#GUESS WHOS 18 AND HAS A JOB AND OTHER ADULT THINGS

[astralcurses]

sup

im gonna go make the entire post in the tags. like a true tumblr user.

[tinylittlebab]

hmm.

[writingroom21]

The Nanny

Pairing: rafe x nanny reader

Summary: Being Wheezie's nanny was great. The only downside is dealing with the oldest Cameron, Rafe. What happens when his fascination with the nanny becomes a reality?

Warnings: 18+, oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sex (Practice safe sex), cream pie, slapping, chocking, squirting, use of daddy

Wc: 5.3K

Chapter 3: Guess we're both broken

Waking up the next morning, you tossed over to the otherside, noticing the sheets were cold. Peaking through sleep coated eyes you realize that Rafe is gone. Sitting Up you look around the room, his shirt and shorts gone as well. Not surprised that he was gone, a sinking feeling is in your chest, he used you. Once again you are left knowing that you shouldn’t have thought anything else. Should have known him being on his best behavior recently was just another ploy to sleep with you, knowing that he won. 

The rest of the day was spent moping around Tannyhill, grateful that you didn’t need to see him. Sarah being the only person you see when she stops by to get some of her things before running off again to stir up trouble. The day was so uneventful that you even decided to go to your parents cookout. Which turned out as awful as you expected it to go.

Reaching your childhood home you can see your neighbors scattered around the lawn. You notice your dad on the grill talking to one of the other dad, most likely talking about what rub or glaze he used this time. Walking around you greeted a few people who stopped you to ask how work is going. “That Cameron boy is causing you any trouble is he?” If only you knew, you thought. “No he’s not. They are all really respectful to me.” In hindsight it wasn’t a lie, they have been really nice making you feel welcomed. If the past two nights hadn’t happened you wouldn’t be so apprehensive to say it, but they did happen.

Everything seemed to be going well until you reached your mom. She was talking to some of her friends when she saw you walking their way. “Well if it isn’t my precious little angel. Hardly recognize you since we never see you.” She chuckles, trying to mask the insult with laughter. Taking a deep breath you give her a hug. “I know, I’m sorry. Been trying to visit but it’s been hectic.” Saying hi to the rest of the group was met with few words, some of them not replying at all. “How much work can it really be? The young one is practically an adult herself.” Your mom has a way of making everything you do seem insignificant or an inconvenience to her, your job being one of them. 

“You’d be surprised. Wheeze is a saint but she does give me a run for my money. I should go say hi to dad before he feels left out.” With that you walked off to greet your dad. The rest of the night was a never ending cycle of your parents making small jabs at you. Making you and the rest of the party uncomfortable every time they spoke. The cherry on the cake was when they pulled off to the side just as you were about to leave. “Sweetie, we need to ask you something and before you start getting mad you need to agree to hear us out.” Your dad says sitting on the couch looking at you, your mom next to him nodding along to his words. “Okay.”

“So you see we really need to fix up the house. You know how bad the AC is, you would have better luck keeping the fridge door open then that thing working.” Oh god you can already see where this is going, eyes rolling waiting for them to ask you for money. “Don’t roll your eyes at us, we are your parents.” Your mother scolded. “Anyway.” your dad continues. “We don’t have the money to get it fixed. The mortgage is barely even being covered as it is, we just need you to spot us some money. Just enough to get us going.” Taking a deep breath and cooling your nerves. “How much?” you ask.

“4,000.” Your eyes widen at the price, that's a whole month's worth of pay, let alone you don’t have that on you right now due to helping them out. “4,000? You need me to give you 4,000 dollars? By when?” The questions shootout at them. “Yes 4,000 and we need it now preferably.” So that’s why they invited you today, not because they miss you like they claim but because they need money. “I don’t have that kind of money on me or in my account.” “What do you mean you don’t have that money? What’s the point of working for some kooks if they don’t pay you well.” Your dad scoffs turning and looking at your mom. “What did I tell you? I told you she wouldn’t help us.”

This really can’t be happening right now. You have been working since you were 14 to contribute to the bills, every paycheck going straight into their hands. “I have been helping you. I’ve been helping you for the past six years with every bill in this house.” “We never asked you to do that.” Your mother rebuttals, taking another sip from the glass of wine in her hand. “Yes you have!.” you exclaim. “You are literally asking me for 4,000 dollars as we speak. Every time you ask me for money I hand it over without making a fuss, but this I can’t do. I have my own expenses, you know.”

“What expenses? All of a sudden you live in a fancy mansion and you’re too good to help out your parents.” Your dad’s words hurt you. You have tried to be their perfect daughter your whole life. The perfect grade, the scholarship, then declining the scholarship because they begged you not to go. Every life choice you’ve made has been to cater them and their wants. “Yes, dad, my expenses. I have my own car that I pay for by myself, a car loan as well, I even have to buy my own groceries. Then on top of that I send the both of you practically all of my paychecks. I’ve been scraping by trying to make it all work, why can’t the two of you just realize I can’t do this.” Your pleas fall onto deaf ears as they both get up from the couch. “If you aren’t willing to help us then there’s nothing left to talk about. You know where the door is.”

Watching as the walk away tears threaten to spill from your eyes. The drive back to Tannyhill seemed longer than it usually did. The conversation played on repeat throughout the whole drive. Parking your car you rush to the front door, all you want to do is lay in your bed and cry. Tears are already falling from your eyes as you close the front door. “Well what do we have here, country club? This that nanny you keep hiding from me?” You recognize the voice, you’ve seen and heard him around Tanny when Rose or Ward is gone. Barry is his name you think not really caring to find out you just walk down the hall. “Not much of a talker I see.”

“Leave her alone.” Rafe’s voice makes your ears perk up. Even though every muscle in your body is telling you to keep walking and not to look at him, you cave. Eyes meeting he can see the tears in them. “You okay, sunny?” You can’t do this right now, can’t get caught up in him just for him to leave once again. Without saying a word you brush past him, bounding up the stairs to the second floor. But before you can slam your bedroom door you can hear Barry talk. “The fuck you do to her?”

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The next morning you had yourself locked in your room just thinking. First about your parents and then about Rafe, then your parents and Rafe once again. It was torture having to sit in the room replaying ever interaction to see where things went wrong. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you about the Rafe situation but it might for your parents. 

Looking at the clock by the bed you see that it's almost one in the afternoon. Deciding that you can’t sit her a mope for the rest of your life, you get up and get ready. Ward had given you a membership to the country club when you first started, he thought it would be better since you can accompany Wheezie when she goes. A nice relaxing day at the club, eating the fancy food is just what you needed.

It didn’t take long to get there or to find a seat by the pool, most of the people are on the golf course anyway. The only people by the pool are the wives that have kids and the teens who were there for the lifeguard. Stripping from clothes you are left in the red bikini you wore, you put on some sunscreen before laying down on the lounge chair soaking up the rays. 

The sun feels nice against your skin, the heat relaxing your tense muscles finally being given a break. After about thirty minutes you flip over allowing your back to tan, not wanting to be uneven. The sound of kids laughing and the busy club lull you into a peaceful mind. So what if your parents are upset? You have done more than enough to help them out over the years, you can’t keep digging them out of their messes. Who even knows where most of the money you send them goes, it’s definitely not toward the house.

So what if Rafe is a dick who just uses girls and dumps them to the side? You can’t control who he is and clearly he just wanted to hookup nothing more. All that you can do now is just keep to yourself, it’s better to protect your peace then being his new play thing. Then why does it hurt? Shaking off the thoughts you notice how hot you started to get. 

The sun is beating down on you, sweat forming on your skin causing you to stick to the chair. Getting up you head into the pool, the cold warmer cooling you off as you float. You didn’t know this but a few feet away on the dining patio sat Rafe with Topper and Kelce. Rafe was half listening while the two boys talked about something he didn’t care about. His mind kept bringing back the picture of your crying face from last night.

As soon as Barry left he went straight to your room but the door was locked. He sat there for a second and heard nothing from the otherside of the door, assuming you went to bed he left for his room. When he woke up this morning it was all that he could think of, seeing you like that hurt him. You looked like he did after his dad made him feel less of, the thought of you feeling like that made his blood boil. But showing you he cared shows that he needs you, that he actually cares for, that’s not who he is.

No Rafe is the type of guy that fucks everything in his life up, dropped out of school, is a failure to his dad and in relationships. That's what he’s good at, you’ll see it eventually so why even try? Looking out to the course, he can see the pool from here, looking at all the bodies laying around. The red swimsuit draws his eyes down your body, recognizing you as you walk out the pool. The water drips down your stomach, down your legs, but the droplet in between your breasts has him staring. 

Rafe isn’t the only one staring, the few teen boys are staring, then there’s the lifeguard. Rafe remembers him from school and doesn’t like the fact he’s staring at you. He watches as you dry yourself off, putting the shirt and shirt you wore back on. Looking as you gather your things and escape his view as you leave, the boys gather his attention. “Dude are you even listening?” His eyes move back to them “Yeah.” 

You make your way through the halls, carding through your memory to remember how to get to the dining. As you walk, members of the club look at you, judging you for the way your shirt has wet spots from your swimsuit and hair. You decide to sit at the bar not wanting to deal with anyone today. “How can I help you m’lady.” You put the menu down to meet JJ’s gaze. “Oh my god! Jayj hi.” You squeal, catching the attention of patrons including Rafe. 

“I haven’t seen you in a while. Joining the darkside has really changed you.” He looks around before leaning a bit closer. “How is it on the other side? Miss us already?” He teases. “Of course I miss all of you.” You playful push his shoulder, JJ raises his hands up in surrender before resting his body weight on the bar counter arms next to yours. Rafe stares in shock at the scene playing in front of him. You, his girl, flirting with fucking Maybank of all people.

He sees JJ push a piece of hair behind your hair and you giggle. The chair scraping against the floor alerted the boys, he didn’t even realize he was even up and walking over to the two of you. “Where are you going?” Kelce calls out to him. “I’ll be right back.” As he gets closer he can hear your conversation more clearly. “You should come to the bonfire this week. I’ll make it worth your time.” JJ flirts, Rafe coming up right behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Looking over your shoulder you can see the look of anger on his face and the smirk painted on JJ's face. 

“Sunny! I didn’t know you were going to be here. Maybank why don’t you run along and get me another drink.” He says with a condescending tone, glaring at the blonde boy. “Rafe.” You say as a warning, already seeing how this is going to end. “What? I’m just asking the help to do his job. Right Maybank?” “I was actually helping out this beautiful customer. Ain’t that right baby?” JJ remarks getting closer to you. The look on Rafe’s face could probably kill JJ if he tried hard enough.

Rafe leans against the counter, his body facing you. “You really slumming it around with this loser? You like being around trash?” His comment made you see red.  How fucking dare he? You knew he kinda took the kook and pogue thing seriously but to call them trash. It’s like he forgets that you are also a pogue, that if it wasn’t for his father you would still be living on the cut with the rest of them. Which is true, he doesn't see you as a pogue or the help. 

To him you’re a kook, you belong with them, with him. “Yes I do. Now this trash is going to take itself out like the “help” do.” You say quoting help as a reminder that you also are the help. “I’ll see you around Jayj.” You tell the blonde looking at you with worried eyes before storming off. “Yeah see ya.” He calls out looking at Rafe for a moment. “Man I knew you were dumb but god damn. That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen you do.” He laughs and walks away to go serve other customers. Rafe knows he’s right, potentially just fucked up whatever the two of you had before it actually really started. More than he has already done by ignoring you for the past day and a half.

He makes his way back to the table, the guys watching as he takes out a wad of cash and throwing it on the table. “I gotta go.” He exclaims, rushing to try and catch you before you have the chance to fully leave. Racing out of the building he sees you in the distance looking for your car. Jogging he catches up to you grabbing your arm and yanking you back to him. “Let go of of me!” You yell at him turning and pushing his chest hard. “No! Come one just talk to me.” He exclaims fighting you to make you stay and hear him out. “Are you kidding me? Talk it out? You just insulted me and my friend.” “No I insulted him. I wouldn’t do that to you.” 

You scoff pulling your arm free from his grip. “So calling him trash just because he’s a pogue doesn’t insult me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed but I’m also a pogue. I came from the cut just like he does. Does that shit actually really mean something to you? Are you that fucking stupid?” Rafe’s been called stupid many times in his life, from Ward, his sisters, hell even Rose has called him stupid. He knows that he makes things difficult and not many people like him. But hearing you call him stupid fills him with more rage then seeing Maybank think he can have his girl. “Hey don’t you fucking dare. Say whatever every the fuck you want but I ain’t stupid you fucking hear me.” 

He grips your cheeks, pinching them together. “Don’t you ever call be stupid again got it?” You should be scared, you’ve seen his temper before, seen him throw shit around the house or get into a fight with people at parties. You don’t know what to do being on the receiving end of his anger, then his words ring in your ear making you angry all over again. That ache in your pants is ignored as you wrench your head out of his hand. “I don’t know what your problem is but if you put your hands on me again you’ll regret it. You think just because everyone else is scared of you that I will be too? News flash buddy I’m not.” “Don’t call me buddy.” His voice was weaker than it was when he was yelling. 

“You don’t get it.” He states turning away from you and letting you go. “You’re right I don’t. You don’t talk to me for two days completely ignoring me after you got what you wanted. Then when I’m catching up with a friend you come in guns blazing as if the world is about to end. What’s wro-“ “He was touching and flirting with you.” He cuts off your rant, stunning you into silence. “So what if he was?” Rafe’s eyes darken hearing you defend him, telling him you actually enjoyed the attention that you were getting from another guy. “So what?” He laughs differently from his normal one, darker than what you are used to.

 “You really think I want some other guy touching you? Do you fuck him too?” “You’re jealous?” You meant it as a statement but it came out more like a question. “Yeah I’m jealous. All those guys in there would give up all their money just to get a chance with you. You don’t know them like I do, they would jump at the chance to get with a beautiful girl.” This is the third time he’s insinuated you are beautiful in some way. “Well maybe I should give them a shot. You obviously” His lips crash to yours, not allowing you to finish. This is different from the other kisses you’ve shared, more intense. He’s trying to tell you he’s scared of losing you, a crazy thought considering you aren’t even his.

How can he feel so strongly for you than he already did? It’s no secret that he’s always had a thing for you but this is different. The thought of you leaving him for another person actually terrifies him. Everyone has left him and he can’t stand the thought of you being another person who walks away. You try fighting him again but all efforts die when his tongue makes its way into your mouth. Rafe has this effect on you that you can’t explain.

There was always this soft spot for him but now that the lines have muddled together it’s hard to separate your feelings. Arms wrap around his shoulder pulling the two of you closer to each other, bodies pressed together. He pulls away from you for a second allowing the two of you to catch your breaths.  “Get in the car. I’ll meet you back at the house.” Fully pulling away you straighten out your clothes that got a little skewed from making out. He goes to walk to his truck, you stop him. “You can’t just get upset like that and make a scene. If this thing between us is going to work you have to talk to me, okay?” Eyes softening looking at your expression he takes a step forward placing a kiss on your forehead. “Okay.” With that he walks away leaving you standing in the middle of the parking lot wondering what the hell just happened.

The both of you race back to Tanny, Rafe’s truck behind your car. Reaching the house, you make your way inside waiting for him to get here, you lost him at a red light on the way over. You go to the kitchen to get water, the sound of the front door opens, Rafe’s footsteps echoing through the hall. “You think you can just go around and flirt with people?” He’s standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, white polo stretching around his biceps. “I thought we talk-” “No I’m not done.” He enters the room, staring at your body with dark eyes. “Strip.”

The grip on the water bottle tightens. “What?” Rafe is now in front of you, taking the water from your hands, whipping the stray drop on your lips. His thumb gently pulls your bottom lip before releasing it. “Strip and get on your knees. I need to teach you a lesson, I don’t like people thinking they can have what’s mine.” You look at him before following the instructions, staring up at him as he unbuttons his pants to take his dick out.

“Open.” You do without a second thought. “Good girl.” He mumbles, forcing himself in and setting a brutal pace. You have to catch yourself on his thighs just so you don’t fall, his hand holding you in place. Hips thrusting into you, your throat gladly accepts the intrusion, gargling on his length. Tears pooling on your bottom lashes, spilling down your cheeks, making Rafe go harder on you. “Look at you. A mess of spit and tears for my cock. Think maybank can do this for you?”

He’s still on about what happened at the club, to tell the truth you were too. His jealousy causes mixed emotions in you. On one instance you like seeing how possessive he was for you, on the other he resorts to insults to get his way. You give him a rough suck, eyes meeting his. “Fuck.” Rafe pulls out, yanking you up and bending you over the kitchen island. His body covering yours as he lines himself up, you're so wet that you aren’t worried about the pain. You were sure that he would fit, no preparation needed. “Told you I would bend you over and fuck the shit out of you.”

With that he slammed into you, moaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to accommodate his size. He halts when he’s ball deep, giving you a moment to gather yourself, only a moment. His thrust pushes you further into the island, sure enough to leave marks on your hip tomorrow morning. You don’t even care, he feels too good, the feeling of him stretching you is overwhelming. Whimpers keep leaving your mouth. Rafe grabs your arms, using them as leverage to fuck you harder as he keeps them pinned behind you back by one hand.

“Harder.” You moan out. Your body tingling from all the pleasure he’s giving you, your peak creeping around the corner embarrassingly fast. “Yeah? My little slut wants me to fuck her faster?” The degradation goes straight to your clit, walls fluttering around his length. He goes harder for a few minutes before pulling out, a whine of protest leaving you. “You don’t get to cum yet.” Rafe’s hot breath in your ear, his body heat leaving you too. 

He turns you around and hoists you onto the island, spreading your legs to step in between them. Left hand going to guide himself back into you, gliding across your fold to get you hip and bring you closer to the edge. In this angle he hits you deep, pushing against your cervix with each thrust.

Wrapping a hand around your neck, he squeezes lightly just enough to have your mind all fuzzy. You roll your eyes back grasping onto his bicep, manicured nails digging into his flesh leaving crest shaped marks. Rafe hisses at the sensation enjoying the flash of pain radiating in his arm. He starts fucking you hard, pounding into you having his dick spear into your g-spot. His unoccupied hand takes hold of your hair, pulling you till your foreheads are pressed together. His watch digging into the back of your neck, chested firmly pressed to each other, sharing each breath.

 “Squeezing my dick so fucking good baby. Can you hear how bad your pussy needs it?” Rafe moans out. You can, you’re so wet that every time he fucks into you squelching fills the room. You open your mouth but a particular thrust makes you moan instead. The hand in your hair retracts, your head leaning back slightly, it comes down on your cheek. It wasn’t hard enough to really hurt but enough to have pain heat your face. You moan liking the feeling of the smack, mostly just enjoying the fact that he lost himself to the point of causing a bit of pain. 

“You like me hitting you baby?” When you moan he smacks you again, annoyed that you won’t speak. “Use your words.” Rafe’s hand cupping your jaw staring at your fucked out expression, the hand around your neck tightens as his pace increases. You’re wetness mixing with his pre-cum leaking out of you, making a mess between you two. “I like it sir.” It comes out more like a breath but it counts. “My good little girl. You gonna cum for me? Hmm cum for daddy.” The new nickname was the nail in the coffin, the tightness in your belly finally snapping.

 This feeling was a new thought. It was so intense and it didn’t feel like an orgasim that you’ve had before. Your walls squeeze rage so tight that it pushes him out of you, your release gushing out getting everything wet. “Did you just fucking squirt?” Rafe pushes his dick back in, fucking you harder than before. “Such a dirty fucking slut, squirting and getting everything wet.” Moans keep getting pulled from you, pouring out into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you. “Oh fu-fuck… I’m gonna cum. Where do you want it.” “Inside please.” 

If telling him to cum inside you didn’t make him cum, it was the please that did it. Rafe ruts into you, hips stuttering as he fills you with each squirt of him cum. The warm feeling making you moan and flutter against him. He rides out both of your highs, hips finally stopping when they met yours, keeping you plugged. He want to stay there, wants to just feel you, wrapping his arms around your body. He’s enjoying knowing you are stuffed full of him, that his cum is so deep that it's forced out around him. Pulling out slowly you both hiss, you at the feeling of him spilling from you, and him as he’s fixated watching it come out. 

Kissing you for a moment, Rafe pulls away walking to the sink, wetting a rag before going back to clean you up. The touch is so gentle that it barely hurts. He helps you put your clothes back on dragging the both of you over to the living room. He throws himself down on the couch taking you along with him, pulling you closer . “What happened last night.” You hand playing with his shirt stops. “Huh?” Moving your head to his shoulder you look him in the eyes. “You were crying last night. What happened?” 

“Oh” Trying to shift away from him, being blocked by his arms tightening keeping you in place. “It was just some fight with my parents. It’s nothing.” “It is something, it made you cry.” You wish he would stop trying to pry, it’s not as if he cares. Honestly you expected him to flee once your clothes were back on. Pulling you to the couch was unexpected but asking you to talk about your parents was too much. Too personal. The lines of friendship and having feelings are already getting muddled as it is, this would just push it further. 

“Hey.” It’s soft, lips brushing my forehead before he places a kiss there. “You said we have to communicate, right? Talk to me.” With a sigh you tell him everything. How since you were barely able to work you gave them all your money last night. “They expected me to just hand over 4,000 dollars like it’s nothing. Then when I finally put my foot down I’m a disappointment. Nothing I do anymore is right.” Rafe’s hand rubs your arms trying to soothe you. 

“You aren’t a disappointment. If they can’t handle the fact you have your own life then fuck them.” You slap his chest lightly. “I’m serious. You’ve done more than enough for them, if they can’t see that then it’s their loss." A moment of silence, his words soaking in as you both lay there. “Thank you. I” You don’t know what else to say, fingers tracing shapes along his chest. 

“I know what you’re feeling. My dad um he always lets me know how much of a fuck up I am. I know what it’s like to be a disappointment, you don’t even come close.” The confession felt foreign on his tongue. Rafe never opened up to anyone about his feelings, anytime he tried he was met with a “man up” or “this is how a man handles things”, he’s scared of what you will say. He feels you slip from his arms, closing his eyes not wanting to see you leave him alone, trying to calm the burning behind his eyelids. 

“I don’t think you’re a failure.” Blue eye’s open to meet yours, there’s a hint of vulnerability from what you can see. You lean down pecking his lips, pulling away to get a better look of him. “You’re more than what he sees. It’s a shame he doesn’t take the time to notice.” It was your turn to leave him without words. He’s searching your eyes, your face, for any sign that you were lying. That you were pitying him after he devolved a hidden secret. He knows you’ve heard his Dad yell at him but this is different. 

He can put on a mask after talking to Ward when he has to see you. This time he tore the mask off, wanting you to see him without the facade. “I don’t think that about you.” “Huh?” You respond with confusion filling your face. “I don’t think that you’re trash. You are probably the best thing to come out of Outer Banks.” He’s not lying or at least you don’t think he is. The look in his eyes tells you that he actually means it so you smile down at him. “The best thing huh.” You tease. “Don’t push it.”

[cartierdreamx]

HER MUSE (18+)

hi my little honey bunches! i hope your weekend was amazing and that this week brings you joy, laughter and love, as promised, this is my 400 follower smut oneshot special!!! congrats to @tamberandwenclairenjoyer for guessing my name but definitely a special shout out to those who tried so so hard to guess, and wow you guys tried hard, and a big shout out to you, my fellow readers <3 i may not be the biggest writer or get a lot of notes (it’s a hit or miss most times), but i wouldn’t be here with my little family if it weren’t for you, so thank you <3 i appreciate every single one of you and am 4ever grateful you enjoy my work. J <333

to my beautiful muse, @talialeih 🤍

Pairings: jenna ortega x fem! Reader 

Warnings: SMUT, just pure filthy smut, the filthiest thing i have ever written, possessive jenna. 

Summary: sometimes you seem to forget that you’re hers and only hers. 

Words: 5k+ 

This fic is STRICTLY 18+, as it involves adult themes, minors DNI, you are responsible for your own social media intake, which includes reading entertainment, which this fic falls under, so one last warning- this fic is 18+. Thank you!

*though my fics have real people, my fics are just for entertainment and far from reality*

~~

“Baby?” You hear a distant voice in desperation, “are you doneee?” Your beautiful yet very impatient girlfriend annunciates from the other side of your door, you can’t help but giggle at her childlike attitude, she was older than you by just a few months but sometimes you can’t help but think you’re the older one.

Placing your second earring in, you take one more look at yourself in the mirror, wink, and glide towards the door where you’re your restless love sits on the other side. Once you open the door, Jenna’s clearly annoyed facial expressions soften up, the sight of your beauty had enough force to relax her eyebrows and jaw, unhinging it from itself as she subconsciously drops her mouth wide open, you swear you see saliva build up as she salivates over you. Walking over to your girlfriend as she leans on the back of the couch, placing yourself between her legs, you close her jaw and lift it just slightly, so your eyes are locked.

“Perfection takes time.” You say as you jokingly wipe the corner of her mouth as if some of her drool escaped her lips.

“You are always perfect, mi cariño, so time is nothing.” Jenna coos at you, now caressing your waist and looking you up and down as she bites the inner tissue of her lip, making your cheeks erupt in red.

“What happened to the rush? You were practically begging me to hurry up.”

She lets out a huff, still locked on your figure, the grip she has on your waist even tighter and possessive than before, her entire body was on fire. On fire, because of you. “I don’t even think this dinner is that important, let’s just stay home and relax, I can help you take your dress off.” She mumbles trying so hard not to let you see her desperation, but it was too late, you could see how hungry she was for you, how she wanted your sweet nectar smeared all over her lips.

Lucky for her, you felt the same way, the way you longed for her slender fingers to be in you, hooking the tissue around it, her fingers were sure to be cold resulting in an extra loud gasp as you welcome her in. How you craved to sit on her lap with your arms slinged over her neck, whispering nothing but seductions into her ear making her neck hairs stand. The hunger she felt was mutual, you were just doing a better job at hiding it. Ironically, being the better actor despite you being a writer.

You tsk at her lust, “Come on baby, we can’t be late,” leaning in you tease, “maybe later you can take this off.”

Despite Jenna claiming this dinner wasn’t important and staying home would be the better choice, to absolutely no one’s surprise, not even the flies the linger in the backyard, she was lying, this was Anne Hathaway’s annual formal dinner, at first you were Jenna’s plus one but as your writing grew, as you made a name for yourself, that didn’t have Jenna plastered on it, you became a guest, just like Jenna. Of-course, being each other’s forever person, you two always went together, politely denying Anne’s generous plus one that she gave every guest.

“What car do you want to take, baby?”

“The McLaren.” You cheese at her, “can I drive?”

“Perfect choice! And no.” She cheeses back at you; except she was playfully mocking you.

Without fail Jenna always opens the door for you and guides you in whilst she holds your hand, tonight was no different, no matter the occasion she always held doors for you, ever since meeting Jenna, whenever you were with her, all the doors would be left untouched by you. “Mi princesa,” she air kisses at you when sliding into your seat, all you could do was laugh and roll your eyes.

Once in the car, your hands head straight for the radio, connecting your Bluetooth to the screen, scrolling through your endless RnB playlist you finally settle on a song.

Don’t. Don’t play with her, don’t be dishonest (ayy).

“WHEWWWW” You scream out as Jenna starts the engine, giving it a rev before she zooms off, “I LOVE THIS SONG.” You exclaim making Jenna laugh at your infatuation with this song, RnB in general. “SING IT GIRLFRAND.” You scream one last time, hoping Jenna joins in with the singing.

Though her eyes were on you now so she could sing to you, she was a great driver and had eyes everywhere so you two were always safe, “I want you bad as EVERRRR, don’t let me just let up.”

“I wanna give you better, baby, it’s whateverrrrr.” Continuing on, a few more lines of you two belting each word out as if you were front row and Bryson’s concert, you two were so in love, so filled with raw emotions and lust and you didn’t think you could melt anymore in this car but as soon as the line left hand is steerin’ the other is grippin’ your thigh, Jenna grabs your thigh almost man handling it that her fingers divots into your skin making you gasp a little and in retaliation she giggles.

You can’t help but cheese at her as your cheeks paint with blush, your eyes sparking at hers as your Fenty highlighter compliments your eyes, its colour and configuration, and once Jenna sets her gaze on you again, that same hungry look as if she hadn’t eaten in weeks, hadn’t eaten you in weeks, when in reality she was drowning in your ocean last night, the way your slick coated her lips and tongue and the way she transferred it to you as she made her way to your lips devouring every inch of your mouth, her tongue sliding down your throat.

A bunch more RnB songs later, mainly consisting of Frank Ocean and Giveon, Jenna pulls into the location mentioned in the invitation. Anne was a host genius, she never held her dinners at the same place and never served the same food, this year, the location felt so regal, like royalty, embodying and making homage to her Princess Diaries days. Though you two were at the gates waiting to get the all clear from the guards, you could see the tan palace adorned with ivy all over from the distance, at the end of a long drive way with pine trees and rose bushes on the sides.

“Wonder if they’re running by foot to Anne to get the confirmation.” Jenna jokes out considering it was taking a while for them to open the gate, as she grew even more restless by the second, that same hand that was on your thigh slowly starts making its way towards your garden making you perk up a bit as the soft ticklish feeling takes you by surprise, and as much as you wanted her to keep going, you know you can’t let her.

“Baby...” You breathe out, trying to collect your senses as her warm fingers hooks underneath an opening of your panties, her middle finger right above your now pulsating clit.

“Say please, pretty girl.” Jenna practically barks at you, your mind is telling you no, but your body is indicating the opposite, your desire for her to dive into you, two fingers in you and another rubbing circles on your clit as she marks every visible inch of you purple.

You lean into her ear, making your hips buck up so her finger was resting on your clit, making you seethed into her ear, “baby, no, be patient.” In scenarios like these, you barely said no, you two were always down, bathing in pleasure, juices and cum. Not wanting to take your ‘no’ for an answer she whispers back, her attempt to seduce you, “if you were a sin, you’d be the one I’d indulge in.” God, after that you weren’t sure how much self-control you had left, when most of the time, your sensualities would have none. But one of you had to remember what decorum is and unfortunately, it had to be you.

As you guide her hands out of your panties, you hear her sigh and “aww,” as she licks the finger that made contact with your clit, making you giggle, but before you could reassure her that she was sure to have all of you tonight, the guards finally come back with their confirmation, opening the gate.

“We apologise for the delay Ms. Ortega and Ms. l/n, but you’re all clear, welcome.” You and Jenna flash a smile as she starts driving off, acting as if they didn’t nearly witness a free show. Once Jenna puts the car in park amongst the other luxury vehicles, Bugatti, Porsche, a white Ferrari even, the same scenario played out, your door would remain untouched by you as Jenna scurries out and opens the door for you, taking your hand and kissing it as you step out.

As you walked side by side, arms linked, Jenna made sure to slow down when walking up the stretched out tan stairs that led up to the glorious door, not wanting you to slip and hurt yourself. Jenna was also in heels but not as high as yours and the fact that she was wearing a suit made it easier for her to walk, not having to worry about slipping on a floor length dress.

When you two reach the top, the double doors are opened from the inside with doormen in fashionable, yet regal suits on both sides, bowing their heads slightly as you both walked in, almost as if you two were royalty. And the first thing you noticed was the grand staircase that stretched from one side of the room to another, adorned with an emerald, green runner, complimenting the gold railings that had sculpted art attached to them going downwards. “Fucking you on that staircase would be a dream.” Jenna whispers into your ears, you’re not surprised that she’s still horny and fiending for you because you felt the same.

“Y/N! JENNA!” You both turn your heads and see Anne in this gorgeous gold gown with a matching cape that was longer than her dress, greeting you both with open arms. The two of you greet her with glee, exchanging kisses on the cheek, making jokes about how long you two waited to get in, which made her laugh too, she ushered you two where the rest of the guests were, the decadent dining room with a pure crystal chandelier hanging from above, the décor was on point like every other year, and despite the dinner being a big executive dinner, the ambiance felt warm and welcoming, seeing people you’re close with, people you’ve seen at Anne’s annual dinner and some new faces you cannot wait to meet. Anne’s hospitable nature tells you to help yourself to the giant charcuterie board that was almost as long as the the table itself, she also mentioned that not everyone was here, but dinner will commence then.

For the next twenty minutes you catch up with old friends, well, you don’t think you can consider them as friends as all they ever did was treat you like a daughter so if anything, old mother figures? You hoped to talk to more people, but you hadn’t seen Sandra and Sarah in so long, it was set in stone that you three would stick together, gossiping and devouring the soft cheeses and spicy cured meats laid out in front of you, making sure not to spoil your appetite for the main event though whilst Jenna mingled with others across the room.

Once everyone arrived, Anne had everyone find their seats, the name cards above the plates indicating where you were sitting, obviously Jenna would be sitting beside you, on your left, and then she sat Sandra and Sarah in front of you, as you go to check who would on your right, the fangirl in you jumps out as you silently squeal, grabbing Jenna’s attention.

“What is it, hermosa?” She asks all confused as to why you reacted like this.

“Does this card read Malina Weissman, or am I tripping?” Pointing to the card a few inches away from yours.

Jenna leans in past your shoulders to read the card and confirms your statement, “yes, baby, that does say Malina, what about it?” And once Jenna confirmed it, you try so hard to contain your excitement, you swear you nearly vibrate the entire room, “baby?”

“It’s Malina Weissman.” You finally manage to spit out, only making Jenna more confused and slightly threatened seeing you gush over another woman.

“Yes, it is, she’s an incredible and very underrated actress but what’s with the fangirling?”

“I used to be OBSESSED with her when I was younger, I fell in love with her and her character Violet when I watched ASOUE.”

“In love?” Jenna softly scoffs, she won’t admit it, but jealousy was plaguing her, and it was so obvious that everyone around you two were snickering, and this included, Sandra Bullock, Sarah Paulson, Helena Bonham Carter, Rihanna, AND Anne Hathaway. You glare at them, giving them a ‘don’t instigate anything’ look but you knew they would either way.

“Well, not in love, I just had a slight crush on her, that’s all.” Pouting your lips as you lift your shoulders up and down, and before she could relax and let all her worries float away, your so-called mother figures who weren’t supposed to instigate anything, INSTIGATED SOMETHING.

“Uhhh, actually,” Sarah starts, “we heard it was a big crush, lasting a few years.” You shut your eyes hopping this wouldn’t go on, but your hope wasn’t strong enough. Rih continues, “and she even wrote and published a story on Wattpad where she was a love interest and wrote herself in as the main character.”

“YOU WHAT?” Jenna raises her voice, jealousy pouring out of her ears, you start laughing even though you wanted the instigating to stop, cupping her soft face yet tensed jaw, you reassure her, “baby, it was a long time ago.”

“Oh!” Anne starts.

You crane your neck past Jenna’s head to look at her, “oh, don’t start PLEASE.”

“We forgot to mention that y/n actually posted a tik tok about how infatuated she was over her and Malina saw and liked!” You lift your palms to your face, wanting your suffering to end.

“Both tik toks.” Sandra and Helena say in unison.

Jenna looks back at you with furrowed eyebrows, “TWO?” You give the five of them death stares, a stare only a daughter would give their mother, making them sit down and start fidgeting with their plates and start engaging with each other instead.

“Baby, you have nothing to worry about, she has a boyfriend and plus she doesn’t even swing this way.” You reassure her.

She pulls you in by your waist and nibbles your ear, whispering in “you’re mine and mine only.” Making your spine stand up straight and your neck hairs stick up, along with raising goosebumps all over your exposed skin.

“I’m yours and yours only.”

Before you two could break apart, you hear a soft cough behind you, “uh, I don’t mean to interrupt this cuteness, but it seems I’ve been seated next to you.” You turn around and see a beautiful woman with brunette hair, bangs, legs for days, the bluest eyes and the softest white skin you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. Brunette and bangs, it seems like you have a type.

Your eyes light up, “hi! Sorry, it’s so nice to meet you,” you extend your hand out, “oh, get that out of here.” She softly slaps your hand out of the way and pulls you in for a tight, welcoming hug, which you gladly reciprocate, however it gets the jealousy in Jenna starting again. After introductions, well tense introductions on Jenna’s part, Anne addresses the guests and has everyone seated and excited for the first course, a seafood marinara accompanied with pieces of fresh baguette.

Once settled in, you and Malina start talking more, laughing at each other’s jokes and enjoying the delicious food plated in front of you, you didn’t mean to, but it made Jenna even more jealous, seeing her girl, her lady, her woman entertaining another. To be fair, in Jenna’s eyes, everything was exaggerated.

“NO WAY, you used to have a crush on me?” Malina asks with wide eyes.

“Yessss way, you liked my tik toks too, made me freak out so hard.”

“Ahhhh, I’m flattered really, and if I so didn’t have a boyfriend and I did like girls that way, I so would’ve asked you out.” She confesses.

Woah oh. To no one’s surprise, the instigator fives and Jenna were listening into your conversation and once the five heard what she said, they all looked at each other with yikes on their faces. Jenna on the other hand had jealousy painted all over it, red for jealousy and green for greed, the way she was so possessive over you, how she couldn’t bare seeing you being flirted with. It wasn’t toxic or anything because it didn’t hurt you, actually you found it hot and attractive. Knowing she can’t make a scene, she grits her teeth and digs into the main course a surf n turf, which included seared steaks and the biggest lobster tail your eyes set on.

Halfway through eating the main course, you feel cold slender fingers caress your thigh up and down, you try your best to ignore it as you and Mali were locked in a conversation, but the more she moves towards your pussy, the harder it is for you to hold conversation with Mali. But because luck was on your side, someone from the other side of Mali, asked her a question, which she politely paused your conversation to answer them, giving you the chance to once again guide Jenna’s hands away from your pussy.

“Jenna, come on, decorum.” Was all you could say to her before turning back to Mali as her conversation was over with the other person, the fire in Jenna was burning with jealousy and now she was starting to get mad at you, the way you keep entertaining Malina, how Malina was gawking over what’s hers.

After the food part of the dinner was over, everyone was free to roam and mingle around the palace, Jenna was quick to leave her seat but you didn’t think anything of it, instead, you and your new friend Mali decide to continue your convos while touring the place. After five minutes, you find yourself admiring this giant painting and its colours with her along with talking about other things.

“Oh my, I forgot to mention earlier, but congrats on the new season of Black Mirror!”

“OH EM GEE, you watch it?”

“YES! I’m a big fan of Black Mirror and when I found out you were writing for season six, I was so stoked, I’m a huge fan of you and your work, so this was such a cool thing to experience.”

“Well, I am flattered, thank you very much.”

“Nooo, thank you.” Both of you guys start laughing, you don’t notice that Jenna found you guys and now is walking towards you two, but Mali does.

“Ah, there she is, your muse.” Mali points to Jenna and waves hello, Jenna waving back even though her feelings were all over the place.

“Her muse,” Jenna repeats, wrapping her arm around your waist, holding onto it tightly, a lot more than usual but it felt nice so you didn’t object to it.

“I really do hate to barge into this conversation, but could I steal y/n away for a moment?”

“It’s no problem at all, please go head, go do some cute couple shit, I’ll be around.” And with that, Jenna smiles at her, and whisks you away, you didn’t even have time to collect your thoughts or say a proper bye, to be fair you thought you’d be back. But now, Jenna leads you into one of the many luxurious bathrooms and locks the door shut.

“Baby?” You ask all confuse.

“The only words that will leave your mouth next is yes ma’am.” She says, ever so dominantly.

Not wanting to piss her off even more, which clearly you have, you comply, “yes ma’am.”

“Am I yours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

“Only yours?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She takes a step closer to you, pinning you up against the wall with her own body, “then tell me, pretty girl,” all of a sudden, she brings her hand to your neck and grabs it, softly choking you, you can’t help but moan in the process, “why are you entertaining others?” Your mouth drops.

“Baby, I’m not.” You release in gasps, trying so hard not to moan, knowing she’d use it against you.

“No?”

You shake your head. Jenna notices the breathing pattern you’re releasing and realises it’s the same one you harbour when she’s fucking you senseless. “Oh, baby, are you my good girl?”

“Y-yes,” you manage to spit out, “please, just.”

“Just what? You want me to fuck you so hard that it’ll shut you up? Punish you for entertaining others, and you’d enjoy every single second of it, like the naughty girl you are, taking pleasure in something so dirty.” The grip on neck was stronger than ever, but Jenna knew how to do it properly, the safe way, making sure she didn’t suffocate you and that you were still able to breathe.

“God, yes, please, J-Jenna.” You start begging.

“Begging already?” She laughs at you, now letting go of your neck and grabbing both your hands and pinning them up above your head, “you’re pathetic, and easy.” She spits out.

“Please, I take pleasure in you, mark every inch of me, let the whole world know who I belong to.”

She scoffs, “you’re such a good girl, you’d let me do anything to you, let me mark every single inch of your body to show everyone that you’re mine and only mine, my good, obedient slut.”

“Yes.” You breathe out, lunging your head forward to get even the slightest taste of her.

“Oh? You want a kiss, not that easy, baby, you have to work for it.” She slowly lets go of your hands as she starts sucking on the top of your boobs, on the skin that is exposed, but she doesn’t stop, her hunger takes over, she pulls down the fabric covering the rest of your boobs and then she goes ham, sucking in your nipples, pleasuring your areolas, devouring each boob as if they were her last meal.

Your moans started soft, Jenna couldn’t hear them as she was too focused on smothering herself into you but as her force grows stronger, your moans grow louder, “nope,” she mumbles, she lifts her head up and locks eye contact with you, “you start moaning, and I stop, you think I’d give you the satisfaction of moaning after your little stunt? You thought wrong.” The gulp you let down was so strong you almost choke but you didn’t want Jenna to stop so you give into her commands.

Once she’s satisfied with your boobs, she starts caressing your curves as she starts kissing downwards, once she reaches your pussy, she takes one leg and slings it over her shoulder and you instinctively wrap it around your neck, lucky for her, the slit in your dress made it an easy access of her. She pulls down your panties and starts kissing the base of your vagina, working her tongue down to your clit, making you gasp, quickly realising what you had down, you place your palm over your mouth, hoping you don’t start moaning.

As she continues to lick every inch of your pussy, sucking the folds, sucking your clit and occasionally sticking her tongue into your entrance, you buck your hips towards her, wanting to make the most out of her tongue. She’s eating you out so good, she has all of you, every inch of your skin, every syllable that leaves your mouth, every letter of your name, it’s all hers. That tight coil feeling you know all too well starts building up and from the countless times Jenna has fucked you, she knows you’re close. But she can’t let you off that easily, once your eyes roll at the back of your head and your mouth opens, just waiting for a moan to escape, she pulls away. Looking at you with an evil grin plastered on her face.

“Fuck.” You mouth off, “why’d you stop?” Almost sounding annoyed.

“Well, well, well,” she laughs, “look who’s annoyed now, you want me to keep going?”

“Yes.” You moan.

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, please, please Jenna, I need you in me, need your tongue to devour every bit of me, please.”

“Begging for me to fuck you?” She looks at you with pride on her face, “how pathetic,” she spits. “I want you to kneel like the good slut you are ang beg for it, beg me to fuck you mercilessly.”

You lean in to kiss her and as you let go of her top lip, you find yourself slowly kneeling down, not breaking eye contact and once you’re on your knees, you look at her with soft eyes, she grabs your jaw and lifts it slightly upwards, raising her eyebrows at you.

“Jenna, baby, please, I need you, need you so bad, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to entertain her, I’m all yours, all yours to love, to use, to fuck, like the good slut I am.”

“Whew, hermosa, you drive me crazy, you want me to fuck you so bad?” You nod like a spring bouncing up and down. “You want me to use the strap?”

You gasp with excitement, “yes, baby, please.”

“Okay,” she caresses your cheek with her thumb, “we’re going to go home, tell Anne you don’t feel well, and then when we get home, I’m going to fuck you mercilessly, you want to be my slut so bad? Then my slut you shall be, and you’re going to take every single inch of me like the good girl you are, you’re mine, y/n, I’ll have you wishing that you never disobey me again.”

~~

The drive home was tense, there was so much tension in the air, you swore Jenna was going to stop the car and fuck you right there, on the side of the road. “God, you’re so tempting,” was the only thing she said to you on the way home, and as the metres grew shorter, the more your excitement grew stronger, once the car was in the garage, Jenna practically leaped out of her seat to open the door for you, once you stood up, you grabbed her collar and started violently making out with her, she pins you up against the car, slowly untying the back of your dress, as you slowly undo her buttons.

“Well Ms. Ortega, your lapel seems to harbour a lot of buttons, trying to make me work for it?”

“Always.”

As both of you are tongue deep in each other’s throats, you lead one another to your bedroom, slowly removing clothing on the way, where all carnage breaks loose. You start whimpering as you beg for her to take you, impatience as she attaches the strap and as she turns around, your mouth starts to salivate, moaning at the sight of her.

She signals at you to come forward, and you obey, “I bet you’re so tight and wet.”

“Come and find out.” And with that, she pushes you onto the bed making your boobs bounce as a result of recoil, she lifts both of your legs up and slings it over her shoulders, once again wrapping them around her neck as a reflex. She starts pounding into you and all those moans you held in earlier were letting loose, each pound resulted in a moan louder than the last. She was ravishing you, and though her strap was artificial, she could feel your walls closing in, she could feel the warmth and the slickness, you were so wet, she swore you formed an ocean.

With each thrust into you, the pleasure is too overwhelming that grab onto the bed sheets, with one hand near your mouth as you bite down on the side of your wrist, ensuring you leave a mark. “Yeah? You like that baby, don’t you.”

“F-fuck, yes, yes I do.”

“Say my name, y/n, say it.”

“J-J-Jenna, fuck, Jenna.” You moan out in small, short breaths, barely being able to say her name correctly.

“Good job, my sweet girl, now say your name, your pussy deserves praise too.”

“Fuck,” you start but now she’s pounding even stronger with long forceful strokes, “fuck, it’s.”

“It’s?”

“It’s- baby, I can’t, please, I need to cum, please let me cum.” That same coil feeling in your stomach is back but now it’s stronger than ever, considering you didn’t get to cum back in the bathroom. You can see the sweat illuminate Jenna’s beauty, her mouth open as she’s close to cumming too, your orgasms were always in sync.

“Mhmh yeah? Me too, fuck, fucking you so good, you forget your own name.” She moans, now grabbing your boobs and squeezing them like two big oranges, “who do you belong to?”

“You.”

“W-who?” She stutters out as her climax reaches ever so closely.

“Y-you, baby.” The same stutter gets to you as your climax is inching closer.

“My name, y/n, fuck.”

“I’m y-yours, Jenna-”

“Y/N!”

“FUCK.” You both say in unison as your orgasms crash into you two like a freight truck, her strokes slows down, helping you ride out the high, her breathing labours and so does yours, gasping for air like it was a contest, and as she pulls out, your slick connects your pussy and her strap, taking off the strap she then takes her hand and collects your juices and spreads it along your lips, tempted to lick it off, you don’t, you know what’s next. She crashes onto your body, onto your lips kissing your juices, your cum off your lips.

“You taste divine, cara mia.” She mumbles in between breaths, making you giggle, and as she moves off of your body to lay next to you, still kissing and biting every inch of your lips, “you drive me absolutely crazy, sweet girl.”

You pull away, “that’s the plan,” you cheese at her, shuffling your body down a bit so you could lay your head on her boobs, relaxing as the night goes on, you two are sure to fall asleep within the next hour but now you bathe in the pleasure, the lust, the love you two share with each other and no one else.

“You’re mine, and mine only.”

 ~~

a/n: you get a cookie if you can find all of the frank ocean references in this fic hehe, a kiss if you’re my wife, also extra points if you can guess the singer in the second pic i used 😚. fun fact, the entire Malina Weissman thing is 100% real, real to me, I used to have the FATTEST crush on her (still do) and she did like two of my tik toks!! Oh and that wattpad story… uh, next question😁

also sorry if like there’s mistakes, it’s 9am and i haven’t slept in like 19hrs so bare with me 😭🤍

tag list: @talialeih, @alexkolax (idkw it’s not working but you asked me to add you to my tag lists!! <3), @iamthewoe

[neonghostlights]

Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Actress!Reader (best friends to lovers-slow burn)

★ Series Summary: It’s the ‘90s in LA and you and your best friend Eddie have both made it big. The following is a series of Interviews, News Reports and One Shots showing you and Eddie’s story throughout the years.

★Chapter Summary: Reader goes on a date. Eddie makes a declaration. And a time jump.

Reminder on who everyone is:

Margie-Reader's manager

Miles-Reader's Personal Assistant/friend

Collin-Reader met him in this chapter. He is a rockstar as well. Eddie does not like him and warned reader away from him when she met him.

★Warnings: Domestic Violence and Verbal Abuse, READER IS IN AN ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP (not with Eddie), Injury (reader has bruises and allusion to possible other injuries), Love bombing, Arguments, Cussing, PLEASE DO NOT READ IF THIS IS TRIGGERING, 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI

★Wordcount: 3k

Series Masterlist

Chapter Six: The Start Of Something Terrible

February 1991

You sat at the restaurant with your hands in your lap and your anxiety through the roof. Your meals had both been eaten and now you were killing time, neither of you ready to go home quite yet. 

You had to admit that you were a little rusty with the dating game, the last actual date you had been on had been over a year ago. It was more of a photo opportunity than anything else. 

It was only a week ago that Collin had sent you the flowers and note following the award show asking you out on a date. 

He had managed to snag a table at one of the best restaurants in LA even though it was short notice. You didn’t ask him how he didn’t, but you guessed it probably cost a pretty penny.

The lights were dimmed, romantic. The table you had was secluded towards the back in a private room designated for just the two of you. 

When you had arrived, there was a line of paparazzi waiting as soon as you stepped out of the car. You weren’t sure how they knew you’d be here since you didn’t even tell Margie what you were doing tonight. You shielded your face with your bag when you got out, hoping that would keep them from getting any good pictures.  

You felt guilty as you sat here in a pretty dress, laughing at all of Collins jokes. You hadn’t told Eddie about the date at all when he left your hotel room a week ago. He had called you earlier, while you were getting ready. You just told him that you didn’t feel good and were going to bed for the night. 

It felt bitter on your tongue to lie to him. It felt like you were doing something wrong. 

But you weren’t, really. You were an adult having dinner with another adult. Eddie didn’t need to know about every single move you made. 

You think that maybe you felt bad about this whole dating thing because when you met Collin at Eddie’s show, Eddie had explicitly warned you away from him. 

But Collin had been nothing but a gentleman since you’d been at this table with him. 

He said all the right things, telling you how beautiful looked as soon as he laid eyes on you. 

You had to admit that made you feel good since you put extra time into your appearance today. It wasn’t often that you got to do your own makeup and hair anymore but you felt like you did a good job. 

Collin took a sip of his wine, the sleeves of his white dress shirt were rolled up to display the tattoos that covered his forearms. 

The tattoos reminded you of Eddie and you had to yell at yourself in your head to stop thinking about your best friend while you were on a date with another man. 

“Where do you see yourself in ten years?” Collin asked suddenly, leaning forward so both of his forearms were against the white linen tablecloth. 

His eyes looked at you with a heat you weren’t used to seeing. Yeah, men hit on you sometimes but not because they found you attractive but because you were placed on this pedestal just because of the job you did. 

The way he looked at you made you flustered. 

You hummed as you picked up your wine glass, twirling the liquid in the glass as you thought. You leaned back in your chair, needing some distance so you could breathe. 

“I think I want to be behind the scenes more. I don’t think I want to be in front of the camera as much but behind them. Maybe directing or producing movies instead of starring in them,” you admitted.  

It wasn’t an idea that you had ever spoken out loud to anyone before. Margie would have a heart attack if she heard those words leave your lips. It was something you had thought about recently. 

The art of making movies wasn’t something you truly appreciated until you moved out here and got to see it first hand. 

Collin looked surprised at your words. “And why is that?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “I don’t really like attention. It makes me uncomfortable.”

Collin laughed at this, setting his wineglass down. 

“I think you’re the only celebrity I have ever met that doesn’t like attention.”

You nodded silently, unsure of what to say. 

Collin’s gaze turned smoky as he kept his eyes on you. 

“What about my attention?” 

“I don’t understand.” 

“Do you like it when I pay attention to you?” His voice smothered you when it came out. It was thick, raspy, and full of want. You had never felt tension like this by just sitting at a dinner table with a person. 

You shied away from his gaze for a second, processing his words. Your body heated and your stomach fluttered as you came to the realization that, yes, you did like Collin paying attention to you. 

You liked it a lot.  

You straightened your back and looked him straight in the eyes. You gave him a slow nod, making sure he could see each movement of your head as you bobbed it up and down in agreement. 

Collins tongue darted out to lick across his lips. He fished his wallet out his back pocket, pulling out a few hundreds and tossing them on the table. 

He stood, coming around to your side of the table and holding out a hand for you to take. 

When he pulled you up, he leaned down and spoke softly into your ear. You could feel the stubble of his chin brush against your skin and it made your arms break out into goosebumps. 

“I don’t think I’m ready for this night to end. Are you?”

You knew what he was really asking. Now was the pivotal moment, the time that you made an important choice. It felt like you were making a decision that weighed heavier than just whether or not you were sleeping with him or not tonight. 

It felt like whatever you decided was going to change the course of your future. 

You held onto his hand a little tighter, weaving your fingers between his. They weren’t calloused like Eddie’s, which was strange since Collin was a rockstar too. Maybe he just didn’t play guitar as much as Eddie did. 

You brushed off the thoughts as you gave Collin a small smile and let him take you back to his house. 

March 1991

The phone rang again and Miles  gave you an exasperated look over to where you laid on the couch painting your toenails. It was late now, the sun going down well over an hour ago and turning into night. You were staying up from when Collin finished up at the studio and would stop by your house. 

It had been two weeks of the non-stop calling after the tabloids broke your date with Collin. Eddie had seen it, or maybe heard of it from someone else, you weren’t sure. But he had been trying to get in touch with you ever since. 

It was easy to ignore. Especially since Eddie was out of town, playing a benefit concert in Washington and then hopping over to New York to make a guest appearance at a fashion show. You didn’t have to worry about him just showing up at your house when he was states away from you. 

You wondered how he found the time to call you nonstop when he was so busy and when his schedule looked like this it was normal to not hear from him for long periods of time.

The night at Collins had gone amazing after your date. It went so well that everynight Collin was either at your place or you were at his. 

You received flowers from him everyday, a fresh bouquet delivered to your doorstep every morning when you woke up. You’d find notes hidden around, reminding you how beautiful, smart and funny you were. 

So, things were going really well. 

It was nice to be wanted and desired. Collin dropped everything yesterday just to hang out with you. It wasn’t something that you had ever experienced before. 

It made you rethink the other relationships in your life. 

Hence, why you were now ignoring Eddie until you could figure out your feelings. 

You just needed to figure out a way to keep both Collin and Eddie in your life simultaneously. Eddie would complain at first but you knew he would get over it. 

You had intentionally avoided speaking about Eddie in front of Collin. You mentioned him once, just a story from your youth where Eddie happened to be involved and Collin got annoyed that you even brought him up. Since then, you hadn’t even uttered Eddie’s name. You didn’t want to ruin you and Collin's relationship when it was only the beginning. 

“I’m just saying you should probably answer,” Miles sang from where he sat on the recliner, going through some paperwork. 

Miles had turned into more than an assistant at this point. Your employer/employee relationship had turned into more of a friendship. That man had seen you at your worst at the beginning of his job with you and it had made you two close. 

You put on another coat of pink paint on your big toe, worrying if Collin would think it was too girly. 

You rolled your eyes light-heartedly. You knew at some point you would have to answer. You just weren’t sure what to say when you did. 

“Roll your eyes all you want to but what if it’s an emergency. Isn’t his uncle elderly?” Miles tsked as he flipped a paper over, pretending to read the back of it. 

This made you perk up slightly. 

“I wouldn’t say Wayne is elderly and none of his voicemails have said anything about an emergency,” you explained, trying to fight the anxiety at the thought of you ignoring Eddie when something was seriously wrong. 

“No. They’ve just said, ‘We need to talk. It’s important. You need to call me back as soon as you get this.’ Yeah, doesn’t sound serious at all.” You had to admit Miles’ imitation of Eddie was pretty spot on.

The phone rang again and Miles gave you a look that told you that you better get up and get it this time. 

You groaned as you got up from the plush couch. You took each step to where the phone hung in the kitchen slowly. You were cursing the fact that you still had a small house despite Margie begging you to get a newer and bigger one every time she came over. It was too short of a walk from the living room to the phone. You couldn’t put it off any longer. 

You picked it up mid ring, looking over to Miles for help. 

He waved his hands in the air frantically, signaling you to start speaking. 

“Hello?” Eddie’s voice came through the line. He sounded upset, frantic. He had probably been nervous when he couldn’t reach you and it made you feel sick with guilt. 

You weren’t sure where he was at the moment but you could hear people talking and laughing in the background as music played. Maybe he was at a party or something. 

“Hey,” you said softly into the phone. You heard Eddie let out a breath of relief at the sound of your voice. 

“Where the hell have you been?” He snapped, his tone sharp. You pulled the phone away from your ear and looked down at it, wondering why he was speaking to you this way. 

“Excuse me?” You asked, giving him another chance to change his tone. 

“I’ve been calling you for weeks and you haven’t called me back. I’ve been talking to Margie and she said you’ve been home and not doing anything so why have you been ignoring me?” He asked accusingly. 

Your hand clenched onto the phone so tight that your fingers began to ache. You had spoken to him and Margie about talking about you behind your back before. 

“Maybe I just haven’t felt like talking, Eddie,” you bit back. 

“Oh? Why’s that? Because you’ve been running all over town with Collin Taser? I saw the damn photos,” Eddie barked. 

“Why is it any of your damn business?!” You yelled. 

“Because I told you that guy is no good!” Eddie yelled back. You heard the noises of the people in the background go silent, probably listening to every word he was saying. 

“Really? Because he treats me pretty well. In the past few weeks he’s even treated me better and given me more attention than my best friend of the last thirteen years ever has,” you spat. 

Eddie went silent for a moment but you could hear his angry breathing come through the line. 

“You don’t mean that,” Eddie said, voice softer than it was a moment before. 

“Oh, I mean it. I’m dead serious,” you admitted, anger still evident in your tone. 

“Listen, why don’t we talk about this when I’m back in town? I know I’ve been busy but we both have and you can’t keep putting the blame on me.” 

You laughed humorlessly into the phone. 

“No. I actually don’t want you to call me or speak to me ever again,” you said, the finality of your words ringing clean. 

You knew you meant what you said, and based on the silence on the other end, Eddie did too. 

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered, the words leaving his lips for the second time during this conversation. So softly that you barely heard it. 

You couldn’t let your voice crack. You couldn’t let him think you were being weak. 

“I mean it,” was all you said. 

“When he hurts you don’t come crawling back,” Eddie declared loudly. 

You slammed the phone back onto the hook. You felt your shoulders rise and fall with each shaking breath you took. 

Miles came up beside you, either to hug you or to keep you from collapsing. You weren’t sure. 

You put a hand up, stopping him. You needed to do one more thing before you lost your nerve. 

You dialed the number with each hard jab of your finger, listening, waiting for them to answer once it started to ring. 

“Hey, this is Margie,” she greeted brightfully on the other end, blissfully unaware of the mood you were in. 

“If you talk about me or even mention my name to Eddie Munson ever again then you’re fired,” was all you needed to say. 

You hung up in the middle of Margie’s confused stammering before turning and sobbing into Miles’ arms. 

—

September 1991- Six Months Later

You sat in the tall chair, the lights of the vanity shining brightly into your sensitive eyes. 

Margie sat behind you on the sofa, watching a talk show while the makeup artist smeared thick concealer under your eyes. 

You were getting ready to go onto an interview with your co stars from your most recent film. You were actually excited for this one. There were plans for a sequel in the works already based on the reaction from fans so far, and it wasn’t even out yet. 

Your hand trembled slightly, while you reached for the glass of water that sat in front of you on the counter, between all of the pallets of makeup that the artist took one look at you and decided to pull out. You were careful to use your left hand to grab the water, not your right. That hand would stay hidden under the apron she had tied around you to protect your dress from any spilling of makeup. 

The water felt good on your scratchy throat. 

You nearly choked when a familiar voice came from the TV behind you. A voice that you hadn’t heard in the last six months since you last spoke. 

The glass of water tumbled out of your weak grip, landing on the floor with a crash. Miles was there in a heartbeat, scooping up pieces of glass with his bare hands. 

You made eye contact with the Eddie on the TV through the mirror. He looked thinner than the last time you saw him but you looked away before you could get a better look. It hurt too much. There was too much confusion there for you to focus on today. 

“Change it,” you demanded, your voice coming out raspy from how raw your throat was. 

Margie moved immediately from the couch, scrambling for the remote that had gotten lost in the couch cushions. 

You closed your eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. 

You hadn’t spoken to Eddie since that final phone call in March when you told him not to talk to you ever again. 

After that, it wasn’t long before you moved in with Collin, taking a new phone number and address. If Eddie wanted to reach you he wouldn’t even know where to start. 

You think that’s what hurt the most, the not knowing if he had tried to reach out to you or not. Did he even miss you? Not that you cared or anything. 

Because why would you care? You were successful. You were in a relationship. You were happy. 

You finally opened your eyes, to meet the worried stare of the makeup artist. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologized softly. 

She nodded, offering you a soft smile. 

You the tear that escaped under your eye gingerly, careful not to wipe the makeup off the tender skin there. 

The makeup artist noticed the skin of your wrist, the purples and blacks of the bruise there that your bracelet didn’t do as well as covering as you thought it would. It was the perfect match to his hand. You could almost feel the tight grip again, hear the screaming as he got into your face. 

 It wasn’t the first but he promised it would be the last. 

“Do you want me to cover that too?” She asked politely, already grabbing more concealer and mixing it with her brush and pallet like a true artist.

You nodded, offering a small smile as you held your wrist up for her to work her magic on. 

You avoided the looks of Miles and Margie. You knew what those looks meant and you couldn’t stand their pity today. You didn’t need it. 

You were happy.

[mrsquill]

Two Chances

Pairing: Joel Miller x Fem!Reader (Outbreak-Free AU)

Summary: You love your job at your local dog shelter, but weekends are precious to you. Enter Joel Miller and his daughter, looking to add to their family.

Notes: Well, here’s this. My first x reader fic! Based on a gorgeous little something @fuckyeahdindjarin inspired me to write a little while ago ❤️ I’ve tried to be as inclusive as possible here, but please let me know if I’ve missed the mark at any point. This, as usual, is short but hopefully y’all enjoy. Thanks to all those in this beautiful community who have inspired & helped me along the way.

Warnings: Fluff, reader has smutty thoughts about Joel cuz she’s only human (18+ minors DNI), no specific age of reader (but she is an adult), slight angst, discussion of parent death and awful fathers. Joel could potentially be a bit OOC here but *shrugs* I think that’s everything!

You couldn’t wait to finish your shift. Not that you didn’t love your job, but it was hot as balls out today, and all you were dreaming of was an ice cold beer and the pool in your neighbour’s backyard, nothing but silence in your surroundings. It’d been an exhausting and physically demanding day at the shelter - 25 dogs needing to be fed, watered, exercised and cared for round the clock. It would do that to anyone, let alone you, who’d taken this on as a part-time job and just kinda got stuck.

Your braid was falling out, sticking to the sweat pooling on your neck as you swept the concrete outside the kennels; straps of your white cotton camisole slipping down your sore upper arms.

Ten minutes, you assured yourself, silently puffing stray strands of hair away from your forehead and glancing at the clock. The raucous din of the dogs chattering to one another bounced off the walls around you. Ten minutes ‘til your weekend was finally yours.

Still, you could think of worse places to spend your Saturday, watching as the two newest arrivals - brother Boxer puppies, Thor and Loki - chased one another’s tails round their pen. The residents here shattered your heart and made it feel so full at all once; some having the most horrendous skin-and-bone start to their lives on the streets, others lasting only a couple of months with a family after being purchased as a barely thought-out Christmas gift. Gaining their trust could be hard, but it was worth it every damn time; nothing was more rewarding than those wet puppy kisses after hours of gentle coaxing.

“I’m heading out, hon,” Mo calls out to you with a wave from the makeshift office at the end of the kennels. “See you Monday!”, you reply with genuine enthusiasm, as you watch your boss head off in the direction of her house. You loved Mo; she had a way with all animals that you were sure would guarantee her entry to the pearly gates one day.

She curated a home for the dogs here that you were more than happy to assist with. Being just the two of you, things could get a little intense, but you were fond of each other, and had no qualms about alternating who would close up on the weekend.

A couple more minutes go by as you absent-mindedly check off the few remaining tasks on your list, head more full of the decision of which Ben & Jerry’s flavour to pick up at the gas station on the way home. It’s then you hear the crunch of the gravel outside as a car pulls up; silently cursing as you note the time. 5:01pm.

Sighing, hating the notion of turning anyone away, you dust down the front of your cutoffs the best you can and chewing your lip uncertainly. You guess you can spare some time; if these people are serious about adoption, it’s a win-win situation for everyone involved. The traffic through the shelter was steady, but you could always be doing better. It’s sad to see a dog go - of course it was - but seeing them head off with their new family was all the reward you needed in the world.

A pair of footsteps and muted chatter come round the corner from the parking lot, and suddenly you’re doing everything you can not to openly stare at the man approaching you on the concrete, a girl of around five or six that you can only imagine to be his young daughter swinging off his hand.

It’s not that he’s especially tall or anything. But man, is he broad. Strong shoulders under his denim shirt, biceps nudging lovingly against his sleeves. Not the kind of muscle from the gym, though; no, this guy clearly spends his days outside doing something physical, judging by the dust on his boots and the worn material of his jeans at the kneecaps. The idea of him, sweaty and shirtless and perhaps a hammer in hand, has you feeling like you need to grip the walkway rail a little harder. Pathetic, you reprimand yourself internally. You don’t think you’ve been this bowled over by a gorgeous man since your grandmother sat you down to watch Indiana Jones as a kid.

You sneak a look at the smattering of hair at the base of his thick neck; his rugged jawline, beard creeping over just so. He runs a hand through his curls, and he catches you staring. Fuck. He looks back down at his daughter; and you’re all at sea after looking into his eyes. Darkest brown, drinking you in. You draw yourself up to your fullest height and grip the broom a little harder as they reach you. It wouldn’t do to be caught - again - staring at him like some lovestruck teenager.

“We’re too late, ain’t we?” he chuckles, narrowing his eyes in anticipation of your response. “Not at all!” you smile, perhaps a little too brightly, and you can tell he doesn’t believe you by the quirk of his brow. “This one was none too happy with me makin’ her wait till the weekend to come here, so thank you for seein’ us,” he murmurs, gesturing to the girl beside him as she grins at you shyly, one front tooth missing.

You introduce yourself to them both, trying to ignore the flutter in your stomach as his large hand envelops yours easily. “‘m Joel, and this here is my daughter, Sarah,” he nods affectionately towards the young girl; her eyes already shining with excitement as she catches sight of the two Boxer puppies gambolling around behind you. “Would you like to meet them?” you ask Sarah, and she nods so enthusiastically you worry her head may fall off.

“We have an enclosed meadow out back,” you point your thumb behind you, “and we can take these little guys over there, if you’d like?” you offer, and Joel grins. “Only if it ain’t too much trouble, sweetheart,” he murmurs with that Southern drawl, and suddenly you feel all your earlier desire to head home evaporate like a creek in the summertime. You assure him it’s fine; and with both puppies soon under your arms with practiced ease, you head over to the meadow, Joel and Sarah in tow.

You find you hit it off with him instantly; first asking the important questions such as their living situation, if they’ve owned a dog before, or if they have any other pets at home. “Quite the questionnaire, darlin’,” he chuckles lowly, arms folded over his chest as you both watch Sarah giggling, legs crossed in the sunshine as the puppies climb all over her. He, in turn, takes it upon himself to ask you how long you’ve worked here, what it is you enjoy about it the most. Realising you’re here for the long haul - and not being one bit mad about it - you gesture Joel to sit at a bench with you; averting your eyes when his thighs stretch over the wood opposite you. Get it together.

“Sarah certainly seems to be a dog lover,” you smile to distract yourself, and Joel hums his agreement. “Would you be prepared to take on a puppy?”, you ask. “I’m sure you’re aware, but they do require extensive training - potty, obedience and socialisation.” Joel raises his eyebrows then, biting back a smile. “Ya think I’m gonna be able to walk away from here without one?” he says, indicating the scene before you both. “Just more questions I have to ask,” you tease lightly. Joel shrugs in defeat; rolling his shoulders, your eyes drawn to the sliver of chest hair peeking at you next to the buttons on his shirt. Stop, you remind yourself for the third time.

“It’s Sarah’s birthday soon, and I wanted to make this one special for her,” he confesses, and you hate to say it, but it needs to be done. “Joel.. Can I be frank?” you start, and those eyebrows are raised again. “I thought ya already told me your name, back there,” he points back towards the shelter, trying not to grin. “Funny,” you admit, before pressing on. “We have a lot of families coming through here; wanting to make a birthday or a Christmas special. I’m not doubting your commitment, but I’ve seen too many dogs dumped back at the shelter with little to no explanation after the excitement wears off,” you say, watching Loki snooze on Sarah’s knee whilst Thor tries to pull at the laces on her sneakers.

“Can you see where I’m coming from?” you ask tentatively; hoping not to come off as a total asshole to this man for more reasons than one. Joel exhales heavily, a calloused hand coming up to scrub over his face. He follows your gaze towards his daughter; and it’s then that you notice the true adoration in his eyes - he looks tired; exhausted, even - but the love there. Jeez. It’s really something. It makes you think of the opposite you saw in your own father: a dark road you’d rather not go down.

He begins to tell you it’s the first birthday since Sarah’s mom died after a short illness. They were divorced, but had joint custody, Joel mostly taking over on weekends. He’s trying to nail the whole solo parenting thing - trying, but feeling like he’s failing. He admits regretting not asking his late ex-wife so many things; how to care for their daughter’s hair full time, how to manage to get her to school and then to soccer practice without being late, how to essentially keep her alive, happy, safe. It’s then that you stop him; a gentle hand on his forearm. “I’d say you’re already doing better than you think,” you offer, not shy of your smile this time.

“I don’t know why I’m tellin’ you all of this,” he admits, “ya must just have that kinda face.” And you tell him it’s true; your grandmother always said you were an old soul, with a face people just wanted to open up to with no preamble, no filter. Maybe that’s why you and Mo get along so much, you ponder for a moment. “My mom died, too,” you say quietly, Thor having wandered over to the two of you, sniffing round Joel’s boots before slumping belly-up in the shade. “My dad - he, uh, he wasn’t so great. And not in the way you think you’re not great. He truly was the definition of an asshole,” you try not to shiver, despite the cloudless blue sky above you.

“‘m sorry that happened to ya,” Joel mutters, eyes on his knuckles as they flex instinctively. “It’s okay,” you shrug, “was a long time ago. I had my grandma, we did just fine. If you want my take.. There’s so many lousy parents in this world, and it’s better to have been loved fully, despite the loss that can and will come, than never at all,” you surmise; nodding your head toward his daughter, flat on her back in the grass with Loki on her chest, her eyes closed in a picture of perfect peace. The sight makes you smile.

When you turn to face Joel, you find him looking at you intently, shielding his eyes from the sun with his hand. It’s covered in scars; some faded with time, others fresher, just scabbing over. “I’m gonna ask ya for two chances,” he says, full bottom lip between his teeth. Your head cocks to one side, interest suitably piqued. “Is that so?” you ask, a fluttering in your chest that you can’t quite seem to stall. He nods, and you roll your eyes, biting back a laugh. “One,” he begins, “you give us a shot at this adoption. That girl needs someone else around who ain’t her daddy, and I promise ya I’d do right by that dog,” he points over to Sarah and Loki; his daughter whispering conspiratorially in the puppy’s ear. “I do think we have a winner there,” you admit, hands up in defeat.

“Two,” Joel continues, “could I ask ya on a date, darlin’? Assumin’ you’re not spoken for?” he asks, quieter than before. Almost.. shyly. It seems strange; like a skin he wants to shed, only used to being the most commanding person in the room. “Ya know, to keep an eye on our progress ‘n everythin’,” he adds quickly, before you can open your mouth. You feel your belly squirming at the idea of seeing this man again; your gaze drawn once more to his hands as they brace against the bench, wondering how they’d feel if he cupped your face between them right before he kissed you, then splayed against your ribcage, thumbs just brushing the underside of your breasts..

“Sweetheart?” Joel’s voice jolts you from your reverie, “ya can say no to me, but ‘m afraid you’ll have to be the one tellin’ her,” he whispers, Sarah ambling over to join you both, puppy asleep in her arms. “Do I need to give him back now?” she asks politely, her daddy’s brown eyes blinking at you earnestly. “No, I believe he’s yours to keep, after we do some paperwork,” you grin, “but I might stop by soon to see how he’s getting on. Would that be okay?” you ask, and her face opens up like a butterfly, elation sewn into her features. “Yeah, that would be okay,” she muses shyly as she falls into Joel’s side. He wraps an arm around her, and presses a kiss to her hair. He winks at you, then; and you have a feeling both chances will end up coming good.

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Mr. Munson

Pairings: Older! Eddie Munson x younger fem!reader

Summary: You made a new friend at work, and she invites you over to spend the weekend with her. Her father takes a liking to you, and you find yourself giving him a helping hand late one night.

Warnings Eddie is in his 40s. The reader is in her 20s. Unprotected sex. Back riding (Is that a thing? idk I'm needy)

Not proof read ignore any mistakes

18+ minors do not enter.

Eddie and his daughter have always been close it was just the two of them since she was just a few days old. Her mother, who was also his fiancé decided to pack up in the middle of the night and leave them. There was no explanation why or how to fix things. He tried being the best dad he could for Chelsea. He worked hard, and sometimes he'd even have to bring her with him some days.

Eddie was determined to give his daughter a struggle free life. He was going to become successful no matter what he had to do to get there. Eventually, he did get there when he opened up a mechanic shop in town. Then, eventually, his own record store as well. He became an entrepreneur and made his own schedule.

His daughter never missed out on anything except having a mother in her life. That's one thing Eddie just couldn't succeed in. He tried dating around and having girlfriends. Only bringing them around his baby girl when he felt like it was getting serious. Just his luck, though they never stuck around too, long.

After a while, he gave up only doing casual dating and a hook ups here and there. Eddie being single meant him and his daughter grew a bond he wished others got to have. She was funny and sarcastic, just like him. They both had a twisted sense of humor, so some people got offended when they would hear them go back and forth.

Eddie wouldn't trade it for the world, though. This is why he also has trouble letting her go. He insisted she still live with him while going to college and working. Using the excuse that she should save up her money and move out when she's financially stable. When Chelsea finally got a new job in town and made a friend just a few years older, he didn't think anything of it until when he finally met you.

"Hey, dad, can my friend from work spend the night? " Chelsea asked as she was tossing her bag on the couch.

"You know you're an adult. You don't have to ask permission?" He said, not looking up as he was preparing them dinner. "Yeah, I know, but it's still polite to ask." He smirks when he hears her sarcastic tone while entering the kitchen.

"When is she coming over?"

"This weekend after she gets out of class."

Nodding his head and tossing the knife he used to chop onions in the sink. "That's fine, no boys, though." his daughter rolls her eyes at him. Even though she's an adult, now he's still weary of men in her life. He can be a tad bit over protective, but his heart is in the right place.

That weekend, after you got out of class, you practically ran to your friends car. You can't remember the last time you were this excited for a sleepover. You felt like a teenager all over again. Tossing your bags in the back seat, you jump in, squealing with excitement.

"I can't wait to just have a girls' weekend. I'm so sick of college, " you sigh, throwing your head back into the seat.

Chelsea just laughed at you turning the radio up a little bit. Sleeping with sirens plays softly through the speakers as you both ride through the neighborhood with the windows down. "Hey, my dad will probably be home, but don't worry, he's not like weird or anything. He's cool." Chelsea said over the music playing. Looking over at her, you nod your okay and go back to listening to the music.

Arriving to the Munson residents, you notice a few motorcycles parked in the driveway and a muscle car next to them. Honestly, from what Chelsea has said about her dad, you'd never guess he'd live out in this preppy suburban neighborhood.

They lived in one of those big mcmansions with fountain in the front yard. You felt a little out of place now being here. Chelsea always told you her dad made good money and made sure she had a better life than he did. He spoiled her rotten, and she wasn't afraid to admit it. You never grew up like she did. It was just you and your mom.

Your friend nudges you from your thoughts and pulls you through the front door. Kicking your shoes off to the side. Taking a look around your surroundings, you notice tons of pictures on the walls. Some of just Chelsea as a baby with a curly haired man. You assume that's her dad since he's in almost all of her baby pictures. There were some of him playing with a band on stage, too. He looked like such a fun and energetic guy. You can see why Chelsea loved him so much and always said what a great dad he was to her.

"Dad, are you home?" Chelsea yells in the foyer walking towards the kitchen.

"I'm in here sweet pea" He called back to her.

She motions for you to follow her, and your heart begins to race a little. "Dad this is my friend from work." She said introducing you.

He looks up from his magazine and stares for a moment too long. He licks his lips and extends his arm, going in for a handshake.

"Nice to meet you, sweetheart." He said, looking deeply into your eyes.

"Nice to meet you too, Mr. Munson" you say clearing you throat.

You don't know what it was, but something about the way he's looking at you made you feel funny. Funny in a good way like butterflies in your stomach. After removing your hand from his and introducing yourself, his eyes never once left you. Chelsea finally spoke up, telling you two would be going to her room now. Giving an okay and eyes still lingering on you, taking in every curve on your body, waved you both a goodbye.

"Well, that was not as awkward as I thought it was gonna be" Chelsea said flopping back on her bed.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I don't usually bring friends over often," Chelsea confessed to you.

Eddie had left his magazine behind and headed upstairs, wanting to ask you guys if takeout is alright for dinner. He was really just using it as an excuse to get another look at you, though. He stopped at the door and listened to your conversation. He felt bad for it he had never eavesdropped on his daughter before. He just wanted to hear if maybe you were talking about him.

"If I'm being honest, I think my dad likes you," he heard his daughters muffled voice through the door.

"What makes you think that?" You laugh awkwardly.

"Oh, please, I saw how he was looking at you.

Oh my god, I just had a thought. What if you became my stepmom?" Chelsea kept going on and on.

You look at her with a shocked expression, shaking your head at her being ridiculous.

"I'm like, almost your age chells." You told her trying to act like you didn't want that.

"No listen, that would be so cool you being my stop mom. I've never had one before, and you're my best friend it's a win-win situation." She said, her voice perking up more.

"Yeah, until I like have to bang him"

"Oh please, so what l mean yeah, it would be a little awko taco at first, but I'll get over it. Besides, he needs to get some," she said, laughing at her own joke.

"Chelsea, I really don't want to talk about me banging your dad with you," you told her, hoping to change the conversation.

Eddie slowly backs away from the door and sneaks back downstairs. He wasn't offended by what his daughter was saying. That was her sense of humor, and he loved it.

Later that night, you try to sneak downstairs for a glass of water. Going to open the cabinet, the kitchen light suddenly cuts on, causing you to jump. Turning around quickly to see who's behind you, you see him. He's standing with arms crossed over his bare tattooed chest. Leaning against the wall, he's giving you that look again.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Munson if I woke you."

He doesn't say anything back he's just staring at you with a smirk slowly creeping up on his face.

"It's okay, sweetheart. I was already awake. I'm having some back pain." He finally spoke up.

He moves away from the wall and slowly makes his way to stand in front of you."Do I make you nervous?" He whispers in your ear. Moving to look back at your face, you don't say anything. You just nod your head, yes, which earns you a soft chuckle from the older man. He rubs his scruffy beard and backs away to sit at the counter.

"There is nothing to be nervous about."

You still don't move from the place you've been standing in. You finally speak up trying to ease the tension in the room.

"Why is your back hurting? Did you pull something?"

He looks up at you with a smile. He jesters for you to get closer to him. "Can you help me with something?"

"Sure." You say as he grabs your hand, gently leading you down a dark hallway. He opens his door and motions for you to enter first.

Noticing this is his bedroom, you turn quickly to face him. He told his hands up, showing you he means no harm. "I was just wondering if you could rub my back is all." He said, sitting at the edge of his king-sized bed.

"Um, okay, what do you want me to do?" You aks him nervously.

He gets up and gets some massage oil from his large black dresser. He tosses it to you and goes to lay on his stomach. You move slowly and sit on the side of his bed, almost hanging off. "It would be better if you kinda straddle my back," nodding okay. You move to straddle his back, cursing yourself for wearing a night gown.

"Squirt some oil all over my back and pay close attention to my shoulders, sweetheart"

You pour a little too much of the oil on his back and begin to knead his tense muscles. Eddie, let's out low groan and shifts slightly, making his back put some added pressure on your clothed cunt. You continue kneading his shoulders and in between his shoulder blades.

Eddie moans loud at your skilled fingers, easing his tense muscles. His back is so slippery from the oil that it's hard to steady yourself on him without sliding around. The more you move around on him, the more your aching cunt begs for more. The way he's moaning is going right to your core, and you're thankful he won't notice the wet patch on your panties.

He lifts his hips and flexes his muscles underneath you. You bite your lip to stifle a moan at the friction. "You okay back there?" his voice makes you jump. "Im okay," you say a little too quickly. He smiles to himself, knowing exactly what's going on back there. He speaks up again,

"Take your panties off" he says with his low husky voice.

"What? Um, I don't think -" You try to argue, but he cuts you off. "Take them off and take care of yourself while you take care of me,"

He commands while reaching back and patting your thigh. You do as you're told and remove them, lowering your core against him. "Put more oil down, sweetheart, so you can glide around." He bites his lip, and you begin to pour more oil down his back.

The feeling makes him groan louder, and he jerks his hips back against you, causing you to whimper. Your needy pussy is practically crying out for you to grind on him. Spreading your legs a little wider so you can be closer to him. You begin to slowly move your hips in a circular motion on his back. Grinding yourself on him giving your aching pussy exactly what it needs.

Your breathing is becoming shallow, and you start moving back and forth against him a little harder. He shifts ever so slightly while you grind yourself on him, causing more friction on your pussy. Throwing your head back, you let out a loud moan while you use his back to get you off.

You begin to rock and back forth faster the wet slick noise of your wet pussy and oil mixing together makes Eddie's cock painfully hard. He can feel your thighs flex and squeeze at his sides. He can tell you're getting close. "Come on baby, use me, go faster."

"That's a good girl." You move to lean back and rest your hands on his ass. Grinding down harder on him, you feel a tightness in your core beginning to build.

"Mmmm, I'm gonna getting close, Mr. Munson" You moan out, voice sounding so needy.

"That's okay baby come on me. let your pussy soak my back" You move to lean forward gripping his shoulders as you grind down on him. You can feel it building up more, and you're getting closer to your release. You begin to practically bounce on him until your legs start to shake and your eyes roll to the back of your head.

You bend forward, pressing your fourhead to the back of his neck crying out for him. You try to continue grinding on him to help ride out your orgasm. "Fuuuuck, I'm coming." You say finally collapsing and rolling off him. Your clit is pulsing at the intensity of your orgasm.

Eddie turns over to check on you and taps your cheek lightly with the palm of his hand. "You with me, baby?" Your eyes slowly open, and you look him in the eyes. He smiles down at you and shifts up on his knees. He starts to take off his sweat pants, stopping for a moment. "Is this okay? "Do you want to continue?" He asks you with genuine concern.

"Please fuck me I need you." Biting your lower lip.

He grins wide and grips his thick cock in his hands. You move to sit up a bit and remove your night gown, licking your lips when you see drops of precum leaking from his angry pink tip. You lay back down, and Eddie moves to position himself between your legs. He rubs the head of his cock at your tight entrance and curses under his breath.

He slowly sinks himself inside you inch by inch slowly spreading you open around him. Both of you throw your heads back, letting out a soft groan. "Fuck" He whispers to himself. Moving, he leans over you, hooking your leg over his arm while the other is his around his waist. He starts pulling in and out of you painfully slow. You move your head to the side, and Eddie takes the opportunity to attack the soft flesh on your throat.

He starts thrusting into you faster, making your tits bounce in his face. He bends down, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth sucking hard. He bites down a little, making you scream out. His cock is pumping into you so hard and you swear you've never felt this full before in your life. Looking you down you try to see him fucking into you.

"Does my girl wanna watch herself get fucked?" He said in your ear before nipping at it.

"Yes, please,"

He laughs, and let's go of your leg moving to kneel on the bed. He takes the back of your head and holds it steady so you can watch his cock spread your pussy open. "You like that, huh?" All you could do was moan in response. Eddie begins fucking you hard and you swear you can see his cock buldge in your stomach. That tight feeling in your core is returning, and you know you won't last much longer.

"Please make me come again. I'm so close. Please, Mr. Muson"

He moves his hand from your head to play with your clit. He rubs your sensitive bud in tight circles until you start squirming under him.

"You're so wet and so fucking tight" He said clenching his teeth.

He begins to rub your clit faster and your pussy clenches around him. Eddie throws his head back at the feeling of you around him. He doesn't stop playing with your bundle of nerves between your legs until it has you shaking beneath him. Your second orgasm washes over you so intensely that you claw at his back.

Eddie can feel himself getting closer, too, with every stroke of his cock. The bed squeaking, and the sound of your wet pussy being fucked is the only thing filling your ears. You can feel Eddie's cock twitch inside of you and with a few more powerful strokes he's spilling his cum all inside your velvety walls. He let's out a long, loud moan. you have never before heard a man be this vocal before.

He stills for a moment, catching his breath and slowly pulls out of your sore pussy making his cum leak out. He rolls over onto his back and lets out a breathy laugh rubbing his face. You look over at him, wondering what was so funny.

"Fuck I haven't came that hard in so long." He confessed breaking the silence.

"Me either." You agreed.

He moves and grabs your face, gently giving you a soft and gentle kiss to the lips.

"Does your back feel better, at least? " You asked him shyly.

"Oh sweetheart, my back feels like a million bucks, sweetheart."

[augustghosts]

Plastic Trees

Tommy Miller x Fem!reader

Ok, I’m sooo nervous to post this lmao. I’ve convinced myself that it sucks. This isn’t everyone's cup of tea so make sure you read the warnings! I did the classic me thing by wanting to get right into the story, so there isn’t much of a backstory here but I have future chapters planned (and may have already started writing them) if anyone is interested. So let me know if you enjoy and want more <3 Thank you for reading!

Word Count: 3.4k

Warning: 18+! This isn’t proof read so lmk if u spot any dire mistakes. Kidnapping duh, kind of dark!tommy i guess? Or maybe just very ooc. guns and swearing and all that typical tlou stuff. Reader is an adult, obviously. Handjob, slight voyeurism, face fucking.

This is the worst part. Night time, or at least she thought it was night time. The countdown to morning, wondering if they will even come back down. Wondering if this was the night they pack up and leave, leaving her to die alone down here. The basement was always dark, day or night. But these next few hours were the worst, it would get quiet. No footsteps or shouting. Only a few steps every now and then of whoever was up to keep watch while everyone else slept.

She knew who was on watch tonight, it must be Tommy. She knows this now, she's been down here long enough to know their patterns. She knows it’s Tommy because every hour or so the footsteps sound above her and a shadow appears at the basement door. It lingers for a while and then retreats. She wonders what he thinks, is he toying with her? Is he just trying to listen? See what she’s doing? Or, does his hand linger over the door knob, does he ever think about coming down? Does he ever think about letting her out?

She’s convinced that he does. Or maybe she’s convinced herself that to make herself feel better, either way - Tommy is different. He has softer eyes than his brother. He asks her if she’s okay, despite her answer always being something along the lines of go fuck yourself. Tommy is the only one who actually told her his name. His brother Joel, she only knows after hearing Tommy say it. All of this - Tommy looking at her sweetly and sneaking her extra food is what led to this. She's crouched at the bottom of the stairs. Tommy’s silhouette is lingering by the door. A few seconds and he retreats. His footsteps echo above her, getting quieter as he reaches the other side of the house. Her heart is hammering in her chest, her blood rushing as she steps up onto the first stair. The wood creaks under her, the same way it does when one of them walks down them. She cringes - she listens. When she hears nothing above her, she takes a chance and steps up onto the next one.

She knows the door isn’t locked. The world was years into an apocalypse, this house is run down. The closest thing they had to a lock was making her believe there was someone on the other side 24/7. And usually, there was. Until night, she guesses they think she's asleep - so they would wander around the house. They go stand by the front door instead, keeping watch.

As she ascends the steps, Tommy is above her. Leaning against the dirty kitchen counter. His gun on the old marble in front of him. Easy job, my ass, he thinks. The day he stops listening to Joel is the day he will know peace. Kidnapping someone, locking them in a basement and waiting to hand her off to a group of fuckers who are planning to do god knows what. This is not an easy job. As if to illustrate his point, a gust of wind blows over the house and it creaks. The shitty windows sound awful as the rain pounds against it. Fuck this. He wants to go home. He straightens up and swings his gun back in over his shoulder, planning to do another lap of the house as boredom takes over him.

He freezes as he hears a familiar squeak. It’s not the house this time, it’s those damn noisy basement stairs. He walks slowly, quietly - and peeks around the corner down the hallway. The door is closed. He peeks round into what used to be the living room of this house, Joel and the rest of their group are asleep on the floor and on various old couches. He’s still frozen in place, listening. Another creak echoes from the hallway. He creeps closer, obviously more stealthy than the person on the stairs. Another creak as they reach the top stair, he knows the sound is more hollow than the rest of the stairs. He dips into another room as the basement door handle begins to turn slowly. Her hesitation is obvious, the door is opened slowly - she’s slow, not wanting it to make too much of a noise.

She looks out into the hallway, holy shit - it’s empty. She can see the front door from where she’s standing. She knows the lounge is on the left, and she knows they’re all in there. She can hear the rain and wind up here too. Shit, she’s wearing a shitty pair of jeans and a t-shirt. The same thing she had been wearing since they snatched her up. She opens the door wider and takes a step out, the house is silent. Where the fuck did Tommy go? She takes a few more quiet steps, excitement building inside of her. Excitement to feel the rain and wind on her skin. Excitement to go home.

Her pathetic excitement turns to pure fear and adrenaline as she hears the familiar click of a shotgun beside her. As she passes a dark room on the right of her, a cold metal barrel is pressed to the side of her head. Her hands instinctively rise up, surrender.

“Turn around.” Tommy’s familiar voice - he’s quiet, trying not to wake the others. Her hand flexes at her side, contemplating grabbing the gun. What would she do with it? She has no fucking clue. But she’s so close to the front door.

“Don’t.” He says. “Just turn around.”

“Please, Tommy.” She tries. Her voice was shaking. He almost felt bad. She turned to look at him, face to face with the gun aimed at her head.

“Please what?” He’s still whispering. His voice was deeper than usual when he did.

“Let me go.”

“Yeah, right. Turn around.” He scoffs. Stepping out into the hallway and blocking her way. He’s much taller than her, his height is intimidating as he towers over her, crowding her back down into the basement. She takes a few steps back as he takes a few forward.

“The door is right there. You- you could let me go.” She tries to bargain as he continues to walk forwards, forcing her to walk back into the doorway.

“Oh yeah? And then what? I’m supposed to be on watch, so you escaping is my fault. Then you die out there and we don’t get paid.”

“Please i-“ She starts again, resorting back to pleading with him. She’s so worked up she forgets about the steps. Tommy stops her before she can fall backwards, his large hands reaching around her waist. He’s in charge now, he’s standing in the doorway holding her above the stairs. Blocking her exit, and if he lets go of her - she falls. She’s looking up at him, her eyes big and tearful. Fear evident on her face. Her hands are tightly gripping the front of his jacket, trying to steady herself.

“What now princess?” He says, his voice rumbles.

“Hm?” He prompts as she doesn’t reply. She’s honestly at a loss for words. She’s not sure if it’s because this is not what she planned, or wether is being so close to him like this.

“Are you gonna be good?” He asks. She hates the way her stomach stirs. She wants nothing more than to push him away. “Are you gonna go back down? You don’t have many options.”

She continues to stare at him, weighing her options. She looks at the door behind him and he smirks, an idea popping into his head. He pretends to let her go, one of his arms dropping away from her and slapping over her mouth when she almost screams - thinking he’s about to let her fall down the stairs.

He hauls her up and presses her against the wall, his hand still covering her mouth- the other one gripping her hip tightly. Her hands are still twisted into his jacket, her knuckles turning white. She’s crying now, sobbing behind his hand. Fuck, he was enjoying this.

“I’m going to ask you again.” He whispers. “Are you gonna be a good girl and go back downstairs?”

Her eyes are wide, tears hitting his hand as they fall. She nods slowly, trying to ignore the heat growing between her legs. God, she wishes she had met him in a different situation. He was so beautiful. His dark eyes bore into hers before they flickered downwards. He watches her chest heaving, he feels her eyes on his face and he knows she can feel him. His body is pressed against hers, trapping her against the wall, so he knows she can feel his cock hardening against her.

He lets go of her mouth, bringing his hand down to her throat instead. He leans in, his lips inches from hers. She can feel his breath on her lips but she doesn’t dare move. Fuck, she can’t deny that she wants him to kiss her. Would he let her go if she fucked him? She decides to take her chances. She slowly unwraps her hands from the collar of his jackets. She presses her palms against his chest, for a second he thinks she’s going to try to push him away and he prepares himself to grab her wrists. But his breathing hitches as her hands travel down his stomach and pause at the hem of his shirt.

She looks up at him with the most innocent look she can muster, she searches his eyes for any anger or resistance. He’s doing the same to her, his eyes urging her to carry on. She feels his stomach flex as she slowly lets her hands travel underneath the fabric. How long has it been since someone has touched him? It’s been a while since someone has touched her - just his hand around her neck right now is setting her on fucking fire.

His hand tightens around her throat as she unbuckles his belts and dips her hand into his jeans. Feeling him over his underwear first. Stroking him with a feather light touch. He leans in to press his mouth to her jaw, a quiet moan leaves her lips and she swears she can feel his cock twitch.

“Get on with it.” He mumbles against her skin. Trying to resist biting down into her flesh, not wanting the other guys to see any marks. The other guys - who are only around the corner. If any of them were to wake up and look over here they would see them. Fuck, that turned her on. She hates it.

She reaches into his underwear and grips him tightly. “You're not gonna be gentle with me baby?” He hisses beside her ear, she can hear the smirk in his voice, she feels his lips brushing the shell of her ear.

“What do you want me to do?” She whispers, her hand begins to move, jerking him off slowly. He smells like leather and sweat, she whimpers as her clothed tits press against his chest. His nipples are hard and aching.

“Fuck.” He moans into her ear. His hand flexes on her throat before he shocks her by letting go and straightening up. “Get on your knees.”

“Okay.” She mumbles, slowly kneeling down on the dirty floor. The floorboard creaks underneath her and they both freeze for a second. His hands stop in the middle of pushing his jeans down. They both look down the hallway and listen for a second. When they hear nothing- the house is still silent, he continues. Pulling his jeans down just enough to pull his cock out.

Tommy almost feels guilty as she kneels down in front of him. Almost. His cock is so fucking hard and aching that he can’t help himself. He reaches for the back of her head, guiding her mouth towards his length. He can’t help but think about how fucking jealous Joel would be. He’d expressed his attraction to her when they had picked her up, joking about keeping her the group they were waiting for never came.

He almost explodes as she takes his tip into her mouth, swirling her tongue around his slit. Fuck, it really had been a while. But honestly, they didn’t have time for this. Anyone could wake up at any second and all he wanted was to come down her throat. He grasps her hair at the back of her head and pushes her head down until he feels her gag around him. And she lets him. Fuck, she was perfect.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck.” He mumbles through gritted teeth. As she works up a rhythm, sucking him off as best as she can when his hand is still on the back of her head. Applying pressure to stop her from pulling completely away. Tommy is biting his fist to keep himself quiet, his other hand has a painful grip on her hair. He keeps glancing down the hallway, eventually deciding she isn’t being quick enough.

“You’re mouth is amazing, sweetheart.” He whispers as he grasps both sides of her face. He lets her pull away for a second - she knows what he’s about to do. “But, we gotta hurry up.”

He’s already close. His dick hasn’t had anything but his own hand for a long time and the sight of her allowing him to fuck her face has his balls clenching. She has her palms on his thighs, letting him hold her head and thrust in and out of her mouth at his own pace. And his own pace is a rough one. She’s still crying, but now it’s the feeling of his tip hitting the back of her throat that’s producing the tears. Him using her mouth to get off, she swears she’s never been this turned on in her life.

It’s so fucking wrong. This is one of the men who has had her locked in a basement purely for his own gain for the past couple of weeks. But as she looks up at him, his face flushed, his teeth biting down on his lip as he roughly fucks her face in a disgusting basement - she can’t help but hope he keeps her for himself. She thinks about running away with him. She thinks about him taking her away from all this, ditching his brother and their money and taking her out into the world. She thinks about how he looks pointing his gun at her, how he would look pointing it at someone else to protect her.

She moans around him at the thought, her hand coming down and pressing between her own legs - her jeans stopping her from getting herself off. Her hand eventually goes to her breast instead. Between the sight of her desperately trying to touch herself and the way she moaned around his cock, Tommy is done for. He pauses, forcing her as far down his cock as she can go as he comes down her throat. She feels every drop as it hits the back of her mouth. He pulls his cock out of her mouth but is quick to bring his fingers to her chin, forcing her mouth shut.

“Swallow it.” He says. She does as she’s told. He lets go of her chin when he feels her swallow. She practically collapses backwards, sitting in front of him and breathing heavily. He tucks himself back into his jeans before he crouches down in front of her.

“Shhh. You did good, baby.” He whispers. He caresses her cheek. She looks beautiful like this. She swears she can see the change in his face, his eyes soften and he stands up and holds out his hands. She looks from his palms to his face a few times before it clicks, oh. She takes his hands and lets him help her up. The feeling of him holding her hands making her knees feel like buckling again.

“This doesn’t mean I’m gonna let you go.” He says, his grip tightening on her hands.

“I figured.” She nods,her voice slightly hoarse. But suddenly, she feels like she doesn’t want to go. She pulls her hands from his and turns to walk down the stairs. He stops her before he can descend them with a hand on her shoulder. He backs her up against the wall again and she gasps as he slips his hand into her jeans.

“Shit, did sucking me off get you this wet?” He asks, he’s only tracing her pussy through her panties but he can feel the wet spot she’d created. He can feel the heat radiating off of her and he swears he could get hard again.

“I asked you a question.” He says when she whimpers in response.

“Y-yes.” She moans lightly as he traces her clit through the fabric.

“You want me to touch you?”

She bites back a snarky comment of you already are and just nods instead.

“Please, Tommy. Please touch me.” She asks him sweetly.

“Since you were so good for me, i guess you deserve it.” He says. He leans in closer to her face, god - he wants to kiss her. He knows it’s a bad idea but when she leans up to meet him halfway he can’t help himself. Their lips are practically touching, softly brushing against each other - a moan leaving her mouth as he presses harder on her clit, beginning to move his finger in slow, tight circles.

As he’s about to commit and push his tongue into her mouth, some fucker moves in the other room. The sound of shuffling and someone standing to their feet has him ripping his hand out from between her legs. She’s frozen in place for a second, disappointed and shocked. Tommy is picking his gun back up and whispering Go to her and it jumps her into action. She scurries down the stairs as fast as she can, not missing the way he sucks the finger that had been touching her into his mouth.

“You good, Tommy?” A male voice calls down the hall.

“Yeah. Everything is fine.” The other man looks at him standing in the basement doorway and then looks into the darkness of the basement behind him.

“Everything okay with her?” The man asks.

“Yeah.” Tommy answers. “I thought I heard her moving around. But everythings fine. She’s asleep.”

The man nods and asks: “You wanna switch?”

Tommy nods and hands his gun over. He needs a fucking nap after that. He needed to think. He watches as the man approaches the basement door. A weird protectiveness washing over him. Shit, this isn’t good. He can’t afford to have a soft spot for her. He snaps out of it and takes the man's place on the couch. The couch is dusty and creaks underneath him and he sighs. He thinks about how the people who had hired them to collect here were supposed to be arriving tomorrow.

Below him in the basement, she’s thinking about it too. As she lays down to sleep, she hopes that Tommy will save her - hopes that he won’t let it happen. That he will sweep her off of her feet and carry her away. Hours later, she’s still hoping. A few minutes ago she had been awoken by yelling and gunshots. She’d been curled up in the corner ever since. Waiting, listening. The basement door swings open and she squeezes her eyes shut as loud footsteps tumble down towards her. Honestly, maybe this was a better end than whatever the people who had hired her to be captured had in mind.

“Hey! It’s me.” Her eyes shoot open, Tommy is standing above her looking even more disheveled than he did last night. He’s breathing heavily - his words rushed.

“What’s happening?” She asks. Tommy looks back up the stairs before extending his gloved hand to her.

“Get up. We need to go. Right fucking now.”

[zcorners120]

the bracelet was so good ! i was wondering if you were going to make a pt 2 maybe with some drivers reactions ?

ty! ofc i will <;3 PART ONE MASTER LIST

arthur leclerc x fem!reader

The bracelet {two}

synopsis; Arthur's lucky bracelet was found on his sworn enemy's wrist after her extreme crash, what do people think?

warnings; 18+ S M U T, edging, unprotected sex, oral!male receiving, swearing, orgasm denial!male

Buried in the mountain of comforters, pillows, blankets and duvets, you felt your mum's hand brush your face softly.

"Mama, I promise you I'm fine." You whined, getting hot and feeling sticky against the layers.

"No Y/N, you are not fine mijn lieveling. I saw you come out of the fire so you need to rest." Her Dutch accent prominent, as she turns around to see Max and your dad walk in.

"Sophie, she's fine. The champ walked out without harm." Your dad beamed proudly, much to your mother's tutting dismay.

You looked down onto your phone and checked the F3 group chat as you haven't been on there since the crash.

F3 FUCKERS

Bearman

UHM Y/N WEARING ARTH'S BRACELET!?

Colapinto

Holy shit !?

Saucy

Congrats Arth, u did it bud

The messages didn't end from everyone talking and sending clips of the crash, as well as the paparazzi pictures of the bracelet. You decided to send a message for peace of mind.

F3 FUCKERS

Yes, you're all correct to worship me because

of my cool crash.

{Y/N has sent an attachment.}

You sent a picture of the bracelet on your wrist just to stir things up, you liked the overreactions from them. As you slowly saw all of them open the picture, the notifications wouldn't stop rolling in as you smile at your phone.

"Well since she's fine I guess I can ask the question of; why the hell is Arthur Leclerc's bracelet on your wrist?" Max butts in, getting increasingly mad at the end of his question.

Your eyes widened as he carefully takes your wrist, analysing the bracelet.

"He gave it to me. So I wouldn't get into another accident." You said blankly, not to arouse suspicion.

"That's very kind of him sweetie." Sophie said politely, exiting the room with Jos behind her.

They were more focused on Max's career, with him being in F1 they found to prioritise him more. You didn't mind it, as you didn't have as much pressure with their peery eyes, and they didn't recognise apprehensive things like you and Arthur.

"Even though mama and pa don't know how weird this is, I do as I pay attention to who you're with in paddocks. You and Arthur hate each other, why has he given you his beloved bracelet?" Max conspired, sitting down next to you on your bed.

"Did you see the article about Arthur punching a reporter?" You spoke, watching as Max slowly nodded his head. "He did it for me, there's a video somewhere of him asking me creepy questions and he helped me."

"So he's doing my job of protecting you?" He shot, taking offense.

"Max, I'm 19. And us hating each other was a huge misunderstanding, he explained that he actually likes me but the same reporter spread lies about me to him." You explained, rambling on.

"Wait, wait. He likes you? Snoepje, there is no way that's happening." He ignored the vital context behind the potential relationship and took the affirmative role of the over protective older brother.

"Well isn't it good for you that we don't live together anymore, and I'm an adult." You teased, sticking your tongue out to annoy him.

"I can stay here as long as necessary, maybe even live here part time whilst we're both in race season and I can-" He drawls, finding an excuse to split you two apart, as you tune his voice out.

The notification buzzed against your arm, like a victory tune to escape Max.

Arthur Leclerc

Still on for tonight? :)

You smiled in the spotlight of your phone screen, thinking of how to reply before the phone gets snatched out of your grasp.

"You're going out with him?" He dramatically gasps, as he starts frolicking around your room in shock.

"Give me back my phone!" You shout, jumping up from the bed to chase him.

"Ahhh! Mama she's hurting me!" He shrieks, instantly giving you memories from when you used to live together as kids and constantly bicker.

You managed to corner him and snatch the phone back, smiling victorious. He prances off to tell Mama and Pa that you were meeting him, telling on you like an 8 year old would.

Arthur Leclerc

Still on for tonight? :)

Yep! Where we going?

You anxiously wait for a response, as you hear the echoes of Max complaining to Mama and Pa.

Arthur Leclerc

Still on for tonight? :)

Yep! Where we going?

Le Louis XV-Alain Ducasse, I'll pick you up at 7.

'Holy shit. That's one of the fanciest restaurants in Monaco, and he's taking me there for a first date?' You thought to yourself, how rich is he?

Arthur Leclerc

See you then. ;)

It was already 4, so you headed straight into the shower and started getting ready for the night.

You decided to wearing a stunning silk gown in which the bodice was a corset. It wasn't too casual, but not too much for a first date which you found perfect.

Clipping the backing of your earring, you hear the doorbell ring to which your mother immediately jumps at.

"Ms Kumpen, it's a pleasure to see you." You heard Arthur's deep voice say from the other room, probably followed with a handful of hugs.

You walk out into the living room just as Pa was introducing himself.

"Good evening Cherie." Arthur greets, taking your hand and kissing the top of it gracefully as you blush.

"Good evening." You hushed, smiling like a schoolgirl.

"I got flowers for you and your mother." He said before turning around, and gracing the both of you with two huge bouquets from the best florist in Monte Carlo.

"Thank you so much Arth." You praised, you and your mother pulling him into a hug.

"Alright, Leclerc too much touching." Max says, bursting in from some room.

"Max, pleas-" You tried to stop him, embarrassed.

"No. You hurt her Leclerc, I swear to God you better start prayi-" He threatened, mean whilst Arthur looked unphased.

You clung onto Arthur's arm, backing him into the apartment hallway.

"Alright, we're gonna go, bye!" You rushed, making a beeline to elevator.

"Okay, we're going back to the hotel! Have fun!" Mama called out.

You made some polite small talk as you walk into the grand reception of your apartment complex, the large chandelier casting great mood lighting before you walk out into the swarm of paparazzi flashes.

"Y/N, are you and Arthur dating now?"

"What happened to hating each other?"

You managed to escape the questions right as Arthur opened his car door for you and driving off.

"You look beautiful, mon ange." He admits, resting his large hand on your thigh.

"You look pretty handsome yourself." You laugh, watching as his other hand calmly steers alone.

His thumb slowly circled your thigh, watching as you bit your lip in anticipation.

"Don't bite your lip. That's my job." He spoke, winking as he watched your cheeks blush a deep red.

'So, this is the mood for the night? No problem.' You thought to yourself, conjuring up lots of different plans on how he'll be yours by the end of the night.

"Yeah? Will I get to see you do that job?" You tease, watching as he lost focus of the road ahead, and looked you straight in the eyes.

"A true gentleman never says." He met your level, still looking at you as he gradually sped up on the road.

His suit fit him perfectly, his shirt hiding his perfectly sculpted abs as you could see the veins that were adorning his hand gliding up and down your thigh.

"Eyes on the road, playboy." You broke eye contact, looking ahead of you to see some oncoming traffic.

"Do you not trust me?" His accent stated, low and powerful.

"I do, but not when you're not looking at the road." You said, looking at him to realise he never stopped analysing you.

He swerved the car in front of him perfectly, as your breath hitches. You grabbed the hand that was resting on your thigh, as he looked back onto the road to ease your worries.

"Is that how you impress all the girls that come into your car?" You giggled, wondering if you were right or not.

"No. They don't get treated like you do, you're different than them and I can feel that." He confessed, right as he pulled up to the valet, leaving you speechless.

He opened the door for you and held your hand out, muttering an incoherent word of gratitude for the man taking the keys.

"Good evening sir, do you have a reservation with us?" The woman behind the desk spoke, pushing her chest forward as she played with her hair.

"Leclerc. 7 o'clock." He said stiffly, looking at his watch for the time.

"Okay Mr Leclerc, I'll be with you in a second to bring you to your table." She got up slowly, winking at him, completely dismissing that you were next to him.

Her attempt at seducing him was pathetic, swinging her hips as she went to the waiter. You shot her a glance that could kill, as Arthur laughs.

"Jealous there, Amor?" He smiled proudly, snaking a hand around your waist as he pulled you in close.

"Nope." You denied, remaining stubborn as the receptionist came back and asked the two of you to follow her.

"Your waiter will be with you shortly, enjoy." She put a hand on Arthur's shoulder before walking off.

You scoff, thinking it's unbelievable to do such a thing in front of you.

The waiter eventually came as you both ordered some wine, to which Arthur argued and got one of the most expensive bottles in the restaurant.

"Should I start expecting a second date here Mr Leclerc?" You joked, swirling the wine glass with the magical alcohol.

"You should start expecting hundreds more." He laughed, drinking some wine out of his glass, as you both waited for your meals.

"I'll have to thank you some way for this then." You teased, taking the risk as you glide your foot onto his leg, watching his breath hitch.

"I think you've already got your own idea hm?" He breathed out, struggling to concentrate under your touch.

"I can think of a couple ways." You said seductively, as you both began to play footsies under the table like 15 year olds.

Your meals arrived, expensive and of course tiny, but you didn't mind if you were getting into some funny business later.

"Arth?" You grab his attention as you both finish your dinner, taking a sip of wine.

"Hmm?" He hums, looking at you with adoration in his eyes.

"How about we skip dessert here, and you can have it at your apartment?" You suggest cautiously, holding his hand to make sure your insinuations have gotten across clearly.

You watched as his eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his cheeks become a cute wine stain as his freckles stood out amongst it.

"Oh shit, absolutely. Can I get the cheque?" You giggled as he hurries the waiter over and pays straight away, despite you wanting to split it.

"No time for splitting when we have something more important to attend to." He rushed, calmly getting you inside the car and hopped over to get the keys from the valet.

He once again had his protective hand on your thigh whilst speeding down the Monegasque highway. You watched as his hand slowly got higher and higher, before you put a stop to it.

"Oh, sorry. Are you sure you want to do this?" He immediately recoils, thinking he did something wrong.

You just hum a hushed 'mhm', before putting a hand directly on the growing tent in his trousers.

He gulped loudly, letting you slowly unzip his trousers and pulling down the waistband of his boxers to reveal his hard cock, standing tall.

He smirks as he feels you stop in shock, his ego definitely getting a boost. To stop him from getting the confidence up even more, you run your thumb over his slit, immediately hearing him gasp slightly.

His cock pulsated as you took it in your mouth, leaning over the console area of the car. You took all that you could of him in your mouth, using your hand to satisfy whatever left as you slightly gagged.

Pulling back up, you spat on his cock, working your hand up and down, feeling the veins flex against your palm. You go back down, feeling him take a hand in your softly and guide you.

"Merde, tu vas si bien mon amour." You heard him whimper, as he carried on murmuring sweet nothings in French.

"Je suis si proche putain.." He started loosing attention on the road as you were pleasuring him so well, that you decided to pull up.

He was close, and made it abundantly clear as his tip started leaking small drops of precum. You leaned back into your seat, and straightened your dress, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"I was close Amor, why tease me like this?" He complained, looking at his throbbing cock in desperation.

"You can wait till we're home." You teased, loving the control.

"That's pretty unfair, no? Just you wait to see how I'll handle you." He said lowly, and that got you pretty excited as he zipped himself back up.

Arriving at the apartment he opened the door for you into the living room, immediately picking you up into the bedroom.

"Arth, put me down!" You laughed, him carrying you like a piece of paper.

"We'll see who's whimpering now." Dropping you gently on the bed, he took off your heels and starting kissing his way around your body, finishing by kissing you directly.

Unzipping your dress, he revealed an amazing set of red lace lingerie you put on just in case, as you internally thanked yourself.

"Even got my colour on for me huh?" He licked his lips, taking his shirt off and flexing his delicious muscles. As he took off his clothes and was left in his boxers, he sat on the bed and pulled you directly on top of him.

He pulled you in for a kiss, your tongues battling for dominance as he won, with you moaning into his mouth, only getting him more excited.

You grinded against his erection, as he pulled away from your mouth and attacked your neck, finding your sweet spot straight away as he started marking his girl. Sucking and biting, he left a nice bruise just to show everyone who's you were.

He flipped you over, caging you in with his veiny arms as he kissed your breasts, sucking on your nipples as he went further and further down.

"You want this right ange?" He asked again, making sure you completely approved.

"Mhm, so shut up and fuck me." You were desperate, watching as he immediately ripped off your panties, chucking them away as they were in shreds.

"Arthhh, they cost so much!" You whimpered, watching as he looked at you with a blank expression.

"It was worth it for this view. I'll buy you every lingerie store in Monte Carlo for all I care." He blurted, leaning over to his wallet.

You watched confused, wondering what he was doing, until he pulled out a silver packet and his debit card.

"Pin is 2957." He snarled, slotting the card into your bra as he opens the condom packet.

You looked at him shocked, but your mouth truly dropped when he quickly inserted his thick and lengthy cock directly into you, without warning. You both moan out at the stretch, feeling every inch slowly go in.

"Ohh shit." You moan out, as he slams back into you, watching as his eyes shut.

"Tu es si serré." He groaned out, as he flipped you over into doggy, smacking your ass before he set a steady pace with his cock slamming into your wet cunt.

He started going harder and harder as you couldn't keep your moaning under control, hearing the headboard slam against his wall.

"I'm so close Arth." You squealed out, as his balls smacked against you fast and hard.

You felt his hand snake around your stomach with his long fingers rub your clit in just the right way. You felt yourself let go, as your legs shook uncontrollably, gracing you with the best orgasm you'd ever had.

"Let it go, ma belle." He said, fucking into you faster than imaginable.

Squeezing your eyes shut you could see stars, as you could feel his thrusts becoming sloppier. Your hole pulsated against his cock, as you turned around and let him cum in your mouth.

His cum splattered on your tongue in sporadic bursts, as he moaned your name. Looking at you on your knees with his cum in your mouth, he couldn't control himself.

You licked it all up with your one finger, making eye contact with him as you lay back against his bed. He got up and got a towel and cleaned both of you up immediately.

"Shit, that was so good Cherie." He praised you, as he passed you one of his tops before getting under the duvet.

"I could say the same Artie." You hushed out, your eyes getting heavy as he pulls you in to spoon you.

He hugs you from behind and doesn't let his arm move from where he's draped it over your stomach, protectively.

A/N; i havent checked this over so hopefully it's alright lmao, don't think ive written the smut too well but if you want me to change anything or add something on then message me!

[faultlinescrew]

Spitfire, Sophia getting a better story, fucking up nazis and cool gasmasks? Sign me the fuck up i am so down for this you have no idea.

The Arrows created by @nonplatonicsubtext, and i will make more art in return for more lore on these three and Charlotte Design notes and hcs under the cut

(if any of these dont fit please feel free to disregard them :] i am just 'yes and-ing' here)

Spitfire: - I have five different designs for her i rotate through depending on how im feeling, so i went for the one that would best fit for this au - In canon shes one of the younger members of palinquin (in my hcs she is the youngest) and pretty timid, so plays more of a support role, in this shes a more a frontline fighter, so natrually, more scars - ^ and i like the idea of her getting burnt by her own powers (not canonly fireproof and all) - many thoughts about her you have no idea - having more of a spine is a good thing, but it is also causing her so much stress - went for a more assymetrical design partly for the lack of resources due to her not ending up taking any teams offer, parlty bc i thought it looked fuckin sick - very curious as to why she turned down faultline - was homeless (i belive this for a number of reasons), her and Apsis are crashing in some abandoned basement somewhere Morrigan: - I dont really have much to say, i am so hyped to watch her be rescued from her original narrative and i want to make art for it - n0brainjustvibes prowler!sophia design is so good it rewrote my brain entirely, shes ourple now - your (nonplatonicsubtexts) description for her costume was so vivid i just picked it up and threw it at the drawing software

Apsis: - Shes kinda just free real estate to do whatever with so this will be mostly hc's - Also havent given her a full costume design bc i am waiting for a more solid vibe if that makes sense - Mixed south asian/white (in the above art, at least) - May i suggest the name lila/leela - Whilst Emily and Sophia are roughly 15, shes more 18/19, and that age gap might contribute more to the gap she has with the other two - Fell out with the Merchants a while back due to petty drama and managed to avoid their aquisition into the Syndicate - Has a bit of a substance problem from that, but wont really recive any support due to the whole 'tramatised homeless young adult whos primary job is kicking the shit out of white nationalists' thing, so thems the breaks i guess - Shes just chillin

[ryndicate]

How bad do you want it? ⨳ Ichida Ryuken

"Then you know what to do."

notes: for @semisgroupie 's what's done in the dark collab! I've finally written something for bleach and I couldn't be happier to be writing about daddy Ishida >:3

warnings: uneven power dynamic, abuse of position, reader is given multiple outs aka consent, unprotected sex, public/risky sex

By expanding you are agreeing to viewing adult content and all warnings listed above. 18+ Minors DNI

Rules & Main Links

Whispers have been echoing around you since you arrived at work this morning, early but not so bright at a severe three in the morning. 

"Have you seen next week's schedule?"

"I haven't had a day off in three weeks."

"At least you don't have four back to back doubles. I've done nothing but work and sleep for god knows how—"

"Ma'am!" The youngest nurse in the lineup, Sachi you think, pops up from her seat after catching sight of you frowning at your boards. You turn to see her pacing towards you and grimace. 

You had seen the schedules too and were feeling the drain the same as everyone else. A few staff members from your department had been transferred last month with no replacements in sight.

"Can you please talk to Dr. Ishida," she all but begs you, her voice carrying enough to draw some of the other nurses towards you, their expressions taking on a hopeful outlook. "If anyone can convince him to hire more nurses it would be you."

Too late to escape, you try to ready a smile as the other nurses chorus at you, anxiety climbing.

"He always listens to you! It's probably because you're so good at your job."

"Yeah, I couldn't even get him to order new pens."

"He's so curt with everyone else."

"It wouldn't hurt to try, right?" Sachi throws on her best puppy eyes for good measure and you feel your willpower splinter. "Worst he could say is no?"

"Fine," you sigh, the pulsing of a new headache sounding like the last nails in your coffin. "I'll ask him after my shift today; he's got surgeries for most of the afternoon and a consultation in the evening."

Everyone relaxes measurably, breaking off one by one to get back to their duties and thanking you in hushed tones as the man in question appears around the corner.

Dr. Ishida Ryuuken barely gives you a cursory glance before breezing right past and you stiffen, making a show of studying the papers in your hand until he's gone. 

It's right to feel intimidated; tall and fit with vibrant snowy hair and a sharp jawline, he's incredibly handsome, barely looking a day over thirty despite having a teenage son. Quiet and icily strict, he’s a talented and sought after doctor despite losing his wife all those years ago. You could hardly imagine a man as cutting as him to even have had a wife, but you've never married so you guess you don't understand what it's like to lose a partner.

"Wouldn't hurt him to be nicer though." You rub your eyes, mumbling the words under your breath before glancing over your shoulder to make sure no one heard you. 

It’s a long day, like always. The work is hard, but in the end it’s good work. Infected stitches, bed sores, endless looping conversations with worried patients… someone has to do it, right?

You’re standing in the nurses bathroom exhausted, starving, and making a small attempt to wash some of the day’s grime away while you work up the nerve to go back upstairs to your department head’s office. This is honestly the last thing you wanted to do today, but you’ve been here longer than the rookies who swarmed you this morning, and honestly? They’re right. If they tried to talk to Dr. Ishida, he would have sent them running with their tails between their legs. You, on the other hand, have a little more backbone than that.

Feet still sore from the day you take the elevator up, thankful to find it empty and silent, and make your way down the familiar path to his office. You pause outside the door at the sound of muffled voices coming through the door. You check your watch. It’s nearly eight; you thought he’d be done with his consultation by now. There’s no way it would have run this long. Listening intently you try to make out the words.

“Sir, it’s the board of directors again. They’re trying to schedule—”

“Tell them I’m not here.”

“They’re not going to believe that.”

There’s a beat of silence and you can almost feel the undoubtedly stormy glare roiling behind his glasses.

“Then tell them to contact me during my operating hours. I’m off duty. They can leave a message like everyone else.”

“Sir, it’s the board.”

There’s more silence, and you step back from the door quickly when you realize their conversation is over, trying to appear unassuming. 

Ishida’s haggard looking aid doesn’t spare you a glance as they leave, and suddenly you feel less pessimistic about your own job.

The door is ajar so you tap your knuckles on the door, peeking in.

Dr. Ishida looks up from his desk, eyes still sharp, but some of the severity dissipates as he realizes it’s you.

“What is it this time?” He goes back to the papers on his desk. He’s aloof, bored, but with no direct dismissal you gather your nerves to do what you came for. You leave the door open to make the point that this won't take long.

“The nurses are still having a hard time since the transfers finalized,” you start, haltingly.

There’s several long moments of silence and for a moment you think he’s going to ignore you indefinitely before he looks up, raising an eyebrow at you.

“And?” 

The dry expectancy of his tone has heat rising beneath your collar, but you grit your teeth and work up your customer service smile from the days you worked retail to put yourself through nursing school. You never thought that experience would actually be useful, but here you are.

“Well, I understand how important your time is, sir, but we were hoping you might take some time out of your busy schedule to hire some additional staff to help balance the workload.”

As much as you try, there’s no curbing the biting undercurrent to your words. You’ve been in this position too many times to not be tired of it, and today you really just want to go home.

The good doctor turns his chair to face you, and his now piercing stare is enough to whittle away at your faltering confidence shakily propped up by indignance. You find your feet shifting as you try to ease your discomfort as he looks you over.

When he doesn’t say anything you’re getting ready to turn and stalk out of his office, but he finally speaks.

His voice is smooth now, nonchalant. “How important is this?”

“It would really help, sir,” you sigh, meek and defeated as he moves his chair a few feet back from his desk, the wheels giving a light squeak as they catch on the carpet. He leans back in it, crossing his arms. There’s an intensity in his eyes now that's different, an unspoken dare.

“Then you know what to do.”

There's that moment of resistance, there always is, where you simply maintain his stare with the blankest expression you can manage. But you inevitably crumble.

With a silent sigh, you reach for the hem of your scrubs and pull the colored pattern over your head. You're reaching for your bra when you pause, remembering the door is still open. 

Your hands drop and you're turning when Dr. Ishida's voice quietly rumbles across the room.

"Leave it." You glare at him and he stares back, immovable. "Unless you're done here?"

There it is, your best chance at walking out. Ignoring his bait you swallow your biting retort and unhook your bra, heat rising beneath your skin as he eyes your exposed tits, already hard from the scrutiny. You don't give him much more time than that, kicking out of your shoes and shoving your scrub bottoms off before coming around the edge of his desk.

You're left in nothing but a simple pair of gray cotton panties. Trying to hide your nerves, you lay yourself over his desk, nipples tightening painfully against the cold wood, hips raised and jutted out, displaying your ass for him.

You inhale slowly as he trails his hand up your outer thigh, skimming over the curve of your ass with such a gentle touch that it’s almost too sensitive. It makes you want to shy away, but you know that would only displease him, so you bite your inner cheek and steel yourself.

“Laundry day?” Ryuuken hums idly, sliding a finger in the band curving your left cheek and letting it go with a soft snap.

“With respect, fuck you, sir,” you sigh wearily, not in the mood for his brand of teasing today.

There’s a single note chuckle behind you, and you hate the way it sears against your skin like a brand, goosebumps rising down your spine in anticipation as you feel him move closer behind you. Instinctively you raise yourself to the balls of your feet as you feel his erection against your ass.

“Good girl.”

He’s amused now and you want nothing more than to hiss at him like a disgruntled cat, but your anxious eyes keep flickering to the open door, the risk of someone walking past keeping you silent.

Ryuuken rolls his hips into your ass a few times and smoothes a palm up your back, apparently content with taking his time.

“Will you hurry up?” you finally hiss, shuddering as his fingers make a third pass up and down your spine. You can feel the uncomfortable wetness growing between your thighs, the damp patch against your entrance sticking to your pussy. 

His hand immediately wraps around the back of your neck, effectively scruffing you, and you can’t help but let out a little squeak of surprise. He presses more tightly against you, leaning down to put his lips by your ear.

“Be quiet or get out,” Ryuuken murmurs, soft and dangerous, but the apparent lust roughening his tone is like little sparks bursting in your gut. You go limp, resigning yourself to his petting, arousal building like bubbling pressure in a coffee machine. 

You’re a hot flustered mess by the time you hear the clink of his belt, and you can’t help the tiny moan of approval as he finally tugs down your panties. The ache between your thighs has you biting every ounce of self restraint to keep your hips from arching towards him, letting him press on the small of your back and bump your feet into his preferred position like you wouldn’t have done it yourself given the chance.

A mewl is on the tip of your tongue, half choked as you chew your lower lip, at the feel of his fingers swiping through the slick you’ve accumulated. It receives a low hum of approval before his fingers are replaced with the blunt tip of his cock.

There’s a fog swirling over your mind. You can’t remember hearing the sound of a condom, but the heat and warmth of him slowly sinking into you is enough to send any worries of that flying from your mind. Your knuckles are white on the edge of the desk as you chew on a whine; his girth is something you’ve always reluctantly referred to as perfect, just enough to leave you full without making you grit at any pain, but his length always has you holding your breath because it never seems to end. He gives a little sigh behind you that has your mind fill with fluff, crackles of electricity sparking like exposed wires through your nerves.

“Breathe,” Ryuuken instructs calmly, and you hiccup, drawing in air like you just remembered how. “Again.”

There’s tears threatening your lashline as he stills, and you want to growl and posture at this stupid, sexy, rude as hell doctor being kind enough to give you time to adjust, but the alternative isn’t worth it. Knowing him, he’d rub it rather smugly in your face just how much you’re dripping all over him. So you sniffle instead, and tip your hips up just a little more, moaning in your throat as it has him pressing tighter against the front wall of your pussy.

One of his hands is stroking over the fat of your ass almost absentmindedly, as your pussy ripples around him at random, finally growing impatient for more stimulation. As if sensing your frustration, his grip moves to your waist and you curl a forearm under your cheek, ready to muffle any sounds if you need to.

His thrusts are quick and dirty right from the start, and your teeth are making divots in your arm before you know it. You get the sense that you’re not the only one stressed from today’s workload; it’s as if he’s trying to slam every ounce of pent up frustration out through your cunt. The unbreaking pace is mind-numbing and your eyes glaze over as he strikes deep in your core. 

Ryuuken’s grunts are quiet but they bathe over your ears, causing your pussy to squeeze down on him, and the hand supporting the brunt of his force flashes back to grab his wrist as you feel pleasure curl so close to the surface that you’re sure you’d crumble if it didn’t peak. He shakes his hand out of your grip and you almost sob, but he’s tugging your hips back further off the desk and reaching under you, the tips of his fingers brushing over your clit and your whole body locks up as your orgasm rips through you. 

His breathed curse falls on deaf ears as you ride out the blissful storm, extended by the way he savagely pulls you back on his cock, jerking into you unevenly, frantically, and you taste iron and salt as he sinks deep and grinds.

He’s still for a moment, breathing hard before his cock slips out of your cunt, and you feel warmth spilling down your thighs. One of these days you’ll have half a mind left to pay attention when Dr. Ishida Ryuuken loses his composure, but you’re too preoccupied with riding out the final aftershocks as he straightens his clothes behind you and smoothes his hair down.

Only then does he slide your panties back up your legs, making sure they’re firmly in place. There’s the soft sound of rustling fabric and finally your awareness rouses. You raise your head to see the office door closed, and your discarded scrubs sitting on the corner of his desk. 

Ryuuken watches you silently as you redress, offering no words, and you don't need them. You've been here before; you did what you came for, and he got what he wanted. Words weren’t necessary. Words complicate things.

He opens the door for you as you slip on your shoes. “Until next time.”

Something indescribable brightens inside you at Ryuuken’s words, and you give him a searing glare. In return you receive a small smirk, and he closes the door behind you with a light click.

As you walk down the hall, you tell yourself it’s only to gain favor with your employees, to help everyone out. That it’s altruism in its finest for you to pimp yourself out to the head of the department. That it has absolutely nothing to do with how well he fucks you and sends you on your way with shaking legs and a dripping cunt. Absolutely nothing at all.

Sachi is sitting at the nurse's station when you get down there, and you belatedly realize she was one of the nurses working double today.

“Oh, your arm!” She gasps, peeling out of her seat and dashing for the first aid cart. “I hate it when patients bite.”

You look down to see the mark on your arm; it’s bleeding, barely, but the crescent shape is like a ghostly reminder of his smile right before he closed the door in your face, and your heart jumps against your wishes.

Your glare returns in earnest.

Damn him.

© All rights reserved to @ryndicate. Do not modify, translate, or repost.

[newhope8]

🐱🐾Comfort from Kitty💕🫂♾️

Here's a random idea I had. This post is inspired by the following two comments. ⬇️ And incidentally enough, this post is dedicated to @vanillacupcakefrosting & @moonlightndaydreams.

Please, if you truly are under the age of 18, don't read this story I've written. When fanfic creators (authors or artists) say, "Minors, Do Not Interact" (MDNI)", there's usually some damn good reasons why. If you decide to read, I ask that you please make note of the below-mentioned content warnings (C/W). ⬇️

C/W • 🔞❌⚠️ gentle ass play // fingering (anal) :: f-receiving; breast & nipple play; period Shark Week foreplay in general; hand job :: m-receiving; light breeding marking, tho no p-v happens, since fem::y/n is on her period; Minho is briefly mentioned as the y/n's BF (boyfriend), tho he can be referred to however you want >>fiancee, husband, sibling's best friend, your S.O. {significant other}, etc...<<; some cum play; spit play (f-receiving); use of pet names :: reader calls herself "Mommy" & her boyfriend "Kitten"; gentle degradation ... if you squint, i guess; mild praise kink (m-receiving); nursing & tit suckling kink (male pov); graphic mentions of male & female anatomy and bodily fluids; graphic language ... 🔞❌⚠️

Pairing • Minho & female y/n reader 👩🏻‍🤝‍👨🏼💗💙

Relationship Status • Comfortable, experienced, safe, loving, judgement-free 🫂❤️‍🩹

Synopsis • Your boyfriend (Minho) comforts you during your period.

If I've missed anything in the warnings, please let me know. 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

My a/n (author note) thoughts throughout & at the end of this fic will appear in small purple font; you'll see. 🥰💜👍🏻 Just random ramblings that I wanted to write down/ make note of in that particular moment ...

This little story is just for fun & perhaps some relief from life's worries. Please take it as such. It's not serious, nor designed to replicate the mannerisms of any one Kpop celebrity irl.

Despite you being on your period (or, as some refer to it, "Shark Week" 🦈), you're still horny and desperate for Minho to ease your aches and pains in some very adult ways. 😏🔥💦

He would totally respect your wishes and leave your pussy untouched, no matter what type of feminine hygiene product you're using (whether it's an internal product or external one). Ladies, we all know what these are. 👍🏻 Minho may ask you to strip to your underwear, panties stay on (you're on your monthly cycle, remember 🩸🩸🩸🩸), yet he leaves you to decide if the bra stays or goes. Your pussy is throbbing, not entirely from being horny, yet from weird period cramps (am I the only one who's felt/ experienced this...??!!), so you're silently thankful your nether region is remaining covered. This weird throbbing has your tits starting to poke against your bra & if you weren't expelling a crimson river from between your folds, you would've sworn a few drops of Minho's favorite dessert had left your pussy hole. Yup, that's right. Your boyfriend's favorite thing to lick up is the cream your body generates. 🫦👅💦💦💦 Doesn't matter if it's pre-orgasm (pre-cum), during cumming or post-orgasm ("the little death" moment), he likes it all. And tells you he does, every chance he can get.

He sees you start to lay back on the bed next to him, yet his brows furrow when he sees you sit back up. Can't stand this fucking tit-choking bra any longer, you gripe to yourself. Reaching behind you, your fingers struggle to undo the clasp. After a moment, Minho hears you exclaim a satisfactory Ah-HA! as you successfully unclip the offending undergarment and fling it to the far corner of your bedroom. Minho fills his dick start to swell at your words. Desperate for some relief of his own, he turns over onto his stomach to press his groin into the mattress. This is a mistake for him, since he feels himself soak right through his undies, no doubt leaving a delicious little stain of his very own on your bed linens.

Turning his head to one side, time goes in slow motion for him. He watches as you lay back once again, twisting your hips to get settled a bit more comfortably, your tits finally free of your bra and poking out in the air. Without his permission, his mouth emits a small arousing gurgling noise, which does not escape your notice. Somebody's going to get to feel really good in just a minute, you think to yourself. 😏💦

Minho feels himself soil his undies completely as he watches the skin around your tits pebble up from the cold air in your bedroom. He cannot wait any longer for you and swiftly gets up from the bed to strip himself off completely. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch with wide eyes as his dick flops free from his underwear and begins to steadily ooze your own favorite dessert from its tip. 💦💦💦💦🍆 Squeezing your legs together, not entirely to ease the period aches down there, your breath stops as he hops back on the bed and lays down on his side facing you.

He asks you next if he can suckle on your tits. He already knows this is one of your favorite foreplay activities (whether you're on your period or not) and the thought of tasting your full tits, made even fuller with increased hormone levels from your monthly cycle, has him pressing his soaked dick into your hip and leaking all over your leg. (Idk about anyone else, yet when I'm on my period, my boobs do feel like they swell slightly. For reference, I am a 36B bra size irl.) Whimpering out a strained yes in reply, you raise your arms above your head and move your shoulders from side to side to get fully comfy and as sunk into the mattress as you can.

Minho lets himself rub his dick in an up-down motion against your hip a few times before leaning over and taking your right tit in his mouth. Your tits are always sensitive when you're aroused (periodness or no) and the feeling of having your twin peaches 🍑🍑 in full-access-mode for him has you emitting small moans that go in time with the lazy suckling motions of his tongue.

Feeling your favorite dessert start to dribble down your right thigh and leg (Minho's cream), you are suddenly just as desperate to feel him as he is to be suckling on you. Moving your right arm down from above your head, you reach down to his dick with your right hand and lightly start to tickle the base of his shaft. Minho's lips break from your right tit and he nuzzles his nose in between your boobs while he freely emits unabashed moans, groans and whimpers at the feel of your hand being able to freely slide up and down, oh so slowly, along his shaft. There is only one person in the entire world his dick belongs to (other than himself, lol); that one person is you.

He continues to nuzzle his nose in between your boobs as you gently begin to massage him. His right hand comes up to ghost over your stomach and he blindly reaches for your left tit. You're just about to move your left hand to help him find what he's looking for, yet that isn't necessary. Thank goodness, you muse to yourself, for my left nipple had been screaming in agony for some attention since Minho stripped off his undies.

You feel your hand get even more saturated than it already is from Minho's precum. Gently wriggling your hand out from between your bodies, despite his adorable whimpers of protesting disappointment, you bring your hand up to your face and begin licking your entire hand clean. Yup, that's right ... you're having your dessert before your main meal. 😈👅🥵💦 Whoever said you couldn't indulge in dessert first if you wanted to was being ridiculous for no reason.

Minho notices you cleaning your hand off and you feel him start to rut a bit harder into your right hip as his lips regain purchase on your right nipple. Minho, baby ... please ... PLEASE, you moan. For the love of all that's holy and sacred in this world, look to my other tit with your lips. Do you really want any future children I may give you to only have 1 nipple to suckle from? Or are you going to be selfish and just keep both of Mommy's titties for yourself?

You hear your him mumble and groan around your right tit, still so engrossed in nursing from you. Laughing softly to yourself at his behavior, you reach your left hand over and gently tug on his hair, forcing his head up and away from your chest. Baby, why did you do that, he whimper-cries, giving you the sweetest set of doe eyes you've ever seen.

Because Mommy's left nip is sad, you answer. It needs love too.

Here, let me see it, Minho huffs out. He props himself up on his elbows just enough so he can move his head over to your left breast.

Hold my other tit, please, you whisper-whimper to him. It just needs you to hold it while you nurse from the other one.

You slowly bring Minho's left hand up to cup your right breast. He follows your directions dutifully, cradling your boob in his slightly larger hand, yet not squeezing it at all. You begin to moan in earnest when, in the very next instant, you feel his lips attach to your left tit, but not before you watch as he lets a healthy stream of his drool dribble onto your left nipple. His spit beads for a split second on the very tip of your left tit, before it glides down over the swell of the breast itself. Your breath just about ceases completely while you watch him hover his perfect mouth over your drenched tit. His breath comes in short, staccato bursts, similar to the slightly faster rhythm his hips have begun to make against your hip.

Giggling to yourself, you run your hands up & down your boyfriend's shoulders, getting temporarily lost in the lustful yet overall loving gaze he fixes on your boobs. He alternates looking at your twin peaches and your eyes. His eyes suddenly fill with an emotion you cannot put into words and you feel a rather hard lump of tears lodge right in the middle of your throat. You think to yourself that it's partially due to your monthly hormones, which are in full force atm. Indeed, you feel a strong urge to get up and use the restroom (lol, tmi perhaps). Yet, it's something else too, something else entirely. You return your boyfriend's gaze and see his eyes sparkling with tears for you, through his natural manly lust for your body. You get fully shipwrecked in his gaze and feel tears finish beading up along your lashes and starting to trickle down your cheeks. 🥹

Baby, what is it? What's wrong, you hear him ask you. You cannot answer him right away, so you turn your head to one side and bury one half of your face in your pillow. You feel hiccups start to build in your chest, yet force them down. Now is not the time to hiccup in your boyfriend's face, you silently giggle to yourself. Not that Minho would care. He loves every part of you, every part of your very essence. Even the silly & embarrassing noises your body makes on its own, for whatever reason. It's all music to his ears, he loves it all.

Baby, I need you to answer me. Are you ok? You hear him ask you again. You feel one of his hands come up to your left breast, gently wiping off the spit he'd left there mere moments before. His other hand goes to your tummy, which you feel to suddenly start clenching with one of the most painful period cramps you've experienced. He rubs his hand back and forth over your twisting uterus, and peppers the softest kisses 💋 all over your face. He isn't licking up your tears, just kissing you softly.

You force yourself to focus on the movements of his hands and lips on your body, instead of on the nauseating pain that continues to pull through your feminine parts. The uterine cramps start to ease for a moment and you feel yourself start to go soft with relief.

Are you ok, baby? He asks you for a third time. His hands still completely, and you can tell he's not going to continue further until you answer him. You slowly move your head to face him, because you feel the onset of a massive migraine headache starting to form. 😣 Reaching your hands up to either side of his face, it's now your turn to gently wipe up his tears.

Yes, my Leebit, I'm fine. Just letting your love heal me, I guess. It overflows from my heart every time for you and ... and ... You suddenly cannot continue speaking, so you turn your head to the other side and start to cry in earnest. Your shoulders start to shake a tiny bit and you feel Minho reach both his arms under your shoulders to pull you close to his chest. You burrow into his embrace and let the rest of the bodily aches dissipate as you feel his warmth seep into each pore of your skin. You haven't forgotten about Minho's other "concern", for it's still pressed against your hip, its tip is quite wet and very hard. 💦🍆 Before gently pulling away from him, you take a moment to marvel at his self control and respect for your emotions in general. He's not been rutting into you at all this entire time, he's been completely still. His dick has only twitched maybe once, it's almost as if he's told himself to stop until you're settled and calm again.

You watch as his eyes flutter closed & a few more tears trickle down the apples of his cheeks. Your thumbs ghost over his eyelids, using kitten-feather-soft touches to soothe away his tears. Minho leans his face into one of your hands, moving his head barely back & forth. He continues to nuzzle against your hand in this way, until you suddenly feel a sharp pain stab through your gut.

Ahhhh, oh fuck, ahhhhh, you moan out. Your hands fly away from Minho's face, pressing as hard as you can in a downward motion on your lower stomach, right where your uterus is. The period cramp is so bad, your back arches slightly off the bed and you screw your eyes shut.

You feel Minho shift slightly in the bed next to you, not leaving your side. He adjusts himself so you have a little more space to move, yet he's still just as close to you as before. It's ok, baby, I'm right here & I'm not going anywhere. Just breathe, ok? you hear him whisper to you.

Through the renewed fog of pain & nausea that threatens to overtake you, you feel his hands settle in place over yours, helping you to press down on your stomach further. Every female is different with her body & how she experiences period cramps, yet pressing down on your uterus is one of the movements that works best for you to ease the aches in the immediate moment. And Minho instinctually knows this.

He leans over your face & kisses your forehead before placing one, single, solitary, loving kiss on your left tit. He doesn't even suckle on it, just kisses it once and moves his mouth away to lay his head on your chest.

Then, as quickly as the pain makes an appearance, you feel your uterus relaxing again and the aches naturally subside. You shift your shoulders from side to side, signaling you want to get up. Minho, baby, I love being your body pillow, yet I really need to pee & change my feminine item out, you say to him. You have been in a healthy & steady relationship with your boyfriend for several years and always feel like you can talk quite openly with him about anything and everything. Yes, I said anything and everything; this includes every little aspect of women's feminine hygiene and gynecological health. So telling him you need to change your pad or tampon is nothing he hasn't heard before. He's a confident man & has the balls to be mature enough to handle such talk in a respectful manner. Some men are fucking babies when it comes to being respectful of a woman's health, yet there are others who aren't this way. They may seem like they're few & far between, yet they are out there ... I promise. 💕🫂🙏🏻

Minho, come on, baby, you huff out a laugh as he nuzzles his nose in between your boobs one last time. I really REALLY need to use the restroom.

You're just so soft and delectable, you hear him mumble into your skin as he moves to sit up in bed.

How the fuck am I soft when I feel so dirty and gross? you ask him.

Because you're you & perfect just the way you are, he answers. I cannot see you being any other way & I wouldn't have you any other way.

Aww, fuck, Minho baby ... I'm going to cry all over again! you moan out, looking at him with more tears in your eyes. Your heart melts even further than it already has as you sit up, scooting closer to him on the bed, and rubbing your nose in the crook of his neck. Despite feeling overall icky from your period, you're still somewhat horny and cannot resist scenting your boyfriend, just a little. 😉

Minho recognizes your signature move with this & you feel his body stiffen slightly. From the corner of your eye, you see his hands move down gradually to his rock-hard dick, which is now steadily oozing the most delicious-looking precum you've seen from him in a while. Its color is a shade of milky white, semi-clear ... the most beautiful you've seen from his cockhead in a while. Your pussy starts to throb with genuine arousal this time, not just residual period cramps. You are suddenly desperate to taste him and this thought has your pussy leaking his cream all over your folds. Your only regret is that because it's the first evening of your Shark Week, your pussy and folds are 100% off limits to him for the next few days ... at least until the heaviest flow has passed.

Baby, what are you doing? you mumble into Minho's neck. What are you doing, you ask again ... giggling at how Minho has suddenly decided to mirror your movements.

Loving you, what does it look like ... he whimpers back. His hands press down harder on his dick and he begins to leave little love bites and nibbles along the juncture of your neck & shoulder.

Are you trying to mark me? you giggle back, with a breathy moan of your own. Minho baby, I really have to pee. Making a more concerted effort to move away from him this time, or else you really will have a crimson accident in your bed, you gently push on his shoulders to get him to detach his mouth from your neck.

Nooo, he whines out. And to keep you in place, he bites down a bit harder, effectively pinning you to the spot for a few more seconds.

Ah, fuuuuuucccccckkkkkk, baby ... Minho ... NOOO, you whine back. Despite your almost having an accident, you push your tits against his bare chest and reach your hands up to tangle in his hair.

He feels your tits on the broad muscles of his chest and reaches a hand up to fondle your left nipple, not forgetting he left off mid-massage of it to check on you. You notice his hand is soaked and you suddenly moan out rather loudly as he lets himself start to push his groin into your side again ... this time in earnest. Your Kitty is determined to feel good and you're going to help him get there. But first, your bathroom stop ... for the only type of bodily fluids you prefer to clean off your sheets is your & his cum. Not pee, not barf, not period blood ... just delicious cum. That's all.

Using what little willpower you feel you still possess, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull up with intention. His mouth leaves your neck with a quiet squelch and he looks at you with a half blown out expression on his face. His hand stays latched around your left tit, so you quickly detach this part of him from you too.

Baby, he whines at you. He tries to scoot closer again but this time, you're quicker. Scrambling off the bed, you stand up and point a finger at him. I have to pee, baby. Don't you remember what week it is for me?

Yes, I remember, it's just, it's just ... I need Mommy's titties and this ..., he whimpers, gesturing to his painfully hard dick.

My titties will be right back, you chuckle. I will feel better after just a moment. 🧻🚽🩸 Yet in the meantime, you continue, coming up to the foot of the bed and pointing your finger at him again. Lay back for me, and spread your legs. Arms above your head ... and do NOT fucking touch yourself until I get back. Mommy will help you out momentarily.

Will you, truly? he asks. He quickly moves into position as you've directed him to and the sight just about has you doubling over and feeling dizzy. Sweat gives a glistening sheen all over his body and his entire shaft is coated in the only moisture you're even remotely interested in getting nutrition from. Minho's muscular arms are above his head and he grips onto the headboard for support. He tries to keep his hips still, yet the sight of you staring him down, dressed as you are (topless, with just your favorite comfort pair of cotton panties on), has him involuntarily bucking his hips up just a bit.

Yes baby kitty, most truly. I promise, you reply to him. Turning on your heels before you can have another moment of hormonal weakness, you dash into the en-suite bathroom you both share, firmly shutting the door behind you.

You make your way over to your section of the spacious bathroom. Rummaging around in one of your many storage compartments, you hastily feel around for one of your favorite overnight pads in your period supply drawer. Your hand lands on the all-too-familiar wrapper of the pad and when you withdraw it from the box, you see a small post-it note stuck to it.

Sitting down on the toilet, you quickly dispose of your hygiene trash in the small trash can and relieve yourself. Bending over at the waist, you press both hands into your stomach as hard as you can and emit a silent moan, or as silent as you feel you can be under the circumstances. Your uterus is hell-bent bound and determined that you're not going to have much relief from it tonight. It's going to make sure you're aware it's there, at all times, no matter what. You're just glad you're sitting on the toilet, instead of standing up or sitting down. Giving birth to small jellyfish 🩸🩸🩸 during the first few days is always fun, isn't it, ladies? 🫣😣🥴😮‍💨 (For those biologically born with a vagina, you know what I mean & are the only people who will ever understand. For those that weren't {no matter how you orientate/ identify}, take note :: it literally feels like a small glob of jellyfish leaving your pussy hole. I'm not kidding. Periods are a necessary part of life & still not normalized as much as they should be, I think. No disrespect towards anyone/ everyone is beautiful, I'm simply telling things from my perspective as a woman who bleeds each month.)

While you wait for the feeling to pass, you look at the small post-it note you've found stuck to the pad. Un-sticking the note from the pad's wrapper, you unfold it and open it to reveal a short love-note from Minho! 🥹😻😭🤧💌🎀 Blinking back tears, you try to remember any recent interaction when he'd have an excuse to go into some of your more personal drawers in the bathroom. It suddenly dawns on you that just a week ago, you did ask him to pick up some extra pads for you while he'd stopped at the convenience store on his way home from work. You sent him a photo of the packaging of your favorite kind (ladies ... if you haven't tried pads by the brand called Honey Pot, you may be missing out; seriously -- give their pads and liners a try if you use said-products; Idk if they make tampons or not ...) & he came back with 2 packages, plus a baggie of your favorite chocolates & 2 cans of your favorite energy drink.

You involuntary emit a hiccup & swipe a hand across your eyes, in a poor attempt to dry your tears. Realizing this effort is futile, you reach for a handful of toilet paper to blow your nose, hoping Minho doesn't hear you being emotional in the bathroom. 🤧🫣 Straining your ears to hear, all "appears" quiet from the sanctuary of your & his shared bedroom.

Rubbing one hand absentmindedly over your stomach, you hold his note in your other hand & begin to read.

To my dearest baby, You are so very beautiful in each & every way. Don't let anyone ever tell you different. Thank you for being mine. Hugs & kisses, ~~your Kitty 🐱🐾😘 (P.S. I hope these are the right pads.)

You bend over in half again, your chin is resting on your knees. You cry for real this time, not caring two fucks if Minho hears you. The amount of love from such simple words never fails to take your breath away & you feel your heart swell with love for your boyfriend. Usually, such a note would only ever make you smile softly to yourself ... at best! Yet for some reason, his words tug on your heartstrings more than you realize. You chalk this up to your emotions being all over the place in recent days, not just due to pre-PMS periodness symptoms. From your parents' apartment lease being renewed for another year, to your dad's job being topsy-turvy/ toxic workplace, to your own unsuccessful attempts at finding employment and having a large amount of credit card debt {a large amount to you, tho maybe small to others...}, you haven't been able to discern if you've been coming or going.

You take a short, stuttering breath, breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth. You don't feel like you're going to throw up, not really, yet a wave of period-nausea sweeps over you all the same. You press Minho's little note to the side of your face and take several more deep, cleansing breaths. You instantly have his words memorized & you let the love he's conveyed sweep over you, grounding you back to earth and quelling your racing heart.

Placing the note carefully in the re-stocked basket where you keep your pads (for safe-keeping 💌), you finish up your business & clean yourself up the best you can. You look behind you on the lid of the toilet's tank & find Minho has also replenished your favorite flushable wipes. A new package sits there & what would you know ... it's your favorite brand! You didn't even ask him to get these, yet he went and bought them anyway. 🥹

You let yourself quietly cry some more as you wash your hands with your favorite lavender hand soap. Drying your hands on your favorite hand towel that hangs on a small towel rack above the toilet, you pick up the pack of wipes and shake your head. Holding the wipes in one hand, you reach for your Vicks-scented tissues with the other & pull one out of the box. Blowing your nose 2 times in a row (Minho can for sure hear this noise of yours), you close your eyes and breathe in-out again. {Everyone, whatever you do ... do not DO NOT wipe your eyes with Vicks-scented tissues!!!!!! 🫣🫣🫣 They are quite strong and for your nose only!! They may irritate your eyes and no one wants that.}

Walking swiftly to the bathroom door, wipes in hand, you flick off the light and leave the door ajar behind you. The sight that greets you when you re-enter the bedroom has your boobs swelling even more and your tits poking out at full attention.

Minho is laying on his side, facing towards you. He has one hand resting under his head and his other hand is laying casually on his hip. He's still very much naked. His dick is still just as rock-hard as it was before and lays out before him on the bed linens, oozing and looking like the most delicious popsicle you've ever tasted. 🍆🍭💦🥵

I guess it's a good thing I brought these out with me, you say to him, coming to a stop by the side of the bed, right where he's laying.

Why is that, my lovely?

You're making a mess & I'm going to have to clean up your puddle. Look what you've done, naughty Kitty, you say, pointing to the very wet & noticeable stain his precum has made from where his dick has been resting against the sheet.

Kitty is sorry, you hear your boyfriend mumble. Can Mommy clean me up?

Yes, Mommy is more than happy to do that for you, you answer. But first, I need you to feel something out for me, you continue cryptically. Walking the 2 steps over to the bedside table, you set the wipes down and move to sit cross-legged on the bed next to Minho.

What is it? he asks you, sitting up to face you properly.

Well, it's 2 things really.

What is it? he asks again, cutely wringing his hands in child-like anticipation.

Being just as desperate for relief as Minho's dick no doubt is, you decide to get right into it. First, I need you to get your hand nice and wet for me with your precum. Then, I need you to feel how clean I've got my ass for you, with that same hand, you tell him.

Minho's eyes almost pop out of his head at your words. He instinctually spreads his legs on either side of you and begins fisting his swollen cock, spreading already copious amounts of cream all over himself and his hand.

Mommy, really?! REALLY??!! he asks you again.

Yes, Kitty, really. Now, be a good boy & let me see your hand.

Minho sucks his bottom lip between his teeth and reluctantly removes his hand from his thoroughly soaked dick. His hand is positively glistening and some of his precum drips down his hand and onto his forearm. Yup, he's that wet already (& there's not a bottle of lube in sight). 💦💦💦🥵🥵🥵

Grasping his wrist in your left hand, you jerk his wet hand towards your face, not that you need further inspection of his efforts. Oh, such a good Kitty for me, you purr at him. Out of the corner of your eye, you see his dick twitch slightly at your praising words. You have an innate sense for being able to tell how close your boyfriend is to actually cumming and you correctly surmise that he's more than close.

I need to make sure your hand is the right amount of wet for my asshole, Kitten. And the only way I want to do that right now is this, you coo at him. Before he has a chance to respond, you suck his soaked pointer finger into your mouth and lick it clean.

Minho lets out another strangled gasp and barely manages to stutter out, Kitten needs to feel how clean Mommy's asshole is for him, PLEASE!!! Yet you hear him and promptly pull his finger from between your lips with a loud & lewd pop.

Go ahead & make me cum, Minho, you whine. And for fuck's sake, please fucking hurry. I may be on my period, yet I'm so close! 💦😭

I'm close too, y/n, he croaks out. Turn around for me then.

As fast as you can on your rather lumpy bed, you turn around and present your ass end to Minho. You hear him give his cock a few more slick pumps, making sure all of his fingers are thoroughly coated. You then feel as he presses his dick up against your ass, though he makes no move whatever to push himself inside in any way.

Gonna feel your sweet little hole now, Mommy, he coos back at you. Dipping both his hands past the back waistband of your panties, he quickly spreads your ass cheeks apart so he can dip one hand down your crack to finger your asshole.

You quickly stabilize yourself on your hands and knees & in the next second, you feel Minho's middle finger circle your rim, tapping on the outer edges of your hole once ... twice ... three times. You feel your orgasm approaching & you screw your eyes shut and forcefully bite your bottom lip between your teeth to stave off the feeling, at least until your boyfriend gets a finger in you. One solitary finger, that's all your ass needs. Just one, for fuck's sake! 💦💦💦👆🏻💦💦💦 Then he pushes his finger in, all in one go. The moan that leaves your mouth is more than pornographic.

AH, FUUUUUUCCCCKKKK, MINHO KITTEN, AHHHHHHH, you holler out. I'm so fucking close! 😭💦💦💦😭🫴🏻🫴🏻🫴🏻

Baby, don't say that! I haven't even gotten in a second finger. How can you be this close to cum---, Minho's words are cut off as he feels your asshole clench so hard around his middle finger, it's all he can do to keep himself from creaming against the backside of your panties.

I'M CUMMING, you moan out, more or less finishing his sentence for him. Again, you chalk it up to monthly hormones, a rise in estrogen or whatever else (in addition to natural horniness) that's surging through your system to cause you to cum so quickly. Your cunt spasms around nothing and you're not worried if you accidentally pee yourself, since you're wearing a slightly thicker pad. (Even when you're not on your period, you don't mind feeling your squirt-slick drenching your panties & thighs afterward, yet if it's anything to do with pee, that's a no-go for you. And Minho knows this about you too.)

Kitten, your hole is so beautiful, he croaks out from behind you. Leaning over your shoulder, he puts his lips right next to your ear 👂🏻🗣 & hoarsely stutters out, Need your hand around my dick ... like yesterday. He gives your fluttering asshole a few more loving pumps in-out in-out with his finger, then withdraws his drenched digit.

Flopping back onto the bed behind you, you hear him moan again. Turning back around just as quickly as before, you direct him to lean up against the headboard of the bed. He hastily complies, then makes the cutest set of grabby hands for you, that you've ever seen. 🥹👐🏻 You settle next to him, your left thigh pressing up against his left thigh, you're sat facing him.

Left tit, I need it, he whines. Tears have beaded up at the corners of his eyes and one drop does in fact trickle down his cheek. 💧

Here, Kitten, it's right here, you whisper. You adjust yourself, cupping your left breast in your hand and presenting it to him. He leans forward, whispers a barely audible I love you to you, then attaches his lips around your left nipple.

You gently & softly run your fingers through his hair as he begins to suckle. Humming one of his favorite songs (☀️You Are My Sunshine☀️), you look down and watch as he open-mouth suckles on your tit, then re-attaches his lips to your breast. It makes your eyes tear up and a few drops fall into his hair as you watch him leave the sweetest kitten licks ever around your nipple, gently pushing and pulling your left breast as he nurses and kneeding the other one with his hands. Minho doesn't notice your latest batch of tears, yet he does hear you quietly humming the song and moans along with you, still suckling you the entire time.

All too soon, you end the song after just one verse. Minho is still very much absorbed in nursing from you, so you decide this is the perfect opportunity to reach down & touch his dick. What you feel has you practically salivating 🥵🥵🥵💦💦💦 :: his dick is rock-hard, very hot, and very swollen. You take a gentle, yet firm-enough hold on his shaft and begin sliding your hand up and down, up and down, up and down. 🫳🏻🫳🏻🫳🏻💦💦💦🍆🫴🏻🫴🏻🫴🏻 He moans around your breast, temporarily detaching his lips from your left nipple, and buries his face in between your boobs.

Wanting to return the favor & check in on him as he's already done with you, you kiss the crown of his head and ask, Is my kitten ok?

Yes, Mommy, your Kitten is just fine.

Is Kitten close?

Yes, Mommy, your Kitten is so fucking close. Please ...

Please what?

Please, Kitten wants to cum for you! Minho whines out.

Aww, Minho baby, I love you too, you coo at him. 🥹 Speaking around the lump of emotional tears in your throat is beginning to take its toll on you, so your next statement is your last audible one for the time being.

Does Kitten want to suckle Mommy's tit while he cums for her? you ask.

YES, PLEASE. I am so wet and hard for you! Minho whine-cries.

Kissing Minho on the top of his head again, you again cradle your left breast in your hand and guide him to your chest. His lips waste no time in re-attaching themselves and he begins to suckle harder than before. Reaching back down with your other hand to his dick, you grasp a bit firmer and begin pumping him off in earnest. He barely makes it 3 more passes of your hand before he's biting your nipple in another "somewhat gentle" mating mark and suddenly your hand is coated in your favorite dessert of all time.

AHHHHH FUCK, KITTEN IS CUMMING, he whines for you. Jerking and pulsating in your hand, you keep kissing the top of his head as his lips leave your well-sated left nipple and he again buries his face in between your boobs.

Your hand does go completely still the instant you feel him start to cum for you. You know he's over-stimulated, just as you were yourself, so you don't want to make him uncomfortable or anything like that. There's a time and place for being over-stimmed sexually, yet now is not one of them.

His hips eventually stutter and stop moving completely as his body winds itself down from his orgasmic high. He keeps moving his nose up and down between your boobs, scenting you even though you both are spent from your orgasms.

Kitten loves you so much, he whispers as he lays back on the bed, gently pulling you with him. Neither of you mind one bit about being partially covered with cum and sweat. What's more important in this split second is cuddling and laying close to one another.

I love you too, my Minho, you whisper back. So, so much. 🥹🥹🥹

As you feel yourself drifting off to sleep, the last thought to cross your mind is how lucky you are to have such a loving & attentive boyfriend. Your heart is full, your body sated to its fullest extent, your period cramps non-existent now & your mind happily spinning with a few random thoughts on how your next encounter with him might go.

a/n • What did you think, my fellow fanfic lovelies? 🥰 Did you like this little story? This was spur-of-the-moment, I wrote it over the span of just 2 days, which is a personal best for me. I hope I did justice to some of the themes in the 2 comments I listed at the beginning of this post. This is also the first fanfic of my own I've written & posted on here! 💜😍 This comfort story is also the first concerted effort I've made to write anything since August of last year, 2023. And while this is a fic where the main character is on her period in the story, at the time of me posting this I am not on my period, lol. 😄🙌🏻

p.s. • If you liked this story, please re-blog to share it and give me credit. 🙏🏻 While I do not have copyrights on my writings (either on here or AO3), just know that if you plagiarize something of mine {or someone else's}, Karma will come back to bite you in the fucking ass with a vengeance. 😎 No matter how someone identifies themselves, Karens aren't called Karens for no reason. You really wouldn't want to be marked as a KAREN, would you? 🤔 Didn't think so. 😌

@itsseohannbin @channieandhisgoonsquad @frenchkisstheabyss @queenmea604 @minnieprincess85 @moonlightndaydreams

[krikeymate]

Foster AU: what if as Tara approaches her 18th birthday, she has this fear in the back of her mind that Sam will kick her out/want her to leave because that’s what “normal” people are “supposed” to do when they turn 18. Cue her pulling away a bit because she’s so anxious about it and Sam being confused and a little hurt until it finally just comes out that Tara is scared that she won’t want her around anymore.

And Sam subsequently saying something along the lines of “you can stay with me as long as you want but I don’t want you to leave ever.”

Tara usually joins Sam at work. Sam trusts Tara to stay home alone, and more importantly, she trusts in the rigid security system, thick doors, reinforced windows, and numerous locks, their new home - recently moved into - has had installed. But Tara doesn't like being left alone in the house, and her tutor - Sidney - has the week off for Thanksgiving. (She had actually invited them both over to stay for the holiday, but Sam had recently been promoted to manager because she works the holidays, and didn't feel right then dumping the responsibility on the others and disappearing).

So, Tara sits in the staff room on her Nintendo Switch playing Pokemon, exploring Kanto with Sam the Pikachu, when Jill, 19 years old and only several months into the job, takes her break.

Tara doesn't like Jill (she doesn't like anyone). The way she speaks to her makes her uncomfortable, but she can't quite figure out how to explain why, so she doesn't say anything about it at all. Sam says she needs to think about her words more. Sam was laughing when she said it, but Sam doesn't say things she doesn't mean, so Tara tries to think about her words more before she says them. Dr Martin says she should think about the why behind the words, and that if she can't really explain why she wants to say what she does, then maybe she shouldn't say them. Sam told her that was stupid and she could ignore what Dr Martin said, but Tara still thinks about it sometimes.

"Hey, so I hear it's your birthday soon," Jill pipes up, pulling out a chair at the table. Tara wishes she wouldn't speak, and just nods her head, eyes never leaving the game.

"Soooo... what're you gonna do when you turn 18?" she continues. The question confuses Tara and she flicks her eyes to the girl for a moment. "What do you mean?" she asks, frowning. She continues to stare at the screen, but her hands still on the controls, battle screen flashing.

"Well," Jill says, chewing obnoxiously on her gum, "are you gonna, like, go to college or get a job, or what?"

Tara puts the Switch down to stare at Jill. She thinks carefully about her words. Don't be stupid is probably the wrong thing to say. "Why would I do that?" she eventually settles on.

Jill stares at her in bafflement, a weird smile on her face. "Well, you can't just stay with your sister forever." There's a laugh in her voice, like the idea is ridiculous. "You're an adult, not a little kid. 18 is when you leave the nest and make your own way in the world!" Jill looks at her, waiting for Tara to speak, then frowns, as if remembering who she's talking to. "Well, I mean, for normal people anyway. I guess it's not the same for people like you, what with your..." she waves her hand around in place of finishing her sentence.

The door opens and Sam appears over the threshold. "Jill, your break was over 3 minutes ago and there's a line of customers waiting to be served," she chastises, not unkindly. Sam catches sight of Tara's face, tight and upset, and lingers, moving out of the way for Jill to pass. Once she's gone, she moves into the room, shutting the door behind her.

Kneeling down at Tara's side, she puts a hand in her lap and the other brushes against her cheek. "Hey, you ok, what happened?"

Tara squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. "Fine," she mumbles out, taking a deep breath. Sam frowns. "Did she say something to you?" Tara shakes her head again. "It's fine," she says, more solidly this time. Sam goes to push the subject, when they hear muffled yelling in the distance. Sam sighs, getting back to her feet, hand lingering on her cheek. She pulls Tara's head up to leave a kiss on her forehead and gives her a smile, "just a couple more hours," she says wistfully. "What do you want for dinner?" "...Mac 'n cheese?" "As my girl requests, mac and cheese it is."

~

Tara's quiet over dinner that night, and retires to her own room for once. Sam struggles to fall asleep without her. She's not used to sleeping alone anymore.

The following week is weird. Tara chooses to stay home, even though Sam knows she doesn't like to be alone. She sleeps in her own bed, and hides away, and picks at her food. She shies away from Sam's touch.

Sam thinks back, trying to determine when it started, what caused it. She thinks back to that day in the breakroom, and corners Jill, demanding to know what she said.

"I just asked her what her plans were," Jill exclaims, hands up and a little nervous at Sam's expression. Sam's face scrunches in confusion, "plans? What plans, what are you talking about?" "Y'know, for being 18, the future or whatever." Sam shakes her head, she doesn't understand, and voices so, frustrated.

"Wow, you two really are sisters," Jill mutters, rolling her eyes. "Look, normal people turn 18, they move out, they go to college, th-" Sam storms off before she's even finished speaking.

Normal. Sam hates that word.

~

Sam crawls into Tara's bed that night. She curls around her and pulls her back into her and whispers "you're not gonna leave, right? When you turn 18?" She watches Tara's fingers tighten around her wolf. "Cause," Sam continues, "I would really like you to stay, for like, the rest of your life, but I understand if you want to leave, if that's what you want."

Tara twists in her grip, shoving her face in Sam's neck. "Don't want to leave," she mumbles, voice barely audible. "Oh," Sam replies, "that's good, because I don't want you to leave."

[hoedamn-eron]

pony

Your favourite regular always makes it for your last dance.

Warnings: 18+ for adult themes, no smut though. Like, one swear word. I'm not sure how strip clubs/dancing clubs work, so apologies for that, I've just taken a guess at them. This has, in fact, been proofread, but there's probably still mistakes. Word count: 1,094 GN!Reader, no use of Y/N.

A little drabble posting in the interim of He Found the Box of Condoms Part 3 and my Santi x Reader series.

“Hey,” your name was called by your co-worker. “Your boy’s here.”

You couldn’t help the smile creep across your face. Being a client’s favourite meant easy tips and an easy shift; they usually pay well so the boss wouldn’t mind if you kept your client busy all night. You were still relatively new to the club so you only had the one favourite client.

He was running very late today, but that wasn’t new. He was taxi driver, so his hours were unpredictable, but he always knew when your shifts were, and he always made it before it ended. You were about to go on stage for your final dance of the night before you made your way home (he’d probably give you a lift).

You gave yourself a final spray of that new perfume you had wanted (vanilla scented – your favourite) and made your way to the stage as Pony played loudly from the speakers. It was cheesy, you agreed, but it was always a fun song to end the night, and you were feeling a little playful, especially now. You swung your hips as you took the steps to the stage, giving a seductive grin to the patrons who were already cheering you on.

Your eyes subtly scanned the room and there he was, sat towards the back in one of the red velvet armchairs, in his usual immaculate suit and his gloved hand wrapped around the whiskey tumbler as his eyes trained on you, a small smirk of his own on his face as he tipped his newsboy cap at you.

Jake Lockley was a little rough around the edges, but a true gentleman.

He first came in on your third week on the job. Like every other time he’d come in, he’d ordered a whiskey and took a seat away from the stage, before requesting a private dance in the back. That night, you were urged by the other dancers to be ‘the one’ that night, as a rite of passage in a way. He had made you nervous, at first; you were a greenie, and he was intimidating, in his fine suit and leather gloved hands (which you did not imagine touching you in all the best ways). But he put you at ease, telling you that he wasn’t expecting your best, he just appreciated pretty people. You had blushed at his words, which caused him to chuckle.

It seemed Jake had taken a liking to you, since he asked for you again the week after. And the week after that, and again the week after that.

That had been four years ago. He had asked you in the past if you would ever leave, and you’d answered honestly, “I make more in four days than others do in a month; why would I ever leave?”

He’d given you his signature smirk at that before offering you a ride home.

You reach the end of the stage, where the pole is secured to the ground. It’s cold to the touch and you swing your way around it, leg hooking over and you give the patrons a sultry look, biting your lip in a grin. You slide to the floor before settling on all fours before stretching your upper body, rolling your hips as the song thrums through your body, vibrating through you. You loved the thrill it gave you; knowing that you were the sexiest thing in the room and no-one could touch you.

You catch Jake’s eye as the other patrons throw their money at you. He’s always so unreadable, sitting in the back with his casual gaze on you. You felt your skin prickle and you suddenly felt so hot, despite your lack of clothing. He looked at you as though he was opening you up, reading your every thought.

You were so incredibly turned on by it.

You don’t break contact as you dance and sway to the music, your hands playing with your hair, throwing your head back as you rock your hips. You always loved putting on a show for Jake, on stage and his requested private dances, and you had no shame in admitting it. You knew nothing would happen between the two of you, but your little day dreams never hurt anyone.

The song came to an end and you ended it by swinging around the pole and ending in the splits on the floor, the notes still falling around you. You grin at the patrons before giving them a thank you and walking down the stage, swaying your hips again. You couldn’t wait to take these shoes off, and wipe off your make up, and get comfortable before going home. You see security collecting your notes from the stage and placing them in your designated bag as you go backstage as the next dancer is called.

You thank security as you pass them back towards the main floor, where they will place your bag of notes by your locker. You make your way over to Jake, who was already stood from his chair, looking at you with that grin on his face.

“You’re a little late,” you said, running your hand down his arm as you pout.

“Sorry, baby, I’ve been busy,” Jake replied. “Had to get the limo out, lots of hen dos tonight.”

“But you still made time for me,” you mutter, biting your lip as you grin at him.

Jake huffed a laugh through his nose. “Don’t I always?”

“I’m about to get off,” you grin at the double entendre. “But I can still give you a private show.”

Jake hummed as he smiled at you. “Would you like that here or at your place?”

That was bold of him. You both had flirted in the past, of course, it practically comes with the job, but there was something always unspoken between you and Jake. You were probably a little naïve, falling for a customer the way you did, and like you said before, Jake was a gentleman, and you knew him better than the other customers. But he’d never been so…outright like that. But Jake Lockley wasn’t a regular client…clients don’t offer the dancers lifts home after their shifts.

“Are you inviting yourself over to my place, Jake?”

Jake nonchalantly shrugged a shoulder. “If you’ll have me.”

Oh God, he was the most beautiful fucking man you have ever met. Why in God’s name would you pass this up?

You hum and you lean into him, your eyes hooded. “Take me home, Lockley.”

“Anything for you, doll.”

Tagged - @eonnyx, @transparent-shark

[angsty-twihardxx]

Heartbreak Led Me Back to You | E.M

Chapter 1 | A Call With Your Past 

Prologue | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 |

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary | You and Eddie were childhood friends, best friend even. When your life changes drastically you runaway from Hawkins, leaving Eddie and Wayne without a goodbye. But when things go wrong she has no choice but to go back, a second chance for the two to finally admit their feelings.

Warnings | (18+) Adult Themes that some may find upsetting, mentions of abuse, alcohol/drug abuse, slurs directed at reader(f), swearing, angst, sexual references and eventual smut. Pls let me know if I missed anything x

A/N | The first couple of chapters do go back and fourth in time for a bit, but I promise it wont last long. x

Hawkins Indiana - Hawkins High School - 1984

The halls of Hawkins High echoed with the sound of shoes hitting the linoleum floor, you were late, again.

Your pants filled the small classroom where everyone's eyes looked up at you, Mrs Brown glared at you. Your science teacher was not clearly impressed–and not surprised with your tardiness. “Miss Y/N, how kind of you to join us. I'm assuming you didn’t use your time to retrieve your science textbook from your locker?” She stared unamused daggers at you. “You would be correct ma’am.” She sighed at your response, sitting down to indicate for you to go find your seat. Which was being used as a footrest for a particular brunette, your best  friend and pain in the ass, Eddie Munson. “Hey you.” His grin reached his ears which made his dimples show, you returned his smile willingly. You kicked his feet off of your chair which was to his right, he reached his hands to his ankles, pretending to be in agonising pain. “Serves you right, who knows where your feet have been.” 

“Hey I was just keeping it warm for you sweetheart.” You ignored the way the pet name he called you made your cheeks heat up, at least this morning you could blame it on having to run twenty minutes to get to school. “If you two are done, I’d like to continue my lesson.” Mrs Brown looked at the two of you with a stiff arm on her hip. Making the two of you share a tight lipped smile as Eddie handed over the science textbook and held it so the both of you could keep up.

“Hey, if you didn’t have a ride you could’ve called me.” Eddie nudged you playfully as the two of you pushed past other students in the hallway. “You want to be my knight in shining armour? Arriving at my castle on your noble steed.” You sang, pressing the back of your hand to your head, pretending to pass out, making Eddie shake his head at your joking nature.

I’ll always take care of you sweetheart. Those were the words he told you when you both started high school, and he kept his word. “I would’ve but my father ‘assured’ me that he would be conscious this morning. Serves me right for believing him I guess, but it’s fine. I could use the exercise.” You shrugged, catching his concerned eyes gazing into the side of your head.

Eddie cared about you so much that it scared him sometimes. Especially times like today when you were late to class, even though they happened frequently, he still found himself nervously playing with his ring clad fingers. He knew you didn’t like to talk about your parents much, the same way he didn’t like talking about his, a mutual understanding. 

But you were an optimist, you always believed that one day you would wake up and you didn’t live in a trailer park and your parents had office jobs that would go out together on the weekends.

A normal life. 

He didn’t pester you anymore, deciding against pissing you off. The two of you found your spots at the table that was declared to the ‘freaks’ where Jeff and Gareth had been waiting. “Hey Eddie, anymore on our shirt designs?” Jeff spoke as he shovelled the cafeteria ‘lasagna’ into his mouth, making you wince in disgust.

Maybe if these boys weren’t complete animals, they wouldn’t be such outcasts. Especially Eddie, you had told him off numerous times, telling him it wouldn’t kill him to stop carrying his lunchbox with drugs in it. 

You rolled your eyes, remembering the torture Eddie had put you through over the weekend going on about their new club. “Oh god please do not get him started! I swear this boy has never used an iron before in his life. Now all of a sudden I’m working my ass off getting all of these shirts pressed.”

“Oh please, the most you had to do was walk to old lady Drewett’s trailer and ask her to iron them for you.” Eddie exasperated at your dramatics, besides she wouldn’t iron them if he showed up at her doorstep. “It’s not my fault I’m so down with the grandparents.” You shrugged as you reached down to your backpack that you carried with you to the cafeteria, reaching in and handing the boys their personal ‘Hellfire Club’ shirts. “Here we go gentlemen.” You bowed your head, always being one for mock dramatics, you held the shirts out for the boys.

All their mouths fell open as they gushed over them, Eddie clearly admiring his work. “Now we just need to recruit a few others, and then we can start our first campaign as Hellfire!” Eddie exclaimed happily, making you smile.

You felt some sort of pride, seeing him light about the DnD club that he was creating, he was gleaming with pride. Eddie hated school, if it weren’t for you being so adamant on the two of you graduating together he probably would drop out.

You loved how excited it made him, when Eddie was in his element, he glowed, his beautiful aura that made him different from all the other boys. It made him Eddie.The two of you had been friends since you were kids, you honestly don’t remember a part of your life without him.

It all started with you finding him at the lake behind the trailer park where the two of you lived. Your parents told you to go outside and play while they had a visit from some ‘unsavoury’ guests, so you wandered to the lake just behind the trailer park, it was the only quiet place around. His hair was shorter then, his shoulders shook as you approached him. You walked up to him and sat down beside him, you dipped your bare feet into the water, looking at the boy with understanding eyes. You were only a kid but you knew what the shouting coming from his trailer meant, you knew all too well. Without a word you split the muffin you held in your hand that you were going to eat on your own, but sweets always made you feel better so maybe it would make him stop crying. He took it gingerly from your small hand, not used to someone so close in age treating him with such kindness.

Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania - 1988

You stood inside the dingy ‘Highway 70 Hotel’, pacing in circles as your fingers anxiously fiddled with the coiled phone cord. Your eyes were glued on your son Christopher who was on the ground in front of the TV, watching the morning cartoons with his bowl of cereal, totally oblivious to the nervous breakdown you were about to have. 

You dialled the familiar number that you had memorised since you were fourteen, your fingers shook as you held the receiver to your ear. The few seconds that it rang felt like hours were ticking away. “Wayne speaking.” His voice was gruff, making your breath hitch as you heard the familiar voice. “Wayne? It’s uh, it’s Y/N.” 

His side of the line was silent for a moment, you could only imagine him running his hand through his buzz cut hair. “Geez kiddo, it’s been a long time. How ya been?” You tried not to scoff at the irony of his question.

Fucken great Wayne, my ex-husband that you didn’t even know I had, kicked me out and I’ve been in and out of hotels. Oh! And I also had a kid.

But you could never lie to Wayne. You let out a pained sob, you haven’t had anyone to talk to for over a week except the local weirdos that sat around the hotel room you were staying in. “Not good Wayne, I uh- god everything is just shit. I know I don't deserve your help, but I don’t have anyone else to ask for help and I–”

“Slow down would ya? Look, I told you that you would always be family, that hasn’t changed. You know I’ll always be here if you need me, now what do you need?” 

. . . 

That conversation with Wayne was just over three weeks ago, a week after your husband Michael had basically kicked you out, along with your son Christopher. Now you were in your car that was packed to the brim of all your belongings, well at least the most important ones. Your eyes watered at the sight, trying to fit you and Christopher's life into the backseat of your car, going back to the only place you could. Hawkins. 

You sigh into the steering wheel, mixture of anxiety and a night without sleep pouring out of you, the hotel bed you slept on last night felt like cardboard. Your fingers clutched the steering wheel tightly, as your knuckles turned white, your wedding band glistened as the sun shone onto it, your brain reminding you of the last time you spoke with Michael. 

“Why are you getting mad at me Y/N? You wanted this, not me!” Your eyes glared at the back of his head as he turned to walk away to the kitchen. He had been out with his friends after work, a ritual that he had been doing frequently as of late. Leaving you and Christopher alone in your home. He was an awful drunk, he spat venom where he would usually say the most loving words to you. It put up with this from your own parents growing up, you had no intention of doing it now. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You whisper yelled at him, making sure to not wake up your son, you thought of how sweet and kind he was when you told him you were pregnant, how he was always going to take care of you. Back when he was kinder. Even though you were at least a head shorter than him you stomped towards him your lack of height was made up by your anger. “You should’ve thought about that before you decided ‘last minute’ to not bother wearing a condom!” 

“Oh, here we go! So it’s my fault!”

“It’s no one's fault! This was both of us, it takes two people to make a baby Michael! But you are deciding now, about three years too late, that you don’t want to do this anymore!”

“You're right, I don't want to do this! What do you want me to do, pretend we are in love. Raise a kid who probably isn't even mine.” His last comment made you stop in your tracks, he actually had the nerve to say that Christopher wasn’t his. “How. Dare. You.” You hissed, raising your finger accusingly. Every time he drank like this he would accuse you of infidelity, even though he knew very well you hadn’t been with anyone but him. “What? You know that’s what everyone said in highschool, that you're a whore that couldn’t keep her legs closed. Especially for that freak Munson–” His slurred accusations were cut short as your palm struck his cheek, you flinched at the sight of his eyes glaring down at you with his drunken stupor. “You know I haven’t slept with anyone else, so don’t. You. Dare! Accuse me of cheating when you are in no position to talk!” You poked his chest as you spoke, only angering him more. You were expecting him to put his hands on you, to scream at you even. 

Instead he stood up straight and glared at you taking large steps towards you, all fury in you dissipated as you backed into the wall behind you. His breath reeked of alcohol as he leaned forward, his mouth just centimetres from your ear. “I want you gone tomorrow. You do not want to be here when I get back.” He spoke slowly, dark– it sent shivers down your spine. It was rare that you were truly scared of him. He grabbed his keys from beside you and slammed the door shut behind him.

. . . 

You didn’t have anywhere else to go, both of your parents were deadbeats, you hadn’t seen them since you were a teenager. Hell, you didn’t even know if they were alive, being told that one day your parents just up and left, and no one had seen them since. 

The only person you had that was close to a parental figure was dear old Wayne Munson. Basically taking you in when your parents neglected you, would he be disappointed in you when you saw him? You were a cocaine addiction away to turning out just like her, already ticking teenage pregnancy off the list. 

What would it be like going back home? You knew there would be the nosy, judgemental stares from everyone that resided in that god forsaken town. Hawkins was no exception to the small town traditions, you knew people talk. Maybe Michaels mother has already been spewing her son's bullshit around town, that you were a whore, and that Christopher wasn’t even his. 

You wondered if Wayne told Eddie. God, what were you going to say to him? Did he hate you for leaving all those years ago? It’s not like you would blame him if you did. 

‘Hey sorry I got knocked up and left town without telling you. Sorry we didn’t leave for California together like we planned, I lost my virginity to an asshole– want to meet my son?’

A loud groan emitted from deep in your chest, you let your head hit the top of the steering wheel in your hands. Just wishing you didn’t have to confront everyone from your past. A soft giddy giggle made you raise your head, tucking your chin into your shoulder, smiling at Christopher who sat in his car seat behind you His wide smile grew even bigger as he noticed you turning your attention to him, the few teeth that had grown in stook out. Making you return the giggle as you pinched his chubby cheeks. “You ready buddy?” 

[the-empress-7]

As I see it, Harry wasn't really The Queens problem, he has always been Charles'. So Charles rightly gets criticised for letting him run wild.

Back when the Queen was alive, Harry was the son of the Prince of Wales, ie., the son of the son of the monarch. When he was acting bad, irresponsibly, creating PR nightmares and making demands of the monarchy, he was doing this as the son of the heir. So his father should have dealt with it directly, harshly, pointedly in a way that shuts him up and makes sure he knows he can't get away with thinking he is too important.

But what we got was the constant PR that he is the queens favorite grandson, that he is just a lads lad, he is a war hero, he is super nice, normal, empathetic and the cost eligible bachelor. On top of that, Charles made it known very early on and very publiclithat Harry is part of his slimmed down monarchy.

Then Charles Ok-ed the hair-brained idea of lumping Harry with W+C early on in their marriage, effectively making them a trio I stead of making the couple shine on their own as a power couple.

All of this was (probably) done with idea of cementing 'the legacy of Charles and his golden boys' in public minds. To be blunt, Charles utilized the Halo around the solid, shiny unit that was 'Dianas two boys' and used it in a way that bleeds into his reign. He used Diana's Goodwill that was projected onto her two sons and used it indirectly for his own PR.

What he didn't count or rather did not care about, was Harry's own dysfunction. Harry wasn't mentally ever equipped to be such a high profile public figure. And his personality and character was always lacking (as seen in Spare his own words).

A grandmother sees her grandchildren through rose rimmed glasses. A queen delegates day to day family issues to responsible family members. A queen cannot be taking care of her grandsons petulance and emotional neediness. When it came to her own son, irrespective of what people say, she took him away from public life and kept him away from public duties. And she made sure to announce these decisions publicly so everyone can separate his stupidity from her. (In a way, so to speak, all of Andy's nonsense is his own responsibility. Noone says queen enabled his creepy paedo-ness).

But people do say Charles enabled Harry's sociopathy because we now have evidence that Charles kept him from taking responsibility, public encouraged with rewards Everytime he acted badly in private, polished that turd and avoided punishing him every step of the way.

For 37 years that Harry has existed, his father was the heir - basically waiting for an official job. Not directly in power. So he could have, should have taken care of this problem earlier. Now that he is king, he is busy yes. He has bigger responsibilities, yes. But he has only been king for 6 months and look how much the Harry shit-pile has accumulated.

Harry was always Charles' responsibility as a future monarch and his father. Not the Queen's, who was 2 degrees of separation away from Harry.

Well said anon. Children are the responsibility of the parents, not the grandparents (unusual circumstances not withstanding). Adult children on the other hand....my parents stopped being responsible for me when I turned 18, and even more so when I graduated college and got a job.

Here is the thing about The Queen (I was reminded of this by a friend), people seem unaware of her long history. When it came to dealing with problems that were detrimental to the monarchy, she absolutely did deal with them, arguably a little late in come cases.

Guess who dealt with Edward and Wallis in the most decisive manner? The Queen. While she was her 20s no less!

Guess who dealt with Princess Margaret's giant mess? The Queen.

Guess who dealt with Charles and Diana'a marriage and ordered the long overdue and highly necessary divorce? The Queen

Did she get "soft" in her final years? Sure. But then again, Charles is still in his 70s and The Queen was in her 90s by the time the recent storms came to a head.