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flanaganfilm · 2 years

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The Midnight Club - Season Two

I'm very disappointed that Netflix has decided not to pursue a second season of THE MIDNIGHT CLUB.

My biggest disappointment is that we left so many story threads open, holding them back for the hypothetical second season, which is always a gamble.

So I'm writing this blog as our official second season, so you can know what might have been, learn the fates of your favorite characters, and know the answers to those dangling story threads from the first season.

So for those of you who want to know what we were planning to do, here's a look at what would have been season 2!

AMESH Season 2 would open with Amesh, his glioblastoma advancing quickly. He would tell the first story of the season, but would be struggling to make it through. We'd focus on his love story with Natsuki for those first few episodes as it becomes clear that Amesh's death is imminent.

Meanwhile, Ilonka is trying to reconcile how she was fooled by Julia Jayne, all while falling further in love with Kevin, and she realizes he may be fading faster than he lets on.

Ilonka begins a serialized story in an effort to encourage him to "stay alive a little longer," like he did in season one. And the story she tells is... REMEMBER ME.

This was the thing I was most excited about for this season.

REMEMBER ME is one of my all-time favorite Pike books - it tells the story of a teenage girl who is pushed off a balcony, and awakens as a ghost. She has to navigate being a spirit while trying to solve her own murder. We would have stretched this story out over 5 episodes. We were going to use it as a vehicle for Ilonka to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, and to begin to trying to wrap her head around being a ghost... but this is the coolest part... the lead character of Ilonka's story wouldn't be played by Ilonka. She'd be played by...

Anya.

Because this is how we live on, isn't it? In the minds of those we leave behind. And Ilonka would use REMEMBER ME as a way to imagine her dear friend Anya, waking up as a ghost, navigating the afterlife. And this sets up one of the best mechanisms of the show - even if a character dies, as long as they're remembered by members of the club, they live on in their stories.

As the story starts to pick up steam, though, the group will have to deal with the death of Amesh, which he greets with grace and bravery.

In his final moments, he sees someone in his room - the Janitor from the first season, as played by Robert Longstreet, who says comforting things to Amesh even though he can't respond.

In his final, final moments, the SHADOW descends upon Amesh, and he is engulfed into it, which reinforces the idea that the Shadow is DEATH...

With Amesh's death comes something that upends the entire thing: a NEW PATIENT. We didn't work out too much about who this would be, but it would be a new roommate for Ilonka. Someone taking Anya's old bed. Ilonka would find herself being initially cold to her - just as Anya was when Ilonka arrived. Even feeling like this new girl shouldn't necessarily be ushered into the Club. But of course they would develop a beautiful friendship over the course of the season. The new girl joins the club, where something else exciting is happening - Cheri is telling a story. We hadn't decided which one, but I think it might have been MONSTER.

Natsuki would be the next to die, which would be heartbreaking. And again, she would talk to the janitor just before it happened... and again, the Shadow would come in the final moments.

For Spence, though, things would take a different turn.

The advancements in HIV treatment in the late 90's would come into play, and we'd see his prognosis change. The HIV cocktail came out in Dec 1995, and we really wanted to explore that.

Spence would ride the swell of antiviral advancements, and by the end of the season, he'd no longer be classified as terminal. In the finale of season 2, Spence would leave Brightcliffe just like Sandra did in Season 1, heading off to manage his disease and live the rest of his life.

But onto the BIG MYSTERIES of the season one... here are some answers: What is up with Dr. Stanton's tattoo and bald head? Well, a few things. First, Dr. Stanton is actually the daughter of the original Paragon cult leader, Aceso. Her nickname was Athena, she wrote the Paragon journal that Ilonka found in S1. She turned on her mother and helped the kids escape, but because she was part of the cult in her teenage years, she had the tattoo.

It was her initials that Ilonka found carved into the tree in season 1 (her maiden name was Georgina Ballard, hence the G.B. that Ilonka finds carved in the tree).

She hated what her mother became, and the atrocities of the cult. She reclaimed the property after her mom was gone, and wanted to change it into a place that celebrated life. She was trying to undo her mother's legacy and leave something behind that was beautiful. She is wearing a wig at the end of S1 not because of a sinister reason, but because she is undergoing chemo. Dr. Stanton has cancer. Having helped so many people deal with disease, she now has to deal with it herself.

Her treatment would be successful, and she'd go into remission, but having to face that - while caring for the terminal kids at Brightcliffe - was going to be a very introspective arc for Stanton.

What about the Living Shadow? It's Death, right? Well... no.

At the end of the season, Kevin will die... followed shortly by Ilonka. And as she is dying, two things will happen. First, she'll find herself talking to the Janitor, played by Robert Longstreet... and she'll make a discovery.

HE is Death. And nothing to be afraid of. It turns out no one else ever saw this character. Stanton has a cleaning service, and the Nurse practitioners make up the rooms - the only people who ever saw this mysterious Janitor were the patients. He is Death, and offers them kind words before they die. Then what was the Shadow?

This is an idea we take directly from the book REMEMBER ME, and we'll see it play out in the final moments of Ilona's final tale. In Pike's book, Shari is pursued by a dark entity called The Shadow. When it finally catches her, though, it turns out it is not a bad thing at all.

The Shadow is THEMSELVES. It's the Unknown. As it engulfs someone, in the last moment of their life, it takes them through a place of understanding and catharsis, preparing them for the next step.

THIS is what happened to Anya in S1 when the Shadow finally reached her - that's why she fantasized a life beyond Brightcliffe, which ultimately let her find acceptance of her death. It looks different for everybody, depending on their mind-set - because it is simply an extension of themselves.

The Shadow is just the final catharsis, a return to our original form - it is a moment of true understanding, and once we experience it, we move on to the next place.

We see the Shadow in full effect when it finally comes for Kevin. KEVIN DIES with Ilonka at his side, and it leads to the biggest reveal of the season:

Who were the Mirror Man and the Cataract Woman?

They were Stanley Oscar Freelan and his wife, who built Brightcliffe (fun trivia, he is named after the real-life Freelan Oscar Stanley, who built my favorite hotel in America - the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley is also the inspiration for THE SHINING!).

But more than that... there's a reason that Ilonka only sees Stanley in the mirror, and sees the Cataract Woman whenever she looked at Kevin. This is something else we took from Pike's original book... these aren't ghosts, but glimpses of PAST LIVES.

Ilonka WAS Stanley Oscar Freelan, and Kevin WAS his wife. They've lived many lives this way, and are true SOUL MATES - they always find each other, and they always fall in love. In this life, they knew it would be a short one, so they agreed to find each other in the house they built. They've been "remembering" who they are, and glimpsing their former selves in reflections, and sometimes when they look at each other. This is also why Ilonka's very first words to Kevin in S1 were "Do I know you?" and why Kevin thought she was familiar as well. They are two souls who always find each other, again and again.

The story is this: Stanley was dying, and built this cliffside home hoping that the seaside air would help him. It did, and he far outlived his prognosis (this is also true of the real-life Freelan Stanley). However, his wife began to succumb to dementia.

She would wander the halls, looking for him ("Darling!") and would even forget to feed herself ("I'm starving...") and she eventually refused to leave the basement. Heartbroken for her, Stanley painted the walls to resemble the woodland view, and the ceiling to resemble the night sky, so that it would be a little more beautiful for her.

He also painted a labyrinth on the floor, which was a technique used to try to curb the effects of dementia. She'd walk the pattern of the maze and it was believed it could help her cognition. Eventually, she developed frightening cataracts, but Stanley loved her through it all.

They were soul mates.

So while they seemed scary in season 1, that was just how Ilonka and Kevin's mind were trying to remember their pasts. We even had their faces distorting in ways consistent with how memories degrade over time. When the Shadow comes for Ilonka, and gives her this understanding - this "remembering" - she realizes she has nothing to fear. She and Kevin will shed these personas and be reborn, and have the joy of finding each other another way. The Shadow comes for her, Death takes her gently, and Ilonka goes off with Kevin back into the cosmos, ready for their next incarnation. The series would end with Cheri telling this story to a whole new table of patients, including our new series leads. Most of our original cast now would exist as stories, a story told to the next "class" of storytellers at the table, all of whom we will have met by the end of the season. A story called "The Midnight Club."

Well, that's it... that was what we had in mind. It's a shame we won't get to make it, but it would be a bigger shame if you guys simply had to live with the unanswered questions and the cliffhanger ending. I loved making this show, and I am so proud of the cast and crew. Particularly our cast, who attacked this story with incredible spirit and bravery each and every day.

But for now, we'll put the fire out, and leave the library dark and quiet. To those before, and to those after. To us now, and to those beyond.

Seen or unseen, here but not here.

I'll always be grateful that I got to be part of this Club.

#the midnight club #season 2 #cancelled #netflix #what might have been #flanaverse #mike flanagan #christopher pike #intrepid pictures #remember me #unanswered questions #loose ends #heather langenkamp #farewell brightcliffe

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kookslastbutton · 3 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

Masterlist | Requests: closed | Taglist | Fic Recs

no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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barcaatthemoon · 1 month

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turned on || alexia putellas x reader ||

a night out forces you and alexia to finally do something about your obvious attraction to one another.

alexia was awkward. you had known that long before you'd ever met the woman. the two of you were respective superstars for your countries, both the faces of your women's leagues. the news of the famed (y/n) (y/l/n) going from bayern to barcelona had shaken up the european football world. however, the events that would follow would do so once again, perhaps to a bigger magnitude.

you had been at bayern since their youth academy. there had never been another club for you, not even for a loan. however, when your contract with bayern ended, you had decided to look elsewhere. you loved the team, and the things that everybody was doing together, but you wanted a change.

barcelona had come knocking on your door the loudest. they were willing to shell out a lot of money, nearly three times as much as your old club. it wasn't just about the money, but you had to admit that it had a nice ring to it. there were things that you could do with this money that you felt would benefit your community much more than you just scoring a few goals during your games.

your first few months in spain had been difficult. you weren't exactly conversational in spanish, nor were you all that great with english. your teammates were patient with you, especially frido, ingrid, and caro. they were like your lifelines, none of them ever leaving you completely alone at training. unfortunately for you, they were all around enough to notice the way that you and alexia stared at each other.

"hmm, that's a very interesting shirt choice. it looks oddly familiar," frido teased as she grabbed the bottom hem of your shirt. you didn't give her little comment the decency of a response. yes, you had picked this outfit out because the last couple of times that you had worn it, alexia hadn't been able to take her eyes off of you.

"i think that our captain will like it. although, i'm not sure she'll appreciate the attention you'll get from it," ingrid said. you blushed a little as you turned away from them to finish getting ready. you had done your makeup a little bit edgier than normal. alexia seemed to like the darker look on you, at least that was what mapi had told you.

you checked over your outfit one more time before you followed your friends out of ingrid's room. mapi was flexing in the mirror, something that had both you and ingrid laughing at her. mapi ignored the two of you and continued, much to aitana's annoyace.

"let's go." frido wrangled everybody into her car, letting you have the passenger's seat. you were still getting used to things like the famous spanish affection and lack of personal space. befriending mapi through ingrid was a big help, but you were still even more awkward than caro in most situations.

at the club, you were immediately whisked away to the bar with pina, cata, and patri. they fed you shot after shot, which you enjoyed until alexia, irene, marta, and sandra pulled your group back from the bar. irene had been the one to grab you, but you didn't let that last for long. with some difficulty, you put yourself in alexia's grasp, allowing for pina to scurry off towards the dance floor.

"hi, oh wait, hola!" your accent was normally bad, but tonight, it was atrocious. alexia cracked a small smile at your accent. you returned it tenfold, absolutely beaming at her. "you are so beautiful. do you like my outfit? i wore it just for you."

"o-oh?" alexia questioned. her voice had cracked, something that you didn't miss, but chose to ignore. "you look very nice, but you shouldn't dress for other people. dress for you, i'd like any outfit you wore."

"that's not the point. i want you to take me home. i need to impress if you're gonna do that." you were slurring your words pretty badly, and alexia wondered how long you had been feeling like that. she wasn't going to get her answer though, not when you were whisked off towards the dance floor.

alexia didn't see you for nearly the entire night after that. you had been moving around enough to sober up quite a bit. alexia noticed that you didn't sway on your feet when you came over to where she was sitting. however, there was still just enough liquid courage for you to let alexia know that you wanted to dance with her.

"i think we should dance. you've been sitting here all night. even irene got up at least once." if it had been anybody else, alexia never would have even really considered moving. however, it was you, and unbeknownst to you, alexia had developed quite the soft spot for you.

at first, she told herself that she wanted to take care of you because you were younger than her and in a new country. however, much to alexia's annoyance, mapi pointed out several times that alexia's gazes towards you were never friendly. alexia thought that she was good at masking her feelings, but mapi was one of the few people in the world who could see right through her. it took a while, but alexia had finally admitted to herself, and an eerily excited mapi, her feelings for you.

"i'm not much of a dancer," alexia warned you. she had never been a good dancer, especially not sober. you weren't a professional or anything, but you were fairly decent in the scheme of things.

"it's fine, i'll take the lead." your words didn't exactly make alexia feel much better, but once the two of you were on the dance floor, she didn't do much thinking. you were just sober enough to know that this wasn't something that alexia normally would have agreed to so easily. you'd been around the team long enough to know that alexia rarely ever left the booth or table whenever the team went out.

"a-are you sure that this is okay?" alexia asked as you placed her hands on your waist. normally whenever you'd dance with the other girls, their hands were glued to your hips. it was a far less intimate hold, but your body craved a bit of intimacy, specifically from alexia.

"shh, don't think about it. just feel the music and move with me," you told her. it was fine for the first couple of songs, but then things slowed down dramatically. alexia's hands stayed right where you had placed them, but you weren't prepared to feel the press of her body against yours.

for someone who wasn't spanish, you were teased a lot for being touchy. it was always in good jest, and because of that, you often forgot how handsy your teammates could get. alexia was no exception, despite being the most reserved with her affections. you realized in that moment that alexia wasn't unaffectionate at all, she was just picky. tonight, it seemed that she had picked you.

"can i have one more dance?" alexia asked as she rested her chin against your shoulder. her face was partially buried in the side of your neck. alexia's breath tickled against your skin, something she couldn't have known would have you turning red in the face like it was. "please, i'm having fun with you. i don't want it to end just yet."

"i think i can handle one more." it was a total lie, but you didn't know it yet. the next song was more upbeat than the last, but alexia didn't move any further away from her. you could feel her hips press against your ass with each movement that she made. alexia was dancing with you like before, only closer now. it was reminscent of something that you hadn't experienced in quite some time.

alexia kept her hands around you even after the song had ended. the two of you made your way towards the booth, where several of your teammates were not sitting as well. alexia sat down first, and without hesitation, pulled you into her lap. they all quieted down at the sight of you, but neither you nor alexia missed the looks on their faces.

"problem?" alexia asked. her arm was snaked protectively around your waist, and as patri moved in closer, alexia's arm tightened. she had already been holding you tightly, but the addition of force managed to pull a squeak from you that unfortunately did not go unheard by anybody.

"the free show was nice, even if this isn't that kind of club," patri teased as she tapped on the tip of your nose. you swatted her hand away as you cursed at her in german. frido and ingrid's faces went red at your words, but they didn't let patri in on what you had said.

"what is that supposed to mean?" alexia asked.

"are you so oblivious that you don't see how turned on (y/n) is with her on your lap, capi? i mean, look at her. it's a shock that she's not squirming," cata pointed out. you grumbled as you tried to hide your hands. alexia looked at you questioningly, and when you refused to meet her gaze, she realized that there was a lot of truth to their words.

"you, uh… you… i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you… i mean…" alexia stumbled through her words unlike anything you had ever seen before. the girls at the table laughed at her, which made a bit of anger flare up inside of you.

"hey, it's okay. you didn't know," you said sweetly. alexia bit her lip as you turned in her lap and cupped her cheeks. "i asked you to dance with me. besides this isn't anything that won't pass eventually."

"aren't you embarrassed?" alexia asked. she looked really guilty, and you wanted to kiss the pout off of her lip.

"it's fine, ale. if you really feel bad, you can buy me breakfast or something tomorrow morning," you told her. alexia looked confused for a moment before the cheering and hollering of your teammates clued her in. with that, she quickly stood up and walked you out of the club and away from them. you both knew alexia wouldn't just sleep with you, but you were surprised when she let you come over and stay the night with her anyway.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

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thetriumphantpanda · 9 months

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where you want your gift, girl? | Joel Miller

Summary | It’s your birthday and Joel, knowing it’s not your favourite celebration, is keen to show you that it‘s not always going to be a bad day, not if he can help it.

Warnings | birthdays, allusions to strained parental relationships, food & alcohol consumption, smoking of (1) cigarette, no/pre-outbreak AU, gift giving, explicit smut, rough sex, choking/breath play, brief spit play, oral sex (F Receiving), safe unprotected sex, dirty talk, creampie, cumplay, literally just filth tbh, no use of y/n.

Word Count | 4.2K

Authors Note | Honestly? It’s my birthday today and all I want is for Joel Miller to fucking rail me to celebrate - we can’t have everything we want I suppose, so we’ll have to deal with writing our fantasies instead! Happy Birthday to me - Enjoy!

Masterlist | Ko-Fi

You’d never really enjoyed birthdays. Other people’s, sure. The opportunity to treat your friends and make other people happy was something you’d always loved, but when it was you as the centre of attention, you almost hated it. The way people would train their eyes on you as you opened their gifts, the anxiety that you felt not knowing what it would be and whether you’d have to pretend it was the best thing in the world when you could think of a million things you needed above what they’d given you. It always made you feel ungrateful. Birthdays aren’t as exciting as you get older either, just another reminder of how far behind the rest of your friends you are, how little you seemed to have accomplished next to them in the same amount of years.

It was no different this year, not really. Your mother had phoned you before you’d gone to work, asked if you received the card she’d sent in the post that had the customary $100 stuffed into it, before chiding you for not doing as you said you would last time you spoke and find a new job, something more challenging, related to that degree you’d spent all her money on. You sigh and hang up the phone before she can say anything else, a mumbled sorry that you were running late but thank you for the card.

The only saving grace for your birthday this year was the fact it was a Friday, so you didn’t have to worry about drinking too much beer and having to go to work the next morning with a hangover. To their credit, your work colleagues had been quite nice to you - they’d pooled together to get you a gift card for you to spend on whatever you’d like, and Sandra from accounts had made you a birthday cake – red velvet because it was your favourite. Once everyone had eaten a slice, she put a Tupperware on your desk with two more generous slices in it, winking at you before walking away.

“For your handsome boyfriend.” She’d said, giggling as she walked away.

There was another saving grace for your birthday, you supposed. Joel Miller. Who had burst into your life in a whirlwind eight months ago when his beautiful daughter had spilled her hot chocolate all over your crisp new shirt in her hurry to get to the table so she could drink it. He’d been the most apologetic you ever thought you’d seen a man, helping you to wipe the worst of it off with napkins whilst Sarah profusely apologised next to you. You’d put a comforting hand on her shoulder, told her it was okay, and that you understood entirely, you’d have been as excited as her to drink hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows. Joel had insisted on paying for your dry cleaning, something you’re pretty sure only ever happened in films, and when you’d phoned him to tell him it really had been a minimal amount, he’d asked to take you to dinner instead, and the rest really was history.

He’s phoning you now, his name popping up on the front screen of your phone, you smile as you answer it.

“Hello, handsome.” You greet.

“Good afternoon,” His southern drawl hits your ears, “Happy birthday, my darlin’ girl.”

God, he makes you so happy, “Thank you, cowboy.”

“You want me to pick you up and take you for dinner?” He asks, “Tommy is gonna look after Sarah tonight, so I’m all yours, whatever you wanna do.”

You think for a second, sure, dinner out is a nice idea, but it’s been a long week, and you think what you want most is to be at home with him, “You think you could grill me a steak and let me drink beer on your couch instead?” You ask, slightly embarrassed that this is all you want for your birthday.

“If that’s what you want, darlin’, then I’ll grill you the best steak of your life,” He chuckles, and then you can hear him cover the phone and speak to Sarah, who must be just back from school, “Sarah wants to speak to you real quick.”

He passes the phone and it’s Sarah’s sweet voice that greets you next, “Happy birthday!”

“Thank you, honey,” You smile, “You looking forward to some time with your Uncle Tommy?”

“He’s gonna take me to the movies,” You can hear the grin on her face, “I already heard dad telling him not to feed me too much candy, but he never listens,” You chuckle, “I got you a present,” She speaks again, “I gave it to dad so you can open it later.”

“Ahhh you sweet girl,” You coo, “I’m sure I’ll love it,” You reassure, “And I’ll be there tomorrow so I can thank you in person.”

“Alright,” She replies, “Dad wants the phone back, but have a nice birthday with him!”

You say goodbye to her, and then Joel tells you he’ll be waiting for you when you finish to bring you home. It’s only two hours until the end of the day, but you struggle to focus on the emails you’ve got to answer – you get through as few as is acceptable before the end of the day, logging out at exactly 5:30pm, box of cake clutched in your hand, handbag slung over your shoulder as you head out.

Joel is leaning against the side of his truck, arms crossed over his chest so his biceps are bulging in the flannel he’s wearing, he’s also got one of his ankles crossed over the over. He looks so casual but as devastatingly handsome as he always is. He slips an arm around your waist when you’re close enough, pushing his palm into your lower back to press your body to his, dipping down to press his lips to yours. He’s gentle with it, opening his mouth against yours so he can slip his tongue into your mouth, letting his tongue meld with your own, kissing you slowly, like he’s got all the time in the world.

“Get a room, you two!” It’s Sandra from accounts.

Joel pulls away just enough to laugh against your lips, pressing his to yours once more before pulling away properly, opening the car door for you to get in, pressing a light swat of his hand to your ass as you hoist yourself up into the truck.

Once he’s slipped into the driver's side and settled one of his hands on your upper thigh, he starts the drive from the city out to his house. It’s a quiet drive, Joel’s humming along to whatever is playing on the radio, you’re occupied with looking out the window. This is what you love about Joel, that he’ll sit in silence, won’t feel the need to make you talk, it makes you feel comfortable, knowing that he’s there when you need him, but he’s not going to force you to speak when you don’t want to.

He’s pulled into the drive in no time, picking up the grocery bags from the backseat. You try and peak inside to see what he’s bought; you’re hoping he’s got the ingredients to make those mashed potatoes you like, and mushrooms that he’ll cook on the grill too.

When he opens the door, you’re almost overwhelmed by the sight that greets you. There are gold and black balloons littering the floor, with one bigger helium balloon, weighted down so it doesn’t float along the ceiling, set in the corner with big ‘happy birthday’ lettering written on it. There’s a birthday banner pinned to the wall, and a selection of wrapped gifts on the coffee table. You have a sneaking suspicion that most of this is Sarah’s doing.

You giggle a little as Joel presses himself against your back, kissing at your neck, “How much of this was Sarah?” You ask, following him through to the kitchen.

“She blew up all those balloons before she went to bed last night, and she did all the wrapping, but the banner and the big balloon, that was all me, baby.”

You press your lips to his cheek, smiling as he starts unloading the grocery bags. Two ribeye steaks, and just like you wanted, mushrooms to grill, and potatoes to mash. He leaves you in charge of watching the potatoes whilst he grills the rest of the food outside. Whilst it’s resting, he mashes the potatoes with enough butter to clog your arteries, but when you sit at the table, and those potatoes are in your mouth, you can’t find it in you to care - it’s your birthday after all.

“Everythin’ alright, baby?” He asks, cutting into his steak.

“It’s perfect,” You grin, spearing a grilled mushroom onto your fork, “Better than sitting in a stuffy restaurant anyway.”

You finish your food in relative silence. Joel insists on doing the dishes even if he did most of the cooking, before he’s leading you back to the living room.

Joel sits you down on the couch, treading as carefully as he can through the trail of balloons to get you a fresh beer. He kneels down on the floor between you and the coffee table, taking a glug of his beer, before reaching across the table for the first gift, setting it in your lap.

“That one is from Sarah,” He explains, “She made me promise you would open it first.”

“Rules are rules,” You shrug with a chuckle, carefully tearing open the wrapping paper.

When you pull the paper from the material it was wrapped in you feel overwhelmed. It’s the exact same blouse that Sarah had tipped her hot chocolate over, just in black instead of white. The shirt had been a write off from the start, the chocolate leaving a stain that even the dry cleaner couldn’t get out.

“She saved her pocket money for months to buy this,” He murmurs, pinching the silky fabric between his fingers, “Said if it was what brought us together, she wanted you to be able to wear it.”

You can feel tears prickling at your eyes as you fold the material up carefully, “She’s such a special girl, Joel.” You whisper, watching as Joel leans back over the table to pick up another gift.

“This one’s from Tommy.” He murmurs, handing you the largest box on the table.

You rip the paper off and open the box, revealing an actual cowboy hat. You laugh, because Tommy has always said in order to properly fit in, you’d need a cowboy hat. Joel reaches into the box, pulling the brown Stetson out of its box, placing it on your head.

“Suits you, cowgirl,” He growls, leaning under the brim of the hat to kiss you, nibbling your bottom lip as he pulls away, “Keep it on.” He demands when you go to take it off.

“He didn’t need to get me a gift,” You mutter as Joel moves the two final gifts towards you, “And it’s a proper Stetson, this must have cost a fortune.”

“Not that it matters, because everyone in this household thinks the world of you, but he thrifted it, mainly because you’ve rubbed off on him and he thinks getting a pair of Levi’s for half price because someone doesn’t want them anymore is the best thing since sliced bread.”

You tilt the hat on your head a little so you can see under the brim, as he hands you an envelope this time, “These are from me.”

You open the envelope and pull out a postcard with a from New Orleans. You turn the card over, Joel’s handwriting scrawled on the back.

“Pack a bag baby, and let me take you away.”

“Are you for real?!” You exclaim, “You’re going to take me to New Orleans?!”

“Course I am, darlin’ girl,” He grins, “I know you’ve always wanted to go, and we’ve never been away together.”

“Are you even real?” You ask, wiping your tears away, because you’re overwhelmed, no-one has ever been so thoughtful.

“Last time I checked I was,” He chuckles, taking the postcard from your hands, replacing it with the last gift, a small box, “Go on, last one.”

You take it from his hand, tearing the paper off it to reveal a small box. You open it, and sat inside is a silver necklace, a silver hoop, entwined with a smaller hoop. You’d recognise this anywhere. You’d spotted it in the window of the jewellery shop downtown. You’d spend so long looking at it in the window before deciding you couldn’t afford it, yet here it is, in your hands.

“Joel,” You breathe, running your fingers over the delicate silver, “This is too much.”

He presses a single finger to your lips to shut you up, holding his hand out for the box, taking the necklace out as he pushes himself up onto the couch, putting the delicate chain across your neck, “Do you like it?” He asks from behind you, mouth right at your ear, breath hot on your skin.

You turn around, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling your hat fall off your head as he returns the embrace, “I love it Joel,” You murmur into the skin of his neck, “I love you.”

“I love you too, darlin’ girl.”

You spend the rest of the evening curled up on the couch together. You eat the slices of cake that Sandra had sent you home with, drink more beer, Joel even sits with his guitar outside, playing some of your favourite songs whilst you smoke a cigarette. When the sun has fully set and you’ve let out a particularly loud yawn, Joel closes up the house, takes hold of your hand, and takes you to bed.

You’re led against the sheets, getting yourself comfortable, when Joel comes back from the bathroom, leaning against the door with his thumb resting on his belt. He’s lookin at you with those deep, coffee-coloured orbs as you turn onto your side, propping your head up on your palm to look at him.

“How do you want it, baby?” He smirks, taking slow steps towards the bed.

You take your bottom lip between your teeth, because that is a very good question. Do you want him to be soft and slow like he had been that first time? So concerned he was going to hurt you with his size and strength that he refused to go any harder or faster than was strictly necessary? Or the time he made love to you after you’d looked after Sarah when he had to work late. When he’d walked into his house and found you painting her nails for her, watching a film that he’d never had sat through, his heart bursting with so much love that he had to push it all into you, whispering promises into your ear as he did so. No, you think, that’s not what you want right now.

“I want you to fuck me, cowboy,” You rasp, “Hard.”

He’s stood at the foot of the bed now, eyes dark with lust, “Well, what the birthday girl wants,” He murmurs softly, wide, warm palm clasping around your ankle, “The birthday girl gets.”

He tugs at your ankle, pulling you down the bed in one swoop, your legs dangling over the edge as his fingers work the button of your work trousers loose. You lift your hips up so he can drag them, and your underwear off your body, before he tugs you into a sitting position to work your blouse over your head. Your palms cup his face as you kiss him, your lips giving attention to his plush bottom lip as his hands reach behind you and work the clasp of your bra undone, dragging that off your body so you’re finally bared naked to him.

He pulls back, trails his eyes over your naked body, before placing his hand on your chest, right between your breasts, pushing you back down onto the bed. He trails his hands down the expanse of your sides, coming to the meat of your thighs as he settles his face between them. Normally this is where he’d tease you, use that mouth to trail soft kisses up and down the inside of your thighs, stopping to nip at the soft skin every once in a while, but he surprises you tonight.

Joel uses the flat of his tongue to lick a single stripe up the seam of your pussy. Then, he takes his hands, puts them on the backs of your thighs to push your legs back towards you, spreading them open further, baring the entirety of your spread, aching cunt to his face, before that tongue of his is diving into you, licking the slick that has been slowly gathering there from you, groaning at your taste. He drags his tongue up to your clit, using the tip of it to lightly flick at your clit, which has a quiet whimper leaving your lips as you tangle your fingers in his soft curls to keep his head anchored right where it is.

You’ve never really known a man quite as enthusiastic about eating your pussy as Joel Miller. The way he groans into your cunt as he laps at you, the way his fingers dig bruises into your skin as he holds your legs open for him, it all adds to the way he has your teetering on the edge of your first orgasm of the night in minutes. You’re bucking your hips into his face, chasing that burst of pleasure you know is so close to you.

You can hear the obscene sounds from him, the way he sucks your clit into his mouth, rolls his tongue over it before letting it go with a pop, or the way he literally slurps the slick from your entrance. It’s when he slips two of his fingers inside your slick cunt that you’re really done for – fingers stretching you open, a poor substitute for what’s to come, but it’s good none-the-less.

All of a sudden, that fiery burst of pleasure is setting your skin alight. Your body is arching off the bed, pushing your cunt further into Joel’s face as he sucks your clit through your orgasm. You can feel yourself clenching around his fingers as you let out as high-pitched shriek of his name as your body wracks with pleasurable aftershocks. You lie there, warm and pliant as Joel stands once he’s worked you through your orgasm. He takes off his shirt, and you marvel at that body, the one you get to enjoy, broad and strong for his work, but soft around the middle, just like you love. He’s looking you directly in the eye as he undoes the button on his jeans, belt from earlier seemingly lost in the bathroom before. You’re smirking as he drags his jeans and boxers down his legs, stepping out of them, stood before you in all his God damn glory.

He is, quite possibly, the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. Especially when he’s got his cock gripped in his fist, pumping himself as you spread your legs for him, pushing yourself up the bed so he can settle between your thighs.

You can feel the throbbing length of him slipping between your soaked folds as he finds a position, he’s comfortable with. You’re the one that reaches down between you and lines his cock up with your aching core, but it’s all Joel when he thrusts himself inside you, right to the hilt, in one go. He’s leaning forward, head rested in the crook of your neck, your name hissed out into your ear as he adjusts to the tight clench of your cunt. Your nails are already digging into the meat of his biceps when he drags himself out of you, before slamming back in.

He revels in the way his rough thrusts make your tits bounce, dipping his head to take one of your nipples into his mouth, gently nipping at the puckered bud with his teeth before soothing it with the pad of his tongue. He laves the same attention to the other, never once letting up the pace of his hips.

“This what you wanted, darlin’ girl?” He chokes out, looking down at you writhing in pleasure beneath him.

“More.” You gasp, hand reaching to grab at his wrist which is planted by the side of your head, propping him up.

He puts most of his weight on his other hand, letting you drag his other palm to the delicate column of your throat, where the sheer size of his hand covers it in its entirety. He rests it there for a moment, continuing to pound his cock into your pussy, but then he’s adding pressure to the side of your throat, giving you that delicious dizzy feeling to your brain, before he’s releasing the pressure. You’re grinning up at him, moaning his name as his hips continue to slam into your own.

“Like that, don’t ya?” He asks, “God you look so fuckin’ good with my hand around your throat, pretty girl.”

“Always fuck me so good, Joel,” You cry out when he shifts his position slightly, cock brushing that sweet spot inside you, “Do it again.”

So he does, he squeezes his fingers around your throat again, your mouth dropping open as a crazed giggle leaves your mouth. You wish you could step outside your body right now and watch, watch what the two of you look like – his hand around your throat, the way he’s pounding into you so hard you’re sure you’ll be sore in the morning.

You’re both breathing heavily as he trails the hand that was around your throat to grip at your jaw. He squishes your cheeks together, pursing your lips as his mouth claims your own, growling into you as his tongue licks at yours. He’s so fucking overwhelming right now, thick cock splitting you in two, strong body laid across your own, mouth on yours, and it’s still not enough. You want to peel his skin off and climb inside him, let him consume you whole.

Joel pulls back, hand still on your jaw.

“You my pretty girl, huh?” He asks, and you can only nod, his hand stopping you from talking, “Belong to me, right?”

His hand goes back down to grip your throat, gently though, with no pressure, so you can talk to him now.

“All yours Joel,” You purr at him, “Only ever gonna be yours.”

“Open your mouth,” He demands, using his hand to gently shake you, so you do, “Stick your tongue out.”

You do just that, staring straight into his eyes as he leans down, ever so slightly, and spits into your mouth. It’s warm, wet and utterly filthy, and you think it’s the entire reason that you can feel your slick dripping down onto his sheets now. Joel doesn’t even give you the time to swallow, chasing the saliva he’s just put into your mouth with his tongue, giving you the sloppiest kiss you’ve ever received.

“Fuck,” He spits out, pulling back from your mouth, “Ain’t gonna last much longer, darlin’ girl,” He confesses, those rough thrusts slowing ever so slightly, “Put your hand on your clit for me, let’s do this one together.”

Your hand slinks between your bodies, seeking out that sensitive bud, still reeling from the orgasm he pulled from you, it doesn’t take much work from your fingers to have you teetering on the edge, but you want to do this together, you have to hold on for him.

“Where d’ya want it?” Joel chokes out as your pussy flutters around him.

“Inside,” Comes your begging plea to him, “Come inside me, Joel.”

Your work your fingers across your clit a few more times before you’re coming around his cock, the nails of your free hand digging half-moon shapes into the meat of his shoulder. He manages three, maybe four more thrusts before he’s stilling inside of you, grunting out your name as the white-hot spurt of his spend fills your aching cunt. He fills you up so perfectly, holding himself there for a moment before he lets out a slightly pained sound, pulling himself out of your pussy.

He sits back on his knees, watching the white trickle of him cum seep from your spent hole. He takes one of his fingers, scooping his cum on it before bringing it to your lips, where you suck it into your mouth, running your tongue over it to catch every bit of the taste of him. He falls forward, forehead pressed to your own, kissing your lips softly, before he moves to lie on his side of the bed.

You push yourself up into a sitting position, leaning over to kiss him softly, mumbling that you’ll be back in a minute as you pad to the bathroom to clean up. When you come back to his room, he’s already under the covers, your side pushed back and waiting for you, so you clamber in, seeking out his torso under the covers so you can wrap your arm around him. He pulls you flush to his body, slick and warm from sweat, but you don’t care.

His arm is draped across your shoulder, his fingers tracing slow and soft across your skin, as he presses a kiss to the crown of your head.

“Happy birthday, darlin’ girl.” He whispers to you as he turns out the light.

“Best birthday ever,” You mumble softly against his chest as you let your heavy eyes closed, “All because of you, cowboy.”

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roosterforme · 1 year

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Batting Practice Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is craving more alone time with you, but his work schedule is going to make that difficult. And when Danny comes to tee ball practice and makes Everett cry, Bradley lets you know that he would be so much better.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley had a long night. He had to jerk off two times before he could fall asleep, and even then, he kept dreaming you were with him. He woke up, his body searching for you in his bed before he convinced himself you really had gone inside your own house.

When he had to get up to shower before the tee ball game, he felt like he had barely slept, but at least he'd be able to see you again in a few hours.

When he checked the time on his phone, he saw you had sent him a picture of you all snuggled up in your bed. You looked beautiful without any makeup on as sunlight lit up the bare skin of your shoulders, and he was texting you back right away.

Kitten, what did you wear to bed?

He forced himself to get up and head to his bathroom. As he was stepping into the shower, you wrote back.

Nothing. Kittens don't wear pajamas.

He couldn't write back. He'd never get himself in order if he did. But when he saw you and Everett arrive at the field, he couldn't help thinking that this whole thing would have been made better if he had slept over with you last night. He could have made pancakes for breakfast, and the three of you could have come to the game in his Bronco.

"Hi, Coach," you called to him with that little wave, and he knew he wasn't going to get enough of you. Especially not since he learned about all the little noises you make when you come apart in his lap.

"Kitten," he muttered, squeezing Everett's shoulder and sending him over to Bob to warm up. You were smirking up at him. "Where do you stand on me kissing you right now?"

"Oh," you gasped, and Bradley watched you glance around to see Sandra and all the other moms were nearby. "I..."

"It's fine," he whispered. "Just know that I want to, okay?"

You nodded up at him before he turned toward the game that was about to start.

It turns out the Tiny Eagles were indestructible up to this point. They beat the Tiny Falcons by five runs, and Everett scored twice. Bradley smiled when he turned to you both times to find you cheering for your son. You looked even more excited than you had when you had managed to hit some balls at the batting cages.

When the game ended and the kids started to disperse, heading toward the bleachers, Bob made his way over to Bradley.

"Great job, head coach," Bradley told him, shaking his arm and making him smile. "Undefeated after three games."

Bob nodded, blushing a soft shade of pink. "I think you're a better coach than you're giving yourself credit for. The kids love you."

Bradley's eyes caught on Everett as you knelt down to help him switch his shoes. "I'm having fun."

Bob followed his gaze and mumbled, "Do you know if Molly's coming to another practice or anything?"

Bradley had to reel in his desire to smirk. "You want me to ask Team Mom if she'll invite her sister again?"

Bob's blue eyes lit up. "Would you? I mean... I'll probably just chicken out again, but I want to ask her for her phone number next time I see her."

"Well, you should. According to her sister, Molly thinks you're hot." Bradley watched Bob's face turn from pink to bright red as he sputtered before turning and walking away.

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

You watched Bradley head your way, getting a high five from Everett. "You two sticking around? Or am I walking you to your car?"

More than anything you wanted to get to spend more time with him this weekend. You had to run Everett to a birthday party this afternoon, and tomorrow you had a family function. Both were things you would have invited him to tag along to if you had been dating him for a while.

"Busy weekend, Coach," you told him, running your fingers along the back of his hand. "Walk us up?"

You watched him crouch down so Everett could get a piggyback ride, and you laughed at the two of them in their matching blue jerseys and hats. "That's adorable," you told them, running a few steps ahead to take a picture. One that would probably make your heart melt every time you looked at it, but that was okay.

"Send it to me?" Bradley asked, and you texted it to both him and Molly.

You listened to Everett ask Bradley when he could go to the park again, eager to see that fastball in action. "I'll talk to your mom, okay? Figure out a good time?"

"Okay, Coach," Everett replied with a bright smile, one you never saw on his face on the rare occasion that Danny was around.

"And now I have a question for you," Bradley told you as you approached your car. "A favor, really."

"Yes, Coach?" you asked, smiling innocently at him. Last night you rode his thigh until you came in your jeans. Maybe he was right; maybe you did love to tease him.

You listened to him clear his throat. "Can you get Aunt Molly to come to another game? Or a practice? Please?"

You crossed your arms and rolled your eyes. "Don't tell me you're going to bring her more flowers?"

Bradley snorted and looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm not asking for me, Kitten. Bob's jonesing hard for Molly."

"Oh." Your first response was immediately embarrassing now. You already knew Bob had a thing for your sister, and now you sounded like an idiot. You watched Bradley set Everett down and open the car door for him.

"See you on Monday, kiddo." Everett gave him a high five before Bradley closed the door. Then he focused all of his attention on you. "Tell me you're not jealous, Kitten."

"No," you whispered. "And I already know Bob likes her. But Danny used to hit on Molly all the time, and I'm sorry, I just... I'm sorry."

Bradley was frozen, a look of disgust on his face. "Your ex husband used to hit on your sister? Are you joking right now?"

You shook your head. "He used to hit on everyone. I couldn't even have girl friends around. I could barely spend time with Molly. She hates him so much, I thought she was going to hit him at times."

"Kitten," he whispered, and he started to reach for you before he stopped. But before his hand could drop down to his side, you caught it. You had basically told him earlier that you didn't want him to kiss you in public, but now you were pulling him closer. You could make the next move here.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. After one soft brush of your lips, Bradley whispered, "We doing this in public now? In front of Ev?"

"Yeah," you confirmed, and then he kissed you a little harder, but kept his hands on all of your G rated body parts. He didn't let his lips linger too long, but he also didn't let you go.

"Let me know when you and Ev are free? Maybe we can get some pizza after practice this week?"

You nodded up at him. "You know who else likes pizza? Molly. Want to see if Bob's free, too?"

Bradley laughed. "Yeah. Let's work on that."

When you slipped into your car and started the engine, Everett said, "Mom. I think Coach Bradley likes you!"

You couldn't help but laugh. "I think so too, Ev."

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

Monday had been going so well for Bradley. You and he had been texting all weekend, including a few risque photos. You also managed to get Molly to agree to come to practice on Thursday, and Bradley already informed Bob that she would be there. Bob was already so flustered, Bradley didn't see how he would even make it to Thursday.

So his day was going well, right up until he was getting ready to leave base for tee ball practice.

"You have a minute?" Mav asked, and Bradley just shrugged.

"For you? I guess I have to."

Mav kind of laughed and then shook his head. "I have to send you up to Lemoore for a few days. Need you there by Saturday afternoon."

"You're joking," Bradley said. "I have a tee ball game on Saturday, Mav."

"Yeah, well, Bob can coach solo for one game. I need to send someone for training, and they selected you. At least it's not a full deployment."

Bradley ran his hands over his face. "Yeah," he grunted. He had already been planning out a way to get some more alone time with you. He had been hoping you'd agree to a sleepover at your house if Bradley left in the morning before Everett was up. Now he was going to have to go days without even seeing you. It's not like sleeping with you was the only thing on Bradley's mind, but his thoughts were wandering there a lot now.

He'd tell you today at practice that he would be gone for a bit. He was just disappointed that he didn't have much choice. After he parked at the ballfield and started setting things up with Bob, his heart leapt when he saw you park next to his Bronco. But then he saw someone park on the other side of you, and a man got out and was immediately in your personal space and Everett's.

Bradley looked on with concern as Everett ran ahead of you with his gear bag, his face pinched like he was about to cry. You were still next to your car, and the other man was gesturing wildly with his hands while he loomed over you. He was tall, and even with your heels on, he dwarfed you.

But Bradley peeled his gaze away from you as Everett got closer to the bleachers. "Hey, kiddo. You okay?"

He just nodded and sat down and started yanking his shoes off. But he didn't really look okay, and neither did you. Everett was swiping away tears before they could fall, and Bradley was seething with anger.

He knelt in front of Everett and helped him pull his cleats out. "Is that your dad talking to your mom?"

"Yeah," he replied softly and sobbing once before going silent again. Everett usually talked nonstop, constantly asking questions and wanting to know everything that was going on around him.

Bradley cleared his throat. "How was school today?" he asked, doing up the laces and making sure Everett was ready for practice.

But he just shrugged and gave another one word answer. "Fine."

Bradley sighed and patted him on the shoulder. "We're going to have batting practice today, and I'll make sure I put you at the top of the lineup, how does that sound?"

He watched the kid's eyes light up a little bit. "Sounds good, Coach."

"Great. Now why don't you start warming up with Piper and Amber?"

Everett reached into his bag and grabbed his Phillies hat, setting it on his head backwards just like Bradley. With a high five, he was off, running for the outfield toward Bob. And Bradley was standing up and getting a view of you struggling through the grass with your heels on, with a scowling Danny beside you.

When your eyes met Bradley's, he watched a hesitant smile meet your lips. You shouldn't be hesitating with him. Your pretty face shouldn't look like you were on the verge of tears yourself. Danny looked taller than him, but Bradley felt the almost uncontrollable urge to knock him to the ground. And he was afraid he would do it if you or Ev did start crying.

"I don't have time for this shit. You know that," Danny was telling you, practically yelling although he was right next to you.

Bradley watched you take a deep breath and stop walking. "Danny. He's your child, too. He only sees you a handful of times a year. He loves baseball, and he's doing really well. I thought you could take like two hours out of your schedule to see him practice."

Danny shook his head at you. "I work all the time. You know that!"

Your hands turned to fists at your sides. "You work all the time?" you hissed. "Smoking pot and having sex with twenty year olds while you wait for artistic inspiration to strike is not the same thing as working! When was the last time you sold a painting? When was the last time you paid child support?"

Bradley felt his blood boiling. He knew he was staring and eavesdropping, but he didn't give a shit. And if Danny gave him a hard time, he wouldn't back down.

Danny leaned toward you and got in your face. "You've always been like this. You don't appreciate the process. You act so fucking high and mighty, and then you can't understand why I don't want to be around the two of you."

"You don't need to spend time with me! I'm asking you to spend time with him!" you replied, turning back toward the ballfield where Everett was running the bases and laughing.

Bradley was done watching this shit. He rolled his shoulders and made his way toward you. There were tears in your eyes now, and he was probably going to level your ex husband right in front of all of the other team parents and players who were getting ready for practice to begin.

"Hi, Coach," you muttered when he got closer.

"Kitten," he replied, loud enough for Danny to hear. "And you must be Everett's father." He reached out his hand and shook Danny's, making it clear with his eyes that he expected Danny to shape up his act. "I'm Bradley. One of the coaches."

"Fantastic," he replied sarcastically.

Then Bradley focused all of his attention back on you. "Everything okay, Kitten?"

You nodded and smiled at him. "Yeah."

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

As soon as Bradley turned toward the ballfield to get the practice session started, Danny was all over you.

"So you're fucking your kid's coach? That's a good one. Classy."

You knew Bradley could hear him by the way his shoulders stiffened and how his steps slowed. Part of you wished he would keep walking, and part of you wanted him to come back and wrap his arms around you.

But you rounded on Danny, because he wasn't your husband any longer. "First of all, Everett is your kid too, and second, that's none of your business. And third, do you really think you should even mention that shit after the way you cheated on me?"

He was getting you riled up. He loved doing this. He would use this against you later, you knew he would. But you couldn't help yourself.

"I sincerely hope you don't invite random men like this tee ball coach over for the night when Everett is around," Danny said in the most condescending voice.

You sucked in a deep breath. "For once, just one time, I would like you to initiate spending some time with Everett. That's all I am asking for. Just a few hours. He deserves your attention."

Danny's response of, "I'll see what I can do," made you want to scream and throw your shoes at him. But instead, you just gingerly made your way to the bleachers, and he trailed behind you before sitting silently next to you. He took out his phone and never watched Everett at all. So you cheered twice as loud as you normally would while silently tamping down your rage. You couldn't even focus on the ridiculous things Sandra and Tara were saying behind you, because you knew if you took your eyes off of Everett and Bradley for a second, you'd start to cry. There was no way you'd let Danny have the satisfaction of knowing he could still do that to you.

When practice ended, Everett looked hesitant to come over to the bleachers. You nudged Danny with your foot, and he finally looked up with only mild interest.

"Great job, sweetie!" you told Everett, collecting him in your arms as he came closer. "You were awesome!" But Everett still looked like he was about to burst into tears with Danny around.

"Nice job," Danny said with a plastic smile. "I need to run, but we'll set up another time to see each other, okay?" He patted Everett on the head and then turned to leave without another word.

You weren't sure why you did this every few months. Part of you thought you'd be better off petitioning for full custody and leaving Danny out of your lives for good. But the other, softer part of you wanted Everett to have some sort of relationship with his father.

And then Bradley was standing behind Everett, gently patting his shoulders and looking at you. "Ev was doing a great job batting today. I think he could handle some real pitches soon. Maybe even the batting cages," he told you, and you watched your son's face break out into a smile.

"Really?" Everett asked Bradley, turning to look up at him.

"Oh yeah, kiddo. Definitely," he replied with a smile.

You swiped away at the tears that still seemed to be lingering in your eyes. "I'm so proud of you, Ev. We can go to the batting cages one day."

"We can all go," Bradley said, but it just made you want to cry more. You weren't in a relationship with him. You weren't even technically sleeping with him. But he treated Ev with so much more care and respect that Danny did. And he was good to you as well.

You knelt to help Everett change his shoes, and you were so happy to hear him asking Bradley a million questions again. As Bradley walked you both up to your car, he started teaching Everett about baseball stats, and you got your phone out to text Molly. You wanted to make sure she could still make it to practice on Thursday, but you decided to also let her know that Danny came to practice at the last minute today.

Molly: You've got to be shitting me. He really showed up? Was he a dick? Of course I'll be there on Thursday. I've got to ask Coach Cute Glasses for his number.

You snorted and tucked your phone away as Bradley helped Everett into the back of your car. "See you on Thursday, Coach!" Everett said, giving him a high five as he started to buckle himself in.

"Can I tell him about pizza?" Bradley asked you softly, and when you nodded, he draped one arm along the top of your car and leaned inside the door.

"How about we go out for pizza after practice on Thursday? Maybe with Coach Bob and your Aunt Molly too?"

"Really?" Everett asked, and you wouldn't know he'd been crying earlier.

"Yeah, my treat. It'll be fun," Bradley said, closing the door and focusing his attention on you.

You opened your mouth to argue with him right away. "Pizza will not be your treat! You bought me a one hundred dollar bottle of champagne!"

"Kitten, Bob and I will split the cost of the pizza. We need to make him look good in front of Molly, okay? Don't argue. Also, your ex husband is a fucking dick."

He backed you up against your car door with his hands at your waist and a concerned look on his face. "Yeah. I know."

"He made Everett cry," Bradley whispered. "Actual tears."

Your heart was pounding as you nodded up at him. "Thanks for making things better." Then his lips were on yours, and your palms came to rest on his chest. His kisses were soft, and he was pulling away from you almost immediately.

"Oh, Kitten. I don't want to see that kid cry ever again."

You were practically whimpering at his words, but you held it together. "Thursday will be better, Coach. Pizza with Molly and Bob," you said, lacing your fingers through his. "And maybe this weekend we can try to spend a little time together? Just me and you?"

"Oh, fuck," Bradley growled, his head tipping back. Then he was looking at you again, but his expression was far less pleased now. "I have to go to Lemoore for a few days. I'm leaving on Saturday morning."

"You'll miss the game this weekend?"

He nodded. "I'm not sure when I'll be back. But we can talk on the phone at night?"

You laughed softly. "Is that what a deployment is like?"

Bradley kissed your cheek and your ear. "Oh, shit, Kitten. No way. A deployment would be so much worse. Hardly any communication at all."

You pondered that for a moment. "You mean we would just have to miss you without even getting to talk to you? Because that would probably make Ev cry, too."

He cupped your cheek with his big palm and tipped your face up to look at him. "But I would spend the rest of the time when I'm back in San Diego and not deployed making it up to him. And you."

You nodded and kissed him. "I believe you, Coach."

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

Bradley thought a lot about you while he flew all week. He wanted to have the chance to really be with you, but going to Lemoore was making things difficult for him now. He was aching for the chance to spend a night with you. There was no way he would have passed up that opportunity with you for any other plans.

On Thursday, he was waiting to fly with Bob and Nat in the hangar. When Nat set her water bottle down to fix her boots, Bradley picked it up and finished her drink. "You need to stop that!" she complained when she saw what he had done. "And you need to tell me what's going on with your hot mama."

Bradley tipped his chin at Bob. "Ask him what his dinner plans are for tonight."

Nat turned toward Bob with a smirk. "You're dating a mom, too?"

Bob's flushed cheeks as he shook his head and sputtered. "N-No, not a mom. Everett's aunt."

It took Nat a second to piece it all together, but when she did, she started laughing. "You're interested in sisters?"

Bradley shared a look with Bob, and then the three of them were cracking up together. "This is too much for me to handle," Nat said, tossing her water bottle in the trash and heading to the tarmac. Then she spun around and excitedly asked, "Wait. Is there a third sister?"

"Just the two," Bradley confirmed with a grin.

"Damn it."

When Bradley was eventually showering before leaving for practice, he thought about the special treat he had tossed into his bag for Everett. It seemed really stupid now, but he couldn't get over the way Everett had been so upset on Monday.

And Bradley fucking hated Danny. Everett was his child! What the fuck? How could you do that to your own child? And you were so strong, it was baffling to Bradley. You invited Danny to practice even though you knew he was horrible, but you still managed to stand up for yourself and your son. Bradley was absolutely hooked. He wondered if he could ever be good enough for you to be willing to stand up for him that way too.

He had so many conflicting emotions as he hopped in the Bronco and headed for the ballfield.

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

Molly parked right next to you, and she hopped out of her car to scoop Everett into a big hug. "I heard we're going out for pizza tonight!" she cheered, kissing him all over his face while he laughed. "I love pizza!"

"Me too!" he cheered, and Molly sent him toward the bleachers while you and she followed behind him. You hopped out of your high heels and slipped your sneakers on while she helped you walk.

"Oh. There he is," Molly whispered with a grin. "Shit, do I like glasses now? Or just tall, sexy men?"

You watched Bob interacting with some of the kids, and you couldn't help but smile too. "I think Bob is actually taller and sexier than Casey was. And the glasses are like a cute little cherry on top."

"Are you checking out Bob?" Bradley asked when you reached the bleachers.

"Mmhmm," you and Molly both hummed in unison.

Bradley kissed your cheek right in front of everyone, and then he took your hand as he told Molly, "Bob's not just a pretty face. He also has a master's degree in aeronautics, volunteers at the library, comes to a full stop at stop signs, and he never litters."

"Sounds made up," Molly said with a smirk. "I'll be the judge of things."

You and she sat side by side and watched Everett practice. It wasn't long before she started asking you about Danny. This didn't surprise you, but he wasn't high on your list of things you wanted to talk about. But you did admit, "He made Ev cry. I was almost in tears, too."

Molly kissed your temple and laced her fingers through yours. "He's horrible. Just take him to court and get full custody. I can help you pay for another lawyer, since I know you're not getting any child support."

"I don't need money," you promised, your eyes tracking Everett as he hit the ball and ran past Bradley who was cheering him on. "You know all those people who claim you can save a bunch of money by just making your own coffee at home? Turns out those bastards are right."

Molly didn't laugh, but she also didn't press you for more information. She just held your hand until practice ended.

"My god... is he sweating? I think he's sweating," she whispered, and you realized she was watching Bob take off his glasses and wipe his face with a towel. "Do you think he would get upset if I licked his face?"

"Molly!" you said, cracking up.

But now Bob was looking at her with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, and she was just grinning back at him.

"You need to behave at dinner," you muttered as Everett ran over and climbed on Molly's lap to get his shoes changed.

You watched Bradley and Bob pack up all of the practice equipment and head your way. Bob cleared his throat twice before he managed to say, "Hi, Molly." And when your sister smiled up at him and greeted him by name, even you could feel butterflies in your tummy.

"Pizza time?" Bradley asked the group while Everett scrambled up onto his shoulders, knocking his hat off. When you caught it and set it on your own head, Bradley mumbled, "Looks cute, Kitten."

By the time you got to your car, Everett was laughing with Bradley, and Molly was smiling at Bob. You watched Bob climb into Molly's car as she told you, "Meet you there!" And then you turned to find Everett sitting on the tailgate of Bradley's Bronco.

"I have something for you, kiddo. It's not new, okay? He looks like he's seen better days, but he's still a good luck charm," Bradley was telling Everett while digging in his bag. When he pulled out a well worn stuffed Phillie Phanatic with slightly matted green fur and handed it to Everett, your heart skipped along erratically.

Everett held it gently with both hands. "It's the Phanatic! Can I keep him?"

"Yeah, kiddo. He's all yours," Bradley told him, leaning on the tailgate as well.

Everett hugged Bradley around the neck, and you felt so much love for this man. How was he already treating your kid this well?

"It's just a shame the real Phanatic is only at Phillies home games," Bradley said with a grin. "You've got to get your mom to take you to Philadelphia."

Suddenly two pairs of eyes were on you, but you were already shaking your head. "Maybe next year, Ev! Now hop in your seat so we can go get dinner."

Bradley wrapped you up in his arms, and you whispered, "Did you just give my son your very own stuffed animal?"

"Yeah," he said, his voice raspy and playful. "He got me through some hard times, just thought I'd pass him along. I can always come over and visit him at your house if I miss him too much, right Kitten?"

You looked up into his brown eyes in awe and ran your fingers along his mustache. "I just want you to know that if we were alone right now, I would be more than happy to help you through a hard time."

A smile spread across his handsome face. "Tell me more about that."

You bit your lip and ran your fingers down the front of his shirt. "It's just that, Kittens really know how to use their tongue."

Bradley groaned your name loudly, and you giggled when he grabbed your butt and pressed himself against you. "I need to get you alone," he whispered, and you kissed him hard, tasting his tongue and wiggling against him.

Then you pulled out of his grasp, leaving him reaching for you as you backed away saying, "I think it's time for pizza."

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

I hate Danny. Also, Coach and the stuffed Phanatic!! If you don't know what the Phanatic looks like, Google him and laugh! Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 11

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y0urm4m · 2 months

Text

Bathroom

Warnings: smut,M receiving, F receiving, swearing.

Summary: in which your mom is invited to an event but when you arrive you realise the place is full middle aged people. What will happen when you meet three other people the same age as you but you just can’t keep your hands off of one of them in particular

Y/m/n- your mom’s name

╔═ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═╗

I was currently getting ready an event my mom had been invited to, it was some formal ‘dance’. Which she hadn’t mentioned until yesterday so we had to rush to get an outfit and had to make sure it fit.

I turned to look at my mom, her already smiling back at me. “You look beautiful.” She said, wiping down the sides of the dress. “Thank you.” I replied smiling back.

“Right, have you finished getting ready?” She replied, sorting her own hair out in the mirror. I brushed the rest of my hair turning, placing the brush down. “Yeah, give me one second.” I spoke, rushing back up into my room. I had almost forgotten my purse and my phone, I quickly grabbed them both heading back downstairs. “Right let’s go before we’re late.” She said slipping her heels on, walking out towards the door.

I slipped into the passenger seat as my mum began driving. “I really hope there’s at least some people I can speak to there.” I muttered looking out the window. “I’m sure there will be.” She mumbled, humming to the song playing on the radio.

— We had finally arrived at the venue, it was mainly middle aged men and women filling the room. I patted down dress one again, walking inside with my mom but as soon we entered someone had came over to greet us. “I’m glad you could make it y/m/n,” The woman spoke. “And you must be y/n! I’ve heard so much about you.” She added shaking my hand, in return I smiled awkwardly. “Y/n why don’t you go get some punch, so I can catch up with Sandra.” My mother spoke ushering me over towards the drinks. I rolled my eyes, sighing and walking over to the stand.

— I had been stood at the drink section for five minutes. My mom now nowhere to be seen but a boy that looked roughly around my age, walking over caught my attention.

He smiled looking down at me. “I couldn’t help but come over and say how breath taking your dress is.” He giggled. “Thank you so much!” I replied smiling. “I’m Nick.” He said bringing out his hand to shake mine. “Y/n.” I said, shaking his hand. “Seeing as you’re standing here all alone would you like to come and sit with me and my brothers? I promise they’re not too annoying.” He asked, giggling again. “Sure.” I replied, following Nick as he brought me towards where his brothers sat.

“Matt, Chris. This is y/n!” He said, Matt and Chris looking up from their phones and towards me. “Nice to meet you Matt and Chris.” I said biting the side of my cheek. “Nice to meet you too y/n.” They both replied in unison, Nick and I immediately erupting into laughter. “Feel free to sit down y/n.” Nick said, motioning towards a chair as he also slid down on his chair. I obliged, sitting down.

“So what brings you to this event?” Chris asked, smiling. “Oh my mom was invited and insisted I came with.” I replied looking at Matt, who sat in the same position as before but his gaze was still on me. “Same here.” Chris chuckled. “Well I’m glad there’s at least some people the same age as me here.” I giggled, the three of them laughing with me.

— A few hours had passed and the conversation was still going strong, but this time Nick and Chris were bickering about their opinions on conspiracy theories. Me and Matt giggled together at the both of them. After a few minutes of listening to Nick and Chris’ current debate, I looked up at Matt to find his attention was shifted. I followed his gaze, he was watching all the couples that were currently slow dancing to unchained melody.

Until, he looked back at me arising from his seat. “Would you like to dance?” He asked, motioning for my hand. “Sure.” I smiled, entwining my hand in his.

He pulled me over to a spot that was pretty isolated, but close enough to the couples that not many people would pay attention to us.

He twirled me into his arms, as we fell into a rhythmic pattern. The music practically had us in a trance as we swayed to beat. His hands lay on my waist, his thumb making tiny circles. Whereas mine were situated around his neck. My gaze still on his as his eyes shot from mine to my lips.

I moved my head resting it right next on Matt’s shoulder, the feeling of his chest rising and falling was somewhat comforting. Us both still moving to the beat of a now different song.

Since the moment I had met mat I knew there was something different about him. I had only met him a few hours ago and I wished this moment never had to end. The second I felt his hands around my waist my stomach filled with butterflies. I just hoped he felt the same, even though I had met him just today.

I was brought out of my thoughts by him poking my waist, my head shooting up to look at him. He brought his head toward my left ear. “I didn’t tell you this earlier but you look absolutely beautiful.” He whispered just loud enough for me to hear, which had sent shivers down my spine. I looked into his eyes, a sudden burst of confidence and curiosity filled my body as I whispered back.

“Forget all the slow dancing, we could take it to the bathroom.”

His eyes widened as his mouth first hung open at first but slowly turned into a slight smirk. My hands falling from his shoulders as he placed his hand back in mine leading me towards the bathroom.

As we made our way outside of the bathroom stall, I looked around to see if there was anyone that would have noticed us slip inside. No-one to be seen, perfect.

We slipped inside the stall, my lips almost immediately meeting Matt’s as his hands once again found their way back to my waist whereas mine explored rubbed up and down his sides almost aching to take his shirt off. I pulled away. “Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, looking up at him looking for some sort of reaction. “Yes.” He breathed, pulling my face back into his. I began undoing his white tie, throwing it down next to us inching towards his shirts buttons. As his hands played with the straps off my dress then he removed my hands, spinning me around so he could undo the zip of my dress.

His finger tips inching down my back, sent shivers down my spine as the straps fell off of my shoulders. Matt pushing the straps lower until my breasts spilt out as I shuddered at the feeling of the cool air hitting my nipples.

His hands wrapped around the front of me cupping them, his fingers slightly tweaking with my nipples. The rest of my dress slowly falling down as I slipped out of the dress. I stood practically fully undress, Matt still in his pants and his shirt which was now fully unbuttoned. I turned to face his pulling the shirt off of him, my hand making their way to his hair running my hand through his brown slightly curly hair. His hands inching down to my black lacy thong, as he ran his finger tips over my fabric covered clit. In return I whimpered at the feeling, my thighs clenching as I became inevitably wetter.

He pushed my panties to the side, gathering my wetness before slowly pushing his middle and ring finger inside of me. I shivered at the feeling of his cold fingers. He kept his pace irritatingly slow and kept it that way for several minutes but every time I’d get close he’d stop for a few minutes.

“Matt, please just fuck me.” I whined impatiently.

He chuckled.“Patience y/n.”

I rolled my eyes, pushing him back. His eyes widened as I began taking off his belt,pants and boxers all in one. His dick now on show. I quickly gathered spit in my hand before wrapping my hand around the base, pumping it a few times. Causing a few groaning to fall out his mouth. “Fuck- y/n.” He groaned out, as I removed my hand from his dick.

I pushed my panties to the side, aligning his dick with my entrance eventually sinking down. A whimper leaving my lips at the stretch whereas a groan falling from his at the tightness. His hands finding there way to my waist once again, helping me move up and down his cock. As I picked up speed, the room filling with sounds of skin slapping, moans and groans.

I could already feel the sensation forming in my stomach. “Fuck, Matt I’m already close.” I whined. “I know.” He grunted, as he began thrusting his hips up helping me chase my orgasm.

I arched my back, my eyes rolling to the back of my head as I began to topple over whining Matt’s name.

“We’re not finished yet.” He growled. Flipping us around,bending me over before pushing his cock back in my cunt. His pace faster this time, his hips now pounding into mine trying to chase his own high.

The feeling of his dick pounding into me was intoxicating, it could have had me begging for more.

I could tell he was close by the way his dick was twitching inside of me.

“Fuck, I’m close,” He groaned. “Turn around on your knees for me.” He croaked out, pulling out fast.

I turned around getting on my knees as Matt pushed his cock down my throat. Making a make shift pony tail tugging on it slightly, he began thrusting his length down my throat causing me to gag. His pace the same as earlier. Spit dribbling out the side of my mouth, making me moan slightly sending vibrations down his dick. “Shit- I’m gonna come.” He groaned, shooting his load down my throat.

His mouth hung open, sweat dripping down his face as he pulled out of my mouth.

He raised his eyebrow at me as I swallowed his load, sticking my tongue out to show him.

He smiled down at me, reaching his hand out stroking my cheek.

— Me and Matt got redressed in silence, once we were finished he turned to look at me. “Are you okay?” He asked, I nodded sorting my hair out in the mirror. “Yeah I’m good, we should probably hurry so everyone doesn’t get worried.” I replied, turning to sort out Matt’s tie. He chuckled patting down my dress, “well once we’re back I think you should give me your number so I can take you somewhere nice.” He said, kissing the top of my head. “Okay.” I giggled, opening the door.

— We made our way back to the table, Nick immediately standing up. “Where the fuck have you guys been?” He asked Matt, raising his eyebrow. “Me and y/n was dancing then we got a drink and then got lost in conversation.” He replied sitting down on one of the chairs. Nick rolled his eyes sighing. “By the way y/n your mom was looking for you.” Nick said pointing towards where my mom stood, she turned to face us smiling before walking over.

“There you are y/n.” She smiled, looking over at Matt. “I was actually just talking about you two with Mary Lou.” My mom said, me and Matt looked at each other before looking back at her. “Don’t worry we wasn’t talking about anything embarrassing,” She laughed. “We were actually talking about meeting up another time.” She added. “Oh, that would be nice.” I said, Nick butting in. “You guys should come round ours sometime or we could go out for dinner maybe.” He said, causing me to giggle at his eagerness.

— As the night went on, my mom talked to Matt, Nick and Chris more as Mary Lou eventually made her way over introducing herself and joining in on the conversation.

For the rest of the event the six of us sat at the table talking and getting to know each other more but just as you think the night has started it always comes to an end. We all made our way outside the venue walking toward our separate cars as I remembered I was supposed to give Matt my number. “Matt wait up.” I said, grabbing the bottom of my dress running over towards him. “I forgot to give you this.” I said giving him my number before reaching over and giving him a kiss on the cheek, his face flushing red as I walked back over to my mom’s car slipping in the passenger seat. “Did I just see you give Matt a kiss on the cheek.” She said poking my waist. “You did indeed.” I giggled as we pulled away heading home.

This was definitely the start of something I’d wish never had to end.

╚═ஓ๑♡๑ஓ═╝

A/N: goodness gracious me, this took absolutely forever to write. I apologise if the end seems rushed but I do hope you enjoyed reading LOVE YOU ALL!

— Gracie

Tag list: @junnniiieee07

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hesbuckcompton-baby · 5 months

Text

I'm Your Man - Robert 'Rosie' Rosenthal x OFC - Chapter 1

AO3

Summary: As Frankie reaches the end of her second week at Thorpe Abbotts Airfield, she begins to find her footing among the men of the 100th Bomb Group

Warnings: Excessive alcohol consumption, language

Word Count: 4k

Tags: @mads-weasley @xxluckystrike @curaheehee

The setting sun cast a golden blanket over Thorpe Abbotts airfield, basking everything in an idyllic, orange glow that was almost beautiful enough to distract from the heady stench of motor oil that lay thick on the air, permeating hair and clothes so thoroughly that anyone who spent even five minutes in the place would carry it with them for the rest of the day.

Frankie Bevan clamped a flashlight tight between her teeth, the narrow beam of light illuminating the underside of the B-17's gun turret as she surveyed it for any cracks or gaps in the glass that could compromise its integrity. The rest of the ground crew had called it a day almost two hours ago, but the Yanks always did prefer to work in the daylight. She was nearing the end of her third year in the Women's Auxiliary Air Force, and after so many nights spent running the airstrips in the darkness for the RAF, Frankie was well accustomed to toiling away into the night.

Thorpe Abbotts was new, and yet much the same. It was only her second week here, compensating for the Americans' manpower shortages. The job was always the same, no matter where she went or what planes she worked on - checks, fixes, refuelling, over and over again - but thus was the nature of a mechanic's job. What she was not yet quite used to was the Americans themselves. Loud and brash and self-assured, Frankie was sometimes glad they worked different hours.

Taking note of a few cracks in the glass panelling, she reached up to swipe the torch from her mouth, offering a satisfied nod as she completed her checks for the night. All that was left was to pin her list of concerns up on the board inside the mechanics' Nissen hut, and then it was off to the pub for her.

Once she changed out of her oil-stained coveralls, that was.

"They're working you like a dog down there on the strip," Georgina, one of Frankie's bunkmates, pointed out, flipping nonchalantly through a magazine as she lounged on her bed.

"Someone's gotta do it," She shrugged, kicking off her coveralls as she rummaged in the shared wardrobe for the correct service uniform. "Some of the mechanics they've brought over are practically kids, not sure I'd trust 'em to fix my plane if I was going up there."

"You'd better show 'em what for, then," George smiled, glancing over as Frankie finished buttoning up her blouse, reaching for the navy blue jacket.

"You coming for drinks?"

"Uh, nah - I'll go tomorrow. Sandra thinks we'll be starting early tomorrow so I wanna get a decent night's sleep."

"Ooh, luxury," Frankie teased, shimmying her shoulders as she made her way to the door of the hut. "Alright, see you later."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The pub was crammed from door to door as she forced her way inside, the sound of chattering overpowering the music blaring from a radio in the corner. The American invasion of Thorpe Abbotts had well and truly been successful, scarcely a flash of RAF blue visible amongst the sea of khaki as Frankie burrowed her way through the crowds towards the bar.

"Pint of Guinness, please," She called over the din, the bartender offering a friendly nod of affirmation as she felt the crowd behind her push her body further into the edge of the bar.

"There y'are, love," The man nodded, placing the pint glass in front of her as she smiled her thanks, foam lining her top lip as she took her first sip. Frankie barely had time to wipe it away, turning to take a step back from the bar, before another body collided with hers. She gasped as the beer she had so looked forward to sloshed over the rim of the glass, pooling on the floor and staining the front of her uniform, as the other man's drink did the same.

"Woah, careful there!" The man cried, flicking a few stray droplets of spilt beer from his hand onto the floor. A deep frown creased her features as she peered up at him. The soldier was so tall that the tip of her head didn't quite pass his shoulder, and yet the irritation in her expression was so palpable that he took a full step back.

"Oh, that was my fault, was it?" Frankie tutted.

"Well, sweetheart, maybe if you'd been looking where you were going-"

"Maybe if you bloody Yanks gave us some room to breathe in here we wouldn't have a problem!"

There was an easy smile on the man's face that struck her as distinctly annoying. Discarding his now almost empty glass on the bar, the man put up his hands in surrender. "Alright, alright. Look. We're not gonna agree on this, so what d'ya say we settle this with a little friendly competition?"

She raised a brow. "What sort of competition?"

"Uh... how 'bout a drinking contest?"

Frankie let out a guffaw so forceful that the man's confident smile disappeared, and a few nearby airmen turned to watch the scene unfold. "Y'know what? Yeah. You're on."

With a nod, he turned away, marching towards the closest table. "Alright boys, gimme some space, I got a contest to win against half-pint over here."

She approached the table, sitting down opposite the soldier, smirking at his arrogance. The airmen he had kicked out of their seats were lingering to watch the spectacle unfold, and it was clear their bets were on her opponent.

"Now," He sighed, taking a seat. "In the spirit of good sportsmanship, I oughta introduce myself. John Egan," He said, reaching a hand across the table.

"Frances Bevan. Frankie," She nodded, shaking his hand.

Egan nodded. "So, normal rules apply. No spilling, no vomiting, gotta drain the glass. Still wanna do this?"

Frankie nodded firmly. "I'd never pass up such a wonderful opportunity to humble you Yanks," She grinned.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Egan was turning red, his smug smile long since vanished, the motion of his arm slowing as he reached for the next shot glass, glancing across at her with a slightly nauseated expression. The crowd surrounding them had long since grown since they had begun, although how long ago that was she couldn't quite remember. The huge pile of empty shot glasses in the centre of the table did nothing to jog her memory.

"Oh, come on, Egan, you've gotta do better than that," Frankie teased, reaching forward and downing her next shot. In fairness, she too was beginning to feel light-headed, but it never showed on her face, her demeanour as cool and collected as it had been when she first sat down.

"I thought... I thought this would be easy," John complained, grimacing as he brought the next glass to his lips. "You're so small, where are you storing all this liquor?"

"I'm British - pretty sure it's in our bloodstream," She teased. Egan's eyes narrowed as he weakly upturned the contents of his glass into his mouth, screwing up his face as the liquid ran down his throat.

"I really like her," John admitted, letting out a long sigh as he drew a hand over his eyes. A few of the airmen laughed, clapping him over the shoulders.

"I think we're done here," Frankie chuckled.

"You forfeit?" He asked hopefully.

"No, I'm saying you're about to. That or you're gonna throw up - either way, I win."

"Nuh-uh," Egan shook his head. "Not gonna happen," He fought to suppress a burp, and the room seemed to brace itself for the inevitable vomit that would follow, letting out a collective sigh of relief when he swallowed his nausea back down. "...Yeah. Ok."

She clapped, throwing up her hands in victory as a couple of the men standing behind her cheered. "Well, it's been a real pleasure doing business with you Major," Frankie chuckled, fighting through the splitting headache that was growing in her temples as she rose from her seat, offering him a hand to help him stand.

John batted her away, but stumbled as he got up, one of his friends pressing a firm hand on his back to keep him upright. She smiled. "I'll help you get him back since it's my fault. Gotta get back to the huts anyway."

The airman accepted, each of them slinging one of Egan's arms around their shoulders as he tilted haphazardly over to one side, struggling to prop himself up against her due to her height. Trailing towards the door, a few of the men let out celebratory whoops at her as she passed, praising her victory.

"Thanks for the night, gents - I'm here all war," Frankie called over her shoulders, a cheer erupting from the crowd as they dragged Egan sideways out of the door.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It was growing difficult to see as they marched John back to the huts, the street lights growing more and more sparse the closer they got to the airfield. "You gotta teach me how to do that," He slurred, tilting his head down towards her, the smell of liquor thick on his breath.

"You gotta get more practice in - you Americans with your 'no alcohol until you're 21' rule never stood a chance, we've just been in the game longer."

"Ah," He nodded, pausing for a moment. "Hey, why'd you call yourself Frankie?"

"Because Frances is a terrible name," She scoffed.

"Can I call you Fran?"

"Only if you want to die."

"Fair enough."

As they reached the end of the row of men's huts, she shrugged his arm off of her shoulders, relinquishing custody of John to the other airman, who thanked her for her help.

"See ya 'round, Shortcake!" Egan called as they trailed away, grinning proudly to himself at the nickname. Frankie scoffed, rolling her eyes and massaging her temples as her headache steadily worsened.

"You look like shit," George whispered as she wandered back into their hut. She had rolled her hair up into pin curls, protected beneath a headscarf, and was reading a copy of Wuthering Heights in the dim light of her bedside lamp.

"Got into a drinking contest with one of the Americans," She shrugged, tossing her beer-stained blouse and jacket into a crumpled heap at the foot of her bed, a reminder to wash them tomorrow.

"Did you win?"

"Of course."

"Shh!" One of the other women hissed from the opposite end of the room, shrouded in the darkness. Frankie pulled a face at her scolding, dragging a brush through the knots in her dark brown hair as George stifled a laugh, discarding her book and turning off the light once her friend had changed and gotten into bed.

It was silent for a while as she lay beneath the blankets, staring up at what would have been the ceiling if not for the complete absence of light. Her alcohol-induced headache thrummed behind her eyes, a constant, dull pain keeping her from sleep.

"George?" She whispered.

"What?"

"Do you have an aspirin?"

The sound of quiet rummaging was audible in the stillness of the hut, and she struggled to suppress a laugh as she felt the tube smack her in the face, a result of Georgina tossing it blindly in the darkness.

"Thank you," She giggled, trying not to gag as she took the pills dry, lying back and waiting for the pain to subside as she thought back on the night's events.

I'm not that short.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The blinding morning sun was unwelcome the next day as Frankie made her way to the airfield from her hut, bike resting against her hip as she made a momentary stop to fix her hair for the day ahead, hair tie held between her teeth as she scooped it into a ponytail. Most of the women she shared the Nissen hut with had left over an hour ago, hurrying to the flight tower in anticipation of the arrival of yet more American pilots, but her job didn't begin until after the planes landed, so fortunately for her, she had been afforded a little more sleep, her headache now more or less dissipated.

A loud honking startled her, the hair tie slipping from her teeth and falling to the floor. As she bent to pick it up, a jeep rolled to a stop in front of her, the horn parping once more.

"Fuck's sake, what?" Frankie muttered, glancing up to see the cheery grin of Major John Egan smiling down at her.

"Mornin'."

"Are you even fit to drive after last night?"

"Fifty-fifty. Hop in, throw your bike in the back."

She frowned as she noticed the pile of bikes already forming in the back of the car, but stacked her on top all the same, sliding into the passenger seat beside him. "Starting a collection?"

"Won them in a bet, night before last. Got one for me and my buddy Buck, he's arriving today."

"Is that Major Cleven?" She asked.

"Sure is," John nodded as the engine roared to life, taking them sailing along the road towards the airstrip, the wind ruining her hair before she even had a chance to finish it.

"So..." He began, swerving slightly to dodge a few maintenance workers on bikes. "Where ya from, Frankie?"

"Stratford."

"I... do not know where that is."

"I didn't expect you to," She chuckled. "Grew up with my dad working his garage, that's what got me into it. Always preferred planes to cars, though."

"You and me both," John nodded, slowing as they neared the landing strip. Up ahead, the flight crew were beginning to disembark, and Frankie's eyes narrowed as she noticed one of the airmen carrying a large dog.

"If they let that dog shit in the plane, I'm not cleaning it up," She stated. "You've heard me say it, that's on the record now."

"Yes ma'am," Egan affirmed, pulling to a stop, a grin spreading across his face as he got close enough to recognise his friends.

As he clambered out of the car, stepping forward to greet his comrades, she climbed out of her seat, wandering around the back of the jeep to disentangle her bike from the pile, tugging it free as the sounds of wind and aeroplane engines overpowered the men's voices.

"Oh, and, uh - This is Frankie Bevan," John called, guiding Cleven towards her, speaking louder so that she could hear. She raised her hand in a somewhat awkward wave, almost dropping her bike on her foot as she hauled it off the back of the jeep. "Best damn mechanic we've got, she's holdin' us together, that's for sure."

"Ma'am," Cleven greeted her with a tilt of his cap.

"He's never seen me work," Frankie shook her head, stepping forward to shake Cleven's hand. "We only met yesterday, he's just being nice in the hopes I won't tell you about how I drank him under the table last night."

John scoffed. "That is not what-" She raised a brow and he stuttered. "Yeah, that - that did happen."

Cleven laughed, squeezing Egan's shoulder. "Well, I'm sure glad he's had someone to keep him humble before I got here. Thank you for your work, ma'am, I'm sure we'll be seeing a lot more of each other soon."

She nodded, grinning at Egan's embarrassment. "How was your flight?"

"Smooth sailin', not sure there'll be anything to fix up this time."

A soldier she had heard John greet as Demarco spoke up from where he was stood, scratching his dog's stomach. "The dog dropped a deuce in the cockpit."

Clicking her fingers, she pointed to Egan. "She's not doing that!" He called, craning his head over his shoulder as Demarco put his hands up in surrender.

"Well, that works wonders," Frankie chuckled, lifting her leg to straddle the seat of her bike. "Now, if all you gents have planned is standing around, I've got work to do."

"Bye Shortcake," John grinned as she pedalled the bicycle into motion, ringing the bell and offering up a middle finger as she left. He chuckled, feeling Cleven clap him over the shoulder again.

"She's interesting... nice," His friend began. "Bucky, I know you're sick of Marge tryna set you up, but she is definitely-"

"She's definitely my friend, Buck. Besides, I could never date a woman with a higher alcohol tolerance than me. That's just embarrassing."

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The wind whipped her hair this way and that as Frankie hammered at the pedals, gaining speed faster and faster with each second until the rolling fields beyond the airstrip were little more than a green blur. She'd always loved to cycle, preferably as fast as she possibly could. Her father used to say she should try racing, but his ambition curtailed rather when she got in trouble for almost taking out a couple of tourists outside Shakespeare's birthplace on her way home from school. Besides, she'd never quite had the discipline for sports.

Her breaks squeaked noisily as she rolled to a stop outside the mechanics' Nissen hut, stationed just beyond the main runway. They had been given a single hut for all of their operations, much to the chagrin of many. The back end was an orderly pile of spare parts - buckets of rivets, piles of sheet metal - but someone had supplied them with a table and chairs, and the recent addition of a gas stove and kettle had proved a huge hit.

Ken Lemmons was sat at the table as she wandered in, glancing at the corkboard by the door where she and the others posted notice of anything in need of urgent repair.

"A couple of the guys replaced the glass in the gun turrets earlier - thanks for the shout," Lemmons spoke up.

"Ah, good," Frankie nodded, taking a seat opposite him. As much as she bemoaned her younger, American co-workers, she had grown fond of Ken. He was sipping a cup of coffee, and by the look on his face, he was not enjoying it. She tossed the paper bag containing her lunch onto the table, retrieving a cucumber sandwich - meagre subsistence, and a sight that made the boy frown.

"I think I'd actually murder someone for some Hershey's right about now," He remarked, grimacing as he took another sip of coffee.

"Hey, we make do with what we've got," She shrugged, attempting to devour the sandwich before the cucumber could soak through the thin slices of bread. "I know one of the girls in the Land Army - I darn her jumpers in exchange for a bit of her extra cheese ration."

Lemmons chuckled, leaning back in his seat. "I miss good chocolate. I can't get used to... Cad-berry's?"

"Oh, that's sacrilege," She laughed, tossing a slice of cucumber at him, which stuck to the breast pocket of his coveralls. "If you'd come a couple years ago when they were still making Dairy Milk you'd've thought you'd died and gone to heaven."

"I'll believe it when I see it," He grinned, plucking the slice off of his clothes. There was a pause before he spoke again. "One of the fellas says they're actually taking off later."

Frankie nodded, lifting a hand to cover her mouth as she spoke around her food. "Oh yeah? This gonna be your first proper go at it?"

"Yeah..." Lemmons admitted, looking momentarily nervous. "You?"

She snorted back a laugh. "Nah. I've been in the WAAF nearly four years - moved around a bit, but whether it's Attlebridge or Docking or Thorpe Abbotts, it's all the same gig. You stick with me when the planes start coming back down and you'll be fine."

The corner of his mouth tilted upwards in a smile. "You're gonna babysit me?"

Frankie grinned, standing up to reach across the table and ruffle his curls. "With a cute little face like yours, who could help it?" She teased, laughing as he batted her away.

"Get off, I'm serious," Lemmons chuckled, but the smile never faded from his expression.

Ken's buddy hadn't been wrong, per se, but his fabled mission had come not hours, but days later, with a hammering knock on the door to her hut, the women stirring from their sleep in a wave of disgruntled moans.

"What time is it?" Frankie whined as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, resisting the urge to burrow her head beneath the pillow and block out the relentless knocking outside.

"Four thirty," George groaned, frowning vindictively at her watch as she put it on, as if time itself had caused her personal grievance.

"They're flying today, get ready!" A young male voice bellowed from the other side of the door, clearly too shy to bare his face to a room of half-dressed, irritated women.

"Fuck me, I'm coming," She muttered, brushing her hair with one hand as she buttoned up the front of her coveralls with the other.

"Spot me! How's my lipstick?" George called, and Frankie leant across the bed that separated them to wipe a stray smudge of red away with her thumb.

"All good."

"Right," Her bunkmate huffed. "I'll see you later, yeah?"

"See you later," Frankie affirmed.

"I'll join you for drinks this time if all goes well!" George called over her shoulder as she scurried towards the door.

"I'll hold you to that!" She replied, smiling as she laced up her boots.

The planes left and returned in mere hours, but the in-between had felt never-ending as the ground crew waited in tense anticipation to see how many would return and in what state. Frankie had sent Egan away to the flight tower after his nervous hovering had started to get on her nerves, and she had since spent the last half-hour sitting in the grass beside the runway making daisy chains with a few of the local children as a way to pass the time.

"Frankie! They're comin' in!" She heard Lemmons yell from across the airstrip. Hurriedly sending the children back to their parents as the sound of plane engines grew steadily louder overhead, she scrambled to her feet, grass stains streaking the knees of her coveralls as she jogged over, raising a hand to shield her eyes from the sun as the planes began to descend towards them.

"...10, 11, 12..." Frankie muttered, coming to the slow realisation that many of the men they'd sent away that morning had not returned. But that loss did not negate the importance of the work they had to do now. "Ok, let's go," She patted Lemmons on the shoulder, and they reached for the bikes they had discarded on the ground nearby, pedalling hard towards the landing strip.

From the second they arrived, she was surveying the damage, scanning the planes for the areas that would need the most attention. It was impossible to pick just one.

"There's a reason we go at night," She muttered, so softly no one else could hear over the din of shouts and dying engines. The mechanics weren't emergency staff, but she'd seen a fair few planes come in either on fire, half-collapsed or both over the years, enough to learn it was best to get in as soon as possible.

"Shit," Lemmons huffed beside her, staring up at a huge, jagged hole in the metal of one of the plane's wings.

"Send a couple of the boys back to the hut - tell them to bring a car back with all the sheet metal they can put in it. Oh - and get me a welder!" She called to him, and the young man began barking orders at the other mechanics, the crew erupting to life around the plane as they began to fix the mess that had returned.

"Frankie!" Egan's voice rang from down below as she climbed up onto the top of the plane, marking out the areas of the body that needed replacing. She looked down at him as he yelled again. "You need anything?"

"Nope, we're good here!" Frankie replied, holding up a thumbs-up in case the wind drowned out her voice. Looking down at the work to do below her, it was as if she could map out every fix in her mind, envision every action in order, play it out in her head until the beast was as good as new. She smiled to herself. "This is what I do."

#masters of the air #masters of the air fic #masters of the air oc #mota oc #hbo war #john egan #gale cleven #ken lemmons #rosie rosenthal x oc #oc: frankie #mota #fic | i'm your man #oc: george

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lichenes · 3 months

Note

oooo Vincent reassuring reader when the reader meets Sandra for the first time. PS. Love your work

-🪼

Thank you 🪼 for the ask :D Glad you like my rubbish <33

Sandra my beloved. But I shall rise to the occasion and fulfill your ask.

CW: jealousy, brief neck kissing and brief kissing, angst and fluff?kinda? corny ending like, actually embarrassing, some plot holes (sorry!), SFW

wc: 451

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ _____

You weren't the jealous type, you knew you weren't. It never occured to you that you could love someone so passionately and be so possesive of them. When you were jealous though you felt like a hungry fox trying to steal away a chicken from the coop. That's what you were feeling now.

"Chéri?" He mused not quite paying attention to you. "I need to go to meet up with a client." He smiled when you put up an eyebrow questioningly. "What? I'm a full time lawyer, all hours of the day are office time." You chuckled lightly pecking him on the cheek and bidding him goodbye.

He came back around 11, quicker than you were expecting, a woman under his arm entering your house. You went out into the corridor looking confused at hearing a her voice. "Hello?" Vincent looked at you, his face contorting into something you couldn't quite name. "Oh sorry, didn't you get my message?"

You were sitting around the table in your kitchen. Sandra and Vincent chatting away while you were sitting with your arms crossed clearly uncomfortable with her presence. There's nothing to be jealous of, you thought. You were chalking up your envy to how beautiful Sandra was. How her ocean blue eyes complimented her dark blonde hair. How she moved so effortlessly through the room, how she gestured as if to impress but not overwhelm.

She existed purely to be adored and Vincent seemed to be adoring her too much. "And how about you?" Sandra asked with a smile on her face. "Hm?" You hummed, flustered as your own jealousy just overshadowed any connection you could've formed with her.

When Sandra left around midnight she hugged you. She hugged you real tight, a hug cementing the fact that she would be showing up more often in your life. You hugged her back not wanting to seem off.

When she got out of your space Vincent came up to you and hugged you from behind.

"Sorry for taking so long chéri. I know you don't like unexpected guests." You relaxed into his touch, putting your head on his shoulder and letting him kiss you on the neck. "Honey..." you started. "Sandra and you... you're not..." you trailed off.

He spun you around and looked at you concerned. "No. Absolutely not." He got closer to your face as if to amplify his point. "I wouldn't do this to you. Ever. Don't think that of me mon cœur." He kissed you as delicately as he could, bringing you closer to yourself.

"I love you." You said after you broke the kiss. Tears already welling up in your eyes. "Et je t'aime aussi." He said wiping them.

_____✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ ... ✿°•∘ɷ∘•°✿ _____

masterlist

#x reader #anatomy of a fall #swann arlaud #vincent renzi #vincent renzi x reader #vincent renzi x gn!reader #angst #angst and fluff #fluff

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harlowcomehome · 1 year

Text

You’re my daddy, not his! :

Requested by my 💛 anon.

You and Jack were rushing around the house, trying to make sure that you had baby-proofed everything you needed to for safety measures.

You had already done this because of your own kids but you wanted to make extra sure your company was safe.

“I forgot what it was like to have a small baby around” Jack laughed.

Hazel was already nine and Jade was going to be four.

“I think we both did way too much but better safe than sorry” you shrugged. “Sandra said she’d be here in about an hour.”

“So in two hours then?” Jack teased.

Sandra was a friend of both of you, Jack had met her through the label and her oldest child had a lot of play dates with Hazel when they were younger. Her oldest, named Lordes was six and then Sandra just had another baby a couple months ago, so you and Jack invited her over for one of your family barbecues so everyone could meet her new addition.

“Clay said he’d be here in about fifteen minutes to start grilling” Jack smiled and you nodded.

“You know you’re capable of grilling too right?” You teased.

“Clay does it better though” he smiled, and he wasn’t wrong.

You clicked your tongue at him, shaking your head as you handed him the food that would need to be grilled.

“Daddy, can you set up the sprinkler? Please?” Hazel asked impatiently as she already had her bathing suit on.

Jade walked over to you, “I don’t wanna play in the sprinkler, I tired.” She yawned and you picked her up, resting her as best you could on your hip.

“Do you wanna take a nap? Your uncles and aunties will be here soon” you reminded her as you knew she wouldn’t remember.

“Small one” she yawned and you walked her to her room.

“Let me know if you need anything” You pushed her curls out of her face and kissed her on the forehead before quietly leaving her room.

Shortly after you left her room Clay, Urban, and Copelan showed up. “Hey, guys!” You walked over and gave them all a hug and let them know Jack was in the backyard with Hazel.

“Need help with anything?” Copelan asked you before you assured him you were fine and he joined everyone else.

Your house started to fill up with all the usual family and friends it always did, and then finally Sandra showed up. Jack was right, she was always fashionably late but you didn’t mind it.

Jade had just woken up from her nap and decided to join her sister and cousins in the backyard.

“Oh my gosh! Sandra!” You hugged her and greeted Lordes before asking to hold her new baby boy.

“Of course! Gives my arms a rest” Sandra smiled.

Jack walked inside and assured her the food was ready and to let loose and relax. She knew everyone there anyway.

You sat down on the couch, admiring the baby. “Hi Santiago, I’m y/n. I’m so glad your mommy could make it today so I could finally meet you” you whispered.

Jack sat beside you, admiring how beautiful you looked holding four-month-old Santiago.

“He’s so little” you hummed, smiling at the baby.

“He’s adorable too” Jack responded.

“Do you wanna hold him?” You looked up at Jack. He eagerly nodded, taking him from you as softly as possible.

You smiled at your husband, you’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss the days when your babies were tiny. He had such strong paternal instincts and you found it incredibly attractive.

Santiago cooed and made small mumbling sounds but he was asleep for the most part.

“Don’t look at me like that” he half chuckled as he looked up and into your eyes.

“Why? You might mess around and give me another?” You winked and he just smiled and shook his head.

“Sometimes I think about it”’ he admitted, “but not for long, two is more than enough.”

Jack never forgot your difficult birth with Jade, and obviously you didn’t either. It traumatized you both.

“Does it make you sad that we never had a son?” You looked down at Santiago, with tears in your eyes.

“Never, I have my girls and that’s all that I need” he hummed, leaning over safely to kiss you. “You three keep me on my toes enough as it is” he laughed.

Hazel and Jade walked in quietly, “can we see the baby?” Hazel asked excitedly but Jade was more reserved.

You noticed Jade looking at Jack intensely. “Why’s daddy holding that baby?” Jade asked you, as she crawled into your lap. She was still watching her dads every move.

“This is Santiago” Jack showed both the girls but Jade remained uninterested.

“He’s so cute” Hazel giggled as she sat between both you and Jack.

“Not cute,” Jade said with a huff, “Bald.”

“Jade!” Hazel gasped.

“Don’t know why daddy is holding a baby that’s not his baby” She scooted off your lap and went and sat on the arm of the couch next to Jack.

“You don’t need to hold him” she scolded, wagging her finger at him.

You realized what was going on here and wanted to giggle but you felt genuinely bad for Jade. When Jade was born Hazel had to learn to share her parents but Jade never had that experience.

“Jade, it’s okay. Daddy is just holding him while Sandra eats” You tried to calm her emotions.

Jack wanted to comfort her, but his hands were full.

“What’s wrong with her?” Hazel whispered to you.

“Remember when Jade was born and you had to share Daddy?”

“Yeah? She doesn’t wanna share?” Hazel whispered.

“Yeah, something like that bug” you sighed.

“You’re my daddy, not- not” Her eyes filled with tears and she started to cough on her own spit.

She was about to have a full fledge Jade Harper Harlow breakdown.

“Oh shit” Hazel cussed but you were too overwhelmed to react.

“Gimme the baby” You reached your hands out to Jack and took Santiago as he stood up to comfort Jade.

“Jadey” he picked her up as she started to wail. He took her to her room as he tried not to disturb the baby.

Sandra walked in, as she heard crying. Lordes followed too. “I heard crying?”

“Jade was a little jealous after seeing her dad hold Santiago. She didn’t sleep much today.” You nervously laughed.

“Oh, she was the same way” she motioned to her daughter Lordes.

“Hazel too” You smiled and Hazel groaned.

“I don’t remember.”

“Me and Daddy definitely do though” you laughed.

You handed Santiago back to Sandra for a feeding and you went to check on Jade and Jack. Hazel went back outside to play with Lordes and her cousins.

You walked up to the door, you heard sniffling and you quietly opened the door. Jade was in Jack's lap and he was rocking her back and forth.

“You know you’re daddies baby right? I love you so much” he continued to tell her and she sniffled. She was more calm than she was a few moments ago.

“Why holding the baby? Mommy didn’t have a baby.”

“Sandra is mommy and i’s friend and she had a baby. She was just letting me and your mommy hold him.”

You sat down beside them on the bed.

“So he’s not living here?” She said excitedly looking at you both and Jack chuckled.

“No baby, he will go home with Sandra when she leaves” he reassured her.

“Ohs, he will go home? Does this mean you still loves me?”

“That’ll never change” you and Jack said in unison.

“Ohs, I feel silly now” she giggled wiping her eyes. “I go play?”

“Yes sweetheart, go play” Jack helped her off his lap and you both watched as she ran out of the room.

“I told you, the three of you keep me on my toes”’ he laughed and you scooted closer to him.

“I love how you handled that” You pulled him closer for a kiss.

“Oh really? Let me handle you next” he winked.

#Jack Harlow #Jack Harlow x reader #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow concepts #Jack Harlow imagines #dad!jack #jack harlow blurb #💛 anon

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morganbritton132 · 1 year

Note

would steve ever insist that eddie comes to basketball games with him just so they have an excuse to get those good seats right at the court that famous people and celebrities usually get?

Eddie is not Steve’s go-to person if he wants basketball tickets.

He goes to Lucas because every doctor knows a doctor that knows someone with season tickets they never use. And also, Steve kinda wants to go to the game with someone who, you know, will actually enjoy being there.

Eddie’s undying hatred of all things sports is, well…undying.

But Steve’s been a Pacers’ fan since the first time his dad shoved a basketball in his hands and taught him how to shoot. He has watched them lose in the playoffs every year that they make it to it, but he’s convinced. 2014 was going to be different.

He just can’t get tickets. He spent all day trying to buy them online and failed, and all the resale tickets are for seats that suck or way over his paygrade. Him and Eddie pay for their own hobbies out of their separate bank accounts, and Steve can’t afford the absolutely ridiculous price that’s being asked so…

“Please?” Steve asked, big puppy eyes and adorable little pout. He knew what he was doing and so did Eddie. “Pretty please? I never ask you for anything, Ed…Okay, fine, except for all the stuff I ask you for, but this is different. It’s a small price to pay to see my team win.”

“Your team that has literally never won in the history of all time?”

“How many championships does Leg-less the loser elf have?” Steve asked.

“…It’s Legolas,” Eddie said. “And he was a part of the fellowship that kinda saved the world.”

“So was I,” Steve pointed out. “And I deserve this.”

Steve didn’t ask for courtside seats. He didn’t ask to be sat among the rich and famous. Hell, he didn’t even ask Eddie to go with him. He just wanted to see if Eddie had a connection that could get him a ticket for a seat that wasn’t in the nosebleeds.

Steve doesn’t really believe that the tickets Eddie showed him are real until they are sitting in their seats – their seats that are courtside and five feet away from Paul George warming up. Steve is so excited to be there that he pretty much misses Eddie shaking someone’s hand right in front of him until he’s nudged in the shoulder, “Babe, you know, Sandy, right?”

“Yeah, totally,” Steve says absently, sparing a glance in the direction Eddie was gesturing before looking back out at the court. It takes him a second for his brain to register who he was just looking at and then, “Holy shit, you’re Sandra Bullock.”

She is just as beautiful and as nice as Steve has always thought she was, and she’s amused by him which makes Steve blush. She holds out her hand to him, “And you are…”

“I’m…” Steve trails off, only picking back up his train of thought when Eddie laughs loudly beside him. “Steve. I’m Steve. Uh, Harrington. Eddie’s – I’m – we’re together, by law.”

“We’re married,” Eddie grinned, throwing his arm over Steve’s shoulder, and wiggling his wedding ring at her. “Still working on how to tell people, obviously.”

She congratulates them and talks to them a bit about the game (bring Steve out of his starstruck stupor), and even buys them champagne as a late little wedding gift. It’s a blast.

Eddie spends half the game flinching every time the ball bounces a little too close or a player nearly ends up in their lap, but Steve is loving all of it. The other half of the time, Eddie is having Steve explain what’s going on and who the players are, or he’s talking to the guy next to him.

It’s some square jawed model type that Steve doesn’t recognize and also, doesn’t like. He’s a little too friendly with his husband, especially when he curled a piece of Eddie’s hair around his finger. When the two of them end up on the kiss cam together, Eddie doesn’t even get a chance to register it before Steve pulls him nearly out of the camera frame and kisses him.

Later, fans will make jokes about the pictures of that night because it’s very clear that Steve and Eddie switched seats.

#channeling this pictures of Ethan Hawke and his son switching seats so he can talk to Rihanna #btw I don’t know anything about basketball. all if this was googled #Steve’s like: remember when I got brain damage saving the world? buy me tickets for it #And Eddie every time a player nearly collides with the first row: How is this legal or safe?#eddie munson tiktok saga #steve harrington #eddie munson

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bubuslutty · 1 year

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Angel on Duty: the first meeting

All Parts

pairing: demon/angel fem!reader x 141

word count: 2.1k

tags: semi-canon compliant, reader is described as having a tail and horns but calls herself 'Angel', do what you will with her real nature but she's simply sent down to fulfil a wish, no use of y/n, reader is referred to as 'Angel', 3rd person pov, minimal description of appearance, proofread by me so sorry for any mistakes

warning: none

summary: the 141 boys have a fantasy to get captain price the fuck of his life, but also share it amongst themselves, a shared cumdump if you will. which basically translates into "we need a woman to break our miserable old man, and break us in the process and rebuild us again just to do it all over again." they're just miserable and pent up and horny and want to be taken care of, that's all :)

a/n: there's no smut in here cuz this is just the intro. bon appétit either way 💞 also let me know if u wanna be added to my cod taglist 😖

What do you know about prayer? About wishing? Blowing birthday candles and wishing upon a star?

Ever since the beginning of time, it is man's nature to wish, hope and pray. To whom? That has always changed and shifted throughout the centuries, with prayers sent to different deities, angels, ancestors and so on.

But what humans don’t know is that all of their prayers, all of their wishing, if it was strong enough, if they really want it, really bad, their wishes just might become reality. And that was all done through a meticulously built system in another realm, where what humans considered angels worked day and night to realise them.

“Hold on, you’re not about to give me this much work when I’m literally getting paid minimum wage.” A woman said, waving a folder around in the air with wide eyes.

“If you have an issue, you can take it up to HR.” A man said unimpressed, not even looking up from his computer.

“Haha, funny. Seriously, why the hell did I get one wish and what? 8 humans??” The woman said, slapping the folder on the desk, making the man hiss in annoyance.

“Why must you be so difficult? It’s one wish and 8 humans who have the same wish? What’s so hard to understand? Get down there and do your thing.” The man said, visibly irritated, trying to shoo her away with one hand.

“You sent this down to my office and did not expect me to have questions?? If all little boys' wishes about becoming the next Ronaldo could be realised, Sandra down the sixth fraction would have 82 thousand humans, alone, to go through!” The woman said, hands on her hips and standing with her knees to the desk’s edge, casting her shadow on the man sitting in front of her.

“Who’s Sandra?” The man asked.

“I don’t know.”

The man finally stopped staring at his computer screen and stood up, rounding up his desk and grabbing the folder in his hand, “Did you even read the reports?”

“No, just the first page.” The woman said, twirling a hair strand in her finger while the man stared at her with an unimpressed look.

“For fuck sake…Okay, see here?” He said, pointing at the wish, which was a paragraph long. The woman nodded and he kept going, “This group of humans share the same wish, or fantasy to be more realistic, and it’s all linked together through one man.” He explained, flipping to another page and tapping a finger on a man’s profile and picture.

“Oh, he’s beautiful.” She said with a gasp, eyes flashing with a red light that made the man gulp and quickly look away from her face.

“They all work together and have this complex dynamic of friends, but also family, but also this relationship,” He said, flipping through the other profiles, and letting her look at every picture.

“What does that mean?” The woman tilted her head to the side in confusion.

“Their whole thing is a tangled mess of different dynamics with each other, but it all comes down to the first man I showed you, he’s like the glue of their team, but he’s what keeps them whole and sane, individually.” He said and glanced back at her and noticed her confusion but also the amazement on her face.

“They are fascinating…”

The man placed the folder back in her hands and turned to get his desk phone, “They are, now I’m going to call Beck to confirm some last details and you should be down in the mortal realm by tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!”

“They’re moving in tomorrow, and so are you.” He said and watched her leave his office with a shocked but excited expression nonetheless. He walk out of the door without having to touch it for it to wing open, the long black tail swinging back and forth, poking from under her short skirt and the horns that almost grazed the top of the doorframe.

The woman stood in front of a beautiful house in the middle of London, hugging a white cat with black ears and a black tail to her chest as a lorry parked in the street, next to her taxi. “I guess this is where I’ll be living for the next weeks… Not bad.” She said, petting the furball in her arms while the taxi driver removed her bags from the trunk.

“Thank you.” She thanked the man with a smile, and he smiled back, a blush high on his cheekbones and reluctantly left, glancing at her over his shoulder every two steps.

Then another man approached her, dressed in a blue shirt and hat, “The keys ma’am?”

“Oh yes, sorry.” She gasped, placing the cat on the ground and running to her bag, retrieving a set of keys and handing them out to the man with a small smile.

“Thank you.” He nodded and started walking to the house while other men dressed in the same uniform spilt out of a van, surrounded the lorry and started helping each other in carrying furniture inside the house while she stood to the side, watching.

Suddenly another car parked in the driveway of the house right next to hers, and she watched with curiosity as four men exited the car, looking tired but excited at the same time. They looked huge, carrying dark green and black bags on their shoulders and heading straight to the door, but without glancing at the woman.

She fought against a grin and held eye contact, her cat, Kuromi, purring against her leg. Then she moved before she could think.

The four men froze at their doorstep, still staring at her as she walked up to them. That day she was wearing a back suit with black heels and a black bralette instead of a button-up, the trousers hugging her hips so well along with her legs.

“Hey, I just wanted to introduce myself as your new neighbour. I’m Angela Ali, but you can call me Angel.” She introduced her fake name and gave herself a better nickname, internally snickering at the irony.

“Well, hello, we’re also new here.” Soap spoke when nobody said anything, he even smiled back at the beautiful woman.

Her eyes widened in surprise, both at his thick Glaswegian accent and the information he just gave her (which she already knew but she had to act the part), “Really? I had no idea! Maybe we can be friends and look out for each other in this neighbourhood.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. I’m Johnny MacTavish, by the way.” He finally introduced himself and stuck out his hand, and when she shook his hand, he felt tingles at the bottom of his spine, making him let out a breathy laugh.

“I’m John, John Price.” The second man said, sticking out his hand and keeping his eyes respectfully on her face and nowhere else. It was so stupid, he was tired, yes, but not that tired to be easily dumbfounded by a random beautiful woman. And John prided himself in his manners, so when his eyes landed on her body as she walked up to them, he couldn’t help but drink in every dip and swell like he was deprived.

That’s so embarrassing.

Angel smiled and shook his hand, shivering when his warm big rough hands engulfed her smaller one. He was the same man she called beautiful that day she received her wish file. And he was, not in the way humans usually described something as beautiful. But to her, despite his huge body, thick thighs and arms, deep voice and beard, his eyes held something in them that pulled her in. She could sense the man’s thoughts, emotions, wants and needs.

“Nice to meet you, John.” She smiled at the man and turned to greet the other two, who both introduced themselves as Simon Riley and Kyle Garrick.

Simon was wearing a simple black surgical mask, covering the lower half of his face. But she already knew what he looked like, she has his profile. She knows he has a scar that runs through his upper lip on the left side of his face.

His pale blue eyes were intense, looking at her, calculating, careful, as if she was a threat, someone to look out for.

Angel let him be, staring as much as he wanted.

Kyle on the other hand was all smiley, radiating warmth and friendliness. He was handsome and charming, and made Angel want to talk to him for two hours straight. Did I mention his smile? That man's smile is absolutely beautiful. You would never guess he's a soldier, a killer, a beast in the field.

“I’ll let you get settled, now. See you around!” She said and turned around, walking back to her house, noticing that her bags were moved and Kuromi was meowing by the door while men in uniforms were still working as fast as they could, unpacking everything and placing the furniture where it belonged. She reached the door and picked up the cat, gave her a kiss on her little head and looked over her shoulder and saw how the four men were still staring at her, and they all immediately stumbled inside their house, slamming the door shut behind them.

Angel giggled and finally stepped inside her new home, shaking her head.

Angel lay on her stomach, on her new queen-sized bed with a pizza box on her side and a laptop casting its bright light on her face. She took another bite of her pizza and read through the document on the screen, which was a digital version of her wish file, with extra documents going more into detail about each man she was to work on for the next weeks.

“Alright, what do we have here? Childhood trauma…Oh, oh, poor lad…” She frowned at the screen and read along the lines explaining some of the things Simon went through, she had read almost everyone’s files in detail, and it was already dark out, probably around 11PM. Angel checked the time and gasped when she realised it was actually 2AM.

She even had files about their careers, she just quickly skimmed through them just to see if there was anything serious to watch out for, but ignored everything else, just because she wanted to give a chance for the men to surprise her, it wasn’t very fun when she knew everything. Plus she was going to spend a couple of weeks on this job, so she might as well make it fun for herself.

Her horns and her tail were nowhere to be seen because it was a rule to hide one's true identity when in the mortal realm, or at least the form they like to wear in the wish realm. And hers was a pair of horns and a tail because she thinks it's funny to take on the form of a demon when humans think their prayers and wishes go to angels.

She was not an angel, nor a demon for that matter really, her whole existence revolves around realising human's wishes, and her form? She can take on anything she feels comfortable in. But when she's interacting with humans, she must take on a human form to hide her true nature.

Her phone suddenly rang and she flinched, looking down at the vibrating device. On the screen, a clock and a reminder to 'EAT FOOD' could be seen. She turned off the reminder and hummed, "Yeah, yeah, I'm eating.."

You see, Angel, still struggles to get into the habit of eating regularly when in human form. No matter how many jobs she's completed, she somehow still forgets to eat because you don't have to eat in her realm, you don't even need to sleep or go to the toilet. So setting herself a reminder on her phone is necessary if she doesn't want to suddenly drop.

"Oh, I forgot to read my own files." She gasped, sitting up straight and placing her laptop on her lap. After a few clicks, she opened her own files, highlighting her new identity and timetable.

"Okay, I'm an only child… Single, of course, duh, and my job is a sex therapist!" She said, brows raised and quickly reading next lines. "I only have to go to the office two days a week?... Nice. And I'm a PhD student… in psychology?.."

Angel groaned and fell on her back, her laptop still in her hands, it seems like she needs to start doing some research on human education.

tag list (pls ask to be added or removed): currently empty

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lostloveletters · 6 months

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One of Those Nights (Sonny Corleone x Reader)

Summary: You’re Sonny and Sandra’s go-to babysitter, and when Sandra’s out of town for the weekend, Sonny needs all the help he can get.

Note: College-aged female reader, but no other descriptors are used. I listened to Donna Summer while writing this lol. Anyway, my first Godfather reader-insert fic! Do not interact if you're under 18, a terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Implied age gap, power imbalance, cheating. Sexually explicit content involving unprotected sex and Sonny's canonically huge cock. A little bit of praise kink. Do not interact if you're under 18.

Your eyes fluttered open from your half-asleep stupor at the sound of the front door’s locks clicking. Sitting up on the couch, you quickly smoothed out your blouse and skirt. You just barely made it into the kitchen when Sonny got in.

“Sorry I’m back so late. I wanted to be home to put the kids to bed—“

You shook your head, smiling. “It’s fine, Mr. Corleone. Frank and the twins are already asleep. There’s some sausage with peppers and onions in the icebox if you haven’t eaten. I can heat it up quick on the stove for you.”

“Jesus, you’re already doin’ us a favor staying the weekend while Sandra’s outta town,” he said, shedding his tie and undoing the first few buttons of his shirt. “And how many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Sonny.” He playfully pinched your cheek. “I’m not that old yet, am I?”

“No,” you giggled. “Sorry, Sonny.”

The kitchen's layout was almost second-nature to you at that point, having done plenty of cooking for Sonny and Sandra's sweet kids when you babysat them. You grabbed a frying pan, setting it on the stovetop and pouring in a few drops of olive oil before turning on the flame. By the time you got the plate you saved for Sonny out of the refrigerator, the oil was sizzling, and the scent of sweet peppers and onions filled the kitchen again when you’d scraped the contents of the plate into the pan.

Sonny was quiet behind you, save for him tapping his freshly lit cigarette against the porcelain ashtray on the kitchen table. You knew the sound well. His gaze burned through your back to your rapidly beating heart as you became increasingly aware that you were alone with him, the man who you lusted after in quiet guilt, because he was married and you were his children’s babysitter, for Christsake.

After a few minutes, the sausage with peppers and onions appeared thoroughly reheated, and you transferred the meal back onto the plate. You grabbed a nearby loaf of crusty bread, cutting a piece for him and placing it with the rest of the food.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Sonny said, grabbing the plate from the counter.

“Anytime.”

You returned to the living room, tuning the radio to the station that was broadcasting Lights Out, a late night horror show that always sucked you in no matter how hard you tried to remind yourself it was only a radio story. At least it’d get your mind off of Sonny, out of the gutter–or into a different one at least. You sat on the couch, fidgeting with your hands as you let yourself get lost in the host’s voice as he told the latest tale of terror.

You nearly screamed when Sonny appeared in the living room with his plate of food and asked, “You listen to this garbage?”

“It usually scares me into staying awake.”

He snickered to himself, taking the spot on the couch next to you. “For what?”

“My roommates and I play it in the dorm during finals to keep us up when coffee doesn’t cut it.”

“How’s college goin’ anyway? Straight As, right?”

“I made the dean’s list last semester.”

He shook his head. “Smart and beautiful, whatever lucky guy ends up with you is gonna have his hands full.” He glanced at your chest, his eyes lingering on your breasts for a moment before going back to his food. “Your cooking might be a little better than San’s. Don’t tell her I said that.”

You smiled, keening at his compliment. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

“You didn’t have to stay up for me, you know.”

“I know, but I wanted to.”

“Why’s that?”

You faltered. “I just wanted to see you.”

He smiled, amused by your answer. “You’re sweet. Gonna give me a toothache if you keep that up.”

“Is that so bad?”

Sonny shook his head as he set his plate down on the coffee table. “‘Course not.” He got up to turn the radio off, the sound of his voice engulfing you in a warm haze, “Don’t get a chance to be alone with you enough.” He placed his hand on your knee when he sat back down, rubbing his thumb against your stocking-clad leg, the feeling frustratingly electric as the thin fabric was all that lay between the skin-on-skin contact you craved from him.

Your lips parted, trying to conjure up a response, but only managing a shaky breath and a weak nod of agreement.

“We don’t gotta do anything you don’t wanna do, doll,” he whispered, his voice low.

“I want you, Sonny,” you assured him.

He kissed you with a passion you swore only existed in movies, not the hesitant or sloppy handling you’d experienced from past boyfriends, but the certainty of a man who knew exactly what he wanted. Heat rushed over your skin at the confirmation that he wanted you, his hands on your body, sliding up your skirt as he grabbed your ass, pulling you closer to him so that you were practically straddling his lap. You steadied yourself on his biceps, giving them a squeeze, letting yourself feel him, acknowledge your desire for him that had been latent until then.

You moaned into his mouth, his tongue capturing the sound, claiming your expression of desire as his. And who else would it be for? You’d always found him handsome and charismatic, always were a bit too curious about what was behind each vaguely flirtatious comment or sly wink he’d send your way when no one else was looking.

“Sonny, where–where should we–”

“We can do it out here, but you gotta be quiet. You can do that for me, right?”

You nodded eagerly.

Hunger glistened in his dark eyes as he smiled wolfishly. “Attagirl.”

A whimper escaped your lips at his praise, the way he made you feel naked with just his gaze. You unbuttoned your blouse, letting it slip from your arms and tossing it aside onto the floor. Sonny pulled you onto his lap, burying his face in the crook of your neck while he kneaded your breasts through your bra. Soon, that wasn’t enough, and he pulled them from the cups, his hands on your soft skin as he squeezed. His thumbs brushed over your nipples. You gasped. You wanted his hands on you like that all the time, had imagined–secretly hoped, even–that he’d do it one day while you were in the kitchen or in the narrow hallway to the bedrooms, that he’d grope you, kiss you, do something to make you stop feeling so crazy about him. In that moment you realized getting what you wished for only made you want him more.

His lips burned deliciously against your skin, and you groaned at the gentle bites he left on your neck and shoulders. You rocked your hips against his, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants, desperate for more friction against your pussy.

“You feel that? You feel what you do to me?” he murmured against your tender skin.

“I need you,” you whined. “Please, Sonny.”

“Alright, doll. Lay back for me, alright?”

You did as he asked, shifting off of his lap to lie back on the couch. You watched intently, hungrily, as he unbuckled his belt, pulling his cock free from his pants, slowly pumping his length in his hand. You nearly choked. Sandra had made jokes about Sonny’s size before, ones that made your face heat up in embarrassment at her talking so crudely about him, but you’d always thought she was exaggerating.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, silently wondering if he could even fit inside you, an almost morbid curiosity only further fueling your desire.

A tender concern spread across his face as he searched yours for any sign of hesitation. “You sure you’re alright with this?”

You nodded. “I’ve wanted you in a bad way for so long.”

“How bad?” he asked, his voice husky and low.

Your lips nearly touched his as you whispered your answer. “Shameful.”

He kissed you again, this time with an intensity that nearly knocked the wind out of you. His fingers dug into the waistband of your panties and stockings, pulling them down so you could kick them off, ending up with one leg hanging off of the couch, exposing your wet pussy for him. You buried your fingers into his hair, the kiss desperate and wanton, your mouth open for him in a soft gasp as his pushed his tip inside you.

It wasn’t enough, the primal part of your brain screamed. You needed more. Digging your nails into his scalp, you lifted your hips, taking more of him in you.

“Don’t hold back, Sonny. I can take it,” you said.

He licked his lips, staring at you for a split second before determining you meant what you said. He filled you, your pussy clenching around his cock as he thrust into you, finding a rhythm that would’ve been painful if you weren’t already wet for him.

“Y’know, I used to get off thinkin’ about this,” he grunted, “bending you over the kitchen counter or up against the bathroom door.”

“Sonny–I–”

“You know how long I’ve wanted you? Now I’ve got my pretty college girl coming apart for me.”

“Oh my god–fuck–Sonny–” Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes struggling to stay open as his thrusts became deeper, more erratic. He was close, his cock twitching inside you, hitting that spot you’d only ever reached with your fingers before. No faking it, no having to do the heavy lifting yourself.

He had to put his hand over your mouth when it hit you, white hot pleasure bursting in your brain, pulsing through your pussy as you grabbed at him, digging your fingers into his arms to ground yourself, feeling as though you’d lose control of your body otherwise. Your moans were muffled, incoherent nonsense as he fucked you through your climax to reach his. With another hard thrust, he came inside you. Overwhelmed by the sensation, your hips bucked and your pussy clenched hard around him, milking his cock as he came.

“Look at you, takin’ it all–fuck–” Sonny hissed out through gritted teeth, trying to maintain what little self-control he had as to not make too much noise. “So fuckin’ good for me–”

You whined at that, your overstimulated, fucked-out brain going into overdrive. You wanted to be good for him. You were good for him.

You weren’t sure when it got so still, so quiet, but the only sound in the room was your and Sonny’s heavy breathing. He pulled out of you, your pussy feeling achingly empty. You looked at the ceiling, mildly aware of Sonny staring at you.

“How're you feeling? I didn’t hurt you, did I?” he asked.

“I’ll be lucky if I can walk tomorrow,” you said breathlessly. “But that was great. Really I–I don’t know what else to say.”

He caressed your cheek, bringing your attention back to him. “I’m gonna get you a towel, alright, sweetheart?”

You nodded, smiling a bit when he kissed your forehead before disappearing down the hall to the bathroom. And there were still two whole days left before Sandra got back. You smiled wider.

#sonny corleone x reader #sonny corleone #the godfather #the godfather x reader #the godfather imagine #the godfather fanfic #sonny corleone imagine #sonny corleone fanfic

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justmeinadaze · 8 months

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Take It Out On Me Part 23 (Steddie X Plus Size Reader)

A/N: I ended it with angsty fluff instead of angsty angst lol You're welcome!

Happy Halloween🎃

Warnings: Daddy Steve/ Sir Eddie and Sub Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, tearing of the clothing <3, and everything else that comes along with these three. FLUFF, they love each other, ANGST, They go to a Halloween Dance and Steve helps Masie with a pushy dude (very brief), at the end the boys talk about something they want but can't have and Y/N contemplates on what they say.

Word Count: 2671

“Your hair looks so cute like this.”, Masie smiles as she finishes the last curl.

Tonight was the Halloween dance at your college and since you were able to quit your job, you felt more energized to go out. Next weekend was the big move to the house the guys got you so you wanted everyone to really let loose and have fun. Masie suggested since you four were going together, you should all have costumes that matched.

Currently, Maze was working her magic making you look like Sandy at the end of Grease while she was dressed as Frenchie; pink wig and all.

“I think you look cute.”, you giggle. “The guys are going to flip when they see me in this leather.”

“In a good way or a bad way?”

“A good way for sure especially for Steve. I’m not sure why but he goes crazy when I where anything like this or lingerie.”

“Really, Y/N? You aren’t sure why?”, your friend teases. “Look at you, babe. You are so fucking hot.”

“Thank you.”, you beam up at her as she finishes. “Now you may have to keep me in line because if they are dressed how I think they’ll be, I can’t promise my brain won’t scramble.”

“No worries. I got you.”

After handing you your pink ladies jacket, the two of you walk out into the living room of the apartment where the boys were waiting.

“Ladies.”, Eddie grins as your mouth salivates and your eyes glaze over.

The metalhead had his hair pulled back with a white shirt tight against his chest under his regular leather jacket. Honestly, it didn’t take much of a wardrobe change for Eddie to pull off Kenickie. His blue jeans and boots were all his just adding to your want of throwing him against the sofa and fucking him senseless.

Now Steve on the other hand, had to go shopping with his friend to get the wardrobe he needed. His hair was slicked back but dangled just so in front of his face that drove you insane. His leather pants and black shirt accentuated his muscles perfectly with the leather T-Birds jacket just adding an extra layer of sexiness.

“Ok, I see what you mean now. Come back, Sandra Dee.”, Masie scolds as she snaps her fingers in front of your face.

“You look beautiful, Maze. I like the pink hair.”

“Why thank you, Steve Harrington.”

“You to, baby girl.”

Your face turns bright red as you blush and he winks. Glancing towards Eddie, you watch as he sticks a cigarette between his lips and tilts his head to the side as he lights it with his lighter, smirking as he closes it shut. Oh, tonight was going to be harder than you thought.

***

You struggle to keep your hands off them the entire time at the dance, always caressing a leg or an arm. Eddie as always finds it fascinating as he watches and feels you struggle beside him.

“Sweetheart, you need to calm down. You’re not being subtle.”

“Not trying to be.”, you murmur as your palm glides up his thigh before he stops you.

“Obviously, but…”, he chuckles. “You have to be patient.” Ignoring him, your other hand runs along his chest but he firmly grabs it, pushing it into your lap as his intense eyes meet yours. “Behave, little girl. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, Sir.”, you whine and he grins as before kissing your forehead.

Steve hadn’t been listening, keeping a close eye on Masie as she went to grab a drink. He noticed a guy follow her and was now currently exchanging words. Without saying anything, he rose from his seat and headed her way.

“Hey baby. Everything alright? You’ve been gone awhile.”

Maze’s thankful gaze met his as she wrapped an arm around his waist and he did the same over her shoulder protectively.

“Hey, yeah. This guy was, um, asking me some questions about my classes.”

“Oh? What kind of questions? I have the same classes she does. What can I say. I’m kind of an overprotective boyfriend.”

“Um, sorry. I didn’t realize she…I can ask someone else. No big deal…”, the man mumbles before quickly scurrying away.

“Fuck me, Steven. Thank you so, so much. He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“Not a problem. Do you want to dance to sell the illusion a bit more?”

She grins as she nods and they head both head to the dance floor, slowly swaying from side to side. You take note and yank on Eddie’s hand, wrapping your arms around his neck as you two begin to dance as well.

“Can I tell you a secret, Steve Harrington?”

“Of course, Masie Collins.”

“Sometimes…I get jealous of Y/N and her relationship with you two. I don’t know how much she’s told you but I’ve never had any luck with guys. Neither has she but somehow she found you guys. I just want someone to love me the way you guys love her.”

“I can understand that. I’d be lying if I said I knew how we found each other either. I mean she was a quiet mouse remember? Yet somehow landed her cute butt in detention.”, he laughs at the memory. “If that hadn’t of happened, I’m not sure how we would have ended up together if at all.”

Steve’s eyes flick towards you, smiling when he sees you hugging yourself tightly to Eddie’s chest.

“Maze, you’ll find your person. I’ve seen how you are with Y/N and any person would be lucky to have you as their girlfriend.”

##########

As Steve drove the three of you back to the apartment, your doe eyes never left his face as you beamed in his direction.

“Can I help you, Sandra Dee?”

“No, Danny Zuko. Kenickie said I had to wait till we get home.” Eddie chuckled in the back seat as he blew smoke out the window. “Thank you…for what you did for Masie.”

Steve smiles as he reaches to hold your hand.

“Of course. She’s our friend to. I’m not going to let some asshole make her uncomfortable. You BOTH are safe with us, honey.”

Kissing the back of his hand, you wait patiently through the short drive back home. As soon as you walk through the door, however, you’re on them, jumping into Eddie’s arms as you impatiently kiss his lips.

“So fucking…needy tonight…”, he smiles through each breath.

“You just look…so good…I can’t help…it.”

Hastily, you unbuckle his belt and fall to your knees, wrapping your mouth around his cock as he groans. Ringed fingers tangle in your hair as he subtly guides your movements, holding you tightly as he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, princess, that’s it. H-Hey, Steve, how are we supposed to—shit—to get her out of these clothes? They are just hugging this sexy fucking body.”

“Hm. We can always tear them off or we could cut a hole in her pants. That’s all we really need right?” Their smiles grow when you whimper around Eddie at their words as Steve kneels to balance on his heels till he’s right next to you face. “You like that, don’t you, baby? Us using you for our pleasure?”

Drool dangles from your mouth as you pull yourself back to look at the boy beside you.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Yes, Daddy, what?”

“Mmm—Yes, Daddy, I like when you and Master use me. I like making you feel good.”, you whine.

Eddie growls as he lifts you into his arms and carries you to the bedroom, tossing you on to the mattress. With amazing strength you’ve always marveled at, he ripped open your shirt and latched his lips around one of your nipples eliciting a loud moan from you as he grinds his hips between your legs.

The bed dips beside you and Steve taps his friend’s shoulder, handing him a pair of scissors that the boy promptly takes.

“Don’t move, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want to cut anything you need.”

Gripping the fabric, he cuts small hole before tearing it open his fingers. Tossing the tool out of the way, he climbs up your body, dragging his tongue along your skin as he does.

“Jesus fucking Christ, you’re so fucking wet.”, Eddie mewls as he drags the head of his cock between your folds. “Do these costumes turn you on that much, babe?”

“W-What…What can I say. Bad boys turn me on.”, you giggle, biting your bottom lip.

“Oh yeah?”, he coos as he leans down to kiss your lips. “Because you like being used?”

You both moan loudly as he slides his length into your core.

“You’re such a bad girl, Y/N. You—fuck—you act so innocent out there but we know what you really are.”

“What am I, Sir?”

Leaning his forehead against your own, his hips slowly begin to pump into you as his cock drags against your walls.

“Ours.”, he pants. “Our dirty, naughty little angel. W-We didn’t corrupt you did we, baby?”

“No.”

Eddie delivers a particularly hard thrust that had your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“No, what?”

“Ahhh. No, Sir.”

“God, this pussy feels so fucking good.”, he grunts as his head falls between your neck and shoulder as his pace quickens.

“Harder, please.”

He doesn’t acknowledge your request but he does roll his hips roughly into yours, abusing your g-spot with his cock over and over as the coil in your belly steadily winds.

“I love you, Eddie. Please, Sir. Make me cum. I need it so bad.”

Lifting up his head, his lips connect with yours as your tongues mingle together. Your eyes lock with his as your body trembles and you cum hard around him.

“Fuck. Good girl. Good fucking girl.”, he moans as he fucks into you fast chasing his own release. Groaning, he slams into you a couple more times before you feel him fill you up with his spend. “Fuck…I love you to, Y/N. My beautiful, sexy, naughty girl.”, he pants breathlessly as he playfully spanks you making you giggle.

Turning your head, you find Steve beside you with a gorgeous smile on his face as he patiently waits for you to be ready.

“Daddy.”, you mewl as you reach out to caress his cheek. “Please.”

“Come here, pretty girl.”

Eddie falls away beside you as Steve flips you over onto your stomach and fully kicks his pants onto the floor before laying his whole weight on top of your back.

“I’m not hurting you am I?”

“No, Daddy.”

“Good.” Pushing up on one his elbows, he peels your shirt away and tosses it to the ground, placing tender kisses along your shoulder as he lines himself up with your sex. His warm breath hits your skin as he pushes his cock into heat and lays himself against you again, reaching up to thread his fingers between yours. “Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking tight. I love you so much, honey.”

“Mmm—I love you to, Steve. Fuck, you’re so deep.”

“Yeah? You like that, pretty girl? You like how deep Daddy’s fucking you?” Rolling his hips in circular motions, your eyes rolled back, practically drooling at how good he felt. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“Y-Yes…Daddy…feel—mmm—feels so good.”

Thrusting into you now at a steady pace, his head fell near your shoulder allowing you to hear his beautiful moans and grunts clearly.

“You’re ours, baby. Fuck, I can’t wait for us t-to move into this house. We’re gonna take such good care of you, honey.” Steve groans as he feels you clench around him at the notion. “Yeah? Shit, Y/N, I’m gonna cum. Cum with Daddy, baby girl.”

Tears fell from your eyes as you came and as your cunt quivered around him he thrust his release deep within you.

Steve grinned when he felt your fingers reach behind you to run through his hair before a giddy giggle escaped your lips.

“What?”

“Your hair is still so greasy. How much gel did you put in there?”

“Enough to get you going.”, he jokes as he falls to your other side.

Extending your arm, your palm gently runs along Eddie’s jaw line. “I like your hair pulled back like this though. I like being able to see your handsome face.”

Scooting closer to you, he places his hand over your own before softly running his digits along your skin.

“You really are beautiful, you know that?”, he hummed in a low, raspy voice that had you smiling. “I wish we could give you a wedding, sweetheart.”

Blinking, you pushed up on your elbows to meet his gaze, completely taken off guard.

“Where did that come from?”

“I think about it a lot especially after getting the house. Steve and I can take care of you and give you everything but the one thing I feel like you really deserve…the one thing we want to… We can’t give you.”

Glancing at Steve, his head was resting on his bicep as his free hand continued rubbing your back. As he gently smiled in your direction, you knew he felt the same.

“Baby, a piece of paper isn’t going to change how I feel about you two. You both got me this ring and the ones you wear to. I don’t need a whole ceremony to show off or anything. I just want you both.”

“Every girl deserves a white dress and bouquet.”, Steve murmurs.

“To have her dad walk her down the aisle and a badass honeymoon somewhere fun.”, Eddie adds. “Come on, princess. Let’s get you cleaned up.”

That night after they fell asleep, you laid awake thinking about what they had told you. You meant what you said about not needing a wedding or anything like that. Honestly, just the fact that they even wanted that with you at all had your heart soaring.

As you played with Eddie’s hair while his head rested on your chest, you thought about the boy you met 5 years ago. He was loud, intimidating, and slightly scary but he always had a soft heart. You watched him with the Hellfire Kids and he always seemed to care about them like siblings. That night when Tommy poured beer all over you, he didn’t think twice as he put his jacket over her shoulders and led you inside. Through the years, his eyes were always scanning you, checking, making sure you ok and happy.

“I never thought I would have a girl fall in love me…”

Glancing at Steve, he had fallen asleep on his side with his hand holding yours. He used to be so angry and those first few months you never understand why. Over the years, he had softened immensely. He still had his moments of being defensive but he would catch himself and apologize. More than anything, you realized his heart was huge and he had so much to give but was afraid of being rejected. His parents did it numerous times as well as people in the town, dismissing him as some dumb jock. Even the day you met him in detention, he told Eddie he left a note for Nancy who (lucky for you) didn’t show up. He was always so protective of you and even Eddie these past few years. More than anything, he made you feel safe and loved.

“It’s not so much what you’re doing with me but why did you even give me a chance…”

They didn’t just want a wedding for you but for themselves as well. Even as singular entities they never expected to have one, let alone a happy, healthy relationship for so long. They didn’t just want you have that experience but they wanted to experience it with you.

The next morning before they woke up, you called your best friend with an idea but you needed help expanding and initiating it.

“You called the right person, honey. Come over and we can figure some things out.”

#############

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