#been looking at this for the last thirty minutes and just started crying love that for me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

patchiko · 9 months ago

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Sorry 🌻 again 🪦

Wait! You’re requests are open I thought they were closed haha 😂

Soooo like 👉👈 IF… IF it would be possible … to praise AK Jason until he’s cryin 👀 and holding one another in the afterglow 🫣

(Also would he cuddle after sex. My first thought was that maybe he wouldn’t at first cause he’s overstimulated but the fact that he would let reader get close enough to have sex has me saying otherwise 🤔 ANYWAY thxxx ❤️ )

yes. yes 🌻 anon. yes.

MID WRITING THIS. NEW REVALUATION THAT JASON TODD LOVES BEING EDGED!! I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL!!

Post writing this, this is for all my people who want to see big ass men turning into a puddle while gettin’ fucked. i don’t completely know what this sentence means but its up for interpretation

Ak!Jason Todd & Crying During Sex (+aftercare)

(detailed smut, m!crying during sex, m receiving, edging, teasing, praise, praise, and more praise, m!overstimulation, cumming in hole, aftercare, FINE HE’S KINDA SUBBY HERE. )

OK POST WRITING THIS IS VERY SELF INDULGENT. i love my wife ak!jason todd.

Jasons back is against the bed his strong arms propping his upper body up to watch you. He’s glazed with sweat, eyes blown out watching you slip your hand up and down the shaft of his cock while you suck the tip of his cock; Jasons hips tense, he turns his head to the side and bites his bottom lip harshly drowning out his own moans. A rush of warm pleasure rippled down from his abdomen to his dick, letting out slurred strings of curses while he harshly grips your bed sheets. Before he could cum you stop and pull away, his head drops back at the sudden cold sensation of air around his hot throbbing cock. He’s huffing out deep breaths,”Fuck,, fuck.. do that…do that again.” His voice cracked while he spoke, messily wiping sweat from his face.

You two had been going at this for around thirty minutes every edge leaving him more of a sloppy mess then the last.

“You sure?” You asked, making sure that you weren’t overwhelming him, though still teasing at him by letting your warm breath skim his dick.

“Mhm… please.” Jason looked back down at you “One more time..” his ragged voice trailed off into soft breaths, still coming down from the last high. Your lips started pecking back around his thighs, trailing back up to his dick. You made your way up to one of his veins, slowly parting your lips to lap at it, winning a few sharp breaths out of him before trailing back to his tip. You enveloped him in your mouth and slowly sucked him off again. Out of the corner of your eye you could see his jaw drop and felt his dick twitch ,”Wait, wait, wait.” He frantically stopped you before he could cum. “Oh shit.. oh… fuck.” He quietly cursed to himself his hushed moans managing to slip past his lips.

Focusing your gaze on his blissed out state. “You okay pretty boy?” You cooed to him, Jasons gaze darted to you. you could’ve sworn his skin flush harder then it already was.

“Mmh— Yeah, just.. give me a second.” He croaked out, still trying to maintain his breathing. Mind wandering lost in his blurred pleasure. “Can you ride me?” He asked, his sharp blue eyes hazily pouring into yours.

“Are you sure? It could be a bit much-“

“-Yes.” He replied quickly, his pride bit away him, ushering out that response.

You nod and positioned your body above him, looking down at him to make sure he nodded. You sink down to his hard length and, letting out soft gasps at the feeling of his thick pulsating dick. Jasons hands shot to grip your hips and he shuddered as your warmth enveloped him. He started letting out choked out sounds and rapid breaths, his body slipped back onto your bed. “Is it too much Jason?” He quickly shook his head ‘No.’ His breathing barely slowed. You splayed your hands against his chest leaning in to kiss at his neck, purring in his ear ”Doin’ so good Jason. Love you so much.” He could’ve came from that alone.

“Start.” He choked out, a few more moments of your silky hole and praise could’ve made him cum on its own but he wanted more.

“Are you—“

“—Yes…Please. ” His eyes shot to you, full of lust and a smidge of greed he begged. He wanted more of you.

You cupped his cheek in your hand and kissed his face softly in acknowledgment. You put both your hands on his chest and started bouncing yourself on him pacing yourself faster overtime, your lewd sounds were quiet compared to the strangled pornish moans he let out. “Thats it, been workin’ so hard Jay.” you murmured to him. Cursing with each sensation of your wet skin slapping into his and the sweet praise throughout it, overwhelming feeling of pleasure shot to his dick, he just couldn’t last long like this. “Mh- ohfuck,, oh god,, fuck—“ His skin started to prickle, Jasons body tensed and his jaw slowly dropped into that pretty O shape while threw his head back and sobbed. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, his body trembled underneath you with every thick pulse of cum that came from his cock, stiffly managing to buck his hips up into your warm hole. Tears prickled from his eyes as you rocked against him through his orgasm, streaming down across his red cheeks. You praised him throughout it, ‘Just like that Jason, tell me if you want me to stop.’ ‘Look so good.’ He couldn’t stop himself from moaning and leaving nail marks on your hips in his fucked out state.

You slowed down your hips, almost stopping before Jason rolled his head back toward you, ”Keep going, faster,, again,, mmh.. mhh..” His mind was foggy, his speech was slurred and his voice was treble. “-Tell you when to stop. I’ll— oh fuck...” He was already overstimulated, not wanting to cause him pain you slowly picked up your pace until stopping at something that had him most comfortable. He continued to watch you bounce on him, letting out choked out moans and sobs. You leaned back down and started kissing him while wiping away his tears, continuing your murmurs of praise. He pressed his hand to the back of your hand while you made out with him. Pulling away to get air, ”Such a good boy.” slipped from your lips. He sloppily murmured ‘I love you’s’ against your lips. Jasons grip on your hips tightened he rolled his head back again. Definitely not lasting as long as last time, Jason started sharply panting, incoherently babbling and whining underneath you. Only acknowledgeable thing leaving his lips being, “Dont stop—M’ cumming, m’ cumming.” His body jerked and he arched his pelvis into you, Jason spilled a second load into you. He sobbed out in pleasure for the last time before his body limply sunk back into your mattress. Sweat and tears beading down his face, eyes shut tightly, whimpers leaving his chapped lips, he was such a pretty sight.

“All done?” You said, tenderly raking his hair from his face. All he could do was nod. You pulled off his dick with a moan exchanged between you two, and pecked at his lips. Wiping away the slick line of drool from his mouth before he could. He wraps his arms around you, tilting your face so he can kiss your forehead. You shuffle into a more comfortable position and start playing with his raven locs of hair.

Basking in the afterglow of it, his mind was blank, he took in the sensation of your soft skin against his and matches his breathing to yours.

“Think a pizza place is open?” You ask quietly,” It’s Gotham, there’s always a fast-food place open.” He snickered, pecking a kiss to your nose.

This is just one of those nights where he is reminded of how much he wants to live in your arms. Where for just a few moments he could forget about everything, where the sensation of you becomes the only thing that really fills his mind. The kind of night where he’d love to see you fuck up an entire box of pizza by yourself. The kind of night where trusts himself with you more then anything.

M’ SORRY THIS GOT SO SELF INDULGENT.

I NEED TO MAKE VIRGIN!AK JAY HAVE THE BEST NUT OF HIS LIFE AND BECOME A WHINING MESS WHILE HES BEGGING FOR MORE.

ITS A NEED.

#arkham knight x reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight smut #jason todd smut #red hood smut #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x you #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x you #|| 🪼krash responds to 🌻 anon #|| 🪼krash responds to u

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theemporium · 2 months ago

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[2.7k] two weeks have passed since your life completely crumbled before your eyes. but life goes on for you and charles. it just so happens life brings an unlikely friend swooping in to help too.

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It felt like an olive branch from the universe that Imola was cancelled.

Charles knew he should have been more upset about it, and to some extent he was. Racing was the first love of his life, it was the love he shared with his father and his brothers and his godfather. It was the love that took over his world, his dreams, his ambitions. It was the biggest constant in his life since the day he was born.

And racing in Italy was a kind of special that very few tracks could compete with. It was the heart of the Tifosi, of the fans who supported him for years and years. It was his home away from home, the country that held a part of his heart like Monaco did, along with Monza.

But he couldn’t deny that a huge part of him was relieved that the race wouldn’t go ahead, that he wasn’t expected to go into the paddock with a smile on his face and be swarmed by fans and cameras and whatever else they would throw at Ferrari’s Golden Boy.

He could just hide away in Monaco a bit longer.

It was easy when he was with you, when he had someone who understood his suffering and pain in the same way. But it was also brutal. He didn’t like seeing you upset, seeing you cry or shut down. He didn’t like that he couldn’t take away your pain, and he guessed you most likely felt similarly to him.

Unfortunately for the both of you, there was very little you could do about the matter. The damage was done and now you both had to deal with the aftermath together.

It had been over two weeks since Miami and he felt no better than he did then. On one hand, he was grateful that no one knew his pain beyond the people close to him. The world wasn’t preening or poking into his relationship, they had no idea. They were blissfully unaware like Charles wishes he was.

But on the other hand, it just made everything so much worse. Nobody knew he was suffering. No one knew he was just as broken as you were. No one knew why his smile didn’t seem as genuine when fans stopped him on the street, or why his eyes looked so red and dull, or why he hadn’t even touched his social media—not even to post about landing on the podium back in Miami.

And the people around him who did know were understanding, but even his team were starting to lose their patience and Charles honestly couldn’t blame him.

“What’s this?”

Charles lifted his head from the screen he had been blankly staring at for the last thirty minutes to see his mother enter the room, bags of groceries in each hand. He wordlessly took them from her, smiling a little when she pressed a kiss to his cheek before he began helping her put everything away.

“Val’s plan,” Charles answered, his nose scrunched up in annoyance at your PR manager’s name. “She wants to make sure the whole thing doesn’t look badly on us, if we are seen together without—”

“That’s ridiculous,” Pascale frowned. “She cannot expect you both to avoid each other, not during a time like this.”

“They just want to protect us, maman,” Charles said with a heavy sigh, saying the same words he kept repeating to himself since he opened the email earlier. “The last thing she needs right now is for people to think she’s moved on from Pierre and using me and—”

“Oh, mon amour,” Pascale sighed as she closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her son and squeezing tightly until his head dropped to her shoulder. “You shouldn’t be worrying about things like this, not right now. You should be together, leaning on each other, planning on how to cut off that putain’s—”

“Maman,” he chastised but his lips were twitching at the protectiveness in her voice. It was comforting, in a weird way. Not that he ever thought his mother would be on Pierre’s side, not for a single second. But he had known him for just as long as Charles had, it eased something that she was just as angry as he was (even if he couldn’t quite show it just yet).

“They shouldn’t be sending your fifty page documents on how to hide your relationship,” Pascale insisted, lifting her chin. “Relationships are human occurrences that require human reactions. Not whatever is in that file.”

Charles smiled sadly. “They just want to protect us, just like you do.”

“I’m your mother, I know best,” Pascale said, but the slightly teasing tilt in her words broke whatever serious facade she was trying to hold onto.

“Of course, maman,” he hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“And as your mother, I demand you stay for dinner,” Pascale said with a knowing look. “You’re getting thin.”

“I am watching my weight—” But his mouth quickly snapped shut when his mother levelled him with a glare. “Fine, fine. I’ll stay.”

“Good,” Pascale smiled, pleased with herself. “You both need a home cooked meal made with love. God knows she won’t be getting it from your cooking skills.”

Charles frowned. “Hey!”

“Like I said, mother knows best!”

...

You had initially found out from your doorman that Pierre had finally returned to your shared apartment in Monaco.

Pablo was a kind and caring man, somewhere in his seventies and proud of the job he had in the apartment complex. He was sweet and talkative, always there to chat away with you on the days where you’d be returning to an empty home. He tended to look out for you, whether that was because he was genuinely a kind person or because your father had somewhat asked him to do so, but you always appreciated the man and the texts he would send you.

He never used his phone often, and very rarely did he message you when you saw him almost daily. It was usually only reserved to message about a parcel or to relay a message to your boyfriends about the race.

And you knew the man didn’t use social media. You knew he probably had no idea what happened between you, Charles and Pierre. But something about his message made you believe he caught on to something being wrong, that he seemed to realise something was different when you and Charles had yet to return home in the last few days despite being in the country, and Pierre showed up alone.

The only issue was that despite knowing very well that Pierre was in the apartment and spending the last two weeks itching to finally see his face and give him a peace of your mind, you couldn’t even bring yourself to get out of your car.

You had arrived over forty minutes ago, determination and anger fuelling you after you left the meeting with your team. And yet, the second you pulled into the parking spot across from the apartment complex, the fight completely left you and you were left staring at your steering wheel with a mixed look of apprehension and uneasiness.

It was stupid. So fucking stupid.

Once upon a time, Pierre Gasly was one of the few people in the world that you felt safe around. He saw you for you, he was the one who made you feel comfortable and accepted and loved. He was someone you saw yourself spending the rest of your life with.

And now, the mere idea of coming face to face with him made your skin scrawl and your stomach twist to the point you were surprised you hadn’t brought up your lunch.

A part of you wished Charles was with you. The other part of you was glad he wasn’t here.

You were so lost in your own thoughts, in your spiral about what the fuck he was doing up there that he hadn’t even tried to contact either of you, that you didn’t notice the person approaching your car until he was knocking on your window.

You jumped as you let out a scream, your hand placed over your pounding heart as you turned to find Max Verstappen smiling sheepishly.

“Sorry,” he said through the window, looking genuinely embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s fine,” you smiled awkwardly before nodding towards the passenger seat. “Here, just—”

Max seemed to accept your offer, rounding the car and slipping into the passenger seat with a warm smile. His eyes focused on your face, seeming to contemplate what he was about to say but you opened your mouth before he could.

“If I look shit, lie to me,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“You don’t look shit,” Max said, his voice blunt and honest like it always was. “You just looked…lost.”

Your lips twitched. “Lost?”

“Lost,” he said with a nod. “Monaco isn’t that big so I hardly imagine you need directions but I thought I would offer some help.”

You smiled a little at his offer before nodding towards the building across the street. “That’s my apartment.”

“Oh,” Max said.

“The apartment I share with Pierre, who is currently upstairs and who hasn’t spoken a single word to me or Charles since Miami,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“Oh,” Max repeated, but it sounded more understanding now.

“Yeah,” you said because you couldn’t quite bring yourself to say anything else.

“Were you going to talk to him?” Max questioned, genuinely just curious. The ‘alone’ part went unsaid.

“I don’t know,” you confessed, letting out a heavy sigh. “I just drove and I thought I would know by the time I got here but…here we are.”

Max hummed, nodding.

You leaned your head back against your seat, a voice in the back of your head telling you to keep your mouth shut, to stop dumping your problems onto the boy next to you but you couldn’t seem to stop once you started.

“He just went completely off the grid for two weeks and didn’t say a word. And now he’s here and he’s probably going to stay there until the next race and I don’t even know what the fuck I’m supposed to do because that was meant to be our place. But I don’t want to stay there and neither does Charles and Val doesn’t want us to publicly look for new places because of the fucking scandals and—”

“You can move in with me.”

The car fell silent.

“What?”

“I just mean,” Max cleared his throat, a light blush painted over his cheeks. “If you need a place to stay and keep a low profile. My apartment building is pretty good at keeping annoying journalists away and it gives you time to find a new place. I think I know better than most how busy your schedules are.”

You swallowed back the emotions thick in the back of your throat. “You’d really do that?”

“Yeah,” Max smiled softly. “That’s what friends are for?”

“We are friends?” You asked before you could stop yourself.

“Ouch,” he replied but his lips were twitching upwards. “I’ve known you for, what? Ten? Fifteen years? Don’t tell me I’m just a glorified stranger to you.”

“No, I–” You huffed out a laugh. “I’m just surprised, that’s all. You don’t owe us anything, let alone a place to stay. We could’ve stayed with my dad—”

“In Switzerland?” Max pointed out.

“Or Charles’ mother,” you said, pressing your lips to bite back your smile when Max gave you a knowing look.

“It sucks to be cheated on,” he said, and you almost flinched at how bluntly he said it. How easily he said the words that you were still in denial over. “And I know how lonely it can be, even if there’s someone else. You’re both suffering and,” he paused as he shrugged. “I’ve known you both the longest in the paddock. I want to help. I wouldn’t have offered it if I didn’t mean it.”

“Thank you, Max,” you whispered softly, reaching over to squeeze his hand. “It won’t be long. Probably just a week or two so we can get our stuff in storage and find a place after the Monaco Grand Prix because it will be too hectic—”

“Don’t worry about it,” Max smiled, squeezing your hand back. “Like I said, that’s what friends are for.”

“Friends,” you repeated with a smile.

...

“That’s very nice of Max.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“Did you want me to say it wasn’t nice of him to offer you and Charles to move in?”

“I expected something more than five words,” you retorted, already able to imagine the smile on your father’s face even if you couldn’t see it right now. “He has no reason to do this for us. I’m just surprised.”

“He’s your friend, no?”

“Apparently everyone got that memo except me,” you murmured, your brows furrowing in concentration as you continued to attempt squishing your shoes into one box. “I think I have said a total of fifty words to him.”

“Are you okay, though? Moving in with Max? Moving out of your apartment?”

You let out a sigh, the concern in your father’s voice was comforting and sweet. But you were tired of hearing the same question from so many people in your life, mostly because you didn’t know what the answer was.

No, you weren’t okay that your boyfriend cheated on you. No, you weren’t okay at the fact you now had to move out of the place you called home for the last year or so. No, you weren’t okay with the fact that everything felt so unsure and unstable in your life right now. No, you weren’t okay at the fact Charles was hurting just as much as you were but he seemed adamant to hide how he felt, to act strong in front of you like you didn’t hear him crying in the shower or when he thought you had fallen asleep.

No, you weren’t okay.

But that wasn’t the answer people wanted to hear. And it wasn’t the answer you wanted to give people. You didn’t want more people worrying over you anymore than they already were.

“I’m okay,” you said to your father, the lie leaving an acidic taste in your mouth. “Plus, Max has cats. You never let me get one when I was younger.”

Sebastian snorted. “You loved the fish I got you though.”

“Until the cleaner accidentally flushed Mr Bubbles down the toilet,” you reminded, your lips twitching at the boisterous laugh your father let out at the memory. “May he rest in peace.”

“I am sure he is alive and well in the ocean somewhere.”

You shook your head in amusement.

“I was thinking of flying out for the next race,” Sebastian said, so casually like you didn’t know the implications behind his words. Like you didn’t know he had probably conspired with Pascale to fly out as soon as he could. “I miss the track.”

“Mhm,” you hummed knowingly. “You don’t have to—”

“I do,” he said, simply and bluntly. “I want to see you. Both of you. And I do miss the track.”

“Shouldn’t have retired, old man,” you murmured, but something in your chest warmed at the thought of having your father nearby again. You left Switzerland so quickly after the pictures dropped, even when a part of you desired to stay in the farmhouse, far away from everyone and everything for the rest of your life. “The track misses you too.”

“You’re going to make me do a Fernando and come out of retirement.”

You snorted. “The people would be thanking me.”

“Hm, we will see.”

“Charles will be happy to see you too,” you told your father. “I think he needs you here as much as I do.”

“I’m there for you both, always.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, even if he couldn’t see it. “I still need to finish up these last few boxes before the moving van comes. But I’ll call you later, okay?”

“I love you, honigbiene.”

“I love you too, Papa.”

You were thankful the apartment was completely empty the second the call disconnected, sobs leaving your mouth before you could even stop yourself. You weren’t okay. Far from it. And you weren’t sure you would ever be properly okay again.

But you were a Vettel and you would persevere, even if it killed you a little bit inside.

...

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darnell-la · 3 months ago

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𝗔 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗧𝗔𝗬 (ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ)

pairing: the worst!logan howlett x wade’s goddaughter!reader

warning: ghosted, crying, mention of alcohol, Wade getting mad, fighting another mutant, SEXUAL ASSAULT, etc.

summary: Logan tried ignoring y/n, afraid something would happen to her like the rest of the people he cared about. That was until Wade told him about the man she was afraid of. The man who would do anything to hurt her.

After seeing the sight before him when he went to get y/n, he was crushed. That man needed to die, and Logan was going to make that happen.

follow our Instagram @ darnell.la so we can start posting random videos, photos, edits, and memes of the people we write about!

———

Logan has been away for thirty minutes, thinking about what he just got himself into, and what he’s gotten y/n into.

He truly believes that he is cursed and there’s no saving him. Even if he was cursed, it was just the devil's luck that everyone he loved died. Karma is also on the way for what he’s done.

He didn’t want you y/n to know what kind of person he was, even though that was just a one-time thing. He didn’t mean it, but he was just so angry. They killed his family, and he wasn’t just going to walk away.

Logan slowly got out of bed so he wouldn’t wake y/n up. He wanted her to get a good rest before she started her day.

Logan looked around the room until he found a mirror. He slowly walked up to it, getting a look of himself. He hasn’t looked at himself in the mirror since that day. He couldn’t deal with it.

He scanned his body, surprised at the work he’s got on him, even though he hadn’t gone to work until Wade picked him up.

The man smiled to himself, feeling great that he could look good for someone like someone. At her age, she might not want a sloppy Joe. She’d want a Logan Howlett, old but can fuck her on the wall.

The man soon stopped himself, feeling like he was smiling too early. What if y/n just wanted a one-night stand? What if the Wolverine she was crushing on is way different than him?

Does he deserve to settle down? Would the people's family members he’s killed accept this? Would you accept what he did?

Logan’s thoughts were all over the place. He could stay here. The man quickly put his clothes back on and left, making sure she didn’t wake up to the sight of him leaving.

A couple hours later, y/n woke up. She had almost forgotten what happened last night until she felt the dent right next to her, in her mattress.

Y/n smiled to herself, already missing his presence. He was so good at what he did. She felt safer than she’d ever felt. He truly is a hero.

It’s been a week since Logan has talked to y/n. Wade had given him a flip phone a few days ago with his hand y/n’s number in it for emergency contact, but he never reached out. Y/n did, but he hung up. He didn’t ignore it, he hung up.

Every day when y/n woke up, she looked straight at her phone, hoping Logan had texted or something, but he never did. Her smiles always faded and stayed faded for the rest of the day.

“Are you going to Max’s party tonight or no? I know you two don’t really — get along,” Y/n’s friend asked after she sat down at the cafeteria table she always sits at.

“Don’t want to, but I might have to,” she said, knowing Max would text her about it later today. “Why have to?” Carla, her friend asked, making y/n snap out of her memories of her and him.

“Oh, nothing, just- Because I want to party,” y/n switched how she presented herself so she wouldn't alarm her friend. She didn’t want anyone to worry. This was her problem. No one else.

Skip to the nighttime, y/n had gotten a text from Max, demanding her to show up at the party. She wanted to argue and tell him she was not coming, but she knew what would happen if she didn’t.

She’s exposed her, and while he did, he’d take whatever else he wanted from her. He was evil, but she was the only one who knew that.

As y/n got dressed, she got a call. She jumped on her bed to see who it was, hoping it was Logan, but it wasn’t. It was Wade. “Fuckin’ hell,” she sighed.

“What, Wade?” Y/n asked, annoyed. “So, how have you been?” Wade asked, starting a boring conversation, so y/n put him on speaker and continued. “Same old, Wade. What do you want?” She asked, making him giggle.

“Wanted to ask how you and Logan get along. Kinda needa make him some new friend, ain’t that right, peanut?” Wade talked to the man like a puppy.

“Wait, he’s with you? A-Are you on speaker?” She asked, feeling her heart pound. “No, of course not. Privacy matters,” the man spoke as he winked at Logan, totally on speaker.

“Oh, well — I don’t think me and him are going to work. Like friend wise,” y/n said. She wanted to be more than friends, but he ghosted her after they had sex. The best sex she’s had in her life. She can’t put that all behind her.

“What!? Why!?” He asked as Logan stood up quickly, wanting to say something, but Wade stopped him. “I-I don’t know,” y/n lied and Wade knew it. He hoped the man didn’t yell at her or make her cry.

“Look- I gotta go to a party, so, uh, please just- Don’t try to fix my life,” y/n said. “What are you talking about? Wait- Are you going over to his house again!? Y/n, we talked about this,” Wade got serious, and Logan has never seen that from him.

“You know him, Wade. I-If I don’t go, he’ll tell everyone and then I can’t live a normal life. That’s all I want. A normal life,” y/n’s eyes began to burn.

“It’s 2024, y/n — People will accept-“ Wade tried saying. “No, they won’t!” She yelled. Wade could hear the change in her tone, so he let it go. “I-I’ll call later,” she said before she hung up.

“The fuck was that about?” Logan asked. “It’s a long story that I can’t tell,” Wade said as he leaned back on the couch. “What!? But you had her on speaker when you told her she wasn’t. What’s the big deal about telling me when she’s not even here?”

“Look- It’s different, peanut. My baby girl has been through a lot, and it’s not to easy make this guy go away,” Wade grabbed the remote to his TV to turn it on and watch some kind of cartoon.

“Woah, and — The fuck did you do to make her not wanna be friends? God, you’re so fuckin’ hard to deal with. Always lashing out like the big ole beast you are,” Wade rolled his eyes.

“I didn’t do anything — I just left before I could hurt her,” he said. “What?” Wade looked up at the man who was standing in front of him. He was confused until it finally dinged in his head.

“Y’all fucked!?” Wade jumped on his couch as he shouted. “Oh god,” Logan rolled his eyes as he walked back to the small couch he’s always on and flopped down.

“You do! You dirty little gribble. God fuckin- Fuck! You’re a fuckin’ dumbass,” Wade couldn’t stop rambling. “Heard that before,” Logan said as he grabbed his half-empty beer before chugging it down, thinking about how much of an asshole he is.

“You can’t just fuck a girl- Especially a college girl, then leave! You like- Dude, you broke her heart!” Wade grabbed his head, stressed that Logan could fuck up this bad.

“Well, clearly I didn’t even she was heading over to another man’s house that she’s clearly not supposed to be with,” he was jealous. Once she mentioned a dude, Logan’s blood boiled. She moved on so fast.

“You dumb bitch — He’s abusive! He’s making her go over there!” Wade yelled at the man. “What?” Logan asked as he placed his bottle down. “Why would she go over there if he’s abusive?”

“Oh, well maybe because he’s a mutant, and would kill her if she didn’t. Or expose her which I think she’d rather die than let people know she’s one too,” Wade said then covered his mouth. He fucked up.

“She’s a mutant?” Logan asked with a soft voice. One of his worries was that she’d never understand him, or die years before he would somehow grow old.

“Fuck it, let’s go. I got the Wolverine now so we have a ninety-nine point ninety percent of winning, but that point 1 percent can fuck us,”

Wade and Logan quickly rushed out of the apartment and rushed over to Max’s house, not knowing there was going to be a huge party.

“Who the fuck is this kid?” Logan asked as they got out of Wade’s car. “He ain’t no kid — Bro has been awhile for almost as long as you. He just looks like he’s in his late twenties,”

“He’s a strong mutant or what?” Logan asked, not really caring what he was. He was still going to kill him for doing the things Wade told him he’d done. He’s sick.

Wade told the story of how y/n came back up bleeding everywhere. Even from her legs. The sick man has been trying to trap her with kids for the past couple of years after he found out she was a mutant himself.

He wanted to rule, and he needed a family to do that. Y/n was one of the strongest mutants he’s seen, and he’s one of the strongest mutants Y/n has seen. She’s too afraid to fight him. He made sure of that.

“You call y/n?” Logan asked as he pulled his flip phone out. “Yeah, but she’s not answering,” Wade said as the two walked towards the home and inside, ears instantly ringing from how loud the music was. “She ain’t answering me either,” Logan said.

Y/n was currently in Max’s room, laid out and drugged. Some days he’d want a fight while the others, he just wanted it to be relaxing.

Y/n could barely move, but she could see everything clearly. Even though her head was spinning, she could see Logan calling her phone.

It was so close. Her hands were so close to it, but her body was weak.

“Who’s this?” Max asked as he picked up her phone, making her sigh. “Hm?” he turned the phone to her face, showing the calling picture being Logan when he was knocked out the night that had sex.

“No one,” y/n got out with a struggle. “No one, huh? Well, that looks like the Wolverine, and last time I checked, he died,” Max said before he hung up and tossed her phone to the side.

“Don’t make me ask again, y/n,” Max threatened as he looked down at her. “N-No one,” she said, not wanting to put Logan in danger after he clearly wanted nothing to do with her.

Max laughed low as he took his shirt off and leaned over her body, his waist coming up and between her legs to spread her enough for him.

“Once I find out who he is, I’m going to kill him — Slowly,” Max added as her head moved side to side, begging him not to. “And I see he’s shirtless — On your sheets, so I’m going to do all of it in front of you while I show him who you belong,”

Y/n sobbed at the thought of him hurting someone because of her, again. He was evil.

“She’s not down here,” Logan said, feeling his heart raise. “Upstairs,” Wade spoke before running up the stairs to search every single room. The house was big, but that was their least concern.

“Always so tight for me. You sure you don’t want this? If you just give in, we could have a perfect and happy family,” he was insane, and she wanted no part of it.

“Y/n!” Logan’s voice could be heard down the hall. Max looked up, knowing he’d heard that voice before. “Y/n!?” He yelled again, making Max look down at her with a smirk.

“So, that is the Wolverine? Fuuck, y/n — You really outdid yourself. You think getting with another mutant will keep him alive?” Max slapped the girl across her face before pulling out and throwing her off of his bed.

Y/n struggled but moved her panties back in place before curling up on the floor. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She couldn’t watch.

Max fixed himself up and looked at the door, waiting for it to burst open until it did. There he was — with a friend.

“Deadpool and the Wolverine — Well, isn’t this new,” Max said, but Logan wasn’t focused on him. The man was looking around for y/n until his eyes landed on her. She was in her bra and panties. What Wade said was right…

“You young son of a bitch,” Logan had charged at him, and though Max hasn’t gone against a mutant like Logan, he was lasting a long time. A little too long which scared y/n.

“Let’s get outta here,” Wade picked y/n up to her feet but she instantly fell down. “Fuck- Did he drug you?” He asked and earned a nod. “Fuck!” He said, about to pick her up until he was tackled.

Logan was on the ground, head spinning from the beating he just took from Max, but he wasn’t done. Logan went to charge at the man with his claws out until he saw y/n, still laid out on the floor.

“Y/n?” Logan ran up to the girl, quickly trying to pull her up. “We need to go,” he said but noticed her body was slumped. “He fuckin’ drugged you?” Logan asked, earning a nod just like Wade.

It took everything for Logan not to attack Max. He had other things to do, and Wade handled Max just fine for now with his jokes and fake yells.

Logan was able to sneak out without Max noticing. Some people at the party looked at the man carrying her but paid no attention to it. They only double-checked because she was half-naked.

He made it out of the party and into Wade’s car. He was thinking about driving off until Wade was thrown through the third-floor glass, right next to the car.

“God- Fuck! Fuck, that motherfuckers strong,” Wade groaned as he got up, cracking his leg and arms back in the right spot. He looked to the side to see Logan and y/n lying in the back of his car.

“Get on the car motherfucker!” Logan yelled on the driver's side right before Wade jumped through the passenger side window that was rolled down.

As Logan stomped on the metal and took off, he looked back seeing Max standing in his room that he threw Wade out of.

Y/n was currently sound asleep next to Logan. They’re back at Wade’s apartment. Logan had taken her to bed so she could rest. She didn’t need to go to school tomorrow. He didn’t want her out anywhere until they dealt with Max.

“Next time we see him, we end him,” Logan said, laying on his bed and looking up at Wade who was standing in the door frame. Wade came to say the same. Y/n didn’t need to live a life like this just to be normal.

“All he is, is you without the claws. He regenerates, is fast, grunts a lot, and growls,” Wade had to say something funny. “If we give him around all, we’ve got a chance,”

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴏɴᴇ

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dearhargrove · 8 months ago

Text

thirty feet under

Evan Buckley x reader

summary The last thing you expected to see on the news tonight is Eddie trapped under 30 feet of mud with your husband desperately trying to get him out. Knowing how reckless he could get, you drive there after informing Bobby and have a talk with Buck.

word count 4734

tags basically s3 e15, reader and Buck are married, fluff, and hurt :<

a/n I dunno I was just sad watching that episode like the way Buck was immediately trying to dig Eddie up? I'm crying actually. I love these two fr. Yeah wtv I just needed to write something where Buck isn't suffering lmao 😭

masterlist

You've been following the news ever since you first saw that the 118 was at the scene of the small boy trapped in the well. You had nothing better to do, and if you had the chance to watch your husband work? You took it.

What you weren't expecting almost an hour ago was the drastic changes and complications arising as they tried getting Hayden - the trapped boy - out.

The obnoxious news reporter is talking about the weather and what's happening but you've stopped listening long ago. Your eyes were transfixed onto the background where Eddie was getting ready to go down the second tunnel they'd made in order to reach the boy safely.

However, something wasn't right. You don't know if it's Hen’s nervous expression or the overall unease of the team that carries through the screen, but something feels off.

You bury your hands in your hair as you continue to watch. The rain is pouring hard, the mud seems to be making everything worse and there were more firefighters arriving at the scene by the minute.

You're basically praying when the cameraman zoomes past the news reporter and onto Eddie as he's being let down into the hole. Evan is behind the winch, brows furrowed. You could see it on his face too; noone in the team seemed to be happy with this.

Considering they were letting one of their own down a 30 foot drop without fully knowing how stable the ground was, you understood.

For the first time since the broadcast started the blonde is quiet, microphone held at her chest as she watches and waits to see what's going to happen.

You're quite literally on the edge of your seat, knees pressing into the couch table as your hands press together anxiously. You trusted Bobby. He would never allow a plan to go through if it wasn't thoroughly planned and ensured at least a certain amount of safety to his team.

Nevertheless, your eyes move to Buck. He's clenching the remote control of the winch so tight in his hands you're sure if the material weren't as slippery from the rain he would've broken it. He doesn't just look stressed anymore but anxious.

That's a look you don't see often; he's confident and stubborn (arguably stupid and reckless). If he does something he commits to it and he's sure of it. But right now? He's the opposite. Bobby has a hand on his shoulder and you're thankful for his sensitivity to Buck’s feelings, the silent comforting visibly (to you - who could read Evan like an open book) helping him.

“Come on,” you chant under your breath as minutes pass. How could this be taking so long? Wasn't there a limited amount of time Eddie could be down there? You're sure he was wearing an oxygen tank and you remember Evan talking about the limited time that posed.

“And what is that- the rope has seemingly snapped! Neither the boy or the firefighter of the 118 is back up,” the news reporter is almost yelling now and you're thankful for her awful screeching voice as it had made you listen to what she's saying.

Wait. Did she say the rope snapped?

You frown and stand up, unable to keep sitting as you spot Evan’s devastated look as he discusses something with Chim. Oh goodness. This isn't happening. Why is the rope the only thing coming back up?

“The weather is getting worse as the firefighters decide to send down a second one, hoping this time the rope works. We're expecting a thunderstorm and the rain will continue-” you blend her out again as you see Chimney now in Eddie's spot.

“Jesus,” you mumble. He's down in a second, everyone moving even faster than before. Evan had his fists stemmed on his hip, watching the descent of his friend. Knowing him as well as you did, you're almost one hundred percent sure Buck had discussed going down instead - no doubt being shut down by either Hen or Bobby.

You couldn't help but feel glad he hadn't been the one as you could continue keeping your eyes on him.

It's Bobby's eyes which widen first, jaw dropping. Next follow Hen and lastly Evan. There, secured on the rope is Chim with a tiny boy wrapped in some kind of foil that would help him get his body temperature up again. His mother is crying as she welcomes him back into her arms, your lips quirking into a smile at the wholesome scene.

Now only Eddie was missing.

The 118 was discussing something in the back when you decide to text Bobby, seeing Evan being reprimanded by said man.

I'll come over and stay out of the way - just gotta make sure Buck does nothing too stupid…

You text the captain and receive a thumbs up emoji a moment later. You grab your phone, keys and wallet before hurrying to your car and driving there.

When you arrive your glad for the raincoat you'd picked, pulling it tight around your body as you try finding a spot where you wouldn't be in anyone's way.

You find it soon enough, and the first thing you notice is something akin to an argument breaking out between Hen and your husband. You sigh and hope he wouldn't do anything reckless, because by God that was his specialty. Bobby pats his shoulder more aggressively than necessary and points in your direction.

Buck turns around and when he spots you his face practically melts; excusing himself as he jogs over to the fence you'd decided to stand.

“How is it going? Where is Eddie?” You ask almost immediately and Evan sighs heavily before frowning again. You press your thumb against his forehead and smooth out the worry wrinkles, him already so used to the gesture he barely notices.

“He's- he's trapped. He cut his rope for some reason and we can't reach him over the radio. We're sending someone else down to see what happened down there.”

You curse and slide your hand to rest on his cheek. His skin is cold and wet from the rain and you're certain he caught a cold by now.

“You're not going,” you say. It's a question and demand at the same time; you trust him to do the right thing but he easily becomes reckless. He didn't like when you pointed it out, but it was true. It had gotten you two into an argument more than a handful of times but he never ceased to be stubborn when on a call.

“What do you mean? Of course I'm going, Eddie's down there!” He huffs and stiffens, leaning away from your hand on his face in the same notion. “Evan,” you start and he looks up from his feet and into your eyes, the pleading look in his eyes making you melt a little.

“I know you're capable of doing this but-”

“No! I'm capable so why shouldn't I?” He interrupts and you unhappily note the reporter approaching. You glare at him before putting on a fake smile when the woman stops in front of the two of you.

“Do you have a minute?” She asks and you almost roll your eyes at the flirty tone she regards your husband with.

He smiles shortly and excuses himself, looking at you meaningfully before going back to the rest of his team. She turns to you and before you can escape she starts talking, the camera right in your face. Great. You'd been ready for bed when you decided to drive here (and look accordingly) and now you're on national news.

“How do you know him? What did you talk about? There seemed to be some tension.” She makes an oohing noise and this time you can't contain your eye roll. “I was simply talking to my husband. Now excuse me please,” you see the shocked look on her face and she nervously adjusts her hair before turning back to the camera.

“Evan Buckley!” You say loud enough that not only Bobby but Hen and Chim turn around as well, eyebrows raised in surprise at your presence. The one you actually addressed was currently busy getting into a harness.

You stand behind him, mumbling thanks to Bobby when he steadies you as your feet slip on the mud and wet ground. “What do you think you're doing?”

Buck looks at you over his shoulder, red goggles on his face and similar gear to what Eddie had worn. “My job,” he grunts and you sigh exasperatedly. “I see that, I have two eyes.” Frankly you didn't want to be this upset. He wasn't special as in he should get special treatment; the team risked their lives daily all the same.

But you were scared. You'd seen it many times; he'd get an idea and pull through with it, no matter what anyone says or what the odds are. It simply pisses you off that he never thinks of anyone else.

He acts like no one cares whether he lives or dies and that's what's really bothering you, once again as he is getting ready to go down.

The desperation must be visible on your face because Bobby's comforting hand moves to your shoulder and you exhale and look at him, lips quivering.

“I'm sorry I shouldn't be bothering here, I don't know what came over me.” You apologize and suck up the tears stemming from foreboding fear.

He shakes his head, “It's okay, you know we'll tell you if you're in the way.” You nod and wrap your arms around yourself, ready to at least tell Buck you loved him before he went down.

You flinch at the Crack of the thunder. And then there's white sparks everywhere as the lightning strikes the crane, causing the LED lights to fail and cast everything in darkness. There's screaming and you just barely see Buck unclasping his harness before his arms wrap around your waist and he throws himself backward.

You scream as you cling to his arm, utterly confused until the crane creaks horribly and starts falling. It looks and feels as if it's in slow motion but it gets faster the closer it comes and then it lands on the earth with a loud booming sound.

You heave in shock at the whole thing until Buck let's go of you and runs the few steps to the well.

And that's when you see it. Your face falls and your pulse accelerates when there's not one or two holes but none. Someone to your left yells that the ground collapsed and over the ringing in your ears you see Buck kneeling over the spot as he claws at the mud, screaming in vain.

You whimper when the realization comes that Eddie is still down there. Under pounds if not tons of earth with no way out. You Clasp a hand over your mouth as tears fall down your face. Eddie would make it, you convince yourself in order to calm down enough to think rationally - especially to be there for who needed you most right now.

“Baby, come on, you'll save him but you need to come this isn't safe,” you urge as you tug at Bucks shoulders. He resists, muscles straining as he keeps digging only for every hole he makes to be filled with more mud. “Evan, please,” you cry and he snaps out of it, heavily breathing as he turns around to look at you.

He's crying and you can see the pure desperation and fear replaying on his face. “Inside! We need to discuss plans!” Bobby yells and makes a motion with his hand before all of the remaining 118 hurries after him and into the house.

“Let's go, yeah? They're thinking of a way to find him,” you repeat to your devastated husband. He whimpers and tries to say something as he weakly claws at the earth, you shush him and pull him into your chest, uncaring of the mud and dirt covering you both now.

“He'll be okay. You know Eddie. He would never leave Christopher alone.” he shakily nods and moves his hand to your hips to squeeze them. He knocks his forehead against yours and you can feel his exhaustion as he leans fully onto you.

“Buck you gotta calm down and focus. You can do that, right?” He nods dazedly and you move your hand onto the nape of his neck, cupping it to ground him.

“Eddie needs you. Focus. No stupid or reckless decisions.” He manages a tiny glare at you before he closes his eyes and inhales deeply, opening them when he's ready. There's new determination cursing through him as he stands up and pulls you to stand with him.

The pouring rain sticks his hair onto his forehead and you swear he's the most beautiful person to walk this earth. His blue eyes wander over your face and he seems to find what he was looking for when he presses a tender kiss to your lips, nose and forehead.

“I'm sorry I just- I can't lose him. Chris can't lose him,” he mumbles and you nod in understanding. “Shh, I know.” You keep your hand to cup his face for a moment and then sigh, ushering him towards the house. He frowns and pulls you with him but you smile and shake your head, “I'll go relieve Carla. I haven't seen Chris in a while anyway.”

He nods but is reluctant to let you go, kissing your forehead again and mumbling an ‘I love you’ into your skin. You smile and soothe your thumb over his knuckles, “I love you more. Be careful.” You say the last part with a warning but worried tone and glance at him with a small frown.

He huffs amused and pecks your temple before stepping back and adjusting the hood of your raincoat to sit tightly on your head, “I will be. Tell Chris I said hi and that I want to do a sleepover again.” You laugh and he does too for a second until his eyes and expression dull and the looming threat to Eddie's life moves back to the forefront of his thoughts.

He sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose, mumbling something and then looking up again. He begins to say something when a commotion to the side drowns his voice out. Confused you both turn around and his arm slips around your waist to keep you close - a habit you adored.

“What?” You mumble. The huddle of people clears and in the middle is Eddie - his arms are limply slung over two other firefighters’ shoulders and his head is hanging down. His entire gear is dripping wet as if he'd gone for a swim (well technically he probably did… you note mentally as the positive shock wears off). His helmet and goggles are missing, hair sticking to his forehead and most worryingly his eyes are bloodshot and red, earth and mud dirtying his usually clear skin.

“What..?” Evan breathes out and his arm drops from around you as he runs over to his best friend and carelessly pulls him into a hug. You see Eddie's smile as he rests his head in the crook of Evan's neck, sluggishly moving his arms around the others shoulders to hold himself up. The two men who had helped him hover for a second in case their help was needed again but when Evan keeps clinging to the older they retreat.

Then you feel Hen, Bobby and Chimney rush past you - the two paramedics with their first aid bags. You're unsure whether to put your plan from a moment ago into reality or if you could be of help here when Buck starts dragging Eddie along and over to you.

With a stressed sigh you approach them, stopping a foot in front of them with a warning glance, “You both should get in the ambulance and let these two,” you point to Hen and Chim, “do their job. No wandering around, boys.”

Evan pouts and Eddie manages a chuckle that still clearly showcases how tired out and overall done he is but you welcome it nevertheless. “You're like, way too strict. He basically just drowned,” Evan starts, and both you and Eddie roll your eyes - you in fond annoyance and Eddie in amusement.

“Wow. Why do I always get the attitude?” He huffs and side eyes you as he drags Eddie to the ambulance but not before mouthing another ‘I love you’.

Shaking your head you pull down the hood of your coat and nod at Bobby, signaling him you were going to leave now. He nods and turns back to whatever important duties he had now.

After a last glance into the ambulance (where Buck actually sat still for once) you get your keys and drive off. The drive to Chris and Eddie is only about half an hour and when you get there you still see the light in the kitchen on. This was unusual - normally Carla would just watch some TV with the lights off when she waited until early in the morning for Eddie to come back.

You knock on the front door and wait, the older woman opening the door with a wide smile, “Thought I saw you approach. I saw you on the news, you wanna tell me what that's about, girl?”

You laugh and shake your head, reciprocating the warm hug and stepping into the house. “It's pretty boring. Thought I'd spend the night here today, Eddie will probably not be home tonight or tomorrow…” You solemnly explain and she hums.

“Saw it on the news. And.. for some reason he did too,” she sighs heavily and walks you to the living room. And surely there is Christopher perched on the sofa with a worried little frown on his forehead as he watches the news.

You furrow your brows and nod, “Did he see it all?” She nods again and you understand why the little boy wasn't in bed although it was nearing two in the morning when his usual bedtime is nine thirty.

“Chris? Hey, buddy!” You smile and ruffle his hair. He grins at you in that adorable way and you wave at Carla over his shoulder as she grabs her bag and keys. “You wanna explain why you aren't in bed?” He looks a bit guilty but pouts stubbornly. “I saw dad on the news.”

You didn't really need more explanation - you knew Chris worried for his father in the same manner Eddie was probably currently thinking about his son.

“I saw him too. And you know what?” He looks at you with big but tire, dropping eyes. “He's with some nice doctors now and he's gonna be completely fine again very quickly. Doesn't that sound good?”

He ponders for a moment and then slowly nods, “Buck?” A chuckle escapes you and you grin, “He's fine too.”

“Then why were you angry with him?” He asks and it takes you embarrassingly long to connect the dots. The news reporter seemingly had shown your and Evans little dispute earlier. “I wasn't angry with him he was just being stupid,” you shake your head and explain.

Chris hums and looks back at the news report. You bite your lip in thought and then tilt your head, “Do you want to talk to Buck?” Christopher basically lights up and nods eagerly clasping his hands under his chin as you video call Evan - praying he was still with Eddie and that in a few minutes Christopher would be calmed enough to finally go to bed.

“Baby? Don’t worry I’m fine the doctors just checked me out,” he’s slumped in a hospital chair in a way you know will have him complaining about his neck hurting tomorrow and his eyes are just as droopy and tired as the ones of the boy next to you.

“That’s good. There’s someone who really wants to talk to you.” Chris squeezes into the frame and you chuckle before handing him the phone, watching Bucks face light up as he sees him, “Chris! Hi, bud! What are you still doing up?”

Said boy giggles and starts recounting his evening. You start cleaning up a bit meanwhile, getting everything ready for Chris to go to sleep and for Eddie to return home without going straight to cleaning (because he would and that man really needs to rest for once).

The living room gets suspiciously quiet and you put down the kitchen towel and plate to check up on the two boys. “Chris?” Your heart melts when you see him laying down on the sofa with your phone clutched in your hand, still on the call and showing your husband also napping.

You gently take the phone and put it on the table to briskly talk to Evan after putting Chris to bed. Then you put an arm under his back and the other under his knees to carry him to his room. Luckily Christopher doesn’t wake up and you quickly tuck him in before leaving the room with the door opened a bit.

You turn off the lights except for the small lamp next to the sofa and pull a blanket up to your chin with your phone back in your hand.

“Buck?” He grunts in his sleep and the phone slips from his hand until it’s laying on the hospital bed and you huff a quiet laugh.

“Alright, I love you.” You whisper and hang up, quickly texting him to tell you when Eddie would be back.

The next morning you wake up to someone poking your cheek repeatedly and before remembering where you were you almost turn around and continue sleeping.

Then a small but very much insistent voice calls your name.

You squint your eyes at the light streaming in from the sun, the shadow keeping your eyes from being blinded belongs to Chris. “We need to visit Dad.” He decides in a sure voice. You stretch and sit up, reaching out to gently make him sit down as well.

“Visit him? I don’t know if we can yet I’ll have to ask the doctors…” Chris huffs unhappily and you nod in understanding. “I know, but you’ll see him soon.” Reaching for your phone you stop in your tracks when there’s a thump at the door before two voices can be heard throughout the hallway and into the living room.

Christopher looks at you with a confused look and your nervousness evaporates when you hear an exclaimed curse and another voice scolding him after. Well, that could only be your husband and the only one Chris wanted to see right now.

“Dumb and dumber are here,” you whisper to Chris and he giggles. After Bobby had called them that once Chris had picked it up and now it was kind of an inside joke between him and almost all of the 118 - to the displeasure of the two guys.

He holds his arms out and you pick him up, sneaking to the door to watch as one of them seems to try and get the key to fit into the designated spot.

“Let’s let them in?” The boy in your arms nods and you open the door, staring at Eddie and Evan with raised eyebrows. “You guys should never try robbing someone.”

Bucks jaw drops in offense and you can practically see the rebuttal on his face but he keeps it to himself and simply holds up two plastic bags, “We got breakfast.”

Chris is busy reaching for Eddie who seemed a bit unsteady on his feet but other than visible bruises he looked fine. You smile at him and pat his shoulder as he walks inside, kissing his son's head and gently murmuring about something as you focus on Evan.

“Morning,” you finally greet and lean up for a kiss, Evan gratefully giving you one. He grins down at you and then at the boy in your arms, “Chris! Did you protect her all night?” He asks with an exaggerated voice and you laugh and roll your eyes but take the plastic bags with food from him and pass Chris into his arms.

You leave the two to themselves as you look at Eddie and sigh before hugging him, “You scared us half to death yesterday.” He shrugs and grins “What else would I be doing other than stress you guys out?”

Your jaw momentarily drops and he grins with a shrug and fakes sympathy as he pats your shoulder. You two walk into the kitchen to prepare the food onto plates.

“How are you? Be honest,” you warningly add, fully aware of his habit to minimize his worries and pains same as your husband.

“Sore. Probably added some trauma to the collection.” He jokes and you look at him over your shoulder with a glare that makes him laugh. “No really. I’m fine. Just needed some rest and the bruises will go away with time.”

Nodding, you cross your arms over your chest and catch a glimpse of Buck holding Chris up and pretending to be an airplane. “How is he? He was ready to dig the earth up with his own hands when you got trapped.” You sigh.

Eddie nods and shakes his head, “Yeah, no he was pretty worried. I got quite the lecture when I woke up.” You both laugh at that and then you pass him two plates while taking the other two, “Let’s eat breakfast.”

When you’re home that evening you both are dead tired and yet Buck insists on carrying you up the stairs and helping you change into your pajamas (though you’re sure that was just for his enjoyment).

“I have tomorrow and the day after off. You know what that means? All day in bed,” he grins as he flops down onto the mattress next to you. With a smile you comb your hand through his hair and smooth your thumb along his temple.

“You definitely need to rest.” You agree and he turns his head to look at you, “Nope. I need you. So you better call in sick as long as I’m off.”

You huff at his demanding tone, raise both eyebrows and lean back on your elbows. The mattress and pillows make you groan in comfort as you concentrate your gaze onto him.

He was halfway laying down on his side with his arm propped up under him. He was wearing some black shorts and a dark blue t-shirt that was too tight around his biceps. His eye bags are worse than usual and you can tell since that night Eddie almost died he hasn't been sleeping well. His hair is an adorable mess and you don't refrain from reaching out and gently carding your hand through it.

He hums and closes his eyes with a small smile tugging on his lips. “I'll call in sick,” he perks up and opens his eyes again, a smirk replacing his earlier smile before you interrupt, “But only because I can actually feel that I'm getting a cold and not because you're asking me to.” He pouts and it goes unsaid by either of you that he played a big part in you taking some sick days.

After all, you usually put your health on the back burner, focusing on your job and other things like grocery shopping. Buck had always had a problem with that, lecturing you whenever he came home to see you passed out on the couch with tissues around you and a mountain of blankets keeping him from being able to throw himself on top of you.

“Alright, baby. I'm gonna be Doctor Buckley!” He grins and sits up, dusting off his shoulders and puffing out his chest. The action makes you burst into laughter and you fall on your back. He takes that as an invitation to lean over you and pretend to check your airways and pulse, pressing his ear over your sternum.

“You're so childish,” you comment and he happily ignores you to convert his checking of your breathing to laying on your chest with an arm wound around your waist.

It grows quiet and there's a comfortable atmosphere as you play with his hair while he snoozes on your abdomen.

Maybe you wouldn't mind being sick for a few days if this is the doctor taking care of you.

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #9 1 1 fanfiction #911 fanfic #911 show #oliver stark #eddie diaz

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ryiju-muunie · 9 months ago

Text

Chocolate roses

18+ viewer discretion advised

fem!reader/toji fushiguro Warnings: aphrodisiac, divorced Toji, mama-guro POV, make-up sex, creampie, breeding kink, squirting, pussy eating, fingering, doggy style, nipple play, make out, fluff, a bit of angst, the reader is in her thirties and Toji is like forty :/ Word count: 4577 words DESC: Your ex-husband Toji shows up unannounced to surprise your kids after school! At 10 AM! And some things go down when he eats chocolate meant for a bachelorette party and not him.

PSA this is inspired by the lovely I Always Come Back by HXLTIC that I read at 3 AM. This is not proofread although my friend was reading along so we ball ^-^

When Toji Zenin showed up at your door, the first thing you wanted to do was slam it shut in his face. But… the father of your children? You couldn’t bear to do that to him. So instead you heard him out.

“I wanted to surprise Tsumiki and Megumi when they came home from school,” was all your ex-husband said with a casual shrug of his shoulders. His shirt was black and too tight for his well-built body. That was one thing you missed, but it was too early to think about running your hands up his chest.

Instead, you turned your head to the side to peer behind him on your porch. It was a sunny day and only 10:03 AM. School typically got out at 2:30 and knowing your kids they’d be doing all sorts of extracurriculars, pushing their arrival home back by another two hours.

God! Why did he want to come so … early? It would be about four hours of pure torture with the man you once swore you’d devote your life to. But things were different. Your vows were broken on both ends and you weren’t proud to admit it but a lot of the fall of your marriage was your fault. You had decided to go back to work and force your husband to stay home and watch the kids. He didn’t mind he enjoyed spending his mornings watching little Gumi and Miki.

But then you started coming home later and later, dodging his kisses and calls in favor of making money. You lost sight of your marriage and he left you for it. If you truly admitted to yourself, you missed him. You missed him so much. But how could you tell him that? It had been five years since your divorce and the last thing you could do was call him crying trying to mend it.

Toji had his walls up and you didn’t blame him. If the roles were reversed you would’ve done the same thing.

“I don’t know…” You trailed off, looking down at the oversized orange cardigan you had bought at a local shop a few years back, “They won’t be back until the mid-afternoon.” Your voice took an unsure tone and your hands took to mess with the ends of your knitted sweater.

Toji always liked that on you and you could tell he still did. While he had his walls up he didn’t exactly hide his gaze. It slowly trailed up your body but not in a sexual way this time. In more of a familiar way. You hadn’t stopped this long to talk to him in a few years. Every time you’d see each other you were too embarrassed to speak to him for more than a minute. I mean, your failed marriage was your fault, right?

“I think you’ve been avoiding me,” Toji rested one hand on the frame of the door and the other on the door itself, pushing it forward with one strong movement, “You don’t have to be embarrassed. It was almost six years ago, I’m over it.”

Your eyes narrowed. Was it that obvious on your face? Could he just read all the emotions coming off of you? All the shame and regret he didn’t get to see because you were too busy waving him off.

Without saying anything else your ex-husband pushed past you and plopped himself down on your white couch, shrugging off his jacket and tossing it to the side. He stretched out his legs and arms without looking back at you. Instead, he was focused on the decorations. It had been so many years since he was invited inside. With every year more regret and shame built up in your mind, so you stopped inviting him inside.

“Yeah just… make yourself at home,” you sighed, walking to pick up his jacket. But then you stopped yourself and let out a breath. If he said he was over it then the least you could do was make it less awkward. Offer him something to drink?

“Do you want something to drink? Tea or lemonade?” You raised an eyebrow, motioning to the open-concept kitchen you had opted for, which differed from the one you two used to share.

The raven-haired male glanced over towards the kitchen and one-half of his mouth turned upwards in a lopsided smirk, “You have any beer?”

You blinked a few times as the request registered in your mind, “Toji it’s almost 10:30.”

“Fine,” he waved a hand and stood up, walking straight past you as if he had owned and built the place himself. He strolled up to the fridge and opened it, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes at the limited options, “I’m kinda hungry too… you don’t mind do you?”

With that, a smile appeared on your face. For once Toji wasn’t very tense and for once you weren’t either. Maybe he was really over it, or at least somewhat over it. Or… maybe he was trying to move past it and make amends. Maybe coming over today so early was his way of saying “It’s okay, let’s move on together.” It was mature of him, something you never thought you’d think about Toji. He was mature.

He noticed your smile and nodded, taking that as a yes to the fact you didn’t mind. Maybe your relationship was going to change for the better.

“I bought Megumi and Tsumiki some rollerskates,” you began turning and walking to sit back on the couch. You didn’t want to hover over your ex-husband and he could pick his food himself. Besides, it was nice to talk as if no time had passed.

“Am I gonna have to teach them how to skate?” Toji asked, with his head stuck inside the fridge rummaging around. There had to be something in there that he would like. After you divorced you stopped buying the things he liked, so maybe he wouldn’t find anything after all.

You thought for a moment before nodding, like he could see you, “I think it would be a good bonding activity.” As you spoke your ex-husband came and sat down a foot away from you on the opposite side of the couch.

He was munching on something you hadn’t bothered to glance over to inspect. Well you didn’t mind, he was the father of your children so if he ate your snacks it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the entire world.

You two sat in silence for a moment. You grabbed the remote and opted to play an old show you were both familiar with but didn’t have the energy to fully commit to. The silence was nice. It was comforting to sit next to someone who you once loved. Well… you still did love him but he didn’t need to know that. It was nice to pretend that nothing had changed and you were back to normal.

“These chocolates are weird…” Toji murmured, wiping his mouth with the back of his right hand. Then he got up to go to the sink and wash his hands.

Chocolates? Well, there were only a few chocolates in the fridge. Some you got as a Valentine's Day gift from Megumi, then some you had bought for a bachelorette party. But those were hidden away in the butter container on a high shelf, so none of your kids found them.

The special chocolates had some aphrodisiacs in them and for some weird reason, the bride-to-be requested you brought them for her. Something about a last day of freedom. Whatever it was you shrugged and did so. The packaging said you were supposed to keep them refrigerated and then in twenty to thirty-five minutes they would work.

“Were they good? Megumi picked them out for me,” you looked back at him as he washed his hands. There was a different aura about your ex-husband as he stood washing his hands. His body was stiff and his muscles looked a bit tense.

He glanced back at you with a faraway expression before nodding and swallowing visibly, “They tasted a little weird, but eh,” Toji shrugged and sat down on the couch again. This time, though, just a bit closer than before. He crossed one of his legs, in a manly way, resting his ankle on his knee and bouncing the resting leg.

“Weird? Were they expired?” You frowned and stared at the TV. You never understood the hype of 1990s sitcoms but it was something better than sitting in more silence. With good silence, you always needed something in the background.

Toji blinked a few times as his lips pressed into a firm line. He took a moment to respond with the muscles in his jaw tightening. His eyes darted back and forth between the girl and the man on TV before he replied, “...Yeah.”

You frowned but said nothing else. Hopefully, you didn’t food-poison him. The one time you had your ex-husband over and he got sick? How bad would that look? You shook your head and moved some hair back behind your ear to the best of your ability, trying not to stare. He looked… different. More focused on the TV like it was the most interesting thing in the world.

Maybe ten minutes had passed before he broke the silence again, “Can we turn on a fan? I’m running hot,” was all he said, but it was different than before. His voice was low, husky, and rasped. When he turned to meet your worried gaze, you were met with a familiar stare.

He was… horny.

Your eyes widened at the sudden realization as to what chocolates he ate, and why they tasted so weird. You were married to him for almost a decade of course you knew the exact look and what it meant down to the way he looked at you through a thick row of eyelashes. You knew what that clenched jaw and tightened bicep meant. He was trying desperately not to make a move on someone he swore he was over.

You turned away and nodded, standing up to turn on the fan from the knob on the wall. As you did so, you felt those eyes penetrating your back and burning holes deep into your skin. Five years of pent-up lust was coming out and being thrown your way. You swallowed and looked back at the wall. You had to say something. Toji probably already knew he had eaten something laced and he was probably mentally freaking out, as much as Toji Zenin could freak out.

“Toji-” You couldn’t even get a word out before he hissed and threw his head back.

“Don’t… speak, doll,” he spoke through gritted teeth, “I don’t think these were Gumi’s chocolates, huh?” Was the last thing he managed to say before he used his forearm to wipe off some sweat forming on his brow.

Just from sitting there for almost twenty minutes, he had looked like he had run a marathon, drenched in sweat and now … panting like a damn dog. It was so attractive you didn’t know what to do. Of course, you still loved him, we’ve established that. You’d do anything to get back with him and get one more chance to prove you aren’t money-hungry. But you wanted to do it if he wanted it, and you wanted to do it if he asked. You couldn’t take advantage of him, even if seeing him this aroused made you wet.

“They’re laced from a bachelorette party,” you explained quietly, slowly inching your way back to the couch to sit as far away from him as possible.

“That why they were in the butter dish?” He asked, staring up at the ceiling with wide eyes.

“Yes- did you seriously look through my butter dish?” A frown appeared on your lips before you shook your head, “Anyways. I’m really sorry. If you want you can go to the bathroom and … relieve yourself. I won’t judge.”

A few silent seconds passed before Toji moved his head to stare at you. It was pure lust, sure, but mixed into the lust was admiration. It was as if he was staring at you for the first time in a hundred years and seeing you for your soul. No one had looked at you like that, especially not Toji fucking Zenin.

He blinked a few times and looked away, “Yeah… I should,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. Sweat marks lined his black shirt and you swore that they hadn’t been there before.

“But,” a curious and sly expression came back to face you, “I’ve been missing you.”

You let out a breath, “That’s just the aphrodisiac talking.”

He raised an eyebrow and moved his leg that had been crossed down to man spread a bit more than he had before. He was hard! Wow almost like we expected that, right audience? You glanced down at his bulge and for a moment you could picture exactly how it looked in your hands. But he cleared his throat and your eyes snapped back to your ex-husbands.

“So the aphro… whatever-s been making me miss you even before today?”

He… missed you? Toji Zenin, the heartless man you managed to hurt… missed you? The man who divorced you because you cared more about money than your own family… missed you?

That was the thing that made you realize you had completely soaked your underwear as you felt it uncomfortably cling deep into your cunt. You shifted around and pressed your lips together tightly.

Of course, you missed him. Of course, you wanted him! Of course, you wanted your family back!

“You miss me? Even after the shitty things I’ve done?” Your voice was barely above a whisper but you weren’t even sure he heard it over the throbbing of your heart.

Your ex-husband nodded and looked down at his lap, “I haven’t been with anyone else in almost six years because I thought there’d be a chance you’d come back.”

The puzzle clicked into your head and in that moment you felt like the most stupid person in the world. It wasn’t you who was waiting for the first move, but it was him. Toji, the one who was forward -the one who started your relationship by approaching you in that bar- wanted you to make the first move. And you were completely blind to see it.

“I… was too scared to come back after treating you like that. I always thought if you wanted me back, you’d come back,” with that you laughed hollowly, but the laugh was cut short when you felt the couch's weight shift around.

Within a second Toji was facing you then on top of you. His body hovered over yours with his face just watching you. It was completely different than the sex-hungry Toji you had married. Yeah you loved each other and you had romantic sex, but it wasn’t to this extent. He looked at you with five years' worth of lust and love. He hadn’t been with anyone since you, he hadn’t touched anyone, he hadn’t tasted anyone. Because… he was waiting for you.

“I’ve been craving you, princess,” he whispered, “I haven’t been able to touch myself without thinking of you…” One of his hands slowly moved to your right side, cupping your waist and sliding to the top of your hip, “I should have never let you go.”

You nodded slowly, letting one hand snake up to the back of his neck, “I want another chance. I want to make it better.”

Toj breathed out and a laugh followed suit. You had never seen him this incredibly desperate before. You had never seen him stare at you as if you were the only woman in the world and you never wanted it to stop.

“Make it better and kiss me, doll,” was all he said before you did as he asked. Your lips melded together in a way that they hadn’t in several years. It was instant muscle memory, with his taste and his soft lips making your core ache for penetration.

But it was different. He didn’t deepen the kiss at first, instead, he took his time to suck on your bottom lip. Toji wanted to taste you and savor you until there was nothing left to taste and savor. He wanted you to intoxicate him until he passed out. Even if he had never taken that aphrodisiac, his feelings would have never changed. Sure, they wouldn’t have been as sexual but where's the fun in that?

You felt a guttural moan pass your lips when he tilted his head to the right to deepen the kiss, and you heard him snicker. God you missed how cocky he would get and it seemed as if nothing had changed. His hands hadn’t changed either. They dipped into the hem of your sweatpants and traced the soft skin of your stomach.

Toji had always loved how your stomach hung out of your body. It was a sign you had birthed two beautiful joys. And it was a sign you were capable of creating more joy with him and only him. He loved to bite and kiss every stretch mark and mole, every fiber of fat, even if he’d never say it out loud.

Now he was too busy taking your mouth against his to speak about how beautiful your body was. One of his hands pulled down your sweatpants and the other pulled down your underwear. Your head was swimming from arousal you hadn’t noticed his hands pushing your legs open. But you did notice when he pulled away from your kiss. A trail of slobber dripped from his chin and onto your aching cunt.

He knew exactly what you liked. I mean, you were married for almost ten years. He knew how delicate you wanted him to start, even if he’d groan and complain while doing it. Toji was always gentle when he began to stimulate your vulva.

Two fingers ran down your slit before pulling back your lips and letting him use his tongue. Fuck, how you loved it when he fucked you with his long tongue. You didn’t know where he got that magical talent from but you weren’t complaining. Toji’s tongue slid from your clit down into your center, focussing on sliding his tongue back and forth against you. Your breath hitched at the sudden sensation.

It didn’t take him long before he was circling back and sucking on your swollen clit. His mouth was made from gods and he used it to please you. Your hands trailed up your own body to grab onto one of your breasts. If he wasn’t going to stimulate your nipples then you were going to yourself. One hand slid underneath your cardigan to pinch the pink nub and roll it under your fingers.

“Toji…mm-fu..fuck,” you breathed out, rolling your hips against his face which was completely stuffed into your pussy. Toji would tell you straight up he enjoyed eating you out for his pleasure, not anything else. Sure, he wanted you to cum, but he wanted to be able to taste you cum even more.

He wanted to feel you squirt in his face and drink it up. Even if you thought it tasted bad he relished in it. And god did he miss this. He missed playing with your cunt until you were sore. He could just cum from eating you out and Toji was getting close. Just sinking in the tip of his cock in your folds at this rate would completely milk him.

Toji pulled his face back to wipe off his mouth with the back of his hand, “Do you want me to fuck you… or would you prefer I make you squirt?” His voice was even more perfect than you could’ve remembered, and hearing it through your ringing ears made it more heavenly.

“...Both,” you whispered, looking down at him with one eye closed and a smile pressed against your lips.

He blinked a few times then grinned, “That’s my girl,” and he went nose-first into your center. It took him a few seconds to pry one hand from your thighs to pump inside you. At this point, you were accustomed to two fingers being the minimum for Toji, and that’s what he promised.

Two fingers gently pushed inside of you but didn’t stay gentle for long. The last knuckle on his index and middle finger curled, followed by the second to create a motion he knew would touch your g-spot. Toji slowly moved them in and out, and in and out, and in and out. With each thrust of his hand, it got faster and you could feel a sensation rising in your lower body.

Toji knew the only way to truly get you close was multiple ways of stimulation. So he’d typically eat you out, finger you, and massage your nipples. Thankfully you were taking care of your breasts which left your pussy to him. He ate you out like a starving man on death row whose last meal was something he hadn’t eaten in ten years with an endless supply.

The sensation rising in your core hasn’t been talked about enough, huh? You felt it build directly inside your walls, as your G-spot was stimulated. Then it moved further out to your clit, then down your thighs and legs. Before it rushed over your head and made you throw it back in a loud moan. You were getting close and you couldn’t even verbalize it. But Toji knew exactly what to look out for to know when you were close. And he could tell when you were about to squirt.

And you were about to squirt.

“T-T…hah fu-fuck Toji,” you groaned, letting go of one of your breasts to grab a fist full of his hair. He didn’t say anything so as not to disrupt the magic he was brewing in your nether regions (ba dum tss).

He bobbed his head up and down a few times and tempted fate by adding in a third finger. It wasn’t so much that you couldn’t take it, but more so that he knew exactly what it was going to do. Within a few seconds, you gasped and let out a loud moan, with a shudder running through your body. Another shudder and you felt yourself release on him. It was one thing to squirt and not feel it, but it was another to feel the sensation of releasing your liquids.

It jutted out of your pussy and onto your grinning ex-husband's face. He laughed a bit and wiped his mouth with his forearm, before going down and licking up your juices on your thighs and a bit on your clit.

“H-hey,” you whimpered, nudging his forehead as he started to eat you out again, “You’re getting distracted…”

Toji blinked a few times before sitting up and looking down at your shaking body, “Shame this couch is white…” He shrugged, reaching one of his hands out to grab your shoulder. Both hands grabbed your shoulders and gently turned you around so you were lying on your stomach, with a pillow added to your front to make sure you were comfortable.

You heard a belt unbuckle then some shifting as he undid his pants and then underwear. Toji knew you enough to know you were on birth control, so condoms weren’t a concern of his. You both had a breeding kink, who doesn’t? He loved the feeling of filling you up with his cum until he was completely dry, and it wouldn’t take him very long to finish at this rate.

“I’m gonna go in,” he whispered, patting your hip.

Then before you could speak, but let’s be honest you were completely gone by this point, you felt a swollen tip press against your folds. You didn’t even get a moan in before you heard a faint… whimper from Toji. He cleared his throat and thrust in fully, gasping and leaning forward against your body involuntarily.

“I… haven’t fucked anyone in six ye…years,” he gasped again. Any other movement and he’d cum instantly. So much for hot rough sex. But still, he was determined to fuck you until you came again.

“Me… either…” You murmured into the couch, letting your eyes close against the wet cushion. A wet cushion you would be dealing with tomorrow.

“God. I missed you. I missed you so much,” Toji repeated a few more times, straightening his posture and fastening both hands to your hips. He pulled back and slowly began to thrust. Not for your sake but for the fact he wanted to elongate this feeling as much as possible.

His thrusts got a bit faster and his grip tighter, “...I’m… mm gonna fill y-you with my seed. I-I want anothe…mm fuc-fuck another b…hah…. Baby.” That was all you needed to hear.

A family, you’d be starting another family together. Too bad you were on birth control. But for now, you could pretend this would be the start of your new family. It turned you on as much as it made you happy. The man you loved, loved, and wanted a family with you. God, that was nice. And what was even nicer was the fact he was beginning to rail you.

Six years was six years too long. You ached for him to fill you up with fat, hot spurts of his white cum. You wanted him to stuff you to the point where you leaked and cried for it to end. You needed him to impregnate you so you both would be together for the rest of your lives.

You needed Toji to be yours now.

Toji was getting close, it was obvious by the way he thrust and the way he cursed. It was sloppier than his typical sloppy strokes and his voice got a bit higher than normal. That’s when you knew he was overstimulated and about to burst at any given moment. You wanted to speak and scream for him to fill you up, but the only thing you could do was mindlessly beg into the air. Neither of you seemed to hear or notice each other's words as he… came.

You never heard Mr. Zenin full-on whimper until that day. It was clear it came out accidentally from how his hips jutted forward and he pulled you instantly to him. He whimpered out a loud “I love you” and whined as his cum shot out. It filled you up more than you remembered he used to. His whimpers weren’t very high-pitched but they were pathetic. It was the cries from a man who hadn’t fucked in almost six years, and the cries of a man who missed your pussy so much.

If you ever get the chance to make a buff, deep-voiced, grown man whimper, I highly encourage it.

Toji slid out of your cunt and flopped back onto the couch, leaving you for a moment to lie with your ass in the air. You were so tired you didn’t even notice when he grabbed you from behind and pulled you to his chest. His warm arms wrapped protectively around you and for once you felt as though everything had gone back to normal.

Toji Zenin would be Toji Fushiguro again.

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cosmopretty · 6 months ago

Note

can i req a angst? kk arnold x fem!reader. reader was having a tiring and stressful day! so she was angry, very angry and bored. kk tried to approach her to annoy her a bit (as always) just jokingly, but reader unintentionally ends taking out everything in kk, she yelled at her, cursed... and kk becomes sad 🥺🥺

Stressed

KK Arnold X Fem

warnings: angst, suggestive , fluff

You have the worst day ever today, scratch that the whole week has been so bad for you. First you have so much work piling up from all your classes that you have to make up. Then you have barely seen your girlfriend Kamora all week due to her having long practices for basketball.

You drop your head onto your desk and groan pulling your hair, you have been sitting doing work for two hours straight and it’s driving you crazy how you’re not even half way done. Your phone dings and quickly you look at it seeing your girlfriend texting saying she’s coming home late, again. You just heart the message not wanting to reply to her at the moment.

You sit down at stare at your work for a second before going back to it. It went by so fast one minute you’re doing your work the next you’re crying into your pillow.

Shoving your face into the pillow to hide your tears, it’s all just caught up to you. The stress from school and family caused you to not be able to sleep well at night or eat well and you haven’t taken a moment to focus on your feelings. So you lay in your bed and cry for god knows how long until you get up and wash your face. Looking into the mirror you sigh your face looked thinner and you knew why, your too stressed and when your stressed your body changes.

You sit back down taking a deep breath before you hear someone knocking on your door. Getting up you open the door and automatically KK wraps her arms around you swing your back and forth. She kisses your head “ I missed you so much baby “ she tells you before letting go of you and going inside. You nod “ Missed you too but I gotta do work so give me a little time to finish “ you tell her walking back to your room and sitting at your desk.

KK nods understandably she knew how you valued your school work. It was one of the things she loved about you, how hard you worked. She missed you all week long and would not shut up about you to her teammates. Paige had to physically cover her mouth to make her stop taking about you and how much she loved and missed you. KK lays on your bed watching you and scrolling through TikTok for about thirty minutes before she gets bored.

KK taps your shoulder, looking up from your paper you raise your brows at the girl “ What happened “ you ask her. She shrugs and starts kissing your neck you moan a bit before pushing her away “ I need to work KK this is important “ you turn back to the desk trying to focus on your work. Your girlfriend groans and taps you over and over trying to get a rise out of you.

Slamming your hand in the desk you look at her annoyed “ Can you give me a break KK DAMN you’re annoyed the fuck outa me right now “ you tell her. She nods and walks away from you back to the living room. You sigh realizing that you’d shouldn’t of lashed out on her.

Dropping your pen you get up and walk over to KkK. You sit down next to her and go to wrap your arm around her before she moves away “ Nah what I thought you wanted ya space “ she says.

“ Come on KK I didn’t mean it “ you try to move to her again before she gets up and grabs her shit before leaving your dorm.

—————

It’s been three days since you last talked to your girlfriend. She has been ignoring you since that moment in your dorm. You were so mad at yourself for hurting her like that, you didn’t mean it of course. You were just stressed and accidentally took it out on her.

The stress definitely took a toll on you, with the bags under your eyes and your face thinner than before. You talked to your roommate about it and she told you that you should take a break and focus on yourself. But how could you do that with KK mad at you, she was your everything and you were hers. You both just fit together like a puzzle and everyone around you could see how happy you made each other.

You sit down on your couch knees to your chest watching TikTok before hearing a knock on your door. You get up immediately opening it fast hoping it’s the one person you want to see the most. And thank god because there she was, standing at your door looking down at you.

KK just walks in not saying anything to you at all. You look at her and she sighs “ Your roommate texted me she said you been stressed and ain’t eating or sleeping is that true? “ she asks you.

Looking down at your hands for a moment you look back up at her before walking over to the couch and sitting down. You let out a breath and nod your head “ There just so much stress with school. I’m sorry for yelling at you KK I didn’t mean it I promise I just took my stress out on you “ you apologize to the girl you loved hoping she would forgive you.

Your girlfriend eyes soften “ Come here baby I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you “ KK says pulling you down onto her lap. You immediately wrap your arms around her neck and kiss her cheek “ S okay KK I’m fine don’t worry “ you comfort her.

KK shakes her head “ It’s not okay you need to eat and sleep mama. Ima order us some food tonight okay and we can cuddle and watch whatever you want “ she says moving her head down and kissing your lips. You moan into the kiss and she slips her younger in your mouth. The two of you make out for a moment before pulling away for air. You breathe heavily and KK slips her hands under your shirt grabbing your hips “ I know a way to help get rid of stress “ she says one hand moving to squeeze your ass.

You nod and lean into her touch “ Yeah you wanna help me relax “ you tease her while kissing her neck. KK moans out and nods “ Hell yeah come here baby lemme make you feel good okay “ she grabs you and picks you up by the back of thighs and carries you to your room before laying your down on your bed and climbing on top of you.

#uconn wbb #uconn huskies #kk arnold #kk arnold x reader

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borntoyearn · 2 years ago

Text

Everything hurts. Your boobs, your lower back, your legs...fuck everything aches. It's the last month of your pregnancy and you want to die. Not literally, but god these last weeks have been hell. Simon has been so damn patient with you– just yesterday you snapped at him for "crunching too loud" on his cereal. He apologized and sat at the other end of the couch.

He's been an angel, and you want to cry for how mean you've been to him. He swears he gets whiplash from your mood swings, but he wouldn't have it any other way. You're carrying his baby– he has no right to complain about your moodiness.

Uncomfortable is the word you would use to describe the last days until you become a family of three. You can't even sneeze without peeing a little, its fucking embarrassing. Most of all, the new ache between your legs is insane. It's so sensitive down there, when the inseam of your leggings brushes the nub just right, you almost whine.

Simon's almost-new-dad status doesn't help. He works around the house and looks so fucking sexy doing it. You came back from a walk some days ago and found him sitting in the nursery, brows furrowed trying to decipher the crib instructions. You fought every urge not to pounce on him. Today though, its unbearable. You need to cum, like...right now.

"Babe my boobs hurt," the first hint...well, hardly a hint. But it's a start. Simon only humphs in response, apparently the documentary on Machu Picchu is more important than your current predicament.

"Uh hello? They fucking hurt, Simon" you press. Okay, watch your tone, breathe...he's just invested in the Incas right now.

"Can you help me?" you plead. Now he turns to look over at you. "What do you need, love?" his tone is calm, even that makes you feral. But fuck, what do you need? Well...

"Take off my shirt please" you give him your best doe eyes. Simon puts down the remote on the coffee table and scoots closer to you. "Arms up princess" your pussy pulses at the nickname, "My bra too please, it's killing me." He takes both garments off so gently. "That all you need?" Fuck no, not even close.

"Take your shirt off."

"Mine? Why?"

"I want you hold me."

He complies, of course he does. Simon has been fighting the horny demons too. Jerking off doesn't even help anymore– he needs you just as much as you need him.

His shirt is off and he lays down, you lay next to him. Chest to chest...or belly to belly is more accurate. It's just not enough. You grow impatient, "Babe, I need you." It's barely a whisper, but dripping with want. "I don't think we can anymore, doll." You want to stomp like a child. Your current position only lets you nudge his foot with yours. "Please baby. I think I'll die if I don't have you." He chuckles, "I'm so serious, Simon. If I don't cum in the next thirty minutes you wont have a wife anymore." He doesn't say anything, but you know he's thinking.

"Okay, flip over" Fuck yes. Finally. It's happening. You miss him...so much. The last time he took you to pound town was after your baby shower, two months ago.

You're on your back now and Simon is on his knees between your legs, looking down at you. "Promise me you'll tell me if it gets too much." He's serious and you shudder. "Yeah, I promise honey." He leans down and gives your cheek a kiss, then your forehead, and finally your lips. "Thank you" he says. He dips his head to plant wet kisses on your neck, your collarbone. He lays his head on your chest for a moment, and continues on his venture. Your breasts are equally as pleading as you are, begging to be touched. He gives them a light squeeze, he knows they're sensitive. Then he suckles on your left nipple, massaging the other. You mewl...its been so long.

You two used to go at it daily, even earlier in your pregnancy. Then your body started to change and things started to get uncomfortable, so sex was off the table until the baby arrived. Right now, you're so happy. His mouth feels amazing on your tits, but you need him somewhere else.

"Simon, baby" you manage to speak, "need your mouth on me"

"It is on you" he challenges.

"You know what I mean."

"I don't think I do" oh he loves you like this, he'll make you beg if he has to. But you don't have the patience, not tonight.

"On my pussy. Need your mouth on my pussy." You moan and arch into his touch. You can't even see that his hand is under your shorts and panties. Another belly problem.

"I've got you mama, don't worry." You swear you cream. He takes off your shorts and scoots back to dip his head between your legs. He presses his nose into your clothed core and inhales deep, "Fuck you smell amazing." Simon can be so nasty, but you love it.

You jerk hard when he presses a kiss to your pussy. He sits back a little, concerned. "You okay?" you can only nod in response. You're dizzy already and he hasn't even taken your panties off. He goes back to the task at hand. Simon drags his hands down your waist, hooks his fingers on the waistband of your panties and slides them off. The sight is to die for. Your clit is so big and puffy and red, practically screaming to be played with. He cant help but ask. "Are you in any pain, love?" you laugh. He takes that as a no.

Simon's tongue licks a fat stripe over your folds. You might die, fuck you're gonna die. He parts them and licks at the center. The way he suckles on your clit is fucking divine. Everything feels so much more intense with the pregnancy. Your legs are already twitching. Simon's tongue flicks over the angry red nub. It's getting you to the edge, fuck its too soon though. You want to cry, it cant be over yet.

"Baby no more please!" It's all you can manage to squeal. He sits back, breathless. Your juices coat his lips and chin. You wanna kiss him so bad. "C'mere please." You grab at his tattooed bicep and pull him on top of you. "Need your cock" you plead in his ear, "I need it so bad."

"Baby we cant, I'll hurt the ba-"

"Just the tip." Your negotiation skills are terrible, but you literally need this, "Please just rub your tip on me. That's all I need."

How the hell is he gonna say no to that? Simon gets up to take off his sweats and briefs. His cock springs up to his abdomen, you can see the pre that has smeared all over the tip. He gets on top of you once more, your legs immediately wrap around his waist.

"You're shaking, you cold?" Fuck you are shaking, his tongue on you and the sight of his dick have you fucking shaking. "No not cold babe, just fuck me please." Simon shakes his head and laughs, he'll never get over how needy you can get. He doesn't want to make you wait much longer, maybe you will die if he takes another minute.

He grabs his cock and rubs it between your folds, the tip bumps against your bundle of nerves– you both sigh at the contact. Once his dick is coated enough, he slides into your clenching hole. Simon has to remind himself that its just his tip for today, but the way your walls are fluttering on his head and sucking him in more...he's fighting every urge to not bury himself balls deep in you. You're a moaning mess at this point. He's moving his hips just enough to slide his cockhead in and out of you. You're almost there, but just need a little push. So you grab Simon's thumb, suck on it, and you guide it down to play with your clit. He looks at you and nearly cums too– his heavily pregnant wife, her legs spread wide open literally creaming on his dick. It could be his own personal porno.

A few more quick strokes of his cock send you over the edge. Your back arches and you moan loud, relief and pleasure wash over you. You have to smack his hand away from your pussy from the sensitivity. Simon is fucked out, he's chasing his high too.

"Where do you want it?" He's frantic, hopefully you read his mind.

"On my belly..wan' it on my belly" you respond, breathless. That was it. That was his push.

Simon pulls out and strokes himself a couple of more times. His tip a lighter color than before he fucked you, it's probably the layer of your cum. He puts his hand next to your head and leans over you. The slick fwop fwop from his dick makes you dizzy all over again. He cums hard. His seed shoots out in long strings over your tummy. He groans loud next to your ear.

"Fuuuuck, look at that. Look at the mess we made." It is a mess. You can't see the dark spot the couch has now, but that's something you'll deal with later.

Simon is still staring at the marking he gave you. He reaches over and grabs his cellphone. It'd be a sin if he didn't capture this moment. He then grabs his tossed shirt and cleans you up, stomach and pussy.

"I can't get up" you whine.

"C'mon we have to shower."

"Carry me" you jut out your bottom lip. He can't help but kiss you, his darling wife.

So carry you he does. He also washes your hair in the shower and gives some extra love to your belly. As many changes that you both have gone through, he's content to know that you'll always want him, and he damn sure will always want you.

a/n: literally ignore this rushed ass ending y'all 😖 dad!simon brainrot is tew real !! maybe i'll write some headcanons since i am not able to write long fics like this one without sounding silly LMAO

#love u if u read n reblog :*#also love u simon riley #he goes back to his docu after fucking u btw #such a dad sobsob #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader

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little-miss-dilf-lover · 11 months ago

Note

nsfw idea😙 tangerine sees reader in the bath using the shower head……

dude ive had this idea and wanted to write this for so long !! thanks for requesting, hope you like it💌 as im about to post this, JUST saw there’s a tangerine in front of the candle on the left ??!? how fitting

HELPING HAND

tangerine x female reader

word count. 819

warnings. 18+ only!! shower head as stimulation, tan helps bc he’s so bf, light choking (just throat holding) he can’t help himself and finishes in his boxers🫠 mdni

You were in the bath, one leg hooked over the top of the tub, the other bent at the knee, hand in between gripping onto the shower head - directing the water at that sensitive, little, sweet spot.

You've been at it for a little while now, growing more and more frustrated at the constant growing and disappearance of your orgasm. Your forearm was beginning to ache, and your knee started to seize up - like everything in your body was telling you to stop, but you were finally starting to feel something - it was starting to feel good again. That was all until your hand moved so so slightly, knocking the water flow away from your needy clit.

There's a faint knock at the bathroom door, Tangerine on the other side growing concerned at your unusually long shower.

"Darlin'? Ya'right?"

You clear your throat, propping yourself up slightly. "Yeah," you reply, though it doesn't sound as you planned - it comes out more whiney, frustrated.

"Don't sound it," he dismisses, tapping at the handle. "Can I come in? Need'ta get my deodorant."

You hesitate, looking down at yourself - laying in an empty bath, shower head hitting between your thighs. It wasn't hard to figure out what you were doing.

"Nothin' I ain't seen before," he says, his words trailing to a halt when he sees the lewd image of you in front of him. "Fuck."

Immediately, you grow embarrassed - almost ashamed at the vulnerable and compromising he caught you in. You open your mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, you just duck lower into the tub, like you were hiding - trying to shield yourself from his intense gaze.

He makes his way closer, stilling once your whole frame is in view again.

"Don't stop on my account," he murmurs, his voice losing its usual tone of conviction - growing hoarse at the sight of you. "Keep goin', love."

You meet his eye line, watching how quickly they flicker over you, like they were overwhelmed by the view - raking over your wet, quivering body. You hold his gaze as he lowers to the floor, kneeling beside you in the tub.

He extends an arm towards you, hand reaching for your face. He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, swiping over the flesh - focusing on you with half-lidded eyes. "Want me to help?"

You eagerly nod your head, immediately agreeing. You were far too frustrated to turn down his offer, so you submit, passing him the showerhead.

He situates himself on the side of the tub facing you, one hand lightly holding the base of your throat, the other between your thighs, angling the water at your clit.

You instantly cry out at the contact, already feeling more than you have for the last thirty minutes. It felt so much better with Tan's help, his grounding palm on your damp skin, and his other continuing to hit the water at that little, swollen nub ever so perfectly.

Your eyes screwed shut, but he remained focused on you - eyes drifting to your heaving chest, over to your hand clutching at the side of the tub, back down to your thighs where they started to shudder; everything was just so erotic, unlike anything he had ever seen before.

"It's right there, right there— please don't move. I feel it again. There— god," you mindlessly mutter, cutting yourself off with a staggered breath.

"I won't, darlin'," he whispers, sharply inhaling when he feels the impossible strain in his boxers - his cock begging to be touched. "I won't."

You focus on the airy feeling in your lower tummy, concentrating on that fuzzy sensation spread further as you approach your ever-lasting buildup.

You cry out, harshly moaning as you reach your intense high - chest heaving, stomach jittering, thighs clamping together as you attempt to rid his hand.

"Jus'a bit more," he murmurs. "That's it."

You're a jolting, spasming mess, mewling out against the almost overstimulating feeling, swatting his hand away. "No more, no more," you breathe out, slumping into the tub in a state of near-exhaustion. "I— fuck."

He softly groans, feeling the head of his cock twitch against the fabric, twinging as he coats the inside of his boxers in a layer of warm cum.

Only this time, it was you watching him - gawking at the way he came untouched, purely by the sight of you.

"Did—" you start, eyes wide as you peer up at him. "That was the hottest thing I have ever seen."

He exhales, cheeks faintly flush as he stands. "Couldn't help it," he breathes, raking through his curls. He picks up his deodorant from the side and turns to face you, a soft smile spreading as he reaches for the door handle. "You're the only girl that's made me jizz my pants like that."

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

no taglist as don't want to spam

#request #tangerine #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine smut #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine x you #tangerine fanfiction

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exoticbvnni · 6 months ago

Text

I’m not the one you should be mad at | J.Y.

Jeong Yunho x fem!reader

Summary:your ex boyfriend fooled you once again,however Yunho will take care of it

Warnings:break up,angst,fingering,prise kink,unprotected sex (don’t do it guys!),smut

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - ‘♡’- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You stepped into Yunho’s apartment,slamming the door before throwing your jacket on his couch:you were on the edge of tears.

You felt so stupid for coming back to your ex again,no matter how badly he had treated you while dating,and no matter how many times he had simply used you even after breaking up.

“Already back? I thought you would’ve spent the rest of the night at his place” Yunho stepped in the living room; as you could tell by his wet hair,the clean black shirt and the new gym trousers he was wearing, he had just taken a shower.

“I’m done with him!” you exclaimed,mad,walking to the kitchen in order to pour yourself a glass of water.

You tried to fight back the urge to cry,however tears started streaming down your face as soon as you opened the fridge. What a crybaby, you thought,but you deserved it for being such an idiot.

“You said the same thing last week,and the week before,and the one before…” Yunho spoke,resting his back against the kitchen counter.

“I’m serious this time!” you exclaimed,walking towards him. The height difference showing as soon as only a few inches distanced the two of you.

The brunette giggled,shaking his head:

“I’ve already heard that. I don’t believe you”

“I said that I’m serious now! Look at me!” you pointed at your tears.

Yunho stared at you,his eyes were cold:

“Whatever… -the brunette mumbled,walking past you to go to his room-the fridge is empty,if you wanna sleep over order dinner for yourself. I’ve already ordered pizza for me” he explained,disappearing.

“Fuck you and your damn pizza! -you exclaimed,sitting on the couch-thank you for being an asshole today…” you then whispered to yourself,sobbing hard.

You sat there crying for thirty minutes,eyes lost wandering from an undefined point of the floor to another, and a hand holding onto you phone as if you were thinking about what to have for dinner when your mind was just empty.

Why did you believe to your ex again? Why you didn’t expect him to call you only for sex and not to give your relationship a second chance? He didn’t care about you anymore,you had turned into his little toy,so why would you bother to listen to him? He had been playing with you for six months now,yet you would always come back to him.

Why were you so stupid? Still so in love? And why was Yunho so cold? Why wasn’t he comforting you like he had always done? Why wasn’t he hugging you? Wiping your tears away? Why wasn’t he reassuring you? Was he mad at you? Was he just mad in general?

You grabbed a pillow, throwing it to the ground as you yelled, angry. You needed to let it go…to make sure that Yunho was listening to you, so he could come and give you the comfort you were seeking. It didn’t happen,tho.

“Don’t yell,my neighbour will complain” he spoke coldly,appearing on the entrance of the living room. He rested a shoulder against the door frame and slid his hands in the pockets of his trousers.

“What’s your fucking problem?” you growled,getting up from the couch just to walk towards the boy.

“What are you talking about?” he demanded

“Why are you acting like a prick?” fire was burning in your eyes,but Yunho didn’t react.

“Like a prick? I’m not the one you should be mad at” he shrugged his shoulders, ready to walk away when you grabbed his forearm:

“Tell me what’s your fucking problem!” you screamed again,tears still rolling down your cheeks

“What’s your problem if anything! -he yelled back,recomposing himself immediately after- you’re just frustrated because I’m not running to save you. That’s why you’re throwing a tantrum” he shrugged your hand off,but you held on.

“I’ve been fucking played and you’re making it worse!”

“Yes! You’ve been fucking played,congrats on waking up after six months y/n! What am I supposed to do,uh? Wipe your tears,tell you that it’s not your fault and that everything will get better just to get laid in my fucking bed? That shit is over!

I tried Y/n, I tried so hard to stay by your side when you needed it, I tried so hard to become something more than your post-break-up fuck buddy. I accepted to have sex with you,gaslighting myself into believing that maybe,maybe if I held on and took care of your wounds you would’ve seen me in a different light; but it didn’t happen. All you cared about was that fucking idiot. I won’t be here wiping your tears again after you brought this on yourself, running to him anytime he was horny and needy. I’m tired -he pushed you away- get home. I changed my mind,I won’t allow you to sleep here tonight. I need to be alone”

“You need to be alone?! Fucking narcissistic, I’m devastated and all you can think about is yourself?!“ you were getting more and more mad

“Narcissistic?! You are a narcissistic! Have you ever thought about how I could feel? Have you ever thought about how much energy I put into this just to get nothing in return?”

“You can’t expect people to fall in love with you just because you help them,how sick is that logic?!” your hands were wandering in the air, there was no control in your movements as you were blinded by pain and anger

“I did not expect you to fall in love with me..but to get at least a thank you,hell if I did;but no,no,you couldn’t say thank you,you couldn’t percieve me as an actual person,you were so busy thinking about that idiot that all I was seen as was just a damn rebound!” Yunho walked closer,making you step back,hitting the couch.

“I never considered you a rebound” you justified yourself,holding onto the backrest of the sofa.

“Your actions said otherwise -he bit back,staring into your soul- and I’m over”

From his eyes,you could see how painful it had been for him,how hurt,and angry,he was right now.

Maybe he was right:maybe you did act like he was a rebound,the one you wanted to run to only when you needed someone to put the pieces of your heart together;but you had never been aware of it.

“I don’t want you to be over” you spoke,holding onto the cloth of his shirt.

You were stuck between the couch and his body,with his warm breath caressing your cold skin.

“Why? -the brunette paused- Cuz you want an unconditional emotional support? Or -he pushed his lower abdomen against yours- or because you need me to make you moan out loud?”.

Your breath got stuck in your throat as the two of you stared into each other’s eyes for an eternity of seconds.

“Answer me” Yunho mumbled

You didn’t say a word

“Answer me!” he repeated himself

Still nothing.

“I hate you” he then mumbled, almost broken

“Me too” you replied,smashing your lips against his.

He was right:you did need him…but,after all,he needed you as well.

A moan of yours filled the air as soon as Yunho’s strong hands rested on your hips,moving your body from the couch to the wall,pushing your back against the cold surface as his lips sucked yours; his tongue twirling in your pretty mouth.

You grabbed the cloth of his shirt,stripping him out of it by lifting it up from the back.

Without breaking the kiss,your hands wander along his torso,feeling his muscles tensing at every movement.

Again,Yunho grabbed you by your hips,this time just to lead you to his bedroom and push you on his bad.

“I don’t wanna see you ever again after tonight” he whispered,kissing your neck;his hand was already wandering in between your thighs.

You didn’t answer, you just dragged him closer,stroking your lower abdomen against his as he moaned in your neck,biting his favourite spot:the skin upon your right collarbone.

Yunho’s hand went up your torso,getting rid of your top to leave you in your white bra and white skirt:

“My favourite colour” he commented,starting to suck your shoulder immediately after.

Again,the hand on your torso went up,squeezing your breast,stroking the cloth of your lingerie while he couldn’t stop grinding his crotch against your panties.

“Stop teasing” you panted,unbuckling his belt. You weren’t sure of what you were doing since your head was thrown back and your mind was foggy.

Yunho smirked and laughed, moving your hand away to get undressed on his own:

“Sometimes I wonder if your ex had ever gotten you so worked up in such a short time” he bit his lips,freeing your body from his grip for a second just to take off his gym trousers.

“Yunho…” you mewled,holding onto the sheets as you were already missing his touch.

“He didn’t,did he? Or you wouldn’t have fucked with me so often when he used to call you for that” he spoke again,going back to suck on your neck,which was now covered in purple marks.

“Yunho…Yunho…” you repeated his name as a mantra while he unbuttoned the strap of your bra to let it fall down the bad.

“What do you want darling? Speak up” he groaned,kissing your chest,right between your breast,before twirling his tongue around your nipple and then lick your tummy.

“Your fingers…please” you slid your hand down your body,under your skirt,realising how wet you already were.

Yunho was right:for how much you loved your ex,he had never gotten you so worked up. You had always had to do that on your own,focused on the idea to please him instead of creating a mutual relationship.

“I know angel, I know you love it” he whispered,going more and more down on you,until his lips started kissing your inner thigh, close to your wetness.

“Yunho…” you cried again, head still thrown back.

The boy stroked his knuckles against the cloth of your panties,moving it aside before sliding a finger inside you.

You moaned out loud,holding onto his shoulders to release the tension pleasure had rose in your body.

“Fuck” you whined,music to Yunho’s ear.

The boy lifted his head,admiring your red,flushed cheeks and your slightly open mouth. He knew you were feeling good,but he also knew that you wanted more:he knew you,he knew how eager you were for his fingers; that was why he decided to slid in another one,making you moan louder.

“Fuck,fuck!” you cried again,coming undone on Yunho’s hand.

The brunette smirked,licking his fingers,kissing your lips.

“Good girl -he moved to the angle of your mouth,leaving another kiss also in that spot- do you think you can hold on a little longer?” he asked,sure that you would’ve said yes,as always. However,this time,you got so high that you could barely talk.

“Y/n?” Yunho called you,worried as he gently stroked you cheek,waiting for you to stop panting and open your eyes:

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” he asked,worried,but you shook your head.

“Are you sure?” he asked again,you nodded

“You didn’t-you didn’t come yet” you whispered

“I won’t keep on if, today, you can’t handle it” he moved a few strands of sweaty hair away from your face;you shook your head again,kissing him.

“Don’t stop,please” you whispered,stroking your hips against his.

Immediately, the light in Yunho’s eyes changed as the boy started sucking your skin one more time,making you moan,going down and down until his tongue met your intimacy.

“Yes,please,I need you!” you mumbled,bucking yourself against him

“Stay still angel,I can’t make you feel good if you move” he groaned,blocking your body against the bed with his huge hands.

You bit your lips,enjoying his teasing until,finally,you felt his fingers lift your skirt to then grab your legs.

Yunho smirked,looking down at you before pecking your lips and move, for the second time,your panties aside.

“Gonna make you feel so good” he groaned into the crook of your neck,getting inside of you.

“Fuck,Yunho” you mewled,almost in pain:no matter how many times you had taken him,you still needed time to adjust to his size.

Once he had understood that you were finally okay,he started moving his hips,slowly,scared to cross the line as you had almost passed away a few minutes before;however,your moans and half eaten up prayers to move faster, made him go feral.

The room was filled with grunts:Yunho couldn’t stop thinking about how beautiful you were anytime he had sex with you;you always came so undone for him and only him. It was his biggest turn on:your pretty o shaped lips,the sweaty hair spread all over his bed,your moans, and those eyes shut in pleasure. It was heaven for him:it was heaven for him knowing that you were feeling so good.

“Fuck,I’m about to come” he suddenly muttered as his movements got sloppier.

He looked at you one last time,knowing,thanks to your contracted expression,that you were close as well.

A few last moans filled the air,then your release came,followed by Yunho’s.

The brunette panted,resting his forehead on your shoulder before laying down next to you.

Again,it took you a while before coming down from your highness,and Yunho noticed,that was why he started caressing you slowly,kissing your forehead and talking sweetly:

“It’s okay angel,just stay with me,can you hear my voice?” he asked,you nodded,sliding your body closer to his to be welcomed in his warm embrace.

“Are you okay? Was I too rough? Or did I teased you too much today?” he demanded,caressing your hair

“It’s okay -you mumbled,tired- you were perfect -you paused- I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? For what? For not carrying it out like you always do?” Yunho asked,confused

“No…for making you feel like a rebound. You were right,I did that,but I wasn’t aware of it. I was…”

“You were in love. But,please,next time don’t let your feelings fool you again” Yunho kissed your temple.

You shook your head,wrapping your arms around his waist:

“I won’t. You were right when you said that I kept coming back to you just to be comforted. I needed it so bad,I…I needed you so bad -you lifted your head- and I still do. But not because of sex,or because I need an emotional support,only because…-you gulped- only because you’ve become my safe place -you admitted, wiping a tear away- I don’t think I’ve realised it before you told me. I don’t understand why I could be fooled so easily. Now that I think about it,my ex never really cared about me. I was always the one giving everything to him in every aspect of out relationship,from support to sex. Even there he acted like a selfish prick,yet I kept going back to him” you were now crying in Yunho’s chest.

The boy slid on his right side,keeping you close,caressing your back to comfort you,to let you know that he was there.

“Now that you’ve realised it, you broke the cycle. It’s a good thing,next time you won’t believe him;but, please,and this time I am not referring only to myself,remember that only because someone took too much from us without giving anything in return,it doesn’t mean that we’re supposed to do the same with those who are close to us” the brunette pointed out,sweetly, caressing your cheek.

“You are right -you sat,looking down at him- I’m sorry Yunho,for everything. I promise that from now on I’ll treat you right…if you still want me around” you crossed your legs.

Yunho mirrored you,sitting. He then dragged you into a long hug:

“Of course I want you around. I love you,y/n” he kissed your temple

“I love you too,Yunho. Thank you for everything” you kissed him back,hugging him tightly. You would have never hurt him again.

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hughes86-43 · 9 months ago

Note

dad quinn with some angst

Just Disappointed | Q. Hughes

warnings - none, just some angst with dad!quinn

note - this probably wasn’t as angsty as you wanted but I had to give it a happy ending! still hope you enjoyed it!

You had just put your four year old daughter down in her bed after a long day of running errands, cleaning the house, and keeping up with her. You and your daughter finished the day, before laying her down, with watching your husband, Quinn’s, game on tv.

Your daughter had been fussy for the whole game, wanting her father, even though she could see him on tv. It had taken thirty minutes alone to put her down for bed after the game, since she didn’t want to go to bed unless she saw her dad.

Quinn had texted you after the game that he would be home in an hour, so you kept her up till then. However, an hour later he wasn’t home yet, so you decided to put her to bed despite the fussing.

Sitting on the couch, thirty minutes after he said he would be home, Quinn walked through the door. Spotting you, he says, “Hey, baby. Did you guys watch the game? We won!”

“Yes, we did,” You mumbled, not making eye contact with him.

“What’s wrong?” Quinn said, making his way towards you on the couch.

“‘What’s wrong’? What’s wrong is that you said you would’ve been home thirty minutes ago, and you weren’t! Our daughter stayed up to see you, and wouldn’t go to bed until she saw you, and you weren’t here! I had to just go ahead and put her to bed without you with her crying for you! Where even were you?!” You say, trying to keep your voice down so you wouldn’t wake up your daughter down the hall.

“I know what I said when telling you what time I would be home, but one of the guys asked if I wanted to stop for food so I did! I didn’t think it would be a big deal, I didn’t think she would still be awake!” Quinn says, while turning to wake towards to the kitchen to put his food up.

Following him into the kitchen hot on his heels, you say, “Not a big deal! You didn’t even tell where you were, if you did I would’ve understood. But I had to tell our daughter that you weren’t home yet and that she has to go bed. She cried for a good fifteen minutes before falling asleep!”

“I’m sorry!”

“I’m not the one you should be saying sorry to. She wanted you so bad tonight, and my own heart broke for her. She missed her dad. I understand that you wanted to stop for food with your teammate, and you should’ve let me know that, but in the morning you need to talk to her,” You say walking towards him.

He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you towards him. Laying his head on your shoulder, he says, “She’s gonna hate me.”

“Quinn, baby, she could never hate you. For one, she’s four years old. For two, she thinks of you has her whole world. All she wanted was you here since that game started. She just missed you, when she wakes up in the morning, she’s going to be so happy to see you, so she could never hate you.” You give him a kiss on the cheek, while rubbing your hands up and down his back. “Now let’s head to bed, and you can talk to her in the morning.”

The sun is shining in through the curtains when you roll over expecting Quinn to be right next to you but your hands just run over cold bedsheets. Sitting up, you hear noises in the baby monitor. Making your way out of the bed, you throw on a hoodie of your husbands and make your way down to your daughters room

Upon entering, you stop and take a look at the scene in front of you. Quinn is sitting in your daughters bed, holding her while she playfully messes with his hair.

He says to her, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here last night baby. Daddy made a mistake, but I couldn’t be anymore happier to see you.”

Your daughter, with a big smile on her face, says, “Its okay daddy! I still love you!” She instantly snuggles into Quinn, and he hugs her extra tight.

“Do you guys have room for one more?” You say shyly from the door which has them both looking at you with smiles on their face.

“Mommy! Daddy’s here!”

“Yes, he is! Isn’t daddy the best!” You say as Quinn pats the spot next to him on the bed.

Wrapping one of his arms around you, while keeping hold with one arm on your daughter, he kisses you on the cheek. “I think mommy gets all the credit for being the best! She can calm us both down,” he says. Then your daughter gets distracted by wanting to show her dad her new stuff animal that was sent by Uncle Luke, you take this moment to talk to Quinn.

“See I told you she would never hate you, she loves you so much,” as you lay your head on his shoulder.

Quinn sighs, “I know, but I guess I just needed to see it first to believe it. I wouldn’t make the same mistake as last night. I hate knowing she was sad over something I did.” He reaches down and gives you a kiss.

“Daddy! Look at the stuffed animal Uncle Lu-Luke sent me!”, as she gets back onto the bed holding the new giraffe stuffed animal.

“Aw baby I love it! Why don’t you bring it over here and we can all snuggle up for a few minutes before we eat breakfast?” The mention of snuggles has her instantly moving to get In between you and Quinn.

As Quinn wraps his arm around the both of you, he knows he will never disappoint any of his girls again.

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes fic #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes blurb #quinn hughes imagines #hockey imagines #imagines #my fics #nhl imagines

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formulaforza · 1 year ago

Text

—everywhere, everything

keep my hand in yours ('til our fingers decompose) pairing: daniel ricciardo x female reader warnings: parent death, angst, language, driving under the influence, underage smoking/drinking love, mackie... 6.6k. part two of this guy (but I think can be read stand-alone). I hope I make u all sad enough that you never ask me for a part two ever again <3

I hear you’re snooping around the old stomping grounds. I’d love to be there when you do it. Bring your dad if he’s free. It’ll be a good night, lots of strawberry wine—the real shit this time. All love, (always your) Danny.

— —

Danny is notably absent from your mom’s funeral. Granted, he is in Budapest at the time, and he had two races this weekend. You know this because you still keep tabs on him, even if he’s not yours to keep tabs on anymore, even if there’s nobody to blame for that but yourself.

If you didn’t know better, hadn’t spotted Grace, Joe and Michelle a dozen or so people back in line to greet you and your dad, you would have been able to convince yourself Danny didn’t have a clue your mom was even sick. She went quick, less than eight months from her death sentence to… well. From death sentence to death.

Two hundred and thirty-one days since her diagnosis means two-hundred and twenty-eight days since you broke things off with Danny. So even if he was in town, you probably wouldn’t have seen him. You wish you would have though, that he would have appeared in the plethora of grieving faces. Not for you, but for her. She always loved him, even before you did.

Grace’s arms feel like the light at the end of a dark tunnel when she finally gets to the front of the line. She squeezes you tight, the only way a mother knows how to, and you cry in her arms. Grace doesn’t tell you how sorry she is, or that your mom loved you so much, or that she’s in a better place now. She just hugs you and wipes away your tears.

“Danny wishes he could be here,” she tells you, but you don’t want to think about him and you don’t want to believe her.

“Tell him I said ‘thank you?’” you say, a forced smile on your face. It’s got to be the hundredth of the afternoon. If there’s one thing your mom is—was. If there’s one thing she was, it’s loved. Tell him I hate him, is what you wish you could say to Grace. Or maybe tell him I love him.

A million and two hugs later and you find yourself missing his arms more than you should. He was always a good hugger, and you could use a good hug right now.

— —

You showed up at the property fifteen minutes after the event started. You’d hoped to slip in and out, to at least be able to say you went, that you tried. You had no intention of trying to find Daniel, and you figured it would be easy to avoid him, especially if you showed up after everyone else did—it’s his show, he’s the man of the hour, everyone will be fighting for his attention.

You don’t even know why you came, really. Maybe it’s to figure out how the hell Daniel even got your address to send the invite in the first place. You’d moved half a dozen times since he last knew you. Or maybe it’s that you don’t believe, even after seeing it with your own eyes, that somebody actually had success with growing berries in the heat. It could be that you just… It could be simple, that you miss your Mom, and that everything about that place reminds you of her.

Whatever the reason, you put on a long, flowing sundress, tied your hair back, and slipped on a pair of comfortable sneakers and a denim jacket. You didn’t even bother to tell your Dad—knew he’d want to catch up with Daniel, or maybe want to strangle Daniel. You didn’t want to give him the chance to do either. You park on the dirt road that leads to the vineyard, because the parking lot is overflowing, a pattern you’re beginning to notice since he’d taken over.

The place looks the same as it did last time you were here. DR3 Wines still adorn the fleet of ATVs out front, and the wooden letters on the perfectly red barn are still perfectly white. You give your name to the woman working the door, regret it as soon as you catch her announcing your presence over the radio-headset she wears.

Momentarily, you consider turning around and walking right back to your car. But, you aren’t one to waste a good outfit, not if you’d gotten all dolled up like this, so you walk into the Barn with your head down.

It smells the same inside; wood, lavender, citronella and alcohol. There’s candles burning to make it feel cozy, but they do a poor job at changing the aroma in the air. The walls are still hung with photos, and the counter is still that slab of wood. It’s exactly the same as it was a few months ago, and manages to remind you of the place you grew up without wearing your childhood memories like a costume.

Daniel has always been easy to find in a room. He’s loud, his voice and his laugh vibrate off the walls of whatever room he’s in. He’s loud and he’s confident and sometimes it feels like he’s the only person in a room that’s really alive. That’s how it felt then, at least.

It’s been thirteen years since you last shared a space with him, but the fact you can hear his laugh on the other side of the crowded room assures you that while everything has changed, some things have stayed exactly the same.

You can’t see him, but man can you hear him.

You sign the guest book—proof, in case anybody asks. Proof that you did show up. It’s the top of a wine barrel, DR3 2023 branded into the oak—two tops, because so many people are here. It’s covered in signatures and messages from people he loves. You feel guilty even signing it, but you do.

Congrats Dan—your marker pauses. You scoff at yourself. Congrats Daniel. Time flies, 13 years! The place looks beautiful. Wishing you continued success, you write, finishing it off with your signature.

He still wears the same cologne, you realize, when you look up and he’s leaning against the table watching you write. He wears the same cologne, and the same smile, even if less crooked. Everything else about him is different. His hair is shorter, eyes older. His arms are covered in art, face is all together thinner, and his five o’clock shadow is less of a pipe dream and more of a full-fledged beard. He’s taller, maybe. Or you’re shorter. It doesn’t really matter, you suppose.

You purse your lips into a curt smile. He matches—you didn’t even know he could smile like that. “Hi, honey,” he says, leaning over to read your message.

“Hi.” “Who’s Daniel?” He teases, the smile on his face growing into one you’re much more familiar with. You look back at your writing, but you don’t laugh. If anything, you’re sure you look a little scared. “I’m teasing.”

“I know,” you nod.

“Okay,” he nods right back, slow, apprehensive over your apprehension.

“Sorry,” you force out a chuckle. “I’m being so weird,” and you adjust the strap on your dress. He shoves his hands in his pocket, rocks back and forth on the sole of his shoes. Do you know how weird it is to be face to face with someone you were head over feet in love with? It’s really fucking weird. You put your best smile on your face, “Hi, sorry,” you continue, opening your arms for what you think might be the most awkward hug you’ve ever given.

He’s quick to pull his hands back out of his pocket, like he’s worried if he doesn’t act fast enough you’re going to rescind the offer.

His touch is uncanny; familiar and comforting and unsettling. It melts the years away and you feel just like you did some twelve years ago when you wished so desperately for one of his hugs. You’re nineteen again, and he’s twenty, and everything feels like it’s going to be okay.

“How are you,” he asks quietly, his arms tight around you. “You look great.”

“I’m okay,” you say over his shoulder, and then again, as if you’re trying to convince yourself: “I’m okay. How are you?”

“Oh, y’know,” he shrugs, pulling away from the hug, gesturing your question away. “Same old, same old.”

“Yeah,” you nod, even though you don’t know. Even though it’s been eleven years since you forced yourself to ignore his existence, since you last kept any sort of tab on him. You can’t get over how different he looks. How you’d still recognize him without a second glance. “You look different.”

He laughs, looks down at himself. At his arms, his hands. He can’t look at his face, but it’s different, too. “Yeah, I guess so, huh?” He keeps looking back at you every time he laughs. He makes sure you’re laughing, or smiling at least, before he lets his slip. “Is your Dad here?”

“No. He uh, he wasn’t feeling well.”

Once upon a time, Daniel could spot your lies from the other side of the vineyard. You get stiff and stuttery, he told you, it’s easy when you know what you’re looking for. That was once upon a time, though, and this is now. Now, you don’t know if Daniel remembers any of those little things about you.

His eyes go momentarily soft, worried, almost. “Just a cold, yeah?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, can I get you a drink? Give you a tour?”

You look around the place—not much to tour. Not when it used to be yours, not when one of his teenaged employees gave you a tour a few months back. He seems so excited about the idea, though, so you go along with it. “Sure. Yeah, that’d be nice.”

“Nice, awesome,” he says, looking around the place like he forgot where everything is. He claps his hands together, pulls them apart into a snap, and points at you with both hands. “Stay here? I’ll be right back.”

“Okay,” you chuckle, and it’s genuine. “Staying here.”

“I know you, Bee,” he says, walking backwards away from you. B. He totally knows you’re full of shit about your Dad having a cold. “Don’t try to sneak out while I’m gone.”

“I won’t.”

“You promise?”

You nod. “I promise.”

— —

You, Daniel, and your Mom worked the closing shift that night. When he was around, that’s almost always how it went, because the two of you were the only ones who’d worked there long enough to know how to properly close up without a babysitter.

Your Mom worked tediously in the office counting all the money—she was the slower counter of your parents, but it wasn’t like anyone was ever sitting around waiting on her. There was always something to be done, and Daniel was always good at making sure those closing tasks took up more than a chunk of the evening.

You’d cleaned inside, swept the floors and vacuumed the rugs and cleaned the tables and the counters. You washed glasses behind the bar and restocked displays. The landline on the counter rang while you were writing up the day’s inventory, and you almost didn’t answer it, but your parents had told you to improve on your customer-service skills, even when you or the customer weren’t on site.

To your surprise, the voice on the other end was Daniel’s. He was calling from the cellar, is too lazy to come over there to get shot down. “Is your Mom finished counting?” He asked, and you pulled the phone away from your ear to try and listen past the office door.

“I think so,” you say, bringing the phone back to your ear. “We should be heading out soon.”

Sometimes you feel like you can hear Danny’s smile. “You wanna do the lock check with me?”

You slot the phone between your shoulder and your ear, returning your hands to the task of finishing up your paperwork for the night. You needed to be done when he got here, or there was no chance your Mom let you go with him. “How do you know I’m done with my shit?”

You can hear the lull of the old beat up golf-cart engine in the background, can almost feel the vibrations, can see clear as day Danny sitting there, lounging on the leather seat—tanned skin, unruly hair, toothy grin. “You always finish fast so you can daydream about your boyfriend,” he says, turning the last word into his own little sing-songy ballad.

Your pen pauses on the paper, and you roll your eyes. “Jake isn’t my boyfriend.”

Danny laughs, and you roll your eyes again, pretend like you aren’t smiling. “Oh? But you knew who I was talking about!”

“Because you never shut up about him being into me.”

“Because he is!”

You set the pen down for good, now, grab the phone again because you want to make sure your next words come across loud and clear, even if it is the millionth time you’ve told him. “He’s my friend, Danny!”

“Oh, come on!” His laugh intensifies. “I don’t think a guy has ever been just friends with you.”

“You’re my friend, aren’t you?”

His laughter quells, and you’re sure he’s picking on the plastic of the steering wheel. There are so many scrapes on it from the same thing. He’s always picking at it, ever since you told him to give his poor nails a rest. He has to destroy something, you suppose—teenage boy and all—but you prefer a destroyed golf cart steering wheel to a destroyed Danny, so you let it slide. He sighs, and then he clears his throat, and the memory of your question dies in the silence. “Are you coming with me or not?”

“Are you coming to get me?”

— —

The air is chilly—nippy almost, especially with the sun dipping below the horizon like it is. You’re walking stride for stride with Daniel over the gravel path to the cellar, glass of sweet pink wine in your hand. He’s taking you to the strawberry field, per your request, because even after tasting it, even after telling you which field it’s in, you still don’t believe him.

“So,” he asks, one hand deep in his pocket, the other hanging in the space between your bodies. He’s very hesitant with you today, you’ve noticed. It’s nothing like the brash boy you called your first love. He’s gentle, softer, like he’s scared of his next words. “Who finally put that ring on your finger?” The threat of a smile is weak, but the idea of it alone is charming.

You look at your free hand, carefully decorated with several different rings. “Which one?”

He drops his head to his shoulder, gives you a pathetic smile and a matching chuckle. “The only one an ex-boyfriend would ask you about, Bee.”

The sunlight—the little bit that’s left of it—catches the diamond on your ring finger. “Oh,” you shrug, dropping it back to your side. “It’s Mom’s.”

“I know,” he nods solemnly, and your head shoots over to look at him. You don’t know why he would remember that. “Who put it there, though?”

A smile pulls on your lips, and you bury it in the lip of your wine glass. “I’m not engaged, if that’s what you’re asking,” you laugh. “I just wear it… I don’t know, it makes me feel close to her.”

Sunsets at the property have always been gorgeous. When you were younger, you thought that maybe it was the most beautiful place in the entire world. The blues and the pinks and the yellows all mix together into some grand watercolor and tonight is no exception.

The silence that lingers in the air should be awkward, but it’s not. It should be harder to be here, to watch the sunset, to walk the paths you have memorized, to stand next to Daniel after all these years. It’s not hard, though. It’s comfortable, like it was when you were sixteen and seventeen and eighteen and barely nineteen. Like it was all the time you knew him, even before you loved him.

“I’m sorry,” he finally speaks. “She was really cool.”

You chuckle softly. It’s a familiar routine, consoling those attempting to console you about her death. “That’s what everyone says,” you say, even though Daniel might be the first person to posthumously describe your mom as cool. Lovely, you’d gotten more times than you could count. Beautiful and kind and oh honey, she loved you so much, you knew already. She was really cool, that’s a Danny-original if you’ve ever heard one.

“I should have been at the funeral.”

“It’s okay,” you nod, because his presence wouldn’t have changed that your Mom was lovely and beautiful and kind and that she wasn’t around to be any of those things anymore. There wasn’t anything Daniel could have done to remedy that reality. “You were busy. We weren’t together,” and before he can come back with something, insists that it’s a bigger deal some decade later than it was, you change the subject. “What about you, though? Putting rings on anyone’s fingers these days?”

He laughs. A person can only get poetic about Daniel’s laugh so many times before it’s easier to just leave it at that. He laughs, everyone around him lights up, and he laughs some more. “Believe it or not, my work-life balance isn’t super great at fostering long-term relationships.”

You don’t exactly know what Daniel’s work-life balance looks like. The last time you paid any attention, he was racing with Toro Rosso. Every update you’d heard since had been one you weren’t looking for—commercials and posters and billboards and word-of-mouth; more than a couple ex-boyfriends and a few stray friends.

You never cared much about racing. It was Daniel you cared about.

There aren't a lot of specifics you remember about Daniel’s schedule, but you remember that he was almost always coming or going. There wasn’t much staying, and that was before he’d even made it to the big show. “You mean, women like it when their partners are around for most of the year?”

“They do, yeah,” he nods, dimples digging into his cheeks. “Crazy, right?”

“Crazy.”

— —

Danny didn’t go down without a fight. He caught what had to have been the first flight home—home, you’re not sure that he can call Perth home now that he doesn’t live here. He caught the first flight to you, threw wood chips at your window at three-in-the morning. He didn’t need to wake you up, it’s been two weeks since you had any kind of meaningful sleep. You spend the majority of your time in bed looking at the ceiling fan spin or staining the sheets with your tears.

You let him throw mulch for twenty minutes though, hoping that maybe he’ll give up and leave so you don’t have to face him.

You’d done the breaking up over the phone for a reason. It wasn’t that you couldn’t wait until whenever he was home next. You could. It was that you couldn’t break up with him while looking him in the eyes, and you knew it.

Eventually, though, you pull your pajama-clad frame out from under the warm covers, drag your feet the entire way to the window, pulling the curtains open just enough to confirm what you already knew—that it was him in the driveway. His entire face relaxes when he sees you there, forcing the window open. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“What the fuck am I doing?” He scoffs. “What the fuck are you doing?”

You cross your arms over your chest. The night air is cold and your pajamas are scarce. “I’m trying to sleep.”

He rolls his eyes, always dramatic, always over-the-top. “Come down here, honey.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

You stand there in silence, shivering in your bedroom window. He stands there in silence, thick jacket on and a handful of wood chips from the garden in your driveway. It’s a stalemate, and you don’t know which of you is more exhausted. Appearance points to him, but you dread that fact that you’re standing, that you’re tired enough to give up the fight this quick.

“Fine,” you relent, and it’s less than two minutes before you’re running into him on the back porch, slowly closing the sliding patio door behind you so as to not alert anyone else in the house of his presence. “What do you want?”

“Where are your clothes?” He asks, and is already taking his coat off to wrap around your frame. You huff and puff the entire time he’s doing it, because your lack of clothing was a choice—you were hopeful that he wouldn’t keep you long if you were shivering.

“What do you want, D?”

“I want you to talk to me,” he says. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.”

Your lip trembles, and you bite down on it to try and stop it, chew on the skin until you taste copper and then it still trembles. You don’t look at him, you can’t. “You can’t fix it.”

“No, no,” he argues, grabbing your elbow in a plea, stepping closer to you, speaking hardly above a whisper. “Just tell me, baby.”

You yank your arm away, tone a direct contrast to his when you insist: “You can’t fix it this time, okay!? Nobody can fix it.” You point an accusatory finger, like there’s actually something he’s done to deserve this. There isn’t, there never will be. “You can’t fucking fix everything just because you want to.”

He matches, points his finger at you, presses it into the middle of your chest. Your heart races. “You can’t just fucking break up with me because you want to.”

You swat his hand away, offended by the accusation that you wanted this, that any part of you is enjoying this, finding relief in this. You hate this. Fucking loathe it, but it doesn’t change any of the facts. “I don’t want to,” your lips downturn into a frown, all pathetic and trembled, and your voice cracks and shakes half as much as your lips. The tears that burn in your eyes are reflected back in his, tired and bloodshot and wet.

“Then don’t do it,” he pleads.

You gulp around the lump in your throat, voice leaving your body meekly through tears. “I have to.”

“No, you don’t,” he assures you quickly, his hands slotting on either side of your face, the pads of his thumbs wiping your tears, his fingers locking into the hair at the nape of your neck. He shakes his head before he speaks, brown eyes searching yours, begging you to change your mind. “You don’t.”

His hands on your face are what push you over the edge, turn you from poised and sniffly to half-wrecked—choking on sobs and swallowing snot. It all hits you at once, all the weeks of testing, the days of trying to come to terms with a diagnosis, the hours spent grappling with the fact that nothing will ever be the same about you. You’re changed, now, and you’re only going to continue to change. It’s not Daniel’s responsibility to see you through any of this fucking shit. “I do, I do,” you sob. “I have to, I’m so sorry, I have to.”

He presses his forehead against yours, your tears mixing with his every time your noses bump. It calms you, if only slightly, and your eyes close, mind focused on remembering this, on remembering what it feels like to have his skin on yours, to feel his voice in your bones, to breathe in the same air, the same space, the same atoms.

Your breath is shaky, but the pattern is steady. In, out. In, out. Your nose is so stuffed you can’t breathe through it. Your lips are all but touching his, a stray tremble holding the power to force them together. You don’t know if you want to kiss him or not, if it would make things better or so much worse.

He swallows hard, pulling your faces apart. “I love you,” he mutters softly, like a wounded animal, and then he presses a long, hard kiss into your forehead.

You sniffle, your hands holding onto his wrists. “I’m sorry.”

He nods, drops his arms, your hands falling into his. “Yeah.”

He lets your hands go, lets you go. You feel like you might be sick watching him walk down the steps of the patio, along the path of pavers to the gate. A shiver runs up your spine, and you pull his jacket closed over your chest. His jacket.

You wipe a new set of tears from your cheek with the back of your hand. “Your jacket,” you sniffle, “hold on.”

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t even turn back to face you. “Keep it,” he says, unlatching the gate and slipping through to the other side. You sigh, and then you cough, and then you cry some more before finally finding the ability to move again, to go back inside and up to your bedroom, and that was that. That was the last time you saw Danny. The last moment that he was yours.

— —

You’re walking back from the unbelievable strawberry field, quickly approaching the still lively barn, people and smiles and conversations pouring out into the adjacent spaces. Someone appears in front of you with a camera, with two cameras—one professional, and one a cheap polaroid. Smile, they said, and you laughed, your cheeks burning red.

Daniel slinks his arm over your shoulder, and you step closer to his side. He flashes a toothy grin and a shaka sign to the camera. You hear the shutter of the camera take a dozen photos, and then the photographer holds up the polaroid—one for the road, she says, and Daniel pulls you that little bit closer, you blush that little bit harder.

There’s a flash, and then you both relax, the photo printing out of the bottom of the camera. She holds it out Daniel, but he nudges you with his elbow to take it. You do, even though you aren’t sure you want it.

You shake the polaroid while the two of you make your way into the barn. “What do I do with this?” You ask, looking carefully at the developed print.

Daniel shrugs, leaning over. You flip the photo in his direction so he doesn’t have to lean as far, but he still does. “It’s cute,” he says. “You don’t want it?”

“I mean, I’ll take it, but…” But. But I’m going to throw it away when I get home. But it only reminds me of you. But it only represents what won’t be.

He looks to the wall of photos behind the counter, eyeing the display carefully. You follow his sight line, your eyes going to the exact place you remember the photos of you being. You don’t know why you’re surprised that they’re still there, like you knowing they exist means they’d vanish. “Hang it up,” he says.

You laugh. “Where?”

Daniel shrugs. “Anywhere you want.”

— —

The best part about only being able to afford cheap workers, was that you spent every day at the property with a new teenager looking to have just as much fun as you were. Between that, and the plethora of college kids that were constantly leaving to go back to school, to get a grown-up job, to get any job that paid more than your family could offer—there was always an opportunity for going away parties. And party, you did.

You and your coworkers turned friends had slept down by the river more summer nights than you could count, hiding six-packs in the staff locker-room and hiding ziploc bags of joints behind the six-packs.

Tonight, the going-away party is to honor someone whose face you won’t remember in a year, much less thirteen. He’d worked there for the holidays and not much more, and there wasn’t much memorable about him.

The bonfire on the back of the property snaps and crackles, sparking off into the night and lights everyone in flickers of orange and yellow. The breeze has picked up after dark, and the tank-top and shorts you’d donned earlier in the day aren’t appropriate any more, one of Danny’s hoodies—a purple one that sits in his locker just for you to steal and smells like weed and wood from all the past nights just like this one—takes the chill out of the night and keeps the goosebumps off your exposed legs.

The sky is clear and cloudless, a big moon staring back at you and a million shining stars fill the night sky. It’s times like these you think there’s no prettier place on Earth, nights like these where you feel completely rich.

Two joints are being passed around the circle lazily, laughter and conversation filling the air. The first one comes your way from the left, from Daniel. He takes a long hit, the embers at the end of the paper burning orange with his inhale. He holds it in, nodding his way through someone else’s joke, and exhaling into a laugh.

He looks at you, hesitates to hand it over. “I really don’t want a lecture from your parents tomorrow morning,” he teases, playful smile pulling on his lips, mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes. “They won’t know,” you insist, to no avail. Daniel chuckles, but holds his resolve and passes the joint around you to the next person.

Undeterred, you keep your eyes on the joint that moves clockwise, that comes to you from the other direction, a path with no Danny-sized roadblock. With practiced ease, you take a hit, exhaling slowly, savoring the warmth in your chest. You meet Danny’s eyes on exhale, find them half-amused and half-concerned, brows raised and smile drawn.

“Whatcha got there?” He laughs, gently taking the joint from her. “I told you not to,” he continues, taking a hit himself before passing it along again. You grin, a wave of giddiness washing over you. It always goes like that when he laughs—makes you all warm and fuzzy and silly.

“It’ll be okay, Danny-boy,” you laugh, leaning against him. Lazily, without hesitation, he tosses his arm over your shoulder and pulls you that much closer. You like being closer, can feel his laugh instead of just hearing it. You like the way his arm rests on your shoulder, the way his fingers trace patterns over the fabric of his sweatshirt, every touch echoing on your skin for minutes. You like being close, even if it makes your palms a little sweatier and your heartbeat a little faster. You could get used to being closer, you think.

The fire is starting to die out now, and the air gets colder. You wonder how long your parents waited up for you to get home. The original excuse was that Daniel had forgotten the lock-check, that you wanted to come along and really, it’s no problem to drive her home. After about fifteen minutes, you’d snuck away from the newly-built fire to make a phone call, to let them know you were grabbing food on the way home and don’t wait up for me. You’re sure they did, though, even if only for a while longer.

Anyway, the air is colder and the joints have been smoked through and the beers have been drunk—not by you, you’re too messy when you’re crossed. And not by Daniel, either, who refuses to drive drunk but insists on driving high.

You yawn under Daniel’s arm, find a way to somehow lean in closer. “Sleepy?” he asks, and you nod. Carefully, like he’s done it a million times before, he presses a kiss into the crown of your head. It’s not the millionth time, it’s not even the second time he’s kissed any part of you. It’s the first time you've felt the press of his lips and you think that you’ll feel it there forever. “You wanna go?”

“No,” you say. “I’ll stay, make sure the fire gets out and everything.”

It’s not much longer, anyway, until the fire is being doused with water bottles and beer and everyone is taking turns spraying the same perfumes and colognes over their clothes in a poor attempt to mask the smell of smoke and weed.

Daniel drives you home. It’s not the first time you’ve been the passenger in his old Ford Bronco. It’s not even the first time you’ve been in the truck while he was high. Usually, car rides with Danny consist of cranked down windows and loud music, of louder conversations and excessive laughter. This drive is quiet, though.

His hands are steady on the wheel, eyes focused on the road ahead. There’s no music, the windows are up, and he doesn’t talk. You watch him carefully from the passenger seat, study him in your paranoia. You haven’t done anything, you don’t think. There’s no reason for him to be mad at you. Unless there is.

“Did you have a good time?” You ask. Danny nods. “That’s good.”

He turns to face you at a stop sign. “Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m trying to focus.”

“It’s okay,” you nod.

“It’s harder,” he explains. “It’s hard with you here.”

— —

The evening you’d anticipated is far from the evening that unfolds. Fifteen minutes, maximum, in and out. That was the plan. But then Daniel—Daniel, and all the far-fetched dreams of him making himself at home in your life, all the passing thoughts you’d had over the years about the what-ifs; the grocery bills and the taxes and the white wine and the rusty barn doors. He glues you to his side for hours that feel like minutes.

The event is winding down, people keep coming up to him, firm pats on the back and handshakes and hugs goodbye. They tell him how great the place is, how great the wine is, how great he is, and you move around like his shadow, smiling awkwardly whenever someone catches your eye and waiting for the next joke Daniel has to crack quietly, just to you.

You stand at a high-table next to him, elbows on the tabletop, shoulders bumping everytime one of you moves. There were people around the table, a reason—an excuse—for the proximity, but they’re long gone now. “You know,” Daniel says quietly, dropping his head against his hands, speaking to nobody in the room but you. “I’ve missed you a lot.”

“Yeah,” you nod, speak just as softly. “Me too.”

He takes a long drink from the wine glass in front of him. Liquid courage, you know now, for what he was going to do next. The glass returns to the tablecloth with a soft pat, and he lets out a heavy exhale. “I heard there’s a new coffee place opening in Northbridge?” He asks, and you assume it’s because he knows your neighborhood, wants to know more about it. The wine has made you naive, or maybe you’d just pushed the reality of his implication so far from your mind that it’s an impossible thought.

“Yeah,” you nod. The new coffee shop in Northbridge is a seven minute walk from your apartment, and is on your way to work. You’ve been eyeing the place since the empty building went up for lease. “It’s got this super cute bakery right next door,” you add. “I think they opened last week.”

Daniel nods. “I’d love to try it out.”

“Yeah,” you continue, still genuine and naive and oh-so silly. “You should. I’ve heard good things.”

He laughs, then. Laughs this specific kind of Daniel laugh that you used to get so excited to hear. It meant he was going to do something for—or to—you. He’d laughed like that before he kissed you for the first time, and he’d laughed like that while orange juice ran down his arm and he asked you out for the hundredth time. He’d laughed like that on every anniversary, every birthday, every holiday. It’s Danny’s you laugh. “I’d need someone to go with, though,” he says. And the laugh and the words and the whole thing clicks. Daniel is trying to ask you out. “I don’t really know my way around Northbridge.”

A lie, objectively. One that confirms the assumption you’d just jumped to. Daniel’s first apartment was in Northbridge. He lived eleven minutes from where you live now. He knows the place like the back of his own hand, knows the streets like he used to know you.

You nod into the bottom of your wine glass, watching the liquid spin around the clear glass. “You don’t?”

He purses his lips, looks all deep in thought. “No,” he shakes his head. “No, I don’t think I do.”

“Oh,” you frown, your eyes meeting his. It’s really hard to mess with him when he looks at you like that. Hard, but not impossible. “My dad’s usually around.”

He chuckles. “Your dad, huh?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you nod, a smile pulling impossibly hard on your lips. “Retirement and all, you know.”

“Oh, sure.”

“I guess…” you shrug, stop spinning your glass and set it down altogether. You push it slowly across the tablecloth towards the center. “I could always show you around, too.”

He leans back, stands up straight and scratches his beard, makes a piss-poor attempt at wiping the dimpled smile off his face when he cocks his head to the side and says, “As much as I like your dad…”

“As much as you like my dad.”

And, because Daniel was never really Daniel, because he’s always going to be your Danny, no matter the time or the distance or anything else that should get in the way, he says: “You’ve always been my honeybee.”

— —

“Don’t call me that, Mom,” you shouted from the office, gathering your morning gear. You were working tours with Danny, today, and the two of you had spent all morning bickering over who gets to be lead and who has to be secondary guide. While you shoved the batteries into the walkie-talkies, you could overhear Danny successfully pleading with your Mom. Honeybee, she’d called out to you. Let Danny take Lead today, won’t you?

She laughs. You roll your eyes, slipping behind the counter where she leans, where Danny lounges on a stool. You toss Danny’s walkie at his chest, and he catches it before it hits him. She raises her brows pointedly, meets Danny’s eyes in some shared language, a shared silent remark about you. “Why not?”

“Because. It sounds like something Grandma would say.”

Your mom smiles, twirls the end of your ponytail around her finger. “But you’re so sweet”

Danny chokes on his laugh, shooting up straight in his seat to clear his throat, to cough into his elbow. “She is NOT sweet.”

You scowl, shove his shoulder gently. It only makes him, and your mom, laugh harder. “Hey!”

“You make my life sweet, baby girl,” she hums.

Danny nods, falling back into his comfortable spot, crossing his arms over his chest. “You’re kinda like a bee,” he says, leaning back even further. Your entire day would be made by him losing his balance and falling flat on his ass. “You make her life sweet but for me…” he pauses. “You’re just this annoying little buzzing I can’t shoo away.”

Silently, you hold up both middle fingers to him, walking backwards out from behind the counter, towards the back door. Your mom only laughs at you, always laughs at you and Danny. “Love you, Bee,” she calls to you, and winks at Danny.

“Yeah,” he calls, the stool creaking underneath him as he properly stands up. “Love ya, Bee!”

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archangeldyke-all · 6 months ago

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hi hi hii sweetheart. Oh my lord. Your writing is literally so good, you honestly deserve the best, mind blowing, legs shaking, knees bucking, cant even talk orgasm. I'm so sorry. someone had to say ittttt. But I was wonderingggg😋 could you maybe do a drabble with reader and sevika are selling their house because maybe they have a little fucker on the way and they need more room, so they are goin through the house one last time and sevika starts js randomly naming out all her favorite times they have had sex in each place of the house...and she recalls like Hella details not even reader remembers. (Reader has pregnant mush-brain.) But could sevika be like..."wanna find a place we haven't fucked before..?" AND ITS LIKE THE HARDEST THING TO FIND BECAUSE THEY HAVE LITERALLY DONE IT EVERYDAY. But they end up finding a spot and sevika gives reader defo on the top 10 best sex they have had in that house. Could sevika maybe have a penis or even js her strap on in this...?:3 ANYWAY I WOULD LOVE THIS BUT IF YOU CANT DO IT ITS OKAY TOO!! I love you so so much your writings literally amazing!!!

this is so cute i love it!! (and thank u so much, i'm so glad u like my stuff eeek!!<3)

men and minors dni

you should probably be feeling a little more sentimental and sad about leaving behind the house you and sevika have been living in for seven years now.

these four walls have been your home through some of the best days of your life: meeting sevika, marrying sevika, realizing you're pregnant with sevika's baby-- it all happened here. you guys built your lives together here, and overtime, they became so intertwined and connected that you've become a 'we' rather than a 'me.'

but in all honesty-- you're thrilled to be leaving.

you hate this house. the floors are slanted, the roof is leaky, the windows aren't weatherproofed, so it's freezing in the winter and boiling in the summer. you haven't been able to take a bath in the tub for three years now because there's cracks in the caulk and any water above an inch deep starts to flood the bathroom. it's a shitty house, and you've been wanting to leave for years.

sevika's always been the one to convince. it's not that she loves your house, it's that she doesn't want to put the effort into finding a new one. but, upon the two of you finding out that your family will be growing in a few short months, sevika finally relented.

and now, just ten minutes down the street from this place, you've bought a beautiful family home, big enough for the two of you, your future baby, and whatever other family members (both human and animal) that might spawn in the future.

your inspector gave it an A+, the yard is spacious, the floors are level, there's not just one, but three bathtubs,-- and the one in the main en-suite is like a hot tub-- big enough for you and your wife to fit and lounge. you're so fucking excited to move in, that you're not even a little sad to leave behind the old space.

sevika's been eyeing you with worry all day as she lugs boxes and furniture to the moving van. she's waiting for your pregnancy hormones to hit you and for you to become a blubbering mess at the thought of leaving behind your place. you can't blame her, your pregnancy hormones can and have turned you into a puddle of tears over much less. just last night you cried for thirty minutes because one of the celery stalks in the bunch you'd bought was wilted, and all his celery friends were still green and healthy, going on living without him.

but, really, you're fine.

she's not buying it.

"sevika, for the last fucking time, i'm okay!" you groan. the house is mostly empty now, just a few boxes and some lamps left. sevika's taking a snack break, one of her arms wrapped around you as she looks at you with concern.

"i'm just saying babe, we can't come back after tonight, so if you need any, like, sentimental pictures, or a good cry--"

"oh my god!" you laugh, elbowing her. "sevika, i'm okay, really. i'm so fucking excited to go, i'm so excited for our future. i'll cherish the memories this place gave us forever, but i don't really care about the place itself." you shrug.

sevika studies you carefully, and then she pouts a bit. "it doesn't make you a little sad?" she asks. you raise your eyebrow, surprised to hear your usually-so-stoic wife is feeling ...sentimental?

"what makes me sad?"

"babe, this house is the first place we ever fucked in!" she whines. you burst into laughter. sevika points to the empty bedroom behind her. "you're not sad to leave that room behind? after all the times i fucked you into incoherence in there?" she asks, her eyes wide and sparkly like she's actually a little emotional. you can't stop laughing as you reach up to cup your wife's cheek.

"honey, you're gonna be fucking me into incoherence for the rest of our lives." you remind her. sevika smiles a bit at this.

"yeah, but... we had so many good times in this house." she sighs wistfully. you chuckle, pecking her cheek.

"we did. remember when you dented the drywall with the headboard?" you ask. sevika giggles a bit, her gaze snapping back down to yours, her hand reaching around your body to start gently stroking your ever-growing belly.

"'course i remember, i had to plaster it back up myself." she chuckles. "remember when we almost started a fire when we were getting kinky with the wax?" she asks. you blink up at her, drawing a blank and pouting.

"no." you whine. "tell me, it sounds hot." you demand. your pregnancy's been blessedly healthy, but the one symptom that's hit you hard is your baby-brain. sometimes, you're just total mush in the head. sevika's been patient and kind each time. right now, she just smiles salaciously at you and presses you against the counter.

"you don't remember?" she asks. "our second anniversary, we wanted to try wax play? you got the special lotion candles and everything, wore those pretty lacy panties i ruined last year on your birthday, and i let you tie my hands up." you smile, the memory slowly coming back to you, heat building between your legs as she speaks. "anyways... it was goin' real good until i kicked over an unattended candle." she whispers.

you break into laughter-- the memory suddenly flooding back to you. "shit, i miss that blanket." you snort, remembering the way the comforter seemingly spontaneously combusted.

"you were screaming as you tried to pat out the fire, and i was tied to the fucking bed that was goin' up in flames-- i thought i was gonna fuckin' die." sevika cackles.

you snort, and kiss her cheek. "i saved you, though." you brag. she laughs.

"yeah, you did."

"c'mon, tell me another." you demand.

sevika raises an eyebrow. "another what?"

"another sex memory." you say. sevika giggles. "they're all fresh and new to me, i like remembering how fun and hot we are."

"hmm..." sevika thinks, her eyes darting around the house. she snatches your wrist and drags you to the bathroom. "i'm still pretty convinced i got you knocked up in here six months ago."

"which time?" you ask. sevika smirks, kissing your cheek and pinching your ass.

"exactly." she teases. you snort. "no, but for real, there was this one time-- i'd just finished my workout and you'd had a big glass of 'shower wine'" sevika puts this in air-quotes, teasing the habit you indulge in each night, "and i fucked you against the sink so good that you had to get right back in the shower once i was done with you. fuck, i came my fucking brains out, honey, i couldn't speak for like ten minutes afterwards." your thighs clench a bit at the memory, your stomach bursting into butterflies at the way sevika's voice has gotten all heavy. her eyes are dark when she looks over at you. "and then, boom. two weeks later you're pregnant." she says, grinning.

you giggle. "you think that was the one, huh?" you ask. she nods.

"what's your theory?"

"i always thought it happened when you fucked me on the couch while we were watching that stupid cop-buddy movie." you say. sevika laughs.

"so you remember that-- a lazy, unromantic fuck after a long weekend of both of us lounging and not showering-- but you don't remember the good ones?" she asks. you just giggle and shrug again.

"they're all good ones with you, baby." you say. sevika's teasing look melts away, something needier taking it's place. you know what she's going to ask for, so you speak before she can. "you think there's a place in the house we haven't fucked?" you ask.

sevika blinks, considering it for a second. "i dunno."

"i wouldn't wanna leave the house with a room un-fucked in, sev, that would be a real shame."

"fuck, it really would, wouldn't it?" she asks. you snort and nod.

"so?" you ask. "you think we've checked all the boxes or can you think of a place we might need to--"

"the attic. you think you can crawl up there in your state?" she inturrupts you, rubbing your stomach as she eyes the little hatch in the ceiling of the hall. you burst into laughter.

"the attic!?"

"c'mon!" she laughs, jumping up and grabbing the string, pulling the stairs down. "you go first, i'll catch you if you fall. she says, steadying your hips as she walks you up the first few steep steps. you can't stop laughing as your wife basically herds you up into the attic.

you've never been up here, execpt for the few times you've had to put a pot down during a rain storm to stop the leaks from coming down into your home. it's dingy and dusty, and you can't even stand up straight-- you have to crawl to the end of the small storage space so sevika can fit up beside you.

she seems just as disgruntled with her choice as you are, but she's determined to make it work, quickly stripping herself of her shirt and laying it down behind you as a blanket. you giggle. "lay down." she requests, holding the back of your head as you lower yourself down so you don't bonk it on any beams or bars.

you can't see her like this. you're flat on your back, and your stomach is huge. you don't know what she's planning, so it's a shock when sevika starts tugging at your pants.

you burst into giggles, lifting your hips up to help her. "what's your plan here, babe?" you ask as she starts kissing your bare legs.

she hums against your thigh, considering your question. she trails a hand up your thigh, teasing your cunt with a feather-light touch, before lifting her mouth from your leg to speak.

"'m gonna get you knocked up again." she says.

you burst into laughter, and you can see sevika lift up from between your legs to admire your smile. you grin down at her, and widen your legs. "give it your best shot, baby." you choke out between laughs.

sevika, grins, and then ducks back down to disappear beneath your tummy and bury her face in your cunt.

fuck, you're horny. the baby's been giving you crazy hormones, and while sometimes that means you can cry at sad celery, other times it means you're so insanely horny you could cum from a strong breeze.

"oh, fuck, baby!" you cry as sevika buries her tongue inside of you. she hums, reaching up to start working her fingers in the mix.

"gonna cum already?" she grunts before ducking back down and sucking your clit. you smack your hand against the dusty floor beneath you-- too round to reach down and tug her hair like you want to.

"fuck, 'm gonna cum all over your fuckin' face, sev." you whine, your brain turning to mush as you get closer. she groans against you at your words, and you take it as a sign to just let your mouth run. "'y feel so fuckin' good, 'y fuck me so good, shit, sevika, sev!" you scream as you cum.

before you can even ride out the first wave of your high, sevika's jumping on top of you to mount you so quickly that her head smacks against one of the low hanging beams in front of you.

you gasp-- still cumming and horrified at the loud "SMACK!" that rings out as you watch your wife's head collide with the beam-- then you burst into pitying, whiny giggles as sevika curses.

"shit!" she groans, reaching up to hold her forehead. you reach up to cup her face, laughing and shivering and somehow still cumming.

"are you okay?" you giggle, pulling her down to kiss the bruise already forming on her forehead. she grunts.

"i'm fine."

"liar." you giggle. you tilt her head from side to side, giving her pupils a good look as a half-assed concussion exam. "poor baby. need me to take you to the urgent care? see if you got a concussion?"

"i'm fine. just need to put my dick in you." she grunts.

you laugh, but shut your legs before she can sink into you. she huffs and glares up at you, and you pinch her chin. "remind me to check you out for real once we're done, okay?" you ask. she nods. you glare at her, knowing she won't. "sevika, you're my brain until the baby comes, i don't care if you don't want me to remember, you really gotta remind me. if you have a concussion and die because i let you fuck me instead of taking you to the hospital-- how am i supposed to explain that to the baby?" you ask.

sevika groans. "okay! okay! i know! ''re you gonna lemme fuck you or what?" she asks.

you pucker your lips, and sevika's annoyance melts as she swoops down to kiss you. you hum happily and open your legs, smiling up at your wife. "okay." you agree. sevika grins, and then she sinks into you with one smooth thrust.

you both gasp, your open mouths just a breath apart from each other as sevika starts to work her hips against yours. "fuck." you whine. sevika smirks down at you.

"fuck." she agrees.

your thighs are shaking-- her cock fills you up perfectly, like she's made for you, made for stretching you just right. each of her thrusts is accompanied by a wet smack, and you bury your face against sevika's shoulder in embarrassment as the wet sounds grow louder. she chuckles.

"you've been fuckin' leaky since i knocked you up. your cunt's so fuckin' needy, isn't it? already put a baby in it and it's just droolin' for more." she grunts against your ear. you cum the second the words leave her mouth, your nails sinking into her shoulders as you shake apart. sevika grins down at you. "fuck, it's so fuckin' cute how easy you are when you're carryin' my kid. i just put it in babe, you're already cumming?" she teases again.

you bite her neck, relishing in the way her breath hitches as you try to collect yourself, then hiking your leg up over her hips and gripping her hair in your hands. "it's your fault." you whimper as you try to catch your breath. "you knocked me up 'n now i'm fuckin' stupid and horny and-- and you feel so good." you whine.

sevika shivers on top of you, and you tug her hair harder.

"'m yours, baby." you whimper. "all yours."

that's the final nail in the coffin-- sevika screams a "fuck!" as she cums at your words. you grin, clenching around her cock and giggling at the way her arms nearly give out beneath her. "you're an evil woman." she sighs appreciatively. "i love you so much."

you laugh, and sevika ducks down to kiss your exposed neck. "'m your evil woman." sevika's dick makes one more feeble twitch inside of you at your words, the reminder that you're hers. you giggle in delight at the feeling.

"damn right you are." she mumbles, grinning.

you sigh as the euphoria of your orgasms wears off and the hard floor beneath you starts to kick in. "you might need to carry me back down the attic steps."

sevika bursts into giggles. "you might need to take me to the hospital. i can't tell if i'm seeing stars because i just came so hard or if it's a concussion."

you groan, and sevika muffles her giggles against your neck.

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