#Warm Cotton Jacket
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Functional Fashio Army Green Parka with Oversized Pockets for Winter Adventures
Elevate your winter wardrobe with our Army Green Parka! Crafted from fine cotton and featuring oversized pockets, this coat combines style and comfort. True to size, it measures 33.15" from shoulder to hem, providing a relaxed fit for all body types.
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Made the choice of wearing my usual flannel jacket with Independent Trucks hoodie to work last night and now realize what a horrible mistake that was. It's 27 degrees out but feels like 18, and the fabric of these bad boys are much too thin to keep me warm. I'm gonna be freezing my ass off on the walk home from the train >_< lesson learned ig.
#Tomorrow I'll wear my winter coat (insulated black jean jacket) and my Missing Link hoodie (50/50 Cotton & Polyester. Cozy and warm.)#I should pull my long johns out of storage too finally.
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Transform Your Dog’s Behavior Instantly – Get the Best Training Toys for Dogs Now!
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Yandere wolf breeding willing bunny reader😚
He couldn’t help but take you away to his den after seeing you all alone, your fluffy bunny ears twitching from the cold.
You had lost your way, separated from your fellow bunny hybrids and had been fending for yourself for nearly a week now.
At first you had been waiting, sure that the others would return to save you… but winter was approaching, and as snow started fall, you realized they wouldn’t jeopardize themselves to help you.
Now, you were trying your best to prepare for winter all by yourself. It was no easy task, your fat barely able to keep you from freezing as you scavenged.
Nothing was growing anymore, and all the other hybrids had long since barricaded themselves in their own homes.
The wolf hybrid had been out on a hunt when he spotted you. He had followed your scent and was ready to pounce, but one look had him ready to pounce on you in a very different way.
You were a chubby little thing, your cotton tail wagging as you shivered and bent over to pick up sticks for a fire. He could see your plump ass and fat thighs, your hips perfectly wide. The wolf could already imagine breeding a litter of pups into your sweet, fat bunny cunt.
He planned on using his size and your species innate fear of predators to scare you into coming with him… but went differently than he had expected.
“Hello, little one.”
You jumped at the sound of a deep voice behind you, squeaking before scurrying away. He caught you easily, holding onto on of you ears. “Slow down, bunny.”
When you finally turned to look at him, instead of screaming or pleading for him to spare your life, you teared up and wrapped your arms around him.
“D-did you come to help me?”
This made him pause. You were looking up at him with the cutest teary eyes, your chubby cheeks warm and covered in tears. He was going to reply, but you were already opening his jacket so you could burrow into it, making sweet little purrs as you snuggled him.
“Warm…”
Feeling your chubby body press against him was both comforting, and made his cock twitch in his pants. At that movement, he decided that you were his completely, discarding any thoughts of devouring you that he lingered.
“What’s a chubby little bunny like you doing out here during winter, hmm?”
He cupped your cheek, pinching it gently. He had to be careful with his sharp claws, making sure not to pierce your chubby flesh.
“M-my… my colony… they left me behind…”
Your voice was shaky, and he could feel tears soaking into his shirt. That was all he needed to hear.
With one swift movement, he scooped you up and carried you to his den, already rubbing his scent into your soft neck. Claiming you was the only thing on his mind, and he honestly wanted to mount you the second you were inside his den…
But you were cold, tired, and hungry…
He was already attached, watching you munch on some stew he prepared with great interest. The way your chubby cheeks puffed out as they filled up with food, how you sighed in happiness as you finally filled your belly after a week of barely eating… it all made him fall further in love.
His obsession was growing, and he was determined to have you all to himself.
You slept in the furs he prepared for you, so innocent and trusting. The urge to pounce on your sleeping body then and there did surface, but he pushed it away.
You were a sweet little thing, and he felt an ache in his chest when he thought about you looking at him with fear instead of the soft, thankful look you gave him.
Never before had someone instantly attached themselves to him, willingly curling up by his side and even grooming him. You slept with him every night, the two of you sharing warmth as winter came.
His sweet bun became so much more than something he wanted to fuck, he loved you with all of his heart. Everyday that passed only cemented his feelings, you were now his ray of sunshine that kept him warm during the cold, harsh winter.
So when you got ready to leave when spring came, he couldn’t have that.
“Thank you for taking care of me…”
You were hugging him, your little cotton tail wagging furiously as you softly groomed him in a sign of affection. God, he could hold you forever. Your scent was like a drug for him, making him feel woozy and needy.
“I’m sorry I took up so many of your resources… I won’t bother you any longer.”
Before you could leave, he grabbed your wrist and growled lowly, his nose burying itself in your neck.
“W-what are y-“
He placed hot kisses along your neck, nipping at your collarbone, his warm fanning against your skin. “You think you were a bother, little one? If you were a bother, I would have eaten you.”
He wasn’t surprised when you just tilted your head, your chubby cheeks warming up. You were such a sweet, innocent thing. “Really? Then… did you… like me being here?”
The wolf laughed, his chest vibrating against your back. “Oh, my sweet little rabbit… I could barely hold myself back from claiming you all winter long.”
You blinked, looking up at him in adoration, your eyes so soft and warm. God, he wanted to protect that innocence of yours… but he also desired you so carnally that he couldn’t wait to be inside of you.
“Claim me? Y-you wanna be my mate?”
He tilted up your chin, purring softly as his thumb brushed over your plump lips. “Desperately.”
Your lips met his in a hot, needy kiss. It was almost instant, the way he had you pinned down and half naked. You moaned into his mouth as he groped your breast, pinching your nipples with a bit too much force.
“Mmph!”
You squirmed a little, feeling his hand slipping into your panties to play with your fat bunny cunt, two fingers already moving in and out of you. It felt so strange, you’d never had someone touch you there before…
“How cute…”
He purred in delight, watching your eyes grow fuzzy and teary as he pushed you over the edge, his thumb rubbing your clit to help you cum.
Your first orgasm felt like fireworks going off in your belly, your hips bucking uncontrollably. His sweet little bunny, crying out and writhing under him was certainly a sight to behold.
His fat cock rested on your pussy, and you looked at it in awe. It was huge, you’d seen another bunny hybrid’s dick once or twice when they’d try to court you, but it didn’t compare to the wolf’s.
It looked so thick and red, and the way he was looking down at your little bunny cunt looked like a predator ready to devour its prey.
He quickly mounted you, his cheeks red and eyes hazy.
As the tip pressed against your tight hole, you whimpered, holding onto him. You didn’t complain or move away because you wanted to be a good mate for him… but he could tell you were afraid.
“Hush, little one. I won’t hurt you…”
He licked your cheek, nuzzling against you in an attempt to comfort you as he started to push into you.
You cried and held onto him, your plump thighs resting on his hips as he bottomed out. He couldn’t help it, immediately starting to fuck into your fat pussy, unable to stop himself.
The sounds of squelching, your squeals and moans could be heard from the den. You were so tight, he couldn’t stand it! He gripped your plump hips, eager to knot his pretty little mate.
You yelped as you were turned onto your tummy, your hips lifting as he held you up and rutted into you as your little cotton tail wagged.
He grabbed onto your fluffy bunny ears, pulling and tugging on them as the tip of his cock pressed against your cervix. Your poor cunt was being abused and used by your mate… but you just loved him so much.
And it felt way too good.
Being knotted for the first time made you cry, your already stretched out pussy having to accommodate for his swelling cock.
“F-fuck, baby… my little mate, all mine, okay? Gotta knock you up…”
As he continued to rut his swollen cock into you, he kept whispering how cute you’d look with your belly heavy with his pups, how he’d provide for you and keep his pretty little mate fat and happy.
The two of you stayed like that for a while, his knot keeping you attached for him. He groomed you, licking your hair and cheeks and cooing soft praise.
“My sweet girl, did so good… gonna be a mommy soon, aren’t you?”
Exhausted, you drifted off, happy that you had someone that would care for you, since you were a helpless little bunny that needed someone to coddle you.
He watched you sleep, his eyes narrowing as he left a bite mark on your neck, claiming you as his.
You were his little bun, and every other creature in the vicinity would know you were his entirely. No one would dare touch the wolf’s mate, dare they anger him.
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YANDERE TAGLIST: @katerinaval @sunset-214 @avalordream @atransmuter @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @j3llyphisching @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam
#5k event#wolf hybrid#wolf hybrid smut#bunny hybrid!reader#bunny hybrid smut#hybrid bunny#werewolf imagine#werewolf smut#monster fucker#monster lover#monster fudger#monster boyfriend#chubby!reader#chubby reader#x reader#fem reader#female reader#monster imagine#monster boy oc#monster smut#x reader smut#teratophillia#teraphilia#terat0philliac#terato#exophelia#fat reader#cw breeding#yandere x reader#tw yandere
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Boys Winter Fleece Cotton Cardigan
Our Boys Winter Fleece Cotton Cardigan is designed for maximum comfort and durability. It features a fleece-lined interior to provide warmth and softness, while its cotton exterior ensures long-lasting wear. Perfect for cold winter days.
#fleece jacket#winter jacket#hooded jacket#jackets#jacket#winter coat#warm coat#fur coat#Cardigan#winter cardigan#winter fur coat#cotton fleece cardigan#formal coat#long coat#clasy trends#clasy com#kids clothes near me
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Bruised
Characters: Lip Gallagher x reader, Fiona, Ian, Debbie, V
Summary/ Request: How do you think lip would react if fwb that they've known each other forever ends up coming to the house in the middle of the night in the middle of winter with sleep shorts and a tank top with socks, covered in bruises
Words: 1.5k
Warnings: Parent abuse, physically abuse
A/N: PROTECTIVE LIP AHHHHH!!!! I just love him and know he'd protect reader at ALL COST! All mistakes are mine as I am sometimes too lazy to proof read but I hope you enjoy!! Let me know what you think!! <3
You are in a daze.
Your frail body shakes as the sudden flashbacks of yelling and pushing and crying continue to play in your head. Trying to understand, to comprehend what in the hell just happened. Thinking a million thoughts yet completely nothing at all. Your head aches, the shooting pressure builds, beating against your skull.
The snow crunches under your steps, soaking through your socks as you stumble to keep yourself up right. The icy wind causes you to tremble more than the horrors of the night. Barely able to keep your eyes open wide enough to see where you are going.
Having no particular destination in mind but here you are standing outside Lip Gallagher’s house, knocking on the door in the middle of the night, begging to be let in.
Lip has been the person you’ve leaned on for almost every bullshit thing that has happened in your life, understanding each other on a deeper level. It was only recently that your relationship with Lip became sexual but your connection was much more than that. And unfortunately neither of you have the guts to make it anything more than just friends who sleep together.
Your knocking rapidly increases, quickly becoming impatient until you hear the lock on the other side click and the porch light turn on. Coming face to face with his older sister Fiona who’s look of annoyance quickly washes over with concern, brows furrowing, mouth open in shock as she stares at your fragile body, wearing only a cotton tank top, small boxer shorts and socks shielding you from the cold. Your exposed skin is covered in purple bruises, deepening in color with every second that you tremble in front of her.
Immediately snatching one of the jackets off the hook behind her and wrapping it around your shoulders as she pulls you inside. Goosebumps lining your skin as the warm, inside air circles around you. The pain is no longer from the cold but from the aching bruises.
And while your world has been turned upside down, a happy boy on the next street over is fighting a huge grin as he walks back home.
The extra skip in Lip’s step was from the wonderful night he just spent with Karen, mainly the sex part. Their relationship has become more positive and Lip hopes that they are finally going to make it more official, like boyfriend/ girlfriend official, no one else on the side.
But...becoming official with Karen means that he will no longer get to see you...at all. Karen is hugely jealous of your relationship with Lip. The inside jokes, the constant hanging out, the connection that she sees that you two are obviously oblivious to. And the only way that she agreed to making things official with Lip is that he will have to cut off all ties with you.
Lip is feeling torn, picking between you and Karen should be so easy for him but these past couple of months, especially when you add sex into the equation, makes him question everything. He lets out one more deep breath, the fog floating in front of him as he knows that tomorrow he will finally have to tell you that you can’t be friends anymore. Knowing that the outcome is going to be disastrous.
Skipping every other skip as he jogs up the stairs of the back porch, a curious thought enters his mind as he notices all the lights shining into the darkness of the night and the door unlocked as he jiggles the handle. Walking into the warm kitchen, unwrapping his scarf and shrugging off his jacket, dismissing the items onto the table until some unknown later time.
The commotion from the front end of the house travels around his body as he stumbles to kick off his boots, catching himself on the wall by the stairs to stop himself from falling over. Peaking around the corner, trying to understand the roaring chaos that fills that Gallagher house tonight.
Ian comes down the stairs, his hand placed on his forehand and the other holds a phone tightly to his ear. Practically arguing with the person on the other line, speaking some details about a house over on Gilmore Street.
Gilmore Street…that’s where you live.
Lip’s interest suddenly peaked, his face asking a plain question towards his younger brother…what the hell is going on here?
But Ian waves him off, continuing on his story on how the police need to check on the house now and how something really fucked up happened.
Lip stands there dumbfounded, trying to figure out this super confusing situation that he just walked into. His attention floats elsewhere as the two women in the next room talking abruptly loud. If he didn't know Fiona and V personally, then he would think hat they are arguing. Walking closer to the dining room but not actually in the room itself, Lip watches their interaction.
Their movements are elaborate and complex. Fiona runs fingers through her hair, tossing it to one side, passing the hard floor beneath her. The conversation between them is making no sense to Lip, something about having to wait until tomorrow and trying to solve some problem.
Lip stands still, his mind trying to piece the puzzle together from the small details that he has been given. But how could he, when it feels like everyone is talking in code. Like it's some top secret event that he can't know anything about.
Feeling something graze his side, bringing him back to reality to see Debbie walk between the two women towards the living room. In her hands a mug with steam coming from it. Walking quickly to the couch where she hands the mug to a girl. Lip following Debbie's same movements to get a better look at who's in his house. Eyes wide when it see that it's you...
A confused look freezes on his face as he studies your body. Your shaky hands reach out towards the mug as the warm contains seeping through the glass cup through your body. Your eyes fixated in front of you, as if the small girl standing in front of you isn’t actually there. Your chest heaving rapidly, breathing heavily through your nose. Knees bruised, shaking together.
It is as if the dam that keeps the water of emotions behind a strong wall suddenly shatters. The instant fire spreads through Lip’s body as he sees your weak state. The walls of decorum crumble as his hands turn into fist and his jaw locks. The blood making his face bright red, moving quickly to your side, his knees hitting into the wooden floors hard as he practically pushes Debbie out of the way so he is kneeling in front of you.
“WHAT HAPPENED?” Lip voice breaks through the chaos of the house as he holds onto your shoulders, shaking slightly but your gaze would shift to meet his, “What happened, tell me!” He whines, the pain mixed with anger driving his actions.
“Don’t yell at her dummy.” Fiona shouts as she comes over, grabbing Lip off the floor so they are face to face.
“What the fuck is going on?” The spit spewing from his mouth, his hand signaling towards you and why you are bruised and bleeding and hurt. Why you? Why you?
“We don’t know. Your little girlfriend just showed up here like 10 minutes ago.” V crosses her arms behind Fiona.
“She’s not my girlfriend,” Lip quickly remarks, the comment would have stung you more if you can actually concentrate but tonight is not the night for you to be dwelling over how Lip Gallagher feels about you.
Your soft voice speaks his name.
Lip coming to you again, “Hey,” Lip’s kind eyes are on you, his touch now gentle as his heart aches.
Eyes shaking as they meet him, glossing over as a tear slips down your cheek. But you struggle to get any words out.
“Just tell me what happened?” His hand on your cheek, wiping away the tears, “Please tell me.”
Gulping hard, your trembling body making the liquid in your mug move, hesitating as you say, “My dad."
“He got out?”
“From where?” Debbie asks.
Lip groans, hate having to explain further, “Prison. Shut up.” Debbie rolls her eyes, obviously annoyed.
“Th-this morning.” The words feel like cotton balls in your mouth.
“He did this to you?” Standing up immediately, “I’m gonna kill that motherfucker. Get the bat Ian.” He points towards his brother who instantly follows his orders.
The tears start flowing now, the snob leaking from your nose. Your body collapsing as the abuse of the night finally settles in causing you lose yourself.
“Lip.” Deb pulls Lip's attention back to you.
“She needs you right now buddy. You can beat the son-of-a-bitch up tomorrow.” Fiona patting his back before leaving the room.
And he knew Fiona was right. He didn't need to be this guy who beat the shit out of some low-life, that isn't going to make him a hero to you. Lip needs to be here for you now, comfort you, take care of you. Be the man that you need.
He realized why you came over to his house, looking for him at your darkest moment. Understanding that you and him can spend hours together without saying a word. Be closer, more intimate then sex with Karen will ever be. It was always going to be you, he was always going to pick you.
Wrapping his arms around you as you sob deeper against his chest, shushing as he rocks you, "I've got you." Kissing the top of your head. The instantly relief coating your body.
~~~
Let me know what you think!! thank you for reading. I LOVE YOU!!!
#lip gallagher imagine#lip gallagher x reader#Lip Gallagher angst#lip gallagher#shameless x reader#lip gallagher fanfic#shameless imagine#theapangea
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cam girl (part ten)
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
rating explicit 18+
summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.
» masterlist
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Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.
You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.
You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.
But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.
You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.
With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.
You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.
Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.
Rafe: dont joke like that
Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?
He sends you $100.
You reply: something like that :)
You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.
Rafe: when can i come over?
You smile at your phone.
You: what about our cam session?
You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.
You’d do it all for free.
Rafe: i won’t wait that long
Not just can’t. He won’t.
You reply: like 8ish?
Rafe: ok
It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.
“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.
He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.
Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.
“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.
His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?
You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.
It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.
“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”
“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.
“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.
“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”
“You first,” he says.
“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”
“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.
You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.
“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”
Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.
“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.
“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”
He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.
“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.
Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.
“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.
Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.
“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.
“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”
You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.
“Spread your legs,” he orders.
The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.
You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.
“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.
“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.
“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.
“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.
He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.
Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.
“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.
When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.
“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.
Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.
“What hurts?”
“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”
“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.
“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”
“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”
“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.
“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.
Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.
You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.
“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.
Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.
He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.
“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.
“Have an open mind, okay?”
“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.
You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.
When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.
“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.
“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”
Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.
“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”
He clears his throat.
“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.
“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”
You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.
“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”
“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.
“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.
“You don’t have to do it.”
“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.
Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.
Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.
Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.
You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.
Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.
“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.
“How’s it feel?” you ask.
“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”
You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.
You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.
In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.
The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.
Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.
“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.
“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.
“What else is huge?” he asks.
“Your ego.”
“Fuck off,” he laughs.
“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.
“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.
“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”
You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.
You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.
You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.
You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.
When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.
Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.
He pulls out, still dripping.
“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.
“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?
“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”
He shakes his head in response.
You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.
Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.
You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.
bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol
A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.
Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.
You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.
At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.
Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.
“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”
You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.
“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.
“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.
“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.
You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.
“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”
You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.
Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.
“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.
“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.
He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.
You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.
After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.
You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.
It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.
Rafe: princessssssdsssss
You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?
Rafe: ur mean
Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol
Yeah. He’s plastered.
Rafe: ans you have cutehands
Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke
You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.
You reply: i think someone’s drunk…
Rafe: yes iam
Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool
You: what do you want to do with me?
You get an alert that he sent you $69.
Rafe: that
Rafe: looool
Sex. Of course.
You: are you going to make me do every position?
Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it
You: true…
Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about
Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.
You: oh only lowkey. cool
Rafe: don’t be maddd
You: i’m pissed
Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)
You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.
You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?
Rafe: YES
Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol
You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep
Rafe: you need this dick
You: omg
Rafe: do you likw this skng
Rafe: song
You: ??? what song
You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.
Rafe: irs good
Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance
You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight
You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.
You: sorry i was mean
He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.
Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.
You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.
When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.
There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.
So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.
You won’t close your eyes.
You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.
The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.
When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.
It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.
{ read part eleven here }
author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!
#we are FINALLY getting rafe’s pov in the next part 🫡#also dont hate me for the cliffhanger pls#two more parts and the series will wrap up!!! hope you’ve liked it 🥰#im excited to give this fic its ending but honestly sad its almost over#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe x reader#obx smut#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic
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𝗘𝗺𝗼𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗦𝘂𝗽𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁 𝗚𝗳 — Ellie x Bimbo!r
𝜗𝜚 Author’s notes ✦ Butch/femme dynamics, Ellie has a panic attack, this references joel’s death, anxiety, bile, nausea, and hyper sexual themes, Ellie’s butch, wears a packer/strap. Refers to it as cock, dick etc Reader’s a bimbo and genuinely stupid. Ellie gets really scared.
𝜗𝜚 Ellie Williams ✦ I listened to Vietnam - Crystal Castles it’s tempo mirrors Ellie’s panicked anxiety. I’ve linked to a few seconds before the beat drops, on YouTube for accessibility. Listen with earphones so the music fucks your ears.
𝜗𝜚 If you find yourself uncomfortable with the themes in this fic, maybe try educating yourself on Butch sexuality. Read this to get a sense of Ellie’s headspace.
kisses u. ⋆ 𝜗𝜚 ˚⟡.
Ellie fisted the joystick into neutral and killed the engine. She cracked all 5 knuckles before reaching over to release your seatbelt. The belts cold buckle sprang across your breasts and over your shoulder, turning your nipples visibly hard and full in their wake. Ellie fought off the urge to glance down; to drink them in. She was semi-successful at managing away her inner teenage boy every time it chose to rear its ugly hungry head at inopportune moments.
“So…” she started, her hand massaging the inner dough of your thighs, warmed by the hug of your crossed legs. “We just gettin’ your little sparkly earrings? Or are you gonna get distracted and spend more money than I make in a single paycheck?”
You ran your palms up the sleeves of Ellie’s brown military jacket. Fascinated by the texture of the rough fabric everytime one of its crinkles caught against your acrylic nails. You couldn’t fathom how Ellie walked around in clothes so rough and distressed, all of your outfits were soft cotton or silky satin. And here Ellie wore a deconstructed uniform jacket like it was meant for her body. You blinked away your distracted thoughts, and leaned into nose at her neck. Pressing nose and lips to the source of the most comforting scent in the world to you. Allspice, cigarette smoke, and 2-in-1 body wash. There was still a faint trace of her cologne, you wish she wore it, the traces of it made you go brainless for your butch.
“Earrings only.” Your sweet voice was muffled against her neck. She reached her other hand up to cup the back of your neck. The cold metal of her rings kissed your skin, but you leaned into it.
“I’ll wait for you right here, peach.”
“Okay.” You nodded obediently.
“Don’t spend too long in there, okay?”
“Okay.” You nodded once again.
“If anyone stares at you too long or makes you feel weird for being girly, call me and I’ll meet you wherever. Especially those judgemental ass grandmas.”
You looked up at her, her hair was in her eyes, casting a shadow that turned her gaze into a deep hunter green.
You leaned in slowly and kissed her lips. Ellie attempted to chase the kiss, until you slid your hand between the valley of her breasts and urged her to stay. Behave baby boy.
Ellie’s right eyebrow quirked up in response, impressed that you kept her in check. That you knew her so well that you could tell exactly where that kiss could’ve led to if you didn’t tell her to slow down.
“Be right back here in an hour.” Ellie was relishing in how your thumb rubbed across her chest. Your hand rested on her chest like you were her little damsel in distress, looking to her to save you. You made her feel like Clark Kent, and it made her want to puff her chest out.
“Hour-and-a-half, I wanna get ice cream.” You prattled.
“An hour.”
“Ellieeee” You whined.
“If you’re not back here by 2:30 pm, I’m stomping into Icing myself, throwing you over my shoulder and marching right back out.”
“Please as if you could hoist me up over your shoulder.” You leaned over to fish Ellie’s wallet from her back pocket.
Ellie side-eyed you intensely as she tracked the movement. She enclsaped your wrist in an iron grip once your acrylics brushed the back pocket of her jeans. Her thumb pressed down. You couldn’t move.
“You didn’t seem confused about my strength when I lifted you into that full nelson and pounded you in front of the mirror.” She dropped her blue steel face and started grinning like a fox. “Uhnnuhuh Ellie, m’gonna squirt. I’m gonna squirt on you daddy.” She mocked in a high-pitched overly feminine voice. She drew her eyebrows together to school up the appearance of someone deliriously aroused. One that mimicked your cock-drunk face all those days ago.
Ellie dropped the comedic expression for a moment, in favor of replacing it with the one she sported to intimidate customers who started testing her boundaries or her patience. The one that said ‘respect me.’
“Fuck you, asshole. I’m made of steel.” She spat.
You leaned up, and just planted a glossy kiss on her cheek. She blushed until she was cherry tomato red. She always blushed harder when you were affectionate to her, in the middle of her egotistical masculine delusions. Like a mom kissing her son's cheek, after he called himself Spider-Man.
Ellie would tease you for hours. But remind her again you were her adorable little girlfriend who she worshiped, then she’d be back to acting right again. Ready to hump the air just to get a whiff of your hair. Sweet and pliable. Ellie crossed her fingers subtly and hoped you got specks of glitter gloss on her cheek from that kiss. She wore your kisses like merchandise. Those and the smell of your pussy on her mouth and fingers. Some days, the smell was just smeared all over her face.
You blinked at her, slow and pouty in the way that got her real happy and pleased. “Now that you’re done poking and teasing me, can I go inside to get my sparkly earrings?”
Ellie slid her wallet into your palm, her lips parted at the way your acrylics snatched it. The way they sunk into the soft leather. Mmmm.
“An hour.”
You climbed out of her beat up hatchback. The metal groaned as you slammed the door shut. “See you Els, if I get in trouble or get lost I’ll call you okay? I charged my phone this time. Bye-bye.” You sing-songed just before walking away, out of the parking lot and towards the entrance of the mall.
You were the utter definition of hate to see you leave, but love to watch you go. Ellie drank in the very very obvious little characters of your ass. The jiggly flesh, dimpled skin, and the way they smacked each other with each step. The type of visual someone could only see if the person walking in front of them was naked. Which you practically were considering how your pink cotton leggings looked painted on. The silhouette was way too intimate with how well it showed the character of your ass. She could’ve forced you to change, but you two had such a good morning today.
Ellie didn’t want to—no—she hated picking fights with you. Ellie being mad at you? That was just another Tuesday. She had temperament issues, trauma, death of a loved one blah blah blah. But you being mad at Ellie? She’d kill herself. She shuddered in the car at the thought of it, and swallowed her jealousy. Everyone sees your little dimpled ass? Fine. She’s the only person that’s seen it twerking for her during backshots. And anyway, you’d get jealous if she wore gray sweatpants to work, so she kinda understood the sentiment. Especially because she packed everywhere, and the bulge was glaring.
Ellie wrapped her knuckles on the steering wheel. Trying to distract herself from the slow and lonely weight of the parking lot. Joy Division’s “disorder” played in her head. She considered pulling out a Marlboro to smoke, but thought against it. She remembered how you squealed whenever she kissed you with cigarette breath, telling her how it made your kisses taste so bitter.
Truth be told, she was just as clingy with you, as you were to her. You just initiated it more often. When someone follows her around like a little puppy trying to catch up to its much larger owner all day, it’s hard not to notice their missing presence.
Ellie played with her rings as the mounting anxiety gnawed at her tummy. She turned her wrist over to check her watch. Ten. Only ten minutes had gone by? Fucking christ.
She puffed out her cheeks. Yeah she was being ridiculous. Knowing you, you probably had only just arrived at the store, and that meant making a cute pikachu face at every new piece of merchandise they shipped into the shop floor that week. So it’d be a while before you were back. She could’ve gone in with you, but Ellie knew her presence there would’ve weirdly encouraged you to take a full day tour of the mall. She was your walking wallet apparently. But it’s worse when the wallet can actually give in.
It was better this way, you kept her card in hand, but Ellie wasn’t physically there to actually convince of anything. So you couldn’t use it to buy anything more than earrings. Plus, she couldn’t stand another trip to Victoria’s Secret. As much as she loved the way you modeled a show for her whenever you tried stuff on, and as much as the jokes she cracked with the other boyfriends waiting for their girlfriends to be done made for good conversation, Victoria’s Secret just served to make her feel incredibly out of place. Mostly due to its overtly sexual displays of femininity. Something she still struggled to place how she felt about. All Ellie knew was that she didn’t want it.
Matter of fact she had repelled femininity so much, it even reflected in her dating preferences. You were by far the most feminine girl Ellie had ever dated. That was a considerably large shift from the tomboys she typically had crushes on in highschool.
But she couldn’t help but be turned on by the way your acrylics stroked her bulge, by the way you blinked up at her with those dolly lashes like you needed her approval more than you needed oxygen, by the way she got both wet and enraged seeing men’s gazes linger on you as she walked behind you. Lingering in a way that they never did for any of her exes. It ignited a possessiveness in her she had convinced herself she didn’t have the ability to feel. Made her walk out the house with her shoulders drawn up to her ears, scowling. As if to say to all the men, ‘fuck off, get your own cocksleeve. This one’s claimed.’
You were the cutest cocksleeve too. The human embodiment of a little bow for her dick.
Just the thought prompted her to squeeze her bulge through her jeans, feeling phantom erections.
God it’d been how long now? Ellie checked her watch, reading the watch face to make sure she’d read that right. Twenty minutes? Only?
Her palms started perspiring, and she started grinding her teeth. It’s fine, it’s fine, it’s fine. She’ll be back any minute. Be cool, you freak.
Ellie reached to grab her phone, but the way the time flashed at the top bar of the screen made her stomach knot up anxiously. She chucked her phone into the passenger seat, and rolled down the window to get some fresh air. It felt beautiful for a moment, her rough short hair curling around the wind and blowing in her eyes. But then she felt like she couldn’t breathe again. Like her throat was squeezing in on itself. So Ellie unbuttoned the top button of her navy plaid button down. She yanked the collar away from her neck, and took deep breaths. Nice and deep slow breaths. The demonic little shadows and whispers of panic ebbed away, leaving only room for peace and the sunlight of the early afternoon. Ellie smiled, she’d be fine.
She played with her rings, recounting all the places and dates she’d thrifted them from. Then she started fidgeting with them as her leg bounced in the car, working off some of that returning nervous energy. The little shadows were starting to creep back in her mind again. Ellie white-knuckled the steering wheel. “No, no, no please. Not now, please not now.” She sucked in a deep breath as unshed tears lined her waterline. She flipped her wrist watch face up quickly, you’d been gone for thirty-five minutes by this point. And Ellie felt her skin run cold. thirty-five minutes left twenty-five minutes. Twenty-five more minutes for the ebb and flow of panic to infect her brain and trigger her adrenaline response. Twenty-five more minutes of letting her own mind attack itself. Ellie couldn’t stomach the thought. She started gasping as she fidgeted to remove the car keys from the ignition. The dark whispering shadow only urged her to look at one thought in her mind: Alone. You’re alone again, Ellie.
She nearly keeled over from the sheer nausea that thought brought about. Ellie tripped out of her car, slammed the door and stumbled towards the mall as her heartbeat thundered louder than her thoughts. And her thoughts were very loud. Her face felt tight and itchy, as she ran. And due to the combination of wind and glossy eyes, her vision warped until it became disfigured. Which only set off to make her blood run icier. Like she was being deprived of all her necessary senses as she yanked the mall door open and stumbled around trying to wade her way through until she got to the side where women’s jewelry and clothing was huddled. Her vision was disjointed, Ellie felt as if she was looking through a fish-eye lens. It caused bile to rise in her throat. Ellie was spiraling, she knew it. And if she didn’t find you—fuck where were you?—it was only going to get uglier for her. She despised being reduced to ugly. She hated herself when she was ugly.
Snot mixed in with tears as she scaled the walls of the mall trying to use the brightness of pink and white signs to guide her to the right store. You promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing, you promised you’d go to icing. She hummed the mantra in corners of her brain.
She gurgled “better fucking be at Icing otherwise I’m gonna kill he—my heart christ—fuck fuck fuck baby please be at icing.” The palpitations rolled in, causing her heart to beat erratically. Two beats instead of one, a skipped beat, or an extra hard beat. Every bastardized combination instead of the reliable, glub-glub of a healthy heart. Ellie gripped her own shirt, and tried to feel any lingering warmth from your hand when you placed it there nearly an hour ago. Her breaths were coming out ragged, and she was still blind with a disjointed vision no matter how much she rubbed her jacket across her eyes to soak up tears. Ellie stumbled until she saw a store with the familiar lettering, and she yanked and tugged at her shirt to ground herself as she made her way to the checkout lane. “Hi.” Her voice came out so small and strained. She hated herself for it.
“Have you seen a girl, she’s—seems about yay-high and she’s wearing pink leggings and a tight pink top. Oh—she’s pretty—long nails. My girlfriend, do you know where my girlfriend is?” Ellie choked, her sanity was slipping. Her bloodshot eyes were crazed as she stared down at the cashier like the woman held the answer to curing Ellie’s mental suffering.
“N-no. Sorry I didn’t see a girl with pink leggings.”
“No?” Ellie’s voice grew fainter, weaker. She sobbed “are you sure?” but her voice crackled with that sentence, and the cashier just stared at her with a puzzled expression, unsure of what to say to diffuse the situation.
Ellie stumbled out of the store, flinching at the expressions of customers who were looking around the store to see if they were the only one witnessing the girl's mounting panic attack. She ran to an empty hallway in the mall. The one where they kept those gumball machines that hadn’t been replaced since 1998. She fell to her knees and curled in on herself. Her nails scratched her scalp until it broke skin, trying to draw out the thoughts of being alone, being alone, being alone, being, alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, being alone, out of her head.
Ellie tugged at her hair now, using the self-inflicted pain to distract from that hungry giggling fear, the one that wrapped itself around her eyes and throat and told her to describe what she saw: loneliness. Pitch black, devoid of warmth, pure unadulterated isolation.
She needed you, needed you so bad as she cried to herself on her knees. She should’ve never let you go alone, she should’ve never let you walk away from her, she should’ve never let you have an hour to leave her, she should’ve never let you take her wallet and not take her, she should’ve never ever ever ever ignored the signs, the raised hairs and the feeling of dread that pooled in her stomach the past week. Just waiting to be triggered by something insignificant. Now it was triggered, and in an incredibly public place too. Ellie beat her chest, coughing just to bring herself down from the dissociative hell her mind was flinching in. “Baby where are you? I’m hurting…it’s hurting me again. Pleasepleasepleaseplease, peach.”
Nails bluntly tickled her nape, sending a shiver down her spine just as the smell of sweet jasmine and vanilla perfume engulfed her. Ellie broke from her kneeling fetal position to draw you into her lap. She didn’t even need to look at you, she knew you like the back of her hand. Ellie knew the feeling of those acrylic nails because of how deeply they’d scratched down her back in bed. She knew the smell of your perfume from how often she’d buried her face into your waiting body after work for comfort. Her grip was painful, likely breaking capillaries from its tightness. She mewled for you like a kitten finding its mother. “Babygirl.”
“Ellie—Ellie I’m sorry did I take too long? I set an alarm, I don’t think it went off, I’m sorry Ellie I didn’t mean too I promise.” Ellie let out a wet laugh from where her face was crooned in your neck. She just shook her head. It absolutely was not your fault. But God weren’t you just the cutest fucking thing in the world for thinking you’d made another little mistake? How sweet, that even in the face of Ellie’s utter mental crack and breakdown, you found a way to give your baby the benefit of the doubt. Ellie dragged her face up your neck, inhaling deeply as her nose traced a path up your throat. The scent alone was like Xanax to the nerves, drowning her in a sea of serenity. Letting the anxiety ebb away until it was no more than a dull twinge, the whispers reduced to muted hums. You were her light. Ellie’s grip on you tightened, her medicine.
She pulled her face away, and she could only imagine how distressed she must’ve looked by the way your eyebrows drew up, and by the way your pretty little lips formed a worried pout. Ellie gnawed on her bottom lip. There was nothing to fear, you would understand.
“You didn’t take too long princess, I just had a panic attack.”
Your hands flew to cup Ellie’s reddened blotchy cheeks, massaging her face cutely as her eyelashes fluttered. God, you were a balm. “I should’ve seen it coming, I’ve been feeling so out of it the past week. But then this morning was so fun. We made fluffy pancakes, you sat on my lap and listened to my dumb work drama, helped me trim my bangs, then...” Ellie blew air into her cheeks and looked up. This was going to be hard to say. Felt like a lump stuck in her throat. “Then we got ready and the kiss we had before we got in the car made everything melt away. This morning was so good baby, so good. I tried to ignore it, thinking my brain just wanted to be a little asshole and spook me for no reason. But no—I should’ve known—it doesn’t play tricks, it only gives warnings.”
Ellie leaned into your palms, she kissed them gently. “Can we go home baby?.” She held your gaze through wet eyelashes. You nodded “Mhm. I’m sorry Els I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I missed you.” You were disappointed because you didn’t intuitively know the right words to say, and how to say them. Didn’t know how to articulate that you understood her pain but she also shouldn’t beat herself up. Everything you thought of sounded cliche, you weren’t smarter than her, you weren’t able to come up with reassuring words the way other people could. Not like her uncle Tommy or Maria, or anyone. All you could do was cover her in kisses, tell her you loved her, that next time you’d never ever be separated from her, and cradle her head against your chest.
Ellie rose to her feet, pulling you up with her by your elbows. The kiss that followed was for comfort, for reassurance. For the feeling of squeezing her human emotional support plushie.
Ellie pulled away first, leaving you wanting more. She tasted so good, smelled so good. Made you want to pur and stroke her through her jeans. But it wasn’t the time nor place. Not after recent events.
“Did you get your earrings at least?”
“Yeah, I got a pair for you too!” You shared excitedly.
Ellie was still shaken up, but for now she could break out a small grin. “You got earrings for me?”
“Yes, same color too!”
“Baby, my ears aren’t even pierced...”
“Oh.” Ellie loved that, your characteristic little ‘oh’.
“I knew that. I just got them for when—for when you decided to pierce them, yeah.”
Ellie was hot in your heels as you two made your way out of the mall “Is that right?”
“Mhm.” You refused to meet her eyes.
“Oh yeah? K, then. Thank you so much for getting me a gift using my credit card.”
“You’re very welcome, I love when we match as a couple. Els when we got home, did you want my chicken noodle? Cause it’ll make you feel better.”
Ellie sucked in a breath. Cuteness aggression was real, and she was feeling it so hard right then. Right after her emotions had already been frayed by her anxiety. She knew, if it wasn’t for the way the panic attack had left her feeling utterly exhausted, bone tired like a wet blanket, ready to drop at a moment's notice to recuperate, that she would’ve done something that would’ve pulled a squeal out of you in the car. And she had the package to do so.
“Sure, I’ll eat your damn noodle soup.” She chuckled tiredly.
You put both palms on her chest and leaned in to kiss her, stealing back some of the desire that was ripped away too soon in the mall.
“You’ll feel better in no time.”
Ellie gave you a once-over. Over eager, as usual.
“Somehow I don’t doubt that.”
You littered her face in kisses all the way home, like you always did. Like you thought each press of your lips to her freckled face was going to cure her of her anguish. And believe Ellie, every press of your puffy lips to her cheeks, tip of her nose and forehead did more for her state of mind than two hours of trauma therapy a week did. Or at least that’s what she’d like to believe. Fuck the noddle soup, it’s you. You’re what’s going to make her feel better. As long as you’re there, everyday for her to come home to. All she needed was her pretty princess, her little babydoll, her little bimbo.
#Ellie Williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie x reader#Ellie#ellie williams smut#ellie smut#ellie williams x you#the last of us#ellie tlou2#ellie x y/n#ellie x fem reader#the last of us fanfiction#ellie the last of us#ellie tlou#ellie x you#tlou smut#the last of us x you#tlou#the last of us x reader#the last of us x y/n#the last of us smut#tlou x y/n#tlou x reader#tlou part 2#tlou2#tlou fanfiction#tlou 2
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if i knew then |ex-husband!eddie munson x ex-wife!reader|
prompt: a collection of flashbacks from before.
contains: angst. like idk how else to say it- ow ow ow angst. all flashbacks. teen pregnancy, unexpected pregnancy. shitty judgy people. insecurities. dream crushing. fighting. language. really just bittersweet angst. chaos. they're so not good and immature in these. also might be a part one to a two part series.
October 17th, 1985
“We’re gonna get caught, Eddie.” Your heart trilled, heavy and hard at a thundering pace, his hand holding yours so sweetly, guiding you through the small patch of forestry that led to the football stadium- you hoped he couldn’t feel how your palms were beginning to sweat.
“Who’s gonna catch us?” Eddie turned, chin hooking over his shoulder to give you a teasing grin. He pushed back a limb, unbothered that the branches were undoubtedly scratching at his leather jacket. “No one’s gonna be out here unless they’re doin’ the same shit we are, sweetheart. Promise ya.”
Your tummy flipped with an adrenaline rush of heat, squeezing his hand tighter, moving closer to him as the dirt path turned to broken concrete, the Hawkin’s High School football stadium vacant of light, but bleachers standing high in the moonlight.
Eddie moved towards the back side of the chain link fence, to the corner, heavy boot sliding under the exposed chain metal, lifting it so it peeled upwards. “After you,” Eddie bowed playfully, nodding towards the small gap.
Your lips twisted, heat pricking at your cheeks. “I should’ve worn pants, I guess.” You muttered, hands smoothing over the skirt you’d chosen instead, despite the chilly temperatures. You knew Eddie liked you in a skirt, eyes always lingering and flickering towards your exposed legs. Even before you were ‘official’, you’d always catch him looking during fourth period.
“‘S alright,” Eddie shrugged, lips puckering and pulling into a smirk he tried to hide. “Nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“Eddie,” You hissed, a trilling squeal of excitement in your tone, looking over your shoulder as you shimmied through the small space, careful not to pick your sweater.
Eddie grinned, though you didn’t miss the way his eyes darted, catching a peek as you crawled in. He followed you closely, expertly sliding in before the chain fencing snapped back into place. You wondered how many times he’d snuck in here before. Maybe he was the one who made the hole in the fence to begin with. If he’d brought any other girls with him before.
Eddie’s hand found your back, sliding over to your hip, pulling you close into him. “See? No one’s here.” Eddie nodded, motioning towards the empty rows of bleachers, the vacant football field. “You can relax now, baby, told you no one would be here.”
“Yeah?” You hummed, leaning into his chest, warm cotton brushing your skin. “Guess I should trust you. Seems like you’ve done this a few times before.”
Eddie’s chest rumbled with a laugh, squeezing the fat of your hip. “Only a few.”
“Yeah? With who?” You scoffed lightly, brows pinched when you looked up at him.
Eddie’s brows raised in amusement, lips rolling and biting back a grin. “Really hot chick, ya know? Her name was Gareth.” Eddie snorted in laughter. “I’ve only been here one time, last year with Gareth. We spray painted Kimmy Frank’s number on the field, wrote ‘call for a good time’ under it after she stood Jeff up at homecoming.”
“That was you?” You gawked.
“Yeah,” Eddie smirked proudly. “She deserved it. Asked him out and got him all excited, then laughed at him when he showed up. Said it was a dare and called him names. Really fucked him up, ya know? So we thought we’d embarrass her.”
“It definitely worked.” You muttered, passing the twenty yard line that stood out from the others with a fresh coat of paint, from Eddie and Gareth’s handiwork. “Didn’t the Franks have to change numbers because so many people were calling?”
“Yeah,” Eddie snorted with a laugh. “I might’ve put it in the stall at The Hideout, too.”
Your heart skipped, stomach dropping with the same prickling rush of fear and excitement it always did when you were with Eddie. The head reeling, mind numbing kind of rush that had you brainlessly going into any situation with him.
“Here,” Eddie pulled you from your own thoughts, stopping at the center of the field. “This feels like a good spot.”
“Eddie-” You looked around, towards the fence then the other side. You were so exposed, right in the middle of the field, for anyone to see.
“-Baby, I told you, no one’s gonna come. Believe me.” Eddie hummed, shimmying off his jacket. “It’s not like this is Fort Knox or somethin’. It’s a public high school. No one’s giving a shit who’s here.”
You bit at your lip, rolling it around as you tugged at your fingers, a nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach. It had been growing and growing since you first decided to sneak out, after your parents had gone to bed, slipping through the window and running down the quiet street towards Eddie’s can parked on the corner.
“C’mon,” Eddie muttered, cold hands catching your jaw, the metal of his rings meeting your own wind bitten cheeks, pulling you into him. “I’m not gonna let you get in trouble.”
“I feel like you are the trouble.” You muttered, your body betraying your brain, letting yourself slip into his hold, hands pulling at his shirt.
Eddie grinned, lips barely brushing before they captured yours, pulling you into him. Hands pulling at your clothes, your hips, sinking onto the cold grass. Eddie laid you back on his leather jacket, a gentleman, you mused. Shoving his pants and boxers around his thighs, he flipped your skirt up, lips still pulling at yours as he rutted into you. Your head spun, dizzy with excitement and pleasure, fists balling at the fabric of his shirt, hoping the sun would stay gone forever so the night would never end.
July 28th, 1986
“Holy shit,” Eddie muttered, cradling the can of Similac. “Is there not a knock off version of this?”
“No,” You hissed, rocking Jude close to your chest.
You could feel the judging eyes of the couple beside you. Their baby in a stroller, cart full of diapers and groceries, the woman’s left hand adorning a rather large diamond, the man clean cut in a suit and tie. The polar opposite of you and Eddie, two scraggly looking teens with a two month old baby, and an empty cart.
“Are you sure you don’t want to just get some of Marsha’s milk?” Eddie asked, turning to look at you. “She said she’s overproducing anyways, and she’d give you some bottles since you’re not-”
“-Eddie,” Your body burned with embarrassed heat, tensing as the others in the aisle turned, lips pursed in disapproval. “Just get the formula.”
“Baby, this is two-fifty a can. Marsha said she’d give it for free. I don’t see why you wouldn’t just take that.” Eddie said, trying to rationalize with you.
The older woman beside you scoffed, her nose sticking in the air in disapproval as she turned to the young girl beside her. “And that’s why you don’t have a baby before you're married. You don’t want to end up like these two.” Her eyes narrowed towards you and Eddie. “It’s unfair to the baby.”
Your heart stopped, fell into your stomach, your breath leaving with it. You thought you’d be used to this- the dirty, judgy looks when you went to prom nearly nine months pregnant, or when you barely made it to graduation after you had Jude three days prior. Still, it felt like a suckerpunch to your sternum every time. You’d blame the consuming shame as the reason you barely left the house now.
“Lady, mind your own fuckin’ business, alright?” Eddie snapped, a growl in his voice that left her jumping, hurriedly pushing the cart down the aisle.
You didn’t dare look to the couple beside you, but you could feel their judgment burning through you. Jude had begun to fuss the moment you entered the store, picking up on your apprehension that left him unsettled, until he finally began to cry.
“Shit,” Eddie muttered, looking down at the baby, his face beginning to scrunch with the warning of a wail. “Here, take him to the car and I’ll check out.”
“No, I can check out.” You shook your head, overwhelmed with the interaction from before and now this. “We still need diapers.”
“I can get diapers-”
“-No.” You snapped, teeth baring in irritation. “You always get the wrong size. I can get them.” Your voice was harsh, stilling Eddie and you both with shock in the aisle.
Jude’s whimpering cries were beginning to grow louder over the beating of your heart thundering in your ears. “I’m sorry.” You whispered, looking down at Jude, then back at Eddie. “I just… I need a second.”
Eddie nodded slowly, pulling out his wallet and passing it to you. “I got him.” Eddie muttered, slowly taking Jude from your arms. “I’ll be in the van. Take your time, baby.” He pressed a kiss to your head before he left you.
You felt nearly robotic, pushing down the aisles towards the diapers. The dirty looks were gone, they left with Eddie and Jude, but a suffocating feeling of guilt took its place. The woman’s words ringing in your ears, unfair to the baby. Maybe it was, your mind screamed, as you stood in line at the check out. Maybe it was unfair that you couldn’t afford the luxury swaddlers, or that you couldn’t even produce enough milk to feed Jude. Maybe your parents were right, you had made a mistake.
“Do you have any coupons?” The teenage cashier dead panned, a bored look in her eyes as she pulled you from your thoughts.
“Oh, yeah- yes, I do.” You muttered, flipping through Eddie’s wallet for the coupons you’d clipped out of the newspaper this week, handing them over with a shame you were unsure of.
The cashier punched in the number, the register dinging as the total rolled over at the top. “Twelve- seventy-two.” She muttered.
You pulled the ten dollar bill out, heart sinking as you flipped through the contents, the folds and flaps of Eddie’s leather wallet. Where was the five you put in here last night? You know you gave it to him-
“Ma’am,” The cashier huffed. “It’s twelve-seventy-two.”
“I-I know.” Your chest tightened, lungs constricting. “I-I know I had more. I-I’m sorry, I just- I know I put it in here-”
“-Ma’am, if you don’t have enough-”
“-No, I have enough.” You snapped, startling the cashier. “I just- I know I put it in here, just- Are you sure you added the coupons?”
“Yes,” The cashier snapped. You could feel your heart thundering in your chest, ears ringing, hands trembling. “Lady, I’ve got a line. If you don’t have the money, I’m going to have to ask you to leave and you can come back when you have enough.”
“I can’t-” You pressed your eyes shut, your voice shaking. “H-How much without the formula?”
“Just the diapers?” The cashier huffed. “Eight dollars and seven cents.”
“Fine. I-I’ll just get those.” You muttered, eyes cutting to the line behind you.
“Just the diapers?” The cashier asked, brow lifting with annoyance.
“Yes.” You muttered, hands shaking when you reached for the ten dollar bill, eyes pricking with tears.
“That will be eight dollars and-”
“-Add the formula back on.” A voice behind you said softly.
You jumped, turning towards the woman behind you. “I’ll pay for them.” She said softly, giving you a gentle nod.
“No, no, I-I couldn’t ask you-”
“-You didn’t.” The woman shook her head, sliding the twenty dollar bill over to the cashier. “Everyone needs a little help every now and then, and I’m happy to help.”
Your lip trembled, jaw clenching to keep in your tears. “Thank you.” Your voice was broken, a barely there whisper that burned when it made its way out of your chest.
“Don’t mention it.” The woman waved with a smile. “How old is your baby?”
“T-Two months.” You croaked, sniffling back a wet sob.
“A fun age.” She grinned. “Two months is great, but two years- ooh.” She rolled her eyes playfully. “That’s when they become little gremlins.”
The cashier handed back the change, passing you the bagged formula and diapers. “Please, let me at least give you some money, an-and I can pay you back the rest by the end of the week, I swear.” You rambled, reaching for a pen off the counter, flipping your receipt over. “If you give me your name, an-and phone number, I’ll-”
“-That’s not necessary, dear, I promise.” The woman shook her head at you lightly. “But if you don’t mind me asking, are you working?”
Your chin ducked, spinning the pen around in your hands. “I-I waitress during the week at Benny’s. It’s been hard finding a job, because…” You looked down at the groceries, voice tightening in your throat.
The woman nodded, reaching for the pen in your hands. “Well, if you’re interested in something else, I work at Vance Insurance and we’re looking for a receptionist.” She scribbled an address on the back of your receipt with her name- Sheila. “We just need someone young who knows how to work the phones, and can help us transfer calls, schedule appointments. Is that something you can do?”
“I- Yes, I can do that.” You nodded furiously.
“Wonderful.” Sheila grinned, passing the pen back to the cashier. “Stop in anytime this week and they’ll interview you. It’s a good starting place, good benefits- especially for a baby.”
“Thank you,” Your eyes watered, brimming with tears that fell slowly down your cheeks. “I just- I can’t thank you enough, really, this is too kind-”
“-Everyone needs help sometimes.” Sheila repeated gently. “I was you not too long ago, just needing some help. Like I said, I’m happy to help.”
You nodded, clutching the receipt in your hands as you walked towards the sliding doors of the entrance. You held onto the receipt, buried it deep in your pocket until Monday morning.
February 2nd, 1989
“Motherfucker,” Eddie hissed, ringed hand slapping down on the sticky table top. “A dollar?”
“C’mon, ‘least it’s somethin’, right?” Darrel snickered from beside Eddie, bussing the booth next to him, emptied beer glasses splashing in the bin. “Could be nothin’ like that table before.”
“Bunch of assholes,” Eddie grunted, shoving the dollar in his pocket. “Dude has a BMW and can’t tip more than a dollar?”
“Those are the worst kinds, man.” Darrel shook his head. “Ones with the most are the stingiest.”
“You’re tellin’ me.” Eddie scoffed, shoving the emptied bourbon glass in the bin. “That’s why I quit workin’ at Elroy’s.”
“You quit at Elroy’s?” Darrel gaped. “When? I thought you just started that job, man, what happened?”
“Psh, he’s a dick.” Eddie rolled his eyes. “Had me doin’ all the dirty work, making nothing, while he’s making six figures and just sits there bitching at all of us nobodies.” Eddie shook his head. “I got sick of it. I’m not working for some asshole and making no money. Besides, it was cuttin’ into my time playing here.”
Darrel nodded slowly, head shaking with a shrug. “Yeah, that’s… That’s tough, Ed.” He hummed. “What about the Mrs? She pissed at you for quitting another job.”
“No,” Eddie snapped, far too quickly and too defensively for it to be true. Pissed was an understatement. You’d had a fight so big, so loud, the neighbors two trailers down had to come check on you.
“This is the third job this year, Eddie!” You had roared, throwing your arms out. “How the fuck are we going to afford a house when you keep doing this shit?”
“Will you relax? We’ll be fine, we’ve always been fine. I’ll find another-”
“-We’ve always been fine because I have a job.”
“Baby, when I make it big, you won’t have to work. I’ll take care of us- all of us, ok? I’m working on it. I’ve gotten a bunch of gigs in Indianapolis-”
“-That don’t pay.” You sneered. “That you spend more money on gas to get to than you actually make-”
“-You gotta spend a little money to make money, baby. That’s business!” Eddie huffed, throwing his hands up. It was the same fight, it always was.
“Spend what money? My money?” You scoffed. “Taking money away from Jude so you can, what? Play pretend rockstar? Grow up, Eddie!”
That had been three nights ago. You hadn’t talked to Eddie since then. He’d slept on the couch every night since the fight.
“Look, I-I got another job lined up.” Eddie bristled, shaking his head, trying to drown out your cruel words still ringing in his head. “I’m playing for Oktoberfest at this bar in Indianapolis. There’s gonna be a shit ton of people there, and who knows? Could be a producer or someone there to sign us. The guy over there said they’re always coming in from Chicago, seeing what talent is around.”
“Oh, it’s a gig?” Darrel looked at him, not nearly as excited as Eddie thought he would be. “Not a job.”
“I mean, yeah, it’s both-”
“-You’re gettin’ paid?” Darrel lifted a brow.
“Yeah, it’s not- it’s not much. Like fifty bucks, but that’s not with tips, and they cover my tab for the night.” Eddie stuttered defensively. It sounded like a much better deal when the owner pitched it to him.
Darrel nodded slowly, fingers tapping on the bin. “Well, good luck then.” He muttered, wiping down the table. “But, uh, if there’s not a producer or whatever, you know my cousin is still looking for help with his HVAC business. If you’re ever looking for anything.”
Eddie’s chest burned with furious heat, scoffing as he pulled away, moving to the next table. Who the fuck does he think he is? Eddie fumed, jaw set tight, teeth grinding with fury.
The rest of the night wasn’t better, despite the crowd. Eddie pocketed a solid thirty-seven dollars, and some change an asshole at the corner booth left. He cut it down thirty-six dollars before he made it home, stopping by the liquor store for a pack of Camels.
Eddie was surprised the living room light was still on when he came in, quietly shutting the door in case you and Jude were asleep on the couch again.
“Baby,” Eddie whispered, creeping into the room. He found you sitting, awake, on the couch, arms crossed over your chest, eyes red rimmed and glassy.
“Oh, I thought you were asleep.” Eddie muttered, voice still hushed as he shook off his jacket, tossing it over the back of the couch.
Your lips pursed, arms still tight across your chest. “Jude is with Wayne tonight.” You said, though your voice didn’t carry the usual purr it did when you’d told him that before. Tonight, it was filled with icy malice.
“Oh, yeah?” Eddie grinned, leaning over the couch towards you, arms wrapping around your frame, face pressing into your neck. “Good. I’ve had the worst fuckin’ day, and I’ve missed you. Missed sleepin’ in the bed with you, baby.” His lips tugged at your ear lobe, teeth grazing your skin.
“Stop, we’re not…” You huffed, pushing him off you gently, standing from the couch. “We need to talk, Eddie.”
Eddie’s heart dropped, sinking deep in the pit of his stomach. “Talk? About what?” His shoulders slumped, gripping the back of the couch with an exhale of exhaustion. “Baby, you know I didn’t mean it when I said that. I was just pissed, and… C’mon, you know I’d never really mean tha-”
“-I’m pregnant.” Your words echoed through the small living room of the trailer, a silence settling around the two of you after that.
Eddie’s mouth opened then closed, words strangled in his throat. “Pregnant?” Suddenly he was eighteen again, heart stilled in his chest, ears ringing with what he was sure was delusion.
“What- I mean, how- No, I-I know how, I just…” Eddie swallowed around the thick lump in his throat, head spinning with the news. “That’s-That’s great.”
Your choked sob startled him, left him flinching as your hand moved to your mouth, muffling your cries. “Hey, hey, what’s- Baby, don’t cry.” Eddie soothed, his voice calmer now than it was four years ago.
Your wet cheeks pressed into his shirt, the overwhelming scent of stale cigarettes making you retch and gag. He should have known you were pregnant a week ago, when he’d slipped in the bed beside you after a night shift at The Hideout and you had gagged, shoved him out of the bed and told him to shower. “I can smell smoke in your hair, Ed. It’s giving me a headache.”
He let you go, back away from him with a cry that turned into a gag that faded into a cough then back to a sob. “What’s wrong?” Eddie hesitated, his hands reaching out to you then back to his sides, unsure of what to do. “Why-Why are you crying? Are you not- I mean, hey, at least we’re married this time and… and adults.”
He thought the little joke he made might calm you down, soothe you a little, not send you into another wave of sobs. Face crumbling, shoulders shaking with tears. “What- Why are you crying?” Eddie’s brows furrowed, reaching out for you. “Are you- Are you not happy?”
“No,” You spat, sniffing back a wet cry. “I mean, yes but…” Your teary eyes met his, lip shaking with a cry you tried to swallow. “I-I don’t think it’s the ri-right time.”
Eddie frowned. “Well, it’s a little late for that, sweetheart.” His hand rubbed over your arm soothingly. “What’s the matter, hm? What’s got you upset? This should be a good thing.”
“Should be,” You spat with a wet sob. “Eddie, we barely make it as it is, and…and we’re never going to be able to afford two kids when you won’t stay at a job.” Your breath hitched, the harsh truth you’d kept in for months finally tumbling out, laying on him thickly in the room.
Eddie’s lips pursed, tightened in a straight line. “I have a job.”
“The Hideout is not a job.” You countered. “Not one that can support two kids, Eddie, be serious.”
“I am being serious.” Eddie crossed his arms defensively. “And it’s not my main job, anyways, you know that.” You fought back an eye roll, the tears flooding your vision instead.
“Baby, I know it doesn’t pay much right now, but all I need is one chance, ok? One time, just someone out there hearing me play, and-and then everything will change. We’ll be set for life. More than set.” Eddie gushed, reaching out to hold you.
His eyes were wide, wild with the same excitement they were years ago, when he’d first told you his dream of being a rockstar. But that was before- before Jude, before you’d gotten married, before reality hit you in the face and knocked you on your feet. Before you’d become bitter with the harsh realization that dreams were for the lucky few, and that you weren’t.
“I can’t…” You pressed a hand to your mouth, taking a deep breath you hoped would calm your nerves, settle your stomach. “Eddie, I- we don’t have time for one day. We have a family right now.” Your tear stained eyes met his.
“I can’t afford to live off a dream that may happen.” Your lips pressed together, swallowing back a cry.
Eddie’s face fell, and you could practically see his heart shattering. “What-What are you saying?”
“That you need to grow up.” Your tone clipped, bitter and cold in the echo of the room. “You have a kid- two, now, an-and it’s not fair to them that they suffer because you want to chase down a dream that might happen.”
Eddie’s heart sunk, burning with a soul crushing ache he hadn’t felt in years. “What? You think I can’t make it? That-That I’m not good enough?”
Your eyes closed, taking in a deep, calming breath to steady yourself. “I never said that.” You looked at him. “Maybe if… if things would have been different, you could go out every night an-and play wherever and do whatever, but they’re not. We have Jude and another on the way, and…”
There was a pause, neither one of you sure how to fill it, what to say. You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, willing your tears down. “You have to choose, Eddie.” Your voice shook gently, uncertainty filling each syllable. “If you want to go and make it big, fine, but I am not going to keep bankrolling your trips. Either get a job and grow up and be a father, or go be a rockstar.”
“That’s so fucked.” Eddie scoffed. “You know that? That is so fucked, and-and manipulative and- You know I love you and Jude, and I’d do anything-”
“-Then go get a job.” You snapped. “Go get a job and grow up, Eddie. Grow up and be an adult. Stop quitting every five seconds because something is mildly uncomfortable. Do you think I’m happy all the time at my job? No, but I stay because I have to, for Jude and for you.”
Eddie swallowed back the burn of tears that built in the back of his throat, embarrassment maybe anger spilling hot out of his chest. “It’s time to grow up, Eddie.” Your eyes couldn’t meet his as you walked towards the door. “The choice is yours.”
Eddie’s fists balled when you shut the bedroom door, stalking towards the front door, slamming it so hard behind him the trailer shook. He fished for his keys, yanking the van door open. You heard the gravel flying, the squeal of the tires following when he tore out of the drive. You squeezed your eyes together, letting out a pathetic sob in the still and silent room.
Hours later, long after you’d cried yourself to sleep, you felt the bed dip. You smelled the smoke before you felt him, sliding next to you under the sheets, Eddie’s hands finding your waist.
“I called Darrel.” Eddie said into the quiet darkness of the room, his voice hoarse with emotion. “His cousin said I could start Monday.”
You turned, blinking with burning eyes, still raw from tears. “Really?” You croaked.
Eddie swallowed before he nodded, and you pretended not to notice the way his lip shook. “You’re right. I…I need to grow up and be a man- be a better husband and father to Jude and the baby.” His voice was tight.
Your words rang through Eddie’s head every day he got up, dragging himself out of bed and to work. What started as a motivating mantra, something he’d chant in his mind to get him through the tiresome shifts slowly became tainted, fading into a bitter, mocking reminder. Every time he’d pass by The Hideout, seeing the next gaggle of wannabe rockers on stage. Every time the radio would play a new band, someone his age who had gotten lucky, been at the right place at the right time and got discovered. He’d stew over it, fuming about how that could have been him. Resentment building that he tried to swallow down, the painful reminder of what could have been.
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Black Cotton Filled Coat - Hooded and Patchwork for a Chic Winter Look Our Black Hooded Coat is the ideal choice for winter, featuring zippered pockets and a stylish patchwork design. The cotton-filled construction provides warmth, while the loose fit allows for comfortable movement. Measuring 35.88" from shoulder to hem (size 5XL), it fits all cup sizes and offers generous room in the midsection and hips. Hand wash in cold water for easy care, making it a great addition to your winter wardrobe.
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Don’t be kind | RemusLupin x fem!reader
summary: Remus has come back to apologize.
tw: smut without much plot (+18), curse words
word count: 2,223
a/n: long time no see :) i have been thinking about remus so much lately... hope you like this and sorry if there are any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language.
The rain hit the window desperately. It banged the outside of the big house begging to come in. The weight of the mist creeped into the walls with ease, like a snake crawling through a dense field, almost invisible. The Black House was dark and moist, the majority of its habitants in deep, twitchy slumber.
A girl held herself up on her elbows, semi-asleep still. Some hair stuck to her temple, product of the sweat. The heat under her duvet contrasted uncomfortably with the cold atmosphere. She managed to sit on her bed to recognize the figure standing past her door. A small breeze sneaked through the gap between the creaky floors; a shiver walked across her.
“Remus?” A set of manicured fingers raised to rub her sleepy eyes.
The man remained still. Remus was counting in his head: one, two three, four… Hoping to go unnoticed around twenty. It wasn’t the first night he had entered her room to watch her sleep or something more. But it was the first time he felt embarrassed that he got caught. Twenty came around and she remained focused on the subject in her room.
The silhouette’s shoulders were moving up and down patiently and a few drops fell from his fingers to the floor: he was soaking wet, the rain caught him on the way back to the house. She knew it was Remus and not an illusion. In her dreams, he would have come to her already and he would have been dry, smelling like books and whisky, like he normally did. In her dreams, he loved her unafraid, he was certain of his feelings for her.
“So this is what you do, treat me horribly and come back to watch me sleep and wet my floors?”
“Sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you,” he replied with a hoarse voice. “It’s the moon.”
The girl looked down, a silver, thick stripe on the floor marked the distance between the bodies. It was always the moon the one coming between them. Nature’s round princess was an animated object, playing with Remus’ head and emotions. The witch constantly asked herself how something so beautiful could do him so much harm –and to her, consequently.
She removed the comforter from her body, sitting at the edge of the bed. The moon’s pale light bathed her naked legs. She wiggled her toes against the cold wood, getting ready to stand up. Remus’ breathing quickened, her actions meant I forgive you, clearly. He tried to ignore the inevitable worry of when he would no longer be forgiven.
She moved like an angel towards him: messy curls framing her face, tired eyes shaping the world around her. Remus could have kneeled to her feet and kissed them as an act of gratitude. She was merciful like a virgin.
She first pushed the heavy leather jacket off his shoulders. The garment hit the floor with a hard thud, splashing cold water on her feet. His hands were immediately on her hips, his achy knuckles relaxed at the touch of her cotton shirt. She surrounded his neck and came so close to his face she could feel his warm breath on her forehead. He smelled like pines and smog.
“I’m truly sorry, you’re so important to me,” he whispered against her hairline. His hands trespassed the fabric and caressed her lower back, occasionally playing with the edge of her underwear.
Her hands massaged his nape, helping it get rid of the tension the incoming full moon had induced. She looked up into his tired eyes, the stripe of light reflected in his pupils. He truly couldn’t escape the moon.
“It’s okay, just take what you need,” she responded while pulling his lips closer to hers.
He wanted to correct her, he wasn’t there to take anything –even if it seemed like it–, but it was too late. She immediately kissed him and he forgot about anything that had ever happened in the world before that moment.
The rain suddenly stopped, the clouds took deep a breath.
Like a siren she pushed him slowly into her waters, discarding his clothes on the way. The first buttons of his shirt were undone slowly by her slippery hands; the lethargy of her movements heated Remus’ head. He interrupted the unhurried pace yanking the shirt open, fours buttons flew across the room. Her nails scratched the hair on his torso, fondling the scars with dedication; it made Remus moan.
At the halfway point, Y/n lost her shirt. A soft breeze hardened her nipples, right before the werewolf’s hand grazed them. Her lips, already red and bitten, opened to emit a small groan of satisfaction. She was desperate for him, but so mad at his ways. She brought her bare chest closer to his in a unbridled outburst; fuck you, she thought.
Y/n kept her backward walk until she was stopped by the feel of the mattress hitting her thighs. The girl palmed him over his wet jeans: he was rock hard under the rough material. She guessed he had been hard for a while now by the way his hips stuttered. Remus separated from her kiss to observe her moving hand; in a swift move he removed it holding her by the wrist and trapping her arm behind her back.
“My turn,” he announced lowly against her cheek. He let his words linger in the air; he wanted time to slow her breaths.
With the back of his scarred hand he caressed the curve of her face relaxing the frown that had settled between her brows. His stroke kept going down her neck, the pulse of her veins made his fingers slightly jump. Like on a mountain, his hand raised following the outline of her breast; he pinched the nipple maliciously, stealing a whimper from the girl. His hand slipped down until it sneaked below the only piece of fabric that covered her. Past the mound of hair he wet his digits on her pussy, going up and down, ignoring the crying bead on purpose.
“Pl- please,” she breathed out.
“Uh?”
“I- I said please,” their eyes met. His were determined and playful, hers were pleading.
With a devious smile Remus decided to put her out of her misery and roll measured circles on her clit. Remus knew Y/n was close when the hand held hostage behind her back started to twitch; she also tried to keep her thighs relaxed, but he knew that subtle trembling too well.
The werewolf kissed her neck while diverted his fingers inside of her. First one, then another. He pumped his long fingers into her enough times to open her up, ease his way between her legs. First shallow, then deep. She swore she could feel the protruding scars caress her inner walls.
Once again, in the verge of the orgasm, he let her go. Putting his wet hand on her hip and freeing her arm from his hold. Her hands flew to his belt to unbuckle it. He held her thin hands between his and grabbed his erect member, guiding her through the up-and-down movements. She looked down, embarrassed to be so enraptured in the action.
“Look at me.”
She held her head up, looking shy beyond his shoulder, disobeying his request deliberately. He knew, then: she still resented him. Before he could say anything to defend his case, Y/n turned around and pulled down her underwear. As the small fabric fell to the floor, she straightened up and grabbed the nearest bedpost with her ass perked up.
Remus put a firm hand on her shoulder and pushed her head to side with his, trying to make space to kiss. She could feel his wet tip hitting against her butt cheeks. His hips were rutting against her while his mouth was devouring her soft neck.
“Are you sure?” He whispered in her ear. Goosebumps traveled through her sides; she nodded.
“No, use your words. Come on”
The smallest “yes” came out of her lips. Remus knew he wouldn’t get anything clearer nor louder than that. Anchoring on her hips, he pushed her close to him and grabbed his cock to position it on her entrance.
Neither could keep a sigh of pleasure in at the first stretch. Remus thanked the Gods for her existence and her acknowledgment of his; never in his craziest dreams he thought he could be with someone like her. A long list was the one to enumerate all the ways she was perfect, far more noble and good than Remus; her pussy was in the top five.
He bottomed out and stayed still for a minute, letting her accommodate to his size. He inhaled the scent of her loose curls: fig and honey, his favorite. With a tortuous kiss on her cheek he started rocking inside of her. He held her between his hands like the fourth leaf of a clover, raising a hand to fondle her tits.
The witch could feel his love being poured in the swing of his hips. He was truly sorry (–or very drunk–), she knew, because this is what she had always asked of him and rarely received: to be a little vulnerable, to show her something more than a need to release. The way his breathing fell on her jaw, his arms surrounded her torso, his inhibited grunts matched the thumps… it was perfect, just not what she wanted now.
He treated her horribly hours before, denying her help with the upcoming full moon and talking to her like she was an ignorant idiot. He was so confusing: then, he wanted her far from his life, now, he was holding onto her with all the love and need. He was so mindful and delicate, his cock hit her spot over and over again and it felt so nice that she got mad. She wanted him to unload his frustrations on her, not protect her from already inflicted pain.
“Remus,” she used a hand to halt his movements behind her, “don’t be kind.”
Remus, who was drunk in pleasure, let go of wariness and the fear of hurting her and took a firm hold of the woman in front of him. His hips pounded in and out of Y/n taking the air out of her; he looked down and delighted himself with the view of her arched back and plump ass. Quickly, the slapping sound between the flesh was accompanied by a squelching one; Remus rolled his eyes and kissed the back of her head as she got wetter. The girl moaned his name like a prayer and stammered out scoldings and praises in an hushed erotic whisper.
He paused for a second to turn and lay down his witch on the edge of the mattress. He folded over her, keeping a steady, hard pace. His eyes looked for her, he was missing the connection, a glance to say there’s so many things that I feel that I can’t put words to, but she closed her eyes in feigned focus.
“Look at me,” he framed her face with his big hand. She turned a deaf ear and kept panting, concentrating on the pleasurable new angle.
“Come on,” nothing still. “You know, I–,” she squeezed him hard interrupting his sentence; the corners of her lips raised lightly. “I won’t let you come if you don’t look at me.”
Remus decreased his tempo, rolling his hips heavily against hers. Her eyebrows met and he knew he put her in trouble. A senseless murmur spilled from her throat in the sweetest tone, the werewolf almost melted. He rolled his pelvis closer knowing it would graze her clit and she immediately dug her red nails into his biceps; he smiled triumphant. Her moans increased and he watched her struggle to keep the composure, she needed permission to come.
Just like minutes before, her eyes opened painfully slow. This time, she was greeted by Remus’ glowing face, looking at her with serious devotion and the ghost of a grin. Behind him, an almost round, luminous circle peaked behind the window: the moon.
“Hey there–”
“Harder, please, I- I wanna come,” she begged breathless, dazed by his ministrations and the beautiful light behind his strong frame.
“Shh, don’t worry. I’ll let you come, sweetheart”
Remus increased the rhythm without taking his gaze off off her. She held his face between her hands and drew him closer to conceal her moans between his lips. Surrounding her legs against his torso Y/n asked if she could come and Remus replied with a simple “Yes, love, I’ve got you”. Immediately after, he came inside her with a groan, hiding his face in the gap between her shoulder and neck, her sweetest spot.
The clouds started weeping again, never covering the silver balloon, the protagonist of the night.
The moon looked at the girl laying sweaty on the bed. On top of her, Remus relished in the sole advantage of his condition: heightened feelings. He caressed her sides, looking to say I’m sorry, once again. She looked back at the moon and brought the werewolf to her lips for another round; tomorrow the man would be the moon’s, but tonight he was all hers.
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The Ultimate Guide to the New Anti Escape Dog Harness by CHIENALAFOLIE
Keeping your dog safe and secure during outdoor adventures is every pet owner’s top priority. If you’ve ever faced the frustration of your furry companion slipping out of a standard harness, you know how vital it is to invest in a reliable solution. The new Anti Escape Dog Harness by CHIENALAFOLIE is designed to give you peace of mind while ensuring your dog’s comfort and safety.
Why Choose an Anti Escape Dog Harness?
An anti-escape harness is more than just a regular accessory. It’s a necessity for dog owners whose pets are experts at wriggling free. Whether you’re walking a high-energy pup, a nervous rescue dog, or a curious explorer, the right harness can make all the difference. Here are some key reasons why the Anti Escape Dog Harness by CHIENALAFOLIE is a must-have:
Unmatched Security
The CHIENALAFOLIE Anti Escape Dog Harness is specifically designed with escape artists in mind. Its innovative structure features multiple adjustable straps and a snug fit, ensuring your dog stays securely harnessed no matter how determined they are to break free.
Durable and High-Quality Materials
This harness is crafted from premium, durable materials that can withstand even the most adventurous outings. From daily walks to rugged hiking trails, the CHIENALAFOLIE Anti Escape Dog Harness is built to last, providing years of reliable use.
Comfort for Your Dog
Comfort is just as important as security. The harness is designed with padded straps and breathable fabric to prevent chafing and overheating. Its ergonomic design ensures even pressure distribution, reducing strain on your dog’s neck and back.
Reflective Safety Features
For evening or early morning walks, the reflective stitching on the CHIENALAFOLIE harness enhances visibility, keeping both you and your dog safe in low-light conditions.
Key Features of the CHIENALAFOLIE Anti Escape Dog Harness
Adjustable Points: Allows for a customized fit for dogs of all shapes and sizes.
No-Pull Design: Includes a front leash attachment to discourage pulling and encourage proper walking behavior.
Dual Handle System: Features both a back handle for added control and a front handle for lifting or assisting your dog over obstacles.
Easy On and Off: With quick-release buckles, putting on and taking off the harness is hassle-free.
How to Use the CHIENALAFOLIE Anti Escape Dog Harness
Using the CHIENALAFOLIE harness is straightforward and user-friendly:
Adjust the Straps: Before putting the harness on your dog, adjust the straps to fit your dog’s body snugly but comfortably.
Secure the Buckles: Place the harness over your dog’s head and secure the buckles around their chest and belly.
Check the Fit: Ensure that you can slide two fingers between the harness and your dog’s body. This ensures a secure yet comfortable fit.
Attach the Leash: Use the leash attachment point that best suits your needs—the front ring for no-pull control or the back ring for standard walking.
Why CHIENALAFOLIE Stands Out
CHIENALAFOLIE is a brand committed to providing high-quality pet products that combine functionality with style. The Anti Escape Dog Harness exemplifies their dedication to innovation and pet safety. Designed with both pets and owners in mind, this harness is a reflection of the brand’s promise to deliver reliable, durable, and aesthetically pleasing products.
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Hi !!! Can I request something romantic between shy reader and spence? maybe he’s like trying to teacher her something and they’re alone? IDK WRITE WHATEVER U WANNA RIGHT ILL EAT IT UP REGARDLESS <3
Your stomach hurts and you need to pee, but you’re stuck. You’ve been trying to submit your virtual paperwork for the last two hours. Why have they made it this difficult? You’re beginning to wonder if you’re being hazed.
Spencer told you it was easy. Well, he’d put a cup of tea on your desk (for which you hadn’t asked but gratefully accepted), seen you were starting your paperwork, and said, “I’ll see you for lunch in half an hour?” with a knowing smile.
You’d smiled back. You want to be in the know with him, even if you’d needed a ten minute recovery period after he left to learn to breathe through your nose again.
But it became clear after half an hour you wouldn’t be taking lunch, let alone joining him. Nervous sweat dampens your hands and the back of your shirt, and your face burns with heat —why is the office scorching? You’re in hell.
You click another button, sure you’ve found the right process, but a yellow triangle appears with an exclamation mark inside. Function suppressed, it says.
“Oh, good,” Spencer says, approaching from behind, a coffee. “I thought you stood me up. You’re struggling with the system?”
“I wouldn’t say struggling.”
“You don’t need any help, then?”
“Please,” you say softly, worried someone else will hear you. You don’t want anyone in the team nor the unit to realise how inept you are. It’s bad enough that Spencer’s cottoned on. “I can’t get it to work.”
“I was kidding,” he says, smiling tentatively at you. “Let me get my chair.”
Spencer tortures you sitting beside you, knee to knee and arm over your arm as he guides your mouse to the right page, then the correct paperclip. His watch falls down his wrist and brushes your skin with each direction, spurring chills all over. “You’re pretty much done,” he says.
“I don’t know why I was so confused,” you say bashfully.
“Because it’s a confusing system.” He smells like warm vanilla. You wish you could ask him about it, but you’ve a job to talk this close to him.
“Thank you for helping.”
He clicks through the last part of your file to check for any missing paperclips before he sends it off. “You’re welcome.” Then, because he secretly hates you, he takes your arm into his hand with achingly careful fingers. “Are you cold?” He rubs at your goosebumps. He has really nice hands, with strong veins. He moves purposefully.
Another rush of goosebumps down your arm. “Are you okay?” he asks, his eyebrows tugged together worriedly.
“I’m just,” —mortified— “embarrassed about the paperwork. I didn’t know there would be this many online responsibilities involved, I would’ve looked them up.”
Spencer’s eyebrows rise as your sentence ends. You’d mangled ‘looked them up’, said it breathless as his hand curled around your fingers.
“Don’t worry about all of that. You can always ask me for help. Right? I sit right there.” He points to his desk. “Did you forget?”
Something about his tone suggests that he already knows you didn’t forget, but he takes your thank you gracefully, and continues pretending you’re cold rather than physically affected by his touch. He’s nice like that.
“Here, in case you’re still cold,” he says, too casual, draping his suit jacket over your shoulders.
Not that nice.
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Just What I Needed(Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader)
warnings: handjob, ball/testicle play, softness, fluff, Nanami is a bit of a sub here, gentle loving word count: 1k pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Reader summary: it's been a long week for Kento, so you surprise him with a handjob in the bath. a/n: The artwork of Nanami in the onsen isn't mine, I couldn't find the proper credits! If someone knows who made this lovely pic of Kento, plz lemme know so I can properly credit them!!! Dividers by the lovely benkeibear!
Taglist: @beneathstarryskies @an-ever-angry-bi @seireiteihellbutterfly @namikyento @benkeibear
@kenpachisbrat @adharadotcom @heyitsd1yaa @darkstarlight82
Kento feels the weight on his shoulders. It’s been a very long day at work on top of a very long week. Everything that could go wrong ended up being catastrophic. He found himself in all kinds of problems and issues. Gojo had often leaned on him for a lot of things this week as well, and Itadori-kun had been eager to learn so many new things.
So by this point in Nanami’s week, he is quite exhausted. The only thing he’s looking forward to is spending the evening with you. That thought alone is what keeps him going. He takes the train home, wishing to be close to you as soon as possible. His mind is filled with thoughts of greeting you at the door, covering your face in kisses and hugging you tight.
The minute he walks through the door, he’s bombarded with soft kisses from you. His heart flutters at the familiar scent of your perfume, the way your lips seem to soothe his weary soul.
“Welcome home, Ken!” You cheerfully greet him.
His tired eyes meet yours and he feels himself coming back to life. “Good to see you, darling.”
You gently help him out of his jacket, smoothing out the wrinkles before hanging it up on the peg at the door. Then he removes his shoes, slipping on the comfortable and well-worn house slippers. You lead him towards the bathroom, and this surprises him. He smiles and lets out a contented sigh when he notices the tub all prepared for him.
“I know you had a really rough week,” you explain as you help him out of his blazer. “I wanted to spoil you tonight. I’ve even prepared your favorite meal, it’ll be ready after your bath.”
Nanami swears he’s gone to heaven. He allows you to undress him, and he watches in awe as you make sure to properly fold all his clothing. Then you start kissing him, your soft hands caressing him all over. You’ve always made him feel weak in the best way possible.
Then once he’s completely undressed, you help him into the bath. You sit on a stool next to the tub, grabbing a soft cotton washcloth. Nanami sighs as the warm water and bubbles are already soothing him. His sore muscles begin to loosen as the water does its magic.
“Feeling a little better?”
Kento looks over at you, smiling shyly. “I am. You always know how to spoil me.”
You take your time washing and cleaning him. You use your fancy body wash, the one that smells like sandalwood, jasmine and vanilla. It invades his senses, making him feel so secure and safe in this bath. He doesn’t remember the last time he even allowed himself to feel comforted like this.
“You’re so precious to me, Ken.” You press a kiss to his temple as your hand wanders further down his body. “I need to make sure you’re well taken care of.”
He gasps the minute you caress his thighs. He feels his cock twitching to life. His amber eyes fill with softness and lust as you begin to gently begin to wash his dick. You smirk softly, letting out a girlish giggle.
“Does my sweetheart need a little TLC?” You tease him, but you’re already wrapping your fingers around his throbbing length.
“P-please, darling. Please don’t tease me,”
You lean over and begin to kiss him. He’s moaning as your hand strokes him slowly. The way you squeeze the tip gently every time your hand goes up, makes him shudder. Shivers run down his spine from the exquisite pleasure. He arches his back, desperate to feel even more pleasure.
The soap coats your hand so perfectly, giving it the most sensual glide. The bubbles cover his body, making him feel like he’s enveloped in the most cozy and warm hug. Then your other hand joins the other. First you stimulate the tip, making him moan. Precum dribbles from the slit, making things even more slippery. Then you drift down to his heavy balls that are just begging for attention.
“Poor sweetheart, you’re all pent up.”
Kento all but sobs the minute you begin to massage his balls. His cock twitches a few more times in your hand, reminding you of your first task. Slowly, you continue to stroke him. Kento lets out such cute moans and whimpers for you.
Your fingers tighten ever so slightly, and you speed up just a little more. His hips begin to buck up into your touch, begging and pleading with you not to stop. His cheeks and the top of his ears are flush and pink, his eyes are half-lidded and pupils blown with lust.
“You wanna cum?” you ask him, leaning in to kiss his lips.
“Please baby. Please please please,”
You continue to kiss him, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip. He parts his lips, groaning as your tongues touch. You don’t falter in your rhythm. It’s so perfect right now.
“Such a good man, you work so hard. You deserve some spoiling.”
Kento whines, “I’m—fuck, I’m close.”
You don’t slow down. You ever so gently tug on his balls, massaging them. Kento’s whines reverberate against the walls, and they grow in decibels as he gets closer and closer. You kiss him hungrily once more, praising him for being such a good boy for you. The minute you nip at his bottom lip, that’s all it takes for him to cum hard.
“Fuck! I’m cumming!” His eyes roll back in his head and his hips jerk with every spurt of hot cum.
Ropes of his seed begin to coat your hand. You feel every throb and jerk, and you even get to feel his balls draw up. You stroke him to completion, kissing him softly. You slowly pull away, giving him a few moments to breathe and relax before you wash him once more.
“You always know just how to make me feel better,” Kento says, smiling shyly at you.
“It’s because I adore you.”
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Missed Me?
Husband Choi Jongho x (F)Reader
Summary: Just a grown man missing his wife.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count: 1K
Est. Read Time: 5 min
Warnings: None
Rating: SFW
Type: One-shot
Networks: @cromernet @k-labels @illusionnet
Banner: @cafekitsune
A/N: I was gonna write Yunho's part today, but I dreamt about this and woke up sad- now ya'll gonna feel as delusional as I did.
Your body jerked awake at the sudden warmth, a shaky gasp breaking past your lips as you struggled against the newcomer but you felt him pull you closer mumbling in a hushed voice, “It’s me…sheesh, stop watching those crime documentaries”, causing you to huff in annoyance. You felt your tsundere man wrapping his leg around yours, and drape an arm across your waist, pulling you even closer, his nose buried in your neck, almost wanting you to become one.
“Jjong.” a faint whisper floated in the silence of the night, followed by a cracked hum. The soft cotton enveloping the two of you began to burn up, only for your tired mind to mentally begin the countdown for when your lover would toss it off both of you, using his body heat to keep the two of you warm instead- didn’t even need to count to ten, six seconds in and he had kicked it of the two of you, and much like usual the duvet landed on its usual place, the ground- you’d berate him for this again in the morning, like every morning, but right now something else was on your mind.
It wasn't often, moments like these were often rushed, the nervous touches, fleeting kisses, the gentle but swift caress of his fingers- physical touch was something Jongho was still afraid to use, regardless of how long the two of you had been together for, regardless of how long the two of you had been married for. Much like his emotions, he would keep the physical affection to a minimum.
For the initial part of the relationship, back in college, you wondered if he was even interested in you, other than that initial confession there was no real intimate indication of his feelings towards you, for quite a while. To some extent you had considered ending the relationship all and all, assuming he perhaps was not comfortable with you, perhaps you did not meet his expectations of an ideal partner, perhaps you two were still too young.
However, when the moment came you lost your nerve, especially when he gave you that sincere smile, his eyes crinkling and twirling like stars, all because you two had crossed your 6-month mark of being together, as he handed you a silly little gift, a polaroid of you two in a small bear keychain frame. That night, for some reason, you had begun to notice the little things about Choi Jongho, how he'd open the door for you but also ask for a payment, often an ‘Oh thank you, what a nice man you are’, how he'd end up pouring water for you even before you'd ask, how when you'd be walking towards the car or even to the restaurant you'd feel the gentle weight of his warm jacket, then see him trudging ahead mumbling to himself, “Why not wear a coat when it's cold?!”
Let's not forget the time you were cursing yourself for assuming ‘I can do it in one night’ during exam season, causing you to panic too, crying and memorising simultaneously. That very night someone magically appeared at your door, breaking into the girl's dorm, didn't matter to you though, especially when you were enveloped in a bear hug as soon as he saw your teary-eyed face. That night you realised Jongho was very much capable of giving great hugs and of course, a more physical kind of intimacy with him heavily depended on the situation. If it were you who required attention, he'd gently hold you, whispering sweet nothings in your ear, letting you cling onto him- but when he'd cling onto you, that would be a whole other story.
Choi Jongho was a clingy man, especially when he missed you. Something you figured out when you met him post-winter break, having him cling onto you at every opportunity he got, whether it be holding your hand while you were reading or giving you an endless back hug while you were cooking- and you’d be lying if you were to say that was not your favourite kind of Jongho. The kind of Jongho you got to be with on your wedding night, chuckling at the sound of him whining about how he still couldn’t believe this was true and you being you, you never let a single moment go to waste, teasing him about his clinginess whilst clinging back to your baby bear.
“Missed me Jjong?” Your sleep lusted voice tickled his ears, causing him to huff out in annoyance, causing the bed to tremor, the blanket being pulled up against you as he shifted, turning you around, much to your pleasure, and squeezing you closer. You chuckled at his childish antics, hugging him back, tucking your head under his chin, your hand pressed against his chest, feeling his warm, beating heart, “I missed you too baby bear…” with that you closed your eyes, it was difficult not to when he was so warm, so comfortable, so tender with you.
Jongho glanced down to find your smiling face, it was funny how you were asleep, causing him to let out a sigh of relief. He knew the next morning he’d wake up to you nagging at him, yes, you had told him doing overtime would just tire him out more and he had ignored you, claiming you didn’t know any better. Incorrect, you knew too much for your own good, you knew him too much for his own good- and it terrified him, it terrified him how you could read through his facade of macho-ness, understand how he was feeling by just the way he breathed, sense his insecurities by the simplest of touches. Worse of all, you figured out how he preferred lounging around with you rather than going to work.
Gently wrapping his fingers around your wrist he pulled your arm across his chest to have you hug him as he did the same with his arm, subconsciously giving you a light squeeze, before burying his nose in your hair, taking in the familiar scent of your shampoo, calming down his nerves, simultaneously having his heart slam against his chest like a machine gun, somewhat afraid that the thumping would wake you up- little did baby bear know that the melody of his tender heart and warmth of his caring being was lulling you to a deeper, more peaceful state of sleep you’ve ever experienced.
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