#I need her to finally break and tell him how fucked up she is

[cacoetheswriting]

i am weak for shy and nervous eddie munson who fumbles when around his crush. imagine him pining over this girl who he’s never even talked to, (maybe they have different social circles) and he just sees her around with her friends and he is smitten and then one day they accidentally bump into each other and she’s like “you’re eddie right?” and you know he’d be so flustered.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader word count: 2.2k

content warnings: lovesick eddie, pining, a little self-deprecation and self-doubt, mostly cheese and fluff, adult language - wildly unedited, oops.

“I hate this fucking school.”

The group exchange knowing glances as Eddie sits at the table with a grumble. His lunch tray lands with a low crash, nearly colliding with Gareth’s juicebox and therefore spilling its contents all over. A huff and quick reflexes on Jeff’s part save the group from catastrophe, more importantly, save the homework the boy had yet to finish ahead of next period. 

Eddie however, doesn’t notice the mess he has almost created. Frankly, he’s not paying attention. Even when Gareth tells him to, “Watch it, dude.”. The metal-head flicks his hand to say he’s sorry for whatever it is that his friends are chastising him for, but his eyes are fixed ahead, on the sole reason he’s in such a grumpy mood.

You.

Or rather Steve the dick Harrington, who’s got his arm draped shamelessly around your shoulders, as if he wasn’t just publicly humiliating Nancy Wheeler — since up until mere twenty-four hours ago, Hawkins High thought the blue-eyed girl was the King’s girlfriend, not you.

Eddie’s miserable. When did this happen? How did this even happen?

Last night, Steve and Nancy were all over each other. Eddie knows this to be fact since he saw them together at that party he wasn’t invited to as a guest, but to work because the popular kids always need a fix and he needs to make a living if he’s ever going to leave this shithole town. Anyway, that’s when Eddie saw the “it” couple and yet, now Nancy is nowhere to be seen and you’re snuggling into Harrington.

“I hate this fucking school,” Eddie repeats, sticking his fork into today’s cafeteria lunch. “Everyone is so two-faced and fake. No one has any integrity.”

The guys don’t need to follow his line of sight because they know very well who and what the metal-head is talking about.

“Maybe if you just talked to her, then you wouldn’t be so miserable today.” Jeff notes without looking up from his homework. “Plus, I overheard Charmaine tell Julie that Harrington is continuing to hold a candle for Nancy. This thing over there, that you’re obsessing over, is just friends being friends.”

“Doesn’t look like just friends to me,” Eddie grumbles, then looks at Jeff. “And I tried talking to her. It’s just, every time I do, my mind goes blank.”

Gareth rolls his eyes. “Dude, she’s not some superbeing. She’s a girl from our school. You’ve got no problem talking to other girls?”

Eddie doesn’t say anything because how does he go about explaining to his friends that to him, you’re more than a girl from school. It’s embarrassing enough how he’s never talked to you and yet, you occupy his entire mind and soul. The guys think it’s just another crush. Eddie knows it’s not. He can’t tell them though because they’ll laugh him out of it. Eddie the freak Munson is very much pining after a girl who doesn’t know he exists. Pathetic.

So, as any respectable guy in his situation would, Eddie continues to wallow in his own self-pity. 

He stares at you throughout the remainder of the lunch break, narrowly avoiding your gaze here and there by simply looking away. His downcast humour continues throughout the rest of the day. Since he doesn’t often engage in class anyway, the teachers pay him no mind. Although, their reasons are different: a quiet Eddie Munson is better than one who causes various disturbances. After the final bell ring, he hurries out of the building and blares music the entire drive home, to fizz out his thoughts.

Called into work. Here’s some cash. Go to the diner. 

Wayne

Eddie sighs. The one thing he was hoping for were his uncle's words of wisdom, although it seems that will also have to wait. Eddie slides the note into the pocket of his denim jeans and he is out the door again.

The diner is about thirty minutes away from the trailer, by foot. The metal-head decided to walk it anyway, hoping the fresh air would knock some sense into him because he’s got no business feeling this emotionally shattered. 

Maybe if he wasn’t such a bitch boy around you, things would be different. Unfortunately, for some reason, ever since he first laid eyes on you, Eddie’s default is shy.

Okay, maybe you and Harrington are a thing now, so what? Eddie’s got no claim on you, unspoken or otherwise. You can date whoever, even if it’s Steve the asshole. It’s also not like you and Nancy are friends. Everyone at school knows you two run in different circles, meaning no girl-code is being broken. There is also the possibility of what Jeff overheard from Charmaine and Julie being true: you and Harrington are nothing but friends. Very friendly friends. Touchy, feely. And Eddie would have noticed earlier if it were simply the case of friendship, therefore, he concludes that you are in fact dating Steve the douche Harrington and he somehow has to come to terms with it.

Eddie pushes the door open and makes a beeline for an empty booth. He orders a burger with fries and a soda from the middle-aged waitress, then whips out a notebook from his backpack while he waits. The only one he carries and it’s not for any schoolwork. The numbers scribbled hastily in the margins are easily mistaken for maths, but that’s just business. He focuses instead on the latest D&D campaign he’s working on.

For a moment, the metal-head forgets about today's events. He gets lost in the fictional world he’s creating. The made up monsters replace any harboured thoughts of you with Steve the turd, although one closely resembles Harrington's famous head of hair and he smirks, proud of himself for the immaturity. He figures if girls can write about their demons in journals, he can bring them into D&D. Bring them, then kill them.

He’s just about finished marking a big cross over the doodle of monster Steve when a figure steps in front of the light, creating a shadow over his notebook. Eddie sighs, foot tapping underneath the table in frustration. He’s about to make a rude remark, but when he looks up to meet the eyes of the perpetrator, he’s met with your wide gaze and naturally, he freezes.

“I like your drawings,” you say.

“Uhm, t-thanks,” he fumbles.

“You’re Eddie, right?”

All he can do is nod in response and you smile. Small and charming. Enough to make the brunette’s head spin and pinch his leg because he can’t believe this is happening. Surely, this must be a dream of some sort. He came home and passed out on the sofa. The only logical explanation for why you would be talking to him, complementing his stupid little doodles. The only logical explanation for why you know his fucking name.

“We’ve never officially met,” you begin and reach out your hand. 

Eddie glances at it and without really thinking, he utters, “I know who you are.”

It comes out a little more mean than he intends it to, he knows because you retreat your hand as if you’ve been burned. Eddie’s heart stings. Now he knows it’s real since only he’d be stupid enough to ruin a good thing before it even began. He’s an asshole.

“Sorry,” he mumbles quickly, then straightens in his seat. “Do you wanna sit? I-I have fries.”

He chews on the inside of his cheek for how incredibly pathetic that sounded; fries. You however, don’t notice and you’re also kind enough not to point out how he’s stumbling about his words like a little schoolkid.

“I love french fries.”

And with that, you’re sliding into the booth, across from him.

Eddie watches in disbelief as you help yourself to his food, not just the potato side, as if the two of you have been friends a lifetime. Then, probably to confuse him even more, you start telling him about how your parents locked you out and how it’s nice to see a familiar face, while he’s sitting there in silence, taking it all in, wondering whether perhaps this was some cruel joke Harrington and his band of losers were playing on him.

He wants to ask. Save himself the embarrassment if this does end up being a prank and tomorrow’s gossip: Eddie the freak Munson thought he had a chance. You keep talking, only taking small pauses to take bites out of his food or a sip of his soda, and to Eddie’s surprise nothing happens. No one jumps out screaming, laughing, pointing at him. This is really happening and he is truly baffled.

“Can we get another burger meal and the same soda?” You order from the waitress when she comes around to check the tables and afterwards, turn to look at Eddie, smile ever present. “Kinda ate most of yours.”

“It’s fine,” he manages to say.

For the first time since you sat down, it’s quiet. Now you’re the one staring at him, head tilted slightly to the one side. The smile on your face transforms into something more thoughtful, as if you were trying to read his mind — which is exactly the same thing Eddie was trying to do to you.

“So,” you begin again, “What were you scribbling intently before I crashed the party?”

“Just some stuff for an afterschool thing,” Eddie answers with a shrug, voice a little shaky.

“Mysterious.”

The sparkle in your eyes screams that you want to know more, but the metal-head is hesitant to share. Even though this wasn’t part of some scheme by Hawkins’ finest, it didn’t mean there wasn’t a different underlying reason as to why you were taking interest in him and he didn’t like when people made a fool of him.

Eddie clears his throat.

“Did your parents really lock you out?” He questions.

A brow goes up, it seems you are surprised at his push back. 

“Yes,” you say matter-of-factly, then add, “They do this sort of thing from time to time. They’re big hippies, so it’s not like neglect or anything. It’s weed. They don’t want me home when they’re high because they think it would make me undermine their authority.”

Eddie smirks and you tell him it’s not funny, but he can’t help the chuckle leave his throat. When you throw a fry at him across the table, smiling wide, he’s no longer feeling the nervous bubble. In fact, he’s suddenly quite relaxed.

“I’m sorry that I’m a good daughter. Next time I’ll be sure to pick a less judgemental table” you say dramatically, although the grin doesn’t leave your features.

The brunette lifts his hands in front of his chest in a defence motion.

“No judgement here. My social status requires me to second guess reasons people have for talking to me. I had to make sure your boyfriend wasn’t going to jump me the second we stepped outside.”

“Boyfriend?” You seem genuinely taken aback by the assumption.

“Harrington,” he clarifies, although he’s not sure why he should be.

Until you laugh. It’s soft and tender, but it’s a laugh nonetheless.

“Steve’s not my boyfriend,” you state in between giggles, “He’s madly in love with Wheeler. God, does the whole school think we’re dating? He’s gonna hate that. Poor Nancy.”

Eddie blinks. Seems Julie’s information was correct, but it still doesn’t explain the closeness and the banter the entire cafeteria was witness to. He feels weird for letting this bother him so much and even though he usually has difficulties keeping his big mouth shut, he doesn’t want you thinking he’s some sort of pervert, so he doesn't say anything, simply bops his head.

Although, his silence doesn’t seem to deter you.

“I noticed you staring,” you admit, half a decibel lower. 

A fresh burger and fries land on the table, followed by a large Coca-Cola. The waitress mutters something along the lines of enjoy, then walks away to tend to another table.

Eddie doesn’t know what to do next: admit or deny. He’d rather go back to fifteen minutes ago when you were eating his food and he wasn’t talking. Therefore, he slides the burger closer to himself and in one swift motion, lifts it to his lips, taking a bite too big for his mouth. He doesn’t care what he looks like at the moment, he just needs to keep himself quiet before saying something else he’s going to regret.

Across the table, you’re all smiley again.

“Do you think, when you’re done eating, you could walk me home?” You ask, offering him a napkin. 

As he nods, he reaches for the paper cloth and his fingers brush yours delicately. There’s a zap of electricity, but if you feel it, you don’t react. Eddie’s continuing with the shyness, so he looks down at the burger in his hand and pretends nothing happened to him either.

It’s not until you lean over the table, index finger stretched and inching forward to touch his face, wiping leftover ketchup from the corner of his mouth, that the metal-head thinks maybe, just maybe, you feel some type of way about him too because that’s not what a person does for someone they only officially met minutes before.

Afterwards, you say, “I’ll tell you all about how I’ve been watching you too.”, and Eddie nearly chokes on his food.

thank you for reading & please support your writers by reblogging <3

[urfavfakeblonde]

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what happens when the reader in forced to drink a blue liquid that makes her so sexually frustrated...that she might need a little help from the man she is head over heels for?

warnings: violence, blood, torture, oral (fem!rec), unprotected sex, hickies??? idk how to write warnings haha

"No!" I cry at the Hydra guard who is attempting to pour a light blue liquid down my throat. His eyes darken, squinting closed in annoyance. Tears continue to flow down my face following the beating I just took for breaking in with Bucky, whose currently constrained to a metal chair. The rope around my wrists cut into my skin, blood dribbling down onto the floor. My feet fight the same battle, ropes constraining them to the legs of a wooden chair in the center of the room. A guard behind me comes to force my mouth open while my body strains against the confinement. My choked out groans get swallowed as the liquid starts to pour down my throat, an uneasy smile on the face of the Hydra guard with the vile. Bucky groans to the side of me, metal arm clanking violently against his restrictions.

As the liquid stops pouring, he closes my mouth and holds my nose. I groan in frustration at the lack of oxygen, taking a deep breath as he finally lets go. Regaining my breath, I glace up and spit at him. "Fuck you! I swear to god, when I get out of these-" my sentence cut short at the use of a gag, muffled cries all to be heard from beneath the cloth. My tears soak the sides of it, body trembling at the burning in my throat. As he starts to say something, the door to the room bursts open, a gasp coming from the guard behind me. Hydra guns quickly point at the door, but soon out of use as Redwing shoots the guards. I sigh in relief and glance at Bucky who by now was able to get out of the flimsy restraints. He takes out his gag with a groan, walking over to me to take mine out too. "You okay?" He asks softly, examining my bruising cheek. I stare up at him, and regrettably getting wetter. I quickly look down, eyes fluttering shut.

Sam enters, rushing over while Redwing attaches to his suit. "What the hell happened to her? She's shaking," he states, watching as Bucky grabs a hidden knife to cut the rope. "Gave her some kind of liquid, didn't get the chance to tell us what it was," he says with a glare. He helps me up as Sam throws his hands up in defeat. "So it's my fault now?" He says, starting up the usual fight. Suddenly John Walker and his lousy teammate, "Battlestar," step into the doorway, attempting to look heroic. "Look who finally showed up," Bucky said sarcastically, glancing at Sam who had the same look. John huffs and steps aside to let Bucky help carry me out. Sam joins him and grabs my other arm, exchanging worried glances as I let out a weak groan. "Is she, uh...okay?" John asks, trailing behind. The two boys roll their eyes, ignoring him as the hallway takes a turn. Bucky finally answers as the exit door pushes open, my body trembling and weak. "Does she look okay, John?" He asks with just a little extra annoyance, trying to get the message across.

Finally, we made it to the aircraft, the men watching me closely as my body trembled on the floor. Suddenly, my eyes snapped open, my body lifting up quickly. The reaction caused Bucky and Sam to stand up too, lifting their arms in front of them to try and calm me down. "Woah, woah, woah, Y/n! You're okay, it's okay," Sam said, glancing into my nervous eyes. My bottom lip trembled, eyes searching frantically for an escape. My breathing came in rapid paces, hand clutching my heart forcibly. "No, no, no, no," I mumbled, tears slipping down my cheeks at an equally rapid rate. I could feel myself getting needy, and it was too much to handle. Bucky tried moving closer, but my body flinched backwards into John. I gasped and backed away into the corner, mumbling incoherent sentences as my body crouched down onto the floor. "What the hell did they give her?" John asks, searching Bucky's eyes for an answer. Unsurprisingly, he was only met with a piercing stare.

While the boys exchanged confused looks, my vision and mind were tumbling, thoughts, colors, sounds--it was all amplified. "Shut up! Shut up, shut up please," I cried, sobbing into my hands. It was like all my dirty thoughts were playing in my head at once, undeniably making me flustered and overwhelmed. The man that starred that role stood concerned before me, metal arm resting on my shoulder. I look up at him with teary eyes, embarrassment flushing my face. "What's wrong, what do you feel?" He asks softly so as to not scare me. I didn't know how to answer. I couldn't answer. Not only because it would mean that I would have to reveal all the dirty thoughts I'd ever thought about him, but the whole group of men would hear too. I would never live that down. "Everything," I whisper as a response. "I feel everything." Bucky nods, although I'm sure he thinks I've gone crazy. The airplane prepares to land, so he helps me get into a seat. Suddenly, I drift off into a deep sleep, my body turning into a ragdoll as Bucky clips me in.

When I wake up, I'm in bedroom. I look around frantically, searching for something to look familiar, but nothing does. Well, until Bucky walks in. He's slightly taken aback at my shaking body and desperate eyes. "Where am I?" I whisper, getting out of bed. He walks over slowly and sets his phone down on the nightstand. "S.H.E.I.L.D.," he says softly. "The medics already checked you out." I nod, and walk to the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on my face, I stare into my reflection. "What's wrong with me?" I whisper, tears starting to form. I wanted to look back at him, but if I did my panties would continue to grow increasingly wet, so I stared down at the sink. He sighs, sitting down on the edge of my bed. "They don't know, sweetheart." The comment, the pet name rather, was so innocent but god if that didn't help my desperate situation. I bite my lip, closing my eyes. No, you can't tell him what you need, that's fucking insane. What if he says no? God, it'd be worse to never have him around again. "Doll?" He asks from the other room. I bite my lip even harder, enough to draw blood. I step back at the burst of pain, touching my lip with my fingers. "Fuck," I mutter, turning the water back on to wash the blood off.

Suddenly, a hand comes up to wipe the blood off my lips with a towel, blue eyes piercing into mine. "Don't look at me like that," I practically whimper out, body becoming weak in his gentle touch. "Like what?" He asks, clearly confused, yet amused at the same time. Of course he doesn't know what he's doing to me. His hand cupping my cheek is enough for my body to betray me and become weak in his touch. When my body begins to shake in his hold, he moves his vibranium arm down to hold my waist to better wipe the blood off my lips. I had to close my eyes to stop them from rolling backwards, the intimacy of the situation all too much to bear. "Open your eyes," he says with enough authority that they fluttered back open. I whine when his grip tightens on my waist, body begging to lean up and kiss him. "James," I whisper out, hand trembling to grab his wrist. He stops his movement at the name, finally taking the opportunity to meet my eyes. His tongue pokes out to wet his bottom lip, a small smirk hanging on to the corner of his mouth. "Hmm?" he hums so lowly, I can almost feel it against my chest. I let out a whine, resting my forehead against his chest. He moves to gently rub my back, kissing the top of my head. My panties are absolutely soaked by now, and the fact that it hasn't yet seeped through my tactical gear is unbelievable.

"What's wrong, what do you need sweetheart?" He asks again with the nickname. I blink and look up at him, hands slowly moving up to cup his cheeks. I stare into his eyes for what feels like minutes, the silence torturous yet comforting. "I need you," I whimper, just barely above a whisper. His eyebrows raise at the confession, his hands moving to rest on my waist. This action alone causing my core to tense, his lips being so close to mine was absolute torture. "Yeah?" He asks with a smile, grip tightening on my hips. I nod quickly, a tear escaping down my cheek. "To help me, that's a-all." I hiccup, tears falling at a much more rapid pace. "Please, please James, it hurts," I sob, trembling in his strong hold. He pauses for a moment, considering the consequences. But fuck, if you didn't look so innocent and needy right now, he might have thought about it longer. Although, it would be cruel to leave you here in a state such as this, so it was only right for him to help...? Fuck it.

In a swift move, he picks me up in such a way that my legs went to tangle around his torso. He walks us over to the bed, setting me down gently as he kisses the side of my jaw. I let out a desperate moan, body arching up into his. My hands wrap around his neck loosely, lips finally meeting each other after teasing long enough. The kiss was rough, sloppy, fast. A poor attempt to relive the burning sensation in my core really. Soon enough, my shirt is lifted up over my head, tossed onto the wooden floor. Bucky licks his lips as he watches me desperately try to take off my bra before, moving my hands to do it himself. "Hey," he says authorially. My bottom lip trembles as a tear escapes down my cheek. "Let me, take care of you," he says softly, kissing my temple. I nod slowly, moaning softly as he litters my collarbone in kisses. I feel him tugging off my shoes off, discarding them on the floor. Impatiently, my hands move down to try and undo my pants, but his hands stop mine once again as he gives me that look. "Sorry," I whine, closing my eyes. He chuckles, slipping the pants off and onto the pile growing on the floor. "Just breathe, dollface," he says, hands finding their way to my hips. After a moment of silence, he gently moves my body down to hook my legs over his broad shoulders. My teeth catch my bottom lip as his hand reaches down to playfully rub over my panties. I let out a whine at the sensitivity of my clit, core begging for a release. "James, please," I whisper, hands tangling in his short hair.

He glances up at my desperate face, a smirk finding itself on his lips. He kisses my clit through my soaked panties, a desperate whin falling from my lips in response. Quickly slipping them down and off my legs, his mouth attaches to my clit in the blink of a second. "mmmh, fuck!" I cry, letting my head rest against the soft comforter. His tongue swirls around my clit before licking down to my core. And holy fucking shit, if this isn't the best feeling in the whole world, what even is? It didn't take long for my body to react to his skillful mouth--stomach knotting embarrassingly quickly. "God, James that feels so good," I moan, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. I feel the knot start to untie--a loud cry leaving my lips with the whine of his name. He tongue fucks me through it, a smile forming on his beautiful lips as my body shakes in his hold. As he kisses up my burning body, my hands move to wrap around his neck, lips connecting with his as he unclasps his belt. Kissing my jaw, I taste the slight tinge of me from his delicious kiss. It wasn't long until I felt his hard-on against my heat, a needy gasp falling from my plump lips.

"Please," I beg, looking into his steal-blue eyes. He replies with a hum, slipping inside easily. I had dreamt of this moment once or twice. (not every night...right?) As he bottoms out, my back arches up into his chest, whiney pleas mixing with the sound of the wet sounds we were making. He returns to kissing and sucking hickeys on my neck and collarbone, metal hand traveling up to wrap softly around my neck. It was then that my eyes rolled to the back of my head, the added pressure surely sending me to heaven. Continuing to thrust deep into me, hitting spots that my fingers couldn't even reach. "Fuck!" I cry, the knot in my stomach reappearing. He whispers praises in my ears--although my hearing started to turn into ringing from the intense pleasure. Soon, my body starts shaking again as the knot comes undone yet again. I feel him start to pull out--but I use the last of my energy to pull him closer, whispering "in me, please," in his ear. He lets out a deep groan, mumbling something about how I was "gonna ruin" him.

"Only if you let me do this again, without the serum," he whispers, causing my eyes to flutter shut.

"Who says the serum didn't wear off the first round?"

[mytherapyisreading14]

Hii! Could make a smutt fic with post prison Spencer fic where the reader and Spencer are like best friends/roommates and she has a massive crush on him and he’s in her room looking for something and finds her diary with all of the dreams she’s had about him and they are like extremely kinky like spitting in her mouth and using his handcuffs on her and while he’s reading the diary she walks in on him and she gets like really embarrassed and he’s being the biggest tease to her and then they fuck. Also could you include the spit kink in the smutt part? If you’re not comfortable with that then it’s fine :). Ps I sent this request to another writer like a week ago but they said that they couldn’t do it because they were only doing blurbs.

A Dream Come True

Summary: When Spencer comes over for one of your weekly movie nights, he accidentally finds your diary and discovers your secret.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Category: Smut, some Fluff (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: kissing, dirty talk, use of pet names (baby etc.), praise kink, spit kink, choking, fingering, use of handcuffs, oral sex (f), unprotected sex (stay safe y’all), multiple orgasms, dom!spencer (If I missed any warnings, please tell me)

Word Count: 3,3k

Author’s Note: I got my wisdom teeth out yesterday and finished writing this to distract me from the pain (didn’t work though) 😩 Anyway, I hope you like it! :)

You're standing in the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies hits your nose. You decided to bake some cookies before Spencer is coming over for your weekly movie night. Baking also distracts you from the thoughts that have been consuming you more and more in the last few weeks.

You've always liked Spencer, but in the last few weeks, after he got out of prison, you've been spending even more time together. He needed a distraction and when he finally was ready for it, he also talked to you about what had happened to him.

It broke your heart when he told you what he had to go through. You're glad the team managed to get him out of there. You don't even want to think about how bad it would have been if he had to stay any longer.

You take a look at the clock, Spencer will be here soon. You can't wait, the nervousness tingles in your stomach like usual when you think about him. With a light sigh you put away the last ingredients, while your eyes keep wandering to the calendar on the wall.

You can't say exactly when they started. These... dreams. At first they were just fleeting thoughts that distracted you from the stressful everyday life, but now they are much more than that.

They are firmly imprinted in your mind, as if they are another reality taking up more and more space in your life. You shake your head, trying to compose yourself, but it doesn't work. The desire for these dreams to finally become reality gets stronger everyday, especially when you spend time with him.

You go to your room and open the diary that is still lying on your bed after your last entry this morning. A shiver runs down your spine as you read the words and the memories of your last dream come flooding back.

But the familiar ringing of the door bell snaps you out of your thoughts. Spencer is here. You quickly close the diary and shove it back under your small cupboard in your room where no one can find it.

You open the door and your heart immediately beats faster when you see him. With his messy curls falling over his face and that cute smile he never fails to blow you away. Your breath hitches for a moment as he looks at you.

“Hey, how are you?” he asks as he takes a step towards you and holds out a small bag of gummy bears. “I brought you your favorite gummy bears. They were almost sold out, but I still managed to get a package.” You can’t help but fall into his arms.

“Thank you,” you say, holding him for a moment longer than necessary. It feels so good to feel him close, to breathe in that familiar scent of him. Your heart is pounding loudly in your chest. But then he breaks the moment.

“Did you bake something? I think I can smell cookies,” Spencer says and your eyes widen in shock. "Oh no! My cookies!” you shout, practically jumping out of his arms and storming into the kitchen.

You turn off the oven, take the cookies out and carefully place them on the tray to let them cool off. Spencer follows you, still grinning as he watches you. “Just in time,” you say as you run your hand through your hair. “A moment longer and they would have burned.”

“It's good that I'm not only a genius, but also have a good nose,” he jokes. “Or you’re just hungry,” you answer with a grin as you put the cookies aside. “That too. And you know they are my favorite cookies. I can't just let them burn,” he says and you laugh.

“But they have to cool down before you can eat them. If you want we can already start to watch a movie now,” you say and go over to the living room with him, grabbing a few pillows and blankets to make it even more comfortable on the couch.

"So," Spencer says as he sits down next to you and adjusts the pillows, "what movie are we watching first?" You think about it for a while, deciding whether you want to watch something romantic, funny or classic. Finally, your choice falls on Back to the Future. A movie that you both love.

When you want to turn on the television, you suddenly notice that the remote control is no longer working. “Oh no, the batteries are dead,” you mumble and take them out. “Where do you keep the new ones?” Spencer asks, leaning back and watching you. “I can go and get them while you get us something to drink.”

You nod. “They are in the bottom drawer in the small cupboard across my bed,” you tell him. “All right,” Spencer says, getting up and going to your room to get them. While he's in your bedroom, you take a moment to gather your thoughts. If only you knew what he really thinks about you...

Spencer goes into your room to get the batteries. But when he tries to open the bottom drawer like you told him, it gets stuck, which surprises him. He leans down to look what’s causing it, maybe he can fix it for you. But then he notices that there is a book lying under the cupboard.

Curious, he pulls it out and examines it for a moment. He flips through the pages, slowly, as if he can't help himself. His eyes widen when he realizes it's full of entries - entries about the two of you together specifically. It’s your diary. Full of your thoughts about him.

And not just your thoughts. You also wrote down the dreams you had about him, the wishes and desires you couldn't keep to yourself anymore. Your feelings that you never expressed. Spencer continues reading, and with each word it seems as if the world stops.

You, on the other hand, are now wondering where he is. Why doesn't he come back? You go to your room and open the door. “Spence, did you find them or should I help -” You pause, your eyes immediately falling on the book in his hand and your heart beats faster. You blush as you realize what he just discovered.

He looks at you and a grin spreads across his face. “I found a really interesting book under your cupboard. Why did you hide it from me? I would’ve love to read it sooner,” he says as he takes a step towards you. You feel like the ground is threatening to fall away from under your feet. Your pulse is pounding in your ears and you try to stay calm. “Spence…” you whisper, but you can’t say anything more. You're way too nervous.

He looks at you for another second, as if he's getting lost in your reaction, before holding the diary out to you, grinning ever wider. “You probably not only dream about me every night, but also write everything down so you can think about it again and again, right?”

You feel the blood rush to your head and you almost feel dizzy with embarrassment. "I... uh..." you stammer, "It's not what you think..." Spencer laughs. “No?” he asks as he flips the diary over to the page on which you wrote down your last dream about him.

“Well, I think it's kind of cute that you're so lost in your dreams. But you know what?” You look at him uncertainly as he slowly takes a step closer, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Now that I know about them, I can make them all come true,” he says quietly. For a moment his eyes are so intense you feel like you could sink into them.

Your mind is racing and you can't believe what he just said. Then he suddenly pushes you against the wall and kisses you. The kiss is not gentle, it’s full of desire and hunger. His tongue pushes between your lips, tasting you. You can feel the heat rushing through your body, pressing your thighs together.

He pulls away, leaving you breathless and craving more. “I’m going to leave you now. When I come back, I want to see you laying on the bed naked, with your legs spread apart. You’re not allowed to touch yourself. Do you understand?” he asks, his voice firm and eyes full of lust.

You nod and a shiver runs down your spine. “Yes, I… I understand,” you breathe out. He smirks before he grabs your diary and turns around to leave the room. You heart is pounding in your chest and you're shivering in excitement. You do as your told and take off your clothes to lay down on the bed, waiting for him to come back.

Spencer however sits down on the couch to read through all of your diary entries. He feels his pants getting uncomfortably tighter the more he reads and one entry particularly draws his attention. You had this dream 2 days ago.

He used his handcuffs to tie you to the bed, kissed down your body before going over to tease you by squeezing your breasts and biting down on your nipples. You begged him to touch you and when he decided that he teased you enough, he went over to eating you out and fucking you with his fingers. And then, after you came, he leaned forward and spit into your mouth.

Spencer never expected you to dream of things like this, but he is more than happy to make them come true. His cock is getting harder and he decides you waited long enough. Luckily, yesterday after you got off work, you got some take out and drove to your place to eat dinner together. He left his vest and jacket, in which he also packed his handcuffs, hanging in your apartment because he knew he would be back today anyway.

He stands up and goes over to get his handcuffs. He straps them to the back of his pants so you don’t see them right away. Then he goes into your room and opens the door. You lay on the bed, with your legs spread apart, just like he told you. He smirks and comes closer, his eyes wander over your body.

You feel extremely exposed and have to resist the urge to put your arms in front of your body to cover yourself. But then you see Spencer's tongue licking his bottom lip and his eyes darken. “You look so beautiful, baby. I can’t wait to finally touch you,” he says and gets onto the bed. He leans down to kiss you again and you run your fingers through his hair.

He kisses your neck before leaning closer to your ear again. “Do you trust me, baby?” he asks and you nod. He shakes his head. “I need words,” he says and you answer him immediately. “Yes, Spencer. I trust you.” He looks pleased. “Good. Can you close your eyes for me?”

You close your eyes and feel him shift, excited to find out what he planned to do to you. You can feel his hands reaching for yours, then you hear the clatter of metal and feel something cold close around your wrist. You know exactly what comes next and a shiver runs down your spine.

He lifts your hands over your head and ties you to the headboard. You can’t help but smile and he notices. “I see, you’re already enjoying this. You can open your eyes now. I want you to look at me when I touch you,” he says. You open your eyes and look up to Spencer above you.

“I have to admit, your dream from two nights ago surprised me. I really liked reading it. I decided to make this one come true first,” he says before he starts to slowly kiss down your neck. He goes further down around your breasts and then your stomach before he spreads your legs apart and leaves kisses between your inner thighs. When he bits down on the soft skin to leave a hickey there you can’t help but moan.

“Please, I - I need you,” you say and try to reach down to press him against you. But you forget that you’re held back by the handcuffs. Spencer chuckles when he sees you like this, helpless and desperate for more. “Be a good girl and I’ll give you what you want,” he says and his hands wander upwards to your breasts again.

He starts to squeeze the right one and leans down to lick over your left nipple before taking it in his mouth. He bites down gently first and then he starts to suck. All the man you had before never really paid that much attention to your breasts and your surprised how good it feels with him.

When he pulls away and blows cold air on your nipple you shiver again. He turns his attention to the other one and you can’t help but moan. “More…please. I need you to fuck me,” you beg him but he just ignores you and continues his actions.

You press your legs together to relief the ache between your legs but he notices and pushes them apart again with his knee. He grabs your chin with his hand and holds you firm, looking into your eyes. “You have to be patient, baby. I want to take my time with you,” he says.

You nod but a silent cry escapes your lips. The way he’s touching your body leaves you craving him even more and after all these weeks of dreaming about this, you don't want to wait any longer. But you know it won't do any good to keep begging. Instead you focus entirely on his lips, his hands and how he touches your body.

When Spencer finally decides that he teased you enough he slowly leans down, hands running up your thighs before spreading your legs even further to get in between them. You look down and in that moment you wish you’d had an eidetic memory too because you never want to forget the way he looks at you now.

“I always wanted to know what you taste like, baby,” he says and you can feel his warm breath against your pussy. Then he finally leans in and starts to circle your clit with the tip of his tongue. The touch is light, teasing again and all you want is to pull him closer and run your fingers through his soft, brown curls. His eyes never leave yours when he starts to devour you.

You can’t help but grind against him and this time, he gives you what you want. One hand moves up to your hip, the other one under your ass and he pulls you closer to him while his tongue continues to move in and out of you. He applies more pressure and adds two fingers, making you moan his name over and over again.

“I’m close,” you manage to breath out and Spencer flicks his tongue over your clit. “Come for me baby, come on my mouth,” he says and you let go. Your back arches off the bed when your orgasm hits you but that doesn’t stop Spencer. He just continues what he’s doing, taking everything in.

Your orgasm slowly ebbs away and Spencer comes up from between your legs, his eyes full of lust. He gently runs a finger over your lip and smirks. “Open up for me, baby,” he says and then you realize what he’s about to do. You shiver in excitement and open your mouth.

Then he leans forward and spits into your mouth. “Swallow.” You obey and keep eye contact with him the whole time. “Good girl,” he praises you and gently kisses you, holding you close to him. He gives you a minute to recover, which you gladly take before he starts to undress himself.

Your eyes widen, he’s definitely bigger than you expected. He goes back in between your legs and slowly runs his tip through your folds. “Just… just fuck me already. Please,” you beg him. “You’re so needy, baby. You want to take it all at once? Fine, then have it.” He thrusts inside of you.

You feel the pleasure rushing through your body, expanding every time he hits your g-spot while he fucks you in a restless pace. “You look so pretty like this. Tied to the bed and fucked out for me. You’re all mine now. Gonna make all your dreams come true,” he says and grabs your hips to hold you firm.

He continues to fuck you until you’re crying out his name. He comes closer and wraps a hand around your throat, before kissing your neck again, leaving more hickeys. When he starts to circle your clit again you feel like you’re going to explode from the intense pleasure.

“Spence, need to… please, please…” you whine, unable to form a complete sentence. He chuckles, clearly amused to see you so desperate for him. “Baby, I don’t understand you. You have to tell me what you want,” he teases, squeezing your throat more and slowing down for a moment.

“I - I want -“ you begin but get cut off again by a moan when he thrusts harder into you again. “Look at that, you’re a complete mess. You clearly don’t know what you want, do you? I’m afraid I have to stop then” he teases. “No!” you answer immediately, wrapping your legs around him to keep him close.

“Tell me what you want then, otherwise I can’t help you. Come on, I know you can do it,” he says. “I want to… I want to come. Please,” you finally manage to say before your eyes roll back again. “That’s it, such a good girl,” he says and releases the hand around your throat to speed up his thrusts again.

Your legs begin to shake uncontrollably when your orgasms hits you and Spencer fucks you through it, finishing inside you a moment later. You can feel his cum deep inside of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent deeply and giving both of you a moment to calm down.

Then he sits up, leaning forward to untie you. You immediately cuddle up to him, holding him as close as possible. “Are you okay? Do you need anything baby? Water maybe?” he asks and gives you a tender kiss on your forehead. “No, please just hold me in your arms now,” you say and he pulls you even closer against him.

He runs his hands through your hair and you can feel his heartbeat beneath your hand. After a while you look up to him, with a smile on your face. “That was even better than in my dreams,” you mumble, still exhausted. He laughs and pushes a strand of hair out of your face. “I’m glad to hear that.”

For a moment everything is quiet, you just enjoy lying in bed together and holding each other in your arms. Then Spencer shifts closer. “You know, tonight it wasn't just your dreams that came true. I wanted this - you - for a long time now too,” he admits and your heart skips a beat.

“Well then I'm happy you found my diary today. Who knows how long it would have taken us before one of us made a move,” you say and laugh. Spencer grins. “Oh definitely way too long,” he says before he leans forward to kiss you again. “I love you,” he says and you smile against his lips. “I love you too.”

[demonic0angel]

The brainrot is eating at me, pls feed me a piece of talia and Jazz coparenting damian🫶😔

(Ofc pookie 😌)

Damian began looking at his outfit in the mirror. At this moment, Timothy poked his head into his room without knocking. Before Damian could react and stab a knife between his eyes, he already began talking.

“Hey, Damian, can you— what are you doing?” Timothy’s gaze sharpened immediately. “Where are you going?”

Damian scowled. “Out of my room, Drake!”

“Not until you tell me where you’re going,” Timothy said with a frown. “You usually never dress up. What’s going on?”

Damian huffed and smoothed out his shirt before patting his hair down. His collar was still messy, but he did nothing about it. “I’m going out to see my moms.”

“…. Your what.”

Damian put his hands in his hips. “My moms? My mother and my mom? Are you deaf as well as in need of intelligence?”

Timothy groaned. “What do you mean by two moms?? I thought you only had one mom? Talia??”

Damian rolled his eyes. “No, I have two. Mother married Mom and I’ve received news that she finally arrived back in this world, so she is taking me out and she will also meet Father. Do you want to come see?”

Timothy stared at him. Then he said, “Fuck yes.”

Damian waited eagerly for his mom to arrive. Everyone in the household had now heard of their oncoming guest and were now congregating around the entrance, eyes trained on the door. Damian ignored them, even as Richard tried to ask him questions. Father was looking at him not very subtly, but Damian did not answer.

The doorbell rang and Alfred walked up to open the door as everyone immediately hushed up. The door opened and Stephanie gave a shocked, “Holy crap.”

Jazz stood in front of the door, tilting her head and scanning the room until she spotted Damian. “Damian!” She called, immediately breaking into a radiant smile.

She was as beautiful as Damian remembered. There seemed to be more age in her eyes, but she was still as lovely as the day that she left.

Damian immediately ran to her, jumping into her arms enthusiastically. “Mom!” He responded cheerfully and she beamed, kissing him on the head. He could almost physically feel the disbelief coming from his siblings and the shock from his father.

She put him on the ground again and fixed his collar, as she said, “Look at you! You’re so tall now! I’m so sorry that I missed so much, Dami. How have you been settling well in here? Has American school been difficult? I can give you my notes and I’d love to help you study if you’d like! I also heard that your father is here….?”

She looked up and tilted her head. “Wow, there are a lot of doppelgängers here…”

Damian reached up to hold her hand. “Mom, these are my siblings and Father and Alfred. This is Richard, Cassandra, Stephanie, and Timothy. Jason is hopefully dead in a ditch.”

Everyone looked at him with eyes of horror, but only Jazz tilted her head back and burst into laughter. Damian smiled proudly as Jazz reached down to pick him up again. Her hugs were just as he remembered, safe, comforting, and very high from the ground.

“… you’re dating Talia?” Bruce suddenly asked. The look on his face was very strange, almost sulky. Damian rolled his eyes again and clicked his tongue.

Jazz tilted her head. “Yes. I’ve been dating her for quite a while. I’m pleased to meet you, but I’m afraid we’re pressed for time. Tally is waiting in the car and I have plans to spend the whole day with Dami today.” She patted his hair and kissed him on the cheek. Damian immediately hid his face to hide from the coos from Stephanie and Richard. “I hope we can make introductions later. Thank you for taking care of my Dami, see you later!”

And with that, she quickly strode away without another word or any hesitation.

As Jazz bounded away on the cobblestone road away from the Manor, she remarked, “Wow, there were so many blue eyed people in the house, huh?”

Damian burst into laughter. After a while, he finally added, “I missed you, Mom. It was different without you…. And difficult too.”

Jazz cooed. “I’m so sorry, dearest. But don’t worry, it’ll be okay. I’m here now, alright? And I won’t leave you again, promise.”

[xxstylefntsyxx]

Female Daisuke x female reader.. PLSSSSS

MY FIRST ASK FINALLY YESSS YESS HEHEHEH OFC I WILLLLLLLLLLLLLLL AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! (The scream i did running to my phone when my tablet notified me! Thank you, Anon! ) Girlie's for the girlie's! Alright, so here are the rules! Everyone got the same name cause I'm not finna rack my brain on names my poor mind will break. And also, umm, bare with me, hehehe.......

Themes: Fluffy, I'm sorry, dark themes, comfort, love before the storm, mention of death

We fell in love in Octoberzl- thats why, I love fall

You were downstairs making some coco. It was a nice fall night, and you two were restless trying to beat each other in a game of skullgirls. You came back upstairs with two simple mugs and cookies.

"Alright, baby! Are you ready to lose again? For the second time?" You asked seductively. Daisuke turned around in her chair with a pout, "Nah, uh! I didn't lose! You quiet literally cheated!"

"How do you cheat at this game, daisuke?" You asked, tilting your head slightly. She didn't know what else to say, but she stubbornly huffed a, "Fine! Have it your way! Cheater."

You came over and set down the tray, "Well we'll just have to see about that." You got over to your respected chair, putting your headphones on.

☆hour later☆

"And that's game!" You said triumphantly. Daisuke turned around with a face of pure shock, "You are so.... so! Lucky I love you." She got up to wander over to you. You were busy setting up the next game when her hands wrapped lovingly around your shoulders.

She leaned down, kissing your neck slowly, "So~ Since you won, what's for today's agenda?"

You gave her a knowing look, "Movie, Snacks and Blankets sound good, don't they?"

"You're such a dork!- What movie are we watching?"

She snuggled close to you with her hand around your upper chest. She indulged herself in a nice boob pillow while she asked endless questions about the movie you chose.

"Okay. So quite literally why didn't the dad just I don't know, believe his son. It's a world of animals! Isn't that pretty absurd already!?" She complained.

"It's littlest, dude. I'm not gonna explain it again." You said with a goofy grin. You faked a pout when her eyes met yours. But those large brown eyes that had galaxies far beyond comprehension, they got to you. Your face faltered.

Your hands fell upon her face. Swishing her little cheeks together, making her nose scrunch. You wandered why this felt familiar...

"You need to be held responsible for your crimes against me! Not tell me stuff! Hmmph!"

Oh....

Right, because you weren't at home. You were on a ship that had crashed with dangerous individuals. You two weren't hugging and laying around the house. You were holding her hand like a baby, trying to fix what was broken.

"DAI! PLEASE STAY CALM! I- I PROMISE YOU'LL BE ALRIGHT!" She looked so peaceful before. You hated when she cried. She sniffled and whined, pain set deep in her shoulder. She couldn't move much, occasionally shifting from the pain that struck her.

Stupid Jimmy, making her climb through that vent. She just wanted to help - she just wanted for Anya to be alright. Alright? No, everything was not alright!

Jimmy stood their like an idiot. Shaking with wide eyes filled with those fake crocodile tears. You were quick on your feet. Storming towards him in malice. His face didn't change when you grabbed his shirt.

You hit him once, twice, one more time before you screeched, "What did you do! What did you do to her!? Look what you've done! Look what you've DONE! YOU CAN'T FIX IT JIMMY! YOU NEVER FIX IT! YOU JEVER FIX ANYTHING! YOU WORTHLESS SACK OF HORSESHIT!"

"I can fix it!" He babbled like a baby, but you weren't having it. Your fists were raw, raining down on Jimmy with intent to kill at this point.

"You can't FIX ANYTHING! YOU'RE A FUCKING DISCRACE! YOU NEVER WANNA TAKE RESPONSIBILITY! AND NOW DAISUKE! She's-"

Shing-!

"Won't have to suffer this way no longer..." Swansea's voice broke the cries and hits from the two of you. He sat on his knees, axe in hand staring down daisukes shaking form.

"Closer your eyes, daisuke." He commanded with a rather soft voice. Shoving Jimmy aside, your hands flung to cover her body. "Swansea, no! There has to be another way! You can't-!"

"Look at her. Tell me if this is what you want? You want to be selfish and put her through pain like she's curly!? Do you think I wanna do this!? No! The answers, no! I don't want to do this Y/N! But goddammit-!" His voice elevated, but the cry of poor daisuke made his voice lower.

Your eyes shot to her, soft, scared face. Stained with a permanent expression of pain. But her eyes slowly followed up your face. Both of you shared a moment, her soft eyes tears spilling from them.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry!" You confessed profusely, you grabbed her hand, "We were supposed to get married, remember? Live off in a house where the ocean is a sea of crystals."

Her whines lowered slowly. Her shuffling came slow but still rather shakey. Your eyes couldn't stop-you hated this. Why you two? You two hadn't done anything wrong to Jimmy. It wasn't fair he could do this and get away.

You smiled softly, "You are my best friend, my lover. I promise I'll find you in our next life. And, we will do it all over again. This time, we won't be here. We'll live exactly like we asked, too." You kissed her forhead.

Her body convulsed into another traumatic tremble. Swansea grunted, holding the axe above his head. You couldn't watch. This was a nightmare, and you wanted it to end.

Her cries made you sick, but you bared it. Holding her soft manicured hand in yours. The blood made it sticky, and the feeling made yours run cold.

"Useless waste of sunshine. Just trying to do as your told." He said with a knot in his throat. His eyes averted from hers, "I'm sorry I couldn't be there to do my part. I'm sorry this had to happen to you."

Her last breath sounded like words in your ears. "Lo-ve-! Yo-!" Her hand once gripping yours with blood running through it. Slowly, slowly sitting to release that familiar grip. Your eyes went wide, and you sobbed. You were screaming into the air profanities and woah's. Bawling up on yourself, Swansea dropped his shoulders. His breath came quickly, looking st the floor on his hands.

Jimmy stood up, shaking with his hands in front of his chest fumbling. He left quickly through the exit to the west wing. Swansea didn't let him get away easily. He grabbed the axe, wincing when her face slid with it. He wanted to break down- but not before he ended the man who murdered his kid.

There was only one thing you could do. Sit down and just cry. Cry because you lost her. Cry because someone who everyone thought was trustable took away lives of the good. All because he was a sick individual. Vile, with heinous thoughts.

You started reminiscing. On those good days to soothe you. Holding yourself next to her, you laid down quietly. You closed your eyes, listening to the vibrations underneath the metal floors. You found her hand again.

Yours shook, grabbing it to interlock your fingers. Humming that song that she loved while her body lay still. You were trying to soothe yourself some more. Dreaming off a life you could've had.

BANG!

Oh, how you wished this hell was over. So you couod return to your perfect little daisuke. Sitting happily on the bed while she blavbed about some meta game, you would play with her for a chance, even if you didn't know much about it.

Her smile, her laugh. You await your turn. This ride of hell was tireding. You just wanted to go home.

"In another life."

In another life- I will be your girl

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊🥊

111 for 🥊:

---

But it looks like he’s finally run out of places to hide from that. Because he can see it in Dad’s eyes. How sorry he is. He’s going to want to talk about it. Chris doesn’t though. Not even a little. 

Chris tries not to think of the panic attack as he packs. It’s weird that he had one, right? That’s not normal. Not that anxiety or panic isn’t normal. He knows that it is. Just, why now? Christopher has been through way worse than whatever set this off this morning. How about Mom leaving? How about Mom dying? A tsunami? Dad getting shot? Lots of options! All way scarier than this. 

Maybe it’s because he’s not a kid anymore. He’s closer to an adult than a kid, right? Is this what becoming an adult is like? You’re just miserable and afraid all the time. What the hell is the point of that? 

At least… At least Dad didn’t seem angry. Not like Grandma and Abuelo. He didn’t look at Chris like he was a stranger. Something ruined. He’d just been… He’d just been Dad. 

Chris doesn’t want to deal with what happened between him and his father last spring. But he doesn’t want to deal with his grandparents’ anger and judgement either. And they don’t want to deal with him. 

He doesn’t have a lot of options. 

So he packs. 

🟦

Eddie doesn’t say a word about the panic attack to his parents. He doesn’t dare. It’s either their fault or his fault, but regardless, he knows they’ll weaponize it. All they’ve ever done is use Chris as a pawn. And now look at him? Sure, it’s Eddie’s fault for not protecting him better. Sure, Eddie fucked up. But they have not helped. And now they’re discarding him. 

“I don’t know if you’re taking this seriously,” Helena says to Eddie as he sits in the living room, waiting for Chris.

“I came, didn’t I?” Eddie responds flatly. “As quickly as I could.”

“Well, yes,” she admits. “But we know you’ve wanted him back.”

His son and reason for living? Yes. Yes, he has wanted him back. 

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Eddie assures her. “Did the school say what happened?”

She nods. “He started the fight.”

“Christopher did?” Eddie asks.

“Yes,” Ramon answers. “I know you think… Well, you think it’s not like him-”

“It’s not,” Eddie interjects.

“He’s been exhibiting anger issues, Eddie,” Helena says. “He needs help.”

“I thought you were supposed to be helping him,” Eddie accuses. “Isn’t that what this was all about? Why is he starting fights at school, then?”

“Well, we don’t know!” Helena retorts. “He won’t tell us! But the school is certain he was the aggressor. We can only do so much, Eddie.”

They are so full of shit. 

“We tried to love him and provide him with the safe environment he clearly needs, but-”

“But what?” Eddie asks. “He fell out of line? So you take that love away? I remember what that’s like.”

“Oh, please,” Helena rolls her eyes. “You aren’t our only child to think about and he’s not our only grandchild, okay?”

“What does that mean?” Eddie asks. 

“Sophia wants to visit for Spring Break,” Ramon says. “Bring the girls with her. Christopher’s behavior… It’s unacceptable.”

Oh.

Oh, Eddie gets it.

Christopher’s not the easiest thing anymore. Sophia wants to bring her daughters, and that’s a better offer. Younger. Sweeter. Easier. The way Eddie hadn’t mattered once his sisters were born. The way Adriana felt neglected after Chris was born. The way Chris had only mattered when Eddie was hurting. Never Eddie. Never his own pain. That wasn’t important.

[halfbaked00q]

okay as an admitted did-not-watch-NTTD'er who got, like, all of their info from uhh recappers, the wiki synopsis, the specific clips with Q I watched, and whatever I osmosis'ed from fics.

I finally watched the beginning of NTTD at @prismatic-bell's nudging. And I was like. Okay wait. wait wait wait. This is... well-written? And shot and directed & acted?? In a hollywood movie lmao?? Like. The way it's set up w Madeleine's backstory, and then the Bond & Madeleine stuff that does a much better job of establishing their relationship, the goooorgeous wide shots.

I admittedly was rather "I close my eyes I do not see" to a lot of canon - coming from partially a comics fandom background I'm very aware, well-versed, and well-practiced in the 'canon is your pick-and-choose buffet no need to feel like you have to 'respect' the 'sanctity' of 'canon' esp when it's Bad (like it contradicts other canon or you can just Tell this character was Not Written Well and it's like, here's what it could be that is better)' - and from opinions I saw on NTTD I was expecting to be very pick & choose about it.

But okay, wait. wait wait wait. It works. The beginning at least which I watched. Works. Like, it establishes a key character moment for Madeleine that Explains Everything about her behavior, actually - like she just like Bond is actually also very traumatized & has been locking it down/deflecting it vs processing it, and the whole like Vesper thing is (to me) very obviously her misdirecting Bond away from her own Goin Thru It. I can see how it can read as very suspicious to Bond esp with everything else but it, like, is a Narrative and Makes Sense for her character and Works. wild.

Even the Bond stuff makes a ton of sense. Like, when I hadn't watched it and was going off second & third hand information, one of the things I was hrrrm ?? about was the. How do you get from the guy who says "I miss you" at Vesper's grave, to the guy who put Madeleine on the train. The man who, even after finding out Vesper betrayed him, still wanted to save her? Would... send Madeleine away? In what, a fit of pique? Surely he's more of a "run to me and I will handle it" if it turns out not to be true or a "if it is, I'll handle it" kind of guy.

BUT YOU KNOW WHAT IT WAS. YOU KNOW WHAT IT FUCKING WAS LMAO. I WAS MISLED BY THE FUCKIN. BILLIE EILISH SONG LMAO. The lyrics of it make it SOUND like it's a like "you betrayed/cheated on me how could I have ever trusted you" break-up song kind of situation. BUT IT ABSOLUTELY FCKN WASN'T LMAO.

It's like. two traumatized individuals who trauma-bonded and honestly maybe should have spent time apart healing/learning themselves again before re-evaluating if they think a relationship could work, but like. they both were Goin Thru It and let themselves get carried away with it ig. And then right when Madeleine was like. hm I've been Not Dealing with this a Lot (tbh her being a psychologist probably made it worse cuz I think it made her more effective at Not Dealing With It and deflecting/misdirecting, but like. I don't think she was doing it intentionally, I think it was just a "combination of circumstances" thing. But this also works cuz I think before the like why did Madeleine push him towards Vesper again even though he said she was in his past. And it's like. She was delaying dealing with HER shit and probably unconsciously deflected his attention by poking at waht she thinks is still HIS equivalent to her baggage) where was I. Oh yeah, Madeleine is like. hm. yeah. the whole letting go of secrets thing. I. need to come clean to him...

but then all of the Spectre stuff happens.

Even the him sitting in the car thing is soooo so so. Cuz Craig absolutely put his whole pussy in the acting for this scene. he's got that like. wrong side of overstimulated so you shoot past being in the zone and instead are zoning out lowkey thing going on, mixed with the like. agent faced with a hopeless situation Observing Everything still but like vaguely morbidly amused about it, probably what's running through the brain rn is "lmao, wonder which bullet will be The One" kind of deal. And cross-cutting the shooting & wide shots with the bells was *chefs kiss* genius.

Even Madeleine not managing to tell him was well written/paced. Cuz it was very believable that she (not trained for this) was scared/shocked & couldn't get a word out. Until the "JAMES. I'd rather die than have you think I--" and then the fucking. tragedy of the bad timing. god. And then even her not just saying it later is like, it all makes sense with the way it was paced, shot, & edited. It was beaaautiful oh man. This also where I was like. damn lmao. miscommunication in a movie where it. feels like it makes sense and isn't just a stupid macguffin lol??? In a hollywood movie?? wild

but yeah this is also where it was like. hey wait. the man who, in the face of sort of a morbid (passively?) suicidal emotional blowout due to the Everything, but was able to break through it when she got through to him enough for him to look at her, and her to cry & shake her head like no, it's not true/no don't do this/please/(w.e). and go, "Okay." and take action. How does he put her on the train??

BUT. BUT FUCKING. BUT THEN. MY GOD. *Actually* watching the fucking scene I was like. Ooooh. ough ough oh god. This isn't him vindicatively cutting her out of his life "the bitch is dead" style. This is his Vesper in the elevator cage moment. He's fucking drowning in the cage but he doesn't want to take her with him. He's locking her out of the cage. god.

And the fucking. devastation on his face while he's on the platform. THAT'S HIS FUCKIN. VESPER HOLDING HIM ONE LAST TIME AND SHOVING HERSELF TO TH EBACK OF THE CAGE AAARGGGGHH BARK BARK BARK

Which, a-fucking-gain. THEN MAKES THE NO TIME TO DIE SONG. ALL THE FUCKING MORE EGREGIOUS LMAO. "was I stupid to love you was I foolish to trust was it obvious to everybody else" WHAT ARE YOU ON. THIS IS A SHAKESPEAREAN TRAGEDY THIS ISN'T FUCKIN. 'THE BITCH IS DEAD.'

God this is like when ppl are convinced QoS was Bond going on a revenge rampage when he was (1) not even rampaging (2) not on a revenge quest/storyline - that was Camille's story!!!* caveat I did not watch QoS either lol, but I did watch a video essay breaking it down which I found Very Compelling and have since incorporated it into my worldview lmao. Like, in light of me actually watching the beginning of NTTD, and then it launching into the title sequence and the song. IT ACTIVELY. REWRITES HISTORY YOU JUST WATCHED ON THE SCREEN AAAGGGHHH BITE CHOMP KILL. IT UNDERMINES THE WHOLE. ALL OF THE WORK THE FILMMAKERS DID UP TO THAT POINT IN PLOTTING OUT ACTING OUT & ESTABLISHING THE STORY TO THIS POINT.

Like. The problem of the song isn't even oh it's a limited POV thing. IT'S NOT EVEN WAHT BOND'S POV WOULD HAVE BEEN/SHOULD HAVE BEEN BY THAT POINT. Again, this is the "the bitch is dead" edit of the scene, BUT THAT'S NOT WHAT HAPPENED. THIS IS BOND LOWKEY SPIRALING AND LIKE. OVERSTIMULATED-EXTREME-EMOTIONAL-AMBUSH-IN-A-VERY-SHORT-TIME LOWKEY EMOTIONALLY SPINNING OUT. BUT THEN BREAKING THRU IT ENOUGH WHEN MADELEINE CALLED FOR HIM. TO LOCK HER OUT OF HIS SINKING CAGE. BRUH. BE SO FORREAL RN.

also lmao she clutches her torso WAY too high up, bruh that's her sternum not her belly... but ig the idea translates across still.

but yeah. god. And here I thought No Time to Die the song was just. boring & musically uninspiring. but no. it's so much worse lmao. god.

[galpalaven]

Ah yes going to bed early not to necessarily sleep but get cozy and hallucinate fanfic until I pass out

[hauntingblue]

NAMI HAS TAKEN ACTION!!! LETSGOOOOO

[bunnyyyuu]

includes: f! reader, aged up! characters, dom! maki / sub! yuuta, cunnilingus, bondage, overstim

maki using you to teach yuuta how to eat pussy !!（〃∀〃；）

well, teach might not be the right word. it's kind of like when parents throw their kids into the pool and force them to learn how to swim.

her hand has a vice grip on the roots of his jet locks, shoving his pretty face between your legs — legs that are tied by the ankles to either side of the bedframe. yuuta clearly has barely any clue what he's doing, but, to his credit, he can barely breathe.

his tongue is lapping at your sopping cunny so so so desperately, no direction or technique in sight. it's not even close to enough to make you cum, it's barely even stimulation at all. ugh!!

maki can tell you're dissatisfied — it's written all over your face and clear in your lack of moans — and it brings a scowl onto her face. "yuuta," she hisses, dragging his face against your sex, "try harder."

yuuta tries to mumble some sort of apology from his useless mouth, though it comes out as just a weak whine.

"listen to me," she scolds. and, again, it's just a whine in response.

though, he seems to actually listen. you can almost hear the cogs of his brain turning as his tongue tentatively flattens on the underside of your throbbing clit. the moan the bubbles from your parted lips is enough confirmation that he's finally doing something close to right. so, he does it again. and again. and again. until your choked moans and the lewd, wet sounds of his tongue lapping at your weeping bud fill the room.

"that's better," maki grumbles, and you can feel yuuta's lips curve into a smile at her half-hearted praise.

it's not long before your strangled, pitchy moans grow louder and yuuta's slurping the cum you're despoting onto his eager tongue. maki smiles a little as your squirm and whine through your orgasm — though your writhing is heavily reduced by your restraints. she uses her free hand to gently rub up and down your trembling thigh in a stark contrast to how hard she's gripping yuuta's hair, forcing his mouth onto your twitchy, overstimulated cunt again.

"too much, maki! tell 'im i need a — ah! — break," you gasp out when yuuta's tongue doesn't let up, flicking your throbbing clit like it's all he's ever wanted.

she almost laughs in your face at that. too much? no. he won't be done until he's mastered the art of making a pretty girl cum. "not yet," she says with a small head shake , "put your tongue in 'er, yuu," she instructs the boy.

and, he is so obident to her every command — she has him on the shortest leash, you think — sinking his hot tongue into your hole. he moans against your pussy when it excitedly clenches around the pretty pink muscle. he fucks his tongue in and out of your spasmodic entrance, a small smile on his lips as another climax seems to crash over you.

and, true to maki's word, yuuta spends hours learning between your legs until he is an expert! though, unfortunately for you, you end up a shaking, sniffling mess after far too many orgasms (o^▽^o)

[luvyeni]

🩵 … ( reaction ) make some noise ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ enhypen trying to get you to moan ヾ

boyfriend!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ wc ・ ‎k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can you do like it's bf enha and their gf's first time having sex together and reader tries to like stay quiet during it bc she thinks it's embarrassing buttt they take it as a challenge and try to get her to be very loud, like they go rough/hard? if you know what i mean...

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it 🩵

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

see heeseung is real confident in his stroke game; and he’s confident he can make you moan his name. so when he sees you hiding your face in your pillow he just smirks; pulling the pillow from your face while giving you the deepest stroke. “don’t hide those pretty noises from me.” he whispers in your ears. “tell me how deep i am inside you.” you’re fighting so hard not moan, but he isn’t gonna stop. “come on princess let me know how you feel me in your tummy.” when you finally break, letting out a loud pornographic moan, he feels so satisfied. “heeseung.”

“that’s it keep moaning for me baby.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

you feeling embarrassed is valid but he wants to hear to hear you. “come on pretty baby , moan for daddy.” he’s literally doing everything , toying with your clit; speeding up, giving you rough deep strokes. “j-jay.” a small whimper slips through your mouth. “there we go princess , let me hear you.” he groans out. “don’t be shy, make all the pretty noises you want.” you let out another moan , begging him to speed up. “okay princess i got you “

“just keep moaning for me , you sound so pretty.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake ﹚ .ᐟ

jake needs to hear you; it’s what keeps him going. tell him how good he’s making, please he’s literally begging you. “baby please talk to me.” you’d think he was a sub if he wasn’t pinning you to the bed, plowing deeply into your wet cunt. “i need to hear you, please.” and you just can’t do it; you can’t hold it in especially when he’s begging and moaning into your ear. “oh fuck jake, please keep fucking me.” that’s all he needs to speed up as fast he can go, you moans are like fuel to him. “fuck that’s, keep telling me how good im doing, tell me im doing good.”

“fuck baby i need you to tell how good im fucking you.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

he’s gonna get you to moan, he knows all the spots that will have you screaming his name in know time. “come on.” he presses down on your stomach, you could taste the blood from biting on your lips. “you wanna fucking cum right.” he growls in your ear. “then fucking moan for me.” you finally give in after he continuously kisses your cervix with his cock. “sunghoon too much!” he scoffs. “now you have a voice.” he lightly slaps your cheek.

“i don’t care if it’s too much i wanna here you scream for me.”

©️LUVYENI

[theorphicangel]

maybe I’m thinking about the moment sukuna sits yuji down and finally tells him the truth about him and reader

( full fic before this is here but not needed to read this drabble!!)

sukuna finally sits yuji down, it’s only the two of them in the living room with sukuna’s twin brother, Jin, away at work.

yuji was busy playing with his fire truck in front of the couch until he hears his uncle to come sit next to him.

'hey yuj' come here for a sec'

the little one comes by, his toy fire truck that sukuna had gotten him for christmas still in hand. his eyes are wide and curious, giving his uncle his full attention. just at this sight, sukuna feels his stomach drop.

how the fuck was he supposed to break it to a six year old that you won't be around anymore? yuji practically worshipped you, from the first time that he introduced the two of you, yuji got obsessed. he followed you around and bombarded you with questions, asking every little thing about you. he gave you his shitty drawings and you kept them, putting them on your fridge. you'd make time to sit and play with him, diving into yuji's imaginative world a whole lot better than sukuna ever did.

you were patient and caring around him which sukuna appreciated a lot, it made yuji look up to you and treasure you greatly.

but now...well it's not the same. you haven't come by in weeks and yuji's began to question your disappearance.

'well...' sukuna hesitated, his tongue suddenly caught in his throat. what were the right words? how should he phrase this correctly so that his nephew doesn't end up in complete tears?

'yuji, you know-'

yuji cuts him off, stating your name.

sukuna lets out a dry cough, 'yes...about her' he can't bring himself to say your name. '...well we broke up. a couple weeks ago.'

sukuna lets his words digest. yuji looks down at his lap, fiddling with his truck, trying to comprehend. 'broke up?'

'yeah,' sukuna sighs, 'we're not seeing each other anymore.'

silence forms in the living room excluding the clock on the wall suddenly loud in its tick-tick-tick-tick.

'so...she won't come over anymore?'

'no, she won't'

'oh, okay.' there's clear sadness in the six year old's voice, immediately disappointed and now sukuna understands what his brother meant when he said that it would hurt yuji more than it would hurt him.

sukuna throws a hand at reassurance. 'it's okay bud because you still have me... and-and we'll do fun things together alright?'

yuji nods before speaking again, reflecting a little.

'but aren't you sad?'

sukuna wasn't prepared for that question. he struggles to come up with a quick answer, hesitating. 'yeah...i am.'

'i don't want you to be sad 'kuna' yuji mumbles, kicking his feet.

'it's okay yuji, i'm-'

sukuna's words are cut off by yuji coming in for a hug. his toy is discarded with yuji now focused on the task of wrapping his tiny arms around sukuna's large frame. sukuna shifts yuji onto his lap and returns the hug.

sukuna barely hugs his nephew, only in circumstances where he knows he won't see yuji for a long time.

'i hope you feel better soon.' yuji mumbles, his voice muffled. sukuna says nothing more as suddenly his throat is caught and words fail to escape from his lips. if it didn't hit him before then it sure does hit him now.

he hopes yuji doesn't notice his eyes getting blurry.

[strawberrymatchawhore]

p power

rafe cameron

“take it from him and i leave him with nothing”

summary- john b cheats on you with sarah cameron you get revenge by getting with her brother

warning- DUBCON, sex under the influence, raw sex (wrap it folks), drinking, smoking, partying, fighting, sex tape (reader knows hes recording but doesnt know he sent it to her ex), semi public beach house sex, meanish pussy drunk rafe lol

you took a hit of your pen, gently coughing from the amount you just inhaled. you were currently in your boyfriends room, confronting him. you had caught john b cheating on you with sarah cameron, kook princess and someone you thought was your friend.

“can you not do that in my room? take this seriously.” john b said swiping his hands in the air to get rid of the cloud puffs floating. you scoffed, the audacity.

“i dont give a fuck about what youre asking for me to do right now john b, you cannot be for real about me taking this seriously.”

“i dont know what to tell you, she was going through something. she needed me.” john b gave his bullshit excuse which made you even more angry.

“what about me, did you even think about me for one bit before you decided to fuck her ?” you screamed at him, getting up from the couch ready to leave the room. as you have your hand on handle, john b grabs it. his large hand covers yours.

“i love you.. please” he pleads, eyes getting wetter.

“dont touch me with that dirty ass hand john b, i shouldve known. no matter how much i showed my love for you, no matter how much i cared. you will always choose her.” you gritted through your teeth.

“i-”

“no, its okay. im done with this shit.” your voice cracks and you slam the door in front of john b's face, driving away with tears blurring your vision.

AT THE PARTY

you strut your way into the party, the annual bonfire that happens the same week every year. you grab a pink solo cup and fill it to the brim with jungle juice. you had already pregamed before and begged your friend to drive you here, laughing at yourself when you caught yourself tripping over the pile of beer cans on the floor. obvious that you were feeling the effects of the weed and alcohol combining.

you were tired, physically and mentally, you couldnt deal with anyones bullshit anymore. especially after what happened earlier in the day, you just needed a break.

“what are you doing here ?” you heard a voice question from behind, you turned and saw rafe cameron looking at you up and down.

“oh hey rafey, nothing honestly just trying to forget shit you know ?” you down the rest of your drink and turn again to retrieve another cup. before you can take a sip out of it, it gets knocked down by rafe. who angrily walks over to john b and sarah cameron who were conversing with each other in the corner.

oh shit

“the fuck are you doing bro? chill.” john b says and backs up. sarah tries to intervene by calling his name and you just stand there interested in what was about to happen.

“you feel good about yourself ??” rafe pushes john b, getting ready to instigate a fight. you fight the urge to run up and defend your man. but you stayed still.

this is what he deserves

sarah cameron stops her brother in his tracks and tries to stop him, he ignores her.

oh yeah try to get him to stop, cheater.

“looks like you got my sloppy seconds... good luck with that. shes a real handful” john b insensitively says, rafe continues his way toward him. and within a second throws a hard punch to his face. john b falls to the ground and rafe looks over him.

“you like that shit johnny ? huh ?” he moves and hovers over john b's body, and continues to beat him unconscious. kiaras dad finally pulls them apart, and you walk over to rafe checking to see if he was okay. sarah starts to angrily push rafe, but he doesnt budge.

“sarah you better stop that shit before you end up on the ground just like john b.” you glared at her angrily and pushed her away before gently grabbing rafes arm and walking away with him.

……..

“jeez rafe you really fucked him up…” you said while wiping the blood off his knuckles with disinfectant. he winces when you finishes it off with ointment.

“yeah i dont know what i was thinking, i just.. its just that he pisses me off so much an-” rafe drunkingly rambled, you hesitated. but then losing to your own thoughts you grab his face and kiss him. you quickly pull away fluttering your lashes, mouth slightly open. taking short deep breaths in and out, nothing but the sound of waves crashing could be heard.

“fuck im sorry.” your voice cracked, tears forming in your eyes. you even shocked yourself with that action, moving your hand from your face you fidget with your bikini top. rafe then gently grabs your face and makes eye contact, kissing back but with more passion. everything in the room starts to blur and your focus is only on him. he pulls away and begins to hover over you. cornering you further into the plush couch.

“nah don’t apologize.. just kiss me back” rafe whispers into your ear making his way down to your neck, giving it light kisses and sucks. his hands wander around your body, you begin to grow desperate and grind yourself onto his thigh, hands rubbing his back. you grabbed his hair to pull him closer to you, he groans in response.

"you dont understand how badly i want you.." he kisses you deeper.

"..how badly i wanted to do this." he backs up and takes off his shirt, his abs and buff body glistening from the ocean water combined with the low light of the moon. he lowers himself and his hands reach for your bottoms, untying them then tossing them onto the floor.

your breathing hitches when you feel his cool breath on your pussy, rafes arms grab at your thighs and spread your legs open.

"oh fuckkk" you lightly moaned when you felt his tongue on your clit making slow but rough licks. rafe laughs and moans into you, sending vibrations throughout your whole body. he looks up at your and makes eye contact with your glossy glazed over eyes.

"you taste so fucking good." he continues to lap at your juices, you looked at the blonde. dazed and memorized by how pretty he was. forgetting all your worries and troubles because of how good he worked his mouth. it was over for you when you felt his fingers prod at your entrance.

the combination of his long thick fingers sliding in and out of your wet pussy and his mouth on your clit drove you over the edge.

"fuck, you gonna cum f'me? please cum baby." he slurps and fingers you faster, your chest heaves up and down before you cum all over his face and make a mess. but rafe doesnt stop there, he removes his fingers and uses both his arms to hold your legs open. continuing to eat you out.

"oh my go- fu- please.. too much! rafe please sto-" you mewl trying to close your legs to no avail.

"uh uh stay still f'me" rafe tuts, eventually he stops and gets up, his mouth and chin dripping with your juices. he grabs your jaw and kisses you before taking off his shorts, the classic calvin klein banding accentuates his v line and you could see his bulge.

you sit up and your fingers hook at the band and pull his boxers down, immediately his cock springs up and hits his stomach. your eyes widened.

"its not gonna fit." you say, his tip is leaking with precum and you fight the urge to swallow him whole right then and there.

"dont worry it will." his hand pushes you back down and he uses his knees to spread your legs. rafe starts to rub himself up and down your pussy, circuling his tip around your clit. and you let out a satisfied hum. he was fighting the urge to just shove himself completely inside you and fuck you deep into the couch. rafe eyes your phone, and leans over to grab it.

he hovers the phone over your face and unlocks it, opening your messages app. he clicks on john bs contact and sees that he left 30+ texts, laughing at the idiot rafe then clicks on the camera feature.

“rafe w-what are you doing?" you asked, closing your legs shyly. your eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"dont worry, just trust me." rafe responds, leaning down to kiss you sloppily before he pressed record on the camera. using his free hand to push your thighs apart he moves the camera closer to your bodies, your lower body and his are in view. rafe then uses his fingers to spread your lips, showing the camera your slick. he slides two fingers inside you and gives it a few pumps before he removed them.

"open up f'me." he gently taps your cheek and slides the two fingers into your now open mouth. his long fingers caressing your tongue, automatically you start to suck his fingers. cleaning them.

"thats it... good job baby." he admires the way your plump swollen lips wrapped around his fingers, at this point his cock was aching in need to pump you full of his cum. he must have you.

"please rafe.. need you." you whined and looked up at him, watery eyed and pupils blown. you desperately moved your hips, and thank god he started to rub your aching pussy with his cock again. the both of you were hungry and needy. gentle whines filled the room, and rafe eventually slid himself in.

"oh fuck." rafe dragged out, slowly pushing deeper and deeper inside you.

"youre so tight, holy shit. mmmmm." bottoming out he stayed there for a moment to let you adjust. he was so long and thick, you felt every vein on it in your walls. you seriously had nothing to say, no words could have been let out to describe what you were feeling right now. pure ecstasy.

the both of you continued to say nothing as rafe sped up, drilling harder and faster into your wet pussy. his balls slapping against you ass, nothing could be heard besides moaning and the sound of his rough thrusts. you could barely see anything aside from rafes figure but you were sure that his back and biceps were now covered in scratch marks from you. the bright flash of the camera blinding you, you've never been filmed like this before. and the thought of you being slut out on camera made you even more wet.

"such a good fucking slut for me, youre takin' me so well." his free hand gripping tight on the fat of your hips to guide himself against your sweet spot.

"oh FUCK!" you let out a combination of a moan and scream when he continued to hit that spot, the knot in your stomach growing tighter.

"does your ex fuck you like this?" he slows down his pace, but you were too fucked up to respond.

"huh?" he asked and slid out just to snap hips back into you bringing you back to reality.

"no! oh fu- youre so much bigger.." you moaned, your pussy leaving a white ring at the base of rafes cock.

"yes yes yes. ah!" you whined when he sped up, which you didnt think was possible. rafe was pounding you so hard you were seeing stars. your hand went to cover your mouth but rafe slapped it away, and put it on your lower stomach.

"dont do that i wanna hear you moan f'me."

"you feel that?" rafe asked, you could see his cock bulging from your stomach.

"god- squeezing me so fucking tight..." rafe grunted, and lowered his hand to rub circles on your clit. your mouth slack and open, boobs bouncing up and down from rafes thrusts.

rafe wasnt even sure if he was getting all of this on frame, he was jackhammering into you like he hated you. he relished in the way your cunt clenched around him like you were made for him. and he was sure you were. all perfect, pretty and stupid for him.

"rafe i feel like im gonna pee, stop!" you screamed out and gripped his bicep. your stomach burned in pleasure and you felt like it was going to explode.

"pl-please oh my god, oh... my"

"thats it baby, squirt all over my fucking cock. youre so pretty like this." your eyes started water even more, he was fucking you so good you stared crying. overwhelmed with all sorts of emotions and feelings.

"so cute when you cry for me, if you keep doing that im gonna cum inside you." embarrassed you turn your head away and shake your head, the squelching and sight of your cunt was so sloppy and messy. rafe gripped your jaw and forced you to look at the camera.

"open your eyes sweetheart, keep looking at me." his fingers made their way down to your throat and squeezed.

"fuck." he whimpered, rafe has never done that before. the both of you were shocked but youve never been turned on this much.

"mmm keep doing that, you sound so fucking hot rafe." you urged him.

"im gonna cum, can i cum inside you? please baby" he begged, his thrusts becoming less controlled.

"yes, fuck. i need you to fill me right now. i wanna see your cum dripping out of me, breed me." the both of you were whiney, your cheeks were wet and your legs were shaking and sore.

"shit, you are so perfect.. this pussys so p-perfect." rafes body was tired, rutting into you like you were nothing but a fleshlight. his tip twitching inside you before he came deep into your cervix, making sure to push every ounce of his seed inside you before pulling out. and filming your dripping cunt before he ended the video.

rafe didnt have evil intentions but he wanted to let john b know what he lost, who would want to miss out on a girl like you?

*attached video*

"shes busy rn bro"

5 hours later you were laying next to a knocked out rafe, finally sobering up you went to check your phone. the most recent message being from none other than your ex.

why is he spam texting me?

"what the fuck? youre such a bitch" the text read, confused and curious you decided to scroll up. only to get surprised by a video of you and rafe from earlier. you dropped the phone in shock and turned to see rafe who woke up from the sudden sound. you picked your phone back up and shoved the phone into rafes face.

“what the fuck is this rafe?!"

[rosiereveries]

This is part two of ex - boyfriend´s dad John Price x reader

TW: age gap (John is in his late 40s and reader is in her early 20s), reader is in relationship with her ex-boyfriend´s dad, breeding, unprotected sex, reader is a female

Part one

John made it very clear from the biggening that he will not hide the fact that you were sleeping together. After the night you spend together at the party, he drove you home, and asked for your number. You didn’t think that he will actually call or text you. But when you walked the stairs to your apartment, you already had a message from him, that said text me when you get to your flat, so I know you’re okay.  You texted for a while and when he promised you, that he is looking for more than just some random one-night stand, you knew what you had to do.

The next morning when you woke up, you immediately texted your boyfriend telling him that you need to speak with him. After he told you that his schedule for this week was full (it was Tuesday) you knew you were making the right decision. You wanted to finish the relationship face to face, you were not a coward, and you were not afraid to break that boy’s heart. But he left you no choice. So, you just replied that he doesn’t have to bother, that you’re breaking up with him. He didn’t respond.

John’s situation was a little bit more complicated, he couldn’t just divorce his wife, yes, they signed a prenup when they got married (John was already rich), but the process of the whole divorce was time consuming and exhausting. He knew that his wife would not cooperate. But he was not a young foolish boy, who would hide his girlfriend. If he wanted to have a relationship with you, he would. John knew that his wife also had affairs, and he didn’t feel obligated to let her know about you.

So, when after some time of you hooking up, he invited you to his house for a weekend you agreed. You expected to be just with him, and you were quite excited. What you didn’t expect was when your now ex-boyfriend opened the door, asking if you came to see him. Of course, he ignored your messages, and he thought that you were still dating.

That’s how John finds you. Talking with his son, panic in your eyes realising that his whole family is home. But John doesn’t mind. He comes to you, with one hand he squeezes your ass and with the other one he holds your neck, and he kisses you, deeply and passionately. He needs to show his son, that you are his know, that he had his shot, and he fucked it up. When your ex starts to shout at you, for being a whore and sleeping with his dad, John just calmly says to him that this is his house, and if he doesn’t like what he sees, he can leave.

John’s wife reaction is pretty much the same. She tells you that John had many women over the time of their marriage, and none of them lasted longer than a few weeks. She tells you that John is maybe fucking you right now but she is still his wife. When John tells her that he is actively working with his lawyer on changing that she has a full meltdown and leaves.

When you are finally alone with John he apologizes to you. He says how sorry he is that you had to hear these things, but he wants you here now and he can’t wait any longer. He tells you sweet nothing and he kisses your neck repeating how good you are for him and how he is so grateful that he met you. When he starts to slowly touch you, creasing your breasts through your bra and gently biting your neck, you tell him that you can’t have sex with him when you know that his son, your ex, is here.

But that doesn’t stop him, he tells you that he wants to show him how good he can make you feel. In some twisted way you start to think about this as your revenge against your ex. John is right, if he doesn’t want to hear you fucking, he can leave. So, you tell John that he can continue. John bends you against the kitchen table, not waiting any longer and he starts to pull down your panties.

He tells you how long he’s been imagining fucking you here, rough and dirty and how hard it makes him. John wants to come inside you again and again. He pushes his dick into you fast, in one swift motion and you can feel him stretching you. Even though you slept with John more times that you can actually count, it is still a stretch for you. He starts to fuck you hard, and you can fell his dick bruising your cervix. When he pulls up your shirt and starts to play with your nipples you’re moans get louder. You tried to be quieter, but John knows how to make you sing for him. When you hear sounds on the upper floor you just hope that John’s son won’t come down. It is one thing to let him hear you and the other to let him actually see how his dad fucks you.

One of Johns hands slip between your tights, and he starts to rub your clit telling you to come on his cock now. You cum at the same time as John, his load spilling inside of you and your pussy milking him. After he pulls his cock out, he pulls up your panties, he gives you a smack on your ass, and he asks you if you want a tour of his home.

Then he fucks you in the shower you take together. He presses you against the glass, pounding into you like a horny teenager who can´t stop thinking about sex. Your next round is in his bed, late at night when he makes you ride him until your legs hurt. When you wake up the next morning John is already between your legs sucking and licking your clit, telling you how pretty your moans sound when you are asleep. Then, when you’re making breakfast, he asks you to return the favour, so you end up on your knees sucking his cock until he cums in your mouth.

By the end of the weekend John’s son is gone, he moves in with his friend and you’re in the house alone. Now John can fuck you whenever and wherever he wants. You do it the hot tub, in the garden and on the balcony. Every night you go to sleep with Johns cum in your pussy and you start to get worried. You take your birth control pills every day, but you’re not sure if they will work with this amount of fucking. You just hope and pray that you will not end up pregnant with John’s child, even though that is exactly what he wants. After all he needs to find a new wife and you’re the perfect candidate.

Masterlist

[hon3y-y]

NUH UH roomate!sukuna had his thot era, it's time for reader to have hers!!! And he's gonna sit there and WATCH it- payback baby. I wanted reader to fuck satoru, suguru, kento, choso, even fucking hiromi- she gonna get it ALLLLLLL before sukuna can even get a taste 😤

cw: noncon filming!

pt 1: here<3 pt3: here<3 pt4: here<3

omfg he would be soooo pissed💀

picture this;

The morning after everything happened, Sukuna was more than ready to make it official with you. He had already planned how he was going to seduce you. He got up early to hit the gym before you even woke up, so when you were finally awake, you would see him all jacked up and sweaty. It literally had his stomach fluttering with excitement at just how fast he knew you'd fold. 

Well, easier said than done, because when he does get home and hear someone in the kitchen, it's not you cutely rubbing your sleepy eyes in nothing but a baggy shirt. Instead, it’s that white-haired freak from last night. 

He literally rolls his eyes, ignoring the greeting the guy sends and telling him to “get the fuck out” to which Satoru just laughs, takes his toast (which he made in Sukuna’s toaster, by the way), and exits the kitchen while taking a bite. Sukuna goes to your room door but is stopped by the obnoxious blond.

“She left, said she was going to see a friend.”

“Why are you still here?”

Satoru shrugs before grabbing the shirt he had thrown onto the couch the previous night and waving goodbye, crumbs from the toast he was eating still on his lips, before the door slams shut. 

Ryomen was floored. Were you two officials? Is that why you finally brought someone home? He couldn’t deny the pinch in his chest, but he shoved it aside. I mean, he would happily break up a home, so even if this was your stupid boyfriend, it wouldn’t dampen anything. He doesn’t mind a little competition. 

At least, that’s what he thinks it’s going to be. Since that night, both of your schedules had been too complicated, and you two had only seen each other in passing. But tonight, he knew you would both be off and it’s the weekend, so he knows you at least don’t have anything till midday. 

You return late, and you are absolutely not alone.

You’re with another guy, some blond man who looks a little too pristine to be found at the club (who he later finds out is kento from your whimpered of “kento! Oh fuck—yes! right there!”).

You don’t even notice that Sukuna's door is wide open and instead stumble straight into your own. and Ryomen is jaw-dropped, shocked. 

He begins to feel like a cuck; all he does is listen to you fuck this random selection of men you’ve created within these recent couple of weeks and fuck his fist stupid. It’s so embarrassing to feel like a hormonal teenager who can’t get a grip. but he can’t stop; he just remembers what you look like under Satoru. 

Night after night, all weekend long, you’re bringing home someone new. although after a while it’s just the same three guys. the annoying blond, Kento (or “the businessman”), and some random boy named "choso,” who he walked in on you giving a blow job to.

You stopped immediately, so embarrassed and shy, as if you didn’t just have this guy with his eyes rolled back, nearly crying every time you gagged on him. Choso, on the other hand, looked too fucked out to care about the third person in the room. 

Sukuna was so hard and horny all the time, and his interest in finding someone to handle it was useless. He wanted you, not some random girl. He even bought a fleshlight for the first time, needing something other than his hand to hump. 

One night, he returned late and heard the sweet noises of your mewls (again, it was starting to feel like a routine). He tried to quietly pass your door, but stopped short. three voices?

He almost couldn't believe it, but after cracking your door open, there you were. You were jerking Satoru off, his white hair sticking to his damp forehead, while this guy with long black hair was pounding into you. One of his hands wrapped around your throat while the other played with your clit, your body jerking at the intensity of stimulation. Satoru played with your swollen nipples, pinching and leaning down to suck them. 

Sukuna can’t help but pull his phone out and record it, going back to his room and rutting into his fleshlight until his cock is raw. the video on a constant loop because he was so fucking addicted. You looked so good. so pretty, and pliant under them. He wanted, no, needed to have you.

You lay in bed, absolutely exhausted after Suguru and Satoru left. You still can’t deny the effect Sukuna has on you, but since you’ve started having hookups, you haven’t even tried to listen to what Ryo does (not that you could’ve or noticed, clearly. he’s been on a dry spell). While you sleep peacefully, snuggled into your warm comforter, Sukuna lies awake, extremely frustrated.

he’s sooo down bad://

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.