#lol I’ll never let him live that one down
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whereispearlescentmoon · 2 days ago
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Pearl Wild Life Session 6 Live Reaction
Title has me scared, thumbnail has me hyped. Murder camel?? But also Loss??? | | |I
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Yay trap day!
Ooo our only choices are Gem and Lizzie!
Meeting time! We have a six person team that’s literally crazy. Grandpa and Ghost are here.
Not them being liars in chat lol “This is crazy!” “no way” “YOU GUYS DONT HAVE THIS?” “that was scary for a second” the power of having so many people is you can just lie.
PEARL STOP GOING PLACES ALONE! THIS IS HOW WE DIE PEARL!
Hi Billy! Hi cows!
Bluetooth redstone!
BILLY NO!
GUARDIAN AND PIGLINS AND PILLAGERS??
Billy is a donkey now??
New camel duo!!
OG CAMEL DUO YAY!
“How much do you hate me today Gem?” “A lot!” We may be on a camel but the divorce is still on!
“You know why though? I’ve reasons today. I have reason. I’ve reflected. Do you remember last session when you couldn’t remember, you thought you put your eye into the portal! Do you remember that?” “Ohhh but we weren’t even there for you putting the eyeball into that!” “Did you even look me in the face during our murder camel happenings?” “Yeah we had such a good time! It was so much fun!” “Do you remember what my face looked like?” “Oh. I forgot about your skin.” “Are you guys bonding?” “No, not bonding at all Impulse. This is so sad” “Okay and then other than that!” “It’s okay she’s gonna talk about it Impulse.” “You 2v1’d me! I’m still holding a grudge about that! And you know about holding grudges across seasons!” “Let’s put this straight! I didn’t 2v1 you. I let Scar kill you, I watched.” “No, I remember specifically you hitting me once!” “Just once! Just one little wack!” “It was not a regen based season!” “I sat the dogs down, Gem. You had so many hearts, you were gonna live!” “Once was enough!” “You were fine, you see look at that! We’re thriving!” You’re both right and both wrong. The best kind of argument.
“I’m just saying, I’ll forgive you if you actually 1v1v1v whatever me and not 2v1.” “It seems kinda like we’re trying to kill each other at that point. Seems kinda against the point, no? Right?” “Yeah, we have to die Pearl, that’s the game.” “Seems like there’s only resolution after the game, right?” “We can die six times, we don’t have to die.” “I CANT DIE SIX TIMES? I can die twice!” “You can die once.” “Okay, 1v1 me right now Gem.” “Okay!” “You were too all into that.” “Well. It’s high stakes for you. We’ve PvPed on Hermitcraft, it’s about 50/50 who wins who loses.” “Yeah but I’m yellow.” You two are going to drive me insane. SHES OFFERING YOU A SOLUTION PEARL PLEASE I KNOW ITS HIGH STAKES BUT THE DRAMA WOULD BE DELISH EITHER WAY!
Oh no what happens if Billy becomes hostile. Do we have to kill him?
Lizzie sacrificed herself to Jimmy! Gem is the last dark green…
Impulse and Pearl trapping together! And failing!
“You don’t need Impulse! You’re capable!” “Clearly not!” Seems like you weren’t there for her 27 fails against Lizzie last session lol.
“Two hunks on the hump” martyn why
“Puppy! Awwwww”
All that argument about the cows was for nothing…. We made enemies with Gem and Joel for nothing…
A positive shiny duo interaction? In my wild life? (Ignore that she called Gem a rat and tried to kill her it’s fine) AND THEY GOT ON A CAMEL AFTER!
Tango on the camel! A new murder buddy! Hi Skizzy! Can’t wait to watch other povs and see her camel scooting across the ground lol.
SKIZZ GOT THE GEM KILL YAY! Pearl didn’t aww
THERES A WARDEN WHY DOES THIS KEEP HAPPENING IN THIS SERIES!
Oh it’s Tango, Pearl and Etho! That’s the perfect trio to encounter a warden! The decked out winner, Queen, and game master lol
Oh great they name tagged it so he can never leave. Beautiful.
Pearl’s immunity to warden fear is real and true. I do not believe Grian even a little bit. No one should get near the warden lol.
SKIZZ RUN SKIZZ RUN SKIZZ WHY YOU JUST GOT BACK TO GREEN
Skizz, Scott and Pearl slowly tridenting a warden to death is so funny. PEARL DO NOT GET CLOSER PEARL!
Oh she got the totem! Yay!! I should have believed Grian!
A creeper claims another kill. Oh BigB with a creeper! He doesn’t get a life cause Skizz was light green tho.
Ah! A pit trap on the creeper farm! And a trap on the wheat! This whole base is rigged to kill and that’s wonderful.
Scar died to a Vex? Ironic. And Etho to a Skellyboy!
Ooo Skizz on red!
PEARL WHY DO YOU WANT TO START A RAID??
“Pearl and I are off to cause chaos!” Welcome to the summary of Impulse and Pearl’s wild life season. Aw the raid isn’t working :( NEVER MIND ITS WORKING NOW SCRAM
Jimmy was killed by bloop?
“You know I want you to win the series!” AWW SHE GAVE HIM HER TOTEM! THEY ARE BESTIES! I LOVE THEM!
Skizz is gone! Aw! Jimmy is officially the highest rank he’s ever been btw.
It’s a birthday cake! Yay!
Since when was Lizzie on red? Hello?
Pearl failing to kill… again. She’s so washed up (affectionate)
Trip cancelled! Trip cancelled! That editing was hilarious with the music stopping.
Pearl you will not be able to successfully trap Gem. I think we have to give up at some point. (This is a joke)
“Pearl, Scar wants me to kill you and I said no way” “Why would he want to kill me? I haven’t done anything to him.” “He said you want out of the series, so, and I said no that’s a lie.” Nosey Neighbors crumbs.
Calling a lie a “porky” is the most Aussie thing I’ve ever heard.
Omg she stole Gem’s camel. There’s some symbolism there I guess.
Yay Bdubs ally! I dub thee, Gonzo.
I liked the wild card this episode! Very fun, especially cause of how much of the season has been squabbling about cows lol. Who cares, the cows are dead!
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artaintfartwarriors · 1 year ago
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🔥 Assfur 🔥
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rafesangelita · 4 months ago
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can you pleaseeee do some angst with pogue!sweetheart!reader, like she overhears some of the girls at the country club talking about her and saying things like “i don’t know what rafe see’s in her, she’s still a pogue.” and rafe possibly reassuring her? thank you!
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warnings: bullying (?), classist comments, slight fluff
a/n: i got carried away (like always lol) leave requests if you’d like!
“rafe, as much as i love you, i don’t think i can stand out here much longer.” you fanned yourself, using your hand to block the sun from hitting your face. rafe and topper were currently playing golf while you played cart girl for them, the summer heat quickly becoming far too hot for you to handle. rafe paused their game, jogging over to you as he took his wallet out of the pocket of his pants.
“start up a tab at the bar, go ahead and cool off, baby.” you accepted his card, silently asking ‘are you sure?’ before he pressed a kiss to the corner of your lips. “go, on.” rafe reassured you, smiling to himself as he watched you make your way inside the country club.
you couldn’t help but sigh in relief when a gust of cool air blew past you, immediately ordering a virgin piña colada as you took a seat at the rather empty bar. rafe loved to bring you over to the country club, especially since you pretty much knew everyone from all the times you came to sell your baked goods, although it wouldn’t hurt to make some actual friends instead of acquaintances.
speaking of friends, you spotted a table not too far away, all three girls already looking at you before you smiled at them. no one smiled back. clearing your throat awkwardly, you fiddled with the rings on your fingers as you waited for your drink to be made. “you see rafe out on the golf course today? he is just so handsome.” oh, god. your breath hitched, your heart dropping as you continued to listen in on their conversation.
“he is! why he’s dating some pogue baker girl? i’ll never know.”
“that’s literally her over there.”
you shut your eyes, wishing the ground could swallow you whole. “i mean.. she’s pretty and all, but at the end of the day she’s still a pogue.” the girl’s laughter echoed in your ears, your skin flush with embarrassment. “well, it’s obvious that she’s just a charity case. rafe probably feels bad for the girl.” the way they all collectively agreed with one another made tears prick at your eyes.
just when you thought the comments couldn’t get any worse, your jaw nearly dropped to the floor at the next accusation. “maybe he’s paying her to have sex with him or something. i could imagine she has to scrape for some kind of change if she lives on the cut.” you were crying now, refusing to let them see any kind of tears running down your face. “one virgin piña colada.” the bartender placed the pretty drink down in front of you, a round of laughter erupting from behind you.
“a virgin piña colada? what is she? twelve?”
deciding you couldn’t take it anymore, you left a cash tip on the counter and muttered a ‘put it on on rafe cameron’s tab, please.’ before leaving without sparing them a single glance. to say you were mortified would be an understatement. rafe was probably going to freak out once he saw that you just up and left, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stay there another second.
you didn’t even make it out of the parking lot when you heard rafe’s voice calling after you. “y/n!” he was panting when he finally got to you, “hey, wait a second baby.” you quickly wiped your eyes before turning around, your boyfriend immediately sensing something was wrong. “woah, woah, what happened?” rafe tucked your hair behind your ears, cupping your chin before using his thumbs to stroke your tear-stained cheeks.
“nothing, i just don’t feel so good-”
“it’s not that.” he cut in, eyes flickering between yours. “what happened?” rafe asked once again. you knew it was impossible to lie to him. “tell me, baby, so i can fix it.” his jaw clenched, blue orbs wide with concern. you laughed bitterly. “you can’t fix girls who gossip.” at your words, rafe blinked before looking back at the country club. “are you talking about the snobs at the table near the window?” rafe took your silence as his answer, nodding slowly before draping an arm across your shoulders.
“what did they say?” his voice was eerily calm as he walked you two over to his truck. “it’s stupid, really.” you sniffled, letting rafe place you in the passenger seat. he kept the door open, leaning on the frame as he took your hand in his. “tell me.” rafe’s voice was stern, his chest rising and falling with each breath. you sighed, avoiding his gaze as you spoke. “they said that you have to be paying me to have sex with you because apparently i’m ‘scraping’ for change since i live on the cut.”
rafe’s jaw ticked, his eyes narrowing as he took your words in. “is that it?” he cleared his throat, his vision slowly blinding him with white hot anger. “they also said that they couldn’t understand why you would want to be with a ‘pogue baker girl’.. maybe their right.” rafe’s head shot up at your last statement, his face twisting in confusion. “what are you talking about?” he took your hand in his.
“i’m not even worth half of what these girls are,” you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying again, “i don’t have rich parents, i don’t have a trust fund that ensures i don’t have to work a day in my life, who am i kidding?” you shook your head. rafe studied you for a moment. “you know what you do have?” he lifted your chin, “a heart.”
“that’s something that no amount of money can buy. you have something priceless, y/n. you carry it with you everywhere you go.” rafe pressed a kiss to your temple, mumbling a ‘i’ll be right back.’ before he shut your door. you were a mess after that, his words not only being a comfort to you, but affirming.
rafe was gone for a few minutes before he strided out of the country club, a new piña colada in his hand. “here. now we sit and wait.” you took the drink from him, taking a sip as you watched two security guards escort the group of girls out. “what did you do?” you relaxed in your seat, glancing between rafe and the scene before you.
“got them blacklisted from the club. their parents aren’t as rich as you think.” he laughed, moving his attention to you. “don’t ever question yourself like that again. please.” he turned the engine on. “where are we going?” you asked. “we are going to go get you your own card, with your own little ‘trust fund’, alright?” he nodded.
“you’ll never have to worry about anyone talking like that about you ever again.”
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bluebellhairpin · 4 months ago
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Cregan Stark X Wife!Reader
Summary: Preparation to leave to Castle Black for the winter months is well under way, and you're reluctant to be left alone in Winterfell. Cregan, having had the same worry, provides what could be a solution. A solution with a name. And fur. (wc. 2.3k>)
Warnings: Reader has she/her pronouns + fem bodied. Pregnancy. Assassination attempt. Unnamed character death. Blood + gore. Cregan wants to be a girl dad. Unedited (lol).
Listening to: 'Wolf at Your Door' by Chole x Halle - "When you're laying in your bed at night, when the air's just a little too quiet, better hope that you're saying your prayers."
Series Masterlist || Masterlist || Ko-Fi || AO3 link
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Winterfell was a somber place when the cold rolled down from the north. 
Although only ten men were sent to the wall every winter, everyone left behind knew someone who was sent away. No matter how short of a life you lived, you also always knew someone who died there. Indeed, life on the wall was as harsh as the force it existence kept at bay. 
For you though, the man you lost always returned. The last three winters had you spend upwards of three months without your husband - and in turn rising to take his place as custodian of Winterfell. No matter how busy the role kept you, it never helped you miss Cregan Stark any less. 
With winter approaching once more, each moment with him seemed to not be enough. Yes, the Wall was dangerous, and even Cregan was never guaranteed to return, but this year there was something else that willed you to want him to stay. Something else that made him want to stay too. 
“Each day my resolve seems to crack,” he told you one night, fire cracked in its hearth as you both lay under blankets of fur. His hand rested protectively over your belly. “Already now I can see our babe grow, and I know I’ll not only be missing you but her too.”
“‘Her’?” you hummed, head turning to nose his cheek. “Such a confident tone, my lord.” 
“I am confident.” he replied, turning to press a soft kiss to your lips as his hand idlily rubbed along your stomach. 
“And if you needed an heir at the end of this cold winter, what then?” 
“If my lady wife deems me worthy, we might try for one again.” he said, sedating what could’ve been the start of your mood change with words almost too sweet to be coming from the frosty king in the north. “But that is something we can decide once all three of us are safe together when summer rises.” 
Cregan’s soft words and warm breath on your cheeks made your mind wandered to a time not so far away where you wouldn’t have his heat so close. A time when his comfort was going to be gone. 
“I’m going to miss you.” you said, turning into his hold more, and he let you snuggle into his chest. “This time will feel longer than all the others.”
“I doubt that will be the case for you.” he said, lips moving from their place pressed into your hair. “Winterfell will keep you busy, between that and resting for the babe’s sake, you won’t have time on your hands for much else.” 
“I may not want to rest.”
“You will. The Lord of Winterfell commands it.” 
“The Lord of Winterfell won’t be here, he cannot have a for sure say in what I do or do not do.” You felt him smile into your hair, and you pulled away with a twitch of your own mouth. “What?”
He pulled away a little too, shyly smiling down at where you still laid. He was acting far too coy to be considered normal. 
“I might not be leaving you completely alone.” 
“... Cregan.” you started, sitting up on our elbow. 
“I was going to show you on the morrow, but since you’ve forced my hand -”
“-I? Forcing your hand?”
“- Since you forced my hand,” he said, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he slipped out from the bedcovers, “I will be right back.”
“What…” You tried, but your voice tempered out as he swiftly made his way from your bedchambers. 
Sighing, you sat back in your pillows, arms folded, and refraining from pouting. It wasn’t long into your settled position of guessing what in the seven kingdoms your husband was doing before he was back. 
Cregan had clearly gone outside, snow settled on the top of his hair and along the shoulders of the fur cloak he snatched before leaving. In his arms was something squirming. You frowned, eyeing the movement under the cloak as he strode over. 
“What is that?” you asked. 
“A protector for the Lady of Winterfell, as per the orders of her lord husband.” Cregan said, and let the squirming mass break free from his hold onto the bed. 
It was a… pup? No not possible, it was too big. From how it acted it was a few months surely, but it was just so big. Then you thought some more. Could it really be? 
“A direwolf?” 
“Not any direwolf. Yours.” Cregan said, rounding the bed and settling back at your side. “A protector to be at your side when I cannot. I’ve been training him and he follows commands well already. By the time I leave he should be grown to the size of any regular dog - then at least twice that when I return.” 
While he spoke, the pup sniffed around your bed covers, curiously wandering on unsteady feet. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous, all black fur, with green eyes, and you didn’t doubt he would grow to be a fierce thing. But sometimes that wasn’t always good. 
“Cregan, are you sure about this?” you asked. “It’s… he’s a direwolf, not a dog.” 
“I’m sure,” he said, lending his arm out. The pup stepped closer, licking Cregan���s fingers and settling on its belly with its nose on Cregan’s knee. “They’re our house symbol. The direwolf are as Stark as I am, they know who we are, and they can be as loyal as they are fierce. That’s why I wanted to introduce you before I left. He’s going to be yours, loyal to you.” 
His arm wrapped around your shoulder, and like second nature you made yourself comfortable by his side. The pup shifted too, now his nose was itching closer to you, wanting to know who this new person was. 
“I supposed you ought to tell me what I'm going to be calling him then.”
“You can call him anything you like,” Cregan said, “But I’ve been calling him Striker.”
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Five months passed, and Cregan was right. You were never without anything to do. 
The babe growing inside you made mornings rough, and you often weren’t seen before noon, especially in the earlier months. The rest of your day was spent catching up on what you’d missed while resting, and then catching up on what you missed while catching up. Then the evenings were spent with Striker. 
He had grown on you, just as he had grown physically. Cregan was still able to lift the wolf when he left, but now you doubted it. He was already well on his way to rivalling a regular wolf in size. Despite how intimidating that might’ve been, you couldn’t be more fond of Striker even if you tried. 
Your belly swelled, and with it so did the direwolf’s protectiveness. Your handmaids were tolerated, your guards struggled to be in the same room, and when the maesters dared tough you Striker had to be sent out of the room. Walks around Winterfell were soon out of the question, at least if you were to bring the direwolf along, since he took to growling at everyone who stood too close. 
Cregan really picked well, Striker surely was serving his purpose, and soon he earned his namesake. 
Word came from Castle Black that Cregan was going to return, that the Winter had been fended off once more. That brought joy foremost to you, but really all in Winterfell knew what that meant, even if Westeros didn’t. It was cause for celebration when they returned. 
It also gave a false sense of security. Winter was gone, and so was the evil - but evil didn’t just come from the north. It could come from anywhere. 
You’d settled into bed for the night, Striker laid beside you, head facing towards the door, and your hand rested on his flank as you looked over one last paper. He growled, and you petted his fur, silently reassuring him that it was just a guard passing outside - but then his head lifted, and turned toward your window. His sudden, still alertness put you on edge. 
He’d been hostile before, but this was aggressive. 
Candle flames flickered, Striker’s fur stood on end beneath your palm, the latch on your window clicked open, creaked open, and you could hear your heartbeat in your ears. A cloaked figure slipped into your room, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to cry for help - nor to remember anything Cregan had taught you. But you didn’t have to.
The figure, a man, unsheathed a knife, and with the glint of steel in the candlelight Striker struck. He surged off the bed with a vicious bark and bit into the man’s arm, snarling all the while and all but went to tearing the man to shreds. 
The commotion had people coming in through the door, and the sight had you still rendered motionless and speechless. 
The man’s cloak was torn away, and by now he was pinned to the floor, blood pooling on the stone as he fruitlessly tried to get Striker off him. You barely registered your guard, Gunther, asking you what was happening.
“He came in the window. He had a knife.” was all you could say. You could guess he was saying things to calm you down as he pried your fingers off your bedsheets that covered your swollen belly - he was probably trying to get you out of the room so you didn’t see the mess. It was too late for that. The man was a whimpering, bloodied mess on the floor by now, and no one had yet been brave enough to pry Striker’s jaw off his shoulder. 
Gunther had an arm around you with your hand in his, guiding you away. Others attempted to move closer, either to help the man or take him away - but Striker was still growling. 
“Striker, here.” you called, just finding your voice enough for it to carry over the commotion. The direwolf looked up, and seeing you being led away, he relented, fitting into your side with ease. 
The three of you walked away. Now you were away from the scene you could think again and guess you were going down the hall to another room, one you decided you’d stay in until Cregan returned. 
You looked down at Striker, threading your fingers though the fur at his neck. 
“Good boy.” you said, stroking between his ears. 
“He sure is, my lady.” Gunther said, “Who knows what could’ve happened if he didn’t act so fast.” 
You smiled a little at that, at how right Cregan was in leaving the direwolf for you. He was meant to be company, a protector second - but tonight he proved to be as good, as loyal as any of your guards. He proved to be the real sigil of House Stark - just as Cregan told you he was. 
You reached the door of your new room, and as your hand lifted off Striker’s back you noticed it chill with the cold night air. Turning your palm over, you saw red - and Striker’s nose made home in your fingers, licking away every drop as if it wasn’t ever there to begin with.
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A week later, Cregan returned. 
You had been in a foul mood for the past three days, since the maester had put you on strict bed rest because of the babe. Therefore you had been deemed unfit to greet your husband at the gate as he finally came home. In your defense, it definitely seemed like a good reason to be sour. 
So you waited, sat on a chaise, with Striker’s head in your lap pressed to your stomach. 
You could hear a commotion outsider, which only made your face scrunch in annoyance - not just at missing out but also at the pity looked you knew your handmaiden would be giving you. She offered to go fetch Cregan, and you nodded her leave with a wave of your hand. 
“He will be here soon.” you said, cradling Striker’s muzzle in your palms. 
“Indeed he will.” Cregan said. 
“Oh, Lord Stark!” your handmaid said, startled. Your head turned, and you saw him standing in the doorway. 
“Cregan!” you said, grin covering your face - and even after such a long time away, Striker seemed to recognize him, for he didn’t growl, and his tail started thumping against the rug. 
“My love,” he said, shedding his great sword carelessly, and sunk to the floor beside where you sat. You heard your handmaid mumble a goodbye before stepping out and closing the door behind you. “Are you alright?” 
“I couldn’t be better now.” you replied, feeling tears welling in your eyes as you took in your husband's face for the first time in months. He looked tired, older, but as you took his face in your hands his cheeks felt exactly the same as they were when he left. “I missed you so much.” 
“I heard about what happened the other night. I -” he said, mouth hanging open in what could’ve been shock, in his eyes there could’ve been anger. Vengeance would do nothing now, the man was dead, he bled out before anyone could decide to give him mercy - undeserved or otherwise. But as Cregan leant forward to hold you into his arms, his warmth felt like nothing else except fear. “I can’t believe I could’ve lost you.” 
“You didn’t.” you said, taking an arm away from being wrapped around his shoulders to pull his face away from your chest. “You provided the means for me to stay safe long before you left. Striker was better than any guard. He was fearless when I was frozen. I owe him my life, all because of you.” 
Cregan’s face turned soft, and he smiled at you. He leant forward and kissed you. For the first time in too long, his lips move against yours. You felt his jaw move beneath your palm as his fingers grazed your neck and held onto your hip. When he pulled away, he kept your head cradled close to his. 
“I love you.” he said. 
“I love you too.” you replied, and he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips, then your cheek. 
“Now tell me all about how my little girl is growing.”
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thebearer · 5 months ago
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love me tomorrow |carmen berzatto x reader| part three
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prompt: after time apart, you and carmen meet up for the first time since the fight.
or part three and the final part of the devastation fic (spoiler- the resolution haha). part one and part two can be found here :)
contains: angst. hurt with comfort (finally lol). mentions of mean!carmen, past fighting. past trauma, family trauma. carmen's been to therapy (yay). language. mom!reader x dad!carmen. fluff at the end, i had to make it a little funny and end on a light note bc it felt so heavy lol. word count- 4.7k+
“He’s here,” Sugar announced, the chime of a doorbell following nearly cinematically. 
Your shoulders tightened, stomach twisting with an ache of nerves you tried to swallow. You were so nervous- why were you so nervous? He’d fucked up, not you. He was here to grovel and beg for forgiveness, not you. Still, you felt your hairline prick with heat, hands clammy when you heard the door opening downstairs. 
“Okay,” You tried to steady your voice, exhaling slowly out of your nose. “I’m almost done.” 
Sugar nodded, not leaving, keeping her post behind you. “You know you don’t have to do this.” Sugar looked at you through the mirror, arms folded over her chest, watching you carefully for a sign- anything that would give her a red flag, make her call this off. 
“I know,” You swallowed your buzzing nerves, jittery in the pit of your belly. 
“I’ll tell him to go away. You give me the word, and I’ll kick him out.” Sugar stood, pushing off the door frame and walking towards you. “Seriously. One wrong word, wrong look, anything, he’s gone. Say the word.” 
You gave a small smile. “I think I’ll be alright, but thank you.” You muttered, looking down at your bare ring finger. You still found yourself reaching for your ring, heart spiking in a panic when you’d see it was gone, only to sink when you remembered why- why you left it. 
“I feel like it’s time.” You admitted, trying to convince yourself more than Natalie. You were still unsure, so jarred and hurt by the last time you’d spoken to Carmen. The things he’d said, how he’d hurt you. “I think we have to figure something out.”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Sugar gave you a pointed look. “Trust me, if this was me, Pete would never live that down- never. He’d be at my mercy for the rest of his life, if I even let him back into it.” 
You knew Natalie wasn’t joking, that she would do just as she said, but that was also easy for her to say; when Pete could not fathom ever thinking those things about her, let alone saying them to her. Sometimes you wished Carmen could be softer, a little more like Pete in that way. 
“He’s been going to therapy,” Richie’s voice played in your mind. “He’s, uh, he’s doin’ good. Tryna get better for you, for both of you. He loves you, you know that, sweetheart. He’s just… He’s fucked up, y’know? We all are a little, but he’s workin’ on it.” 
You hoped that was true. For your marriage, for your baby. Sugar and Pete had been taking Teddy to see Carmen. You couldn't bring yourself to see him yet, but depriving him of Teddy felt cruel and inhumane. 
Downstairs, you could hear her gurgling, Carmen’s soft tone greeting her in hushed excitement. It soothed you, even for just a moment, it felt familiar- felt like home. What you’d missed so badly, what you longed for to have again. 
“Uncle Carm, why haven’t you been staying here too?” MJ’s tiny squeak of a voice rang up the stairs, greeting you as you quietly crept down them. 
“MJ,” Pete muttered, shaking his head gently. “C’mon, bud, you know Uncle Carm’s been on a business trip.” 
“Right, yeah.” Carmen nodded, his hand patting Teddy’s back gently, soothing her and him. Just feeling the weight of her back on his chest, it put him at ease. She was bigger now, longer than he remembered, but he tried not to think about that, nose pressing into her soft tufts of hair. 
MJ saw you first, his face falling into a pout. “Aw, does that mean you’re going home?” He whined, looking at you then back at Carmen. “Are you takin’ Anchovy and Teddy?” 
Anchovy skittered towards you, running up the stairs at the mention of his name. He’d been a trooper with MJ and Maggie, both kids enamored with the cat who was less than impressed with them. 
Carmen stiffened at the sight of you, spine rigid, heart skipping and falling in his chest. There was a pause of awkward uncertainty, neither of you sure what to say. “If you’re good,” Sugar stepped in. “Maybe your aunt and uncle will let you play with them a little longer while they go out.” She looked at you, shrugging gently at the suggestion. 
You looked at Carmen, eyes meeting him in a brief, unsure gaze, before nodding. “Yeah, that would be- that would be great, MJ.” You gave a soft smile to the boy. 
Carmen stood, passing Teddy off to Sugar with a quiet muttering of thanks. He met you in the doorway, hand reaching for yours, but stopping himself, pulling back hesitantly. Instead, he held the door open, letting you pass by him first. 
The car smelled like a mix of cleaning supply, masked with car fresheners he’d stuck in the vents. He’d been smoking, more than usual, you were sure of it. He’d gotten down to one a day after Teddy was born, paranoid that he’d give her asthma or a rash or something worse. 
“Um,” Carmen hesitated, his voice shaking in a way that he hadn’t since your first date. “I was… I was thinkin’ we could go somewhere t-to talk?” Carmen’s gaze met yours, lips pressing together, swallowing around the lump in his throat. 
You nodded, your hands clasped in your lap, both of you too rigid, too uncomfortable. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.” You looked down at your nails. “We could go get coffee? Go to the one by the restaurant.” 
Carmen’s heart burned with a dull ache. The coffee shop a block from The Bear had been a staple in your relationship. When you’d first moved in together, to the shitty downtown apartment to be closer to the restaurant, Carmen would go every Sunday. Sometimes he’d pick up, other times you’d come with him, sit in the corner seat side by side in a booth- like the couples you used to roll your eyes at, lovesick. 
Someone was already sitting in that booth when you got there, so you settled for a small two seater in the back, secluded and empty. Carmen brought you your coffee without asking, he knew the order by heart now, etched into his mind permanently. 
“Thank you,” You muttered, accepting the paper cup, your eyes not meeting his, but your hands brushing. You didn’t pull away this time. 
Carmen sat across from you, a dread filled silence falling thick between the two of you. His knee bouncing under the table. “I, uh, I wanna talk first if-if that’s good with you.” Carmen’s eyes lifted under his ball cap, pulled low on his head, curls peaking out. 
You nodded, twisting the paper cup around on the table, too nervous to drink it. Carmen took a breath, trying to calm his racing mind. “Take a deep breath before you start. It’s ok to take a second to get your words in order, Carmen. Collect your thoughts.” Dr. Mullins’ words rang through his head. 
“I wanna start by saying that I’m sorry.” Carmen looked at you when he said it, eyes rounding in a pathetically sweet way. “I-I’m sorry and I…I didn’t mean anything I said. I would never- It wasn’t you.” 
You looked down at the table, the familiar heat burning in your nose and throat, a threat of tears already. “Hey,” Carmen said firmly, leaning forward. “C’mon, look at me. Please?” You look at him hesitantly, jaw clenching, trying to keep yourself from crying. 
Carmen held your gaze, his lips pressing together in a tight line to keep his own emotions in. “It wasn’t you.” His gaze was intense but soft all at once, holding yours. “It… It was all me. All of it. I-I was overwhelmed, I was stressed, I fucked up, a-and-” Carmen’s voice cracked, breaking at the end, his hand running over his face to try and calm himself. 
You felt your own eyes well with tears, chin ducking closer into yourself, leaning towards him. You wanted to reach out, to grab his hand that rested on the table, squeeze it in comfort like you always did. Instead, you looked at him, waiting for him to continue. 
“And I shouldn’t have said any of that shit because-because none of it was true.” Carmen continued, his voice strained. 
“So why’d you say it then?” You surprised yourself with the firmness in your tone, edging on a snap. 
Carmen blinked, surprised but not entirely shocked. His knee bounced faster and faster under the table. He took a second, holding his breath before exhaling, trying to keep the growing tightness in his chest to a minimum. 
“I was stressed. I was tired. I-I was overwhelmed, and… and I was an asshole.” Carmen admitted, but you still didn’t seem convinced. You knew him better than anyone, better than Dr. Mullins, better than even Fak or Richie or Sugar. 
“I… I was hurting. I was hurting an-and I was so fuckin’ angry. I don’t-I don’t even know why I was so angry.” Carmen admitted, nodding slowly, eyes flickering from your gaze to his hands nervously. “I just… I think I wanted someone to hurt like I was hurting. I just, I don’t know, I wanted someone else to feel like I was, an-and I should have- it was fuckin’ stupid, an-and selfish, and…” 
Your eyes were glassy with tears you tried to hide, blinking a tear that fell down your cheek, wiping it quickly. Carmen’s chest ached, burned with hurt at the sight of you. 
“And I’ve never regretted anything more in my life.” He looked at you sincerely. “I-I-I never said anything more untrue and fuckin’ stupid in my life.” 
“You…” You took a breath, your voice shaking with emotions. “You really hurt my feelings, Carmen.” You admitted looking at him. He nodded, jaw flexing, neck blossoming with splotches of emotion. 
“I just don’t really understand how-how you didn’t mean to say those things. I mean, clearly you-you’ve thought that before.” Your voice lifted higher and higher, climbing with a cry that threatened to break. “I know you’re saying you didn’t mean those things, and I get that, but my problem is you’ve thought them before-” 
“-No, no, I swear-” 
“-You have, Carmen. Clearly you have. You wouldn’t- You didn’t just come up with that shit out of nowhere.” Your voice was beginning to climb, trying to level it out in the cafe, keeping your composure. You took a breath, pinching the bridge of your nose, pad of your thumb swiping the corner of your eye to catch a stray tear. “Just… Just don’t lie to me.” 
Carmen pressed his hands together, trying hard to remember his breathing while his mind was racing. Sugar was right, it was uncomfortable, worse than he could have imagined. 
“You’re right,” Carmen admitted with a nod. There was no point in lying, not to you, you always knew better, knew him better. “I-I did, but not-not like that. Not,” Carmen’s breath hitched, chest tight with a wave of anxiety. 
“You know wh-when I was at the restaurant, and I… I would be ready to rip my fuckin’ hair out. Everything was just goin’ to shit, o-or we’d realize there was a critic on the books, or I’d forgot to order some shit, I’d be going fuckin’ crazy, ya know?” Carmen rambled, words spilling out in tumbles of jumbled truth.
 “I’d go to my office for a second, just to-just to take a fuckin’ breath, and… and I’d check my phone and I’d see a text from you.” His heart swelled at the memory. You’d text him updates through the day, knowing he’d seen him when he could. Baby Teddy in her crib, Anchovy in the bassinet, her outfit for the day, nap time- all the moments he missed at work because you wanted him to see. You had considered him. Carmen missed it more than words could describe the past days, checking his phone out of habit, hoping to see a little OOTD with a smiley face and a wrinkly baby Teddy attached- instead, he saw nothing. 
“I’d just… I don’t know. I was sittin’ there, just fuckin’ stressed o-or angry, and then I’d see that and I-I’d feel,” Carmen paused. Gather your thoughts, gather your thoughts. 
“I felt… I just felt weird about it?” Carmen’s brows pinched together, looking at you for help, unsure. Your face fell, his heart lurching with fear. 
“No, no, no, no. Not-Not like that. I- fuck, that’s not what- I love the pictures. Love them. I-I- They’re the only things that get me through the day, it-it’s not that-” Carmen stuttered out, head dropping into his hands in defeat. Way to go, Berzatto. 
“Felt weird?” You repeated, calm, your way of soothing him. Keeping your voice even, steady without any tones he could read into and spiral. It was second nature at this point. “Weird how?” 
“It made me feel like… like I was, I was missin’ out.” Carmen admitted, eyes shining bright and a little wide like they always did when he’d finally admit something. Wide eyed, scared, almost, like he shouldn’t have told the truth. 
“I felt like, I’m at work, an-and you were at home with Teddy, and…and I felt like I was bein’ a shitty dad. Like I was there too much, an-and I’d miss out on her, and then I’d miss you, I’d just…” Carmen threw his hands out lightly, cheeks puffing with a slow, shaky exhale. 
“I was jealous, maybe? Ma-Maybe that’s the word, but I just… I didn’t want to be there, and I know,” He lifted his voice before you could begin to speak. “I know I’m th-the boss, and-and I get that. And it’s not- it’s not your fault. It’s not your fault you’re home- I’m glad you’re home, I am, because you’re doin’ so much. You are, an-and I know that, I know. You’re-You’re doin’ the most important job in the fuckin’ world, I mean, you’re keepin’ ou-our baby alive.” 
Carmen laughed humorlessly, a scoff that turned into a sniffle, shaking his head. You sat quietly, listening to his words, taking them in with a slow nod. Carmen looked at you, trying to read you, taking in your expressions. Your shoulders less tense, tired, face neutral but he saw the way your lips twitched, holding back a cry. 
“Just sometimes when-when I’d be in the shit, I’d just want to be home.” Carmen admitted. “I’d want to be home, but… but I knew I couldn’t be. I knew I had to-to take care of things, take care of you an-and Teddy, and I don’t- fuck, I don’t mean it like a bad thing. I like doing it, I mean obviously I fuckin’ do, it’s just- it-it’s a lot sometimes and I get-” 
“-Carm,” You cut off his ramblings, reaching across the table, your hand sliding over the top of his, squeezing it gently. 
Carmen thought his lungs might have given out, his heart too, looking down at your hand in awe. Bolts of electricity shot through his body, tingling at his skin that touched yours with excitement. He’d missed this, missed your touch, missed you. It felt surreal, sitting here, feeling you, seeing you. 
“I’m sorry.” Carmen whispered, turning his hand to hold yours. Hands clammy, fingernails bitten to the quick. His fingers intertwined in yours, holding your hand so tightly your fingers tingles. He held your hand like he was scared to let go, like if he did he might never get to hold your hand again. 
“I’m sorry. It-It wasn’t fair. It..It’s not fair.” Carmen squeezed your hand, shaking his head lightly. “You didn’t… I don’t know how to say how much you mean to me.” Carmen looked at you, eyes glassy, red rimmed with tears that gathered at his water line. 
“I, uh, I-I tried to- Well, Richie’s thera- my therapist told me to, uh, to try an-and write out what I wanted to say to you. Take time and reflect and give it to you, but I, uh, I was up all night because I kept starting over.” Carmen rambled on. 
“Everything I was tryna write it just… it didn’t feel like enough. It didn’t do you justice.” Carmen looked up at you, thumb brushing over your knuckle gently. “I felt like it just wasn’t enough. They’re aren’t any words to describe you. To…To describe what you mean to me, an-and how much I love you.” 
You swallowed back a sob, looking into his eyes. An intensity you hadn’t seen since he said his vows, maybe more now. “I-I love you so much, and… and I don’t deserve you. I don’t fucking deserve you.” Carmen choked out, a sob slipping out between his confessions. 
“I-I’m a fuckin’ loser, an-and a psycho, and I-I’m a shitty dad and husband…And I-I’m fucked up, and you-you chose to love me anyways. An-And to marry me, and have a kid with me- start a family with me. And what do I do? I fuck it up, and I don’t deserve you. I never have, an-and I never will.” Carmen rambled, tears sliding down his cheeks freely, leaning towards you, shoulders stuttering with a choking of tears.
“Don’t say that.” You sniffle, shaking your head. “Don’t say that-” 
“-No, it’s true, it’s fuckin’ true-” 
“-No, it isn’t. Carmen, don’t say that.” You reach your free hand out, cupping his cheek across the table, thumb swiping over his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. You held him, feeling the heat in his cheeks, he turned into your touch, breath slowing. 
“You’re not a loser. You’re not a psycho. You’re not a bad dad, or-or a bad husband either.” You leaned forwards, closing in the gap between the two of you, the edge of the table digging into your stomach. “You made a mistake-” 
“-No, that’s-that’s- it’s worse than that. It’s so much fuckin’ worse than that. Don’t-” 
“-You made a mistake.” You said, firmer this time, cradling his cheek in your hand. 
Carmen took a breath, squeezing your hand in his, sniffing deep to keep his tears in. “I don’t… I don’t want to be like my parents.” He whispered, eyes rounding in a scared way. “I-I don’t want to fuck up you o-or Teddy or… I just don’t wanna end up like them. I wanna be different.” 
“You’re not gonna end up like them.” You shook your head softly. 
“No, I-I was actin’ just like them.” Carmen muttered. “Yellin’ at you a-and actin’ like a complete fuckin’ lunatic. Just like them, an-and I don’t wanna live like that.” 
“You won’t.” You reassured him gently, whispering across the table. He shook his head in protest. “Carm, listen to me. You’re… You’re not like them, ok?” 
You could feel Carmen start to shake, a trembling through his system that was a tell-tale sign of a panic attack. Your eyes scanned over the restaurant, filling up with the mid-afternoon rush. “Come on,” You nodded towards the door, pushing your chair back, hand still in his. “Let’s get some air.” 
Carmen didn’t argue, he wouldn’t- couldn’t even if he wanted to. Your hand in his, squeezing his gently, pulling him towards the car. Carmen pulled the keys out with shaky hands, unlocking the door. He reached for the passenger door, but you pulled the back door open instead, surprising him when you slipped in the backseat, nodding at him to follow you. You squeezed into the middle, Teddy’s car seat pressed to your back, Carmen pressed into your side, shutting the door.
“You’re not like them.” You broke the silence, turning yourself towards him. “You’re not.” 
Carmen leaned his head back against the seat, tears leaking out of his eyes. “You-You don’t have to do this, say that.” He shook his head. “I don’t deserve it.” 
“Carmen, you’re not like your parents.” You reached for his hand again. “The fact that you’re scared to be like them, scared and trying to stop it, that shows me you’re not like them.” 
Carmen’s chest stuttered, a hissing of a cry leaving his lungs. “You made a mistake.” You swallowed, your own heart aching. “But… But that doesn’t mean you’re as a whole a bad person. It just means you made a mistake, and if you learn from it and become better, then it’s ok. It’s a lesson learned.” 
Carmen nodded, eyes squeezing shut, tight like he was trying to keep everything in. “I just…I really fucking miss you.” Carmen admitted through a wobbly voice, eyes still closed. “I-I really miss you, and… and I want you to come home.” 
You shook your head, tears sliding down your cheeks. “I miss you too.” You whispered, squeezing his hand. “I missed you so much.” 
Carmen turned, arms wrapping around your body, pulling you tightly into him. His nose pressed into the top of your head, breathing in detergent that didn’t smell like what you used at home, shampoo, too. You held onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders, pushing him further and further into you until it felt like your bodies were meshing together, fusing into one. 
Whispered apologies shared through teary, wet sniffles filled the space. Carmen’s nose rubbing against yours, hesitating before he kissed you. You pulled him into you, finally soothing the aching longing that had built in your chest, your lips catching his, the two of you staying unmoving, wanting to feel the other. Clinging to each other, hands grabbing, lips parting, Carmen pressing you against the car seat, hand cradled on the back of your head. 
“I-I understand if you still don’t wanna come home.” Carmen muttered, breath hot over your cheek, nose rubbing against your skin. “But I really fuckin’ miss you.” 
“I miss you too.” You muttered, lips buzzing against his neck, tears hot and trickling onto the collar of his t-shirt. “I-I want to come home.” 
“A-Are you sure?” Carmen’s eyes lit up with hope, though he tried to hide it, the way he always did; too scared to let him get too excited, too hopeful because he always feared it would end. 
“Yeah,” You whispered, nodding gently, balling the back of his shirt between your fingers. 
“Yeah?” Carmen repeated, lips pressing together to keep his cry in, a different one this time. One of relief. For the first time in days, he felt like he could breathe, like his lungs weren’t constricting and on the brink of collapse. His mind didn’t race and cloud with delirious confusion. No, here and now, holding you, Carmen had clarity. 
The both of you stayed in the back of the car, holding the other, chest to chest until your heartbeat became the same, steady rhythm, matching the others. 
Carmen held your hand on the drive back, pressing wet kisses to your knuckles, trying to wipe his eyes of any tears. “Can’t let Pete see me cryin’ again.” He muttered. “That was a new fuckin’ low.” You had giggled softly, enough to have his heart fluttering. He’d never admit it out loud, not now, anyways, that he was thankful for Pete. How he’d taken care of you, of Teddy, of Anchovy. He’d stuck up for you, even if it was against Carmen, and that meant the world to Carmen. 
Pulling into Sugar and Pete’s house, Carmen shoved the gear shift into park, his hand still in yours, both of you sitting in each other's company for a minute longer. Just a little bit longer the two of you, before you had to face the others. 
“Oh, uh, one more thing.” Carmen’s thumb ran over your knuckles before he let go of your hand for a moment, raising up in the seat to dig into the front pocket of his jeans. 
“I, uh, I brought your rings back.” Carmen’s voice dropped, a shake in his words that matched the shake in his hands, pinching your wedding band and ring in between his fingers. 
You swallowed at the sight, Carmen holding the ring between his fingers, it took you back to years before when he’d proposed. Nearly as nervous as he was now, just as shaky, but for a different reason. 
“You don’t have to put them on or anything. I don’t- I’m not tryna make you do that, it’s your choice, obviously. I just,” Carmen took a breath, looking at you. “I thought you might want them back.” 
You paused for a moment, looking at the rings, the sting of the last time you saw them still burning and aching in your chest, but this time, it wasn’t as crushing. It was more of a dull ache, a tiredness that came with it instead of devastation. 
Reaching out, your fingertips tickled his palms, gathering the two rings in your hand. You looked at them, turning them over in your hands. “Thank you,” You mumbled, looking up at Carmen. He swallowed, giving a nod, trying to mask the hurt that you hadn’t put them back on- you didn’t miss it. 
“Do-” Your voice caught in your throat. “Will you put them back on?” You blinked at him, wide eyed, asking so sweet, Carmen thought his heart might give out entirely. 
You held the rings out towards him. “Will you put them back on for me? Please?” 
Carmen didn’t deserve you. The notion rang loud over and over in his head again, throat burning, welling up with tears. He didn’t deserve you. You were too good, too fuckin’ good for him. 
His hands trembled, holding yours and slipping the rings back onto your ring finger, back to their rightful place. Carmen twisted them, a deep breath of a sob that was threatening to break filling the space. His fingers intertwined with yours, free hand cupping your jaw, pulling you into a kiss over the console. 
Sugar looked out the window, peeking through the blinds. “What’re they doin’ out there?” Pete whispered behind her, like the two of you might hear them. “Do they look happy? Sad? You don’t think it went bad, do you? I mean, Carmen can be-” 
“-Pete,” Sugar snapped with a soft huff. “Look for yourself.” She moved, biting back a small grin. 
Pete slid in her place, pushing the blinds apart, sneakily looking out the side of them. He could see the two of you in the car, Carmen’s hands on the back of your head, holding you while you leaned across the console in a deep, passionate kiss. 
“Well, lookie there.” Pete grinned, letting the blinds fall. “I guess there was a happy ending after all.” 
Sugar rolled her eyes, lips twitching in a small smile. “He still has a lot to make up for. I hope she didn’t let him off the hook too easily.” She grumbled, crossing her arms. “But I am glad they made up. I would kill Carmen if he fucked things up with my favorite sister-in-law.” 
Pete let out a small laugh, looking out the window again. “The kids are gonna miss Teddy and Anchovy when they go back. MJ’s gonna be devastated they’re taking them.” Pete muttered, Sugar nodded. 
Pete paused for a moment, looking behind him with a soft frown. “Y’know, this is gonna sound crazy, Nat, but I’ll be kinda glad when Anchovy is gone.” Pete admitted in a hushed tone, like Anchovy might hear him. 
Sugar snorted lightly. “Yeah. Except MJ and Maggie will be begging for a cat of their own. They’ve already started and I told them-” 
“-No, I mean,” Pete turned, watching the orange cat slink around at the top of the stairs, Anchovy glaring down at Pete before disappearing to the guest room. “I don’t think that cat likes me.”
1K notes · View notes
saetoru · 1 year ago
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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。the dictionary definition of a rich boy
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synopsis. that rich guy who won’t stop asking you out is your partner for this project—send help
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contents. pre dating rich boy! gojo, college! au, implications of a zenin being pushy on the first date, satoru being distraught you went on a date lol, pre relationship shenanigans with the cutest loser boy !!
word count. 3.8k (it’s literally all just him being a handful)
notes. thank you niku my most cherished gojo stan for comming this (and giving me the most ridiculous tip) i adore you so much :,) mwah 💋
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he’s late—gojo is late. in fact, he’s very late, by forty-five minutes and thirty-two seconds to be exact. you aren’t really the count-by-the-second type of person, but somehow when it comes to that irritating, smug, too-talkative brat that you’re stuck with…well, you can’t help but be petty and use the seconds against him too.
he shows up close to an hour after your agreed time, waltzing in with a grin on his face—and, oh, you should kill him. he has the audacity to send you a wink when he walks over, coming up to your table and pushing his sunglasses down his nose just a bit to look you in the eyes over the lenses. 
what kind of person wears sunglasses indoors? surely only the kind that are nothing but trouble.
“aw, you’re here already,” gojo hums, “that excited to see me?”
“you’re late,” you spit.
“am i? i could have sworn—”
“now it’ll get dark by the time we get through what we planned for today,” you glare. he looks enthused, positively delighted by the statement—it’s almost as if you’ve offered him candy. 
“well, then i’ll just have to walk you to your apartment,” he offers smoothly. 
what a jackass. of course, just as expected, he’s still attempting to worm his way into your personal life (and likely your pants) in the most obnoxious of ways. over your dead body, however, will you ever allow him to know where you live, let alone accompany you on the way. you value your sanity, and having a conversation with gojo satoru longer than you absolutely have to seems like the most efficient way to fry every nerve and brain cell you have left.
“absolutely not,” you grit, “you can call me an uber. you pay.”
“alright,” he nods, “i’ll get an uber for you. but i’ll need your number to make sure you made it home safe. otherwise, what kind of partner would i be?”
typically, any normal pair of partners are meant to exchange numbers for a project—it would be the easiest form of communication, and more importantly, you can spam call if gojo decides not to carry his weight instead of just hoping and praying he checks his socials. but you can’t let him have your number—he’s not trustworthy enough for that. the last thing you need is him bombarding you with texts, or worse: calls, in the middle of work and class. so instead, you strictly inform him that any and all communication will occur via social media.
he pouts at that—it’s a cute pout, you have to admit. it’s slightly dangerous, too, because had you not had the self-control you do, you might have caved. but then he lights up at the prospect of you adding him back on socials. 
i’ll get your number one of these days, he says confidently. his confidence is as aggravating as the way he clicks his pen in the middle of class. he still chooses to sit right beside you despite all the free and very available seats the entirety of the lecture hall has. 
but no, he insists on sitting right next to you—and you? well, you have to hope you don’t get charged with homicide by the end of every class from the constant clicking he makes you endure. despite all that, gojo is surprisingly smart, which means your project might not be so doomed. 
he’s annoyingly smart, actually—he never takes notes, and just when you think the professor has him cornered by asking him a question when he’s seemingly dozing off, he answers immediately with the correct answer. 
you hate him.
“absolutely not happening,” you grumble, opening your laptop, “anyway i think we should start with—”
“well, i hate to inform you,” he sighs sadly as if it genuinely pains him to say this, “but i’ve actually deleted all my socials.”
“what?” your eye twitches.
“yeah,” he nods, “it’s a bit of a cleanse if you will. staring at your screen all day and finding value in fake posts is not good for mental health, you know? i’m trying to be more in tune with myself. it’s been a real self-journey.”
before the end of this project, you might either be a college dropout or an inmate at the county jail. you’re not sure, either is equally as possible.
“gojo satoru, i am sick of your games,” you spit, “we both know—”
“and i would hate not being in touch with my partner since it’s a crucial part of this project for us to work together,” he hums, something of a smug look plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face, “that thirty percent deduction for ineffective partner communication would be such a shame to get when we’re working so hard already on this, wouldn’t you agree?”
is he threatening you? for your number? with your grade? he is, you realize—and you clench your fist tightly around the phone in your hands as he eyes it with a knowing look on his face. he has you right where he wants you, whether you like it or not.
“you’re an asshole,” you spit.
“i’m a mental health advocate,” he gasps—he has the nerve to act offended, even as he’s so obviously enjoying working you up like this. you wish he’d drop dead immediately. maybe you could take his card from his wallet as his cold body lays lifeless on the table and order yourself a new laptop if he did—that would be ideal. 
“i saw you post on your story last night—”
“you didn’t watch it,” he pouts, “i posted a shirtless gym selfie just for you—wait a second, you pay attention to my story, huh?” he cuts himself off with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows at you, “c’mon, you don’t have to force yourself to skip them. you know you wanna watch them.”
“no, i don’t,” you seethe, “it was just the first one at the top. stop being self-important—”
“anyway,” he drawls, eyeing your phone again. you want to splash your coffee in his face. “i’ll need your number,” he sniffs, “the crushing disappointment of you skipping my story made me realize i’m too focused on getting social media validation, so i’m taking a break. it’s the best thing for me to do in my headspace right now. hope you understand.”
“are you kidding me?” you stare at him. he grins before shaking his head.
“i would never joke about mental health,” he says seriously—it’s not as serious as your desire to slap him, however.
“fine,” you take a long, slow sip of your coffee to calm down, “give me your phone.”
“oh, you’re gonna set your own contact?” he brightens, immediately handing you his phone. it’s brand new—the newest model, in fact. it’s barely been a few days since it dropped. truthfully, you’re not even sure why you’re shocked—of course, he, of all people, would upgrade immediately. “how intimate,” he gushes, “it’s almost like we’re going on a date—”
“do not text me outside of project purposes,” you interrupt, thrusting the phone back into his hands, “got it?”
“you got it,” he grins triumphantly.
—————
like all things he does, gojo finds a roundabout way to keep his word without actually keeping it. it’s his secret talent, you think—finding loopholes through all the technicalities of things.
hey when ur free can u read over my portion? i just finished
btw r u going to that frat party this wknd? u don’t seem the party type haha but u should come 
i’ll introduce u to suguru! he’s my best friend he’s super nice u’ll like him
oh and when do u wanna meet this week? promise i’ll be on time this time ;)
you make sure to only respond to the questions regarding your project—just because he technically kept his word and started the conversation centered around the project before getting off topic doesn’t mean you have to indulge him. and the way he types is infuriatingly annoying—who shortens every possible word like that? only him, you think.
okay, maybe you’re just nitpicking now, but every time you see his name pop up on your screen, your mood sours tenfold. you decide to answer as dryly as possible.
k i’ll look. we meet same time as last.
the period at the end should add the perfect touch—you grin to yourself in pride at that one. instantly, bubbles pop up and indicate he’s typing again. your smile very quickly drops.
wow ur a rly dry texter aren’t u?
that’s ok i don’t judge
so how bout the party? 
i can be ur escort ;) 
it’ll be fun!
from his side of the screen, gojo watches as your contact shows notifications silenced at the bottom. he pouts to himself—no party, then, he thinks.
—————
gojo satoru, the guy who seemingly has everything he could ever want, likes you. 
frankly, he’s not really sure why—at first, he finds you mildly amusing, and he thinks it’d be fun to have a short fling with you perhaps. somewhere along the line, however, that changes. he watches you dedicatedly take notes in class, no matter how tired you seem from work the night before. he notices the way you chew on your bottom lip when you’re really focused—it’s actually very cute, he thinks. and he’s entertained by the way you always have some smart little retort waiting on your tongue. you’re not boring—and more than anything, you leave him a little humbled. it’s refreshing, and he kind of likes it, if he’s being completely honest.
he’s never liked anyone before—it’s a weird feeling. at best, he’s had a crush where he could appreciate that someone is generally pleasing to the eye and has a personality that might mesh well with his, but he’s never yearned for someone before. 
it just so happens to be his luck that the same person he wants more than anything in the entire world (for the first time ever, too) seems to hate his guts. it also happens to be that the same person he wants more than anything is currently getting asked out by some kid from the zenin family. right in front of him. and you’re saying yes. 
why on earth would you say yes to a zenin of all people? don’t you value yourself? 
gojo can admit that he’s had his fair share of heart robbing and tear inducing moments—he’s not exactly someone with the best track record for commitment, but at least he doesn’t use people for his own benefit. plus, he does, in fact, actually plan on committing to you. that zenin boy most certainly can’t be any good news if he’s anything like naoya, who gojo has met on a multitude of occasions, and knows very well is a scoundrel of a guy. 
“see you at nine?” he hears the zenin (what was his name again?) ask you. you nod, smiling sweetly. 
why don’t you smile sweetly at him like that? he buys you coffee every week. sure, he only gets to buy you the coffee because you have no choice but to meet him for the project, but he even offers to get you a slice of cake—you don’t ever accept, though, so he ends up eating both. but you do like coffee, very strong coffee that’s probably not sweet enough for his liking, but you enjoy the coffee he buys you nonetheless, and that has to count for something.
“sure, see you at nine,” you hum.
gojo watches in absolute shock (and abject horror) as you look down shyly. as soon as the zenin boy walks away, he stomps up to you.
“hey, what gives?” he asks petulantly, making your face paint on that irritated look that it always seems to adopt when he’s in the vicinity—how rude.
“what do you mean?” you ask tiredly, “i don’t speak toddler, so please use your words—”
“why’d you say yes to that zenin boy—”
“he has a name. it’s—”
“who cares what his name is? he’s an asshole! he won’t treat you right even if his mother’s life is on the line—”
“oh, and you would?” you raise an eyebrow, glaring at him. how is it his place to tell you who’d treat you right and who wouldn’t? how is it his place to even care?
“i would,” he gasps at the accusation, “you’d date a zenin but not me? how come?”
“because you’re annoying,” you counter like it’s obvious.
okay, now that is technically fair—gojo has heard his fair share of you’re annoying’s from people in his life. in fact, a good amount of them come from his own mother, but he’s also dashingly handsome, very good in bed, has soft hair, is tall and muscular, can buy you whatever you like, and can be smart and funny too if you really don’t care for those kinds of things. he’s the entire package and more. and more importantly, he’s not from the zenin family, and that automatically means you’ll actually be treated with an ounce of respect.
he looks at you incredulously, feelings a little hurt. “that’s not true! name one annoying thing i’ve done—”
“you laughed in the middle of me speaking in class.”
“that wasn’t at you! suguru showed me something funny on his phone—”
“and you took like twenty minutes in line ordering the most sweetest drink on the menu while i was running late—”
“you can’t use that against me, that’s not fair! i’m a paying customer, i should be able to get whatever i want. plus, it’s technically not my fault you were late.”
“you rubbed in the fact that you had a black card.”
“you mentioned it first!”
“you were late to our first meeting for the project.”
“okay, that was an honest mistake! people are allowed to make those, you know—”
“i don’t want to go out with you,” you say frustratedly, “and it’s really annoying when you act like a spoiled brat that can’t handle the word no and keep on insisting, okay? so leave me alone unless it’s to discuss our project—which weighs fifty-five percent of our grade, by the way, so don’t even think about getting lazy.”
he is not lazy, he wants to argue.
but before he can, you roll your eyes and take a step to walk around him, leaving him there to blink in shock. okay, he thinks with a huff, so you’re playing hard to get. that’s no matter, he’s good at the chase anyway. 
—————
the date doesn’t seem to have gone well. gojo can tell because your eyes are slightly red and puffy, and you’re extra grouchy today in class. your professor seems to have noticed, too, because instead of calling on you today, she calls on gojo extra as a rare show of mercy. 
gojo doesn’t mind—this class is surprisingly easy, and he’s bored half the time anyway. he might as well indulge the uptight professor in an ugly brown pencil skirt and answer her pretentious questions that aren’t as complex as she thinks they are. 
“so,” he finally breaks the silence, “how was your date—”
“if you’re looking for a chance to say i told you so, just get it over with, you jerk,” you grumble. he raises his eyebrows in surprise before both hands go up in surrender.
“i wasn’t,” he says genuinely, “you just…uh…you look upset, is all.”
you hesitate for a short second, gauging his sincerity for a moment before sighing and slumping on the desk, cheek resting on your arm. gojo resists the urge to poke the soft flesh—it’ll probably make you mad, and you’re already in a bad mood. 
“he was…pushy,” you say quietly, “i don’t really believe in taking things far on the first date. he didn’t like that.” instantly, his fists clench tightly, eyeing you from the side carefully, almost in concern. “nothing happened,” you wave off, “but he did make me feel disgusting,” you mutter.
“yeah, well, he is a zenin,” he points out, “they’re…well, my family’s known them for a while. my mom hates them.”
you look over at him in mild interest, raising an eyebrow. “don’t tell me there’s drama in the rich community,” you gasp, “i thought you all just came as one to sip fancy wine and laugh at the poor together.”
he snorts, throwing you a toothy grin that you think for a moment is kind of cute—but that doesn’t mean he’s any different from the rest of the rich folks. someone of gojo satoru’s caliber has no business mixing with someone of yours—it’s common knowledge. gojo has everything he wants, and if he doesn’t, it’s a simple matter of asking before it’s his. there’s simply no way you can mold into his world to be what he needs you to be, and when the time inevitably comes when he realizes you’re not what he wants, well…you’d like to save yourself the wounded pride and crushed soul while you can. 
“sometimes we have fancy appetizers too with the wine,” he jokes, “don’t forget those.”
“oh, my apologies,” you chuckle. gojo likes it when you laugh, he decides. it looks much better than when you’re glum—he thinks seeing your lips quirked in anything other than a smile is a waste of your perfect features, and he can’t have that.
“my mom married my old man in this stupid arranged marriage or something,” he explains casually, like it’s just the norm. you suppose it is—for the rich, at least. you wonder briefly if gojo will have a marriage planned for his future, too, and you wonder if he’s okay with that. surely it’ll be some wealthy and fancy socialite of a girl that fits his family’s standards. someone who’s not you—not that you care anyway, you wouldn’t marry him regardless. “my grandma wanted her to marry the zenin, but she said no. said he treated her like a piece of meat every time they met, so she settled for my dad instead. lucky her, 'cause now i’m her son,” he beams. 
settled—something about the way he says it makes you think his parents must not really care for each other as a husband and wife should. it makes you think briefly about what his childhood might’ve been like, not watching his parents happy and in love the way they should be. but still, the way gojo talks about his mother is fond, with a gentle smile on his face as he recalls the things she’s told him. you can’t help but smile a little too.
“i think that makes you the lucky one,” you snort, “you’d still be her son. just that you’d be a zenin.”
he crinkles his nose at the thought, dramatically shivering and making you giggle. “gross,” he gags.
“well, now you have her to thank,” you hum, “your dad would’ve been…whoever the zenin she was supposed to marry is.”
“yeah, well, trust me,” he mumbles, his smile dropping ever so slightly, “my old man’s not that big of an upgrade from a zenin. even my grandfather’s sick of him. imagine being such a douche, your own dad can’t stand you.”
you’re learning more about gojo in one sitting than you ever imagined (or planned) to learn—part of that is because he seems like he’s the type to overshare on the first meet; the other part…well, you have to be honest with yourself, it’s not exactly a bad pastime hearing him talk about himself. gojo is an odd piece of work, and you can’t say you hate learning about the little pieces that come together to make him so weird. 
okay, perhaps weird is a bit rude, you think—he’s…unique.
“oh, so you’re the dictionary definition of a rich boy, huh?” you hum, resting your cheek on your hand as you sit up and face him—gojo, for a quick moment, feels his heart stutter when you talk to him like that: with your undivided attention like he’s the only one in the room. 
“what makes you say that?”
“daddy issues is like…the first thing in the rich boy starter pack.”
he laughs at that, smooth and almost sweet—it’s a dangerous thing. it’s easy to attract you to him, like a bee to honey, with the way his lips curl like that, showing off his dimples. but the bees can easily turn into maggots—and you don’t want to find yourself as a dead carcass by the end of this.
“i don’t have daddy issues,” he says smoothly, “that old man should sleep with both eyes open. if anything, he has son issues.”
“you’re hands down the oddest person i have ever met,” you mumble.
“what was that? did you say hottest? yeah, i know—”
“shut up, jackass,” you scowl, shoving his shoulder when he leans closer with a bat of his lashes. he laughs, and so do you—and just for one, quick, momentary instance, gojo satoru is not so bad. dangerous and a bad choice maybe, a setup for a big mistake perhaps, something you should stay away from, in fact. 
but not so bad. 
“how about i show you what it’s like to go on a date with a gojo,” he grins, winking easily. he’s persistent—very persistent, you note. “you might like it a lot more than a zenin.”
“no, thank you,” you hold a hand up, “never going to happen.”
“never say never,” he hums, “you might eat your words.”
—————
“hey, satoru?”
“that’s not my name.”
“that actually is your name,” you say tiredly.
“hmph,” satoru rolls over, dramatically tugging the blankets over his body as he shuffles away from you, “not to you, it’s not.” 
you sigh, pursing your lips at his antics. “oh my god. okay—hey, toru?” you correct yourself. and just like that, he turns back around, grinning brightly as he inches closer until his head is resting on your chest.
“yes, baby?” he says sweetly, earning a roll of your eyes as your fingers weave into his hair. it’s soft—you don’t think you ever want to let go.
“it’s way better dating a gojo, by the way,” you murmur, “than a zenin.”
“oh yeah?” he grins smugly, arm draping over your body as he kisses your jaw, “i told you it would be, didn’t i?”
“i haven’t dated other rich families to compare, though,” you tease, “you might get replaced.”
“unlikely,” he chuckles, “no one,” there’s a kiss to your jaw, “will love you,” another kiss to your cheek, “like me.”
finally, there’s a slow, soft kiss to your lips—and when he kisses you like that, you have no choice but to believe him.
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satoru sooooo sends multiple texts back to back he just like me for real
7K notes · View notes
megamindsecretlair · 1 month ago
Note
Girrrlll a thought if you will but Terry Richmond the idea of a breeding kink with him. A thought that randomly popped into my unhinged brain for him. Cause GIRL! He’s already toxic in bed and just add that to the mix.
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A/N: You sneakin a peek at my drafts????
I Swear I'll Never Leave
Pairing: Toxic Baby Daddy!Terry Richmond x Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. SMUT. PWP, cursing, PIV, angst if you squint, fingering (fem receiving), teasing, size kink, dirty talk, mean Terry, daddy kink, praise kink, spanking, breeding kink, overstimulation, hair pulling, manhandling, persuasion through the power of dick, all consensual. Sorry if I missed some.
Summary: See Ask. When Terry comes to pick up your daughter, you can’t help picking a fight with him. He sends your daughter outside to wait with Mike while he makes sure you understand a few things.
Word Count: 4,909k
AO3 Link
A/N: WHEW. I hope this lives up to the hype. This is close to the daydream I had. Ya'll know how hard it is to match it perfectly lol. This hurt ME so I hope you enjoy. Toss a coin to your blogger by leaving a comment, gif, or unhinged ask.
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Loud banging on the metal door tore your attention away from your Kindle. You groaned and looked at the time on your alarm clock. It was past two. One of your biggest pet peeves about your baby daddy was that he was annoyingly on time. You were not.
You groaned and got up from bed, picking up the pace once you heard your daughter, Cadence, hopping up and down on your hardwood floors. “Daddy’s here! Daddy’s here!” She giggled, hopping in a circle outside of your room.
“Yes, baby, I heard him,” you said, hunting for your robe. You were only in a giant red sleep shirt while you waited for laundry to get done. The banging continued and you took your precious time finding said robe. That man would just have to wait. 
“Mommy, he’s hereeeee,” Cadence sang, bouncing on the balls of her little feet. 
“Yes, baby, I know. What did we say about patience?” You asked, grabbing your robe from your chair and putting it on. It was actually an old one of Terry’s that was soft and reminded you of him. 
Cadence sighed and stuck out her bottom lip. She looked down and sighed again. “Sometimes we have to wait for what we want,” she said, her voice sounding the complete opposite from what it was before. 
You chuckled and tapped her nose. “Alright now. Go get your things and I’ll let your daddy in, okay?” You asked.
Cadence’s smile returned full force, lighting up her face that looked so much like Terry. Like he spat the baby out and you just carried her. It was honestly disrespectful. Terry banged on the door once more, getting louder and more annoying with it.
You huffed and walked to the front of the house, opening the wooden door. “Can you stop banging on my door like you the police?” You asked. 
Terry chuckled and scratched at his beard. The stubble made him look more rugged and you fought a shiver as you took in the rest of him. He wore black sweats and a matching black tank top molded to his body. 
Tank tops were made for someone like him. Someone so chiseled and well defined. He still kept up his training, still made sure to spend hours in the gym keeping up his physique. It was annoying as hell. Like why couldn’t he let himself go? Couldn’t he make it easier to leave him alone? 
“If you just gave me a key…” Terry said, leaning against the metal door. His gorgeousness was disrupted by the metal screen and you took a deep breath. Facing Terry was like coming into contact with the divine. He was far from a saint, but he was so damn pretty. 
“Nice try. Can’t have you walking in if I have company,” you said, opening the door, finally. Terry’s ever changing eyes watched your every movement. He smiled once you were revealed and you tightened the string on the robe. 
“If you miss me, just say that,” he said, his eyes going lower and lower. You crossed your legs and your arms, communicating to him that you were closed for business. 
“I’m doing mighty fine without you, thank you,” you said. You looked behind you. For all her excitement, what the hell was taking Cadence so long? 
“Mhm,” Terry hummed, smirk curling his lips. You ignored him, tapping your foot on the ground. 
“It’s been four months. When are you gonna let me back in?” Terry moved to take up the entire door frame with his height and size. He wore a do-rag on his head, the ends tucked in. Dressed in all black as he was, he may as well have been a giant red flag.
“How about…October 32nd?” You asked, grinning at him. 
Terry chuckled. “That’s not what you said last time,” he said. 
“I was drunk last time. I would’ve said anything to get off,” you said, just as Cadence came flying through the living room.
“Dadddddyyyyyyyy!” She screamed and launched herself at him. He bent down at the last minute and caught her, giving her a giant hug and swinging her from side to side. 
“How is my little baby?” He asked. He hefted Cadence onto his hip and looked up at her. The grin on her face. You smiled and took out your phone to capture a photo of the both of them. Terry hung the moon as far as your daughter was concerned. As long as he remained a good father, you weren’t going to stand in the way of that. 
She was old enough to realize that daddy was no longer at home with her, but young enough to not fully realize why. You didn’t have the words to explain to her that you loved Terry, but you couldn’t be in the same room with him without wanting to commit bloody murder. 
 Cadence chattered away, telling Terry everything he missed since the last time he saw her. He listened to everything, casting glances at you. You shared a smile with him, admiring this beautiful, creative daughter you made together. 
“I can’t wait to hear more, baby, but I need to talk to mommy. Go play with Uncle Mike until we’re done,” he said.
“We don’t have to talk,” you said. If he went on and left, you could enjoy the rest of your holiday weekend doing absolutely fucking nothing. After laundry and the dishes, you planned on relaxing tonight. You just needed to decide on which type of alcohol to accompany you. 
Terry flicked his eyes to you and raised an eyebrow. You rolled your eyes. The fuck does he want? 
Cadence pouted as Terry put her down but she saw Mike leaning against Terry’s truck. He waved to you and you returned it, watching Cadence run into his arms with the same force she did for Terry. Mike scooped her up and gave her a big hug, tickling her. 
Terry stepped into the house like he owned it. Sure, both of your names were on the deed, but that didn’t mean shit. “Hey!” You called after him and then closed the door. 
Terry looked around and you spread your arms, following behind him. “What the hell are you doing?” You asked. 
Terry checked the living room and then turned back to you with a smirk on his lips. He approached you and you backed away. You realized what he was doing and then stopped, held your ground. Terry encroached into your personal space, looking down his wide nose at you. 
“I know you miss me,” he said. 
You laughed and shook your head. “The fuck make you think that?” You asked and crossed your arms. 
“You pick fights when you need some dick,” he said.
You sputtered as your brain stalled. You wanted to yell at him, curse him, and kick his ass out of your house. But your body was a traitor. You flushed with heat and you grew wet between your legs. 
Fuck. Tequila it was tonight as you threw on a good porno and got yourself off. You had been feeling restless lately, feeling like you wanted to chew through bricks if it meant getting some relief. Ovulation week was horrible. Nothing but dick on the brain and how soon you could get some. How he knew that was a damn mystery, but you tightened the belt on the robe to the point of pain and then re-crossed your arms. 
“That’s not true,” you said. 
Terry advanced on you, pushing you backwards with a few fingers on your tummy. Your back hit the door frame separating the front room from the hallway. Once he had you where he wanted, he pulled at the robe you had on. Your thighs tingled and he opened the robe to reveal your sleep shirt. 
“Laundry day?” He asked.
“How the fu–”
Terry leaned down and brought his lips to yours. He stopped just before contact and you smelled the fresh mint on his breath. “Don’t you know by now that I notice everything about you?” He asked. 
He curled a finger under your chin and lifted it until you looked into the deep pool of his eyes. His thumb stroked your chin and your pussy felt it. It throbbed and the wetness got worse. 
You licked your lips and huffed, giving him a shrug. “I don’t need any help, thank you,” you said. You pushed at his shoulder but he didn’t budge. Didn’t even pretend to. You sighed and tried a different tactic. “Cadence has been looking forward to today for a while. You shouldn’t keep her waiting.”
Terry’s smile was slow and near animalistic. “Speaking of, isn’t it time for us to have another?” He asked. 
You burst with laughter, the force of it stealing your breath. You shook your head and looked at him. His eyes were trained on you, tracking everything, before you burst into laughter once more. You wiped the corners of your eyes and shook your head. “Fuck no,” you said. 
“You sure? Remember how much fun we had making Cadence?” He asked. He kissed the corner of your mouth and then moved his hand from your chin, down around your breast, and then further down to your stomach.
He flattened his big hand across your tummy, giving it a squeeze. His palm was warm, seeping through your shirt. If you had on panties, they’d be ruined by now. You were too turned on. Too flushed with heat. Too down bad to continue even the smallest torture. And he knew it. 
He hummed as he sighed with satisfaction, like he just confirmed something he had been questioning. He blinked and that turned you on. That’s how you knew you were fucked. “Let’s make a son,” he said.
“So I can go through pregnancy alone? Again?” You asked. 
Terry winced and you immediately felt bad. That was below the belt. You sighed and leaned away from him, pushing at his hand. “This is why we don’t work,” you whispered. Terry made you bring your claws out. Wanting to hurt him. And that wasn’t what relationships were about. You shouldn’t want to hurt the love of your life. 
Terry kept his hand on your belly and brought his other hand to cup your cheek. “I know I fucked up. But we do work well together,” he said. 
“You didn’t! I was…” You groaned and threw up your hands. Once more, you tried to fight him. To move. To get out from under his influence. He was your worst drug of choice and you were too weak to stay away. Too weak to walk away. 
Terry stayed in place. He kept his hand cupped to your cheek, holding you in place, and moved his other hand from your stomach down to the edge of your shirt. You gasped as he lifted it, inch by slow, torturous inch, and then skated his fingers along the crease between your thigh and pelvis. His rough fingers felt too good and you leaned into it before catching yourself. 
Terry hummed as he moved his fingers between your legs, seeking between your damp curls, and then wiggling between your pussy lips. You hissed and held onto his shoulders, dug your nails in. 
Terry kissed your cheek. “This is why we work well together. The way you respond…you can’t fake that,” he said. He brought his forehead to the side of yours, fingers starting to play with your essence. He always stopped before he got too close to your clit. 
“We can’t build something on a foundation of sex, Terry,” you said.
“That isn’t our foundation. We still love each other. We’re still in love with each other,” he said, his deep voice was like a physical caress on your body. You felt it along the curves of your hips and the dip between your thighs. You spread your legs wider, giving him more access. 
Your skin felt like it was going to burn to a crisp. You sunk your nails into his shoulders and Terry groaned, rolling his hips forward. You looked down and saw the tent he pitched in his sweats, giving you a nice outline of his dick. His glorious, beautiful dick.
Your thoughts turned fuzzy as he continued to tease you. He’d definitely hit that spot. That deep spot inside that only he could reach. You were pretty sure he created that spot just for him, knowing damn well no other man would compare to his size. Compared to the way he took care of you in the bedroom.
Combined with your hormones going haywire, your knees grew weaker. Your clit throbbed as his questing fingers grew closer and you whimpered as he moved away, swirling figure eight’s with your essence. 
“Let me cum,” you whispered, moving your hips to chase after his fingers. 
“Let me back in the house,” he countered. You sighed and rubbed your head against his.
“Terry…” You said. 
He called your name and then moved his fingers to your entrance. You gasped and he lifted your chin. He pulled back to look into your eyes. Your eyelids were heavy, drooping on a mix of ovulation and lust. 
You were leaving half moons in his skin from your nails. You relaxed and rubbed the pain away. It gave you something to focus on other than his beautiful hands playing you like a damn fiddle. 
Terry pushed his middle finger into your pussy and you moaned, loudly, lewdly, mouth falling open and closed. You wanted to make another sound but fuck if you knew what it would be. 
“How long has it been since last time? Since I was playing in this pussy?” Terry asked. He stepped closer. You brought your leg up to rub against his thigh. It opened you up further for him to pump his thick finger in and out of you. 
In no time, he had you moaning and biting your lip. You were so close…almost there…and…Terry pulled his finger out. You groaned and looked at him. He smirked while he brought his finger to his mouth and suckled. 
“Get that sexy ass on our bed,” Terry said. He moved back slowly so you’d have a chance to lower your leg. 
You whined and stomped your foot. Terry tilted his head. You sighed and moved away from him, marching your ass to the bed. “This is the last time, Terry,” you said over your shoulder. Out from underneath him, clarity returned to your brain. 
You were saying yes for you. You were saying yes because you deserved it. You were saying yes because fuck, it’d been two weeks since he blew your back out and you needed that same loving to get you through the next two weeks. 
In two weeks, you’d be stronger. You’d be able to resist him. You’d be able to look across the threshold at him, picking up your daughter, and not feel that tug towards him. That glimpse into the man you fell in love with before he went into the service. You’d remain unaffected and in control.
Tonight, you were just ready to turn your brain off. Ready to fuck him like you missed him and then let him go after. You walked into your bedroom and moved your Kindle to the nightstand. Terry’s heavy footfalls sounded behind you, matching the beat of your erratic heart. 
“You said that last time,” he said. 
You smoothed out the comforter, in your favorite color, and rolled your eyes. “And I meant it. I mean it now,” you said.
Terry chuckled. “Yes, ma’am. And you’ll mean it next time?” He asked. 
Terry opened the cabinet in your hallway and took out a towel. You lifted your eyes at him. “Someone’s a little confident,” you said. 
“It’s cute when you try to act tough. Like you not drooling over this dick,” he said. He entered the room and took a look around. You wondered if he was comparing things to the last time he was here. Cadence was away at a sleepover and you broke down and asked him to come over to handle the heat between your thighs. 
“Drooling?” You asked and laughed. “If you desperate for this kitty, just say that.” 
“I’m desperate for it,” he said, flicking his warm eyes towards you. You snapped your mouth shut and stared while he laid the towel down on the edge of the bed. He finished and then crossed the room to you.
“You can pretend all you want, but if you didn’t want me? You wouldn’t have worn this,” he said and pulled off the robe. He balled it up and then tossed it to the chair where it usually resided. You licked your lips for lack of a better response. Because…fair.
“And, you would have put on some panties. Some pants,” he said. He lifted your shirt off in one rough yank and you gasped. Terry hummed and looked you up and down. “And you definitely wouldn’t have answered the door like this. Since you did, that can only mean you need me.”
“Need is such a big word,” you said. 
Terry slipped his fingers into your hair and pulled. You moaned and closed your eyes. He walked with you like that, fist full of your hair, to the edge of the bed. He made you climb on the foot of the bed and once in position, he moved you to face the corner of your room. 
The floor mirror showed your reflection, hair pulled up and away in Terry’s hand. He looked at you like he wanted to eat you alive. You absolutely missed this. Missed the way he looked at you like he couldn’t breathe without your smile in his life. Your body naturally bent forward, sticking your ass higher.
Terry locked eyes with you in the mirror. “Need is a very big word,” he said. He smacked your ass and moaned in the back of his throat. 
The pain in your ass blossomed, radiated with fire. Terry delivered a few more smacks. Each one stung worse than the last, but you started to look forward to his smacks. You lifted your ass higher, meeting his hand. Your pussy dripped with your essence. You moaned, pussy clenching as you looked at the focus on his face. The determination. 
His mouth was twisted and his eyebrows were furrowed as he painted your ass with his hand. You started to shake, started to tremble, before he stopped and smoothed his hand down your ass. 
You hissed and moaned, pushing your ass into his hand. Terry yanked on your hair and you groaned as you lifted off of the bed. 
“Look at me,” he ordered. You found his eyes in the mirror. He smiled as he lowered his sweats and then plunged inside of you in one rough thrust. 
“Fuuuuuuuck,” you gasped. Terry’s smirk grew wider. He held firm to your hair, pulling to the point of pain, while he kept himself buried to the hilt. Your nails dug into the sheets, pulled at the covers.
“Look so fuckin’ gorgeous takin’ dick,” he said. 
Your fist pounded feebly on the bed. You couldn’t move unless he willed it. You could only look at the satisfaction on his face. “Condom,” you choked out. 
“We don’t need one, do we?” He asked. He pulled out and then pushed back in. You felt every inch of him. Every long, beautiful inch of his dick sliding against your wet walls. 
Now was not the right time for another baby. You finally felt like you had a handle on Cadence. And she was plenty to handle on a good day. “She won’t forgive us for another baby,” you said, trying to come up for a good reason not to let him bathe your insides. At the moment, everything was coming up short. He and your body were working against your higher functioning. Breaking you down to the basest drive to fuck and make babies. 
Terry pushed in and out of you a few more times, letting your essence coat his dick. “She’ll forgive us,” he said and sped up, slamming his hips into yours. He tightened his hold on your hair, pulling your neck to the side so he could lean down and lick. 
You moaned and shivered, a tingle spreading throughout your body. He stroked, moving his hips, and hitting it just like you needed it. 
“Look how sexy you look,” he said. He pulled your hair and made you lift your face to the mirror. You saw your mouth dropped open, eyes at half mast, ass in the air. Terry hovered on top of you, muscles bunching and flexing beneath his effort. 
“Fuck, Terry, fuck, fuck,” you moaned. Your body raced towards an orgasm. There was no teasing, no playing coy or shy. There was just the feel of him inside of you. Where he belonged. Where he needed to be. You came in no time, embarrassingly easy, and you screamed your release. 
Terry kissed and licked your neck and ear, moaning. His breaths fanned across your neck, right where he licked, and it raised goosebumps on your flesh. 
“Missed this pussy. Missed the way you ride me,” he moaned. 
“Shh, you talk too damn much,” you said, waving him away. One orgasm only fed the next one, making your thighs shake on him. His thighs hit your ass, creating a perfect, rhythmic smack that was seriously turning you on. 
Terry yanked on your hair until you brought your hands up to clutch at his hand. You were on your knees, chest poked out, hissing with pain. Your pussy clenched around his dick, unable to hide how much it turned you on when he manhandled you. 
“I think you forgot who you’re talking to,” he said. He kissed your cheek and looked at you in the mirror.
“Wait, wait, I’m sorry,” you said. You shook your head. 
Terry grinned, showing off that beautiful, devastating smile of his. He grabbed your titty, squeezed the fuck out of your sensitive nipple, and then started ramming in and out of you. “Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you screamed. 
His dick speared you, slamming into your walls. Your very womb ached from his strokes. Wet, loud squelching filled the room. Terry moaned, cursing low and under his breath. Thank god for the towel. You were soaked. And you were flooding his dick with your essence, making you into a slip n’ slide. 
Terry groaned, getting lost in it, as he fucked you like a toy. “Takin’ me so well, you a professional, huh?” He asked.
You shook your head, unable to speak. Unable to hear properly. He found that deep spot inside, practically kissing your cervix, dick hitting it with precision. You moaned, low and long. You squeezed the hand that held your hair and he ignored you. 
“Keep this up, you gon’ make me bust. That’s what you want, right?” He asked. 
You nodded. Fuck, yes, you wanted it. You needed it. You needed his cum inside of you. You wanted to be the only receptacle for his cum. If it wasn’t in his hand, you wanted it all over you and inside of you. You wanted, you wanted, you wanted.
“Words,” he said. Both of you grew damp with sweat. Bodies sliding against each other. Grabbing onto each other for dear life. As if the moment you let go, you’d fade away forever. You’d drown and lose yourself and he was your only tether to the real world. It came down to you connected to him. 
“I can’t,” you moaned. You weren’t going to last much longer. You were close again. So fuckin’ close that it hurt. Your tummy cramped, the need to cum overwhelming. You also didn’t want to give in. Didn’t want to concede.
“Admit you need me,” he said. 
“Terry, please,” you whined. Terry slowed down his strokes. “No, no, no!” 
Terry moved his hand from your titty to lay across your entire chest. He kept you upright with his arm, hand grabbing your other titty so he could roll your nipple between his fingers. You whined and cried, tears gathering in your eyes. “Please,” you whimpered.
“Say you miss me. Say you want this baby I’m finna give you,” he said. He locked eyes with you in the mirror. 
He saw everything. Saw the way you were sniffling and pleading with your eyes. You squeezed his hand that was still clutching your hair but he refused to move. His dick throbbed, still lodged inside you, and you wanted to collapse. This was too much for you. Too intense. 
“Terry,” you begged. 
Terry kissed your cheek, the space beneath your ear, and then licked the shell of your ear. “I need to hear it,” he said, his voice low. 
You closed your eyes as you retreated from the edge. You groaned as you could feel it going away.
“I need to hear that you crave this dick. That you get flashbacks, times when I hit it well. That you wake up in the middle of the night, burning, wanting to call me but knowing that if you do, it’s just one more step to me moving back in. Moving back in and taking care of you, of Cadence, of this baby,” he said. He couldn’t help moving a little, rocking you up and down his dick once.
“Fuck,” you moaned. Your pussy clenched around him and Terry groaned. 
“I know that pussy want it. Hear how she talkin’? What she trynna say to me?” He asked. 
“Don’t stop,” you moaned, voice breathy. “Don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 
“What’s she really saying?” He asked.
“I want that baby,” you moaned. Fuck, how could you not? How could you not want another tether to him? Another way to call him yours? 
Your problems were in the back of your mind. You were tired of sleeping in a cold bed. Tired of handling Cadence by yourself. Tired of doing this shit by yourself. You wanted your man at home. Wanted him deep in your pussy whenever the mood struck.
“That’s my girl,” he said. He started moving again, slamming his dick in and out of you. He moved his hand from your titties to your stomach, stopping to squeeze your belly. You moaned and he squeezed again. 
You loved when he did that. When he touched you possessively. Hungrily. Like there was too much skin for him to get to at once. Like he wanted it all, wanted every last inch of you there was to have. You matched his strokes, throwing it back on him. 
Terry groaned and moved his hands to your pussy, pushing past your pussy lips and stroking your clit. He rubbed furiously, flicking your clit, and you made incoherent sounds. Sputtered through moans, groans, and “oh my god, yes, please, nut in me, nut in meeeee, oueee.”
Terry growled in your ear and that sent you over. The raw need in his throat. You twitched and jerked, moaning, promising him however many babies he wanted. His chuckle was cut off by a groan as he stroked a few more times before cumming. 
He rammed one last time and kept you plugged up while he came and came. Thick, hot ropes of cum painted your inner walls and your brain turned to mush as he did so. His dick throbbed. Your pussy ached. A deep hole was filled by him. By this beautiful, messy, fucked up, toxic man you called the love of your life. 
“Fuuuck,” you twitched on his throbbing dick. He groaned as he huffed and recovered from his orgasm, pulling out to watch himself leak out. He spread your ass cheeks, gave it a smack, and then reentered you.
“Ouee, shit,” you moaned, thighs tingling. 
Terry chuckled and bottomed out, keeping himself there. “I think we just made a son, baby,” he said and pulled you into a kiss. Your neck ached in this position but fuck it. You wanted his sloppy, wet kisses. 
He kissed you sweetly as he moved his hand from your pussy to your stomach, massaging it. You giggled and tapped at his shoulder. “Really mu’fucker?” You asked. 
He chuckled and pecked you on the lips. “Just increasing our chances. Get this sexy, beautiful body in the shower. You gotta start taking care of the both of you,” he said. 
You laughed and pushed at his shoulder with yours. “You get on my nerves!” You said, disentangling his hand from your hair.
Terry moved, pushing his cum deeper inside with shallow strokes. You hissed and moaned, loving the feeling of him. “I’m gonna take Cadence out to the park. And then we’re gonna have dinner tonight and explain that Daddy’s moving back in,” he said. 
You sighed heavily and rolled your eyes. But you didn’t argue. “Yes, Daddy,” you moaned.
Terry pulled out and helped clean you up, taking the soaked towel off of the bed and throwing it in the laundry room. He fixed his outfit and you watched from the bed, sorry he hadn’t gotten naked as well.
“Don’t worry. I’ll be back tonight fucking that attitude out of you,” he said.
You gasped and he chuckled, running out of the house before you could call him everything but a child of God. 
The end.
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You know I can't keep this man off the brain! The Secret Terry Richmond Files
Taglist: YALL. Have overwhelmed with this tag list, thank you!
@planetblaque @chaos-4baby @amethyst09 @ciaqui @we-outsiiiide
@browngirldominion @iv0rysoap @thecookiebratz @harmshake @00aijia00
@judymfmoody @multiversefanfics @tvchi @xo-goldengirl @superhoeva
@avoidthings @lovedlover @blackgurlnhermoods @flydotty @sageispunk
@semi-yah @halfreal-and-halffiction @motheroffae @melaninpov @pinkpantheris
@slutsareteacherstoo @blackerthings @dreamsinfocuss @brattyfics @mermaidchansons
@monaeesstuff @henneseyhoe @blowmymbackout @charismablu @playgurlxoxo
@misskiki90 @miyuhpapayuh @satoruya @starcrossedxwriter @yamst3rdamctrl
@steampunkprincess147 @sweettea-and-honeybutter @theblacklewinsky @soft-persephone @notapradagurl7
@thegreatlibraryofalex @amyhennessyhouse @hihellogoodbyebruh @becauseimswagman1
822 notes · View notes
daisynik7 · 1 year ago
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Pairing: Takuma Ino x f!reader
Rating: Explicit – MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
Word Count: ~1.7k
cw: explicit language, mentions of a popular horror movie, smut – PIV sex (cowgirl position), nipple play, blow job, mask kink, slight degradation (slut, whore), use of pet names (cutie, sweetie, baby) 
Summary: You and your new boyfriend Ino decide to watch a horror movie together in honor of spooky season. Halfway through, he notices how skittish you are, making him want to play a silly prank on you with his signature ski mask. It’s all fun and games until he realizes that you actually like seeing him in this way more than he anticipated. 
Author’s Note: Happy October y'all! What can I say, I am VERY into Takuma Ino right now and I just had to get this out of my system. This is barely edited or proofread, sorry for any grammar mistakes or typos, I really was just letting my fingers fly through this in a moment of passion LOL. Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are always appreciated, thank you for reading! MDNI banner by @/cafekitsune. 
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You turn off all the lights, the only source of illumination coming from the TV screen, paused at the very start of the movie you decided to watch tonight. With a big bowl of freshly popped kernels in your grasp, you huddle beside your boyfriend, Ino, on the couch, covering both your legs with a fleece blanket. He wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer, reaching to grab a handful of popcorn to stuff inside his mouth. “Ready?” he muffles, pointing the remote to the screen, finger pressed to the center button. 
Nuzzling your head against him, you answer. “Yup!”
It’s apparently one of those cult classic horror flicks according to Ino, who recommended it when you mentioned how you wanted to watch something scary for October. He’s seen it before, many times in fact, but he insists that you watch it. He has no clue how frightened you get over the silliest things, so tonight will be a treat for the both of you. 
The opening scene plays out: a beautiful blonde picks up the phone and the conversation ends quickly short because it’s the wrong number. Normal so far, good. It rings again, but now the caller seems interested in talking. Do you like scary movies? Do you have a boyfriend? The man’s voice gives you the creeps, and you find yourself shuddering from it, cuddling closer to Ino, who glances at you with a smirk on his face. 
You never told me your name.
Why do you want to know my name?
Because I want to know who I’m looking at.
This line gives you goosebumps and you lift the blankets up to hide behind it. “Ew, creepy!” Ino only laughs, throwing a few more pieces of popcorn into his mouth. 
It escalates from here, getting increasingly chaotic and violent. By the time you’re halfway into the film, the bowl is down to its last kernels and you’re crouched in Ino’s lap, peeking through your fingers. He pauses the movie after one particularly brutal kill. “Snack break! I’m going to make some more popcorn and go pee.”
“You’re leaving?!” you whine, clinging on to him as he tries to get up.
He chuckles. “Babe! It’s just a movie. I’ll be right back, okay?” He kisses you on the forehead, heading into the kitchen, leaving you alone in the living room. 
Of course it’s just a movie, but you can’t help feeling creeped out in the dark like this. You reach for one of the nightstands, turning on the lamp. You hear the drone of the microwave, and after a minute or so, the distinct sound of popping. Eventually, it comes to a stop, and the entire house is eerily quiet. You’re tempted to call out for Ino, wondering where he is, but you remember that he had to use the bathroom. 
Suddenly, a shadowy figure appears right behind on you on the couch, grabbing your shoulders and shouting gibberish at you. You scream bloody murder, ready to punch him and run away when Ino lifts his ski mask up to reveal himself, tears streaming down his face, cracking up at you. 
“Ino!” you yell at him, slapping his hands away from you. “You fucking asshole!”
He doubles over, cackling, wiping his eyes. It takes a good while for him to regain his composure as you glare at him, arms crossed over your chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I just couldn’t resist.” He sits beside you, stretching his arms out for a hug. “You have to admit, that was fucking hilarious.”
You shake your head, refusing. “You’re such a dick.”
“Oh, come on! It was just a little prank. Now you’ll be way more prepared for the rest of the movie!” He pulls the mask over his face again, everything covered except the holes for his eyes. “See? Not so scary anymore, right?”
You inspect him carefully, still pouting, not saying a word.
“I’m sorry, sweetie. Truly. I promise not to scare you again.” He scoots towards you, nudging you in the arm. 
You roll your eyes at him, relaxing. “Fine.”
“Can I get a kiss now?” 
He tries to lift his mask up, but you stop him, pulling it back down. “I don’t want to see your face right now. I’m still annoyed, you know.”
“Aw man! Really?”
You hoist it just past his nose, leaning in to give him a soft kiss on the lips. When you break apart, he smirks at you. “You like this, don’t you? Seeing me with my mask on.”
You shrug, a sly grin on your face, neither confirming nor denying his accusation. Sure, you were a bit upset at first, when he scared the shit out of you. But seeing his face covered like that may have sparked a desire in you that you never knew you had, until now. 
“Oh my god! You do, you do!” he exclaims, shaking your arm. “My cutie has a mask kink!”
“Shut up, asshole!” you yell at him, pretending to shove him off, smiling. 
“You’re a fucking freak!” he giggles, pouncing on you. He starts tickling you along your ribcage, causing you to squirm beneath him as he straddles you, trapping you between his legs. His fingers flutter under your arms, stroking your sensitive skin.
“Ino!” you cry out, laughing from the sensation. 
You can feel his cock growing hard in his pants, balls heavy on your stomach. Suddenly, he stops, mask still folded to expose his lips, leaning down to kiss you sloppily. He pins your hands above your head, locking his fingers with yours. He slips inside your mouth, grazing your tongue with his, hungry for your saliva. “Fuck,” he moans into you, nipping at your bottom lip. “You like this freaky shit, don’t you? Nasty slut.” His playful tone is laden with lust now, low and sultry, mouth brushing along your neck, sucking at your pulse points to mark you. 
You whine his name, wrapping your legs around his waist, grinding yourself against him. 
“Look at you, getting so fucking dumb all because of my mask,” he purrs. “What else turns you on, cutie? Tell me.”
Without thinking, you blurt out, “Spit. Your spit. I want it.”
“Oh shit,” he swears, licking his mouth. He traces the outline of your lips, beckoning you to open up, dribbling a thick wad of saliva inside you. You gulp it down, sticking your tongue out for more. 
“Oh fuck, you’re nasty,” he says, doing it again. “Makes me so fucking horny seeing you like this. Seeing my cutie act like a fucking whore.” He slips beneath your shirt, fondling your bare breasts, flicking your peaked nipples with his thumbs. 
“Fuck, Ino,” you whisper, pussy throbbing in your panties, arousal leaking through the fabric. 
“You like it when I play with your tits, huh?” Like it when I pinch them hard like this.” He squeezes them between his thumb and index finger, enough pressure to stimulate you, making you moan his name again and again.
He swears under his breath, shoving his pants down his legs, shimmying out of them until he’s only in his underwear now, erection stiff in his boxers. “You gonna suck my cock now or what, slut?” 
You nod, kneeling in front of him, knees on the carpet, spreading his thighs apart. He lifts his ass off the couch to slide out of his boxers, letting them fall around his ankles. You kiss the tip of his dick, smearing his precum around your lips like gloss before swallowing him into your mouth. 
He lets out a drawn out, “Fuck,” watching you with wide eyes as you bob up and down his shaft. Voice shaky, he asks, “Can I put my hands on you?”
Something about him in this ski mask makes you want to be submissive, makes you want to be used. You grab both his hands, guiding them towards the sides of your head, giving him free rein to manhandle you.
“Holy shit,” he murmurs, gripping you tighter, gradually thrusting his hips in tandem with you. His cockhead hits the back of your throat, teasing your gag reflex, but you resist, tears collecting in the corners of your eyes, enduring it. 
Noticing you, he pulls out, a string of spit between you. “Baby, baby. Please don’t force yourself. I don’t want to hurt you.” He reaches to his side, grabbing a tissue from the table beside the couch, wiping away the spit around your mouth and the tears in your eyes. “Come here, cutie. I want to make you feel good too.”
You strip out of your bottoms, straddling his lap, pussy wet and aching against him. He moans as you rock back and forth on his shaft, pressing his thumb to your clit, massaging it. “There we go. Now we both can feel good, yeah?”
After a few more strokes, you beg him to fuck you, lifting up to guide his cock inside you slowly, sinking down on him until he bottoms out. You bounce on him, his hands gripped to your waist, guiding you, moaning your name between expletives. 
As you approach your orgasm, you pull up his mask, placing it on his head as he usually wears it. He smiles brightly at you, nuzzling his nose to yours. “There’s my pretty girl. Can you come for me now? Come all over this cock?”
You kiss him passionately, arms wrapped around his neck as he thrusts into you, hands squeezed on your ass now. You reach your climax, moaning into his mouth. He comes with you, shooting his load deep into your womb, filling you up with his cream pie. The two of you continue to kiss slowly, catching your breaths. He caresses your back while you melt into his embrace. 
“We need to establish a safe word,” he suggests, cradling you in his arms. “I want to make sure I’m not hurting you.”
You hum into his skin, saying the first thing that comes to mind. “Popcorn."
He chuckles, stroking the back of your neck gently. “Alright. Popcorn it is.” A beat later, he exclaims, “Popcorn! I totally forgot about the popcorn!”
You laugh, giving your boyfriend a wet smooch on the cheek.
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ponderingmoonlight · 3 months ago
Note
I love your writing, you are very talented. Can I request a story about Sanemi? The story goes like this: “On the day when all the hunters are fighting Muzan, Sanemi's wife went into labor (could you put his wife giving birth to triplets?). I love you darling.
Sanemi's wife giving birth during the Infinity Castle Battle
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Pairing: Sanemi x fem!reader
Word Count: 2k
Synopsis: You were so sure your husband will guide you through the delivery of your triplets until the fight between Muzan and the demon slayer corps - including Sanemi. Will you make it all on your own? And will your husband return to your side in time?
Warnings: this is pure drama and I cried a little while writing lol, never gave birth to a child so sorry if this is trash, big angst but fluff in the end, ENJOY 🤍
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The night air is thick with tension, each breath you take carrying the weight of what is happening just beyond the horizon. You can feel it in your bones, a concerning anxiety that creeps up your spine and settles in your racing heart. Tonight is the night, the one you dreaded for so long—the final battle against Muzan Kibutsuji, the king of demons.
But for you, the darkness that threatens to consume the world is nothing against the raging in your own body. It was a risk all along and you knew it since Shinobu delivered the news to you. Getting pregnant at such times, carrying for a child in the middle of an endless battle? And to top it all off…With triplets?
“We’re gonna figure this out. Together. After all, I’ll rip off the head of anyone who gets too close to you!”
“You really don’t need to do that, Sanemi.”
The warm words of your husband linger in your mind while you stare at the dark ceiling. Oh, how much he cared for you this whole pregnancy, slaughtering demons in record time only to return to his wife a couple hours later. He did what he could, always stayed by your side and made sure everything went fine.
Until he had to leave. The contractions started early that evening, subtle at first, but now they come in waves that steal your breath and make you clutch at the sheets of the futon beneath you.
"Sanemi..." you whisper his name into the empty room, knowing he isn’t there to hear it.
Your husband is out there, fighting with everything he has, determined to bring an end to the nightmare that claimed so many lives already. He promised you that he’ll return, that he’ll come back to you and the children you carry.
“I’m here with you, Lady Shinazugawa. Breathe with me.”
But those promises feel fragile in the face of such overwhelming danger. Your midwife grabs your hand gently, her warm eyes desperately trying to comfort you.
Another contraction hits, this one stronger than the last. You bite down on your lip to stifle a cry, not wanting to alarm the Kakushi who are stationed outside the door. They are truly kind, offering their assistance constantly, but you sent them away with a forced smile and a shake of your head. You want to do this alone with your midwife, to bring your children into the world in the quiet peace of your home rather than in the chaos of battle.
But peace is a passing thing tonight.
You close your eyes and focus on your breathing, the way Sanemi had taught you during those brief, stolen moments of calm, like the midwife has shown him multiple times. He has always been so strong, so determined, and it is that strength you hold onto now. You imagine him beside you, his hand clasping yours, his voice a soothing balm against the pain.
“You can do it, darling. Just think about your breathing, concentrate on my voice. Let’s do this together.”
But as the hours wear on and the contractions grow closer together, you know you can’t do this without him. The pain is becoming unbearable, and your body betrays you, muscles tensing and convulsing as the babies make their way into the world.
A knock at the door breaks through your fog of pain, and a Kakushi enters, his face pale with concern.
“Lady Shinazugawa, please, let us help you. We’ve sent for Lady Kocho’s Tsugoko - she’ll be here soon.”
“I’m truly sorry Lady Shinazugawa, but a doctor is unavoidable at this rate”, the midwife adds while wiping away your blood that covers her hands entirely.
You want to protest, to insist that you can handle this on your own, but the words die on your lips as another contraction takes hold. The Kakushi rushes to your other side, his hands trembling as he helps you lie back against the futon together with your midwife.
“Just breathe,” the midwife murmurs, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“You’re doing so well. They’ll be here soon.”
You nod, biting back the tears that threaten to spill over. You never felt so alone, so vulnerable, and yet you know you have to be strong—for your children and for your husband who risks his life in battle at this very moment for you.
Time seems to stretch and contract in strange ways, and you lose track of how long you labor, each contraction blurring into the next. The room is spinning, the pain almost too much to bear. Just before your eyes threaten to flutter shut, the door bursts open and reveals Aoi.  
She immediately takes charge, her hands steady as she examines you.
“You’re doing wonderfully. It won’t be long now” she says with unusual gentle voice.
You can only nod, too exhausted to speak. The pain is relentless, a constant wave crashing over you, but there is a flicker of hope now, a sense that the end might be in sight.
“Sanemi…” you whisper again, your heart aching for him.
You want him here so bad, want him to see the birth of your children, to hold them and know that they are safe.
But as another contraction grips you, you know that wish is impossible. Sanemi is out there, fighting for his life, and you have to trust that he will return to you as soon as everything’s over.
“Hold on. The first baby is almost here. Just one more push”, Aoi’s voice cuts through the haze.
You gather every ounce of strength you have left, every bit of resolution you can collect, and with a cry that echoes through the room, you push.
And push.
And push.
The sound of a newborn’s wail fills the air, and for a moment, everything else fades away. Aoi holds up the tiny, squirming form, her eyes shining with pride.
“It’s a boy,” she announces with a warm smile and tears glistening in her eyes.
“Shinobu-san will be so proud of you.”
Tears spill over your cheeks as she places the baby in your arms. He’s so small, so perfect, with a shock of dark hair and eyes that blink up at you, unfocused but curious. You hold him close, your heart swelling with love.
But there is no time to linger. The next contraction hits you with full force, and you know the second baby is on the way. Aoi takes the firstborn from your arms, handing him to the Kakushi who remained by your side, and then she was there again, guiding you through the next birth.
The second child comes more quickly, and soon you are holding another tiny life in your arms - a girl this time, with her father’s fierce eyes and a shock of white hair that makes you laugh through your tears. You and your husband always wondered about how your children will look like.
“You really want them to have my hair? Hell no, I don’t want my kids to look like they’re 80 right from the start.”
And still, there is one more.
By the time the third baby arrives, you are beyond exhaustion, barely able to keep your eyes open. But you force yourself to stay awake, to see your third child. Another boy with a face so like Sanemi’s that it takes your breath away.
You hold all three of them close, your heart so full it feels like it might burst. They are perfect, each one of them, and despite the pain and the fear, you know it had all been worth it.
But even as you hold your children, a part of you remains stuck to the battlefield, to the man who risks everything to protect you and them. You pray that he’ll return, that he’ll survive this night and comes home to you.
Hours passed in a blur of exhaustion and overwhelming love. The Kakushi and midwife tend to the babies, cleaning them and wrapping them in soft blankets while Aoi ensured that you were stable until she was forced to leave as well. Everything seems peaceful – too peaceful.
But as the first light of dawn creeps through the windows, a new tension fills the air. The Kakushi who remained by your side was called away as well, his face pale as he listened to hurried whispers at the door. Your heart clenches with fear, knowing that whatever news arrived can’t be good at all.
“Do you…”, you begin, your voice trembling with worry as you try to talk to your stressed midwife.
But before she can answer, the door slams open and your heart leaps into your throat.
There he stands, his haori torn and bloodied, his eyes wild as they search the room. Can it really be him? Is it really possible that he…returned? In the matter of second, your tired eyes fill with tears, take in his sight. It really is him. He really made his way back to you.
“Sanemi!” you cry, relief flooding through you.
In an instant, he is at your side, his hands reaching for you as if to reassure himself that you are really there.
“Are you alright? Are you hurt?”, his rough voice mutters, strained with worry.
“I’m fine. I-…I’m fine,” you breathe out, your eyes overflowing with tears while taking in the sight of him.
He looks exhausted, battered from the battle, but he’s alive.
Your husband is alive.
“I’m fine, Sanemi. And so are they.”
His eyes follow yours to the three tiny bundles in your arms, and for a moment, he simply stares as if he can’t believe what he’s seeing. Then, slowly, he reaches out, his hand trembling as he touches the soft cheek of the nearest baby.
“They’re… ours?” he asks, his voice barely more than a whisper.
You nod, smiling through your tears.
“Two boys and a girl. They’re perfect, Sanemi.”
His breath hitches and you catch a glimpse at the glimmer of tears in his eyes when he gently takes the baby from your arms, cradling him as if he is the most precious thing in the world.
“They’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.
“Just like their mum.”
You watch as he carefully holds each of your children, his eyes softening with a tenderness you’ve rarely seen. This is a side of Sanemi that few ever caught, a side that is all yours.
“They’re strong,” you add, your voice soft as you watched him with your daughter.
“Just like their father.”
He shakes his head, a rough laugh escaping him.
“No, they’re strong like their mother.”
You reach out, taking his hand in yours, needing to feel the solid warmth of him, to know that he’s really here.
“You came back to us,” you whisper, the fear that had gripped you all night finally releasing its hold.
He looks at you with his intense but somehow empty gaze.
“Hell, yeah, I promised you I would, didn’t I?”
You nod, a smile breaking through the tears.
“Yes, you did.”
Sanemi leans down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead, then to each of the babies’ heads, his expression softening with each touch.
“I’ll always come back to you,” he vows, his voice a low, fierce whisper.
“No matter what fucking demon wants to kill me. But it’s over now, darling. It’s finally over.”
You believe him, with every fiber of your being. The battle is over, and you all survived. Your family is whole, and that is all that mattered.
“What about the others, are they alright-“
“No. Let’s talk about that another time. Right now, I just want to stay here like this for a while”, he interrupts you.
As the first rays of sunlight stream into the room, you lean into Sanemi’s embrace, your heart full to bursting with love for the man who chose you as his wife back then.
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Tags: @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix  @ynackerman9499 @keepghostly @beatrexworld
@froufrousnowman @hidazinie @tomiokathedepresso  @poketrainer2270 @chaoticwinnercupcake
@lees-chaotic-brain @wordskeeper @polarbvnny @sugu-love @ryva @baku2345
@komelrebi-san @kentocalls @barbuse @sunshine7queen @lavenderdrxp
@yaninnaacu @hopefulbelievertimemachine @vrystalius @sanemifucker @blunderland
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little-diable · 2 months ago
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Crimson River - Tyler Owens (smut)
This came to me while overthinking a situation I'm currently stuck in lol. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: The reader and Tyler have been chatting online for months, and now it's time for them to finally meet in real life. Porn with some plot
Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, some spitting, full on fluff
Pairing: Tyler Owens x fem!reader (2.5k words)
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“So, when will I get to share these songs with you face to face?” Her thumbs were hovering over her keyboard, eyes flickering from his text to her calendar. (Y/n)’s heart was pounding, beating in her chest while her teeth tugged on her lower lip.
It could be easy, too easy almost. 
“How’s the weekend looking for you, you busy tornado wrangler?” Heat shot to her cheeks, leaving her to burn up while putting down her phone. This was crazy, and yet she couldn’t find it in herself to back down, not when she could finally meet him.
Him, the guy she had been texting for months now.
Him, the guy she had first bonded over music with, sharing a similar taste. 
Him, the guy whose every storm chasing stream she had watched ever since he had shared more about himself with her. 
“If it means I get to see you, I’ll hold it free, sweetheart.” A chuckle broke out of her. (Y/n) deeply exhaled before shaking her head at her screen. This was crazy, but the best kind of crazy, something she desperately needed to rip herself out of her daily routine. 
“Count me in, I’ll book my flights now.”
……
Her thoughts were racing, just like her heart. (Y/n) moved with the big crowd, knowing that she was about to step out into the arrivals hall, where he was already waiting for her. She was unable to shake the heat sticking to her, still not fully realising that she was about to cross paths with the man she had been in touch with for months without ever meeting him. 
And then she instantly saw him, eyes drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a gravitational field that left her buzzing in excitement. His strong arms found their way around her, pressing (y/n) against him while she sank into the hug. 
“I can’t believe you’re finally here.” With a kiss pressed to her temple, Tyler let go of her to reach for her bag. She could only smile up at him, taking in the handsome face she had seen on her screen too many times to count.
“Thank you for picking me up.” (Y/n) tried to rip her gaze from him, eyes set on the crowd he directed her through with one hand placed on her lower back. Her mind picked apart every little detail, their height difference, the scent of his cologne she’d probably never forget again, the way his warm hand felt pressed against her back. All of it left her buzzing, tingling in excitement. 
Only as she found herself sitting in his truck did she allow herself to relax and breathe. Tyler had instantly managed to lure her into a conversation, making her feel as if they had met up numerous times before today. And yet (y/n) still struggled to realise that this was really happening, that she was so close to the handsome man she had fostered a crush on for quite some time now. 
“I thought tonight we could go for something slow, maybe watch a movie? And tomorrow you’ll get to meet the crew.” He shot her one of his signature smiles, hand finding her thigh for a second. The touch felt intimate, shooting heat straight to the spot while her mind hyper fixated on the way electricity kept pushing through her as if lighting kept hitting her over and over again. 
“That sounds perfect, thank you.” She could already tell that a weekend was not nearly enough, parting again would hurt more than she could even imagine at that very moment. 
……
The screen of his TV kept flickering on, casting shadows in the spacey living room. It had been a while since they had arrived at his place. Both had opted for some downtime first before they’d get to cooking and sharing a meal. Even though she was slowly adjusting to being around Tyler, it still felt somewhat surreal, like a dream she’d be ripped from too soon.
“Hey, are you okay?” She had her feet pressed against his thigh, eyes flickering to them as Tyler softly squeezed her skin. The touch made her sink further into the couch, hoping that the way he made her feel wasn’t all that obvious to Tyler. But the smirk slowly tugging on his lips told her that he was all too aware of the way she struggled to hold it together, unable to speak much. 
Only a hum broke through (y/n), a sound that turned into a quiet gasp the second he tugged on her feet to place her legs over his thighs. One of his hands found space between her knees, grabbing her flesh while the other settled on top. 
How in God's name was she supposed to survive this? 
“Talk to me, sweetheart.” Tyler stopped the movie without taking his eyes off her features. She couldn’t help but wonder how he was already able to read her that well, how he managed to pick up on micro expressions even her closest friends would most likely miss. 
“It’s just surreal, all of this, finally talking to you and being close to you. I knew we’d get along well, but,” the rest of her sentence was lost in the quietness of the room. Tyler’s thumb stroked along the fabric of her trousers, patiently watching her.
“But this is different.” He finally managed to finish her sentence, unable to bite down the smile both couldn’t shake now. “I know what you mean, I was hoping it’d work that well like it does when we text, but this is so much better.” 
Another hum left (y/n), she pulled her legs from his grasp to shift around, finding confidence in the way he had just expressed what she had also been feeling. Slowly, carefully almost, (y/n) placed her head against his chest, instantly pulled closer by the arm finding its way around her. Tyler pressed a kiss to her hairline before he started the movie again, unable to see the bright smile she now wore, perfectly matching his.
……
(Y/n)’s legs were dangling off the kitchen counter, eyes following Tyler around as he cooked for them. Music was filling the kitchen, playing a playlist both had crafted over the past months, their own personal blend. Ever since their moment on the couch, both had been unable to shake their smiles, hearts racing in sync. 
“Here, do you like that?” Tyler found himself settling between her thighs, looking at her while pushing the spoon past her parted lips. The moment had something awfully intimate to it, pushing heat through both of them. (Y/n) could only nod her head, not noticing how her legs had loosely found their way around his thighs, keeping him close.
Tyler’s thumb found her mouth, brushing away a bit of sauce clinging to her skin, a touch that made her breath hitch in her chest. She kept looking at him, getting lost in the piercing eyes that had seen more tragic glimpses of this life than (y/n) could ever imagine, and yet they were filled with a burning longing. 
For a few more seconds they kept holding eye contact, torn apart by his phone timer going off. Tyler had to clear his throat before he could focus on finishing dinner, trying not to pay her intense gaze any of his attention. He knew all too well that he was close to snapping, close to crossing the last line between them to press his lips against hers.
But as much as Tyler wanted to kiss her, to taste her like he had done numerous times in his dreams, he knew that he should take things slow. He didn’t want to push things too far on their first night together, all Tyler was focused on was seeing her comfortable and happy.
“We could eat outside if you want, stars should be out by now.” Her heart was close to jumping out of her chest, freed by the heat his words made her feel. Months ago he had shared a picture of the starry sky he was fortunate enough to look at whenever he was home, a sight that had left her to confess that she desperately wanted to see them too.  
“Thank you, Tyler.” (Y/n)’s words carried more meaning than he picked up on, not seeing through the adoration swimming in her pupils. 
……
“Tyler.” (Y/n) mumbled his name, eyes set on his features. They were still sitting on the bench outside his home, sharing a blanket to keep them shielded from the cold night. His eyes flickered down to meet hers, patiently waiting for her to keep on speaking. “Will you finally kiss me?”
Her words drew a loud laugh from him, he shook his head at (y/n) who could only grin up at him. Tyler’s hand found her cheek, wordlessly asking her to keep on looking at him while his eyes wandered over her features, “And here I was trying to be a gentleman.”
(Y/n)’s reply was lost on the tip of her tongue as he dipped his head down. Tyler’s lips ghosted over her’s, drawing a soft whine out of (y/n) as he kept a small distance between them. Only as her hand found his jacket, tugging on the fabric to pull him closer, did he properly kiss her. 
The kiss shot shudders down her spine, making hairs rise on her forearms while shuffling closer. Within moments she found herself straddling his lap, front pressed against his to cross any distance still lingering between them like two lonely ships crossing the sea to find back to one another, guided by nothing but their need to be close. 
Their lips moved perfectly together, the kiss wasn't rushed, but it was fuelled by their longing which had grown stronger over the past months. Tyler’s hands settled on her waist, fingers toying with the hemline of her sweater, set on feeling her warm skin pressed against his. For a moment they broke apart, grasping onto new air to fill their burning lungs. 
“Stop me anytime you want, sweetheart.” (Y/n) searched his lips again, not giving Tyler a chance to speak another word while his hands found her burning up skin. Her wandering fingers found his hairs, brushing through them to draw a moan from Tyler, a sound that vibrated on her lips and through her whole body. 
He didn’t speak a warning as he suddenly stood up, holding onto (y/n) to carry her back inside. With her arms wrapped around his neck and her legs around his waist, she let him carry her inside and towards his bedroom. Both were heavily breathing after pulling apart, chests rising and falling while chuckles broke out of them.
(Y/n) let him pull her sweater over her head, exposing her bra to his wandering eyes. The groan rumbling through Tyler made her grin, letting her hands reach for his belt loops to pull him closer, expertedly undoing his belt, “I know we should take this slow, but I really need you to fuck me now after all these months.”
“You’re killing me, sweetheart.” Their eyes held contact as she freed his hardening cock, letting his trousers drop to the ground. Tyler’s moans spurred her on, allowing her to marvel at the handsome man while pumping his length a few times. But Tyler didn’t have the patience to drag this out long enough, he gave her a push back, tugged her trousers and panties down her legs while (y/n) undid her bra. “You’re the prettiest sight, fuck, I’m the luckiest man.”
“Says you, I mean look at you.” She could only stare at him as the rest of his clothing was dropped, exposing his abs and his muscular chest – all while his fingers began to wander up her legs. He pressed kisses to her soft skin, sucking on her flesh as his fingertips ghosted over her warm folds, feeling her arousal already sticking to her skin. 
Tyler kept his gaze on her features as he spat down on her heat, spreading his saliva on her warm skin. He circled her pulsing bundle a few times to draw soft moans from (y/n), needing to hear them as if they were his favourite drug, high on her sounds. For a second, he parted from her to find a condom, to roll it down his cock, and to brush his tip through her folds. 
“Look at me, sweetheart.” (Y/n) looked up at Tyler, feeling herself getting choked up from the way he looked at her. Something she’d only be able to describe as love swam in his pupils – a love so intense it only grew stronger as he pushed into her. Her eyes instantly fluttered shut at the sensation, fingernails scratching at his skin, walls fluttering around him. Tyler held still for a second, giving her time to adjust before he dipped his head down to kiss her.
Their bodies met with every thrust, allowing (y/n) to feel him deep inside of her, stretching her with every move. With every contact even more sinful sounds began to claw through them, reverberating through his bedroom like a song woven together from shared experiences and unspoken longings. 
“You feel so good, fuck, Tyler.” Her words left him chuckling, he kissed his way down her throat, finding the spots that made her arch her back while she tightened the grasp of her legs around his waist. Tyler was fully focused on making her cum first, needing to watch her fall over the edge while knowing that he was the reason for the sweet sensation she was about to get tangled up in. 
“Touch yourself, sweetheart, make yourself cum on my cock.” Tyler’s voice grew raspier and lower with every syllable he spoke. Both were staring at one another, wordlessly telling them that they were ready to let go any moment now. Her fingers moved fast, giving herself the needed push with his name bleeding from her lips.
Tyler found himself falling in love with (y/n) some more as she came, eyes taking in every inch of her pleasure drunken features. He gave it a few more thrusts before he came, letting go with a groan while (y/n) kept clinging to him. 
“Christ, you’re perfect.” He pressed another kiss to her lips before pulling out. And at that moment, Tyler knew that he’d have to confess his feelings soon. Not tonight, perhaps not tomorrow morning, but the love bleeding from the tip of his tongue like a crimson river would pave the way for their following time together soon enough.
424 notes · View notes
tiktaalic · 10 months ago
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catching fire dash simulator
finnicksgirl Follow
my streams have been cutting all season omfg what is going on
caps4finnick Follow
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cinnagirl3000 Follow
anybody heard from cinna lately?
plutarcheology Follow
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Plutarch Heavensbee circa 2282
revolutionarykatniss
As if it’s not ENOUGH that yall wanna fuck the most morally bankrupt man alive who is more than complicit because he gets paid to live in luxury to ORCHESTRATE the deaths of innocents so that they’re a spectacle and don’t have the option to die even semi peacefully. as if that’s not enough. You wanna fuck him when he’s ugly?
caesarflickerwoman Follow
anyone else still thinking about how caesar and peeta were kinda ..
czrflckmn
Aren’t you the one who had the week long meltdown about peeta being overfamiliar with him
caesarflickerwoman
Well you see I’m gay and a man now
theeclove Follow
already tired of this fucking season of everlark -_- idgaf about the fucking fog
siblingvictors
DISTRICT ONE GONNA SEND THEM A CANCELLATION NOTICE!! #CASHMEREGLOSS4EVER
czrflkmn Follow
everyone looooooves to act like NOTABLE cishet peeta is so gay w caesar as if his gay cohost isn't right there.... slaying in a wig..... sending yearning glances caesar's way right before the camera cuts......
johannadykeson Follow
tbh she’s got the WORST taste in allies idek why i continue to stan. girl MAGS?
#my girl going to get slorn :/
katnissgirlsmakedo
She is choosing with her HEART she chose to save peeta in the games REMEMBERRRRRRRR she’s literally a lovergirl to the core
#lovecore #heartcore #truelove
lucygraydotcom Follow
Caesar flickerman kidn if a laughing gnome. Reblog
finnickforever Follow
I’ve supported finnick through a lot and defended them and I’ve always been proud they're from my district but honestly they went way too far by doing the salute during the interview. I can only hope that they just got caught up in the moment with everyone else doing it and obviously it’s a stressful situation but I don’t think I can continue endorsing them. I’ll be changing my url this week.
divorceekatniss Follow
hey guys i know times are tough for everyone and the capital has really cracked down but my mutual @divorceepeeta got flogged the other day and could really use some help. v3nmo here. anything helps #signalboost #mockingjay
disabledmags Follow
Tbh the baby is the saddest thing I've ever heard </3
peetaspride
Another citizen falling for capital propaganda. It's so glaringly apparent that this is made up to draw in views. The tributes undergo extensive medical examination prior to the games. They would NEVER let a pregnant woman compete.
disabledmags
As if killing children has ever stopped them before?
#We all saw him fall to protect her stomach before they even started the victory tour #Is it that ridiculous to believe two newlyweds fresh out of a life or death situation would celebrate a little carelessly?
peetaspride
If you think even the marriage is real you're stupider than I thought. Peeta spends every interview begging us to see his truth. The capital is shamelessly silencing him and "the baby" is a distraction.
peetasbabymama Follow
URL CHANGE!! faggotpeeta->peetasbabymama
cupcakeeverlark
this isnt funny. peeta's a real person with real feelings. it will never be funny to call someone a f***** as a joke. how would you feel if my url was f*****peetasbabymama?
peetasbabymama
ok
district420
isnt cupcakeeverlark literally prez snow's 12 yr old granddaughter lol
tendinghiswounds
OOMF IS 12???????????
everlarklovechild
the age is the problem here?
marriedeverlark Follow
Canon url 🎉🎊💅😁🥰♥️
beeteemp3 Follow
New content of my favorite tribute 😁😁😁
3ffietrinket
Girl there’s a 96% chance they die ?
peenick Follow
getting reports from the presidential banquet that Peeta looks gay as fuck
3v3rlark Follow
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ik peeniss has been flagging w the rehearsed speeches but did anyone else see the way they looked at each other in the censored district 11 speech
rues-song
you’re STUPID she’s a capital pawn AND i fucked your mom while you were busy looking for illegal streams
senecacraneofficial Follow
rip seneca you were so babygirl </3
plutarchbaby69
so now you think we can’t fuck old men?
#this fandom is so ageist #this is prob what I get for blogging about thg tbh since # it’s literally about kids. Some of you ppl need to grow up
1K notes · View notes
covenofagatha · 1 month ago
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But you're my stepmom! (Part 1)
A year after your dad's divorce with your mom, he introduces you to his new wife, Agatha. And she just wants to get to know you better.
Word count: 1500+
Warnings: mentions of underage drinking, blood
Taglist: @stayevildarling
A/N: trying to make this more of a slowburn, but we'll see how long that lasts lol. Part 2 should be up by tonight hopefully
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“Are you sure your dad won’t mind?” Wanda asks hesitantly, a few steps behind you as you stop in front of the gate. 
You had gotten so bored in fifth period English that you had all but dragged your best friend to your car to skip the rest of the day. And now you were at your dad’s house, sneaking into the pool in his backyard. He lived in a house twenty minutes away from your high school and your mom’s house in hopes that you would come visit him often. You knew your dad wasn’t supposed to be home until late that night, so he would never find out that you had been there. 
Things with your dad hadn’t been great ever since you had been the one to find out he was having an affair two years ago with a woman that he worked with. You told your mom, who promptly filed for divorce, and then your dad got dumped by his side piece because she was tired of not being able to go public soon enough. The irony still makes you laugh. 
Almost a year after the divorce, he had sat you down and said: “Sweetie, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Enter Agatha Harkness, your dad’s new wife. The first thought that went through your mind when you first saw her was, is this woman blind? She was so far out of your dad’s league it wasn’t even funny. Your dad is a relatively short man, more gray than black hair at this point, with a square-shaped face. Meanwhile, Agatha was ethereal. Her piercing blue eyes always gave you the feeling that she knew something you didn’t, and her luscious dark hair was always shiny and cascading over her shoulders perfectly. 
And there was something about her long fingers and veiny hands that made you want to scream. 
You weren’t exactly sure how a woman like this had ended up with your dad, but out of spite for your dad and everything he had put your family through, you made it a point to stay as far away from her as possible. They had been married for about a year now and you can count on one hand the number of interactions you’ve had with her.
“Y/n?” Wanda brings you back to focus. Apparently you’ve just been standing in front of the gate. 
“He’s working late,” is all you say, sliding your key into the lock and swinging the gate open. Your mom may have dragged your dad through the ringer in the divorce, but he had bounced back alright. Or this was all Agatha’s money. 
“What about your stepmom?” 
You shrug. “No clue what she does. But there were no cars in the driveway so we’re probably fine.” You lead her into the backyard, throwing your school bag onto a chair and stripping off clothes. Before Wanda can say anything, you jump into the pool in only your bra and underwear. “Come in!” You shout happily, splashing water at your friend. 
Wanda finally lets go of her reservations and follows suit. The two of you splash around for what feels like forever, just enjoying the sun and each other’s company. You were so thankful for Wanda; she had been with you through everything and was truly the best friend you could’ve asked for. 
“Do you want something to drink?” you ask, after you guys have just been floating for a while. 
“Um, sure. Could I have some water?” 
“Yeah, I’ll be right back.” You get out of the pool, not even bothering to dry yourself off even a little, and enter the house through the sliding glass doors that your dad should really start locking. You pad through the hallway to the kitchen before filling a cup with water and grabbing two of the beers from the two packs on the shelf in the fridge. You doubt they’ll even notice. You shut the refrigerator door, whirl around to go back outside, and jump. The beer bottles and the cup of water you’re holding slip out of your grasp and smash onto the floor. 
Agatha Harkness is standing right there, watching you amusedly. “You’re soaking wet, darling.” The innuendo makes your stomach heat up ever so slightly. And then you realize what’s going on.  
“What are you doing here?” you ask, panic running through you. If she tells your dad–
“I could ask you the same thing. Shouldn’t you be at school? Can’t be skipping during your senior year.” Her eyes glide up and down your scantily clad body and you suddenly get the urge to wrap your arms around yourself. 
“I–”
“You’re bleeding, sweetheart. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You finally look down at the ground and see a mess of broken glass and alcohol. And blood, from your right leg. The pieces of the beer bottles must’ve cut you. 
“Oh, shit,” you say distractedly, watching the way the red streams down your leg and collects in a pool, mixing with the beer. 
“Come on, we can take care of this later,” Agatha says, helping you carefully step over the pile on the floor. She chews her lip while you watch her try to decide where to put you. You can’t lay on the white couch because you’re actively dripping with blood, and it’ll be too uncomfortable for both of you to have you stand. So you hop onto the counter top, staring at her expectantly. “That works,” Agatha agrees and grabs some paper towels. 
You stick your right leg out and she gently applies pressure with the paper towel, trying to stop the block. You then realize just how close the older woman is to you. She’s standing in-between your legs, her face only about half a foot away from yours. You can’t stop yourself from looking down at her lips. She glances at you and your eyes immediately dart up, but you don’t think it’s quick enough based on the knowing smirk that’s playing on her lips. You’re still practically naked and goosebumps are lining your skin, both from the cold and from her.
You clear your throat. “You’re not, uh, gonna tell my dad, are you?” You wince as she presses down harder on a cut. 
“What, that you skipped school, broke into our house, went swimming in our pool, and then was underage drinking?” Her grin is wolfish and you inwardly snarl. 
“Technically, I didn’t drink,” you point out. She raises an eyebrow at you. You slump down. “Please don’t tell him.” Your voice is soft, but pleading. She finally takes off the paper towel and assesses the damage to your leg. The cuts don’t look that deep. You doubt you’ll need stitches. 
“Let me get some bandaids and then we’ll talk.” She leaves the room and you quickly bolt outside, where Wanda is still lounging in the pool. 
“There you are!” she exclaims. 
“You gotta go,” you hiss urgently. “Agatha’s here and she already caught me but I don’t want you to get in trouble.” At the mention of your stepmom, Wanda jumps out of the pool, frantically throwing on her clothes. 
“I knew we shouldn’t have cut class!”
“It’s a bit too late for that now, Wanda.” You root around in your bag for your keys and thrust them into her hand. “Take my car and then I’ll call you when I need you to come pick me up.” 
“Are you sure?” 
“Yes, now go!” You usher her out the gate, sprinting back inside, the sliding glass door closing right as Agatha comes down the stairs. She’s holding a pack of bandaids.
“I’m guessing you also don’t want me to tell your father about your friend?” 
Fuck. “Agatha, please. You can tell him about me but please don’t mention Wanda.” 
She beckons you to follow her back to the counter and she silently smears neosporin over your cuts before bandaging them up. You ignore the way her hands feel on your leg. 
“I won’t tell your father,” she says finally. You breathe a sigh of relief and almost throw your arms around her. “If you clean up the mess you made in the kitchen, and if you let me take you out to dinner tonight.” 
Your brows furrow in confusion. You obviously get the cleaning up part. But the other part..? “Why dinner?”
Agatha smiles and pats your thighs, still close to you. “I want to get to know my step-daughter a little better, darling. And your dad has a dinner thing to go to, so I’m all alone. I won’t tell your dad about your little afternoon escape or dinner. It’ll be our little secret,” she says teasingly, winking at you. Your mouth runs dry. 
“Yeah, dinner sounds good. I need to run to my mom’s house and maybe change my clothes,” you say, also needing to get your car back and take Wanda back to school. You leave that part out though. Her hands, still on your thighs, travel up, closer to your center, and your breath quickens. And then she squeezes and steps back, you missing the warmth of her already. She offers you a hand and helps you get down from the counter. “Pick me up at 6?” you ask.
She smiles and nods. “It’s a date.” 
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doitforbangchan · 9 months ago
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Little Tease - Bangchan
This is a request by the lovely @softkisshyunjin who wanted Chan rizzing up stay and then getting teased my reader <3 I hope it's everything you hoped for my dear
This is soooo delulu, please do NOT do what reader does here :)
Masterlist
Not proofread :)
Idol!Chan x Fan!reader (afab)
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Warnings: Smut, protected p in v, kissing, fingering, masterbation, spitting in mouth, dom! chan, sub! reader, condescending! Chan, he is kind of a cocky jerk here lol
WC: 3k
MDNI 18+
He was an absolute menace. Chan knew exactly what he was doing, sending those messages out for Stay on bubble. You could imagine him kicking his feet like a schoolgirl while sending them out. You guessed it was his favorite pastime, considering every message got more and more teasing. Asking Stay to come over and he would send the address if they were to ask. And that he would even come to us. Yeah right. 
You figured why not try to tease him back? It wasn’t like he would even respond so what was the harm? You decided to send one yourself. 
‘Big talk for someone with no balls, Christopher. We all know you won’t show up.’ that had you cackling, wanting to send more, maybe make it a little flirty. 
‘Its a real shame too, I just know how you would throw me around if you were here.’ 
‘Oh well, guess I’ll have to take care of myself.’ 
That one made you feel a little bold. Before you stop your impulsive thoughts you sent him a picture of you in your bra and panties, and attached your address. Now it was you who was giggling like a schoolgirl. Even if he would never see them you still found it entertaining. It was the only chance you would ever get to tease him back, so who cares? 
It had been 4 days since the messages you sent back on bubble. Honestly you had forgotten it even happened, putting into the back of your mind since you knew nothing would come from it. You had assumed, anyway. 
It was a Friday night around 10:30  and you were just getting back home from a very disappointing first date. You had been set up through a mutual friend so you decided to give it a shot. Unfortunately he turned out to be like every other guy you had been out with recently; pompous and self absorbed. The guy only talked about how great he thought he was, and how any woman would be out of her mind not to fall at his feet. He gave you the ick right away, but you figured you would get free food out of it so whatever. 
You had just closed the door after letting yourself inside,  flipping on the light and barely able to get off your shoes when a knock on your door alarmed you. ‘Who would be at my door so late?’ With your heel in hand like a weapon you slowly creaked the door open just a smidge, keeping the chain locked. 
It was hard to see who it was, the man standing there had a black beanie and a face mask covering their mouth. 
“Are you Y/n?” They asked, voice sounding eerily familiar. 
“Depends who's asking?” You replied, with a touch of snark.
The stranger laughed quietly, again it sounded very familiar to you but you couldn’t place it. 
“Oh just someone who apparently has no balls.” 
Oh my fucking god no way. 
“C-chris?” Fuck why did you stutter 
“The one and only.” He pulled down his mask enough for you to see the bottom half of his face. 
“What are you doing here?” You were so shocked at seeing the idol, your bias no less, at your doorstep, but you still unlatched the chain on your door. 
Chris leaned against the door frame when you opened it wider, giving your body a quick look over, seeing you in your skimpy dress, then coming back to your eyes. “You told me too, even sent me your address.” He smirked at you when the realization dawned on your face. “Can I come in?” 
You hastily stepped aside to let him in. As if you would ever deny him. Chris stepped in and closed the door behind him, then secured the top lock. He glanced around the living room of your apartment, before his eyes found your nervous body standing before him and ringing your hands. 
You could barely breathe, having him so close, in your home no less, was the craziest thing to ever happen to you. So far. 
“Umm w-would you like a drink or something?” The nerves were still racking through you. 
“Sure. Thank you.” 
You nodded and scurried your way to your kitchen, pulling out a few options. Did he like wine? Or maybe he was a sparkling cider kind of guy? You were about to turn and ask him his preference when you felt a presence behind you, a breath on your neck. Not just any presence, it was Chris. 
“You know,” he began, “ that was quite a naughty thing to do. Sending those pics to a man you don’t know and attaching your address.” His fingers lightly brushed your hair away from the side of your neck and you felt him lean on closer. He could feel your breath catch in your throat at his actions. “And telling me I have no balls, if you weren’t so damn pretty I might have let that slide. Unfortunately I am not a strong enough man to resist a pretty little minx who needs to be put in her place.” His voice was getting raspier as he spoke. 
‘He called me pretty!’ The way you focused on that statement was unhealthy, the simple words filling you with a desire for this man you had never felt. Then the other half of his words caught up with you. 
“Put me in my place?” 
“Mmhmm.” Chris hummed and put his hands on your waist, quickly spinning you around to face him as he pushed you up against the counter in your kitchen. You let out a squeak at the sudden force. “Seeing you in those frilly little panties did something to me. I’ve never felt this ravenous for a fan before.  There is something special about you y/n. Will you let me show you?” He held a deep gaze on your eyes, asking for your consent. 
It was an easy answer, “Yes Chris of course.” 
As soon as you answered he put his lips directly on yours, a clash of teeth and spit. It felt like he was trying to consume you with the way he kissed you, tongue wasting no time before shoving itself into your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, needing to be closer. This felt like a fever dream, but you weren't one to look a gift horse in the mouth so you would let him take all he wanted from you. 
Chris tightened his grip on your hips and lifted you to sit on the counter that was behind you. His hands were warm as they ran up your thighs, slipping under your dress. You let out a quiet whimper when he made contact. He was so close yet not close enough. 
“Don’t be shy, now. You weren’t shy when you sent me those pics huh? What happened to that girl?” He pulled back enough to smirk at you, giving a bite to your lip as he went. You couldn’t find your words, too enthralled by him to form a sentence. At your silence he tutted in mock disappointment and let his mouth fall to your neck, mouthing at the skin there and laughing when you moaned. “Tell me sweet thing, why did you tease me like that?” 
“I-i didn’t think you would see it.” you squealed when he nipped at your neck. “ You w-were being the tease, Chris.” 
“You’re right, baby, I was being mean wasn't I?” He let his fingers find the side seams on your panties, hooking his thumbs under the fabric. “I was riling up my poor stays, they don’t deserve that, do they?” He was cooing at you, almost making fun of you.
 Had this been any other man you wouldn’t have taken his menial words and demeanor. But this wasn’t any other guy, this was Bangchan. This was the man you’ve thirsted after for years.Someone you thought would never even know you existed. And for some reason you didn’t mind the way he talked to you. If anything it felt good. Felt like you were letting go of your inhibitions and letting this man, who obviously you don’t know- but it almost felt like you did know him. You had been following his group and him for so long. 
“No, t-they didn’t deserve i-it.” You could not stop stuttering, nor could you catch your breath. 
“Should I atone for that, sweetheart?” His thumbs were slowly pulling down your underwear, so slowly you almost didn’t register it at all. “Should I make up for it right now, with you? With my precious stay?” 
Once your panties were slipped down enough that they dropped off onto the floor, he paused his movements as if waiting for an answer. It took you a moment to gather yourself enough to answer. 
“Yes, please use me to make it up. Please, Channie.” 
That seemed to set him off, his fingers going to your core and finding your clit with ease. You let out a whimper at the contact, hips raising to get even closer. You could feel his mouth back on your neck, sucking the skin and surely leaving hickeys. Reminders that this is real. 
Chris hummed into you as he let the digits find your opening and flick up and down, sloshing through your wetness. You couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed though. “Do you want my fingers, sweetheart?” He still had that condescending tone, knowing damn well you wanted them. He just wanted to hear you say it. There had always been speculation that Chan was a dominant guy in bed, at least now you could confirm that for yourself. 
“Mmhmm please.” you nodded rapidly. 
He wasted no time in pushing his two fingers into your heat, the thickness of them stretching your walls. You let out a throaty moan, the intrusion feeling delicious. So good it almost made you forget this was all happening on your kitchen counter. Almost. 
“Chris.” you panted, trying to get his attention by tapping on the shoulders you were gripping. 
“Hm?” he mumbled while pistoning his fingers inside you, adding another one as he made the sound. 
You were nervous to ask, but figured it was worth a try. “Can- can we maybe take this to my bedroom?” 
He hummed as if thinking about it, then without a word, he scooped you up into his arms. You pointed in the direction of your room and the man headed that way without a struggle. He didn’t even seem to be straining while holding you, his strength coming in clutch. 
Chris went through the door you pointed to and unceremoniously dropped you on your bed. The sight of you; panting and glassy eyed, dress riding up your hips to expose your cunt to him, made him harder than he cared to admit- the tightness in his pants becoming too much to ignore. 
You really were an exquisite beauty. He knew the second he laid eyes on your form in that picture you sent that he would somehow have to find his way here to you. He would never admit it but the thought had been plaguing him for days. Fuck, the man flew across the world for this. Luckily it hadn’t been in vain, as you seemed to want him as much as he wants you. 
Chris’s gaze felt scrutinizing, as if every twitch you emitted was being memorized by him. Little did you know it was exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t one to fuck around with fans (he left that for Hyunjin and Jeongin) but he was enjoying himself and wanted to commit this to his memory. 
“Tell me, sweetheart,” He drawled out as his hand went to the tent that was present in his pants, “Am I your bias? Have you thought about me like this before?” You couldn’t meet his stare, giving yourself away to him without having to say anything. “Hmm I am huh? I would have thought with the way you act online maybe you would have preferred maybe Lee Know to be here making a mess of you. Or even Seungmin.” You rapidly shook your head in protest to his words. “No? So you don’t want me to leave you here and call one of my boys to come help you instead?” 
He was being patronizing but you still answered earnestly “No please! Only want you!” You don’t know what you would do if he left right now, you were so needy for him you had started to cry. 
“You only want me?” He pointed to himself, grinning when you nodded. “Prove it. Show me what you do to yourself when you think of me.” 
His stare was menacing, almost challenging. He wanted to see if you would follow his orders. You looked like a deer caught in the headlights, scared and frozen. Chris wondered if maybe he was taking it too far with you, but was mistaken when you laid flat on your bed and your fingers nervously trailed down your exposed thighs and to your wet entrance. 
You both let out a whimper when your fingers entered your hole, the slick sounds resonating in the room. If this is what he wanted you weren't going to deny him. Chris stood over you while you played with yourself, his own palm rubbing himself through his underwear, he had pulled his sweats down enough to rub over the opposing fabric. 
He lost it when you whined his name, unable to contain his urges any longer. He shoved his boxers down his legs and let them along with his sweats fall to the floor, before he pounced on you. You gasped as Chris caged you under him and ripped your fingers out of yourself. “Chris?!” 
“You really are a fucking tease arent you?” He went to line himself up before his senses came back to him. “You got a condom, pretty girl?” 
“In th-the bedside t-table.” You pointed to the table beside you. 
Chris reached into the drawer and pulled out an unopened box of condoms, giving you a raised eyebrow. “It’s been a while.” You shrugged sheepishly. 
He chuckled and pulled one out of the box, ripping it open with his teeth and rolling along his hardened length. “Think you can take all this, baby girl?” there was that cocky attitude you were growing to love. 
“Please. Want it Channie.” 
That was the go ahead he needed, lining up to your entrance and pushing into your heat slowly. 
“Fuuuck.” He groaned out while you cried against him. He was breathing heavy, you were so tight he was suffocating within you.It didn’t help that he was the biggest you had ever taken. If you hadn’t been so wet the stretch of him would have been painful for you. But instead it was delectable, a welcome burn. 
When you bucked your hips up into him he took that as his hint to move, and he began a punishing pace. His own hips meet yours as you thrust into the air. You could feel his balls slapping against your ass, you’re arousal coating them and adding to the filthy sounds resonating in your room. It all sounded so wet. 
When you opened your mouth to let out a high pitched moan Chan took the opportunity to grip onto your cheeks, keeping your mouth open for him as he spat directly on your tongue. “Be the good girl I know you can be and swallow it. Swallow my essence, sweetheart.” You did so with no hesitation, opening your lips to show him. “Nnggg so fucking good for me, for your bias.” 
His words alone could make you cum, already feeling yourself on the edge from all the playing he did with you. You clenched on him at the praise he gave you, causing him to groan again and drop his face into your chest, suckling your skin harshly. He wanted you to remember him after he is gone. 
Or maybe he would keep you. 
It sure was tempting to keep a sweet girl with such a sweet pussy. He could even share you with the other boys, he is sure they would love a taste of you once he tells them about you.
“Channie…. ‘M close.” 
Chris nipped your skin once before bringing his fingers down to where you were connected, finding your clit and massaging roughly. “Come on, little tease. Give it to me. Make me proud and cum.” 
At his instruction you fell over the edge, cumming with a deafening cry of his name. Chris wasn’t far behind you, the clenching on his cock sending him to orgasm. You writhed under him as you felt the warmth of his cum filling you up,albeit inside the condom he wore.
Chris pumped himself within you once, twice and a final third time as he rode out his high. After your quaking was over he slowly pulled out of you, both too sensitive for anything else. The idol pressed a final kiss to your mouth before removing himself from you completely. He wandered over to the trash can you had in the corner of your room and disposed of the rubber. 
You laid there on your bed completely fucked out, mind in a haze as you watched him pull his boxers back on. He turned to you with a boyish grin. 
“So tell me you little tease, who has no balls now?” 
Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!
©doitforbangchan
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lipglossanon · 2 years ago
Text
They Were Roommates
୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆
Roommate!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader
For the anon who asked for roommate Leon! 💜 I hope I did it justice 😬 🫣 this is pretty much just smut not much lead up 🫣
Warnings: 18+ minors DNI, masturbation, voyeurism, dirty talk, unprotected sex, slight oral, cum swallowing, uhh I think that’s all lol
Not proofread (you know me 💁‍♀️ lmao)
Title pulled from a vine! It’s one of my faves lmao 🤣 ୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆*。୭̥⋆
“What do you mean you didn’t put in the ad?”
You know your voice is pitching higher, but this couldn’t get any worse. The guy at least has the good grace to look apologetic. 
He rubs the back of his head, “Yeah, I guess my old roommate put that out but he ended up moving instead of me. He never told me he even made an ad, so I’m really sorry about that.”
Frustrated tears prick your eyes but you ignore them.
“So there’s no room to rent? This is literally my last resort before sleeping out in my car.”
He looks at your earnest face and the bags at your feet. You watch as his blue eyes dart back into the apartment and he frowns. 
“Well, do you have any references?” He finally sighs, “if you’ll give me their numbers, I’ll call them and if everything’s kosher I’ll let you rent the room.”
“Really?” Your smile lights up your whole face, “yes, I have some printed out. You’d really be doing me a favor.”
He blushes as you hand him the reference paper in question, looking down at it then back up at you, “I just don’t feel comfortable letting you go without somewhere to stay.”
“Thanks, that’s really nice of you,” you nod your head at the paper, “I’ll chill out here until you’re finished with that.”
“No,” he shakes his head, opening the door wider, “you can at least sit in the living room. I’ll make these calls and we can go from there.”
And that’s how your first meeting with Leon S. Kennedy, your current roommate, went.  So after months of living together, getting used to each other’s schedules and eating habits, you fall into a really nice and comfortable pattern. Leon is tidy and polite, but also kinda dorky and sweet. 
You find yourself excited to come home after a long, grueling day at the office. Leon works in law enforcement so sometimes he’s working opposite hours from yourself; this week, however, your schedules are synced and it’s Friday night which means movies and pizza. Even better is you got to leave work early, a rare occurrence that you won’t take for granted!
Opening the front door, you drop your keys back in your bag and sing out, “Honey, I’m home!”
You hear a muffled thud from the living room, making you pause in the entryway—door half shut behind you. 
“Leon?” you call out hesitantly. 
Hearing no answer, you quietly set your bag down and slowly inch your way further in the apartment. You peek around the wall into the living room and hold in a gasp. 
Leon is practically naked, the only thing covering his modesty is the flimsy boxers he has on—doing nothing to disguise the fact his dick’s hard. 
You notice a box of tissues tipped over in the floor along with lube which must be what caused the noise. Covering your mouth with your hand, you can’t pull your eyes away from the scene in front of you. 
Leon has his phone in hand, headphones connected, as he splays out lazily on the couch. His thighs are spread wide, taking up as much space as possible. You can see his other hand slide underneath the band of his underwear and jerk himself off in his boxers. 
“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes glued to his phone, hand picking up speed. 
He rests his head on the back of the couch for a moment then pulls his cock completely out of his boxers. You have to swallow down a whine as you see how big and thick Leon’s cock is, throbbing in his hand as he pulls the foreskin down to show off the fat, oozing tip. You rub your thighs together to ease the ache in your clit.
Leon groans low in his throat and slowly strokes his cock, teasing his fingertips across the head.  He fingers the slit, precum oozing out and coating his fingers making them sticky. He sets his phone on the couch so he can keep watching but use both hands on himself. 
He pants and keeps slowly teasing himself with slow, light touches using one hand on his cock as the other gently rolls and tugs his balls. Your mouth waters at the thought of walking the rest of the way into the room and getting on your knees in front of him. As you watch Leon, slick drips from your pussy and fills your panties, making them wet and clingy. 
Leon tosses his head back with a low moan. He humps up into his hand as he fucks his fist in short steady strokes. Pausing, he reaches down for the lube and coats his hand in the clear, shiny liquid. He brings his coated palm back to his dick and moans as he jerks himself off more easily. 
“So wet,” he whispers to himself, “being so good for me, huh.”
You feel shameful arousal curling in your belly as you watch Leon in a private, intimate, moment; but you can’t help ask why he’d do this in the living room? You know you’re home early, but—
Wait, your eyes widen as your brain whirs with thoughts— is this even the first time? You bite your lip to stop yourself from whining. God, how many times has Leon jerked off in the living room while you weren’t here? Or even when you were??
“So good,” Leon’s voice rumbles, “suck that cock, baby, fuck.”
His hips slowly thrust up as his hand tightens around the thick shaft, “You’ve got such a pretty fucking mouth, sweetheart.”
Those words make you dizzy with arousal, a hot surge flooding your body so quickly it feels like you’re going to pass out. You rub your thighs together and can feel yourself starting to leak through your panties. 
Leon starts to fist his cock more roughly, precum and lube oozing over his knuckles. 
He groans, voice gravelly, “Can barely fit me in your mouth, baby.”
He bucks his hips up hard, “God, can even see how far you get cause of that ring of lipstick around my cock.”
You bite into the meat of your palm to curb any sounds, not wanting to get caught. You swallow thickly at the thought of getting caught while watching Leon get off. Maybe he’d want to see how far your mouth would fit around him. Leave your own sheen of strawberry lipgloss around his fat length. You rub your thighs together again, feeling more turned on than ever before in your life.  
Leon groans, pulling your attention back to him away from your own thoughts. One of his hands is still tugging his heavy looking balls while the other keeps a tight tunnel formed around his cock. 
You really want to touch yourself, but it’s hotter to just watch Leon. You can always get off later, remembering this moment.
Your wide eyes continue to watch as the leaky tip of Leon’s dick peeks out of his fist on every stroke—teasing you with the promise of hot cum on your tongue if you only dared enough to go in there for a taste. 
He quickly jerks himself harder, sounds of shlick shlick shlick filling the air. Leon starts humping up into his slick fist, growling in satisfaction as he rolls his hips just right.
“Fuck, you take it so well, baby. A tight little throat just for me.”
Your nipples tighten under your bra, clit throbbing with need. You’re so wet, you can feel it leaking down your thighs now. Torn between wanting to leave to touch yourself or watch Leon finish, you ultimately want to see him come undone. 
“Gonna cum all over that cute face, sweetheart,” Leon moans out, thrusting his hips harder as his hand strokes faster. 
Leon’s head lolls back on the couch, eyes closed as he strokes himself faster to completion.
“Yes, fuck,” he groans, low and deep, as ropes of cum spurt across his abs and chest, coating himself in white sticky strands. 
Your pussy flutters, aching and throbbing— needing something in your wet hole. Eyes darting up to his blissed out expression, his own eyes thankfully closed, you quietly tiptoe backwards to the front door. 
You pick your bag up off of the floor and pull the half open door completely open and walk out. You softly shut the door and lean back against it, blowing out a harsh breath.
You really don’t know how you’re going to react when you look Leon in the face, but I guess that’s just something you’ll wing when you get to it. 
Giving yourself several minutes to calm down, you finally re enter the apartment acting like it’s the first time. 
“Heey I’m home!” You yell, a little louder than usual, but you really hope Leon hears you this time. 
“Oh uh, hey,” you hear Leon call back, voice nervous, “you’re home early.”
“Yep!” you take more time than usual to close and lock the door behind you, dropping your bag in the floor near the coatrack. 
“Cool, I haven’t ordered the pizza if you wanna go ahead. I’m actually gonna grab a quick shower,” you can hear his voice get further away as he walks deeper into the apartment. 
You listen for the bathroom door to shut and once your hear it, you let out a relieved sigh. Opening up your phone, you just order the usual Friday night spiel and walk to your bedroom. 
Once inside, you close and lock the door. You shed your clothes like they’re on fire and quickly climb into your bed. This isn’t your usual way of doing things, but your brain is a little too fried to think outside of the image of Leon’s thick cock. 
You grab a pillow you only use as decoration and swing a leg over it as you kneel on top of it. Rocking your hips down, your clit grinds against the fabric and makes you whimper. Slick is steadily dripping from your needy hole as you hump your pillow, imagining Leon in its place. 
Using one hand to keep the pillow steady, your other hand comes up to tease and pinch at your nipples, shooting bolts of pleasure straight to your clit making you cry out softly. 
“Leon,” you whimper, rolling your nipples between your fingers. 
You rock against the pillow faster, already so close just from watching Leon earlier, dragging your wet sensitive clit over and over the coarse pillowcase. 
“God, ‘m gonna cum,” you whine out loud, eyelashes kissing your cheeks as your hips stutter and grind down, cumming so quickly it makes your thighs spasm. 
Slick covers your pillow as you shakily let your hips drop down to sit. Your clit pulses with aftershocks while you pant to catch your breath. 
“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself, flopping down onto your bed and pushing your used pillow into the floor. 
Your phone dings and you lazily grab it from your nightstand and look at the notification, reading that the pizza delivery is on its way. 
Pushing yourself up, you get out of bed and go to throw on some ratty pajamas when you pause. 
You pull out a sleeker, prettier matching pj set—a thin teasing top with matching  shorts. Deciding to try your luck, you put them on and give yourself a once over in the mirror. You fluff your hair and apply a quick layer of gloss on your lips, puckering them at the mirror before grinning at yourself. 
Spinning around, you make your way out of your room and into the shared living space hoping to, subtly, grab Leon’s attention as you hang out for the night. 
It works or at least maybe it does—it could be you’re looking too much into things; frowning to yourself, you shake your head and go back to relaxing on the couch. The pizza’s long since gone and now you’ve been chilling in the living room, watching b-rate horror flicks and chatting. You at least think Leon has been looking at you when you weren’t paying attention, but it’s hard to say when you’re not paying attention.  
You sigh out loud and cross your legs. 
“Something the matter?”
You start and turn to Leon with a sheepish smile, “Yeah just thinking.”
He squints his eyes at you, “Mmhmm.”
You laugh this time and kick out your foot to push his knee with your toes, “Fuck off, it’s nothing important.”
He grabs your foot and presses his thumb in the arch making you suck in a sharp breath. 
“You’ve been on your feet all day, haven’t you?” he asks, eyes looking down to his hands now rubbing your foot. 
You feel like melting into the couch cushions, a hot coil of want slowly unraveling in your belly. 
“Yeah,” you say quietly, “was a long day.”
His brow pinches as he looks back up to you, “Did you talk to your boss about—“
You groan and flop back into the couch arm, kicking your other foot up into Leon’s lap, “Yes, mom. I talked to him and he said until we can hire a replacement, that we’re all just gonna have to ‘do our best for the team’.”
You roll your eyes and grumble, “Like he even does anything more than clock in.”
Leon grabs your other foot and traces along the arch, “I can go talk to’em if you need me to.”
Your smile spreads across your face, “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’re so sweet, Leon.”
His blue eyes drag up from your legs and skimpy sleep shorts, across your body with the nearly sheer top, to look up into your face, “You need someone to take care of you from the sounds of it.”
You gasp out loud at that and Leon wraps his hands around your calves, yanking you down the couch til your ass lands in his lap. 
“Hoping I would notice your slutty little getup, honey?” his smoky voice murmurs in your ear, snapping the band of your shorts, “trying to show me what I’m missing out on, huh?”
Your head spins from the complete 180 Leon is pulling, but you feel a thrill run down your spine.
“Just wanted to feel pretty,” you say, feeling hot all over, hands plucking at the hem of his shirt. 
“So pretty, baby,” he affirms, hands running up your calves to your splayed thighs, thumbs softy grazing your skin. 
His hands slide from your thighs, up your hips to pet at your sides. 
“Heard you get off earlier too, honey,” he whispers hotly in your ear, “walls are thinner than you think.”
You lean back to look him in the eye, “B-but how? I thought you were in the shower.”
He grins at you, “I forgot something so I stepped out to grab it. Not like it’s the first time hearing you anyway.”
Embarrassment makes you squirm on his lap, ducking your head down, “I didn’t know.”
“Sure, baby,” he kisses your jaw, fingers dipping below the band of your shorts and panties, fingers finding your leaking hole and slowly sinking into your pussy. 
“Leon!” You cry out, spine arching until your chest is pressed against him. 
“How d’you think I don’t hear you?” He rumbles, making your nipples stiffen in your shirt, “stuffing your fingers in that needy fucking cunt night after night.”
You gasp, hips rocking down into his fingers, pussy clenching around the digits. 
“M sorry,” you hiccup, eyes watering, “I’ll do better.”
“Yeah you will,” he rubs his thumb across your swollen clit, “cause I’m gonna start giving this little pussy what she needs, whenever and wherever I want. Sound good?”
“Leon,” you whimper, hands grabbing at his forearms, tendons flexing as he keeps finger fucking you on the couch. 
“Seems like every night, I’m in my room stripping my cock raw from those hot breathy moans you make,” he murmurs in your ear, low and smoky, “wore my fleshlight out the first month you moved in, baby.”
Your eyes rolls back as slick leaks from your pussy all over his hand. 
“Like that huh,” he laughs, tongue dipping in your ear before he places a wet kiss on the shell, “s’true, never made such a mess til you moved in, always fucking into that fake pussy thinking of yours.”
You moan high in your throat, “Leon, please, want you so much.”
“Yeah? Y’sure? Don’t want me using my toy, want me in this needy cunt?”
“Yes, yes,” you grind your hips down harder, his fingers stretching your hole open, “want it so bad.”
You whine and tug at his wrist til he finally slides his fingers out of your drenched pussy.
“Gonna give it to you sweetheart,” he promises you, eyes heated and dark, “gonna fuck you open right here, and then I’m gonna bend you over that kitchen counter and eat your pretty pussy til you cry for me.”
“Leon!” You gasp wantonly, “in me please. Wanna feel you.”
He pulls out his hard cock, smacking the head against your clit, making your hips jump. 
“Sit on me, want you to ride me baby,” he grins, guiding his dick into your drippy hole but not pressing in any further. 
You whimper and rock your hips, easing down his thick cock inch by inch until you’re sitting flush against him. He’s so deep in your pussy, it feels like he’s in your throat. You moan as he grinds up into you, fingers pinching and tugging at your hard nipples. 
“Mmm just like that baby, feel so much better than that plastic pussy,” he groans, twisting your nipples until you’re whining, “god, love the sounds you make.”
Pulling his hands away, he slaps across your breasts making your back arch your chest towards him. 
“Leon,” you mewl, tears slipping from your eyes because of the sting.
“I know,” he soothes, slapping across your tits again, “feels good doesn’t it, baby?”
You dig your nails into his big biceps, bouncing down in his lap to stuff his cock repeatedly into your hole. 
He slaps across each hard nipple until they’re puffy and swollen. You moan and hump down on him harder, the pain bleeding into pleasure and making you even wetter. One hand dips between your bodies to softly rub across your clit; he drags his fingers lower to stroke your pussy lips, getting his fingertips wet and dragging them back up to circle around your swollen bud. 
“Greedy little thing aren’t ya, honey?” he laughs deep in his chest, “c’mon ride me a little harder, baby.”
He moves both of his hands down to grab the fat of your ass and fuck up harder into your clenching pussy. 
“Leon,” you moan, fingers digging into the tense muscles on his shoulders, “gonna cum.”
“Already?” he scoffs, “pretty easy cunt ya got here then, sweetheart.”
You cry out, the sound of skin slapping and your pussy squelching from his rapid thrusts are so loud in the small living room, making your walls flutter and clamp down on his pistoning cock. 
“Wanna cum,” you sloppily kiss down Leon’s jaw to his neck, sucking a bruise into his skin, “want you to cum with me.”
Leon groans, sounding pained, “Sure, honey. Where do you want it?”
“My mouth,” you pant out quickly, “cum in my mouth, please.”
“Fuck,” he laughs choppily, “okay then sweetheart. I’ll cream your little throat.”
You whine and rock your hips down faster, “Yes, yes, Leon, so good.”
One hand moves to your hip to help you keep up a quick rhythm and the other goes back to rubbing and flicking your sensitive clit. 
“C’mon, honey, cum on my cock so I can fill that pretty mouth,” he smirks and shakes the hair out of his face, “you can do it, be a good girl and cum for me.”
Leon bottoms out in your pussy and just grinds against your g-spot as he teases and pinches your clit; your thighs lock up as your orgasm washes over you, pussy clamping down and milking his cock, clit throbbing under his thumb as he keeps up the slow steady circles on the sensitive nerves. 
“Good girl, good girl just for me,” he noses your hairline, feeling your body shake as he overstims your clit, “get in the floor, honey, ‘m ready for you to swallow this load.”
You moan and arch up, begrudgingly pulling yourself off of his dick so you can kneel between his thighs on the floor. 
“Want it, Leon,” your glazed eyes peer up at him, watching as he fists his cock in front of your mouth. 
“Oh you’re gonna get it, baby,” he grunts, “open that fucking mouth.”
You part you lips and loll your tongue out, whining when you feel hot spurts of jizz land on your tongue and lips. 
“Fuck that’s it,” he groans, watching you with sea dark eyes, hand slowly stroking his dick, feeding each spurt of cum into your open, eager mouth. 
You moan, the sound garbled from the cum pooling on your tongue and sliding down your throat. 
With one last groan, he lets go of his twitching cock. You watch as it droops, a drop of cum beading on the fat tip making you duck froward to lap at the head. 
“Baby,” he hisses, “a little early for me to go again,” he laughs and rubs his thumb across your bottom lip. 
Your tongue darts out to lap at his thumb, “S’good though?”
“The best, sweetheart,” he leans down to pull you up in his lap, “can’t wait to taste you later.”
You sigh, eyes drooping in pleasure. Guess that pajama set really did work out in your favor. 
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nurse-floyd · 6 months ago
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Broken Promises
Anon request: "Max x Leclerc reader . In which its readers bday and it’s her bday party and charles doesn’t show up for the 3rd year after like promising he would for sure show up and she doesn’t like even want a bday anymore. I swear i don’t hate charles LOL."
Summary: It’s your birthday, and once again, your brother Charles has fails to show up despite his promise.
Max Verstappen x Leclerc!reader
Warnings: none. Poor use of Google Translate for language.
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You’d planned everything perfectly and exactly how you’d wanted. The decorations were perfect, and you had streamers, balloons, and fairy lights hung around your spacious living room. Max had helped, getting caterers in and the best birthday cake you could ask for.
However, your excitement quickly turned to disappointment as your phone lit up with a text from your older brother, Charles.
Charlie: Sœurette… I’m sorry, I cannot make the party. I promise I’ll make it up to you.
You threw the phone down angrily on the counter, not caring if the screen was broken or not. You cursed a few words in French as you let out your frustration.
“Tête de bite! Stupide imbécile!” you screamed.
Max came running as he heard the loud bang followed by your shouting.
“He promised, Max! He said he’d be here. He missed my last two fucking birthdays!”
Max stood there, letting you let out your anger but also feeling his own anger bubbling inside. Charles had promised; he was there when you were excitedly bouncing as you told Charles about the music, the decorations, and the food—how excited you were to celebrate with your whole family again when no one had races or interviews or promotions to film.
“I know, schatje… I’m sorry,” he comforted as he pulled you into his arms. He knew how excited you’d been and how much it meant for all your older brothers to be there.
You pulled away and wiped your tears as you tried to put on a brave face, tried to push through your emotions and finish setting up the place for your guests. Arthur and Lorenzo were still coming, and you just wanted Charles to be there for once. He’d missed the last two years, and he’d promised he’d be there this time.
As your guests arrived, you kissed their cheeks, hugged them, and took pictures, but your heart just wasn’t in it. The party was in full swing with music, food, and enjoyment, but you felt like an outsider in your own house. You watched as everyone else danced, laughed, and had fun, but you just couldn’t feel that joy yourself. You knew it was stupid, but you sat in the corner and watched the door, hoping it was just a joke your brothers were playing on you, hoping with everything that he’d walk through the door with that goofy smile and pull you into one of his hugs that you loved so much. But the door stayed closed, and your brother never came.
Max mingled with your guests and his friends, but he saw the way your smile didn’t quite reach your eyes, how withdrawn you were, and how you kept checking your phone for any updates from your brother. He came to your side and took the seat next to yours, putting his arm around you as he pulled you into his side. “Are you okay?”
You sighed, determined not to let the tears that had been threatening to spill over fall. “I just don’t get it, Max. Why does he keep making promises he can’t keep? He hasn’t come to my last three birthdays now. Do I not matter to him?”
Max’s grip tightened around you. “I’m sorry, liefde. I know it hurts, but your birthday does matter, and so do you. You matter to me and to all the people here tonight.”
You buried your face in his shoulder as the tears you’d tried to keep in all night started to fall. “I don’t even want a birthday anymore. It hurts too much.”
Max gently shifted, lifting your chin slightly so he could look at you. “Don’t say that. Today is your day, and I’m going to make it special. Your brother might not be here, but I am, and so are your friends. Let’s not let him ruin another birthday, hmm?”
You nodded, knowing he was right and so grateful for the support. You sniffed and wiped away your tears. “Okay… but I don’t feel like being around everyone right now. Can we go for a walk? Get some fresh air?”
Max smiled and got up, holding his hand out for you. “Sure. Let’s go.”
You sent a text to Arthur to come up with an excuse in case anyone noticed you and Max were gone before you both managed to quietly slip out of the house. The cool air of the evening was a welcome relief from the crowded apartment. You and Max walked in a comforting silence, your hand in his as the lights of the city twinkled around you.
Max led you to a little bench on the beachfront and sat down, gesturing for you to join him. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and pulled you in close once more. You closed your eyes, just enjoying the moment with you and him alone.
“You know, I hated my birthday too when I was younger. There was so much pressure to make it the perfect day, and it never was, and my dad wasn’t exactly parent of the year when it came to birthdays; he missed more than I can count.”
“You shouldn’t have had to go through that, Max,” you leaned in closer to him.
“Now I’m older, all that matters is I get to celebrate another year of life and I’ve got you by my side.”
“You’re right. It’s just hard when someone you love lets you down.”
“I know,” Max replied as he pressed a kiss to your temple, “but you’re not alone. You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere; no more broken promises.”
A smile tugged at your lips. “Thanks, Max, for everything. Sorry I ruined the party.”
“Shut up,” he grinned playfully. “You’ve not ruined anything. Besides, you saved me from your brothers. Anyway, I didn’t get to give you your present yet.”
You leaned away from him, your curiosity piqued. “What present?”
He reached into the pocket of the Red Bull jacket he’d thrown on before he left and pulled out a sleek black box, beautifully wrapped with a silver bow. “Happy birthday, schat.”
You took the box and carefully unwrapped it to reveal a rose gold necklace with four pendants, each with a letter on it: an M, J, S, and your initial.
“Now you can always carry us with you. You’ll always have me, Jimmy, and Sassy, and there’s room to add more,” he explained.
“It’s beautiful. Thank you,” you whispered, your voice laced with emotion.
You turned around and let him fasten it around your neck before turning back and leaning in to kiss him. “Thank you, love, for making today special despite everything.”
“Anything for you, schatje. Happy birthday.”
Although you knew you couldn’t get over your disappointment with Charles that easily, sitting there with Max, you knew that it didn’t matter who wasn’t there but who was, and with Max by your side, you’d be okay.
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chukys-mouthguard · 2 months ago
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what are the odds? - pt. 1
matt rempe x female reader; featuring several side people (francesca kreider, alley rempe, ty bauer, etc.)
social media au!
part two - coming soon!
your.name.here
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liked by mattrempe, francesca.kreider, chris.kreider, and 99,394 others
your.name.here it’s all fun and games until the strap of your dress breaks mid dice roll
francesca.kreider not sure what was more impressive, your reflexes to catch the dress or the fact catering fixed it for you lol
-> your.name.here i seriously was prepared to give that woman everything i own as a thank you 😭
chris.kreider your dress breaking is hands down the best thing in rangers casino night history
-> your.name.here yeah i know, you guys are never letting me live that down 🤦🏼‍♀️
user194749 screaming, crying, throwing up at how beautiful you look
user182949 😍😍😍
user103883 is she dating a rangers player???
-> user39587 she’s best friends with the Kreider’s and donates a lot to the Ranger’s charities!
mattrempe still can’t convince me the dress “breaking” wasn’t planned because you were too shy to stick around
-> your.name.here do you know the price tag on this dress?! I’d never break it on purpose 🥹😭
-> mattrempe I’ll happily buy you a new one
liked by your.name.here and francesca.kreider
user29348 wait…Rempe??? 👀 anyone else seeing this?
-> user10379 boy is being bold!
-> user19389 i feel like we would’ve seen pics of them together if this is legit…
-> user10379 maybe he will post something?
nyrangers thanks for coming out! 💙❤️
liked by your.name.here
addison.clark waiting for you to submit your WAGs application already 🥵
-> your.name.here submitted, pending approval 🤭
-> francesca.kreider who can we ask to speed up that process???
mattrempe
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liked by your.name.here, alleyrempe, tybauer_, and 104,204 others
mattrempe biggest go fish tournament I’ve ever seen
alleyrempe can you even spell blackjack?
-> mattrempe can you count my winning chips for me? 🤑
alleyrempe will you please punch him for me your.name.here 🙄
-> your.name.here consider him punched
liked by alleyrempe
-> mattrempe alley is rubbing off on you and i don’t like it ☹️
-> your.name.here I’ll make it up to you don’t worry
your.name.here dealer, I’m all in on blue 73 🤞🏼
liked by mattrempe
-> mattrempe i call your bluff 😎
-> addison.clark can confirm she’s not bluffing
-> your.name.here shhh, can’t be exposing my hand 🙊
user52408 i can’t figure out if they are just joking with all the puns or…
-> user29487 there’s literally nothing online about her and rempe being together
user13992 alley stays roasting matt in his comments 😂
liked by alleyrempe
user20349 so no one else is gonna notice the comments with him and your.name.here ?
-> user69667 hard not to notice it
-> user13045 there’s literally no photos of them together…this is the first they’ve ever commented on each other’s stuff. Chill y’all…
tybauer_ matthew, the snapback to a formal event ? 🤦🏻‍♂️
-> mattrempe don’t worry, it was confiscated at the door 🫠
nyrangers official rangers go fish champ ‘24 💪🏼
liked by mattrempe
user29495 alley is friends with your.name.here?? So are her and rempe a thing??
-> user34387 we will probably never know for sure, unless it’s from them directly
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