#WHAT A THANKSGIVING FUCKING TREAT

[llondonfog]

TWST CH 7 EN IN NOVEMBER??????? THIS IS NOT A FUCKING DRILL I'M GOING TO GO INSANE, ALL THE PAIN I HAVE TO RELIVE FOR MYSELF GODDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD

[arcaneyouth]

whats the nicest way i can explain the concept of rationing to my family without calling them stupid cunts and whores and reminding them about that one time i was literally starving because of them

[wintrwinchestr]

fucksgiving 2023

shoutout to @justagalwhowrites for coining the term :)

please enjoy a short filthy drabble to get you flustered at the dinner table on this fine american thanksgiving day

pairing: joel miller x f!reader

warnings: 18+, dirty talk with almost zero plot, daddy kink (no one is surprised), boyfriend's dad!joel, light choking, petnames, degredation, allusion to smut

word count: 332

divider by @saradika

“The fuck do you think you’re doin’, hm?” Joel questions in a gravelly half-whisper, approaching from behind as you lean over his kitchen counter, propped up on your elbows. You had excused yourself from the table less than a minute ago, flashing him a flirty little wink as you stood up, a silent cue for him to follow you.

“Me? Wh– what do you mean?” You spin around to face him and bat your eyelashes in a display of feigned innocence, one he sees right through without even trying.

“Been testin’ me all goddamn evenin’, now you’re bent over in front of me like that, flashin’ me your soaked pussy under that slutty lil’ skirt… Too much of a fuckin’ whore to care that your boyfriend’s in the next room, ain’t that right?”

“Ew, why are you even looking up my skirt in the first place, old man?” you tease. Before you have a chance to release a full string of giggles, Joel’s large hand is wrapped around your neck, trapping your breath where it hitches in your throat.

“Drop the fuckin’ act, gettin’ tired of your bratty ass attitude. Callin’ me an old man like it doesn’t fuckin’ turn you on… Your daddy don’t pay enough attention to you at home, got you actin’ out, that it?”

You can’t help the involuntary whimper that slips from your parted lips at that word, the one you've been muttering to yourself late at night with your hand buried between your legs, thinking about your boyfriend’s father.

“Yeah? That do somethin’ for ya? Slutty lil’ girl needs a Daddy to put her in her place, don’t she? You got a thing for old men, babygirl, that it?”

“Uh huh, please, Daddy,” you manage to squeak out, Joel’s massive hand around your throat making you feel lightheaded and pliant.

“On your knees for me, baby, let Daddy teach you a fuckin’ lesson… act like a goddamn whore in his house, you get treated like one…”

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe if you see this, it won't let me tag you :(

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is thankful every day of the year, but over Thanksgiving weekend, you and the Nugget give him even more than he anticipated. When he takes you back to the scene of the crime for your first wedding anniversary, he shares more of his notebook with you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

"Why is it so crowded?" you whined, pushing a shopping cart behind Bradley as he wound his way through Costco on Monday.

"Because everyone is doing the same thing we're doing," he said as he grabbed whichever turkey he could get his hands on. "Shopping for Thanksgiving dinner."

You were exhausted and tired of getting jostled around. You were getting close to the end of your second trimester, and you felt like you could curl up in the shopping cart and fall asleep. Today was also the first day of your annoying new routine of visiting the ladies' locker room after work to change out of your maternity tent. At least you got to talk to Phoenix for a few minutes. She even made a fuss over your belly and called you cute. But there was no way you were leaving base in your new uniform.

When you looked down at yourself in your stretchy tank top, even you could tell that your sore boobs looked bigger. You caught Bradley eyeing them up so frequently, it was almost comical. When you called him out on it, he would grunt some sort of response while his cheeks turned pink. And every time you let him take your bra off and do as he pleased, he was a rock hard, needy mess almost instantly. But he was also gentle and tentative, almost bringing you to orgasm with his mouth on your breasts alone.

You moaned softly, and he turned to look at you with wide, brown eyes. "Excuse me?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up. "You okay back there?"

"Yeah," you whispered breathlessly. "You know how much I love my Costco Daddy." Now you were thinking about the time you earned a spanking during one of your shopping trips, and you didn't know how you were going to make it home when your husband looked so fucking good in his uniform.

"What did you call me?" he asked playfully, his hands coming up to his narrow waist as you slumped against the cart and whined.

"Costco Daddy." This time you said it loud enough that a few people turned to see what you were talking about, but you didn't care. 

"I guess we should hurry up then," Bradley remarked casually, but that was pretty impossible to do when the store was as crowded as it was. You watched Bradley fight his way through the produce area so he could grab carrots and sweet potatoes, wearing a little smirk on his face the whole time. You tried to push him with the cart when he was taking too much time picking out a can of cranberry sauce, and he just chuckled but didn't budge at all.

"Roo," you whined softly.

"This is the last thing we need to get," he said, and then he made things even worse by standing behind you with his hands on your belly while you waited in line to pay.

His lips were soft on your ear and the side of your jaw as you gripped the shopping cart. His body was pressed against yours as he asked, "Is she moving around right now, Sweetheart?"

He'd been on a quest to feel the baby doing her somersaults, but he came up empty handed every time. "I think she's sleeping," you told him as his big palms moved around slowly. "You'll feel her soon. She loves it when you're around."

Bradley let his chin rest on your shoulder, and you were treated to his deep, needy sigh. You had no doubt where he was looking as the line started to move up and his thumbs grazed the undersides of your breasts. "As soon as we get home, your shirt is coming off."

"You're obsessed, Roo."

Even when it was your turn to pay, Bradley kept his eyes on you as he loaded up the cart again. The two of you walked to the far side of the parking lot where he insisted on leaving the new Bronco so it didn't get dinged up. Then he got you buckled in while he unloaded everything into the back, but you surprised him by climbing right onto his lap as soon as he was in the driver's seat.

He let his hands settle on your hips with a big smile on his face as you straddled his right thigh. "I don't know what you're planning on doing here, Baby Girl, but it's not quite dark out yet. Not that I mind. I know how much you like it in public."

But you started rubbing yourself against his leg, and he got quiet, his smile remaining intact. You tried your best to keep some space between his upper body and yours while you rubbed your pussy against your husband with two pairs of uniform pants between you. The friction was delicious, and Bradley leaned back in the seat with his hands still on your hips as you whispered, "I couldn't wait until we get home."

He helped guide you along as the rolling motion as you rode him brought you closer to where you needed to be. "I can wait until we get home," he rasped. "But when we do, I want you on your knees with those tits covered in my cum."

"Bradley!" you whined as his hands eased up your sides, grazing your breasts, goading you on faster.

"Take your time," he whispered, and you could feel how hard he was getting. But you didn't even need more time when he looked and smelled so damn good. Your hands settled on his insignia pins and name tag as you ground down harder and moaned his name.

He let you collapse against his body as you came, whining about how horny you were all the time right now until your orgasm started fading away. Then his hand slid down and squeezed your butt and he whispered, "Let's get home. Now."

Bradley helped you buckle in again, and then he took your hand in his as he started quickly driving home. When he needed both hands, he set yours down right on his hard length. You were still in a daze as you stroked him, working him up and making him throb. He grunted your first name which brought you back down enough to unzip his pants as he turned down the block toward the craftsman.

"You still want me on my knees?" you asked a little breathlessly as you got your hand around him, and Bradley's deep chuckle in response gave you goosebumps.

"There is only ever going to be one answer to that question, my love."

You were practically drooling at his words as he parked in the driveway and carefully withdrew your hand from inside the fly of his pants. Then he hopped out of the Bronco with his pants unzipped and his shirt an untucked mess before helping you carefully down onto the driveway. He gave you one of the sweetest kisses of your life which surprised you before he laced his fingers with yours and led you up the walkway at a leisurely pace. 

Once the front door was unlocked, he leaned in, kissed you one more time, his hard cock brushing your pregnant belly through his pants. "Yes, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I still want you on your knees."

You couldn't help but smile as you held his hand a little tighter, and he helped you get into position to give him exactly what he wanted. After he shut the door, you yanked your shirt and bra off and listened to him groan so loudly, Tramp briefly ran into the living room and back out again. After you got Bradley's pants and boxer briefs down around his boots, he lasted about thirty seconds between your lips before he was panting and stuttering.

"B-Baby Girl. Sweetheart." You let him jerk himself off, coating your chest in cum, just like he'd done in the garage last week. Just like he'd done in the shower two days ago. Then you let him play with it, making an even bigger mess before he helped you get cleaned up.

You had the distinct feeling that if you wanted anything in the whole world right now, all you'd need to do is ask him for it while topless, and it would be yours.

---------------------------

"I'm trying my best," Bradley growled. The turkey he randomly grabbed at Costco on Monday while you were a horny mess was huge, and it didn't really fit in your fancy baking dish thing.

"How am I supposed to stuff it?" you asked him, pouting in your sports bra, underwear, and I Love Meat apron. He was about an inch from telling you he didn't even care about the turkey and wanted to stuff you instead, but he knew you'd make a face at him since company was coming over. Not that he thought Jake Seresin counted as company. Now if your parents were here today, sure, he'd be on his best behavior. But Jake? Nope.

He shoved the turked into the baking dish and said, "That's as good as it's gonna get. Stuff it, and I'll lift it into the oven for you." 

He kissed your cheek and retreated to the bedroom where he wanted to go over his list one more time, just to make sure he knew what he had to do before Saturday. As he pulled the sheet of paper from his nightstand drawer, he sat on the edge of the bed. He had to find a way to sneak a cake into the house tomorrow and hide it from you. That was going to be challenging. There was also the matter of hiding all of the flowers if he decided to pick them up ahead of time.

"Shit," he muttered, remembering he needed to get the non-alcoholic champagne down from the torn apart attic sometime tomorrow. Maybe you wouldn't notice him messing around up there if he did it later when you were in the shower.

"Bradley!" you called out, your voice echoing down the short hallway. "Come here!"

He was on his feet instantly, heart pounding as he let the paper fall to the floor while he raced for you. "What happened?" he called out, panicking even more when he saw you doubled over as he reached the kitchen. "What happened?" He had his hands wrapped around your biceps, heart climbing up into his throat. You finally looked up at him as you gasped and started to untie your apron.

"She's moving so much right now," you told him, and it took him a second to realize you were smiling as the apron hit the floor. "Maybe you'll be able to feel her."

"Oh," he gasped, relief flooding his system even as he sank to his knees in front of you. When he placed his big hands on your belly and looked up at your perfect face, you slid his hands further to your right side. Bradley leaned in and kissed your wedding rings as you guided him along, and that's when he felt her.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah?" you asked, voice laced with giddy excitement. "You felt the kick?"

"Yes," he whispered in amazement. Then she did it again, and he scooted himself a little closer, pressing his lips to the spot next to your belly button. "Hey, little Nugget." He was met with another thump that left him smiling. "I love you."

You laughed as you ran your fingers through his hair and let him rest his cheek against your soft, warm skin. "She's doing somersaults now," you told him, and he could feel something like a soft squirm against his hand. "She gets really excited when she hears you."

"Is that true?" he asked softly. "I get excited when I even think about you." He stayed there for a very long time, letting you adjust his hand placement over and over so he could feel her, and he never wanted to let go. He thought about taking you to bed so he could lay next to your belly, but he was afraid his daughter might get too cozy and settle in for a nap.

Bradley was running his nose along in a little pattern where the baby was kicking when you eventually removed your fingers from his hair and said, "I need to start peeling the potatoes."

"I can do that," Bradley replied, and he felt another hard thump. "You're right, Sweetheart. I swear she knows it's me," he whispered, looking up at you again.

"She absolutely does, Roo."

After that, he had his hands all over you. When you left the kitchen to finally get dressed, he went along, too. When you went back to the kitchen to check on the turkey, he stood behind you with one hand wrapped around you. If you found it annoying, you didn't say a word about it, thankfully. When Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived, Bradley had his arm slung over your shoulders as you walked to the front door.

"Is she moving around right now?" he asked softly.

You smiled up at him. "I think she's snoozing. I'll let you know when she's back at it again." Then you pulled the door open, and his peaceful little bubble felt like it had been burst as Jake walked in carrying several pies and some coleslaw.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Angel," the blonde said before kissing your cheek. Bradley rolled his eyes as Jake headed for the kitchen with a little grin on his face. A split second later, Cat came in, and then Bradley had his arms full of Jeremiah.

"He might need his diaper changed," Cat told him before she followed you to the kitchen as well. "Now let me finish cooking everything while you rest," she told you with a smile, and Bradley was happy someone who knew what they were doing was here to help you now. And he supposed that the next best thing after feeling his own baby kick was getting to hang out with Jeremiah. 

Jake was digging around in the refrigerator, and he pulled out two beers before nodding at Bradley. "Let's go see how the playset is looking, old man," he said, opening one of the cans and handing it to Bradley.

The playset was almost done, and Bradley would have probably worked on it a little bit more today, but he got so distracted following you around everywhere. "You know, I'm not that much older than you," he told Jake as he carted Jeremiah over to look at the slide.

But Jake didn't seem to be in a teasing mood any longer as he looked at Cat's son in Bradley's arms. "You know... you never really told me how you did it."

"Did what?" Bradley asked, watching two little hands reach out toward the can of beer before he touched the rope ladder instead.

"How you got Angel to marry you. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."

Bradley glanced back through the sliding glass door where you were sitting at the kitchen island while Cat started to boil the potatoes he'd peeled for you earlier. "You know, if you're going to be an asshole, you can just go home. I'll drive Cat and Jer back to Hondo's later."

"Shhh," Jake told him. "You can't say bad words in front of him. He's learning how to talk now."

"Sorry," Bradley whispered to the little boy who was all smiles. Then Jake's words really started to sink in as he studied Jeremiah's dark eyes and sipped his beer. "You want them to be your family."

Jake was pacing around the patio, rubbing his temple with his fingers. "Of course I do. But she won't go for it. Every time I bring it up, she has some sort of excuse. Last night, after I told her how much I love her, she tried to tell me that I'll grow tired of them and want my freedom."

"Damn," Bradley muttered. 

"What did I tell you about the bad words?" Jake snapped. 

"Sorry." Bradley watched him pace while he thought about how he proposed to you in a dirty storage unit surrounded by cardboard boxes and ugly antique furniture. "I don't know how I got her to marry me, Jake. All I know is as soon as I was holding the engagement ring, I needed it to be on her finger. Like suddenly there was no time to waste."

Bradley knew Jake would be a good dad. He obviously loved Jeremiah. But their conversation was cut short as you poked your head outside and said, "Roo? Will you come help me set the table?"

"I'm coming, Baby Girl."

------------------------

Thanksgiving dinner turned out fantastic with some help from Cat. You saw how comfortable the other woman looked in the kitchen, so you just sat down and let her work. And while everything was delicious, nobody batted an eyelash when you made yourself some carrot sticks to dip into hot sauce. And then you covered your turkey in hot sauce. And you dipped your stuffing in hot sauce.

You were helping Bradley clean up before dessert when you said, "Oh! She's kicking again!"

He basically tossed everything into the sink and came running for you with wide eyes. "Where is she?" he asked softly, and you placed his hands for him. A second later, after you kissed the few silver hairs at his temple, he turned his head to smile at you while he said, "There she is."

"I want to feel the baby," Jake said, as he carried more dishes into the kitchen. The way Bradley pulled you in a little closer to him was almost comical; it wasn't like Jake of all people was going to hurt you.

"Just one little kick," Bradley insisted, and you reached out for Jake's hand. But as soon as he was touching you, the baby stopped her round of somersaults.

"I don't feel anything," Jake drawled, moving his hand slightly.

You shrugged and said, "She really seems to like Bradley's voice the most."

You watched your husband absolutely strut back into the dining room with a pie in each hand after that. And he was still grinning as he ate three slices. Even after your company left for the night with containers of leftovers, he looked smug. As soon as he got you snuggled up in bed, he propped his head on his elbow next to your belly and whispered, "You like Daddy's voice the most, huh?"

She seemed to respond by squirming a little bit, and you had to roll your eyes. "Of course she does. So do I."

He smiled up at you before kissing your belly and pulling your shirt down. "I'm going to try to finish the Nugget playset tomorrow, and then Saturday is my favorite day of the year."

"Our anniversary," you whispered with a yawn.

"The first of hopefully a hundred."

You were sound asleep before you could respond. Most of Friday was spent feeding Bradley little snacks while he worked in the yard and shopping online for nursery decor.

"Oh, this looks really cute," you said with a smile as you held up your phone. He came running over to see what you found, only to be annoyed by the U.S. Army themed baby bedding. "It was a joke!" you insisted before switching tabs to the one you actually liked. "This one is not a joke."

Bradley's face lit up as he looked at the pastel airplanes and soft blue and white clouds. "That's perfect," he whispered. "Just what our little girl needs."

"It's kind of expensive."

He just shook his head as he continued to look at your phone screen. "The Nugget wants it."

You were afraid that was going to become his new mantra. The baby had a full nursery worth of items purchased by the end of the day. But Saturday was a different story. When you woke up late and stretched, you realized you were in your bed alone. On your anniversary. Upon further inspection, you realized Bradley wasn't even home at all.

"What the fuck," you muttered to yourself as you stood in the kitchen. Your intention had been to make him stuffed French toast and coffee. You were even going to arrange some fruit in the shape of a heart on the plate, but now that he wasn't here, your idea just felt stupid. You got the fruit out anyway and dipped it in hot sauce for yourself instead, and after polishing off almost an entire carton of raspberries, you heard Tramp run for the front door.

Bradley rushed in wearing snug jeans and one of his tropical print shirts. His aviators were perched low on his nose, and he was holding a bouquet of yellow roses with a smile on his face. You were still wearing his ratty, old shirt, and you didn't even wash your face yet, but he took you gently in his arms and kissed you like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.

"Happy anniversary, Baby Girl," he muttered against your lips. His body was warm from the sun, and he smelled fresh and delicious, and you melted into his arms. 

"Where were you? I was going to make you breakfast. Well, lunch I guess at this point."

Bradley cupped your cheek gently in his hand and said, "I had to get a few things ready for this afternoon."

"Right," you said, perking up a bit. "You said we're going back to the scene of the crime."

"We sure are," he confirmed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "And I just want everything to be perfect for my girls."

You moaned softly. It was actually impossible to be annoyed with him when he was so sincere with pink tinted cheeks and flowers in his hand. "I'll make you some French toast," you whispered, and of course you ended up arranging the fruit into a heart. And of course you sat on his lap while he devoured two servings of the meal you made for him. 

"When are we going to the crime scene?" you asked as you brushed his hair back from his forehead.

He rubbed your belly and checked the time. "We can leave pretty soon. Go for a drive maybe? Then I'll surprise you with how romantic I am."

You kissed his nose and said, "I'm not even sure exactly what the scene of the crime is. That could be a lot of different places actually. Maybe the parking garage at the airport?" you asked with a raised eyebrow. "Or my old apartment?"

Bradley shook his head. "I don't think I could get Maria and Bob to stop fucking long enough for us to stop by there." You burst into laughter as he added, "But you'll find out shortly."

You let him keep his secrets as you finally got yourself ready to go out. You managed to squeeze into one of your sundresses, but you paired it with a zip up sweatshirt just in case it got chilly later on. When Bradley helped you into the blue Bronco and buckled you in, you asked, "Why does it smell so good in here?" The backseat and tailgate areas were covered with sheets and blankets so you couldn't even see anything, but it smelled sweet and flowery. 

"Don't worry about that yet," he rasped with a satisfied little smile on his face. "Just let me show my wife how much I love her." 

When he started the engine, he had already queued up the enormously long playlist of songs that reminded him of you, and you got to listen to him singing softly as he drove up the coast a little ways while the sun dipped lower in the sky. It was the perfect November day with a few clouds and warm air, and you held his hand while he started to head south again just as your stomach growled between songs. 

"You're hungry," he remarked, and you started hoping he had something planned involving food. "I made dinner, and we'll be there soon."

"You made dinner?" you asked, panic lacing your voice. "What did you make? Is everything okay?"

Bradley started laughing as he turned left. "Okay, made is a strong word. It didn't involve actually cooking anything, I'm sorry to say. But I wanted it to be edible for you."

You sighed and eased back in your seat, and that's when you realized where you were and what he had planned. "Roo," you whispered as the parking lot came into view. There were some orange cones lined up at both entrances, and when he pulled up and hopped out to move them, you read the permit attached to one of them.

SPECIAL PRIVATE EVENT

CITY OF SAN DIEGO

NOVEMBER 28

Then he hopped back in, pulled into the narrow parking lot that overlooked the cliffs beach, and he backed into a parking spot. He looked at you as he shifted into park and said, "The scene of the crime, Baby Girl. You stole my fucking heart."

You loved him so much, it was hard to put into words. "I wonder how many times I've kissed you since then," you whispered as you crawled toward him. "Since the first one, right here in this parking spot."

"Millions, probably. Could use a few more though." He was grinning as he patted his lap, and you were there in an instant. "Happy anniversary."

His words were muffled by your lips, and even with your growing belly, you seemed to fit perfectly against him. Bradley's big hand ran up your thigh and underneath your little dress, fingers stroking your skin with reverence as he parted your lips with his and tasted your tongue.

"I love you, Bradley."

The loud growl of your stomach left him laughing even as his hand made its way up to the lace trim of your underwear. He patted you on the butt and popped his door open. "Let me feed you and the Nugget dinner."

You eased yourself down onto the pavement, and Bradley followed you. When he opened the back door and pulled the blanket off the seat, you found a picnic basket, a cooler and a bakery box. When he dropped the tailgate and helped you climb in so you were overlooking the ocean, he pulled a sheet away to reveal probably hundreds of colorful roses, but most of them were yellow.

Tears filled your eyes as he ran around and unpacked dinner which consisted of carrot sticks, hot sauce, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "I made your sandwich to your exact preference," he promised, also procuring a bottle of non-alcoholic pink champagne from the cooler. "And this is even safe for the Nugget."

You tried not to cry as you sat amongst the sweet smelling flowers with your sandwich in your hand and music playing softly. Bradley hopped in as well, and you felt the Bronco dip slightly as he settled in next to you with his own sandwich. He kissed your cheek just as the sun hit the horizon. You turned so your lips met his briefly before you said, "I'm obsessed with you."

"I'm obsessed with both of you."

---------------------------

The sun had set, and you were laying with your head in Bradley's lap, skimming the Nugget notebook which he'd brought along for a very specific reason. You read some of his musings out loud, often laughing at what he had written in there. He let his fingers drift along your belly while My Girl played from the front seat speakers, and he hummed along, occasionally pausing to feel his daughter kick.

Eventually his hand was under the fabric of your dress again, skimming along your embroidered Mrs. Bradshaw underwear, making you gasp softly before continuing up to your belly. You and he were alone in this parking lot where you got married, which was already pretty secluded on a regular day, but the permit ensured he could touch his wife like this to his heart's content.

The soft purple sky was pretty, but it had nothing on you as you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You wrote down some baby names," you sighed softly.

"I did." This was the reason he brought the notebook along. This was something he wanted to talk about when there were no other distractions except for him and you. "What do you think of them?" he asked, heart beating a little faster as he thought about his unborn child.

You read each of the girls' names softly out loud, and of course he still liked all of them, but when you got to his favorite, you read it and paused. "Rose." Bradley nodded, and you smiled, reaching to run your fingers along the plethora of soft petals that filled the back of the Bronco. "I think you like that one the most."

Bradley swallowed hard, holding his hand in place with his palm covering your belly button. "Rose Bradshaw. Yeah, that's my favorite one."

"I like it, too," you whispered, biting your lip with your eyes closed as you set the notebook aside.

"Yeah? You do?" he asked hopefully. "Because it makes me think about how we listened to the song together. Roses. Before you fell in love with me."

You started to sit up, and he helped you. "I remember. You played it for me on the piano," you told him with a smile. "That was the night at the Hard Deck when I scared the other girls away from you, because I was so jealous. I wanted you all to myself."

Bradley's heart felt lighter than air as he collected you in his arms. "I was already falling in love with you," he promised. "You just took a little more coaxing."

As your lips ghosted over his, you whispered, "Rose. Rosie. Yeah. I love it."

-------------------------

Okay, so that's a throwback. I love little Easter eggs and throwbacks! The Nugget has a name! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

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[reareaotaku]

I Want 2 Watch You Bleed

Prompt: I wonder what your dead corpse would look like... We'll find out if you try and leave me~ Pairings: Yandere! Miles Fairchild x Nanny! Reader Word Count: 3.2k TW: Obsession, Gaslighting, Slight NSFW, Porno Magazine Mentioned [Happy Thanksgiving, my fellow Americans :) Enjoy this treat]

You could feel his eyes on you. He was always watching. You didn't know why he had this fixation on you, but he was overbearing. You always felt his presence, because it was like a fog that made it hard for you to breath. At first, you thought he was making sure you were doing your job correctly, but that couldn't have been further from the truth.

---

You woke up late at night, feeling as if you were being watched in your dream and when you awoke, he was there. You were taken aback; Your eyes widened as he hung his arm off the footboard.

"You drool in your sleep."

"What?"

"And snore. It's annoying."

Your mouth was practically on the floor, "What are you doing?"

"You're so fucking stupid."

You frowned, your nose scrunching up, and you debated kicking him. Ultimately, you sigh and turn away from the young boy.

"I don't snore." You mumble under your breath, before going back to sleep. If he wanted to stay, you would let him, because you couldn't fight him. You were too tired and the energy just wasn't there.

You felt a dip in the bed, causing a spike of adrenaline to shoot up your spine. Why wouldn't he leave? Why were YOU scared of some stupid teenage boy. You were going to yell at him to get out, but you couldn't move. You felt like you were being held down and feeling his hand snake up your leg didn't help the paranoia that was resting in your head. What was wrong with him?

---

The morning after was awkward and strange. You knew he had been in your room, but the way he was acting was as if you were delusional.

"You can't go into my room at night."

Miles look at you, before tilting his head, "I didn't go into your room last night. It was probably a dream. I think it's weird that you dreamed about me though."

"I would never dream about you. Just- Don't do it."

"Well, I never did, so there's nothing for you to worry about."

You knew he was lying- Well, you did, but you were slowly doubting yourself.

---

You groaned, the music was blaring. It was loud and you were wondering how he hadn't gone deaf yet. Your head was banging and you had half a mind to yell at him. You frowned, before standing up and placing down the book you had been trying to read to Flora.

You could practically feel the floor shake as you stomped up to his room. You banged on the door, seeing as that was the only way he'd hear you. There was no answer, so you decided to just open the door.

He was going to town on his drums, before he looked up to you. He puts down his sticks and gives you his attention.

"What do you want?"

"I'm trying to help Flora read, but we can't even think with that loud music."

"Go outside."

"How about you play a different instrument? You have multiple different instruments. Or maybe you can just wait an hour to play-"

"Why are you being such a bitch?"

"Don't call me that. That is rude and very disrespectful."

He laughs, "Oohh, I'm so scared of the big, mean nanny."

"I'm not playing with you, Miles. I'm serious."

He tilts his head, before looking away from you and at his drums, "I'm sure you think you are. You do realize that unlike me, you're replaceable, right? You don't hold any real power. It's all just a figment of your imagination. Though, it seems your mind likes to run wild, doesn't it?"

"You will not make a joke out of me little boy," You stomp to him, grabbing his sticks causing him to yell out 'HEY!'. "You want to be a rude smartass? Okay, let's see how you like the consequences of your actions."

He follows behind you quickly as you run down the stairs. You rush to the living room where the fire place is. Thankfully, someone had already started a little fire, so your plan was half complete. You stood in front of it, before looking back at him.

His eyes were blown and he was frozen, "Don't. You. Fucking. Dare."

"Oooh, I'm so scared of the big, mean teenage boy." You then do something that you would regret later and throw the drumsticks into the fire.

"You fucking bitch! I'll kill you!" He rushes towards you and you're quick to grab his hands and hold them close together so that he doesn't choke you. After a few minutes, he calms down, but he gives you a dead look, "You better sleep with your door locked and one eye open." He then turns around and walks back to his room.

You hear of the crackle of the wood from the sticks and look back at the fire, causing realization of what you had done to hit you. You had gone to far. Your eyes widen as you frown, before trying to reach for the sticks, but you end up burning your hands. You could only watch as they burned to ash.

---

For the next few days you couldn't sleep. You knew you shouldn't be scared of Miles, seeing as he was younger than you, but there was just something off about him. The guilt had also been eating you alive. While you didn't like the way he treated you and others, you should have been the bigger person and handled the situation with more maturity.

You had tended to avoid him, until you finally decided to go buy him some new drumsticks. Was he an asshole? Yes. Was he inconsiderate of everyone? Yes. But he didn't seem to have many joys in life; And music was one of them and you destroy a part of it. You didn't know how you'd feel if someone destroy parts of your hobby, especially if you didn't have any family or friends besides a younger sibling. God, when you thought about it, it really bummed you out.

You waited until late at night, while everyone was asleep [supposedly], when you decided to leave. It would take you a while to get to town, because the house was far into the country side. You felt like you were doing something you weren't supposed to as you slowly walked across the wooden board floor. You heart dropped when you heard a loud creak! but thankfully there was no other movements.

You groaned when the loud engine blared in the near silence. You were thankful when you finally got out of the driveway and headed into town.

---

You hold the brand new sticks in your hands. You fingers glazed against the engravings on them. You didn't know if this would be good enough for him, but you were hoping he'd at least pretend to accept your apology.

Walking up to his room was agonizing. It felt like time slowed down and the hallways shrunk on you. When you finally got to his door, you thought about leaving, but sucked in a breath and knocked.

"Um, Miles?"

There was no answer, which caused you to sigh. You knew he was in there. You put your ear to the door, trying to listen for anything, but nothing. You knocked again.

"I'm coming in." You slowly opened the door and Miles was sitting on his bed- Well, it wasn't really a bed, more of a mattress- looking through a magazine. He flipped through the pages, not paying attention to you and it kind of looked like a porno magazine, but you weren't about to harp on how he got his hands on such a thing, because that was not a conversation you wanted to have. "Miles?"

He finally looks at you, throwing the magazine to the side of the bed and sat up, looking at you, "What?"

"I got you something," You hold the wrapped box out to him, but he doesn't take it. He just glares up at you as if his looks could kill you. You click your tongue, before rubbing the back of your neck. "I-uh, wanted to apologize... for you know... what I did, the other day... I shouldn't have done that. Nothing warrants a response like that and I'm sorry. I never should have thrown your drumsticks into the fire." You start messing with the box, taking them out when realizing he wasn't taking the gift, "I know that these aren't made out of the expensive wood your old ones were, but- umm... I got them engraved, you know, with uh, your name." You show him the light dug 'Property of Miles Fairchild'. "I hope we can start over and put that behind us."

He looks at the sticks, before grabbing them and looking them over in his hands. You watched him closely, hoping he'd take them. Thankfully, he did, but not before rolling his eyes. He puts them on his night stand, before looking back at you, "Leave me alone."

"Alright.." You finger gun him, before clicking your tongue, "I'll see you around." You left his room, before facepalming. " 'I'll see you around'? God, what a fucking stupid thing to say. Ugh, I'm such an idiot."

---

Miles holds the sticks between his fingers, examining them. They were nothing special, but they'd do the job. The engravements were a nice touch and it spurred something in Miles. It was a sweet gesture, probably the nicest thing anyone's ever done for him, especially without an ulterior motive. And to think, he had been planning to suffocate you in your sleep.

He was still kind of mad about losing his favorite pair of drum sticks, but these meant more to him, because they were bought with him in mind. You bought them while thinking about him and Miles thought that was kind of hot. Was he on your mind? How often did you think about him? What did you think about? Was it appropriate?

You had really just wormed your way into Miles' heart and now you would never be allowed to leave.

---

You parked the car, looking over the books you had gotten Flora. They weren't anything special, but you wanted to get Flora something new to read, because you were sure she was getting bored of the same old stuff in the house.

"Where the hell have you been?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when turning around and seeing Miles behind you. "God, you should wear a bell around your neck or something. You can't sneak up on people like that. Could give someone a heart attack."

He ignores you, repeating himself. "Where the fuck have you been? Flora was asking about you and we saw that the car was gone. She thought you abandoned her." He looks down at the books in your hand, before looking back at you.

Flora had been worried about you, but he had been pissed. How dare you leave? You can't be like everyone else and abandon him after you got through to him. He'd rather kill you with his bare hands than for you to leave him. He didn't care if he had to force you to stay and were unhappy; He loved you to much to let you leave him.

"I would never do that to Flora," You take a step back, your back against the car, as he walks closer to you.

"You can't just leave without telling anyone."

You laugh, shaking your head, "Okay dad. Didn't realize I had to ask you for permission to leave. Besides, I was just... Getting some new books for Flora, not like I have to explain myself to you. She's always stuck in this house and there's nothing new for her to read or do."

"Well, you can't leave without telling anyone, and now you know. I can get you fired, you know. Just don't do it again."

You roll your eyes shaking your head, before mumbling under your breath, "Yeah. I'm not doing that."

---

You were focused on dinner plans, trying to organize and figure out what you needed. Thankfully you knew it would be a short trip. You hated having to go all the way to town, especially on a busy day. Errands were never your favorite thing, but they were part of life. You tsked, clicking your pen, while tapping your fingers on the table.

You went out to the car, thankfully Mrs. Grose taking over for you, so you can leave. It was so strange how everyone was stuck in the house, like they couldn't leave. Did they want to leave? Sure didn't seem like it.

"Where are you going?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin when hearing Miles from behind you. You turn to him, frowning, "God, you have to stop doing this. You can't sneak up on people like that."

"I told you you can't leave without telling anyone."

You smirk, not taking him serious, "And yet under the eyes of the law, you're still a child. So, I don't have to tell you anything."

He smirks evily, "You're right. Yet I'm kind of like your boss, so you do have to listen to me."

"Power trip much?" You roll your eyes, gesturing to the car, "Do you want to come with me, Miles?"

You groaned as he happily got into the passenger seat. You pull open the door, ignoring his stare as you got in. You started the car, the hum taking over the silence of the car.

---

It was just a guy, but it had obviously bugged Miles. You didn't know why Miles decided to be such a passive-aggressive asshole to the deli guy, but he did.

"God what is your issue?"

"He was obviously hitting on you." Miles remarks, tossing some stuff into the basket.

"So?"

He looks at you, his brows down turned, "So? You just let him do it. Just out in the open for everyone to see."

"What is up with you and this little," You gesture to him, "controlling nature? You can't control people, no matter how much you try or how much money you have. You have a little control issue."

"And you're a fucking whore." He was jealous and it was showing. Thankfully you were to obvious to his crush and thought he was just an asshole. He wanted to crack that dude's neck like a fucking baby back rib. He wanted to keep you locked away from the rest of the world so that only he could love you. You are a stupid woman, yet somehow you had Miles wrapped around your little finger and his heart on a leash.

"You are...." You pause, a devestated look on your face, "a monster."

"Let's just get going." He ignores you, walking ahead of you, but you weren't done with this conversation.

When getting back to the car, you glared at Miles, who was leaning on his hand and tapping his fingers against his thigh.

"You are such a brat, you know that?"

He clicks his tongue, ignoring you. "Kinda whorish to let him look at you like that," He finally turns to you, before eyeing you up and down, "But you probably like the attention, huh?"

"God, what is your problem?"

"I don't have a problem-"

"You're acting like a jealous, possessive child. Flora acts better than you."

He rolls his eyes, but doesn't say anything. You groan, getting into the car and finally starting it.

---

You had to get out. You didn't know where to go, but you had to get away from the house. Weird shit kept happening. You felt eyes on you constantly and Miles had become obsessively clingy. You couldn't be alone for more than a few seconds without him appearing. You felt bad for Flora and you wanted to get her out of the house, but you were worried it was to late for her.

Flora was acting weird and saying things that didn't make sense. It was like she was possessed or something. She would talk about her old nanny and her dying. It scared you.

You had waited until it was dark out and you put Flora to sleep. You felt bad, but you couldn't stay, you had to leave, it was for your best interest.

You fiddled with the keys in your hands, before accidentally dropping them when trying to put them in the handle. You curse under your breath, before hearing creakk and your eyes scanned around you. The last thing you needed was to get caught now.

"What are you doing?"

You froze, recognizing the voice, before turning around and facing him. He was so close to you, making you wonder where the hell he came from. He looked like a monster with the way his eyes were blown out and his face was obviously furious. "What?"

He frowned, tilting his head, "Do you think I'm fucking stupid?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Well, you sure seem to think so." He gestures towards the keys and the car, "Trying to leave in the middle of the night. Where are you going to go? You don't have any family."

"I'll figure something out."

"With what money? I mean, you can't possible have enough saved to last very long. Maybe a few weeks in a motel, if you're lucky."

"I'd rather live in an alley then spend another second here."

Something flashed in his eyes, something unrecognizable. You knew you had pissed him off. It didn't help that he obviously had serious abandonment/attachment issues and you were trying to leave. He felt as if you were trying to make a fool out of him. How dare you.

"Well, you don't really have a choice."

"What?"

"You don't have," He steps closer to you, before whispering, "a choice."

"Yes I do. Everyone has a choice."

"You know what- You're right. Your choices are that you stay here and we pretend this," He gestures to you and the car, "didn't happen. Or..." He chuckles, looking away from you, as if he was remembering something fondly, "Well, I wonder what your dead corpse would look like... We'll find out if you try and leave me."

"You don't scare me."

He smiles, his eyes filled with an almost love, if not for the situation you found yourself in, you'd be flattered.

"You sure? You seem pretty scared."

He was so close that he could see all the emotions swirling in your eyes. You couldn't lie to him, because he could see the truth. You were terrified.

"Come on. Give me the keys and let's go back inside."

You looked down at the keys, before looking at the car and then at him. You had lost and now you were going to be stuck in this stupid house forever.

[withahappyrefrain]

3 is the Magic Number

For @wicked-blathers' Kink or Treat event! Yes I'm several days late, shhh, it's fine..

Summary: you and Peter decide it's time to start trying to expand your family

Warnings: strong breeding kink, soft dom Peter, overstimulation, creampies, daddy kink, choking, did I mention breeding kink? Also Peter having baby fever.

It all started when your cousin brought over her infant at Thanksgiving. 

You couldn't help but coo over the baby, with his bright eyes and gummy smile and little fingers. When your cousin asked if you wanted to hold him, you immediately said yes and brought him over to Peter.

"Look at him! Isn't he cute?" You gushed to your husband. 

"Yeah, he's quite the charmer already," Peter commented. But his eyes weren't on the baby, they were on you. 

"You look like a natural holding him," He whispered as his arm wrapped around your waist. 

You didn't think much of his comment at the time. 

That night, your legs shook as he held them over his shoulders, thrusting into you deeply. 

"Gonna fill ya up," Peter whispered, his eyes never leaving the sight of his cock entering you, "Ya want that?" 

"P-please," you choked out. At the time, you were so focused on how he was hitting that sweet spot that you didn't realize this was the first time he talked about coming inside you. 

In hindsight, you couldn't blame yourself for not picking up on the signs. It was difficult when his calloused fingers were rubbing tight circles on your clit. 

You did notice how the following month, when your family had gathered together, Peter couldn't take his eyes off of your cousin's baby. 

"I think Peter wants one too," Your cousin motioned over to the table. 

You looked to find Peter was kneeling down at the table, causing him to be at eye level with Reid, who was currently lying down in the baby lounger. 

It was a sweet sight, Peter offering one of his fingers to Reid, his honeyed eyes never leaving the baby. A soft smile stretched onto his face as Reid attempted to wrap his tiny fingers around Peter's. 

Other relatives mentioned their theories on Peter's desire to have children to you that night. You knew he wanted kids, it was one of the first things you two discussed on your first date. 

You had been married for several years, taking the steps towards having children: paying off student debt, finding stable jobs, buying a townhouse. 

It came to a head when you received a reminder from your OBGYN one night.

"Fuck, I gotta make an appointment," you said out loud. 

Peter looked up from the exams he had been grading, his glasses resting on the bridge of his nose, "For what?" 

"My IUD. It's been five years and I need to get it replaced," you explained as you pulled the app up on your phone to look at the availability of appointments.

"Or," Peter started, his fingers toying with the pen,  "you could…..not replace it." 

You nearly dropped your phone at the comment, "What do you mean not replace it?" 

The tips of Peter's ears were turning red, which was funny considering he was the one who brought it up. 

"You could just… have it taken out," He mumbled, his long fingers fidgeting with the pen he had been using to grade. 

"If you want to start trying for a kid, I need you to actually say it instead of beating around the-" 

"I want to start trying for a kid. I've wanted to start trying since I saw you holding Reid at Thanksgiving." 

There was silence after his statement as you processed your husband's words. 

"I….I've wanted to start trying since I saw you sitting with Reid when we went to my family's for Hanukkah." You admitted. 

His eyes widened. Peter knew you wanted kids just like him, but he honestly wasn't sure what to expect when he brought this up. He had prepared himself for "we're not ready" or "not yet". 

"So….we should start trying for a kid," He stated. 

You couldn't help but giggle, "Well, first I have to get my IUD taken out." 

Peter joined you in laughter, "That is kinda important." 

You wiggled your eyebrows, "Kinda?" 

"Yeah, just a little." Your giggles erupted into full on laughter, filling the bedroom. 

"So when can you get it taken out?" Peter asked as his laughter subsided. 

"Eager, are we?" You grinned. 

"I've been waiting for this since our first date, forgive me," Peter deadpanned. Despite his tone, the comment still brought heat to your face. 

Trying to play it off, you looked at your phone, pulling up the app your doctor's office used. 

"The soonest appointment is next Wednesday at two-thirty."

"Take it." 

—---------------------------------------

To say Peter was excited was an understatement. 

"Apparently taking prenatal vitamins before you get pregnant helps," He said as he held up the bottle. 

"Who told you that?" You asked before taking a bite of your apple. 

"May." 

You nearly choked on the piece of fruit, "Did you tell your aunt we're trying to conceive?!" 

Peter shrugged, "She outwardly expressed that she wanted to be a grandparent when I turned eighteen. I figured if anyone has any tips, it's the person who works in a hospital." 

"Who else have you told? The latest villain you've been fighting?" 

"We should also stop drinking now. And stop eating fish high in Mercury. Those things lower your fertility," Peter said as he read over the article on his laptop, ignoring your comment. 

"You do realize that this won't happen overnight, right?" You were excited but didn't want Peter to be disappointed. 

"I know. But you can also get pregnant as soon as you get your IUD taken out. So we might as well increase our chances." 

"I also can experience cramps and slight bleeding when I get my IUD taken out. So it's unlikely we'll be able to start on Wednesday," you explained. 

"Oh," Peter said, clearly having not thought about that, "Well, that gives us more time for the vitamins to take effect and to get all the alcohol and mercury out of ya."

—------------ 

The removal was far less painful than the insertion. 

As you entered your apartment, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. 

"How ya feeling?" Peter murmured into your hair. 

"Sore. I'm also bleeding." 

Peter squeezed the flesh of your waist, "I'm sorry bug." 

"I feel bad for you. You seemed pretty excited to start," you giggled. You couldn't help it; the slight pout on Peter's face was adorable. 

Peter shrugged, "I've waited six years. What's a few more days gonna do?" 

You couldn't help but lean your head into his chest, his arms wrapped around you. His lips pressed against your forehead, his beard creating a soft friction. 

"I love you bug," he whispered against your skin. 

"I love you too Tiger," you looked up, your chin against his chest, "you've really waited six years for this?" 

Peter's cheeks became flushed, "Yeah." 

"Pete, we've been together for six years." 

Now the tips of Peter's ears were bright red, "I….I figured you were the one early." 

A giggle escapes your lips, the one that always brought a smile to Peter's face because it was sweeter than any love song he had ever heard, "How early Pete?" 

"First date," you heard your husband mumble. 

—----------------------

Usually on Saturdays, you and Peter were up and running errands. 

But today, you two opted to sleep in. It was nice to wake up and find that he had wrapped his arms around you, pulling you towards him. 

"Hi bug," He whispered into your shoulder, his voice deeper than usual. 

"Hi Tiger," you whispered back, your fingers brushing the hair away from his forehead. 

"How ya feeling?" His nose brushed against yours. You couldn't help but admire the way his eye crinkles had become more pronounced over the years, along with the smattering of gray hairs throughout his beard and hair. 

"Pretty good. Think my body has adjusted to not having something inserted up my vagina." 

Peter grimaced, "When you say it like that, it sounds like some form of torture." 

"Can't most of the things those with a uterus have to do, be classified as torture? Waxing, shaving our arms and legs, growing a human?" 

"Growing a human isn't torture if you want it," He countered. 

"I know, but it's not gonna be easy." 

"I know," he pressed his lips against your temple, "and I'll be there for you every step of the way." 

"Even if it's two in the morning and I'm craving pretzels and mint chocolate chip ice cream?" You asked. 

"The bodega is just a few swings away," Peter assured you, bringing a smile to your face. 

"What about when I cry over otters due to my emotions being heightened?" You asked, a light tease lacing your voice. 

Peter rolled his eyes, "you already cry at otters." 

"They're so cute! And they hold hands so-" 

"So they don't get separated when they sleep," Peter finished for you. 

"Have I cried over Otters before?" You asked, confused. 

Peter chuckled as he stroked your hair, "when you're quite drunk. So I'd say I'm pretty prepared." 

You rested your head on his chest, breathing to the rhyming of his heartbeat. 

"I've also helped deliver several babies in the back of a taxi," Peter added, "So I have you covered there." 

You shuddered at the thought, "I'd rather you swing me through the city than deliver our kid in the back of a taxi." 

"Perhaps we should get you pregnant first before we decide on delivery options," Peter suggested, wiggling his eyebrows. 

"I'm honestly surprised you didn't jump on me when I said I felt fine," you admitted. 

"I wanted to be polite and say good morning first," Peter said, sheepishly. It was hard not to jump on you, but you were his wife after all, not some animal. 

Your laughter was silenced by Peter's lips, his body now pressing against yours. 

A whimper escaped your lips as you felt Peter's hips roll against yours. His large hands snaked underneath your Tshirt, squeezing your breasts. 

Your hands tangled themselves into Peter's hair, tugging on the messy locks in an attempt to pull his lips away from your neck and back up to yours. 

The removal of your clothes wasn't sexy or smooth. At one point, Peter had to get off you to pull down his sweats, huffing as he did so. 

"Wanna be close to you," He mumbled as he got back on top of you. You continued to chuckle. 

"I'd say you're about to be very close to me," Your chuckle turned into a gasp as Peter pulled down your shorts, your core now exposed to the cool air. 

Peter's body shimmied down the bed, placing his head in between your thighs. 

"That's n-not- oh- h-how babies a-are made," you gasped as his tongue began lapping up and down your slit. 

"Gotta warm ya up," was all he explained before attaching his lips to your clit. In hindsight, it wasn't a bad idea. It had been close to a week since you two were last intimate. 

The gaze of his honey-clouded eyes burned into your bare skin. He watched your face as his fingers filled you. You were beautiful as always, with your slightly parted lips and knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets. 

But today was different. It wasn't that he didn't desire you all the time, wished to be consumed by you and make a home amists tangled bedsheets. 

He just didn't think it was possible to desire you any more than he already did. 

But then he saw you look at that baby, your big eyes filled with love, adoration, and care. And then you agreed to have his child. 

He wanted to bury himself in you. 

You were teetering over the edge when he pulled himself up and away from your thighs. A whine left your lips, your hips desperately bucking up as a desperate attempt to chase some friction, some type of relief. 

"I-I know but, but if I keep going…." He shook his head as he chuckled at himself. Ironic that he was now slightly embarrassed at how close he already was to coming, considering he originally didn't want to go on a blind date with you. 

Funny how things change. 

Moans trailed past your lips, down your chin at the sensation of his hard cock slipping through your wetness. Fuck, you could hear yourself, hear how wet you were. The tip of his cock repeatedly brushed over your throbbing clit. 

"I won't last much longer," Peter finished his sentence as he pushed himself into you. 

He didn't mind the sensation of your fingernails digging into his broad shoulders. Your touch always grounded him. It was what he craved at the end of a long day, at the end of a strenuous night of patrolling. 

Peter entered you slowly, bottoming out. For several moments, the bedroom was silent, apart from your panting. Your eyes couldn't leave his. It felt like your first time again, how neither one of you seemed to want to make the first move. But not out of hesitation, not out of fear of making a mistake. 

You wanted to savor the moment. But you also wanted him to consume you. 

So, you reached a hand up to push several strands of hair out his eyes, allowing him to see your reassuring nod. He pulled almost all the way out before thrusting back in. 

The bedroom began to be filled with the sounds of his skin slapping against yours, your moans blending with his heavy panting. 

Fuck you were gorgeous with your head thrown back against the pillow, back arched. It wasn't the first time he had seen such a sight. He had even taken a picture of it before, the polaroid tucked away in his wallet. 

It was the fact that Peter was going to come inside you, without anything to prevent himself from filling you up. Chances were low you'd get pregnant right away, unless there was something new he was about to learn regarding the effects of a radioactive spider bite. 

But it could happen, the fact that you two would continue trying to make it happen, drove him absolutely wild. 

"Gonna fill you up real good, 'kay?" You nodded, the corners of your vision beginning to blur from the intense pleasure. 

"Yeah? Is that what you want? To be full of me?" 

The edge was getting closer and closer, making it difficult for you to form a coherent response. 

"You wanna what?" Peter asked as one of his hands snaked down to where your two bodies met. 

"W-wanna….I wanna…." His thrusts were getting harder, more purposeful. The circles he was tracing on your clit added to the pleasure he was submerging you in. 

"Use your words pretty girl," He cooed, "C'mon, you can do it." 

"W-wanna make you a Daddy." It was now Peter's turn to widen his eyes at your words. For a brief moment, his hips stilled. 

Then they picked back up again, this time with a determined force. 

"Come. Now. Come right fucking now," He grunted. 

Peter was a lot of things, and sometimes that was dominant in the bedroom. But he had never ordered you like that. 

"You heard me. Want you to make a mess on my cock before I fill ya up." He lifted up your legs, pinning them to his hips. The new position allowed him to fuck you even deeper, pushing you over. 

You were incoherent as you came, only whines mixed with slurred chants of his name leaving your mouth. Peter followed quickly behind you; it had been tortured not having sex with you or masturbating for nearly a week, but he knew it would be worth it. 

When your eyes opened, your knees were now pressed to your chest, Peter thrusting into you. 

Fuck, had he not come yet? No, that was impossible. He had. You remember the feeling of warmth spreading through you, his hips stuttering, the raspy goans he let out- the telltale sign of him coming. 

He had come, and by how full you felt, quite a bit. 

Fuck.

Peter felt your eyes boring into his skin. Part of him felt guilty for not feeling guilty about continuing to fuck you. 

But you just felt so good coming around his cock. And even though it was far from the first time he came inside you, it felt so much better now, now that he knew you wanted him to fill you up, you wanted his cum to take. 

Peter needed it to take, it was an overwhelming desire he now had. His mind was clouded with thoughts of you, stomach round and your tits full. Thoughts of you holding a baby that had his eyes and your hair. Thoughts of a little one running around the place. 

Your lips were engulfed in a sloppy kiss, jolts of pleasure lighting up your body with each thrust. His body pressed your hips further into the pillow he had placed underneath. 

"Gotta make sure n-nothin comes out," he explained in between kisses, his voice breathless. 

All you could do was nod and cling onto him. You were entirely at his mercy and it thrilled you. Maybe in hindsight you should be concerned about how your husband seemed downright feral for you. Maybe you should reflect upon how much you enjoyed it in your next therapy session. 

Lots of maybes. But for once, you weren't concerned about them. They weren't creeping into your brain, slowly but surely taking over your thoughts until it consumed you. 

You were in a good place. You had a steady job that you enjoyed at least half of the time, depending on the day. You had a roof over your head. You were with someone who loved you, all parts of you. 

This was what safety felt like. This was security. 

"I love you," you whispered so softly, you were surprised he was able to hear it. 

"Love you too," He pressed another kiss ro your lips, "You're gonna look s'pretty, full of me." 

That mouth of his was going to be the death of you. 

"Y'gonna be such a good mama too," the sweet words were a stark contrast to his sharp thrusts. 

You wanted to praise him, to give him words of encouragement. But all you could was just nod your head as he continued to thrust into you. The only sounds that came out of you were pathetic whines as he continued thrusting into you. 

Peter loved how your whines increased in pitch as his cock brushed against that sweet spot over and over. A near scowl formed as he saw you bury your head into the pillow. 

"What's the matter? Don't want the neighbors to hear how badly you want me to put a baby in ya?" 

You clenched at his words, eliciting a groan from Peter that was so guttural, your legs began to shake. 

Every little reaction your body had to him only pushed Peter forward. The coil in your stomach was tightening. Peter knew you were close, your teeth always dug into your bottom lip, your hands desperately clinging onto any part of him you could reach. 

"C'mon bug, n-need ya to make a mess on Daddy's cock," He said before sinking his teeth into your neck. 

His words, combined with the sudden pain of his teeth digging into your, drove you over that sweet edge. He was the ocean, pushing and pulling you under. Just when you thought you had reached the surface, you were pulled back in by his long fingers stroking your clit, prolonging your pleasure.

Peter only lasted a few more thrusts before he came inside you again. You felt spent, unable to move. 

He acted quickly, pulling out of you and quickly replacing his cock with his fingers. 

Peter's name came out as a strangled moan when you felt his fingers curl inside you. 

"I know, it's sensitive," He moved his body down until he was in-between your legs, "But I'd hate for any drop to go to waste." 

Your hands latched onto his hair as he closed his mouth around your clit. It was too much: your previous orgasms, Peter's current goal of keeping you full of him. 

Overstimulation was kicking in, causing you to throw your head back. Your thighs wrapped around his head, your body going against what your brain was saying. 

He fucked his cum back into you with his fingers, his tongue lapping at your swollen bundle of nerves. Peter grinded his hips into the mattress. He couldn't help it, you sounded so pretty when you chanted his name like that. 

"Just one more, give me one more, 'kay Bug?" He said in response to your desperate whines. 

Your next orgasm was intense, your walls squeezing Peter's fingers so tightly that you were surprised they were still able to move. 

Your head rested against the pillow, the room filled with nothing but heavy panting. The bed creaked as Peter's body moved. 

Suddenly, your back was no longer touching the mattress. Instead, you felt the cool air touching your skin, your head spinning from the sudden movement. 

Peter's hands gripped your hips, holding you above his. A gasp escaped your lips upon feeling his cock slip through your folds. 

The ache you felt as his cock entered you was familiar and warm. When you looked up, it was the first time you noticed that his eyes had darkened, almost black. 

He looked hungry. 

"I got ya, just hold onto me." Your hands gripped his broad shoulders as he thrusted into you. 

Pleasure quickly overtook the pain. Peter was memorizing with his head thrown back, kiss swollen lips parted. His hands gripped your hips, driving you down on his cock. 

God, you could stare at him for hours. 

"H-how do y-you still have anything left?" You asked, breathless. 

Peter let out a low chuckle, "Didn't jack off for a week. Been savin' up for ya." 

Fuck. He had been planning this, planning to fuck you until you were reduced to nothing but broken whines and grabby hands. 

And his plan was working. 

You slouched over, your head hovering above his broad chest. The room felt hazy. It took everything in you to focus on Peter's chest, the smattering of hairs, freckles, and moles. His skin grounded you, having physical proof that he was safe and here with you, that he wasn't still out on patrol and you were just imagining scenarios to calm yourself. 

You rocked your hips forward, grinding against his. The movement earned a lewd groan from your husband, one of his hands trailing up from your hips to clutch at your chest. 

Peter was trying to hold out, was trying to be respectful and a considerate husband. But when your lips attached themselves to his neck, your teeth sinking into his flesh, he knew he couldn't hold out much longer.

He bent his knees, allowing him to thrust into you while his other hand snaked up to your throat. 

"Touch yourself," he groaned, looking up at you like you were the eighth wonder of the world. Like he was looking up at a piece of artwork in The Louvre, and not you. 

But that was one of Peter's habits that you fell in love with. He made you feel special, made you feel worthy enough. Made all the self doubt you held wash away in moments like these. 

So you listened to him, a hand reaching down to where your two bodies met. 

The pleasure ebbed and flowed into and out of sensitivity. Your walls clenched around his cock, pushing him closer. 

Peter tried, he really did. But you felt so divine, so transcendent, he couldn't help it. He threw his head back as he came, slamming your hips down against his as he emptied inside of you. 

The sensation of feeling him come inside, combined with how full you felt, pushed you over. You slumped forward, your head resting on his chest. 

Peter's hands remained on your hips, pinning them to his. 

"Just stay there baby. Soak me up." You nodded your head weakly at his words. It wasn't like you could move, given the grip he had on your body. 

The two of you laid there in bed, your hearts racing. Once he realized you wouldn't move (you were far too spent), Peter's hands trailed up to your back, drawing comforting circles. 

After a while, he wrapped his arms around you and gently switched positions, your back now against the mattress. You hissed as he pulled out. 

"B-break," you mumbled. 

"I got ya," He whispered in between pressing feather-like kisses across your forehead and temple.

"You think it took?" Peter asked after a few moments of silence. 

You couldn't help but giggle, "Can't your Spidey sense tell?" 

Peter moved down, pressing his ear against your stomach as if it were a shell from the ocean. 

"Can't hear anything, guess we gotta try again," he smirked. 

"You seem really broken up about it," you deadpanned. Peter's face broke out onto a grin. 

"Darn," His voice was dripping with sarcasm and he even snapped his fingers for added effect. 

"What happened to wanting it to take the first time?" 

Peter shrugged, "I mean, I still want to put a baby in you sooner rather than later, but…figured it would be fun to try for a little bit." 

Your fingers ran through Peter's hair, trailing down to his bearded cheek, "Peter Benjamin Parker, you're insatiable." 

Peter's lips formed a mischievous smirk before they began nipping at your neck, making its way up to your jawline. 

"Maybe you can help me?" He asked, his breath hot on your ear. 

"I need a break, I don't have a super short recovery time due to a radioactive spider bite." You looked into his eyes, hoping your pout would be intimidating, or show your annoyance. 

Instead, Peter laughed at your adorable expression. His eyes looked over your features as his fingers brushed against your cheek. 

"I hope they get your nose," He said before placing a kiss to it. The comment brought warmth to your face and body. 

"I hope they get your hair. And eyes." 

Peter shook his head, "You have way better eyes."

"You have kind eyes. I want our kids to be kind," you admitted, your fingers gently threading through his hair. 

"They will be," Peter pressed a gentle kiss to your lips, "Because you're their Mom, the kindest person I know." 

"They also have you as their dad." 

Peter didn't respond, focusing on tracing your features with his long fingers. 

"I still want them to have your eyes," He admitted, a sheepish smile overtaking his face.

You rolled your eyes, "Can you use your Spidey sense to tell them that?" 

Peter laughed, nuzzling his nose against yours, "Guess I'll have to wait until they can hear noises and recognize voices." 

And he did. When you showed him the positive pregnancy test six months later, he talked to your growing bump every night. Sometimes he told stories, sometimes he whispered dreams and hopes. But always, he managed to make a reference about how your child needed to ensure that they had your eyes. 

In true Parker fashion, Benjamin Richard Parker was born with honey-casted eyes, just like his father.

[sashi-ya]

[𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐚𝐥𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐋𝐚𝐰 ✦ +𝟏𝟖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 ]

✦ requested by Anonymous for the free requests ➜ Sash! have you ever wrote an n sfw alphabet for Law? if not, can you do it? thank you 💞 ➜ never wrote these alphabets so I will try! I hope you enjoy 💖 ✦ alphabet template by @the-coldest-goodbye ✦ tw: mentions of kinks. toys. masturbation. minors dni. ✦ masterlist

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Law is a doctor, so he will take care of any of your physical necessities with utmost care. He will ask precise questions to assess you and know your status. Once that’s out of the way, he will lay on his bed with spread arms inviting you to cuddle right over his chest. A man of few words, but loving acts. His hand will go up and down through your back and even some butterfly kisses will be given if you crawl with your head up in search for his lips. He enjoys peace and silence. Relaxing after an intense session is what he likes to do the most.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His fave body part has to be his chest. Law loves to show off how proud he is of his Cora-san’s legacy. Kiss and trail a path with your finger tips on top of his tattooed heart, you will have him melt under your sweet touch.

His fave body part from you has to be your belly. Law enjoys placing kisses and rest his cheeks on top of it. He is specially in love to bulges, so if you have one (or he creates one with uh… you know) be prepared to be double praised.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Law is a very intelligent man and that includes a healthy relationship with contraceptives. He will wear condoms most of the times to take care of you and him as well. However, if the relationship has reached higher trust levels, he will tend to go raw. Is not that he wouldn’t love to stuff you like a thanksgiving turkey (in fact, is all he wants to do) but he is a very responsible man if you can bear children. He has to make sure you are ok with it and in which place both are in terms of pregnancy possibilities.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He was the one who stole your pair of panties. Yes, those you couldn’t find anymore when you joined his crew. The ones you thought flew away while letting them dry on that island. Those, those are Law’s One Piece. (Perhaps he has even tried them on more than once…)

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Not really experienced. He hasn’t got intimate with many people before. Being a pirate like him, and especially since he was focused on his plans didn’t let him have much free time to meet and date other people. In any case, he wasn’t really interested in hooking up. He, however, knows very well how to treat your body. He has study anatomy to perfection and so Law knows exactly what and how to touch you. Plus, as he is a very intelligent man he probably loves to do some “research” (meaning videos, too). He will be prepared, and he will learn along with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

You against the wall or bowed against his desk. Law loves to top you, pull from your head and be able to inspect your entrances before burying deep into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Well, he is pretty serious and most of the times it comes as a way to cope with his own shyness. But he will scoff and smirk as you moan his name or plead for more.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Short, well-groomed hair. Pubic hair is there for a reason, and it’s healthy. So, he will have it perfectly trimmed. Also, it connects with a happy trail that goes from the little bump under his belly button towards his pelvic area. (Also, he has a tattoo on his right side. It goes with the same style as the rest of his body, and hell it is sexy as fuck. He loves it for you to kiss it)

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

As mentioned before, he is not really interested in hook ups or one-night stands, meaning that he needs to have a real connection to be intimate. Being romantic is not his forte, he is not a person that would recite poems nor very sweet things. However, he has his own way of showing you how much he loves you. Of course he will whisper about it, probably when both are about to reach climax. But his romanticism shows in terms of actions; protecting you with his life or taking care of you. Also, placing little kisses before and after intercourse.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He has a healthy relationship with masturbation. Whenever he gets hard he will search for you. However, if he happens to be alone and you are out of reach… well, that’s when he will rely on his hand. And mind you, he loves it. I think he is the type to overly stimulate himself with the palm of his hand grazing his gland when he is about/he just came.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Law is a little bit of a sadist (we all know that) I think he is probably into bd/sm related practices but maybe not so much into physically hurting his lover. The most “pain” you could experience is by your wrists and ankles being tied. He would, however, love to make you beg and plead for more. Law would enjoy overstimulating you, and I see him as a man who would love to play in the dark with you. Not just blindfolding you, but both unable to see, relaying only in the memories of your bodies and the sensations you can experience when sudden touches explore each other’s skins.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere you and him feel comfortable. Law doesn’t need fancy beds to fuck you. He loves his office specifically and also to pin you against the big glass wall of his room when the Polar Tang is submerged. To have your body kissed by a blueish light, playing with the concept of exposing you but still with nobody able to see you is something he really enjoys.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your existence. Whenever you say something he finds absolutely interesting, he will get really motivated. But also, when you get him on his nerves. A sudden outburst of punishment need creeps inside and nests on his lower belly. The more you contradict or tease him, the more he fantasises to grab you by your wrists and pin you against the wall to teach you how frustrated he is feeling.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Things against your will. Medical play… ffs he is so tired of it. (As a worker in the medical field, it’s pretty weird to sexualize our daily work :P) Cuckolding… you being fucked or even touched by other man while he watches? Nah.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving: OOOOF MAN, he will be thirsty and hungry. You know how Luffy eats meat? well, that’s him eating you out.

Receiving: he will try to hold back, but he won’t be able to stop himself from making you gag and fucking your mouth if you dare to play with his balls while you suck. In fact, he wants to hear you gag and tear up.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

I think it depends. If he is “teaching you a lesson” I think he will go fast and rough, but the more you whimper and cry because you are about to cum he will go slow, sloooower and so deep to make you burst. If it’s some kind of sleepy sex, you know when you just wake up (cause he is usually pretty hard during mornings) he will go slow and sensual, grabbing your face, whispering how tight you are with his lips lingering on top of you and his sloppy eyelids.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves quickies but prefers going for more than one round and indulging in the full experience. He will, though, fuck you so rough in the bathroom of some place if he needs and wants to. Or even smiling pleased if you kneel down his desk while he works…

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes! But always if you aren’t in danger or the practice is gonna hurt your emotional or physical health. However, if it’s something you ask for, he will be absolutely careful and fully inform himself before doing it.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depending on the day. He is not a beast, nobody is. But surely he can go up to 3 rounds. In any case because he cares to make every round a pleasure explosion for you, you won’t resist a lot more than those either :P

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Not a super fan of toys, he knows he can do everything just fine with those inked fingers of his. However, as he is a little bit of a sadist, he will enjoy making you use one tiny vibrator outside. Law enjoys your faces while trying to dissimulate the pleasure the sudden pulses trigger on your sex.  

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

A LOT. He really likes to tease you. He indeed loves to. You will want to punch him in the face for making you so aroused just to leave you waiting or denying your orgasm when he gets to pleasure you. This happens especially if you had teased him before 🙊

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Not really loud until he is about to come. He is more of a grunts and growls man. He sometimes moans too, but the best part of it is when he seems to be in pain but in reality he is about to burst. You hear him pant and hiss with his mandible clench and his neck muscles stretched. Sometimes he can murmur “fuck” or “ugh…” as he buries his nails on your hips.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He enjoys nipple play spiced it up with his devil fruit. I had this HC since I saw what the Ope Ope could do for the first time :p he is able to create little electric shocks in between his fingers to make you squirm and arch your back when he pinches your nipples.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

OH WAIT. I HAVE A MATHEMATICAL METHOD I DEVELOPED TO ESTIMATE ANY CHARACTER’S DICK LENGTH: (sorry if you don’t use metric system, but just convert cm to inches or whatever you use)

Sashi’s Method for Dick Estimated Length: So, you need a good figure and the scale of it. For example, I have a Grandista Law one that’s 1/14.  Law is 191cm tall, the figure is 23cm. So:  if 1/1 – 191cm, then 1/14 – 23cm Now, we usually estimate in medicine that genitalia is ~9% of the body size, ok? So what you wanna do is to take a ruler and measure approximately Law’s crotch in the figure. Mine is about 2cm. So if: (1/14 scale) 23cm – 2cm (1/1 scale) 191cm —x = 16.60cm Then, Law’s dick is about ± 17cm

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Normal sex drive. He is not a sex addict and he knows he won’t always be able to act on his urges. But, the more stressed and frustrated he feels (usually after spending some time with Mugiwara-ya) prepare yourself… he WILL NEED to release some stress 😏

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Law, the king of insomnia and red bull is not the type of man to fall asleep very easily… however, there is nothing like you to put him down to sleep like a baby. This happens, particularly, after a rush energy shock to fuck you. The more tired he is, the more he will pull energy from somewhere inside him to go ROUGH on you, but then, as he finishes, he will crash and suddenly fall asleep. He will snore too. LOUDLY.

[samthestrangerthingsfan]

Out of The Woods

pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

summary: Hawkins is home once again, and you're determined to keep your peace. The past comes calling.

chapter warnings: slow burn, motherhood, swearing, childhood trauma, fluff, sweet sweet memories and friends bonding again. <3

a/n: I don't want to give spoilers, but we may or may not have a run-in with a certain metal head in this chapter! :O (just a taste, a lil treat bc you've all been so good.)

chapter 3: Silver Springs || series masterlist

NOVEMBER 4th, 1983

Friday was the best day of the week.

Sure, weekends are great, but Friday night meant movie night at the Munson’s.

“You better not make her watching nothin’ scary, Edward.” Wayne huffed, grabbing his choice of cap from the wall, as well as big winter coat.

Eddie’s hand flew over his heart. “I would never! Not so close to the holidays!”

You threw a piece of popcorn at his head as the laughter bubbled from your chest. “Holidays? It’s not even Thanksgiving!” Eddie motions for you to keep throwing so he can catch one in his mouth. You oblige, but not without a protest of your own. “I would like—no, I demand a comedy.”

Eddie bowed to you, peering up and showing off the piece of popcorn he’d caught at the last second “What m’lady wants, she shall receive.”

The trailer door blew out of Wayne’s grip as he opened it, “Christ, it’s freezin’! Turn the heat on, boy. Your date is gonna freeze to death.”

Eddie gives you a knowing look. There’s no point, his eyes send the message loud and clear. The two of you have told Wayne dozens of times that you weren’t on dates, you were just best friends hanging out.

He didn’t buy it.

“Why does she get the heat? Pretty sure I got frost bite when I got outta the shower today.”

“Because,” Wayne slid his hands into a pair of work gloves as he walked toward you. “I like her and I want her to keep comin’ around.” He bent down, and kissed the crown of your head.

You protested, “I don’t wanna bug you—“

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” Eddie teased. “Ya know you say that a lot?”

“It’s the truth!”

“You could never bug me—ever. Even if you could, who cares? Not like it’s a bad, it’s a good bug you reserve just for me; my bug.”

Your eyes seemed to roll of their own free will, “Eddie.”

He dropped down next to you, putting a hand on your upper thigh as he offered you a twizzler. “Yes, Bug?”

Neither of you had noticed when exactly Wayne slipped out.

You’d compromised that night. Ghostbusters, a little something for the both of you.

About 30 minutes in, Eddie looked at you. He took in how you laughed at something Bill Murray said, how the sound bubbling from your chest made your nose crinkle.

God, he could listen to that sound all day.

When you turned to him, he panicked. Standing quickly, “Uh, shit…here,” he said, not knowing where the hell he was going with the sentence.

Eddie looked around for a moment, what felt like an hour for him was surely only a few seconds. He ended up grabbing Wayne’s old Polaroid camera from the shelf. “C’mon, we gotta take a picture.”

You smiled through your confusion, “Why?”

Eddie shrugged, “Because we never do! And I wanna remember this even when we’re so old we can’t remember our own names.”

“You want to remember a randoms Friday night?”

He nodded. “If it’s a Friday night with you? Always.”

The whirr and click of the camera went off before you knew what was happening. “Eddie, I wasn’t ready! I’m gonna look like a fucking Goblin!”

The timber of his laugh made your heart race. Eddie pulled the film from its slot beneath the lens. “Don’t sell yourself short, Bug. Troll maybe, but never a Goblin.”

You elbowed his ribs at the exact moment he connected with the couch.

“Oof.” He laughed. “C’mon, smile?”

“Fine.”

Eddie put his arm around you, pulling you in close. A second later, the flash blinded you both, leaving you dazed and giggly for the next minute.

You held out your hand, and gestured to where the photo of the two of you was laid out to develop. “Let’s see it then.” You demanded.

Eddie pulled it off the coffee table, looking at it before he handed it to you.

He wasn’t looking at the camera, no. His eyes were on you, and he was smiling harder than he’d thought was possible.

He saw how you were leaned into him, your hand holding his as it draped over your shoulder, the light behind your eyes, the smile he couldn’t get enough of.

Eddie felt it then.

So immediate and sudden it felt like his heart got struck by lightning, and it was then that he realized two things:

That this feeling, whatever it was, couldn’t possibly end well.

And two?

He is so fucked.

It became easier to breathe.

You hadn’t realized just how suffocating life here had become. To be back in Hawkins and still feel like you were hiding and alone. Though now, and in the weeks since you’re run-in with Robin and Steve, it all got a bit brighter and a little less heavy.

Steve was committed to putting the past behind you, a sentiment he all but drilled into your head the first night he visited Maggie and you at the house.

“You did what you thought you needed to do to make it. You’re back now, though. Let us be there for you.”

He also became Maggie’s own personal jungle gym. Whenever they watched a movie or had a snack together, your daughter could be found on top of him in some way. They especially enjoyed watching cartoons on Saturdays; Maggie perched on top of Uncle Cheeseball’s shoulders, because according to her it was the ‘best seat in the house.’

Robin couldn’t be deterred either.

She’s over at least three nights a week now, and Maggie is obsessed—like, seriously obsessed. It’s the sort of bond you watch from afar and admire, the way your friend opened her heart to your daughter. How she’s protected her innocence and encouraged her silliness.

Kids aren’t exactly everyone’s cup of tea. They’re loud and messy and demanding in a totally innocent way. They require you to think before you act and never put yourself first. It’s why any dates you’d been on over the years hadn’t worked out, most people disappeared after they learned of her. Not that you cared, Maggie was number one in your life, and you were damn proud of that.

But now here you are, the life you had been convinced you’d never have was happening before your eyes.

“And ya know what else, Miss M? Your Mom fell right on her butt and slid all the way down the hill!”

Maggie’s laughter echoed off the your living room walls.

“Hey! It was December and Hillcrest is notoriously icy when it snows!” You feigned insult, and tickled Maggie as her laughter multiplied.

“Mom! That’s so silly! How'd you stop sliding?” She questioned.

Robin’s eyebrow quirked up, “Yeah, how did you stop sliding?”

You sighed, embarrassment painting your face. “Steve—Uncle Cheeseball had to catch me.”

The two of them howled with laughter, “Yeah-yeah, laugh it up. I don’t like this, you’re in…cahoots!”

“Excuse me!” Robin objected. “I am a responsible adult!”

Maggie stood with her hands on her hips. “Yeah! Me too!”

You leaned down, kissing her forehead. “Alright, well, it’s bedtime for all adults and former children.”

Maggie whined, but let out a yawn mid-grumble.

“See? Proof.” You booped her nose. “Go on, you have school tomorrow. Teeth, pjs, bed, okay?”

Maggie hugged you, “Okay, Mama. Goodnight, Robby! I’ll see you on Friday for pizzas!”

She ran the few feet to your friend, and squeezed her. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world, kiddo.”

Maggie, by the grace of God, listened. She was so worn out from laughing and dancing and playing with Robin that she crashed as soon as her little head hit the pillow.

“Want me to take the trash out on my way?” Robin asked, hands full of the nonsense she’d brought along with her.

“Is there a 3rd hand in there I don’t know about?” You nodded towards her, “No, Robs. I got it, I just gotta do the dishes first.”

Robin smiled behind you, relishing in the gratitude she felt having you back. “I-I’m so proud of you.” It was a near whisper, and when you turned to your friend, she had tears in her eyes.

“Maggie is…she’s so cool! And you’re obviously an incredible Mom. I’m just, I’m sorry you felt like you had to stay away.”

Your own eyes burned at that. You walked to Robin and pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry too, I’m sorry I didn’t call, or write…I just didn’t know how to—to be here.”

She nodded into your embrace, adjusting the items she cradled. “Well, you’re here now. Anything you need, say the word and I’ll be here, Steve too.”

You pulled away, “I know.”

Robin grabbed her keys with the few fingers she had free. “I don’t mean to ruin the beautiful moment of love and friendship, but have you thought about...him? About what’ll happen if you see him again? I mean, Hawkins isn’t exactly a big town.” She avoided using his name, and that didn’t go unnoticed.

It’s all I think about.

Fingers toyed with the hair tie around your wrist, “I wouldn’t even know…” your voice faded out. “I’ll cross that bridge if and when I come to it, I’ve been here for a while already, and haven’t even heard anyone mention his name.”

That was true.

Everyone used to talk about Eddie Munson. The troublemaker, the cult leader, the devil-worshipping freak. The boy who was corrupting you, and ruining your future.

These backwoods hicks had no idea just how good he was back then. How kind and gentle and full of courage he was. You couldn’t understand why they hated him, not when you found it so easy to love him.

“I didn’t wanna upset you—“

“You didn’t,” you’re quick to reassure her, “it’s a logical question, and sure, maybe I’m avoiding the subject, but I appreciate you looking out for me all the same.”

Robin shrugged as if it was the most simple thought in the world, “Always.”

She left after an additional 5 minutes of arguing about helping you clean, to which you would not allow.

Cleaning up after a long day, while exhausting, was your only time to yourself. It was the one part of the day Maggie wasn’t asking something of you or looking for something or covered in something sticky.

Why is it always something sticky?

The dishes were done, and the counters were clean. You plopped on the couch, and turned on whatever the tv was playing at this hour and had just begun to fold the laundry, when the stink of the trash left by the door nearly had you retching.

“Nope, not waiting til morning…”

“Steve, Steve…” Eddie laughed.

The boy threw his hands up in frustration. “Eddie, I’m serious!”

Eddie slapped his friends shoulder. “I appreciate the worrying, pal. I’m fine, I had one beer let’s see…” the metal head looked at his watch, “an hour and a half ago. Why the sudden concern about my health and safety, hm?”

Steve blanched at the question, stumbling over his words. “T-There was an accident tonight! Drunk driver hit the pole on Cornwallis. Cops everywhere, ya know?”

Steve knew exactly why the thought of Eddie getting hurt or worse was suddenly a new phobia he developed. He had just hoped he’d hide it better than this.

Eddie sighed, “Great,” and stood, grabbing his keys out of his pocket, “back roads it is, gonna take me 20 minutes to get home now.”

Steve stood too, causing Eddie to glance back. He pinched his friend’s cheek, “Would you feel better if I called you when I got home, Stevie?” Eddie mocked, pouting his lip.

Steve pushed him away, “Shut up, man. Fine, that’s the last time I give a shit about my friends.”

Eddie laughed, “Nah, I appreciate it, Harrington. I’ll see ya on Friday right? Still looking your car over at the shop?”

“Yeah, yeah. See ya Friday.”

Eddie left Steve’s apartment smiling to himself.

What a good dude.

By the time he hit Cornwallis, the detour was worse than expected. It took him down several back roads and side streets Eddie is usually able to avoid all together.

Not to mention Forest Hills trailer park is on the opposite side of town from Harrington’s place. Eddie is usually able to zip down Main Street to save some time, but with Cornwallis a no-go, it was an addition pain in the ass to avoid the one-ways.

“Oh come on.” He griped. The car in front of him was going what seemed like negative miles an hour. He whipped the wheel to the left, evading the current route and instead, opting for an old way he remembered like the back of his hand.

Even in the dark.

It was eerie. To be on this street that he'd driven hundreds of times, knowing it wasn't leading to you.

He could practically see you, the way you’d sit on the curb until he got there, bag packed with your essentials for a few days. Wanting to get the hell out of this place before your Dad came-too.

The street was dim, lit only by the few flickering street lamps. He attempted to drown out the glimpses of the past, turning up the radio, and blasting Crazy Train so loud it made his windows shake.

Six houses away.

It was a subconscious entity; these memories shouting from the void and demanding to be remembered.

Three…

The porch light to your old house was on. “Huh…weird.” Eddie whispered to himself.

His van was barely at your mailbox when he slammed on his brakes, nearly getting choked by the seatbelt. He skidded to a stop, and killed the music.

Either he’s high as a kite, or it was you. Standing right in front of him as you dragged the trash can to the curb.

He’s hoping it’s the former.

You, rightfully so, looked like a deer in fucking headlights. Jumping back when you heard the screech of his tires.

But you know that van—you’d know it simply by the way it sounded coming down your street or by the shape of the headlights shining through the Hawkins fog.

The rusted hinges groaned when the drivers side door opened. Eddie was moving, but he wasn’t sure why. Not when very fiber of his being was screaming at him to stay in the van—to keep driving. Did he listen?

Of course not.

Eddie Munson says your name so softly and with such disbelief, it almost sounded like fear coating his tongue.

You, unlike the boy—man before you, were frozen.

That was the first thing you’d noticed. Eddie still looked like…Eddie, just a manlier—a more rugged version of the boy you’d loved.

He had five o’clock shadow covering his jaw. Cheekbones that were more defined, the hollows more pronounced. His hair was shorter, shorter than you remember it, anyway and he wore boots—work boots. Gone we’re the torn-up Goodwill sneakers he’d saved up weeks to buy.

He was in a black henley and dark wash jeans, though he still had his signature wallet chain and denim jacket.

Your heart slammed in your chest. Your dinner churned in your belly.

You could go. You could turn around and ignore him, walking back into your home and do exactly what he did to you.

But you wouldn’t, you’re better than that—better than him.

“W-Why…what are you doing here?” He half-mumbled.

“Minding my own business.” The strength in your voice surprised you.

Eddie was quiet, very uncharacteristically so, before he shook his head…presumably in an attempt to sort out his thoughts.

“But you’re, you’re here. You’re in Hawkins.” You could practically see the proverbial egg shells he was walking on.

Was he…afraid of you?

Good. You thought. He should be.

You crossed your arms, “Nothing ever did get past you.”

He was stuck. Quicksand was pulling him down, holding his body tightly and dragging him into the Earth’s core. He couldn’t breathe, he was dying.

At least that’s what it felt like.

Eddie cleared his throat. “How, um, how long—“

“A while.” You interject.

How long had you been here? How long were you staying? It didn’t matter, the answer is the same.

“And you’re staying here.” He nodded to the blue house he’s rescued you from hundreds of times.

“I don’t see how that’s your business.” You we’re cold, colder than he’s ever heard you.

Eddie took you in now. You were the same in every way that mattered. Older, sure…but still you, and for that, Eddie couldn’t be more grateful.

You had new smile lines. Were you happy? He hoped to whatever God was listening that you were.

“It’s not, shit. I—I know it’s not. I just didn’t know—“

A noise from inside the house startled you. Your head whipped around, fast as lighting.

Shit. Maggie.

“You okay?” He asked.

No, no, no.

Ignoring him, you turn and start walking back to the house, when Eddie calls your name again, not daring to move from where he’d planted his feet.

You all but spit at him, “Leave, Eddie. There’s nothing left here for you.”

And you meant it.

When you were safely inside, you check Maggie, who was sound asleep.

The noise must have been the door, or the wind, but it scared to half to death.

He didn’t deserve to know her, and maybe that’s selfish, but you aren’t ready to share your daughter yet.

Not with him.

Who knows, maybe you never will be.

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

[aclowntiny]

Skz as type of dads? 🥹

CRYING YES QUEEN/KING/MONARCH 👑🥹 kept this open for the kids to be biological or adopted or perhaps some of both for all family types 🥰 plus I’m a huge supporter of adoption personally hehe

Today is US Thanksgiving but fuck that ‘holiday’ here’s a post 🤙🏻

Stray Kids as Dads

Bang Chan

♡ Such a caring and protective dad, like his kids will never get hurt on his watch or his name isn’t Christopher Bang

♡ Being an eldest brother, he’s an absolute champ caring for them, like the moment they’re born he’s rolling up his sleeves and helping out, screw gender norms or the idea of the dad not helping. Being present with his children is a joy and honor.

♡ Would probably like the idea of a mid-sized family, probably a family of three like he had! Still manageable but no one’s lonely or received unfairly high expectations. Especially if they end up being closer in age, that’s ok because they’ll get along better instead of being teens enlisted to care for a baby or something of the like.

♡ Such a multi-talented man is a wonderful mentor to any interests the kids have, easily able to foster and participate in nearly any hobby- sports, singing, dance, acting, playing instruments, you name it!

♡ I can so see him loving to run around with the kids on his shoulders, grinning at the way they laugh and coming up with all sorts of vehicles and steeds to be, whether they want a spaceship ride, a horsie, a plane, or a dragon! Absolutely soft for their pleading to indulge their play.

♡ As a boy dad, Chris views it as super important to model what it truly means to be a man- no toxic masculinity here though! He treats you like royalty so his son(s) know how to treat and provide for their partner someday. He teaches them to fight for what they believe in and be brave. Many of the same things are true for girls, too, but he treats them like absolute princess(ess) too to make sure they don't settle for any less from a man! Indulges dress-up and teaching them martial arts alike because they're his princess(es) but also they must be protected and unafraid to fight back! No one gets the better of his babies!

Lee Know

♡ Acts like he’s got everything under control, but on the inside he’s freaking out a little 🤏🏻

♡ Proud dad OMG. Every milestone and first that gets experienced, he is sharing it and telling everyone even if it’s completely normal. Like crawling for the first time? Amazing. Absolutely stellar. That’s his kid, you know.

♡ Leans more toward a smaller family like he had, maybe one or two children…and the cats, of course! He adores the idea of being able to pour all the love and care into his little family and give extra attention to you and the kid(s).

♡ Loves kitchen time with your kid(s), doing anything remotely dangerous like cutting or frying on his own but otherwise giving them near free reign! It's messy, sure, but it's also a life skill and a way they can provide for others in the future, too. Minho's kid(s) will appreciate the effort and quality that can go into meals for sure.

♡ Can be firm when he needs to be, but it's mainly in situations where they show any form of disrespect or intolerance. Beyond being happy and loved, he wants his kids to be beacons of love to everyone they meet, and that starts with teaching them that being a bully is never ok, even if it's to an annoying sibling or cousin.

♡ Boy or girl, he’s making a dancing machine out of that kid(s)! I mean, he won’t force them or anything but absolutely indulges it and becomes their biggest coach if they have any interest in dance or choreography. With a girl he’d be so soft when he twirls her and lets her stand on his feet to slow dance, a smile across his face the whole time. His son would be busting idol moves at a very young age 😎

Changbin

♡ His affection toward you increases tenfold if that's even possible once you two are starting a family! And that carries over into the kids for sure.

♡ Honestly the sappiest and goofiest dad, like he won't go a single day without telling his kids he loves them, often in a cutesy voice. Plays with them and gets down to their level so well and gets so invested in any make believe they do.

♡ The idea of having a big family is cute to him, so numbers like four or five don't scare him! But he can be talked down if you like too- Changbin mostly just wants his kid to grow up with at least one sibling like he did.

♡ Playground days are a must for him- heck, he'll be right there going down the slide with little ones in his arms and spinning on the merry-go-round with eager squeals of his own. Becomes their own personal playground, having them hang off of his arms and spin. You have so many silly pictures of them like that.

♡ Plushie theatre! Changbin will act out the most elaborate scenes with teddy bears and stuffed dogs on leashes and anything else provided to him and he will take it as seriously as if he was reciting Shakespeare. May even play music to set the scene. The kiddos laugh so hard and just eat it up every time.

♡ Has the perfect balance to be a boy and girl dad. Lets his daughters put makeup and bows on him with the biggest sappy grin and asks if he looks pretty, then turns around and plays drill sergeant with the boys. Half-jokingly, half-seriously encourages them to mix play with each other and that’s how you find Changbin in camo with blush and the boys smudging lipstick on each other’s faces while the girls try to shoot their action figures away from their dolls.

Hyunjin

♡ Really invested and emotional about the whole process, especially in the beginning. His heart just fills and overflows whenever he looks and sees the life you two are raising.

♡ The dad who’s been practicing diaper changes on dolls or others’ kids if allowed so he knows he can do it right the first time for real 🥹

♡ In his mind, a small family sounds nice, maybe spaced apart so you can spend some time with each. But when he holds his little one for the first time suddenly he looks up like ‘I want ten’. Hyperbole, don’t worry. But suddenly bigger numbers like four or five or six don’t sound so terrible if you’re game 👀

♡ Unafraid to get messy with the fam in the name of art! Hyunjin's at the table when you come home, colors splattered all over his hands and the kids' as they finger paint. Don't worry, he's covered it all up with paper and made sure at least one of the paintings is a portrait of you 😉

♡ Dresses up the kids in the most stylish outfits, like you're about to have little models on your hands! Also has a soft spot for coordinating outfits with them, whether it's family photo day or just an afternoon out with the little ones.

♡ He values all his children so much, especially the awareness that they’ll bring different beauty to the world and be perceived differently. Because of this, he encourages fortitude in all the kids, boy or girl, to be themselves and stand firmly in their interests whatever they are.

Han

♡ This man is the sweetest dad for real! Adores his kids and is always happy to show them affection 🥰

♡ Also the type of dad who tries really hard (sometimes a little too hard but that’s why you all love him 🤭) to be hip on the trends and name their generation’s memes.

♡ I can see him once he gets into the swing of things as the type to want a bigger family, maybe even more than he thought! Nothing crazy, but in his head he thought he’d feel complete after one or two, now that he has them though? Three or four doesn’t sound bad, just look at how cute they are with a sibling to play with! Kind of reminds him of the feeling of having so many brothers.

♡ You have to stop him sometimes from buying every cute toy he sees. “Do we need another playset?” “But babe, then he can run his own sushi restaurant 🥺” “Shit, that is cute, ok.”

♡ Cries when his kids cry, laughs whenever they do or at any joke they ever tell him, can hardly bring himself to scold them because he just loves them so much and doesn’t want to break their hearts!

♡ Honestly doesn’t mind if he has boys or girls, like both sound great so you’d never catch this dad sulking at a gender reveal! In the end though I can see him having one of each, and it warms your heart to see how he teaches his son(s) to respect their sister(s), value and cheer them on from a very young age. He is all of their biggest cheerleader, though, handing them mics when he’s recording or playing around in the studio, showing up to every event of theirs he physically can, and just going ‘that’s my son/daughter’ with a huge smile all the time.

Felix

♡ The type of father to describe his kids as the twinkles in his eyes! Just constantly looking at them with adoration- they’ll never wonder if they’re loved 🥹

♡ He's always wanted a family, so having little ones of his own is Felix's dream come true for sure. You'll practically have to pry them from his arms, he loves showering them in affection so much!

♡ For some reason, I see him wanting three kids, the classic 'nuclear family' size or in his words the perfect number to fill up his arms! You guys are ever-so-slightly outnumbered, but your life's also full to the brim of cuteness.

♡ A pro at bath time! Felix is the epitome of 'organized chaos' during this time, managing to get all your little ones to love the water and keep it in the tub. He knows all their favorite toys and has a voice for each one.

♡ One Mother’s/Father’s Day you awake slowly, eyes fluttering at a few clattering sounds and shushes. Your eyebrows furrow in concern, but sleep swims too quickly still beneath your eyes to pull you up. Your internal questions are answered in moments as Felix and the kids burst in with a tray of all your favorites for breakfast, all clearly handmade as the notes and drawings scattering it.

♡ Absolutely no difference in his intent with raising boys or girls… but real talk, the sweetest girl dad on the planet OMG. While he is conscious about modeling caring and providing behavior in both, curiosity and discovery regardless… he has at least one girly girl that just steals his heart and has him wrapped around her finger. Will play as whatever princess needed, incredibly active in every single tea party he can make, you name it, he does it.

Seungmin

♡ The do-it-all dad. He learns sooo much about all of their interests when they're older and reads up on everything baby/toddler before then. An absolute champ at juggling care and keeping the house afloat!

♡ All he wants in life is to do right by his family and be a man you can be proud of. No fear with jumping right in to any aspect of raising your family, even if he does crack the occasional joke.

♡ He's a bit open on number, probably leaning between two or three but more wouldn't hurt if you'd like bigger!

♡ Bedtime is one of his favorite times. Just being able to lay down with the kids and read them stories, doing funny voices and raising and lowering for suspense, fills his heart. He'll sing them lullabies until their eyes stay closed and watch for a few moments wondering how he got so lucky to have this with you of all people.

♡ Invents a whole secret language with the kids one day, so you come home and can't understand any of them. Teases the dickens out of you, grinning and bumping your shoulder and egging the kids on to say more until relenting and letting you in on the secret!

♡ He can’t decide if he’s more excited to have a son or a daughter! Practically weeps imagining playing dress up but has also always wanted a mini me??? (See what I did there?) He takes photos of the kids often, which ends up sparking an interest in photography that he’s happy to foster. Heck, maybe through that his daughter will become his mini me and he gets the best of both worlds!

I.N

♡ Playful dad! It’s not uncommon to come home and find him rolling around with the kids in a big ball of laughter!

♡ He hadn’t always thought about having a family, but when he met you and you guys began your journey, he wondered how he would have ever considered anything else.

♡ Because of this, he never had some dream number in his head and he’s happy to give you the floor on that question whether you’d like one or three or six!

♡ S-Class (see what I did there) nurse. They'll practically demand that he's the one to care for wounds and put the bandages on because he's so good at distracting from the sting of cleaning it and kissing where it hurts.

♡ They love his trot voice. Thus he hams it up plenty, bringing out his most exaggerated moves and probably bringing props too. Would not at all be adverse to them becoming his backup singers or dancers.

♡ Loves the idea of at least one mini you and one mini him- his words! Y’all definitely get a mini him though, OMG: your son wants to be JUST LIKE his dad, practically following him around all the time. He takes after his dad’s goofy smile and performances so soon you really do have two trot performances to watch! Jeongin is so honored and floored by this that he’s always saying he has to be the best man possible for his son as well as for you 🥹 he always encourages his son to say the sweetest words to you too- but don’t say it was from him, shh!!!

[billthedrake]

ACCOUNTABILITY (PART TWO)

Jim felt deeply ashamed. There was the shame that he'd caved to his baser sexual urges. Even when he having conjugal relations with his wife, the married father imagined he was fucking some nubile 19 year old porn chick from the Hot Guys Fuck video. Then, as Jim got closer and closer to cumming, Jim imagined a hot, jacked college dude in bed with them, hot masculine hands touching his body while he fucked. The very forbidden notion made him cum like gangbusters. And kept him hard after.

But the real shame came from the fact that his son had more willpower than than him. After the two escalated their infractions on the Covenant Watch app, Ryan stopped looking at porn. Cold turkey, stopping as quickly as he started. There were some exchanges of eye contact between them, almost like Ryan was apologizing silently for stopping the little game the two were playing.

Jim never felt prouder of his boy. He'd imagined his role as a father was to lead his family by Christian example, and here his eldest was taking that role for him. It was humbling as hell, but Jim McCready also realized that humility was part of the church's teachings. His Ryan had led him astray almost to teach him that lesson.

And it was reassuring to have his world returned. Family life. Church twice a week, dinners together, soccer practice for the younger kids, football games on Friday.

Thanksgiving Eve was the big end of regular season for Ryan's team. Practically a high holiday in their small town. It was a close game, which only made the victory that much more thrilling. On a Ryan McCready TD catch no less.

It was a storybook end to his son's high school football career, which is what made the notifications on his phone bright and early Thanksgiving morning that much more of a surprise.

Covenant Watch showed 92 infractions.

"Fuck!" Jim thought to himself, almost saying it out loud. He was mad at Ryan, genuinely mad. This wasn't dipping his toes into sin, it was wallowing in it. And Jim was mad that Ryan was doing this only because the teen expected his father wouldn't do shit to stop him. Jim was angry he'd been made accomplice to this, because of his own weakness.

Jim slipped on some casual clothes and made his way to his study. He wasn't sure he could use the excuse of checking work emails on Thanksgiving morning, but he needed privacy.

Every video was a gay porn video. Jim began clicking on each link. There were ones of jocks with coaches, and ones with two college-looking guys fooling around. There were amateur hookup ones, and some gloryhole cocksucking vids. Jim was lightheaded as he watched each one.

He wasn't going to get through 92 of them, or close. He didn't have time. And he was too turned on. He quietly lowered his sweats and spit into his palm. He went back to one of the coach and jock ones and pressed play. Four tugs was all it took for the man to send his cum flying all over his desk.

"Fuck!" he grunted as he came down. He grabbed some Kleenex to wipe off and clean up. He felt out of control, like a teenager, like Ryan, but strangely the intense emotions of guilt were gone. A good orgasm will do that for you.

Even when his son came down for breakfast, sleepy from what was clearly a late night stroking off, Jim didn't feel self conscious. Ryan and he had more in common than he ever expected. Jim wondered if he'd have to have a talk to check in with his son.

Ryan took a private moment later that morning to lean in and whisper to his father. "I needed to treat myself after winning the game last night," he said. "Hope that's OK, Dad."

Jim McCready was in full accomplice mode now. Ryan knew he wasn't going to say anything or do anything. And the comment was as much to save face for Jim as anything.

Still, the father didn't want to let on that anything bothered him. If Ryan was gonna make Jim his accountability accomplice, he was gonna lean into it all. "With that catch buddy, you probably earned more than 92 dings."

Ryan was surprised, at first. But then broke into a smile. "That was pretty awesome, right?"

Jim clipped his son's strong back with his hand, a paternal pat of affection. "Insane, Killer..." Jim winked. "Doesn't mean you don't get out of helping out your mother today, though."

Ryan laughed. One of his duties was to help with the prep and cleanup for his mom for Thanksgiving dinner. He was kind of her go-fer for the morning. "I'll get dressed."

***

Jim felt like he'd handled it well. This was just Ryan's hormones spiking. The kid would get over his kink soon. Find his willpower again. Hopefully settle down with a steady girfriend, though Jim's doubts there were starting to nag him.

Besides, he had his own hormones out of control. He found himself with an alone moment and idly pulled out his phone. "Two can play at this, kiddo," he said quietly and pulled up Pornhub. Selected Gay setting and searched for "coach." Some of the thumbnails looked fake. 28-year old "jocks" with 30-year old "coaches." Fake sets, fake clothes. But one was real enough. Hidden camera, dim lighting, real bodies. The jock was of age, Jim reflected thankfully, but maybe a college freshman or sophomore. Bent over a standard-issue metal desk and getting railed by a beefy coach, zip up top and whistle around his neck and naked from the waist down.

Jim McCready was hard as a rock. Even after jerking off that morning, his dick pressed a thick ridge in his jeans. He didn't have time to watch more than this and over the next four minutes he forgot he was doing this to taunt Ryan. He was caught up in the fantasy and his own bodily response to watching two men fuck.

"Fuck," he hissed as he closed the vid and slid the phone back in his pocket. He was hyperventilating. He reached down to grip his boner, trying to pinch it into submission. Thinking about his work stresses or the friendly wager he had with his buddies on the Cowboys and Lions games that day.

When he was presentable, he made his way back to the family room. The younger kids were watching some movie on TV, and the domestic scene made Jim feel another pang of guilt. He had a wonderful family, a devout family, and here he and Ryan were sinning. Not just sinning, but enjoying their mutual sin.

But the father let his attention drift into the movie.

"Hey Dad," Ryan's voice said from behind him. Jim turned to see his strapping son standing there, car keys in hand. "Mom wanted me to go pick up some milk at the convenience store... need anything?"

Jim used to chastise Ryan for going out underdressed for winter weather, but the kid seemed not to have a normal relationship to cold. It might be Alabama, but it was still November. Only now the father was glad to see Ryan in just shorts and his FCA t-shirt, the gold cross necklace matching his father's. Maybe it was the way Ryan's clean-cut image hid a truly naughty side.

"I'm good, buddy," he said, trying to take his eyes off his son's lean, tall, muscular body.

Jim was still processing his thoughts after Ryan left when he felt his phone vibrate. There was a text from Ryan.

"Good taste."

It was cheeky and impertinent and just the right thing to write to turn Jim on. Somehow Ryan's text arrived right before the Covenant Watch notification. "Video watched: Pornub, Coach fucks player after the game"

Jim McCready's heart pounded. He slyly looked to make sure the family was engrossed in the TV before he typed a reply. "I would have thought 92 would have been enough for you, kiddo." Gently chastising but mostly playful.

Ryan's reply was immediate. "I'm 18, Dad. What do you think?"

Jim's throat felt tight. He was getting horny. Again. The idea of Ryan getting off multiple times a day fueled his imagination. "I think I should be stricter with you," he wrote back. Jim couldn't tell if he meant it tongue-in-cheek or earnestly.

Ryan didn't reply. Hell, for all the times he'd told his son not to text and drive, he should have been happy. But Jim worried he'd put an end to his game. And he hated that he wanted it to continue.

Ryan picked it back up when the father least expected it. There was always a flurry of activity in the McCready household as the kids helped their mother bring all the food to the table and as Jim poured the water glasses at each place setting. They were just sitting down when Ryan appeared, face flushed. His son was up to something, Jim knew, and from the buzz in his pocket, Jim had a good idea what.

"Let's say grace," he said. Then he led the family in prayer.

The meal was sweet torture for Jim. Keeping his good-father poker face on while they ate and talked. He didn't feel boner-horny but that kind of nervous energy horny. And Ryan's flitting eye contact had something else going on. The kiddo was nervous.

And when they'd finished up, Ryan offered to do Jim's normal task of cleaning up. "You go watch the game, Dad," he said. "I got this."

Jim's wife gave a look of pleasant surprise. Jim returned it the best he could but he had a feeling Ryan had an ulterior motive.

The women in the McCready household would watch Auburn football but had no use for the NFL. So Jim's wife and their two daughters got ready to go out to the park for a post-meal walk. They were always making talk about eating too much and needing to walk off their meal.

They'd barely left when Jim checked his phone. The Covenant Watch notification read: " Video watched: XVideos, Gaycest, Sauna Time." The father looked over at his two boys. Mitchell was engrossed in the game. Ryan was pretending to be, while sneaking glances over at his dad.

Jim gulped. His heart raced. This was so wrong.

Slyly he picked up his phone again and typed out a text to Ryan. "Can't wait to watch it buddy." Blushing as he did.

Ryan smiled as he read it. And quickly typed back a reply. "It's really good, Dad."

Jim was throwing hard. He didn't really want Ryan to see his boner, and he definitely didn't want Mitchell seeing it. With a lewd thought the father realized his younger son would probably grow into the studly jock looks Ryan had. But that was a ways off.

The dad slid the phone into his pocket and waited for a commercial break. His hardon had almost gone down. Almost. He stood up from the couch and made his way to the restroom. He probably didn't have a lot of time, but he needed to watch this, at least part of it.

His heart was in his throat he was so excited. The title promised the taboo material, but surely this wasn't gonna be what Jim thought it was? As he clicked and watched, it was. There wasn't any explicit dad-and-son dialogue, but the two guys were clearly cast that way, in a sauna, getting hard with each other, before sucking each other.

Jim wanted to stroke. But he was already taking longer in there than he should. If Mitchell hadn't been around, he thought with a shudder. With a pinch at the base of his prick, he willed himself into a softer state then stuffed his meat back into his briefs.

His face was flushed when he returned. Ryan noticed and had a grin. Mitchell was oblivious.

"Good?" came Ry's text.

Unconsciously, Jim nodded. But he typed anyway. "The best I've seen."

Ryan gave a darting glance over to his little brother. The jock was enjoying the sneaking around, Jim knew. Jim couldn't tell if he enjoyed that part too or if it was just uncomfortable torture.

A message came in on Jim's phone. "I've thought about that for a while."

Jim hadn't. But he knew he would now, and the idea Ryan had perved on him only made the idea hotter. "Yeah buddy?" he typed, now getting into the flirtation.

"You have no idea Dad." Ryan's cocky expression was giving way to a shy one.

Jim grinned now. "Maybe you can tell me sometime."

"I'd like that sir."

Jim McCready was boned now. Full on hard. He angled his body so Mitch couldn't see. But he spread his legs so Ryan could.

The high school senior smirked and did his own manspreading. There was a hard ridge riding up his son's loose shorts.

Just then the front door opened, the sound coming in from the other room. The women were back.

***

Ryan woke up late. He'd stayed up edging before finally shooting a huge load. It wasn't quite 92 videos this time, but it was a couple dozen. And some incest porn stories. He was a little mad at himself for even denying himself porn before.

He had to laugh at his morning wood now. His father had actually eyed up his cock. And shown his own. Ryan leaned up in bed. Plenty of time to take care of his needs later. Maybe he and Dad could tease each other some more. Ryan was VERY surprised at how this had escalated. Maybe the acorn doesn't fall far from the tree.

And, as he checked his phone, there were 117 Covenant Watch infractions. Most incest themed, at least the top listings. Ryan didn't bother to scroll through them all.

"Fuck!" he gasped.

He got dressed and made his way down to the kitchen. It was empty and he could see why. It was 10 AM. His mom and sisters liked to hit the Black Friday sales. Ryan wandered through the house. He had a good idea where his father was. Indeed as he approached his father's study, he saw the door cracked. He gave a quick knock.

"Come in, buddy," came his father's voice.

His dad was seated as his desk, in his preppy polo shirt that molded to his fit muscular upper body. From where Ryan stood he wasn't sure what his father was wearing below the waist, but the man's hand was down at his crotch, clearly jerking off while he held the phone in his other hand.

Jim looked up at him with a horny look. "Mitchell's over at his friend's, the girls are gone... it's just us, Killer." The tone was jocular but with a raspy edge to it.

"Yeah?" Ryan asked. The implications setting in.

Jim nodded and with a fateful motion he set down his phone and stood up. The man was indeed naked beyond the polo, and a thick hard ridge of dad meat stood up, a slight curve to the otherwise ramrod straight boner.

"Fuck!" his son gasped. Any retreat of his morning wood was giving way to a renewed hardon.

Jim's heart raced. This was so wrong, and he couldn't even believe he was doing this. Showing off his cock to Ry. But the young stud had worked him up, enraged him as surely as waving a red flag at an angry bull. The father's libido was now out of control. "You wanted to see me, right?"

Ryan nodded. He'd been the one to push the envelope so it was wild to see his father take the initiative like this. Silently he pushed his own shorts down, over his matching teen boner.

"Nice..." Jim grinned. "You're hotter than those porn dudes," he added.

Ryan could barely speak he was so horny. "You, too. I mean... fuck!"

Jim walked around, slowly, his thick hard paternal dick waving some with his steps. "We got a few hours alone, buddy."

Ryan was moving toward his dad, too. Was this really gonna happen? The touch of his father's hand on his hip was the first indication it would. Then a second later, their dicks touched, two McCready cocks making contact.

"God help me, son," Jim hissed as leaned in and turned his head just slightly before his lips pressed against Ryan's.

The jock was light headed as he felt his father's tongue trace his lips, then press into Ryan's opening mouth. It was his first french kiss was a dude, and it was his own dad. The videos of incest had been hot as fuck, but this was on another level. Pure mindblowing thrill. He hissed back and started feeling up any bit of his dad's body he could.

Jim was doing the same, humping Ryan's hard crotch and feeling up the kid's bare ass. "My room or yours buddy?" the man finally asked with a bedroom voice Ryan had never heard from his father. It was one that could have barely imagined. Sultry, deep, and playful.

"God, yours, Dad," he hissed. It was SO wrong to fool around in his parent's bed, and yet that's what Ryan wanted.

Jim grinned at that and gave Ryan's rump a light slap. For 18, the kid had an amazing rump, muscular and thick. "Naughty boy," he hissed. "My room it is."

Ryan's heart was pounding double time as his Dad led the way. Jim had an incredible ass, too, meatier and thicker with age. But his father was in shape and still a total stud. The two stripped down completely before the man sat on the bed's edge and pulled Ryan's cock body toward him. They kissed in that position a second, before Jim grunted and used his strength to leverage his football jock son up and on to the mattress.

Ryan was seeing a new Jim McCready, and feeling his father in all the man's nakedness too, as Jim climbed on top of his son, kissing and mauling every inch of the younger flesh.

"Dad," Ryan grunted. So turned on, but his mind racing a million miles an hour. "We could get caught."

"Fuck yeah we could," Jim growled before covering his son's mouth with his own. Again, that deep tongue kiss, more urgent than before. Jim McCready was full-on enraged with lust and it was rubbing off on Ryan. The older man had a grin when he finally pulled back. "But we're probably not gonna."

Already his was using his legs to push his son's legs apart. "You cherry, Ry?" he asked in a throaty rasp.

Ryan nodded. He was nervous but harder than he'd ever been in his life. Feeling his dad's body, seeing his dad's cock, and witnessing his dad's sexual hunger. That gold cross necklace a reminder of his father's outstanding public persona, a contrast to the sin they were committing now. "Yes, sir."

That answer made Jim's nostrils flare in excitement. Already he was reaching over for lube in the nightstand. It didn't get a lot of use. His and Kelly's sex life was normal, vanilla, and while Jim resorted to masturbation some he kept his habit in check. At least until lately.

"You can say no anytime, Ryan," he said, the father role returning, even as he applied the liquid to his son's jock hole.

"I want it, Dad," Ryan answered, his body breaking into goosebumps to feel his Dad's finger circle then penetrate his tight sphincter. He looked down at where Jim's arm was wedged between his spread legs and back up into this dad's hungry eyes. "I'm scared," the teen added. "But I want it."

Jim nodded. His finger pressed in and out slowly. "I got ya buddy. I just want this SO bad." He leaned in and kissed his boy while he fingered Ryan with a second digit. Then a third.

They didn't extend the foreplay. They were too worked up, and they'd been building up to this for the last 24 hours.

Ryan wish it didn't hurt, but the penetration stung.

"There, buddy," Jim said, the softer side of his bedroom voice coming out. "I'm inside in ya, Killer. Inside my son."

"Fuck, Dad," Ryan gasped. The psychological side of the incest fuck was winning out over the physical sensation.

More dad dick was sliding in him. "This is what you wanted right? What you wanted when you first sent me those videos?"

Ryan pulled his legs wider. Trying to accept his father inside him. He needed every inch of his dad now. "I don't know. Is this what you wanted when you set up the accountability buddies thing?"

Jim bottomed out and wildly kissed his son again. Not a protracted kiss, but deep. He pulled back with a leer on his face. Already his was pumping Ryan, fucking him. "I had no fucking idea, Killer. No idea how depraved I was."

"I like you depraved, Dad." Ryan said, maybe louder than he should. But they had the house to themselves. Hopefully.

His dad's hips pumped faster. The physicality of the cock thrusting in and out felt good to Ryan, the harshness turning into a pleasant intensity that made his ass and cock and hole buddy buzz.

"You got it, Ry. Gonna be hard to keep my hands off you." The man was losing focus, the pleasure and tightness of Ryan's ass getting him close so soon. He paused and reached over for the lube again. He'd watched this in the videos, the bottom jerking off while getting fucked. He wanted his son to get off, too, like one of those porn dudes.

The second Ryan's hand wrapped around his lubed prick, the sensations in his ass felt night and day different. No longer challenging, every movement of his father's cock, whether small or deeper, made his cock feel more pleasurable.

"Go for it, buddy," Jim urged. Fucking faster, leaning in more to gaze down into Ryan's youthful handsome face. The father was gonna cum any minure, any second, but he hoped his son would get there too.

"Fuck me Dad!" the jock cried, his toes curling and his body entering a deep O.

"God yeah, Ry! Shoot it!" Jim watched in excitement as heavy ropes of white cum shot out and landed on Ryans' mostly smooth ripped torso.

Three more hard shoves was all it took for Jim to unload. Ass fucking was so different than sex with Kelly. Jim was addicted.

The father and son made out, clinging to one another while the dad's prick slowly softened and retreated it.

Jim was in tender lover mode as he stroked Ryan's hair and held the boy close. "So.. I got your cherry...."

"Yes, sir," Ryan said. It was wild the number hormones did on you, the teen thought. Making you hard charging one minute, clingy the next. He'd experienced this with girls, but with his dad it was a hundred times deeper. "I'm glad you got it."

"I'm going to hell," Jim said, half a joking comment but the religious misgivings were real and coming on strong.

"It'll be worth it," Ryan said softly. "Please... don't freak out on me, Dad."

Jim gave a smile and patted Ryan's warm chest. "OK, no freaking out, buddy. Promise." He looked up at the clock. "We have maybe two hours. Wanna get showered off?"

Ryan nodded. He was glad his father helped him up off the bed. The jock felt surprisingly drained from the sex.

The energy came back as they shared a shower, though. Sudsing and rinsing each other. Kissing each other beneath the spray. Getting hard again. Jim held his son and pulled the wet warm athletic body toward his. The kid was right. Hell would be worth it. His hands snaked down to cup Ryan's bubble ass, a finger digging in naughtily.

"How you doing down there, Killer?" Jim asked, concern but also flirtation in his voice. The father felt very honored to have taken his stud son's anal virginity.

Ryan gave a soft grin. "Empty, sir."

Jim let out a soft grunt. He kissed Ryan, harder, then pulled off and turned the football jock around.

Ryan knew what was happening and he wanted it. Who knows how often he and Dad would have the chance for this. He braced one arm against the tile wall and reached back to pull one cheek apart, letting his father in.

Jim was fuck hard now, and quickly sudsed up for lubrication. The entry was easy now, Ryan now learning how to relax.

Ryan grunted a grunt of pleasure. His dad hit some amazing spot deep inside him. "Yes," he hissed just as he felt his dad's lips kiss the back of his neck.

"It's like fucking honeymoon sex," Jim growled. Thrusting into his boy once more.

It was a thrill to hear his dad curse and get that bedroom voice. But Ryan's head also went to the idea of his dad fucking his mother on their honeymoon. Maybe that's when Ryan was conceived...

Their pairing was less verbal as the men communicated with their bodies. Jim's slow but urgent pump in and out of Ryan's ass, the father's hands caressing and holding the jock's wet muscle. Ryan arching his back in just the right position to be taken.

Jim came alone this time. His muscular middle aged body thrusting more spasmodically into his son's smoother one, the grip around Ryan's torso getting tighter and more possessive as he nutted inside his son's bare ass for a second time. Then the soft kisses and relaxation returning.

"God, Dad," Ryan whined. He so turned on. He never wanted this feeling to end yet he also needed to get off.

There was that light smack again as Jim withdrew. "Turn around," came the back of an order.

Ryan complied automatically, showing off a hardon that was matched in size and shape to his father's. Not a twin, but clearly related.

Already Jim was crouching down in the shower, the spray soaking his hair as he leaned in and swallowed his boy's prick.

"Yeah!" Ryan gasped. He was so primed it wasn't going to take long. Just six or so bobs of his father's mouth on his cock did it. Ryan was spurting hard and heavy into Jim's craw.

The jock didn't know what to expect but he watched as his dad clearly swallow it all. The man had a proud look on his face when he finally stood up too. "All right, let's get dressed. I better air out the bedroom too."

Ryan was concerned that the post-nut business-like vibe was his Dad's way of feeling guilty. Or dealing with the guilty. As he went back to his room and got properly dressed, Ry felt like he should be feeling guilty himself. But he wasn't. He went to his father's study and gathered his and his dad's shorts and brought them and his father's phone to him.

"No one can fucking know," Jim said. Not harshly but clearly needing to say it.

"Of course, Dad. Jesus."

Jim smiled and patted Ryan's arm. "You've certainly grown into a fine looking man."

Ryan grinned back. He could see a glint in his dad's eyes. "You wanting round three, sir?"

Jim laughed. "Can't fucking risk it, buddy. But yeah..."

An idea occurred to him. "Why don't you keep a watch?"

That got the dad excited. "You mean?"

Ryan nodded. So Jim stepped to the bedroom window, where he could peer out onto the driveway.

Meanwhile his son knelt down and started unzipping his father's jeans. The dick was plump and firmed out completely in Ryan's fingers.

"Oh yeah, buddy," Jim hissed. Ryan had about as much technique as he did - not a lot - but it didn't matter. His kid was eager and the idea of getting a Ryan McCready blowjob had Jim getting close in due order.

"I'm gonna blow," that bedroom voice hissed. A warning.

Ryan kept at it, though, sucking a little faster and trying to take another inch of his dad's cock into his throat. The whole experience was incredible. He didn't even know if he'd enjoy sucking another guy remotely like he did his father.

The cum shot wasn't heavy. Just a spurt and some dribbles. But Ryan was tasting his dad's cum for the first time. Sweet and briny. He knew he'd want more in the future.

He finally backed off to see his dad grinning down on him, even as the man was already tucking himself back into his jeans. "That, young man, was amazing." He looked out the window. "Fuck!" he grunted.

Ryan didn't need to be told. He got up and made his way down to the family room. He turned on the TV and found some ESPN channel, right before he heard his mom and sisters walk in.

"You're dressed," his mother said when she saw Ryan. "I thought you might sleep in the whole day." Then, "Where's your dad?"

Ryan shrugged, playing dumb. "I don't know. In his study, maybe."

Already his sisters were rushing past with shopping bags, acknowledging their older brother, but barely.

Ryan's phone buzzed. He saw he had a message from his friend Kyle. But the latest one was from his father. "Thank you, buddy. I owe ya."

Ryan smiled. Then another message came in. "James McCready, Covenant Watch app removed."

"You dog," Ryan quietly said to himself. Then proceeded to remove the app on his own phone.

[ghostofthemost141]

Glass Eyes

Pairing: Ghost x F!Reader, First POV, no use of (Y/N)

Word Count: 1,862

Themes: Angst and more Angst

About: You and Ghost are happily married, except you don't remember that. After a mission accident, you are having amnesia and Ghost wants you to remember the life you have.

Notes: Inspired by a TikTok I saw and decided to put it into word format. Nickname for this one is Birdie. And I have Ghost's thoughts jumbled in here so anything that is like this are his internal thoughts. Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate it! Enjoyy!

“Lieutenant.” 

“Yes?” Ghost called to me with a sour tone. 

“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. 

No, my Birdie. You did not. 

Ghost’s piercing blue eyes stared into my soul. When he came into our meeting room, he didn’t have his usual mask that obscured his entire face. I had never even realized his eyes were blue until he came in today with just a black jacket, his skull balaclava mask that revealed the upper part of his face, gray jeans, and blue converse shoes. Ever since I woke up from my injury, Ghost always looks at me with so much sadness. I don’t understand why he does that. 

“No.” He mumbled. 

I did not understand were this was all coming from. Everytime I ask, Soap, Gaz or Price, they just give me a ‘He is going through a lot right now’ but won’t tell me what. It was all confusing especially since he is giving me kind of the cold shoulder. 

If only you would understand, Birdie. Better yet, remember. 

I could look at Ghost and could see he was thinking, while staring at me. I feel like I should have a talk with him, especially when I haven’t done a damn thing wrong and yet he is treating me like this. He should know that I am one of the best fighters here besides him. Nevertheless, I need to continue this meeting as usual. 

“How is your head?” Gaz asked me. 

“Hurts, but manageable. I have been through worse.” I answer. 

It’s true. You were nearly shot to death when you first started and you still fought with the last bit of bloody strength you had in ya. You’re a fighter. A damn good fighter. 

“I feel like I know what’s coming.” I say. 

“Yeah, we are sending you home temporarily. You’ll be able to come back once your brain is healed.” Price informed me. 

Fuck. 

What a relief. 

“I’ll miss y’all, but orders are orders.” I announce, turning to the guys. 

They were all smiling at me except for Ghost who, once again, had his eyes turned away from me. What the hell? 

“I guess I better go pack my things. Y’all don’t have too much fun in the field without me.” I joke, making the guys laugh. 

“Do you want some help, Birdie?” Soap offered. 

I wanted to accept his offer, but I also wanted to leave the door open for Ghost so I could talk with him. 

“I got it, but thank you Johnny.” I smiled at him and he did it back. 

Even though Ghost has a mysterious charm to him, Soap has always been so kind and friendly to me. He’s also quite the handsome devil. I wonder if he is single, I am just not the one to ask someone about their love life. Disbanding the meeting, I turned and walked to my room, getting ready to pack my belongings. Despite my love for being out in the field, I was lowkey happy to be sent home on temporary leave. Gaz told me that if I were to hit my head again, I could be rendered a vegetable so it’s best for me to be sent home so I can heal and be able to be back on the field. I stepped into my room, feeling a small wave of sadness. 

“I’m gonna miss ya.” I say to myself in my room. 

“You’re never coming back here.” 

“AHH! JESUS!!” I cried out, getting startled by Ghost’s sudden appearance. 

“Ghost, you scared me.” 

“Sorry.” He mumbled. 

As I was catching my breath, I had just realized what he said.

“You’re never coming back here.” 

“What did you mean by that?” 

“By what?” 

“You said I was never coming back here. What did you mean by that?” I ask, seeing he is beating around the bush. 

Ghost’s eyes pierced at me, as if I was his enemy. 

“You won’t be comin’ back here. They are just lettin’ you down easy. A head injury is basically a death sentence for being in the force.” Ghost told me. 

I felt my heart drop, hearing Ghost tell me that. 

“I..I don’t understand.” I mumbled. 

“Of course you don’t.” 

No fucking way. I shot my head up at him and walked up to him. 

“What’s your problem? Ever since I came out of my coma you’ve done nothing but give me the cold shoulder and as far as I know I haven’t done a damn thing to you! So what gives?” I exclaimed in near hysterics. 

“It’s nothin’.” Ghost sneered. 

“No it is, tell me now Lieutenant.” I sternly said. 

“No.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Birdie, don’t.” 

“It’s something alright, just tell me.” 

I swear to God I am going to scream and I don’t want to do that to you, my love. 

“Tell me.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Tell me.” 

“Tell me.”

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me now.” 

“Tell me-” 

“YOU ARE MY WIFE!!” 

…

…

…

What? What did he just say? Ghost’s eyes were wide..I couldn’t even tell what it was. Was it anger? Was it sadness? Was it denial? I couldn’t tell.  

“What? What do you mean?” I asked Ghost, trying to reach for him but he just flinched away from me. 

“You..” Ghost paused as he tried to gather his words up, “you hit your head, Birdie. During a mission, someone snuck up behind you, and hit you in the head with the butt of their gun. Despite you passing out, you managed to kill the bloody bastard. But by the time I reached you, you were unconscious. We took you to the medic and we put you in a medical coma to give your brain time to heal. You were lucky to have no bleeding up in there, but they said the possibility of you having amnesia was high. I didn’t want to believe it..” 

“Lieutenant?” 

What? Why did she call me that? She always calls me Simon. Birdie looked down to see me holding her hand. 

“I didn’t think you’d be so worried about me.” She joked with a smile. 

Does she not..

“Of course I would be, love.” 

“Love? Aw you don’t have to pretend you care so much, Ghost, it’s not like we are dating or anything.” 

Oh…

Oh. 

Bloody fucking hell. This is not happening. I was about to speak when I saw the old geyser Price doing a frantic head shaking motion at me. What? What does that mean? 

“I was just..worried is all, Birdie. I’m glad you’re okay.” I say, letting go of her hand despite feeling heartbreak for the first time ever. 

“..until you said that. ‘It’s not like we are dating or anything’. That told me right there you don’t remember.” 

I could feel a heavy weight in my chest. This..this was all too much.  Why, why would Ghost be telling me this? I don’t understand. 

“Why would you be telling me this now?” I questioned. 

“Because I want you to remember.” 

For a split second, I swear I could hear Ghost’s voice breaking, as if he was going to cry. I have never heard Ghost cry, ever. But within that split second, he got his composure back. 

“You..you make me so happy, Birdie. I just want you to remember.” 

I thought about it. I mentally dug into my brain, to try and remember anything, something, any little thing that would indicate that Ghost and I were..together. But nothing came up. No memory or nothing. Just blackness. 

“I’m..I’m sorry Ghost. I don’t remember-” 

“Just pack your shiet and leave.” Ghost growled. 

“Ghost, I’m sorry I-” 

“Just..go. Now.” 

I have never heard Ghost get this intense nor scary. I didn’t know what to say. I felt bad for him that he supposedly had a life with me, but I just can’t remember it. I wanted to say something else, but I felt like anything I said would upset him. 

“Yes, sir.” I mumbled. 

Upon me saying that. Ghost immediately turned and walked out of my room. I wish I could remember. I have always had an infatuation for Ghost and the fact that he told me we are married, is an absolute shock to me. And I wish I could remember. 

Goodbye, my Birdie. 

One month later

My head didn’t hurt as much as usual today, which made me happy. Even though Price did eventually tell me I wouldn’t be able to come back to the field due to my head injury, he was happy to visit me once they got to go back home. Same with Gaz and Soap. The only one I haven’t heard from was Ghost. I wanted to reach out to him, but considering the last time we talked was a month ago and he ordered me to ‘pack my shiet and leave now.’ I get that he was upset, but I also wish he understood my point of view. I want to remember, trust me, but no matter how much I rack my brain, I can’t remember. I only remember me getting recruited and the day of my injury. Every once in a while, I will have a small flashback to a small thing that happened during my time on the field, but they are never about Ghost and I being together. None of this makes sense, but there is nothing I can do about it. I was at my dining table, stirring my coffee mug about to sip it and eat the french toast I made. 

*KnockKnock*

Who could that be? I am not expecting anyone and Price didn’t tell me they would be coming home anytime soon. I got up, went up to the front door, and opened it, nearly fainting in response. 

“Hey, Birdie.” 

Ghost stood there at my doorway holding a bouquet of..

“Ghost, I uh..didn't expect you.” I admitted, considering how angry he was with me. 

“I know.” 

“Would you like to come in? I can make you some tea.” I offer. 

“I’m fine, I just wanted to come by and bring you these. They were your favorite. And to also apologize for how I treated you when you left. It wasn’t right. I’m sorry.” Ghost apologized. 

I don’t think I have ever heard Ghost apologize before and it was definitely genuine. 

“It’s okay, sir. I understand.” 

I understood where he was coming from. 

“Please, just Simon is alright.” He said. 

Simon? Simon..

Ghost then handed me the bouquet of sunflowers. They smelled so nice, so heavenly, so…

“Simon.. Do you really feel that way about me?” 

“I do, I love you, Birdie…” 

~

“How are we going to tell Price about us?” 

“I’ll figure something out, love. Don’t you worry your pretty little head about nothing…” 

~

“Si.” 

“I love you so much, Birdie..You complete me.” 

~

“Birdie, will you marry me?” 

“Simon..yes. Yes I will.” 

~

I..I remember now. 

“Si?’ 

Simon’s eyes beamed up and were once again full of life again, hearing me utter his nickname I had for him. 

“Birdie..” 

You’re back, my love. You’re finally back. 

END 

[wonderthor]

saturdays

pairing: husband!bakugo x black!female!reader

summary: you show your husband the perks of staying at home on saturdays.

warnings: reader and bakugo are married and in their 20s, cursing, SMUT 18+(blowjob, name calling(slut), dirty talking, slight degradation, cum swallowing, throat fucking, hair pulling, slight slapping/cheek patting, ball playing, i used “dick” cuz it’s nasty)

a/n: happy thanksgiving y’all i’m currently ovulating and feel like if i’m not bent over a table and thoroughly dicked down any minute i will wither away… so here’s more husband bakugo thirst

-

Saturday mornings were always quiet and meant for relaxation and laziness. you were in the kitchen making tea while your husband was getting dressed to go to gym with the boys. you pouted, telling him how you both were supposed to stay home and cuddle and contemplate new projects around the house. but he simply ruffled your hair and said “stop pouting before you get wrinkles, sweet cheeks. i’ll be back before you can miss me.” you doubted that though.

you heard his heavy footsteps come down the stairs and into the kitchen. you stood at the counter, still staring down at your tea, stirring it softly. he huffed and walked over to you, standing behind and leaning his head on your shoulder to speak directly in your ear.

“i know you’re still not pouting. lighten up and maybe i’ll give you a real good treat when i get home.”

before you could retort, he gave a firm slap to your ass and a light kiss to your cheek. you gasped and looked up at him sternly.

“why you-!”

“sorry baby i’m running late, be back soon!”

he walked towards the door before you could hit him back.

hmm, two can play at that game.

“wait baby, i wanna give you a kiss goodbye!” you yelled as you walked towards him before he made it to the door.

he stopped in his tracks and let go of the doorknob that he just touched.

“come on babe i’m already running late! and i just gave you a kiss.”

you walked over to him, standing right in front of him so you were basically chest to chest.

“yeah but i wanna give you a real kiss.”

he sighed. “ugh fine, come here.”

he leaned down to kiss you, obviously meaning for it to be a quick kiss. however, you had other plans. you deepened the kiss, walking towards him more until his back was against the wall. you moved your hands up to brush your fingers against his abs, moving under his shirt. in his surprise, he gasped and accidentally gave you access to shove your tongue in his mouth.

“w-wait baby i-”

“what’s the matter suki? i just wanna say goodbye, in my own way,” you said deviously as you lowered down onto your knees in front of him.

he swallowed as you rubbed him through his shorts. you looked up at him, both to tease him and to admire the view. with his sleeveless hoodie and his basketball shorts and his flustered face, he looked hot as fuck. he was sweating when you pulled him out of his shorts, rubbing your hand up and down his dick. you made sure to link him straight in the eyes while you leaned down to lay feather light kisses all around it. his breath hitched as he kept his eyes on you, in a trance and unable to look away.

you leaned down some more to lick him all the way from the bottom to the top, causing him to grunt. then you focused on his tip, licking with more pressure as your tongue slid across his slit.

“fuck,” he hissed at the feeling of your hot, wet tongue and clasped his hand in your hair.

you smirked and made sure to remain eye contact again as you began to swallow him into your mouth, going a little past the tip at first and then working your way down more and more. when he finally hit the back of your throat, he leaned back his head in bliss.

“ahh, shit baby!” he moaned and gripped your hair even tighter.

you pulled back and took him out of your mouth. he looked back down at you and watched as you leaned down to mouth at his balls, jerking him off while you licked and sucked.

now he smirked at you as he said, “you’re so fucking nasty, you know that? slobberin all over my dick like that, makin such a mess.”

you smiled as his words made you much more wetter than you already were. the flustered katsuki was gone and the fierceness and fire in his eyes replaced him. you leaned back up and swallowed him into your mouth again, going all the way to the back of your throat in one go.

“just like that baby girl, keep going just like that.”

you bobbed your head, back and forth on him, slowly at first and then gaining more speed. you made sure to circle your wrist around him as your head went back and to make sure to get the inch of his dick that didn’t fit in your mouth. the other hand stayed teasing and playing with his balls. he braced his hand on the back of your head as he started to thrust into your mouth, working against your head.

“you ready baby?”

that was the only warning you got before he braced both of his hands on your head and started to full on fuck your face. you gripped his shorts for dear life as he abused your throat, tears streaming down your face and saliva drooling down his dick and your face and neck. all that could be heard now was his rough grunts and your wet, garbled choking sounds. you were running out of air and dug your nails into his thighs. he grabbed you by the hair and pulled you off of him. you leaned back and coughed, trying to catch your breath.

“you good?”

once you caught your breath you answered, “yeah i’m good, keep going.”

“you sure?”

you moved your hands back up his thighs and slowly rubbed him a bit. “yes baby, please? i just wanna feel you cum down my throat.”

he blinked out of shock at his teary, drool covered wife. the shock only lasted for a second.

“fuck, you’re such a nasty fucking slut.”

“only for you,” you said as you smiled and jerked him a bit faster.

he smiled back, rubbing his hand over your hair.

“alright then, open,” he said as he firmly patted your cheek.

without hesitation, you opened your mouth and he thrusted himself back in. you closed your hand in a fist as he rammed your throat over and over, preventing yourself from gagging too much. his grip tightened again as he went faster and harder, getting closer to his release.

“you wanted it down your throat, right?”

you looked up at him, telling him yes with your eyes as you squeezed his thighs with anticipation.

he gave a light laugh and said, “so fucking greedy,” as his thrusts became faster before losing their pace.

he pulled your head fully onto his dick, hugging around your head as he moaned and came down your throat. you closed your eyes and focused on swallowing around him with your constricted airway. when he was done, you yanked you by your hair again and pulled you off of him. he pulled your chin up so you could look at him.

“show me.”

you look into his eyes as you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out, showing him that you truly swallowed it all.

he laughed again and patted your cheeks, harder this time as he said, “good. fucking. girl!”

you smiled proudly and stood back up to face him again. he used his hand to wipe off all of the tears and slobber off of your face. he heard his phone vibrate in his pocket and took it out. it was kirishima. he huffed.

“i can’t believe i’m this late all because you were a horny little minx.” he said as he tucked himself away and pulled his shorts back up.

“i can’t believe that you’re the one pouting now, and you started it!”

you rolled your eyes and moved back to walk away. but he was quick and pulled you back to him, leaning his head down a bit to stare at you directly in the eyes.

“yeah? well guess what. when i get back home, i’m finishing it.”

you gulped as gave another kiss to your cheek and straightened up.

“bye baby, see you later!”

the door slammed shut as the hair on the back of your neck still stood up straight.

that fucker.

[yelenasdiary]

One where Nat and reader are ex-wives and they reconnect after Nat realizes reader’s new partner is abusing reader. Nat goes to beats up the partner or smth and protects reader. Enemies to lovers vibe (or lovers to enemies to lovers HAHA) and hurt/comfort. THANK YOU I LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH YOU DESERVE EVERYTHING 🧡

Protection

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Reader 

Summary: You were always good at hiding things but never from your ex-wife, Natasha.  

18+ Dark Themes | Angst | Fluff | 1.7K | Mentions of Domestic Abuse | Language Warning | Mentions of drinking | 

"Tell me who hurt you!" Natasha looked at you after dragging you out of Tony's thanksgiving party. "Stop!" You spat, squirming out of her grip on your right arm. "You're not my wife, Natasha! You have no right to just drag me around like that!" You added. 

"I don't care about that, tell me where the bruisers came from" she cocked a brow as she crossed her arms over her chest. You took a step back unsure of how Natasha even knew. Your new partner, as much as you love them, they had issues. Issues that were taken out on you. "I..I d-don't know what your talking about" you said with shaking your head slightly. 

"Don't lie to me, Y/n. I can see them clear as day, even underneath the make up. Who the fuck hurt you?" Natasha's tone was stubborn, a tone you were used to hearing within the last 6 months of your marriage. You shook your head at her once again, "Nobody has hurt me Natasha! Just leave me alone" you turned your back on her only for her to grip your arm once more. "Was it her?! Did she do this?" she asked. 

"Let me go!" You argued, once again squirming out of her grip. "Back off Natasha! You don't even know her, she would never lay a hand on me!" You added before returning to the party. Your new partner waiting for you by the bar where she left you. 

"Where did you go?" She asked, drunken once again. "Just to the bathroom sweetheart" you smiled softly, "shall we get out of here?" You added hoping to leave. "You're a fucking liar, I saw you leave with her! Did you have fun with her huh?!" Her voice turned cold and you prepared yourself for what was to come. "Honey, please, let's just go home" you begged, pulling her gently by the arm not wanting to cause a scene. To your luck she agreed and finished her drink before linking arms with you and leaving. 

——

You stumbled into the compound, the only place you knew where you'd be safe. "Y/n?!" Natasha rushed to you as you fell into her arms sobbing as she wrapped you safely in her arms, "I'm here baby, I'm here" she spoke, letting the pet name come naturally. "What happened?" She asked while you soaked her t-shirt with tears before looking up at her with your swollen eye and busted lip, "D-did" Natasha paused and brushed the locks of hair from your face then wiped your tears, "did she do this?" She asked. You nodded slowly then bursted into tears again, Natasha pulling you close to her again as you cried. 

After a few hours, you fell asleep on Natasha's bed in one of her t-shirts. She let you shower and make yourself at home while she poked you for more information. Natasha sat beside you as you slept and gently stroked your hair, something she always used to do when she was worried about you. 

It was no lie the divorce wasn't what you both wanted but it was obvious that the two of you couldn't handle being around each other anymore. Always arguing over things that didn't matter, Nat using missions to get away from the tougher arguments, it was too much. But seeing you like this, treated like this, lit a match inside Natasha. You were hers, even if you both weren't together, she was never able to get over you, not truly. She kissed the top of your head and slid out of bed, without waking you and quietly out of the door. 

"I knew she'd run back to you" your drunken partner slurred her words as Natasha stood at the front door, "What did she tell you huh? That I hit her? She's a fucking liar! I see why you divorced her" she laughed before downing her can of beer. 

"Don't you ever speak about her like that!" Natasha spat, slapping the can out of the woman's hand, "you're nothing but a low life prick!" She added before giving her a hard kick to the ribs. The woman fell to the floor with force and a grunt. "If you ever touch her again. I'll kill you myself!" Natasha kicked the woman once more before pulling her up by her hair and pushing her up again the wall, "you're going to pack your shit and leave this fucking country! I don't ever want to see your mug face ever again!"

"Fuck you!" The woman spat, blood dripping from her lip, "she was never really my type anyway" she added. Natasha threw her to the ground once more, "I won't give you another chance! Pack your shit and leave!" She said giving the woman one last harsh beating before leaving her to gather herself. 

——

Waking up in Natasha's bed felt like Déjà vu. Although Nat was nowhere to be seen, you knew what to expect when you got home. Tears filled your eyes once more as you slowly got out of bed and changed back into your clothes from last night, leaving Natasha a note on the dresser apologizing for interrupting her night. 

"She can't go back" you heard Natasha's voice coming from the kitchen. "What are you going to do Nat? You can't get too close to this…" Carol's voice followed.

"I'm going to protect her…I should never have let this happen"

"Nat, it's not your fault…you both just had a rough patch and things didn't work out but what their partner did doesn't make it your fault" 

"I tried so long to hate her…hate her for going through with the divorce and then she met them…now this? I swore to always be there for her, protect her, love her and I let her down" 

"Natasha" you spoke softly as you stood in the doorway of the kitchen. Both women turned to look at you. "Y/n, you're awake" Natasha smiled softly hoping you didn't overhear the conversation she had with Carol. "How are you feeling?" She added when you didn't say anything. "I'm fine, thanks. Uhm, I have to go…I'm sorry about last night, it won't happen again" you replied as you tried to avoid eye contact. 

"Stay" Nat stood from her seat, "please".

Carol quietly stood from her seat and left the room, giving you a soft smile and hug on her way out. 

"Nat, I can't…I'm with somebody else. I shouldn't have come here last night…I'm sorry" 

"Don't. Don't go back to her. She hurts you; you can't tell me that you came here just to get away from her. You were scared…stay here, please. You're better here, you're safe" Natasha took a few steps closer to you. She was right, you were scared, and you knew if you went back after being away the whole night wasn't going to be a pretty sight. "Nat" you slightly stepped back away from her, "I can't stay…she's probably worried. I didn't tell her where I was or where I was going, I need to see her" you explained before swallowing the lump in your throat. 

"I don't think she'll care too much" Nat sighed. You tilted your head slightly at her, "Natasha, what did you do?" You asked knowing the look in her eyes. A look you saw once before, a very long time ago. She stood looking into your eyes hoping they could tell you the answer you were looking for, but you refused to believe her. "Are you fucking serious?! Natasha! What did you do?!" You snapped in a worry. 

"She hurt you! What did you think I did?" 

"Don't you dare tell me you hurt her!" Tears filled your eyes with confused feelings. "You had no right! I came here because I didn't know where else to go! I didn't come here for you to go after her!" 

"Do you know how hard it was for me?! To see you like that?! You told me she'd never lay a hand on you, you lied! How long has she been beating you around for?!" Natasha's tone was stern as she took the few steps closer just wanting to hold you in her arms once more. You shook your head at her and continued to step back with tears streaming down your cheek. 

"You don't get to care about me now! You didn't care much about me when we were married, why does this change things?!" You argued. 

"I never stopped loving you. Was I stupid to let you leave? Yes! But seeing you like this, with those bruisers and beaten up like this is killing me! She doesn't deserve you; she never did! So, I took matters into my own hands" 

"W-what did you do to her?!" You sobbed, your mind slowly giving up on the argument and soon was filled with worry and concern for your girlfriend. "I told her to pack her shit and leave the country and that if I ever see her face again, I'd kill her myself" Natasha replied without breaking eye contact. "Y-you didn't!" You shook your head at her once more, "tell me you didn't! you can't do that!" 

Natasha stood in silence as you broke down, "y… you can't hurt her" you sobbed, "she's all I have" you added as you fell to your knees. Natasha walked over to you and got on her own knees and pulled you into her arms. "That's not true baby, I'm here. I'm never going to let you go again" she spoke softly as you once again soaked her t-shirt with tears. "I'll never let her hurt you again, for as long as I live, you will always be safe. I promised you that and I'm keeping my promise" she added through your sobs. 

She held you tightly as you came to terms with the reality of your abusive relationship. A sense of safety always washed over you whenever you were in Nat's arms, you knew her heart was in the right place, and you couldn't hate her for doing something you'd also do if the tables were turned. It took some time but eventually you and Natasha were able to work things out and try again. Natasha was gently and soft with you, always reminding you that you were safe, and that she'd never hurt you. With your new insecurities and worries, Natasha never lost her cool with you and waited for you to open up to her once again.

Taglist: @red1culous | @sayah13 | @charl-lally | @when-wolves-howl | @bentleywolf29 | @fxckmiup | @natasha-belova | @blackwidow-3 | @lissaaaa145 | @high--power | @parkerdaramitzzzz | @mmmmokdok | @wackymcstupid | @kiwiana145 | @shin-conan-kun | @nattyolw | @ripofflizzie | @goofy-goonie | @makegoodchoices | @apollo2907 | @wandaroman0ff | @dumb-fawkin-bitch | @lovelyy-moonlight | @santana1437 | @ahintofchaos | @fluffyblanketgecko | @puta1 | @inluvwithfictionalwomen | @tintedrose12 | @jaymieflorissssssss | @tita001 | @youralphawolf72 | @donnietarantino | @randomnessbecausewhynot | @natashamaximoff69 | 

[hoardlikegoldenirises]

This is Peter's "move your arm before I kill you" face 😄 aka his "I only agreed to stand here to make my aunt happy and would rather be anywhere else" face.

EDIT: decided to change the eyeshine color lol

closeups and a bonus doodle below:

say cheeeeese!!! (left to right: flash, janine, aracely)

I realized while drawing this that I accidentally put the boys in left-to-right order from least- to most-fucked up face 😂 Ben and his perfect nose 🙄🤣 IDK what he's saying but probably something engineered specifically to make Peter mad.

He's smiling. 🙂💢 See? Busted nose. Turns out I also put them in order of "least to most traumatized," now that I think about it... Peter is a little less uptight by 2016 but... only a little. He might even not be wearing the costume under his clothes.

I know you're probably thinking "how the fuck is Ben less traumatized than Peter?" but in this case it's true. Ben is the most well-adjusted of them all. Comparatively.

Kaine is definitely wearing his costume under his clothes. Head to toe coverage, no skin except face and hands basically ever. When I sat down to sketch this pic this morning I realized that he probably doesn't like having his picture taken, because he has very bad self-esteem (understatement) and lots of scars, but probably also for Warren reasons, as essentially an ex-lab specimen. So he's hiding.

His hair would be in the process of growing back out from a buzzcut, if it's November 2016... so a bit longer than his shoulders, most likely.

If it wasn't like, May's idea to take the pic and Janine w/ the camera Kaine would not be tolerating this. He'd either leave or break the camera LOL but... if May wants a pic... he can at least pretend to be in it.

Miss Maybelle... The only one in the pic who doesn't have anything weird going on (ah, her strange nephews and their strange eyes). She has an O2 tank though. Her lungs are not very strong after 2012 because ummmm... Kaine stabbed her in the chest. (He apologized, it's fine 😓😅)

Ben's tan lines 😂 peter has 'em too but Peter is all covered up obv. Peter's neck tan line is actually way higher up though, because his costume has a higher neckline so he has to wear higher collars/scarves/whatever even if he rolls the neck down. But (not pictured) Peter's arms are more tan than Ben's because Ben's Scarlet sleeves are longer than Peter's Spidey sleeves. Obv Ben isn't wearing (the top of) his costume in this pic though. and they can both roll the sleeves up anyway.

That's the watch Peter got May for her birthday in 2007 btw. Actually the color is wrong because I didn't bother to check my own #lore but also because I almost forgot to color it at all (lol whoops) so I was just like. It's purple, I remember that much. But the strap is supposed to be "pale violet linen."

I also almost forgot to draw Peter's wedding band entirely 😂 Luckily I remembered! lol

Kaine is wearing a kilt, by the way (over jeans or leggings or something probably... well, maybe not leggings if his costume is underneath...) My goal is for him to find a different way of expressing his masculinity. related to why i am sticking to pink for his theme color (for costume etc.) and letting him grow his hair back out. I think he probably has some genders going on but not in the way that Flash has. He's not a girl. More like he wants to be nothing at all... null gender... etc... but also he doesn't have the language for that and would likely push back against it because of the way he was treated by Warren and the issues he has with like. personhood and manhood... but experimenting with (expensive) clothing is a way for him to explore his own autonomy in spite of that treatment and a way to learn to hate himself a little bit less, maybe, even though he's still very insecure.

he also has a "nazi punks fuck off" shirt, but... he wouldn't wear that to thanksgiving with aunt may... probably. I'm sure his leather jacket is around here somewhere...

i picked thanksgiving arbitrarily btw 😂 it just made the most sense as a reason for may to force i mean ask them all to come over and get pictures and stuff. kaine leaves nyc in 2012 following ben and only comes back for good in 2016, but when he and aracely first come up in the summer there's a bunch of stuff happening so it makes sense to do fall, once it's settled down...

May: Oh, by the way Peter, I invited your... brothers... to Thanksgiving. Peter: You did WHAT?!

[rmd-writes]

smutsgiving 2023 (firstprince edition)

What is smutsgiving you might ask? You can click that link to see where this started last year, but essentially it’s a drabble challenge: write 100 words of smut and share it on American Thanksgiving, for a treat.

The wet tiles are hard underneath Alex’s knees but he doesn’t fucking care. His eyes flutter closed; he revels in Henry’s fingers tugging at his curls, at the weight of his cock on his tongue and the sound Henry makes – cracked, pulled from the depths of his lungs – when Alex curls his tongue.

He inhales and opens his eyes, devouring the sight of the water sluicing over Henry’s body, following the dips and curves Alex knows intimately. Henry’s thighs tremble, his hips stutter – he’s close.

Alex pulls back, relaxing his jaw and flattening his tongue, squeezing Henry’s hip: let go.