basically ruined your life. But it wasn’t true. It wasn’t all her, it was Billy, too. It wasn’t all her, Eddie played a part in it, too.

But you weren’t going to waste your breath, you didn’t need to blow up in her face for her to know she was wrong, she needed to let that feeling sink in. You weren’t going to forgive her, and you didn’t need to make a fuss about it to feel real.

This was it. A closure.

“I’m sorry, for everything. And I know that you won’t forgive me, but that’s okay. I’m sorry, but please listen to what I just said. Please don’t get in your head and try to ruin something this perfect, okay?”

A peaceful smile appeared on your lips, and you took a deep breath. “You’re right, I won’t forgive you.” You weren’t going to give her any satisfaction or approval, her words didn’t mean a thing.

“Goodbye, Chrissy.” You mumbled.

You could see her stammering, struggling to open her mouth, because she couldn’t say anything else, and this is what she promised, five minutes. It was over.

You backed yourself against the wall, fingers fishing out the pack of cigarettes sitting in the pocket of your jacket.

Without having anything else left to say, she left. And you heaved a sigh of breath, the tip of your cigarette smoldering when you lit it.

You inhaled with eyes squeezed shut, head swirling with much to think about. But at least you were alone. Finally, some space for you to think, and to lay out a little bit of your stress with the most unhealthy outlet.

And of course, that peace lasted for about a few minutes, just when you had finished your cigarette, squishing the remains on the nearest trashcan, Eddie appeared, lightly squeezing your arm to have your attention.

“What?” You snapped when you saw him, eyeing the way he looked taken aback.

His hands held up in front of his chest in defeat, clearly not understanding your sudden rage. The laughter around you had died, people who were smoking outside the bar were clearly more entertained by your drama.

With a huff, you dragged Eddie away from it all, still close to the bar but far away to not have any other distractions.

He sighed, brows etched with worry. “Why did you leave?”

Your hand flew to your forehead, trying to calm your nerves, trying to clear your mind. “Eddie, are you kidding me?” You scoffed, arms wrapped across your chest defensively. “You can’t just drag me away from James, dedicate songs to me and—”

His forehead puckered. “Why not? They’re all about you anyway,” he said with a sly smirk.

“Aurora, She’s Thunderstorms, Zero, Forget Her, Resolve, Fool, two fucking albums, all dedicated to you, you know that.”

“These notes? These stupid notes I’ve been carrying?” He huffed loudly, hand quick to fish inside of his back pocket, aggressively flipping through the pages. “Even if every nerve in my body were numb I’d still be able to feel her.” He turned the page toward you before flipping again.

“I have tried to forget you but I can’t, you invade my dreams, my mind, my whole fucking life. You’re stuck in me and I don’t have the heart to get you out.” He shook his head, reciting it all like it was nothing, but you felt all of it.

His notes making you dizzy. His words scrambling your mind like never before.

“She’s the tear that hangs inside my soul forever. That one is uh—in a song, too,” he mumbled, cheeks flushing with how passionate he was getting, and you held your breath, it’s like you were staring into his soul.

Stark naked. Laying bare, he really was doing this. And you didn’t want him to stop, even though your mouth suggested otherwise.

“And so much more embarrassing stuff that I don’t want to include to not ruin my chances,” he muttered with a lazy smile, and you hated that you could feel it in your skin, the flutters, stomach flipping in the best possible way.

“All fucking about you. Because it was you, from the moment we met.”

“S—stop,” your mouth betrayed you, it was the furthest thing from the truth, and you needed to hear more. You needed the reassurance, you needed him to convince you. More than anything in the world.

But it was all so scary, and he was so close to you that you could feel his passion integrated into your veins.

“Why, Pinky, why should I stop? Why do we have to tip-toe around each other, huh?” He was desperate, eyes flashing with a newfound of desire for you, he wasn’t going to let it go this time.

And it scared you, him being this determined, getting so close to what you actually felt was making your skin crawl, because the way you could feel your heart thumping against your ribcage wasn’t normal. What he was making you feel wasn’t normal. “Because w—we can’t!”

“We can’t what?” He complained, a deep sigh escaping his lips.

“W—we can’t do this, you can’t—”

He shook his head with his brows puckered. “Who are you to decide that? I want to, I so badly want to,” He spat, taking a step closer to you, face merely inches away from you.

His gaze was dangerously inviting, those alluring amber eyes melted into yours, making your pupils dilate, breath hitching as you struggled to keep him away. “Please, Eddie, d—don’t.”

You gulped, hand raising to put a space between the two of you, but it was impossible. He was in your veins now. “Too much has happened, you with Chrissy and—” You didn’t even know what you were blabbering about, just anything to stop your feelings from getting out.

“Chrissy was a mistake!” He retorted with a hiss. He hated that you saw Chrissy as a problem between the two of you. Yes, he fucked up, but it really was a mistake, he’d take it all back in a heartbeat if he could.

Your gaze narrowed, that pettiness returned when you scoffed. “Which time, when you kissed her or when you brought her to brunch?”

Eddie let out a bitter chuckle, shaking his head when he looked at you with a dumbfounded look. “Jesus fucking Christ…” He took a breather. “I can’t believe you’re doing that again,” he mumbled, realizing that it wasn’t going to be easy to get you out of this mindset.

It was going to be hard, to convince you of anything, and he understood that, he had trust issues himself, but he wasn’t going to back down. This was it.

You crossed your arms against your chest, gaze avoiding him momentarily. “Doing what?” You muttered.

“You just— you get scared when things get serious, running away when it gets just even a little bit too real,” He scoffed, angling closer to you, fingers ruffling through his curls in frustration.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah! You call me a coward and fucking look at you!” He snapped, hands gesturingly pointing to you.

“Scrambling just at the thought of us being together.” He argued, some part of him feeling a bit insecure, that maybe you didn’t want this. But, no, he saw that glint in your eyes, he knew the little angry twitch on your lips. You felt the same. And all you needed was a little push.

You breathed, mind scrambled and trying so hard to convince yourself to leave. “T—that’s not it, you—uh you just don’t get it!” You complained with a huff.

Another step closer. One more step and his lips would be on yours, Eddie knew this, you knew this. His gaze momentarily drooped down to your lips, then back to your dilated pupils.

“Then make me understand, let me help you, don’t fucking run, not this time.” It was a little jab, but something needed to get you to spill, he was playing all the right cards and you were getting overwhelmed.

“J—just stop!”

“Why? Fucking why? Tell me one good fucking reason as to why we shouldn’t try it, we never even gave it a chance!” He ranted, veins in his forehead popping with how much he was trying to keep it all together. And you weren’t even trying.

“We wouldn’t work, okay?”

He shook his head. “Not good enough,” He argued.

“W—we’re on two different paths now, Eddie.” You didn’t have any good excuses, he was right.

“Not good enough.” Once again, that same arguing tone.

You huffed. “Too much time passed and—”

“Not fucking good enough!” He cursed, hands landing on your shoulder to keep you in place, and your cheeks flushed immediately, while still trying to deny it. You were pathetic.

“Stop being a fucking coward!” He seethed, eyes fiery and red.

Why were you insisting on being so fucking stubborn? You were driving him crazy, yet it wasn’t going to stop him.

Coward is what had you scrambling. Because you knew he was right. “Fuck you,” You spat, body jerking quickly to leave, feet picking up quickly as Eddie groaned loudly.

So. Fucking. Stubborn.

He was quick on his feet, letting curses slip past his lips before he yanked you to him, earning a small gasp from your lips before you finally faced him.

Gaze mellow, but just as fiery, your furrowed brows and dilated pupils only encouraging him more and more. Flutters in your stomach had never left, your skin was burning, everywhere, but specifically on the hold he had on you.

You didn’t manage to utter anything else, you couldn’t because he had you this time. There was no running away from it, your heart was hammering so hard inside of your chest that you were sure he could hear it.

His hold on your arm was firm but somehow gentle, letting you know that he wasn’t going to let you go.

You opened your mouth, wanting to speak, but he interrupted, his hands now firmly cupping your cheeks, squishing you with force, and you couldn’t help the contended sigh that left your parted lips. “I’m not letting you run away, not this time,” He mumbled, words sounding like silk falling from his lips, all you could do was gaze into him. He stood inches away from you, breath fanning against your face.

He licked his lips desperately, gaze drooping to your candy-glossed, needy lips. Face so close that you could feel the desperation radiating off of him. And you shared it. You managed to take a quick breath before his hand fisted your hair and his mouth crashed down to yours.

He pressed you harder against his chest, breathless, your lips molded together, a perfect fit. And he could taste the Cosmopolitan on your tongue, a tinge of alcohol mixed with your sweetness, making his head spin, a taste he realized he’d never have enough of.

Those little thumps your heart did were now out of control, possibly pounding a million beats a second. His small stubble scratched against your chin, rough, it should’ve made you uncomfortable yet all it did was make you kiss him harder, shutting up your brain as your mouth replied to him, kissing him back with just as much force, you melted into him, melted into his hold, and you let him engulf you, fully, completely.

Plushy lips slightly parted apart, his tongue slipped past between your teeth, your hand finding its way to his hair, feeling the curly strands between your fingers, it’s softer than you expected and your lips parted to let out a slight whine as you tugged at them.

All those years of wishing, all those years of wanting, yearning, and needing exploded into this. Kissing like your lives depended on it, chests pressed against each other, Eddie’s hand slipping to your waist, desperately tugging you closer to him as if that was even possible.

Your heart exploded into your chest, his tongue not wavering the chance to explore yours, sucking on it, greedily, desperately.

The background noises disappeared, the cackles of the girls, the booming music coming from inside of the bar, and the honks from the busy street. They ceased to exist and it was just you and him. Feeling each other, completely, fully.

You knew at some point one of you had to pull away, but none of you dared to, it was just pure desire, a hunger that couldn’t be sated.

All the years spent yearning and pining, acting like two fucking idiots.

He wanted to breathe you, drink you in, and he wasn’t intent on letting you go. Ever.

You from five minutes ago who wanted to refuse him, refuse this was an absolute fucking idiot. Gone. You tasted like the sweetest honey and he tasted like everything you wanted and more. It’s even needier than the first kiss, more sure, it’s like a promise.

This is it. Both of you can feel it. This finally changes everything.

final authors note — uhhhh so yeah... if yall wanna talk about that my asks r open LMAO.

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson series #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson angst #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #getaway car series #getaway car

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winterrrnight · 13 days

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babe I just had the best idea for a rafe concept it pains me

Okay so imagine like reader is at work (somewhere idk where) and she just gets so overwhelmed but her and rafes relationship is still new so she doesn't call him because she doesn't wanna bother him....😭

I'm probably not the first person to think of this but it ON MY MINDDDD

literally dropped everything to write this!!!! this reader is way too me coded and I cannot :’) thank you so so much for the req vee 🥹💗 you asked for a concept… I wrote a fic…. :D I hope you like this vee <3

down for you

PAIRING: soft!rafe cameron x gn!reader

SUMMARY: rafe wants you to be able to rely on him for anything and everything.

WARNINGS: the reader is a preschool teacher and quite self dependent; lots of fluff; cute nicknames; lovesick rafe (my fav fr); minimal swearing

EDITH SPEAKS: this request speaks volumes to me 🥹 this is way too me coded, and I just had to write it, I hope you all like this! the ending is maybe a bit abrupt tho :( please like and reblog if you liked reading <3 feedback is always appreciated 🍹

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I should leave, I haven't yet, but when you smile, I just forget

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You can swear this day can't get any worse. You’ve been on your feet basically the entire day, always rushing from your students here to there. You love the little kiddos with your entire heart, but today, for some reason, they are being an extra pain in the ass. They aren’t as cooperative as you’d prefer; you don’t know what’s gotten into them, they are like little energy packets constantly running around.

Due to some teacher duties you aren’t even able to sit down for your lunch break, taking away the only 15 minutes you have to yourself. And it just gets progressively worse when you finally leave the school to go back to your place and your car has a slashed tire, and today had to be the day when you don’t have a spare tire in your trunk.

It’s been over 6 hours since you left your house this morning, and it’s just Tuesday, but it’s feeling like the longest, most excruciating week ever. You’re now leaning against your car door, letting out a deep exhale as you lean your head back, feeling a headache creep into your brain and pulse harshly. You’re tired, hungry, absolutely exhausted… and all you want are the warm hugs of your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend.

Rafe is quite a new addition in your life, both of you being together for a mere month. He’s been so loving to you, always protective and just genuinely taking great care of you.

You pull out your phone and find his contact, but before you can dial him, your thumb hovers over his name in sudden realization – he’s always at work at this time.

You begin to contemplate your initial decision of asking him to come here to help you out, and then ultimately decide against it, realizing he’s probably very busy at work, and would only be heavily distracted if you call him.

So, just like how you always do it, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It’s nearing 6 pm when you finally get to reach your place. You had to make calls to get yourself a mechanic to get your car fixed, who took his sweet sweet time to come to you. You’re now completely exhausted, wanting nothing more than just to plop on your bed and sleep till your heart desires. You can hear your stomach grumble since you never had the chance to eat the lunch you missed out on, but you make it a problem for later, deciding to just take a nap first.

As you drive into your driveway, you recognise Rafe’s black Range Rover already parked, with him standing next to it, leaning back against the hood of his car as he’s looking intently at his phone. As he catches the sound of your car driving, he instantly looks up, watching your car enter the driveway.

Before you can properly park and get out, Rafe rushes to you, opening the door for you.

“Oh my god where have you been?” He asks you, his voice laced with concern. “I tried calling you and texting you, you always come back home by late afternoon,”

You step out of the car and Rafe shuts the door, a hand quickly landing at the small of your back as you both walk to the porch of your house. He can see you’re really tired; droopy eyes, heavy steps, deep sighs; he knows something happened.

“Yeah my phone died,” you mutter as you unlock the main door of your house, both of you stepping inside. “I just… today was kind of a heavy day, nothing much honestly,” you shrug as you toss your keys in the dish and remove your coat and shoes.

“What happened?” Rafe asks, still really concerned for you as he watches you take off your cost and hang it on the coat rack. As you’re done, you face him with a small smile on your face.

“Nothing much, really,” you say softly, gently cupping his cheek with a hand and tenderly caressing his skin. “Don’t worry, yeah?” You mumble, taking your hand off his cheek as you make your way to the kitchen.

Rafe stays on your heels, following you and monitoring every single move of yours – your padding till the fridge, opening it, getting a bottle of water, unscrewing it and drinking from it.

“You look so exhausted, I can see it in your eyes,” he comments. “Your hair is all messy, your clothes are dirty; it’s clearly not nothing. Come on, tell me, what happened,”

His voice is stern, but not in an angry way; but in an apprehensive way. He moves his hand to your face, gently brushing your hair as he fixes some of the unruly strands.

As you finish drinking your water; drinking almost all of it in one go, you keep your bottle aside and let out a sigh, turning to look at him. “It was just one of those… heavy days, but it’s over now yeah? I’m now home,” you say softly.

“But just tell me what happened,” Rafe’s voice now drops to a whisper as he moves closer to you, continuing to weave his fingers through your hair.

You close your eyes for a moment, delving into the relaxing feeling of Rafe’s fingers softly combing through your hair, but also realizing he’s going to keep pressing for you to tell him what happened.

“The kids were a bit uncooperative today,” you say with a soft chuckle. “And then we have this event coming up at school, so I was busy for my entire lunch break preparing for it. And then my car had a flat tire and I didn’t have a spare so I had to get a mechanic, which took most of the time. But besides that, nothing much happened,” you say with a small shrug.

“Besides all that?” Rafe mutters incredulously. “That’s already a lot, baby, why didn’t you call me when you found out about your flat tire? I would’ve come; or sent someone to get you, we would’ve had lunch in my office, and I would have had someone take care of the tire and bring your car back too.” There’s a small frown on his face and he now holds your face in both his hands, gently skimming your cheeks with his thumbs.

You look up in his soft, baby blue eyes. “I did think of calling you but-”

“But?”

“But I thought…” you take a deep breath, your eye contact with him faltering. “you’ll be busy, and I didn’t want to be a burden to you, really, I was able to get it all fixed just fine,”

You can hear Rafe tsk; his tongue clicking against his teeth as he softly shakes his head. “I’m never busy for you okay? My work does not ever get more importance than you, okay? It never does, and it never will, especially when you’re in trouble and need help,”

He gently grips your chin and tips your head back just a bit, making you look at him. His eyes are softened, the blue even more warmer than usual.

“I know you prefer to do things on your own,” he whispers, “but you have to realise that you really don’t need to do each thing on your own, especially now that I’m around. I won’t mind, really, and besides, I would love to show everyone off at work that I am the boyfriend of the most beautiful person on this damn planet yeah?”

You can’t help but chuckle softly at his words as you keep looking in his eyes.

“So, promise me, next time you need any sorts of help, want me to do something for you, or just want me to be there, you don’t think twice about calling me up okay?” He says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

He can see the reluctancy in your eyes, but you eventually give in and nod.

“Okay, promise,” you murmur, smiling as you wrap your arms around his waist, hugging him tightly. He gladly hugs you back, snuggling his face in your neck as he gently rubs your back.

“So…” you speak up, and he hums back in response, both of you still hugging.

“I’ll take up on that offer right now. I’ll go and shower, and you make something for me to eat yeah?”

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @lunalitva @sadfury @shores-kayla @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @callsignwidow @starkowswife @drewstarkeyswifehoe @jjchaer @f4ll-for-you @wearemadeofstardust0 @drewsmusee @rafegirly @addriaenne @leighbronk @rafesdrew @bejeweledreverie @raf3sgff @aerangi @drewstarkey1bae @moneymaybank @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-tortured-poets-depxrtment @rafesgiirl @theoraekenslover @fals3-g0d @personalfavsthatarerandom @b1mb0slvt

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Gamer boy (part one)

Modern!gamer Eddie Munson x babysitter fem!reader

Summary: you’re propositioned to baby sit by your father, but it’s for Eddie “the freak” Munsons niece. You had history, but now you can’t even stand being near him. Will you both be able to put aside your distain? Or will a little gaming bet, bring you closer than ever before?

⚠️series warnings: eventual smut 18+ mdni, angst, friends to enemies to lovers, mutual pining, mean!eddie, slight fuck!boy eddie, cocky eddie, gaming bets in exchange for sexual acts, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (m and f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, slight degradation, choking, hair pulling, spit play, spanking, dom!eddie.

A/N: this was going to be a one shot, but then I go more and more ideas so I’m turning into a little series 💚 (remember to tip your writers, with a reblog and comment)

You couldn’t believe this was happening, you wanted to be emancipated. How could your dad do this to you? Why you?

Okay, that’s probably really dramatic. But, it was warranted.

It was a beautiful Thursday morning, birds were chirping, coffee was brewing and your mom was making her famous French toast. You haven’t felt this happy in a while, little did you know that metaphorical rug of happiness was about to be ripped from under you.

“Y/n, can you come in here?” Your dad yelled from his office down the hall

The only time your father ever called you into his office to talk, was always about something serious or a proposition he wanted to tell you about. Not ask, never ask. You didn’t have a choice in his “business proposals” at least that’s what they felt like to you.

Shuffling over your feet as your heart rate picked up. You made it into the big office, oak wood shelves filled with books your dad never had time to read. He was leaning back in his black leather chair behind his big oak wood desk, with a look of contentment on his face, it made a shiver run down your body.

“Yes, dad?” You say as you look down at the desk in front of you.

“I have a job I need you to do.” He says with a small chuckle

“Okay, what is it?” You cock your head like a puppy full of curiosity

“Well, I need you to baby sit for one of my employees. It’ll be from tonight to Sunday night.” He says

“This weekend? But dad it’s a three day weekend, I had plans with friends.” You say as if you can’t even believe he’s telling you this. I mean maybe it would make a difference if he was asking and not telling, but either way you were upset.

“Sorry, kiddo. I already told him you would. Can’t go back on my word, all a man has is his word.”

You roll your eyes, and cross your arms over your chest.

“Fine, who’s kid?”

“Wayne Munsons, he’s going out of town on a business trip for me. He has a daughter she’s about three and his usual sitter isn’t able to do it, something about her being an older lady, so I offered up your help since you use to babysit the neighborhood kids. He’s leaving at 9 tonight so you’ll need to be over there by 8:30”

“Wayne Munson? As in Eddie Munson? Dad no, absolutely not! Why can’t he do it?” You say as your eyes begin to water

“You know that boy, does he look like he can take care of a three year old for three days?” Your dad was beginning to get aggravated with your tone and questioning

“I cannot believe this. I hate him, how am I suppose to go over there and act civil when you’re asking me to go hang out with satan in the flesh?”

Your dad laughs at your outburst

“I’m not asking you to hang out with him, I’m asking you to babysit his niece.”

“For three days?!” You shout “I’m sorry, but cmon dad, I can’t do that.”

“You can, and you will. End of discussion.”

“I- whatever.” You turn on your heels and stomp out of there

“Hey, hun. French toast is ready,” your mom says with a big smile.

“I’m not hungry, sorry mom.” You say as you trudge up the stairs to go sulk in your bedroom

After you packed your duffel bag full of clothes and toiletries, showered and put on some comfy black cotton shorts and a white long sleeve shirt. You got into your Prius and head for the last place on earth you ever wanted to be, Forest hills trailer park.

You don’t even remember why you and Eddie hate each other so much. Well you do, but now that you’re both adults, it all seems so redundant.

You and Eddie have known each other since he moved in with his uncle in first grade. You were actually friends at some point, then you hit middle school and your body started changing, you started getting a different kind of attention from Eddie and other boys. You both got closer that summer before freshman year. Close as in, you shared your first kiss with him, amongst some other things. But, once high school started, everything changed. Eddie became distant. You knew he was bullied, even worst than middle school, but you didn’t understand why he was so angry at you. Okay, well it could’ve had something to do with a small rumor that went around about you, and a certain basketball player. It wasn’t 100 percent incorrect, you did go on a date with Josh Young and you did make out in the back of his brothers Camaro, but you definitely did not give him a handy or a blow job, you knew him and his jock meathead friends started it because you didn’t want to go any further with him that night. Eddie avoided you at all costs after that, which was total bullshit because when you and him weren’t sucking face and feeling each other up, he was going on and on about perfect little Angela Thomas, a blonde cheerleader. Go figure. He had no right to be angry, so you both never talked after that. Except the occasional condescending comments that would leave his mouth when you’d both be at your lockers, his unfortunately being way too close to yours or that time you both had biology together, sophomore year and were paired up for a project. You ended up doing the whole thing yourself and allowed him to get half the credit, but other than that. Radio silence, on both ends.

You pull up to the only trailer with beer cans littered around the yard, parking next to Eddies rust bucket of a van. You couldn’t believe he was still driving that thing. It was a million years old and on its last leg, but something about seeing it made you nervous. Where’d that come from?

On the other side was Wayne’s pick up truck, the bed of it holding his black suitcase.

You keep your eyes on your brown platform ugg boots, as you make your way up the steps to the front door.

You knock a few times, wishing you could be anywhere literally anywhere but here.

“Y/n, hello sweetheart.” Wayne Munson says with a whisper, as he feels around his blue jeans for his keys.

“Laylas asleep in her room, she ate, she bathed, so she’s out for the night.” He chuckles

“There’s food in the fridge, money for pizza on the counter, and if you need anything just ask Eddie, he’s also in his room playin his damn games. If you want, you can sleep in my bed or you can take the couch, whatever you’re comfortable with.” — “Before I go, I just really want to tell you how much I appreciate this, darlin.” He says as he throws you an appreciative smile.

“Yeah of course, Mr. Munson. Have a safe trip.” You smile back, as you close the door behind him.

Now what the hell do you, do?

After sitting uncomfortably on the couch for an hour, while scrolling on your phone and occasionally looking up at the Netflix movie you decided to put on as background noise, you hear a door open. Your heart starts beating out of your chest at the realization that you’re about to see Eddie.

The kitchen light turns on, making your eyes slightly squint. As you looked over at him, he was drinking Pepsi straight from the liter.

Ugh he was so disgusting

He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand, and then closed the cap, putting it back in the fridge as he let out a burp.

God, you really couldn’t stand him

Even if he was wearing nothing but grey sweats, so low it showed off his v line and trail of hair right above his—

“Oh, you’re here.” He says as he rolls his eyes

He knew you were here, he just loved pissing you off.

“Yup, don’t wanna be here just as much as you don’t want me here, Munson.”

“You sure about that?” He snickers

“Positive.” You say as you continue scrolling on your phone, pretending to read something, that you’re not actually reading. You just don’t want it to feel anymore awkward than it already does.

“Mm, okay princess. You have a nice night.” He turns around, shutting off the light and heading back into his room.

Princess? Ew, You hate him so much, but why’d he have to look so good? Fuck him!

You eventually got comfortable on the couch with the pillow and throw blanket, Wayne kindly left out for you. Falling asleep a little after you started some cheesy romantic comedy.

You wake up to the sound of loud metal music, and sun peaking in through the curtains. Once you roll over, you’re greeted by a little face staring down at you. Scaring the living shit out of you.

“Hi. My name is Layla, what’s yours?” The toddler asks, words coming out in the cutest little voice.

“Hi Layla, my names y/n. I’m gonna be babysitting you while your daddy is away.” You say as you sit up and rub your face

“Can you make me breakfast?” She says as she walks a little closer to you, you now notice she’s got a stuffed puppy in her arm.

“Of course I can, what would you like?” You put your ugg booties on and stand up, making your way to the kitchen as Layla follows closely behind

“Waffles, please!” She says excitedly

“Okay, waffles comin’ right up.”

“Thank you, y/n.” Layla says with the sweetest little smile

“No problem. So who’s your friend?” You ask, looking at the stuffy in her arm

“This is Mr. Floppy,” She says as she holds up the brown floppy eared puppy

“Well hello, nice to meet you Mr. Floppy.” You bend down and shake one of his floppy ears, like you would a hand.

Layla giggles like it was the funniest thing she’d ever seen.

As you’re plating laylas waffles and topping them with butter and syrup, the loud music that was booming from down the hall, stops. Eddie’s door flys open and he’s swinging his keys on his index finger, dressed in his usual; band tee, black jeans, leather jacket and battle vest.

“Teddy!” Layla shouts as she skips to hug his legs

“Sup, rugrat?” He says as he ruffles the top of her braided pigtails

“Are you leaving?” She inquires with a sad look on her face.

“I am, I’ll be back later. Just gotta take care of some stuff.” He says while looking over at you as you cut up Laylas waffles.

Eddie walks out the front door after telling Layla bye, leaving the screen door to slam.

After playing with your new favorite toddler, almost all afternoon. Feeding her lunch and playing some more. She’s finally, down for a nap.

You begin cleaning up her toys off the living room floor, and turning the god awful voice of this blippi character on YouTube off.

You decide to get your AirPods out of your bag and pair them to your phone, so you can listen to some music while you clean up a little bit more.

You began washing the dishes, cleaning down counters and cleaning off the dining table, as well as sweeping the kitchen floor.

As you’re plugging in the big clunky vacuum, you hear Eddie’s other clunker come to a halt in the front yard, doors slamming and some talking, before the door is being unlocked and opened.

Eddie bounds in after some girl, you’d never seen her before. She was blonde and pretty. It made your stomach plummet and your hands shake.

Why are you jealous?

You didn’t miss the big smile on his face as he looked over at you, and began walking her to his bedroom.

Just breathe. JUST BREATHE. You hate him, why do you want to cry? Do you hate him? Fuck!

This was gonna be torture. You wanted to get the fuck out of there as soon as possible. But you knew you couldn’t. So you decide to put your headphones back in, and continue cleaning. It helped get your mind off of what Eddie and blondie, could be doing behind that door, but only for a little bit before your mind began to wonder.

So you gather some clothes and head for the bathroom, slipping inside and locking the door. You put the shower on, and begin undressing. Thanking god, Eddie had his music on pretty loud, but also not, because Layla could wake up any minute, so you had to make this fast.

After you get out, you slip on a black long sleeve onesie, you didn’t even realize you packed. The shorts on it are really short, and is constantly riding up, showcasing some of your butt. The front has about a dozen buttons going down to the middle of your stomach so you can control how much cleavage you want to show off. Opting for a good amount, enough to capture attention. It seemed like the most logical thing to go with, in this situation, whatever “situation” this was.

You find a brush in one of the drawers, brush out your hair and then make your way out of the bathroom and down the hall to check on Layla, she’s still sleeping soundly, so you walk back to the couch. Trying to drown out whatever noises you hear coming from Eddie’s room, you can’t make out if they’re laughs or moans and you’d rather keep it that way.

Some time goes by, while you’re scrolling on tik tok. Eddie’s door opens, as miss blondie walks out and leaves out the front door. A deep breath you didn’t even realize you were holding is released, after the door shuts. Your eyes are glued to your phone during her walk of shame, not wanting to see any marks or anything that’ll make this any worst for you.

You hear Eddie’s footsteps getting closer, so you decide to take a peek. Eddie’s in nothing but his black jeans, while his checkered boxers peak out the top and a cigarette behind his ear.

Why is he coming over here?

“What are you, doing?” He says as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch

“Just scrolling on my phone.” You say as you look over at him, his face looked flushed and sweaty, it makes your stomach hurt even more. God, you can’t believe you are feeling this way for Eddie, you like him. You wish you could fucking leave, you hate this, you hate these old feelings you’ve stuffed down for so long, popping back up like a fucking Jack in the box.

“You uh, you want me to order a pizza or something? I worked up an appetite.” He smirks

“Yeah, cool.” You say almost low enough to be a whisper

“Okay, um. Do you want to watch a movie or something?” He says as he looks down at your cleavage, nipples hard and on display.

“No, I’m okay.” You say as you get up and make your way to the kitchen to grab a drink.

You didn’t see it, but Eddie’s eyes were roaming your body, as he licked his lips. Yeah, he just had sex with some random girl, but that was only to get his mind off of you, and your annoying, fucking attitude. Eddie would never admit it, but he loved your stupid sassy personality. You didn’t take his shit. Fuck, he wanted you so bad. He starts to wonder if he just blew any chance with you, by having another girl over. Dammit, He definitely did, there’s no way you’d touch him now.

Part two

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sydnikov · 4 months

Text

Carry Me Home || S. Aho

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Sebastian Aho/fem!Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Summary: Sebastian Aho is frustrated with his team’s loss against the New York Islanders. He takes it out on you in a rather primitive way.

Warnings: 18+ smut smut smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it up kiddos!), oral (f receiving), bits of dom!Sepe, breeding kink if you squint, cursing, angst, not much fluff in this one

A/N: Surprise! My first smut fic. I hate myself. I blame the Hurricanes playing like shit for making me write this. As usual, reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated. Enjoy!! I certainly didn’t (kidding) P.S. Title is from “All The Small Things” by Blink 182

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

Sebastian Aho feels fire in his veins. His skin is flushed, hot to the touch, with his hair smoking from sweat-soaked strands boiling into steam. He is a steadily growing inferno, biding his time before unleashing his wrath.

There was no other time in his life he could think of where he had ever felt so frustrated, so angry.

Painful grunts and the sounds of sticks hitting the ice so hard they break echo in his ears, just as the sound of the puck hitting the goal post every time he shot it did, too. In the back of his mind, Sebastian knows that winning takes more than just one player, but yet all he can think is my fault my fault my fault.

He is an alternate captain, after all. It’s his job to help lead his team, to get them the wins they deserve. So ever since the start of this season, why had he been failing to do so?

Sebastian couldn’t dominate the Islanders on his own no matter how much he wanted to… But there is one person he knows he can.

As the Fin aggressively unties his skates, he imagines the strands of your hair tangled in his fingers as the laces get stuck on his glove. As he rips off his undershirt, he imagines doing the same to your bra.

When the reporters ask the same question they do after every game, “What could you have done better?” and pretend not to flinch when he shoots them a glare, he imagines your wide-eyed gaze as he tells you, c’mon, you can take it, yeah?

He kind of wishes he could say the same thing to these fucking reporters as he imagines giving one or two or preferably all of them a black eye—in a different scenario, of course.

Oh, but you are so good to him. He doesn’t deserve you. There is absolutely nothing in this world that can take you away from him, not now and not ever.

The winger speaks to no one except for the coaching staff as he eventually storms out of the locker room, exchanging a few words about practice and something about more line changes before he is finally let go.

Sebastian doesn’t want to think about hockey anymore. He wants to think about you.

Meanwhile, you were planted outside said locker room with a few of the wives and girlfriends, leaning against the wall while you all tried to talk about anything other than the disaster of a game you’d just watched.

It was hard watching the person you love get so upset and disappointed, especially when knowing how much pressure he puts on himself to be a leader of his team. There were many nights laying in bed, his head resting on your chest, that he revealed the bits and pieces of his carefully shielded heart how responsible he feels for his team’s performance.

How every loss chips away at his self-respect, leaving him feeling broken and lost as he struggles to find a way to get his team back on top. He was only one man, yet felt the weight of a thousand suns bearing down on his shoulders, relying on him to score.

And score he tries. Everything he could do he does; he racks up the points, he makes assists, but all his efforts still couldn’t bring them out on top.

You know Sebastian feels worthless, and you aren’t sure how he’s going to express it as you spot him marching up to you.

“Hey,” is your first word to him, spoken softly and carefully before he pulls you into his chest. The first thing you notice is that he feels like a human furnace; the chill you’d become used to after sitting next to an ice rink for over two hours is immediately replaced with warmth, and you can’t help but bury your head into his chest at the feel of it. “I’m sorry, Sepe.”

The pressure he so often feels immediately dissipates at the sound of your voice. Sebastian releases a strained sigh and curls over your body in a protective embrace, his mind racing with millions of words at a million miles per hour but the only ones he can hear are mine mine mine as you look up at him with unbridled affection.

“Kulta,” My honey, he murmurs, wet strands of hair falling over his eyes as he looks down at you. “You’re still here,” he can’t help but say, almost as if he were expecting you to be gone because he didn’t win.

You soften even more if that were possible. “I would never leave you,” you say with conviction, your words meant to be taken innocently yet all Sebastian could think of is the image of you under him as he thrusts into you, making you say the same words over and over again.

“What was that?”

“I can’t—”

“Yes, you can. C’mon, pretty girl, say it for me again,”

His Adam’s apple bobs in his throat. He needs to get you home, immediately.

Lacing his fingers through yours, the Finn presses a heated kiss to your lips, groaning so deep in his chest it has your face flushing a beautiful shade of red which has him thinking truly awful things before the two of you leave the arena.

Sebastian wants nothing more than to take care of you, and thinks briefly that maybe this is a developing unhealthy coping mechanism in the works, but as he opens the car door for you and locks eyes on the way your lips flash him a sweet smile, he can’t find it in himself to care.

You’re just so innocent; it’s in your nature to see the good in everything, to see the good in him despite his less-than holy thoughts. While he doesn’t consider his sex life with you vanilla by any means, he almost feels guilty for all the degrading ways he was thinking of you.

Sebastian was not on top of his game tonight, but he was determined, now, to be on top of you.

Your mind, however, is running rampant in all of the ways you think this night could go, and with Sebastian’s large hand splayed across your thigh as he drives the two of you home, you’re fairly positive in your understanding of what your role is going to be.

It’s funny because you’ve been with him for several years now and he still never fails to get your heart racing. Everything about him has you feeling a certain type of way, especially now as you catch shy peeks of his side profile; clenched jaw, ruffled hair, and blazing eyes…

You can’t help but rub your thighs together, a pleasurable tingle starting low in your belly and spreading warmth throughout the rest of your body as Sebastian gives you a look that spells trouble.

He adjusts the hold he has on your thigh, gripping the flesh just a little bit tighter. “Gonna get you home soon, don’t worry,” he says, almost to himself. It has your eyes widening and your heart beating faster because the tone of his voice is almost feral.

Sebastian is not what you would consider rough in bed. He has his moments, where he uses his strength to flip you over or manhandle you into whatever position he wants, but he’s never been the type to fuck you against a wall or anything of the sorts.

And as dominating as he could sometimes be, his softer side more than made up for it. Sweet but deep kisses to your lips, teeth lovingly nipping marks onto the sides of your breasts, hands roaming all over your body with gentle squeezes and caresses, and a body that seldom ran out of stamina making sure your pleasure always comes before his.

His mouth, however… Sebastian’s mouth is the word ‘dirty’ personified. Sinful lips creating words you’d never want your mother to hear, and a tongue that knew every weak spot on your body to leave you shivering in its wake.

In fact, you couldn’t help but remember the last time his mouth was put to use. Twas the night before, actually, where his body was restless and his solution to getting his energy out was sliding down the length of your body with whispered praises, slipping your panties to the side with his pointer finger, and attaching his lips first thing to your clit—

The sound of your name from the very voice of the man you were just fantasizing about interrupts your thoughts. You quickly turn to find that Sebastian already powered off and exited the vehicle and is holding your door open for you, looking at you with slight concern.

He says your name again when you fail to respond, suddenly starstruck.

Sebastian is just and his arms are so and his lips so full and kissable and him—

The next thing you know, the Finn has wrapped his large hands around your waist and is yanking you out of the car, mouth swooping down to meet your eager lips.

He kisses the life out of you, simultaneously slamming the car door shut so he can press you hard against it. The thought that you have any semblance of control right now slips through your rattled brain not unlike the slickness you can feel dripping down your legs.

He was the epitome of domineering, in no mood to let you think you had any say in what he is going to do to you. Tonight is about him needing a release, and the only way he is going to get it is through you.

Or, rather, by him burying himself so deep inside you you wouldn’t be able to walk for days. The thought has his cock throbbing, unable to resist pressing his hips into the heat between your thighs.

The feeling of his dick against your most sensitive spot has you releasing a breathless whine, and then your kisses become harder against his lips, more desperate.

Sebastian bites at your bottom lip, his own rising into a smirk once he feels rather than hears the resulting gasp catch in your throat. He lets one of his hands rise from the grip he has on your ass to slide carefully around your neck, firmly grasping the front of your throat to bring you closer.

The action has you flat-out whimpering, your hands sinking into the winger’s hair, tugging at the strands so hard he hisses. Now, the Finn is no submissive by any means, but never have you seen him so, so… Dominant.

You decide right then and there that you rather like this side of him.

“Sepe,” you try to speak, but the words catch in your throat again as his kisses move from your lips, past his hand still gripping your throat, and down to the sensitive skin of your collarbone. “—I can’t,”

He hums, your pleas merely background noise as he sucks red marks into your skin. “Can’t what? Gonna have to be more specific, nappula,”

Button. Oh, you are so fucked. Literally. His button. He called you his button. His his his.

Unable to take his slow teasing, you tear him away from your neck to bring him back to your eager lips, a desperate sound crawling up your throat as his hands move to bury themselves in your hair.

“Take me to bed, please,”

Sebastian practically melts at your words. Knowing your desperation, he moves his hands back from your hair down to your thighs, tapping once and then twice where you finally got the memo to jump. He curls your legs over his hips, sliding one hand under your ass with the other pressing supportively against the small of your back.

The five-second walk to the front door has the hand previously holding your back trembling as he fumbles with his keys. Finally opening the door after forcing himself to focus, despite the feeling of your mouth leaving teasing nips and kisses, Sebastian mutters a long string of curses as he hurriedly steps into the house, swiftly kicking the door shut behind him.

“Such a fucking tease,” he rasps into your ear, his free hand grasping onto the back of your neck to bring you back to his lips. He kisses you sensually, reveling in the softness of your body molding perfectly against his. “Bet you’ve been waiting for me all night.”

You nod rapidly in agreement, hands trying to find purchase on the smooth lines of his suit so you could begin tearing it off of him. “I’m always wanting you, Sepe,”

Sebastian hisses another curse, and the next thing you know your back is landing softly on the large mattress that is his bed. He gives you no time to gather your thoughts before he’s climbing on top of you. His calloused hands slip under your shirt to remove it, granting him full access to knead at your tits.

The forward kisses you again, tongue tracing lines across your bottom lip before forcefully pushing his way in. You can feel him everywhere and nowhere all at once, a strangled sound escaping your throat as his hips start grinding into the throbbing heat between your legs.

“Seb,” you try, back arching as his hands skillfully move to unclasp your bra. “Oh fuck, Seb, please,”

The sound of your cries has Sebastian grinning wolfishly, your desperation filling him with a sick sense of pride. “Please what?”

Suddenly, you understand his teammates just a little bit more when they would call him a little shit and other various, foul nicknames in front of you.

Clumsily grabbing one of his hands from where it was still massaging your tit, your legs fall open as you press his palm directly over the material of your pants, almost positive they were wet. “Please just touch me, please—”

Your babbling is interrupted when he begins peppering your face with soothing kisses, apologetically rubbing his thumb over your nipple while the other makes its way under your pants and down to your slit, thoroughly soaked with your arousal.

“This all for me?” he coos as two fingers run through your lips, taking the natural lubricant to rub tight circles over your clit. “You’re soaked, kisu.”

The resulting mewl that escapes you afterwards lives up to the name he just called you. Kitty.

Sebastian watches your reactions with hooded eyes, taking note of the way your breath hitches when he rubs your clit a certain way; he knows the ins and outs of your body by now, but every time you have sex there is still something new to learn, and there is nothing Sebastian is if not eager to learn. He’s particularly fond of the way you arch into him as he sinks two fingers inside you, grinning as you cry out while the calloused pads of his fingertips curl against the spongy wall of nerves nestled near the front of your walls.

With panting breaths and strangled moans, your thighs shake as his thumb finds its way back to your clit and rubs it in circles the same way his fingers are doing inside you. Your stomach feels as if it’s in knots, hands gripping the sheets beneath you so hard they’ve gone numb, and your mind is blissfully blank except for the repetitive thought of more more more.

You echo this sentiment to him, to which he merely picks up the pace in response. It’s almost too much but a good too much, like the peak of your pleasure is just climbing higher and higher, almost impossible to reach but you can feel it right there—

Suddenly, all pleasurable movements stop. You snap your head up, aghast, cheeks flushed with arousal and now irritation because were were so fucking close and now all you’re left with is a disappointed burn between your legs. “Sebastian, what the actual fuck,”

The very man himself licks his lips, looking all too pleased with the way you’re relying on him to help you finish. “Patience,” is all he says, flashing you a shiny smile before skilled hands are sliding the rest of your pants and underwear down your legs. Instinctively your legs try to close at the feel of cold air hitting your pussy, but Sebastian is having none of it as he swiftly pries your thighs back apart.

“Shy?” He teases, stroking your inner thigh before pulling his shirt off his head. You have a reply prepared, but quickly lose your train of thought as his torso is revealed; Sebastian is all hard planes of muscle, golden skin with a light dusting of body hair, and so distinctly male he has you practically drooling as you reach out to trail your hands down his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” you breathe, wrapping your arms around his waist to bring his body down on top of yours. You want, no, need him close to you. While your veins were still full of liquid fire, your nerves so hot that every brush of his skin against yours left you quaking, there is still a certain amount of intimacy that could always be found within your actions towards each other.

A certain intimacy that leads to whispered praises like these; Sebastian flushes, momentarily forgetting the role he vowed to take after the agony that had been wreaking havoc in his mind since his team’s loss. “Kulta,” he says, breath hitching as he presses his lips to your neck to taste the light sheen of sweat covering your skin. He kisses your body like you are his shrine, sworn to you in utter devotion. “Kaunis tyttöni.”

My beautiful girl. Every word from that point onward tumbles past his lips in Finnish, because in what other way can he describe the beauty you encapsulate? You are an angel, after all, his angel, in fact, and his only. With his hands settling on the curves of your waist to further cement his point, he continues his assault on your neck with teeth and tongue all while he grinds his covered dick against your bare pussy.

“Sebastian?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck me, please,”

And just like that, the indescribable need to claim claim claim takes over his body once more. His eyes darken, the lust swallowing his senses moving him to quickly strip the slacks he wore off his legs, and then he reaches into his boxers to pull out his dick.

You could never get over the sight of his cock, you think momentarily as you stare, mesmerized by the flushed head and leaking tip. He took on more girth than length, and to you it’s nothing less than perfect because Sebastian is the only man who has ever gotten you to the point where you’re unable to walk the next day.

Maybe that speaks more of his knowledge of the female anatomy compared to your exes, but nonetheless you’re grateful.

You bite your lip, one of your hands falling from his back to reach down and take his erection in your hand. Sebastian hisses through his teeth at the feeling of you gripping him, and watches for a moment as you stroke him almost gently.

“I’m going to need you to stop that,” he speaks, a groan following right after before he quickly swats your hand away.

You frown, a slight pout on your lips. “Why?”

“Because I’m going to come in two minutes like a teenager if you keep it up, kisu.”

“Well when you say it like that—”

You’re interrupted by Sebastian slamming your lips back together, your words gone just as quickly as they’d come. Oh, how you could kiss him for ages and never be sick of it. You say this to him, or at least attempt to, before his hand not buried in your hair finds its way back down to your clit and rubs rather roughly.

“Want to taste you,” he mumbles, drunk on the sight of you under him as he lines up his dick with your entrance. “Want to taste you so bad. But I need to be inside you first,”

You try to respond, but then Sebastian is kissing you again right as the head of his cock pushes its way into your cunt. It burns, but a good burn because you would never be used to his size and the feel of him sliding deeper sets all your nerve endings on fire. You’re forced to adjust quickly, and something about him not caring if you’re ready or not has you dripping.

“Oh fuck,” you whine, restless hands weaving through his hair and all over his back, refusing to settle. You didn’t know what to do with yourself, too consumed with how good it felt being stretched to lie still beneath him. “Feels so good, Seb,”

“Yeah?” he huffs into your ear, hot breaths against your skin sending shivers down your spine. “God, you’re perfect,” Sebastian groans, his hips suddenly snapping forward. The angle has him hitting the sweet spot inside you perfectly, your walls clamping down tight around him which sends you both spiraling.

You cry out as he begins moving, the strength behind the force of his thrusts staggering because very rarely did he lose control with you. Sebastian tends to treat you like priceless jewelry, but you’re anything but tonight as his teeth sink into your neck to muffle his moans.

His pubic bone rubs against your clit deliciously every time his hips come down, and you couldn’t help but try and tilt your own upwards to match him. Sebastian clearly appreciates your efforts, hissing something that sounds distinctively like a curse.

Past the ringing in your ears, you can hear him muttering to himself. His eyes are squeezed shut against the rolling tides of pleasure coursing through his body, but his mouth is anything but closed. Then his head is lifting suddenly, hair now slick with sweat hanging over his eyes as he looks down at you.

“I need you to come around me,” he says, voice nothing more than a rasp. “Want to feel you squeezing me.”

“Please,” you interrupt, but he either doesn’t hear your plea or chooses to ignore you.

“Then I’m going to taste you, and when you come I’m going to fuck you again.”

Your head is nodding rapidly at his words because there is zero part of you that ever wants him to stop. It was almost primitive the way he was taking you, and you maybe liked it a little more than you should.

Sebastian picks up the pace, and you find yourself thankful - not for the first time - for his insane amount of stamina. The strength conditioning he goes through on a daily basis makes you wonder how he doesn’t just die, but nonetheless you can’t help but appreciate it.

His hands find their way under your back in the midst of your appreciative thoughts, settled on your lower back just above your ass, when he tilts your hips up and his cock strikes the sensitive, spongy spot inside you head-on. It has you keening loudly, uncontrollably—one of your hands previously gripping the sheets jerkily moves to cover your mouth, your own noises embarrassing you.

He doesn’t notice at first, too busy moving his hips in the same pattern as before because he enjoys the way you grip him like a vice, your body’s way of telling him he’s doing a good job, but when he sees you trying to muffle your noises he instantly grows possessive.

Possessive of you, your noises, because in his feral mind everything about you belongs to him and Sebastian doesn’t want you ever holding yourself back. Your name falls from his lips darkly, “You don’t hide yourself from me,” one of his hands drags yours from your mouth, the other splaying across your lower back to keep your body in the same position.

You try to apologize, but your breath escapes you when his hand slides itself down your body, brushing past one of your nipples, then dipping into your navel where his fingers once again find your swollen clit. He rubs quickly, dick ramming into you even faster than before.

Now more than ever Sebastian wants you to come undone beneath him, and soon he gets his wish as the calloused pads of his fingertips roll your clit in time with one, two, and then on the third thrust your entire body seizes.

Tensing, clenching, shuddering—your eyes flutter as your vision goes white, and you feel nothing except for wave after wave of overwhelming pleasure rushing through you. Vaguely, you feel what you think is Sebastian gently continuing his ministrations on your clit in time with slow thrusts, helping you ride out the waves of your orgasm.

Then your eyes are opening after what feels like hours but had really only been minutes of you going still. You tense again, this time with sensitivity rather than pleasure, and he reads your body perfectly as he slides out of you, removing his fingers from your clit at the same time.

You come to a realization then, “Wait, you didn’t come,” you murmur, and Sebastian has a mischievous sparkle in his eye that makes you think he held himself back on purpose. You’re proven right when he suddenly slides down your body, hands prying your thighs apart before settling on your hips, holding you open like his very own buffet.

He lets out a long sound, like he still can’t believe you’re right here in front of him, and then his mouth is meeting the slick folds of your pussy. The timespan between your first orgasm and him now feasting on you has your mind reeling, blissfully going numb as his warm, wet tongue licks into you.

“Sepe,” you whine, having not yet decided if you could handle another orgasm so close to your last. He parrots your name back, the vibrations from his voice rumbling pleasantly. “You can take it,” he coos, hooded eyes watching your face as his lips now fully latch onto your clit. He sucks, steadily picking up the intensity until your thighs are shaking uncontrollably.

He doesn’t stop, not as your cries grow louder and you subconsciously try squirming away from him. He just holds your hips down, anyways. As his tongue joins the mix, dipping down to flick at your nub suctioned in between his lips, one of his hands moves down to dip two fingers into your folds.

Sebastian groans at your wet heat enveloping his digits, already greedy for the feeling of you squeezing his dick again. Then he starts thrusting his finger, timing it with the flicks of his tongue, and then you’re coming all over again. “There you go, such a good girl for me,” he praises as your pussy spasms, eagerly lapping up your juices like you’re his favorite meal.

Oh god. You are officially fucked-out. You definitely have a bad case of sex-for-brains. You can’t think beyond the sensitivity of your overwhelmed nether regions, and yet as Sebastian crawls up your body for the third time you can’t help but have your legs fall open to welcome him.

This is new for him, too. Sebastian’s endurance is extraordinary, yes, but he never really let himself use it to his full extent with you. Now, though? He wants to explore the thrill of dominance, of controlling you when everything else in his life slips through his fingers.

Against his will, he thinks of his team for a moment. It’s still too raw of a feeling, he finds, hating the way disappointment and frustration bubbles up inside him. Sebastian swallows roughly, squeezes his eyes shut as if that would help block out the sound of the final buzzer ringing in his ears, and then kisses you to distract himself.

As he lines himself back up with your entrance, you both find that the energized tension between you has cooled significantly. Sebastian is less restless and jerky with his movements, and your desperation has cooled as your legs wrap around his waist. He whimpers into your neck, then, his arms curling under your back to press your bodies even closer together.

Your roles switch, and you whisper sweet and dirty nothings into Sebastian’s ear as his hips roll into you. The head of his cock scratches that delicious part inside of you, and soon your words turn into gasps which are music to his ears. One thrust has you squeezing him particularly hard, and his rhythm stutters. “Fuck, you feel amazing,”

His lips form into an o-shape, and suddenly he finds that his high is coming (hah) much quicker than expected. He expresses such, or thinks he does, because all you do is moan in response when his thrusts pick up speed.

He wants to send you into your third orgasm before letting go himself, and even though Sebastian has been rather selfish tonight, one thing that would never change is that your pleasure would always come before his—no matter what.

“Gonna come for me?” Sebastian teases, lips managing to curl into a brief smirk before you’re squeezing him again, wiping it right off his face. “Yeah? Look so pretty taking my cock, baby,”

“I’m close,”

“I know. Let go for me.”

And let go you do. You seize up, not for the first time tonight, before shuddering with full force in the wake of your third release. Your vision goes white in time with the ringing of your ears as you’re consumed in it, feeling too much but also not enough at the same time because your boyfriend is a force you could never get sick of.

Your walls are squeezing Sebastian like a vice, and it only takes him a few more thrusts as you ride out your orgasm before he’s falling into his own. He groans from deep in his chest, arms shakily moving to rest on either side of your head as he buries his own in your neck.

He sinks his teeth into your shoulder as his dick pulses inside you, pumping you full of his cum while you shudder beneath him. It fills Sebastian with a primal sense of satisfaction, knowing he’s claimed you from the inside out.

You’re his, still repeats itself in his mind on repeat, until both of your bodies are spent and he’s rolling off of you exhaustedly. You’re still panting when he turns to look at you, and without hesitation he pulls you into his chest so you can rest your tired body against his.

It takes you a few minutes until you can muster the energy to move, and when you do it’s to tilt your head up to look up at him. You murmur his name, quietly, lest you disturb the fragile peace the two of you find yourselves in. “Sepe?”

“Mhmm?”

“Do you feel better?” It’s a loaded question, you both know, and he takes a few minutes to think about it.

Sebastian’s body feels better, yes. It’s limp, relaxed, the achy tension long-gone from his muscles. The moment he first sank into you he felt immensely better, actually, now that he thinks about it.

His mind, however, is a completely different story.

Colors of red, orange, and blue flash behind his eyes; the colors of his jersey and the opposing team’s, with the haunting sound of the final buzzer still playing in his memory. He thinks of the anger, of his teammates’ faces as they marched defeatedly into the locker room.

No, he thinks with sudden clarity. No, he doesn’t feel better. Sebastian doesn’t say this though; it probably isn’t the answer you want to hear, considering how you explored a new aspect of your relationship tonight.

You know, though. You always know—Sebastian is your better half, and you can understand him more than your own self sometimes, now being one of those moments.

“I love you,” you say after several minutes of silence. Your declaration - the first of the night, he suddenly realizes - says everything he needs to know, about how you feel for him and that he has your support no matter what.

Sebastian swallows, finding that his throat is parched. Lying naked under the sheets, vulnerable and oh-so-exposed, he lowers his head to kiss you sweetly. You mold together softly, and a low rumble can be felt from his chest as you gently nip at his bottom lip.

He is a man of few words, preferring to show his feelings with actions rather than words and this just happened to be one of those moments. He loves you so much, more than words can describe, his lips say, before they gently part from yours.

You admire him in his full glory before he opens his mouth to speak. His hair is incredibly ruffled, from both your hands and the game he played, his full lips swollen red from your kisses, and his eyes have a light sheen to him that suggest he’s more emotional than letting on.

Sebastian raises a hand to your cheek, large yet gentle palm caressing the soft skin as he gazes at you like you’re precious porcelain. “I love you,”

Your lips break into a small smile, and then you’re curling farther into his chest. You’re far too comfortable to move, figuring aftercare in the bathtub can come later. For now, you’re content; your body is sated, and with his cum dripping down your legs you’ve never felt so full with love.

Sebastian knows he has hell to face tomorrow morning. He knows it, but doesn’t really care. For now, in the peaceful silence of his room with only the gentle sounds of your breaths to keep him company, he chooses to forget.

He’s only one man, after all. He can’t carry his team, but he can carry you.

A/N: This is the first time I've written in present tense, which was actually a lot harder than I thought because I kept using past tense action verbs 💀 it was a fun challenge though!! Hopefully my parents never ask me what exactly it is that I write about because. Uh. Yeah. Once again, please reblog and comment :))

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valeskafics · 10 months

Text

"Just Go With It" - Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Best Friend!Reader - Chapter Three

a/n: catch up on this fic HERE - comment if you want to be on the taglist ❤️

Summary: The first afternoon and evening of your vacation has more than one surprise.

TW: profanity, innuendo, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, reader is a single mom, fluff

Word Count: 2,365 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon/Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

When the time comes to head to your hotel room, you realize with no small degree of horror that Aegon will be staying in your suite to carry on the pretense of the two of you being in a relationship, especially when he rests his hand on the small of your back during the elevator ride up, “So, baby, I was thinking after we put the kiddos to bed, Mommy and Daddy can have a little fun of their own-”

Glancing over at Floris and her father to make sure they’re too busy speaking to Aemond to hear you, you give Aegon the deadliest glare you think you’ve ever given to another human being, pointing your finger in his face, “You are gonna sleep on the floor or in the bathtub, you little perv. Do you understand that? You are not sleeping in the same bed as me and we are not Mommy and Daddy,” you hiss.

Aegon pouts at you slightly, hands resting on your hips which you immediately slap away, “Baaaby, come on-”

If you’d been looking Aemond’s away, you might have noticed the way his lips pursed at the affectionate way Aegon is acting with you, alas, you’re too busy yelling at his idiot brother. Vaegon and Saera, however? They notice. They most certainly notice Aemond’s discomfort and exchange devious little grins, a plan formulating in their evil little minds.

“So,” Floris says, clapping her hands together, getting everyone’s attention, “We’re thinking we can all meet up at the hotel restaurant around half past seven for dinner?”

“Yeah, that should be perfectly fine. It’ll give the kids time to take a nap,” you nod, giving her a polite smile, one she returns.

Aemond, however, turns to Floris, frowning slightly, “The kids usually eat around six, it might be a little late-”

“Aem,” you fix him with an amused look, “It’s fine. They’re on vacation. They can eat a little late.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Saera says, arms crossed as she stares up at the blonde, completely unintimidated by him unlike so many others, “We’re on vacation.”

“That means we can do whatever we want,” Vaegon grins, “Ooooh, I’m gonna eat so many chicken fingers, so many that I throw up-”

“You most certainly are not!” you and Aemond chime in unison, both giving the young boy vaguely threatening looks.

“Wow,” Floris sighs almost dreamily, smiling as she draws your attention yet again, “You two are so great at co-parenting,” she turns and slaps her father on the shoulder, “Gods, Dad, why couldn’t you and Mom have been like this after the divorce? Look at them!”

You laugh awkwardly, “Oh, you know, it’s no big deal. After doing the whole song and dance this long and all you get used to it,” the elevator dings, signifying that it’s time for you, Aegon, and the kids to get off, “See you all at dinner-”

“Wait up,” Aemond says, following you out, glancing back at Floris apologetically, “I’ll be up to the room soon, Flo, just need to talk a few things over with the family.”

“Take your time,” she titters, leaning in to press a kiss to Aemond’s cheek, one that has your gut feeling like someone’s twisting a knife in it for some reason you can’t even begin to understand - it’s Aemond, the whole reason you’re even here is to help him get with this girl, why do you feel so bothered by her kissing him on the cheek?

The five of you head to the room and, immediately, your twins begin ragging on Aemond, Saera taking the lead, “Your girlfriend is named after the Progressive girl?”

“I thought she’s named after Aunt Flo, you know, what Mommy gets every month-”

“Vaegon!” you hiss, glaring at your best friend’s brother who’s flopped down onto one of the beds and started laughing hysterically at your annoyance, “And you! Shut up!”

“Come over here and make me, Mommy,” he snickers, making a kissy face at you.

You’re less than a few hours into this vacation from hell and you already want to tear your hair out. You pinch the bridge of your nose in annoyance, kicking off your high heels before turning to Aemond, who’s already looking at you, “I’m now stuck with not two, but three children to look after in this room. I hope you’re very fucking happy with yourself, Aemond Targaryen-”

“SWEAR JAR-” Saera shrieks, causing you to turn and fix her with a look that has her going quiet within a millisecond.

“Okay, if we’re going to keep this charade up, we need to establish a backstory so this is all convincing,” you state, “This is all to help Aemond get with,” you snort slightly at the next word, “Flo.”

You, the twins, and Aegon burst into laughter, leaving Aemond frowning, “I thought it was a cute nickname.”

“No, no, it is,” you say, biting the inside of your cheek before adding, “For a tampon.”

Aegon buries his face in his pillow, nearly howling with laughter, while Aemond gives you an unimpressed look, “Very mature.”

“Thanks, I try,” you wink, not noticing the slight flush to his cheeks as you do so before checking the time, “Okay, it’s four, so I’m gonna put the kids down for a nap and we’ll meet you at the restaurant. As far as the backstory,” you glance at him over your shoulder as you begin opening your suitcase, “Why did we get divorced? Have you given her a reason?”

“Uh, you know. We just divorced,” Aemond clears his throat, “It just happens sometimes. Divorce, I mean.”

“Right,” you look at him dubiously before shaking your head, “Anway, you know to call the restaurant-”

“And make sure there’s an allergen friendly menu for Vaegon,” he nods, resting a hand on your shoulder, squeezing gently and giving you a soft smile, “I’m not a total idiot, Y/N, have a little faith in me, hm?”

“You make it kinda difficult for us to have faith in you considering this whole vacation is based on a lie, Dad,” Saera calls out, busy grabbing a pair of pajamas out of her suitcase to put on for her nap; Aemond gives Saera an incredulous look, shaking his head, to which she replies, “In my acting class, we have a saying for improv. Just go with it. Just don’t say ‘no’ ever and go with whatever info you’re given.”

“Okay, that’s smart actually, well done,” Aemond nods.

Vaegon is already down for the count, sleeping in the bed that he’ll be sharing with Aegon, and it appears your best friend’s brother is also similarly tuckered out and needs a nap. The idea of Aegon wanting to nap doesn’t exactly surprise you and you find it somewhat adorable the way Vaegon is cuddled up to him, the two of them already snoring away.

“So, what are you gonna do?” Aemond asks quietly as Saera heads toward the bathroom to change for her own nap, “Are you taking a nap too or…”

“Or what, Aemond?” you raise an eyebrow, “Shouldn’t you be getting back to Flo?”

He nods slowly, “Yeah, you’re right. Um, I’ll see you at dinner then, yeah?”

You nod, waving as he leaves the room, your heart sinking slightly. Little do you know, Aemond’s feet feel heavier with every step they take toward Floris and away from you. He shakes it off and presses the button for the elevator. He should be happy. Everything is going according to his plan - right?

When you head down for dinner that evening with Aegon and the twins, Aemond is yet again floored by how gorgeous you look, even though he saw every single article of clothing you bought. They just look so much better on you. You’re wearing a Missoni dress with a colorful pattern on it that clings to your curves and a pair of golden Jimmy Choo sandals, perfect for a vacation in Dorne. He swallows thickly and attempts to refocus on his conversation with Floris, but she seems more interested in getting answers out of you and your “boyfriend”.

“So, Y/N,” Floris smiles, “Aemond gave me his version of events, but I’d like to hear yours as well.”

You turn to Aemond, who is seated between you and Floris, smirking at him slightly, “And what exactly was my darling ex hubby’s version of events, Floris?”

“That you were um,” she pauses awkwardly, lowering her voice, “Unfaithful.”

You narrow your eyes at your best friend, who slides down slightly in his seat at your glare before a wicked grin forms on your face, “Well, Floris, dear, you see, it’s quite difficult not to be unfaithful when you have this hunk of a man as a brother-in-law,” you wink at her wrapping an arm around Aegon, who seems entirely surprised but completely thrilled at this sudden display of affection, “Aemond worked so many late nights, and Aegon was there to wipe away my tears, being caught in a neglectful, loveless marriage-”

“It wasn’t loveless!” Aemond protests, defending your fake marriage with a vehemence that nearly causes you to burst into laughter, “I was busy with law school-”

“And she was busy raising your children,” Aegon shakes his head at Aemond, clicking his tongue before turning to Floris, “So, you see, Floris, I’m not the stepdad,” he states in a somber voice that has you and Aemond looking at each other, rolling your eyes, “I’m the dad that stepped up.”

“How did you two meet?” Floris asks excitedly, ignoring any sounds of protest that come from Aemond at her line of questioning.

“Well, the kiddos might wanna cover their ears for this, but she answered the door wearing this sexy little robe and was all ‘Oh, hi brother-in-law, I’m so lonely and bored’ and then she dropped the robe and there was nothing-”

You give Aegon a sharp glare, any affection you had for him completely gone as you snap, “Can you stop talking?”

“We shouldn’t have to hide our love,” Aegon declares boldly.

“Aemond,” you turn to your best friend, “Can I speak to you in private?!”

“Mhm,” he nods, sliding out of his seat and following you to the other side of the restaurant.

Not for the first time, you notice how attractive your best friend is, his hair pulled back off his face in a bun, the golden hour glow illuminating his sharp cheekbones, his prominent jaw, his nose, his strong chin, those eyes, one of which is slightly clouded over in a way you’ve always informed him is absolutely beautiful and adds to his looks rather than taking away from them. He’s wearing a linen button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal his muscular forearms, a few buttons open showing off his chest, not that you’re looking or anything.

“Aemond,” you say, finally getting your bearings, “I have had it with all the bullshit on this vacation, you said I cheated on you?! And now Aegon is doing all of this?! I am this fucking close to exposing you, packing my kids’ shit, and heading back home-”

“Love, please,” he pleads, grabbing your hand, “I promise, I’ll get Aegon to calm down. I need your help, don’t do this to me-”

“Y/N Y/L/N?! Is that you?!”

You freeze in place at the sound of the familiar voice and turn slowly, feeling as though this is an episode of “Punk’d” and the universe is totally screwing with you right now. You see the one and only Sara Snow, your old nemesis from high school, who ended up stealing your boyfriend, Jace, and actually marrying the man. He stands at her side, looking as though he’s seen a ghost when he sees you. You wave at them awkwardly.

“That’s… Oh my gods, is that Sara?” Aemond murmurs in your ear, “What the fuck is she doing here?”

“She’s clearly on vacation,” you hiss, walking over to greet her with a kiss on the cheek, “Sara, darling!”

You greet Jace with a kiss on the cheek as Sara replies, “I didn’t know you vacationed at places like this, darling,” and there she goes with the subtle put-downs, “Oh, I ran into Ceryse Lannister the other day! Divorced with two kids! Isn’t that just awful? Do you have any kids?” she asks, clearly expecting that you’re in a similar situation, which you are, you just have no intention of telling her.

“Actually, I have two. With my husband. Aemond. You remember him, I’m sure.”

Aemond’s eye goes wide as you walk over to him, dragging him toward Sara and Jace. You rest a hand on his chest in a false display of affection (well, perhaps not entirely false…) and smirk at Jace and Sara who look absolutely shocked at this revelation. You lean your head against Aemond’s chest, pleasantly surprised when he immediately plays along with your ruse and wraps an arm around you.

“Nice to see you both,” he says politely, “Now, we’re going to get back to the kids. Vaegon and Saera will be missing us.”

“You named your daughter after me?!” Sara squeals.

Aemond quickly corrects her, “No. Not S-A-R-A. Saera. It’s an old Valyrian name. Since her father is Valyrian.”

You smile at Aemond softly, which he returns, while Sara continues rambling, “Well, we need to do dinner. Monday night. No excuses, understood?”

You laugh awkwardly, “Um, you know, maybe if we can pull ourselves out of the bedroom” you say, smacking Aemond on the ass, making him stare at you incredulously, his cheeks flushing a bright pink, “But, um, we’ll figure something out! Bye, Sara!”

You and Aemond walk away, and he smirks at you, throwing your earlier words back in your face, “I have had it with your bullshit on this vacation-”

“Shut up,” you groan, burying your face in your hands, “I panicked.”

“Hey,” he pulls you into a hug, “Relax. We’ve got this. Don’t worry. I have your back.”

You smile up at him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before returning to the table.

Aemond can feel the soft touch of your lips, their warmth, long after you’ve moved away.

#aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond x you #aemond fic #aemond x fem!reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #modern!aemond #modern!aemond x reader #modern!aemond targaryen #modern!aemond targaryen x reader #modern!aemond targaryen x you #modern!aemond x you #prince aemond #prince aemond targaryen #prince aemond x reader #my writing #just go with it fic

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 months

Note

AITA for snapping and scaring a kid?

Okay first, some background, I (F20) am a sorta bnf in a fandom I write and draw for and I am a group of roughly 10 other kinda bnfs who do the same and are all 20+.

We all reblog from each other and support each other, and one unique thing we also do is block minors who are open about being minors that we see anywhere and/or that interact with us.

We DM each other their usernames to weed them out of circle even though all of accounts are PG and do not have and dnis or warnings that minors will be blocked. We don't let anyone know we do this, make no posts about it, no warnings, they just get blocked without any exchange.

There's a few reasons why we do this:

to encourage kids to not let their age be publicly know.

to make sure kids are not getting normalized to interacting with strange adults online

kids, to put it kindly, are fucking lame once you become a certain age through no fault of their own. There's nothing in common after a while. They don't understand adult life and can't relate in the same way another adult can, and this is just no good reason for an unrelated strange adult online to let a kid interact with them that's sketchy and weird as shit

I grew up lurking and with strict internet safety lessons. Nowadays, kids seem to not know how to lurk and basic internet safety anymore. I've tried to make post upon post warning them of the dangers of putting personal information, especially their age, online, but it's done nothing to make the minors interacting to act more safely.

But me and my friend group have found that the only way to get kids to lurk and not put their age online like they should is if they get loose access the things they want because of their age is public.

So many of the kids who follow me have been blocked and they realized why they're getting blocked and came back on a much safer lurker account. I know I'm not the asshole for doing this and encouraging others to do this because ultimately it keeps the kid safer.

What I do think I may be the asshole is when one kid in particular, I'll call him X, spent months testing me to figure out and confirm that I was blocking minors who are open about their age and then spent weeks after that threatening to call me out and accused me of being agist, a pedophile because why am I so scared to interact with kids, and lying about being cis-queer because queers wouldn't discriminate like this.

At first he was was just the usual kiddo with his age in his bio, so I blocked him, and while I didn't notice it at first, he kept making more accounts with his age in the bio and following me. I caught on when I was curious about why do many 14 years olds were following me in a row because normally is varied from around 10 to 17, and I noticed similarities across the account and realized it was one kid desperately trying to following me.

I figured I just keep blocking until he figured out how to keep his age offline, and it seemed to work when I got followed by an identical account with the age missing from any posts and the bio. I let him keep following, not interacting because he's 14 and that'd be fucking weird, but then a week into following me on this new ageless account I got a DM.

It was full of screenshots of me blocking him on he openly a minor accounts and then him just accusing of what I said above. I blocked, not caring to respond to a 14 year old, but he keep making burners to DM more and more accusation.

I just kept blocking without responding, not wanting to waste my time, but then he treatened to call me out for being all those things. I've seen first hand how life ruining those accusation and false callouts can be, how people see those accusations and do no research and let their instinctual disgust and fear of those people drive the accused to going offline or even committing suicide.

I did not want this, and the fact that this may become a possibility due to a kid who just couldn't accept not everyone wants known minors following them, made me super pissed off.

And so to "scare him straight" and to prevent him from making this callout post, I photoshopped screenshots of both a police and cyperbulling report being submitted and police thanking me for reporting this and how they'll check it out.

At the time, still being super angry, it was very satisfying to see him come apologizing, saying he'll stop stalking me, and asking for me to tell the police and cyberbulling that it was a fake report and that it's been handled.

I didn't bother responding and just blocked him, and this time, he didn't make another burner. In fact, he deleted all his accounts.

A few months have past, and now that my anger has melted into annoyance, and that annoyance into realization I may have went too far.

X, while annoying, and could have really hurt me with a fake callout, is at the end of the day, 14, still a little kid.

X probably just didn't know better and I could have just tried to talk to him and reason rather then scaring him. I feel especially bad because if he was a POC and/or an abuse victim still living with his abusers he may have and possibility still be fearing for his life. Also it made me look like a bootlicker and I would kill myself before I ever support a cop

So I'm wondering now if I may have been the asshole here for snapping and scaring a kid

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #suicide cw

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imfinereallyy · 10 months

Text

@henderdads posted this about domestic fluff and I realize that I love this trope and I just don’t write enough of it, and I wanted to give her a little treat to read. Mostly because her tags when she reblogs on my post give me absolute joy, I laugh every time.

Two things might come as a surprise when getting to know Steve Harrington. The first being he didn’t actually like parties. He likes making other people feel good, wants to make them happy. Hence why for years, he lets Tommy and Carol wreak havoc on his house. It makes them happy and, for a short while, makes most of Hawkins High happy. Steve, in retrospect, has learned to regret this since he has now gained a reputation for being a party king, despite not throwing one in years, but he knows all too well how hard it is to let go of a high school reputation.

The second surprising fact is that Steve Harrington hated his birthday. Well, maybe hate wasn’t the right word, but he has incredibly low expectations for his birthday. Either everyone forgets his birthday, or somehow Steve is reminded that he is an inconvenience.

“Sorry sweetie, your dad has a business meeting that day.”

“Dude, I have a baseball game in that night could we do something another day?”

“I’m late! I know, we stayed up all night playing D&D. I even forgot to call Suzie!”

Steve isn’t necessarily hurt per se when these things happen. He knows that some people, more than others, are really trying. That it’s human to make mistakes. But Steve doesn’t like to get his hopes up; that’ll be much better than that.

There is also the more commonly now known fact that Steve doesn’t like being the center of attention. And birthdays come along with a lot of that. Sure, Steve wants someone to pay attention to him, really listen to what he has to say, but he has long since out grown the desperate need to have everyone look at him.

It is why it is such a surprise the upside down crew throws him a 24th birthday party.

Steve always thought something like this would upset him, but he is delightfully warm at the sight of all his friends, all of his family, inside Robin and Nancy's apartment screaming,

“Surprise, Dingus!”

Steve can’t believe she got everyone to say that.

After the shock of seeing them all packed like sardines wearing party hats, Steve can’t help but smile.

Eddie walks up to him, placing a hat on his head and a soft kiss on his cheek. “I tried to stop them,” Eddie whispers. “I know you don’t like parties, but they just wanted to show how much they love you. It was hard to say no.”

Steve turns to Eddie, a man who knows him inside and out and knows he can’t lie to him. “I thought I would hate this, but I don’t. It’s perfect.” He kisses Eddie on the lips, just as soft as the one before.

“Good, because I really didn’t try to stop them.” Eddie smiles into the kiss.

“Ew!”

“Gross!”

“Get a room!”

Various shouts across the room cause the couple to giggle and pull apart. Eddie flips them all off, “It’s been four years, assholes! Grow up.”

Eddie runs off to particularly chase Mike, who actually hasn’t said anything but did make a face, and Steve can’t help but be overwhelmed by joy.

🎉🦇🎉🦇

Hours later, after the cake has been cut and the presents have been shared, and his kiddos are definitely way too drunk, the party doesn’t show any signs of slowing down. And Steve, who is having fun but growing antsy since he slowed down on drinking years ago, isn’t quite sure what to do with himself.

He doesn’t want to ruin the fun or make anyone think he didn’t have a good time. This is one of the best birthdays, if not the best one, he’s ever had. But Steve is getting overwhelmed and worn out. He isn’t really tired, but being social has reached its capacity for the night.

Even so, he can’t help but laugh at Robin as she tells a story about the most recent disaster of her sign language class, where kids keep accidentally swearing instead of the proper words.

Eddie catches his eye across the room; he looks happy as he talks to Hop and Wayne. But even mid-conversation, across the sea of people, he tugs his helix piercing over his right ear twice.

It’s their signal for, “Do you want me to come over?”

Steve rubs the scar over his left eye twice, “Yes please.” It means.

Eddie excuses himself and makes his way to Steve. “Hey, baby.” He interrupts Robin mid-rant, who makes a sound of drunken protest. “Did we feed Mrs. Pierson’s cat today?”

Another signal, which translates, “Do you want to go home?”

And Steve knows he can just tell Eddie yes, and they can stay at the party, and Steve will have fun, and he’ll be happy, but it isn’t what he wants. What he wants is to be at home with their own cat Beelzebub, snuggled up in their bed. So Steve says, “Shit, I don’t think we did.” Yes, please. Let’s go home.

Eddie acts quickly. They make their rounds, say goodbyes, and make their excuses. Everyone lovingly pokes at their forgetfulness. The couple insists everyone stays and enjoys themselves. Steve thanks everyone with individual hugs.

Steve and Eddie hold pinkies the entire walk home, down the streets of Indianapolis. The dark night blanket of night, and the never-ending sound of the city, keeping them safe enough to risk the intertwined digits.

When they make it home, they say nothing. They unwind slowly. Sharing kisses, delicately take off each other's clothes, hum into each others mouths. There is nothing rushed, or rough; they have time now. There will be moments for that later.

And in their journey from the front door to the bed, Eddie kisses the place where Steve’s shoulder and neck meet. It’s his signal for “I love you.”

Later, when they are tangled up in the sheets, heavy breaths slowing down, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him, Steve leans up and kisses the tip of Eddie’s nose. It’s his signal for “I love you more.”

Eddie’s smile back says, “that just isn’t possible.”

“Thank you for today.” Steve finally speaks out loud, playing with Eddie’s fingers.

“Oh, it isn’t over yet, baby.” And Eddie jumps out of bed naked, running out of the room.

Steve can’t help but cackle at his boyfriend's antics. There is a sudden thump on the bed; Steve peeks down to see their cat making his home on the end of their bed like he knows they are finally done for the night. “Hey, bee.” Steve scratches him behind his ear, earning a resounding purr from him. A little to the left, it means.

Eddie comes back into the room and dives back into the bed, bouncing Beelzebub but not startlingly him enough to move. Steve supposes he’s used to his father's antics. “Okay, I would tell you to close your eyes, but I know you’re not going to listen, so I’m just going to hand them to you.”

Steve giggles and grabs the pieces of paper in his hands and his heart stops. “Eddie.”

“Steve.” Eddie’s grin is wide.

“These are three tickets to see Madonna.”

“Yup.” Eddie pops his ‘p’ clearly proud of himself. “One for you, one for Robs of course, and one for me.”

Steve whispers in awe, “But you hate Madonna.”

Eddie brushes the hair out of Steve’s face, “Please, no one can hate Madonna.” Eddie’s eyes turn soft, “Besides, you love her, and you love me. It only felt fair to have us both in the same place. And you’d worry the entire time if I wasn’t there.”

Steve throws his arms around Eddie, squeezing him tight. Hoping he can translate how much he loves this man through it. Steve loves making other people happy, but no one has loved making Steve happy, quite like Eddie. “I love you so much,” Steve says once he leans back.

Eddie kisses the place where his shoulder and his neck meet. I love you. Eddie kisses the tip of his nose. I love you more. Finally, he holds Steve’s face and says aloud,

“I love you too.”

***

Was this perhaps inspired by the fact I turn 24 in a week and a half? Maybeee. I’m a lot like Steve in this where I have such mixed feelings about my birthday. I’m feeling a lot of anxiety about it if I’m honest, and I don’t have high hopes.

Unlike me, I don’t have a partner like Eddie, but Steve deserves the world and I wanted him to have some loving and domestic fluff. The idea that these two have secret signals is an important headcannon to me, and I would love to see others take on it.

I hope @henderdads you enjoyed this if you made it this far. It was a lot of fun to write. :)

#steddie #giving these boys the fluff they deserve #they have secret signals for everything #especially a ‘can you believe this guy’ one #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #birthday blues #stranger things #domestic fluff #happy ending #my writing #platonic stobin #Robin Buckley

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dev1lm4n · 9 months

Text

lesson two: tease

ko-fi | series masterlist (5 out of 7)

pairing: porn star!joel miller x f!reader

summary: tension is on the rise between you and mr. miller. wicked fantasies hadn't posted for an entire month! desperate, you decided to get even more bold with your requests and he had no difficulty in complying.

word count: 4.8k

warnings: explicit (18+), set in 2013, pre-outbreak, age gap (joel in mid 30's and reader in early 20's), inexperienced but not dumb reader, blowjob, f masturbation, check umbrella warning on series masterlist

notes: tension is literally on the rise! the vase is about to crack, but tonight he decides to indulge. fellas if you enjoyed this do COMMENT, REBLOG or buy me a KO-FI ;) love y'all

Broad shoulders.

During the time when you simply saw Mr. Miller as a figure in your lewd fantasies, you knew that it was the roughness of his build that attracted you. There’s a certain market for it; for women and men alike who enjoyed those who're built like burly vikings straight out of a movie. Those who enjoy men with a slight plumpness on their front, those who salivate over their strong and reliable arms, those who strive to caress their calloused fingers and press kisses onto their rigid knuckles. You’ve never confessed this to anyone - mostly terrified for their reserved judgment over the topic - but you fit perfectly in that box. Time after time, you wonder if it’d feel nice, if you could just press your nifty fingers into the coils of his muscles, if he’d let out a groan.. a moan perhaps from the sensation.

Rough fingers.

After spending two minutes staring intensely at his sturdy, slightly hunched build, you finally gathered enough courage to summon yourself into the kitchen. God, he looked so good just washing the dishes. His already calloused fingers didn’t have to worry about the damage those cheap dish soap does, because if anything, it’d just make it better. More ridges means more texture and more texture feels better. Two of his fingers entered the soapy lining of his mug, spreading the cleaning product into every crack and crevice. It looks a little erotic, you decided. Your filthy mind conjured up altered scenarios which implemented the same motion. You’d be on top of the cold countertop, various kitchen gadgets set aside as his fingers delved into your cunt. He’d spread your wetness the same way he did to the mug.

Thick mustache.

He took notice of your presence. He watched you and you allowed him, even if he did so wordlessly. Water continued to spill out of the faucet. It hit the empty bottom of the sink and sprouted upwards in a gauche manner, effectively wetting his gray shirt in blotches and dots. You breathed out what could pass as a dry chuckle and in return, he quirked his lips. A grin. A youthful one that almost made you forget of his crow’s feet and faint lines. His thin upper lip almost disappeared as it was tugged on both sides, but the dark hair on top remained pristine. It was thick, you concluded. Not as thick as Uncle Tommy’s, but thick enough that he’d get marinara sauce on it every pasta night. Thick enough that you wonder what it’d be like to have it graze your sensitive pelvis.

Fuck, he’s hot and you’re unreasonably horny.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo,” he parroted back, only with the help of that damned nickname he’s stamped onto you.

Crunch

You bit into the red apple you found during your little scavenging trip into his refrigerator. The sound broke whatever trance he had placed you under. With those eyes of yours, pupils rounded and lashes batted, it was a dangerous game you’re playing. When had you gotten so shameless towards Mr. Miller? Perhaps it’s when he touched you in an irrevocably pleasurable way, or perhaps it’s when he hadn’t posted a video for an entire month. He missed his posting schedule, two whole weeks post-’Dirty Fridays’, and it’s severely messing with your head. You’ve always been a good viewer. Always being content with what he had put out and would never harass him for more, but it’s been a long month repeating the same 13 minute long video.

You’re bound to get restless.

“Didn’t see you come home yesterday.”

“I was busy.”

Crunch

With other girls? In that trailer studio of yours? The question sat on the tip of your tongue. A breath away from being exposed into the dense air. You turned to lean your lower back onto the edge of the countertop, eyes still trained on his as you hitched yourself atop the smooth surface. Your fingers grazed the squared edges, just to keep you occupied while you dug under the surface of his browns. You wondered what he was so busy with - wondered what’s going on behind the tightly knitted cloak of guise he wore, wondered what he thought of you after his little lesson. He wasn’t a shy one. Mr. Miller stared back into your pupils. His chest raised and lowered with every blink he took.

You swallowed nervously.

“Workin’ doubles,” he cracked. “I ain’t sharin’ the job with anyone other than Tommy.”

“Is that so?”

“You think I’m lyin’?”

Crunch

You couldn’t read him. You’ve never been able to. There’s just a huge boulder sitting behind those irises, one that’s blocking you from understanding him even further. It’s not like it’s your business anyway. You’re content with spending your downtime with Sarah; screaming your hearts out to Taylor Swift’s I Knew You Were Trouble on the radio, painting each others’ nails, and making the ultimate pancake with chicken. You’re content with just watching him through his videos, reimagining those situations with the new knowledge you’ve acquired from him. You’re content with standing at a distance from him. So, it wouldn’t be logical to get all protective over him. What are you? His crazy ex-girlfriend?

“How’s Sarah?”

“Great,” you mumbled, mouth still half full. “Taught her fractions yesterday. Swear she’s getting smarter than me.”

“How’s Simon?”

Crunch

Things with Simon, surprisingly, went on smoothly. After that mediocre dinner, where you proceed to let Mr. Miller finger you afterwards in order to introduce you to the new world of sex, you’ve exchanged a few messages and a few perfectly appropriate photos. It’s been awhile since you actually put any effort into trying to get into a relationship, due to work loads and a special dependance towards a pornstar, but it’s much better than you expected. He’s a nice boy. He would treat you right if you gave him the chance to, but you couldn’t help but think that you’re doing all this out of spite. Doing this to show off how capable you are to Mr. Miller, to busy yourself off those plaguing thoughts of him.

“Simon’s doing okay. Fine. He took me for ice cream after my classes yesterday.”

“Offered you a ride, right?”

“Yup.”

He taught you well.

“You’ve done it with him then?”

Your heart clenched.

“Done what?”

“What I taught you.”

Why is he so candid about the entire ordeal?

It was like being held at gunpoint. You watched his eyes, then found it to be too oppressive so you looked down to meet his wet hands. He had finished washing all the plates and cutleries from the breakfast you and Sarah made, though his thick fingers still gripped onto the edge of the metal sink, wet and dripping. You looked up once again, trying to find a part of him that doesn’t make you all jittery and awkward.

“Yes.”

Your lie must’ve been undetectable since you quickly caught on to how his brows tangled and unraveled, a habit of his you’ve picked up recently, signaling that he’s processing the information and giving it a good thought.

“Was it as good?”

Crunch

You nodded surely with a mouthful of tangy apple. There’s no way you could get away with lying so blatantly the second time so you decide the nod would affirm your position better instead of scramble it. He cocked his head to the side, arrogant as always, with some sort of interest in his eyes. You could just tell something foul was about to come out of those sharp tongue of his, when all of a sudden, a clatter sounded out from beyond the window. Both of you turned your heads in sync, following after where the presumable source was. There he was. Tommy in all of his youthful glory. One of his jean legs drenched and beside him was a metal bucket, laying pitifully with its contents poured out onto the sidewalk. He was cursing. A garbled mess of English, while he soothed his pained arse.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

He let out a sigh as he finally tore his gaze away from you to wipe his hands onto a kitchen rag.

“Gotta get goin’,” he whispered hurriedly, fingers running down his messy hair to smooth them down. “You need anything, sweetheart?”

You shook your head no and he took it as a cue to leave the premises. He rushed to pick up his phone from the dining room table, eyes fleeting to find his wallet right after.

“Hey, Mr. Miller.”

He turned his head to meet your eyes.

“You busy tonight?”

Dinner had always been a lonesome affair for you.

Back when you still live in your parents’ cluttered mishmash of a house, you’d always opt out of family dinner. Not because you weren’t particularly fond of your mother’s cooking, her one pot recipes will still remain nostalgic in your head despite time, but more because you’d rather not indulge in petty arguments. They’d always argue. Your mother would flash you that look of hers, silently demanding you to stay on her side when it comes to dealing with your father’s frequent misdemeanors. He’d complain about the tiniest bits of things. If the lettuce was too wilted or if you were wearing too much makeup. He’s an ass, sure, but it’s not like your mother’s planning to abandon him anytime soon. They’re conjoined at this point. Even when it’s massively unhealthy, especially for spectators like you.

In Mr. Miller’s home, oftentimes, you’d put together an edible meal for the entire family. Mr. Miller was a hard worker, according to the accounts that he made, so it’s not rare that you’d have to fry up sausages and whip mashed potatoes together for Sarah. It’s not as if he made it your responsibility. He’d encourage the two of you to order take outs or phone in the pizza place, but that couldn’t be good for Sarah’s growth or his own pocket. And as much as you’d like to deny it, you’re growing way too fond of the Millers.

But it’s been far too long since you crossed path with Mr. Miller. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten what his natural musk after a long day smelt like. Far too long that you might’ve forgotten how heavy his boots were as it dragged across the tiles. Far too long that you surely misses him.

You’re nervous.

Unreasonably so when the promise you’ve made with him was simply for dinner. Nothing less or more. Just dinner. Was the invitation you gave him.. too much? Was it too flirty? Was it silly to think that he might’ve entertained the little show you put out? The desperate stares and chewed lips, you’re undeniably begging for attention. Begging for him to pay attention to you, see what you’re made out of, doesn’t he want to unravel you more? The audacity you have was laughable.

How pathetic, you thought.

Just like clockwork, Mr. Miller showed up right after your self-deprecating cycle. Right after all that flirty and playful energy got brutally murdered by common sense. Right after they were buried in a graveyard of mistakes and what was left was simply the putrid scent of shame. Your head perked up expectantly. As if the mere sight of him in his work uniform, a combo of worn-out flannel shirts and dark-washed jeans, would cure you of exhaustion. Mr. Miller came barging into the hallway. His thumb and index finger diligently massaged the tall bridge of his nose, eyes closed and nose flared from breathing too hard. Your eyes finally made its rounds to where his free arm was propped up on his waist. Sleeves rolled to where it was physically impossible to roll them higher.

He didn’t look like he was in the best of moods.

And somehow.. somehow it excites you.

“Hi, how are you?” you spoke stiffly as if you’re one of those supermarket cashiers, posture straightening upon his arrival.

“Not good,” he replied gruffly.

Mr. Miller made his way to you. He appeared to be the same height and stature as he’s always been, but for whatever reason, he looked a lot larger. As if he could bite and tear you into chunks of flesh if he truly desired to. His movements were staggered. Each step seemed to be more and more of a hassle to him. He had this.. frown on his face. You could even call it a scowl. Forehead waved with folds of worries, lips tightened into an irritated pull as he finally settled down across from you. This new side to him made your limbs limp and your heart spasm. A squeeze each time his narrowed eyes met yours.

“Everything.. okay?” you mused out.

“Just a bunch of shit piling up,” he reasoned, looking down to meet the plate you carefully crafted for him. “Nothin’ to worry your pretty little head.”

The plate’s cold, boiled asparagus hardened and packaged chicken dried, but he didn’t even consider complaining. His brown eyes took in the effort you gave, a brief sheen of guilt glazing those pretty eyes of his before he picked up his fork and spoon. You watched him with care. His every move calculated and drilled deep into your head.

“Sarah asleep?”

“Mhm. I bored her to death with trigonometry,” you chuckled lightly. “She’s okay. Just.. she’s been asking for you. Asking me why you’re always home late.”

Joel’s eyes perked up from the plate. He met your eyes, but it almost felt like he’s looking right through you, over your head to where he could contemplate his decisions. You knew this just from looking, but Joel Miller had a fear of not being a good parental figure. Sarah only had one and he’s barely ever home. That sort of thought festered over him and took over any sort of inhibition. Any sort of clear thinking, that he’s doing all these side jobs to help support her further in life, that it was all for her. Mr. Miller beats himself up too much, but it’s not like you had any right to intervene. You watched as he indulged in the asparagus, seeing how it’s grown cold enough to feel like metal rods when bitten into. He chewed on it with a solemn expression, a curl between his brows.

“Sorry for putting you through this, sweetheart,” he hummed. “I could.. should actually hire help.”

You waited a beat.

“You’ve been doing me too much favor. It’s not.. right.”

“Don’t need to.”

“Why?”

“Always happy to help.”

“But-”

“It’ll cost you too much for help. You’d be sleeping at your job if that happens.”

He could easily earn up to thousands if he gave into the temptations and started working for a mainstream adult film company. One that’s easily recognized from its corny storylines and cringy high-pitched over-the-top moans. Mr. Miller would be a hit, you’re sure of that. Mainstream porn only requires two things when it comes to male actors: a pretty reasonably-sized cock and charisma. Both in which he had under his belt. If he weren’t so particular with the actresses he chose, the angles in which he filmed, and the routine in which he performed in, perhaps he wouldn’t have to beat himself up to skin and bones. You leaned your cheeks onto the palm of your hands as you watched him devour his dinner.

“I need a favor.”

His fork paused.

“But you- well, you’ll laugh.”

He looked up. The crinkles beside his eyes seemed a lot more prominent, as if he’s thoroughly entertained by your youthful silliness.

“What is it? Somethin’ for Simon is it?”

He’s spot on and it’s making you shrink.

“What?” he chuckled gruffly. “You gonna ask me to teach ya how to blow a guy? Oh.. or how to hang him up in ribbons?”

You looked away, awkwardly scratching your elbow.

“Fuck. I’m spot on, am I? Didn’t take you for a kinky gal.”

“No! God, no,” you looked at him, horrified. “Not the latter.”

“The former then?”

“The former.”

The former. You couldn’t bear to wait for his delayed answer. It’s shameless for you to be asking a second time, but you couldn’t help yourself. You’re pent-up, desperate, and he’s your porn star crush forfuckssake. You stood up from where you’re seated. Your gaze was averted completely, to the point where it’s tilted at an uncomfortable angle to shuffle away from his attention. It’s better to sleep it off. Then maybe you’d act like all this didn’t happen the next day. Sarah’s going to be around for breakfast, so he’d surely keep his mouth in check and draw his way out of this. Wouldn’t he.. would he-

“Hey, hey slow down.”

You felt a hand stop you. His grip was tight, possibly bruising if you were to retaliate any other way. It was still hard to meet his eyes, especially when you had to make the special effort to tilt your head up in order to meet his searing gaze. You waited instead, letting him hinder you of any movements as you stared intensely into his flannel-cladded chest. What was he going to say? Is he going to call you up for your perverseness? Was he-

“I’ll do it.”

“What?”

“I said I’ll do it.”

His voice clambered in the chambers of your heart. Masculine, thick with an inch of Southern bass, he took hold of your other hand with those thick fingers of his. This was different from your first lesson. He looked much more.. impatient. A bit of a rough edge when it comes to handling you, a pretty little thing that’s too brave and forward for your own good. His scent, fragments of wood and a taste of clean laundry, permeated the thick air around you. You inhaled him. All of him for the first time in a very very long week. He released the steel grip he had around your wrists and traced it over the rough outline of your body. Up, up, up, until he reached the span of your shoulder. Your breath hitched. All you could feel in your heart was a repeating desire for himhimhim.

He pushed you down slowly, guiding you to lower yourself before him. Right until your knees hit the freezing linoleum tiles beneath his feet. What were you doing? Is it the right decision to fall back into the same old mistake?

“Have you ever practiced on anything before?” he chuckled, almost demeaning in a sense. “A banana or a hairbrush perhaps?”

You shook your head no. All you could see was his dirty jeans, stained of dry concrete and paint.

He brought his rough fingers down to graze against your chin, tilting it upwards so that you’d face him. His eyes were dark, hooded, and trying its best to conceal its obvious amusement. Your chest heaved up and down. Nervous of what he’s about to do next.

“Let’s practice first, ‘kay, sweetheart?” he muttered.

Mr. Miller brought his other pair of fingers next to your face, cradling it with such reverence. He swiped your lips. Bottom then top, only to delve inside your mouth to wet it with enough lubricant. He’s initiating it. His little routine. The older man brought two of his fingers, his index and middle, before he inserted it slowly into your wet cavity. Slowly. Achingly slow. He made sure that you’re comfortable with just a knuckle deep before he proceeded to push in further until the tips sat at the very beginning of your tongue. It wasn’t a familiar feeling like rubbing your clit. You struggle not to gag, or to whimper at the sheer lewdness of the scene unfolding.

“Ah, what a smart girl,” he mused. “Lay your tongue flat for me.”

Your clammy palms fell helplessly atop your smooth pajama pants, gripping on the cotton everytime it felt like too much. His thick fingers separated to make the girth much larger, preparing you for what’s to come. It’s almost as if you could taste him. Taste the natural scent Mr. Miller has around him at all times, taste the carnal desire he held for this. You knew he wouldn’t openly admit it, but this time, it truly looked like he’s looking forward to ripping your innocence away. All his feigned affection stretched thin as you obeyed him perfectly. Tongue flat on the base of your mouth, you breathed in through your nose as best as you can.

“That boy wouldn’t like it if you’re sharp with your teeth,” he muttered as he pulled his fingers away. A string of saliva connected the tip of his wet fingers to your slacked jaw. Oh, how vulgar. Your tight entrance twitched and throbbed inside your panties. Arousal started to wet the thin material, painting dark circles that contrast with the bright color. You were heaving, panting from the sudden increase of oxygen. “So no teeth, keep your tongue flat, and breathe through your nose.”

“You got that, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

“Yes, who?”

“Yes, Mr. Miller.”

“Alright. Would you like me to take my pants off or do you wanna try it yourself?”

You looked up at the tempting prospect. He gave you a little nod, affirming that you indeed had the upper hand to the situation. And just like that your hands were quick to get on the perimeter of his belt. You loosened the leather from its metal confines, slowly pulling it away from the hook before leaving it. The leather hung from where his two front loops were located. Meekly, you looked up once more as your soft fingers felt his buttons up. He hissed through his pursed lips, a good reaction you assume, as you slowly unbuttoned the main button. You were confident enough now to tug away at his zippers. Step one was completed, you’ve successfully opened him up like a Christmas present.

But.. what’s next?

“What do I do next?”

“What do you think you do?”

You reached out for the waistband of his briefs, but you were quickly met with a little slap on the back of your hand. Not a hurtful one. Just a little reminder.

“It’s best if you get him worked up first so he’s fully hard when you’re ready,” he whispered. “Why don’t you press some gentle kisses on it?”

You hummed in agreement, before you did as you’re told. Even with the dim lighting of the dining room, you could see clearly where the outline of his cock is. It’s semi-erected, you deduced. You’ve seen him in all his glory to the point where you could calculate how much more he could grow. Gently, you closed the gap between you and those pair of briefs he’s wearing. Your mouth was hot and warm in contrast to the cold air, so when you finally pressed a kiss on top of his clothed shaft, his cock twitched immediately. You could feel it and see it too in certain lighting. Encouraged, you press even more kisses on each and every spot, slowly building up the desire until you reach the leaking tip. You nuzzled your nose close. It smelled like him, salty with a tinge of masculine musk.

This turned you on so much that you inevitably grinded your bottom towards the cold tile. Nothing was there to satiate your throbbing core, just a short term burst of pleasure.

“Shit, sweetie,” he hissed. “I think you’re ready.”

With haste, you quickly tugged on his waistband. You didn’t expect for his length to pop out that quickly, the startled reaction you had was proof of that. He looked.. pretty. Blushed beige with a ruddy tip that's covered. It’s a little silly that that’s the first thing that came to your mind, but it’s the truth. You’d never guess that you could get this up close. Eye level to the cock you’ve been fantasizing about, where you could practically see each and every one of his veins. You didn’t say one word. Instead, you settled on observing the new interest. Your one finger went up curiously to touch the white substance that’s pooling up top. Sticky, you thought. Out of curiosity, you stuck the lone finger down your throat. Salty was the next thought in line.

“Didn’t expect you to taste it,” he chuckled.

You simmered in the sudden embarrassment.

“What’s next? Should I just put it in my mouth?”

“You could.”

“There’s another way?” you peered up curiously.

“Well,” he hummed. You watched as his finger pried your lips open once more, urging you to stick out your wet tongue. “You could make a show out of it. Look me in the eye and lick me slowly.”

You quirked your eyebrows as if unsure if this will work. You’ve never taken yourself as a ‘sexy’ person. Will this even work? To get rid of those plaguing thoughts, you decided to take a leap of faith. You stuck your tongue out more and slowwwwly dragged it along his salty length. You made sure to keep your eyes on his, watching his every micro reaction to decide which one pleased him more. This is supposed to be about Simon! Why are you.. seeking for his validation? On instinct, you pulled the hooded skin back to reveal his furiously red tip. You laughed nervously before you experimentally sucked on it. The wet warmth instantly had him buck up into you, a strained groan following suit.

“Oh shit,” he cursed. “You’re doing good.”

Getting confident, you decided to suckle on it a little more. It tasted a lot more intense than what you’ve tasted of him, but it wasn’t bad at all.

“You think you could take more, sweetheart?”

You nodded before letting his length infiltrate your mouth even more. The end touched the back of your throat ambitiously before you had to pull back and set yourself onto his sensitive tip once more. It wasn’t as easy as his co-stars are making it seem. There was a rhythm in which you have to master, a balance of push and pull so that you don’t gag at the intrusion. His soft groans were heavenly. You didn’t get to hear much of it the first time around, but now it’s all you could think of. You can’t take it anymore! You just had to touch yourself.

“Shit, you’re a dirty gal, are ya?” he chuckled. “Had to touch yourself to this?”

You cried out a muffled moan. It was all too familiar. The way in which you slipped your hand into your pants, shuffling between the layers of panties to rub at your clit. You were already drenched with need. Strings of arousal webbed between your fingers as you rubbed figure eights all across the sensitive patch of nerves. You’re losing track of the rhythm and Mr. Miller took notice of that. He was kind enough to lead you. His fingers slotted perfectly behind the crown of your head, guiding you in a pace you could tolerate.

“Perfect mouth for little Simon,” he degraded.

Mr. Miller’s large hands continued to move you at a certain pace. The time slot left for you to gather your breath tightened and it’s almost like you could pass out from the lack of oxygen. But it felt too good. He tasted too nice. You’ve got his cock in your mouth and it’s spurting out tangy liquid goodness onto your tongue, what else can you ask for?

You continued to grind onto the palm of your hand, desperate enough to not think of how shameless you looked. So slick, your fingers let out a lewd pop everytime it dipped inside of you. Usually you weren’t fond of vaginal penetration by yourself, but the thought of having his cock inside of you left you rabid. This was supposed to be about Simon, is it not?

“You wanna know what a real man tastes like?” he mused out lazily.

You nodded desperately. Mr. Miller held your head tight against his pelvis. Your nose grazed against the coarse dark curls he had as he twitched inside of you. You continued to slick the pads of your fingers against yourself. An entire week of masturbation being combined into one as you felt that familiar pressure build in your stomach. A coil waiting to be snapped.

“Sh- shit.”

Mr. Miller broke first. He hunched slightly as he rode his orgasm out. You could see how his legs trembled and his hips bucked himself even further down your throat.

There it was. The salty trace you tried earlier came in big spurts down your throat, only when you couldn’t fit more did it start seeping out your mouth. It dribbled down the gaps between his softened cock and your aching mouth, stripes of white just trickling down vulgarly. You moaned into his cock, wetting the flimsy material of your panties. A combination of the scent his cock gave to the familiar rubs to your clit had you seeing stars. You knew for a fact that the linoleum tiles would be soaked with your juices when you come up to your feets.

This isn’t a problem anymore, it’s a catastrophe.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel miller tlou #joel miller #tlou #tlou x reader #the last of us x reader #the last of us #tw age gap

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lavenderedhoney · 9 months

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hi, can I ask how you finger/generally play with your girlfriend's pussy? my girlfriend is also trans and she likes it when I play around there, but I haven't figured out quite how to really make her feel good there yet. I thought it might just not be her thing, but she had her first full prostate-only orgasm from a vibrator there the other day (after she had already come from me going down on her) and now I'm all excited about it again lol

YES YES YES YES YES I LOVE TALKING ABOUT EXTERNAL PROSTATE STIM

Here's from the article where I first saw it talked about:

It took some figuring out the exact location but my baby's g-spot is about halfway between her balls and her hole and she loves all kinds of touch and contact. Her pussy is very sensitive so even gently grazing it with my knuckles or fingertips makes her moan and shake. She loves tongue and I can make her cum by lapping at her and pressing my tongue against her, and a vibrator is also always a winner. But my favorite is using my first two fingers on my right hand (keep your nails short!). I find the right spot and I press upward and use thrusting and slight hooking motions and she goes fucking crazy. When I first started experimenting down there she said I would sometimes pinch her or press too hard and accidentally overstim her, but now I've gotten it down so well I can make her cum in less than a minute (and as many times as I want).

I really hope you can find a way to touch her that she likes because it's one of my favorite ways to make my girl feel good. 💖

Put your age on your blog before interacting with this post or perish!

Edit: if you reblog from r*pe, abuse, ageplay/"icky kiddo," or inc*st kink blogs get off this post

#reply #anonymous #text #advice

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yandere-kokeshi · 5 months

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What about dad ghost with an introvert kid???

Yandere Platonic-Dad Ghost x gn reader, whose introverted

Warnings: yandere behavior, descriptions of isolation, shy personality, and Platonic ghost! Dad.

A/N: ahhh, please send in more Platonic yandere dad. He's my favorite. Enjoy <3

It brings out the most protective side of him. He would take it upon himself to take care of you more often, likely saying no whenever you ask to go outside with friends. Dad! Ghost begins to convince himself, quite quickly, that he needs to make sure you don’t get taken advantage of.

The fact you are quiet to the point you don’t have many friends is perfect; a small circle where he can watch you closely and make sure nothing bad happens.

Which also means, he’s quite possessive — scaring off your friends with his resting-face, and intimating structure. But it’s not like you need much of them, you have him, don’t you?

Most of the time, Dad! Ghost uses the excuse of your social battery to make you stay home. Want to head out with a friend for coffee? Kid, don’t you realize you’ll get tired? Your energy bar is going down too fast to the point you’ll be calling him. So why don’t you stay home, and he gets coffee for you — your favorite and his, watching TV together.

Heading to the mall with your guy-friend? Don’t you know how dangerous it can be, kiddo? It’s his job to protect you. And the fact you’re going into a crowded place, with a guy, will instantly drain you. So, why don’t you stay home, and he’ll let you order whatever on Amazon?

In all, Dad! Ghost uses this as an excuse to keep you to himself.

He really enjoys when it’s just the both of you, wanting nothing more than to see your laughing face when a comedy show comes up. There are plenty of times when the two of you just sit in proximity of another, relaxing. Sometimes studying, listening to music on your phone, anything really. He’s just content to be near you — his only and first kiddo.

—

Masterlist || Please consider reblogging and commenting instead of liking. It helps me as a creator!! Stay well!!

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abbyromanoff · 10 months

Text

Destiny Can Be Hell

Pairings: Kate Bishop x fem!reader, (past) Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova

Word count: 13,106

Warnings: cheating (R has a husband), older!R, arguing, drinking, mentions of drugs (cocaine, heroine, weed, LCD, mushrooms), smut, fingering, face riding, cunnilingus, handcuffs, mommy kink (R), excessive pet names (baby girl, baby, sweetheart, honey, etc), mentions of gagging, thigh riding, strap on use (K), public sex, masturbation, phone sex, biting, spitting, Kate has mommy issues, almost getting caught, abuse of power, powerbottom!R, service top/switch!Kate, degrading, guilt, angst, fluff, multiple orgasms, praising, smoking, jealousy, think that’s about it :)

This is based on the show “Gypsy” on Netflix, def recommend it!

No one is permitted to steal, copy, or reblog my work as their own!!

“And then she just left. H-how can someone just throw you away like you meant nothing to them?” You nodded with understanding, making another small note on your paper marked with the words, ‘Yelena Belova’.

“Honey, I know this may be hard to take in but, do you think she might’ve just, say, gotten bored?” The blonde looked at you through tears and gulped down her nerves. She wasn’t the easiest to get through, but after nearly six months together you learned how to reach her. Her parents had forced her to come here if she wanted to continue living with them, and, due to her having nothing left in her bank account, she had to agree.

“But, why? I don’t think I’m all that boring, am I?” You quickly shushed her with a shake of your head, grasping her clasped hands in your own.

“Trust me, Lena, you are not a bore. But, sometimes some people struggle being with others or spending so long with one person, and that’s their own battle that they need to fight on their own, you can’t help them. And no matter how badly you want to help them and be there for them, is it really worth losing your mind and sanity over?”

“But I loved her..”

“I know you did. But there comes a point where you need to give yourself an ultimatum, are you going to ruin your life for hers when you still need to live with yourself every day? While I know you’re such a sweet, young girl who just wants to help others, you’ll never be able to fix someone; you have to be able to fix yourself.” She moved into your arms, wrapping her own around your shoulders as she cried. It pained you to hear it when you had started developing a love her for. She was almost like a daughter to you that you’d be willing to protect at any cost and knowing you couldn’t protect her heart from that asshole only hurt more.

“Thank you, Y/N.” She used to call you Mrs. Y/L/N, but you had insisted that she call you by your first name, hearing the title always made you feel old.

“Of course, kiddo. Now, let me assign you your homework for the week, okay?” She agreed, wiping the tears from her face before you handed her a tissue from your desk. You grabbed a new sheet of paper and wrote down her assignment, ‘Remove all things belonging to your ex from your belongings and put them somewhere hidden where you won’t find them.’

When you handed it to her she looked shocked. She didn’t know if she could do so, but she’d try for you and herself.

“And don’t forget, even if you don’t complete it yet, you still have a long time to do so. And no matter what, I’ll always be proud of you, Yelena.” You said your goodbyes before sitting on your desk chair, spinning in it for a moment before throwing your head back and letting out a sigh. You were exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home, but you still had one more session.

After another hour of listening to one of your patients, you finally decided to head home. But first, you wanted to stop for some coffee. You had been craving it for a few days now that your espresso machine broke and you were running late this morning so you didn’t have time to order any.

The doorbell chime rang as you entered but it didn’t draw many eyes, there were already at least twenty-ish people in here.

“Can I have one small cold brew, please?” The man in front of you nodded and wrote down the order, yelling to some girl in the back to make it. You waited patiently and passed the time by going on your phone, smiling at the video your husband sent you of him and his friends saying hello. They were at the bar for an after-work drink and he would most likely not be back for another two hours.

Your eyes soon landed on a flyer in front of you, it was bright yellow and practically begging for your attention. It was an advertisement for a band who were playing this Friday at the local pub. All of a sudden, you heard your name being called and shot your eyes up to see who it was, almost forgetting where you were.

“Cold brew for Y/N!” You walked forward, your eyes still examining the piece of paper and the details written on it. You weren’t exactly planning on going but the idea didn’t disappoint.

“Nice flyer, lady.” You looked up with a raised brow, eyeing the girl in front of you who just grinned.

“It’s my band, I’m the lead singer.”

“Oh! Sorry, I thought you were just being rude there.” You chuckled with embarrassment, walking over to the side where napkins and straws were placed.

“So, you going?” The girl was still there, even if she most likely had many other orders to take.

“Uh, I might. I’ve never really been that into rock.” She shrugged. You didn’t know why she was wasting her time talking to you but you weren’t mad about it, either. In fact, there was a small part of you that enjoyed the small talk with her, even if you only knew her for a minute or less.

“Well, I promise we won’t disappoint. And if you do go, I’ll buy you a shot on me, deal?”

“And why would you do that for me?” She shrugged once again, a smirk teasing at her lips.

“‘Cause you’re hot.” Was all she said before returning to her spot in the back where you guessed she would make the drinks. You chuckled to yourself and tried to hide the blush now adorning your cheeks from any pass-byer’s as if they’d even care for one second what you were giddy about.

“Welcome home, my love.” You greeted your husband from the bed as he entered the room. He took off his suit jacket and pecked your cheek before entering the master bathroom.

“How were the guys?” He took a moment to respond due to him having still been brushing his teeth. Once he spit out the toothpaste, he spoke.

“Fine.” You hummed and pressed your lips together before turning to shut your bedside lamp off. You both had noticed the distance between you two starting to grow even more, but you were trying to hang on for the sake of this marriage.

“Goodnight, Steve.” He responded in a tired voice and quickly fell asleep next to you. Even after he brushed his teeth, you could still smell the alcohol residue on his breath and body.

He wasn’t a horrible man, he just wasn’t the best husband either. He loved you, you knew that. But he didn’t know how to show it. When you two had met each other he was receiving help from counselors and you really thought he’d change for you. He was a sex addict, nothing else mattered when sex would be involved. You thought you could fix him, and that’s why you had given Yelena that advice, so she wouldn’t end up like you who’d dread going home to her partner every night.

You toyed with your ring before placing it on the bedside table along with your blue-light glasses. Your hand lingered over the paper from today before you grabbed it once again. You were wondering what was happening to you, you didn’t even know this woman but you were still considering going.

Friday had come quicker than expected and here you were, sitting in your office with your work bag being filled with your current clothes. You looked too professional for a small bar and a band, so you thought you’d try and look your best for once since your wedding day.

“Ooh, what’s the special occasion for miss sexy tonight, hm?” You rolled your eyes at your coworker's words, Wanda had always been such a flirt.

“Don’t you have a husband and children to get home to, Wands?”

“Yes, but they have me all the time, I need a break from those brats.” She sat down in front of you as you ate the rest of your fruit bowl from today for dinner.

“I told you, I’m always willing to babysit if you need a break. I may not have children but I am good with them.” She leaned back into her chair and sipped from her mug thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you and Steve have kids? I mean, you’re thirty-five, Y/N, and you’re not getting any younger. Besides, with the muscles on that man, he could carry the babies for you.” You laughed along with her, resting your head on your hand. It’s not that you didn’t want kids, you’ve thought about it before. But having them with Steve didn’t seem like a possibility, especially with his addiction.

“I- I don’t know, I don’t think it’s going to happen.” Wanda looked at you, looking be-widdled at your statement. You knew how much she adored the thought of children, even if she complained about hers all day long. So for her to hear you weren’t going to have any was like a stab in the heart, even to her.

“What? Y/N, honey, you can’t be serious right now.” You shrugged without care and stood up to remove your empty bowl from the table. You placed it in your bag and put it on your bare shoulder, giving a kiss to Wanda’s cheek as you started to walk out.

“We’ll talk about it another time. But for now, I’m going to have some fun at the bar before I have to go back to doing nothing at home.” She slapped your ass playfully as you left, and you strutted your hips just to tease her.

The moment you entered the small building, a strong wave of alcohol hit your nose, you could’ve choked on it. You grabbed a margarita and sat in a booth all alone, questioning if you should’ve even come here in the first place. That was until you looked at the stage and there she was, setting up the microphone while her crew set up their own tools. You couldn’t put your eyes anywhere else. It was like staring at the sun, you knew it wasn’t good for you, but the feeling was so powerful that you didn’t want to look away.

Her voice soon boomed across the whole place and drew everyone’s eyes onto her, you wished you were the only one though. She thanked everyone for coming out tonight before she opened her mouth to sing, the vocals leaving her like it was second nature.

You moved to the front of the row, watching her with admiration. The lights were a dark red and the ones on stage were a bright, beaming yellow. It somehow illuminated her skin perfectly. Her nose ring shined and you were immediately drawn to it. Oh, how she could captivate you so much in such little time was insane, but you didn’t want to lose this. When her eyes met with yours you swore you saw hearts all around, you felt like you would’ve nearly fainted if it wasn’t for the people behind you squishing you.

Once she got off stage and thanked everyone again, you walked back to your booth to collect your things. You didn’t plan on staying, but that was until you heard her booming voice over the other patrons.

“I didn’t expect you to actually show up, coffee girl.” You grinned at the nickname and shook your head loosely before regaining eye contact with her.

“Where are you headed? I promised you a drink, didn’t I?”

“Uh, I should probably be getting home soon, I wasn’t exactly planning to stay out very long.” She rolled her eyes and dragged you towards the bar, yelling to the bartender for two fireball shots. You looked at her with wide eyes until she sat down, slapping the seat next to her to signal you to sit.

“You guys were really good up there.” You said, ruining the silence that overtook you both. She looked over to you, downing the shot with a raised eyebrow and the same classy smirk she gave you yesterday.

“Why, thank you, coffee girl.”

“You can just call me Y/N, coffee girl.” You teased her, smiling to yourself when you notice she doesn’t seem uninterested.

“Well then, Y/N, you can call me Kate.” You two continued small talk for nearly half an hour, most of it being about her band and her work. But she was intrigued to know more about you than herself, she wanted to know your life story, but you weren’t being that easy.

“So, Y/N,” You hummed in response. “Tell me about yourself.”

“Well, what exactly would you like to know?” She seemed deep in thought as she stared into the pupils of your eyes. You were like a mystery she wanted to solve.

“How old are you?”

“Thirty-five.” She clicked her tongue happily.

“Mm, I like my women older.” Your mouth fell open at her comment before you shook yourself off when she showed no sign of the words affecting her as they did you.

“Any kids?”

“Nope.”

“Husband? Wife?”

“Husband.” She examined the way you took a moment longer to answer and furrowed her brows together. She looked down at your hand.

“Where’s the ring?” You followed her eyes to where she was right, there was no ring on your finger to prove you were in fact married.

“Oh- right, I must’ve forgotten it at home.” You nervously chuckled, hoping that she’d drop it without further questioning. She did.

“Ever been with a woman before.”

“Uh, no. No, I haven’t.” You stuttered, rubbing the back of your neck as your leg bounced quickly.

“Even better.” What was that supposed to mean? You wanted to ask her, but she was already starting to walk out the door. You followed her with hesitation, wondering if she even wanted you to.

“Where…where are you going?” There was a small bit of hope in your tone. You were hoping she wouldn’t just leave you like that, especially when you enjoyed talking to her so much. The other women you knew weren’t like her. They weren’t as fun or energetic. Their voices didn’t have your ears making love, it only made them burn to hear them talk about their children and how pathetic their husbands are.

You wondered how Wanda would react to this. Knowing that you were practically falling for a girl nearly half your age. Especially when she adored your husband for whatever reason it was that she had said before, you probably weren’t listening anyways.

“For a smoke. Wanna join?” You let out a breathy nod, her face nearly inches from yours. She stared down at your lips for a moment before looking at your facial features, her mouth slightly parted just enough so you could see a small number of her teeth.

“You don’t smoke.” She said before dragging you with her by your hand, her own loosely grabbing the tips of your fingers to guide you with her.

“How do you know that?”

“I can read you like a book, baby.” The side of her mouth parted upward as she grabbed the small box from her back pocket. Her other bandmates were already out there, most likely high out of their minds and snorting a line off of the stairway. You bit your lip in order to not let anything slip that you knew you’d regret later on.

“Hey! Lighter.” She yelled to someone who you didn’t know the name of and quickly after, a lighter was thrown at her and she caught it in her hand like it was a baseball. She leaned against the alleyway wall, one of her legs holding her up while the other folded at the knee to rest on the wall.

“You want one or not?” She nodded in your direction with the box in her hands. You reached out after a moment of worry. You were wondering if this was a bad idea, but what harm could one do? She put the small container back into her back pocket after you took one, lighting her cigarette before cupping her hands around yours and doing the same. The moment you inhaled the tough smoke, your lungs filled with the disgusting taste of it. It traveled down your throat and tickled it on the way. She laughed when you had a small coughing fit.

“You look like me the first time I smoked.” You were never the adventurous type when you were younger, often opting in to finish your studies or watch a movie. It paid off in the end when you had a good-paying job and a nice house, but there were still times in your life when you regretted not having the same amount of fun your past friends had. While half of them either ended up with addictions or dead-end jobs that did nothing to support them, you still wished you got to experience all of those events instead of having your first drink of alcohol with your parents on your twenty-first birthday. God, how that still embarrassed you.

But Kate wasn’t like that. She was a nineteen-year-old girl with a passion for music. She wasn’t in college and she had a boring job serving and making coffee. But at the end of the week, she got to unwind with her vocals and melodies. You aspired to be the kind of girl she is.

“You ever done worse than cigs?” You asked in a beat of silence, your stance matching Kate’s but clearly looking more awkward and forced than she did.

“Depends, what do you see as worse than this?” You shrugged, going over all the options in your head of the things you’ve always heard people around her age getting addicted to. Even one of your clients had come to you, seeking help with the depression she had dealt with, mainly due to the pills she used on a daily. Her boyfriend was abusive and a drug dealer, her mother was on her death bed, and her scholarship was ruined due when they found out what she was taking. Her father had left her when she was young and she had no one left, she couldn’t even face her mother after the events took place.

“I don’t know, like…weed. Cocaine, heroin, LSD, anything really.”

“I smoke weed often, but I’m not an addict. I’ve tried cocaine once, didn’t like how it made my nose feel after. And that’s really it. Oh, I did use mushrooms before too.” She casually spoke, as if she hadn’t admitted to taking illegal drugs. After all, she didn’t know if you were a cop, she didn’t know anything about you.

“And?”

“And, it wasn’t horrible, but fucking expensive.”

“And weed isn’t?”

“Nah, my pals mostly give me a discount on it. They grow it themselves so they make a fuck load of money, they don’t need mine.” She stomped on the cigarette bud that was now on the ground before saying bye to her pals. It was already late and you two had been standing there for over an hour in the peaceful, cold night. Well, peaceful wasn’t the best word to describe it. Cars were honking at one another and angry drivers were shouting. Some people were shouting and fighting the air, you took note of their bodies and came to the conclusion that they were under something stronger than what you were using. Music was still blaring from the pub and people were getting kicked out left and right, some leaving with blood dripping down their faces.

“So, you wanna head back to my place?” While you wanted to take up the offer, you knew you couldn’t. You hadn’t even told your husband the truth about where you were, insisting that you were staying late at work to finish some files before getting a quick drink with Wanda. He’d know something was up if you didn’t come home that night, and with Kate’s clear intentions, you knew you wouldn’t be heading home afterward.

“Uh, I can’t. My husband would probably be suspicious if I weren’t to return home.” She smiled devilishly at your words, trailing her fingertips lightly against your arm. You shivered, and it wasn’t from the close-to-negative temperature.

“Where’d you tell him you were going?”

“Staying late at work, then getting a drink with a friend of mine.”

“Ah, the classic cheating excuse, sometimes works, sometimes doesn’t.” You looked at her dumbfounded and stepped back from her touch.

“I’m not cheating on my husband.”

“So, this,” She stepped towards you once again, your body fighting against you and leaning into her. She placed her hands on your ass and pulled your forward, looking into your eyes with that hazy look she had. She leaned her face into your neck, brushing her lips against the soft skin as her breath tickled you.

“This is nothing?” She whispered as you felt a small peck landing on your neck. She did it one, two, three times before you came back to your senses and pushed her off of you.

“Stop it, Kate! I’m not going to cheat on my husband, I still love him.” She raised her hands defensively and laughed. Oh, how you wanted to rip that smirk off her face. But simultaneously, you wanted nothing more than to see that smirk as she hovered over you, her cold fingers causing goosebumps to erupt over your skin as she touched you just below the belt. Having her peel off your pants, kiss down your body as your head would be thrown back when her tongue would lick up all of your wetness caused by her.

“Then why did you even come here?” You tried keeping a hardened face, although it wasn’t exactly easy with the thoughts racing through your mind.

“You really expect me to believe you just wanted to hear me sing? Please, I’m not that innocent, Y/N. I know you wanted to see what else I could do with my mouth-” You tried walking away before anything could escalate, but her hand gripped your wrist with a tight hold.

“Don’t walk away from me, baby girl.”

“I’m older than you, I’m not your baby.” She shook her head with a laugh. The number of times she had chuckled tonight was unbearable, but you wanted to hear more of it. You chased the sound that was so heavenly to you.

“Yeah, well, I wanna call you my baby girl if you let me. Will you be my baby girl, Y/N?” Yes. Yes. Yes, is what you wanted to scream out. You could’ve died just at the thought of her calling you that alone.

“I-”

“Let me have your phone. I’ll put my number in it and you can text me if you want. Or, you can go home to your husband and sleep in his arms while you wish it was me.” You reached into your purse and handed it to her after a moment. Your mind raced with any possible fear you could have, but you stood still and didn’t let it show. She opened your phone, the lack of a password making it easy to access anything she’d want. But she only went to contacts, typed in her digits, and gave it back to you. She leaned in to kiss your cheek and gave you a wink as she left. You were stuck in your spot, staring at your phone that had at least ten messages and calls from your husband that were silenced when you put it on do not disturb. You sighed and rubbed your temples with your hands before walking to the sidewalk of the loud street, calling over a taxi, and having him drive you home. You paid sixty-two dollars and thirty-two cents and thanked the man before exiting the car, walking to the front of your house, and using the key to enter.

Your husband was dead asleep in your shared bedroom, the only thing covering his body being a wife-beater and blue, Calvin Klein boxers. You walked into the bathroom, setting your phone down and grabbing your toothbrush. Your mind was plagued with the thought of her, of Kate. You wondered what she was doing right now, or who she was doing.

Once you had put everything away you grabbed your phone, staring at the number and debating on whether or not you were going to reach out. You wanted to, but there was still that small lingering fear that had you wondering if you should or not. If you did, you could risk your marriage and your heart. But if you didn’t, you could risk the unknown never being discovered.

Fuck it, you thought as you typed in a quick message to the woman, checking your phone every few seconds for a response. You didn’t expect one so fast, but she was record timing with her two-minute wait to respond.

Kate: So you did take up my offer after all

You: Yeah, I did.

You waited for her text with beads of sweat practically dripping down your face. You were so anxious and kept looking out the door for any sign of your husband waking up. He was out cold.

Kate: You don’t gotta be so formal on text yk

You: Well, I guess I just like being formal. Is that so bad?

Kate: Not at all baby

You: Why do you keep calling me that? I’m nearly twice your age, if anything, I should be calling you baby.

The three dots went in and out before you put your phone down, trying your best to think about anything else but failing in the end. You couldn’t stray away from her for more than a minute before you were falling back in for more.

Kate: You want me to be your baby?

You sucked in a breath, shuddering as you released it. You were up against the wall as you slid down it, the cold tiles pressing against you through the thin shirt you had on. You only wore a loose, lacy camisole and matching panties. Steve loved seeing you in it but he was too tired to be granted that gift.

You: I don’t know, maybe.

Your hand lowered into your panties, feeling your wet slit as you slowly parted your legs. You nearly jumped when your fingers made contact with your clit, you were absolutely dripping. How did she have such an effect on you in such little time? The question was one you’d never know. But what you did know was that you were in need of her. You needed her cold, long fingers replacing yours.

You pictured her face as you came to an orgasm. Her hair surrounding her perfectly sculptured face, falling over you as she laid on top of your shaking body. Her plump lips bringing you to another orgasm. Her soft thighs clenching as you returned the favor. Her breath shaky and hollow, a mere image of yours right now.

Kate: You still there Y/N?

The ding brought your focus back onto the phone, but still on her. You wanted to tell her what you had just done, would she think you’re too weird? Would she like it? Would she block you? You chose the safest bet in letting this rest in your deepest, darkest secrets file stored in your mind.

You: Sorry about that, I was doing something.

Three dots, a bubble. A response.

Kate: What were u doing?

You contemplated your options. If you told her, there was the risk of creeping her out, scaring her away for good. And you didn’t want that, she was one of the first people you enjoyed talking to in years. But if you didn’t tell her, maybe she’d never make a move on you again. That seemed great for many, but the facade you put up was only out of fear. Fear of someone seeing, fear of cheating, the fear of falling in so deep for her.

You: Just getting dressed.

You went with the safer option, feeling like your life was a video game where every small question can change the whole ending. Your nails were being bit down on as you anxiously awaited her.

Kate: What are u wearing?

Not what you were expecting. But with Kate, nobody could ever expect anything besides the unexpected. That’s what you enjoyed about her, she was unpredictable. She was like an adventure to a new country, you had no idea what you were doing or saying but you loved every moment of it.

You: This new camisole I got and my underwear. Nothing sexy, trust me.

Kate: Show me

You tried finding the best angle to take the photo, even standing to try and take a mirror pic but failing. You cursed to yourself and sat back down to where you were before, bringing your phone above your body and leaning it downward to take the picture. You sent it without looking back and saw the ‘read’ signal pop up. She was typing, and then it went away. The way she had this power over you shocked you immensely, why did you care so much about a girl who could sing? Maybe it was because she paid attention to you, something your husband for the life of him couldn’t do. Or maybe it was the exciting part of it. Your whole life was always a bore, but today had to have been the most exciting day in your nearly forty years of living.

Kate: Fuck youre so hot

You smiled to yourself and took another photo, this time including your face in the mix.

Kate: Baby youre killin me here

She sent a photo a second later, stating it took a minute to load before you were able to see it. You whimpered when seeing her under a blanket, clear signs of her wearing nothing underneath. Her leg was sticking out enough to be able to see that there was no underwear or shorts on. Her shoulders were exposed and you could almost see the top of her breasts from the angle. Her hair was sprawled out across the pillow beneath her head, her chin being the only part of her face you could see.

Before you could respond, another photo made its way to you. Her leg that was sticking out had her hand now resting on it, on the top of her inner thigh. Her pinky finger was just able to be seen as it mostly went under the blanket. She was so close to touching her core that even you were on edge and waiting for more.

Kate: I guess ur regretting not coming over now huh

You: I really wish I could’ve, trust me, I do.

Kate: Then why don’t u? Ur husband is prob dead asleep and would never know

Before you could answer, she was already typing out yet another response.

Kate: And r u just gonna leave me like this? Im so wet for you baby girl

Kate: U don’t know how badly I wanted to fuck u back at the pub

Kate: I can’t stop thinking bout it

Kate: U wanna know smth?

You quickly looked up the meaning of her slang word before answering, still watching the bed with a close eye for any movement.

You: What is it?

Kate: Ive been touching myself this whole time

You groaned to yourself, the wetness you fought so hard to relieve only coming back even worse.

Kate: Idk what if is about u but ur just so fucking sexy

Kate: Ive always been into older women but ur just different

Kate: In the best fucking way

You: I appreciate the compliment, baby.

Kate: I wanna hear u say that to me

Kate: I bet it sounds so hot coming from ur mouth

Your fingers somehow found their way back inside of your already-drenched panties. Your sore clit was rubbed in circles as you bucked your hips up to meet yourself halfway.

“Oh, fuck!” You mumbled under your breath, trying your best to cover your mouth but failing in the process.

You grabbed your phone, pressing the camera icon and pointing it to where your hand was almost hidden. You debated sending it, although you now knew she was doing the same so, what was the shame in it?

Kate: U alone?

You: Yeah, I’m in the bathroom and my husband is in the next room, but he won’t be waking up anytime soon.

You waited for a text, but instead, the screen lit up with a call. It wasn’t FaceTime so you wouldn’t be able to see her, but your mind already had enough pictures of her.

“You there, baby?” You hummed as an answer, afraid that if you were to speak, you’d end up gambling your words. Your breath was heavy, practically a pant by now.

“You sound so hot, fuck, you’re going to make me cum.” She bit her lip, her breath the same as yours as she rode her fingers. She had two inside of herself and she couldn’t help but think of how the night would’ve gone if you were there with her. For now, she’d have to stick to her fantasies. But soon enough, she’d have you. And she’d make you hers for good, no matter what that pity of a husband thought of it.

“I’m so close, I’m so close!” You whined, your wetness loud enough for Kate on the other end to hear. It only helped bring her closer to the edge as her coil tightened.

“Cum with me, Y/N.” It was in a low, cracked tone, but you could hear it. You followed her orders and exploded on your fingers, slumping even further against the wall when you heard her reach her peak as well.

“Can I tell you something, Kate?” You mimicked her earlier text with a grin, already picturing the type of effect it’d have on her when hearing what was to follow.

“Hm?”

“That wasn’t the first time this night that I touched myself thinking of you.” You hung up before she could answer, leaving her dumbfounded on her bed.

You lied in bed and that’s when everything hit you. Your husband, who slept near inches away from you, could’ve heard the way you came for another woman. Your orgasms with him weren’t nearly as good and you hadn’t even been touched by her yet, you could only imagine what that’d be like.

Tears threatened to spill as the realization came crashing down; you cheated. You were a cheater, and that would forever haunt you, you already knew it.

The rest of the weekend was mostly a blur, all that you did remember was Saturday night, dinner with the Wilsons. Sam was a kind man, tall, smart, and very handsome. He and his wife seemed to get along well, but so did you and Steve to the public eye. They had two children, one was turning sixteen while the other had just turned nine.

“You alright there, Y/N? You’ve been extra quiet tonight.” The whole table turned to look your way, the newfound attention leaving you slightly embarrassed. You waved them off and luckily, they listened. Truth be told, you didn’t want the liquor they were offering, you wanted the coffee from the shop. More like you wanted an excuse to go, that way you could see Kate again. You hoped it wouldn’t be awkward after the night before, the thought alone making you clench your thighs.

You excused yourself to the bathroom, bringing your phone with you and, right when you closed the door, pulling it out. You went to your contacts list and opened the text icon, typing a quick ‘I miss you.’ to Kate before you could regret it. But you already did. Fuck, you could already see her, laughing at the text with a different girl she brought home. You weren’t doubting her, per se, but she had mentioned before how she’s a ladies' lady, often attracting anyone she wanted into her arms, or even her bed.

A ding brought you out of your disturbance and you looked down, your hopes of it being Kate soon fulfilled as you read the text.

Kate: Come see me then

You: I’m at dinner, but I just needed to talk to you.

You weren’t able to see it, but she was secretly smiling at the messages. She had never been one for relationships, often opting for hookups instead. And when they wanted to be with her, she’d either block them and never speak to them again or say yes, but never actually planning to be anything more than friends with benefits in her mind. She was a heartbreaker, of course, she was. She was destined from birth to have a good time, and how could you have fun with just one person?

Kate: I’m at work rn but I’d way rather be with you

You: You’ve barely even known me for more than a few days, why so interested?

Kate: I could say the same bout u Y/N

Touche. She had you beat at your own game.

There was a knock erupting on the door, making you jump in fright. You were so distracted texting her that you didn’t realize it had been about eight minutes of you just standing in the bathroom. Walking back into the dining table was a bit awkward when everyone knew where you came from, it wasn’t exactly the best place to be hiding for so long.

“So, Y/N,” Sam started, drawing your attention back to him. “Steve said you and him had been talking about having children lately, and we just wanted to say congratulations and we wish you the best of luck in the process. Trust me, I know how long those things can take.” The rest of the table let out half-hearted laughs that you didn’t return. You looked at him with furrowed brows, shaking your head slowly.

“What do you mean? I and Steve haven’t discussed children-” You felt a small tap to your thigh and looked over to see your husband with a deceiving smile. It was clear he had been telling a lie to everyone while you were gone, but you weren’t going to stand for it. You had made it clear that having children would most likely not be an option for you two in the future, and each time he denied it, saying you’d come to your senses soon and that you were the only ones in the town your age without kids, that you were starting to get too old to push the thought away.

“What she means is, thank you for your support-”

“No, what I mean is we’re not having children, Steven.” You could sense the tension around the table as everyone looked at you two for another move. He sighed deeply, grabbing his things along with yours and having you both say your goodbyes to everyone. He gripped your wrist with certainty and practically dragged you to the car, not even caring to open the door for you as he got into his side.

The whole ride was full of silence, so thought it was best to finally be able to respond to Kate after you had left her in the bathroom.

You: Hey, sorry about the wait, someone knocked on the door and I had to go back to the table with the others. Xx

You added the Xs in hopes they’d show off a sense of regret and sorrow for not answering sooner. But she didn’t seem to mind as she answered back in an instant.

Kate: Hey baby I was starting to think u ditched me

You: I’m sorry, love, I had an argument with Steve at the table. Now we’re headed home and I wanted to talk to you before, well, we argue more.

Kate: Who’s Steve?

You must’ve forgotten to mention his name to her in the time you spent getting to know one another. You were slightly worried about the fact that you had a husband, not so much about the cheating aspect but about how Kate must feel. Does it turn her on knowing that she’s taking you away from him? That she’s now considered a homewrecker? Maybe she didn’t like the thought. But she also did seem pretty into it last night on the phone. Whatever she felt, she was good at hiding it.

You: My husband.

Kate: Oh so he’s the asshole?

You chuckled quietly to yourself, afraid to make too much noise when he was sitting right there. You didn’t want him to question you, so you turned the brightness of your phone down in case he looked in the window. And you turned at a perfect angle to which he couldn’t see your phone but he also wouldn’t notice you acting secretive.

You: He’s not an asshole, Kate, he struggles with his own issues and I help him with that.

Kate: He seems like an asshole to me especially since he took u away from me

You: We met eleven years ago, if anything you’re taking me away from him.

Kate: And is that such a bad thing?

You: Of course not, I prefer you way more than I do him.

Before you could look to see what she had said back, Steve was already trying to catch your attention.

“Can you get off that damn phone for one second, Y/N?” You hummed and did so slowly, unbuckling your seatbelt as quickly as possible when you saw that you had arrived home. He tried to stop you, but you were already gone.

Once the door opened and closed behind him, he took off his suit jacket before turning to you. You stood in the kitchen, pot in hand as you poured a cup of tea for yourself.

“If you’re expecting me to apologize, don’t.” He rested his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You suddenly remembered all the times you had gone to Wanda, explaining how attractive he was when he looked mad. Now, you hated more than anything to see him this way. You hated seeing him in general.

“Oh, I do. You think you can go over there and embarrass me like that in front of all of my friends and expect me to be okay with it?”

“And you expect me to sit there, listening to your agitating rants about how busy your work life is, how hard it is for you, and how badly you wish you could quit? Then fucking do it already! And do you expect me to sit there while you make up lies about us having kids when I deliberately told you I don’t want them? God, why can’t you just respect my choice? You’re not the one carrying the child, I am!”

“I want a child, Y/N. This could help me with my addiction, it could even help with us and our marriage.” He tried reasoning with you, but you stood your ground.

“I’m not going to bear a child just because you think it could help you, what about me? What about what I want, Steven?”

“What you want is what’s best for us, and for our family.”

“There is no family, Steve, it’s us. It’s me and you, a marriage, that’s all.” He ran his hands through his hair and, without another word, he walked his way up the stairs and into the bedroom. You took this as your chance to see what Kate had written earlier today.

Kate: Oh really?

You: Yeah. I want to see you this week, how about Monday? I’ll stop by your work and I could even pick you up if you’d like.

You set your phone down and drank the cup of tea in your hands, sighing contently. Even if you had just had a disagreement and shamed yourself in front of your friends and his, things felt okay. You had a feeling that if Kate said yes, you’d be looking forward to that day until it came.

Kate: That sounds perfect. My shift starts at 7 and ends at 4 wbu?

You, once again, found yourself looking up the meaning of her slang, it was most likely just a young person thing. Once you got your result, you reopened her and your messages and wrote out;

You: I’ll be done around 6 PM. Although, I do start at 11 AM, maybe I can stop by your work?

Kate: That sounds great baby girl. See you Monday?

You: Yeah, I’ll be looking forward to it!

You changed her contact name, adding a little heart at the end with a smile. You feared what would happen if your husband saw your phone, and saw any notification from someone with a red heart next to their name. He didn’t even have one, to anyone else his caller ID seemed like it must’ve been a friend, not the person you married.

You entered your room, leaning against the door to let out a sigh before walking to the bathroom. You felt the cold marble under your hands as you leaned over the sink, spitting the toothpaste out of your mouth before rinsing off. When you lied back in bed, lifting the blanket over your body, your husband turned to coddle you. His arms went around your waist and his front rubbed against yours.

“I’m sorry, love, I shouldn’t have forced you like I did. You think I can try and make it up to you?” His dick poked at your backside and you grinned, turning your head to see his now perfectly above yours. His lips pressed against your own, his hands wandering down your frame and stopping at the waistline of your shorts. He pulled them down slowly, his breath a dark, deep shake.

“Your skin feels so soft, so perfect you are.” His cock throbbed with need, a need to return to its true home. Not tucked away in his clothes, but deep inside your cunt, just like he wanted.

“I wanna fucking ravish you, love.” You ran your hand down to his now freed length, stroking him gently as your other went to rub your clit. No matter how badly you were trying to keep your train of thought on him, on your partner, you couldn’t stop thinking about Kate. When you came just picturing her, and once more just from her voice. Steve, while he was an animal in bed, had never once made you feel as hot and bothered as you did from Kate. Even in the little time you knew her and the years you knew him, there was such a difference.

Monday came by surprisingly quickly and you were ecstatic. Kate was too, she had been texting you all morning when she was supposed to be working. You lectured her playfully, and she got a serious lecture from her boss in return.

“What would you like to drink?” The man asked you bluntly, all manners of his being thrown away as his clear exhaustion showed. You gave him a small smile, asking for the lady in the back. He sighed heavily with exaggeration, yelling into the back and soon after you saw the young girl rushing out. She looked annoyed, that was until she saw you. Her face lit up, a quirk of her lips showing as she hurried over to you, rushing out a ‘going on break!’ to her boss and dragging you to the back. There was a small room, but it was more like a closet. You guessed it was a storage unit of sorts, but you didn’t have time to question it as she pushed you against the wall.

“Oh, Katey.” You hummed into her mouth, her lips loosely against yours. She leaned back, biting her lip and staring at you through hooded eyes.

“That’s new, I like it.” You groaned when her lips were placed on your neck, her teeth grazing over the skin ever so lightly. She stopped, looking up at you with a slightly clenched jaw. It was hard to notice, but you picked up on it. You were a therapist, after all, you noticed everything.

“What’s this?” She traced her fingertip over the mark on your neck that you failed to cover up. Foundation was put over it, but she still saw through it, saw through you.

“Uh, nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me, baby girl.” Her fingers rested under your chin, pulling your face up higher so you’d look her in the eyes. She wasn’t some, stupid, naive little girl, she knew what it was, but she was jealous it wasn’t her marks.

“This from your husband?” You nodded with a gulp of fear mixed with lust. She scoffed, licking over the spot and sucking firmly. She was intending to make her own hickeys, whether you wanted them or not.

“Kate, I…slow down a bit, okay?”

“Or what? You gonna punish me?” Your eyes fluttered shut as her hand swept down your body in no time, slipping past the entryway of your pants and into your panties.

“You gonna, tie me up? Fuck me however long you want, not caring for one second about your little Katey’s pleasure, hm?” She was practically speaking to herself as you humped her palm that was rubbing deliciously against your clit. Two of her fingers prodded at your hole and suddenly the remembrance of Friday night came flooding back in. When you had your fingers deep inside of you, pumping in and out of your hole because she had gotten you so wet, so needy. She had this effect on you that you didn’t quite understand, but you loved the chase of it all.

“You’re so wet, baby girl, this all for me?” You nodded your head. “Yeah? Did you greet your husband this morning knowing you were going to get fucked in the supply closet at my work? God, you’re such a slut. How are you going to face him now? Knowing that I’ve fucked you better than he ever has.” Her nose flared in anger, her head tossing back as she humped your thigh that stood out. You were both chasing one another’s highs at this point, and it was so exhilarating.

“Oh, baby, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered into her shoulder, your head now resting on it as a way to feel closer to her.

“I know you are, and that’s the best part.” Your eyes squeezed shut tightly, your lip being bitten into by your teeth.

“Fuck! Fuck, you’ve ruined me.” While the words seemed harsh, she couldn’t help but smile in satisfaction. No time spent with other girls had ever equaled to you, she wondered if it was due to your age. While she was the outgoing type, the type you’d usually see in kids her age, she had always been mature for her age. And for some reason, she had always been drawn to older women like yourself. She blamed most of it on the abandonment her mother often gave her from a young age, or the lack of love that made her have a deep desire to be cherished by someone like you.

“You know, I’ve always been, like, so drawn to older women. In eighth grade, I had the biggest crush on my history teacher. I’d roam the halls just to see her, and I’d skip class just to think about her more, and I would just hope that every time I got detention, she’d be the one watching me. You feel like that. It- I don’t know how to explain it but you just feel like that, like that excitement of having a middle school crush and all your friends would embarrass you or make fun of you for it. You just feel so fun yet calming at the same time. Is that weird?”

“No, I don’t think so. I’ve never been with a woman before if I’m being honest, although if I was, my husband would have probably asked me for a threesome already. I don’t know how, and I don’t know why, but I’m so attracted to you. And it’s not just because you’re so unbelievably attractive, but you’re just so exciting and refreshing, I feel like a teenager again.” Your foreheads were resting against each other’s as you leaned in for a kiss, brushing your lips gently over hers so she’d make the first move, which she did. The two of you progressed into a sloppy makeout with tongues and teeth clashing together, your noses often hitting softly. That was until someone came pounding on the door, demanding that Kate needed to return to her shift as she was way overdue.

“Well, when can I see you again?”

“I don’t know, maybe sometime-”

“I want you to come to my place.” She interrupted, not seeming to care for her coworker waiting outside the door.

“W-what?”

“C’mon, it’ll be fun! You could even spend the night, just like we talked about on the phone.” It was more of a question than an offer, you could hear the slight fear in her voice. You didn’t know what she had to be afraid of, especially when she was with you, in your arms. You raised your hand to her cheek, stroking the skin softly and pecking her lips once more.

“We’ll talk about it more later, alright?” She nodded and, due to her pal's request, returned to where she had to be, tugging the apron back onto her body and walking out of the small hallway in the back. You followed after a moment, keeping your head down in hopes no one would be able to pick up on what just happened.

“Y/N? Is that you?” You heard from the customer’s side of the register. You stopped in your tracks, slowly raising and turning your head to see who it was, hoping it wasn’t anyone you knew too well.

Wanda. Fuck. The suspicion was obvious in her tone but you didn’t blame her, if you had seen her walking out of a no-customers-allowed break room after a woman just left before you, you’d have questions.

She walked over to you, but you were rushing out of the store before she could meet you. She called your name, but you didn’t look back. Kate sighed, hiding her face from the other woman as she watched you leave.

“That lady that just left…why was she back there with you?” She asked Kate, placing her hands on the counter and leaning in close enough to whisper. Your mistress shrugged without thought, writing the name on the cup before continuing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about…Wanda.” She read from the cup and walked to the back to continue brewing the coffee. She pulled out her phone quickly, pressing on your contact and typing out a quick message.

Kate <3: Wanda huh? U got another hoe Idk about?

You: Haha, very funny, Kate.

You entered your office with a deep sigh, the events from earlier still looming in your mind. You were still in such a need for her, you’ve never been so wet.

You walked over to your desk and opened the notebook in hand, trying to distract yourself from the soak in your panties. You could barely focus, there was sweat dripping on your forehead and you had to remove your reading glasses, hands gripping the desk as you tried taking deep breaths. It was so hard not to think about the things you had just done not even an hour ago, and how her fingers felt so well sliding against your walls.

The knock on the door interrupted your brain's fast thinking, but you were grateful. If you didn’t stop, you would’ve been caught grinding against your chair or fingering yourself in hopes that it would feel just as good as Kate's.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” Wanda stood there awkwardly before sitting down on the couch, placing her coffee on the table in front of her and leaning back, her hands clasping together and resting on her knee.

“So, are we going to talk about earlier?” You played dumb in hopes she’d let it go and not mention it anymore.

“What about earlier?”

“Oh, c’mon, Y/N, you’re really going to act like I didn’t see you at the cafe down the street? And not to mention, the way you walked out of the back after another woman?” She took a moment before continuing her words, “Are you- are you having an affair?” You stopped in your steps, the same way you did earlier.

“Wanda, I’m going to need to excuse you from my office, I have a patient.” You opened the door for her and, before she could say anything more, you were closing the door in her face. You hated hearing it, that you being with another woman while still coming home to your partner and acting like it never happened was the definition of having an affair. You wiped the tears before they could arise and called in your patient, trying your best to listen and sympathize as if you weren’t dying inside.

The week went by slowly, painfully slowly. You and Kate had planned to meet Friday night, and it was that night. You haven’t seen her since, but you haven’t been able to stop yourself from texting her nonstop. She didn’t mind though, if anything, she was as obsessed as you.

You two had called twice, it didn’t feel like enough but hearing her voice eased you better than anyone.

Before you could leave and see Kate, you had one more patient. You weren’t exactly dreading it, Yelena was always a sweetheart and you’d never complain about seeing her, but you so desperately needed to touch Kate again.

“So, Yelena, did you complete your homework for the week?” She nodded proudly, and you loved to see it. You smiled, rubbing her knee and thigh softly. She craved the comfort from you, the motherly acts you gave her that she wished to receive from her own.

“That’s great! Here,” You put your hand in the air and she gave you the high-five you were asking for.

“I…well, I cut off contacts with her, but I just was really struggling to press delete for her contact.” You nodded understandably and let a hum escape your lips.

“Alright, I understand. It’s not easy to let go of things you had a connection to, especially when going back on your older self who never thought something like this would happen, where you’d lose the one person you started to love and trust.”

“But I don’t understand why I loved her so much. We, uh, we slept together a few times and went on a few dates, but I could tell she was uninterested in the thought of anything more than sex. She didn’t even love me, but I was practically obsessed with her and I hate myself so much for it, you know?” You handed her a tissue from the box on the table which she accepted with a small ‘thank you’.

“We don’t choose who we love, Yelena. We choose who we keep, and you wanted to keep her, but trust me when I say this, this girl, is not worth ruining yourself over. If she truly cared about you, she’d be fighting for you the way you did for her.” She knew you were right, but it was never easy to let go of someone who had this much of a hold on you. You knew it too, Kate already had a certain hold on you that you couldn’t remove no matter how hard you tried.

“Y/N,” She asked, now at the end of your one hour together. “I was wondering if you could help me do the honors of deleting her number completely.” You agreed and once she gave you her phone, you pressed the contact she gave you. Your eyebrows furrowed at the name and picture, your eyes then following as they widened.

“Shit.” You muttered under your breath and nearly dropped the phone if it wasn’t for your other hand being there. Yelena looked at you weirdly, but you shook it off as cramps.

“S-so, you want me to delete her contact? Like, permanently?” She nodded and her leg bounced nervously. Her hand came to her mouth as she bit her nails, rocking back and forth as she watched you hesitantly press delete. It felt like you were deleting her from your life, but it only made it worse knowing you were seeing your client's ex. Well, if it was even counted as an ex.

“Uhm, I’ll see you next week then?” You said your goodbyes and rushed out nearly as fast as her. You drove with speed, your fingertips bouncing on the driver's wheel anxiously, you were doing all the bad habits you helped others grow out of. Kate was texting you repeatedly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to respond.

When you knocked on the door to the apartment at the address she had given you, it took only ten seconds for her to answer. She was about to say her greetings, until you pushed past her abruptly and walked back and forth in the room.

“Woah, woah, what’s wrong, love?”

“Don’t call me ‘love’, Kate.” She waited for you to stop pacing before approaching you. Tears were streaming down your face and she wiped them against your will.

“Now, are you going to tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess?” When you stayed silent, she sighed heavily.

“You don’t answer any of my texts ‘till I start to think you’re going to ditch me here and then you come bursting in crying, and now you’re refusing to let me in so, please, just tell me what the fuck is going on, Y/N.” She loosely held onto your arms and searched your face for any sign but you gave none.

“I had a client come in today, one of my regulars. She’s been going for about a year-and-a-half now, she’s become like a daughter to me.” You were struggling to finish your sentence. She had led you to the couch now, and she was listening closely as you spoke. She was listening, and that was all you were asking for.

“Her name is Yelena Belova.” You saw the gears switch in her head as she leaned back, letting out a deep breath and resting her head in her hands.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.” You both sat in silence awkwardly, trying to figure out what to say or do in this situation. She suddenly stood up, your eyes watching her body as she walked to the kitchen. She grabbed a bottle of liquor that you couldn’t quite make out from the cabinet and poured the drink in two red, party cups. She walked back to where you sat, handing you the cup and downing hers in one go.

“Are we going to talk about this?”

“What is there to talk about?” You looked at her, then your drink, and then back at her. She leaned down to your level, holding your chin and parting your mouth, grabbing your cup and slowly pouring the substance into your dry mouth. You closed your eyes, basking in the hard taste.

“There we go, good girl, sweetheart.” Her lip quirked up at the way your legs ever so slightly clenched together, almost invisible to anothers’ eye, but she picked up on everything about you. “I thought that was my nickname for you, sweetheart.” You teased her words, seeming to let go of the tense aroma you walked in with. You still weren’t fully relaxed, but the alcohol with a side of Kate helped ease you just a bit.

“Can’t I call you whatever I want? After all, you are mine, right?” She straddled your lap, her arms going around the back of your neck as she leaned in, brushing her lips against yours in a way that had you begging for more. She pecked you gently, but only once, she wanted you to fight for her touch.

“I’m all yours, Katey.” You gulped, feeling her fingertips playing with the hairs on the back of your neck and causing goosebumps to arise to the surface.

“Fuck, I love when you call me that.” You felt her hips start a slow rock on your thighs and rested your palms on her own, trying to guide her. She let you. She let you help guide her to an orgasm, hoping it would be as intense as the other day. She rolled her head back, exposing her neck to the only person in the apartment besides her, you. Your lips found place on the skin, trying your best to leave marks just like she had wished to do to you. She moaned, and the sound alone almost made you cum.

“Does that feel good, Katey?” You heard her, once again, growl at the nickname and smiled, realizing the effect you had on her.

“So good, mommy.” You paused for a moment and soaked in her words, but she didn’t seem to notice as she focused on the pleasure pooling in her panties. While in shock, you had accidently bitten down on her skin, hard. She moaned even louder, and, while you always had a suspicion she was into harsher treatment during sex, you never expected that.

“Oh God, I’m gonna-” She was cut off by her orgasm that came crashing down on her, leaving her body to still momentarily. You admired her body, the marks of your love that were starting to turn purple, the wetness residue on her panties, her blown out face, and her flawless hair. You had an obsession with it, it was just so perfectly silky and had just the right amount of curls to go with the straigtness that was her hair.

“That’s it, cum for mommy.” You played along, watching as her eyes trailed to your own and her lip was taken between her teeth. Your digits toyed with the button to her gray jeans, undoing it slowly and dipping your hand into her undergarments, teasing her clit just enough to get a whine out of her and grabbing her juices on your fingertips. You ran them over her mouth before she parted them, sucking your fingers as if her life depended on it.

“You’re so pretty, Kate..” She smiled around your digits, running her hands down your body and finding your breasts.

“You wanna come to bed with me, baby girl?” You nodded and she quickly got off your waist, dragging you along as she walked backwards to her open bedroom that was only covered by sheets hanging from the ceiling. She kept her hands interlaced with yours, your feet nearly tripping from hers as she landed on the bed with a soft thud, you following soon after her. Her hands continued to roam your body and found your breasts once more. You looked down at her, smiling at the way she seemed completely absorbed by you.

“Take this off…please.” She said, motioning to your shirt. You chuckled, leaning back to do as she said, hearing her breath fall short when seeing you in just a lacy bra.

“You like it?” She nodded. “Good, I wore it just for you.” As badly as she wanted to see your bare tits, she also loved the clothing that you wore just for her. It made her shutter knowing that you woke up this morning and searched through the best clothes, all for her. She could only imagine what was under your dress pants.

“If I’m taking off mine, you need to take off yours.” She quickly took discarded her shirt, tossing it somewhere on the floor and smirking to herself when she noticed your hand close to your crotch.

“You need some help with that?” You breathlessly nodded and, in an instant, she undid your bottoms, leaving you almost completely naked. You guessed her fast and effortless moves were from the many girls she had been with, but knowing you were the only one she wanted to truly keep made your heart warm.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/N.” You could hear the truthfulness in her tone, and it could’ve nearly made you cry. No matter how many times you were complimented for your well-put looks, none of them meant as much to you as hers.

You unclasped your bra, letting her see you in full glory. You were nervous, she had never seen you entirely bare, but you wanted to fully give yourself to her, she deserved that and so did you.

“Katey, I-” You paused, the fear of her judgement filling your mind.

“Go on, baby.”

“I…I want to ride your face.” Your worries only gre with her silence, but they were instantly forgotten when she had started tugging your body forward to rest on top of her face, just like you wanted. But you could tell she wanted it even more than you.

“You won’t hurt me, baby girl, I want this.” You nodded and sunk down onto her, sighing in pleasure as her tongue immediately started lapping at your folds. She was like a starved animal with the way she ate you out, leaving no room for complaints on your end. She moaned at your taste and it shot vibrations through you. You gripped the headboard with one hand, the other playing with her soft hair. The need was too great, and your hips had a mind of their own as you started grinding on her tongue. She kept it in place, letting you take control without care of the pains in her jaw she would receive later on.

“Yeah, let mommy ride that cute fucking face!” Her hips seemed to also have a mind of their own as they started bucking up, her cunt clenching around nothing as your’s clenched around her mouth. Her fingers trailed down to her hole, slipping in with ease as she fucked herself to your sounds. It made her wetter than you could ever imagine, and you internally thanked the neighbor who took a vacation, it would’ve been beyond embarrasing if they heard how loud you two were being. She had probably gotten complaints from others before about the noise, but your mind wasn’t even able to process that thought as the only thing invading it was her. Your girl. Your Kate.

“Oh, Katey, mommy’s gonna cum in that slutty mouth of yours.” You grinned to yourself, letting your hands yank her head into place. You knew she loved the way you spoke along with the way you pulled her hair, she was just a kinky little fuck.

“Shit! I’m cumming, baby!” You practically yelled as the coil in your stomach snapped, causing her face to be coated in your juices. Her tongue continued to lap up any of you that tried to get away, she was greedy for your taste.

Only moments later and you were on your knees sprawled out on the bed, watching as Kate attatched the harness to her waist. She smiled in victory when she did and grabbed something from the closet, hiding it behind her bacn as she slowly trailed back to you.

“So, I was wondering if we could try a little something tonight.” You were worried to hear what it was going to be, but when you saw handcuffs being placed next to your body it eased into excitement.

“Who exactly is going to be the one getting handcuffed?” Without responding she latched them both around your wrists, keeping your hands behind your back and smirking when realizing you were completely at her mercy.

“Wish I could just, take a picture of you like this. Maybe I’d send it to your husband, or your friend, make them realize how much of a slut you are for someone you just met.” She cupped open your mouth, spitting onto your tongue and making you keep it there until drool was rolling down your chin. She grabbed her polaroid camera, snapping the picture of you and letting it rest to dry. She turned you around, giving a few smacks to your ass and snapping another picture, capturing the red hand print.

“I can’t decide whether I want to gag you and make you drool like a brainless slut while I fuck you, or if I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours.” Her strap teased your ass, her fingers playing with your clit and making it difficult to speak. You whined when her tip eased into your tightest hole, only for her to pull out right after.

“We’ll save that for another day. But right now, I wanna fuck this precious pussy.” She eased into you once again, this time not pulling out as your warm walls wrapped around her and tried to force her to stay in place, missing the feeling of being full but needing the feeling of being filled by her even more.

“God, you’re so fucking tight. I wish I had a real dick, then I’d never pull out.” Her tongue licked a stripe up your neck before she left multiple kisses like you had done to her earlier one, only this time she was the one making you cum. Her lips trailed down to your shoulder, leaving a shiver to traven down your spine.

“Awh, does mommy like being fucked like a whore?” Her thrusts started hard, giving you barely any time to get used to her size. It made you whimper seeing her have no mercy, yanking your hair back and making you rest your head in the nape of her neck. Her lips sloppily connected with yours, her tongue playing with your own as she could taste the alcohol on your breath, she knew hers was the same.

She suddenly disconnected herself from you, pushing you to lay flat on the bed as she got on top of you, straddling your back thighs and thrusting herself back into you. The strap rubbed delightfully against her clit and had you yearning for more. The camera that was sat close to you on the pillow was suddenly pulled into her grasp. She aimed it to your face, resting hers next to you and getting the perfect shot of the mascara running down your face along with the beads of sweat dripping down her chin. The lack of AC wasn’t helping her overheating problem, but it only made the sex that much hotter.

“Ah! Kate, I-” She didn’t let you finish before she was speaking, overrulling your voice with her own.

“Does Steve fuck you like this? Can his tiny dick ever come close to mine?” You shook your head quickly, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the bed sheets with all of your might.

“My little whore, you are. You think you could ever be a mommy, hm? I don’t think mommy’s get tied up and fucked by their little girls, you agree?” Her harsh words were turning you on more than you’d like to admit, and she noticed. She could feel the wetness seeping onto your thighs.

“Oh, you disgusting little bitch. You fucking disgust me, Y/N.” She tugged on your hair once more, pulling your face back so she could whisper into your ear. Her mouth enclosed on your earlobe and your legs shook from her statement alone.

“You’re gonna cum already? Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t ‘ya!” Your orgasm was shortlived as she was already trying to pull another one out of you. You were gasping for air, only for your mouth to be filled by her fingers. Her nails were painted black and her rings were still on.

“You’re so fucking annoying with those pathetic whines, you think anyone’s gonna want to hear that shit? You’re lucky I’m even touching you right now, you dirty slut, I could be fucking anyone else but instead I’m listening to your whining.” Your hips were nearly bruising with her harsh pace, but that wasn’t stopping her.

“We’re not stopping until I’ve had my fill, baby girl.” If she had enough money, she would’ve bought a cum-filled strap-on so she could watch it pool out of you. The thought alone was what tipped her over the edge and caused you to release once again. You both came together, her free arm holding your body close to hers in order to feel you. Her lipstick was spread across different areas of your body and now smudged on her mouth. Your makeup was ruined and painted down your face. The marks that you had previously asked Kate not to give you were shining in the dim light of her room, and without even seeing them, you knew they were bad.

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” She undid you handcuffs after pulling out of you, tossing the toys at the end of the bed and pulling you into her, kissing you hard with no room to dissapoint.

“Mommy, huh?”

“It was the heat of the moment.” You both chuckled, your foreheads still resting together as she laid you down. You were both too tired for aftercare, but she promised you she’d do it in the morning. But you hesitated.

“You’re staying the night..right?” You sighed and refused to make eye contact with her, knowing that if you saw the hopefulness on her face it would only make it harder to deny her. But you made the mistake of looking, noticing the growing pout on her lips that made it impossible to resist her.

“I’ll call Steve, tell him I had some work business and was too tired to come home and am staying at Wanda’s.” She smiled, bigger than you’ve ever seen her smile, and hugged you tightly in fear of waking up with you gone. You knew you were in deep shit if you continued this, but you had always told your clients that there were times they’d have to put themsleves first, and this was one of them.

:))

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