#(this is a two bedroom house so her current bedroom is what would be the living room)

[nightlark100]

Consequences (Pt 8)

Thank you for everyone who voted on what the next part should be :)

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After they got Grace situated at the Lauter house, which Steph fortunately still had access to after a lot of hours spent with her father's lawyer Gary, Peter headed back to his apartment. Ted and Charlotte's on again off again relationship was currently going through an on again phase so he knew his brother likely wouldn't be there. In fact, he probably wouldn't be around much until Charlotte decided once again to try and focus on working things out with her husband and the whole cycle started again. Still, it meant that, as long as Peter sent texts to check in, he would be left to his own devices. In the past he would have stayed with Richie, and more recently with Steph (she wasn't handling the empty house too well. Even if her father and her hadn't been close, she was still used to his presence), but he needed some time to try and sort his head out. He felt bad for leaving Steph alone with an emotionally distraught Grace but with everything that had happened, he was at his limit.

So he went home.

He ate a chocolate bar and then took a shower, mentally sorting through his DVDs to pick one he could happily doze off to. He knew that the Lords in Black would want an answer from him at some point but he was pretty sure they couldn't just appear without being summoned. Well... hoped.

Unfortunately, the same rules didn't apply to Wiley, as he found out when he left the bathroom. The man was perched on the foot of his bed, the picture of ease.

"Gah!" Peter tried to cover his chest while also holding onto the towel around his waist. "What are you doing here?"

"Thought I'd pop in and say hello."

"Hello. Goodbye."

"Now there's no need to be rude Petey."

"Don't call me that." Wiley only chuckled in response, his green eyes fixed on Peter as the boy gathered his clothes and headed back towards the bathroom. Peter paused in the doorway. “You'll stay in here until I'm done?”

“Don't you trust me to behave myself?”

“Would you trust you?” Wiley laughed and inclined his head in agreement. Peter slipped back into the bathroom, locking the door behind him. Even though he was fairly certain it wouldn't inhibit his uninvited guest in anyway, it made him feel a little bit safer at least.

Once he was dressed in sweatpants and one of Ted's old tees, he reluctantly returned to his bedroom. Wiley was in the exact spot he'd been left in and as Peter tentatively approached, the man stretched, eyes slitted. There was something strangely feline about his movements, and Peter was reminded of a trip to the zoo he'd once gone on. The jungle cats, the graceful strength that they exuded in every languid movement. And just like a jungle cat, Peter was positive Wiley could tear him apart if he wanted to.

“Feeling a little less… vulnerable?” He asked, raking his gaze over Peter and patting the spot beside him on the bed.

“Can't say I do…” Peter muttered, taking the offered seat. “Is this about that… offer?”

“Smart boy”

“I'm still not entirely sure about… well, everything. I'm not making a decision if I don't know the details of what I'm agreeing to.”

“Ask your questions. Let's see if I can assuage some of your doubts.”

"Why us? Why drag Steph and me into this?”

“Partly punishment. They don't take kindly to people trying to cheat them. And while that was mainly Grace's fault, you two are still a bit of a sore spot.”

“But why can't Grace be the prophet?”

“Well for one thing, I think people are more likely to listen to Miss Lauter than they are Miss Chasity. Just better marketing. And for another…” he smirked to himself. “I'm not sure how long little Gracie will be around for once the baby is born.”

“What…why?”

“That child has a little bit of all of them in it. Including the great devourer. Nibblenephim. Do the math.” He snapped his teeth in a mock bite. Peter felt bile rise in his throat and had to take a few minutes to push back the desire to vomit. “Now that little tidbit? That stays between us. No point in scaring the little lady.”

Peter wanted to protest but he could tell by the look in Wiley's eyes it wouldn't do any good.

“What's the difference between what they want Steph to do and what they want me to do?”

“They want Stephanie to be their prophet. They want you to be their disciple. A prophet is the mouth. A disciple is more like the hands. Or at least that's the way it is on the surface. The true difference is want. Deep down all the prophets want one thing, a thing that they crave but can never quite grasp. For some it's love. For others it's adoration. For your little Steph-A-nie it's belonging. Family. Prophets are all about temptation and desire, it draws them in and sinks hooks deep into their soul. A disciple, well that's something very special. A disciple can want, yes, but it's all secondary. They get to witness the raw power of the lords… they bask in their majesty… and crave its presence.” His voice had grown hushed as he spoke and a hand snaked up Peter's arm, brushing over his shoulder and coming to rest on the curve of his neck. “Every beat of their heart is granted to them by the lords. Every second they are not reduced to atoms is a delight and a mercy. A disciple is beyond life and death, beyond earthly desires. They are merely an extension of something greater. Stripped down to the raw clay and remade by the hands of Gods.” His hand grasped the back of Peter's neck, drawing the boy closer so their foreheads rested against one another. “You will see. You'll have everything you could desire and you'll want none of it.”

“You're insane.” Peter whispered.

The effect was immediate. The hand, once firm but gentle on the back of his neck, grasped at his flesh painfully and he was tugged backwards. With a shove, Peter found himself lying on his back on the floor with Wiley standing over him. Before he had a chance to scramble back to his feet Wiley had knelt down, resting one knee on Peter's chest.

“You really don't wanna wanna wanna wanna wanna fuck with me Petey.” He pressed down, his knee digging in and cutting off the boy's oxygen. “I was a colonel in another life”

Peter pushed weakly at the man's leg but the movement only prompted him to catch both wrists in one hand and hold them still.

“You should be grateful for this opportunity. Without it, you'd spend the rest of eternity in the bastard box enduring your worst nightmares, fears and memories over and over again. You'd go mad before the first cycle was over. Instead you could be part of something so much bigger than yourself…” Wiley moved so he was straddling Peter instead of kneeling on him. Peter sucked in a grateful desperate breath as Wiley fisted his free hand in the boy's hair, pulling up so that Peter was forced to awkwardly arch his back. “All you gotta do is open yourself up to their love…”

“Get off me!”

To his surprise, Wiley did as he asked but instead of fully releasing him, Peter found himself trapped with his back against the man's denim clad chest. One hand still grasped his hair, positioning his head on Wiley's shoulder, while the other arm was wrapped tight around his waist to keep him still.

“Do you see him?” Wiley's voice was soft and husky, his breath warm against Peter's ear.

“Do you see him?”

The room seemed to throb around him, fading into a pulsating blackness that grew with each beat of his heart.

“Do you see him?”

Peter felt like he was drifting in a cold empty seat and despite his fear of the other man, he found himself clinging to the arm at his waist. It was the only thing that felt real, that existed in the strange emptiness that was seeping in.

“Do you see him?”

In the darkness two brilliant spotlights appeared and Peter found himself under the gaze of something monstrous and ancient.

He saw.

---------------

Me: Wiley, behave yourself

Wiley: proceeds to punt Pete across the room and climb all over him

Consequences (pt1)

In which the Lords in Black aren't fully satisfied with Grace's sacrifice (or, the pitfalls of an abstinence only sex education)

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She hadn't wanted to kill them, Grace thought numbly as she stared down at her dirt streaked hands, unable to shake the image of her latest victims from her mind. Yes, she believed that the behaviour she'd witnessed from the young couple, drunk and making out in the park, was dirty and perverse but she didn't want to kill them. And yet when she had gotten near, it was as though she was seized by a terrible hunger and she just couldn't stop herself.

She slipped to the ground, resting her head against the side of her bed and felt tears burning her eyes. It had been a few months since everything with Max... since she had given in to the primal temptations and sacrificed her chastity to send him to hell. She should feel... something. Relief? But her insides felt like they were rotting. She'd done so many terrible things and she didn't even have her unwavering faith to fall back on anymore, not after what she'd seen in the school gym. She didn't know if the colourful figures had been demons or if they truly were gods but it felt like jagged claws had slashed apart the fabric of her soul, leaving jagged doubts behind. Doubts and hunger.

At first she'd been able to ignore it but it had gotten stronger. It would rise in waves, crescendoing down onto her when they peaked and leaving her scrabbling for purchase as her mind crumbled.

Even the brief moments of peace she usually got between the waves had been lost to her now as she found herself battling daily with nausea, sometimes barely making it from her bed to the bathroom in time. She had tried to hide it as best she could but she knew her parents were concerned, had heard them whispering while she lingered in doorways. If it continued much longer they'd want to take her to the doctor, but she knew medicine couldn't help her. Her soul was sick, that was the cause. She would just have to pray harder. Maybe she could ask Stephie and Petey for help? Surely her friends would agree to pray with her when they saw how bad things had gotten.

Struggling to her feet, feeling her stomach twist painfully as she did so, she retrieved her phone from her bedside and sent Steph a text asking to meet up.

Her friends would help. They had to.

[arcandoria]

I'm really tired of not having money to spare for lil' things that would bring me joy but it is what it is

[rafesbangs]

౨ৎ ˖ ࣪⊹ rafe putting brat!lamb!reader in her place after she makes him leave golf for the millionth time

warnings: MDNI ! 18+ ! dom!rafe (duh), mean!rafe ? kinda, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, use of a vibrator, use of the nicknames 'baby' and 'rafey', multiple orgasms, overstimulation, language, basically zero plot just smut. wc: 2.1k

a/n: i swear i'll start writing more, i currently have like 5 other fics all either just started or halfway through writing but ill finish them and start posting moreeee also this is my longest fic as of rn and its entirely smut lmfao

you always got your way, and today was no different. rafe and you had been at the country club all day and the instant you got bored of watching your boyfriend and his friends play golf, you whined until rafe obliged and you hopped in his mercedes to head home.

you sat in his car with your arms crossed, the wind whipped your white mini skirt and hair every which way but you ignored it. you were waiting for rafe to apologise for subjecting you to such boredom.

but he wasn't having it either. you always had to stop a game of golf just as it was getting good, but he never disobeyed you, he loved you. he also loved drinking beer and playing golf with his friends though, so today he had enough.

he sat there in the driver's seat, firm expression on his face as he drove the two of you back to his condo, one of his gloved hands firmly gripping the steering wheel.

you glanced at the veins bulging out of his forearm as he vigurously steered the car but reminded yourself that he didn't deserve anything fun tonight for putting you through another several hour golf session with no one and nothing to entertain you.

as soon as rafe pulled up to his condo he hopped out and slammed his door shut. you could tell he was really angry now too, but what did he have to be mad for? you were out there for hours upon hours before you'd even began to tell him you wanted to leave.

he rounded the car to the passenger's side and swung the door open. "inside, now." he said gruffly, not even looking at you. his head turned towards the front door. you narrowed your eyes at him, arms still crossed as you sat there, irritated.

"get out of the fucking car brat" he calmly, but sternly said. your jaw weakened and you opened your mouth, only to snap it shut again when he looked at you with his piercing gaze.

you grabbed your little purse and stepped out of the car, stepping out of the way before rafe also slammed your door shut. he didn't bother to wait for you, just stalked into his place leaving you to trudge across the gravel driveway in your kitten heels after him.

you were still irked, for sure, but now rafe was angry. the two of you always made the impression that you had him at your knees, you'd say something and he would listen without question. topper and kelce often laughed at him, calling him 'pussy whipped' and he'd roll his eyes, telling them if they had pussy as good they'd be the same way. he never had a bad word to say about you.

however, behind closed doors... specifically his bedroom door, he was in charge. he could tell you to drop to your knees as he fucked with his belt and you'd have your eyes wide and tongue ready. as soon as the two of you were in his house, you turned into whatever he wanted you to be, tonight was no different.

you closed the front door behind you and turned around to find rafe standing there with his arms crossed, same stern look still on his face. you tilted your head down, attempting to give him the puppydog eyes so he wouldn't be so mad, you hated upsetting him.

he walked over to the couch without a word and sat down, the fireplace crackled in front of him sending a spark of light to illuminate the living room a little more, all of the other lights were off. you took your shoes off and placed your bag down.

"come here." he said before deeply breathing in and out. you walked over to the living room and stood in front of him as he sat there, looking up at you with pursed lips. "yes rafey...?" you said quietly.

"sit" he curtly said, and you immediately obeyed, sitting right on his lap. you swallowed the lump in your throat slowly, looking into his mean blue eyes.

his gloved hand connected with your throat harshly, "you think you can just interrupt my golf games like that, every fuckin' time?" he breathed. you whimpered a little, not because he was scaring you in any way but simply because you could feel his bulge under you rising and he knew how his strong arm around your throat turned you on.

his grip softened a little so you could talk, "i just missed you rafey... i got bored-" you protested, your voice quiet. his other hand quickly grabbed at your hip, squeezing roughly even through the glove.

"you bitched 'nd whined n'front of my friends for the last time baby," he pulled your face closer to his until he was breathing at your neck and he lowered his voice, "you can't be doing that shit, hm?"

you nodded vigorously, one of your manicured hands now gently grabbing the hand that is connected to your throat.

"good" he smiled sinisterly, "but baby, m'gonna have to teach you a lesson yeah? i can't just let that shit slide."

"i'm sorry rafey..." you whimpered, his bulge was twitching right under your now soaked panties, the mini skirt left absolutely no fabric in between.

he pulled your face even closer so your lips were almost touching, "i know, you'll show me how sorry you are" he whispered with a grin before releasing your throat and moving your thigh so you were now straddling him. he swiped his fingers under your skirt against your wet pussy and scoffed with a grin, "fuuck, you wanna be punished don't you? you're already so wet and all i did was tell you off"

you looked away to the side brazenly, nearly rolling your eyes because you both knew that rafe knew exactly what he was doing.

"ay, what was that hmm?" he snapped, grabbing your chin, forcing your gaze to focus on him. he adjusted himself underneath you like it was nothing, pushing his ranging boner into your wet cunt even more.

you squirmed a little at the feeling, "your hand on my throat? and we both know i can feel your dick..." you declared with a little sigh. one of his eyebrows raised slightly and he cocked his head to the side before ripping his gloves from his hands, all while holding your gaze on him.

"mmm, i know you like being punished," he reached his hand up to cup the side of your face gently, "and you love it when i punish you with my dick. so please baby, don't act all mad."

you nervously licked your lips, feeling yourself grow wetter and wetter on top of him, you knew he could feel it too. it would be a miracle if there wasn't a huge wet patch on his pants where your pussy met his dick by now. his hands rested on your hips now, "good girl."

without a word he flipped you over onto your back with a grin, one hand holding you at your waist while the other was already pulling the wet fabric to the side and rubbing your slit slowly.

"rafe.." you said, breathless, you didn't think you could handle being teased for any longer now. he just grinned as he kept torturing your clit and began palming at your tits, your hips starting to buck while he kept going before finally plunging two fingers deep into your pussy.

you whined in pleasure as he pumped them in and out, his pace growing faster and faster while you just got increasingly wetter. he was getting painfully hard at the sweet sound your wet pussy was making as he fingered you. "ugh fuck, rafe please-" you moaned, all he did was smile in satisfaction at how he was making his girl feel.

he finally relented and pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, but then brought a tie from the floor and grabbed your wrists, tying them together above your head. "punishment's not done baby, i'm still angry with you..." he said lowly, looking at how wet he made you as you dripped down onto the leather couch.

he then reached for the floor again and brought out a vibrator with a smirk. your eyes went wide and you tried to sit up, but he just pushed you back down onto the couch again. "i just want your dick, please rafey" you begged but he just shook his head, still smiling as he switched it on and brought it down to your clit.

you immediately yelped at the sensation and couldn't help but become a moaning mess. rafe was having fun, stroking it up and down your wet folds as he torturously fucked you with a single finger, slowly.

"f-fuck you," you moaned, writhing against his finger and the vibrator, going through possibly your forth or fifth orgasm. rafe just continued to play with your pussy, now using his tongue on you which only made you lose your mind more. he was moving the vibrator across your nipples now, eating you out sloppily like a man starved.

"i hate you, oh god... rafe stop! please" you groaned, your entire body twitching. you had lost count of how many times this man had made you cum at this point, you'd actually lost all sense of thought. he just sat there, still simulating you.

a pornographic moan easily bounced off the walls and rafe grinned up at you proudly, pleasepleasepleaseimsorryitwonthappenagain" you beg, tears pecking at your eyes from the overstimulation. rafe just shook his head, watching you cum on his fingers again, "what're you talkin' about baby? you can clearly keep going..."

"rafe! fuck- please just fuck me" you whined, your body tensing up, awaiting yet another orgasm when he finally tears the vibrator away from your swollen clit.

he scoffs at the sight of you, all fucked out and heaving, "okay." he unties your hands and pulls you to sit you up, you nearly go limp and fold over but he holds you up, cupping your face. you were stained with tears but he thought he'd never seen you look so sexy, in an instant his lips were connected with yours.

he was hungrily kissing you, finally pulling your bunched up clothes off of you and palming at every part of your body, just completely feeling you up which only made your pussy ache again. you pulled his shirt off of him and continued kissing him, now pushing his back down onto the couch as you devoured him under you.

his hands slid off of your body and onto his pants as he started pulling them off. now in his boxers you couldn't help but mischievously smile, straddling him as you continued to kiss him but rutting against his aching bulge. you thought he must be in so much pain, having been completely clothed and untouched for the entire duration of your punishment.

he groaned as you grinded against him and gripped at your hips so ferociously you knew you'd have bruises there in the morining, but you kept going. he parted from your lips and pulled his cock out of his boxers, the tip all red and swollen, leaking precum. you licked your lips as you measured his huge dick against your stomach, it very clearly going to the top of your belly button.

you wasted no time in lowering yourself onto him. the feeling of him slipping into your tight pussy nearly caused him to cum right there and then but he held back.

"holy fuck... holy fuck y/n." he breathed deep, furrowing his brows as he grunted with every minor move until he was entirely inside you to the hilt. you began rocking back and forth and his body was shaking from the amount of force it took to hold back cumming inside your tight pussy immediately.

you moaned as you moved, "so big, god, so so big."

"fuck- baby... ah shit, m'gonna cum-" he grunted, his grip on your hips tightening. you grinned mischievously as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to handle the pleasure. "cum inside me rafey" you whispered, leaning down in his ear. he immediately obeyed, thick hot ropes of cum filled your insides as you continued to rock back and forth. feeling his entire cock drained by your pussy made his head spin, he was moaning louder than he had before, breathing heavily.

you whined in pleasure as you rode him through your final orgasm as well, crumpling on top of him.

"good girl" he grinned, panting as he tucked stray hair behind your ear.

[reticent-writer]

Okay The Hashira taking care of a half human half demon baby? Like the baby can survive on human food and animals and are repulsed by human blood. Like the babies basically are found trying to explore new things like Nezuko in a way

Demon slayer masterlist Demons with baby reader

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　

Shinjuro held you in the air and examined you. Kyojuro left you with his father while he and senjuro went to the market.

Leaving you with a former Hashira wasn't a good idea in hindsight but who would kill a child.

"Half human half demon huh?" He muttered to himself as he watched you move in his arms.

He lowered you to where you were nestled on his chest and he laid back.

Shinjiro and kyojuro came back to see you and their father asleep on the floor in your room.

-------

Giggles could be heard in the Tengen ousehold as it was dinner time.

Tengen was rolling on the floor with you as the girls made dinner.

"Hope the both of you worked up an appetite." Hina came in giggling at her husband on his back with you on his stretched-out feet.

"Ahh lord Tengen you have to be careful with them. They're just a child." Suma came in fusing over to pick you up

-------

Obanai didn't know how to take care of a child so he went to the closest person he knew, Mitsuri.

"Aww look how cute Obanai they eat human food." She gushed as she feed you.

Obanai watched in adoration as he couldn't help but think about how good she is with kids (people in general)

"Cool." Such a shallow response that held back everything he actually wanted to say.

If only he could tell her. (😭)

-------

"What am I supposed to do with you." Sanemi muttered as you crawled all over your temporary bedroom (a small room he didn't know what to do with).

"what do you eat?" He kneeled down to your height. You crawled up to him, using his knees to try and stand.

He poked your stomach causing you to lose balance and fall. You stared up at him, He stared down at you.

you started to huff.

'oh no' the thought 'they're gonna cry'

and cry you did. You screamed your lungs out as he tried everything to calm you down. He even tried to feed you his blood, which only made you scream louder.

He got you to calm down by giving you Ohagi. Turns out you love it almost as much as he does.

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"Time to go to bed Y/n." Giyuu said as he watched you play with your toys for like two hours.

You turned to him before giggling. Unfortunately for Giyuu, you knew how to run. You stood up and got ready for an unwanted game of tag and hide n seek.

"Don't even try, It's time for bed." Giyuu also got ready as this isn't the first time this happened.

In fact, this happens most nights and Giyuu is always the winner.

You ran out of the room with Giyuu close behind you. You rounded the corner at full speed. Too much speed. You hit the wall. Giyuu was quick to pick you up.

"This is why we don't run in the house." He comforted you by rubbing your head and bringing you to your room. You were asleep in his arms as he laid you down.

------

All Muichirou wanted to do was train but since you were assigned to him his attention was all on you.

Currently, the 2 of you were having a staring contest as you both ate. You copied his movements, and he would just watch.

You never cried, screamed, or made much noise. You and Muichirou got along great.

He brought you to every Hashira meeting and he let you do your own thing.

-----

"Bu" you called to Shinobu from the pin she put you in. It was the only word you could say.

She looked up from her work over to you. You were standing holding on to the bar of the pin.

"Ah someone finally awake." She set her work aside and went to check on you.

"Bu Bu" You squealed as she picked you up.

"I'm here. I'm here."

You were the only reason she never worked herself to death.

✿✼:*ﾟ:.｡..｡.:*･ﾟﾟ･**･ﾟﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　

[sluts4matt]

okay, i feel like this could be crazy? please take this any direction you want. like reader is at a party (like tara’s party) and her and chris get in a fight over a photo that was posted during the party. this has been on the mind, and im just not the correct person to execute this idea. but please take this any direction and change anything, please and thank you! i love your work please keep posting 🫶🏻

JEALOUS

pairing: rough!dom chris x sub!reader

summary: a picture of you a little to close to another guy at tara's 1 milli party is posted on the internet. chris does NOT like that at all and has to teach you a lesson.

warnings: SMUT, rough sex, spanking, degradation, daddy kink, dirty talk, oral sex (male receiving), unprotected sex, light bondage, blindfolding, choking, orgasm denial, pet names, slight dumbification (because i love it so much ), light fluff at the end

word count: 1652

author's note: i really hope i did your request justice @lovelysturniolos i HAD to feed into everyone saying chris and tara would look cute, i'm sorry, sue me. kind, constructive criticism welcome.

"what the fuck is this?" your boyfriend, chris, asks holding his phone to you. his tone wasn't an amused one which was very unlike him. "what?" you mumble, furrowing your eyebrows as you bring yourself closer to his phone.

the two of you had the house to yourself for the evening, and currently sat on the couch in the living room. you looked at the picture, you were wearing your sparkly black dress, the fabric hugging you just right.

you hand was placed on some guys arm. why? you were absolutely hammered and ended up trying to make chris jealous out of your own jealousy. he had been close to tara almost all night, and while his attention was on you, part of you seemed to think he'd rather pay it to her.

you and chris had ended up losing each other within two hours of being there. but when you found him, and he was talking to tara with tha big ass grin of his. the one he always gives you. you couldn't stand it.your hand immediately found the guy nearest you, batting your eyelashes at him while you giggled at the jokes he told.

all in hopes that chris would look over and see, but he never did.

guess a picture was taken though, so you'd still technically be getting what you want. "who the fuck is that guy? huh?" chris demands. "honestly chris? couldn't tell you," you shrug. "but it was someone who was nice to me while my boyfriend was off with another chick," you mumble the last bit, but chris catches it.

the dry chuckle that leaves his mouth sends shivers down your spine, and the way he was staring at you made your stomach feel tight. "i don't give a fuck about tara," he says.

"really? coulda fooled me," you retort. chris' jaw clenched, and he stood up from the couch, grabbing you by the arm and pulling you off the couch.

"where are we going?" you ask as you try to keep up with his large strides. "i'm gonna fuck some sense into you," he states. "and then, we're going to have a little chat about who the fuck you belong to," he tells you, opening the door to his (your shared) bedroom and shoving you inside.

"chris-" "strip," he says, cutting you off. his voice was stern, and left no room for arguments. he walked over to the closet, grabbing the silk ties and blindfolds that sat in a box on the top shelf. you stripped your clothes, watching chris as he got into the box.

"hands behind your back," he commands, walking over to you. "chris-" "shut the fuck up," he snaps. "unless you're gonna say the safeword, please, shut the fuck up," he repeats. you nod your head.

he places the tie over your eyes, and brings your hands behind your back, tying them together. "get on the bed," he tells you, smacking your ass as you walk towards the bed.

you climb onto the bed, sitting in the middle of the mattress. "chris, i-" you're cut off by chris' hand covering your mouth. "if you're gonna be using that mouth, it's gonna be for something useful ma," he tells you. "so, either stop talking, or put that fucking mouth to work," he says.

you nod your head, and chris removes his hand from your mouth. "yes daddy," you mumble. "what was that baby?" he asks, knowing he heard you. "yes daddy," you speak up, earning a satisfied hum from chris.

"that's more like it," he says, taking his shirt off, and kicking his sweats and boxers off. he grabs a pillow from the head of the bed, and puts it under your knees.

"open your mouth," he tells you. and you obey, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out. chris grabs the base of his cock and guides it into your mouth.

you swirl your tongue around the tip, kitty licking it. chris grabs the back of your head, and pushes himself into your mouth until he hits the back of your throat. "fuck, your mouth feels so fucking good ma," he says, moving his hips and thrusting into your mouth.

he pulls himself out, and smacks your face with his cock a few times. he rubs his tip along your lips, smearing pre-cum all over them. "such a pretty fucking face," he muses, shoving his cock back into your mouth.

he groans as you take him back in, hollowing your cheeks as you suck him off. "fucking choke on it baby," he groans, pushing your head further down until his cock hit the back of your throat, over and over again.

you gag on his dick, tears beginning to leak from your eyes, dampening the fabric of the blindfold. saliva dripped down the corners of your mouth.

"fuck, i'm close," he moans. you move your head faster, bobbing your head, gagging and choking on his cock. "shit baby, that's it. gonna cum down that pretty fucking throat," he moans.

he pushes your head down again, and holds you there, letting his cum paint the inside of your throat. "fuck, fuck," he breathes, his chest heaving. he wraps your head in a makeshift ponytail around his hand tugging your head back.

he admires the way the black blindfold contrasts against your tan skin, "so pretty baby, too bad you thought you had to make me jealous to get my fucking attention." he says.

he takes his cock from your mouth and wipes the remaining saliva and cum off on your cheek. "now, i'm gonna fuck some sense into you, and after that, we're gonna talk about why it is you're my fucking girl," he says, pulling you up and positioning you how he wants.

his favorite position had your ass up in the air and your cheek pressed against the mattress. he rubbed your right ass cheek before raising his hand and landing a hard smack down on it. the sound echoed in the room, and the stinging sensation had you moaning because of the pain and pleasure.

"this ass, mine," he says, landing a few more harsh slaps down. "this pussy, mine," he continues, sliding his cock between your folds and pressing the tip at your entrance. "mhm, fuck," you gasp, as chris pushes himself into your cunt.

his right hand finds its way in-between your shoulder blades, shoving you down further as his left hand has a steady grip on your hip. his hips smack against your ass, the sound echoing throughout the room, accompanied by his groans and grunts and your loud moans. "i wanna hear how good my cock is," chris tells you.

"fuck daddy, so big. feels so fucking good," you moan, gripping the silk fabric tied around your wrists. "so fucking tight, ma," he says, his right hand sliding down to grab the fabric tied around your wrists.

he tugs your body back, forcing himself deeper into your cunt, causing your breath to catch in your throat. his hips move a million miles an hour, chasing his release, choked whines left your mouth that had you gasping for air, drool running down your chin.

"so fucking pathetic, look at ya," he chuckles, watching as you come undone underneath him. "such a whiny bitch, can't even speak." he tugs on the tie again, pulling you up. his left hand slides up to wrap around your neck, squeezing lightly.

"gonna cum daddy," you babble, your high approaching. "no you're not," chris says, denying you of your orgasm. he pushes you back down, pounding into you with no mercy, "chris," you whine. "wanna act like a slut to get my attention, gonna get treated and used like one."

"fuck daddy," you whine, the knot in the pit of your stomach becoming tighter. "chris, please, need to cum," you beg. he moves his left hand up to grip the hair at the base of your skull, "don't you fucking dare," he threatens.

"gotta earn it baby," he tells you. "how do you earn daddy's permission?" he asks.

"please," you moan, unable to think of anything else to say. "not what i'm looking for," he says, bringing his hand down on your ass, leaving a red handprint on your skin. "fuck," you hiss. "daddy," you cry. "please, please, fuck," you beg.

"that's more like it," he grunts. he leans over your body, his left hand reaching up to hold the headboard while his right stays in the same place.

"go on then, cum on my cock," he whispers, biting down on your earlobe, tugging on it. his words send you over the edge, and you come undone underneath him. your pussy spasms around his cock, squeezing and clenching, milking his orgasm from him.

he fills your cunt up, coating your walls white. his thrusts become slower, and the grip he has on your body is softer, until he stops altogether, and pulls out of you.

"good girl," he praises, running his thumb along your entrance, catching the mixture of both of your orgasms and bringing it to his mouth. he sucks the digit clean, humming at the taste.

he lays down next to you, pulling you into him, "now, who do i belong too?" he asks, holding you close. "me," you answer. "mm, and who do you belong too?" he asks, kissing your head. "you," you reply, leaning up to kiss him.

"good girl," he hums, placing a kiss on your nose. "want me to doordash panda express princess?" he asks, nuzzling his face into the conjunction of your jaw and neck. he peppered small kisses making you giggle. "nap first," you tell him.

he nods his head, grabbing the blanket and draping it over the both of you. he presses a final kiss to your temple, whispering, "i love you baby," before the two of you drift off.

tag list:

@sturnioloa @junnniiieee07

[kisses4reid]

Would you write girl dad Spencer where his daughter has Like a nightmare or a bad day and she’s just clinging to Spencer for comfort all day and him being the best dad ever.

I couldn’t find you guidelines please ignore if you uncomfortable dear 💋

cuddles | ·˚ ༘ spencer reid ,,

pure fluff, domestic, no warnings (correct me if wrong)

a short start to my return, thank you for the req. sorry it’s so late 💋

Spencers long fingers stop their movements against the thin pages of the large book he was currently occupied with, shutting the spine only a second later when he hears cries emitting from the smallest room in the house.

He rushed down the hallway, taking his glasses off in the movement and sliding them onto the neckline of his shirt, before pushing on the florally designed door.

Inside, with her head in her knees and body shaking with sobs, was you and your husbands daughter.

“Hey, Cece, what’s up?” He sat beside his toddler on the pale purple bed sheets and instinctively wrapped her in a bear hug. She unraveled herself and instead crawled her way into his lap - not leaving the embrace of course.

Celia started talking, but instead a wave of cries interrupted. Spencer shushed her gently, rubbing a warm hand up and down her back. He didn’t speak, he didn’t try to force an explanation out of her, he just waited. Celia removed her arms from around his neck and took some deep breaths - a mechanism she had learnt from you.

“I-I had a b-bad dream.” Tears continued rolling down, and Spencer’s heart broke. Every time she cried he felt like crying as well, but he couldn’t really protect her from her own brain. That’s also something she inherited from you, the brain attacking itself. In a way, that made Spencer more fit to deal with it.

“Oh, my baby,” he looked into her eyes and smiled comfortingly, “do you want to talk about it or just ‘feel’ about it?”

“Well,” she hiccuped and wiped one of her eyes, the small conversation calming her down. “I don’t really remember it b-but I do remember it make my h-heart go… boom boom.”

Spencer nodded and adjusted his grip so her head rested against his chest. Her bed was tiny, but if he bent his legs, he could just fit enough to stay with her. “I’m sorry your heart went boom boom,” she smiled a little, which made him do the same, “do you want to go to sleep again, or maybe come watch a show outside?”

That’s how you found them that afternoon. The sun was setting, a now dull brightness encasing the living room, and pulling your attention to the two figures asleep on the couch. Spencer, sprawled out, and Celia doing the same, only on his chest. Now that’s what she got from Spencer.

You smiled, dropping your work bag and sighing in contentment. You decided to leave them asleep, even going as far as to take your shower and into your pyjamas. If you woke them up, Spencer would’ve told you that you should’ve taken advantage of the silent household. Maybe for once you could make that decision yourself.

“Mummy?” You exited the bedroom back into the living room and smiled widely.

“Hi my baby.”

She climbed over Spencer, pushing off of his chest to get to you, and ran into your arms. The tall man groaned and rolled to be on his stomach, head lifting to see what the disturbance was.

The disturbance made him smile.

taglist (open!!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover @c-losur3 @littlelearningbrat @khxna

[barcaatthemoon]

the high life || barcelona x teen!reader ||

You get caught after accidentally eating an edible at a party.

"Where is (Y/n)?" Vicky was losing her mind. The only way that Aleia had agreed to let either of you go to this party was if you watched out for each other, and Vicky had lost you nearly an hour ago. One moment the two of you were dancing, and the next, Vicky turned to see you had vanished. That wasn't like you, so Vicky was really starting to freak out the longer that you were gone. "(Y/n)!"

"Vicky, hi." It was obvious that something was very wrong with you. Vicky supported you as she led you outside and away from all the commotion of the house party. Someone would be by any moment now to pick the two of you up, and Vicky hoped that it was someone cool. Vicky didn't know what you could have taken or been given, but it was obvious that you were on something.

"Oh god, I am so dead," Vicky groaned.

"No you're not, we're so alive Vicky. We're alive, and it's beautiful!" you shouted. Vicky facepalmed, wondering if this was how Alexia felt constantly babysitting the younger girls. You were a couple of months younger than Vicky, but a whole year behind her in school. Still, the two of you were close, often being referred to as the "terror twins" of the team.

"We are both so cooked. Hey, (Y/n), I need you to do me a favor and calm down, please. Someone is coming to pick us up, and you don't want to get in trouble, do you?" Vicky asked you. You still seemed to be off in your own little world until you saw Frido's car pull up. Vicky supposed that she could work with Frido, it was better than Alexia. Anybody was better than Alexia with the state you were in, or at least that was what Vicky originally thought.

"Fridolina, oh my god, you're so pretty. I hope that I get a girlfriend as pretty as you one day," you said as you threw yourself into her passenger seat. Vicky sat silently in the backseat, hopeful that Frido wouldn't question her. "If I was older, do you think I could be your girlfriend?"

"(Y/n), shut up!" Vicky hissed from the backseat. You turned to glare at her, very unhappy with how shitty of a wingwoman she was being for you. "Please take us home now."

"Is there anything that you two want to tell me?" Frido asked as she glanced between you and Vicky. Vicky shrunk back shamefully, unsure of how to explain that you had disappeared during the party and Vicky had only just found you in your current state. "Did either of you eat or drink something you weren't supposed to? Perhaps smoked something, even?"

"I'd never smoke, it's bad for you. I just had one of the little snacks they had set out. I'm not a professional, but that was one shitty baker. Those cookies tasted like dirt," you rambled. Frido's eyes widened as she looked solely at Vicky. "Oh, wait, I saved you one. You were dancing for a long time, but then I came back to the dance floor and you were gone. Here you go."

"Nope, I'll take that," Frido said as she snatched the cookie from your hands. You frowned and pouted at the Swede, who seemed unphased. Vicky knew then and there that the two of you were not going back to Vicky's for a sleepover. Vicky was dropped off at her house, but you went home with Frido, who made Vicky promise to come into practice early tomorrow for a meeting.

…

"No, surely you cannot be talking about my Chiqui," Mapi scoffed as Frido filled her and Ingrid in on the situation. You were still fast asleep in Frido's bed. It had been a hassle to say the least to get you to sleep last night. Vicky hadn't taken anything, so after a phone call with Alexia, the other girl had been let off the hook for the time being. You, on the other hand, were practically dead to the world still. "Jesus Christ."

"Mapi, what are you doing?" Ingrid asked as her girlfriend stormed towards Frido's bedroom. Just as Mapi began to make her way down the hallway, you walked out of Frido's bedroom. You looked absolutely miserable, experiencing your very hangover of any type. Your head was pounding, your body felt exhausted, and your mouth had never been so dry before.

"Where do you think you're going you little junkie?" Mapi asked as you just pushed past her. You continued to ignore her as you poured yourself a glass of water and walked into the living room. You sat down on the couch and tried to curl into yourself, but Mapi was relentless with you. "I tell your Mami that I'll look after you, and this is what you do? Just you wait until Alexia gets over here, you are in so much trouble! I cannot believe you would do such a thing. I mean, you are supposed to be representing your town. What kind of example are you set-,"

"Enough, shut up!" you shouted. It was immediately obvious that was absolutely the wrong thing to do. Mapi's fists balled up as she just stormed out of Frido's apartment. Ingrid looked torn between chasing after Mapi and giving her space. Frido looked at you with a disappointed look, one that made your chest hurt just as badly as Mapi's words had.

"She was just upset because she cares about you," Ingrid said coldly. You quickly looked between the both of them before you got up and tried to run off. You made it all the way to the parking lot before you saw Mapi and Alexia talking to each other. You tried to turn around, but Ingrid was right behind you. There was nowhere for you to go, so you just gave up and sat down on the sidewalk.

"Ah, there she is! I bet you thought that you could make a quick break, didn't you?" Immediately, Mapi was in on you again. This time, you weren't left to be yelled at and berated. Much to your surprise, Alexia was the one who stepped in to stop things.

"Hey, calm down. Go with Ingrid, and let me talk to her. She's not going to say anything with you going at her like that," Alexia reasoned. Mapi huffed and puffed, but went to Ingrid anyway. "I hear you had a very adventurous night."

"It was an accident. How could I have known what was in those cookies?" you asked. Alexia sighed as she looked down at you. For the first time in a while, you looked just like you had at your first practice with the senior team. You had done a lot of growing up, but Alexia was reminded how young you really were. You were young, but didn't have the chance to be a normal teenager and make mistakes like everyone else.

"Like you said, it was an accident. You're smart, and you know what's at stake here, so this isn't something you would do on purpose in season. Maria cares about you, and she's scared of what could happen if the club decides to drug test you. You'll be looking at a suspension at best, but you know that already."

"Yeah, I do," you confirmed. Alexia sighed as she glanced at the lobby where Ingrid and Mapi seemed to be fighting. "I can just go back home, I guess. I've caused enough problems already. I don't deserve to be here."

"Yes, you do. You've worked hard, even more than any of us really know. So, when the time comes, you'll take your punishment and work on resecuring your spot. There will be apologies and lots of hard conversations, but none of us want to see you go, not even Maria," Alexia reassured you.

…

"Why don't you go over there and talk to her?" Ingrid asked. Mapi had been watching you for weeks. Your suspension and probationary period were over, and you had yet to even attempt to speak with Mapi yet. It had been radio silence between the two of you since that day at Frido's apartment. Ingrid was tired of it, especially since she could see how badly it was hurting both of you.

"Because she doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. I yelled at her, made her feel like nothing. I've never apologized," Mapi said. She felt an almost overwhelming amount of shame every single time that she looked at you. It felt impossible to go over and talk to you. "She won't even look at me. I lost my Chiqui."

"Don't tell me that you're afraid of a 17 year old girl," Ingrid laughed. Mapi sputtered and stammered, but made no attempt to argue with Ingrid. She was afraid of you, afraid that you wouldn't accept any apologies that she could muster up. Mapi had been so mean to you that morning, and she would have kept going if you hadn't stopped her. She didn't even mean any of it, she was just scared and angry.

"She is almost 18 now," Mapi grumbled. Ingrid rolled her eyes and whistled to get your attention. There weren't that many people in the gym left now, just the three of you.

"Chiqui, Maria wants to talk to you," Ingrid said. She walked over to the door and blocked it, meaning neither of you could leave until you talked to each other.

"I am sorry for yelling at you. I don't think you're a disappointment to your home or your Mami," Mapi started. She seemed a bit lost, like she was completely out of her depth. "You made a mistake and that's okay. I've made mistakes, and I should have shown you the same kindness that I had been shown. One day, you might be in my position, and trust me, it's easier to forgive than hold a grudge."

"I'm sorry that I yelled at you," you apologized. Mapi didn't even wait for you to finish before she was rushing over to hug you. You let her pick you up off the ground, even if she was hugging a little too tight. "Put me down now, please."

"Bagheera misses you, so you need to come back with us immediately," Mapi said. You knew that it wasn't just Bagheera who missed you, especially since Ingrid had been bringing you over secretly while Mapi worked on her little passion projects and hobbies. Bagheera had been seeing you at least once a month, but Mapi hadn't really spoken to you in almost three monhs, and it had been driving her crazy.

"I'll have to ask Alexia," you told her. Mapi brushed it off, already having been told by Alexia to fix things with you countless times. The team didn't feel right without Mapi's influence on you.

[p0orbaby]

Do Not Disturb (Unless You're Drunk and Nosy)

summary: privacy? you wish

warnings: suggestive, alcohol, literally everyone being a little shit, angry ale (hot)

a/n: may or may not be inspired by real events…

word count: 1.6k

-

You always thought getting walked in on would be, you know, mortifying. Like, your face turns tomato red, you start stammering, and then you spend the rest of your life avoiding the person who caught you with your pants down—literally. But it turns out that, in reality, it’s way worse than that.

Here’s the thing: Alexia Putellas is perfect. You know this, because you’ve spent an unhealthy amount of time cataloging her perfections. Her perfectly toned legs that could crush a coconut. Her perfectly sharp jawline that could carve Mount Rushmore. Her perfectly soft lips that could silence an entire stadium with a single kiss. And when you’re drunk at a friends house party, it’s easy to forget that this perfection isn’t something you should casually indulge in right now, in a random upstairs bedroom, while everyone else is downstairs playing beer pong and comparing their World Cup tattoos.

But when Alexia grabs your hand and drags you away from the chaos, her eyes all dark and dangerous, any rational thought you have dribbles out of your ears like last week’s gossip. So here you are, in this bed—well, on this bed, because you didn’t even make it all the way under the covers—desperately trying to remember how to breathe while Alexia’s tongue is doing things that would make a priest reconsider his career choices.

You’re about to reach the kind of nirvana people write songs about when the door slams open. Not opens—slams. As if someone was just waiting for the right moment to ruin your life.

“Oh my God,” someone says in a tone that suggests they’ve just witnessed a murder, except, of course, that would be preferable.

Alexia’s head snaps up so fast you’re surprised she doesn’t get whiplash, and you have about two seconds to see the wild panic in her eyes before her entire body goes rigid like a cat that’s just been sprayed with water. She’s still on top of you, which would be hot if you weren’t currently wondering whether you’re legally obligated to register as a sex offender for being caught like this.

And who’s standing there in the doorway? None other than Jenni, who you’re pretty sure was voted “Most Likely to Show Up Uninvited” in high school. She’s holding a half-empty bottle of tequila in one hand and a phone in the other, like she’s been documenting the worst possible moments of the night, and this one’s going to top the list.

“Holy shit,” Jenni says, blinking as if she’s trying to reboot her brain. It doesn’t work, because the next thing out of her mouth is, “Is this a private party, or can anyone join?”

That’s it. You’re going to die. This is how you die. Not from the embarrassment but because Alexia is going to murder you both. You can see it in her eyes. She’s doing some very fast maths in her head, and it ends with Jenni’s body floating down a river somewhere.

“Close the door,” Alexia snaps, and it’s the first thing she’s said in what feels like hours. Her voice is sharp enough to cut glass. Jenni just stares at her for a moment, then at you—still half-naked, because of course you are—and then at Alexia again, like she’s debating whether the smart move is to leave or to stay and further ruin your life.

But of course, Jenni’s never been one for smart moves.

“Oh, no, no, no,” she says, waving her tequila bottle around like it’s a magic wand that’s going to make this situation less awkward. “This is gold. I’ve got to tell the others.” She turns around and yells down the stairs, “Hey, guys! Get up here, quick!”

You want to scream. You want to cry. You want to crawl under the bed and maybe live there forever with the dust bunnies and whatever sock the last person to use this room lost. But you don’t get the chance to do any of that, because Alexia has now flipped the fuck out, and she’s off the bed and across the room in a flash, slamming the door shut with enough force to rattle the windows.

“Are you insane?” Alexia hisses at Jenni, who looks like she’s genuinely surprised that Alexia isn’t finding this whole situation hilarious. “Do you have a death wish?”

Jenni, who’s clearly never learned to read the room, just grins, leaning against the doorframe like she’s auditioning for the role of “World’s Biggest Pain in the Ass.” “Hey, don’t get mad at me. You’re the one who decided to get frisky in someone else’s house”

You’re still lying there, half-dressed, your shirt tangled up with some lacy thing that definitely belongs to Alexia, watching the two of them bicker like you’re not even here. You could say something, of course. You could try to diffuse the situation, maybe crack a joke or two, but that would require actual brain function, and right now, all you’ve got is the mental equivalent of elevator music.

Alexia’s about to bite Jenni’s head off—probably literally—when, as if the universe wasn’t satisfied with your current level of humiliation, there’s a knock on the door.

“Jenni? What’s going on?” You recognise that voice. It’s Mapi, followed by a snicker from Patri and what sounds like Ingrid trying and failing to shush them. Great. Just great. Now you’ve got an audience.

Before anyone can react, Jenni swings the door open with the enthusiasm of someone who’s about to introduce a sold-out concert, and your teammates spill into the room like they’ve been rehearsing this all night.

“What the—” Mapi starts, then stops dead when she sees you, then Alexia, and then your clothes all over the floor like some kind of chaotic breadcrumb trail. Her eyebrows shoot up so high they practically disappear into her hairline. “Oh, wow”

There’s a moment of silence that’s so uncomfortable you could bottle it and sell it to masochists. You’re pretty sure you’re about to melt into the bed and become one with the mattress. Meanwhile, Patri has the audacity to wolf whistle, which earns her a glare from Alexia that could stop a freight train.

“So,” Ingrid says, doing a terrible job at hiding her amusement. “This is…unexpected”

“Unexpected?” Mapi echoes, looking at Ingrid like she’s just suggested that the earth is flat. “This is fucking hilarious”

Jenni’s practically doubled over with laughter now, leaning on Mapi for support, which only sets her off too. Pretty soon, all three of them are giggling like schoolgirls who’ve just found out their teacher’s dating the P.E. teacher.

Alexia is standing there, jaw clenched, probably wondering if anyone would notice if she threw them all out the window. You, meanwhile, have reached a state of embarrassment that transcends space and time. You’re floating above the situation, looking down at your life and wondering where it all went so horribly, horribly wrong.

“Can we not make a big deal out of this?” you ask, even though you know it’s hopeless. “It’s not like we were…” You trail off, realizing that there’s no good way to end that sentence. Not like you were what? Sorting laundry? Rearranging the furniture?

“Having sex?” Patri supplies helpfully, still grinning like she’s just won the lottery. “You totally were. We walked in at the good part, didn’t we?”

Alexia makes a strangled sound in the back of her throat, which is probably the only thing that stops her from committing actual homicide. “Out. All of you. Now”

But no one moves. Because why would they? They’re having the time of their lives. Jenni’s already pulling out her phone, probably to tweet something like “Just walked in on the most awkward team bonding experience ever #FML”

“We’re not going to let you live this down, you know,” Mapi says, her smirk so wide it’s a wonder her face doesn’t split in half. “This is going to be the story we tell at every team event from now until the end of time”

“Your kids are going to hear about this,” Patri adds, not even bothering to hide her amusement. “Hell, your grandkids. This is legendary”

You’re going to need therapy after this. Maybe a lot of therapy. But, honestly, that’s future you’s problem. Right now, you just want them to leave so you can salvage whatever dignity you have left and maybe finish what you started with Alexia—assuming, of course, that this hasn’t killed the mood entirely.

Finally, because even she knows when enough is enough, Jenni straightens up and nods toward the door. “Alright, alright. We’ll give you two lovebirds some privacy.” She winks at Alexia, who looks like she might actually be considering taking up a new sport just to avoid ever having to see Jenni again. “But don’t take too long. We’re going to need the play-by-play downstairs”

With that, they finally—finally—file out of the room, still snickering and whispering like they’ve just uncovered the juiciest gossip of the century. As the door closes behind them, you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Well,” you say, turning to look at Alexia, who’s now standing in the middle of the room with her hands on her hips and a scowl on her face. “That went as good as expected”

She gives you a look that could freeze hell, but then, after a moment, she sighs and shakes her head, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “We are never doing this again”

“Sex?” you ask, and the horrified expression that crosses her face makes you burst out laughing. “In someone else’s house,” you clarify, still giggling. “I think that’s a solid rule”

She rolls her eyes but then moves back toward the bed, a mischievous glint in her eyes that tells you maybe the night isn’t entirely ruined after all. “Well, we’re here now,” she says, climbing onto the mattress and pulling you toward her. “Might as well make the most of it”

[seraphicsentences]

hii mamas, probably stupid since youve been writing less, but js incase can i req ellie swiping through an album of videos and photos of reader, but then her mood is instantly changed when she swipes to a sx recording thta she completely forgot about? miss youu 😔😔

i’m sorry baby ik i suck ive been reaaall busy lately so i haven’t had much time for writing but! here’s a short one. working through requests slowly but surely. enjoy!

thinking about loser!ellie turning pussy drunk for you, or rather, the thought of you, in seconds. bc when am i not thinking about loser!ellie?

loser!ellie, naturally, never leaves the house. why would she— when she has her savage starlight comics stacked up on her shelf, her xbox hooked up, locked and loaded with a never ending amount of games, and most importantly, you, to come over whenever she pleases.

except for now, unfortunately. you had gone out to see an old friend who was visiting in town, and ellie, trying her very best to be a respectful girlfriend, decided to stay in (against her wishes).

as the pathetic, attached, and adorable loser she was, she had resorted to scrolling through her compiled camera album of you, which you self- titled “the prettiest, coolest, smartest, awesomest girl ever. aka your wife.”

she laughed under her breath, shaking her head fondly at the statement as she continued to swipe through countless candids, selfies, and clips of you. her girl.

she couldn’t help but smile sweetly into the crook of her elbow, head falling sideways into her mussed bed as she relived her favorite moments with you, which was really actually every moment she spent with you.

after skimming through an 8 minute long video of the two of you trying, and failing, to kill a small bug on her bedroom wall, it’s safe to say ellie’s heart was warm, and filled to the brim.

the next video’s thumbnail doesn’t immediately draw up any memories of hers, a blurry view of what seems to be her wall of space posters, so she assumes it to be an accidental recording.

but it’s— 18 minutes long??

curiosity winning her over, ellie clicks on the video, a loading symbol popping up on the screen briefly before sounds of heavy breathing overtake the room.

bedsheets rustle in the background, as ellie watches what appears to be her own hand scrambling at the phone’s lens, propping it up on her bedside table.

the view is what can only be described as filthy. your back arching off the mattress, legs tied to opposite posts on the bed as you writhe, gasping for air as ellie holds a vibrator lush against your clit.

“ah! ellie!” you’re crying out, ankles twisting and pulling at the grasps their in.

present-day ellie’s face glows a deep red, her breathing already picking up as she watches the screen, entranced. her legs come together, squeezing, as she begins to rock her hips down into the bed ever-so-subtly, clit grazing the seam of her pants in reach for the smallest sparks of stimulation.

she had completely forgotten about this video, the post-sex exhaustion wiping it from her memory, but it served as quite the pleasant surprise for her pathetic loser!self now. she flips over onto her back.

heart pumping, she roams her fingers across her navel, dipping under her boxers as she stares at her past self humping greedily on one of your thighs, head thrown back. your hands were gripped on the meat of her hips, pushing her down harder against yourself as she continued to shakily rub the toy over you.

her soft whimpers intermingled with your pleading moans to form an addicting symphony— ellie biting down on her lip as the tip her finger brushes over her pulsing clit.

“ellie, please, need your fingers,” you whine in the current scene.

“you got ‘em,” she hears herself husk out.

ellie groans, her finger twitching down involuntarily to press harder into her needy, puffy clit.

“fuck,” she swears under her breath, head falling back into a pillow as she fucks her hips up harder against her hand. her jaw drops open, head spinning as she pleads for your touch. simply yearning like the fucking loser she is, whimpering your name over and over again as she pants out heavily.

video-ellie has now ditched the vibrator, fucking her fingers messily into your weeping pussy as you raise a hand up to cup her heat.

“gonna let me stuff you up, els?” you ask, half-lidded with a surprisingly cocky smirk for the amount you’re dripping down your thighs.

“please,” ellie cries now, in sync with her recorded whines as she replicates your motions, a halfhearted attempt to relive the eye-rolling experience.

you, or she finally slides two fingers in, curling them impatiently to rub over that one spot that has her whispering, “please mommy.”

the phone falls onto the mattress, filthy sounds still playing in the background as ellie clutches the bedsheets instead, twisting them for dear life. her fingers thrust more rapidly now, sounds of her slick filling the air as she spreads her legs eagle-wide to reach even deeper.

how pathetic she is. this wet from just a video recording? this desperate for your touch? she’s nearing her finish already, beating past-her, which from the sound of it, seems to be getting edged.

her fingers jam harder into her g-spot, little uh-uh-uh’s slipping out from between her lips with the movement. ellie’s other hand scrambles for her thrown phone, dazedly clicking your contact and thumb searching for the audio recording option.

she can’t hold it anymore, legs kicking and squirming as she tries to get her words out.

“m-iss y-you real, real- fuck- bad. mmph please- need you ho-home n-ow, babe, g-gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum,” she rambles, her voice getting higher as she gets more lost in the sensations.

her back flies off the bed, hips bucking animalistically as she chants your name loudly, fingers still moving at lightning speed.

“miss you,” she whines quietly now, catching her breath and pouting as she slides her fingers out of her raw pussy, before hitting send with her not cum-coated hand.

yes this was short asf. n what about it? i banged it out in a zoooooom. ;)

[thebutchersbitch]

Sorry if this goes against what you write I couldn't find like a request dos and don't thingy lol but I would love if you wrote about a reader who has to get chained up or locked up every night before they go to sleep because cooper cant trust you won't run away, but one day the restraints are loose or not locked (maybe he does it on purpose to test you) and you decide to stay put because you love him and then he rewards you 🫣

This story can be read alone or as Part Two of this one!! 😊

18+ only

Daddy kink/DDLG | Stockholm Syndrome | Breeding kink | Reader was kidnapped by Cooper months ago, taken from her home and husband, but has forgotten her former life entirely while under Cooper’s manipulation and control

Cooper’s jaw was tense as he pulled out of the driveway. He’d made a decision he hoped he wouldn’t regret. The consequences of the test he was currently giving you could be lethal to his entire world…and yet, he needed to test your loyalty to him. It wasn’t enough for Cooper to hear you profess with words your love for him. Words alone meant nothing; as a skilled liar, Cooper knew this all too well. He needed real, irrefutable proof that even when given the choice of escape, you’d still be waiting for him when he returned to the safe house.

It’s why he’d left the keys to your cuffs on the table at your side of the bed, where you could easily reach them. If he returned to the house that afternoon on his lunch break and you were still there…then at last, Cooper would have his answer. If however, you’d used the opportunity to escape, then his entire life would be in your hands. Either way, Cooper had to know what would happen if he tested you. He sighed deeply through his nose, lips pressed into a stern, flat line. He looked back at the house one last time before leaving, hoping his instincts about his little girl’s loyalty to him would prove correct…

The hours at the fire station passed by easily enough. When lunch time arrived, Cooper made an excuse to the men working under him about needing an extended break. Family stuff, he lied explained. Really, he needed to go check on his girl.

He packed up his lunch and brought it to the car with him. Cooper drove the few miles from the station to the safe house he kept you in, listening to a local news and weather report on the radio, taking a few distracted bites of his sandwich on the way.

When you heard Cooper’s car come to a stop outside the house, your heart rate kicked up a notch. The handcuffs he’d left you in were now sitting with the keys on your nightstand beside you. Unaware that you were being tested, you’d taken advantage of Cooper’s ‘mistake,’ in leaving the keys within your reach. This will finally prove it to him, you thought. Cooper would see that even with the ability to leave him, you’d choose to stay.

Cooper entered the house downstairs, listening. It was quiet…too quiet. Perhaps you were sleeping, Cooper wondered. Apprehension built within him as his fears you’d escaped multiplied. He passed the stairs quickly, his steps heavy down the carpeted hall that led to the bedroom. You smiled when Cooper’s boots became visible in the crack under the door. He seemed to pause, inhaling a deep breath before pulling back the door. Met with the sight of you sitting on the bed, Cooper felt a sense of peace sink over him. He swallowed the lump of nerves that had been building in his throat, leaning inside the doorway, smiling at his girl. “Hi baby,” he said, and in spite of hearing Cooper’s voice nearly every day for the past ten months, your cheeks still warmed bashfully.

He looked so goddamn handsome, so big, illuminated in the doorway with the hallway light behind him.

Cooper looked at the table beside you, and then your wrist. His test had been successful. You’d proven yourself just as beautifully broken as Cooper hoped you were. He’d never been more proud of his little girl.

“I took the cuffs off,” you said, a little worried. “I hope you’re not mad at me, Daddy.” Cooper shook his head.

“Far from it,” he replied softly. Cooper didn’t hesitate a second longer before taking three quick strides to the bed, and climbing on top of you. Your legs parted instinctively for him, the soft outline of your pussy puffy and warm as Cooper rubbed himself against you.

His kisses on your neck were tender, grateful. He needed this, even more than he’d thought. The knowledge that you were truly his had Cooper’s mind spinning in the best way, his body flooded with adrenaline and happiness. His cock was already stiff against your cunt; he reached between your bodies and undid his jeans, relieving some of the pressure. Cooper’s kisses traveled lower, between your breasts and down your belly. When his tongue traced the outline of your bellybutton, a little giggle shivered out of you. The giggle was quickly silenced and exchanged for a whimper when Cooper’s mouth latched over your pussy.

Any remaining tension in his mind melted away into the moist heat of your cunt. Cooper couldn’t think straight when his face was between your legs, your fingers tugging at his hair, his tongue buried in the soft folds of your pussy. All he could focus on was your sweet taste, the slick smearing across his cheeks as he nuzzled your folds. You rotated your hips side to side, seeking the end of Cooper’s nose to rub your clit against. He sucked fat, wet kisses onto your pussy, a filthy squelch following each.

His shoulders were nestled between your thighs, his chest and belly against the bed as he ate you. Cooper’s arms hooked around your upper legs, his fingers laced together on top of your belly, holding you in place so you couldn’t squirm away from him no matter how hard you came. Pearly liquid oozed from your pussy in between Cooper’s lips, his mouth sealing over your cunt and lightly sucking. The pulsing pressure made your legs twitch, prompting Cooper to lock his arms even tighter across your belly, a proud smirk finding his lips as he realized how close you were.

“So good for me, baby,” Cooper hummed against your pussy, his words interspersed with little kisses and sucks. “Such a good little pussy…all pretty and puffy, just begging for Daddy to kiss it…” He spanked his palm lightly against your cunt, watching your pussy flinch and your tiny hole pucker.

Making you come was what Cooper lived for in this moment. Any time his face was between your legs, your pleasure was all that mattered to him, now more than ever. You’d done so well, proved yourself loyal to him in the most definitive way possible. You needed to be rewarded, to be shown exactly how much Cooper appreciated knowing that his little girl was truly, unquestionably his. Nothing existed beyond the space where Cooper’s face was nestled, his eyes closed in a drug-like satisfaction, your warm thighs acting as earmuffs to seal away the world around him.

Cooper ate you for an hour straight, without a single pause to rest his jaw or tongue. Your ass was sitting in a little puddle of your own juices by the time he was finished. He reached for his phone, pulling it from his pocket with slippery fingers. He cursed when he saw the time. “Have to get back,” he murmured, returning his phone to his pocket, popping his fingers in his mouth to clean them off. Cooper kissed your belly and lifted himself off the bed, stuffing his cock back in his jeans.

He slicked back his hair, wiping his wet chin on his sleeve. “I wish you didn’t have to go,” you told him in a small voice. Cooper nodded as he gently pulled your panties back up. “I know angel,” he said. “But I’ll be back tomorrow.” He winked up at you. “Promise.” Cooper reminded you to eat the lunch he’d brought you from the station, and to get plenty of rest while he was gone. You’d need it for tomorrow, he said. “Because tomorrow,” Cooper explained. “When Daddy gets home, he’s gonna put his dick where his tongue was for the past hour.” Cooper’s tone was darker, a sincerity in his voice that was thick with lust. “And I’m not gonna stop,” he continued. “Till I’ve put a baby inside you.”

Your lips parted in surprise. “Yeah,” Cooper nodded, sensing your confusion. “You’re going to make me a real daddy again, angel.” He leaned closer and cupped your cheek tenderly. “I know that I can trust you now,” Cooper said, an affectionate grin on his lips. “You won’t leave me. That means I can trust you to carry my children.” He sat down on the bed beside you. “Rachel is…” Cooper paused. “She won’t give me anymore kids. It’s fine, it’s her choice, but-.” Cooper sighed. “I want more. You’ll give them to me.” You felt a little dizzy, not just from coming so hard for an hour straight. Cooper’s plans for you had caught you off guard.

“Isn’t that right honey?” Cooper asked, but he wasn’t really asking at all. “You’ll make me a daddy as many times as I want, won’t you?” You nodded slowly, absorbing Cooper’s words. “We’ll deliver the babies here,” Cooper continued, matter-of-factly. “Don’t worry about safety-I’ll make sure it’s safe. I have the training. I can deliver our babies right here-.” Cooper patted the bed, a confident smile on his face. “Firefighters are trained to deliver babies on the job if necessary.” His voice was cheerful. “Did you know that, sweetheart?”

You shook your head ‘no,’ still processing Cooper’s plans for you. He rose from the bed once again, sighing contentedly as he headed for the door. “You’ll make an excellent mother,” Cooper told you. “Much better than mine. I know it.” He patted the doorframe on his way out. “See you tomorrow, sweetheart.”

[barleyo]

Rural Bliss.

Real Dad! Leon X F! Reader (smut)

A/N: You, as a reader, are responsible for your own media consumption. It is up to you to read the tags that I have provided and determine whether or not this is a piece of writing that you would like to partake in. If not, scroll on by, if you do, please enjoy! Remember, I am not responsible for any discomfort you feel if you choose to read this.

Tags: incest (daddy-daughter), dub-con, oral (f receiving), LARGE AGE GAP (18 and 40+), pwp (light plot), mentions of predatory behavior, mutual creepiness, dark and disturbing content, choppy ass writing

Wordcount: 1.8k

!!! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT/DARK CONTENT !!!

Your mom had finally done it. She found a halfway decent guy and let him wife her up faster than you could say 'I do.' You weren't exactly mad about it. He was a decent enough guy, and he made your mom happy, so whatever. The only part that you were against was the fact that you would be staying with your estranged father for the rest of your summer until your mom and her boy-toy got back from their extensive honeymoon.

Your dad fucked off pretty quickly after you were born. Moved himself far away into the middle of nowhere, not once reaching out or keeping in touch. A small part of you wanted to know him, but a larger part of you was pissed that you would have to now temporarily live with a man who you could just barely remember the name of. 

What was it again? Leonard? Lucas? No, no, that's not right. Leon? Yeah, something like that. Leon. 

Leon, the man who left you and your mom. The man who, instead of raising you, decided to lick his wounds in the deep country, likely making a meager living off of growing potatoes and carrots. The man who was a stranger, connected to you only by blood. 

The man whose front porch you were currently standing on, banging on his door without a care in the world. You looked around while you knocked. It was a large bit of land. A few neighbors nearby, but not within spitting distance. At the very least, this town had a few stores with maybe a few people your age lingering around them. 

"I'm coming, damn it!" His steps were loud, you could hear them from all the way outside. The heaviness of his work boots must've weighed him down quite a bit. The screen door flew open and his face softened. "Oh, hey kid. Didn't know you'd be here so early. Come in." 

You followed him inside, letting your eyes trail his face and frame. You'd only seen a picture or two of him before. He wasn't quite what you were expecting. He looked a lot older now than he did in the photos. More tired, less lively. His crow's feet and smile lines stuck out, but if the lonely, uncomfortable vibe of his house was any clue, you assumed he hadn't been smiling much in his life. 

He wasn't bad looking, though. Time hasn't weathered him, and you could tell he took care of himself. His arms and chest looked strong, clearly he had found some way to stay fit out in his desolate chunk of farmer-country. You could see why your mom picked him. He looked like a good one, despite his fleeting nature. 

"You're gonna be stayin' for a few months, yeah?" Leon didn't seem uncomfortable with your presence, so you felt a bit more calm.

"Yeah, I guess so. Mom didn't really give me all the details, just kinda sprung it on me."

"Believe me, I know," he said under his breath. "Well, this place isn't much, 'm sure it's not what you're used to." He locked the door behind you and flashed an apologetic look. 

"It's fine. I'll make it work." You looked around. It looked lived in, strangely worn despite nobody else ever living there.

He led you down a dimly lit hallway, the floorboards groaning beneath their weight, until they reached a single room. It was a small bedroom, adorned with faded wallpaper and completely wooden furniture. The single window offered a glimpse of the bare, green landscape outside. 

"This'll be your room. You can unpack your things."

Hardly a week passed by and you were already sick to death of living with your dad. His jokes were bad. His cooking was shit. His attempts at bonding with you were creepy at best and damn near-assault at worst. He let his hands drift all over you when he pulled you in for hugs and tried pecking a kiss on your mouth before you went off to bed each night, and damn it, you let him.

Again and again, every night, letting that old man press his chapped lips against yours, holding back your urge to force your tongue into his mouth.

He bought you gifts that no other fathers would think about getting their daughters. Skimpy little clothes that left nothing to the imagination, while he wrote it off by claiming ignorance.

"That's what girls your age wear, right? I can't keep up with what you kids are into," Leon would say, covering his ass with feigned dopiness. 

His only redeeming quality was that he was hot and mostly oblivious. It was fucked up to think about it that way, but without having much other male contact during your stay, Leon was starting to becoming quite the piece of eye candy. The best part is that he thought nothing of it, acting like his teenaged daughter spending hours staring at his half-naked, sweaty body while he worked in the hot sun was normal. Just another day. Nothing special. 

He didn't make you work on the farm with him, so you got to do all the watching. You got to see those strong arms lift hay bales for the horses and chop trees for firewood. Most of your days were spent watching him from the front porch, mentally cursing yourself out when you felt your thighs clench together instinctually at his sexy movements. 

What was wrong with you? 

Were years of fatherlessness finally catching up to you? Couldn't muster any real love for the old man, so sexual yearning was the next best thing? Eye-fucking your dad and sharing touches that lasted too long were the cost of him skipping out on you.

You rationalized it the best you could. Maybe you didn't actually want him, maybe the solitude of the countryside was getting to you. Maybe there was something in the air, some kind of sex-pollen floating in the breeze that made you wanna get bent over by a man twice your age that just so happened to be related to you. Closely related.

Leon didn't really know how to treat a woman well, but he tried his best with you. It was his first time really being a dad, but honestly, he hated it. Being a 'dad' sucked, especially when he'd rather have his daughter as his girlfriend. 

You made him so frustrated, so unsure of himself. Leon's only experience with girl's your age was in getting them liquor they couldn't legally buy themselves, fucking them like plastic sex dolls, and leaving them for someone else to woo and screw. 

He couldn't quite do that to you, though. He couldn't get you drunk and take advantage of you, pumping and dumping in you without a care about your pleasure. He had to take care of you, your health and comfort. All he really wanted was to take care of your body.

You were his little girl. He'd fuck you like he actually gave a damn about you if he ever got the chance, and he most definitely wouldn't be leaving you for anyone else.

That type of thinking brought him here. 

"Daddy, please..."

The walls in his house were too damn thin. He could practically hear each thrust of your fingers into your cunt from his bedroom. Your bed screeched agonizingly against the floors, punctuating your moans and hisses of pleasure. 

He saw his opportunity and took it. He had waited long enough, and this was the least he could do, right? You needed him, right? Right.

He pushed your door open, not having the decency nor the self-restraint to knock. You felt your body go still, but kept your hands between your legs. 

"If you needed me, coulda told me. Don't like t'hear you in here whining." Leon sat on the edge of your bed, crawling his way between your legs. "Fuck, that's pretty." 

He took in the sight of your fingers stuffed into your pudgy cunt, slick dripping between each digit. 

"No, you're—! this isn't what it—" you tried prying your fingers out, but a strong hand wrapped around your wrist to keep you in place.

"Isn't what it looks like? How about what it sounds like, huh? Sounds like you want your daddy to dull that ache in you." 

He was so far gone. He normally never did this. Leon was a man who took. He took younger girls virginity, mouth, pussy, or other. He was the one that got sucked off and got his perv dick wet. But for his baby? You, the little nymph who fell gracefully into his grasp? He was foaming at the mouth for a chance to slurp your pussy.

"Open up, come on. Got nothin' to be shy about," he urged, forcing your legs open, pulling your fingers out, and shimmying closer to you. "Nothin' I haven't seen before."

That was somewhat of a lie. Sure, he saw pussies all the time when he bullied his cock into them, but he was normally never nose to clit, ready to lick.

He stuck his needy tongue out, lapping up the juices that you worked up when you rubbed yourself raw. He swirled around you clit as a test, trying to see what felt good for you. He soon settled on puckering his lips around your bud and sucking, swapping his spit in and out of his mouth to keep you lubed up. 

Your voice broke with hushed whines and chants. Yes's and oh's rang out, filling Leon's ears and his ego. 

He pulled his head back and lob a wad of spit onto your clit, chuckling when you shivered. 

"Feel good?" His thumb traced your clit in little figure eights. 

"Mm, s'good." Your hands trailed through his thick, soft hair. You gripped it tightly, pulling his head back to your cunt. "No, don't stop, jus' need your mouth again."

His sharp, strong nose bumped against the top of your pussy while he munched down on you greedily. His tongue traveled around you in an indecisive manner. One moment, he was using flat strokes to lick on your swollen nub, then pointing his tongue while he fucked it in and out of you. 

Despite the sporadic nature of it, the warmth and wetness of the contact of his mouth on you felt like heaven. It didn't matter what he was doing, as long as he was looking up at you with his piercing eyes and swallowing down your slick, you were satisfied.

"Dad, oh my God, yes!" It felt like venom coming off of your tongue when you moaned it, but tasted like honey at the same time. Something about it was so wrong, but felt so natural.

As your legs tightened around Leon's head and trapped him between your thighs, you knew it was meant to be. You were meant to be your daddy's princess. You were meant to feel like mouth on you, to be spoiled by his tongue, words, money, and his cock. You had been missing out on it for so long. 

You spent the rest of your summer making up for lost time, discovering just what having a daddy was meant to feel like.

[bunny-1111]

Mr fix it - dad Theo Nott x femreader

Description: Theodore is protective over his wife and daughter as they accidentally take a fall into the lake under his supervision

Word count: 1.65k

Fluff

Warning: mentions of falling into the lake (no complete drowning, just panic)

likes comments + reblogs appreciated xx

...

After graduating high school, Theodore wasted no time in proposing.

It was a collection of things. He didn't want to risk the two of you drifting apart. With his senior father falling ill, Theodore knew what would be waiting for him with his father's departure, a huge mansion, too much money and oh so much time.

Being all alone in that house was his nightmare. He knew he would go insane if you were not by his side, as his wife, creating a home out of that residency together.

So that you did. A small, intimate ceremony, your close friends and family, a not-so-humble celebration at the manor that would soon be yours to share.

When at Hogwarts, you practically lived with each other; your dorm was his and vice versa. Moving in was bliss.

You had redecorated the house and brought life back into its rooms; it was such a big property, though it never felt empty; how could it? When it was filled with so much young love.

After falling pregnant with your daughter, Theodore's whole demeanour shifted; a once carefree young boy had become an observant young man, the father of his little girl.

He would make sure, heavy or sharp objects weren't in her reach.

Her bedroom, to Theo's liking, was almost bare of furniture, simply her bed, a rocking chair and a small table cluttered with books, avoiding almost all ability of injury.

He would hover over her each step she took; this became harder the faster she ran; he was so scared of her own two feet, his arms never too far away, in case he needed to catch her.

"You need to relax, Teddy. She's not made of bubble wrap. Children are meant to fall and cry. It's natural" you expressed, sliding into bed next to him

"I know, I just don't want to see either of you hurt, ever." he sighed back

"Theo, when have we ever" you smiled at his foolish panic

"You do your damn best at keeping us safe alright, just take a step back. It'll be good for her, ok?" you said, hands through his hair

He looked into your eyes, "Ok?" you repeated

"Ok." he agreed, kissing you goodnight.

You were quick to fall asleep. Theo laid, eyes open, mind awake. How could he sit back and not do everything he could to make sure his precious girls didn't get hurt, even by accident. His heart strings pulled at the very thought of you both, it came from love, such devotion to his two brilliant girls, his wife and daughter.

The next afternoon, as he rested and watched against a large tree in the backyard, he observed the two of you playing near the lake on the property's edge.

'they're fine', leave them be', he reminded himself, body heavy against the tree, eyes still glued to you two.

When, from his distance, he saw your energetic three-year-old jump around you, you were wearing a long flowing dress; it was just a little too long for your body, as he had watched you hold it up in your hands to avoid tripping.

His two girls picked flowers by the lakeside, placing them into a basket you carried on your arm.

It was in a flash of a second as he watched your daughter step on the hanging fabric, causing you to fall in the water, "Daddy!" your small child called out

He sprinted toward you. "Stay there!" he yelled towards her. As he ran, he watched his daughter willingly enter the water to try and help you before he could get to you, completely ignoring his instructions

The problem was the dress was too heavy, you were struggling to stay afloat, and your daughter, she didn't know how to swim.

You held your daughter above water as she kicked against the current in fright, gasping for air yourself; you were swallowing too much water.

Without hesitation, Theodore plunged to your rescue, taking your daughter into his hand, the other pulling you with them.

She cried in confusion as she was placed onto the grass, but her now very drenched father, "Don't move darling", he sternly instructed her as he rushed to your side, rubbing your back as you coughed up.

"What's wrong with mommy?" your daughter questioned, tears still falling down her face. She knew she was responsible

"She's alright, mommy's alright," he said, holding your hair back as you caught your breath.

Crawling towards your daughter, you lay down completely on the grass next to her, "I'm ok, sweetheart", wiping the tears off her now puffy cheeks.

Theodore knew the child was ok, so he cupped your face to inspect for anything. When he was satisfied, he joined your place on the floor

"Holy shit" he muttered, grasping what just unfolded, placing his daughter onto his lap

"We're fine" you smiled towards your obviously freaked-out husband

"Sorry" your daughter frowned

"Don't ever come in the water again, alright, not until we teach you how to swim," you say, trying to hide your own panic about what might have happened if Theo wasn't closed; she nodded in agreement.

That night in bed, after putting your daughter into her own room, Theodore suggested removing the lake altogether.

"No, that's not necessary, Theo", you insisted

"and just after you told me to lay off as well" he shook his head, rubbing his eyes

"we're safe thanks to you, alright? Even if we do get hurt, you always come and fix it, piece us back together," you soothed

He couldn't even look at you without reimagining you fighting in the water

"Well, I know something you don't know, something that might cheer you up" You smiled, gently moving his face towards your own

"What's that?" he said, looking deeply into your eyes

Before you could reply, your daughter crept into your bed, sliding herself into the middle of you both

"Are you ok, my love?" you ask your little girl as she moves beside you

"I no sleep" she huffed, getting comfortable

Theodore smiled, eyes wandering between you both

"What are we call, baby brother, daddy?" she questioned

"You want a baby brother?" he said, gently wrapping his long arm across you and your child

You tried to hide your face

"No silly Daddy, Mommy said he's coming soon", she smiled with excitement

"Really?" Theodore said to you, sitting upwards

"yeah," you laughed as Theodore placed kisses all over your face, your daughter laughing at the commotion.

This meant two things, his family extending and another little human to worry over.

i love dad theo

Author Note: sorry, I've been so busy haven't had the chance to upload and write, but more is on the way. Don't worry - requests are open

[puckinghischier]

Sunburnt

Jack Hughes x fem!reader

summary: reader gets a little too excited on her first day at the lake, resulting in a nasty sunburn

notes: hi!!!! long time so see!! my writing slump has been brutal, but i had a lil pool day today and was sitting there thinking about what a summer at the hughes lake house is like while sunbathing and this little piece popped into my head. it’s not much and probably a lil all over the place, but i hope you enjoy!! i missed all of you 🥺

[3.3k]

(also, unedited bc it’s late and i’m going to bed. i might edit it in the morning, we’ll see)

You’ve waited all year for this. You have absolutely nothing on your agenda but two straight months of lake house fun and working on your tan.

Your move to New Jersey had really put a halt to any tan building for a majority of the year. You learned quickly that the winters were long and brutal, leaving little room to feed your sunbathing addiction.

You had tried to find a salon to tan at, but you quickly got bored of the bright lights and sterile smell. You even tried spray tans a couple of times, but you always felt you had more of an orange tone than a golden one.

You didn’t have to worry about any of it for a second longer, though. You were finally in the place you craved to be year-round.

Since the season ended early for the boys this year, the Devils losing their shot at the playoffs, you and Jack had packed your things and left Jersey the second all of his current post-season duties were over with.

Jack had managed to secure himself a pass on any other post season activities the players might be pulled for. He wasn’t required to return to the city until pre-season started.

Luke and Quinn were set to join the two of you whenever they could, but with Luke playing on the U.S. national team, and Quinn’s playoff run with the Canucks coming up, it would be weeks before either brother made their way to the beloved lake house.

Ellen and Jim were also set to join at some point during the stay, but weren’t yet sure of when they could escape their work for a few weeks.

This leaves you and Jack with the entire house to yourself for the beginning of your stay. You loved the other Hughes brothers, but with Luke living with Jack and your own roommate being a homebody, the two of you were rarely ever awarded with true alone time.

You were currently putting sheets on the bed in what will be yours and Jack’s room for the next two months while Jack unloads his car.

You were nearly done when you hear the sound of a suitcase being dragged up the stairs.

“God, Y/N, I know we’re going to be here a while, but it feels like you packed your entire apartment in here.”

Poking your head out of the open doorway, you watch as your boyfriend heaves your gigantic suitcase up the double flight of stairs.

“Well, I was going to only pack a few swimsuits and pjs, but I figured I should pack some real clothes for when the rest of your family gets here.”

Jack responds with a glare as he climbs the final step, stopping to take a breather. His face was a light shade of red and there were a few beads of sweat on his top lip.

“You know, I figured since you just finished your season you’d still be in pretty decent shape, but it looks like you’re going to have to stay in the gym all summer. Maybe do a bit more cardio and weight lifting, seeing as you’re struggling to carry my lil’ ole’ suitcase,” you tease, retreating back into the bedroom to place the decorative pillows on the bed.

“Maybe if you didn’t shove a dead body in your luggage I’d be able to carry it up the stairs like a normal person. But no, you had to pack cinderblocks.” He rolls the oversized suitcase into the corner of the room, placing his own measly duffle bag next to it.

You let a small giggle slip out, walking over to where Jack was standing with his hands on his hips.

Once you reach him, you place your hands through the opening left by his arms on either side of his torso, hugging him close to you. You let your chin rest on his chest as you look up at him, his own face tilted down so he could meet your eyes.

“Thank you, my big strong hockey player boyfriend, for carrying the dead body in my suitcase up the stairs. I’ll make sure to leave your name out of all this in court,” you joke, leaning up to place a small peck on his lips.

“Oh, how kind of you. How will I ever repay you?” Jack places his own arms around you, pulling you even closer.

“Hmmm…” you pretend to think. “How about helping me rub tanning lotion on my back and laying in the sun with me for the rest of the day?”

Jack acts like he’s mulling it over, raising his eyebrows while tilting his head to one side.

“I guess I can manage that. Considering the circumstances.”

You smile up at him, pulling out of his embrace.

“Yay! Okay, I have to go get changed. Set up the chairs for us?” You ask him, clapping your hands together out of excitement.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack says with a bow, playfully rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

You turn to open your suitcase to fish out one of the many bathing suits you brought as Jack makes his way out of the room.

“Find the sunniest spot you can! I need to make up for lost time!” you shout after him, hearing a laugh as he makes his way down the stairs.

Only 10 minutes later, you walk out of the sliding glass door leading to the backyard. You spot Jack on the dock down near the lake, putting the final touches on your sunny oasis.

You make the small trek down to him, pool bag in hand and sunglasses on your face.

“Wow, all this for me?” you announce your presence as you reach the end of the lengthy deck.

Jack had set up two tanning chairs on the end of the dock, an umbrella in-between them for when you inevitably claim you’re too hot and sweaty to sit in the sun any longer. He had a small cooler set up with waters, beer for himself, and some of your favorite fruity seltzers.

He had even found a small fan that he clipped to the arm of your chair to keep you cool while you laid out in the sun. He was fiddling with the small speaker he had under the umbrella as you approached, a country song flowing out around you.

“Only the best for my little felon,” he recalls your earlier conversation, raising up to give you his full attention.

Once his eyes fall on you, his mouth snaps shut.

You had picked your skimpiest bikini, wanting to get all of the risqué swimsuits out of the way before the two of you had company later in the summer.

The number you were currently sporting was a pale pink matching set. Two tiny triangles covered your chest, while a high-legged thong covered the rest of you.

You watched as his darkening eyes raked over your body, his tongue poking out to wet his dry lips.

“Hell, baby, you can stuff my dead body in a suitcase if you’re going to look like that while doing it,” Jack breathes out.

You laugh at his response, walking over and setting your stuff on your chair, patting his bare chest as you walk past him.

You bend over to grab your tanning lotion out of your bag when you feel a light smack on your ass cheek, straightening up to find Jack standing right behind you, his hand finding its place on your exposed hip.

“Y’know, we could skip this whole tanning thing and go make use of that big, empty house while we have the chance,” Jack lowly whispers in your ear, sliding his hand around to ghost his fingers up and down the soft skin of your belly.

You lean your head back on his shoulder at the touch, allowing yourself to enjoy it for a few more seconds before turning around in his hold and placing your hands on his freckled shoulders.

“I think that’s a wonderful idea and would absolutely love to….” You trail off, standing on your tip toes and letting your lips touch his ear as you speak. Jack gulps, closing his eyes as he feels your hand slip from its spot on his shoulder and continue to move downward, almost reaching the band of his swimming trunks when you stop.

“…..after we tan” you finish, bringing your hand back up to pat his cheek, causing his eyes to shoot open.

“Okay, not fair,” he pouts as you push him back so you can continue digging through your bag.

“You told me you’d tan with me, so tan with me you shall,” you remind him, finding the bottle of lotion and holding it out to him.

Jack fulfills your wishes and very thoroughly applies the dark lotion to your skin, only being reprimanded for wandering hands a few times.

The two of you lay out on the dock for hours, enjoying each other’s company while feeling the rays soak into your skin. You talk about Jack’s team and this past season, what the upcoming season might hold, what the plan is for when the rest of the Hughes family joins, and various other light topics.

At one point you let the soft music and warmness of the sun lull you to sleep, only waking up when Jack comes over and gently shakes your shoulders.

“Y/N, c’mon, time to go inside. You’ve been in the sun for way too long, you’re going to get burnt,” Jack softly speaks to you as you come back into consciousness.

“Mmm, don’t wanna. Too comfy. Warm. Five more minutes,” you fight him, turning your head over to face opposite him.

“Nope, not an option. Can’t let you get too fried on your first day. You won’t be able to do anything for days if we don’t go inside, Lovey,” Jack uses the nickname he stole from your own family.

You grumble in protest, but peel yourself from the chair nonetheless. You notice how much lower the sun is in the sky and wonder what time it is. You pull your phone from your bag to see you’ve been out here well into the evening.

You realize you and Jack forgot to go grocery shopping after you got here, your excitement about the sunshine causing you to forget any other chores you intended on doing today.

You grab your bag and follow Jack back up the dock, admiring the way the muscles in his back are flexed due to him carrying the still full cooler on his shoulder.

“Hey, J, what are we gonna do for dinner? We don’t have any groceries and I’m not sure if you want to go out, but-“ you’re cut off by your own stomach, the growl loud enough for the two of you to hear over the music still flowing through the speaker in Jack’s pocket.

“Yeah, looks like we’re going out, huh?” Jack laughs as your cheeks turn an even darker shade of pink than they already are from the sun.

You reach the house and help unload the cooler into the fridge before making your way up the stairs to rinse off and change.

When you step into the bathroom and undress, you’re shocked to see the extremely present tan lines already formed on your very red skin. You hadn’t noticed it outside, but your entire front half is a fiery shade of red.

You lightly press two fingers to the skin in-between your breasts and notice the two white fingerprints left behind. Your eyes widen when you realize how badly burnt you are.

You exit the bathroom to grab the after-sun lotion you packed before returning and turning the shower on, making sure you remember to lather yourself in the lotion after you’re done showering.

You peel back the curtain and step under the warm stream of water, but the feeling of the water hitting your sensitive skin causes you to cry out, trying to remove yourself from the water’s harsh sting.

Your scream of pain grabs Jack’s attention, causing him to rush up the stairs and burst into the bathroom, panic evident on his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he steps into the bathroom, looking around for the source of your scream.

“Jack, we have a problem….” You whine, pulling the curtain back to reveal the state of your skin.

Jack’s eyebrows shoot up, eyes widening at the angry, red color of your skin.

“Oh Lovey…”

You stand with the curtain open, shivering despite the elevated temperature of your skin. You had turned the water to cold to avoid the searing pain again, but the cold felt like small knives poking into your flesh.

“I think we got a little too excited with the tanning lotion….” You squeak out, trying to wrap your arms around yourself, but any touch to your skin felt like fire.

Jack’s eyes fill with sympathy, but also guilt.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I should have woken you up sooner. You just looked so content I didn’t want to make you go inside just yet.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I should have set a timer or something. You know how I get,” you wave off his guilt, knowing you can get a little sun-drunk sometimes.

Although, you had never let yourself get this burnt before.

You blame the New Jersey climate and its lack of warm weather for your tanning needs to prevent this from happening once you do manage to get somewhere warm and sunny.

Jack still looks at you, not sure what to do for you, but not wanting to leave you by yourself, seeing as you’re stuck standing with your arms held out a few inches from your torso to avoid any unwanted skin contact.

“I don’t know how I’m going to shower, Jack. The water burns so bad, even on cold. But I have to get this sticky lotion off of me,” you whine again, frustrated that you’re burnt so badly you can’t even wash the tacky lotion off of your body.

“I’ll go get a soft washcloth, hang on,” Jack leaves the bathroom for only a second before returning with a soft, blue cloth in his hands.

He adjusts the water temperature and holds the cloth under the lukewarm water for a moment before applying some of your body wash to it and handing it to you.

You take the cloth from his hands and attempt to wash yourself, but any movement of your limbs causes your damaged skin to pull, making you whimper out in pain.

“Okay, don’t worry baby, I got you,” Jack takes the cloth from you, stepping into the shower, standing in-between you and the water streaming out of the shower head.

“Please, be careful, J, it hurts,” you whine out, eyeing the cloth in his hand.

“I got you, Lovey, trust me,” Jack tells you as he drags the cloth over your skin so lightly you’re not even sure it’s touching you.

He continues the feather-light motion slowly, until he’s cleaned your entire body.

“I have to rinse you now, okay? It might sting, but we’ll go slow,” he turns to rinse the cloth, letting it soak with water once more after there’s no traces of soap left.

You close your eyes as he squeezes the water out of the cloth onto your arm, the sting only slightly better than before, but bearable enough you only have to have him stop once.

After he rinses all of the soap off of your body, Jack turns off the shower and finds the softest towel in the cabinet under the sink. He pats your sore skin dry, then rubs the after-sun lotion all over your body before helping you into your pajamas.

“Jack, I don’t think I can wear this, hurts too bad,” you tell him when he hands you the matching button up shirt to the shorts you’re currently wearing.

“Okay, go topless, then. Won’t hurt my feelings any,” he winks at you, causing you to roll your eyes with a smile.

Once you were as dressed as you could stand to be, Jack helps you to the bed sitting in the middle of your bedroom. Luckily your back wasn’t burnt, so he helps you into a partial sitting position, piling several pillows behind you to prop you up.

He starts to pull the blanket over you, but you stop him, knowing anything touching your skin right know would bring you to tears.

“Babe, you’re going to get cold if you don’t cover up with something. As soon as the sun sets you’ll get the chills,” he eyes the large window on the other side of the room, knowing it’ll be dark in another hour.

“Jack it hurts too bad, I can’t,” you cry out, pouting at him.

“Okay, fine. We’ll figure something out later,” he gives in, walking over to the other side of the bed and sitting down.

He turns on the tv and attempts to find something for the two of you to watch when your stomach growls again, reminding you that you still hadn’t eaten since this morning.

“Jack, I’m still hungry.”

“Do you want me to go grab something?”

“No, don’t leave me here by myself, what if my skin starts melting off?” you exasperated.

Jack laughs at you. “Your skin isn’t going to start melting, but fine. I’ll go find the take out menus and see who delivers.”

Thirty minutes later the doorbell rings, signaling the arrival of your Chinese food.

Jack goes to grab the food and bring plates upstairs so the two of you can eat in your bed, knowing you don’t feel like trying to walk downstairs to the dining room table.

He sets everything out like a small buffet. You manage to sit up a little straighter and try to reach for a plate, but the movement brings a new stinging warmth to the skin of your arm.

“Jack, I can’t even reach for a plate, how am I supposed to fill said plate and feed myself,” you say, frustrated.

Jack doesn’t say anything, but he takes the plate you were reaching for and puts all of your favorites on it. He grabs a fork and moves so he’s sitting cross-legged beside you.

“Here, open up,” Jack brings a fork full of food towards your mouth, motioning for you to open your mouth as the fork gets closer to you.

You open your mouth and he shovels the food in, going back in for more food once you had chewed and swallowed the first bite.

“Are you really going to sit here and feed me that entire plate?” you ask him, slightly embarrassed that this is how your first night at the lake house is going.

“Well, yeah. You said you were hungry, right?” Jack responds, looking at you as if he thought your question was stupid.

“I am, but you don’t have to do this. You can eat your food. I’ll figure out something. I feel like a kid sitting here being fed,” you tell him, wishing you could cross your arms the way you usually do when you pout.

“Y/N, you’re sitting in front of me with no shirt on. I’m trying my hardest not to stare at your boobs right now because I feel it would be wildly inappropriate to be sporting a boner when my girlfriend is clearly in pain. I can assure you, the last thing I’m thinking about right now is you resembling a kid,” he says, seriousness lacing his tone.

You laugh at your boyfriend, causing the skin on your belly to burn slightly, but you don’t care. You love how Jack can always make you feel better about any situation, even one as embarrassing as this.

“Now, c’mon and open up. Your food is gonna get cold,” he fusses, bringing another fork full of food towards your mouth.

He feeds you an entire plate of food, then eats his own. He takes the dishes and leftovers downstairs before coming back up to take a shower of his own.

Once he’s done with his own shower, he brings the bottle of after-sun back into the bedroom and lathers your skin in it once again, hoping this will help soothe your skin a bit more before the two of you try to sleep.

He settles in the bed, and as he predicted, you’ve started violently shivering.

“Can I please put a blanket on you now? I know you said it hurts, but you’re going to shiver right out of this bed if you don’t cover up,” Jack pleads, hating to see you shaking like this.

“Yeah, we can try. But maybe just the top sheet only for now,” you tell him, still apprehensive.

He gently pulls the top sheet over your body, letting it fall right at your collar bone.

You thank him for that second coat of after-sun because you can actually bear the thin cotton on your skin this time.

“Better?” he asks, waiting for any kind of negative reaction from you.

“Better. Thank you, Jack,” you tell him, causing him to relax a bit.

“Don’t sweat it, babe,” he shrugs it off, moving to get himself settled on his side of the bed.

“No, I mean it. I’m sorry I let myself ruin our first night here. I just got too eager, I guess. Forgot I haven’t laid out in a while.”

“It’s okay. Really. It’s partially my fault, too. For letting you sleep for so long without making you move under the umbrella with me,” he turns the light off, sliding down next to you, but not touching your skin.

“Well, I promise, I’m wearing sunscreen and sunscreen only for the rest of the summer,” you swear to him, moving your hand to loop your pinky through his, not being able to handle not touching him.

“I mean, I’m all for it, babe, but I don’t know how my parents and brothers will feel about that,” Jack quips back. You can hear the amused smile on his face, even though the room is pitch black.

“Goodnight, Jack.” Is all you say, rolling your eyes and smiling even though you know he can’t see you.

Jack lets out a laugh, squeezing your pinky.

Your skin may be on fire due to your love of sun soaking, but your heart has been sunburnt for years; Jack’s own personal sunshine setting it on fire every second you’re together.

[cherry-leclerc]

thinking of her ☆ cl16

genre: angst, marriage trope

word count: 1.8k

You and Charles take a visit to marriage counseling.

inspired by this !

req!... had some free time to write so thought i would work on a request i just got! short one, but i hope you enjoy :)

“Tell me why you’re both here.”

The room is silent and slightly cold. A large canvas hangs right in front of you as you take time to pretend you care about the family painted on it. Part of you actually does.

“Well, she thought it would be a good idea to drag us into this.”

Your eyes flicker to Charles and you would only hope that he could tell that you weren’t impressed by his answer. It was true, it was your idea to go to couple’s counseling, but only because you cared. You cared a lot. Sometimes you thought for sure he didn’t anymore.

“What made you take the initiative?”

You wanted to burst with anger. To prove to her that this wasn’t completely your fault. He wasn’t perfect, he tested your patience and despite it all, you still loved him enough to try and salvage your marriage. 

Your therapist stares back, pen ready to scribble possible solutions as if her words would really make a difference. Maybe, deep down, you didn’t like being here either, but you wanted to prove to Charles how he’s been a shit husband. 

You wanted someone to back you up.

Taking a deep breath, you play with your wedding band. The one that you would normally admire, but now just felt like pure suffocation. “He’s given me plenty of reasons to not trust him the way I once did and now I sit here like a fool thinking he might change.”

The way her pen glides is something you hate. 

Looking back up, she takes a moment to analyze the couple. Charles sits with a blank expression, as if he really did have somewhere better to be. In his mind, he did. Then, there was you. Regardless of your words pouring with pure vexation, your body language displayed something else. 

Your eyes were sad and tired. She easily noticed the way your hand would want to reach out to Charles, but would quickly grip tighter to your lap.

“Please, if you don’t mind, would you care to explain.”

You press your lips together. “I first noticed a difference two years into our marriage.”

-

“Chicken or fish?” 

It was Charles’ day off from work in a long time and you were currently on a call with Pascale trying to figure out what to surprise him with. He always raved about how much he loved when you cooked for him. 

“Fish. You guys were over yesterday and I made grilled chicken, remember?”

You hum as you get into your car and start driving to the market, though the conversation is cut short when you finally reach your destination. Walking through the aisle, you decide it would be a fine idea to grab some wine you both love. 

“Charles?” The brunette looks up, red wine in his hand as you smile a bit confused. “What are you doing here? I thought you were playing padel with Lorenzo.” 

“I was! Finished the game early and thought I would grab us some, uh—” Stepping closer, he kisses you and takes the kart. “Shopping for dinner?”

“Thought it’d be nice…” You look at the bottle and yes it’s red, but it's not the kind you both like. “Honey, you got the wrong one.” A panicked look flashes his face before he lets out a nervous laugh.

Of course! I’ll change it right now.

-

“It only took a couple more slip ups for me to find out.”

The therapist nods as her attention turns to Charles, where he plays with his bracelets. “And what made you stay?” You want to laugh. Are we just going to spend time on me? She shakes her head. “We’ll get to him, I just want to hear from you first.”

“After I confronted him he swore he’d stop seeing her. I guess it was my fault for even believing him.”

-

“Amour!”

He runs into the living room, kitchen, basement, everywhere. Breathing hard, he looks around the house as if the furniture will give up and tell him where you are. A loud thud echoes from upstairs. Two steps at a time, he darts quickly to the bedroom. His heart stops when he sees you packing a suitcase.

What are you doing?

You don’t answer. Don’t even spare a passing glance. Instead, you slip the gold band off your finger as you throw it behind you. It only falls a few steps in front of him. He picks it up as he makes his way to you. “I’m so sorry.”

Your back faces him, but you don’t dare make a single sound. You curl your hand against the dress you were folding, bite hard on your lip to not let out a single sob. But your chest hurts, your tears feel like acid against your skin, and you’re almost thankful for pain like that, that way what Charles did wouldn’t be the only thing that hurt.

He makes his way to kneel down in front of you as you stare down at the carpet. You had begged him only a few days ago to put down the deposit on it and for a while he said it wouldn’t be financially responsible, but later agreed. You hated it now.

“Why? Just…why?”

He’s far too embarrassed to even come up with an answer. “I don’t know.”

When you finally look up at him, he sees what he’s caused. Your eyes are bloodshot, your nose is rosy. Cheeks are so bright pink, it almost looked as if someone pinched them. 

You let out a wet laugh as you drop your hands against your lap. “You know, when I woke up this morning and you were gone I thought to myself—Wow! What did I do to deserve a husband who wakes up early enough to get me breakfast on my birthday? And I waited. And waited. But whatever. That’s fine! He probably got busy. Then, Pascale called to confirm if we were still going out for dinner, to which I said, ‘Yes! Of course!...Yes, the gold bracelet! It was beautiful, thank you for helping him pick it out.’ I thought it was sweet, I did, but you never came. And again, the presents are not what mattered, but it was you. I texted you. I called you. I told myself you were probably too busy planning something sweet the way you always did. They all asked where you were and I had to lie and tell them you were going to be late. Do you know how stupid I felt when I saw you and her enter the restaurant holding hands? And then what did I do? I purposefully had you see me run out so you could chase after me, so that your family would never find out about your…fling.”

Charles keeps bowing his head lower and lower almost as if to hide from his mistakes.

“...So where’s my bracelet, huh? Because you got it for me for my birthday, right?” Extending your hand out hurts because you know deep down it was never for you. 

“I don’t have it…” You click your tongue as you retract your arm. Of course you don’t, you seethe. With all your strength, you stand with wobbly knees as you start to walk away. 

“Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

And he should feel relieved, but instead he feels like a complete asshole. How could he ruin things with his wife who swore to love him with all her being? He knew you well enough to know that you always will and he couldn’t let that go. He would fix this.

He runs to the door to close it. Move, you spit out. He shakes his head as he hugs you. 

“S-stop,” you say in a shaky voice as warm tears begin to flow once more. “It’s okay, just let me go…”

You go stiff when you realize he’s crying into your neck. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…He just keeps repeating it and you can’t stop yourself from hugging him back. He loved you and you loved him. That’s all that mattered.

“Just don’t do it again, okay?”

-

“So he cheated: you forgave him. He put her first and your marriage second.”

You flinch at her words because they only remind you how true they are. For a while, you thought you could both get over it, but you never really did. Not when you were already both standing on opposite sides of the road.

“Mom always did say I always saw the best in people.”

“And you…” Charles gulps. “What made you fall into an affair?”

Months ago, when you first found out, he didn’t have any answer to that question. But he did now.

“I wasn’t smart enough to appreciate my wife.” He looks at you as you avoid eye contact because you know the moment you looked into his eyes, you would fall all over again.

But you still did.

His eyes are sorry, you could tell, and the way his hand makes his way to you is enough for you to grow warm despite the cold room. 

“I’ve made plenty of mistakes - I know that - but none of them could compare to what I did to us. For putting you through so much doubt…For making you think I didn’t love you, but I always did.”

You're crying now as you nod because this is all you ever needed to hear.

“If this was the bump in the road that we had to overcome to grow closer then I accept it because I love you too, Charles. It’s about time you realized that.”

-

Charles feels lighter, happier. Now that he gets to hold your hand after many fights, he’s reminded about all the things he loves about you. But nothing could have prepared him for you to let go of his hand.

“I want a divorce.”

He’s stunned. W-what? We just decided that we were fine, that we were moving on…

You shake your head as you laugh. “My apologies, God, did I make you believe a lie? Feels awful, doesn’t it?”

He furrows his brows as he tries to reach out for you but you keep stepping further back. “Back there you almost had me…You said, ‘...none of them would compare to what I did to us.’ Us. Did you suffer? Did you spend countless, empty nights, crying yourself to sleep wondering what you did wrong? No, because it was all me. It wasn’t what you did to us, it's what you did to me.” You spin your ring one last time before slipping it off and placing it in his hand. He wants to say something to make you change your mind, to oversee his past mistakes one more time, because he swore to himself it would be the last time. But he could tell you’ve made up your mind. You twist your heel, ready to walk away before taking one last look into his green eyes you once loved.

“And the baby is getting my last name.”

[msbigredmachine]

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Two

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake's masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine's masterlist

Word Count: 7.3k

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence

Banner made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

“Uhhnnn, fuck...baby I’m comin’...”

Angelo’s deep, rough voice broke as he yanked a little too hard on Ivy’s hair, causing her to wince from the sharp pain. He thrust inside her just as hard a few more times before his body seized up, his pelvis mashed against her backside to make her feel him pulsing inside her as he came. Not for the first time, she was thankful condoms were a thing and she always insisted that he had one on him before he touched her; there was no doubt he would get her pregnant the next chance he got with the aim of tethering himself even deeper into her life. It was apparent in the desperation with which his admittedly above-average dick dug all up in her pussy every time they got together. On the bright side, his efforts got the job done…Well, that, along with the frantic circling of her fingers around her clit that never failed to drag her to a long-awaited nut that currently had her moaning noisily into her bamboo sheets. Thank goodness her daughter was a long way down the hallway, fast asleep in her four-poster bed, oblivious to the late night goings-on of her dysfunctional parents.

She hissed with relief when Angelo finally released his vice grip, flopping onto his back, his sweat-slick chest heaving up and down. The same old routine followed, with him lazily and unwisely reaching out for a cuddle, prompting her standard rebuff of rolling away from him. She waited patiently for the gradual shift in his breathing, from heavy to relaxed, signaling that he was out like a light. Glancing over to confirm, she rolled her eyes with a huff. This dude left the condom on. Again. Even in his sleep, he was making her clean up after him. Exhaling heavily, she reached over to carefully slide the thin latex off his dick and tie it up in a knot, climbing out of the bed to dump it in the trash can nearby. 

The lights illuminating the paved streets outside her home seeped through her bedroom windows, shedding more light than was necessary considering it was deep into the night. She padded over to the window to draw down the roller blinds, making a mental reminder to herself to keep them closed more often now that the house across was occupied. Her fingers wavered when she noticed that the lights of his bedroom were still on. It piqued her curiosity as to what would be keeping him awake at this late hour. Work, perhaps?

And then, almost on cue, the hulking figure of her new neighbor came into view, and her breath caught.

Roman stepped out of what was probably his bathroom, his towel hanging dangerously low around his waist. His hair was down, long, silky and clearly wet, the droplets of water glistening against his bare chest. He was walking around the room, seemingly acquainting himself with the new space. Ivy was on the money with the athletic physique, unable to take her eyes off his bulging muscles, the ridges of his abs, and the intricate tribal tattoos adorning his right arm, pec and half of his back that only embellished the majesty and beauty of this stranger. Standing there like the voyeur she’d become, she allowed her mind to wander, to wonder what those taut, rippling muscles would feel like pressed against her nakedness, his long hair fanning her face as his big body pinned her down…his voice, deep and rough and needy in her ear, talking her through her pleasure…

So entranced was she in her fantasy that she didn’t realize he had pivoted in her direction, fully facing the window, until it was almost too late. Her eyes widened as his hands slid south, unraveling the towel from his waist…

Gasping in alarm, she quickly turned away, fumbling with the blinds to snatch them shut. She leaned against the wall, her cheeks blazing, hand on her hammering heart as it dawned on her that she’d almost seen him naked.

And yet, as scandalized as she was, a small part of her wished she did. 

Damn.

Willing away the disappointment and the stirring in her loins, she dragged herself back to bed, hoping she would get some sleep.

Morning arrived too quickly for her liking, and she was up too early considering it was her day off, with her next shift not until tomorrow. Untangling herself carefully from Angelo’s clingy grasp, she rolled onto her side and checked the time on her phone charging on her nightstand. Seven a.m. was a decent hour to take Duchess out for a morning walk and be back home in time for Zaia to be out of bed so they could make red velvet pancakes together, assuming she wouldn’t be glued to her father’s side like she liked to be. 

Climbing out of bed carefully so as not to wake Angelo and kick off her day on a sour note, she threw on a forest-green sports bra and matching leggings from Actively Black, along with a pair of Nike sneakers, and wrapped up her hair in a bun on top of her head. Grabbing her phone and headphones, she stopped by Zaia’s room to check on her. As expected, her baby was sound asleep, buried beneath her Disney Princesses duvet. Ivy would have woken her up to join her but she wanted her to rest; she’d worked so hard all week in school and with her chores and therefore earned this Saturday morning lie-in. 

Laying by Zaia’s bedside, Duchess’ head snapped up when the door opened. She bolted across the room towards Ivy, her tail wagging excitedly, bouncing on her hind legs and pawing at her mama’s shins.

"Hi, girl! You awake? You’re a good girl, yes, you are!" Ivy cooed softly, shutting the bedroom door quietly before lifting Duchess in her arms to be attacked with excited licks and doggy breath. "Come on, let’s go for a walk." Grabbing her leash, harness and a water bottle, she headed downstairs and out the door. 

The route was a simple one, the expanse of tarred road sandwiched between rows of houses of various sizes and styles leading down a winding path to the public park. The weather was perfect, the fresh air sweeping over Ivy's face with a calming, peaceful feeling that was a stark contrast from the controlled chaos of her life. She let Duchess lead the way, the little dog stopping every now and then to sniff a tree or bark at an innocent squirrel. Another sharp turn round the bend brought them to the entrance of the dog park. Lowering her headphones around her neck, Ivy settled down on a nearby bench, watching Duchess run towards the puppy playground. It was relatively empty with just two other owners and their equally small dogs, but she was sure she’d leave once it became crowded. To pass the time, she scrolled through her unread emails, responding to the urgent ones while keeping a watchful eye on Duchess. A flash of movement to her left caught her attention, and looking up, her heart raced in her chest.

Slowing down to a stop on the pedestrian path, dusting his knees off, was Roman. Even with a beanie and a hoodie covering his head, there was no mistaking his striking features; the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jawline framed by his thick beard. His long-sleeved Nike shirt clung to his upper body, straining the fabric’s futile attempt to contain the burgeoning muscles underneath. Ivy found herself taking a swig of her water due to the heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun.

She shouldn’t have disturbed him. She should have let him go about his day - but her mouth and hand moved faster than her brain, waving from her seat, “Hey Roman!” She watched him glance around in search of her voice, a hint of apprehension on his handsome face before his eyes landed on her. His tight frown bloomed into a bright smile that sparked a sensation similar to the one last night when she was ‘spying’ on him. The way he walked exuded confidence and power, commanding the space around him, as she noticed, to her chagrin, other women doing double takes as he passed by them. 

"Wassup, neighbor? This seat taken?" he asked.

"Not at all,” she answered, a little too eagerly as he settled down on the opposite side of her bench, keeping a respectable gap between them which allowed her to gawk…respectfully. His dri-fit shorts accentuated the thickness of his thigh muscles that flexed when he shifted, inadvertently drawing her eyes there. She’d seen a lot of him last night and internally she craved more, craved to see exactly what lay underneath. The sunlight enriched his caramel skin, the light sheen of sweat giving him a vibrant glow. Ivy swallowed hard, willing herself to remain composed. “How’s your morning going?” she asked.

“Great, now that I’m talkin’ to you,” Roman smiled at her, leaning back in his seat to admire her in her sports bra and high-waist tights, her afro curls piled high on top of her head. “You look really nice.”

The blush threatened to burn her cheeks as she tugged shyly at her top. “Thanks. It’s just sportswear though.”

“Maybe, but that don’t change what I said,” he insisted, his deep brown eyes deliberately scanning her body. A shiver swept up her spine at the growing intensity as he looked at her. Flustered, she played it off by looking around for Duchess who happened to be just a foot away, racing two other dogs around the canine condo.

“I see you came alone,” Roman observed, “Your little girl alright?”

“She’s good. Sleeping in. She’s been a busy bee all week so she’s earned the rest. We’re gonna make pancakes when I get back.”

“Hmm, sounds delicious. I heard you call her Zaia? Am I right?”

“Correct. It means ‘precious’ in Arabic.” A fond smile fell over her features at the thought of her bright, beautiful little six-year old angel.

Roman nodded, digesting the information. “It's a great name. Pretty, just like her mama’s.” 

Ivy looked away, her grin now bashful. “Here you go again with the compliments.”

“We still on that, huh? You do owe me a couple yourself,” Roman replied with a cute smirk that made her warm all over. “I’m still working on it, tryna find the right time,” she joked.

“Any time is a good time for a compliment.” His smile faltered, his cheery tone hardening slightly, “Unless you’re worried about the boyfriend. He still bein’ a headache?” 

Ivy scoffed. She’d almost forgotten about him. Almost. “He's not my boyfriend. We share a child, that’s it.”

“Oh? He made it pretty clear when he was all over you and then tried to jump me.”

She almost laughed at that. One look at Roman quickly erased any scenario where he could be jumped. “About that…I’m really sorry…he can be a little…assertive sometimes,” she began.

But Roman shook his head, his nose turned up. “Don’t apologize for him. He might be your kid’s father but you’re not responsible for his foolishness.”

Most times he didn’t give her a choice in the matter, forced to deal with the mess afterwards. “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” she sighed.

“That’s my point. There shouldn’t be a next time,” he replied, staring into her eyes, the sincerity radiating from them unnerving her a little. Her issues with Angelo was the last thing she wanted to talk about, especially with a relative stranger. Thankfully she was given a way out as the playground started to fill up with more people. “Well, I’ve been out long enough. It’s time I headed home,” she announced, getting to her feet. “Duchess! Come here, girl!”

"Cute little puppy. How long have you had her for?" Roman enquired, watching her hook the leash and harness around the puppy.

"About three months. She was Zaia’s birthday present from my friend Gemini. She’ll be eight months old next week. She and Zaia keep me fit with their combined energy," Ivy explained with a laugh, going quiet for a moment. “What happened to your hand, by the way?” She nodded at the white crepe bandage wrapped around his left hand that was peeking through his sleeve. 

Glancing down, he cleared his throat and shifted his hand out of view, seemingly embarrassed by his injury. “Oh. Knife wound. I was meal prepping and accidentally sliced my palm. A little bit of bleeding but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Wow, that must have hurt. I can take a look at it if you want, make sure it’s-”

Roman smiled and waved away her concern. “I know that’s your nurse instincts poppin’ out, but I’m fine. Don’t worry your pretty little self. But who knows? Maybe somewhere down the road I might need you for…other things,” he finished with a sly wink.

The lowered bass of his voice had Ivy biting her lip at the blatant innuendo, not missing the way his eyes flickered to her mouth. She grinned sheepishly and shook her head, tugging gently on Duchess’ leash. “Alright then, I’ll leave you to your workout…”

“I’m done, actually, and I’m about to head home. I can drop you off too, if you'd like. I drove here,” Roman offered.

For a split second, she imagined Angelo’s reaction to her pulling up in another man’s car. But the visual was gone as quickly as it surfaced. It was none of his business. “Sure.” 

As they approached the parking lot, her eyes widened as he remotely unlocked the doors to a shiny, sleek black Maserati GranCabrio. “Is that yours? Oh, you ballin’, ballin’,” she remarked, noting the blush creep up his cheeks as he opened the passenger’s door for her. “I do alright,” he mumbled.

“Wow. What do you do? I don’t think I’ve asked.” 

“I’m a Senior Finance Manager at an accounting firm downtown,” he answered, starting the car and letting the top down. “But I also freelance for private individuals, angel investors, pro and college athletes. I mainly work remotely, so you’ll be seeing me at home often.”

Ivy settled in her seat, awed by the lush beige color of the interior, feeling slightly intimidated being inside such an expensive car. “Well, they’re treating you real well,” she said. 

“They’d better, I work my ass off for ‘em,” Roman chortled, backing out of the parking lot. 

Conversation flowed easily on the drive home. Ivy did her best to keep her eyes on the road, but she couldn’t resist taking the occasional peek at Roman while they chatted. She noticed he was doing the same, sprouting more butterflies in her belly. As they pulled up to their street, he killed the engine next to his sidewalk. A tentative silence fell between them that would probably have been suffocating if it weren’t for Duchess’ routine panting. Ivy dared another glance at the big man, the feeling in her stomach intensifying as those gorgeous eyes of his lingered on her again.

“Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it,” she whispered, gathering Duchess in her arms.

Roman smiled. “Not a problem. Tell Zaia I said hi.”

“I will.” Another long look, another grateful grin before she stepped out of the car and crossed the street towards her front door, fully aware that his gaze was still on her, fully aware that she liked his gaze on her. A lot.

However, a deep frown replaced her giddy smile when the door swung open, Angelo standing there, his face like thunder. The darkening of his light eyes as he glanced over her shoulder and the sound of the Maserati’s door slamming shut told her the two men had locked metaphorical horns, the tension pulsing from both sides.

“What the fuck! I know I ain’t just seen you come out of his car,” Angelo hissed.

“Wassup, man. Ivy, you good?” Roman called out behind her. Stoking the fire.

Quick to douse it before it raged, Ivy threw a smile his way. “I’m fine! Thanks again!” Not waiting for a reply, she ushered Angelo back into the house and set Duchess on her feet, the puppy immediately dashing away in search of Zaia. “If you must know, I ran into him at the park and he offered to bring me home,” she explained, entering the kitchen. “I had to apologize to him for that disrespectful crap you pulled yesterday. I get along with all my neighbors and you’re not about to fuck that up for me.”

“Get along, huh? Zaia coulda seen you. How you think that’s gonna look, her mama joyriding with some other dude, huh?” Angelo demanded, his eyes narrowed accusingly.

Incensed, Ivy spun around, glared at him. “Are you using my daughter to gaslight me, Angelo? Seriously?”

“Our daughter, Ivy! You out here lookin’ like a thot and for what? Is that the example you wanna set for our kid? Where’s your sense of self-respect?”

Clearly, the audacity of the man she called her daughter’s father knew no bounds. “Respect?! Like the respect you showed me when you cheated on me?” Ivy countered, crossing her arms, fire in her eyes. “When you only came crawling back because that bitch dumped your slow ass and left for California? When you refused to be in ‘your kid’s’ life until you had a DNA test done, despite your dumbass knowing you’re the only one I was with? Refresh my memory, Angelo!” 

Silence. Deafening. Tense. Truth.

Angelo shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke, his tone low and exasperated. “Why you keep doin’ this shit, Ivy? How many times do I gotta apologize for that?”

“I don’t want your apology. I don’t need it,” she snapped. “You lost my trust a long time ago and nothing you say or do will ever change that. Period.” She trailed off, focusing on the clock on the wall like she’d learned to rein in her emotions. It was only eight o’clock and she had a headache already. Rinse and repeat. “Don’t you got some conference to be at?” she threw at him, eager for him to be out of her face.

Bristling at her harsh dismissal, Angelo sucked his teeth, snatching his belongings off the countertop. “Ol’ meathead ass gives you some attention and now you got a fucking attitude.” His sigh was heavy and dramatic as he finally, thankfully walked away. Her eyes closed with a sigh of her own, the familiar gnawing in her chest surfacing as she overheard her daughter’s sniffles from the living room pleading with her daddy not to go, him soothing her and promising that he would be back soon. Her heart broke for Zaia, but selfishly, she was glad he was out of her space, even going as far as to wish, yet again, that he could take it one step further and be out of her life, too.

A crime documentary come to life. 

The news reporter stood in the neck of the woods, under the shaded protection of a few giant sequoias and a couple of smaller deciduous trees, a short distance away from a clearing that was cordoned off with caution tape guarded by several uniformed cops. In the background, a body bag was being loaded onto a gurney. The face of the victim splashed across the screen made Ivy’s blood run cold.

She’d seen the young woman, Rhea, just three days ago at the hospital. They didn’t interact, but she was hard to forget with her pale skin, numerous tattoos and goth clothing that stood her out from all the other patients at the Gynecology ward. Never did Ivy imagine she’d be dead just days later. Murdered. The news said she had been reported missing yesterday and was found by a jogger, bound and gagged with her throat slit from ear to ear. The woods were close to the dog park, so to know that such a horrific crime was committed so nearby, while she was out there just this morning with Duchess, sent chills down her spine.

“I’m still in shock,” she confided in her best friend Gemini over FaceTime, adjusting her iPad on her kitchen island. “I remember seeing her in the hospital earlier this week. She was so young, barely in her twenties. Who could have done that to her?”

“That’s what everyone’s trying to figure out,” Gemini said, her expression grim as she lounged on her patio. “I spoke to Officer Gable. He says she was killed in her home then her body was dumped in the woods either last night or early this morning.” She dropped another bombshell. “And get this…this hasn’t been made public yet, but they also found a positive pregnancy test in her backpack.”

Ivy clapped a hand over her mouth, floored. That poor girl was pregnant?! “Oh my god.”  

“I know, it’s wild. They’re looking for her boyfriend, Dominik. Apparently he’s outta town but they’re ruling him as the prime suspect,” Gemini went on, “If you ask me, I think there might be a serial killer on the loose. She’s not the only one that’s turned up dead in the last few months in the surrounding counties.”

If it weren’t for the severity of the situation, Ivy would have rolled her eyes. “What? Gem, don’t start with all that again.”

“Girl, you haven’t been following this like I have. Similar cases happened in the last three months in Fairfield and Middlesex. A couple of twenty-something year old women. Throats slit, dumped in ditches and bushes. The M.O.’s are all the same.”

Casting a quick glance over at the living room where Zaia was dancing with Duchess to ‘The Veggie Dance’ by Gracie’s Corner, Ivy shifted to a quieter side of the kitchen to prevent her baby from overhearing this gruesome conversation. “Well, let’s not jump to conclusions when the police don’t even have all the facts. What does the group think about this?” she asked, referring to the local Neighborhood Watch of which Gemini was a member. In the three years she had lived here, they had only dealt with vandalism and break-ins. To her knowledge, nothing this violent had ever occurred in this harmless, almost sleepy little town, and it spooked Ivy that it happened so close to home.

“We’re having a meeting tomorrow to update everyone and address safety concerns we know will be brought up. Make sure no one’s panicking unnecessarily.” Gemini chuckled at the trepidation on her friend’s face. “Girl, relax. Zaia, Duchess and I will protect you.” There was a brief pause as she stood up from her lounge chair and walked around her backyard pool. “Want me to come over later? I haven’t seen my two babies in a while.”

Enticed by the thought of having company that wasn’t Angelo, Ivy happily replied, “Of course, babe, you never have to ask. How about dinner tonight?” 

“You know I could never say no to your cooking.” Gemini wrinkled her nose. “But if that bitch baby daddy of yours is still lurkin’ then I’ll pass.”

“Nope. He’s away for the weekend,” Ivy assured her.

“When will I hear he’s away for good?” Gemini prodded, her words drawing a sigh of defeat from Ivy. It said a lot that none of her friends got along with Angelo. If she had a dime for every time Gemini warned her to get rid of him, she’d be living in the Hamptons instead. But she understood that she was only looking out for her and she would always appreciate it and reciprocate accordingly.

Beautiful, wisecracking and often cynical, Gemini was a successful, high-powered corporate lawyer with a love for fashion trends and (Ivy called this an obsession) crime and mystery shows that fed into her crazy, oft-amusing conspiracy theories. Like Ivy, she often had it tough with relationships, swearing off men every couple of months. It didn’t help that suitors were usually intimidated by her financial status and her brash, blunt nature. But all of that also came with a heart of gold. Ivy would never forget her hospitality, being the first to welcome her and Zaia with open arms when she first arrived in town. Helping her secure the mortgage on her house. Taking Zaia to the local dog shelter on her birthday and pairing her little girl with the most loyal companion she would probably ever have. She was the life of the party everywhere she went, including Ivy’s household, as she sauntered through her doorstep later that evening with a big bottle of Pinot Noir and an even bigger hug for her favorite niece. The wine was very welcome, as Ivy was forced to abstain around Angelo who was a recovering alcoholic. 

Together, the women moved the food to the dining table, with little Zaia playing her role as the dutiful assistant to her mama and aunt and filling up Duchess’ food and water bowls. As they settled down to eat, a knock on the front door startled them, their heads whipping in its direction. Gemini exchanged a look with Ivy. “Expecting someone else?” 

“No…” With a heightened sense of caution, Ivy crept towards the door and opened it, surprised to see Roman standing behind it. “Hey,” she greeted, a hint of concern in her tone. “What’s up? Everything alright?”

“Hi…wow,” His greeting was distracted, rendered temporarily speechless as he took in her sweater minidress that clung to her generous curves. “Uh…sorry if this is a bad time, but I was wondering if I can borrow some sugar? I’m trying to bake cookies for my office party in the morning and I haven’t got time to run to the store.” Scratching the back of his head sheepishly, he continued, “I know it’s cliche as hell, but I thought I’d come over and ask since your cooking smells so delicious.” 

Corny request or not, it was way too charming to turn down. Not that she would. “Mr. Compliments does it again. Come on in.” She motioned for him to follow her inside and into the warm, homey atmosphere of her kitchen. His eyes glossed over the spread of food on the table, then fell upon the two other sets of eyes staring back at him, one innocent, the other suspicious. “I see I’ve interrupted dinner, sorry about that, ladies,” he said, a demure, friendly smile gracing his lips as he waved.

Gemini got to her feet, almost burning a hole through this stranger with her sharp gaze. “Ivy, who is this?” she demanded with an attitude, making Ivy shake her head behind Roman’s back. Her friend always had a hard time warming up to new people.

“Gem, this is Roman, my new neighbor. He moved across the street a couple of days ago. Roman, this is my friend Gemini,” she introduced them, watching Roman extend his hand, the other woman hesitating for a long beat before shaking it. “Hi, Gemini. Nice to meet you.”

Gemini gave him a tight smile. “Hi. So you’re the one who got that big ass house.”

Well, that went as well as it could have.

“Zaia, wanna say hello to Mr Roman?” Ivy encouraged her daughter. The little girl cocked her head to the side, and Roman noticed how much she resembled Ivy at that moment. “Hello, Mr Roman. You’re really tall,” she pointed out, her eyes filled with awe. 

“Thank you Zaia, I get that a lot,” he laughed, crouching down to pet Duchess who had bounded over happily, recognizing him from earlier this morning. Ivy rummaged through her walnut kitchen cabinets looking for the bag of sugar she had purchased a month or two ago. Locating it, she handed it to Roman along with a small-sized cookbook. “Here. You can use as much as you need. And I earmarked the page for the recipe for chocolate chip cookies, in case you need it.”

“You are so kind. I appreciate that,” said Roman, his deep brown eyes shifting downwards shyly. The subtle action did something to her, compelling her to utter next,

“Would you like to stay for dinner? We’re having Cajun chicken pasta and Caesar salad,” she spoke up, ignoring the look Gemini leveled at her. It was the way his eyes softened right away, clearly touched by her gesture, that let her know she did the right thing.

“I’d love to.” His smile lit up the room, warming Ivy’s heart. This was her house. She could invite anyone she wanted. Attraction aside, Roman seemed like a really sweet guy that just needed new friends in this new town.

In no time though, he and Zaia became fast friends, discussing everything from their favorite cartoons and hobbies to their favorite subjects at school, and the rather funnier topic of why the adults could have wine and she couldn’t. Even Gemini seemed to warm up to him over the course of dinner, also seduced by his charm and wit. Watching them all talking and laughing caused a funny sensation to stir within Ivy, but she banished any wayward thoughts before they had the chance to settle. 

Afterwards, Roman began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Ivy to rush over before he could move too far. “Er, no booboo. You’re a guest here.” She turned to her daughter. "Baby, why don't you take your fruit salads to the living room and turn on the TV for Mr Roman?” she suggested.

“Yes, ma’am! Come on, Mr Roman.” Zaia’s little fingers closed around his thick forearm, Roman briefly glancing back at her mother as he was all but dragged away, Ivy simply giving him a reassuring smile as they disappeared from the kitchen.

“You like him.” 

Never one to beat around the bush, was she? Gemini’s words shook Ivy inwardly as she fought to maintain a poker face. “Girl, we’ve only known each other for a couple of days.”

“And he likes you,” Gemini continued, easily rebuffing her lame excuses. “I saw the way y’all kept looking at each other, you giggling like a damn school girl at his jokes. You could cut the tension with a damn steak knife. I wonder how Angelo’s gonna feel about that.”

Ivy raised an eyebrow. “Since when do you care about Angelo’s feelings?” 

“Never. But I bet he’d combust into flames if he was here,” Gemini smiled evilly.

Sighing heavily, Ivy loaded the last plate in the dishwasher. “Do you know he got into it with Roman on the first day? A whole shouting match. Barely twenty-four hours since the new neighbor moved in and he’s already fighting the guy. This was just me kinda trying to make up for it.”

“What?! I’d love to see that fight. My money’s on the dude that looks like a linebacker.” The stretch of silence that followed was ominous, and Ivy could already forecast her next words. “I’ll admit. He seems…nice. Sexy as hell. Charming and all that shit. But I need you to be careful, hun. There's an energy about him that I can’t put my finger on.”

Unsure she was ready for this lecture, Ivy rubbed her temples. “Judgmental much? You only just met him.”

“I’m good at reading people. You know this.”

“And I’m just being a good neighbor. You know this.”

“I do. You can’t help yourself, my sweet, wonderful bestie,” Gemini playfully nudged her friend with her shoulder. “But don’t forget you have a young daughter to look out for. I don’t want either of you to get hurt by getting too close too fast.”

Taking in a calming breath, Ivy spoke again, slow and measured to keep the peace. “Gem. I love you and I appreciate you always. But I’ll be okay. I promise,” she answered, her eyes shining with resolve.

As the two women continued to gossip, Roman stood silently by the entrance of the kitchen, his expression unreadable as he listened to every word.

Another long, tough week segued to another weekend of needed rest which found Ivy relaxing in her newly purchased hanging daybed, watching her daughter and her puppy play together as 2000s R&B tunes wafted through the Bluetooth speakers stationed in her backyard. However, her watchful eye was a bit distracted today as it kept glancing over her picket fence for any sign of Roman, who seemed to have vanished without a trace in the past few days. His outdoor chairs remained unoccupied, no coffee mug on his side tables, the house as quiet and empty as it was before he moved in. The serial killer discourse with Gemini and the feedback from the Neighborhood Watch had her feeling slightly more agitated these days, and as absurd as it was, she found herself hoping that her new neighbor hadn’t suffered the same fate as Rhea…

There was no need to worry. Maybe he was caught up with work, or was away visiting friends or family. Either way, she found herself missing his looming yet comforting presence, missed seeing the crinkles around his eyes that accompanied his sunny smile, longed for the longing glances they’d shared far too many times to count now... 

Blowing out her cheeks, she leaned back and closed her eyes, hoping to clear her head. For someone who she just met, he was on the brain way too much. She hadn’t felt this way about anyone in a long time and she wasn’t sure how to feel about it. At all.

“Hi Mr Roman!”

Zaia’s excited voice, as well as the deep one that followed her daughter’s greeting, startled her from her thoughts as her eyes flew back open, landing on his big frame as he stood at the fence that separated their homes. Ivy rose to her feet, trying to ignore the relief, excitement and nervousness bubbling inside her as she approached him slowly, their eyes locked. Other than the bags forming under his irises, he was still as handsome as ever, his cable-knit sweater and dark jeans giving off that polished, modelesque aesthetic she’d become accustomed to.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he said to her, the sound of his voice deep and soothing and sorely missed.

“Hey, stranger. Been a minute. Are you okay?” she asked, getting her answer from the way he dragged a big hand down his face with a loaded sigh. She noticed the bandage was gone. “How’s your hand?”

“Good as new.” Roman lifted his now bare hand and rotated it for emphasis. “As for my absence, just work stuff. Back-to-back late hours. It be like that sometimes. I hope you didn’t miss me too much.” He met her stare with a knowing smile, the same smile that made her swoon since the day they first met, and not the first time had her averting her gaze, tugging coyly at the hem of her retro Backstreet Boys t-shirt. 

“I never got to properly thank you for dinner, and for the cookie recipe,” he continued, “It was a big hit at the office, everyone loved it.”

Ivy beamed. “Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad to hear that.” 

“Man, you saved my ass, that’s for sure. You’ve been so wonderful to me, Ivy, and I was hoping I could repay it by taking you out to dinner sometime.” Gauging her raised eyebrows, he chuckled softly as he raised his hands in mock surrender. “Ay, I woulda stayed home and cooked somethin’, but my skills could never measure up to yours or my wife’s.”

Wife.

This was the first time he’d mentioned a spouse of any kind. There was no ring on his finger, so there was a story there, one she felt compelled to know more about.

“Your wife…Is she not here with you?” she asked, treading lightly on what she could already tell was a sensitive subject.

Roman was silent for a moment, then when he spoke again, his voice was a little more than a hoarse whisper. “Nah, she isn't. She, uh, passed away last year.”

That explained it. The haunted expression she perceived lurking behind the vibrance of his eyes. Carrying the burden of grief and heartbreak that she empathized with more than he would ever know. “Oh my gosh. I’m so sorry,” she whispered. 

Clearing his throat, he managed a nod, returning the sincere look she gave him. “Thanks. It’s been…rough, to say the least. But I’m hangin’ in there. One day at a time, ya know?”

He looked so sad, so worn down by opening up about his loss, and it tugged at her heartstrings. Without thinking, she reached out to rub his arm, offering him comfort, solace. When his eyes shut at her touch, she feared she had toed a line, crossed it, even. Until he opened them again, the sadness wiped away by a searing heat she felt in her bones. Her heart raced as he shifted their hands to link their fingers together, sending a defibrillator’s worth of electricity through her curvy figure. Fuck. He was looking at her that way again. All intense and serious and sexy and all sorts of tempting. She didn’t want him to ever look away. 

There was no denying the mutual attraction that simmered between them. It was clear as day. But it was also clear that he was still grieving and was lonely and craved some semblance of comfort. Yet, she found herself wanting to give him that comfort. She wanted to get to know him. She wanted to jump over the fence and into his sturdy arms, wanted to kiss those soft-looking lips of his. To know what his hair felt like between her fingers…

How she missed it, she wasn’t sure. The roar of the engine of the Lexus pulling into the driveway, the owner of the vehicle storming through her house. She’d been so lost in Roman and in his aura and the intimate moment they were sharing that she hadn’t even heard Angelo barreling into her home like he always did until he was standing in front of them. Her deer-in-the-headlights countenance could not have helped her cause as Angelo looked from her to Roman and then back again, zoning in on their entwined hands, the bewilderment on his face giving way to blind wrath. 

“Motherfucker, I thought I told you to stay away from my girl!” Swiping Ivy aside with enough force to send her crashing against the fence, he shoved Roman hard in the chest, knocking him a few steps back. “Oh I see what this is! You wanna fuck my woman, huh?” 

“Angelo stop!” Ivy yelled as in the distance, Zaia began to cry. Grimacing through her pain, she tugged him by the arm and dragged him forcibly away, which was a tough task as he was nearly a foot taller than her, outweighed her by a good fifty pounds and vibrated with misplaced rage. Glancing behind her, she watched with an almost morbid fascination as Roman’s disposition completely shifted, his gorgeous face twisted with unbridled fury. 

“You put your fucking hands on me?!” In what seemed like slow motion, the much bigger and much taller man leapt smoothly over her fence like it was nothing. He propelled forwards with long strides like an angry bull across her backyard and into her house in a matter of seconds. “A’ight, I’m tired of being humble! You wanna fuss like a lil’ bitch, let’s go!” 

Guiding Zaia and Duchess to safety, Ivy’s anxiety reached a fever pitch as the two men stood literally nose to nose sizing each other up in the middle of her living room. “Guys, please! Zaia’s here!” she pleaded.

Angelo puffed out his chest as he eyeballed his adversary smugly. “Don’t get yourself hurt cuz you tryna comfort my bitch or my kid when I ain’t around. You in my house, fool,” he threatened.

Thick eyebrows raised in cruel amusement, Roman looked around the house. “Funny, I don’t see your name or your face anywhere.” He leaned in closer, his next words loud enough for only the other man to hear, “But pretty soon, your bitch gon’ be screamin’ my name and sittin’ on my face,” he bragged, pointing at his chin, hoping, praying that the punk bitch would take the bait. 

Too easy.

With teeth bared, Angelo swung at him. Wildly and carelessly enough for Roman to dodge easily and retaliate with his huge fist smashing into the other man’s face. There was an ugly cracking sound, and blood spurted from Angelo’s nose as his head snapped back and he stumbled backwards.

“Stop it! Stop it right now!” Ivy cried, but it was to no avail as Angelo lunged again, crashing into Roman. She threw herself between them, trying and woefully failing to pull the warring men apart who were seeing nothing but red as they beat the crap out of each other.

“Daddy, stop fighting! You’re gonna hurt Mama!”

Zaia, bless her brave little heart, was at her father’s side, tugging desperately on his sleeve. It all happened so fast, Ivy only able to see the moment Angelo lashed out blindly, his hand smacking Zaia right in the face. Her scream of pain as her little body collapsed on the ground pierced the air, plunging the room into stone cold silence.

“Mama!” Zaia burst into fresh tears as she clutched her face with one hand, the other reaching out to Ivy who quickly rushed over, scooping her into her arms and gently cradling her little head as she wailed loudly and clutched at Ivy for dear life.

A bloodied Angelo clambered to his feet, visibly devastated by his mistake. “Baby…Princess, I’m so sorry…Daddy didn't mean—”

“No! Don’t touch her!” Ivy snapped, backing away. Enough was enough. “I told you to stop. I told you!” Grasping her baby carefully, she glowered at him through unshed tears of anger. “Get the fuck out of my house! Now!” she hissed.

Swallowing hard, Angelo edged forwards again, his eyes full of regret and focused on his daughter sobbing into her mother's shoulder. “Zaia-”

“I said get out!” Ivy shouted again, feeling for the first time in a long time, nothing but disgust towards her ex-boyfriend. “I’ve had enough of your childish bullshit, enough of you!” She hated cursing in front of her baby girl, but her father had pushed her to her absolute limit. “Leave and never come back. You’re not welcome here anymore.” He could perform his fatherly duties from across town. Today was the last day he was setting foot in this house. 

Stunned, his face contorted indignantly at her words. “You playin’, right? You seriously gonna do this? It was an accident! Zaia, come here. Come to Daddy,” He extended his hands towards his daughter, his features sagging in dismay when she burrowed deeper into Ivy’s bosom, refusing to look at her dad as her sniffles intensified. 

“She asked you to leave. Several times.” Roman towered over Angelo menacingly, his big body shielding Ivy and Zaia. “Don’t make her repeat it again.” 

Angelo tilted his chin defiantly. “And if I don’t?”

“Then you deal with me. I’ll be happy to whoop your ass again,” Roman said simply, silently daring the son of a bitch to make a wrong move. 

“Baby, you trippin’. That’s my daughter! This meathead nigga needs to know that he’s oversteppin’! You’re mine!”

“No I’m not!” Her reply was cold and exhausted. “We’ve been over for years, Angelo! Get that into your thick skull and get out of my life!”

Scoffing snidely, the man’s blood-stained sneer was a frightening visual as he walked backwards out the front door, talking his shit on his way to his car. “You’re not keepin’ me away from my child. You need me, Ivy. You’ll come crawling back,” he growled, then pointed angrily at Roman, “And whoever the fuck you think your bitch ass is, bet, I’mma see about you...”

Roman stood in the driveway, muscular arms crossed over his torn, blood-stained sweater, watching like a hawk as the piece of shit backed out onto the road and drove off. He looked down at Ivy to his left. “Are you oka-”

But she had already retreated into the safety of her house, slamming the door shut. Roman returned his attention to the Lexus driving down the street, silently vowing that today would be the last time Angelo would ever be seen again.

Thanks for reading and thanks again to this anon for the story idea. Your replies and reblogs would be much appreciated if you enjoyed!

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[pimosworld]

Hi it’s me!! Since you are open to requests, could you please do a very fluffy smut with Joel where the reader is very insecure about her body and he makes her feel loved and it’s just so sweet?? In need of a comfort daddy Joel 🥺

Pairing- Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary- Joel wants you to see your body the way he does, a work of art.

CW-18+, MDNI, NSFW, A smidge of angst because (body image issues), Fluff,miscommunication, reader is not described other than not feeling herself lately, Soft dom Joel, smut, body worship, mirror sex, fingering, unprotected piv, cream pie, self acceptance, no use of y/n

WC-2.0k

[Joel Miller Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

A\N- My first Joel request and I would say I was feeling inspired by some body issues I’ve had lately. Thank you anon for this lovely request I hope I did it justice.

Clothing optional

There was a war going on in your house. Two separate wars to be exact, although you personally had no idea about one of them. 

  You’re currently on the frontlines in your room with a pile of mass casualties on the floor beside you. As you stand and face the mirror in front of you it’s unclear who the enemy is. Logic would have you believe it’s the clothes, the clothes that fit not long ago…that much you’re sure of. The cruel part of your brain, the part you couldn’t seem to shut off was telling you the enemy was your body. This body that has carried you through life, through ups and downs, through grief and happiness. Yet you stand here and shame it, calling it the enemy. 

  This dress, one that you were never really that fond of but could always rely on it fitting was the straw that broke the camel's back. It hugs in all the wrong places and definitely seems shorter than you remembered the last time you put it on. The lace at the seams is frayed a little and you swore you heard a stitch pop when you tried to unzip yourself. Now you’re frozen in fear that you’re stuck in this godforsaken thing and you’ve still not figured out what you’re wearing to impress Joel’s business partners. He was always so put together, what could they possibly think of you by his side. 

  “Sugar ya in there?” A knock on the bedroom door and Joel’s sweet voice causes you to panic. 

  You’re not even close to being ready. Tears streaming down your face, makeup ruined and your claustrophobia is aching to get out of this dress. 

  “Don’t come in.” Your garbled voice is evident all rushed out in a frenzy as you hear the door swing open. 

  ****

  The other war. 

  A war that’s been silently brewing in the house over the last few weeks. Joel noticed something different about you. It took him a lot longer than he’d cared to admit once he realized. He knew your body in and out. Every freckle, every line, every scar or birthmark. He’d made it his mission in life to be able to pick you out of a lineup blindfolded, only tasked with his hands or his mouth.

  He was insatiable for you. 

  He never understood when other men would say that after some time you won’t be as obsessed with each other. After marriage things become monotonous and it feels like a chore. He loved chores, being able to complete a task. If loving you and worshiping your body was a chore then he wanted that duty everyday. 

  At first he thought he must’ve said or done something to upset you. He knew his mouth could be pretty reckless at times so he gave you a few days to cool off.

  When you shy away from him or insisted your shirt stayed on during sex he started to grow suspicious. Maybe he hadn’t told you enough how much he appreciated your body. He thought he did a pretty good job of it but things get complicated when you’re in the heat of the moment. He made your brain go all fuzzy and it was hard to concentrate on what he was sayin’. 

  He’d had just about had enough when he walked into the kitchen the other day. You were reaching something high up on the shelf. Instead of asking if you needed help he just stood there ogling you as your shorts rode up, exposing the bottom of your ass. He wanted to sink his teeth into it. He wanted to grip your thighs and bend you over the counter. He could just imagine it as he pounded into you from behind while you screamed his name, the ripples from his thrusts dancing across your skin. You looked so startled when you saw him there, his eyes blown black with lust as he stepped towards you. His heart broke a little when you scurried away and returned aggressively wrapping your robe around you. 

  ****

  A peace offering. 

  You knew there was no way he was staying outside at any sign of your distress. He enters your shared bedroom slowly like he’s approaching a frightened animal. You’re sure you look like one in your state. 

  He’s quite the opposite. Crisp black on black suit, his hair combed back out of his face to show off those beautiful brown eyes. His cologne wafts towards you with hints of bergamot and cedar wood. Just the sight of him has you weak in the knees. 

  “You wanna tell me what’s got ya all worked up?” He takes a tentative step towards you as you shake your head and wrap your arms around yourself. 

  He clicks his tongue, hating how defeated you look right now. “Listen sugar, I’m gonna count to ten.” He gently unfurls your arms from you and wraps them around his middle. “And by the time I get to ten.” You take a shuddering breath against his chest relishing in the comfort he’s bringing you. “You’re gonna tell me what’s wrong.” 

  “One.” 

  “None of my clothes fit, I hate the way I look right now and I don’t want to embarrass you tonight because I look ridiculous standing next to you in some dress that I hate.” It’s all rushed out and muffled into his chest as he cradles your head and rocks you back and forth. 

  “Is that all?” He teases as you nod your head. “I’m thinkin’ maybe there’s a little more.” 

  “Two.” 

  “Well…the other day.” You let out an exasperated sigh as you look up at him. “You were starin’ at me, in the kitchen. I couldn’t tell what you were thinking, but it didn’t look good.” 

  He thinks for a moment, back to his thoughts in the kitchen and you must have read him all wrong. 

  Joel steps back from you briefly as he undoes his tie, letting it drop to the floor. “The other day in the kitchen.” His hands start to work at the buttons on his dress shirt as he shucks it off his broad shoulders. “I wasn’t tryin’ to stare. I was tryin’ to keep my hands to myself.” 

  Your breathing picks up as he undoes the buckle on his slacks and lets them join the rest of his clothes. He palms himself through his boxers, his hard length growing at the slightest touch. 

  “Joel, what are you doing?” He doesn’t answer you as his hands grip your shoulders turning you toward the mirror. “We’re gonna be late for the dinner.” 

  He leans in, taking your earlobe between his teeth as you gasp. “We’re not goin’ to the dinner sweetheart.” Joel’s eyes lock with yours in the mirror as he takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Do ya see how beautiful you are?” 

  His grip stops you from shaking your head no and you figure you might as well get with the program now, since he’s being so generous. 

  “You wanna do this your way or my way?” He asks with an eyebrow raised in question. 

  “Your way?” You shakily answer as he smiles all wide and kisses your cheek. 

  His hands make quick work of the zipper that was stuck and he eases it down your back. Carefully dragging it down your body, letting the fabric pool at your feet. His hand kneads your breast and soft whimper leaves your lips as it trails down your stomach. “You weren’t plannin on wearin’ any panties to this event?” His fingers dip lower circling your clit just barely teasing you. 

  “I…I hadn’t gotten around to them yet.” Your voice is shaky as he winds his other arm around you pulling you taught to his chest. 

  “Well good thing…you won’t be needin’ em tonight.” His words send a shiver down your spine as you stand there, naked as the day you were born trying to stay afloat. “Now, I asked you if you see how beautiful you are?” 

  “Yes.” You moan out as he slips two fingers inside, chuckling to himself as he works you open. 

  You cry out at the loss as he pulls them from you, holding them out in front of your face. It’s lewd the way he licks his fingers and his grip on you tightens as your legs threaten to give out at the sight. 

  “You want me to show ya’ what I was thinkin’ about in the kitchen?” Rhetorical question of course but you're feverishly nodding your head all the same. 

  He places a soft kiss to your neck as he guides you to the bed. Neither of you trusting your feet to carry you there. “Lay down for me baby girl. Face me.” You lay down on your stomach, resting your head on your arms as you watch him place the mirror near the edge of the bed. 

  His fingers tug down his boxers and it surprises you every time, the sheer weight of him. His cock twitches at the sight as if it knows you’re looking, admiring as you stop yourself from reaching at the angry red tip to swipe your finger through the bead of precum leaking out. 

  The bed dips behind you as he straddles your thighs. You can see him in the mirror watching you as you wiggle your ass, that fight part of your brain no longer concerned with the way you look. Not with the way he’s looking at you. Like he wants to eat you alive. 

  His fingers grip your flesh as he tilts your hips up, he’s rock hard as he slides the tip through your aching folds. You clench around nothing as you try to draw him in. 

  “Eyes on the prize baby.” You tear your eyes from him as you catch yours in the mirror. He wants you to watch, but not him. 

  You’re the prize. 

  He sinks down in one fluid motion and it takes every fiber of your being to keep your eyes open. You both moan in unison as he starts a slow agonizing pace. 

  Joel watches you as long as he can but he can’t tear his eyes away from the ripple of your skin as he pounds your flesh. Hitting something deep and devastating inside you as you clutch the sheets. Soft chants of his name punched out in his thrusts as he tries to hold off his release. It feels too good and just like his daydream. Having you bent over all fucked out, unable to form a coherent through. The only thought he wants running through that head is how perfect you are. 

  “Oh fuck…I’m the luckiest man alive, ya know that.” He grits out as he meets your eyes again. 

  His strong hands haul you up against his chest as he wraps his arms around your shoulders. All you can manage is a head nod as you keen at this new angle. 

  You can feel the beads of sweat from his hair drip down onto you as you cling to his arms, he growls in your ear as your climax peaks over you, taking you by surprise as you cry out his name. 

  “This pussy was made for me darlin’.” 

  He can feel you suck him in and his balls draw up tight. Your front bathed in a sheen of sweat down your breasts and across your stomach as you ride out the aftershocks. His hips slow to a stutter as he holds your prone and pliant body, pulsing inside you as you let out a soft exhale. 

  You’re completely and utterly wrecked and he thinks you’re like one of those renaissance paintings with the naked ladies. Better than that because you’re real and you’re all his. 

  It takes you a moment to gather yourself as you lay there, Joel’s hand draped over your body at the edge of the bed. You can finally look in the mirror and see the war that was waging was all on your head. 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated