#WENDY WHEN I CATCH YOU WENDY

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"we've stolen lots of hearts over the years! and mono has stolen at least one!" ARE YOU FR

[silly-goofy-bg3-things]

Eliminster looking at young Gale: autism be dammed that boy is untraumatized Mystra: not for long Gale: what

[motheryves]

me when i find the person at SM who rejected loverboy & gimme love

[swagging-back-to]

started outlining that one angsty fic ive had floating in my head for like a year now.

[theogbadbitch]

I’m sitting up reading this , PISSED.

If he cheated, Andrea gotta kill him not even joking.

The tension in this was absolutely immaculate. I could literally feel that deep pull in my stomach like you just know that something not right.

As an angst girlie (& Lemonade album stan™️), this was VERY pleasing to me. Writing is amazing, no notes.

Also: Think of the messiest person you know…it’s a man isn’t it?

Semper Fidelis Vol II

Note: My first story cont.✨ & Open to constructive criticism as always. This was supposed to be a short one shot but y'all hyped me up in the comments of the last one 🫣 so here's part two 🥂 Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut, Use of AAVE, n-word, Suspicions of Cheating Mentioned Work count: 7k <

Read Volume I

Andrea excused herself from the crowd, weaving her way through the party goers and gracefully accepting well wishes with a practiced smile. The weight of Mark’s whispered words sat heavy on her chest, like a sleep paralysis demon. She pinched the skin on her arm taut to make sure she was actually awake. She reached the edge of the room and pushed on the door to the balcony, it opened harder than she intended causing it to slam against the windows behind it, and the frigid air swished around her body. It felt like every molecule in her body was aflame, so she inhaled deeply, surrendering to the frosty sensation.

Mark’s words replayed over and over again in her mind, each repetition cutting deeper.

They’ve been fucking. 

They’ve been fucking. 

They’ve been fucking. 

She shook her head, trying to dismiss it as drunken nonsense, but Mark had always been a reliable force in their lives. He was always one to push people's buttons and say the things others wouldn’t dare. 

But this? The timing… This wasn’t just some vulgar joke or offhand comment. It felt too deliberate as if it was meant to hurt. She looked out over the fireworks crackling in the night sky, the colorful explosions reflecting in her eyes, but the joy they were meant to bring couldn’t penetrate the storm raging in her heart.

Behind her, the party carried on unaffected. Laughter and music filled the air as Terry’s hearty laugh rose above everyone else's bringing her attention back to him. He was surrounded by a small group of men, his broad shoulders shaking as he laughed with his whole body retelling some old story she’s sure he’s told a thousand times before. His charisma still holding his audience captive, as always. 

She studied him from afar, taking note of the way he carries himself, so confident and relaxed. 

The way his green eyes crinkled and damn near closed when he smiled. 

The way he looked at her when he noticed her staring. 

Was it love? Or was it guilt?

“Mrs. Richmond” 

Andrea turned abruptly to find Colonel Amara Knight standing beside her, her expression soft but inquisitive.

“Colonel,” Andrea replied, forcing a smile. 

“You looked like you needed a moment” Amara said while stepping closer, her tone low and conspiratorial. 

“I noticed when you ran out of there… These big parties can be pretty overwhelming, but a little air always helps and this is a beautiful place to decompress..” 

Andrea nodded and turned to look down on the city below, appreciating the excuse to step away before she forgot herself and pushed her husband's alleged mistress off the roof.

That was the only option.

Sure she could hold her own in a street fight, but she wasn’t confident she could stand a chance against all that jujitsu shit. 

“You’re right. The view is breathtaking”

Amara smiled at Drea’s simple response, her eyes scanning the skyline and the chaos of the city below “Terry’s lucky, you know…” she started, “Not every Marine has someone like you holding down the fort at home and he couldn’t have made it this far without you. You’re the glue to keeping everything together, Andrea. Don’t ever forget that,” she stated matter of factly.

Andrea swallowed, her throat dry and glanced at her for a moment trying to determine her sincerity. Did she know? Did she hear Mark too? Was this all in her head?

She offered a tentative smile but before she could respond Terry’s voice boomed loudly from behind them

“Aye, there you go Drea!”

“You’re social battery doesn’t usually run out before mine, you okay?” Terry inquired, softening his voice and slipping his arm around his wife’s waist after he made his way to her. His touch was familiar and warm, but yet, it felt foreign in that moment. Andrea turned to him, his cheesy smile lighting up his whole face as Amara stepped back with an unreadable expression dissapearing into the crowd. 

“I just needed a breather,” she sighed out, her shoulders slumping as she pushed all the air from her lungs 

“Understandable.” Terry nodded “Great speech by the way, baby.”

“You always know how to make me look good” he added kissing her temple.

She half heartedly chuckled “You make it easy.” 

Sensing something was wrong, Terry turned to face her so he could look into her eyes and take in her expression. 

“You sure you straight?”

The question caught her off guard and she considered telling him what she heard and confronting him right then and there. But the party wasn’t the place. And she wasn’t quite sure she was ready to hear the answer.

“I’m fine,” she lied, offering a convincing and reassuring smile, “Just tired. It’s been such a long day.”

He nodded again, diving right into problem solving mode, “Well, why don’t we just sneak out early? We can go downstairs to just relax and let our guests continue to enjoy themselves.”

She hesitated, the thought of being alone with her own husband suddenly overwhelming “Maybe in a bit,” she shot back steadily. “I should mingle a bit more first.” 

“Let me know when you’re ready love” Terry kissed her on the forehead and shimmied passed the crowd to take his place on the dance floor screaming “woah-woaohhhh- hooooo!” as ‘Before I let Go’ started blaring through the speakers.

When he blended in with the crowd, Andrea turned back to the skyline taking a deep breath as her decision started crystalizing. She needed answers. She’d let Terry enjoy his night. He worked hard and sacrificed so much to give them a comfortable life; but she wasn’t going to wait long to get them.

The sheer curtains hanging in their bedroom did little to block the morning sunlight beaming through their bedroom windows. A dull ache throbbing at her temples was a lingering reminder of all the champagne she drowned herself in the night before.

Beside her Terry snored lightly his heavy arm slung upward and draped over his forehead. He looked peaceful and unburdened, his face relaxed in a way she rarely saw and she envied him because her own mind felt anything but peaceful as Mark's words resurfaced like a bad dream.

They’ve been fucking. 

Andrea’s phone buzzed on the nightstand beside her making the jewelry she discarded before crawling into bed last night clunk and rattle. She flipped it over and frowned, a text from Mark.

“We should talk. Call me.”

Her heart skipped a beat as she stared at the message. Knowing she couldn’t stay in denial and avoid these conversations forever she sat up slowly, careful not to disturb Terry and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. The cold from the hardwood floor under her bare feet made her wince, headache still pulsing in her skull. The chill cut through the fog from last night's alcohol and she slowly made her way to the bathroom in her strapless lace black bra and panty set. Pajamas weren't on the to-do list when they made it downstairs from their party. She reached for her baby pink silk robe to wrap around her and made sure to close the bathroom door softly, gently turning the lock. Going back to the text she received, she clicked on the contact photo, and pressed the call button. Mark answered almost immediately.

“Hey Drea” 

“Mark” she replied steadily despite her stomach twisting in knots at the sound of his voice.

“What did you mean last night?”

There was a pause, and when he finally spoke his voice was low and serious “I think you already know...”

Andrea tightened her grip on the phone, the implication of Mark’s words resting heavy on her chest.

 

“I don’t know, Mark..” she said, her tone sharp, “That’s why I’m calling.. Stop with the fucking riddles and just tell me what’s going on!” She exhaled, her shaky breath,  and then added more softly

“...please?” 

“Look,” he began, “it’s not my place to get in the middle of this Dre... But you a good woman and you deserve to know the truth.”

“The truth about what?” she snapped back immediately 

Another pause as Mark seemed to be weighing and calculating his next words.

“Terry and Amara.”

“What about them?” she whispered back

“It’s been going on for a while,” Mark admitted, “I didn’t want to believe it at first but… the signs are there.”

Andrea’s mind raced as she plopped down on her vanity stool to support herself before her knees gave out. She quickly thought back to every interaction she’d witnessed between Terry and Amara. The way they shared inside jokes, all the military lingo, the lingering glances she’d chalked up to professional camaraderie. Could she really be that blind?

“Do you have proof?” she asked, her voice tight. 

Mark hesitated. “Well, Not exactly... But I’ve seen enough to put the pieces together. The way she grabs his arms and clings to him when you’re not around... Late nights at the base... Private conversations… I see the way they act when they think no one’s watching.”

At this point the room was spinning and her stomach was doing summersaults. Circumstantial evidence wasn’t enough, not for something this serious, something that could blow up her life when she just got her husband back full time. 

 “That’s not proof Mark, that’s speculation,” she gritted out trying her best to stay calm. She needed his help, talking to this man crazy was not the answer.

“Maybe,” he fired back “but I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn't think you deserved to know.”

She stood up and swallowed hard, an involuntary reaction to his unwelcome revelation as thoughts of the previous night flooded her mind, “Why now? Why would you tell me at his retirement party?"

She started pacing back and forth as she recalled the events from last night, "And like that?… why was I up there in front of all those people..” 

“I was drunk,” Mark admitted, his tone laced with regret, “And I hate to see you in the dark when everyone else… knows.”

“Everyone else?” 

Mark sighed. “I’m sorry, Dre. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. But you need to talk to Terry. Or Amara.”

Andrea ended the call without another word. She couldn’t listen to this shit anymore. Not without concrete evidence. 

She did everything right. 

All those late nights alone when Terry was deployed and she could’ve been fucking their fine ass, heavy set, brown skin neighbor down the hall in apartment 1738 who always was a little too eager to help with groceries?

She stayed faithful.

She maintained frequent calls and dinner dates with her mother-in-law. She even took charge of his younger cousins, keeping them out of trouble and guiding them with patience. Every game she could attend during football season? She was there. 

What the fuck?

The room tilted sideways, her stomach cramped like someone just punched her in the gut, and her mouth started to salivate uncontrollably. She dropped to her knees just in time. Her body heaved over the toilet as she vomited, everything inside her coming up in sharp, gut wrenching waves. Her body was sore and empty from expelling everything out of her stomach, but her mind was full and hosted an uncontrollable storm of disbelief and pain.

After cleaning herself up, she gently pulled the bathroom door open, careful not to wake her husband, and padded out of their bedroom and into the kitchen to the smell of leftover party food lingering in the air. She started the coffee maker, the whirring and bubbling sounds filling the otherwise quiet apartment. 

Is this what it felt like to be in the twilight zone? 

Still slightly drunk, a little sore physically, and confused? She couldn’t stop her mind from replaying events of the night before, dissecting every interaction. 

Amara’s carefully neutral expressions. The way she backed away when Terry came outside to check on her. That fact that Terry didn't leave her alone with Amara long when he noticed them together. Marks slurred words. Terry’s affectionate kisses. Was everything a facade? 

The sound of heavy footsteps broke her trance. She glanced over her shoulder to see Terry, shirtless and groggy, scratching the back of his neck as he approached. 

“Morning,” he grunted sleepily.

“Morning,” Drea replied, forcing a small smile. 

He reached above her grabbing two mugs to pour their coffee and pulled the creamer out of the fridge. She was so deep in thought she couldn’t even hear the last drops of coffee sputtering out from the machine. 

“Hell of a party, huh? I don’t think I’ve been that drunk in years,” Terry laughed, handing her a mug three quarters of the way filled so she’d have room for her favorite cream and sugar.

“You deserved it. Everyone had a great time.”

“You were incredible last night, by the way baby. That speech? Perfect!” Terry took a sip of his coffee, closing his eyes slowly in content as the coffee worked its magic. 

She watched him as he just sat there completely at ease? It was hard to believe Terry would be capable of anything suspicious when he looked so relaxed, so utterly free of concern. Like a man who’d just retired... 

They fell into a silence that was comfortable for him, blissfully unaware of the confusion and doubt swirling within his wife. 

It was at that moment she decided. This is it. 

She decided right then and there to be done with Mark and his bullshit. In over 10 years, her husband never gave her a reason to doubt him and here she was driving herself crazy just because his drunk ass friend said so? 

No.

Enough was enough.

A Week Later 

The past week had been a delicate balancing act for Andrea. On the surface, life with Terry’s retirement was settling into a peaceful rhythm. For the first time in what felt like forever, they woke up together each morning, no more rushed goodbyes or hurried calls squeezed between drills or assignments. 

Terry was home and Andrea was determined to savor every moment, but beneath the surface, as much as she tried to forget, Mark’s words lingered in her mind. A poisonous echo she refused to give life to. She hadn’t confronted Terry, nor had she read or replied to any of Mark’s follow up messages. Instead, she buried herself in creating a routine for their life together. 

Mornings began with shared coffee on their balcony, the harbor stretching out before them like an ever changing painting. They laughed more often, rediscovering the rhythm of living in the same space. Andrea even convinced Terry to join her in pilates and yoga, an experience that had them dying of laughter as Terry struggled to maintain poses Andrea had mastered with ease.  

Still in quiet moments when Terry wasn’t looking, Andrea found herself studying him, watching for cracks, signs, or anything that might confirm or deny the suspicions Mark had planted. She hated this new version of herself, self conscious, suspicious, and guarded. But she couldn’t shake the doubt.

Today, though, she was determined to push past it.

Today was about them. 

Andrea stood in front of her closet, smoothing the soft fabric of a turtle neck dress she hadn’t worn in ages. Its cranberry hue complimented her warm brown skin, and the way it cinched at her waist gave her a boost of confidence. She paired it with simple gold hoops, target shark boot dupes, then checked her reflection in the mirror.  

“Drea” Terry called from the living room, his voice carrying easily through their apartment “You almost ready to go to lunch? I’m starving over here!”

After clipping her cherry charm on her coach purse, Andrea grabbed it and stepped into the living room smiling. Terry’s eyes lit up when he saw her. He was wearing dark Levi’s jeans and a crisp black button down rolled up to his elbows, each cuff pressed with precision . His gold chain glistening subtly at his neck, catching just enough light to draw the eye. 

“You look amazing,” he said, crossing the room to kiss her cheek. 

“Thank you, Handsome” she replied softly, smoothing his shirt collar. “Ready to go?”

They took the short walk through the whipping wind to a bistro situated on the harbor, the warm sun heating their faces between gusts of frigid air. The restaurant was cozy, with open windows framing the water below, and the sound of soft jazz played over the hum of quiet conversations. Their table was dimly lit and tucked into a corner. Andrea sipped on a mimosa while Terry ordered a whiskey neat. 

“To us,” Terry said, raising his glass. “And to finally have time to enjoy life together.”

Andrea clinked her glass to his, smiling even as a small knot of unease tightened in her chest. She took a long sip, the cool drink washing it away and calming her nerves. As their meals arrived, Terry reached across the table to take her hand. 

“You’ve been a little quiet these past couple of days,” he said, his thumb rushing over her knuckles. “Is everything okay?”

Andrea hesitated, the question she’d been avoiding rising to the surface. Her instincts told her to retreat, to keep things light, but the weight of unspoken words between them was growing too heavy. Instead, she decided to share an honest truth about something else. 

“I’ve been adjusting,” she admitted. “It’s… different, not being a military wife anymore. It feels like I’m learning how to be your partner all over again.”

Terry nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I can understand that. I’ve been adjusting too. It’s strange not having a mission to wake up to every day, but honestly, I’ve never been happier. You’re my mission now.”

The sincerity in his voice tugged at Andrea’s heart. She smiled, squeezing his hand. “I think we’re going to be just fine,” she said more to herself than to him.

“We got this baby,” he replied.

“Hey, later on tonight around dinner I told Amara she could stop by so I could look over her Q1 report. I wanted to give you a heads up.”

Andrea winced at the mention of Amara's name but quickly put on a smile, grateful that Terry’s attention was fixed on his plate and not on her.

“That’s fine, honey,” she said, her tone overly sweet to mask her irritation. “You trying to reenlist already?” Her attempt to tease him for missing work made him chuckle.

“No. Not at all,” he said, shoving a fry in his mouth and pausing to chew. “But we’ve been talking about this for a while now, and I think it’s time we really commit to it. You know?”

Andrea raised an eyebrow, a knowing and amused smirk curling on her lips. “And what’s that?”

Seeing Terry nervous was a rare sight, This man, her man, was the embodiment of quiet confidence. But in this moment, seeing him a little unsure made him less militant and more real, more human. She loved it.

“You know,” he murmured, tracing the rim of his glass with his long finger. “Having a baby.”

Andrea sat up a little straighter, a mixture of surprise and warmth settling in her chest as she watched him wrestle with his words.

“It’s just… I’ve been thinking about this a lot. Like, really thinking about it,” he continued, his voice growing more tentative. “And now that I’m home for good, I feel like we’re ready. It’s terrifying, but I know we can do this, Dre!” he said confidently. He paused and glanced up at the ceiling reflecting on his words.

“I mean, when I look at you, like really look at you, I can’t think of why we should wait any longer,” he said, his voice softer now as he clasped his hands together and fiddled with his fingers. 

“You’re so compassionate, and strong, and you’ve been an amazing wife.. I can’t imagine how amazing you’ll be as a mom. But… It's a big step. I just want to make sure we’re both ready for this. I know you’ve been working from home, but it might still be a lot with the baby crying all night, and trying to get them to calm down, and… well… you’d really be stuck with me forever after that.” He pursed his lips, cutting himself off mid rant.

He tried to stay quiet and listen to her response, but he couldn’t help himself, the words just kept spilling out. And Andrea listened intently, her smile growing he waved his hands around and continued yapping away. 

“I’ll recon when we get home… logistically, it’s a lot of groundwork to cover. We’ll need to baby-proof the house, right? Like all the outlets… And I read something about crib safety… Aww man, and there are so many different types of cribs. And then the sleep schedules? Oh shit, the sleep schedules, don’t even get me started on that... We might not sleep for years if we don’t figure that out. Have you heard about sleep training, baby? Some people swear it’s bullshit, but others-”

“Terry” Andrea interrupted with a laugh, unable to hold it in any longer. 

He froze, his ocean blue eyes widening as it set in how much he’d been rambling non-stop. 

“Sorry… It’s just a lot to think about, you know?”

“I know,” Andrea said with a teasing smile “Look at you, all.. flustered.” 

“I am not flustered,” he says with a raised eyebrow now trying to play it cool like he wasn’t just about to lose his mind over the number of crib manufacturers. 

“Yeah, you are, and you’ve really thought about this Terry. Probably more than I have, actually.” She says letting out a small laugh.

“You’re really worked up, huh? I thought I would be the one freaking out but look at you, baby! I can’t believe it,” she teased.

There was a softness in Andrea’s voice as she teased him, but underneath it was still a deep affection. She was used to Terry’s steady control, the way he carried the world on his shoulders without flinching. But in this moment, she saw the crack in his armor, and it made him even more real to her. He was truly home for good and the reminder of their new reality and what their future had in store was unexpectedly endearing. Her smirk faded, the desire to tease replaced by something tender, something that pulled her closer. Love. In these small, unguarded moments, when he was a little unsure, she loved him even more. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, her heart swelling.

“Alright, now..” Terry responded, trying to stifle a smile, “I guess I just.. I want to make sure we’re on the same page and doing this for the right reasons, you know? And I just keep thinking, what if we-”

“Terry,” Andrea interrupted, cutting him off with a gentle smile

“Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He scrunched his brows, processing her words slowly.

“Wait… what?”

“I said yes, Terry. Yes, we can start trying for a baby.” her tone was light, still amused by how flustered he was. 

A deep breath escaped him, one he probably didn’t even realize he was holding. His face softened, and his voice quieted, the relief evident in his words.

“I just wanted to make sure-" he started, but then stopped himself. His face softening as he finally looked at her.

Quietly and laced with gratitude he said, "Thank you."

"For saying yes," he clarified simply.

Andrea reached up to gently cup his face and pressed a sweet kiss to his lips. “Of course,” she assured, her voice soft and certain.

“I’m ready for this, Terry. We’re ready.”

As they continued their meal, Andrea allowed herself to fully relax, leaning into the warmth of the moment. For the first time all week, she felt like she could breathe. They lingered at the table long after their plates were cleared, sharing stories, laughing, and stealing small touches. By the time they left the restaurant, Andrea felt lighter, convinced that the life she dreamed of with Terry was not only still within reach, but on it's way to becoming a reality. As they walked back to their apartment, hand in hand, the weight of their discussion settled softly between them, unspoken but understood. She looked up at him as he held the door for her to enter their building, and in that moment, everything felt right. 

Terry leaned against the door frame of their bedroom, arms lightly crossed, with a small smile playing on his lips as he watched his wife sit on the bed, pulling the zipper of her boots down.

Retirement meant he didn’t have to rush to bed, worry about the next mission, checking in with superiors, or making sure the squad had all their gear prepared.

The absence of all pressure was both relieving and unsettling because for the first time since high school he could take a breath without the weight of his unit, his family, his country, and the world on his chest. Andrea had always been the rock in their relationship while he was away, but now, Terry could feel that she was learning how to navigate this shift in their dynamic as well.

The soft orange glow of the afternoon sun illuminated their bedroom highlighting her every move. She slipped off one boot, then the other, and Terry felt an undeniable urge to help. 

“Need a hand?” he asked, his voice low as he approached slowly closing the space between them.

Drea looked up through lashes, a playful gleam in her eyes “Of course.”

“Come here and turn around” 

She stood up and walked toward him. Following his command and turned her back to his chest so he could unzip her dress revealing her new red satin fenty set. 

His voice was a low growl, his eyes heavy and glazed with desire. “This for me?” he asked. 

She didn’t answer with words, but instead nodded, her lips twitching as she fought to hold back a smirk.

His hands found their way to her waist, pulling her closer. He wanted her in every sense. But more than that, this was now a mission, he wanted her to be the mother of his children, and to build a life together that was deeper than just the two of them. 

Andrea’s fingers slid down his neck, her touch soft but possessive, as if she too could feel the responsibility of the commitment they decided to make, the commitment to create something more. Terry couldn’t imagine anything more beautiful than that and the desire to take care of her while she carried his babies sent shivers down his spine. 

“Terry, are you sure about this?” she whispered, her voice was low but steady and he felt the weight of her question. 

“I’m sure,” he breathed out, his words thick with emotion. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against hers.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”

Terry sat back, a quiet smile tugging at his lips as he looked at Andrea with feet set in place on either side of his hips and her hands planted firmly on his chest. His hands moved up and down her back in a steady soothing rhythm as she bounced up and down his shaft. 

They’d been each other's first everything, first kiss, first love, first time. They’d explored one another’s bodies so many times it felt like they knew each other inside and out, every scar, every curve, every mole. He knew if she wanted to she could make him bust in seconds, and all he had to do was give her “that look” and she’d be gone off into the stratosphere. 

But something about this time, intentionally trying to conceive, felt completely different. 

It was like they were 16 and starting all over again. Every movement and touch was mesmerizing, like they were discovering something they’d long since memorized. The softness of her skin under his calloused palms rooted him in the moment, where every little thing felt significant.

There was no rushing. As the sun dipped lower, its fading light reflected off her nipple piercings, casting a soft red and pink glow.

Terry gripped her ass and quickly flipped them over, a little faster than intended, earning a soft giggle from Andrea. 

She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling with lust and affection, before pressing a light kiss to his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you,” she whispered 

“I love you,” he murmured against her neck, his voice low and sincere. “..so much, Dre.”

Using one hand to support his weight and the other gripping her waist he rolled his hips slowly, sinking deeper with each thrust. The sound of her slickness filled the air and with each plunge into her sex, he could feel his tip gliding against her cervix. Drea's moans grew louder, raw and throaty, as if they were coming from somewhere deep within her soul. Terry's focus was unwavering, driven by a single obsessive intent, to breed her and make her his in every way possible. He felt that familiar sensation building deep in his stomach, a warmth spreading quickly through his entire body. 

"Baby..." he cooed, placing soft kisses along her shoulder.

She moaned softly, her legs tightening around him, but she didn't speak, her eyes still shut as she lost herself in the moment.

“Andrea.. Look at me now” he said more sternly. 

When her eyes finally blinked open, he gently asked “Are you sure you want this?”

“Yes Daddy!” she shouted, her voice strained as she answered without hesitation.

His rhythm faltered, something about that word ignited a spark in him. Something primal. 

“Daddy, huh?” he said, his voice a little rougher than intended “I didn’t know Daddy sounded so good on me.”

“Oh, it sounds perfect on you” she breathed out 

“Yeah? Ok, mama…” 

“Yes!” she cried out in pleasure, “Let’s make a baby, Daddy” 

Those words were all it took, and Terry released what felt like the heaviest load in the deepest part of her pussy. With every stroke, his love for her seemed to intensify, and they came together gazing at each other through the haze of passion driven intoxication.

With their bodies tangled together, surrounded by disarrayed pillows and damp sheets, he basked in the pure feeling of satisfaction and contentment. They stayed that way for a moment, neither moving, just listening to the sound of each other's breathing and racing heartbeats, until Drea gently tapped at his butt cheek, signaling him to roll over.

“I’ve been doing some research…” Terry mumbled while intentionally keeping his pelvis aligned with hers so he didn’t slip out of her wet folds, gently flipping them over so she could be on top.

“I read something about how I should stay inside you for a bit after to increase our chances…” he said closing his eyes lazy clearly still sensitive to her touch

“Oh yeah?” Drea chucked as she straddled him. His hands instinctively went to her hips as she teasingly rocked back and forth slowly up and down his shaft, tracing patterns on his chest, and savoring the quiet aftermath of their decision. Her soft moans filled the space around them and as he laid there, Terry couldn’t help but think that this was just the beginning. A new chapter starting for the both of them. 

He opened his eyes, gently placed his hand on her stomach, and started rubbing small circles. “Hey baby,” he whispered with a grin

She burst into laughter, unable to hold it in. “We’re probably gonna need to try more than once, baby.” 

“We can try,” he said, tickling her sides for emphasis, “...whenever you want, baby. But I got that super sperm. He’s in there. I know it.” He said, pressing his lips and giving her a confident nod. 

“He!? Oh my God, Terry, please just stop!” she laughed, nearly out of breath from her fit of giggles

His watch beeped alerting him that it was the top of the hour. “Matter fact, I need to make sure he in there good, let me see something…” Using his hand to brace the back of her neck he flipped them over once again laying Andrea down on her back. 

"I got a meeting in a hour. Now that my first procreation tour is complete..." Terry said, his voice trailing off "...It's playtime.

"Let's see how fast I can make you cum again." he added with a mischievous grin

He pulled out, sat up on his knees, and leaned back for a better view. She could feel the cooling sweat from his thighs dripping down the back of her legs; Everything was sticky and from this angle he could see all his precious potential babies getting ready to slide out of her and onto the mattress. 

Gravity was a bitch. 

Using the head of his dick, he scooped up what he could and slid back into her, mixing her cream with his seed as he pumped in and out. Terry was determined; they were making a baby today. 

He studied every feature on her face as she moaned in pleasure, like he was seeing her for the first time, she was beyond beautiful. Truly. Inside and out. This new phase of their life was the beginning of something so sweet he thought. So many new adventures they had to look forward to without the daily stress and worry that he might not make it home.

He couldn’t help but wonder which traits their little bundle of joy would inherit from their mother. He wanted his son to look just like her. He used his right hand to push her thigh to her chest and his left thumb to circle her clit, using any of their cum that did manage to seep out as natural lubricant. Terry's gaze was focused on her lips, he locked in on the subtle difference her top lip slightly darker than the bottom a feature he always admired. Andrea bit her bottom lip, arching her back as her eyes squeezed shut. That's when he heard a soft word echo across the room.

“Oh” 

He blinked, confused. Then knitted his brows together. He knows he heard it. Clear as day, but her lips didn’t move. Terry knew he gave good dick. But telepathy? This was next level shit right here.

Andrea continued nibbling on her bottom lip, her breath coming in shallow gasps and he started drilling inside her steadily.

That’s when Terry noticed her out of the corner of his eye. Amara hovered in the doorway watching like she was trying to memorize every detail, her eyes wide and her mouth slightly agape. A quiet realization hit him. She's the one who spoke.

His curiosity peaked as he wondered how long she’d been standing there watching them. His gaze drifted to her feet, her crisp white shoes giving away the otherwise dark silhouette. His eyes slowly traveled upward as he took in her figure from the ground up. When his eyes reached her face, they locked with hers for a moment while he continued rolling his hips and thrusting in and out and in…

“fuuuccckkk” he exhaled, his eyes fluttering shut as he threw his head back in sheer ecstasy when Andrea clenched around him.

She was nearing her next orgasm and completely unaware of her husband’s work wife standing in the threshold of their bedroom staring. When he opened his eyes Amara was still locked in place observing, it was odd the way she watched them with unnerving focus, it was more strange that his dick was still hard and he couldn’t bring himself to pull out.

When their eyes met once again, Amara dropped her phone and the 3 ring binder she was holding. It smacked the floor with a loud slap. Opening her eyes wide with shock, Andrea’s head snapped toward noise. Shows over. 

“OH MY GOD!”

Drea jolted up using all the strength in her core to force herself into a forward crunch so she could straddle Terry’s hips. She locked her arms around his waist and buried her face in Terry’s neck; he twitched involuntarily inside her. There was no way there were finishing this round but he didn't want to stop, he still felt her throbbing around his member and her warm breath heating his neck. Damn.

“Sorry! Shit- Sorry!” Amara stammered, looking at her feet now, clearly flustered.

She crouched down awkwardly to grab the binder, fumbling with her phone on the floor unable to pick it up on the first try. Terry stayed on his knees holding Drea close to his chest and felt around for a sheet to wrap around them. 

“You gotta be fuckin kidding me,” Drea mumbled out against his neck.

When Amara finally got a grip on her phone she dashed out the room, pulling on the door handle to get it to close, and disappeared quickly down the hallway like she needed to talk to a man about a horse.

Once the door slammed shut Andrea looked at him, still processing what had just happened, her face flushed and eyes narrowed. Terry removed the blanket and placed his hand on her back to lower her down on the bed. He pulled himself gently out of her and gravity was back at it again. What a waste.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, “I didn’t expect that.”

The bed shifted below from Andrea standing up “I’ll.. uh… I’ll be in the bathroom,” she said with a nod toward the shower.

There was no masking the confused expression on her face as she slowly walked away. Terry wasn’t sure how to feel. He was relieved that Andrea hadn’t said anything more, especially with Amara still in their home, but he could sense the tension building in her too. That didn’t sit right with him. Annoyed by the interruption, the difficult conversation he’d need to have with Drea, and the work waiting for him with Mara, he swung his legs off the bed and grabbed his Levi’s and wife beater from the floor. After dressing quickly, he made his way to the living room to go over Amara’s report. He wanted to get it done as fast as possible.

As he approached the common area he stopped by the kitchen to wash his hands at the sink, it was probably best not to get sweat and cum all over official government documentation. He could see Amara sitting on the couch fiddling and organizing papers that must’ve jumped out of place when her binder fell.

“Sorry you had to see all that” he yelled out from behind the island. 

“I was kinda expecting you to knock,” he said with a soft chuckle trying to make light of the awkward situation as he grabbed a paper towel to dry his hands. 

She didn’t respond immediately, once she had everything sorted back into place and snapped the rings of the binder closed, she stood up. 

“Why the fuck would you ask me to come here Terry!?” she spat venomously.

Terry paused, his face momentarily blank as he processed what she’d just said. Then, as if a switch had flipped, his expression darkened, and his handsome features contorted into a fierce scowl.

Menacing.

Lethal.

If looks could kill she’d be on her way to the morgue.

“Why the are you talking to me like you just caught me cheating on you Amara?” He whispered back harshly, lowering his neck so he could look her directly in her eyes.

Just as she opened her mouth to speak, he kept going “I was with my wife, you here early as shit might I add, and you just let yourself in like you own the place? Huh? That key was supposed to be for emergencies only Amara, I mean what’s good with you my nigga!?"

Before she could respond, he pressed on with a very important question,

"Who. The. Fuck. Are. You. Talking. To!?” he gritted out, his voice growing louder with each word.

Retirement had already started to chip away at his legendary composure and unwavering demeanor. Pleasantries were gone. Pokerface be damned. He was beyond pissed and she knew it. To avert his gaze and his sharp arched eyebrow, she dropped her head and stared at her hands taking a deep breath before replying.

“I know she’s your real wife, Terry. But I miss you!" she whined.

"I asked for your help on this report but I thought..” She trailed off ‘..I thought since you have all this free time now that you’re retired that you might want to spend some of it with me.”

“Mara, what are you-”

“Actually, I’m going to go,” she interrupted. “This was silly and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt and I definitely didn't realize you’d be 'that' busy if I came by early.”

Amara didn’t wait for a response. She picked up her things, turned on the heels of her crisp AF1s and walked out, leaving Terry standing in the middle of the room. 

From the shower Andrea watched their exchange unfold on her phone from their security camera as the hot water trickled down her body. It was as if Amara’s words hung in the air like smoke. Terry stood there motionless, staring at the door as she walked out. When the door clicked shut behind her, he let out a long sigh and plopped down on the couch holding his head in his hands. Through the screen her eyes stayed locked on him and she observed him using his flattened palms to run his hands forward over his little waves, focusing on the rhythm to ground himself. 

Her hands trembled as she clicked her phone shut, she was right back to where she was the night of the party. Scared, uncertain, and questioning everything. Those words echoing again in her thoughts:

They’ve been fucking. 

She had successfully buried everything Mark said deep, she trusted Terry, she believed in him. But now? The air was once again filled with doubt. 

“This shit not normal," she muttered to herself.

She could feel the weight of what she’d just seen settle in. Drea couldn’t keep pretending her feelings of doubt weren’t there no matter how much she wanted to have faith in Terry. So, this was just the start. If she wanted the truth, she’d have to dig deeper. And this time, she wouldn’t stop until she found it.

A/N: This was my first attempt at a little smut scene. Imma need my OG writing girlies out there to host a masterclass because I'd like to register asaptually! I think I got one last chapter in the chamber to finish this one out. K. Thanks. Byeeeeee 🏃🏾‍♀️💨

tags: @alldthoughtsinmyhead @blackpinup22 @ticalsstallion @enchantedillumination @j0joworld @blackerthings @novahreign @onherereading @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @ashanti-notthesinger @kumkaniudaku @idyllicbarb @alonahh @ovohanna24 @skvrpion @fakxmbj @kindofaintrovert @notapradagurl7 @zillasvilla @hotmessexxpress @secretlifeoofmarpessa @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaesworld @solunaseira @persethegawd @liquorlaughslove

[divinedelusional]

rafe being grumpy when he's sick

rafe cameron x female reader

word count: 678

warnings: none

rafe never got sick anymore like ever

ever since he hit puberty he wasn't catching cold anymore, no health problems (expect for being fucked in the head)

so to say you were surprised when you saw him lying in bed under a thick duvet in the middle of summer would be an understatement

"yo topper what happened to rafe? i leave for three days and my boyfriend's completely wiped out??"

"is he asleep?"

"yeah! that's what's weird!"

"weird? girl you're lucky he's asleep, he's been a complete diva last two days"

rafe woke up after an hour and told you that he must have got sick when they were out at the beach and suddenly it started pouring cold rain and he was soaked before he got in the car

"yeah they brought me some syrup so cough is gone, but who gives a shit, this fuckin fever is too much anyways"

turns out rafe barely ate the last two days since he couldn't get out of bed and he was sick of the food topper and kelce were ordering for him

"wendy's not a type of food you eat when you want to get better rafe"

"hell i know, but what, is it my fault i have to have idiots as friends?"

you rolled your eyes and told him to lay down with cold compress for the fever

in the meantime you drove to get grosseries and made him chicken soup

you could see he really liked it but when he ate he mumbled a quiet "thanks" and went upstairs

that's the last you saw him that day and you were kinda mad at him

next day it didn't got better since he noticed you didn't come to bed last night

"i went to guest bedroom, im not catching whatever you got"

you didn't see him much for another day, only when he was coming to the kitchen for next bottle of water

so at least he took your advice to stay hydrated

not like you could hear him saying: hydration this, hydration that, who tf would want to pee that much

topper was right, you lived with a diva under one roof

grumpy, 6'2, hoodie clad diva

but on the third day you were finally about to reach a truce

rafe came for breakfast and you could see he felt better, as he was almost smiling and wasn't shivering

you ate breakfast in silence but he followed you like a lost puppy to the couch where you sprawled out to watch tv

you were watching real housewives of atlanta and rafe sat down with you for 3 episodes fourth now staring

he was quiet but all of the sudden he started to complain how awful it is to be sick in the summer

he tried to grab your attention, he knew you were testing him, you never binged rhoa for that long

you also knew exactly what he was doing, he was trying to make up with you but you weren't having his ways, so you informed him that you're going to take a swim

rafe was upset that his plan didn't work out, apparently not only sitting through four episodes of rhoa wasn't enough sacrifice for you but it also made him hungry

so he decided to win you back with very simple and little bit goofy solution

you came back after hour and a half, also hungry

you found rafe sitting at the table

there was a faint delicious smell in the kitchen

"you made soup?" you asked rafe after taking a peek to his plate

rafe didn't respond and held out a spoon to you, letter pasta forming words: im sorry bby

you couldn't be mad at him anymore

you ladled yourself a bowl of soup and formed a response on your spoon as quickly as you could

rafe smilled at words ur cute and let out a chuckle

"i missed this smile" you said and kissed him lightly, happy when you felt him smiling into the kiss

"and i missed those lips"

a/n: my first work for rafe, hope it was okay and feedback is really appreciated ♡

bottom divider by: @astralnymphh

[anthropoetics]

love is stored in the pen & paper: poems

being boring, wendy cope

intifada incantation: poem #8 for b. b. L., june jordan

thursday, james longenback

history student falls in love with astrophysics student, keaton st. james

the demon, mikhail lermontov

four friends catch up over pasta, amy kay

sonnet 18: shall i compare thee to a summer's day, william shakespeare

litany in which certain things are crossed out, richard siken

the eyes of the poor, charles baudelaire

stop me if you've heard this one before, kaveh akbar

conversation with a rock, wisława szymborska

the joy of writing, wisława szymborska

can in an empty apartment, wisława szymborska

blind fish, yusuf komunyakaa

the crane, javier peñalosa m.

train to agra, vandana khanna

landscape with a blur of conquerors, richard siken

warming her pearls, carol ann duffy 

what resembles the grave but isn't, anne boyer

what the living do, marie howe

gretel, from a sudden clearing, marie howe

death with dignity, kaylee young-eun jeong

keeping quiet, robert bly

i go back to may 1937, sharon olds

the encounter, louise gluck

outhouse, rachel mckibbens

the end of poetry, ada limón

i felt a funeral, in my brain, emily dickinson

how to watch your brother die, michael lassell

boston, aaron smith

laura palmer graduates, amy woolard

upon learning that some korean war refugees used partially detonated napalm canisters as fuel, franny choi

monet refuses the operation, lisel mueller

flare, mary oliver

tomorrow is a place, sanna wani

shoulder, naomi shihab nye

snowdrops, louise glück

hammond b3 organ cistern, gabrielle calvocoressi

the night dances, sylvia plath

makeout sonnet, douglas f. brown

you mean you don't weep at the nail salon, elizabeth acevedo

when i'm asked by lisel mueller

every single day (after raymond carver's hummingbird), john straley

for julia, in the deep water, john morris

the same city, terrance hayes

in blackwater woods, mary oliver

the bridge, c. dale young

mittelbergheim, czesław miłosz

gift, czesław miłosz

late ripeness, czesław miłosz

[niiwa-angel]

I can't stop thinking about how Stan Pines, a man who was kicked out of his home at a young age by his abusive father, turned his own home into such a safe space for not just the twins, but his employees and the kids friends as well.

First of all, we know Wendy frequently slacks off on her shifts, she has her roof top hideaway but she also reads magazines and flat out refuses to do certain tasks. Like when Stan asked her to put up a sign and she just said she couldn't reach it, or telling Stan "absolutely not" when he asked her and Soos to clean the bathrooms. Not only could Stan fire her, he could take away her magazines or stop her from going on the roof. We see that Stan is more observant than he lets on, you're telling me he didn't notice her dragging a cooler and a lawn chair up there? And she's either bringing her own pop and ice to fill that cooler or she's taking his.

And then there's Soos, who Stan cares about so much he got himself on the no-fly list trying to get his birthday removed from calendars, just because it made him upset. We know Soos cares about the Mystery Shack, he feels comfortable there, and he respects and adores Stan. Soos also volunteered to DJ for free at Stans summer party.

We also frequently see Soos and Wendy hanging out with the twins, so either they're slacking off during working hours or they're coming over after their shifts just to hang out. In an after credits scene, we see Mabel and Dipper turn Soos into a disco ball and they're clearly in the residential part of the shack. So either Soos buggered off during working hours to hang out with the twins or he's off shift just chilling. Either way, Stan is fine with him being in the actual house part of the shack.

Wendy also helps Mabel try and make Stan more 'desirable' to Lazy Susan, which I'll get into later, but she's not working and she also in the house part of the shack. We also see Soos and Wendy watching television with Stan, Mabel, and Dipper during the Summerween episode. They aren't on shift! They're just chilling. Wendy hits Stan in the face with a water balloon while working as a lifeguard. She's comfortable teasing him.

Soos tags along with Stan, Dipper, and Mabel when they break into the golf course after hours. He brings his shirts to cut Ws into. He doesn't have to be there, he just is. Wendy goes hunting with Mabel and her friends for unicorns. Mabel wins a pig at the fair and Stan lets her keep it, the pig needs food, who do you think is footing that bill?

Now let's talk about friends. Mabel often has Candy and Grenda over, we know she has loud sleepover with them. Do you think Mabel would bring her friends over if she wasn't comfortable in the house? Do you think Candy and Grenda would keep coming over if they didn't feel safe? Not to mention, they literally ambush Stan in the bathroom and give him a make over. Which he allows, we see him fight off the undead, punch bald eagles, and catch the twins when they fell from the nose of that monument. The man is strong, he could get three preteen girls off him if he wanted to, he was 100% playing along.

Candy and Grenda also invite themselves along on their road trip. And Stan lets them come!! Mr cheap stake agrees to feed and care for two extra kids who aren't his family.

Dipper sneaks around trying to see his tattoo, he feels safe enough with Stan to push those boundaries. He literally pulled the Memory Gun on Ford during the basement scene, if he wasn't comfortable with Stan, he wouldn't try to get that close to him. He calls Stan when he and Mabel are trapped in a haunted convenience store (he doesn't answer but still, he called him).

Now let's talk about Gideon, because I will stand by the Stan had some fondness for the kid. We know Stan has been annoyed with Gideon for a while, we know Gideon has been gunning for Stan for a while. And Stan just... Keeps letting this happen. He never involves the police, he plays along with Gideons attempts, even when Gideon is laughing uncontrollably, Stan just assured him that "you'll get me one day kid". Even when Gideon climbs in THROUGH THE WINDOW all Stan does is aggressively sweep at his feet. Correct me if I'm wrong, but Stan never gets rough with Gideon.

I'm just, I'm weeping over the knowledge that Stan Pines, who wasn't safe in his own home, made his home a safe place for kids as an adult.

[notlongtolove]

the garden is growing

"you live together, work together. doesn’t it all get a little boring?" there’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. the cups of tea, the folding of blankets. you could never call that boring.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader (second person, no y/n)

genre: fluff! maybe angst if you really really squint

content: after catching up with an old friend, bau!reader and bf!spencer have a contemplative talk about their relationship as they walk home. domestic... mentions of marriage... lurve in the air...

word count: 2.2k

note: a post finals treat to myself! leaned heavy into the garden imagery for this one lol, this was heavily inspired by the poem linked, i highly recommend it! o i also added some song recs below for this one :P (ps i did not mean to compare spencer's eyes to PEBBLES but it was either that or a random brown flower... sorry.)

a line: The perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

If you ask me 'What's new?', I have nothing to say Except that the garden is growing. - wendy cope

When you were younger, you had a garden. A field just a stone's throw from your front door. Not the kind in a backyard, fenced in and manageable. No, it was wild and uncontained, the grass alive beneath your feet. They used to say love was like a garden. You'd think about that sometimes—how you were supposed to tend to it, rake and comb and pull out the weeds before they strangled your beautiful flowers. And when it rained, you just had to let it. Let the downpour come and see what survived.

You’re standing under the awning, shaking droplets off your jacket. You mumble a thanks to the doorman as he holds the door open, offering a silent nod in return. The door opens to a polished, marble lobby, and suddenly you’re acutely aware of how out of place you look. You’d come straight from the office, having dwindled your stack of case files from a grand total of 26 to a modest 19. The grand mirror to your left does nothing to help. If anything, it’s magnifying the creased fabric of your trousers and the damp strands of hair stuck to your cheek. You shift uncomfortably, tugging at your sleeves and smoothing your hair out in a futile attempt at order. It was urgent she’d said. A matter of utmost importance. You’re not sure why you’re here, but you know with certainty that you’d rather not be.

She sees you before you see her. She calls out for you, the nickname wrapping around you like a sweater one size too small—warm but suffocating. It might as well be. You haven’t seen her in nearly a year—maybe a year and a half? You shrug, suddenly missing Spencer’s precision, his ability to pin things down to the day, the hour.

"Hi," you manage, sliding into the seat opposite her. “I’m really sorry. Work was crazy—" you start, but your words dissolve the moment she thrusts her hand forward. A diamond—no, a boulder—catches the light, dazzling and deliberate. You nearly choke on the glass of water you’ve just picked up. 

"Let me tell you about crazy," she says, her grin sharpening. 

Oh, the yacht! And don’t even get me started on the violins, can you believe it! The sea was just gorgeous—Did I mention it was on a yacht? Her words tumble out as you try to follow along, but you can’t quite keep up, only noting it definitely involved an abhorrent amount of Dom Perignon.

“I wish you could’ve been there to see it,” she says, her voice tinged with what you hope is nostalgia and not pity.

“I’m sorry I missed it,” you murmur, and you mean it—sort of. You used to be close, but since starting at the BAU, everything else kind of took a backseat. It had to. “I wish I could’ve too. Work’s been—”

"Crazy, right," she cuts in, waving it off. "Big fancy BAU," She winks. "That job’s gonna be the death of you one day y’know, all those hours." You force a laugh, but her words hit a little too literally, heavier than she knows. You don’t think she quite grasps the reality of your work.

“So,” she says, leaning in now, her chin propped delicately on her hand, her diamond ring catching the light. You can’t help but think it’s mocking you. “How’s things going with Spencer?”

"Oh, they’re going fine."

"Fine?" She raises her brows. "Trouble in paradise?"

“No, not at all,” you insist, your voice instinctively rising in defence. “We’re—fine. You know, same old, same old. We just wrapped a big case actually. This guy—” You cut yourself off, realizing mid-sentence that the story of a guy meticulously collecting hair from women post-mortem doesn’t feel like the kind of story to share during dinner under a sparkling chandelier—Not that you’re doing much eating anyway. The menu was a labyrinth of fancy salads, obscure cheeses, and entrées described in French that you’re only half sure translate to lamb. You’d settled for pushing a few greens around your plate, making a mental note to stop by the bodega later.  

Her laugh pulls you back to the table, "I don’t know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"You know… Live together, work together, day in, day out. Doesn’t it all get a little..." She trails off, letting her expression finish the sentence. 

"A little… what?" 

"Boring?"

You blink. "Boring?" 

The word tastes bitter. You don’t like it. The way the dog always chases the cat? Boring. The way the cat always seeks shelter in the same tree? Boring. But the way they both come running home every time you call? That’s never boring. Spencer in the quiet mornings—hair tousled, voice soft and sleepy as he murmurs a 'good morning.' The cups of tea, the folding of blankets. You could never call that boring. 

She laughs lightly, the sound cutting through the restaurant’s hum. "Not in a bad way! I just mean... do you guys even go out? Like, for fun? You guys have been together for, what like, years now?” Three years and 4 months, you think to yourself. You’d never need Spencer’s eidetic memory to remember that. 

"Well, yeah, sure we do…" you say finally. "Um, we went to a museum recently." You don’t tell her it was to interview a suspect. Her smile tightens, like she’s not sure whether to believe you or feel sorry for you. You take a careful sip of water, resisting the urge to shift under her gaze. There’s a weight to her observation, something invasive, like she’s pulling out weeds that you never asked her to tend, tilling through soil that’s been left unbothered for too long. Outside, the rain keeps falling.

By the time you part with polite hugs and hollow smiles, the downpour has softened to a drizzle. Spencer is waiting by the curb, hair slightly damp. His eyes light up at the sight of you. Under the glow of the streetlight, they remind you of the pebbles you used to collect by the garden path. You’d carry them home, pocketful by pocketful, washing and scrubbing at them until they shone. Only your favourites made it to your shelf. Tiny, perfect trophies.

“Hi, honey.”

"Hiya." You lean into his chest, a tired smile tugging at your lips as you manage a strained, “I’m starving.” 

“Hi starving. Care for a burrito?” he asks, tilting a takeout bag toward you with a small smile.

Your eyes meet his, and there’s something in his smile—soft, understanding, familiar—that makes your chest ache. “How’d you know?” you ask, practically tearing into the bag.

“Searched the menu after you left,” he says simply, falling into step beside you as you start walking. “Figured you wouldn't have liked much in there," he shrugs, casual. You feel your cheeks warm. Two hours away from Spencer Reid is two hours too long. 

The walk home is quiet at first, the two of you picking your way around puddles reflecting neon signs. The burrito’s long gone, leaving your hand free for Spencer to hold, fingers interlocked.

“She’s engaged,” you say eventually.

Spencer furrows his brows. “Already?”

“It’s only been like, what, eight? nine months?”

Spencer frowns, pauses then says, “256 days”, the precision drawing a faint smile from you.

“Crazy isn’t it?”

“I guess. Some people are like that,” he says, “Did you know statistically, couples who get engaged within the first year of dating are 20% more likely to divorce within the first five years?”

“With that prenup incoming she’d better hope they’re the exception then…” you murmur, not really listening. 

There’s something in your chest, persistent and heavy. You can feel its roots stirring, working its way beneath the surface, threatening to loosen the earth that keeps you grounded. 

A few more steps in silence. Then, quietly, “Do you think we’re boring?”

“Boring?” Spencer tilts his head slightly. “Do you think we’re boring?”

You hesitate, suddenly self-conscious. “I don’t think we’re boring, but you know, we don’t do much.” 

“We’re in the FBI, honey. I’d argue we do a lot.” He smirks, the corner of his mouth twitching playfully. You try to laugh, but it comes out forced, brittle—like a flower trying to push out a bloom that's not quite ready yet.

Spencer notices, as he always does. “Is there something you want to do?” It stirs in you again, something tender and uncertain. You don’t know if it will be a flower that blooms or a weed that chokes out everything else. 

“No,” You say a little too quickly, “Nothing really, just... Other than work and home—”

“What’d she say?”

“Hm?”

“You love work, you live for it—I practically have to drag you out of the office most days,” he reasons, tone calm and steady. “And, if this is something that was bothering you… I’d have known. So it must’ve been something she said.” You stop walking, the words catching in your throat. It bothers you—how her vines have crept into your garden, straight through to the soil beneath. Flowers rarely thrive in foreign soil, you think. 

“Not really,” you lie, biting your lip—a tell Spencer surely catches. “We just talked about the engagement. Well, she talked.”

He doesn’t press, though you can tell he doesn’t believe you. His gaze lingers, but he chooses to give you space. “How was it? The engagement.”

“Something about a yacht,” you reply with a shrug.

“I thought she was afraid of water.”

“Not when it’s on a million-dollar vessel, apparently.”

Spencer chuckles. You continue to walk. Your feet do their best to trace the familiar trail, trying to find the garden path that takes you home. Left. Right. Left. Right. But your thoughts snag, tripping on an unseen vine, and you stumble.

“Do you ever think about it?” you ask.

“About what?”

“Like... if we ever get married and stuff.”

Now it’s Spencer’s turn to stop mid-step, rooted to the spot, his body going still. You freeze too, breath trapped in your chest, a flush spreading across your cheeks. “I’m sorry,” you rush to say, the guilt sharp and immediate. “That was silly, I shouldn’t have brought it up.” 

You tug softly on his hand trying to pull him forward, but he doesn’t budge. His brows knit together as his gaze locks with yours. 

“When.” 

“When what?”

“You said if. I’m saying when. When we get married.”

“When we get married?” you repeat, your voice barely above a whisper, as if speaking any louder might shatter the moment.

“Yeah,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “When. Not if. I don’t think really of it as a hypothetical possibility.”

Your chest tightens and you don’t know exactly what to say, but your fingers instinctively tighten around his. Spencer senses your silence and rushes to fill the space.

“Do you… not think that?” he asks, a hint of uncertainty creeping into his voice.

“I do! Of course, I do.” Your voice falters. “I just… I didn’t know you thought about it that way too.”

Spencer hums, soft smile on his face. “I know I tend to look at things in terms of statistics, probabilities—But us? There’s no ‘ifs’. Not with you, honey. Never with you.”

And just like that, the earth beneath you shifts, breaking apart to reveal a bud. Not a flower but a fruit-bearing tree. You try and fight the urge to throw yourself into his arms and kiss him, but he’s already leaning in, his lips warm and familiar against yours. As you pull back, eyes locked, you think back to the pebbles you used to collect. Your tiny, perfect trophies—Spencer’s eyes are far better, you think. 

“You smell like burrito,” he teases. You laugh, the sound light and easy. “You love burritos.”

He brushes a stray curl from your forehead. “I love you.”

Through the clearing, you see it. The vines have receded, the rain has come and gone. Your feet step off the garden path with certainty. It’s safe now. It’s here. 

“So,” you say with renewed excitement, your steps light as you glance at him, “Beach wedding?”

Spencer wrinkles his nose. “Do you have any idea how much fecal bacteria there is in beach sand?”

“Blegh.” 

“No, seriously. Beach sand has 10 to 100 times more fecal bacteria than seawater.”

“How about we don’t throw around the word ‘fecal’ when my burrito is still working its way through me,” you reply, grimacing. “What’s your genius idea then?”

He grins. “Barn wedding?”

“Spence, I love you, and I know you’ve always wanted to be a cowboy, but I’m not walking down the aisle with hay in my hair.”

He laughs, shaking his head as you walk side by side, hands swaying between you. Spencer spots a perennial growing out of concrete cracks by the lamppost 2 steps ahead of you. 

“What about a garden wedding? In spring?” 

“A garden wedding,” you say, a soft smile spreading across your face, “Yeah, I’d really like that, spring’s nice.”

"Okay,” he says, hand warm in yours, “in spring then."

There’s no towering oak tree, ancient and steadfast, to mark this moment, no circle of wildflowers dancing wildly around with their colours. But still the perennial pushes its way through the cracks in the concrete—small, steady, and undeniably alive. It’s there. It’s growing.

They used to say love was like a garden. When his drought comes, silent but devastating nonetheless, you quench it with your rain—soft, temperamental. And when your rain changes her tide, thrashing and wild, he shelters you beneath his leaves, vast and unyielding. Together you prune the dead parts, plant anew, and marvel at what thrives.

The next time someone asks you how things are going, there’s no pursed smile or hesitant pause, distant in thought. You just smile and say it's going. It's going alright. It's going great. It’s going fine. 

Because all that matters is that it's going. 

Your garden is growing. 

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆ hi if you're here! thank you for reading! feel free to like or reblog or comment or reply!

ᯓ★ song recs if you feel like it: nothing by bruno major love letter from the sea to the shore by delaney bailey

[arpstail]

My worst fears came true btw, I wasn’t ready

oh hi wendy!!!

a castle swimmer screen shot?

:3

WENDY WHAT THE FUCKKKKKK??????

[msgexymunson]

Highest Bidder

Description: When you get Eddie to agree to be on auction for the Valentine’s Ball, you don't count on jealousy affecting you this much. To be fair, you didn’t think Chrissy Cunningham would be there. But maybe, just maybe, he likes you just as much as you like him? 

Warnings: Angst, fluff and smut, my favourite horsemen. NSFW, Minors DNI or I'll shoot you with arrows and not the cupid kind. Slight older, 25 ish Eddie Munson x 23 ish fem reader, confessions, BFFs to lovers, oral fem receiving, p in v unprotected sex (dress before you impress irl) 

A/N: So this was meant for Valentines but I decided to catch Covid instead. Inspired by the auction scene in Groundhog Day. I loved writing this, hopefully you get the desperate pining feeling that I was trying to give off. I love all of you, not only on Valentines but every day. 

Comments and reblogs keep this little paper heart from bursting Into flames. Please, comment and reblog, it makes me so happy you don't even know. 

7k words

Masterlist

“So sweetheart,” Eddie begins, a sly smile creeping over his face as he steeples his hands in front of him, elbows on his knees, “are you gonna tell me why you did it?” He's sitting across from you in his armchair, like this is some sort of bizarre job interview. 

The surroundings are familiar. Eddie's second hand couch, the worn fabric soft under your thighs. The coffee table you helped drag up four flights of stairs, adorned with a coaster placed entirely for your benefit, of course. It's not like Eddie cares about water rings. The comforting smell of the fabric softener Eddie uses intermingled with cigarettes, and incense to cover the smoky aroma. That, and Eddie's aftershave; faint after a night in proximity of it, but there all the same. 

The situation is not familiar. The wayward glances, the lingering touches, the tension filling the air so thick it's like trying to move through cake batter. Wading through some dense, sweet, all consuming feeling that sticks to your ribs and pulls you into its gravity.

Torn between looking at him and shyly stirring your drink with its straw, you think about it. Why did you? The answer wasn't simple. It never was, with Eddie.

It all started with the Valentines Charity Ball your mom roped you into helping to organise. She was a force to be reckoned with, your mom. The human equivalent of a wrecking ball. When she got involved with any good cause, no one and nothing could stop her. Including you. 

So, when she ran to you in desperation last night, you didn't hesitate. One of the guys for the date auction had taken ill and she was stuck for a fourth. So, the first name you could think of spilled out of your mouth. It took some convincing. No, he's not just some freak. Yes, he's doing well for himself. Yes, he's got a steady job, an apartment. No, he doesn't deal anymore. Yes, he's good looking, obviously. No, we aren't a thing, we were never a thing. 

You were never a thing. It was much more complex than that. Affairs of the heart always were. When you'd met Eddie at school you were quiet. A loser, living on the fringes of obscurity; not popular, but not strange enough to be bullied. Eddie was safe. A shield. You'd entered Hellfire without a second thought. And sure, he was handsome, ridiculously so. But at the time, he was seeing some twig called Stacey or Samantha or something, and you bit down on your attraction. Hid it deep within the tissue of your heart. Swallowed it whole. Then, you'd dated Thomas, and after that, he had seen Wendy, and then it was circumstantial. At no point had the pair of you been single together until recently, so it clearly wasn't meant to be. Whatever attraction you'd been harbouring was mellowed, dissolved and disintegrated in yourself. After that, he was just Eddie. 

Convincing Eddie to do the auction had been an entirely different story. It wasn't nerves. He had stood on tables in the cafeteria to speak his mind, after all. He had conveyed his innermost thoughts to almost any who would listen, like some wayward preacher at a bizarre sermon. It could never be nerves, not with him. It was always the fear of not being enough. The fear of himself. After many words of encouragement, he'd agreed. If only to shut you up, but it worked. 

What you hadn't accounted for was the sight of Eddie climbing out of his beat up van in a goddamn button up shirt and fucking dress shoes. In jeans that weren't ripped, with wild hair scooped back into a low bun. You hadn't counted on the easy smile you'd seen a thousand times now winding into your stomach and sending raven wing beats into your heart. In the soft wink that loosed a thousand moths within your core. Moths, they say, live at most, a day, but these seem ancient compared. Alive in an enclosure you had created years ago, set loose suddenly and all at once, their once fixated caretaker ignoring his responsibilities. 

“Hey sweetheart, am I late?” 

When had his voice gained that huskiness, that depth? When had looking into his chocolate brown eyes melted your insides? A twinge in your back brought on by the stress of the night took you back to the here and now. Gazing back at him whilst you attempted to rub it away, you replied.

“N-no, not at all. You, you look really good, Eddie.” 

He scoffed aloud, shaking his head in disbelief, a cascade of loose curls flowing around his face. 

“That's a load of crap. You, hey, you look amazing. Seriously, smoking hot.” 

Your head span with the compliment, as you looked down at your own outfit. It was a ball after all, and for once your mom had insisted on a dress. It was a deep red, cheap satin, low cut, a tasteful hem at the knee, with a slit up the side providing at least a little mobility, and kitten heels. Currently, you felt like an outsider looking into a different world through plexiglass, but the way Eddie looked at you made you feel like you belonged. 

‘It's nothing, just a dress.” 

“Hey,” he replied, crowding your space with the confidence he embodies, “you look incredible. Trust me.”

His knuckles dragged across your flushed cheek, and for a moment all sense of who you were and why this was happening was lost to the feel of his skin on yours. But only for a moment. Dipping your eyes down, you took a tiny step back. 

“We should head inside Eddie. You ready?” 

After a couple of hours of cheesy music and weak as fuck punch, you tapped your fingers on your plastic cup and turned down the latest pensioner who thought you were here for his amusement. Until finally, the host tapped the microphone and asked everyone to gather at the front for the main event. You made your way to the side of the stage in case you were needed, and waited for the bidding to start. 

“And now, ladies and gentlemen, we have the highlight of the night. For one night only, Hawkins’s most eligible bachelors will be yours, to an extent. Be prepared to be wined, dined, and entertained, by our finest gentlemen, all in the name of charity, of course. And first up, is our very own George Heights! Give it up for George everyone!” 

The crowd clapped as George walked onto the stage, an early balding man with just the hint of a pot belly poking through his chequered blue shirt.  

“George is an artist, and an aspiring architect, with a penchant for poetry and an insatiable appetite. Give it up for George, everybody!”

After a lukewarm auction, which ended with George being bought for 65 bucks, the next one was sold. And the next one. Pretty soon, it was Eddie's turn. He stepped forward, and whispers began to float around you. You expected that, to some extent, but there were woops, and even a wolf whistle too. Ever the showman, he bent into a low bow, straightened back up, and winked at the audience. 

“And last, but not least, we have a handsome young man up for your bidding pleasure. Put your hands together for Eddie!” 

As he did a turn on the spot, hands outstretched, the rouse of applause went on for longer than you thought it would. Enthusiastic hands clapped for your man.

No. Your friend. Just a friend. 

“That's it, that's what we're looking for! Eddie is a mechanic, and a talented guitarist, who is looking for your company tonight! So, starting bid, can I hear twenty dollars?” 

“Here! Twenty dollars!” An old lady waved her programme enthusiastically in the air. Eddie's eyes rolled and caught yours momentarily, and you flashed a smile at him. 

“There we go, twenty! Can we go to twenty five?” 

“Thirty!” an equally old lady shouted, earning you yet another look from him that made you laugh. 

“Fifty dollars!” 

The crowd went silent as a man in the back shot his hand in the air. 

“Woah, a high bidder! Anyone want to beat fifty?” 

Before the crowd had a chance to recuperate a young and extremely pretty woman's hand shot upward. 

“One hundred dollars!” 

Everyone fell silent. The only thing not getting the message was your heartbeat. The beautifully manicured and delicate hand belonged to none other than Chrissy fucking Cunningham. 

She looked more beautiful than ever. Hawkins’s sweetheart, all grown up. The popular girl, the pretty girl. Prettier than you, at least to your mind. Prom queen, beauty pageant winner, and the icing on the cake? Actually a nice person. No one could hate her, it would be like kicking a kitten. 

But as your heart dropped like a lead weight into your chest, you thought you wouldn't mind seeing a bit of fur flying across the room, guided by your heels. 

You saw it, you couldn't fail to. The sudden way Eddie stood a little straighter, chest puffed up a little more, as a slow smirk crawled over his face. 

“One hundred? Wowee! Thank you young lady! Anyone for one twenty?” 

The man at the back called out, “right here!” 

Chrissy giggled, small hand held up covering the cute noise, and made another bid. 

“One thirty!” 

It seemed like the entirety of your body's blood had rushed to your head. You felt dizzy and sick, watching this happen, like some slow motion car crash. Again, your damned back hurt. you rubbed it in vain, and gazed back at the ruin in front of you.  

“One fifty!” The man at the back bellowed. Eddie's eyes widened, and he put his hands together, as if in prayer. His gaze was begging, pleading, and directed at Chrissy. 

The frozen spell you seemed to have been under lifted suddenly. This was not going to happen, you wouldn't let it. Chrissy had everything she could possibly need, she didn't need more. She couldn't have him. 

He's yours. 

Through watery eyes, you fiercely trawled through your purse, and came across the little envelope you tucked in there earlier. The money you had scraped together to go towards buying a car. You'd almost forgotten it, intending to drop it home before you came here. 

It looked like you'd have to be a pedestrian for a while longer. 

At the same time Chrissy placed delicate fingers in the air, your whole arm shot up, purse clutched in hand. 

“Two hundred and fifty two dollars and thirty nine cents!” 

Gasps and grunts from the crowd echoed throughout the hall as everyone turned to face you. Even Eddie's jaw hit the floor. It took a moment for it to register, but when it did people were cheering. 

“Well, I think that wraps it up folks! The highest bid of the night, sold to the very eager young lady in red right over here! What a great donation!”

He continued talking, wrapping up the show, and signalled for the music to start once again. Blood was hammering in your ears, making you almost oblivious to everyone around you. All you could focus on in your tunnel vision was Eddie as he walked to the edge of the stage, climbed off in a smooth hop, and started sauntering toward you. 

“You know, if you wanted me that badly you could have just asked, sweetheart.” He said, as he flashed you a smug grin. 

“Hey, I was just saving you from that guy over there, pretty sure he wanted more than a date.” Your words came out calmer than you thought you were capable of as you clenched a fist at your side to hide your shakes. 

“Oh, really?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest, “That's what you were saving me from, huh?” 

He knew it was a lie. You knew it was a lie. You're pretty sure the entire hall knew it was a lie. 

“Of course, don't want some old geezer putting his hands all over you. Not a fun Valentines. Plus, I own you now. You've gotta do what I say.” 

Your hands dropped to your hips, holding them as you smiled at him. 

“Kinky,” he replied, stepping closer, making you falter in your confident stance as you’re forced to look up at him, “so, what are your orders, princess?” 

“Can you, get me a drink. A proper drink, from the bar? Please?” 

Taking your hand in both of his, he brought it up to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to it that turned your insides upside down. 

“Easy. Your wish is my command. Jack and Coke, right?” 

Gormlessly nodding, all you managed to say was a stunted “uh huh.”

He flashed that grin again, and bounced off with more of a spring in his step than usual. 

You turned on your heel, begging yourself to get your head together, and busied yourself with gathering the donations for the auction, including your hefty one, and passed the cash to your mom to be locked away. When you approached, she opened her mouth but you wildly waved a finger at her. 

“I know, I don't want to hear it. Not right now.” 

She smiled, and just said, “pretty sure you could have got that date for free.” 

Rolling your eyes and simultaneously rubbing your back, you passed over the cash and turned quickly, nearly slamming into someone. 

“Easy princess, I know you bought me but I won't stand for full on tackling.” 

He was holding your drink high, arms up to protect it.

“Sorry Eds, just escaping from-” 

You looked over your shoulder, but your mom had disappeared. 

“-nevermind. Thank you.” 

As you grabbed your drink you took a generous gulp in a vain attempt to steady your nerves. 

“So, now you have me, what are you gonna do to me?” 

As he guided a wolfish grin to you, you simply rolled your eyes, trying to hide the fact that several unsavoury thoughts were swimming through your mind. 

“What if I told you to hop on one leg and bark like a dog, huh?” You replied, sending a grin right back. 

“Oh you don't think I would? Don't test me princess.” 

You simply folded your arms and cocked your head, daring him with a look. Eddie nodded, and started fucking bouncing on one leg. 

“Woof! Woo-” 

“OK OK stop you weirdo!” Gasping a laugh, you grabbed him by the crook of his elbow and dragged him away from the curious stares of those around you. 

As the song changed to a slow ballad, Eddie whipped the drink from your hand despite your protests and placed it on a nearby table. 

“What are you doing?” 

Grasping your hand he escorted you to the middle of the dance floor and suddenly pulled you so close that the air expelled from your lungs. There was no air, just music, and feeling, and Eddie. 

“I'm dancing with you. Isn't this what you do on dates?” 

As he held your hips, thumbs rubbing into your sides, your mind cleared. Like a bubble of smoke had popped. This felt good. This felt right. You circled his neck within your arms and relaxed for the first time that evening.  

“This isn't a date, Eds.” 

Your words held some spite, but it was belied by the smirk tugging at your cheeks. 

“You are right. This isn't a date. If it was, well, we wouldn't be surrounded by geriatrics.” he nodded at the crowd around you, eliciting a high pitched giggle from your chest. 

As you swayed in step with him, gazing into his chocolate eyes, the smirk only grew, fuelled by the mischief in his eyes. 

“So, if this was a date, what would we be doing instead?” 

A part of you wants to feel bashful and turn away, but the spell his eyes have you under is in control. No force on earth could tear your gaze asunder. The couples around you could burst into flames and be chalked up to little more than background noise. 

“Well, first, I would have picked you up at your house, bought you some flowers too,” he said as he brought his hand to yours, holding it and pushing you into his frame even more, so you strained your neck up to him. His breath fanned delicately against your ear as he continued his explanation. 

“Probably took you to a fancy restaurant, with fabric napkins,” he said, making you giggle at his understanding of ‘fancy’, “would have paid too. Maybe had some wine. Shared a dessert.” 

“Yeah?” You nearly whisper it, words falling into the exposed skin of his neck. 

“Yeah. Then, I would have taken you back to my place, offered you a cup of coffee,” suddenly he spun you, pressing his lithe front to your waiting back, his fingers scooping the hair from your neck sending comet trails of sensation down your spine. He continued, words making your head dizzy, “Then, I would kiss you, properly. Like you deserve to be kissed.” 

As he spun you back to face him, you held his gaze for a moment, seeing every ounce of honesty etched into those big brown eyes. 

“Eddie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Let's get out of here.” 

You shake your head, bringing yourself back to the here and now. Here you sit, opposite Eddie, invaded by his scent, debating whether or not to just tell the truth and hang the consequences. 

Taking a gulp of your drink, you set it back down and look Eddie in the eye. 

“Listen, I'm gonna be honest. I saw the way you looked at Chrissy and I… I was jealous. I didn't think, I just kinda acted. I'm sorry if it was weird.” 

Bravery fleeing your bones leaving behind an airy wobble, you look at your own lap, fingers twisting over and over. You're only slightly aware of the shuffle and rustle of Eddie rising to his feet, of footsteps, of the dip in the couch next to you. Then, Eddie's large hand comes to rest over both of yours. 

“Do you know why, sweetheart? Why were you jealous?” 

His hand is steady, fingers stilling your movements confidently, but there's a quaver to his voice that seems entirely unlike him. Grasping his fingers, you absentmindedly play with his heavy rings. 

“I feel stupid. I've had… kind of a crush on you, since high school.”

Of all the reactions, you hadn't expected a deep laugh to reverberate from his chest. Recoiling in horror, you shift your hands away from his and move to stand, your only thought to run, flee. 

“No no no, please, sit,” he asks, hands grasping at your waist to keep you there, as you rub at the twinge in your back again. 

“Turn around,” he says, and you don't find it in you to disobey. Firm hands stroke softly down your back, “you've been rubbing your back all night. Right here?” 

Fingertips circle the spot that's been aching and you nod, confused.

“Eddie, if this is a rejection, it's a really odd one- oh fuck, right there.” 

He chuckles lowly, knuckles working at the knot near your spine. 

“It's not, it's really not. You're in pain, and I know you'd never ask. Plus, I, ha, don't have the balls to say this to your face.” 

You don't say anything in response, you can't. Of course he's noticed you're in pain, he always notices stuff like that. The fact that this isn't a rejection though? It has your head reeling with so many thoughts that you can't express the words. Eddie clears his throat, hands rubbing into your skin through your dress, easing some of the building anxiety. 

“I've got a secret. I've- had a crush, on you, since middle school.” 

“Shut up!” You gasp, mouth hanging open at his confession. 

“Absolutely not.” 

“You didn't even know me in middle school Eds.”

“Yeah I did. Well, sorta. You remember that day I ran into the library? I asked for help?” 

You pick at the scab of a memory, itching it to the forefront of your brain. 

“Oh yeah, you were running from that idiot... Johnny?”

“Jimmy Salinsky. He was gonna beat on me. You, you didn't hesitate. You didn't even know me, but you told me to hide under your chair, you even threw your coat over your lap to hide me.” 

“What else would I do?” 

He snorted derisively, continuing his impromptu massage, “ignore me, tell me to fuck off, just like anybody else. But you, no, you didn't. Jimmy ran in looking for me and you didn't even lie! He asked if a freak had run in and you-” 

“-I said ‘the only freak in here is you’, I remember.” 

“That's right!” He laughs, squeezing your hips appreciatively, “Then he asked if you'd seen the poor kid, Eddie. You said, ‘I've never even met an Eddie’, which was true too. Not like I introduced myself before I dived under your chair. I remember crouching there, trying not to laugh, watching your little legs swinging. You had odd socks on, and you smelled really good. Anyway, I crushed on you hard.” 

Head buzzing over his words, you try to organise your thoughts. 

“Did the guys- did Hellfire know?” 

“Sweetheart, I'm surprised you didn't know, it was common knowledge. I just thought you never liked me like that.” 

Turning to face him again, you stroke hesitant fingers over his knee. 

“Didn't say anything, you were seeing Stacey.” Eddie's face screws in confusion until clarity rings like a bell in his mind. 

“Her? I wasn’t- that wasn't a relationship. I would have stopped in a fucking heartbeat if I'd known.” 

“Oh. I dated Tom to get over you.” 

“I dated Wendy to get over you!” 

Sharing a laugh, you both hold eye contact, giggles dying at the realisation of what this means. 

“So, Eddie, about that kiss…” you inch forward, ever so slightly nearer to him. A pink tongue darts out of his mouth, wetting his bottom lip. 

“Yeah, that. That was me, running my mouth,” he says, anxiety wracking his voice as he strokes his neck compulsively, “Not that I don't want to kiss you, I do, just, erm, don't expect fireworks?” 

It's almost like he's back at middle school, the nerves radiating off of him. Smiling sweetly, you take his hand and place it on your jaw, leaning into its touch. The breath he exudes is shaky as he moves closer, eyes darting to your lips as yours flutter shut. 

It's tentative; a brush of his mouth as if he's scared of you running, of some practical joke. When you make no move to pull away his thumb strokes your cheek, lips now moving more confidently against yours. Your heartbeat is echoing inside your head as your hand slips to slither down his chest and around him, circling his side. 

Only then does his tongue slowly snake out to wet your bottom lip; a silent plea which you happily grant. Still, it's delicate, tongues moving leisurely against one another as if you have all the time in the world. It's by no means dispassionate; far from it, it may be the most emotionally  charged kiss of your life, but it feels like he's holding back. 

So, you pull him closer by the front of his shirt, flicking your leg over his knee as your fingers tug hard. It's then that his tongue licks into you in earnest, thick and smooth, filling your insides with need. Just when you feel utterly consumed, whining inside his mouth, he breaks away. After a few pecks to your lips, he presses his forehead to yours, breath uneven, cooling your swollen lips. 

“I'm in love with you.” 

It comes out of his mouth in a rush. All you can do is stare gormlessly. 

“Huh?” 

“I love you. I just needed you to know that. This isn't just a- a thing. I'm in love with you, I have been since forever. I know it's a lot to take in, and I don't expect you to say it back I just need you to-”

You shut him up, pressing a hard kiss to his parted lips.

“Eddie, you lied.” 

“What? I'm telling the truth I-”

“You said don't expect fireworks. You were wrong.” 

Wasting no more time, you force your body onto him, tongue clashing against his teeth as the force of your kiss presses him backwards. His head makes contact with the arm of the couch, hands hot and heavy on your hips, pushing you into his bulge. 

The fabric of your dress is constricting your movements, making you huff into his mouth. 

“Eddie,” you manage in between spit slicked kisses, “unzip me.” 

There's a cross between a grunt and a moan that vibrates from him into you as his hand wanders across your back, groping its way to the zipper. In a few short bursts he manages to unzip it, not once breaking the kiss. 

Cool air hits your skin and you stand up, shimmying the dress to the floor and you straddle him moving in for- 

“Woah, slow down a second, just, just wait.” 

You try to kiss him again but he pushes you back, your ass flush against his crotch as you sit up. His gaze is scrutinising, examining every inch of your form, making you feel more exposed than you've ever felt in your life. 

The desperate urge to shy away works into your arms as you cross them over your chest, but Eddie's having none of it. He tugs at them gently, pulling them to your sides as his thumbs rub encouragement into your skin. 

“Sweetheart, there's a thirteen year old boy doing backflips in my head. Let him have a moment.” 

A little laugh you let out comes out as a snort whilst he gazes up at you in wonder. So, you give him a show, flicking your bra undone in one practised movement and sliding the straps down your arms, eventually letting it fall to the floor. 

“Jesus H Christ and all the angels.” He breathes, grip tightening on your forearms. 

A quivering hand reaches up, and to your surprise, cups your face. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Eyes suddenly watering, you blink twice to will the onslaught of emotion away. 

“Not like Chrissy though,” you shrug, eyes downturned. 

“No, you're not like her. You're beautiful, like you.” 

Tugging you forward, he pulls you in for a breathtaking kiss, the full force of his feelings overflowing and filling your heart with heat. With a nibble to your bottom lip, he lets up for a second. 

“Can we go to my bedroom?” 

Nodding, you clamber off him and stand up. Eddie just makes a noise like you knocked the wind out of him, holding his hand to his heart. 

“What?” You ask, hands on your hips, like it was normal to be standing in front of him in just a pair of panties. 

“Don't look all stern like that, or I'm gonna bust in my pants,” he jokes, standing and crowding your back. 

The journey to the bedroom takes a while. Mostly because you can't keep your hands off of each other. He's grinning, giddy as a school boy, firm hands pressing into your sides, hips, ass. You respond in kind, nearly ripping his shirt in your efforts to remove it, only managing to unbutton the offensive material to expose his lean tattooed torso. 

Eventually, your spine hits Eddie's mattress, the soft furnishing welcoming you, begging you to sink in further. His touches are soft too, almost reverent in their delivery. He stands to remove his shirt and jeans, bulge prominent in his black trunks with little patterns on them. As he coaxes you further up the bed you squint and realise what they are. 

“Eds… are you wearing Star Wars underwear?” 

He chuckles, following your eyeline. “They are Darth Vader pants, to be specific, very manly.” 

The smile you flash him almost hurts your cheeks, the situation feeling so close to normal. Normal adjacent at least. 

“Yeah, very manly. Almost caveman like.” 

“Look, I didn't think I'd have a hot girl watching me undress tonight, let alone the woman of my dreams. Just forget the nerd pants.” 

You're laughing now, even when he's grabbing a pillow and getting you to lay on top of it, positioning you just where he wants you. Your giggles stop however, when he asks a question that steals your breath away. 

“Do I need to put a towel down?” 

“That's very presumptuous of you.” You smile, batting your eyelashes at him. 

“Look, I'm just asking. I don't mind sleeping in a wet patch I just want you to be comfortable.” 

He hovers over you, lips pressed into a line of concern. pressing your mouth to his to will the tightness away, you whisper into his face. 

“You want me to stay?” 

“Sweetheart, I'd ask you to move in tomorrow.” 

The next kiss is a searing heat, all heaving tongue and grinding hips. His hand winds into your hair, tilting your head to get you just where he wants you. No longer the blushing boy, he's the confident man, taking just what he needs and giving you what you crave. It's fire, it's want, it's everything. 

“Eds?” You murmur into his mouth as your hips chase his form. 

“Hmm?”

“Get the towel.” 

Hopping off of you, he practically skips out of the room, leaving you to debate whether or not to take your panties off. As you finally decide to strip them, fingers wedged into the fabric, he returns. 

“Nope, just wait, please?” He asks, propping you up with ease to lay the towel down under you. So, you let go, allowing your arms to fall to your sides.

“Lemme look after you,” he says, climbing on top of you to plant open mouthed kisses to your neck. You nod, gasping when his teeth graze a sensitive spot on your neck. Short nails dig into his back as you whimper at the contact. 

“Right there princess, hmm?” He chuckles, mouthing at your neck. 

“Uh huh- oh fuck,” as he bites softly, tongue flicking out to lather at the spot. 

Moving down, his lips press to your collarbone, then down your chest, until he places a peck to your nipple. 

“I've been dreaming about these tits, but nothing can compare to the real thing,” his tongue darts out, swirling around the pebbled nub, sending goosebumps over your skin, “fuckin’ flawless sweetheart.” 

You want to say a smart remark, shaking your head, but all thoughts fly out the window when he sucks, rough fingers reaching out to rub the other. Back arching, your legs clamp on his little waist, saying their own prayer to keep him there. 

As he releases his mouth with a wet noise, the thoughts flood back, all barriers forgotten. 

“I've been thinking about you too, what you'd do, what it looks like,” you admit, truths flying free in the heat of the moment. 

“Yeah?” He smiles up at you, “been thinking about my dick?” 

“Yeah, how'd it feel in my mouth, how'd it feel inside me,” you breathe out as he continues his worship of you, tonguing and kissing at your tummy. 

“Fuck,” he says, hot air fanning over his wet string of loving kisses, “you're gonna kill me, saying shit like that.” 

“Don't die, I'll never find out,” you joke, breathing unsteady as he falls between your thighs, playfully nipping at the sensitive flesh. 

“Oh we wouldn't want that. How else could you know what this feels like?” 

Lifting your head, he locks eyes with you as he licks thickly over your clothed clit, pressing hard. 

“Oh Eddie, yes,” you wail, wriggling under his touch. 

He merely smiles in response, hooking rough fingertips into the waistband of your panties and pulling them down almost torturously slowly. They stick between your legs so much that your cheeks flush. Eddie doesn't seem to mind in the slightest, working them off your feet and tossing them on his bedside table. You briefly wonder if you're going to get them back, but then his lips are sucking at the soft skin on your ankle and you stop caring. 

Up, up, up he moves, showing each patch of skin just the same amount of love, until he reaches the crease where your thigh meets, tongue rippling over it. You huff in frustration, hips wiggling. 

“I'm getting to it sweetheart,” he says, pressing a kiss to your mound, “I wanna savour this.”

Words of protest dissipate when he laps at you, rooting out your clit without a moment's hesitation. Any clandestine thoughts you had about this very moment are nothing compared to this. To the feel of Eddie sucking at your clit, his pillowy lips wrapped around it. To the sudden roughness of his fingers as they graze your entrance. To the breach of one, slipping deep inside of you, immediately seeking out your sweet spot. 

“Eddie, ri-right there, oh God!” 

He moans into you, vibrations tickling you in the most delicious way. It's an amazing feeling, but you can't help but think about the noises you're making. Maybe they're pathetic, and not what he's used to?  You bet he's heard some beautiful moans in his time. Some pretty blonde things with long legs and big tits. Girls who know what they're doing. Oh God, what if you start feeling him up and he laughs at you? What if- 

“Hey, sweetheart, you here?” 

He gazes up at you between your legs, eyes boring into you with the question. 

“Sorry, so sorry, I'm here I-” 

“Hey. Don't apologise. You in your head?” He asks, head resting on your thigh, “you know we don't have to do this right now.”

“No, no I want to, honest, it's just- I dunno, second guessing myself? I'm just thinking about-” 

“See? That's the problem. Stop thinking. Lie back and enjoy it. Just, get out of your head. No place I'd rather be.” 

His brown eyes are wide, wet with honesty. He was never able to hide his real emotions, at least not with you. 

“OK, I'm so- I'll enjoy it.”

“That's it. Close your eyes princess, and just feel.” 

Eyes fluttering shut, you concentrate on the feel. Of his lips, suckling softly at your clit, tongue running around the hood. Then, fingers slipping inside once again, curling within you. Moans slither out of your hoarse throat as your hips roll up to meet his lips. 

“That's it, so good for me,” he mumbles into you, “doing such a good job. You sound so sweet.” 

Sweet. You sound sweet. 

In that instant, all your hang ups begin to melt away. The pleasure he's giving you is hitting just right, making you forget all your worries. Pressure builds in your tummy; a whirling, winding force hitting you from the inside out. You're squirming, but it's as if someone outside of you is letting you know. It must be Eddie's firm palm, the one that presses into your abdomen, keeping you steady. Keeping you here, in this moment. 

There's no rush. Time loses all meaning. He could be between your thighs for minutes, hours, days. All you know is the ball of desire tightening within you is fit to burst, bubbling over in a melting pot of raw emotion. 

“Eddie, I'm so close, s-so close!” 

He doesn't falter, doesn't deviate in his ministrations. He continues, tongue circling, fingers curling so deep inside you think you can see God. A swirling, cloying heat encapsulates you, winding around that feeling you buried in your heartstrings and tugging it loose. That deep emotion you pushed aside years ago, a healed splinter, set free by the love and care he's pouring out of his flowing tongue.

It reaches its crescendo, vision darkening as every nerve is coddled with an inner fire. You're not even sure what you feel; release, blinding pleasure, pure love? It could be all three as you cry out, fingers tugging at Eddie's hair. 

He rides it out with you, fingers coaxing your orgasm to the very brink and beyond until you flop back into the bed. 

The first clue you have that something different just happened is the wet feeling underneath your ass. It feels damp, and cold? Opening your eyes, you haul yourself onto your elbows to look down. 

“Now are you glad I said about the towel?” 

Never have you seen so much of your own release coated on a man. It's covering his mouth, chin, cheeks, hand. You briefly wonder at how it could have happened, how that much could have come out of you. 

Eddie wipes his mouth and hand on the towel underneath and makes his way to hover over your heaving form, eyes practically shooting hearts at you from deep within.

“You alright princess? We can stop right now if it's too much.” 

Blindly you reach out, clumsy fingers rubbing at the hard swelling of his member inside his underwear. 

“Don't you want me to return the favour?” You ask, confused. 

“Sweetheart, one kiss of those pretty lips on my dick and I'll be done for.” 

“Then- I'm on birth control. Fuck me, please.” 

The groan that he lets out is deep and guttural, moving his limbs for him. He gets up to whip his pants down and you see it for the first time. You see him. 

It's big. Fuck, its the biggest you’ve seen; not just long but thick, even thicker than your fumblings thought. A glint of silver throws you for a loop, almost making you think you imagine it, but there it is again. 

“Holy shit, Eddie- are you, pierced??” 

“Oh yeah,” he chuckles, glancing down to follow your eye line, “you didn't know about that huh.” 

He climbs on top of you, kissing as he goes, plush lips on your skin. Soft, delicate, and warm. Guiding his hardness to your opening, you can't help but rub your thumb over the tip, pre cum slipping on the balls of the piercing. Eddie's breath stutters, nearly panting in your mouth as you smirk. 

“Now that's not fair sweetheart.” 

You continue to smile, gathering your slick to slide him in, but it quickly turns into a wince. 

“Fuck, Eddie, you're too big,” you whimper out as your eyes screw shut. 

“You're fuckin’ flattering me princess.” 

“I'm not, seriously, you're- oh goddamn-” 

He's pushing into you, slowly, but it still burns, the sheer stretch at his girth almost too much. Gnawing at your lips, tears well in your eyes. 

Eddie looks shocked, taken aback by your reaction. 

“Really? Fuck, OK sweetheart, you're OK. Look at me, you can take it, yeah?” 

Trust Eddie to say the hottest thing by accident. He's just trying to check in, but by God it sets your insides on fire. 

“I-I'll try.”

“That's it, atta girl, little more.” 

Reaching down to where you're joined, you wrap your hand loosely around the base, realising he's only halfway in. 

“Eddie, jeez you could- oooh- you could have f-fucking warned me, ah!” 

“Just relax, I've got you princess, you're taking it so well, you can take the rest- oh Jesus H Christ you're tight.”  

A long drawn out cry echoes out of you as he bottoms out, tears loose and running down your temples. He's leaning on his elbows, fingers stroking at your hair, leaving snowflake kisses on your cheeks. 

“Uh- mmmph- Eddie, you've got a pornstar dick.” 

Gritting his teeth, he looks at you almost sternly.

“You can't say that or I'll cum right now, please.” 

Eyes softening, you kiss his lips instead. He envelops you, tongue dancing in your mouth making you forget the dull ache. Nothing can make you forget how full you feel however, your pussy quivering uncontrollably around him even though he's not moving. 

“This is so nice,” he says, entwining his fingers with yours over your head. 

“Eddie, you're literally balls deep in me and it's ‘nice’?” 

Laughing so hard you feel it in your chest, he kisses you again. 

“Sorry, I mean, just being this close with you. It's everything I've ever wanted.” 

Lips quivering, you stare at him, eyes wide and wet. 

“Eddie, I lo-” 

“No, don't. Not like this. Just- can I move?” 

You nod, biting back the words, and he slowly rolls his hips. Eyes nearly hitting the back of your skull, you moan, meeting his movements. He's so deep, it's like he's everywhere. Every pore, every capillary, pulsing with him. 

“Oh my God, baby, oh God!” 

You're rambling words but it doesn't seem to matter, mind filled with fog, with feeling. With him. He links one arm under the fat of your thigh, coaxing you to curl it around him, and everything seems to fall into place all at once. Each rolling movement is pressing into that sweet spot inside of you, that spot he seems to find so easily like a gravitational pull. He smiles, panting in tandem. 

“Right there princess?” 

Nodding like a puppet on a string, he lets out a long groan. 

“Good, I-I’m not gonna last, you feel too fuckin’ good.” 

Pleased at his reaction, you link one arm around him, stroking at the taut skin of his back as he drives into you harder. Grunting with each thrust, he's tensing, holding back. 

“You can come, Eddie,” you say shakily. 

“Not before you sweetheart,” he replies, doubling down on his efforts. 

It all feels so intense, each whirl of feeling sinking deep into your bones and fanning the flames of your heart and desire. 

“Eddie, s-so close, come with me, please.” 

Almost as soon as you say the words your climax springs out, overflowing with every emotion he won't let you say. It fizzes through your nerves, throbbing with each beat of your pulse. 

Eddie groans, releasing at the same time, two bodies with one heart. As you both relax, melding together, you giggle at the same time. A laugh of relief, of pure happiness. 

“Sorry, thought I'd last a little longer.” 

He seems embarrassed, lifting his head enough to look you in the eye. 

“Eddie, that was perfect.” 

He snuggles his head deep in your neck, inhaling your scent as if it were the last time. 

“I'm gonna get you cleaned up, hang on.”

Lifting his head once more, he kisses, and kisses, lips moving against you with pure feeling. 

“OK, now I'm really gonna go.” 

You giggle as he just keeps kissing you, staring up at him with each unspoken word swimming in your mind. 

“Right, now, just hang on.” 

With a final peck, he slips out of you, returning with a warm cloth. Not used to this affection you merely lay there, allowing him, and wriggle out of the way when he takes away the towel. When you move, you see there's still a wet patch, but it's been mitigated at least somewhat. 

“I can change the sheets if you want-” 

“Eddie, I don't care, just hold me.” 

Grinning like a boy he climbs back into bed, pulling blankets over the both of you. Fitting together like you were always supposed to, you sigh with relief. 

“Eddie? Can I say it now?” 

You whisper it into his chest as he holds you close, almost afraid of breaking the spell of the evening. 

“That depends sweetheart,” he says, fingers tracing unknown patterns on the skin of your arm, “you have to mean it. I couldn't take it if you didn't mean it.” 

“I mean it. I love you Eddie, I think I always have.” 

The smile in his voice makes you smile too.

“I love you too. Happy Valentine's Day."

Taglist

@liminalpebble @eddies-puppet @rip-quizilla @micheledawn1975 @vanilla-demon @millercontracting @roanniom @josephquinnsfreckles @leelei1980 @mrsjellymunson @usedtobecooler @eddiesprincess86 @ali-r3n @choke-me-eddie @littlebebebunny @big-ope-vibes

[authorhjk1]

How would RV as cheerleaders motivate you or rather drain your energy even more after a tiring hard fought game?

Guessing anon.

Irene

Some of your teammates have smug grins on their faces as they watch Irene walk through the locker room. Most of them are still naked, while they change, but Irene doesn't look at any of them. She walks over to the showers and finally her cold face lights up with a smile.

"Hi, baby."

She kisses you and you pull her closer against your naked and wet body. Standing behind the wall, your teammates can't see you two. And they know better than to try and catch a glimpse of Irene.

"You won again. You're amazing."

Her smile makes you smile back, before you kiss her lips.

"And you're in for a treat."

You watch her lift the skirt of her uniform.

"Because this pussy is only for winners."

Seulgi

"Damn, Seulgi."

You sigh as you lean against the wall.

Seulgi is on her knees, sucking you off.

The two of you ran into each other after the game. She congratulated you, you told her she was amazing.... One thing let to another and here you are now.

You can't help but let your fingers glide through the silk ribbon in her hair as she quickens the pace a little. Seulgi isn't completely quiet, while she gives you your reward. The otherwise empty hallway lets a gag or a moan bounce off its brick walls. You know it's risky, but from the moment Seulgi sank to her knees, you've become almost brain dead. Except for a groan here and there, you can only take what she gives you. You have to endure this pleasurable torture, until Seulgi finally drains you.

Wendy

"What do you think you're doing?"

Wendy's hushed voice and her wide open eyes tell you that you almost caught her doing something, which no one should've seen.

"What? Everyone is gone and you're still not changed. Remember our bet? Ice cream, if I score a goal."

Wendy roles her eyes.

"You know I'm low on cash."

"So? A bet is a bet."

Only now do you notice that Wendy at least started to change. Her panties are lying next to her on the bench. She must have caught you glance, because now she is rolling her eyes.

"This is the last time we're doing this."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't play innocent. Since I'm not paying for ice cream, I'll let you cum on me again. But don't make such a mess like last time."

"Alright, alright."

You watch her take off her top and you walk closer. Wendy gets on her knees and places her hands behind her back, presenting you her nude upper body. You reach into your shorts and start to stroke yourself as you stare at her.

Joy

Joy doesn't seem to care at all. You could tell that she wanted you, after she watched you doing your best for the last hours. And now she doesn't look at anyone but you as she walks into the locker room. Your teammates look at her and you can't blame them. You still can't believe how a woman like her is attracted to someone like you. But she is. Which she is now proving by straddling your lap, while everyone watches.

"I hope you left some strength just for me."

You feel her bare pussy rub against your cock, before she lowers herself onto you. Her skirt hides the action from your teammates, but they all know what is happening, when Joy lets out a deep moan.

You place your hands on her naked waist. Your teammates try to ignore the two of you as Joy slowly begins to ride you. Right there. In the middle of the locker room.

Yeri

You sigh in annoyance. Your whole body hurts. Especially after that last tackle. And yet, Yeri has climbed on top of you and is now taking her sweet time moving up and down on your cock.

"Can't this wait?"

Yeri shakes her head.

"You know I have thing for quarterbacks. Plus, if anyone from my school finds out I'm riding the other team's QB, I'm dead."

"I get that, but-"

"Shut up and put your tongue in my mouth."

Yeri captures your lips with hers as she keeps riding you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello hello! I dunno if you’re taking request but I was thinking if you can write smth silly about reader pulling the “Fellas grab your ladies if your lady fine” trend on Ford :3

You didn’t know how you had gotten put in this predicament where you were standing behind Ford, all the while Mabel was hiding behind the doorway -phone in hand- as she gestured for you to grab Ford by his waist and pull him in close.

Oh wait you did know exactly how you had gotten in this because Mabel came up to you that very same morning, phone in her hand as though it was super glued there, as she shown you this trend couples were doing for public validation and praise; and or to rub their relationship in the publics face.

‘What am I-‘

‘Just watch.’ Mabel exclaimed as she pointed to her phone that she had shoved under your face just as the man grabbed his girlfriend by the waist and pull her in close in tandem with the lyrics; ‘fellas grab your ladies if your ladies fine.’ Just as the video ends and goes back to the beginning.

‘And what was I meant to take away from that exactly?’ You questioned, not understanding the point of anything that was presented to you, especially so early in the morning where all you wanted to do was enjoy your morning drink without having to think so hard. However there’s never been a quiet morning in the Pines household in the history of forever, and each time a member of the Pines Family was usually the source of the unrest.

Ford trying to catch his anomalies that somehow snuck into your room

Stan loudly complaining about his aging body while burning the pancakes because he wasn’t paying attention to it.

Wendy’s loud ass snores. She’s always hanging out at the shack so often you might as well consider her apart of the family as well alongside Soos, Candy and Grenda.

Dipper being Dipper

And now Mabel with this supposedly popular couples trend. You couldn’t catch a break but you loved this family and Ford too much to care about how early it was for their shenanigans.

‘You and Ford should totally do the trend!’ Mable said as she beams at you. ‘The people would love a cute nerdy couple like you two!’

You chuckled as you ruffled the energetic girls’ hair affectingly. ‘I highly doubt your Grunkle Ford would want any part in it, he’s been in the lab all week on a recent discovery. What it is he wouldn’t tell me. He only ran into our room one day to scream THEY’RE PROCREATING and left for the lab.’

‘Please! Please! Please!’ Mabel cried as she clasped her hands together and gave you the cutest pair of puppy eyes ever as you felt your resolve crumble the longer you stared into your niece.

‘Fine.’ You playfully groaned as you allowed the young girl to drag you by your arm and lead you down into the lab where Ford was, only to shove you awkwardly close to Ford while she hide near the doorway, phone in hand.

‘Hello darling.’ Ford greeted without looking up from his work, he claims he could tell apart your footsteps from the rest of his family, but you just assumed that Stan or Dipper or Mabel kept coming down and Ford took the opportunity to learn how each of his family sounded when coming down the stairs through specific things they did.

‘Hello sweetheart.’ You greeted back as you could see Mabel practically on the brink of bursting into confetti with how hard she tried to contain her excitement.

‘Grab him by the waist.’ Mabel mouthed, her eyes becoming comedically large glittery stars. ‘Grab him by the waist!’

You looked back at Ford who was leaned over his desk, looking over his work throughly with his brows furrowed and his glasses slightly drooping off his nose. He looked handsome when he was concentrating but in your eyes Ford was always handsome even when he was explaining to you dungeons, dungeons and even more dungeons.

You looked back at Mabel who had her phone In front of her -most likely recording you- before you took a deep breath and brought your hand to Ford’s waist, quickly pulled him close to you so that his back rested against your chest. Poor Ford was a flustered mess, his cheeks were aflame, his eyes were wide and you could feel how stiff his body was against yours, you couldn’t help but smile at how cute he looked in the moment.

‘What’s the meaning behind this y/n.’ Ford asked as he tried to calm his excepted heart rate and regain composure.

You kissed his cheek before nuzzling it slightly. ‘Did you catch all that Mabel?’ You asked, much to Ford’s confusion. ‘Mabel?’

‘Yes! I caught all of that!’ She cried as she popped out from her hiding spot, ‘this is going on the family group chat!’ She adds as she bolts up the stairs giggling and squealing to herself at how cute you and her grunkle Ford were, leaving you and Ford alone.

‘Sorry sweetheart, her puppy eyes are my weakness.’ You confessed as you rested your head against his shoulder, still holding onto his waist and breathing in his scent that never failed to relive you and any and all stress. Ford chuckled as he moved his head to kiss the top of yours, smiling fondly at your weak spot for his grandniece and nephew. ‘It’s alright darling, just let me know next time before you do something so bold, my old heart can only take so many surprises.’ He joked as he rested his hand atop of your own, rubbing the back of it soothingly.

‘I promise.’ You mumbled softly against his shoulder. ‘But you did look cute all flustered, do you like being grabbed by the waist?’ You then asked, only to receive silence on Ford’s and, which made you life your head from his shoulder to see that he was cover the lower half of his face with his hand.

‘Cute.’ You thought yourself, you might do this more often if this is the response you get, it was a power trip you didn’t know you needed over your cute but extremely smart fordsy.

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

High Mile Club

Smut (Deep penetration, orgasm, turning into sex toy)

Chapter 11

3,210 Words 

(A bit of info on Wendy and future endeavors within the company. OC's new flight attendant, Kim Ji-Yoon (Kim, Jisoo's sister), becomes OC's new sex toy. OC goes to visit Jessica in San Francisco on his time off.)

It’s been a few weeks since Wendy offered you her virginity in exchange for leaving Irene alone. You gladly took the offer of deflowering another idol and even continued having sex after that one time. 

You stopped pursuing Irene for a while. Irene wondered what was going on at first but didn’t ask. It was better for her if you didn’t call her to satisfy your needs and thought that you might have found someone else to fill that role. This was better for her, and she didn't look into it much. Little did she realize that you were satisfied with your needs by one of her members. 

Wendy and her team members exit the room after going over their weekly emulation and head to the cafeteria. They continue to talk as they line up to scan their IDs when suddenly you feel someone bump into you. 

You turn around and see the newly debuted group Red Velvet with their food trays, “I’m sorry, I bumped into you.”

”It’s okay, don’t worry about it, Seulgi.”

Seulgi slightly bows and apologizes for not looking, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, it was an accident.” Seulgi smiles and bows once more.

You grab your food and find a table to have your meal. Out from afar, you see the Red Velvet members walking in your direction. They kindly smile as they pass you until you see Wendy at the end. You give her a soft grin, causing her to misstep and almost drop her food. “Oh, are you okay?” catching her and preventing her from falling. 

“Umm, yes. Thank you.”

”Be careful; we don’t want you getting hurt,” you say as you hold her hand. 

Wendy nods and tries to pull away when you say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

She freezes up and stares at her members, waving at her from the table. Wendy recalls the last session, making her remember the soreness she felt from getting her insides stretched.

————

During one of your meetings with the company executives, you feel a couple of text messages come in all at once. You secretly pull out your phone and see that you got a couple of messages from Jessica and open them up. 

“It must be early in the morning over there, but I wanted to tell you that I went to get an ultrasound taken. They said the baby is healthy and will probably know the gender during the next visit.” 

You scroll down and see Jessica sent you a picture of her ultrasound. Now, it feels real; you’re going to be a father. You stare at the photo for a couple of seconds, and then you see another message pop up: a photo of Jessica showing her baby bump. 

“I will be free in a few days, so I can visit you soon.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you then. It’s late over here, and I’m ready to go to sleep.”

”Goodnight, and I'll message you when I depart. .”

——

As you continue with your meeting, one of the executives mentions the importance of expanding into other areas within the entertainment industry, such as commercials and dealing with actors. 

You mentioned that you’ve also had the same idea and even considered setting up an acting label in the company. 

With some positive feedback from the rest of the executives, you all come to the conclusion of increasing your reach in the industry and increasing profits by creating an acting subdivision. 

“Do you have any suggestions on who to bring into the acting label?” asks one of the executives.

“I think it would be nice to get some that are already established in the industry and some new talent.”

”What about recruiting someone well-known like Park Min-young? She’s had a good amount of roles and is attractive?”

One of the executive’s assistants pulls up Park Min-young’s acting profile and puts it on the large screen. 

“She has a youthful face. How old is she?”

”She's 28 years old, sir.” 

“How many roles has she had so far?”

“About ten so far and one on the way.”

”Then we should look into recruiting her.”

”Will do, sir.” 

“Any other suggestions?”

Another executive mentions, “For fresh new faces, how about Shin Hye-sun or Moon Ga-young?

”Send me their profiles, and I will look into them.”

”Also an upcoming actress, Lee Hyeri.”

”Okay, send it to my office or through my assistants,” as you wrap up the meeting and prepare for lunch. 

———

Some of the trainees have noticed an increase in activity in the company's main building. For the past few days, they have seen blacked-out sedans and bodyguards in the main lobby.

”What do you think is going on?”

”Maybe investors?”

”Yeah, maybe.”

A sedan pulls up, and they see a bodyguard come out from the passenger door, then head to the rear door and open it. Out comes a woman dressed in a nice outfit. The bodyguard escorts the woman into the lobby and is greeted by one of the employees. 

“Hey, isn’t that the actress from that popular drama?”

”Oh, you’re right. What is she doing here?”

”Wait, do you think they might be recruiting actresses to the company?”

”That would be cool, maybe they might set up an acting division. I would be interested in joining if that’s the case.”

“Let’s go say hi.”

The two girls walk calmly towards the group gathered at the help desk. “Umm, do you happen to be the actress from ****?”

The actress softly nods before she is interrupted by one of the CEO's assistants, “Thank you for meeting with us. Let’s move on to one of our meeting rooms.” 

The two girls watch as the group heads to the hallway and press the elevator button. 

“See, I told you it was her.”

”You’re right; let's tell the others, they’re going to be excited!”

———

“Welcome aboard, sir.” 

“Thank you. How are you doing?”

”I’m doing well. Let me help you with your items.” 

Ji-yoon takes your bag and places it onto one of the seats. She helps adjust your chair and asks, “Would you like a drink before liftoff?”

”Just the usual.”

”Of course,” and walks to the minibar. You notice a difference in her outfit but can’t seem to get what it is. It isn’t until she bends over to fix her shoelace that you notice that her skirt is shorter than usual.

You can get a better view of her thighs and even a small glimpse of her red-laced panties. “Damn, she looks nice.”

Ji-yoon returns with your drink, “Here you go, sir.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Kim.”

”You’re welcome, but call me by my given name.”

”You sure?”

”Of course, we’re not strangers.”

”Okay. Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

”That’s better,” gives you a soft smile. “I’ll let the pilots know we're ready for takeoff.”

Ji-yoon exits the cockpit, comes towards you, “The pilots will be taking off shortly,” and grabs your seatbelt, fasting them.

She walks towards the seat before you and fastens her belt as the plane goes down the runway. 

The pilot announces that the plane is in taxi and ready to take off. The plane turns around, and you hear the engines getting louder. The pilot steps on the accelerator to the max, feeling the plane moving rapidly down the runway. 

Ji-yoon looks out the window, and you are surprised when you notice the sight of her laced panties. You ask yourself if this is an accident or if she is doing this on purpose, but don’t mind the nice view. 

It’s a few hours into your flight; you’ve been going over the profiles of potential actresses that you are interested in joining the company.

“Would you like another drink, or should I prepare the bed for you?”

“Another drink would be nice.” 

She goes off to the other side of the plane and brings your drink for you, “Here you go, sir.” 

“I thought you said to act informally with you, but you keep calling me sir.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Call me by my name instead.” 

Out of nowhere, the plane hits some turbulence, making Ji-yoon lose her balance and fall. Luckily, you get a hold of her, but she accidentally falls on your lap.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I spilled your drink all over you; let me clean it off.” 

As she tries to get off, the plane experiences another round of turbulence and falls back on your lap. The intercom turns on, and you hear the pilot say, “Sorry for the bumpy ride, folks. We hit an air pocket, and it seems like we are going to go through some rough patches in the next few minutes. Please remain seated, and I’ll give it all clear.” 

Ji-yoon looks at you embarrassed and says, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you all dirty, but now this. Let me get off of you, and I’ll clean you once it’s okay to move around.” 

She tries to get off of you, but you hold her back, “the pilot said to remain seated, remember.” 

“But I’m sitting on you; I’m heavy.”

“Not at all. I don’t mind; I prefer you to stay and not get hurt.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” as she positions herself better on your lap. Over the next few minutes, you both experience some turbulence, with Ji-yoon slightly grinding against your lower region. 

Ji-yoon feels embarrassed sitting on her boss's lap but, at the same time, doesn’t complain since she finds you attractive. She knows that these types of things come with the job, especially the turbulence. 

She positions herself better onto your lower region and feels your limp cock grinding against her ass. “He’s huge, it’s this big, and it’s not even hard. I’m curious how big it is.” 

Your cock begins to harden as Ji-yoon slowly grinds her ass on you. She turns her head towards you and see that she’s biting her lip. Realizing that she’s enjoying it, you grab her by the waist and press your cock closer to her ass. You then see her unbutton her jacket and takes it off, giving you a full view of her nape.

You get closer, allowing your breath to reach the back of her nape, causing her to shiver. As you are about to go in for a kiss, you hear a, ”We are all clear. You are all more than welcome to unfasten your seatbelts and move around. I appreciate your understanding.”

Ji-yoon spans back to reality and quickly gets off of you. She tries to apologize for her actions but notices the large bulge in your pants. She bites her lip and says, “I’m sorry for spilling your drink on you; let me clean that up.” 

You take off your dress shirt, revealing your build. She gasps and covers her mouth before going to the laboratory in the back of the plane. You follow her and see her scrubbing your shirt with soap and water, “It’s okay if you can’t get it off.”

”I just feel bad since it was my fault,” and she turns around, grazing her hand on your abs. 

“How about we call it a day? I’m getting kind of tired.”

”Of course, let me set up your room for you.”

After a few minutes, Ji-yoon sets up your private quarters and puts your sleepwear on the bed. 

Ji-yoon watches you change from across the plane. She notices you getting into getting completely nude and only putting on the shorts from the sleepwear she gave you. “Fuck, he’s huge.” She crosses her legs, “What are you thinking, Ji-Yoon? He’s your boss.” She pinches her arm to return to reality, but then she sees you pop out and ask, “Do you have a toothbrush? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

She watches as you walk out of your room and into the aisle and can’t help but look up and down at your body. 

“Y…yes. Let me check.” 

You lay on your bed, staring at the window for a few minutes, when you remember you left your phone in the laboratory. You slowly slide the door to your room and go to the laboratory when you see Ji-yoon inside. You see her stand in front of the mirror and notice her holding your shirt to her nose. Not wanting to make it awkward, you try to go back but meet her eyes.

She freaks out, drops your shirt, and opens the door to explain herself. “It isn’t what it looks like.” 

“Okay, I just came here to get my phone.” 

She looks back, sees your phone in one of the storage compartments, and hands it back to you. 

As she hands you her phone, you look down and see a thick but transparent substance running down her thighs. She looks down and is horrified, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It's just that I’ve been neglected, and what happened earlier excited me.” 

She covers her face with the sudden confession and tries to walk away, but you grab her hand, stopping her. “I get what you mean. How about having a little fun?” smirking. 

“What do you mean?” 

“How about we join the high mile club?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by the suggestion, but the idea of having sex on an airplane, especially while working and with her boss, is a total turn-on.

 She checks you out and bites her lip, letting you know her answer. You take the lead and head towards your room with a grin on your face.

After closing the door, you press her against the wall and go for a kiss. She reciprocates, giving you a sloppy kissing session. You undo her blouse and expose her white bra. Ji-yoon looks at you with hungry eyes, telling you to take her, and you do. 

You go in for her neck and begin kissing it, slowly moving towards her chest and leaving a slight trail. You hear her moan and undo her bra, dropping it on the floor as you cup her small breast between your hands. 

She gasps as you flick her nipples just before taking one into your mouth. “Ahh, fuck. That feels good.” 

With your mouth attached to her breast, you pick her against the wall. She wraps her legs around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your tongue flicking her nub. 

After a few minutes, you walk towards the bed and slowly place her down. She can’t wait to see what will happen next and undoes her skirt. 

“Fuck, you’re hot. I want to see what you have right there,” as you move towards her lower region. In one quick move, you remove her panties using your mouth and toss it across the room. 

During the next couple of minutes, prepping her for the main event. Ji-yoon breathes heavily as you eat out her shaven cunt, still anticipating for what’s to come. “Hmm, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

”You said your boyfriend has been neglecting you, right?”

”Yeah, he hasn’t touched me in a while. He’s been so busy with work that he doesn’t even have time to spend with me.”

”Let’s change that,” as you pull down your shorts.

Ji-yoon's mouth drops as she sees your massive length and asks herself if it’s going to fit. 

“How about we join that mile club?”

”Yeah, let's.”

You bring her to the edge of the beg and spread her legs open. Hold your cock in your hand and smack it against her cunt, coating it with her nectar. You press your cock against her lower lips and slowly move towards her. 

Ji-yoon watches as you spread her lips wide open, inserting your large cock inside her tight body. She grabs onto your arm and groans the deeper you go inside of her. “Fuck, you’re huge…”

With the outline of your cock inside Ji-yoon’s belly, you begin to thrust inside of her. You start off slowly, letting her get adjusted to your length before increasing the pace. Ji-yoon’s reaction shows that she’s enjoying it and plays with her small breasts. 

“Who’s bigger? Me or your boyfriend?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by your question, but the way your cock is hitting the right places and areas her boyfriend has never reached before, the answer was obvious, “You, you’re much bigger than my boyfriend. He can’t compare to you; he has a tiny cock.”

Satisfied by her response, you decide to reward her by fucking her in her deepest parts. You lift Ji-yoon’s legs up and place her in a mating press. She groans when you hit the end of her womb, a place untouched by her boyfriend.

“You like that?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re so tight. Has your boyfriend ever reached this deep?”

“N..no, he hasn’t, it’s my first time. It feels so good.” 

“Then let’s make this a great memory,” as you begin to thrust rough and rapidly.  

“Fuck, you’re reaching so deep inside of me, I’m feeling weird.”

”It’s normal, you’re about to cum.”

”I’ve never felt that way when I have sex with my boyfriend.”

”Fuck, your boyfriend. You’re with me.” 

Ji-Yoon is reaching her orgasm, trembling from the new experience. She’s just able to cum, when you stop and pull out, “Don’t please, I’m so close to cumming.” 

“Beg for it.”

”Please, let me cum. I’ll do anything.”

”Anything?”

”Yes, just let me cum, and I’ll do anything.”

”Then be my fuck toy, let me use you whenever I want.”

You tease her cunt by inserting your fingers and scraping her walls. She arches her back as you tease her by preventing her first orgasm. 

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be your fuck toy. Just let me cum, please!”

There’s no need for a response as you pull out your sloppy fingers and shove your cock back instead of her begging womb. Ji-Yoon screams from the sudden shock of getting her womb stabbed, “fuck!! I'm cumming!”

Ji-yoon's walls tighten around your cock, to the point of choking it. She spasms violently, wetting the bed covers from the excitement. 

With you reaching your own orgasm, you pull your cock and stand in front of Ji-Yoon, painting her face, breast and cunt completely white. “Do a peace sign for me” as you prepare to take a picture. 

Ji-Yoon sticks her tongue and makes a peace sign with her face covered in your baby batter. 

“Good morning, and welcome to San Francisco. Hope you had a good night's sleep, and thank you for flying with us, sir.”

You are looking at the view from the window and turning your head toward the aisle. You grab your phone and text Jessica on your arrival at the airport. Ji-Yoon pops your cock out of her mouth and smiles. “Thank you for the meal,” as she wipes bits of your load dripping from her mouth. 

“Come on, baby girl, clean yourself up; we’re already here.”

[queen-of-fanfics]

I Told You To Stay pt.2 (NSFW)

Pairing: Peter Pan x Reader

Prompt: After chasing you down, Peter catches you in the forest and things get ... spicy

A/N: Hi!! So, I know it's been a year since the first part, but I felt inspired, and I love that you guys enjoyed it! THERE IS A SPICY SCENE AT THE END OF THIS PART! I indicated it in case anyone doesn't want to read some nasty; you can skip it. :) I don't ever do NSFW scenes, but I felt like this needed it.

I Told You To Stay Pt. 1

What a compromising situation you found yourself in. Arms pinned above your head, held against a tree staring up into some very angry, yet worrying, eyes, you can’t help but want to laugh at your position. Figures, this is what you get for slipping out the window and running into the woods like hell hounds were nipping at your heels. But in all fairness, your actions were warranted. 

How else were you supposed to react when Peter brought you back to his secret cabin after spending a romantic night together and then suddenly, Wendy is at said so-called “secret cabin” calling him ‘baby’ and trying to rub up on him? Regardless of Peter’s denials, it’s hard to believe that truth when she was standing right in front of you.

“I thought I told you to stay,” Peter says in a threateningly calm voice. 

“Let me go, Peter.” You tried to keep your voice calm, trying to seem nonchalant. You kept your face passive, but there was a war of emotions inside of you. 

You felt hurt. Angry. Embarrassed. Betrayed. And as much as you were trying to suppress it, you felt …. yearning. Even through all this, your heart was still looking for him in the darkness. It skipped and leaped in happiness that he was here. That he came racing after you. That he came looking for you when Wendy was probably waiting for him back at the cabin. The thought of her cause a bite of anger to shoot through you.

“Go back to Wendy, Peter.” You clipped.

“I told you to stay.” His voice was deadly. Deadly to your nerves and deadly to your heart.

Squeezing your eyes shut and blowing out a breath of frustration, trying desperately to get a hold of your temper that you could feel rising. “Go back to your cabin, Peter. Let me go.”

“I told you to stay. All you had to do was stay.” He snarled right back as if you hadn’t said a word and he had the audacity to sound upset with you!

Your eyes shot open and in a burst of adrenaline, you yanked your hands free and shoved against his chest, blurting “Let me go! You lied! I trusted you! I trusted you when everyone else laughed at me and you lied to me!” Shock flashed in his face quickly before he was able to hide it. You have never lost your temper or shown an ounce of venom since you’ve arrived to Neverland. 

You pushed at his chest and tried to shove up off the tree to make your escape, but he wasn’t budging. Instead of stepping back to give you the space you desperately wanted, he stepped into you. Your hands pressed against his chest and your back pressed into the tree. Your bodies were flesh against each other now.

“I have never lied to you, Y/N.” 

Scoffing in disbelief, your rising temper spoke for you, “You said that you and Wendy weren’t together.”

“Again. I have never lied to you.” He growled. 

“Oh really?” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm. “It didn’t look that way to me. My mistake. It definitely didn’t look like she was cozy in your place and on your body. Peter, I don’t know what game you’re playing but I don’t want any part of it. It looks like Wendy is already in the picture so I don’t want any part of this!” 

“Y/N, would you please just listen to me. I’ll explain everything.”

“I’ve been asking you to explain! I’ve been asking for months and you’ve avoided giving me even an ounce of clarity and now is when you want to explain?! Now that I’ve seen things clearly with my own eyes? I’m supposed to have faith in my feelings towards you but I have to ignore the proof right in front of me? The pair of you are playing mother and father all over this island and I’m supposed to ignore that?!”

“It is not like that.” He snapped, his own frustration growing. 

He went to grab your hands again but you batted them away. Pushing and shoving at his chest, you were desperate to get away. Feeling frantic, the anger you’ve been trying to smother was starting to bubble and rise to the surface. But now your feelings were out of control. Laying too close to the surface was your frustration, hurt, confusions and yearning. Somehow in all of this, your heart was still looking for him in the darkness. Feeling pinned and trapped, the frustration was bringing tears to your eyes.  

“Just listen, Y/N-”

“Get off me!”  

Fed up with your pats and pushes, Peter finally shoved your hands aside and firmly cupped your face. Bringing his forehead down to rest against yours, his fingers cradling the back of your head creating a warm cocoon of just you and him. 

 “My dear sweet, Y/N. Listen to me. I know asking you to put your trust in me is not a fair ask but I’m going to do it anyway. I have my reasons for keeping Wendy on this island, but I promise you, it’s not romantic. I have … suspicions about her that I need to resolve before I can decide what to do with her. But please just trust in me.” The sweetness of his soft voice and his request soaked into your heart the way watercolor soaks into fine paper. His softness and intimacy drained the fight from you, leaving you with only hurt. 

Not wanting to fall for his tricks and continue this loop, you whisper, “Please don’t do this, Peter. These mind games, I-I-I can’t! I’m too tired and too weak to survive you. Please-”

But before you could tell him off, he interrupts, “I know it’ll sound like an easy excuse or some made up lie but I’m telling the truth. I’m going to need your trust because it’ll sound like I’m paranoid, but I promise, this isn’t some easy way out excuse…. just something isn’t right with her. And things haven’t been right since she’s gotten here. I can feel a change in Neverland, but I can’t figure out what she’s done. I’ve caught her rifling through my things and trying to follow me. I’ve been letting her and acting as though I haven’t noticed, but only so that I can figure out what she is trying to do. But that’s how she found my cabin before. I didn’t take her there and I didn’t tell her about it, but she knows about it because she followed me one night. I’m telling you the truth. Just let me figure out what is going on and I’ll get rid of her.” His voice was earnest, like he was being honest but there was a whisper of doubt in the back of your mind. 

Maybe he was being truthful? But I haven’t noticed any changes in the island. But I guess I arrived around the same time Wendy did and didn’t know what it was like before. But he could also be lying just to keep me placated. 

Sensing your doubts, Peter tilts your head up and plants his lips on yours. One of his hands slide to the back of your nape to hold you steady for his onslaught of your mouth. His mouth was soft and warm. Sweet and demanding. Fervent but nervous. A man yet still a boy.

Tears finally slip down your face as you went the unwanted relief that washed over you. How could you want this man so much, a man you weren’t even sure if you could trust, but needed desperately. A man that made you weak with want but afraid of the fall. Against your lips, he whispers, “Please, Y/N, please,” but his kisses never stop and your heart tugs with every quiver you could feel from his lips. What was he asking for? What else could he want from you? But whatever it was … you knew you would give it to him. 

“Trust in me. I’m begging you, just trust in me. Let me show you. Come back to the cabin, I sent her away, you’ll see, she’s not there anymore.”

“It’s not just the cabin, Peter. It’s everything. She’s everywhere. I see you guys-”

“But have you ever seen me affectionate with her? Never. It’s never been like that. She might be donned the title of Lost Mother or whatever, but that doesn’t have any association to me. It’s all for the boys.”

“Peter-” He cut in before you could argue.

“Please. Just trust in me. Just enough so that I can prove it to you. Then decide for yourself, but for right now, just trust in me enough. Come back with me tonight. Don’t leave me.” And that was it. That was when your resolve broke and there was nothing you could do but pay heed to his request. With your heart in your throat, throwing caution to the wind, you return his kiss tenfold; letting your actions answer for you. 

~~~ it’s nasty time, ladies and gentlemen ~~~~

Your hands cup his jaw and you push up on your toes, slanting your head to deepen the kiss. You open your mouth in invitation and he accepts instantly. His tongues rushes in to meet and dance with yours; a happy reunion. His groan of relief vibrates through your body and your core tightens in excitement. Squeezing your thighs together to find any sort of relief and you run your hands down his chest to grip the fabric of his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer. 

Suddenly, Peter reaches down and hooks his arms behind your thighs before hoisting you up, your back against the tree and your legs wrapped around his hip, only his body keeping you suspended. The dress that you were wearing rides up high on your thigh and the cold air swirls against your burning skin cause goose bumps were pebble in their wake. Peter uses his hips to keep you pin against the tree but that meant that your could feel his hard member resting against your sex. 

Peter shoves his face into the crook of your neck and suckles and nibbles all along any exposed skin. His hands were gripping and kneading your ass as he was supporting your weight. Almost like he couldn’t help himself, Peter rocks his hips into yours pulling a gasp from you and a groan from him at the sudden delicious friction. “What have you done to me, Y/N? I can feel your grip on your mind and I can do nothing to stop you. You’ve bewitched me. All I could ever need is you, like this.” His whispered breath skates across your skin, burning your ears and curling your toes. 

Giving him easier access to your skin, your eyes close and your head rolls to the side. Unbeknwnsts to you, this movement causes the strap of your dress to slip off your shoulders, the top of your dress falling slightly, giving Peter a perfect view of the tops of your breast. You felt one of his hands tease up your legs and in between your flushed bodies. He pulls your panties to the side and your feel his fingers delve into your folds. You let out a small whimper as he hits his mark, using your wetness, he swirls his expert fingers around your clit with ease. “Peter, please.” His name fell from your lips like a prayer, causing his to chuckle and you yelp in surprise as he plants a firm bite on your neck, causing threads of pleasure down your spine. Your breast felt heavy and achy with need, every pant from you causing your nipples to rub against his chest. Your hips are now rolling on their own accord, moving in time with his torturing fingers.

“You keep begging sweetly like that and I won’t be able to stop myself from taking you right here. I’m barely holding onto my reserve right now, Y/N. I want nothing more than to throw you down and have my fill of you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll tell me to stop right now.” 

Sighing dreamily, you tease, “Weren’t you the one who started this, hmm?” His movements slowed to a stop, and he simply held you for a long moment. Your heart felt like it was floating and soaring through the cloud, butterflies in your stomach as his breath fanned against your breast. “Yeah well … I’ve never been the reasonable one, have I?” You felt his smirk against your neck before it disappeared in his seriousness, “If you want me to stop, Y/N, you have to let me know now.” 

“You’ll stop if I ask?” Your whisper was barely heard as it floated through the silent night.

He was silent for a moment before he responded, “I would. It would kill me but I would. I would do anything you asked of me, Y/N. I would steal the moon for you if you asked it of me. Please … just stay with me.”

Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you envelop the precious bundle that was clingy to you like you were his life source. How could you deny him? Tilting your head towards him so that you lips ghosted over his ear, you whisper, “I need you, Peter. Are you going to make me beg?”

You let out a started gasp as he shot to life. Your hands falling away from him and bracing behind you against the tree as one of his hands shot down to undo his pants while the other ripped the top of your dress down the middle, leaving the two sides falling open and revealing your body to him. Your dress hung loosely, like a belt wrapped around your waist now, your breasts exposed to the cool air causing your nipples to pebble. Suddenly his naked cock was dragging between your wet lips as he rocked against you, coating it with your arousal. Peter pushed to have his body flush against yours again and his face back in your neck, one hand went back to your ass while the other grabbed and squeezed at your breast. 

“Y/N. I need you. Hard and fast. I can’t think straight and having you like this is pushing me towards the brink of insanity. I can’t control myself right now.” 

“Don’t hold back, Peter. I need you, just as you are.” 

A pleasured cry and a “oh my god” was ripped from you when Peter lifted you and slid you the whole way down, taking his whole cock inside you until you were sitting flush against his thigh. “Oh, fuck, Y/N. My dreams are nothing compared to this.” 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as he used you to milk his cock; using you to ride him. His arm flexing to lift you and his hips slamming up to meet you. His pace was brutal. His strength had you slamming down with a force that made your muscles squeeze and pulse with every thrust. Your cries were loud and obscene but his growls and grunt were feral; only causing you to react more frantically. Your hips your rolling to meet his thrusts and the strong kneading on your achy breasts and bites along your neck was almost too much to bare. In and out. In and out. Every slide and every slam sending pleasure to the tops of your head to the tips of your toes.

Then suddenly, his hand was there again, right on your clit with enough pressure that cause nearly painful pleasure. He continued to buck into you like a wild animal, your muscles clenched like a vice in satisfaction. He swirled and flicked with such precision as though he knew exactly what you felt and knew what you needed. Your head was swimming with arosual, your toes curling and your back arching against the rough texture on your back, cause little delicious scratches to scrape there. “Peter, I’m right there. Cum with me. I need you.” 

He slammed his lips into yours, drinking in all your cries, and his efforts doubled, then all at once, he stilled and groaned into your mouth, and he shook and emptied into you. Sweaty and panting, you both held each other, desperate to catch your breaths. After a few calm and blissful minutes, Peter softly kisses your jaw and whispers, “Come back with me, Y/N. Stay with me.”

With your eyes closed, your head rolled back, and your smile pointing up towards the dark sky, you whisper, “Ok, Peter. Take me home.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I Told You To Stay Pt. 1

tags: @fandom-fae @mmikeypopcornperil @layla2-49 @sjisfindingneverland @rainbow-alilou @hirohard0 @kaypan9909 @riordanness @vampbloodbunny2 @mk-the-great @fightformidnightx @lanelovesdilfs @queeniemariel @ariaroseloklover @quackitysdrugdealer @wildcatglove13 @james-800 @impossiblesaladwerewolf @bellarose-24