#it’s been almost 20 years and we haven’t let them go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hansensgirl · 2 years

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💭 — 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧

summary. — for so long, he’s wanted to hold you down and tell you that he loves you.

pairing. — Dark!Stepdad!Andy Barber x innocent!fem!reader.

warnings. — DUBCON, stepcest, large age gap (andy is 51, reader is early 20s), coercion, lying, manipulation, gaslighting, grooming, taking advantage, perversion, possessiveness, obsession, isolation, loner reader, innocence kink, corruption kink, smoking, smut, Daddy kink, fingering, mentions of oral (both receiving), overstimulation, degradation, praise, blowing smoke in face, missionary, cowgirl, mentions of male masturbation, size kink (andy’s cock is huge), pet names (little girl, little one, baby, sweetie, sweet girl), creampie kink, reader is extremely innocent, inaccurate explanations of sex, virginity loss, spanking, and more. 18+ MINORS DNI!

word count. — 9k

author’s note. — here’s the continuation of my step dad!andy concept that i posted in may. this is before, during, and after the concept. i copy and pasted some of the concept and inserted it here! everything is legal. andy married the reader’s mom when the reader was 18, and he formed feelings for the reader then. MINORS DNI! 18+ ONLY! @hansensfics

Andy sighs deeply as he sits in his room, bones aching immensely. He’s been standing by the window, behind the sheer white curtains for far too long. Fifty-one years of turmoil have caught up to him, but thankfully, it doesn’t show as much as it should.

He feels your discomfort as much as he does his stiffness. The awkward angle he’s been stuck in is a reflection of your personality. You never socialise like you should, and when you’re forced to, it’s all wrong.

Andy hates seeing you out of your element. The sight of you sitting on a white lounge chair in a dress you clearly don’t like is painful for him. He knows you prefer his company—that’s why he’s always offering it.

Today, he planned on showing you his notes from court on a case about a man assaulting his neighbour with a wrench.

It’s almost as if said wrench was thrown into his plans, because now he has to watch you try to keep up with the brain-rotting chatter of unruly college girls.

Your mother had organised the day with her fellow neighbours who incessantly brought up how lonely you are at the community barbecues. Andy remembers that day very well—he caught you crying out of frustration when you didn’t want to go.

Endlessly, he’s had to tell your mother to let up and leave you alone. Andy understands how you are all too well. Lonely, but content. You never connected with anyone growing up and stuck to your devices—books that are either overrated classics or underrated masterpieces.

It was no surprise that you were immediately drawn to the twice exiled, unlucky man. Like a moth to the flame, you looked at him with such wonder and stuck yourself to him, yet still remained far.

Your close connection was only formed when he found you in a pile of tissues and drowning in your own tears. Seconds away from hyperventilating, he pulled you back into the ocean everyone calls reality. To this day, however, he still isn’t sure why you were in such a state.

The laughter he hears is either fake or simply aggravating. He can’t find yours in that mess, though, and he tries to come up with a reason to take you away.

Andy is your stepfather—he can say anything he wants. Chores haven’t been done yet, your mom’s calling you, we have somewhere to be—I want you all to myself.

But it feels wrong—feels fake. He strives for authenticity after years of ingenuity. Before, he’d patched the cracks in the facade of his forced suburban life before anyone else could see them. Now, he embraces the breakage. In fact, there is none, because there is no farce.

From the low level of the bed, Andy unfortunately cannot see you. Even though your company is the sun, you remain in a white dress. It’s the face of ingenues all around the world. You shield yourself from the scorching sun, the brightness making your eyes ache.

The idea of making some lemonade (for you and only you) crosses your stepfather’s mind, and he decides to do it.

“Oh my gosh—So, basically, Elijah and I’s anniversary is coming up! Apparently, he wants us to go to Vegas, which I’m so down for. I’m not sure what to get him, though,” a woman in her early twenties, like you, nearly squeals. Her excitement makes you smile. “He’s not a fan of jewellery, so anything like that is out of the question…”

Her name is easy to remember, and very pretty as well. Gianna, and she’s an interior design major.

A snort is heard from the chair over—Kennedy, who finds humour in anything and is the nicest to you. “Sex, sex, sex! Dude, that’s the easiest thing ever. Just indulge in whatever fantasy he’s got. Maid, landlord, plumber—”

“—Ha! Let him do anal, GiGi. Get a sparkly plug, some decent lube, and spread those cheeks,” the other friend, Imogen, giggles. She claps at the end of her sentence, and the three women laugh for a few seconds.

“...We’ve already done anal. For his 25th…” The sheepish admission from Gianna makes her friends hoot and holler. You’re not sure what to say—you don’t understand.

“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Imogen questions in shock. “Listen, y’know that frat guy that keeps hitting on me? Well, I gave him a chance and we were, y’know, getting it on,” she eagerly spills.

“Getting it on? Just say you guys were raw-dogging and spitting in each other's mouths,” Kennedy interrupts, sipping on a fruity drink. Honestly, they’re all sweet. They keep trying to rope you into their conversations, but you’re not sure what to say, so you stick to little hums and gestures.

“Shush!—Anyway, we were fucking, and he started to talk a lot. And it was so hot, like he was saying the hottest shit ever. He checked every single kink-box!” Imogen brags, and the others are proud of her. “Like what?” Kennedy prompts, curious to the point where her eyebrows raise.

“Breeding, degrading, praising—even a Daddy thrown in every now and then,” she whisper-shouts. “And, get this, he made me squirt!”

The women continue trading stories about their debauched experiences, and you feel as if they’re speaking another language. You’re not sure what they mean or why the things happened. Questions fill your brain as you purse your lips, trying to give yourself the answers.

“—Uhm, I can take that in for you. I think I forgot to cancel this appointment and they keep you on hold for a while during the afternoon,” you lie, standing up and grabbing Gianna’s empty cup. “Oh, you’re so sweet. You’ll be back soon, right? We wanna get to know you better,” Kennedy says, and her girlfriends nod their heads.

You join them in their motions, before jogging to the sliding door and slipping past it. You place the cup in the sink, and then make a beeline for your room. It’s the space you spend too much time in, to the point that your stepdad has had to coax you out of it on numerous occasions.

The ceiling is at an angle due to the triangular roof of your home. The decorations might not match but they add a cosy feeling that is reminiscent of autumn. You wish the season could remain all year round.

There is even a window seat. Andy had it built and installed for you last year on Christmas. It was a dream come true—something you’d always wanted.

You plop yourself onto the space and pull your laptop over. You turn off SafeSearch and look up the things the women were talking about. Videos with dirty thumbnails pop up, along with articles and a warning about the setting you turned off. You’re too scared to click on the videos, so you stick to reading the articles.

But the words don’t translate well in your mind. You feel like you’re the last person in line in a long game of broken telephone. You’re left with more questions than answers, and so you snap your laptop shut.

Gnawing your lip, you let your curiosity eat away at you. It nags and it nags until you can’t take it anymore. So you wander down the hallway and stand outside the slightly ajar door to your stepdad’s room.

“D– Daddy? Are you busy?” you shyly question, standing with your hands clasped behind your back. At the sweet sound of your voice, Andy immediately rushes from his place in front of the sink. His hands smell of your lotion—a bottle he stole from you because he couldn't help it. “No, not at all, little one. What’s wrong?”

The older man opens the door even more for you, ushering you inside. You sit on the end of the bed, and he joins you. Your palms grow sweaty as nervousness takes you over. Bite the bullet, it won’t hurt you.

“Uhm…” you start, “I have some, uh, questions.”

“Hit me. I have some answers,” Andy jokes.

“Okay…” you unfold the sticky note of the things you wanted to know more about—the things your friends were talking about. “What’s a– anal? Like, the bad one,” you ask, whispering and worried.

Your innocence is like a drug that Andy has tasted for the first time and it has kicked in quickly. He swallows thickly and he wonders why you’re asking.

“Well… There’s numerous ways to have sex… With penetrative sex, you can penetrate any of your holes. And, you see, you have three holes. Your mouth, a– and your private parts. Anal sex is when someone penetrates your butt, essentially,” he explains, not sure what words to use.

He watches as your face twists in confusion. “What do you mean? They can do that to any of your holes? Like, they put something inside?” you press, voice incredulous and shocked. “Yeah, they put something in, and they move it back and forth. There are things meant to go there, though,” Andy tells you.

Clearly, you still don’t really get it. It’s neither your fault nor Andy’s.

“I– I have more.. S’that okay?” Andy immediately nods his head, looking down to try and look at your list.

“Squirting… Can you explain that one? Please? And why do people like calling other people mean things? And getting called those? I mean, I get why someone likes it when someone else says nice things—but the mean one, I don’t understand. And why do people like using the word Daddy? I thought that’s for certain people…” you ramble, pulling at the yellow paper until it slips.

“Shh… One at a time, baby. Squirting is something that happens during sex. It’s a kind of ejaculate. And with the mean names, it’s just what people like. It makes them all happy, y’know? All tingly on the inside—like when they get praised,” he says, cock fully hard and face flushed.

“Yeah, but, what’s sex? Oh! I get those tingles a lot… But not in my tummy…” you sheepishly admit, and it piques Andy’s interest. But then, he replays what you said. What’s sex? A question that normal people would laugh at—but Andy is anything but that. “...You don’t know what sex is, baby?”

You let out a whimper—something of frustration and fear and insecurity. It makes his cock throb within the confines of his pants. “...Nuh-uh,” you sigh, ready to dart and lock yourself in your room.

“Oh, that’s alright, baby. Don’t worry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay? Daddy’ll explain it all to you—I’ll be your teacher,” he smiles, but then frowns when you shake your head. “B– But I don't understand any of it! Not when you explain it, and not when I read about it. It’s all so confusing and doesn’t make one bit of sense.”

Annoyance with yourself seeps from your words, and Andy detects the leak. He’s quick to patch it up, though.

“No, baby! Daddy’s gonna teach you it in an easy way! Remember how you didn’t know what acquittal meant? And I told you the definition? Now you tell other people what it means when they don’t know!”

Andy chooses to ignore the fact that it was only your mother who didn’t know what it meant.

“But that’s different! Even if you explain it simply, my brain just won’t grasp the concept,” you try to reason, so desperate to learn about the things that other women your age are so well-versed in. “Can you show me it, Daddy? Please?”

Your stepfather nearly asks you to repeat yourself. Your request is innocent and full of desperation—you want to be in on the joke that everyone seems to know. His cock has chubbed up inside his boxers, begging for a release and even crying tears of pre-cum.

“You want Daddy to show you those dirty little things, hm? C’mere, baby. Daddy’ll tell you all about it,” Andy encourages, motioning with his hands for you to move closer to him. You scoot your body until your right leg touches his left. “You’re gonna be a good girl and do whatever I say, right?”

When you nod your head, the older man wonders if he’s won the jackpot. Luck is on his side, clearly. After years of struggle, he’s finally got a good thing. And he’s going to take full advantage of it—he’s going to cherish the treasure he’s been bestowed with.

“Good girl—” Andy cuts himself off with a groan as you preen under the praise, “—so good for Daddy.”

Your stepdad slowly leans in and presses his mouth against yours. The kiss is searing and passionate, but it soon turns rough and possessive. You try to keep up with Andy as he claims your mouth—biting, licking, and sucking at your supple, wet skin.

He tastes of beer and cigarettes, and the smacking of lips grows wetter and sloppier. You let him take control and try to replicate some of his movements as he pushes his tongue into your mouth. Andy holds the sides of your head with two large, strong hands.

But his touch is gentle and encouraging. You let the older man do whatever he wants to do, sure that you can ask him for another tutorial later on. Eventually, he pulls away with swollen, red lips and blown out eyes.

The pale blue (with a tinge of green) has disappeared. Like black paint spilled, darkness is all you can see.

“You’ve got such a cute little mouth, baby. Think I can fit my cock in there, all nice and snug,” he murmurs, more to himself than you. You’re not sure what he means, but you go along with it and nod your head. Your eagerness is almost unreal—maybe because Andy has fantasised about it for so long.

Moments with his hand wrapped around his large, leaking cock after you said or did something his perverted mind twisted and misconstrued. Showers longer than they should be, and boxers gone in the wash sooner than they would.

“But don’t worry your pretty head with that just yet, little one,” Andy tells you, standing up and in front of you. He gently pushes you back on the bed, and you land with a small thump. Be brings your feet to rest against the edge of the mattress, caressing your skin with his rough, warm hands. “So soft…”

The lawyer brings your left leg up, and meets it halfway. He presses open-mouthed kisses on your moisturised skin, taking in your scent. Eventually the romantic feeling turns ticklish, and you giggle and try to writhe out of Andy’s grip.

Though, there’s a warm feeling that blooms in your cunt. You folds ache, but you’re not sure why. It’s like the tingles you seem to get every now and then, especially when you’re around the older man.

“Daddy… I feel funny,” you tell him, and Andy halts his movements.

“What do you mean, little girl? C’mon, tell Daddy,” he urges, genuinely curious. Is it fear? Excitement? Or something more physical?

“Tingly… And warm… And it kinda hurts—but not in a painful way…” you try to explain.

“Where, baby? Show me where,” your stepfather demands. His eyebrows are mildly knitted in a bit of concern—curiosity. “D– Down there,” you whisper, looking away from his intense gaze.

A broad hand that belongs to Andy makes a bold move. It moves to your mound, and pushes at your pussy. “Here, baby?” he nearly growls, feeling your warmth and folds through the two layers of fabric that protect you from this ravenous man.

His fingers dig into your skin and find the bump of your clit, pushing on the nub and watch as you moan softly from the unfamiliar yet pleasurable sensation. “Uh-huh, right there, Daddy,” you mewl, subconsciously bucking your hips upwards.

The feeling is reminiscent of the kind you feel when you press your thighs together—just amped up by a few hundred volts. “Well, Daddy’s gonna make you feel better, okay, little one? This happens sometimes, and from now on, you gotta tell me whenever you feel those tingles. Understood?” Andy orders, and you shyly nod.

“Words. Use your words, little girl. I need to hear it.”

“Y– Yes, Daddy. I– I’ll tell you when I feel tingly—P– Promise.”

“Good girl.” Andy’s hands move to the waistband of your white skirt, and he pulls it down. Your panties go along with it, strings of wetness pulling and breaking when he gets too far. Your pussy glistens in the cracks of sunlight, his white curtains a blessing for once. “Such a gorgeous fuckin’ cunt.”

You bring your hand up to your face and shy away behind it, making Andy coo at you. He throws your bottoms behind him and pulls you a bit closer by your legs. He then looks up at you, pink tongue slowly darting out just a peek.

Three of Andy’s digits move upwards. He gives them one long, slow lick, soaking them in spit. “Gotta open your legs wide, little girl. Can you do that for me, baby?” he requests, and you immediately nod your head.

For your stepdad, you open your legs as wide as they can go without hurting. Anything he asks, you’ll do.

“Good girl,” he hums, and he brings his dominant, wet hand to your sopping cunt. Your stepdad tests the waters for a moment, swirling your slick around and caressing your swollen, achy folds. You gasp at the sensation as his large hand covers practically everything. From your clit down to your creamy fuckhole. “Feels good already, doesn’t it?”

You nod your head, and Andy smiles at you. “It’s gonna feel even better soon, little one. ‘M gonna get my cock in that little honeypot’a yours—fuck it nicely and ruin you for other men.” As he speaks, Andy maintains a trained gaze on you. “But you won’t have other men, will you?”

“You only want your stepdaddy, huh? Daddy’s girl—All mine,” Andy murmurs. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth, gently biting down. “I gotta stretch you out first,” he tells you.

Andy pushes his pointer finger in first, and groans as your walls welcome it immediately. He lets the digit slip into you entirely, until it’s buried to the hilt. “You’re doin’ so good for me, little girl,” the older man smiles at you.

Slowly, he begins to thrust in and out of your channel. His finger glistens with your creamy slick, and Andy curses. Once he believes you’ve adjusted to the first digit well enough, he pulls it out and prods two.

“How was that, baby?” he questions, but you’re too breathless and at a loss for words to say anything. You give him a simple thumbs up, hoping it’ll suffice. “Use your words, little one,” Andy urges, and you whimper out a simple ‘was g– good’ for him.

“You’re soaking, y’know that? Makin’ a mess all over my hand,” he notes aloud. “So innocent but so needy… You make such a perfect whore for Daddy.”

Andy thrusts two digits into your drooling hole, and he fingers you with that same slow pace. Every now and then, he makes scissoring motions meant to open you up even more. “Daddy… ‘s so much now. Feels even more tingly,” you tell him, looking at your stepdad for reassurance.

“That’s how it’s supposed to be, baby. Feels good, doesn’t it?” he prompts, and you hesitantly nod your head. Andy is right—it feels so good. It’s like the fluttery feeling you tend to get, the one you felt just a few moments before, but it’s not nagging and it’s better in comparison. “Yeah, that’s it. Take Daddy’s fingers, slut.”

Your stepfather knows he shouldn’t be saying these demeaning things to you—shouldn’t be ruining you—but he can’t help it.

It’s almost hypnotising with the way your cunt sucks Andy’s fingers in as he penetrates your tightness again. And the way you cling onto him as he pulls them in and out of you is downright pornographic—just like the sounds you’re making.

“Bet you never even got this far, little one. All you ever did was rub this li’l cunny on whatever you could find, hm?” He wonders out loud. “Poor pussy’s been neglected. S’okay, Daddy’s here, baby,” Andy whispers, and he picks up the pace of his hand.

He finds that rough, spongy spot inside you. It makes you toss your head back and squeeze your eyes shut, limbs trembling. “D– Daddy!” you cry out, confused yet welcoming his touches. “Shh, it’s okay, baby,” Andy soothes, stroking your sweet spot with his fingers.

Purposefully, he neglects your clit. He knows it’s pulsating—aching to be touched by your stepfather. Your volume raises just a bit, and his cock throbs with every other noise. Your pretty face has formed a frown of pleasure, and Andy thinks to himself he can really get used to this.

“W– Wait. Feels like I needa go to the bathroom…” you shamefully admit, and this time, Andy really chuckles. “You’re so cute and innocent, little one. Gonna give Daddy a cavity with how sweet you are,” he says, picking up the pace of his fingers. He makes sure to keep stretching you out, though.

“Feels like it’s burning and building, huh? That’s normal, baby. Don’t worry. Just take one more finger for me, okay?” Andy skillfully brings you closer and closer to your release. The wet, lewd sounds of your cunt grow louder. “You’re fucking soaking. S’that all for me?” your stepfather asks.

You don’t really know what he means, but you chose to nod your head. At your answer, Andy decides to push a third digit into your cunt. The fit is strugglesome—tight, warm, and snug. You can barely handle his thick fingers, pussy struggling to adjust to them at first. He can’t wait to get his cock inside you.

“H– Hurts, Daddy,” you whine, the stretch uncomfortable. Andy shushes you gently, whispering praises until the pain dulls away and all you can feel is fullness and pleasure. “You’re drippin’ everywhere, little girl. I can’t wait to get a taste of that sweet pussy,” he murmurs, and he continues to attack your g-spot.

Your cries grow louder and more high-pitched, and Andy knows you’re close. The older man grunts, “That’s it, good girl. C’mon, give Daddy your cream, baby.” Your body goes from thrashing just a tiny bit to seizing when your orgasm hits.

It takes you by storm. Your eyes squeeze shut and you sob, cunt clamping down on his hand. “Atta girl. Goin’ all dumb for Daddy—that’s what I like to see, little one.” Andy fingerfucks you through your climax, admiring the creaminess that coats his skin. He’s sure some has dripped down to your rosebud, and that makes him so hard.

“Oh– Oh my gosh,” you pant, tears stinging your eyes from the stimulation. “See what I just did, baby?” Andy questions.

“Uh-huh.” He looks at you, carefully examining the fucked-out look you have on your pretty face.

“Only Daddy gets to do that to you, little girl. No one else. Understood? You belong to me.”

Obediently, you nod your head. “Uh-huh. All yours, Daddy.”

Your words have his cock twitching underneath the confines of his pants. Andy slowly pulls his fingers out of your wet channel, consoling you when you whine from the sudden emptiness. Your fuckhole gapes just a bit, and it makes your stepdad eager to get his cock out.

“Damn right, little one,” he grunts, unbuckling his belt and pulling his thick cock out. “See this, baby? It’s Daddy’s cock, and it’s the only one you’re ever gonna go near. Y’know, your pussy was made for it,” he hums, stroking himself from the thick base to the leaky, bulbous head.

Your mouth parts in interest. Whatever he says and does soaks right into that empty mind of yours.

Andy pulls you up to the bed with his other hand, strength coming in handy. He puts your head on his pillow and then crawls between your legs, making you part them wide once again. He hovers above you, and you involuntarily clutch the blue fabric of his sweater for comfort.

The older man slaps the fat tip of his engorged dick on your clit, making you flinch from the jolt of pleasure. He then slides the head down to your slightly-stretched hole, and he begins to push in.

When your face contorts in confusion and mild discomfort, Andy is quick to tell you everything is okay. “Shh… It’s alright, baby. You’re fine,” he says, speaking gently and pressing chaste kisses to your face.

He looks down to where his fat cock pushes into your tightness, stretching you wider than ever before and claiming your fuckhole as his. The sight is mesmerising, and Andy can’t help the groan he lets out from it.

“Taking my cock like such a good little fucktoy. Fuck—you okay, little one?” your stepfather questions, and it takes you a few moments to respond to him. Slowly, you nod your head. Though the breach is unfamiliar and a lot to handle, you’re determined to be Andy’s good girl and fight through it.

There’s a pain that burns—and you bite onto his sweater to keep quiet. Andy examines your face as he continues to sheath his length inside you. “That’s my good girl. Feelin’ shy, baby?” he coos. “Aw, how cute.”

Eventually, your stepfather bottoms out with his heavy balls against your ass. He hums your name and the pet names he’s given you, waiting for you to pull your pretty face away from his chest. “Show me those doe-eyes, little one,” Andy requests. Slowly, you peek up at him.

Your eyes are big and they still hold that innocence that Andy knows he can’t rip away from you. “Good girl. How do you feel, baby?” he asks.

“Uhm—weird? Feels different… Deep, too…” you process out loud, and the older man nods with your every word.

“Yeah, I’m so deep inside you, little girl. All the way in your belly.” The thought has him growling, and he begins to shallowly fuck you. You mewl with each of his half-hearted thrusts. The pain is soon replaced with pleasure, one that you immediately grow fond of. “There we go…”

“More tingles,” you note, punctuating your sentence with a gasp as Andy’s movements grow more vigorous. “So many, Daddy.” Your stepdad nods his head and smiles at you sweetly, “That’s right, little girl. That’s what happens when Daddy stuffs his fat cock inside your babycunt.”

When he calls you those two words—little girl—your body reacts. You shy away from him whilst your pussy clenches around his dick, and he bites back a loud groan. The veins at his throat bulge, while his jaw clenches.

“I’m gonna start fucking you now, little one. You just gotta sit there and take whatever I give you,” he forewarns, and you nod your head. “Okay, Daddy.” At your words, Andy begins to pummel in and out of your pussy. Obscene noises come from where you’re connected to him—wet sounds and skin slapping against skin.

Andy looks down and watches as his cock forcefully disappears and reappears, your tightness still not used to such a large intrusion. His heavy balls smack against your ass, where your slick stains. “Drippin’ everywhere, baby. You love this—I fucking knew it,” he grunts, his pounds the perfect speed and intensity.

His cock kisses your cervix each time, making you writhe in pain. But when he rubs against your sweet spot, that discomfort leaves almost immediately. “Look, little one, your cream is all over my cock. You’re leaking down to my balls—fuck,” Andy harshly pushes forward at the realisation.

You wail from the intensity. “Yeah, you like getting fucked by a dirty old man, slut? Hm? Like getting fucked by your stepdaddy?” Andy questions, and you hesitate before nodding your head. He swears once more, and then leans down.

Though he’s repeatedly knocked the breath out of you, he now stops it from moving at all as he kisses you. At first, it’s soft and what teenage dreams are made of. But then, like the way he takes away your virginity, it grows rough and desperate. He takes the lead, shoving his tongue into your mouth and doing all kinds of things you can’t keep up with.

Andy eventually pulls away, noticing that his thrusts have dulled down. He picks his pace back up, his pelvis slamming into yours. Your cream coats his cock, leaving a stain that even reaches his patch of hair. Your lips are raw and glistening from the passionate, bruising kiss he had you locked in.

Your stepfather rams into your fuckhole without relent, forcing more of your wetness out with his shaft. His length strokes your sensitive walls with skill and aggression, abusing your cunt like he’s always wanted to.

Your chest is pressed against Andy’s, and he uses one of the hands that holds him up to pull down the top of your shirt, exposing your hardened nipples. The cold air adds to the ache of them. “Stupid little girl making the biggest fucking mess on her Daddy’s cock. Y’gonna clean it up after, baby? You better—with that cute mouth of yours.”

Nodding your head, you make the older man inhale a sharp, controlled breath. In contrast, you pant like a bitch in heat as your chest rises and falls. There’s a feeling that grows at a fast pace. It’s like when you have to go to the bathroom so badly—except this time, it’s more intoxicating than intolerable.

“D– Daddy! Feels funny—like before, but way m– more?” You’re so unsure of yourself—of your body—that it’s utterly adorable to Andy.

“That’s called an orgasm, little girl. You just sit there and beg Daddy to let you come, okay?” he requests, and you nod your head.

It feels like something that needs to desperately continue and be alleviated—but you know only Andy can do that for you, so you do whatever your stepdad says.

“P– Please let me come, Daddy! Need to come so bad… Please, please please—!” you gasp loudly, Andy’s cock driving deeper and he grinds with each pump of his cock, rubbing against your clit. “Good girl—such a good little slut for Daddy,” Andy hums, sensing you’re even closer to coming.

“Soak Daddy’s fat cock, little girl. C’mon, wanna see you make a stupid mess on this dick,” he commands, landing some slaps on your ass and the side of your left thigh. Your cunt suddenly convulses around him, clit thrumming and back arching as you come around his cock for the very first time. “Atta girl.”

He growls as your eyes roll back into your head, lids squeezing shut as your face pinches. Your mouth drops open in shock from the heat that envelops you. The grip your pussy has on Andy’s dick grows tighter, squeezing him and begging for more.

Your stepfather fucks you through your orgasm, slowing down just a bit when you begin to twitch from the pleasure. Your walls spasm until he manages to get you through the high, and then he resumes fucking you harshly. Your tits bounce with each slam of Andy’s hips, your body pushed upwards before he pulls you back onto his dick. “Ah—ah—ah,” you moan, going dumb on the older man’s cock. A mildly blank look is on your face, and you babble like a baby.

“Dumb little girl—talking about dirty things and behaving like a whore when you haven’t even had big girl sex yet,” Andy sneers, grabbing your jaw and puckering his lips up. He spits in your mouth, before telling you to swallow the wad of saliva. Like a good girl, you do exactly as he says. You even smile at him afterwards, before your face pinches again from the sensations his cock brings. “Greedy girl—that hungry pussy is just swallowin’ up Daddy’s fat cock,” he grunts, forcing his thickness in and out of you.

Your toes curl and feet point as your stepfather pushes your legs against your torso. His strong, well-built arms flex, and so does his muscled-chest. Your hands clench his sweater and subconsciously grope his pecs, and you marvel at his figure.

Because Daddy has to do everything for his helpless baby, he takes your arm and uses it to hold up your left leg, while his left hand pushes on your right. At this new angle, your stepfather’s shaft is far deeper than it was at first.

It’s almost dizzying—the way he’s practically in your tummy. And his thrusts are now stronger, too. Andy’s got you pinned to the bed as he pounds into you, determined to bring you to another orgasm before he blows his load. And even after that, he won’t stop.

“‘S so deep, Daddy! C– Can feel it in my g– guts,” you whine, and your words make Andy’s cock throb within your tight, wet walls. Your cream drips all over his cock, leaving a thick sheen and ring coating his base. Even his balls are soaked. “Uh-huh—you’re just so tiny, baby. Daddy had to force it in—but now you’re takin’ it like a champ.”

You preen under his gaze and his praise, but your tears still leak. “Aw, poor little crybaby. Daddy’s just fuckin’ you too good, huh? S’okay, I got you,” Andy whispers, wet noises filling the air along with the smell of sex. Your sweet tang is amongst the scent, and Andy knows that later on, he’ll rub your cunt raw with his beard.

“My little fuckdoll… This is Daddy’s pussy now—all mine, just like the rest of you,” he grunts, and your second release hits you all of a sudden.

You writhe away from Andy as best as you can, but it doesn’t get you anywhere. Instead, your aching nipples end up rubbing against the stitched threads on your stepfather’s sweater, adding to your pleasure.

Andy’s thick length nearly splits you open, having a bit of a harder time to move with your increased tightness. “Good girl—that’s it, go dumb on Daddy’s cock. My good little slut,” he moans, peppering kisses at your jaw and nipping at the skin every now and then.

Heat spreads inside your body as the mattress gets wetter with each drop of your arousal. “You’re makin’ a mess everywhere, baby. But it’s okay. Daddy knows that little girls like you can’t help it—you need Daddy’s help with everything.”

Mindlessly, you nod your head. You gush around Andy, coating his cock while you have him in a vice-like grip. Your swollen folds get nudged by his dick, and the sight is pornographic—something he can never forget.

“Looks like this cunt is perfect for Daddy to fuck, baby,” your stepdad tells you. “Made for me to use however I want. Gonna turn you into my little whore.”

Andy’s words make your pussy constrict even more around his dick. You practically choke him, begging for his cum without even realising it. “Daddy…” you sob, limbs trembling from the amount of euphoria his actions bring. Your stepfather’s jaw clenches at your use of the title.

“That’s right, little girl. I’m your Daddy,” he grunts, now using your fuckhole like it’s his fist. He fucks into your with vigour, determined to fill you up with his cum before he switches positions. He loves the struggle of getting his dick to fit inside your pussy. “You’re making Daddy feel so good, baby. ‘M gonna give you a nice reward for being so sweet.”

At his statement, you perk up as best as you can. Though it’s difficult to think or say anything. “R– Really, Daddy?” you question, elated at the thought of a reward. “Really, little one. You’re such a good girl for Daddy—all the time, too. Never made me have to spank that ass ‘till you’re crying.”

He mumbles the last part, but you catch a bit of his sentence. You don’t understand him though—crying? No, Daddy would never hurt you. Andy’s said so numerous times—times where you’ve cried in his arms and clung to him like a kitten.

Now, your cunt does the same. It weeps and doesn’t let go of Andy’s dick, and the mounting pleasure inside him is as desperate and needy, too. “Gonna give you a belly full of my cum, baby. I’ll fill you up until you’re leaking with my seed for days,” the older man grunts, before cursing wildly.

“Fuck—fuck—fuck.”

Suddenly, the snapping of his hips stops, and he shoves his cock forward until he can’t move any further. The harshness makes you frown, wincing at the mild pain. Then, warmth fills you up, undoubtedly claiming your walls and coating them with white stickiness.

Andy pants above you, heart clamouring in his chest as he hit his release. He grinds into your pussy to prolong it, only stopping when his hard length grows sensitive. Already, his cum leaks from the sides of his cock.

“There we go—now you’re all mine, little girl. And I know you like being Daddy’s,” he smiles at you, coming down from his high. His face has a blush to it.

Andy takes one of his hands and puts it on your tummy, rubbing your skin slightly to get you to relax. It works—but not in the way he predicted.

“A– Again, Daddy? Please?” you start to beg, taking your stepdad by surprise. “W– What do you mean, baby?” he questions, moving his hand to grip your hip. “Do it again, please. F– Feels so good, made some of the tingles go away…” you explain, tightening your channel at the thought.

“You want Daddy to stretch this pretty pussy out again?” Andy asks. It takes you a few seconds and his index finger pointing to where he is penetrating you for you to answer. “Uh-huh!” you moan out, gyrating your hips to alleviate the newer, fluttery feeling at your core.

“Alright… Wanna play a fun game, little one?”

You nod your head, eager to spend more time with your stepfather.

“Good. It’s called horsey,” Andy says, slowly pulling out of your pussy. You whine loudly at the loss, cum leaking out of you and spilling onto the bed. “Don’t worry, I’ll explain it for your little baby brain to understand.”

Your stepdad grabs your and manhandles your body, sitting against the headboard and placing you in his lap.

Your dripping pussy is against his hard cock. “All you have to do is bounce on Daddy’s cock—feel it? Yeah—and make it go really deep inside of you. Think you can do that, little girl`?” he says, rubbing his dick against your swollen, wet petals.

Above him, you shudder. The pleasure is almost too much for your little-self to handle, but you push through its intensity. “O– Of course, Daddy! ‘M your good girl—gonna do anythin’ for you,” you mumble, and Andy’s hands pull at the cloth covering your torso.

It then rips, and he removes the shreds from your body. “That’s right, baby. You’re my good girl,” he coos, reaching down to grab the thick, wet base of his hard cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes, before lifting you up a bit.

The fat, sensitive tip of your stepfather’s cock prods at your hole that’s still mildly stretched-out from his brutal fucking. Andy pushes in, pulling you down a bit so you meet him halfway. He knows it’s going to be deeper than ever—and he can’t wait to see that dumb, empty look on your face when he bottoms out.

But then he looks at your mug, and he finds himself feeling something rotten. Something terrible, sinking in his chest until his lust takes over and turns him selfish once more. No—not selfish… Just complicated.

“Daddy, feels scary,” you admit, trying to fall forward and lay against his chest. Andy tuts, holding you up and giving you one of his charming, sweet smiles. “It’s okay, I got you. Daddy’s here, little one,” he assures you, tone saccharine in a stark contrast to his dirty actions.

As you slide down his length, it becomes more difficult to take him. You try to move away from the older man—run away from his intimidating cock. “Nuh-uh. I thought you wanted to play with Daddy, baby,” Andy pouts, and your heart breaks from his sadness.

“C– Can’t take it, Daddy,” you explain to him, half of his dick inside of you. “Yes, you can, sweetheart. Let Daddy help you, it’s okay.”

Andy’s hands hold your waist, and he looks down to where he’s connected to you, and suddenly thrust upwards. You fall forward with a cry, unprepared for the new angle. He lets you seek comfort in him and his sweater once more, rubbing his hands up and down the length of your back.

“Shhh… you’re okay, it’s okay. You’re lucky Daddy pumped your pussy full of cum, baby. It would’ve hurt way more,” your stepfather tells you, waiting for your whimpers to die down. “Daddy’s dick is so deep inside you, hm?”

You nod your head slowly, gripping his sweater and pushing your face into his chest. “I know, little one. But when you start to play, it’ll be fine. Try bouncing, baby. Just move up and down.”

Once again, you nod and try to sit up. Andy’s hands move down to your waist, and you splay yours on his clothed pecs. “Up and down—c’mon, you can do it. Daddy knows you can,” he urges, and you begin to lift your body up.

You stop when you feel it’s right—when half of Andy’s thickness is left inside you. Then, you slide back down. A growl rumbles in the older man’s chest, his cock throbbing as your walls stroke him. “W– Was that good, Daddy?” you question.

“So good, baby—have you played this game before?” he playfully asks, but then that humour turns to jealousy. The thought of you riding another man’s dick has Andy fuming—possessiveness boiling hot inside him and reaching the temperature of the sun. “Nuh-uh. Only you, Daddy. Nobody else.”

Like salve on a wound, you heal that vulnerability of his with your words. “Atta girl,” he praises. “How about we add a fun little rule, sweetie?” he offers as you continue to glide up and down on his cock. You whimper with each movement, muscles burning from the strain.

“O– Okay, Daddy. W– What’s the rule?” you innocently question, looking at him with your doe eyes. “Everytime Daddy slaps your ass, you have to move quicker, okay?” your stepfather tells you, moving his palms down to the globes of your ass. He caresses the skin gently.

Before you can worry about the pain, Andy lands a sharp smack to your butt, making you yelp. You pick up the pace of your movements, still careful, however. “Such a perfect pussy, little one. So tight and warm and wet… And made for my cock,” he whispers, punctuating his sentences with spanks.

Unfortunately, Andy’s cock doesn’t kiss those spots with expert aim. And you’re too scared to take his entire length. So, your poor legs give up, and you fall forward again. You cry out from the wasted euphoria—gone is the dull fire inside you. But not entirely.

“Aw, you can't do what Daddy does, hm? Poor baby. You need me so bad,” your stepdad coos, but it’s more like he rubs your failure in. “Dumb little girl—acting like a whore even though you can’t ride Daddy’s cock. How silly of you—don’t you feel stupid?”

You let out a whine that turns into a sob, and Andy quickly shushes you. Stupid Andrew, he chides himself, hurting this sweet thing… Don’t you love her? “Baby?” he calls out, trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve crawled back into.

His cock isn’t buried to the hilt like it was before, and the ache between your legs still needs to be taken care of—Andy’ll fix that after. He wedges his hand between your face and his body, pushing you off him roughing and holding your hand in his palm. You frown and cry out from the pain, face twisted in discomfort.

“‘M sorry, little one. Daddy's sorry. Fuck—can’t help it,” he slurs, hating himself for getting so rough with you. But it’s not his fault he’s this way. You just awaken something ferocious in him—something that needs to be held down with chains and locked away in a cage for eternities.

Something so terrible yet so addictive.

“I love playing with you so much—that’s why Daddy hurts you, little one. I love you, I just get excited sometimes,” he explains, cupping your cheek and smiling at you. Eventually, you come around. “S’okay, Daddy,” you whisper, looking downwards.

“It’s my turn to play horsey now, little girl. All you have to do is sit up straight, okay? Try not to lay on Daddy.”

Andy’s heels dig into the mattress and he bends his knees just a bit, still holding onto your hips. He looks down to where he breaches your tightness, and notices the tinge of pink that mixes with his spunk—the same cum that leaves out of your fuckhole.

At that moment, he ignores it. He stores that thought for later—for when he’s lonely and desperate to feel guilt. Andy bottoms out inside you slowly, enjoying the lewd squelching sounds that come with his action. “Oh, gosh,” you murmur, eyes rolling back into your head.

The hairy base of his cock touches your core, and his balls rest against your ass. Andy’s hands move to your butt, and he spreads your cheeks apart. One of his fingers prods at your other hole. The older man has half a mind to defile your little rosebud that’s sticky with wetness and his cum.

You can feel Andy’s cock so deep inside you; it’s dizzying. The breath is nearly knocked out of you, and you feel as though you’ve bared something to your stepfather that has left you utterly vulnerable. The feeling has you distraught, but Andy told you he’d take away all your thoughts, so it’ll be okay. Right?

“You're such a good girl for me. So good. My good girl,” Andy grunts, and he’s lifting you off his cock until just the tip remains inside you. His hips then return to the depths of your wet channel. He starts to fuck up into you, and the familiar sound of skin-on-skin reverberates throughout the room. This time, it’s louder.

Andy stares at your pretty face while he fucks you into oblivion, making sure to study each aspect. From the way your eyes roll into your skull when he shoves his thickness into you to how your jaw falls slack so quickly. It’s all for him.

“Daddy—Daddy—Daddy!” you squeal, toes curling and limbs stiff yet twitching. Is it possible to be hooked on the way someone says something? You’re not a ‘someone’ though—you’re so special and so different. The answer must be yes. It must be normal, too.

Your tits bounce with each of his upward-thrusts. This new angle is unlike anything you’ve ever felt—more profound and accurate. Your stepdad fucks into you with such roughness that it’s hard to keep upright. Especially with the building sensitivity in your lower abdomen.

“Fuck, yeah. Take Daddy’s fat cock in this tiny cunt, little one. Fucking take it, slut,” Andy grunts, getting meaner by the second. It’s a helpless habit, and thank heavens that you don’t understand half of the words he’s saying.

A blank smile spreads itself on your face, but your eyes are full of hope. Hope that you’re doing good for your Daddy.

“You’re my good girl. My good girl—my dumb little girl. No thoughts in that head, hm? You just wanna please your Daddy and get fucked until you can’t think anymore,” he spits, and the word that diminishes your intelligence has your bottom lip wobbling.

You want to please your Daddy, but you must be doing something wrong, no?

“Aw, don’t cry, little one. Daddy’s being nice to you, okay? It’s good like this!” Andy quickly tells you, slowing down his thrusts. He grinds into you in the meantime, and he doesn’t miss the way your cunt is gripping him even tighter. “O– Okay, Daddy. T– Thank you?” you apprehensively say, unsure of so many things.

“Daddy’ll teach you all about it after. Okay? You’re so cute and polite, little one. You’re doing so good for me,” Andy coos, rubbing a thumb on your face. You grin at him before squeezing your eyes shut, feeling that funny sensation inside of you.

It worsens as your stepfather continues to fuck your guts, stroking your walls with his thick member. In the midst of his actions, Andy craves a cigarette. He wonders if you’d let him blow smoke in your face since you said he can do whatever he wants to you. Of course, you would—you’re such a good girl.

“Wanna make Daddy even happier, sweetie?” he wonders, stretching one of his arms to reach the bedside table. He pulls the top drawer open and blindly sifts through it. “O– Of course, daddy. Please? Wanna make you happy,” you plead, absentmindedly gyrating your hips on your stepdad’s cock.

Andy finds the lighter grouped with the pack of Parliament cigarettes. He doesn’t bother closing the drawer, but he does bring you closer and forces you to catch yourself on your hands.

Your stepfather—who had promised your mom that he kicked the habit—plucks a smoke from the box and places it between his pink lips. “Daddy? What are you doing?” you question, halting your movements. Andy smiles at you, the cigarette wobbling a bit.

“Don’t worry your little baby brain about it, sweet girl,” he simply tells you, before lighting the cigarette. He takes a drag from it and puffs the smoke back out, satiating the craving he had a few moments ago. He then places it on the ashtray as you watch the grey smog swirl in the blue of his room.

Andy pulls you towards his chest and holds you, fucking up into your cunt. His cock drives in and out of you, balls slapping against your ass and his thick thighs jiggle each time.

“Uhm… Oh–! Uh, Daddy?” you murmur, finding it harder to breathe. “Shh… Don’t worry, little one. Just soak Daddy’s fat cock,” Andy shushes, and you mewl at his filthy words.

Your cunt aches immensely, but it’s the kind that is more resounding and pleasurable than anything. Andy abuses your cream-filled fuckhole like it’s all he can do—all he knows how to do. Make you feel good—that’s it.

He’s spewing grunts and curses, and each time he utters a filthy word, you take note of how gravelly his voice is, how it rumbles in his chest and you can quite literally feel it. It’s a harsh contrast to your high-pitched wails and choked-out moans.

“Come, little one. C’mon, fuckin’ make a mess for your Daddy,” he demands once more, punctuating his words with hard thrusts.

Your body comprehends his words, and it starts to have that reaction.

The one where your back arches yet your limbs flail and your head tries to pull away from the crook of his neck. It’s almost as if you’re trying to run away from your stepdad. He won’t let you go, though—he never will. Yet it makes him so hard when you try to escape.

Your mind soars high above the cotton candy clouds of your skies. You start convulsing around Andy’s member, creaming and soaking him. Your body freezes and you let out a wail that is music to his ears. He cheers you on with small ‘yeah’s that have you giggling slightly. “Good girl.”

Your tits jiggle, and your body jerks upwards as Andy roughly fucks you through your orgasm. “D– Daddy,” you mewl, and Andy simply begins to fuck you quicker. Eventually, those sparks he brought became too much. You’re not sure what to do, though, so you simply writhe on his lap.

“‘M gonna fill you up again. Gonna pump this cunt full of cum until you’re leaking for days. Turn you into my messy little girl,” your stepfather says through grunts and growls as he sloppily uses your pussy. You nod your head and grin, wincing every now and then.

The older man’s sloppy, selfish pumps grow erratic. Andy then stills deep inside your cunt, burying himself to the hilt. A guttural moan leaves him, one that is louder than intended. He holds your body tightly, not wanting to let go of you.

His white ropes paint your inner walls until the sides of his cock are dripping, and there’s a ring at the base. Spilling inside you, Andy turns you into his cumdump once more. “Fuck,” he groans, your tight pussy tempting him to go again and again.

Maybe he will. His cock remains locked inside you, and both of your chests rise and fall with exhaustion. “Daddy…” you whimper, cunt sensitive and stretched out from his engorged dick.

“Shh… Daddy’ll take care of this greedy pussy again, little girl. Don’t you worry,” Andy tells you.

Your hands are on his body, and you brace yourself up using his waist. It’s hard to stay upright with the weakness of your body and the wobble of your arms.

Andy reaches for the ashtray and plucks the cigarette back up. He dusts the ash off, and puts it back between his lips. He inhales the smog, and then pulls the smoke away to puff out the grey fumes.

“That’s dirty, Daddy. Don’t do it, please,” you bemoan, curling in on yourself at the sight of your stepfather harming his health. “Well, I guess that makes Daddy a dirty old man, no?” he half-quips.

Your stepfather takes another drag, and then he pulls you close to his face. Andy exhales, smoke directed in your face and he catches you at the right time. You take a breath in, unexpectedly drawing in the fumes of his cigarette.

You giggle apprehensively—still worried and it’s written all over your face, even if you don’t mean it to. You’ve got that look you always have when you’re trying to fight back your sweet tears, trying not to burst into sobs. Eventually, the smoke goes away. But the revolting smell of it remains, lingering in his room.

In Andy’s mind, it only makes sense a dirty old man like him would have an equally as nasty habit.

And to balance it out, an innocent little girl like you on his cock.

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justliketoreadsowhat · 3 months

Text

Sweater Weather ✰

✩𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐫𝐛 𝐨𝐟 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐥𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 & 𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 ✩

𝐀/𝐧; 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬 & 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐨 𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐨 𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐭, 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐈 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐨𝐧’𝐭

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𝐈’𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐈 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐓“ 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐫, 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞. 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐟𝐢𝐭 𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐳𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭.

Today was one of the last college visits you had scheduled for the week, Becoming a transfer student was not something you had planned, but you no longer felt the desire you once felt as a freshman attending Ohio State University for the first time.

The dire decision was made to pick your top 5 schools and visit them, one of them being Uconn.

Traveling out of state was one obstacle, but attending a school that was strongly known for their sports was a different type of catch.

“Girl please!” your sister Breah scolded as she sat on the edge of the bed watching you go back and forth on what to wear. “Your best bet is to wear bright colors and stand out on this huge campus, do you know how many fine athletes walk around here daily?!” she spiraled, throwing herself on the bed to her detriment.

“Breah, we are not here for athletes remember? we’re here for a new environment and better educat-“

“DON’T give me that speech again, you have to realize college just isn’t about academics. Let yourself live a little at least”

You’ve heard that line at least 20 times this week, and it’s only Wednesday, yet you’d be lying to yourself if you said she was wrong.

“I am I am, I just want to get a good feel for everything before I make my decision y’know?” you said fiddling with your pedant that hung way too low on your chest for your liking.

“Oh, sis this is it! you must’ve for Paige Bueckers goes here” she stated sitting up swiftly, ready to defend her statement, she knew you’d disagree. “What more do you need from a University?”

An immediate nerve struck throughout your body listening to the words flow from her mouth at a fast pace. Your eyes couldn’t resist rolling, “You will not focus this visit all on one girl you saw on TikTok!, be so for real right now”

She busted out laughing from your reaction, almost as if she was in disbelief, “We both know she’s not just some girl y/n, she’s quite literally everywhere we look, social media, advertisements, I mean we haven’t even been on this campus for 30 minutes and I have seen her face on every poster possible!”

She wasn’t lying either, Paige’s face was plastered on every corner possible here in Connecticut. You didn’t even want to mention the TIktok epidemic that had flooded your “for you page” after liking one singular video.

“Yeah well she’s just.. a good player and-“

“She’s fine human and she just so happens to be good at many things, now let’s go tour this place, it’s going to be your new home for the next 3 years whether you like it or not” jumping from the spot she’s been sitting in for a prolonged amount of time, she grabbed your hand dragging you out the door from your shared suite. You didn’t feel the need to argue with her anymore, the feeling of nervousness began to replace the urge for another bickering episode between the two of you.

Moving the the double doors, the cool air hit your face sending goosebumps to greet your skin. “I thought it was supposed to be a little warmer down here”

“Mm.. me too but, maybe if we walk a little faster we’ll warm up, just hold tight in your cute little sweater” Breah beamed at you before continuing her tug at your hand walking toward a path with brick and a sidewalk that could barely fit two people.

“Do you even know where we’re going?, you’re just following your thoughts with no directions, can we at least ask someone where the student center is?” you pleaded, hoping her eager tangent would be put to a halt.

“No we’re fine, how hard can it be to find a brick building that literally has “student center” right in front of it. she panned shrugging her shoulders without a care in the world. There had to be at least 10 buildings that were brick and ironically, the names were not in big and bold letters.

The two of you stop dead in your tracks as you realize you’re now faced with 3 brick buildings that look nearly identical, unfortunately, there are no names, just 4 digit numbers painted and embossed on the front right above the large windows.

“How hard could it be right?” you mocked her, letting go of her hand, fishing for your phone in your back pocket in need google maps assistance.

"Well, I guess it's time to find out"

Before you could protest, her grip tightened on your hand as she led you right into the buildings, the automatic sliding doors revealed a spacious lobby, navy blue and white accent colors surrounded the walls.

The scent of warm amber and fresh linen filled the air, everything had a sense of calmness.

"You know.. you had a point about her face being everywhere" taking a couple of steps back trying to examine the huge headshot of Paige's face aligned against the wall, accompanied by the rest of her teammate’s pictures all in unison.

Your amusement quickly faded as you soon realized this was in fact, NOT where you were supposed to be.

"Breah this is not the right place!" barely reaching above a whisper, praying nobody noticed the two of you sticking out like sore thumbs.

"Well it might be.. maybe I can help, there's a map behind our pictures somewhere" an familiar voice chimed in with a soft yet high-pitched tone, causing your eyes to meet direct contact with a girl who was at least 3 times your height, big curly hair that nearly covered her eyes, vibrant brown skin that complemented her stature.

And to no surprise, she was wearing a "UCONN Women's Basketball" long-sleeve shirt with matching sweats accented in navy blue.

Great

"Um, that'd be great actually-" you paused frantically looking over all of the headshots searching for the familiar face that was standing nearly inches away from you.

"Oh! my fault, I'm Aubrey" she smiled pointing at her picture proudly.

She was stunning, her smile was perfect, your sister quickly caught onto the thought roaming through your mind.

"Oh! nice to meet you Aubrey, I'm Breah and this is my sister y/n!, we were looking for the student center, but this could work" interjecting herself with great stealth, it hardly ever fails.

You carefully watched Aubrey's body language as she shamelessly let her eyes wander between the two of you, her eyes drifting back to your sweater, you could nearly see the whirlwind behind her eyes, you could slowly feel the sensation of regret grow seemingly stronger within yourself, this was a terrible idea.

"I can walk you guys over there if you want, it's not that easy to find honestly" she shrugged, her tall frame leaned up against the wall, "but first, I think we need to take y/n to see the person who stole her fit" she smirked, motioning you to follow her lead down the long, brightly lit hallway"

"I- I'm sorry who??" you staggered trying to gain an answer from her, if she thought playing a joke on you about the sweater was going to reel you in, this was definitely the last time you'd be seeing this place.

You soon found yourself speed walking, trying to keep up with her legs was not anything you had prepared for. Glancing back to your sister behind you, she was smiling to herself admiring the entirety of the situation unfolding right before her eyes.

The three of you came to a stop mid-way through the pursuit, Aubrey opened a transparent door that led to a well-furnished living room, gray couches, maple brown tables, and of course, navy-colored carpet covered the floor.

Safe to say you were a sucker for good color coordination, that was until you saw a figure with colors that didn't match the area not one bit.

"Aye P look! I found your twin, Nikka has some competition now" Aubrey laughed gently patting your shoulder, her large hands held the weight you were not expecting, but the feeling soon subsided as your eyes met Paige’s blue irises. They were way brighter in person, but not as bright as her sweater as she was dressed in the same one you wore, a long white t-shirt flowed beneath hers that fit perfectly with her tall stature. Her cream-colored cargo pants had enough pockets for two people, yet she somehow made the outfit look so well put together.

She was gorgeous

“I mean I’d like to say I wear it better but, you look pretty good in it yourself” her eyes roaming your figure, causing heat to rise throughout your body, she knew exactly what she was doing.

Forcing a small smile to form upon your lips to prevent your knees from buckling, “Well thank you...” words were not forming in your brain “Where’d you get yours from? you asked pointing at her fit.

“I thrifted it” she said proudly, looking down as if it was her most proud possession. There’s no way a woman as wealthy as Paige willingly goes to the thrift store, or so you thought.

“Yeahh, what she won’t tell you is that I’m the one who found it for her” Aubrey chimed in shaking her head in disbelief “give credit when it’s due”

“Well you guys all have a good sense of fashion soo, why don’t you guys take pictures!” Breah examined yanking out her digital camera she had been dying to use ever since she bought it.

Paige laughed at her sudden burst of energy, but the idea riddled something in her mind. “We can go downtown and take some when the sun goes down, the scenery always looks better at night, it’ll make your colors pop”

“You mean our colors pop, you’re taking some flick’s too right?” hoped laced in your tone.

“Oh most definitely, I would never turn down the opportunity to take pictures with someone as beautiful as you"

Suddenly there was no need search any farther, you officially knew where you wanted to spend the rest of your years.

#paige bueckers #uconn wbb #uconn women’s basketball #uconn huskies #aubrey griffin #fanfic #paige x reader

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wittlesissyb4by · 5 months

Text

Alphabet Soup

She really could steep so low when she was angry. He wasn’t suggesting she was dumb. He was just saying he’s smarter than her. Logically, there’s gotta be one above the other in a relationship, doesn’t there??

Ryan always prided himself on his intelligence. Constantly correcting people’s grammar, inserting a fun fact, discussing philosophy at length, and the only reason people spaced out when he started relaying the Socratic method of question and answer was because they couldn’t possibly match his intellect. But, most importantly, he always had to let Wren know when she was wrong, he couldn’t have her going around embarrassing him with inaccuracies. Just the other day she said there’s “got to be a million mosquitos out tonight”, and obviously there couldn’t possibly be that much. As smart he was, he couldn’t understand why she would get so butthurt about him correcting her in front of all of their friends.

“You treat me like I’m stupid, Ryan! All the fucking time. I’m a doctor for crying out loud! I may not know everything, but I’m not an idiot!” She was white hot, taking sharp breaths to keep her blood from overheating. “And you know what? Not that it matters or I would ever fucking care, but do you ever think maybe, just maybe, I could know a little bit more than you about certain subjects? Like, everyone has their strengths Ryan…”

She looked at him expectantly, glaring into his soul, could he just admit he was wrong about something for once? Ryan could have kept himself from smiling–if he was just a smidge less smug. “I’m sorry, but in the years we’ve been dating, I just haven’t found something you’re smarter than me at. And if you really believe in hypnosis, you may be dumber than I thought…”

Steam erupted from Wren’s ears.

“Jesus, you are the most arrogant asshole I have ever met!”

“What??” Ryan scoffed exaggeratedly, throwing up his hands as Wren stormed off, “I’m just saying that that hypno bullshit is a bunch of crap! I don’t care how many so called ‘studies’ you try to show me! There’s no way you could possibly think that works!!”

Wren stopped in her tracks, clenching her fists. She wanted to just go into the room, slam the door, and make him sleep on the fucking couch, but she just couldn’t let him win this one. She couldn’t let him even think he had her beat, even if it was just in his own fucked up head.

Letting out a hefty sigh to maintain her composure, she pivoted on her heels. “How about this…” She said through gritted teeth, “you think you’re sooo smart? Well we’ll see. I’ll bet you that in one month, I can drop your IQ down to less than 20.”

Ryan had no choice but to absolutely guffaw at the proposition. “Are you kidding? Twenty?! Wren, my IQ is at least 140, no way you could actually lower it. Much less by that much! I mean, Twenty?! That’s like, the average IQ of a todd–”

“Do we have a deal or not?!” Wren interrupted with rolling eyes.

“Well you haven’t set the stakes, young lass.” He said with a swaggering smirk, “What do I get if I win?” Ryan replied, crossing his arms.

It was Wren’s turn to scoff. “Pshh, I really don’t care…cause you’re not going to win. Name your prize.”

“Blowjob.” Ryan said almost without a thought, he couldn’t remember the last time he’d even gotten one. He had no idea why.

“Fine.” Wren said without even blinking.

“Every day.”

“Sweetie,” she said, softening her tone as she brushed a hand to his cheek, bringing her face so close that he could feel her breath on his lips, then let out a whisper, “If you can maintain an IQ above 50, I’ll give you three of them! Every day. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

Ryan laughed, unable to find this preposterous notion any more amusing. “You’re really that confident?”

“If you agree to my methods without putting up a fuss? Yes. I absolutely am. I bet I can make you so stupid in just a month that you won’t even remember the fucking alphabet by the time I’m done with you!””

Ryan grinned from ear to ear. This was going to be the easiest bet of his life. His balls would never be full.

“You’re on.”

******

Ryan scoffed at the patronizing nature of it. Was she really going to make him use his left hand?

“You have to color while you listen to the tape.” Wren told him when she placed a crayon in his hand. She sat him down ‘criss-cross applesauce’ in front of a little table with a coloring book on it. Wren flipped it open to the first page, which had a big letter ‘A’ on it.

“Now Ry-Ry, can you tell me what letter this is?” She asked in a sardonic tone.

“It’s an A.” Ryan grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“And can you tell me what ‘A’ stands for?”

“Apple, asparagus, aardvark, apostesism…”

“Very good, Ry-Ry!!” She clapped mockingly, pulling out a large set of headphones. “Now you just sit here and color your wittle pages while you listen to this lovely music! I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours…”

“Hours??” Ryan repeated incredulously. Was she really going to make him sit and do a fucking coloring book for that long? There were much better things he could be doing with his time. But he had to play her game. A bet was a bet, and he planned to prove her wrong.

She tapped something on her phone and the music kicked on shortly after. Much to Ryan’s chagrin, it wasn’t even good mysic like Bach or Tchaikovsky or even Tame Impala, it was some nursery lullaby bullshit, but with a weird reverb effect added to it. He could also hear faint little voices in the background, but they were too drowned out by the other noises for him to discern what they were saying. He could only pick out certain words like ‘baybee’ and ‘diapers’ and ‘poo poo’s”, which made sense, because it was nursery rhymes.

He found himself zoning out, but that was just from the sheer boredom of it all. He was better than this. He’d submitted dissertations on complex epigenetic interactions of the human genome, and now he was just coloring the letter A a hundred times over.

How was she going to make hom forget the alphabet if she was ‘teaching’ them to him? Maybe she was just exaggerating, it’s literally impossible to forget something that’s been embedded in his brain since before school even started.

After what felt like an eternity, she finally came over and tapped him on the shoulder, removing the headphones. His mind was a little hazy, but again, it was probably just from the lack of any complex thought for the first time in his life. She shooed him and allowed him to resume his more age-appropriate activities.

*****

The next day went much like the first, except instead of ‘A’, he was doing the letter ‘B’.

“Boredom, beneath, balderdash.” Ryan sighed, listing off words to convey how ridiculous this whole thing was.

“And…” Wren said, placing something down on the table next to the Crayons. “ Bottle.”

Ryan chuckled heartily. It was an actual bottle. A baby bottle, with a little nipple and everything.

“You can’t be serious.”

“Do you give up?”

“No.” Ryan said quickly, “but i’m not drinking…whatever that is. Especially not out of that!”

Wren just shrugged. “You don’t have to, but it’s there if you get hungry.”

She put the headphones over his ears once more, clicked them on, and left the room.

Ryan was already over this whole thing, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of quitting. He swirled the blue crayon through the loops of the big B’s while the music played. The little voices seemed to be louder this time, but it still wasn’t worth paying attention to.

About halfway through his 4 hour session though, Ryan’s mouth felt a bit dry. Something at the back of his throat was pulsing. His cheeks felt empty. For whatever reason, he needed to have something in there.

At first he bit his nails. That was nice, for a little. But that soon turned to his finger tip, and eventually his whole thumb.

After another hour of suckling his fingers, he looked to the bottle. He was hungry, and Wren refused to give him cheerios and goldfish like she did yesterday.

He picked up the bottle, pressing the rubber nipple to his lips. Jesus that felt good! He gave a little suckle, then another, then gagged. The liquid wasn’t milk, it was…something else. It tasted awful. But he couldn’t stop drinking. The nipple felt too good in his mouth, it was worth putting up with the disgusting flavor.

He finished every last drop.

Wren had to practically pry the bottle from his hands when it was time to remove his headphones. Ryan couldn’t explain why he was so attached to it all of a sudden. Why was he getting so angry and flustered over such a silly thing?

Thankfully, Wren had an alternative ready, another ‘B’ word:

Binky.

******

Ryan sucked on it the whole night. His cheeks ached in the morning, but luckily a fresh bottle helped to ease the pain.

His brain felt fuzzy, but it was probably because he didn’t sleep that well. He was too busy worrying about the binky possibly falling out of his mouth while he slept.

The lack of sleep was also why he couldn’t think of complicated ‘C’ words. He could only come up with ‘Car’, Cat, and whatever the word is for the thing you put water and juice in.

Luckily, after his hypno session, Wren had the perfect thing to help him sleep better: a Crib.

******

Something happened that night. Maybe his bottle leaked, or maybe it was the ceiling. But when he rolled over from his cramped position in the undersized crib, the sheets were warm and wet.

Wren assured him that this happens all the time but, just in case, she had something for him to wear.

Ryan threw an absolute fit when he saw what it was. She was holding up a big giant diaper.

He tried to tell her off, but his mind was too foggy to form a coherent argument. He really wasn’t sleeping well.

Still, he tried to fight her when she took his hands and laid him down, but his arms and legs didn’t seem to want to cooperate. It felt like he was moving through molasses.

She had him on his back. He stared at the clouds on the ceiling. Were those always there? Or was that just his vision? No, they had to be new. His whole room was starting to look different. Another large cloud floated into view. But it wasn’t a cloud, it was a diaper.

His mind was back. She wanted him to wear a diaper. Absolutely not! This was perposter— prepos—perslweterous.

“D’awww!! Don’t be scared!!” Wren cooed, it sounded like angels singing. “It’s just a wittle diapurr!! You’ll get used to them!”

Ryan felt something screaming inside him. Something deep down. But then Wren said “look! It has the ABC’s printed on it!” And that made him feel better. He recognized those letters, even though he couldn’t think of much else.

But the padding felt weird when she slid it underneath him. Not bad. Just…weird. Different. Like something wasn’t right.

He started squirming on the floor, flailing as much as he could, but even in his foggy vision he could see that his arms were only making minor twitches.

So he did the only thing he knew he could do: he started crying. C-c-Crying. That starts with a C! He knew that for sure. He was so smart.

He felt the tears slide down his face, one after another. He could hear his wails, could hear how ridiculous it sounded, but he didn’t want to stop. That is, until something rubbery entered his mouth. Then he immediately stopped crying, and felt instantly better.

He suckled the binky while Wren made a cloud of powder between his legs. He watched as she pulled the diaper up and taped it on. It was hard for him to explain—especially now—but he felt this amazing sense of comfort once it was on. He really liked it. Which may be why something warm and sticky formed inside the diaper almost immediately.

He spent the rest of the day coloring in ‘D’s’ while wearing his diaper.

A few times he had to get up to use the restroom, but Wren insisted the headphones needed to stay on, even if his diaper was down. A very agitating song played the entire time he was on the toilet, and the words that the voices used were not very nice. It made him feel bad, very bad, almost guilty for doing something so silly as using the potty.

Ryan didn’t get a bottle that night, just some chicken nuggets that Wren had taken the liberty of cutting into tiny pieces for him.

When he was done, she took him by the hand to his new room. He didn’t know why, he didn’t need her help, but without her he probably would have gotten lost. Not because he was dumb, but because he just wasn’t used to sleeping in the guest room.

Wren stopped in front of his new crib, making a show of checking his diaper. Another absurd display, just because he was playing her little game and wearing this stupid garment didn’t mean he would actually use it. So when she was finally satisfied that every square centimeter was not wet or ‘messy’, he climbed into the crib.

When he laid back on the plastic mattress, he noticed there was a new mobile hanging above him. It had little geometric shapes and symbols that he didn’t feel like naming right now because he was tired, he could definitely do it if he wanted to though!

She placed his binky in his mouth and he gratefully accepted it, he was terrified of having to spend the night without something in his mouth.

Wren clicked a little button and the dangling shapes on the mobile started to spin. It was mesmerizing, even more so because it played a happy little tune from the speakers. The very same tune that played through his headphones earlier that day.

******

Ryan’s diaper was plump and swollen the next morning. His mind wasn’t as fuzzy, so he must have finally gotten a good night's sleep.

Wait, his brain said, finally catching on to what was happening. He was in a diaper, and he’d wet it. Several times by the feel of it.

Wren was smiling when she came through the door, even though Ryan was spewing vitriol. The words were coming easier to him again, but so was the gravity of his situation. Had she really been making him wear diapers and drink from bottles??

Wren continued to smile like a mother letting her little one get his tantrum out. Ryan hung over the bars of the crib, he was too scared to climb out himself, but he wasn’t scared to call Wren all sorts of names.

After almost a minute of Ryan’s blabbering, Wren had had enough. She clicked a button on her phone which made the little mobile over Ryan’s bed start whirring again. Playing that tune that Ryan was really starting to grow attached to.

Suddenly, Ryan didn’t even feel like calling Wren a bitch any more. He wasn’t even sure what that meant. Instead, he let out a hefty sigh, and brought his thumb to his mouth. He couldn’t find his pacifier.

“How’s your diaper, little one? Did somewon have an uh oh’s last night?”

Even though Ryan was calm, he still felt this combative stirring rising from his chest. Something was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to wear diapers. He knew he was too old for them. And he definitely knew he wasn’t supposed to pee in them. He shook his head ‘no’ in an exaggerated fashion.

“No? You didn’t have an accident?” Wren tisked, squeezing the saturated padding, “what is this then?”

Ryan could feel shame welling up inside him. He was a grown man and he’d pissed inside a pair of pampers. He couldn’t even remember doing it. It was all while he was asleep, while those stupid songs were playing. He would do better. This would never happen again. She might have had an upper hand on him, getting him to agree to the diapers and cutesy shit, but he was not about to—wait. Was that a bottle??

He made grabby hands at the little container of off-white liquid, practically spilling some when he snatched it away from her.

She let the bars of the crib down, allowing him to clamber out, rubber nipple not leaving his mouth. He would have walked, but he felt it was easier to scooch around on his knees.

About halfway through the liquid, Ryan felt something stirring in his tummy.

“What is it, dear?” Wren asked sweetly, placing her hands on her knees while she smiled down at him.

“I have to go potty.” Ryan said, unsure why he said it like that.

“Oh?” Wren asked, looking overly surprised, “is it #1 or #2?”

Ryan couldn’t understand why she was talking about numbers right now. Wren giggled at what must have been a perplexed look.

“Do you have to go pee pee or poo poo?” She clarified.

“Poo poo.” Ryan said, feeling his face flush. Something told him this was a weird conversation with a little too much information, but he brushed that away.

“D’aww! You need to make poopies?!” Wren exclaimed exaggeratedly, “well you don’t wanna have to go all the way to the bathroom do you? It’s a pretty long way…”

She was right. It was a long way, and his legs did feel tired…

“Hmmm…mayybee…” she said, deep in thought, tapping her chin, “maybe you could just use your diaper?”

The very thought was revolting. She wanted him to make a stinky poo’s all over himself? “Na uh! No way!”

She dangled the binky in front of his face, “I'll give you a little present if you make a present for Mommy!”

Ryan immediately agreed, and he got to suck on his binky the entire time he was crouching down, pushing a warm load of mush into his pampers.

Wren was so proud of him. She clapped and cheered and giggled uncontrollably, even while she pinched her nose and teased him about the smell.

But with the warmth came a deep sense of displeasure. Disgust. A part of Ryan’s brain was ridiculing him for what he just did. The words were coming back to him now.

“You’re doing something to me!” Ryan shouted. He knew it was wrong. Something was happening to him, he couldn’t figure out what, but he knew that the normal him wouldn’t like it! “Stop all this right now! Whatever it is you’re doing isn’t fair! You’ve got me shitting myself! I’m not doing this anymore! I’m not gonna—“

“Shhh…” Wren smiled, placing a hand to his droopy diaper. “Don’t be sad!” She whispered softly. Her voice was like honey, l angelic, the greatest sound in the whole world. “I’m your Mommy, remember? I’m right here.”

Ryan could feel his anger and shame evaporating from his body.

“Do you want me to stop all of this?” She asked, rubbing her palm against the bulge of his diaper. “Do you want me to take your binky away?”

Ryan’s eyes immediately went wide. Why would she even say such a thing? Why would she need to take his binky??

“Nooo you don’t want that do you?”

Ryan heard himself whimpering, felt his head shaking.

“And what about your diapers? Do you not like your diapers?”

No. He didn’t like them at all. They were sweaty and itchy, but they were also sooo soft…

“Do you think you should stop wearing them?”

His head moved up and down.

“But what if you have another accident? What if you wet the bed again? That would be really embarrassing, wouldn’t it?”

It would. She was right. It would be embarrassing.

“But if you wear a diaper you don’t have to worry about that do you? All your messes go in there! You don’t even have to walk all the way to the potty! You can use them any time, anywhere!”

She was making such good points. She always made good points. She really was so smart.

Still, some weird logical part of his brain was firing again.

“But I’m a big boy!” Ryan whined around his binky.

“Oh?” Wren asked, shaken. “Do…big boys have accidents?”

Another great point.

“And big boys surely wouldn’t use diapers, even on purpose!” Wren said, turning into a very scary tone. “But what did you just do, Ry-Ry?”

Ryan’s face flushed. “I pooped them.”

“You did what?”

“I made poo-poo’s…” he could feel the tears welling up again. He wasn’t even sure why. All of this was so confusing.

“Awww! Don’t be sad!” Wren cooed, switching to that heavenly tone once more, “good baybees use their diapurrs all the time! Like you just did!!”

Ryan smiled, a flood of warmth seeped through his chest, and maybe also into his diaper as well.

“And baybees that are good get to make a different type of mess, too!”

Ryan wasn’t sure what that meant, but Wren started rubbing the front of his diaper, squeezing it, massaging it, and that felt really good.

“Tell me you’re a good baybee!” She said, rubbing faster.

“I’m a good baybee!” Ryan squeaked.

“Tell me what you did in your diaper.”

“I made pee pee’s and poo poo’s”

“Do you like making messies in your diapurrs?”

“Yes”

“Yes Mommy.” She corrected.

“Yes Mommy!”

“Which do you like to use better? The pampers? Or the potty?”

“The potty.”

She stopped rubbing.

Panic coursed through Ryan’s veins. He was so close!

“Pampers!!” He corrected, “I prefer peeing and pooping pampers!!”

The rubbing started again.

“Every time you poop your pampers, Mommy will give you a reward!” She said.

Ryan nodded, moaning and groaning while Wren rubbed his defiled diaper. It felt so wrong, so disgusting, but he couldn’t stop her. He couldn’t tell her no, because it also felt so good!

It felt even better when he started spasming, and another warm load leaked into the padding.

Wren patted his padded butt. “Such a good baybee!”

Even with her kind words, a huge rush of shame hit Ryan in the face. His horniness was gone, the haze was lifting, his complex thoughts were coming back, and so was his attention to this disgusting diaper!

“Wren what the fuck are you doing to—“

But he couldn’t hear himself say the rest, because the headphones were back on his ears, and that lovely tune was playing again. His mind melted away, but before it did he could see her place the book in front of him again, a giant letter ‘E’ emblazoned across the page.

“You just stay right here and finish your coloring” Wren said, even though he probably couldn’t hear her. He was laying down flat on his tummy, swishing back and forth in his pissy, poopy pamper, smiling and humming the little tune to himself. “I’ll be back in a few hours to change your diaper.” She continued, patting him on the bottom, “Then we’re going to learn a new ‘E’ word: Enema!”

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

21 Letters to go! What else could be in store for little Ry-Ry? This is one of my favorite stories I've ever done, so if you would like to read the rest, head on over to SubStar! It's available for all tiers! Credit goes to @dj-kinkster for his help and ideas on making this story a reality!

#alphabet soup #hypnosis

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forever-rogue · 2 years

Note

Hi, how are you?

What about something with Joel being reunited with reader, they find out they're alive those 20 years after (they had been hanging out for a while and were so in love with each other, but then the outbreak happened)

Thank you so much ❤️ your writing is amazing!!

AN | You ordered some fluffy fluff? Well, here it is! Enjoy ❤️

Pairing | Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Mild spoilers for TLOU 2 (if you squint)

Word Count | 3.7k

Masterlist | Joel, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Do you ever wonder if we’ll find love again?”

“What?” you snorted in amusement as you lifted your head to look at the girl lying next to you. She turned to you with a sheepish girl, biting her lip as she shrugged at you, “I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

“You’ve never thought about falling in love again?” a dreamy sigh escaped her lips, but she kept her gaze turned up towards the night sky. The two of you were lying on the roof of her building, studying the stars.

“I don’t know,” you admitted in earnest, reaching for her arm and giving it a gentle squeeze, “for a long time we weren’t really at liberty to think about that kind of stuff. And I guess I got so used to not having…someone that I never really thought about it anymore.”

“So you haven’t had-”

“I didn’t say that,” you rolled onto your stomach and perched your chin in your hand as you studied her, “there’s a difference between sex and love, and sometimes we all need some release.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she giggled, covering her warm face as you shrugged, “I don’t know…I just think I like the idea that someday I could fall in love again.”

“And you will,” you promised sweetly, brushing a few locks of hair out of her face, “you’re amazing, Allie. Someone is going to be very lucky to love you and be loved by you.”

“You’re right,” she grinned coquettishly, “I am pretty fucking amazing.”

“Duh.”

“You’ll find someone too,” she insisted and you tried to play her off, “if you want to.”

“I don’t know if I’d even want to,” you confessed softly, turning your face away so she couldn’t see the tears welling up in your eyes. You’d thought you’d had it all, and that you’d met the one. Once upon a time, you’d thought he was going to be your future - now you didn’t even know if he was alive, “I don’t…I’ll be okay if it never happens.”

“Everyone deserves love,” she insisted and while you weren’t so sure, you couldn’t deny that her enthusiasm was infectious, “what was his name?”

“Joel,” you whispered softly, the name feeling almost off and foreign on your lips, “his name was Joel.”

“What was he like?” Allie was under the firm belief that talking about things, even if they were painful, was the best therapy of all. You inhaled deeply before slowly exhaling, overwhelmed by a mixture of emotions all at once.

“He was….he was a lot of things,” you closed your eyes as you tried to keep the pain at bay and turn it into happy memories, “he was a stubborn man, but he was also so wonderful. He was so kind, smart, and resourceful. He was so deadpan and his humor was dry but he was just so funny. He’d do anything for the people he loved. He…was a carpenter, and worked with his brother. He had a daughter named Sarah - I loved her so much. All of them. Things were so easy with them, with him, I…it seems silly in hindsight, but I really thought I’d spend the rest of my life with Joel.”

“You really loved him, huh?” she reached over and brushed away the tears that had rolled down your cheek. You sniffled before nodding, “what did he look like?”

“He was handsome,” your face flushed with warmth as you remembered the first time you’d seen him. You’d fallen for him then and there, and things had never really changed, “he had dark brown hair, it would always get all curly when he let it get a little longer. He had brown eyes, but they were so pretty, all different shades and kinda like warm honey in the light. He had a beard but there were two little patches that never seemed to grow hair. I used to joke that they were perfect spots for leaving kisses. He had lots of freckles, and he was just…lovely. Maybe I’m just biased but he was really my favorite person ever.”

“I can tell you really loved him,” you closed your eyes and let out a long sigh as you nodded, “I’m sure he loved you just as much.”

“I thought that we might even get married one day,” you admitted, something you’d never even said out loud, “but obviously…life had a different plan.”

“I don’t mean to pry and you can stop me at any time,” she leaned in, her voice sweet and gentle. You knew she meant well and that she cared; she’d already shared her entire story with you, but you’d been more reserved, “what happened?”

“The day everything went to hell,” you finished for her and she nodded gravely, “I had been out of town, visiting a friend. Can you believe it? It might have been the worst timing in the world. We lived in Austin but I was a few hours away. After I saw everything on the news, I tried calling and calling but I couldn’t get through - cell towers were jammed. I thought about driving home that night but it wasn’t safe. The highways were all packed and people were already going crazy. My idea at the time had been to wait until things calmed down and I’d drive home and be with my family. I never got the chance. Life completely fell apart.”

“Oh honey…”

“I blamed myself for a long time,” you whispered, “because of….of all the times I could have chosen to go, and I picked that week. It could have been any other week. I don’t know if they tried to find me or just find safety. I hope it was the latter. I hope they got out safely. That was the last day I ever saw them. That morning before we all left for the day work and school. It was Joel’s birthday too.”

“Oh my god.”

“Worst day of my life,” you rolled onto your back and looked at the stars again, finding some comfort in the fact that if they were still alive they were looking at the very same stars, “I just hope they’re okay. Wherever they are.”

“I’m sure they still love you too,” Allie hugged onto you and you held her back as best as you could, “you don’t ever lose that kind of love.”

“Maybe,” you were willing to dream, even if you had your doubts, “but hey, I love you too, kid.”

“Love you more.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d been unable to sleep that night, finding yourself tossing and turning, memories of what had been plaguing your mind. At some point, when the sun was already peeking over the horizon again, you crawled out of bed and pulled on a pair of boots, deciding to go for a walk. It was still quiet and peaceful, and it would give you the chance to avoid crowds of people. Not that you minded people, but right now you really were just in the mood to be alone.

You stepped in the early morning sun and stretched, relief in the popping of your joints as you started your little walk. It was quiet out here and safe - safer than anywhere else you’d been. The sounds of the early morning birds and creatures accompanied you, helping to alleviate your thoughts. You concentrated on your breathing and listening to each footfall and tuning into the world around you.

It worked to an extent and you found yourself feeling better once you decided to go back to town. The place was slowly coming to life and a smile worked its way onto your face. Maybe today you’d clean your place and do all the laundry; a fresh start and hopefully a positive mindset.

As you made your way back to your place, you found that people seemed to be twittering around excitedly. You didn’t know what was going on, but it made you happy nonetheless. Better to be happy than miserable, right?

“Hey, Bee,” Allie ran up behind you, looping her arm through yours and almost knocking you over excitedly. You laughed at her use of your nickname, which coincidentally had come from her because you were always buzzing around like a honey bee, “have you heard the news?”

“It’s barely daybreak and I’ve just come back from a walk,” you laughed and shook your head, “needless to say, no I haven’t heard the news. What could possibly be so exciting?”

“Newcomers,” she clutched onto your arm, “fresh blood.”

“Ahh, yes,” you nudged her in the side, “how could I forget that you’re the one woman welcoming committee? Or is it just the fact that you’re nosey?”

“I am not n-”

“It’s a sin to lie,” you tutted playfully, “we’re all nosey, in our own way. Are these people vetted?”

“Tommy says he knows ‘em,” she shrugged. You like Tommy…he reminded you so much of Joel and his brother, “says they’re good people. Not just some random outsiders.”

“Well,” you offered a small smile. You’d already long given up on the hope that you’d run into them again. But still, after all this time, your heart always skipped a little at the possibility, however slim, “it’s all good to have new people around. Maybe they can even help keep us all safe.”

“Maybe,” her eyes lit up with excitement, “I’m gonna go and meet them - do you want to come?”

“I’m okay,” your smile was meek as you shook your head, “I’m just gonna do some cleaning today. Maybe plant some fresh veggies since spring is coming up fast.”

“Alright,” she skipped ahead, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’ll see you later, Bee!”

“See you,” there was an affectionate smile on your face as you watched her run off. She was so kind and cheerful that you couldn’t imagine anyone not loving her. You spotted one of the local stray cats walking around and purring softly, “you want to come and help me?”

The cat paused for a moment, tail twitching before it took off.

“Me too buddy,” you walked back to your small house, unaware and unassuming of just exactly the turn your day was about to take.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was the late afternoon by the time you emerged from your house again, deciding to go off in search of some seeds to plant. Carol had some at some point, so you figured it was best to start with her. You grabbed a bag and headed off towards her house, distracted by the fat, fluffy clouds in the sky.

You definitely weren’t paying much attention as you looked up, instead of straight ahead…and promptly proceeded to walk into something. Or someone, rather. You groaned, at yourself rather than anything else as you offered your victim a sheepish expression, “oh no! I am so sorry! Totally not paying attention at all.”

“It’s okay,” that was a voice you didn’t recognize. You turned your gaze to the young woman in front of you and offered her a small smile. She was no doubt one of the newcomers, pretty and athletic looking with a kind smile, “I should have been watching where I was going too. There’s just so much to look at here.”

“You must be new,” she smiled sweetly and nodded. You held out your hand and offered her your name, “but everyone calls me Bee! If you ever need anything or have any questions, or anything at all let me know. It’s hard moving someplace new, but we’re all friendly here…except maybe Andy. He’s still friendly, just kind of old and crotchety. But we’re happy to have you here!”

“Thank you,” she seemed shy but like she’d open up and get more comfortable soon, “I’m Ellie. Crotchety and old sounds kinda like my old man.”

“You came with your dad?” you asked, just as nosey as you’d called Allie.

“It’s…complicated,” she shrugged, but her expression didn’t waiver, “he’s not my dad, but he’s my family.”

“I understand,” you promised softly, “it’s like that for a lot of us these days. Well, it’s nice to meet you, Ellie. Hope you see you around!”

“You too,” she watched you go, instantly deciding that she liked you. If everyone in Jackson was like you, they would have no time fitting in and making friends.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You were stopped a few more times on your way to Carol’s, everyone abuzz and happy today. And all it took was a couple of new faces.

“Hey Carol-”

“Have you heard the good news?” you crossed your arms over your chest and raised an eyebrow at her. The older woman offered up a shrug as if to say what can you do? You motioned for her to go on, “the two new folks we’ve got joining.”

“So I’ve heard,” you made yourself at home, as you often did, and went to help yourself to a cup of coffee, “it seems like that’s all anyone is talking about today. I met one of them - a young woman, Ellie. She seemed nice.”

“It’s not just that,” she almost dropped her voice to a whisper and you looked around as if there was someone that she was trying to avoid, “the man with her!”

“And just what about the man with her is the big deal?” Maybe there was something in the water today. You grimaced at your cup before setting it back on the counter. Just in case.

“It’s Tommy’s brother!”

“I didn’t know Tommy had a brother,” you still weren’t following, “is he like a long lost brother?”

“They haven’t seen each other in a few years,” she explained, “but apparently he used to be in good with the Fireflys. Just like Tommy before he and Maria left. Anyway, they’ve always been close, but it’s…it’s nice to see him so happy.”

Your heart skipped a few beats as it seemed to rattle around your chest. Surely, this was all some sort of weird coincidence or something. Similar situations….that was all. Besides, Tommy was a common name and lots of people had brothers. But you just…couldn’t hold back your curiosity, “what’s his name? Tommy’s brother?”

“I’m afraid I don’t sweetheart know,” she gave your shoulder a squeeze as you tried to hide the disappointed look on your face, “I’m sure you can catch the two of them. They’re going around so Tommy can show him everything.”

“Thanks,” you were heading towards the door without a second thought.

“Wait - what did you need?” she pointed to your bag as you shook your head.

“It’s nothing that can’t wait,” you grinned, “I’ll be back later. But right now I-I have to go.”

You almost ran out of her house, leaving her staring after you with a confused expression. You looked around for the man in question, but didn’t see him anywhere nearby. You huffed lightly and went up to the first person you saw, a young man who you were pretty sure was named Ryan, “hey - have you seen Tommy?”

“Somewhere along the outskirts near the west perimeter,” he pointed over his shoulder, and you were already pushing past him with so much as a glance back. You walked as quickly as you could towards the edge of town, eventually resorting to a slow run when you grew impatient.

Luckily, you quickly spotted two figures at the edge and your heart almost burst out of your chest with nervous anticipation and excitement, “Tommy!”

He turned around at the sound of your approaching footsteps, an easy smile on his face when he realized it was you, “Bee!”

“I heard,” you took a moment to catch your breath, clutching at the stitch in your side as your eyes were practically glue to the other man’s frame, “I heard-”

“I’m sure you did,” he laughed, an easy sound that you liked, “word travels fast around here. Bee, this is brother - Joel.”

No, no, no. Even now you were convinced that it was all some sort of cosmic coincidence. The man in question slowly turned around to take a look at you. As soon as you were able to get a good look at him, your heart felt like it was about to burst out of your chest. There was no way, right? Right?

The man in front of you was older, with peppered gray hair, more line in his face, and a hardened look about him. But there was no mistaking it - him. This was him…after all these years he was standing right in front of you. His expression shifted through a slew of different emotions as he studied you, trying to process the same thing you were internally freaking out about.

“Joel?” his name fell from your lips so softly that it almost wasn’t audible. When he didn’t say anything at first, you wondered if he didn’t remember you for some reason or something.

But then you heard it - the soft whisper of your name. You were somewhere between tears and shock and laughter and all you managed to do was give him a teary nod. And then it happened so fast - you’d both stepped forward and he quickly wrapped you in his arms, crushing you to his chest, as he held onto you tightly.

You were definitely crying by this moment, burying your face into his chest, afraid that if you loosened your grip you’d lose him all over again. You heard him sniffle as well, and he pressed soft kisses to the side of your head, his heart beating wildly.

It seemed like the two of you head onto each for an eternity before slowly pulling apart, studying each other in awe. You cradled his face gently in your hands as you looked him over, admiring how he’d aged over the years despite the world weary look on his face. You brushed your thumb over the apple of his cheek, wiping away the tears that had pearled up and ran down his cheeks. You really hoped this wasn’t some sort of dream because waking up from it would be a nightmare.

“You look - “

“Old,” he finished for you in true Joel fashion. You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped your lips; the sound had become a memory over the years but it all came flooding back to him and went straight to his heart. The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly at your response.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” you insisted softly, “I was going to say you look good. You know, despite everything,”

“You look as beautiful as I remember,” he put his hand under your chin and turned your face up to his. This time it was tears running down your cheeks, “are you actually real or have I died and gone to heaven?”

“I’m here,” you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and giving it a gentle squeeze, “I just can’t believe you are. After all this time…”

“I never thought I’d see you again,” he confessed, harsh and broken. He paused for a moment before turning to his brother, “how come you never told me she was here?”

“I didn’t realize…it was her,” he admitted sheepishly. You hadn’t realized it was him either. Back before the world fell apart you’d only met Tommy a few times and he had changed a lot, “I feel so stupid now. And everyone just called you Bee, and I never thought…”

“I didn’t realize either,” you choked out a laugh in between your tears, “but it doesn’t matter - you’re here now. And I….fuck. I’ve missed you so much…every day. I had no clue if you were alright, but there was always a small bit of me that never gave up hope.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m glad you found each other,” Tommy offered the two of you a small wave before turning to go back and give you some privacy.

“We looked for you,” he promised as if you needed some sort of reassurance, “for so long. But-”

“Hey,” you gently trailed your fingers along his jaw, “the world was falling apart. We were all lost. None of that matters anymore. This is all that matters.”

The two of you studied each other, long and hard, before he held your face in his hands and pressed his lips to yours, capturing them in a soft, but fervent kiss. It had been a long time since you’d been kissed and they’d been nothing compared to this. Once you were reacquainted with the touch and taste of him, you let him kiss you until you were breathless and dizzy. It felt like no time at all had passed.

When he pulled back, a look of concern crossed his features, “I-I’m sorry. I should have asked. I don’t even know if…there’s someone else.”

“There’s no one else,” you were quick to reassure him and he visibly relaxed, “there’s never been anyone else. Only a few…well you know.”

“I know,” he nodded in agreement, his hand gently tasting against your neck, “I imagined this moment so many times. But it still didn't live up to the real thing.”

“Me too,” you hummed in agreement before pulling him in for another hug, “I can’t believe you’re here. There’s just…so much to talk about.”

“Yes,” he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “but right now, I just want to enjoy this moment - enjoy you.”

“I agree,” you leaned in and stole a few more kisses, “you’re about to be bombarded by the entire town so we’d better make the most of it. Luckily, I know a quiet spot.”

“If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you’re trying to seduce me,” there was that humor you loved so much. You playfully rolled your eyes at him.

“What if I am?” you teased, “is it working?”

“Always,” he promised softly, causing you to beam at him, “promise me one thing?”

“Anything, Joel.”

“We’ll stay together this time, no matter what.”

“I promise,” you took his hand in yours, threading your fingers together, “I promise.”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x fem!reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller one shot #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #tlou #tlou hbo

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slytherinshua · 9 months

Text

YOU WERE ALWAYS CUTE

genre. fluff. warnings. none. pairing. seunghan x fem!reader. wc. 971. a/n. seunghan baby photos are THE MOST ADORABLE THING EVER SKDJKSK I LOVE HIM

“Look at your little hoodie! You were so small!!” You gasped, an infectious smile plastered on your face as you flipped through pages of an old photo book from the mid 2000s. Seunghan’s childhood was documented in candid photos, starting from when he was a newborn to around his 8th birthday.

You were having the time of your life adoring how precious your boyfriend was as a baby. Seunghan, however, not so much. He had been hiding his face in his hands for the last 5 minutes, begging you to stop just seconds after his mother had handed you the book. He dug his head into your shoulder, getting clingier out of embarrassment. You paid no attention to him, only having eyes for the much smaller and just-as-adorable baby version of him in the photos.

“Y/n, can’t you do this later?” He whined, clinging to your shirt as if he could possibly change how you spent the next hour.

“Nope— Oh my God! You’re so cute!” You squealed this time, eager to hold the page open for Seunghan to also see the photo. The date tells you he was around 2 at the time, playing with toy dinosaurs in an adorable fuzzy onesie pyjama set. The sight was almost too precious for you to handle. Seunghan took a glance at it before hiding his face even more into your shoulder.

“Stop looking at them.” He pleaded in a weak mumble, his voice almost completely muffled by your shirt. You giggled, reaching your hand up to stroke his hair, gently leading his head to lay in your lap.

“Just 5 more minutes. They’re too cute not to!” You bargained with him, flipping to the next page with a grin. He sighed and closed his eyes, resting the back of his hand over his forehead, trying to relax while simultaneously staying tense each time he hears you react to another photo.

“Some things never change, huh?” You commented, attentively looking at the next photo— 4 year old Seunghan holding a packet of jellies in his hand, smiling happily at the camera. “You’re so precious.” You gushed, your hands combing through his hair, messing it up slightly and causing him to groan and swat your hand away.

“It’s been 5 minutes.” Seunghan said as soon as the second passed, quickly snatching the photobook out of your hand. You frowned. You would have rather spent another 20 minutes looking through them, as you knew his mother had several other photobooks of the same sort. But, your boyfriend was stubborn. You let up for now, mentally reminding yourself to look through the rest of the photos later after dinner.

Seunghan placed the book back on the shelf with the others, glaring at you once you made eye contact with him. You cracked a smile at him and opened your arms.

“You haven’t changed at all, you know?” You reminded him as he settled back on the couch.

“I have! I’m much better now.” He pouted. He let you wrap your arms around him, but he didn’t hug you back, still putting up an annoyed front. He wasn’t really that mad at you, just incredibly embarrassed. There were all kinds of photos saved in those books— and even though he knew you were the one, it didn’t cut back on the humiliation.

“I was going to see them sooner or later.” You persuaded him, kissing his cheek softly to try to cheer him up. It doesn’t quite work as well as you would hope, though it does get you a reciprocated hug back.

He was pouty for the rest of the evening, sending you glances all through dinner and post-dinner board games as his mother and older brother teased him to no end. You heard endless stories about his childhood, both funny and heartwarming. It wasn’t until you were getting ready for bed that Seunghan seemed more cheerful.

“When we visit your parents… I’ll get to look at your baby photos as well, right?” He asked while you were brushing your hair for bed. You looked up to the doorway of the guest room you’d be sleeping in, seeing Seunghan leaning against the doorframe.

You laughed, “Why? You barely let me look at yours.”

He scoffed and walked closer to you, “I let you look at it for a long time!”

“10 minutes is not a long time.” You corrected, “But, alright. I guess you can see my baby photos too. Why do you want to, though?”

“For the same reason you do, I guess. You’re just cute.” He said simply, smiling at you.

You were the one scoffing this time, turning your attention back to your hair, studiously ignoring your boyfriend as he gets even closer to you. He planted a kiss on your forehead silently before walking out of your room, mumbling a casual ‘goodnight’ and ‘sleep well’. You shook your head with a smile, fondness for him bubbling up in your stomach

At times, Seunghan was the most attractive boy you had ever seen. He had smooth pickup lines for days, and was sweet enough to melt anyone’s heart. But it was times like these that you liked a little more— when he showed his more vulnerable side. He got embarrassed and petty like any other person would, and you liked the reminder that you had that effect on him.

You were happy that Seunghan hadn’t noticed the stack of photo books sitting on the bed. Once you were sufficiently ready for sleep, you dipped under the covers and grabbed the first one you were looking at, flipping back to the pages you left off on. And a thought came into your brain as you scanned over the last photos— it wasn’t even a fair competition; Seunghan was objectively the cutest baby ever.

↳ riize taglist: @eternalgyu,, @kangtaehyunzzz,, @weird-bookworm,, @haecien,, @seolboba,, @cyberpunksunwoo,, @cosmicwintr

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harmonictechnicality · 2 years

Text

Eddie’s Memory Log Day 1:

part 2 here | part 3 here | part 4 here | part 5 here | part 6 here

(ao3 link here)

The only reason Steve volunteers to keep a journal to track Eddie Munson’s skim-milk memories, is because of the twerps.

They have school, they can’t commute to the government-protected hospital that’s all the way in the city. That, and they gave Steve this well-rehearsed, tearjerker performance about how grateful they would be.

About how grateful Eddie would be.

Pfft like shit on a stick, he’ll be grateful. The dude doesn’t even remember how old he is, how the hell is supposed to be grateful for Steve Harrington jotting down notes in binder?

But those kids have been through Spielberg-level disaster shit. Steve has too, but they’re just kids.

So he’ll do it. He’ll do it for them and only them.

Eddie knows his name today.

He’s pissy - he’s always pissy cause Eddie is battered up beyond belief. But still, he’s extra pissy today because Dustin is his favorite visitor and he hasn’t stopped by in almost a week.

Eddie knows Dustin’s name today too.

And guess who’s his least favorite visitor?

“Harrington.” Eddie grumbles, mouth full of lime jello. “Who paid you to be here today?”

Remembers Steve’s name… last name.

“No one.” Steve makes himself comfy in the vinyl armchair. “Call me crazy, but I’m not too big on taking lunch money from sophomores.”

Speaking of which…

“Do you know you know how old you are?”

Eddie crumples the plastic jello container. “You’re a patronizing sack of shit.”

Steve rolls his eyes, starts to write down:

Eddie doesn’t know his age.

“Twenty.”

Eddie does know his age (20).

“Swell.” Steve fakes his amusement. The kids are much better at cheerleading Eddie along in this process. But Steve’s poker face is nonexistent. Sarcasm and assholery occupy every seat in his brain these days.

They go through a few more questions before Eddie begins to get tired. He’s tired a lot, even though the coma knocked him out for almost four months.

Guess holding hands with Death really takes it out of a person.

Eddie doesn’t know his birthday.

But Eddie does remember it’s in the winter (has a memory of seeing leafless trees from an early childhood birthday party).

Eddie remembers his uncle’s name.

Eddie doesn’t remember which street he lives on.

Eddie has a headache (that’s not a memory thing - he’s just told Steve a thousand times now).

“I’ll let you rest.” Steve folds the binder shut, sort of desperate to do anything to get Eddie to stop whining. Seriously, he thought this guy was funnier pre-bat attack.

Eddie doesn’t remember he has a sense of humor.

“You don’t have to stay, you know.” Eddie settles into his pillows.

Steve shrugs, puts his hands behind his head. “I took the bus from Hawkins today. The next one doesn’t leave for another few hours.”

“Still… it’s a city, right? You can go explore or whatever. Be a tourist.”

Yeah Eddie’s persuasive skills aren’t completely back either, it’s all very half-assed.

“Been here before.” Steve lounges deeper into the squeaky chair material. “I’m good.”

“Probably haven’t seen everything is all I’m saying -”

“Do you want me to leave that bad?”

Steve doesn’t shout, but his tone takes up space. Makes the room feel crowded with accusations and cutthroat honesty.

Eddie stares back hard. Sometimes, he doesn’t look like Eddie Munson - he looks like this war victim with knotted-up hair and sulky brown eyes.

Like a John Doe cadaver - tagging his foot with the possibility of Eddie Munson.

Anyways, that’s how he looks right now as he stares at Steve. Barely Eddie.

“Just. I don’t know you.” That’s a shitty ass comeback for someone with a memory-tank that’s perpetually blinking with the low-engine light on.

Eddie continues with his weak argument. “Were we close enough back home that you’d stay here while I sleep?”

Eddie doesn’t remember Steve ignoring him in high school for four years.

Steve finds no reason to lie. “No. We weren’t close at all.”

“Right.” Eddie nods once. “So why do this? What are you getting out of this?”

This is a complicated situation to explain to anyone, let alone to someone with fuzzy comprehension abilities. But Steve gives it a whirl:

“Look, we have mutual friends that are… younger. Dustin’s age. And whether I like it or not, they’re like siblings to me now - I’d do anything for them. But they’re in school, they can’t be here every day like I can.”

“Why can you be here?” Eddie asks.

“I lost my job.”

Eddie attempts sympathy. “Sorry.”

Eh, Steve gives him a B-minus.

“Didn’t like it anyways.” Steve reassure him plainly. “The point, I’m doing this for them. For you too, but they’re the anchors in this.”

Eddie thinks for a moment - readjusts to laying on his side, facing Steve. “Won’t you need a new job eventually?”

“Nah. Trust Fund Baby.” Steve points both thumbs at his chest.

“Yeesh.” Eddie rolls to the other side, away from Steve. Disgusted by his comment, yet still chuckling very quietly.

Okay… Eddie does remember he has a sense of humor (just a teensy bit).

His breathing becomes long and hard - sleep heavy breathing. It doesn’t take long, sleep seems more natural to Eddie right now than being awake.

Steve watches him for a moment. There’s always the ghostly-distant fear that Eddie might stop breathing. He’s done it before - four months ago and once more while he was still at the hospital in Hawkins.

Max is still asleep. Steve hates thinking about that detail because it’s cruel. This twisted game that the universe is playing is truly unjust.

Like an Almighty Asshole rolled Eddie’s stupid dice and decided, ‘I’ll let one of your friends wake up, but he won’t remember that he battled along side you in the trenches of darkness. Take it or leave it, douchebag.’

Steve will take it.

Eddie is still sleeping when Steve decides to head out - the bus will be arriving soon and he’s gotta get a window seat. Needs control over the window cause he gets carsick way too fucking easily these days.

“Heading out?” Eddie mumbles, eyes not even open.

“Yeah - sorry.” Steve doesn’t know why he whispered that. “Didn’t think I should wake you.”

“I gotcha. I’m assuming you’ll be back tomorrow?”

Huh… Steve thinks there might be a hint of implication that Eddie wants him to come back tomorrow. Interesting.

“Your memory isn’t as shitty as you think it is.” He’s overly smug when he says it.

Eddie gives him a closed-lip smile. Only Dustin and Wayne receive those.

“Want me to pick up some food on my way in?” Steve decides to give generosity a try, since Eddie is tolerable enough to give him a smile. “Get you off of this lousy hospital meal-plan temporarily?”

The smile is gone. “Nah, you don’t have to do that.”

Right.

Eddie definitely remembers how to be Stubborn with a capital ‘S’

But Steve is a Trust Fund Baby, so he’s unfazed with difficult behaviors. He can match difficulties all damn day if he wanted to.

Which he does.

“Suit yourself, Munson.” Steve acts so uncaring. Very uppity and douchey. “I’m thinking Chinese takeout for me personally.”

“Cool.”

“Cool. See you tomorrow then.”

There’s a pause, so Steve takes that as his sign to turn the handle, get the hell out of here.

“Steve?” Eddie calls weakly just before he shuts the door behind him.

He cracks it open, peeks his face back in. “Yeah?”

Eddie sighs. “Kung Pao Chicken.”

“Excellent choice.”

Eddie gives him another closed-lip smile.

Steve grins wildly, with all of his teeth. “In fact, I think I’ll do the same.”

And as Steve claims his middle seat on the bus, he pulls the binder back out of his backpack to add one more note for the day:

Eddie remembers that he likes Kung Pao Chicken.

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #post s4 au #trying to decide if I should make this a thing or not #I’m not even sure if this is any good so please ignore if it is incoherent #my mind is being cruel today so if it’s bad pretend it never happened 🙂

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upat4amwiththemoon · 10 months

Text

The blip | 2

Summary: Broken families take time to heal.

Pairing: WandaNat x daughter!reader

Warnings: some angst, panic attack-ish

Word count: 1231

a/n: there was some wishes for a second part and I really wanted to do one, so here it is :D would recommend reading part one first

Tags: @thought-of-you-and-me @rafecameronswhore @emsmultiverse @natashamaximoff69

masterlists | guidelines

All parts: part 1, part 2, part 3

Y/N’s lip is bleeding from the excessive amount of biting it during the last hour. During that hour, she changed her outfit tens of times, debated faking sick, and a slight break down, but now she is walking down the streets of New York City, going to have lunch with her moms.

The walk is around 20 minutes from her apartment, which gives her enough time to mentally prepare herself. It’s been two weeks since everyone who were blipped came back, and it certainly hasn’t been easy. Wanda and Natasha wanted Y/N to move back in with them, but she declined, needing some space from them. However, they have been texting and calling, though it’s still uncomfortable, they were finally able to persuade Y/N to meet up with them again.

Wanda and Natasha have tried doing their best to respect Y/N’s wishes for time and space, but they miss their daughter. After all, to them it wasn’t a long wait, their daughter grew up in a blink of an eye and they want to make up for the missing time.

Slowing down her pace, Y/N checks her phone for the time, she’s 15 minutes early. She might as well go wait for them inside. She opens the diner door, looking for a secluded booth to sit in, but pauses once she notices Wanda and Natasha are already sitting at a booth.

Wanda notices her first, waving her over. Y/N wipes her hands on her pants and walks over to them, sitting opposite of her moms. “Hi.” She has a small smile on her face. “How long have you been here?”

“Hey, sweetheart,” Wanda almost grabs Y/N’s hand that’s resting on the table, but decides against it, “not long, 20 minutes, I think.” She tilts her head to the side with a small laugh.

Y/N nods, she starts playing with her rings, a lot of them are Wanda’s old ones. She doesn’t know how to talk to her moms anymore, her feelings are messed up from the five years of being alone.

“Do you still like pancakes?” Natasha holds the menu as she looks at Y/N.

She has never seen her mom so quiet, or insecure. Natasha has always been the brave one, she’d help Y/N build her confidence and make sure she knew how to stand up for herself.

“Yeah.” She clears her throat, Y/N wants to make an effort, she doesn’t want to disappoint them, or make them sad. “I don’t like blueberries anymore though.”

Natasha smiles as if that small bit of information is the most important thing she has heard, “okay, no blueberries.” When the waiter comes to ask for their orders, Natasha orders for all of them, like she used to five years ago, and Y/N lets her.

When Y/N leans her elbows to the table, still continuing to move the rings around her fingers, Wanda smiles, noticing they are hers. “How’s school?” She asks, lifting her eyes from her hands.

Y/N shrugs, she have much interest in school, “it’s fine, I guess. Fucking boring though.”

Language is the only word coming out of both Natasha and Wanda’s mouths at the sentence. The latter scrunches her nose, the fact her daughter isn’t still 14 years old still hasn’t fully settled in her mind. “Sorry.”

“No it’s- I’m sorry.” Y/N clears her throat again, it feels like something is constricting her airway. “I just haven’t had anyone comment on my language in a long time.” She lets out a short laugh, rubbing the spot between her eyes. “Have you gone back to being an Avenger?”

“No.”

“No?”

Natasha glances at Wanda, they’re having a silent conversation between each other, they weren’t going to talk about this yet, “we decided to put being an Avenger on pause, indefinitely.”

“Why? You love being an Avenger.”

Wanda has a gentle smile on her face as she finally dares to take hold of Y/N’s hand. “We love you more than anything else in the world. Being an Avenger can wait, we want to give all of our time to you.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t move her hand away, Y/N just stares at it. “What if I need a lot of time?”

“We aren’t in a hurry.”

Nodding, Y/N pulls her hand away once the waiter comes back to their table with three plates of pancakes. She starts eating the food, and she looks at her moms, realizing they look like a family, two moms and their daughter, and it scares the hell out of her.

She drops her fork, making her moms look at her, “what’s wrong, little one?” The pet name slips out of Wanda’s mouth, she swore to stop using it, it makes Y/N’s heart drop into her stomach.

“Uhm-“ Y/N draws in a quick breath, making it instantly clear to her mother’s what’s wrong. They stand up and move to Y/N’s side of the booth, Wanda squeezing herself past her so their daughter is in the middle of them.

Fortunately for them, they’re sitting in a corner booth, giving them privacy, but Natasha sets her body in a way that hides Y/N from anyone’s gaze.

“You’re safe.” Wanda whispers with a level of calmness that shows this isn’t the first time Y/N has had a panic attack. “Your moms are here to keep you safe.”

Biting her already sore lip, Y/N raises her head to look at Wanda, her eyes teary and breathing wheezy as she tries to hold in her struggling. Wanda’s soft eyes bore into her own, but she doesn’t feel the defiance or terror she felt when first seeing her moms. She feels safe. Comforted. She feels like a kid.

When a quiet, “mama,” leaves her lips, Wanda wraps her arms around her and looks at Natasha. “Let’s go.” She whispers, standing up with Y/N’s legs and arms around her.

They walk over to the red car, Wanda putting Y/N into the backseats before going to the driver’s seat, and Natasha going to sit with their daughter. As the car starts, Natasha wraps her arms around Y/N, not caring about their seatbelts in the moment.

The drive to Wanda and Natasha’s house is quiet apart from Y/N’s heavy breathing and the soft whispers coming out of Natasha’s mouth as she tries to comfort her.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N whispers as the car comes to a sop. Wanda moves from the driver’s to the backseats with her family, feeling like staying in the car will be easier for now.

They’re all smushed into a pile, “don’t apologize, you haven’t done anything wrong,” Natasha’s hand goes through Y/N’s hair, melting the at the familiar softness of it.

Her breathing slows down and she starts feeling calmer in her mothers’ arms. “Can I stay with you for a little while?”

“Little one,” the pet name doesn’t bother her anymore, “you can stay with us as long as you want.” Wanda sets her hands on Y/N’s cheeks, rubbing them with her thumbs.

Y/N nods, a small weight has been lifted off of her shoulders. She feels like she is able to lean on to her mothers again, at least with some things. She doesn’t have to be so alone anymore.

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bweeeb · 9 days

Text

BACK HOME DOLL

Y/n x Bucky Barnes

Summary: When Hydra took you both and took you separate ways during the second war, meeting again seemed like something far from happening.

Warning: bad writing. Sorry for that.

It was funny to you how much things had changed in what? A hundred years? That was what you had, wasn’t it? People had changed, the way they spoke, walked, the way they related to each other—it was all different, and you didn’t have a living soul who remembered who you were.

In 1942 was the last year you saw the people you loved, who you lived with and enjoyed the time you didn’t know was left. The following year, your boyfriend and best friend were drafted into the war, and so they were gone until five months later when you, as a nurse, were called to the central camp to support the head nurse.

Hydra picked you up in October of 1943, tortured you, and used you as a machine—a project to test their other soldiers. You were strong, had the super soldier serum in your veins, but it was different from what the Winter Soldier used. You were sensory, feeling the metal of the Winter Soldier’s arm 20 kilometers away. Your senses were heightened, not only to what you felt but to what others felt too. Your eyes were almost entirely mechanized, and your feelings ceased to be yours. The mechanics applied to you didn’t allow you to shed a single tear from your fake eyes; you heard yourself crying and screaming inside, agonized by the sight of Buck grabbing you tightly when you tried to escape once and wrapping his vibranium hand around your neck. Hydra liked you and sent you for obvious reasons—you were precise in what you did, had no fear, and no hesitation about what you really wanted. Going after Buck had been a clear demonstration and the best way for them to torture you by showing that the man you loved was not the same as before.

Over the years, you met Steve again, who pulled you from Hydra’s grasp and tried to give you as normal a life as possible. Suddenly, you were no longer a national threat or a menacing machine, just you. Over time, Steve left, everyone you briefly knew left, and you were alone, exactly as you were now and exactly how your psychologist liked to play in your sessions.

— You haven’t had a call on your cell phone. The last person who called in a whole week was me. That’s depressing, Y/N. — She said, and you sighed tiredly. You were so tired.

— What do you want me to do? Approach someone and say, “Hi stranger, I’m 100 years old but look like I’m twenty-one. Want to go out sometime?” — You rolled your eyes, and the doctor in front of you crossed her arms impatiently.

— Be more subtle than that and it will work. —

— Look, I don’t know how to do that. The last time I communicated with someone was in 1949 and with someone who actually cared about me. — Your voice softened at the mere memory of a few minutes before you were taken.

— Try harder, Y/N. You’re not trying. —

— I’m not trying. — You murmured and leaned back in the chair. — People today are... different. I... I... —

— Different how? —She asked, and you just shrugged with your head down. — Let me tell you something, Y/N. People are not different from what they were; you just think they are because you’re not making an effort to integrate into a social circle. —

The doctor said, and silence continued to loom in the room. You had nothing to say, thought too much, but that didn’t mean you wanted to explain your thoughts. — I have a patient who’s been through similar things as you, feels the same pains, Y/N. Don’t think I don’t understand because I know you both are struggling with the same invisible ghost. Tell me what you’re thinking? —

— I just don’t know how to be a woman here. We were so... different from what I see today, and I don’t know how to be like them. —

You grumbled, frustrated.

— I think you need to go out with men, with more people who would be your age and get used to it. —

— Men. —

You let out a brief laugh. — Men are different here too. They wouldn’t like me here, and I don’t know if I want them to like me. —

— You’re beautiful, Y/N. I can’t hide that fact; you’re delicate and very feminine, and that’s becoming rare to see. Men are men, my dear, don’t be afraid of them. You need to start acting like a 21st-century woman to feel like you belong here. —

— I think I can start with friends first. —

— As you wish. Just make sure you do it. —

×××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××××

It had been a week since your session with your psychologist, and even though you said you would try to make friends, you were alone, as usual.

You liked going to the open-air markets every Thursday; they had beautiful flowers for sale, fruits, and sometimes even mugs.

You were staring at the flower stall in the corner when a woman stopped next to you and set boxes on the ground.

— Let’s see. — She said, looking at the displayed flowers. — What would be the best to show that i care but not seem cheesy for giving flowers.— The woman mumbled, and you, torn between whether to answer or not, gathered your courage and turned to her.

— Gerberas are a good option. —

You almost wished you could sink into the ground when you heard the same situation. You hated feeling like an intruder in other people’s matters, and that was exactly what you were feeling now.

— Really? Which ones? —

The woman replied cheerfully, and that relieved your heart.

— These here. —

You answered with a sweet smile, handing her a bouquet of white, yellow, and pink gerberas.

— Wow, they’re beautiful. Are they hard to care for? Do you know? —

She asked, and you shook your head in a gentle motion.

— They just need water, light, and a little attention. They make rooms happy. — You shrugged with a genuine smile for having helped.

— Good. That’s exactly what he needs, so I’ll take these. Thank you... —

— Y/N. —

— Y/N, it's different, but a beautiful different. I’m Sarah. Nice to meet you. —

— Likewise. —

By the end of the afternoon, you both said goodbye, and you thought you wouldn’t see her again, which briefly made you sad because you realized you didn’t know how to get past this phase. Until suddenly, a week later, you found the woman there again, but this time with a trillion boxes stacked in her arms.

You ran up to her and asked if she needed help to unload everything behind her car, and Sarah immediately refused. You had body mass but didn’t seem strong at all beyond the way you acted. You looked too delicate to lift a box of more than three kilos of wood, fish, and stones into her old car, until you insisted and lifted two boxes at once with the greatest ease, convincing Sarah that you could handle the weight and it was even light.

In the end, the woman saw the grime on your furry leather coat and your black pleated skirt and felt bad for the dirt on your beautiful clothes, so she offered her house right there for you to at least wash your hands. After much insistence, you accepted. Honestly, it wasn’t very safe to get into someone’s car whom you barely knew, but at the moment, you had nothing more to lose other than being really annoyed by the sticky residue on your hands and nails.

— So, where are you from, Y/N? I haven’t seen you around much. — Sarah asked as she parked the car in her garage.

— Brooklyn. I’m kind of new around here.—

— New York? —

— Yeah... kind of. —

You both got out of the car, and with a smile, Sarah opened the door of the house for you.

— My brother came home with his super strong friend, so don’t worry about the boxes. Go wash your hands, girl. Your nails deserve to stay pretty. —

You thanked her softly and went to the bathroom. When you got there, you washed your hands and looked at yourself in the mirror, sighing and repeating to yourself.

— You can do this. —

It was almost impossible not to feel the anxiety radiating through your whole body with the possibility of introducing yourself to other people. What if you said something wrong, or if they just found you boring and uninteresting enough not to want you there?

You were never a very sociable person; that was Aly’s role back then. You were just the pretty friend who happened to date your best friend’s hot boyfriend’s best friend.

When you came out of the bathroom, the house was still empty and quiet, so you walked outside and found Sarah coming toward you with a smile on her face.

— Hey, I hope the boys didn’t leave a mess inside. You know, kids. —

— You have kids? That’s cool. —

— Yes, do you want to have some? —

— What? Kids? —

— Yes. Kids. You’re still young, you have time. —Sarah laughed, and you smiled awkwardly, feeling silly.

— I’d like to, but I can’t. —

— Oh, I’m sorry. Do you and your boyfriend think about adopting, or living a child-free life? —. She asked, and you pressed your lips together.

— If I had a boyfriend, maybe. I don’t know, taking care of a child seems difficult when I can barely take care of myself, you know? — You said, and Sarah laughed, nodding her head.

— I understand. It is difficult. I thought you were talking about the ring. —

— That... yeah, it’s more of an emotional accessory. And you, how old are you? —

— Ugh, at least ten years older than you. — She said, laughing, and Sarah laughed a lot with you. You laughed awkwardly behind her; it was obvious she wasn’t one hundred and ten years old.— I was rude, sorry. —

— It’s okay. I’m 31. What are you, 24? —

— I... — You were torn between saying a hundred and one and twenty-one, but someone calling Sarah’s name caught both your and her attention.

— It’s Sam, let’s go. — She said, nodding towards the direction of the voice and heading that way.

— My age is complicated, I’ll explain it better some other time. —

— Alright then. —

Sarah said, leading you to where a boat was docked with two men facing away, looking at a pipe.

— Why didn’t you use the metal arm? —

— Sometimes I forget I have it. I am right handed —

The conversation between them reached your ears, and your feet almost stopped working when you heard the voice. You might be going crazy, it could only be that.

Sarah took larger steps and caught one of the men’s attention—her brother, Sam.

— Here, take this. —

She said, handing Sam a screwdriver.

— What happened to the old one? —

— The foot here broke. —

— At least I fixed your boat for you. Hi Sara... —Buck’s words stopped when he turned to look at Sam’s sister, but his eyes fell on the person he had dreamed about every night since 1994.

You, standing next to Sarah, swallowed hard and frowned, trying to control your emotions. You couldn’t look crazy now; they wouldn’t like you. That’s what you kept repeating, but seeing the man identical to Bucky Barnes made you want to collapse on the grass you were standing on.

— I completely forgot to warn you about this, this is Buc… —

— Bucky? — Sam called out to his friend but received no answer, only a confused stare from Buck as he continued to look at you.

— Hey. Y/N? Are you okay? —

Sarah turned to you, worried by the silence between you two, and distressed, you took a step back, thinking this was just a trick of your mind.

— Are you real? — Buck’s weak voice escaped his lips, and with a subtle movement, he took a step towards the boat, awakening to come closer to you.

— Man, what kind of weird question is that? Do you know each other? — Sam asked, and once again, with no response, just a confused look from Sarah.

— You’re not real. — You whispered, feeling your eyes filling with tears as you saw Bucky approaching more closely than a mirage would. — Bucky? —

You swallowed the lump in your throat and stopped trying to back away.— Is it really you? —

— How... how is this... why. —

Bucky stammered, and you knew he wouldn’t cry, but you also knew Bucky Barnes well enough to see how his eyes screamed to shed tears.

Bucky came closer and briefly touched your soft cheek with his right hand, as if to prove to himself that you were real.

Suddenly, as if fear had been cut away, you moved toward him and wrapped your arms around the neck of the tall, much bigger man.

His arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you off the ground, pulling you closer to him.

— Are you really here? —

You asked, with warm tears streaming down your cheeks while your face was buried in Barnes’s neck.

— I’m here, doll. —

Buck squeezed you tighter, and for a moment, he was concerned and let you go.

His tears and red nose were the sight he had always cherished seeing; Bucky never let you cry, and now knowing it was his fault broke him into pieces.

— I thought you were dead. —

You sobbed, and Bucky placed both hands around your face to wipe away the tears rolling down your cheeks.

— I thought you were dead. —

Bucky pulled you close again, and this time he really did, feeling your hair, the softness of your skin, sensing you near him.

It was good to be close to you again.

××××××

In my head this had been better

#cute bucky barnes #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky angst #bucky x y/n #marvel

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w2soneshots · 5 months

Text

Brother’s best mate -W2S

words: 0.8k+

warnings: smut, swearing, alcohol consumption.

summary: you and harry meet through your brother ethan. After a night spent with the side girls you crawl into bed with your favourite guernsey boy.

notes: I haven’t written anything like this in ages!🤭 hope you enjoy🔥🫶🏼

Liked by wroetoshaw and 301,583 others

y/username: spending time with my favourite people💞 (even if it's on a golf course😒😂)

Tagged: @faithloisak @behzingagram @wroetoshaw

-comments-

faithloisak: aw I love you

-> y/username: ❤️🫶

y/nfanpage21: she's so 🌼🧺☕️🧘‍♀️🥐 coded

user19470245: omg they went to golf together😭

user83271430: the pic of ethan and faith is adorable

Last year I moved to London to be closer to Ethan when Faith fell pregnant, to help her and to spend more time with the both of them. I also bought an apartment so I'm just a 20 minute drive from them. I finally met the sidemen at the gender reveal. I'd never actually been introduced to them before, which was weird because they are basically the reason Ethan has a career and they helped him so much a few years ago when he was in a really dark place. Me and Harry didn't immediately hit it off, don't get me wrong I thought he was attractive but he's also very awkward and was wary that I'm his best mates sister.

After almost five months of being friends with the group, going to little parties or just hanging out with them me and Harry kissed. I knew it was bound to happen since we had both quickly developed a large crush on each other but after it had happened we'd decided not to tell anyone (especially Ethan) before we knew we were actually good together. It took just one month before we were officially dating and decided it was the time to tell everyone. Of course we told Ethan first, he was shocked but (to our surprise) happy that his best mate and sister were dating. Everyone else was so excited.

We've now been together for 6 months and only told the fans recently. Today I'm going to dinner with: Talia, Faith and Freya for Talia's birthday. Harry had a more sidemen shoot today so wouldn't get home until six. I had a shower, dried and styled my hair, applied some makeup then chose an outfit. I was on my way out just as Harry arrived back. "Wow," He glanced down at my outfit before returning his attention to my face "you look beautiful." I smiled "thank you Haz, I'll be home by ten." "You better be, I can't wait to rip those clothes off."

I arrived outside of the restaurant, thanked the uber driver then spotted Talia getting out of another car. I quickly walked towards her "happy birthday!" We excitedly hugged each other. "Thank you! Freya's already inside." She beamed. "Ok. I think Faith's running a little bit late, let's just go inside." I replied. We headed into the fancy restaurant and were taken to our table where Freya already sat. When she spotted us she immediately leapt from her seat. She said happy birthday to Talia then we all sat down. Faith arrived a few minutes later and we ordered our drinks.

After eating our starters, mains and desserts me Freya and Faith split the bill (not before trying to convince Talia to let us treat her for her birthday). Thankfully I had only had two drinks so I was just a little tipsy. We left then ordered a taxi. Freya was dropped off first then Talia and I was third. I said goodbye to Faith then hopped out.

y/username

Liked by miniminter and 480,231 others

y/username: my girl @taliamar 's birthday dinner with @freyanightingale and @faithloisak 🤍💫

-comments-

taliamar: I had the best night ily😘

-> y/username: ily

freyanightingale: 💓💓

y/nfanpage21: omg you look stunning!!

user91037494: I love that the side girls are actually friends irl it's so cute

When I got up to mine and Harry's apartment I unlocked the door, opened it, kicked my shoes off and dropped my bag. "Haz?!" I shouted through the apartment. I walked through into the bedroom, Harry sat waiting patiently for me "Hey." My mouth curved into a smile "hi." I jumped onto the bed next to him. "Have fun?" He asked. "Mhm" I hummed.

I turned to him and pecked his lips. The kiss deepened, he grabbed the back of my thighs and pulled me onto his lap. I reached my hands down to the belt wrapped around my waist, I pulled it off and threw it to the floor. I moved Harry's hands from the back of my thighs to my ass. He groaned into the kiss then rushed to pull the zipper down on my dress, then he pulled it off and over my head, leaving me in just my matching black lace bra and underwear set. Harry broke the kiss to look down at me "you're so fucking beautiful." He rasped. I pulled his shirt over his head, followed by his pyjama pants. While Harry unclipped my bra, allowing the straps to fall from my shoulders.

Within just a few minutes we were both completely naked. Harry flipped me onto my back. I whimpered as I rubbed my thighs together, desperate for any sort of friction. "Harry, please." I cried out. "What do you want baby? Use your words." "I need you to fuck me."

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 11 months

Note

AITA if I actively worsen my family’s sanity as revenge for worsening mine?

My family is that if two parents and three children (all in our 20s).

Without getting into deep specifics, basically, I’ve lost all the patience I’ve had for my family. My mom who is manipulative, my dad who is neglectful, my siblings who are egotistical and dismissive.

because I’m the middle child and oldest daughter I’ve been the brunt of every negative thing you could think of, and I dealt with it for… 25 years.

but this year as my New Year’s resolution I swore to treat them worse than they treat me. So every time my mom tried to manipulate me into feeling bad for her and to love her and to do the house chores, I threaten to kill myself and tell her that she was an awful mother and that if she really cared for me she wouldn’t ask me for things. (She knows I have mental illness that makes it hard for me to do things)

and when my dad puts my pet in danger I slap him and threaten to take his pet to a shelter to have him euthanized and tell him he should die alongside his pet (he is in his mid 60s)

I don’t do anything directly to my siblings because our relationship honestly isn’t that bad, but I did make a fake Instagram account that I use to call out one sibling for all the stuff they do to keep their image up or whatever (some bullying might be involved in their part)

and for my other sibling, who collects vinyls, occasionally I go and scratch up a vinyl they have. Just enough to make it seem like normal wear and tear, they haven’t noticed yet lol.

whenever my parents try to bring up my behavior to me I start yelling at them about how I’m crazy and they raised a crazy daughter and that everything I do is a result of their own creation. And my dad has offhandedly said to let a (female) pet die after she got injured once, so I bring that up all the time.

I tell him that since he hates women so much he should just shoot me like I know he wants to.

Over the past few months I’ve noticed that one sibling has become extremely paranoid, while the other has gotten very frustrated. My dad avoids me now and my mom is very obedient and quiet.

I don’t feel bad about this, and I know there are other things I could have done, but I feel like this has been worth 25 years of repressed anger. Now that the year is almost over, I’m considering that my New Year’s resolution be to try to fix whatever shit show has become of my family, but that’s not the point.

AITA for taking this revenge, or am I justified in paying them back?

the reason I don’t think I’m the asshole in this situation is that at least for the first several months, they tried doubling down on their bullshit. My mom got more manipulative, pulling out everything she could to make me feel bad for her and to submit to her again. And my dad became violent toward my pet, whom I’m protective of to the point where I’ve told every single person I’ve met that if anything happened to her I would kill everybody and then myself. (Luckily I was able to prevent my dad from actually hurting her, but the fact that he tried drove my goal further).

honestly, my sibling probably didn’t deserve it because we all pretty much ignore each other, but I’m holding the grudges from childhood when they would beat me up and break my stuff.

and before anyone says it, I went to therapy for four years and it just made me more angry

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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whore-4-drewstarkey · 1 year

Text

Girls Weekend- Drew Starkey x Fem!reader

summary: in which reader has her high school best friends come and visit her new place in Charleston and they finally find about about her secret lover.

warnings: angst? lots of fluff, and a bit of implied sexual content/comments. ENJOY! 😽

A/N: i’m def basing the two besties off of my besties hehehe 🤭 also, i suck at writing so please be nice 😭 ps this is my first drew starkey fic so feedback is defs welcomed 🫶🏻

———————————————————————

it was a late tuesday night in the beach town of charleston, south carolina when Y/N phone had started to buzz lightly. she was curled up on the couch, lamp on, reading one of her boyfriends many books he had acquired throughout the years. she found a stopping point in her (drew’s) book and placed the marker in it, before picking her phone up. she had a few texts from the ‘hometown girlies’ groupchat, immediately smiling, at the thought of her lifelong best friends.

ophelia: hey luvs, so martha and i were thinking maybe we could fly out to see you and your new place sometime soon?

ophelia: like maybe make it a girls weekend?!

martha: we miss you so much! we haven’t seen you in almost a year!

martha: just let us know when would work best for you! <3 xoxo

Y/N: omg! hi my babes!

Y/N: miss you girlies so fucking much it hurts 😢

Y/N: let me look at my schedule real quick! i’ll get back to you in about 20!

“hey, babe, my girlfriends from back home wanna come out and visit sometime soon, like have a girls weekend. are you still going to your mom’s the first week of may?” Y/N asked her boyfriend, drew, who sat close beside her, book in one hand, and his other gently rubbing his thumb across her shin, as she had her legs laying across his lap.

“uh, i believe so, unless someone cancels. why? am i not allowed to be there for girls weekend? oh wait! is this like where girls spill their darkest secrets?” drew rambled on as he looked up from his book, now intrigued by Y/N question.

“well, it’s not that i don’t want you here. it’s just they don’t know about us and i wanted to keep it that way. only the cast knows, and not even all of them know” Y/N let a sigh escape her plump lips. she wanted her best friends to know, yes, but at the same time she really liked the secrecy. not even her family knew about her and drew and that’s how she wanted to keep it, at least for now that is.

“i know i know. i will let you know if it gets canceled. but seriously what do girls do and talk about during a girls weekend?” drew asked with a confused expression plastered onto his face.

“that’s for us girls to know and you men to never find out. also thank you for always being so understanding and caring like all the time. i love you hunny” she cooed to her boyfriend who sat close to her on their shared couch.

“i love you too, angel” the tall, muscular man spoke as he leant over and planted a soft and gentle kiss to his girlfriend’s plump lips.

it had been three long weeks, of pure excitement and no patience. Y/N had just picked her two high school best friends, ophelia and martha, up from the airport and was headed back to her and her lovers’ place.

“i can’t believe you live in south carolina. like don’t you miss good old nebraska?” martha asked her best friend she hadn’t seen in almost a year.

“uh no, not really. i feel like i’m thriving here. i have a good job, a nice place, some friends. but don’t worry they won’t replace you two babes” Y/N giggled as she smiled.

“i mean, yeah you’re totally thriving here. wait! did you ever learn how to surf like you’ve always wanted to? or golf?” ophelia, who had been sitting in the passenger seat the whole ride back, spoke with pure curiosity.

“uh, yeah? kinda. one of my friends, chase, actually taught me how to surf. the guy knows how to do pretty much anything. i mean he grew up along the coast so he’s been doing it for awhile now. and as for golf, i definitely have had some lessons by another friend but he’s not the best teacher out there. like he ge-“ Y/N was cut off by her phone buzzing, notifying her that she had received a text.

without even thinking twice she then asked “hey ophelia, can you tell me who just texted me? i don’t wanna look while i’m driving because this traffic is horrible” she softly spoke.

“yeah, well it only has the name, woah who’s ‘joseph WITH A SWOONING EMOJI?!”

“DID YOU GET A LOVER FINALLY?!” martha screamed from the back seat of Y/N car.

“okay, for starters chill out. like bring down the volume i’m trying to drive here. and also, no that’s just my friend who i work with. the emoji is an inside joke. he’s actually the one who’s been trying to teach me how to golf. like i said he sucks at teaching” Y/N spat out about her secret lover.

“wait what do you do again? how do i not remember this?” martha asked, embarrassed she couldn’t remember what her best friend did for a living.

“dude she’s a makeup artist for some netflix show, right?” ophelia asked Y/N for confirmation, who hummed in response.

the three girls had just pulled into Y/N and drew’s apartment complex, which was near the beach per Y/N request as she had always loved the beach and longed to live near one at some point in her life. she just got lucky to, living with her soulmate near the beach. it’s everything she could’ve asked for and more.

ophelia and martha grabbed their carryons as Y/N tried to help the two women she’d called her best friends for over five years with their luggage. but her best friends of course declined the offer for help. once ophelia and martha gathered their luggage Y/N locked her car, and lead the way up the stairs to her and her lovers’ humble abode.

“the apartment is on the third floor, so my apologies for how tired you two will be when we finally make it to my floor. but hey, at least the view is great!” Y/N exclaimed, beaming with pure joy at the thought of spending the weekend with two women she’d been friends with the longest.

“are we almost there yet” martha huffed out as she trudged her way up the last set of staircases. she was tired already and just wanted to take a seat in a chair or on a couch. it didn’t matter which one at this point.

“yes, marti, it’s right here” the young makeup artist beamed as she unlocked the apartment door, pushing the door open, letting her friends go in first. they made a bit of noise, rolling their luggage on the wood floor as they entered the place, notifying a certain someone, that his lover was finally home.

“babe, you’re back! i tried texting you, anyways i’m about to head out to go shoot some hoops with J.D. an- uh hi?” drew spoke from your guys’ bedroom, as he entered the living room and kitchen area, only to met with three sets of eyes instead of one. as soon as he entered he finished pulling his shirt on, a light blush filling his cheeks as he had not expected to see two extra pair of eyes on him.

“joseph andrew! what the hell are you still doing here? i thought you were visiting your mom this weekend?” Y/N huffed out shakily, not really prepared to be interrogated by her two hometown girlfriends. she looked down at her feet as she felt her lovers’ and best friends’ eyes on her, wanting answers.

“first off, not a ‘hello, my love’ and yeah i texted you, told you my mom had to cancel because she had to work. something about wrapping up for the school year. i’m not really sure. plus, she wanted you to come as well” drew smirked as he walked past his girls’ best friends, lifting her chin up to look into his bright blue eyes. he could tell she was nervous. “why are you so nervous?” he spoke softly, as her friends looked at her.

“um… what’s going on here? WAIT! is THIS the guy who texted you earlier?” martha exclaimed in excitement.

“OH MY GOSH THIS IS THE GUY WHO TRIED TEACHING YOU HOW TO PLAY GOLF!” ophelia belted out with the realization who the guy had texted Y/N earlier was.

“u-uh y-yeah. guys this is m-my boyfriend? drew i’d like you to meet my best friends from back home, ophelia and martha. martha, ophelia, meet my lover, drew” Y/N stuttered out, feeling drew squeeze her hand, in a comforting way to let her know it’d be okay. he knew she didn’t want to tell them yet, but here she was, spilling her biggest secret to her girls. “and yeah, this is the guy who can’t teach me golf to save his life” she chuckled out lightheartedly, trying to lighten the mood.

“it’s not my fault you wear a short skirt every single time” drew mumbled out louder than he’d thought, as Y/N swatted his chest and her two friend chuckled lightly.

“whatever you say. now go play basketball with J.D. because i don’t wanna be blamed for you being late. i’ll never hear the end of it on set” Y/N smiled sweetly up at her lover, who’d bent down and pecked her lips softly, briskly walking out the door. “love you!” drew shouted from behind her” “love you too dumbass!” Y/N hollered back. and with that, drew was gone for the next few hours, leaving Y/N with ophelia and martha.

“i’m utterly speechless!” ophelia exclaimed loudly, not being able to control herself anymore. she’s waited for the day her best friend would find her significant other. and in all honesty, she was worried she never would. mainly because Y/N had a hard time opening up to men and trusting them with everything.

“you know we’re gonna get the dirt about everything out of you later tonight, right?” martha quizzed Y/N as she just giggled in return shaking her head in disbelief.

as the three girls got done eating and slightly catching up with each others lives, the front door opened, revealing none other than a shirtless, sweaty drew. the door opening had brought all three women’s attention to who had just entered. “drew, put a shirt on, better yet go take a shower. you smell. i can smell you from here babe. ew. what did you and J.D. do, run suicides?” Y/N scrunched her nose up as her boyfriend came closer to her, wafting his sweaty-smelling self to her.

“actually we didn’t do that. we just played a one-on-one game of basketball. and J.D. was losing per usual and came up with the dumbest rules that aren’t even real! i mean come on, i would know if those rules were real or not. mans a sore loser for sure” drew rambled on, ignoring his girlfriend’s statement to put a shirt on or take a shower request.

“okay, drew, so do you like know every sport or?” martha questioned her best friends boyfriend, eyebrows crunching up with the questioning look she’d given him.

“well, martha, if you’d like to know. i don’t know every sport. i try to act like i do but i typically just stick to mainly basketball and golf because that’s what i’m familiar with. however, i do think i’m a basketball pro” drew grinned cockily, as he rested his hands on Y/N shoulders from behind as he’d been standing behind her dining room chair.

“don’t even” she sighed, letting a giggle escape her mouth, as she spoke to her two friends. it was more of a warning to them, as drew could go on for hours about basketball and all the rules. “babe, go shower please. you smell like a sweaty pig” Y/N bellowed out again to her boyfriend once more.

“fine” drew puffed out, kissing her cheek and walking into their shared bedroom, shutting the door.

“okay i think we need to play for the girls card game and hope we get all the dirt out of you about mr dreamy and you!” ophelia let out, walking to her suitcase and digging the card game out.

“i can make the cocktails while you set up, if you don’t mind showing me where everything is!” martha told Y/N sweetly with a big smile that happened to be very contagious.

“okay fine, the alcohol is in the top right cabinet as well as the glasses. let me clean up the table and we can get started i guess” Y/N smiled nervously as she knew they wouldn’t stop until they knew each detail.

as soon as the three girls sat at the table, the game began. of course Y/N got picked first, picking up the card which was a truth.

“have you ever sexted someone? if so, who?” Y/N read out before continuing “what’s considered sexting?” she blushed lightly as her two best friend started to lightly freak out.

“really? if you have to ask then you totally have. actually it’s you we’re talking about you’ve never talked about doing sexual things through text” ophelia giggled as martha nodded her head in agreement.

“so NOT true. the answer is yes, and as for who, that smelly man is taking a shower. now it’s your turn ms ophelia” Y/N stated matter of factly, leaving her two friends with gaping mouths.

“shut up! no way! wait real quick how old is he again?” martha asked bewildered.

“well i’m 22 and he’s 7 years older than me so that makes him 29” Y/N stated in a smartass tone, sassily.

“WAIT! he’s almost THIRTY?! the guy doesn’t look a day over 24!” ophelia spat out to her girlfriend.

“tell me about it. i thought he was in his mid twenties and was flabbergasted when i found out hes almost thirty” Y/N chuckled out as she ushered ophelia to draw a card.

“give this card to the most likely to have had the most hookups. whelp, looks like i’m keeping this card. i’ll admit it!” ophelia sheepishly shrugged her shoulders. next it was martha’s turn, who had picked up a dare.

“dare. text your partner and tell them you’re pregnant. oh fuck. chad is not gonna like this. hell i don’t even like this” martha huffed out as she texted her boyfriend back home that she was pregnant. now it was a waiting game. “okay your turn ms innocent” martha gestured to Y/N who sat next to her.

“i’m telling you right now, if i get another stupid fucking truth i’m gonna lose it” Y/N grumbled as drew opened their bedroom door, walking out, freshly cleaned and with a fresh set of clothes. he had on his coors lite tshirt that hugged his biceps just right and a pair of blue jeans. it’s almost like the guy couldn’t go anywhere without a pair on. even if he was just chillin in the comfort of his own home.

“language m’lady!” he chirped to Y/N as she got done complaining about what kind of card she’d pick up next. “did you save me any of your homemade cooking?” drew asked her sweetly as he came up from behind Y/N chair again, softly massaging her shoulders, her leaning her head on his right arm in return.

“mmm of course i did my love. it’s in the microwave. hey before you go will you make me another cocktail? maybe a hurricane?” Y/N tilted her head back to look up at her extremely tall boyfriend, with a buzz cut still on show. she really did like that buzzcut and she hated to admit it, but it did things to her. she gently put her left hand on his right which was still sat on her shoulder, running her fingers across the cold metal that adorned them. “hey, you put your rings back on” she mumbled to herself as she played with them some more, waiting for an answer from drew about her cocktail.

“of course i’ll make you a hurricane. anything for you, quite literally” he smirked, bending down and planting a chaste kiss to her jaw, picking up her empty glass.

“Y/N girl pick up the card already” ophelia urged Y/N to pick up the next card. Y/N was praying it wouldn’t be another stupid truth, but of course the gods didn’t listen to her pleads.

“ugh! you’ve got to be kidding me! another truth. oh god. didn’t want to give this out” she huffed and puffed as she kept rereading her card. drew on the other hand wasn’t listening, minding his own business. he’d opened himself a beer, and began making Y/N her cocktail.

“read it!” martha started chanting to her now south carolina native best friend.

“are you a virgin? if not tell about your first time” Y/N mumbled out, getting drew’s attention, as he spat his beer out of his mouth all over the counter. he started to cough in the process, suppressing a laugh. he knew the whole story because he was the one who took it from her. and boy what a story that was.

“you gonna answer it? actually we both know the answer already” ophelia giggled because Y/N had always said she wouldn’t give it up til marriage.

“not true, also drew babe you good?” Y/N blurted out before she could even process her own words, leaving her two best friends utterly shocked.

“i’m peachy. just choked on my beer because i was definitely not expecting this to be that kind of game you girls play on a girls night weekend whatever it is. but yeah, not true” drew winked to his girlfriend’s two best friends.

“spill. answer the card. do it. right now” martha pressured Y/N to spill the details.

“ugh! okay fine. no i’m not a virgin anymore okay?” she blushed profusely, as drew walked over to the table with her freshly made cocktail in hand. he gently sat it down in front of her, going back to grab his dinner from the microwave as it went off.

“okay and? you gotta answer all the questions babes!” ophelia squealed out, taking a sip from her mimosa.

“like was it everything you dreamed of and more?” martha questioned seriously.

“ahh, don’t you even think about it!” drew warned his girlfriend from telling the somewhat embarrassing story of their first time as he sat down at the island near the table.

“hey mr party pooper it’s the rules of the game!” martha blurted out to drew from across the way. drew just laughed lightly, knowing she was right.

“this is awkward. i don’t like that drew’s staring at me! babe stop looking at me with those stupid fucking ocean blue eyes of yours!” Y/N screeched as she giggled, feeling tipsy already.

“babe, i’m just waiting for you to answer the question. that’s all” he chuckled with a smirk plastered on his face as he continued to eat his dinner.

“ugh so it was probably i don’t know 7 months ago. we had just wrapped up filming and we’re all partying. i kinda got a bit tipsy but don’t worry drew was too so don’t go hounding him on this. anyways we went back to his place he’d been sharing with austin, another costar and long story short we thought we were alone but turns out austin had come back early from partying and was actually trying to sleep in the next room over. also don’t worry drew kept asking me if i was sure and blah blah blah. very annoying by the way because i said i was sure and you kept on asking!” Y/N spoke out with hardly any breath left over, glancing at drew who cringed at the thought of his roommate hearing the both of them making love to one another.

“hey now, sorry for trying to make sure you wanted to” drew jokes back to Y/N who just smiled sweetly at him from across the way. “also, all i’m saying is if you weren’t so vocal he wouldn’t have known” drew smirked cockily at you, standing up, carrying his dirty dish to the sink.

“JOSEPH ANDREW STARKEY SHUT UP!” Y/N yelled playfully at him as she walked over to him, smacking his chest, making him let out the biggest laugh of the night.

“drew come draw one card!” martha urged her best friends boyfriend to play one round of their game.

“ugh, fine” he chuckled as he picked up a card, laughing when he read it in his head, before he began to read it out loud. “never have i ever had sex in public…”

“so? have you?” ophelia started to grill not only drew but her best friend, Y/N as well.

“i mean yeah? is that weird? have you guys not?” drew laughed nonchalantly, face plastered with a cocky smile, as if his answer wasn’t a big deal. martha and ophelia sat there, with their mouths wide open in shock.

“stop, wait really?! wait where?!” ophelia, the nosier friend of the two pried.

“the beach at like dusk and also at dawn oh and the communal bathrooms at the tennis court” drew blurted out, causing his girlfriend to scoff at him spilling the details. this just caused her two best friends to giggle.

“so, this, this is the guy that cracked the Y/F/N Y/L/N? some tall guy, who’s super cocky, and who’s by the way WAYYYY better looking than any other guy we went to school with?” ophelia spoke loudly, in shock that her best friend who had said for all these years she’d wait until marriage, cracked.

“yes, what can i say, he’s the sweetest, goofiest and between us three the nerdiest guy i think i’ve ever met in my life” Y/N chuckled happily as drew had his chest pressed against her back, thick arm wrapped around her body as he gazed down at his girl lovingly.

“hey, i’m not that nerdy!” drew attempted to defend himself but failed majorly. “babe you double majored and read very old books in your free time. you’re very nerdy” Y/N smiled up at him, gently scratching his scruff covered jaw.

“wait hold up hold up! he DOUBLE MAJORED?! i couldn’t even succeed with that and you know me. i’m like pretty smart. i’m intrigued. like i was not expecting this at all” martha spoke still flabbergasted by the whole situation.

“uh yeah i did double major. not that big of a deal. also hey babe before i go read my new book, tell me, did you ever finish east of eden?” drew looked down at Y/N quizzically.

“almost. i have like three chapters left. once i finish i promise i’ll talk to you about my thoughts on the book” Y/N smiled sweetly, pulling him down so she could give him a passionate kiss. “love you” Y/N mumbled against drew’s lips, as his hands cupped her waist, as she stood on her tippy toes. “i love you too. don’t stay up for too long. i need your cuddles to sleep” drew smiled shyly down to his girl, before he strolled his way to their bedroom.

“so tell me, was he big?” ophelia raised her eyebrows wanting to know all the deets on her besties new man.

“don’t you even fucking dare answer that baby” drew yelled, turning his head back, smirking, as he approached the bedroom door, opening it and entering. just in time for Y/N to whisper out a response.

“have you not seen how tall and muscular he is? hes a big boy, you do the math. hes definitely not small” Y/N winked at her two best friends who started to squeal out. drew, who had just sat down on the bed, back against the wall, just smirked to himself, shaking his head as he heard his girl gossip about him, not having a care in the world that she just spilled some personal information. he really enjoyed hearing her gossip and flaunt about him. he always had. and always will.

#drew starkey #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #drew starkey fic #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x fem!reader

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nicolesainz · 7 months

Text

You belong with me (MM7)

Mason Mount x f!reader

Author’s note: I am in the middle of a Charles Leclerc fic and studying for exams and yet at 11 at night all I am willing to do is write a fic about Mase. So here you go! It’s a very simple plot from Mason’s POV.

Summary: You indeed belong with him, you just haven’t realized it yet. Mason has been trying everything and when the perfect opportunity arises, he is willing to take it up and make you his.

Warnings: angst, jealousy, minor violence, soft in the end!

She is the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. There is no one else in this world that I would want to make and call ‘mine’. If I had a lamp with a genie inside, my only wish would be to let me love her unconditionally.

It’s a pity she won’t let me love her. She’s in search for the love of a man that doesn’t even want her. Even worse, can’t provide her the love I can and am willing to give. I feel sick to my stomach knowing her heart has been engraved with his name instead of mine.

Y/N and I have been best friends before we could even talk. As babies our eyes and childish giggles would do the trick. As we were growing up, our relationship became stronger and we were attacked to the hip. She’d beg her mother to stay over at my house and I would beg my mom to stay over at her house.

We would never sleep. We would talk endless hours about what we want to do in life. What we want to succeed in. What our lives would be in 20 years time.

“I will be playing for Chelsea one day and I will win the Champions League. I promise you.” I said as a young boy, hopping on my bed, with a dream and passion to motivate me.

“You will be a superstar one day, Masey. And I will always be by your side to cheer for you.” Y/n replied, looking up to me, with a massive smile plastered on her face and her bubbly eyes admiring me.

Y/n did keep her word. She’s been present to all of my games. Whether those were in London, in Holland or other parts of the world, she has been truly my biggest fan. At winning games and losing games, she’s stood by me like no one else has or will ever do so.

Every goal I scored was dedicated to her. My celebrations would vary but a small heart would always be included. If I ever forgot the heart celebration, I would go up to the camera and mouth an ‘I love you’ to the screen so she would see it.

A lot of people in high school believed that we were dating. I would’ve loved to confirm those rumors, although y/n’a undying love for the nerd, tall boy in our class would ruin everything I wished for. He was expressionless and would simply smile like an idiot to her whenever they had a small conversation.

The moment we stopped sitting next to each other my blood would boil every time I caught him looking at her. I would send her small paper notes to keep her distracted from his presence. At times, I wasn’t able to go to class because of games or practice so for the entirely of the time, she would occupy my thoughts and I would ask her other friends if anything happened.

Till this very day, the only person that truly knows how deeply in love I am with y/n, is Declan. And I think he’s kind of sick hearing me blabber about how I would gift her the world, the planets and the night sky full of stars just to be with her.

“I know you love her mate but you’re clearly not what she wants.” One day Declan hit me with the realization that I may not be the boy she loves. And it was partially true. I wasn’t. Not until the perfect chance popped up.

It was Valentine’s Day and coincidentally Y/n birthday as well. Everyone in our class knew so her nickname in high school was Mrs. Cupid. They said that she could have whoever she desired. And yet this never happened. The idiot she loved was a scared man who couldn’t handle the portions of love she was showering him with.

It was our class reunion after almost 10 years. Me and y/n knew about the whereabouts of some old classmates so seeing them again would be like a casual hang out. Other hand lost touch so we would be seeing them again after years. Y/n would also be faced with the asshole she had been pinning about.

“How do I look Mase?” She appeared in front of me with a golden sparkly top and a black skirt that was perfectly showing off her figure. Her hair was let down in soft summery curls with lips more red than Manchester’s color. My heart started thumping so fast, I could run a marathon and come back without a hint of sweat. She’s so majestic.

“You’re beautiful darling.” Was all I said with a soft smile on my lips, even though I hid all my true thoughts for her appearance.

“Oh why thank you Mr. Mount. You are very handsome yourself.” I blush at her sweet words. She has an effect on me which I do not try to hide. Unfortunately I know that the reason why she is so insanely beautifully dressed is because he will be there. She would love to have another try. Maybe a final one.

"Shall we get going? You will start getting annoyed with your heels very soon so better be sat than sorry." I point out trying to clear my head from all the intrusive thoughts.

"Oh yes, plus you've got a game tomorrow. We have to come back early." She grabs her purse and we make our way out of her house. I drove all the way to London with my clothes for the party and for the game tomorrow after training so I could be with her from the moment we enter the club.

"You can stay in the party if you like, I will come and pick you up whenever you want me to." I suggest her by letting her get closer to what she desires but instead letting my desire fly away.

"No influence in the world has a priority against you. We will come back home when you call so. I won't risk your sleeping schedule for my silliness." Y/n takes my free hand into hers and caresses it softly. She keeps making it very difficult for me not to maneuver back the car, lock her in her room and shower her with kisses and tell her how much I love her.

"For now let's go have some fun. It will be nice seeing all the faces of our old classmates."

Most of them still live in London. It was me and three other people who lives far away in different cities. Once we arrived at the bar that we had booked, y/n held my arm nervously and I kissed her forehead, wanting to calm her down. She had no reason to worry. Everyone who knew her loved her. It was only him who couldn't love her like she wished.

When I opened the door and our old classmates noticed us, they all ran towards y/n, giving her hugs and compliments about how beautiful she looked. Some of the boys came up to me and greeted me with a few shakes and congratulations for the transfer to Manchester.

As we reached the barline, he was there talking to some of his old friends and y/n eyes immediately widened from worrying. He looked the same to me, I hadn't noticed anything different. I decided to go up to him and chat a bit, given that for y/n to ease there must be a familiar face in presence.

"Look at that, Mason Mount. How are you dude?"

He suddenly got all arrogant or what? He was a quiet, forgettable and tall boy in high school, what changed all of a sudden?

"Good, good. Settling the in the new life in Manchester. How about you?" I try not to sound as pissed as I may look. I eye him up and down once more trying to understand what difference there is.

"Travelling the world every other weekend, I am exhausted. You get the feeling? Home and away games?" Oh he gained soo much confidence over the years that he got annoying as well.

"Definitely, I agree. So what do you do that requires so much traveling?" Last time I remember he wanted to become a driver but god knows if that could get him anywhere at the age he was.

"I work for Mercedes, as their development driver for Formula 1." I almost chocked on my drink. So he did make it as a driver, almost.

"That's amazing. Good for you mate." That's what gave him all the confidence he has I suppose.

"So what about you and y/n, finally got together? I saw her holding your arm, I assumed you're dating." A smirk formed above his eyes, which made my eyes twitch a tad.

"She's my best friend. So no, we are not dating." I so would have loved to say otherwise even if that meant I had to lie, but I couldn't. It would be wrong for y/n.

"Damn, still haven't given up Mount? I admire your determination. If she was as hot as she is now back in the day, I would have made my move." If he utters another word he will die on the hill and I will be arrested but for the sake of y/n I wouldn't care.

"She's always been extremely beautiful. You were just trying to figure out whether you have a dick or not so your focus was on something else." I got a lot of pats on the back and a lot of 'fuck dude' echos in the background.

"If you are so desperate to try and get into her pants why haven't you flashed at her the trophies and the money? Easier path than trying to sway her with your undying love confessions." I couldn't control myself when he said those disgusting things so my only response was to punch him in the face and throw my drink on him as well.

"You don't deserve an ounce of the love she has for you. You don't deserve the charming smiles you would have woken up next to. You don't deserve anything good, fucking piece of shit." He got up immediately and punched me in the gut with all his strength. I stopped breathing with how my lungs were pressed and all his friends were trying to block him from punching me again.

"Who told you I wanted her to like me in the first place? There's a reason why I never asked her out. You can have all her pathetic emotions for yourself. She still begs for someone she liked since high school. You're a goddamn footballer, why are you so obsessed with her?"

When I finally got up on my feet again and gained my senses, I grabbed his collar before anyone could hold me back from going up to him and gave him a deadly look, as if this would be the last time he was breathing and not coughing blood.

"I loved and will continue to love her no matter what. I do not want anyone else and I am willing to compromise for the sake of her happiness. I was tired of watching her chase your pathetic ass when I could have given her all the love she desires. You can have anyone you like but your time with her is over." As I realised that I said that out loud in public, I turned around to see a fully crying y/n, trying to control her sobs and clear her vision.

Her lower lip was quivering and her eyes were on my hands as I was still holding his shirt very violently. I looked deep into her eyes, although she refused to give me even a single glimpse. I had fucked it up majorly.

"Let him go Mason." Her voice has no emotion in it. More blunt than ever. There was no 'Masey' or 'Mase'. It was stern cold. I did as I was told and turned back to face her full blown red cheeks and lips with smeared lipstick. What had I done?

"I am so sorry, y/n. I shouldn't have had, but I..." I couldn't finish my sentence as she walked away from the scene and I immediately run after her. No way in hell I was going to stay back.

"I didn't mean to hit him. He was literally asking for it. If you could hear what he said about you, it was horrible. I couldn't just stand there and let him talk so disrespectfully about you." I never let anyone talk in a mean manner about my girl. Even Conor who once called her 'hot' I almost kicked his leg on purpose in practice.

"Did you mean what you said at the bar? Or was this just a show?" I couldn't believe my ears when she said that she believed that this was just a show. Was that what she thought of me?

"Ask anyone I know on this planet. Ask them about you. Ask them what I have said about you. Ask them how much I love you. Ask them how I would take a bullet for you, how I would put my career on the line if it meant to prioritise you. You have no idea how much I cried the night before I left for Manchester. I called Lewis at 3 am in the morning crying, asking him to help me cancel my contract so I could stay in London. Even if that meant trying to force my way back into Chelsea or another club. Do you really think I would punch a guy for any other girl besides you? Because yes y/n, I love you. I truly am madly in love with you. I love you so much it started to pain me. It was heartbreaking seeing you try to be loved by someone who wasn't deserving of your love when I was there, waiting to give you all the love of the world. If you still think this is all a show, then I am deeply sorry. I just want the best for you."

There was so much more to confess and to explain, although it would take me an eternity to prove to her how much she meant to me. Since day one I knew that if someone would be my endgame, it had to be her.

"You are my best friend, you will always be. We share everything with each other. Why did you never say anything about this? What stopped you from telling me how you were feeling? " She came closer to me and cupped my cheeks softly, caressing my rough skin.

"If I lost you because of my feelings, I would have never forgiven myself. God knows how many nights we spend sleeping in each other's embrace and I whispered in your ear how much I was in love with you. I just hoped one day you listened and wake up realising we should be together. But forcing you to love me, wouldn't be right. That is why I never told anything." This could either break my heart or bring me back to life, there's no way back now.

"Mason, I was in love with you before I ever was with him. He was just my reason to bury all the love I had for you. I was scared of admitting anything because your career kept growing and growing and the thought of being in love with you whilst you were playing in another country with a girlfriend I probably wouldn't even like, would keep me up late at night crying."

Her words broke my heart into a million pieces. My y/n was in love with me as well? The girl of my dreams could have been mine for so long and we wouldn't have had to go through this mess? Y/n loved me, oh my god.

"If you allow me, I will love you for the rest of our lives. Whoever you want to end up with, just tell me, will you allow me to give you all the unconditional love I have for you? All that matters to me is that you are happy. As long as you smile, I know I can smile as well." I lowered my head and our foreheads touched, feeling her breath hit on my lips, which were about to capture hers but I held back for a moment.

"I don't want to be loved by anyone else but you, Mason Tony Mount. If I want to be with someone, I want that person to be you. I want to share my life and love I have with you. We could have been happy now if we both weren't so scared to admit our feelings." I can feel her tears running down my hands as I was trying to bring her face closer to mine.

"Better late than never, am I right?" I took the chance and captured her lips in a full of years of emotions kiss, softer than the touch of clouds but with more love than cupid's arrows. My heart has finally found the pace it will beat when I am with her. It will beat faster than a thousand hearts combined and will be full of happiness.

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