#( i m taking some tylenol and going to bed

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Miller's Christmas Tree Farm

Part three - Underneath the tree

Summary: With the big Christmas Dance coming up you have your hands full. But somehow you and Joel always end up in the same place and make the most of it 😉 Confessions are made and finally you get that happily ever after you always dreamed of.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem. reader

Rating: M

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: no outbreak AU, major Hallmark movie vibes, fluff, a lot of flirting, kissing, Tommy and Ellie still being sneaky menaces, a steamy scene, no actual smut though, sorry guys, happy end

Co- written with @jennaispunk 💜

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Full Masterlist // Joel Miller Masterlist // Miller’s Christmas Tree Farm Masterlist

You woke up the next day feeling a little under the weather. Not full on sick but just…. Exhausted. With horror you realised it was way past time to bring Ellie to school, getting dizzy as you made your way towards her bedroom.

To your surprise she wasn’t there. You noted that her school bag that was usually in the hallway was gone too. Walking towards the door you noticed a pink post it hanging against it, reaching for it.

Took Ellie to school. Get some sleep and meet me in the barn when you’re up. Joel

A smile sneaked to your face as you took the note and walked back towards your bedroom. You searched through you medicine drawer, grabbing some Tylenol before you got back to bed, snuggling under your blanket, Joel's not still sticking to your hand as you caught yourself dreamily grinning at it. 

Groaning you closed your eyes, melting against the mattress. 

You really got it bad for the grumpy Miller brother. 

Taking another look at the clock you think another hour of sleep would be in your best interest. Even though part of you wanted nothing more than go and see Joel. 

You couldn't even remember the last time you felt like that about a man, or if you ever did before. You were falling for him, you were falling for him hard. 

And maybe, maybe he was falling for you too. 

Joel was in the middle of sanding, when he heard the barn door open. Looking over his shoulder he couldn’t and found himself didn’t want to fight the smile that sneaked to his lips when he saw you walk in. 

He had been surprised this morning when Ellie knocked on his door and asked him if he could drive her to school because you were still asleep and Ellie didn’t wanted to wake you up because you had been so busy these last weeks. 

So Joel took Ellie to school answering every single question she had on their way. Sarah had been the same way. Always asking the first thing that came to her mind. He found himself thinking about how much Ellie and Sarah would have loved each other if they would have gotten a chance to meet each other. 

Once he dropped her off and gotten back to the farm he wanted to invite you over for breakfast but when he knocked on your door there was no answer. So, very quietly, he let himself in, finding the apartment still sound asleep, much like you were as he risked a glance into your bedroom where you were still sleeping. Smiling to himself he grabbed the first piece of paper he could find to write you a note, pining it to your door.

He then spend the rest of the morning in the barn, working on the sleigh he had been building. He had been planing to gift it to Ellie for christmas, but after realising how busy you had been since you agreed to Tommys proposition of moving to the farm and bringing it back on track yo had been working nonstop.

You deserved a day off.

So, if you agreed, he’d take you and Ellie on a long walk around the property today and then make dinner after. 

„Whatcha doing?“ You asked and he smiled as he put the sanding paper down to turn around towards you. 

„I am making a sleigh for Ellie,“ he said and your eyes widened in surprise.

„Really?“ You breathed out. He nodded, suddenly feeling a little shy. 

„I wanted to give it to her as a Christmas present but I changed my mind today. I wanna give it to her today and take you both out on a walk around the farm. There’s a small hill not too far from here. You… You deserve a day off for how hard you have been working here.“

Instead of answering him you hugged him, inhaling his scent deeply, his arms closing around you to pull you even closer. 

"I don’t think I ever thanked you for what you've gone and what you’re still doing. Not just for the farm but…“ he stopped talking and you looked up at him with a warm smile.

„You're welcome,“ you whispered as he slowly bend down to kiss you softly. 

„Waaaahhh,“ Ellie cried out in delight as she slid down the hill, Joel behind her as you took photo after photo. 

You couldn’t remember the last time you had heard her laugh like that. Hell, she even made snow angles with Joel earlier and it was the cutest thing you had ever seen, her cheeks rosy and eyes full of wonder. 

When they made it down the hill Ellie got off the sleigh and let herself fall into the snow on the ground, out of breath. You looked down at her in amusement. 

„I’ll just take a mini nap right here,“ she sighed, dramatically fluttering her eyes closed, giggling when Edward jumped on top of her, licking her cheek. 

Turning your head to look at Joel who got up from the sleigh with a groan you chuckled. 

„You should go now mom. Joel is a great…. Sleigh… Driver?“ Ellie said, now looking up at you. 

„Is he now?“ You asked and she nodded. 

„I need a break. You kids have fun,“ she nodded, before her eyes closed again. With a roll of your eyes you looked up at Joel who was grinning in amusement. 

„There’s hot cocoa in my bag. Prepare three cups for us while I take you mom for a ride?“ He said and Ellie sat herself up. 

„On it!“ She said with a nod, giggling when Edward dropped a stick in her lap. You already knew she would spend the whole time playing with Edward so you looked at Joel who was already looking at you and nodding his head towards the hill. 

You were itching to take his hand but didn’t know if he’d be comfortable. Joel and you had not talked about whatever it was that you were doing. Yeah you had kissed. A lot. And yeah, he wanted to take you out on a date. But were you together?

You decided to ask. 

„Joel?“

„Hmm?“ He looked at you, pulling the sleigh behind him as you walked up the hill. You could still hear Ellie laugh behind you and Edward bark at her. 

„What are we?“ You asked and he kept looking at you, cheeks rosy from the cold today, lips pursed. 

„We are…. Getting to know each other," he said and you frowned. 

"That's it?“ 

„Yeah,“ he smiled, and you realised that you made it to the top of the hill. He took your hand, helping your sit down on the sleigh before he sat down behind you, pulling you against his body, lips against you ear, his beard scratching over your skin as he got even closer. 

„I wanna get to know you. I wanna know what makes you feel good, and what kind of noises you make when I…." you felt his lips on your neck the next moment, slowly sucking on your pulse point and you whimpered. 

„I wanna get to know all of you. Cause what I already know? Makes me hope you wanna stick around to be mine some day,“ he said, not giving you a chance to react as he pushed forward and the sleigh began to move downhill.

After checking in with the catering vendors the next morning, with Joel making you a sandwich for breakfast, you took Ellie to a little shopping spree after school. You needed something to wear for the christmas dance because all you brought was jeans and sweaters when you moved. 

„You need a really pretty dress,“ Ellie said as you went into the third store. 

„Can I make you try on one too?“ You teased, already knowing the answer. 

„No thank you. You are the Disney princes, I am the funny side kick,“ she winked and you hugged her, ready to finally find something to dress that you both liked. 

Meanwhile Tommy Miller, on his mission to meddle in his brothers love life was in your bathroom with his toolbox, making sure that you would need the help of his big brother if you wanted to take a shower later today.

When you finally found the dress you texted the group chat you had made with Tommy and Joel asking if they wanted some Chinese take out and if so what. Tommy answered right away, telling you that he would spend the night at Maria’s while Joel only answered with a yes please. 

Waiting for his order you gave up when you made it to the restaurant and just ordered something for him you hoped he would like. 

When you made it back to the farm Ellie quickly made her way towards her room, wanting to finish her homework while you texted Joel that you brought the food and that he’d be invited over for dinner after you took a shower. 

Yet when you stood in your shower, nothing happened. There was no water coming out of the shower head. After two minutes of trying you gave up, getting into your robe. The water clearly worked as the sink had no issues. 

And while you could do some handiwork, everything related to the bathroom was out of your comfort zone. 

Thankfully Joel chose the moment to knock on your door so you got your slippers on and walked down the hall to open the door for him. 

„Great timing. I need you as my landlord,“ you said with a teasing smile while Joel looked at you, his eyes clearly wandering down your body before he looked back into your eyes. You felt yourself flush under his gaze and he cleared his throat. 

„Something happen?" he asked and you nodded. 

„Wanted to take a shower but there’s no water in there,“ you shrugged and he hummed. 

„Can I take a look?" He asked and you nodded. He smiled as he stepped in, closing the door behind him. You thought he would just walk straight to the bathroom but you were surprised when you felt his hand on your hip as he softly kissed your temple.

„Missed you today,“ he said and your heart fluttered in your chest as you looked up at him with a smile before he made his way towards the bathroom. 

While Joel went back to his place to get his tools, you checked in on Ellie who was already finished with her homework and now working on her sketch of Edward that she planned of gifting Joel. 

„Shower is not working so Joel is gonna take a look,“ you informed her and she nodded.

„I’ll call you for dinner when he’s finished?“ you asked and she nodded again, fully focused on the paper in front of her. With a small grin you closed the door behind you, walking towards the living room where you had put the takeout container. Searching through the food you took a spring roll, biting into it just when you heard the door open and Joel walk in. 

Following him towards the bathroom, you leaned with your shoulder the the doorway, watching him work. 

You never had this. 

When something in your apartment back in San Francisco broke, your husband called the building manager instead of fixing it himself. He said, it was because he paid for the service after all, but you knew that he just wasn’t able to do it himself. 

You heard Joel mutter under his breath before he shook his head. 

„It’s really nice to have a man around who knows what he’s doing,“ you said with a smile and he looked over his shoulder, giving you a wink. 

„Guess my husband only knew what he was doing when he was chasing after other women,“ you sighed and saw Joel stop. 

„I know he's dead, but he was an idiot,“ he said, grabbing a wrench and seconds later water was coming out of the shower head. 

„Tommy really needs to step up his meddling game, this is getting ridiculous,“ he said with a groan as he got up from his knees. 

„Tommy?“

„Yeah. He fucked with the water supply for the shower. Probably to get me over here tonight,“ he said with a sigh, setting his tools back into the box he brought. He washed his hands before he turned towards you. 

„Like I need a goddamn reason to see my girl,“ he grinned, both of his hands coming to rest on your hips and you took a step inside the bathroom, closing the door behind you. 

„Your girl, huh? I like the sound of that," you hummed, both of your hands coming to rest on his chest as you looked up at him. 

„Good,“ he said before he kissed you.

You were in the middle of finishing the last decorations in the space you had all set up for the christmas dance later that week when you saw Joel. 

He had been gone almost all day, picking up stuff for the big party and taking care of last minute errands and apparently, going to a barber. His hair was cut and his facial hair was trimmed too which made him look even more attractive than he already was. 

Fuck, he was hot. 

He must have caught you staring, raising his eyebrow in question at you while you just blinked out of your haze, feeling your cheeks getting warm. 

„Look at you brother! You look like you don’t come out of the woods anymore!“ You heard Tommy tease him and he rolled his eyes. 

„Still living in the fucking woods,“ he grumbled and you laughed. 

You waited until Tommy was gone to walk past him, your hand coming to rest on his chest as you smiled up at him. 

„You look good, Miller,“ you said with a wink, patting his chest before you walked off and towards your apartment.

Ellie was already at the Christmas party with Tommy while you put the finishing touches to your make up. The dress you bought was a dark green velvet dress, floor length with a slit on your side.

You felt incredibly sexy as you lined your lips with the red lipstick you had gotten from the store. 

You hoped that people would enjoy this party, maybe even donate some money. 

These last weeks had you falling in love with this place. The Farm quickly having become a home to you and Ellie. 

Which of course could also have to do with you falling for Joel Miller. 

Taking a deep breath, you took one last look at yourself in the mirror before you made your way towards the party, hoping everything would turn out perfect. 

You excuse yourself from a group of parents from Ellie’s school and made your way over to the bar for a drink. You had barely said two words to Joel all night, the guests had kept you busy chatting and dancing. It was nice having friends again, people to laugh and joke with, but your mind and your eyes kept wandering back to Joel. Maybe if you went over to talk with him you could get at least one dance out of him. 

Joel stood off to the side, observing instead of participating. He was friendly to anyone who stopped to talk, but he wasn’t working the room the way you did. He admired the effortless grace you had when dealing with people. He was getting better at it, but he’d never be as good as you. He knew how lucky he was to have you around, and not just for the farm. You had made him open his heart in a way he never thought he would again. 

And you looked so beautiful tonight, the dress hugging your every curve and Joel just wanted to go over and kiss you in front of every single person, so everyone knew you were his. 

Would you like that?

He shook his head, taking another sip of his drink, his eyes always on you, trying to decide how he could approach you best. 

Moving through a crowd a people, you make your way over to Joel. It seems like every time you try to spend a moment with him, someone is demanding attention from you or Joel. The universe seems to be playing a cruel trick on you, having him so close but so far away. 

Mrs. Donovan, the town librarian, stops you with a soft hand on your arm. She congratulates you on your success and wonders if you would be available in the summer to help organise some reading events for the children over their summer break from school. You tell her that you can talk about it more after the new year. The topic turns to her nephew who just moved back to town. You smile politely as she tells you how perfect he’d be for you, but you skilfully deflect her matchmaking, you have your sights set on one man and his name is Joel Miller. 

Your attention drifts to the dance floor and you see Tommy and Maria out there among the other dancers. They look so happy with their arms around each other as they sway to the music. Tommy leans in and whispers something in Maria’s ear and she playfully swats his shoulder and laughs. That’s what you want: to share secrets and inside jokes with someone as you hold each other close, and you want that someone to be Joel. 

A twinge of jealousy hits you as your eyes settle on Joel. He’s talking to a woman. You immediately recognise her as one of the single mom’s from Ellie’s school, one who’s constantly flirting with the Fiery red hair flips over over the woman’s shoulder as she throws her head back with the fake laugh some women do when they try too hard. Your fist clench at your sides as you watch the exchange. Joel doesn’t appear all that interested in her flirting, but that doesn’t seem to deter the woman at all. 

The slow song ends and the couples begin to clear the floor. You’ve missed your chance for that dance with Joel, at least for now. The departing couples obscure your view of Joel and you crane your neck to see what’s happening. The way clears just as the woman puts her hand on Joel’s forearm and your pulse hammers in your ears. You’re going to put a stop to this right now, you don’t care how silly you look. 

A little hand grabs yours before you get two steps toward Joel. You look down at Ellie smiling brightly. 

“Mom, come dance with me! It’s my favourite song!!”

She tugs you toward the dance floor as you shoot a glance in Joel’s direction. You open your mouth to protest but Ellie’s pleading eyes make you give in. Joel will have to wait. 

Joel rests his forearms on the fence and looks out over the farm. The steam of his breath rose like a smokestack toward the night sky before disappearing into the black. He was damn proud of how this place had flourished, and he had you to thank for it. You had breathed life back into this place, and into him too. 

“Trying to hide from me, Miller?” 

You saw him seek out the door and knew it was the perfect opportunity to steal a few minutes with him without interruption. The warmth of his arm seeps through your coat as you lean against the railing next to him. 

He chuckles softly, the corners of his eyes wrinkling in that way that makes your knees weak. 

“Nah, just needed a break from all the noise.”

You hum softly. Joel’s tolerance for people was getting better but you knew he had his limits. The full moon in the night sky made the snow on the ground almost sparkle. The muffled sounds of music trickle out from behind the closed barn doors. It’s not quite loud enough to make out the lyrics, but you can hear the beat and its slow dancing music. This is perfect. You nudge Joel with your shoulder and smirk. 

“I was hoping I’d get one dance with you before the night is over.”

Joel swallows hard. Holding you close was going to make him think about things he shouldn’t be thinking about right now. Besides, he hasn’t slow danced with anyone in a very long time, he’s not even sure he remembers how. 

“Sorry, darlin’, I’m not much of a dancer…” he mumbles. “I’m probably terrible at it.”

Your brow furrows, not believing that for one second. You know he has rhythm, he plays the guitar. 

“Prove it.”

His eyes go wide, momentarily stunned at words.

“E-Excuse me?” he stammers. 

You eyes gleam with mischief as you smirk at him. Maybe he was a terrible dancer but you were willing to take that chance. 

“I said, Prove. It.” You repeated, emphasizing the ‘p’ and the ‘t’. “I wanna see what a terrible dancer you are, Joel Miller.”

He huffed a laugh and narrowed his eyes. 

“You asked for it.” he grumbled. “No cryin’ when I step all over your pretty shoes.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you close. The second you started swaying to the beat, the rest of the world disappeared; all that mattered was this moment. His large hands splayed across your back, one thumb gently rubbing up and down against the small of your back. The body heat is just radiating off him and you wonder how he stays so warm all of the time. You melt into his arms and rest your head on his shoulder. You find yourself envisioning nights like this in front of the fireplace, slow dancing to the music in your head after Ellie is fast asleep. You close your eyes to clear those thoughts, you’re getting ahead of yourself now; you need to just relax and enjoy the moment for what it is. 

Something cold and wet tickles your cheek and you open your eyes to see tiny flakes falling from the sky. You giggle softly as a snowflake lands on your nose. This couldn’t be more perfect. Joel’s hands start to drift lower as you raise you head to look at him. The snow is beginning to collect in his hair and the sight takes your breath away. 

“I never took you for a liar, Joel Miller.” you teased. 

“A liar?”

His left brow arches and he looks at you, blinking a few times. 

“Mmm hmm. You said you were a terrible dancer and your not.”

A throaty chuckle reaches your ears and he tugs you even closer. 

“I didn’t lie, darlin’” he whispered softly. “I said I’d ‘probably’ be terrible at it. It’s been a hell of a long time since I danced with someone, especially someone as beautiful as you.”

Your cheeks flush, and not just from the chill in the air. He had you on that technicality. This man made you feel like a teenage girl again and a nervous laugh trickles from your lips. 

“I’m glad I was the one who made you dance again.”

“Me too.”

A calloused thumb brushed a flake from your cheeks and his lips slowly descended on yours. You didn’t expect him to kiss you out in the open like this and you softly gasp. Joel takes advantage of your parted lips and deepens the kiss, his soft tongue slipping gently into your mouth. The kiss wasn’t rushed or passionate; it was slow and  honest, like it was meant to happen at this exact moment. 

You smile when you pull away. This was like a scene from one of those cheesy Hallmark movies, and you loved every minute of it. 

The barn door creaks open and the two of you separate, putting enough distance between you so no one would ask any questions. Tommy’s head peaks around and looks at the both of you for a moment. 

“Hey, I think the little kiddo is getting tuckered out.”

You sigh softly. You completely forgot about the time. Ellie had to be exhausted from all the dancing and playing with her friends. A mother’s job is never done. This moment would have to be on hold for the time being. 

“I’ll be right in.” you tell Tommy. 

You back even further away from Joel and turn to head back into the barn. You shoot him an apologetic glance over your shoulder as you open the barn door and slip inside. 

You were about to walk back towards the party when you noticed Joel coming towards you. He took your hand and pulled you with him with a whispered come with me and you did. 

He took you back to his house, pushing you against the closed door and kissed you. With a gasp your lips parted for him, your hands flying up into his hair, Joel deepening the kiss. 

"I want you," he mumbled, kissing down your jaw. 

"I want you so much, please let me make you feel good," he almost begged and you nodded. 

„Please, Joel," you whispered and he kissed you again, hands pushing up the skirt of your dress, wrapping one of your legs behind him and oh, you could feel him already hard against your thigh. 

You let your head fall against the door as he kissed down your neck, your hands in his hair. You could feel one of his hands slowly running up your thigh and you were sure you stopped breathing the moment the back of his fingers brushed over your panties. 

He hummed. 

„Need you in my bed. Knees are gonna be fucked if I’ll do what I wanna do right now,“ he mumbled against your skin and you chuckled. 

„Take me to bed then,“ you whispered.

Christmas morning was spend in the Miller’s house. Tommy had invited Maria and you and Ellie hadn’t even been asked, more like expected there. Joel had made pancakes while Ellie had unwrapped her presents. 

It was a great day where you felt like part of a family. 

Something you haven’t had in a long time. 

It was also spend using every moment nobody was watching or in another room making out with Joel. You felt like a teenager, trying to hide from the parents and you loved it. 

Joel and you had decided to not tell everyone right away. Not because he didn’t want to tell anyone, but more because of what his brother and you daughter would come up with to get the two of you together. 

And oh did they try. 

Your car broke down on the street leading to the farm, but too far out to walk back. When of course Joel got there to check her car, he found that someone had messed with the battery. 

The things Joel did to you on the backseat of his truck while you waited for the battery to charge would leave you daydreaming for days. 

It was on the same day that the heat at the apartment went out and Ellie and you had to have a sleepover at the main house with Tommy, of course, spending the night at Maria’s, leaving you and Joel to spend the night alone in his bed once Ellie was asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, when the house was still asleep to Joel going down on you, you found yourself hoping that this could be how the future looked like. 

The meddling continued and Joel and you almost looked forward to having some time alone to yourselves every single day, while the people who tried to set you up were none the wiser. 

It was on New Years Eve, the countdown shouted down from the people both Joel and you loved most that he held you and kissed you in front of them, wishing you a Happy New Year while the people around you cheered loudly. Most of them surprised, but all of them happy that maybe, just maybe you both found your happily ever after. 

[writtenbyan-aries]

POOKIE WHEN ARE WE GETTING SOME MORE COLBY FICS IM DYINGGGGG (in all seriousness I'm not tryna rush you but pleaseeee just think about writing some more soon it's been like a month I've already re-read them all like 3 times 😭🤚)

I am thankful you chose to re-read my stuff, but here!! Here’s some new Colby smut 🖤

DISCLAIMER: This fanfiction is going to contain reader cheating on boyfriend with Colby. I do not condone cheating, it’s horrible. This is strictly for fanfiction entertainment purposes only!!

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, cheating, flirting, mentions of people being drunk, kissing, hair pulling, unprotected sex, general filth

Word Count: 1.3k | unedited

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

“Alright.” You sighed as you help up the weight of Leo, your beyond plastered boyfriend, “Come on, just a few more steps, okay?”

Leo groans, mumbling some incoherent words as he slowly lifts his legs onto each step.

“Okay, just-“ you huff, “Lean.. up against, yeah.” You push him back against the wall by the door and fumble to quickly get the house key attached to his key ring.

You drop them and Leo leans forward, “I’ll get’em.”

He leans too far and about knocks you both off of the porch, but the banister saves you from going back, “Leo, stand back up. I have to un-“

The door open and Colby, Leo’s roommate walks out, “I thought I heard something out here, what’s-“

You cut him off, pushing Leo up to stand, “He’s wasted. Again.”

Leo stumbles backwards, “You.. say, that. Like it’s a ba-“ he hiccups, “Bad things..”

Colby grabs him before he can move back any further, “Alright, man. Let’s get you upstairs to your bed, yeah?” Colby glances at you and you shake your head, “I’ll be in. I just-“

“Oh come on! Y/n, cheer up! It’s a p-party!” Leo slurs, “Come to bed with me!”

“I’ll.. be there in a second. I’m going to get you some water and medicine for in the morning.” You walk in behind them and go straight for the kitchen.

Colby laughs as he watches Leo stumble up the steps, “C’mon man. You gotta lift-“ he laughs, “Lifts your legs, dude. There ya go.”

You shake your head, laughing slightly as you open the fridge door. You grab two bottles of water, turning around to set them on the counter before you close the door.

You walk over to the medicine cabinet and reach up to grab the Tylenol. Your fingers push it back and you let out a frustrated sigh as you drop down from your tip toes.

“Need some help?”

Colby startles you for a second, “Oh, um. Yeah.” You laugh quietly, “You scared me. Figured you’d be up there for a little.”

“I’m pretty sure he was asleep before he even hit the bed.” Colby walks over and reaches up, big body right next to yours as he reaches up, “Here you go.”

You take the bottle and set it down, “Thanks.”

He leans against the counter, his hand resting on top, “I don’t..” he sighs, “Stop me if I cross a line, but.. isn’t this his fourth night in a row getting wasted like this? I mean I’m not trying to judge.. or anything, but-“

“Yeah.” You cut him off, scoffing as you lay a hand on your forehead, “Yeah.”

Colby stays silent and you take a deep breath, looking over at him, “I’ve tried talking to him.. I-I- I’ve tried telling him that drinking isn’t-“ you shake your head, “Colby.” Your voice breaks, “What.. what do I do?”

He tilts his head, raising his brows as he shrugs, “Whatever you want, y/n. I don’t think-“

“No, Colby. Please. I need someone to tell me something.” You turn towards him and he turns his head towards you, staring at you while he thinks.

“Please.” Your voice is a whisper and Colby reaches up, brushing hair from your face, “I think someone out there can treat you better, someone who has gotten to know you without actually being with you.”

He steps closer, “I think I could treat you better than he can.” He bends down, lifting you up onto the counter, and it’s game over.

His lips are on yours.

Your hands sliding his shirt up his body.

His hands working to pull your shorts down as you move your hips side to side.

“You woke up at three in the morning, might as well make it worth it, yeah?” Colby mumbles as he leans back, discarding his shirt to the floor.

“Just..” you pull him back in, kissing him as you spread your legs and push his sweats down, “Shut up and fuck me.”

He smirks and pulls up into the edge of the counter, his lips on yours as he pulls your panties to the side and thrusts into you.

You throw your head back, one arm around his neck, your other hand flat on the countertop next to you.

“Oh my-“ you lay your forehead against his chest, biting down onto your lip as he thrusts roughly into you.

“Look at me, look at me.” Colby groans, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back, “You deserve so much better than what you’re getting. You hear me?”

You nod, mouth open as your eyes roll back.

“Words, baby.” Colby wraps your hair around his head, gaining full control. You whimper, eyes opening to look at him, “I deserve so much better.”

You swallow, “You can be my better.”

“I’ll kick him out tomorrow.” Colby bites down on his lip, watching as your face twists and turns with the best pleasure you’ve ever received, “Fuck, you are so beautiful.”

You gasp, your walls clenching around him as you reach the edge, “F-fuck, Colby. Colby.” Your nails dig into his skin, creating red trails as they drag across his shoulders, “Y-yes!”

Colby’s lips press against yours as he tries to silence your moans, “quiet, princess.”

“He’s passed out. Probably wouldn’t give a fuck anyway.” You pant, “Fuck, Colby. I-I’m-“ you gasp, nails digging into his skin as you finally spill over into that euphoric feeling that you’ve been seeking.

“That’s it, baby. Let go for me. I got you.” Colby whispers, “Fuck, y-you- fuck.” He pulls out, spilling his cum onto your thigh, “Shit, shit.”

You rest your head back against the closed cupboards, “That..” you laugh slightly, “I can’t believe that just happened.”

Colby fixes his sweats and walks away for a second.

You lay a hand over your mouth, tears welling up in your eyes, “That..” you take a deep breath, laughing away the tears, “Oh fuck.”

Colby steps towards you, wiping off your leg with a towel, “Sorry if I-“

“No, oh god no.” You look up at him, “I don’t..” you take a deep breath, “I don’t regret this, I just.. the timing.. of it..”

He nods, a small smile playing on his lips, “Yeah, no, I completely get it. But I’m sorry if I made you feel-“

“Colby.” You cut him off, “You have nothing to be sorry for, you want to know why?”

He looks up at you, “Tell me, baby.”

You smirk, tilting your head, “Because you have treated me better in these last few months than Leo has. Everytime I’ve hung out here, you were always the one to offer me a drink or food or whatever the case may be.”

“Leo is an immature little boy and I’m just glad we both realized what kind of person he is before he fucked over either one of us over.” He tucks hair behind your ear and kisses your forehead, “Sleep on the couch tonight. I don’t want you anywhere near him.”

You nod, “Already planned on it, but thank you.” You smirk and slip down off the counter, bending down to grab your shorts and fix your panties, “I’m just.. scared how he’ll react you know.”

Colby nods, “I’ll be there, I mean, if you want me to be.”

You nod, “Please, at least hide upstairs or something? I’ll tell him you went out with Sam or.. whatever.”

Colby fights back a smile and you tilt your head, “What?”

He shakes his head, “Nothing, nothing, I just..” he walks over, wrapping his arms around you, “Just thinking about after he leaves, how much sex we’re going to have.”

You laugh, “Colby.”

“What? Celebration sex, ya know?”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

I feel like this kinda sucked but aw well. Let me know what you think! I love you all so much. Thanks for reading and I’ll catch you in the next one! 🖤

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[leahsfavefics]

Midnight

Title: Midnight

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (f)

Rating/genre: m (18+) fluff, smut

Word Count: 2,087

Posting Date: Sept 10, 2024

Summary: When menstrual cramps wake you in the night, your boyfriend decides to heal you in his own special way

NSFW Warnings: Oral (F), multiple orgasms, fingering, neck kisses

Author's Note: I wrote this all in one go and did not edit it, so forgive me for any errors!

A dull ache in your lower abdomen pulls you from a deep and restful sleep. Curling up, you fight a groan, not wanting to wake your boyfriend. He's sleeping soundly beside you, snoring ever so softly and not sprawling onto your side of the bed for once. He's usually one to toss and turn, even accidentally elbowing you in the nose once shortly after moving in together. When he woke and realized, he was horrified of course, terrified that he'd hurt you or upset you, even after you dissolved into laughter whilst wiggling your nose to get all the feeling back.

He was still tonight though, you were the one tossing and turning. You took a deep breath through your nose and blew it out slowly, trying to somewhat minimize the pain with your breath. Unfortunately, mother nature was not going down without a fight. Gently, you peeled back the blanket and slid out of bed, making as little noise as possible. You padded to the kitchen softly, popping two tylenols into your mouth before downing a glass of water. You pushed a hand against your stomach, the pain still twisting your insides like a knife. At least now you just had to wait for the meds to kick in. However long that would take.

You crept back into your bedroom and found Jungkook still sleeping. though he'd moved and had thrown his arm across your usual spot. You lifted the blanket, his tattooed arm along with it, and climbed back into bed beneath them, turning on your side so his arm was slung around your waist with your back to his chest.

You tried to stay like that. You really did. But the cramps were making you restless, and you couldn't get comfortable to save your life. You tried laying on your back, your stomach, facing Jungkook, turning back away. After a few minutes of your restlessness you heard his voice in your ear.

"Baby," it was a soft mumble, nothing more, so quiet that you almost wondered if he was talking in his sleep. That theory was shattered when he spoke again. "What's going on?"

You froze, cringing as you realized you'd woke him. "I'm sorry. Go back to sleep."

"Mmmm, can't," he replied, his lips at your throat as he nuzzled closer. There was nothing sexual about it, he was just seeking out your scent, trying to get comfortable. "Not if you keep tossing and turning like that."

"I'm sorry," you said again. "I have cramps, but I took some meds already. Just waiting for them to kick in and then hopefully I will be able to get back to sleep."

"I thought you didn't get a period anymore? IUD?"

"I don't, but sometimes the symptoms are still a bitch."

He didn't answer for a while, and you relaxed thinking he'd drifted back to sleep all on his own. Finally, he spoke again, his lips now at your ear, close enough that they brushed the shell of your ear and sent tingles down your spine. "You know, they say that an orgasm helps relieve cramps."

You huffed out a laugh in response. "Shut up."

"I'm serious."

You rolled your eyes, even though it was dark and you were facing away from him. "You just woke up with a hard on and want to get your dick wet."

"Baby!" he scoffed. "Not true, I wouldn't do that when you just told me you're in pain. Here, feel. Soft as dough." Grabbing your hand, he placed it against his groin to prove that he was telling the truth.

"That's a gross metaphor," you said, pulling your hand back. "And the answer is no. You have to get up so early for that music video shoot or photoshoot or whatever it is. I'm not going to keep you up any later."

"Hmm," he settled in closer, placing one hand on your hip and rubbing circles with his thumb. His hand began to move down your leg, and around until his fingers traced where your legs pressed together. "I think it will be a performance booster. I'll have that afterglow, you know?"

"Jungkook!" You gasped, turning to face him as he laughed. "That really is your favorite word now isn't it?"

He shrugged, a carnal grin on his face. "What can I say? It's nice to be able to put a word to something I'm so familiar with because I see it so often."

You had no words, so you just laughed against his chest. "I'm serious, though, y/n," he continued, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before moving lower, until his mouth was at your neck. "If you keep tossing and turning I'm not going to get much sleep regardless. You might as well let me help you out here."

His tongue darted out against the hollow of your neck, making you shiver and crumbling your remaining resolve. "Fine," you said. "But make it quick."

He deepened the kisses against your neck, alternating between sucking hard and licking gently, while he pushed your legs apart and slipped his tattooed fingers inside your panties.

"You're already wet, baby," he groaned against your collarbone. You merely shuddered in response as he rolled slick fingers against your clit. Warmth filled your body, spreading out from your core and chasing away the shadows of the pain. Your core was on fire, pulsating from his touch as his fingers whirled in quick circles over your swollen clit. "Can I have a taste?" he murmured.

You nodded frantically before realizing his face was buried between your breasts and he couldn't see. "Yes. Please," you whimpered.

He moved down your body at once, peeling off your underwear and audibly sighing in relief once he was eye level with your bare, sopping cunt. "There you are, baby," he said, closing his eyes and inhaling. This worshipping of your sex used to make you feel embarrassed when you first started sleeping together, exposed. But over the years you've come to appreciate how vocal he is about his attraction to you.

When he leaned in and placed that first gentle lick against your clit, your eyes fluttered shut, head collapsing against the pillow with a moan. He moved lower, running his tongue around the perimeter of your hole before darting inside and fucking you with it while his nose bumped against your clit.

"Jesus Christ Jungkook, don't stop," you said, fisting his long black locks between your fingers as you bucked against his face. His tongue slipped out, and you were about to complain when he dipped lower, tracing your asshole before placing the tip of his tongue firmly against it and running it up the length of your sex until finishing at your clit.

"Do you want fingers?" he asked, mouth full of your pussy.

"I just want to come," you whined, too delirious to answer the question properly.

He chuckled, and it vibrated against you. You pushed your pussy harder against his face, enough that he pinned you to the bed with a firm hand. "Stay," he said, no room for argument in his tone. You shuddered again, feeling wetness gush from you as he took charge.

He ran his fingers over your sex, playing with your slick until two fingers were soaked. After what felt like an eon, he finally slipped them inside you. You tensed at once as he began to pump in and out, returning his mouth to your clit and sucking. "Close," you whimpered. "Close!"

He didn't answer, but his eyes flickered shut at your taste and he hummed, sending you firmly over the edge. Your toes curled as your orgasm slammed into you, tensing every muscle in your body until you came apart in shuddering waves.

Your chest heaved as you came back down to earth, blinking your eyes open. Jungkook was resting his cheek against your thigh, smiling up at you with a love drunk expression on his face. "Better?" he asked, his eyes sleepy and the lower half of his face glistening with your wetness.

Mentally cataloguing your body, you searched for the cramps that had been plaguing you until so recently. "Much better," you answered with a smile.

"Good, then go to sleep. I'll take care of this and get cleaned up and then I'll join you," he began to climb out of bed, his erection clearly fighting at the seams of his briefs.

"That's silly, just fuck me," you said, catching his arm and pulling him back towards you.

"You need to sleep," he answered, smoothing your hair and pressing a kiss to your lips. His lips were sweet with your own taste, and it made you want him even more.

"I can taste myself on you," you murmured. You slipped a hand inside his briefs, caressing his length as you darted your tongue out to taste yourself again. It was his turn to shudder, eyes fluttering shut.

"Alright," he said. "You win. But like you said earlier, make it quick. We both need to sleep."

"Just cum fast, then it will be quick," you answered, shoving his briefs down to get to his cock. You got them as far as his knees before he brushed your hands away, laughing and standing to kick them fully off.

He crawled back into bed beside you, guiding you onto your side and pressing his chest to your back, so similar to the position you'd been sleeping in earlier. Until he grabbed one knee, lifting your leg up with one hand while he guided his dick until your cunt with the other. He eased in, moaning as your pussy swallowed him to the hilt. Biting down on your shoulder, he began to pick up the pace.

The hand holding your knee traced down along the inside of your thigh until it reached your apex. You jumped as he placed his fingers against your clit, still sensitive from your earlier orgasm. Each press of his thick cock inside you had your body priming for the next release.

"You're going to need to come soon, baby," Jungkook moaned against your neck. "Eating you turned me on so much, I'm already holding back."

You nodded, grinding against him as he pounded into you from behind while his fingers swirled against you, chasing that high. Mere moments went by before the tsunami of pleasure overtook you once again, this time sweeping Jungkook away as well. You cried out his name while he grunted, rhythm growing sporadic as he emptied himself into you until he finally stilled.

You laid there for a moment, both trying to catch your breath and fight off the incoming desire to sleep. As your eyes began to flutter shut, satiated at last, you realized it was a losing battle. But, you knew you needed to get cleaned up or you'd hate yourself when you saw the sheets in the morning. Or, worst case scenario, got a UTI. You peeled yourself away from Jungkook, who's skin was sticking to yours with rapidly drying sweat.

"Uh uh," he tsked. "Lay back down. Just go to sleep."

"I have to get cleaned up," you protested.

"I'll take care of it," he said, hopping out of bed nimbly. You shrugged and listened, figuring there was no point in you both leaving the comfort of the bed if he was promising to take care of you.

A minute went by and you guessed he was cleaning himself off as well, before he finally returned with a damp wash cloth. He crawled back into bed, pressing a kiss to your sweaty brow before reaching between your legs with the cloth.

He brushed against your clit on accident and you jerked away, feeling very sensitive and completely sexed out. "Careful," you whined.

"Sorry, sorry," he whispered, brushing against you more carefully to clean you up. When he was finished, he tossed the wash rag across the room towards the closet, eliciting a noise of protest from you. "It's fine. I'll grab it in the morning when I'm up. That's only like three hours from now anyway."

You sank back into the pillow, too satiated and exhausted to complain. "Thank you," you said, drifting back to sleep already, pain free and happy.

He climbed back into bed beside you and you rolled over, burying your face in his wide, muscled chest. You pressed a kiss over the spot that contained his heart as he slung an arm over you. "Anything for you, y/n."

© 2024 leahsfavefics Do not copy or repost without permission.

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed :)

[sethsclearwater]

Hey girl,, you've been going OFF on the smut lately and I honestly love it but imma be honest,I miss the fluff images😭 so I was wondering if you could write one where Paul is just being EXTRA protective and all with the reader after she gave birth? Just a lot of fluff and a super protective Paul,, love ya ❤️❤️

"princess," paul let out a heavy sigh, quickly stepping over to you and gently pushing your shoulders back down onto the bed so you'd lay back down.

you let out a huff, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked up at your imprinter, "sue said you should be resting for at least a week," he explained, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to you and gently stroking his hand up and down your arm soothingly as he watched your disgruntled expression.

you sucked in a breath before responding, "i think i can go grab our baby paul," you said with a soft laugh, watching as he rolled his eyes but cracked a small smile at your comment nonetheless.

"i'll go grab him, yea? you should stay here," he suggested and you rolled your eyes again, already knowing there was no way he was letting you get up unless it was absolutely necessary.

you huffed but conceded, giving him a small nod which had him smiling as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your forehead before he was getting up to go grab your baby from his nursery.

within a few moments, paul returned carrying your baby who was quietly cooing up at his dad. you smiled as you saw the two of them, allowing paul to gently hand you your baby so you could cradle him while he came to sit down next to you in bed, "hi baby," you cooed, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, "i missed you," you added with a giggle, smiling when your baby just continued watching you in complete wonder.

"did such a good job," paul murmured after a moment when you curled into his side, referencing your labor the day prior. you let out a breathy laugh, shaking your head.

"doesn't feel like it," you responded, voice barely above a whisper but paul could easily hear the playful tone in your voice.

he rolled his eyes, pressing his lips to your hair, "promise you did such a good job," he reiterated, wrapping his arm around you so he could gently squeeze your hip, "even though you said you weren't gonna let me anywhere near you ever again," he added, both of you letting out laughs at the memory of you completely losing it on paul when you started pushing.

"did you take some more tylenol yet?" he asked softly after a moment of silence passed between the two of you. you hummed and nodded in response to him, "is it helping?" he asked, patiently waiting for you to respond as he watched you take in your baby who had quickly fallen asleep in your arms.

"not really," you murmured before peeking up at him, "still feel like i got hit by a bus," you added, both you and paul letting out quiet laughs at your comparison.

"'m sorry princess," paul murmured, pressing his lips to your temple for a moment, "you've got a lifetime supply of those padsicles in the freezer if you want another one," he added and you giggled, shaking your head.

"maybe in a little bit," you whispered, leaning up a bit to press a soft kiss to his lips, "thanks for taking care of me," you added and paul smiled a bit, cupping your jaw with his free hand as you two took in each other for a moment.

"nothing i'd rather be doing," he responded and you beamed up at him, pressing another soft kiss to his lips, happy to know you now had both your boys with you.

[chosos-lesbo]

sweet angel

pairing: choso x reader

synopsis: (continuation of this smau) choso is struggling, and you come to his aid.

word count: <1k

warnings: a lot of crying, probably cringe lmao

a/n: i’m gonna be honest…i kind of hate this, but i didn’t want to keep everyone waiting 😅 so i’ll work on revising later, but for the time being, it is what it is and ain’t what it ain’t lol. also, the pic is from pinterest 🙂‍↕️

you knocked on the door to choso’s apartment, before testing the handle. he did unlock the door like you had asked.

“it’s me, cho!” you shout, taking a short step inside, before turning to shut and lock the door. when you rounded back to walk into the living room, you’re met with choso standing but a foot away. “oh my god!”

his tear stained cheeks began to get wet with fresh tears, as you stand with your hand over your heart. “i’m sorry, baby. you scared the crap outta me,” you say, closing the distance by pulling him into a hug.

his arms circle tightly around your waist, as one of your hands is holding his head to your neck and the other rubbing soothing circles on his back. you can feel his breaths become more shallow as his hands ball in fists clutching your shirt.

“it’s okay, let it all out,” you whisper into his hair, and that was all the signal he needed to stop silencing his cries. tears burned at your eyes, his broken sobs weighing heavily on your heart.

it felt like an eternity that you stood in each other’s arms, before his hands let go of your shirt. his hands smoothed along your hips, as you loosened your hold on him, moving your hands to the top of his shoulders.

“m-my head hurts,” he stutters, trying to catch his breath.

“poor baby,” you pout, rubbing his shoulder, hand grazing his arm as you find his. you squeeze his hand twice before interlocking your fingers. “let’s get you some water and medicine, and we can go to bed.”

he sniffles, nodding gently as he lets you guide him. it’s a short trip to the kitchen, reaching to the drying rack next to the sink to get a glass. you go to let go of his hand, so you can turn on the faucet, only for his grip to tighten. instead, he raises his own free hand to turn it on for you.

you put the cup under the running faucet, and he turns the water off just in time before it overflowed. you set the full glass on the counter and reach in the cabinet to grab the tylenol. you hold it out by the lid, waiting for choso’s hand to assist again.

once choso takes the medicine and finishes off the glass of water, you lead him to his bedroom. it isn’t until he goes to climb in bed that he finally lets go of your hand, allowing you to crawl in after him.

you make yourself comfortable on your back before letting him lay his head on your chest. you pull his hair out of the bun he had it in, combing it down with your fingers.

“i’m sorry,” he mumbles into your shirt, and you could feel the fresh tears wetting your shirt again.

“what are you apologizing for, baby?”

“y-you shou-shouldn’t have had t-to come,” he finally manages to say, and the sadness in his voice shattered your already broken heart.

“you didn’t ask me to, did you?” you question, and he responds by shaking his head no. “so that means i came here because i wanted to. i couldn’t let my sweet angel be alone when he was feeling like this.”

your hand never stopped combing the length of his hair, as you tried to find the right words. while it might not change his mind, something to at least give him enough peace to sleep through the night.

“i am so thankful for each and every day that i get to spend with you. and i know that yuuji loves having you around, especially because you’ll watch those stupid human earthworm movies with him,” you laugh, and you can hear his mumbled disagreement.

“they’re actually pretty good, when you think about it.”

“and it’s stuff like that, choso, that shows you’re a good person. you take the time to find the good in the bad, and you think about others before yourself. but it’s okay, in some instances to be selfish.

“you don’t ever have to forgive ken-jackass,” you get a wet laugh from choso, which works as a glue for your broken heart. “but i hope that one day, you’ll be able to forgive yourself. we can’t change what’s already happened, and quite frankly, i wouldn’t want to. and if that makes me a bad person, so be it.”

“b-but you’re not a bad person,” choso pouts, moving up to his elbows to look you in the eyes. his tears have been reduced to the occasional sniffle, which is a good sign.

“and neither are you,” you say with a finality, cupping his face. the pads of your thumbs dry his tears, tucking his hair behind his ear. you lean forward to place a kiss on his forehead before falling back on the pillows.

he follows after you, laying his head on your chest again, but this time he puts his hand under your shirt, just resting on the warm skin on your side. he, also, moves one thigh to rest on yours, effectively locking you in place (unless you attempted to move him, which you wouldn’t anyway).

“thank you, for everything.”

“of course, baby. and i meant every single word. i love you so, so much, my sweet angel.”

he picks his head up, just long enough to turn and press a short, sweet kiss to your lips, before laying back down. “i love you more,” he replies, and shortly after, you could hear his soft snoring.

at that, you could rest easy too.

tag: @chiefinvestigatoremma

[bumblesimagines]

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all. let's set some ground rules. so… how do we do this? Sarah Cameron

i just like having sex with you sometimes. that's all.

let's set some ground rules.

so… how do we do this?

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

and so the sequel becomes a holy trinity

Sarah Cameron was a pretty girl. Everyone knew it, whether they acknowledged it with awe, envy, or lust, everyone knew the Cameron genes worked like magic. The button nose, the full lips, the sun-kissed skin, the luscious hair that was a mix of blonde and brown strands, the dark brown eyes. The talk of the town, the pretty princess of Figure Eight, the beloved darling of the Cameron family. Sarah Cameron had no business being in the Cut. Hell, she had no business hanging out with JJ's troublemaking friends. She had no business seeking him out, and no business lying in the bed of a Maybank. Funny how the world worked, (Y/N) thought. 

Maybanks and Camerons weren't supposed to mix. They were from two different worlds. And yet...

Between the altercation between JJ and their father and Barry's rage over being jumped and robbed, (Y/N) had an ever-growing headache. He found himself glad JJ had beaten their father into near silence and fucked off before (Y/N) could get home, although he'd left him to patch their father up and deal with quiet, angered mutterings. His father luckily seemed either too exhausted or too drunk to bother him much, leaving him to spend his free day in his room listening to music while he gathered the will to get a Tylenol and step out into the world. He could use a drink or two or three. Maybe he'd stop by a bar and listen to Barracuda Mike's tales about his international dealings until the alcohol knocked him unconscious. 

Following in Daddy Dearest's footsteps. Typical.

His father staggered into the doorway, slamming his fist twice against the old wooden door with a sneer. (Y/N)'s heart skipped a beat and he tentatively paused the music, eyeing the subtle way his father swayed from side to side. Nobody could make him revert to childhood like Luke did, back when he'd cradle a crying JJ while JJ's mom and Luke got into screaming matches over one thing or the other. "Mind tellin' me why the hell there's a Cameron standin' on our goddamn porch? I don't want no problems with Ward, (Y/N)." 

"Jesus," (Y/N) exhaled, pulling the earbuds from his ears and standing up. "Which Cameron, Dad? The idiot or the chick?"

"The chick." Fuckin' Camerons. Fuckin' Sarah. "If Ward catches wind of his little girl strutting aroun' here half-naked-"

"What are you even talking about?" (Y/N) tossed his phone aside and sucked his teeth, slipping past his father and hearing those familiar heavy footsteps follow him to the front door. Sure enough, there stood Sarah Cameron, her head tilted out toward the marsh and arms folded over her bare stomach. Christ. 

"I want no problems. Understood, boy?" Luke hissed in his ear, moving past him and sparing the blonde a glance before he walked toward his truck. (Y/N) inhaled deeply and ran a hand over his face, finding relief in the fact his father coincidentally needed to head into town under the guise of an errand, when they both knew Luke only ran 'errands' when he needed a hit of something strong. Probably needed something to take his mind off the bruises on his face. 

"I shouldn't have to explain why showing up here, on the Cut, dressed in a bikini top and shorts is a shit idea, Sarah." 

"I was going to the beach with some- whatever, it doesn't matter. I... I wanted to talk about the other day, alright? You know, when you basically yelled at me-" 

"Yeah, yeah, okay. Next time, instead of showing up, you get my number from one of the Pogues and you text me, alright? The guys my dad hangs out with call girls like you jailbait, Sarah. They're sleazy fucks who couldn't care less about where you come from." (Y/N) huffed, but regardless, he pushed the front door open enough for her to step inside, eyes following the cloud of dust left behind by his father's truck as it sped down the road. 

The Maybank's home was hardly anything to look at but (Y/N) managed to keep it clean, at least whenever Hurricane Luke didn't pass through. The general upkeep, and frankly everything else, fell on his shoulders with JJ gone half the time and Luke too intoxicated to care about the world around him. Just about every piece of furniture was old, passed down from Maybank to Maybank without so much as a repair or restoration. At the very least, trying to fix the broken things at a young age had given him some pretty decent skills. He couldn't do much about the holes in the walls and doors, though. 

"It's my day off, Sarah. I'd like to spend it without stressing over any of the bullshit that's been going on the past couple of days, 'kay? Say your piece and go off with your boytoy, princess. I want to have a beer in hand by noon so make it quick." (Y/N) sat back on the armrest of the worn couch, crossing his arms and watching the girl study her surroundings. Sarah slipped her tote bag off her shoulder and set it on another seat, leaning back against the barely used dining table. Great. Definitely wasn't going to be quick.

"I didn't appreciate you getting in my face, for starters. It was rude and unnecessary and I wasn't even given a chance to explain our side of the story. We found the gold in the Crain house and we went to your job thinking you were there. You weren't, obviously. The old lady and Barry were and they set us up. Barry held us at gunpoint and tried robbing us. We defended ourselves. JJ went rogue and robbed Barry. We told him not to." Sarah kept her arms crossed as she spoke, finishing with a light shrug and slightly jutted lips. "I'm not a thief and I'm not a liar, either. I wanted to set the story straight." 

"You could've found diamonds or emeralds or rubies in that old ass house, and I still would've been pissed about this treasure hunt continuing. Big John is dead and you know how he died? Treasure hunting. John B wants to die like his dad? Fine by me. I stopped liking him a long time ago. But JJ? The idiot that I spent my whole life raising? I'm gonna make sure that little shit dies of old age. If you want to merrily march into danger with Routledge, fine, go for it. Keep my brother out of it."

"Why do you keep bringing JB up as if I like him? I already told you John B isn't my boyfriend. He's my friend, and yes, I care about him. I-I want to see him happy and that's why I'm helping him but-"

"Is that the only reason you're helping him?" (Y/N) asked, rising from the armrest and taking slow steps toward the blonde. Her brows lifted slightly and her lips twitched, slowly curling upward into that little smile despite how much she tried resisting it. She looked away from him defiantly and clicked her tongue, eyes trailing back toward him.

"Are you suggesting I became friends with John B just to see you? Quite the ego you've got, Maybank. I said I liked you, not that I'm obsessed with you." Her voice softened, laced with playfulness and a hint of mischief, her previous irritation (if she'd even been irritated to begin with) long gone. 

"I was gonna say you wanted to piss off Carrera but if that's the first thing that came to mind..." He trailed off, hearing her scoff in soft disbelief before she swatted at his shoulder halfheartedly. She rolled her eyes and pursed her lips slightly, peering up at him through her dark lashes. 

"You're a dick." She murmured, not nearly as offended as the last time she'd uttered those words.

"Yeah," He dipped down slightly, hands finding the back of her thighs and fingers digging into the warm plushness of her skin. Her hands landed on his shoulders, soft giggles leaving her as he lifted her onto the table, the wood creaking softly under the added weight. One hand slid up from his shoulder and curled around his neck, the tip of her nails slightly scraping against his skin. Sarah's skin flushed. "And the sky's blue."

"But what else is new, right?" Her lips stretched out into a smile before she leaned in, pressing them against his as his hands moved from her thighs to her hips, half his palms pressing against her skin and the other half against her denim shorts. He pulled her closer until she'd gone flush against him, her legs wrapping loosely around him. Her arm curled around his shoulder and her head tilted to the side, a muffled, flustered giggle leaving her when his teeth lightly dug into her bottom lip. His hand moved and pressed flat against her exposed back, trailing upward until his fingers found the bottom straps of the olive green bikini. With one swift tug, they went undone. 

There was a dizzying aspect to making out with a Cameron, he'd come to realize. Maybe it was the knowledge that her father could be considered one of the most influential men on the island or that his life could change for better or worse with just a word from her. It was an intoxicating feeling if he had to be honest. Sarah seemed to feel similarly considering her fingers dug into him and pulled him as close as possible, her breath escaping her in soft pants. She leaned back briefly and pulled her hands away, dipping them under her hair and undoing the straps keeping the bikini on her. She tossed it aside blindly and mushed their lips together again, arms coiling around him and body slightly lifting itself onto him. His hands returned to her thighs and he lifted her again, letting muscle memory kick in as he found his way back to his bedroom.

He really needed to stop hanging out with the Pogues. They were messing with his judgment.

At the very least, he'd spent his free day doing something fun, even if regret began to dig into his back. He was a Maybank. He lived up to the asshole playboy part of his family's reputation 'cause there was nothing better than messing around to take the stress off, but he never enjoyed toying with someone's heart. He'd made a rule in middle school after his first heartbreak to never knowingly get involved with anyone who actually liked him. The first time with Sarah hadn't broken that rule but now... 

"Can I ask what we are or will that ruin your mood?" Sarah's voice piped up, her lips dragging lightly over his shoulder. His fingertip ran up and down her spine, feeling the goosebumps along her skin while he stared at the ceiling. It felt grounding to have weight pressing him against the bed, even if it was Sarah Cameron of all people. 

"I just like having sex with you sometimes. That's all." He answered and she shifted, hands planting themselves on either side of his head and body lifting itself up slightly. Her hair tumbled down her shoulders, the ends tickling his cheek. 

"Sometimes?" She repeated with an arched brow. "You want to do this more often?"

"You're not bad for a virgin." He murmured. 

"Not one anymore, remember?" 

"Yeah, I remember." His hand moving along her back dipped under the covers that'd pooled around her hips, squeezing the skin hiding underneath. She flushed immediately and lowered herself back onto him, burying her warmed face in his neck and huffing. "You were pretty loud-"

"Okay." She groaned and lifted her head again, her reddened cheeks puffed out slightly. "So… how do we do this? Have you done this before?"

"Yeah, until she and I had a pregnancy scare. It was enough to make us block each other." (Y/N) answered, pushing himself up slightly and against the wall behind his pillows. Her legs tangled around his further, and her eyes widened at the revelation. "Let's set some ground rules. I'm going to give you my number and you'll use it whenever you want to see me. If anyone asks, it's just to keep in touch about JJ. Routledge probably thinks you've got the hots for him so I'd prefer if you didn't tell him or Thornton. Let those two go at each other. If you want to be spontaneous like today, you bring protection. I really don't need a little bastard running around right now." 

"I've been on birth control since freshmen year. Rose insisted on it."

"Good for you. My mom was on it when she decided to fuck around and find out and here I am now." He raised his brows at her. "Anyways... don't get your hopes up for anything, Sarah. I mean it. If you don't think you can handle it, that's fine. We're supposed to be having fun, not getting hurt by disappointment."

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH. 1

Pairing: Christian Grey x innocent!reader

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

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*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

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𝐈 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐋 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐈𝐍 the reflection of the mirror. Damn my hair—it just won’t behave! And also damn Isabella Clark for being ill and subjecting me to this ordeal. I should be studying for my final exams, which are next week, yet here I am trying to brush my hair into submission.

I must not sleep with it wet. I must not sleep with it wet. Reciting this mantra several times, I attempt, once more, to bring it under control with the brush. I roll my eyes in exasperation and gaze at my reflection in the mirror, you blow dry your hair into oblivion and with the help of some hairspray you managed to put your soft curls into place.

Now you finally look somewhat presentable.

Bella is my roommate, and she has chosen today of all days to succumb to the flu. Therefore, she cannot attend the interview she’d arranged to do, with some mega-industrialist tycoon I’ve never heard of, for the student newspaper. So I have been volunteered.

I have final exams to cram for, one essay to finish, and I’m supposed to be working this afternoon, but no–today I have to drive a hundred and sixty-five miles to downtown Seattle in order to meet the enigmatic CEO of Grey Enterprises Holdings Inc.

As an exceptional entrepreneur and major benefactor of our University, his time is extraordinarily precious—much more precious than mine–but he has granted Bella an interview. A real coup, she tells me.

Damn her extra-curricular activities.

Bella is huddled on the couch in the living room. “Y/N, I’m sorry. It took me nine months to get this interview. It will take another six to reschedule, and we’ll both have graduated by then. As the editor, I can’t blow this off. Please,” Bella begs me in her rasping, sore throat voice.

How does she do it? Even ill she looks gamine and gorgeous, strawberry blonde hair in place and green eyes bright, although now red-rimmed and runny. I ignore my pang of unwelcome sympathy.

“Of course I’ll go Bella. You should get back to bed. Would you like some Nyquil or Tylenol?”

“Nyquil, please. Here are the questions and my mini-disc recorder. Just press record here. Make notes, I’ll transcribe it all.”

“I know nothing about him,” I murmur, trying and failing to suppress my rising panic.

“The questions will see you through. Go. It’s a long drive. I don’t want you to be late.”

“Okay, I’m going. Get back to bed. I made you some soup to heat up later.” I stare at her fondly. Only for you, Bella, would I do this.

“I will. Good luck. And thanks Y/N/N – as usual, you’re my lifesaver.”

Gathering my things, I smile wryly at her, then head out the door to the car. I cannot believe I have let Bella talk me into this. But then Bella can talk anyone into anything.

She’ll make an exceptional journalist. She’s articulate, strong, persuasive, argumentative, beautiful – and she’s my dearest, dearest friend.

The roads are clear as I set off from Vancouver, WA toward Portland and the I-5. It’s early, and I don’t have to be in Seattle until two this afternoon. Fortunately, Bella’s lent me her sporty Mercedes CLK.

I’m not sure Wanda, my old VW Beetle, would make the journey in time. Oh, the Mercedes is a fun drive, and the miles slip away as I floor the pedal to the metal.

My destination is the headquarters of Mr. Grey’s global enterprise. It’s a huge twenty-story office building, all curved glass and steel, an architect’s utilitarian fantasy, with Grey House written discreetly in steel over the glass front doors.

It’s a quarter to two when I arrive, greatly relieved that I’m not late as I walk into the enormous – and frankly intimidating – glass, steel, and white sandstone lobby.

Behind the solid sandstone desk, a very attractive, groomed, blonde young woman smiles pleasantly at me. She’s wearing the sharpest charcoal suit jacket and white shirt I have ever seen. She looks immaculate.

“I’m here to see Mr. Grey. Y/N Y/L/N for Isabella Clark.”

“Excuse me one moment, Miss Y/L/N.” She arches her eyebrow slightly as I stand self-consciously before her. I am beginning to wish I’d borrowed one of Bella’s formal blazers.

My outfit definitely didn't suit for something like this, but at the same time I've neve done anything like this.

I love my skirts, basically all of my closet is filled with skirts, dresses, sweaters and the occasional jeans and formal pants.

For me, this is smart. I tuck one of the escaped tendrils of my hair behind my ear as I pretend she doesn’t intimidate me.

“Miss Clark is expected. Please sign in here, Miss Y/L/N. You’ll want the last elevator on the right, press for the twentieth floor.” She smiles kindly at me, amused no doubt, as I sign in.

She hands me a security pass that has VISITOR very firmly stamped on the front. I can’t help my smirk. Surely it’s obvious that I’m just visiting. I don’t fit in here at all. Nothing changes, I inwardly sigh. Thanking her, I walk over to the bank of elevators pastthe two security men who are both far more smartly dressed than I am in their well-cut black suits.

The elevator whisks me with terminal velocity to the twentieth floor. The doors slide open, and I’m in another large lobby – again all glass, steel, and white sandstone. I’m confronted by another desk of sandstone and another young blonde woman dressed impeccably in black and white who rises to greet me.

“Miss Y/L/N, could you wait here, please?” She points to a seated area of white leather chairs.

Behind the leather chairs is a spacious glass-walled meeting room with an equally spacious dark wood table and at least twenty matching chairs around it. Beyond that, there is a floor-to-ceiling window with a view of the Seattle skyline that looks out through the city toward the Sound. It’s a stunning vista, and I’m momentarily paralyzed by the view. Wow.

I sit down, fish the questions from my bag, and go through them, inwardly cursing Bella for not providing me with a brief biography. I know nothing about this man I’m about to interview. He could be ninety or he could be thirty.

The uncertainty is galling, and my nerves resurface, making me fidget. I’ve never been comfortable with one-on-one interviews, preferring the anonymity of a group discussion where I can sit inconspicuously at the back of the room. To be honest, I prefer my own company, reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library. Not sitting twitching nervously in a colossal glass and stone edifice.

I roll my eyes at myself. Get a grip, Y/N. Judging from the building, which is too clinical and modern, I guess Grey is in his forties: fit, tanned, and fair-haired to match the rest of the personnel.

Another elegant, flawlessly dressed blonde comes out of a large door to the right. What is it with all the immaculate blondes? It’s like Stepford here.

Taking a deep breath, I stand up.

“Miss Y/L/N?” the latest blonde asks.

“Yes,” I croak, and clear my throat. “Yes.” There, that sounded more confident.

“Mr. Grey will see you in a moment. May I take your coat?”

“Oh please.” I struggle out of the long black coat.

“Have you been offered any refreshment?”

“Um – no.”

Oh dear, is Blonde Number One in trouble?

Blonde Number Two frowns and eyes the young woman at the desk.

“Would you like tea, coffee, water?” she asks, turning her attention back to me.

“A glass of water. Thank you,” I murmur.

“Olivia, please fetch Miss Y/L/N a glass of water.” Her voice is stern. Olivia scoots up immediately and scurries to a door on the other side of the foyer.

“My apologies, Miss Y/L/N, Olivia is our new intern. Please be seated. Mr. Grey will be another five minutes.”

Olivia returns with a glass of iced water.

“Here you go, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you.”

Blonde Number Two marches over to the large desk, her heels clicking and echoing on the sandstone floor. She sits down, and they both continue their work.

Perhaps Mr. Grey insists on all his employees being blonde. I’m wondering idly if that’s legal, when the office door opens and a tall, elegantly dressed, attractive man with short dreads exits. I have definitely worn the wrong clothes.

He turns and says through the door. “Golf, this week, Grey.”

I don’t hear the reply. He turns, sees me, and smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. Olivia has jumped up and called the elevator. She seems to excel at jumping from her seat. She’s more nervous than me!

“Good afternoon ladies,” he says as he departs through the sliding door.

“Mr. Grey will see you now, Miss Y/L/N. Do go through,” Blonde Number Two says.

I stand rather shakily trying to suppress my nerves. Gathering up my bag, I abandon my glass of water and make my way to the partially open door.

“You don’t need to knock – just go in.” She smiles kindly.

I push open the door and stumble through the impressively giant office. I notice a man his face hidden behind the computer. But in a moment he raises his head and approaches me.

That's when I see his face.

Holy Cow, his young nothing like I'd imagined him.

“Miss Clark” He extends a long-fingered hand to me. “I’m Christian Grey.”

So young – and attractive, very attractive. He’s tall, dressed in a fine gray suit, white shirt, and black tie with unruly dark copper colored hair and intense, bright gray eyes that regard me shrewdly. It takes a moment for me to find my voice.

“Um. Actually–” I mutter. If this guy is over thirty then I’m a monkey’s uncle. In a daze, I place my hand in his and we shake. As our fingers touch, I feel an odd exhilarating shiver run through me. I withdraw my hand hastily, embarrassed. Must be static.

I blink rapidly, my eyelids matching my heart rate. “Miss Clark is indisposed, so she sent me. I hope you don’t mind, Mr. Grey.”

“And you are?” His voice is warm, possibly amused, but it’s difficult to tell from his impassive expression. He looks mildly interested, but above all, polite.

“Y/N Y/L/N. I’m studying English Literature with Bella, um… Isabella… um… Miss Clark at Washington State.”

“I see,” he says simply. I think I see the ghost of a smile in his expression, but I’m not sure.

“Would you like to sit?” He waves me toward a white leather buttoned L-shaped couch.

His office is way too big for just one man. In front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, there’s a huge modern dark-wood desk that six people could comfortably eat around. It matches the coffee table by the couch. Everything else is white – ceiling, floors, and walls except, on the wall by the door, where a mosaic of small paintings hang, thirty-six of them arranged in a square. They are exquisite – a series of mundane, forgotten objects painted in such precise detail they look like photographs. Displayed together, they are breathtaking.

“A local artist. Trouton,” says Grey when he catches my gaze.

“They’re lovely. Raising the ordinary to extraordinary,” I murmur, distracted both by him and the paintings. He cocks his head to one side and regards me intently.

“I couldn’t agree more, Miss Y/L/N,” he replies, his voice soft and for some inexplicable reason I find myself blushing.

Apart from the paintings, the rest of the office is cold, clean, and clinical. I wonder if it reflects the personality of the person who sinks gracefully into one of the white leather chairs opposite me. I shake my head, disturbed at the direction of my thoughts, and retrieve Bella’s questions from my bag.

Next, I set up the mini-disc recorder and am all fingers and thumbs, dropping it twice on the coffee table in front of me. Mr. Grey says nothing, waiting patiently – I hope – as I become increasingly embarrassed and flustered. When I pluck up the courage to look at him, he’s watching me, one hand relaxed in his lap and the other cupping his chin and trailing his long index finger across his lips. I think he’s trying to suppress a smile.

“Sorry,” I stutter. “I’m not used to this.”

“Take all the time you need, Miss Y/L/N,” he says.

“Do you mind if I record your answers?”

“After you’ve taken so much trouble to set up the recorder – you ask me now?”

I flush. He’s teasing me? I hope. I smile shyly, unsure what to say, and I think he takes pity on me because he relents. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Did Bella, I mean, Miss Clark, explain what the interview was for?”

“Yes. To appear in the graduation issue of the student newspaper as I shall be conferring the degrees at this year’s graduation ceremony.”

Oh! This is news to me, and I’m temporarily pre-occupied by the thought that someone not much older than me – okay, maybe six years or so, and okay, mega successful, but still – is going to present me with my degree.

I frown, dragging my wayward attention back to the task at hand.

“Good,” I swallow nervously. “I have some questions, Mr. Grey.” I smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear.

“I thought you might,” he says, deadpan. He’s laughing at me. My cheeks heat at the realization, and I sit up and square my shoulders in an attempt to look taller and more intimidating. Pressing the start button on the recorder, I try to look professional.

“You’re very young to have amassed such an empire. To what do you owe your success?” I glance up at him. His smile is rueful, but he looks vaguely disappointed.

“Business is all about people, Miss Y/L/N, and I’m very good at judging people. I know how they tick, what makes them flourish, what doesn’t, what inspires them, and how to incentivize them. I employ an exceptional team, and I reward them well.” He pauses and fixes me with his gray stare.

“My belief is to achieve success in any scheme one has to make oneself master of that scheme, know it inside and out, know every detail. I work hard, very hard to do that. I make decisions based on logic and facts. I have a natural gut instinct that can spot and nurture a good solid idea and good people. The bottom line is, it’s always down to good people.”

“Maybe you’re just lucky.” This isn’t on Bella’s list – but he’s so arrogant. His eyes flare momentarily in surprise.

“I don’t subscribe to luck or chance, Miss Y/L/N. The harder I work the more luck I seem to have. It really is all about having the right people on your team and directing theirenergies accordingly. I think it was Harvey Firestone who said ‘the growth and development of people is the highest calling of leadership.’ ”

“You sound like a control freak.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

“Oh, I exercise control in all things, Miss Y/L/N,” he says without a trace of humor in his smile. I look at him, and he holds my gaze steadily, impassive. My heartbeat quickens, and my face flushes again.

Why does he have such an unnerving effect on me? His overwhelming good-looks maybe? The way his eyes blaze at me? The way he strokes his index finger against his lower lip? I wish he’d stop doing that.

“Besides, immense power is acquired by assuring yourself in your secret reveries that you were born to control things,” he continues, his voice soft.

“Do you feel that you have immense power?” Control Freak.

“I employ over forty thousand people Miss Y/L/N. That gives me a certain sense of responsibility – power, if you will. If I were to decide I was no longer interested in the telecommunications business and sell up, twenty thousand people would struggle to make their mortgage payments after a month or so.”

My mouth drops open. I am staggered by his lack of humility. “Don’t you have a board to answer to?” I ask, disgusted.

“I own my company. I don’t have to answer to a board.” He raises an eyebrow at me.

I flush. Of course, I would know this if I had done some research. But holy crap, he’s so arrogant. I change tack.

“And do you have any interests outside your work?”

“I have varied interests, Miss Y/L/N.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “Very varied.”

And for some reason, I’m confounded and heated by his steady gaze. His eyes are alight with some wicked thought.

“But if you work so hard, what do you do to chill out?”

“Chill out?” He smiles, revealing perfect white teeth. I stop breathing. He really is beautiful. No one should be this good-looking.

“Well, to ‘chill out’ as you put it – I sail, I fly, I indulge in various physical pursuits.”

He shifts in his chair. “I’m a very wealthy man, Miss Y/L/N, and I have expensive and absorbing hobbies.”

I glance quickly at Bella’s questions, wanting to get off this subject.

“You invest in manufacturing. Why, specifically?” I ask. Why does he make me so uncomfortable?

“I like to build things. I like to know how things work: what makes things tick, how to construct and deconstruct. And I have a love of ships. What can I say?”

“That sounds like your heart talking rather than logic and facts.”

His mouth quirks up, and he stares appraisingly at me. “Possibly. Though there are people who’d say I don’t have a heart.”

“Why would they say that?” I ask, intrigued by that information.

“Because they know me well.” His lip curls in a wry smile.

“Would your friends say you’re easy to get to know?” And I regret the question as soon as I say it. It’s not on Bella’s list.

“I’m a very private person, Miss Y/L/N. I go a long way to protect my privacy. I don’t often give interviews,” he trails off.

“Why did you agree to do this one?”

“Because I’m a benefactor of the University, and for all intents and purposes, I couldn’t get Miss Clark off my back. She badgered and badgered my PR people, and I admire that kind of tenacity.”

I know how tenacious Bella can be. That’s why I’m sitting here squirming uncomfortably under his penetrating gaze, when I should be studying for my exams.

“You also invest in farming technologies. Why are you interested in this area?”

“We can’t eat money, Miss Y/L/N, and there are too many people on this planet who don’t have enough to eat.”

“That sounds very philanthropic. Is it something you feel passionately about? Feeding the world’s poor?”

He shrugs, very non-committal. “It’s shrewd business,” he shrugs, though I think he’s being disingenuous. It doesn’t make sense – feeding the world’s poor? I can’t see the financial benefits of this, only the virtue of the ideal. I glance at the next question, confused by his attitude.

“Do you have a philosophy? If so, what is it?”

“I don’t have a philosophy as such. Maybe a guiding principle. I’m very singular, driven. I like control – of myself and those around me.”

“So you want to possess things?” You are a control freak.

“I want to deserve to possess them, but yes, bottom line, I do.”

“You sound like the ultimate consumer.”

“I am.” He smiles, but the smile doesn’t touch his eyes. Again this is at odds with someone who wants to feed the world, so I can’t help thinking that we’re talking about something else, but I’m absolutely mystified as to what it is. I swallow hard. The temperature in the room is rising or maybe it’s just me. I just want this interview to be over.

Surely Bella has enough material now? I glance at the next question.“You were adopted. How far do you think that’s shaped the way you are?”

Oh, this is personal. I stare at him, hoping he’s not offended. His brow furrows. “I have no way of knowing.”

My interest is piqued.

“How old were you when you were adopted?”

“That’s a matter of public record, Miss Y/L/N.” His tone is stern. I flush, again. Crap.

Yes of course – if I’d known I was doing this interview, I would have done some research. I move on quickly.

“You’ve had to sacrifice a family life for your work.”

“That’s not a question.” He’s terse.

“Sorry.” I squirm, and he’s made me feel like an errant child. I try again. “Have you had to sacrifice a family life for your work?”

“I have a family. I have a brother and a sister and two loving parents. I’m not interested in extending my family beyond that.”

“Are you gay, Mr. Grey?”

He inhales sharply, and I cringe, mortified. Shoot. Why didn’t I employ some kind of filter before I read this straight out? How can I tell him I’m just reading the questions?

Damn Bella and her curiosity!

“No Y/N, I’m not.” He raises his eyebrows, a cool gleam in his eyes. He does

not look pleased.

“I apologize. It’s um… written here.” It’s the first time he’s said my name. My heartbeat has accelerated, and my cheeks are heating up again. Nervously, I tuck my loosened hair behind my ear.

He cocks his head to one side.

“These aren’t your own questions?”

The blood drains from my head. Oh no.

“Err… no. Bella – Miss Clark – she compiled the questions.”

“Are you colleagues on the student paper?”

I have nothing to do with the student paper. It’s her extra-curricular activity, not mine. My face is aflame. “No. She’s my roommate.”

He rubs his chin in quiet deliberation, his gray eyes appraising me. “Did you volunteer to do this interview?” he asks, his voice deadly quiet.

Hang on, who’s supposed to be interviewing whom? His eyes burn into me, and I’m compelled to answer with the truth.

“I was drafted. She’s not well.” My voice is weak and apologetic.

“That explains a great deal.”

There’s a knock at the door, and Blonde Number Two enters. “Mr. Grey, forgive me for interrupting, but your next meeting is in two minutes.”

“We’re not finished here, Andrea. Please cancel my next meeting.”

Andrea hesitates, gaping at him. She’s appears lost. He turns his head slowly to face her and raises his eyebrows. She flushes bright pink. Oh good. It’s not just me.

“Very well, Mr. Grey,” she mutters, then exits. He frowns, and turns his attention back to me.

“Where were we, Miss Y/L/N?”

Oh, we’re back to ‘Miss Y/L/N’ now.

“Please don’t let me keep you from anything.”

“I want to know about you. I think that’s only fair.” His gray eyes are alight with curiosity.

Where’s he going with this? He places his elbows on the arms of the chair and steeples his fingers in front of his mouth. His mouth is very… distracting. I swallow.

“There’s not much to know,” I say, flushing again.

“What are your plans after you graduate?”

I shrug, thrown by his interest. Come to Seattle with Bella, find a place, find a job. I haven’t really thought beyond my finals.

“I haven’t made any plans, Mr. Grey. I just need to get through my final exams.”

Which I should be studying for now rather than sitting in your palatial, swanky, sterile office, feeling uncomfortable under your penetrating gaze. “We run an excellent internship program here,” he says quietly.

I raise my eyebrows in surprise. Is he offering me a job? “Oh. I’ll bear that in mind,” I answer, completely confounded. “Though I’m not sure I’d fit in here.”

Oh no. I’m musing out loud again.

“Why do you say that?” He cocks his head to one side, intrigued, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s obvious, isn’t it?” I’m uncoordinated, scruffy, and I’m not blonde.

“Not to me,” he murmurs. His gaze is intense, all humor gone, and strange muscles deep in my belly clench suddenly. I tear my eyes away from his scrutiny and stare blindly down at my knotted fingers.

What’s going on? I have to go – now. I lean forward to retrieve the recorder.

“Would you like me to show you around?” he asks.

“I’m sure you’re far too busy, Mr. Grey, and I do have a long drive.”

“You’re driving back to WSU in Vancouver?” He sounds surprised, anxious even. He glances out of the window. It’s begun to rain. “Well, you’d better drive carefully.” His tone is stern, authoritative.

Why should he care? “Did you get everything you need?” he adds.

“Yes sir,” I reply, packing the recorder into my bag. His eyes narrow, speculatively.

“Thank you for the interview, Mr. Grey.”

“The pleasure’s been all mine,” he says, polite as ever.

As I rise, he stands and holds out his hand.

“Until we meet again, Miss Y/L/N.” And it sounds like a challenge, or a threat, I’m not sure which. I frown.

When will we ever meet again? I shake his hand once more, astounded that that odd current between us is still there. It must be my nerves.

“Mr. Grey.” I nod at him. Moving with lithe athletic grace to the door, he opens it wide.

“Allow me to escort you outside.” He gives me a small smile.

He's so polite now.

“Sure, Mr. Grey,” I smile, and his smile widens. Together, we walk into the foyer. Andrea and Olivia both look up, equally surprised.

“Did you have a coat?” Grey asks.

“Yes.” Olivia leaps up and retrieves my black, which Grey takes from her before she can hand it to me. He holds it up and, feeling ridiculously self-conscious, I shrug it on.

Grey places his hands for a moment on my shoulders. I gasp at the contact. If he notices my reaction, he gives nothing away. His long index finger presses the button summoning the elevator, and we stand waiting – awkwardly on my part, coolly self-possessed on his.

The doors open, and I hurry in desperate to escape. I really need to get out of here. When I turn to look at him, he’s leaning against the doorway beside the elevator with one hand on the wall. He really is very, very good-looking. It’s distracting. His burning gray eyes gaze at me.

“Y/N,” he says as a farewell.

“Christian,” I reply. And mercifully, the doors close.

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[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[sturniololoco]

Stressed

M. Sturniolo x fem reader

Requested: Nope

Warnings: none. Pure fluff

Note: this is not my first time writing, but it is my first time posting. SO BE NICE! ❤️

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a long week. My stress levels have been through the roof since Monday morning. I’ve been having to work double shifts due to people slacking off, and on top of all that I had to do all the cooking, cleaning, and laundry for three people, NOT including myself.

I live with the Sturniolo triplets, which is one of my many blessings. But sometimes living with three boys can be a lot to handle, especially when they’re busy all week with filming and photo shoots.

But it was finally Friday, and I can now take my time to relax and watch a movie with the boys.

Only that was NOT the case

Friday meant pizza, and pizza meant movie, and movie meant fighting over couch spots, blankets, pillows, and etc. All of these things led to on stop bickering and a constant headache. 

“Chris! What the fuck is wrong with you that was my seat!” Nick yelled at the youngest triplet, who had the biggest smirk on his face.

“I don’t see your name on it.” Chris retorted, stuffing a handful of Nicks popcorn into his mouth. 

That set Nick off.

Nick and Chris were now girl fighting; smacking the others faces and pulling each others hair, while, as usual, being extremely loud. 

“I cant fucking do this anymore” I numbed under my breath, tears threatening to leaf all due to my horrible headache. I divided it was best to call it a night and head up to my room. 

Matt’s POV

I was sitting on the corner sot on our couch, waiting for Y/N to come and join us so I could press play on the movie. But then all hell broke loose over a spot on the couch and now Nick and Chris were having at it. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Y/N walking to the stairs, looking like shes about to cry. 

A pang of guilt hits me like a train. 

I know shes had a very stressful week at work, and my brothers and I were not helping. 

“HEY! Would you two shut the fuck up!”

My two brothers stop dead in their tracks and look at me, shocked that I raised my voice so loud. Chris opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off. 

“Did you two not see how upset and stressed Y/N was?!? Did you even notice she left because of you?”

Chris closed his mouth and gave a guilty look. Nick looked at the ground to avoid my stare. 

“You two better fix your fucking act by the time I get back. I’m going to check on        Y/N.” I announce, leaving them where they stand. 

I head to the kitchen, grab the bottle of Tylenol and bottle of water, and then make my way up stairs. 

Y/N’s POV

I soon as I turned my lights on and shut the door behind me, Immediately burst into tears. I walk across the room and collapsed on my bead, sobbing into my pillow. 

After about 5 minuets, my breathing slowed down and the tears turned into rain rarer than a river. As soon as I sit up I hear a soft knock on my door. 

“Come I-In” I say, mentally cursing that the crack in my voice. The door is softly pushed open, revealing Matt, holding a bottle of Tylenol and some water.

“Hey baby,” he says, walking over and putting the medicine and water on my nightstand. He sits down next to me and runs a slow hand through my hair.

I hum and lean into him, the motion soothing my headache. He lets out a light chuckle and pulls me closer to him. 

He gently lies back on the bed with me lying on top of him, my face in the crook of his neck.

“Why don’t you get some sleep baby, you look exhausted.” He murmurs softly in my ear while he plants a soft kiss to the top of my head. My eyes were already half way closed.

“Don’t leave me. I want you.” I mumbled, afraid he might leave in the middle of the night.

“Don’t worry baby, I’m not going anywhere” 

[woso-fan13]

Sicktember 2023: 11

Beginner’s Guide To Faking Sick

In an effort to assess the team’s fitness and any improvement in performance, someone thought it would be a good idea to have fitness testing twice- once on the first day and once on the last. You would really like to talk to the person who made this decision, because they need to know that they just made twenty-some new enemies. 

Everyone had been complaining about it since it was announced, and you had been very vocal about how much you were not looking forward to the beep test specifically. 

Andi had the pleasure of being your roommate, which meant she also had the pleasure of being the person who had to drag you out of bed in the mornings. She’s lucky you’re relatively easy to get out of bed, she could have been stuck with a lot worse. 

—-

“Y/N, come on. You need to get up, the bus leaves in 20 minutes,” Andi’s voice woke you. 

You groan, “Ands, my head really hurts. Can I please go back to sleep?”

You hear footsteps before you feel a hand pressing against your forehead. 

“You don’t have a fever, you’re fine.”

“Andi, please. It really hurts,” your voice is quiet. 

“Y/N, I’m not stupid, I know you’re trying to get out of fitness testing. Next time, commit fully to faking sick if you want to skip. It’s a little embarrassing, I was better at faking sick when I was in elementary school.”

“‘m not lying, I promise. My head feels like it’s going to explode.”

“I’m leaving,” Andi sighs, “be downstairs and ready to go in 15 minutes. Take some Tylenol if your head hurts that bad, and get up. If you really want to stay in your bed, you’ll have plenty of time when you’re dropped from the team for skipping.”

With that, you hear the door open and shut as Andi leaves. The girl really was all about tough love, which was usually good. She could always push you to reach a new best, never accepting any excuses.  

Just this once, you wished she would. But you knew she was right, Coach had dropped people for less than missing fitness testing. So you pulled yourself out of bed, got yourself together, and headed to the lobby. 

Your steps were slow and somewhat wobbly. Which made sense, because your head was spinning and felt like it was being split in half. But you made it to the elevator and stumbled into the lobby, joining the group of players. 

Andi, noticing your presence, walks over and slings her arm around your shoulder. Leaning down, she whispers to you. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t need to be so harsh this morning. I was just frustrated and I really couldn’t put up with your antics. We’re fine, right?”

You force a smile onto your face, “of course, Ands. Sorry for being so stubborn.”

If Andi hadn’t believed you earlier, you knew she wouldn’t believe you now. So you decided that you would mind-over-matter your way through the situation. If you pretended you felt normal, you eventually would feel normal, right?

—-

You didn’t even make it through the warm up. You managed through stretches, but you only made it about halfway around the field when your body decided to prove to Andi that you weren’t a liar. 

With a thud, you dropped to the ground. Everyone froze for a moment looking towards you, as if waiting for you to stand up. Instead, you began seizing. 

Everyone took off running, the vets crouching around you and shooing the younger players away. Andi, who had crouched by your head, watched in horror as you began throwing up, your seizure still not breaking. 

As the medics arrived, they quickly pushed everyone back. Andi begged to stay, and she was finally allowed to if she promised not to get in the way. She was directed to your feet, and she grabbed your ankle tightly. 

She watched as they shine a flashlight in your eyes, speaking rapidly. She catches words such as “dilated” and “uneven” and she knows enough to know that those aren’t good. 

But she doesn’t know what could have happened. A headache wouldn’t cause this, and you were fine yesterday. You had played the full 90 and scored two goals against the Canadian team. You had been totally fin- oh. 

Andi’s thoughts screech to a halt. In the 91st minute, you had gone in for a header and had been instead met with the goalie’s fist. You had landed on your feet though, and you seemed okay. There had only been a few minutes of injury time left, and the ref had waved off the medics and resumed play. 

By the time that the final whistle blew, it seemed that everyone had forgotten about your injury. The medics didn’t come or pull you aside in the locker room, Coach had been too busy doing whatever he does to check in on you. And your teammates had been distracted with celebrating the win to remember that you had taken a serious knock. The only person who seemed to remember was the goalie, who had asked mainly out of guilt if you were fine. 

(of course, the fans remembered. when you were finally cleared to use screens, you would see edits of you being hit and then swaying on the pitch as everyone forgot about you. not how you wanted to go viral.)

No one had noticed that you had skipped out on the celebrations to go to bed once you had returned to the hotel. The only person who had any clue that something was wrong had told you off for lying. No one even knew until you hit the ground. 

[sevasey51]

Can I get a request for a mild-moderate endo flare at home? One with the charting to the secure app for her endo. Also knowing Connor and knowing how much Y/N hates going to med. would he have a mini handheld ultrasound? If so when did he decide to have it in the apartment?

In the Details

Summary: A mild-to-moderate endo flare isn’t new—but it still wears on her. Connor has the rhythm memorized: chart the symptoms, prep the meds, and keep her home if he can. Because he knows her—the quiet way she powers through, how much she hates being admitted, and the stubborn streak that won’t let her say when it’s bad. So he watches carefully. And when the pain gets deeper, more localized—he reaches for the handheld ultrasound he started keeping in the apartment after the last time a “manageable” flare turned into emergency imaging and an overnight stay.

It started that morning.

Not bad. Just that familiar, deep ache.

Y/N had stayed curled under the weighted blanket on the couch, one arm tucked around her middle while Charlie laid stretched out at her feet, twitching in his sleep.

Connor had already noticed before she said anything—how she moved slower getting out of bed, how she winced when she shifted weight between her hips.

He didn’t push. Just handed her tea and gently pulled the heating pad across her abdomen.

“You chart it?” he asked softly, already pulling up the secure log on the wall tablet.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, voice low. “Logged it before I even got out of bed.”

Connor tapped through the secure flare tracking app—built originally for her endometriosis but used now for everything. It had pain maps, symptom sliders, space for vitals, bleeding notes, and more. Most days she filled it out herself. Some days—like this one—he did it for her.

Logged at 08:13 AM

• Cramping: 6/10

• Bleeding: Moderate

• Clotting: None

• Nausea: Mild

• BP: 104/63

• HR: 96

• Meds taken: Tylenol, oral Zofran

• Heat applied: Yes

• Status: At home, monitored

By midday, she hadn’t moved much. And the ache had become a throb. Still not code-red pain, but… deeper. Localized. She shifted on the couch with a soft hiss and curled tighter.

Connor was already walking back over with her afternoon water and a snack when he paused mid-step, reading the way she hunched.

“Same spot as last time?” he asked.

She gave a nod, teeth pressed together. “Feels… heavier.”

Connor set the water down. “Alright. I want to take a look.”

Y/N’s brows furrowed in confusion at first. “Look?”

He gestured toward the bedroom. “With the ultrasound.”

Her eyes widened a little. “Wait—you have it here?”

He gave her that small, soft smile. “You think after the last flare nearly perforated your ovary I wouldn’t have one at home?”

Flashback: Two Months Prior

The hospital had been the worst place for her that night—overstimulated, understaffed, nowhere quiet. By the time they got her in for imaging, she was sobbing from the pain and severely dehydrated from trying to tough it out too long.

Later that week, Ava had quietly suggested something Connor was already considering.

“Portable ultrasound. Keep it at home. You’ll know sooner when it’s just inflammation… and when it’s not.”

The next day, one showed up in Connor’s Med locker.

And two days later, he cleared a drawer in the hall closet labeled “For When She Won’t Admit It’s That Bad Yet.”

Back in the bedroom, he helped her lie back with a pillow under her knees. She still wore her soft maternity joggers because with the endo bloat it was comforter, and he worked gently around the waistband, exposing just enough to sweep gel across her lower pelvis.

“I hate this part,” she murmured.

“I know,” he whispered. “But I’d rather check than guess.”

The soft whir of the probe filled the room. Connor stayed calm, controlled, his hand light as he moved it gently across the screen grid.

No cysts ruptured. No free fluid. But inflammation was definitely there. Thickened tissue. Swelling. Uterus boggy and sensitive.

He exhaled quietly in relief.

“Still moderate. We caught it early enough.”

She blinked at him. “So we’re not going in?”

He shook his head. “Not if I can keep managing it here. But no hero moves, got it?”

She gave him a lazy salute.

Updated Log – 1:02 PM

• Cramping: 7/10

• Bleeding: Moderate, no clots

• Uterus: Boggy, inflamed

• No rupture, no free fluid

• Pain map: Lower L quadrant

• Additional Meds: Scheduled NSAIDs, oral progesterone

• Positioning: Reclining with wedge and pillow

• Monitoring plan: Fluids, rest, repeat scan if pain spikes

That night, she stayed in her favorite hoodie. Charlie laid his head over her ankle like a weighted anchor. And Connor sat with one hand on her wrist while the slow saline drip ran through her port.

“You okay?” he asked softly.

She didn’t speak—just nodded and squeezed his fingers.

It wasn’t a hospital night.

And that, for both of them, was a win.

[first-boy-wonder]

Okay kiddo. Here's what we're going to do okay? Let's locate a thermometer okay?

Is there one you can get to? Is it a scan one or one that you place in your mouth or under your arm?

If it's a mouth one, are you feeling queasy? If so I'm gonna have you do this next step near a trash can just in case, okay? You place it under your tongue and wait for the beep. That tells your temperature. If it's over 105° I need you to go get an adult. Okay?

Are you still with me buddy? Next we're going to the the medicine cabinet. Do you have one of them? Can you find any tylenol? Any advil? Take one or the other, I'm sure you know the differences between the two, right kid? If not, we're going to look it up. Did you take the right dose?

Okay, now we're going to have you drink something. Water, juice, gatorade, anything like that. Drink a little even if you are queasy. If you can't keep it down you will go get an adult. That's non negotiable. Dehydration is a real risk.

If you're all good I want you to put the phone down and lay down. In bed of course. Get snug and you can keep the duvet but that's it. Any extra blankets could make things worse.

Get some rest. Feel better soon, Robin

(From 🌺, the same person as the previous itallic ask, I might actually make an account for this. Robin Dickie deserves to be cared for)

Okay- um okay.. I don't know where- uh never mind, found it? What- what if I get told off? I don't wanna- don't wanna be fired. Um.. It's a normal one. I know how to use these,, felt queasy so I stayed in the bathroom. 105.2f isn't too bad? Could be worse,, I can't- I can't tell them.. sorry.

I have Tylenol in here, I took it. Does that make- make It all better? I don't wanna drink anything else. I don't feel good,, I'm sorry. The meds made it worse,, queasy. Room spinning...?

I guess I just go to sleep now..? What- what about patrol? I think I just wake up for that..? G'night flower anon, thank you for helping.. 'm sleepy.

[no-quit-lucy]

Lucy shows up at Tim’s house after elevator scene to help tend to his wounds

Read on ao3 Rated M w/c: 4,123

“Lucy?” Tim asked, pulling open his front door with his uninjured hand. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m trying to rack up your bill,” Lucy tried to joke though she could tell it didn’t land. “I brought food and gauze.” She pulled up the two grocery bags at her side as proof.

“You don’t have to do this, Lucy,” Tim said, repeating the same words she said to him in the elevator just a few hours ago, not stepping aside to let her in. He didn’t feel he deserved any more of her kindness. He owed her too much already.

“Do you ever think about what I want?” Lucy’s anger poked through the edges of her resolve.

She wasn’t there to fight with him. He had already proved he wasn’t willing to fight with her anymore. Exhausted, she dropped her anger and let it blow away in the breeze.

“I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair–” Lucy began to apologize, thinking this was a horrible idea and she should have just left it alone.

“No, Lucy. Please,” Tim begged softly, making room for her to enter his house. “I’m sorry,” he said, knowing it wouldn’t make up for the hurt he caused.

“Thanks,” she brushed past him, keeping her head down and avoiding his eyes.

Beginning to place the bags on the counter, she looked around trying to find their dog, having expected him to run up to her in greeting by now.

“Where’s Kojo?”

“I don’t know, he’s been hiding from me.”

Tim kept a respectful distance away from Lucy, still trying to size up what she was doing in his house.

“Hmm,” Lucy triumphantly hummed to herself, nodding and fighting the smile breaking on her face. Good boy, she thought.

“What— what are you doing here, Lucy?”

Lucy paused in taking out her ingredients, thoroughly disappointed. She thought he knew her better than this. Since the breakup, she kept having to correct her assumptions about Tim and what goes through his head on a daily basis. Being around him was giving her whiplash. She thought she had him nailed down, but apparently, she nailed down the wrong guy.

“I’m taking care of you. Look, you said it yourself. You didn’t have that guy. He could have killed you. Hell, he stabbed you four times, Tim. I know how you get when you’re injured. That much hasn’t changed since I met you. You’ll do the bare minimum to keep yourself from getting an infection, push yourself to be fine when you’re not, and whether you want me to or not, I still care about you and I’m not letting you suffer just because you think you deserve it.”

“Lucy,” Tim tried to protest.

As much as she thought she didn’t know him anymore, she still knew him better than most. Better than himself some days.

“Fine,” Tim relented, seeing the assortment of ingredients that went into his favorite dish. “You’re taking care of me.”

For one night, he could put his self-deprecation aside and let her take care of him. It was past time he began repaying her kindness.

“Now are you gonna go find Kojo or am I going to have to do everything for you today?” Her mouth turned up in a smile, seeing a matching one on Tim’s face.

During dinner, he admitted his legs were sore and his back hurt. Jumping into the bed of that truck had not done him any favors. The gashes on his arms stung a bit, his long sleeve under armor had done a pisspoor job of stopping the knife. Two stabs to his left leg, one to his right, and the fourth low on his waist, Tim preferred not to take the good drugs the nurse had sent him home with.

Riding only on extra-strength Tylenol, Tim had (tried to) relax on the couch and let Lucy take Kojo for his evening walk alone.

Not long after coming back from the walk, Kojo was snoring on his dog bed in the corner, and Tim was nervously flipping through channels, hoping Lucy would just go home so he didn’t have to deal with the emotions her presence was bringing to the surface. Avoidance tactics were still his go-to method for armor.

Lucy pulled out her bag of first aid supplies and walked them over to his en-suite bathroom, but only after taking a pause and a breath before entering his bedroom.

“I suggest changing the gauze in here so you can go to sleep right after. It’s getting late and you need the rest to heal,” Lucy called out into the living room where Tim was still sitting.

He closed his eyes and recalled his confession to her in the car. Despite his less-than-ideal experience, he needed to get back on the therapy horse and keep riding it until he was in a better place. 

So instead of wallowing in self-pity, he chose to shut off the TV and utilize one of the tools Dr. London had armed him with. He put a name to his feelings and acknowledged their presence without judgment.

He started with regret, for pushing Lucy away and shutting her out before he could let her talk him out of his bad decisions.

Outrage, for not appreciating her enough when he still had her.

Anger, at himself, that she was here now, being Lucy, when he knows he broke her heart.

Loss, for the person he was when he was with her.

Hope, for the future he could have, if he keeps working on himself.

Failure, for what he had robbed from Lucy, what he couldn’t give to her.

Remorse, for not getting help sooner.

Frustration, for losing his therapist and needing to find a new one.

Despair, for wanting to fix things but not knowing how.

And finally, guilt, for Lucy, being here, having his back, after all that had happened, for all that he continued to leave unsaid.

Painfully, he stood up and carefully made his way to his bedroom, shocked to see her touches reignited in the room like a beacon on a foggy day.

“Lucy,” He sighed, “What is all this?”

There was a lit candle on his dresser, a mini dehumidifier on his bedside table, the smell of some sort of root or herb in the air, and a bottle of CBD oil in the middle of the bed.

“It’s too much, you don’t have to do all this,” Tim peered around the corner of his bathroom door to find Lucy donning gloves with antiseptic wipes and fresh bandages dominating the counter space formerly occupied by her small collection of toiletries.

“Tim, I’m taking care of you,” her voice was stern, hard, and rigid. He didn’t have a choice in the matter. He could see the determination and pleading in her eyes. “Please,” she added after, softer, more forgiving.

“Okay,” Tim relented with his head down. “You’re taking care of me.”

“Good, now take off your pants, I need to see your wounds.”

“Lucy,” Tim protested weakly, hand on his hip and begging for this to not be as painful as it was.

“What? Not like it’s anything I haven’t seen before,” 

Their eyes met in a challenge, eye contact having been fleeting and rare, too hard to face and too agonizing to hold.

Tim broke away first, sighing and moving to take off his shoulder sling.

Seeing him struggle with a simple task, Lucy stepped forward to help him.

He stepped back and held up his good hand in a motion to stop.

“I need to do this on my own,” he stated, his words conveying a message deeper than just undressing himself.

Lucy turned away, busying herself with re-checking her supplies. “Fine, let me know when you’re ready.”

Hearing the grunts from his efforts, Lucy did her best to preoccupy herself with something, anything, other than rushing to his side to take away his pain. That wasn’t her privilege anymore. Being here now was already overstepping an unspoken boundary. But after the height of adrenaline, the rush of almost losing him, stepping over that boundary was a selfish but necessary move on her part. She saw that and acknowledged it, doing it anyway, knowing she’d willingly face the consequences of whatever happened tonight even if it meant ignoring her hurt and anger toward him for shutting her out– just for one night.

“Ready,” he called out after getting settled on the bed. All of his injuries were on his front, easily accessible from his seated position. Sitting was much less intimate than laying down, he thought.

He kept his underwear on, knowing the waistband covered half of one stabbing and the material on his left leg covered the mark on his upper thigh.

She got to work on cleaning the knife scratches on his forearms first, focusing on her task and mentally steeling herself that this was just a body that needed care, not Tim who needed her. The gloves helped desensitize her from the feel of his warm skin.

Finishing up with the ointment on his arms, Lucy quickly looked up at him and away, uncomfortably taking up a familiar position kneeling between his legs.

“Sorry,” Lucy whispered, accidentally knocking her elbow against his knee trying to take off the old gauze from the slash on his right leg.

Tim held his breath, tense and looking far above her head.

He missed Lucy. He fucking missed Lucy a lot. Despite his crass comment in the car earlier, their sexual chemistry had always crackled louder than a raging forest fire. Having her here now, kneeling in between his legs after saving his life, he couldn’t help but be reminded of how good she used to make him feel.

How fucking phenomenal they were together.

How fucking much he missed the comfort of her touch.

“Tim,” Lucy said, forcing him to look down at her.

Fuck, he missed her.

Fuck, he wanted her.

Fuck, he didn’t deserve her.

Not anymore. Not now. Not yet.

“I need you to lay back to get the one on your stomach. And it’ll be easier to clean up the last one on your leg with your um, underwear off.”

“Lucy–” Tim groaned, already starting a list of reasons why he could take care of the last two gashes on his own.

“Let me take care of you, Tim,” Lucy pushed again, frustration rising to the surface having foreseen his resistance.

He rolled his eyes and stood, losing his balance slightly and falling forward, reaching out to steady himself with her shoulder. She bracketed his hips, holding him in place and pushing back slightly against the gravity of his fall.

“Sorry,” he said as both of them regretfully removed their hands from each other.

“You need to drink more water,” Lucy announced, standing up from her kneeling position and practically running to the kitchen.

When she got back, Tim was supine on the mattress, his discarded underwear held over his junk to preserve a modicum of modesty while looking tense and tight and nervous.

He didn’t watch her, as she walked toward him with the water glass. He looked anywhere but at her.

“Sit up,” she instructed, leaning over him to grab the pillow from the other side of the bed to stuff under his back.

They were close enough for Tim to get a hit of pure jasmine, pure Lucy, and he held his breath again, looking up at her with wide eyes of wonderment and taking the outstretched glass.

“Relax, Tim, I won’t bite,” she soothed, resisting the urge to push back his hair like she used to, instead, picking up the ointment and gauze to finish up on the last two scrapes as quickly as possible.

Still, he hadn’t resumed his normal breathing and Lucy decided she had enough of his obsolescence.

“Do some 4-7-8 breathing before you suffocate yourself, Tim,” She snapped off her nitrile gloves and disposed of the dirty bandages, leaving him to breathe. She came back soon after, asking with her eyes if he was okay with her getting on the bed next to him.

He exhaled his breath, closed his eyes, and decided to allow it with a terse nod of his head.

Carefully, Lucy sat on the bed and picked up the bottle of CBD oil.

“What are you doing?” Tim asked, fear apparent on his face.

“I’m going to massage your legs,” she said, shaking the bottle and kneeling beside his hips.

“No, you’re not,” Tim fussed.

“After a serious trauma like you survived today, your muscles are tensing up and will only hurt more if you don’t massage the area to restore normal blood flow. You said your back and legs hurt, you said you’d let me take care of you. You need this, Tim,” her fierce protector emerged, stating her position as non-negotiable. What she didn’t say, was that she needed this too.

Tim gulped, knowing she was right. It's just… the last time he let her give him a massage, the night morning ended much differently from how he expected tonight to go, no matter what his second brain advocated for.

He took another measured breath and settled against the mountain of pillows. “Go ahead,” he consented, closing his eyes and mentally cataloging player stats from decades' worth of Dodgers games. If baseball failed him, he’d move on to football, followed by hockey, police procedure, or fucking golf if it got that bad.

At the first touch of her oil-slicked hands at his fucking knee, he knew not even golf would be enough to keep his erection at bay.

“I’m going to acknowledge the inevitability now, just to get it out of the way,” Tim said after she worked her hands up to his mid-thigh. He still covered himself with his underwear, wishing he wasn’t so damn turned on in her presence.

“What’s that?” Lucy asked, so focused on her task that all she had in her brain was a map of his jīngluò.

“I’m uh, going to, uh, react to your hands on me, um, touching me. Just— just ignore it. I’m going to do my best to pretend it’s not happening, but uh, I just, I don’t know. This is uncharted territory, I feel like I’m in over my head.”

Lucy took her hands off him, giving him a moment to gather his composure.

“It’s okay, Tim. I know what I’m getting myself into. May I?” She shifted further away from his top half, planning to use the distance to pull the energy from his hip down and out through his toes.

He nodded in approval, remembering how indulgent her touch felt.

“Your qi is really blocked, Tim,” Lucy knit her brows together in a frown.

The last time she was here, massaging him, he wasn’t half as tense as he was now. Granted, all they’d been through the last few months had been more than enough to dirty up his rivers of energy, but what Lucy was encountering now, was a serious imbalance in his homeostasis.

“I’d make a quip about what not having you with me does to me, but I don’t think we’re there yet,” there was hope in his statement. A quiet hope that made her pause. His voice was drowsy and husky, a perfect mix for a cocktail of bad decisions.

“It might not take as long as you think to get there, Tim,” Lucy started with his right leg before moving over to his left and repeating the treatment exactly, making sure to be careful around the edges of his bandages.

Her hands pressed into his thigh, sliding around the sides and using all ten of her digits to dig into the taut muscle. She spent time focusing on his calf, massaging away knots and blockages to the flow of blood and energy. Her hands moved back and forth, up and down, inside his leg and up toward his pelvis. She was achingly aware of and avoiding his crotch, only once softly brushing the back of her knuckle against his nutsack on accident. When he flinched and sucked in a breath, she apologized and focused on his outer hip instead. There, he felt himself stretched and loosened, free from the tension of a hellish fight.

Once his legs were sufficiently massaged, Lucy made another selfish decision and began to dig her thumbs into the pressure points in his feet. She had the hot spots memorized, knowing where Tim held his tension and knowing exactly how much pressure to exude to get him to release it. He was still too tense for her to feel comfortable leaving him in such a state. At least, that’s what she kept telling herself as she greedily let her hands roam his body.

When she pressed her knuckle into the sciatic nerve at his heel, she watched as Tim finally let go and rode a wave of energy release, giving in to the sensations of her touch, relaxing his palms at his side, and allowing his underwear to fall off his growing erection, too blissed out to notice or even care. She made sure to rub the inner base of his big toe, hoping to ease the tension in his neck before moving on to the space below his four other toes, targeting the trapezius muscle of his injured arm.

Lucy blushed, (and smirked), hearing the familiar gasps and groans she was eliciting from his throat. Pressing harder, she watched as his back arched and his cock thudded against his belly when his hips hit the mattress on the downfall. She had stayed silent during the massage, though in her head she was coaching him through his releases.

That’s it, Tim. Let go, feel the tension ease, feel your body relaxing. You’re safe.

She hit another pocket of deep tissue in his heel and was rewarded with a shudder and deep guttural groan followed by a whimper. He was putty in her hands, finally relaxed after months of consistent tension.

I’ve got you, Tim. You’re in good hands, let me take care of you.

His eyes snapped open at the first words spoken in over an hour, surprised at how aware he was of the sincerity of her tone and hammering of his heart and of his dick.

Lucy stopped, embarrassed she had spoken the words under her breath instead of in her head. In a room filled with his pants and moans, her whispers were a shout fallen upon desperate ears.

“Lucy,” Tim cried, distress shocking her to crawl back up the bed and kiss him.

“Tim,” Lucy gasped into his mouth. Their kiss was hungry, starving, like he’d been thinking about her every day since he shipped off on tour and he just returned home.

Grabbing his face with both hands, she kept him pressed to her, not letting him go no matter how bad of an idea this was. She needed him, needed to feel he was alive, that he was okay, that he wouldn’t leave her before she was ready to let him go.

“Luce,” Tim slipped, desperate to follow her mouth wherever she led them. With his arm that wasn’t sprained, he lifted his hand and covered one of hers on his face, grasping it like a liferaft meant to keep him afloat. He then pealed it from his cheek, moving it down to settle over his hammering heart, where it should have been the entire time.

“Let me take care of you,” Lucy asked, pressing her hand over his pec and moving it down, down, down, until she brushed past his abs, settling it low on his belly. “Let me take care of you, Tim,” she said again, barely finding the space to speak between pushing her tongue past his lips and sucking his into her mouth.

He reached up to her side, fisting the hem of her shirt in his hand and tugging, tugging her desperately over his body. She spread her legs, swinging one over his hips, and hovered above him, mindful not to settle her weight on his injured thighs. Her hand continued its journey south, finding her treasure with a familiarity only known to those who spent hours studying the map of his body.

Tim groaned into her mouth, feeling her hand close around his head. He released her shirt from his grip and replaced it with a handful of hair rooted to her skull. He held her face close, afraid of letting her go ever again.

Lucy worked her palm up and down his length, using her other hand to support herself on his chest. She couldn’t get enough of him, and as much as she wanted this to last, she knew he was close to a release, having spent the last two hours unintentionally edging him with her attention. She slowed the movement of her hand, taking a few moments to savor his bittersweet kisses while she still had the excuse to take them from him.

“Tim,” Lucy pulled back, checking in with him to see if he was okay with what was happening.

Seeing the raw anguish in his face, her lip began to quiver and she hid it from him by stealing his lips in another life-altering kiss. Throwing all caution out the window, Lucy gripped harder on his cock, moved her hand slower, and arched her back to press her chest against his. There was no stopping what was going to happen tonight. No going back, no remorse, no regret.

She sat up on her knees, still hovered above him, and as fast as she could, whipped off her shirt and threw it somewhere in the room. She leaned back down to taste more of him, arching her fingers down the root of his cock to splay over his tightened ballsack. Tim moaned into her open mouth and flexed his hips up to seek more of her touch.

Silently, Tim cursed the lack of two functioning arms, forced to sideline one and overwork the other. Tenderly, he ran it up and down her back, trying to touch as much of her as he could, not knowing if he’d ever have the chance again after tonight.

Lucy moved her hand off his dick again, earning a verbal protest in the form of a whine from Tim which was quickly withdrawn when he realized it was so she could free her breasts from her bra. Once the garment was also thrown elsewhere in the room, Tim gently used his injured arm to wedge between their chests and pinch and tug at her nipple leisurely. He wished he could do more, but he knew he was beyond lucky to be where he was at all.

“Am I hurting you?” Lucy asked, slowing in her movements.

Tim had begun to only breathe in, huffing in short breaths and barely exhaling at all. That, accompanied by his desperate nips and worried noises gave Lucy pause.

He rapidly blinked open his eyes, gazing up at her and using all his effort to complete a series of 4-7-8 breaths. Once he got himself under control, he slowly blinked his eyes at her, focused enough to respond to her question.

“You can’t possibly hurt me more than I’ve hurt you,”

“Tim,” Lucy sadly gasped, pressing her forehead to his, pulling away to pepper kisses along his face, cradling it, and living in a moment where there was no hurt between them at all.

“Lucy?” Tim asked, breaking the spell only to cast it stronger, “please take care of me,” his request was full of pain, of longing, pure desperation and need.

“Always,” Lucy promised, kissing his lips, “Tim–” She wanted to say the words so badly, I love you, but she knew she shouldn’t.

Instead, she removed the rest of her clothing and carefully mounted him, being mindful of his scars, new and old. She moved on top of him with her knees drawn up at his hips, keeping her chest low and face close to his. They kissed and kissed and kissed, kissing until his finger couldn’t jerk at her clit any longer and they were both coming with open-mouthed gasps into each other’s space. Afterward, she held him, cradled his head in her chest as he drifted to sleep.

In the morning, she was gone before he woke, her scent in the bed the only trace that she had been more than a dream, more than a mirage. A message waited for him on his phone. It was from Lucy and it read: I took Kojo for a sleepover. I’ll bring him back tomorrow evening. Thank you for letting me take care of you, Tim.

[neobubz]

Tension Release (M) Chapter 4 - New Friendship

i am so sorry for the lack of updates. i was sick on two separate occasions. also, this section gave me such a headache to write because i could lead it toward many different directions. so, please forgive me. i hope you enjoy this chapter. oh, and chapters may not come out regularly as i’m in the process of cleaning and packing in order to move in the fall. so please follow and set up notifications so you know when the story is updated. thank you for your patience

Prologue || Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3

Word Count: approx. 9.2k Pairing(s): fem reader jeno || fem reader x husband Warning(s): mature audiences only, 18+, explicit language, slow-paced, storytelling, cheating, infidelity, smut, oral (female receiving) Preview: Sighing and shaking his head Jeno takes one look up at your bedroom before sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “As much as it was nice talking to you Matthew,” he whispers to himself. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to walk away after today…” With a roll of his eyes Jeno disappears into the night.

✞ＴＥＮＳＩＯＮ ＲＥＬＥＡＳＥ✞

Your eyes pop open as a sharp lightning bolt of pain shoots up your spine. Curling into a ball to find solace you’re stopped midway when a warm arm wraps around you tightly. Pulling you towards the person behind you. 

“Good morning babe,” Matthew snuggles up to you after placing a kiss on your cheek. 

“G-Good morning,” you manage to squeak out. Though the pain was strangely subsiding due to his body heat acting as a heating pad, there were still small sparks pulsating along the length of your back that has you wincing.

“How are you feeling?”

“Sore. My back is killing me right now. I think I overdid it yesterday.” 

And then some…

Sitting up abruptly Matthew leans over to see the speckles of sweat decorating your forehead and the small grimace on your face.  “Baby!” He rushes off the bed and over to your side bending down on his haunches to reach your eye level. “Baby are you okay? Do you want me to get you some Tylenol? Do you need some ice? Tell me how I can help you…”

Chuckling through the discomfort you reach out to which he instantly grabs hold of your hand kissing your knuckles. “Some Tylenol would be amazing right now.”

“Of course. I’ll be right back.” Leaving your side Matthew sprints downstairs to get you some pain killers. 

Yesterday absolutely showed you that you should have said no three times. One for Jeno, one for Matthew, and one for your own stupidity. Barely able to sit up on your own, you whimper propping yourself up to greet the new day. 

Grabbing your phone you find its 8:40AM. After all of the physical activity you passed out in Matthew’s arms at around 10PM. Your eyes scan your bedroom a soft smile coming to your face. After your rounds with Matthew you both apologized for your behaviors, promising the other to do better in the future. Then he proceeded to ask you to come back to your bedroom which didn’t take much convincing on Matthew’s part considering the quilt and sheets of the spare room need to be washed and dried. 

Both of you ending up shocked by how much of your squirt poured out of you. Honestly, you’d forgotten that was even possible. You had only squirted twice in your life. Once with some moron from the neighboring school who fingered your pussy so hard you squirted like a geyser but were sore for days, the other, with Matthew. 

Giggling, your face starts to warm. Yesterday was amazing! Your husband finally taking a leap of faith and entering a world of lust, on a Sunday, of all days — even the thought has your spent cunt clenching. Hopefully with a little time and patience on your part you’ll be able to have more days like yesterday. Of course, your back needs to hurry up and get better for the real fun to begin!

“Here we go,” Matthew comes in with not only a glass of water and your Tylenol but also a bowl that smells like apple cinnamon oatmeal. “Thought you might be hungry as well.”

“I’m famished! Thank you babe!”

Placing the tray on your lap, Matthew crawls back into bed next to you. Popping the pills quickly into your mouth, you down them with some lukewarm water. Smiling you glance at your wonderful husband. 

“You sure know how to treat a woman,” you place the tips of your fingers under his chin pulling him close to you. “Thanks for making me breakfast.” You kiss him gently.

“It’s the least I can do for being a jerk. I still can’t believe I acted like a child yesterday. Here you were upstairs, in pain, stuck in the bathroom, without breakfast, and I left you. What kind of man does that?” He pouts.

“A man who has been dealing with a lot. Truly Matthew, I’m sorry for that remark about getting a toy. I really didn’t mean it.”

“My love, we both know Roz would have gotten you something if she doesn’t have one for you on standby.”

“Matthew!!” You playfully slap his chest. “She’s not that much of a deviant!”

“Look me in the eyes and tell me she doesn’t already have a stock of her own!” He leans down his face inches from yours.

Avoiding his eyes you erupt in giggles. “Okay, so she has a few BUT!!! It’s not a stock. Just about six? I believe.”

“SIX?! Wow…I suddenly feel bad for Bill.”

“Oh stop,” you pat his cheek. “Bill is the one who suggested four of them. He likes how Roz reacts, plus, he’s the one controlling them.” Lifting up your spoon you blow gently on the steaming hot oatmeal. 

“And they both like them?” Matthew whispers beside you. 

“Sure do! I mean she doesn’t talk about all that stuff but whenever he surprised her with a new toy she would tell me what it was like. Personally, if I had to choose a toy that we should try it would be the wand. After last night,” your face starts to warm. “I want to experience that again. Plus, I could always tease you with the wand too!” You smirk. 

Matthew looks at you confused. “How can you tease someone with a stick?” 

Pausing midair you turn to your sweet naïve husband. “Baby a wand is a vibrator.”

Nodding he settles down next to you. “A vibrator…I see…” suddenly his body becomes stiff as a board next to you. “Wait!!! Why do you want to use something like that on me?!” Shaking his head he moves away from you. “No, no, no…I can’t…that’s…that’s —”

Reaching out you grab hold of his wrist before he gets off the bed completely. “Baby, it was just a thought. I would never do anything to you that you weren’t comfortable with. Plus, this is something very far down the road. What we did last night tells me we don’t need to add any gadgets to the bedroom just yet.” 

“Is…Is there anything else you would like to try?” 

“Ummm maybe these vibrators that would go inside me and you can control the speed and power of the vibrations. That would be a lot of fun! Especially,” you pull him to you. “If it’s in public.” You kiss his nose.

“IN PUBLIC?!!!” 

“Yes! Picture it! We’re sitting across from each other at let’s say the dinner. Having a nice meal together when you pull out your phone, casually having it under the table and away from prying eyes. You turn on the vibrator when I least expect it,” your eyes become hazy just thinking about Matthew toying with you. “And all throughout the rest of the meal with people around me and knowing our town, plenty of people coming up to talk — I have to keep my reactions undetectable. No moaning, screaming, begging for more. Just a neutral expression for as long as I can handle it.”

Gulping Matthew wets his dry lips. “How long have you been thinking about this exactly?”

“We’d have to have a safe word or something that would let you know when to turn it up or down. Or when I can’t handle it anymore and I need to come. Yeah…”

Arching a brow Matthew watches you play out the entire scene in your head. Seeing your eyes fixated on something he can’t see. The cogs in your brain turning rapidly. The way your tongue slowly skates across yours lips as your mind slips further into your fantasy. To him, right here and now you’re the most beautiful person to ever grace this earth. Even if your mind is full of  impure thoughts at the moment. 

Leaning over he breaks you out of your daydream with a gentle kiss on the lips. 

“Wh-What was that for?” You giggle. 

“No reason. You just looked really beautiful while thinking is all.”

“Oh, so me thinking about the naughty things I want my husband to do to me somehow makes me beautiful.” 

“Stunning!” Matthew leans into you again, but this time placing his forehead against yours. “I still can’t believe what happened last night.” 

“Neither can I,” she nuzzle your nose with his. “Whatever happened let’s pray that it happens again.”

Smiling softly, Matthew starts to leave gentle kisses on your nose, cheeks, jaw, and heads for your neck.  “Did it feel good?” He asks while his lips gingerly move across your neck. 

Closing your eyes you succumb to him. It felt better than good, sweetie.”

“Maybe when you’re feeling better we can try again.”

Getting lost in his kisses, your arms fall from the tray of food on your lap.  “S-So, it felt good for you too?”

Smiling against your neck, Matthew kisses and sucks hard on your skin near your collarbone. “I wish we had thought about doing that before. Actually,” he pulls away. “I wish I did a lot of things for you and to you before yesterday. I know I’m not perfect and I have a lot to work on but I hope I made up for some of it yesterday.”

“What made you want to eat me out yesterday?”

Startled by your question, the warm and fuzzy mood dissipating quickly, Matthew stills beside you. His complexion growing darker the longer he waits to answer you. “I…well…I mean…” 

“Don’t get me wrong,” you quickly add thinking he’s questioning whether you wanted to have him taste you or not. “It was amazing! I want to feel your lips on me again as soon as possible because for someone who skipped the foreplay department of our marriage you sure knew your way around down there.”

His face now a bright red, Matthew turns away from you, fingers fumbling against each other. “I mean, well you see, I’ve always wanted too…but I couldn’t. How could I? It seemed so…so…”

Reaching out to him you turn his face to you with nothing but love in your eyes. “You always wanted to taste me?”

Lowering his head Matthew nods. “Yes. From the first time we were intimate I’ve wanted to know how you tasted. I just didn’t…no that’s not it…I couldn’t bring it up.”

“Why not?”

“How could I?” He looks at you with innocent eyes. “You’re so beautiful and amazing and strong and confident. To this day I still can’t help but stare at you wondering how I ended up being blessed to have you as my wife. I want to cherish you, respect you, hold you close. Not defile you or treat you like some…”

“Whore?” You giggle.

Scoffing Matthew nods. “Jeno said the same thing.”

“Jeno?”

Freezing, his mouth popping open in an ‘oh shit’ manner he turns his gaze from you. “Yes, yesterday, before he left.”

“You talked to Jeno?”

“Well, I mean we didn’t talk talk but we talked.”

“About our sex life?”

“Not in so many words,” Matthew gulps. 

“I see…” 

Sighing you pick up your spoon and begin eating again. It’s strange. When you talked to Jeno it was more ranting about your life and just wanting someone who doesn’t have a biased opinion give you some advice. Where things ended up should not have happened but it did. There’s no going back or taking back the fact you cheated on Matthew, but hearing Matthew say he talked to Jeno about you…it feels…odd…

As if the one person who you saw as your confidant has now been compromised — not having anyone else to talk to about things that really piss you off. 

Granted you did ask Jeno to get the details about Matthew’s problem but that was a completely different situation than what is going on now. Matthew spoke to Jeno about your intimate life and Jeno somehow convinced Matthew to devour your pussy? After the two of you fucked? That doesn’t make any sense at all…

“You’re mad aren’t you?” Matthew’s worried tone pulls you out of your thoughts. “I didn’t intend on talking to him. He just…he has this soothing nature about him. Sort of like you can talk to him about anything that’s on your mind and he won’t beat around the bush. He’ll tell you exactly what you need to hear. Baby, please!” Matthew holds your hands in his. “Please don’t be mad. I promise I won’t talk to him about us again.”

“I’m not mad,” you laugh trying to play things off as if you don’t mind. “In fact, I suppose I should thank him.” 

“Thank…him…?”

Nodding you go back to eating. It’s the sad but honest truth. What happened last night might be because of whatever Matthew and Jeno talked about. The primal feeling that was coursing through your body chasing not only your high but your husband’s high could in fact be thanks to Jeno. 

“Do you like talking to Jeno?” You ask. Shrugging he stares at you like a child terrified that at any second he’s going to get yelled at. “Do you want to continue to talk to him?”

“We didn’t really get to finish our conversation.”

“Jeno is very easy to talk to. I understand why you felt so at ease around him. I’m thankful that you finally feel comfortable talking to someone. If you want to continue talking to him go ahead. Plus, having a guy friend to talk about guy things might be just what you need.”

“R-Really?” Matthew’s face brightens. 

“Of course, there is just one thing we should keep in mind…” glancing down you take the final bite of your oatmeal. “Let’s just be careful not to talk about things we don’t want anyone else to know about. Okay?”

“Of course!” 

Smirking you move the tray off your lap before wiggling your brows at Matthew. “So, was it your idea or Jeno’s to eat me out yesterday?”

“BABE!!!!”

Sighing in both pain and relief you slide further into the nice warm water. Your muscles beginning to loosen up. Sitting on a chair next to you, Matthew watches over you carefully.

“What are the plans for today?”

“I called Mr. Smith and told him I’d be running late and to have everyone start without me. “We’re hoping to get the basement filled in today and work more on the outer foundations.”

“I was thinking of asking Mrs. Smith and maybe a few other girls to join me and pick out some furnishings. Though I’d love to get straight back to work I think I should take it easy for a while.”

“You shouldn’t have been hauling around bags of cement in the first place.”

“It helped clear my mind. I liked doing it. Plus,” you lean into him. “I was getting sick and tired of hearing half the towns wives lustful thoughts about men other than their husbands. Then again…I don’t want to hear their lustful comments about their husbands.”

Laughing Matthew shakes his head in disbelief. “Perhaps we should talk more about this town.”

“Why?”

“At the picnic yesterday,” he sighs heavily. “I felt your absence. Though I was born and raised here it took you not being by my side to show me that I truly don’t know anyone here. Yes, our congregation is a mixture of parents, grandparents, and families of people we went to school with who moved away — of course the people whom we did go to school with are still here as well, but I just know who they are and what they ask to be forgiven for. That’s it. I don’t know anything that goes on in their personal lives. I didn’t know how to talk to anyone excluding our parents.”

Staring up at Matthew both a feeling of pity and happiness fills your soul. Pity because he must have truly suffered a lot yesterday. Talking to everyone, making small talk, and just ensuring that everyone was happy and being taken care of — non-spiritually, was your job. Having to take on your roll yesterday must have been a lot for him. At the same time, seeing his sullen face shows just how much he needs you and that you are valued. Perhaps more so now than before. 

“You’ve never liked hearing about what’s going around.”

“I can’t help but wonder how much is gossip and how much is fact. Judging people is not up to me or to anyone else, it’s up to God.”

“Yet you judge Roz,” you quickly point out.

Lips curving into a deep frown, Matthew turns from you. “That’s because she’s trying to take you away and corrupt you,” he mumbles.

Giggling you reach out and touch his knee gaining his attention. “I’m not going anywhere. Plus we’d both miss our men far too much. But, as for this town I can assure you 90% is fact! Only 10% is gossip. The people here are crazy! Small towns bring out the true freaks if you know what I mean.”

“90% fact you say?” He moves from the chair down to you, his lips meeting yours in a light kiss. “Give me a little taste.”

“For starters, Bethany my hair dresser,” you begin.

“Is she the one who’s dating Tom down at the bakery?”

“Yep! She apparently slept around A LOT when we were in high school. Like a lot a lot! With people from our school’s rival! I mean yeah some of the guys we went to school with were total dogs and I’m not talking about their attitudes but to sleep with the guys from our rival school Ewwwww! They are complete assholes who have no respect for women at all! Like some of the stuff I heard would make you want to call the cops asap and have them investigated from some of the shit they pulled! Plus they were worse than the guys here in terms of looks! No offense to anyone but it’s true.”

Gaping at you bewildered Matthew tilts his head. “I heard about that. It surprised me. She only transferred to our district about a year and a half before you came. There were rumors about her being…easy, back in middle school. Very promiscuous,” he wiggles his brows.

“No!!!” You lean over the edge of the tub. 

“Yeah. I didn’t believe them she looked super innocent to me. She was also kind of sweet so I just figured the other girls were jealous.”

Waving him off you grab your washcloth and some soap. “Oh she told me she thought you were super cute. She even admitted to wanting to date you but you were far too innocent for her. So, she dated half the guys at our school,” you crack up.

“Bethany wanted to date me?!” Matthew gasps. 

“Ah huh, she said you were her type. Naïve, inexperienced, and ripe for the picking!”

“She told you this?!”

“Of course! We’re friends,” you laugh. “She has been my stylist for two years now. We became close after she did our hair for Roz’s wedding. Plus, she’s the true eyes and ears of this town. She knows everyone’s dirty little secrets!”

“My wife thriving on the towns’ gossip,” he sighs shaking his head amused.

“Hey! It’s only gossip if there are no facts to back it up. Bethany and the others always come with receipts.”

“What about the men?”

“Pfft,” you roll your eyes. “Don’t even get me started. First, let me ask you this, George who works alongside…Anna,” you roll your eyes again. “How long has he been married to Kim?”

“My dad married them when I was in middle school so maybe thirteen years? Give or take.”

“He’s cheated on Kim for half their marriage then.”

“What?!”

“Yep. Jun, at the salon, well he saw George and some blonde woman making out one night at a bar and since has seen him and that woman sneaking around late at night. So, he’s done a little digging and found out that George and this woman have been in contact with each other for years. 

“Pictures of them on ‘company retreats’ passing it off as just a friendly co-worker moment and blah blah blah, but he said the lip lock and their tongues down each other's throats clearly states that they are much much more.”

“Kim is a wonderful woman! How could he? They have children!!”

Shrugging you start washing your body. “They were young when they married, right? Fresh out of high school?”

“Yes…”

“I think they didn’t have time to explore and find out who they truly were and what they actually want. It happens. My uncle the one back where I lived before,” Matthew nods. “He cheated as well. Actually, his wife cheated too.” You chuckle. “At our rehearsal dinner we had a long conversation about the sanctity of marriage. He told me that for him and his wife they were just too young. He said if they had waited until after college and truly got to know each other without the pressures of marriage they may have been able to make it last.”

“What about us,” Matthew whispers.

“What do you mean?” You rid your arms of soap.

“We got married young as well. What if…I don’t…promise me that it won’t happen with us.”

Stilling, your heart starts racing. Knowing full well Matthew isn’t talking about cheating but about the love disappearing you close your eyes, dip your washcloth into the water and pour some water on your chest. 

“Matthew, just because something happened to someone else doesn’t mean it will happen to us.” 

“I just…with the way I’ve been acting…” he mumbles. “I promise I’ll get some help for whatever is going on. I won’t let this marriage end because of me!”

Sighing you finish up and go to stand. Quickly Matthew helps you up but what he doesn’t expect is you wrapping your arms around him, your body soaking his night shirt and shorts. 

“This marriage will not end no matter what, do you hear me?” You state firmly. “I love you, Matthew. I’m in love with you. That will never change.”

Squeezing you tightly in his arms, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. “I love you too. Without you…I’d be lost.”

“Now, enough gossip talk for today. I need to get dried and dressed before Jeno comes over.”

“Or you could stay like this and scare him off.”

“MATTHEW!!”

Lips move across yours lazily. Giggling your hand rests on Matthew’s cheek as he attempts to say goodbye to you for a few hours. It’s strange how all it took was a little release to get the two of you back to snuggling, kissing, and loving each other properly. Still, there is the fact that Matthew needs to get through whatever is holding him back from being inside of you for longer periods of time and from coming inside of you — deciding it wasn’t the time yesterday to talk to him about why he pulled out you opt to save it for another day. Preferably a time when you’re not in pain and can leave if the conversation becomes heated.

Then, there is the issue of whatever is going on between Jeno and yourself. Talking to Matthew about what your uncle told you brought on a wave of guilt you didn’t expect to feel. Yes, you cheated. But Matthew begging, pleading for you not to leave him and pleading for nothing to go wrong between the two of you is what’s killing you. 

When Jeno was inside you, when he kissed you, touched you, tasted you, and came inside you, a huge part of you wanted to be with him. To know what it would be like to be desired the way he desired you. The thrill of not being able to keep your hands off of the other in public, even the thought of it has your heart racing. 

With Matthew…everything is hopefully, someday, and perhaps. It’s always dangingling in front of you but strangely out of reach. Its not a guarantee and that’s what you want. A guarantee that you’ll be loved. A guarantee that when you look into his eyes the most salacious sinful thoughts of what he wants to do to you will bring out the animal in him. But with Matthew, that’s unlikely. 

Yesterday, though amazing, feels like a fevered dream. A manic moment where he acted on impulse instead of rationality. If you were guaranteed a husband that would thrill you more you would have never sought solace in another man’s arms. If you could only have lived in that moment with Matthew for the rest of your life…if only…

“I don’t want to leave you,” Matthew mumbles against your lips.

“Mr. Smith needs you,” you whisper.

“He’s the one leading the construction. I’m just there as support. People respect him. I’m not needed.” His lips trail down to your neck. 

Giggling, you arch your head back giving him more access. “I love feeling your lips on me.”

“Hurry up and get better,” Matthew peeks up at you. “Yesterday was amazing but you’re now very sore and it’s killing me to know I pushed you to this point.”

“I pushed myself, Matthew. Please don’t blame yourself.”

“Still I shouldn’t have —”

“Hello? Matthew?” Jeno’s voice echoes from downstairs. 

Exhaling deeply Matthew sits up. “I guess that’s my cue to leave.”

“Have fun today and don’t overwork yourself,” you give him one final peck on the lips before he pulls away.

“I promise. Just get some rest. I’ll see you in a couple of hours,” he strokes your cheek.

Rushing down the stairs Matthew smiles happily seeing Jeno waiting patiently at the front door. “Sorry for keeping you. She’s having a rough morning.”

Worried Jeno’s eyes widen darting to the staircase. “Is she okay?”

“She’s a little sore from yesterday. She took a bath and some pills so that should help ease some of the discomfort but I think she’ll need a good massage when the painkillers wear off.” He scratches the back of his neck. “I blame myself…”

“Why? You didn’t do anything to her…” Jeno mumbles as guilt washes over him.

“Well that’s not entirely true…you know how yesterday we were talking? And you mentioned that I should be a little less restrictive in my interactions with her?”

Tilting his head Jeno nods slowly. “Less restrictive?” He chuckles. “You mean when I told you to stop treating her like a porcelain doll?”

“Precisely!” Matthew claps his hands shouting joyfully. “Well… last evening…what I mean to say is…” he pulls at the collar of his t-shirt. “We’re friends, right? I can confide in you…?” He gulps loudly.

Friends? Jeno scoffs internally. “I would say we’re on friendly terms so yes you can confide in me.” Slowly at the sides of his arms Jeno’s hands ever so slowly ball up into fists.

“Well…we might have fooled around a little and things got out of hand and that’s why her back is killing her. It’s all my fault!” Matthew lowers his head in shame. “I shouldn’t have initiated anything. I shouldn’t have acted like I did…I don’t know what came over me… so any pain that she feels today is all because of me…I just hope she won’t be in bed any longer than necessary…”

Matthew goes on and on about how guilty he feels asking question after question and rationalizing what happened last night, letting a few things slip past his lips. The words, eating, pleasure, and you on top are the only things his brain picks up from Matthew’s babbling. 

“You don’t think she’ll be in bed longer do you?”

Shaking his head Jeno runs a stressed hand through his hair. “Well, any physical activity might have caused more harm than good, or it might have helped. She needed to get some kind of activity going on so her muscles can loosen up but maybe that went a little too far,” he tries his best to chuckle. “I’ll be sure to work out any kinks she might have. I know staying in bed isn’t her favorite thing in the world.”

“Tell me about it. She’s already talking about what she can do with the project once she’s better. I  would actually prefer it if she stayed far away from this project. I don’t want her to get ahead of herself and get hurt again.”

“She knows her limits so I wouldn’t worry too much about that. Plus, what is she supposed to do when you leave for hours to work on the house? Sit at home and knit?” Jeno chuckles. “She’ll be fine,” he claps a hand on Matthew’s shoulder. “She’ll have the women to keep her company and if need be I’ll help keep an eye on her.”

“Really?!” Matthew perks up. “You’d really help me watch out for her?”

“Of course.”

“You have no idea how much that means to me. Well, I better get going before Mr. Smith throws a fit. She’s upstairs in our room. She’s eaten some breakfast so you won’t have to worry about that. I’ll be back around 5 this evening. If you don’t have any plans I’d love to continue our conversation from yesterday over dinner.”

“Our conversation?” Jeno tilts his head. “About your bedroom situation?”

Rubbing the back of his neck Matthew chuckles. “You REALLY helped us.”

“Well, if it really helped, sure we can talk. Try not to tire yourself out today.”

“Will do! And thanks, Jeno.”

“Mmm…”

✞ＴＥＮＳＩＯＮ ＲＥＬＥＡＳＥ✞

Sighing against the fluffy pillow on your bed you hear muffled voices downstairs. Your brain running over every scenario that could be discussed between Matthew and Jeno, but your mind keeps drifting back to Matthew’s confession of talking to Jeno about your love life. Yes, you talked to Jeno about it, but that’s different. Right…?

Suddenly footsteps start to ascend the stairs and for some strange reason you’re terrified to see Jeno. Yesterday, you were awkward, nervous, but excited. Today, after what happened between the two of you and then your husband…how can you dare look him in the eyes? 

His footsteps draw closer. A shadow creeps into view on the floor outside the master bedroom. Your heart beats like a drum in your ears. Your mind grows foggy. 

This is ridiculous! You scream internally. 

This is just Jeno! Your friend! Your best friend’s cousin! He’s practically family! There’s no need to be scared of him.

Jeno comes into view. Hair slicked back slightly. Eyes staring you down as he leans against the door frame. His arms and legs crossing with the most accusatory smirk on his face.

Shit…

“For someone who got their rocks off twice yesterday you’re looking quite well.” He snickers.

“Fuck you, Jeno!” You grumble.

“You will once you’re better.”

Cheeks blazing with heat your head rises slowly. Eyes glistening with a million and one different emotions. “Wh-What?!”

Pushing off the wall, Jeno saunters ever so slowly towards you. His eyes staring you down as if he were the predator and you his prey. “A little birdie told me that you had some fun last night but now you’re sore.” Shaking his head he sighs. “I do blame myself for some of the soreness, but you,” he chuckles sitting down next to you. “You went overboard.”

“What all do you know?”

Shrugging, Jeno peers down at you. “Not a lot actually. Care to explain why your husband is worried sick about you?”

Turning from him you slide down into bed, your arms crossing over you as if to protect you from his judging gaze. “We just fooled around is all.”

“Fooled around, oh yes, that makes sense.” 

“What do you want a play by play?” You snap.

“No, but a little indication of how much pressure I’m going to need to use to help work out the kinks in your back would help.” Getting up he goes down to the foot of the bed. “Brace yourself.” He winks.

“Wh-Wha…AHHHHHH!!!” You scream when he grabs your ankles and yanks you down till your flat on your back. “Shit!!! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You groan.

“That is for fooling around twice yesterday. I admit I shouldn’t have fucked you until your back was better, but you missy, what the hell were you thinking?! A second round when your back is so fucked up you can barely move on your own…are you crazy?!”

Not saying a word you do the only thing your body will allow you to do, flip him the bird.

“That’s mature of you.”

“And yanking me down like that is mature?!”

Now next to you, Jeno motions with his finger for you to turn onto your stomach.

“I can’t,” you whimper.

“Don’t make me flip you over. I won’t be gentle.” Groaning you flip yourself over in one breath. “See you could do it,” he gives your ass a light slap.

“Remind me to kick your ass when I’m feeling better.”

“I’ll be counting the days until you’re better.”

Crawling onto the bed and on top of you, Jeno straddles your hip. Sitting just below your bottom he pushes your loose fitted shirt up to your shoulders. Blowing on his fingers so that they’re not icy he starts to rub over your aching muscles.

A long moan moves past your lips as Jeno works his magic. “Fuck why do you have to be so god at this?”

Chuckling Jeno rubs over your lower back where most of the pain lies. “This is part of my job, you know. I should be good at it.”

“If you keep this up players may get hurt on purpose.”

Sliding his hands up your spine you melt into his touch. His hands curve around your shoulders giving them a little massage before slowly moving his way back down to right above your tailbone.

“Matthew invited me to stay for dinner tonight.”

“Oh?” You peek back to see a strange look on his face. “Matthew’s a wonderful cook. I don’t know what he’s planning on making but I’m sure you’ll love it.”

“He wants to talk to me about you and him.”

“I see…” Jeno’s hands still which causes you to look back again to see him looking down a darkness shrouding his face. “Jeno…” you whisper.

“What happened last night after I left?”

“What?”

“Why does your husband want to talk to me about his problems fucking his wife?”

“Wait…what?!”

“You said that the two of you fooled around, right?”

“Yeah…but I don’t understand how that has anything to do with what you just said.”

“What did he do to you? Why are you in your bedroom and not the guest room?”

“Jeno…please…”

“Tell me!” He shouts. “I need to know why I’m going to have to give your husband advice about how to fuck the person I’m trying so hard not to fuck right now! Why does he want to talk to me? I know I agreed to this arrangement but that’s because it was just for you, because I —” sighing he slides off of you. “Did he fuck you last night?”

Struggling to get to your knees you manage to sit up enough to crawl back to your pillows to rest your back. “If you’re asking me if his penis went inside of me, yes. If you’re asking me if he fucked me like you did, the answer is no.”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Matthew…” you sigh. “He’s going through something, like I said. Last night, hell, I should thank you for last night.”

“Please don’t.” 

“Come here,” you tap his shoulder with your foot. Glancing up and back he sees your arms opened wide for him. “Come here, Jeno.”

Rolling his eyes he scoffs. “I’m a grown ass man. I don’t need to be coddled like a child.”

“A woman has her arms open for you and you deny laying against her. Wow…”

“If it’s for pity then hell yeah I won’t go into your arms!”

“It’s not for pity. It’s for comfort. Something is bothering you. Jeno, as much as you helped me and were there for me, I want to be there for you.”

“I gave you a nice fuck that was it. I hardly think that constitutes as helping you and being there for you.”

“JENO!” You shout startling him. “Either get your pouting behind up here or leave now!”

Shocked his eyes dart across your face. Defeated he plops down on top of you. His arms encircling your waist while his head rests on your chest.

“I do need to thank you. Yesterday,” you giggle. “Yesterday you made me feel like I was someone to be desired. That I wasn’t made of glass. Matthew treats me with kid gloves but you,” your hand runs through his hair. “You treated me how I’ve always dreamed Matthew would treat me. To just fuck the shit out of me!” 

“Damn you have issues don’t you?” Jeno chuckles, glancing up at you.

“Yes, I do.” You say bluntly.

“I didn’t mean it like that…”

“I do have issues. What I want and desire go against what my husband finds suitable. However, last night after you left, something changed in Matthew’s demeanor. He looked at me like a husband who wanted to dive into the depths of lust and desire. For once in our whole marriage I thought this is it! This is what I’ve been waiting for.”

“So he did fuck you…”

“Yes, and no. It was only when he was going to come did he enter me. And even then,” you groan. “He didn’t finish inside of me. He never does.”

“And that’s a problem?” 

“Yes and no. When you came inside of me,” you start to feel your face getting warm. “I don’t know there was something very intimate about the act that I loved. I just wish Matthew understood how I feel about it.”

“Are you not going to tell me what happened? I mean who knows,” Jeno kisses your neck tenderly. “Maybe we can give it a shot too.”

“I was on top of him grinding against him. That’s it.”

Pulling away from you Jeno’s gaze goes from shocked to furious. “Well no shit your back is killing you! Are you crazy?! I tried my damndest to make sure your back wasn’t going to strain too much and here you are sputtering on top of your husband like a crazy person!”

“It was in the heat of the moment!”

“Heat of the moment my ass! That’s it, on your stomach! Now I’ve got to try to work out all of your stupid mistakes and then some!”

“Come on we were having a nice moment…”

“On your stomach now!!!”

“WHY?!!!!!!”

“Je-Jeno…” your breath hitches as his fingers ghost over your inner thighs. 

“Hush, I’m working.”

“Are you?” You hold back a moan.

“This is a full body massage. You acted stupid and reckless so now we’re going through preventative measures.”

“And your hands between my thighs are for what reason?”

“Did I not speak clearly when I said full body massage?” 

Squeezing tightly at your quadriceps, Jeno moves his hands up over your pelvic bones and back down to your thighs. Now laying in your back after an eon of Jeno tortuously working out the severe kinks in your back he decided to give you a full body massage. Sort of a sorry for breaking you even more than you were already broken. However, every time he slides his hands up and down your thighs, his ring and pinky fingers ghost between your legs — ever so close to your core.

“You know you really didn’t need to give me a full body massage. I was fine after the back massage. This is a little much…” you squeak feeling his pinky finger graze your outer folds. “JENO!” 

Licking his lips Jeno looks down at you innocently. “What is it?”

“You know exactly what! You’re trying to touch me!”

“Sweetheart if I was going to touch you I would have already. Like I said this is a full body massage and I want to be as thorough as possible.”

“Thorough my ass…”

With one quick glance to see your gaze is off to the side Jeno slips his hands between your legs gripping your inner thighs. 

“Jeno!!!!”

“I need to massage your inner thighs too. Geez you’re jumpy.” He tsks.

“I’m not…you’re doing this on purpose!” You gulp feeling your body become warmer the longer this massage progresses.

“Doing what on purpose?”

“Damn it, Jeno!”

Sliding his hands out from between your legs, he looms over you, his arms holding his body up. Lowering himself to where his breath cascades over your face he chuckles. “I promise nothing is going to happen unless you want it to happen. Yesterday,” he lowers himself more, the heat from his body mixing with yours. “Yesterday we were caught up in our emotions. Today, well, I don’t want to break you.” 

“Break me? How in the hell do you think you’ll break me?”

“Yesterday was a taste of what’s to come in the future,” leaning on one arm, Jeno’s other hand travels down your body gently until he cups your core. Your breath hitches as his eyes darken. “So do both me and your husband a favor and get better soon. Mostly for me though,” bending down he snags your lower lip between his teeth.

“Ahhhh!!!! Jeno!!”

“What?” He pulls back smiling sweetly. 

Your pelvis raises to meet his hand. Adding some pressure that you desperately needed to feel. “Help me…”

“Which way do you prefer?” He places a kiss on your lips. “Mouth,” he licks your lips. “Or fingers?”

“Mouth!!” You gasp when he rubs over your pulsing nub over top your pajama shorts.

“Excellent choice,” he growls before pulling away from you. 

“J-Just this…o-okay? Nothing more!” You try to lay some ground rules.

Settling between your legs, Jeno makes himself comfortable. “Of course. I wouldn’t think of doing more.”

“Jeno…” you whisper.

“Yes?”

“Are you sure you’re okay with this?”

The room becomes quiet as the two of you stare into each other's eyes. Reaching up, Jeno grabs the waistband of your shorts as well as your underwear and yanks them down your legs until you can pull one leg out. Leaving the other leg entangled with your clothing, he pushes your right leg open to give him access to your soaking cunt. 

“Enough with those questions. If and when I have a problem with things you’ll be the first to know.”

Gripping onto the bed sheets for what’s about to come you brace yourself. But what happens next shocks you…

Leaning in, Jeno kisses over your mound gently. His lips barely touching you. Feeling as if a feather was lightly brushing against your skin. Taking his time to leave no area untouched you find this soft and sweet side very arousing and shocking. 

Not that you’re complaining but Jeno has an air about him that when he looks at you all you want to do is spread your legs and have him fuck the daylights out of you. To have him kissing your soaking outer folds with such tenderness is unexpected, but extremely enjoyable!

Looking up with a look in his eyes you haven’t seen yet, he spreads open your folds giving your clit a little smooch as well. Jerking slightly he continues his sweet actions until every part of your pussy has been shown some form of affection. 

“Jeno~~~” you moan gently.

Smiling lightly at the sound of you saying his name, he sticks out his tongue and licks a stripe from your entrance to your clit.

“Ahhh~~~ yes!!!”

Wrapping his lips around your overly sensitive bundle of nerves he suckles on your clit like a newborn babe — giving himself a break to breathe every now and then he doesn’t stop pleasuring you. He sucks, licks, and lapse all of your juices that seep from you. 

Your body coming alive as a particular swipe of his tongue at your entrance has your slick pouring out of you, Jeno does a good job of cleaning you up.

“You taste amazing,” he compliments with a loud slurp of your juices. “I should have done this yesterday!”

“My pussy is yours anytime you want it,” you say deliriously.

Peering up and seeing the rise and fall of your chest and your already fucked out expressions, Jeno lowers himself back to your pussy. “I wouldn’t say that if I were you…” He warns. 

Wrapping his arms around your thighs, he pulls you down closer to his mouth. Diving into your pussy with more vigor, he has your back arching in mere seconds. Gripping onto his hair you keep him right where you want him. His lips smooching your clit, his tongue flicking quickly over your bud driving you closer to the edge. 

Hips starting to grind against his face, he swiftly pushes down on your pelvic bones. “Don’t strain your back,” he pops up between your legs — face flustered pink, lips swollen, with your slick all over his lips and chin.

“Your mouth feels too good. I can’t help it.” You whimper. 

“When you’re better you can ride my face, okay? But for now,” he dives back down giving your pussy — entrance to clit, a long hard lick, “keep your back flat and your hips down,” he kisses your inner thigh.

“Fine…” you grumble.

“Good girl,” he whispers.

The moment Jeno whispers ‘good girl’ your body engulfs in flames. From your toes to the top of your head your body tingles with something you’ve never felt before. How could two simple words cause you to react in such a way. 

Now, the slightest touch from him has you moaning loudly. A mere flick of his tongue has your body sliding down closer to his mouth. Your breath choppy as you try to breathe. The air not making it quite to your lungs before another moan escapes you. Heart pounding in your chest and ears your stomach starts to churn. Heat pooling to your core, your hand flails to Jeno’s hair gripping on it tightly.

“Don’t you fucking stop, Jeno.” You groan.

Sucking on your clit harder, groan after groan comes from you. Wanting to twist and turn, to grind against his lips, to do something to quicken things to reach your climax you do the only thing you can do — fist the bed sheets until you can’t feel your fingers. 

“Fuck! Yes! Yes!!!” You thrash your arms down onto the bed. “Faster!!! Please!!! Faster!!!”

Keeping his tongue out, Jeno bobs his head up and down while his tongue skates over your clit and entrance. Holding your folds wide open he slurps and soaks every inch of your pussy. Your body starts to tremble as the swiftness of his tongue starts to send you over. 

Legs starting to enclose around him your eyes roll to the back of your head. 

“Sh-Sh-Shit!!!!” You screech. “Ahhh fuck!!!!”

Pulling back from you, Jeno hastily rubs his fingers over your clit. 

“Fuck!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!”

A burst of liquid comes from you in a stream. Doing his best, Jeno bends down taking your squirt into his mouth. Clamping his mouth over your pussy, your juices have no other place to go but down his throat. Drinking you up, he takes every last bit of your essence. 

Body twitching and sensitive, Jeno lapse up some of your squirt that dropped from the corners of his mouth. Using his tongue he makes sure that you’re as clean as can be before coming up to you for a kiss.

“Thanks for that,” he smirks against your lips. “Was a little thirsty there.” 

“Tha-That was…amazing!!!” You wrap your legs around his waist. “Fuck, Jeno!”

Crashing his lips onto yours, you clean up the mess you made. Relishing in the taste of your essence, your eyes for a second time roll back into your head. But not before you lick over his neck to get the remnants of your slick. 

“Now I can’t wait till I’m better!” You sigh. Your head falling back against the bed.

Laying his body on top of yours,  you wrap your arms around Jeno securely. “Why?”

“If you made me come that much when I wasn’t able to do anything, imagine when I’m better and can ride your face!” You squeal.

Busting out in laughter Jeno buries his face in the crook of your neck. “You want to drown me don’t you?”

“Never!!! But I am certified in CPR if anything happens.” You giggle hugging him tightly.  

✞ＴＥＮＳＩＯＮ ＲＥＬＥＡＳＥ✞

“Sweetheart! Jeno!!!” Matthew shouts as he walks through the door. Body drenched in sweat with a pizza and a small bag in hand. 

“She’s upstairs taking a nap,” Jeno raises a finger to his lips coming down the stairs as quietly as possible. “She passed out after the massage.”

“Well, we’ll have to save some pizza for her then.” He holds up the box. “I also picked up some soda on the way home.”

“Oh wow a pizza!!!”

“Didn’t know what you liked so I just got pepperoni and some Cola.”

“Perfect, let’s eat!”

Heading to the kitchen, Jeno offers to carry the pizza and the sodas. Setting them down at the table he glances over at Matthew who cools himself off with some cold water from the sink. The atmosphere light and less awkward then this morning. 

“Was she really tight today?” Matthew asks taking a seat at the table.

“Yeah, her lower back had a lot of tough knots but I think the pain meds and the massage will take away any discomfort.”

“It was my fault. After our conversation I got ahead of myself when I should have just let her rest.” Matthew states popping open a can of cola and sliding it to Jeno.

“Thanks,” Jeno takes a sip. “Exactly what was it about our conversation that led you to do whatever it was.” Curiosity getting the best of him, Jeno leans forward. “What exactly happened, if you don’t mind me asking.”

His face turning a bright pink, Matthew pops open his can of soda chugging a good amount down. “Uhhh, well, we kind of…we-we didn’t do it do it, but we did other things.” He fidgets in his seat.

“Wait, you guys didn’t fuck? Why not?” Jeno chuckles trying to keep the mood light, however inside his stomach churns in an uncomfortable manner. 

“You can’t expect me to fu…I mean have intercourse with my wife when she’s in pain!!!”

“I mean missionary’s always an option. It’s okay but not my favorite. Why not go with that?”

“Missionary?” Matthew peeks up from looking at his soda.

“You know when the girls on her back and the guys in between her legs. The typical position. Now me,” he leans in smirking. “While missionary is great, there’s something about the woman on top, or taking her from behind.” Jeno wiggles his brows.

Opening up the box of pizza Matthew takes out a slice and urges Jeno to start eating as well. “From behind…” he whispers. “An-And women like this?”

Munching on the slice of pizza Jeno shrugs. “Depends,” he takes a swig of soda. “Every woman is different. What does…oh shit…maybe I shouldn’t ask…” he laughs.

“Ask what?”

“I was just about to ask what your wife likes in bed.”

“I…I ummm…I know she likes oral,” his face brightens more. “Sort of found that out last night.” Realizing what he just said Matthew sits up straight. “DON’T TELL HER I TOLD YOU!”

“Anything we talk about is safe between us. I won’t say anything. I swear.” Seeing Matthew settle back down Jeno asks in a whisper, “so, she liked you eating her out?”

“A LOT!! I always wanted to try it but…it just felt…dirty, you know?”

“Nope.” Jeno chuckles. “Sex is a part of life. There are moments where it’s sweet and loving or passionate and aggressive and other times where it’s just downright nasty, but even in those moments it’s about the connection. Whether it’s with a lifelong partner or a one night stand. Two souls, two bodies connected for a brief time…That’s what I love about it.”

“How many people have you been with?”

“Three,” Jeno sighs. “Kind of lame when you think about it. My first time was when I was fourteen. She was a year older and I wanted to seem mature and it lasted all of thirty seconds I think. It was fucking embarrassing! So, when I did it for the second time, a different girl, I basically trained like I was aiming for the Olympics. 

“Figured out how to last longer and just realized that even if I came that doesn’t mean it was over. I always make sure that my ladies are thoroughly satisfied. If it takes multiple rounds, so be it. I just want both of us to feel fulfilled by the end of it.”

“And the third person?” Matthew asks. “I’m sure you’ve learned to master things by then.”

Clearing his throat, Jeno averts his gaze. “The third woman,” he says softly. “She was someone I didn’t really know. Someone I had heard about through an acquaintance. But the stories they told and how well a picture they painted of her, man…when I finally met her I couldn’t believe my eyes. 

“An absolute beauty. I fucked up in the beginning — said something I shouldn’t, but she was very kind and understanding. She made me feel…seen…you know?” Shaking his head Jeno exhales deeply pushing his can of soda away from him. “Well, anyway, I wish things turned out different but when we did have sex,” he snickers. “It was fucking amazing! The best I ever had. Of course it was…Her heart wasn’t available…”

“You guys broke up?”

“We were never together. She was…is…in love with someone else.”

“I’m sorry Jeno…I know there is someone out there for you. I mean look at me. I never would have thought I’d have such a beautiful wife but here I am!” Reaching over the table Matthew touches Jeno’s hand giving him a reassuring smile. “Just have faith and hang in there.”

Pretending to be embarrassed Jeno looks down and away. “Thanks…anyway…back to the subject at hand. So it seems like you took some of my advice about letting loose. Think you’ll do it again?”

“ABSOLUTELY!” Matthew beams. “Maybe not now though. I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Yes, please try to keep the fooling around to a minimum.” Jeno laughs holding up his hands. “I think I might get carpal tunnel if the two of you do anything else.”

For the rest of the evening Jeno stayed and talked to Matthew. Strangely having quite a nice time. Matthew, despite being a man of God, was a pretty down to earth person. And yet, as he walks away from your home a darkness seems to surround him. Did he fuck things up for himself and you before the two of you truly experienced each other? Or is Matthew all bark and no bite?

Sighing and shaking his head Jeno takes one look up at your bedroom before sliding his hands into his pants pockets. “As much as it was nice talking to you Matthew,” he whispers to himself. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to walk away after today…” 

With a roll of his eyes Jeno disappears into the night.

TO BE CONTINUED…

✞ tag list ✞ if i forgot you or if you want to be added just let me know right here and i’ll add you. thanks and see you in the next part! @raquelvsblog @sfsrm-blog @matchahyuck @kikiisda1 @cheyehc 

[callsignspark]

Mar[r]y Me | part four

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, an asshole man from Hinge, discussions of body image, conversations on what it’s like to be a fat woman trying to date in today’s society, suggestive language, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 6.6k

previous part | main masterlist

note: happy Friday! I am extremely excited about this part and I can't wait to hear everyone's thoughts on this chapter!! a big thanks to Jordan for all the yelling in the DMs over this one as I was writing it. and thank you for the love on three and 3.5!

part four - perfect post-beach meal

Ding Dong!

The doorbell echoes through the house, disturbing Mary, but not fully waking her.

Ding Dong!

Her left eye cracks open and immediately shuts, pulling the quilt over her pounding head to block the sunshine streaming through the blinds. I knew I would regret that fourth glass of wine last night.

Ding Dong!

The third ring makes her decide that whoever is at the door can go fuck themselves. Jehovah’s Witness or Girl Scout be damned. If it was important, her phone would be ringing.

Brrrrrring! Brrrrrring! 

The ringer volume alone makes her stomach churn, combined with the brightness of her screen as Danielle’s face flashes at her; it’s an all-out assault on her hungover existence. She questions every decision she’s made since turning eighteen.

Ding Dong!

“Please tell me this is an emergency.”

“Answer the door. Then chug some water and sling back a few Tylenol.”

The line clicks off.

Ding Dong!

“I should have partnered with Brett for chemistry. He was dumb as a box of rocks and couldn’t stop staring at my tits. But I think it would have been a better decision overall.” The doorbell goes off again, somehow sounding more aggressive. “Alright, I’m coming. I’m coming.”

Rolling out of bed and getting her robe on without dry heaving feels like an accomplishment and a half. Her trek to the front door takes an eternity, the previous night’s wreckage strewn through the house.

Her bra lays outside her bedroom door, in the same place she dropped it after her intoxicated brain decided it had to go.

The uncomfortable dress, the one Danielle had spent hours talking her into, is crumbled in the hallway. The zipper is probably broken, she thinks mournfully, remembering how she had struggled to get the restrictive piece of clothing off by herself.

Her heels are unceremoniously dumped next to the front door. What had started as a cute outfit decision had quickly turned into a nightmare accessory and almost resulted in a sprained ankle when the evening took a turn.

She’s glaring at the culprit of her current state - the empty wine bottle and a lone glass - when she catches sight of the time.

“Who the fuck is at my door at 8:30 in the morning.” She exclaims to an empty house.

Ding Dong!

She rips the door open, ready to yell at Reuben for interrupting her much-needed post-cry sleep but loses all of her steam when she comes face to face with Bradley.

“Wha-” She doesn’t even get a chance to finish her one-word question when a tiny body slams into her legs.

“Auntie Mary!” Annabeth disappears into her house before she can process what’s happening.

“Don’t worry! I got her!” Jake - where the fuck did he come from? - hustles past her, following the little girl. “Cute outfit, M&M.”

The exaggerated wink he sends her way reminds her of what she’s currently wearing, the realization washing over her head like a bucket of ice water.

Her bathrobe is covering her favorite silky nightdress.

And nothing else.

She pulls her robe together, tying the knot as tight as possible and clutching the top together with her fist. Her panic causes her to miss the longing look in Bradley’s eyes. His brain focusing on the width of her hips, the dip of her waist before traveling up and locking on the way her nipples press against the pink fabric.

The confusion and stress on her face snaps him out of it. He hands over her favorite drink from Starbucks - something he is very proud of himself for memorizing - and doesn’t say anything until she’s taken a sip.

“We’re babysitting today.” Her mouth opens, but nothing comes out except for a squeak. Bradley’s eyebrows shoot up, “Are you okay?”

Mary’s head drops and she groans, moving her hand from her robe to rub her forehead. He’s not sure what to do, slightly distracted by the cleavage that has appeared, when she turns and waves him into the house. He locks the door and follows her toward her room, slowing down as he takes in the trail of clothing leading down the hall.

He catches up to her in the bedroom, eyeing the messy, unmade bed. “Did we interrupt something?”

“What could you have interrupted?” She questions, taking some pills with a water bottle from her nightstand, following it up with a big gulp of her iced tea. “Why am I babysitting?”

“We’re babysitting. To give Reuben and Danielle a bit of a break. I’m not confident enough to try and watch the baby, but I know I can handle a preschooler.”

“How did I get pulled into this?”

“She knows you better, and frankly, trying to brave the bathroom situation seemed like too much for my first time. So I needed another adult, preferably a woman, preferably you.”

“And Jake is here because?”

“We’re giving Javy a break, too.” She snorts at his joke. “Get ready; we’re going to the beach! They sent us with snacks, sand toys, and enough sunscreen to cover the entire 7th fleet.”

“I need to shower and eat something.”

“Go ahead and shower; we’ve got time. I brought you a ham and cheese croissant.”

“I have some watermelon and baby carrots in the fridge. Can you pack those up and put them in the cooler while I get ready? The cooler is in my office.”

“On it.” He’s already moving toward the kitchen, throwing a thumbs up over his shoulder and forcing himself not to look back where he knows she’s undoing her bathrobe.

She’s brushing her teeth, feeling better after washing away the previous night’s disappointment, when she has the sudden realization that her clothes are still littering the floor. Mary hustles out of the ensuite and can feel her face start to burn when she sees the remnants of her outfit sitting on the dresser. She swallows her pride and walks into the kitchen, which she’s surprised to see has been cleaned. “Where’s Annie?”

“They’re outside, and she’s giving Jake a lesson on… something. He’s gotten smacked with her fairy wand about seven times so far, so she’s either cursing him or fixing him. Only time will tell.” He turns from where he’s washing a knife. “That baggie has your croissant. You ready to go?”

“Did you put my clothes in my room?” She blurts it out and immediately wants to hide in her room.

“Uhh, yeah.” He scratches the back of his neck, red blooming on his cheeks. “Sorry if that’s weird.”

“No! Not- I just-” She stutters over her words. “I wasn’t expecting it! It’s nice, but you didn’t have to do that. You also didn’t have to clean the kitchen. Thank you!”

“No problem; Danielle mentioned you went out with a friend last night, and you might be a bit hungover, so I figured I’d help some; besides, you only had like five things in the sink. It took no time.”

“Well, thank you.” A muffled shout comes from the yard, and Jake storms into the house with Annie tucked under his arm like a football.

“Okay, is it time to go yet? Annie Oakley and I are ready to dig in the sand! Race you to the front door!” He plops her on the floor and pretends to take off, watching as the little girl books it towards the door.

He shoves something at Mary’s chest. “We are leaving that fucking wand here. She keeps smacking me and telling me her spell isn’t working. That I’m still not “cute” like Bob. Fucking, Bob.”

“Jake!”

“Coming, munchkin! Hide that thing now!” As he jogs toward the front door, the hissed instruction breaks the other two.

“We should probably go before our children get into another fight.” Mary giggles at Bradley’s statement, grabbing her beach bag and food, her brain rotating the “our children” over and over in her mind.

“For you!” Annie shoves a seashell into Bradley’s hand.

“Oh, thank you! Look at how pretty this one is, Mary.” He shows off the tiny pink shell before putting it in his pocket.

“You’re growing quite the collection.” Mary mummers, smiling as she’s gifted a tiny lavender shell. The morning had been filled with splashing in the waves and building sandcastles that did not want to stay up, and then Annie wanted to look for seashells.

“So are you.” He puts the shell in his other pocket, the one holding everything Annie has handed Mary. “Jake is going to be so jealous.”

The two adults pause their meandering to look back at their blanket, where Jake volunteered to stay and watch their stuff. Apparently, he’s made a friend while waiting for the other Daggers to arrive.

Mary runs her eyes over the woman flirting with Jake. Her body is encased in a red string bikini that perfectly fits her thin, tanned figure. She suddenly feels very secure in her decision to keep her coverup dress on.

“Hey, how was New York? How’s your family? I feel like I haven’t seen you since the Secret Santa party.” She turns her attention back to Rooster, who has crouched down to assist in the search for more shells. “This one is for mommy? Okay.”

“Christmas was good; family is fine. Everyone was their usual selves, so nothing new there. Although I’m 74% sure my favorite cousin is pregnant again, and no one else has figured it out yet. So, now it’s just a matter of waiting for a Facebook announcement post to see if I’m right.”

She smiles when she hears laughter coming from the blanket; Jake deserves someone who makes him happy. Her good mood disappears in an instant as Annabeth starts splashing in the shallow water, soaking the bottom half of her coverup.

“Oh, Annie!” She stops herself from yelling, knowing the preschooler didn’t do it maliciously. “Okay, how about we have some watermelon and dry off before lunch arrives?”

The little girl sprints up to Bradley, raising her arms to be picked up. “What? You want a piggyback ride?”

She shrieks in joy when he flips her onto his back and starts jogging toward their spot, moving very carefully to avoid hurting her. Mary follows behind them at a slower pace, dreading the visual of what she’ll look like next to the blonde goddess who has joined Jake on his towel.

“There’s my favorite girl!” Jake catches Annabeth as she jumps into his arms the moment Bradley sets her down.

Her tiny hands clasp his face. “Watermelon.” She demands, making the four adults laugh.

“Watermelon, please.” Bradley gently reminds her, already opening the cooler, handing the sunscreen to Mary when she reaches for it.

“Watermelon, please.”

“Come here, baby.” Mary puts her arms out for Annie. “We gotta reapply sunscreen, and then we can have watermelon.”

“Nooo!” She whines, trying to hide in Jake’s neck.

“The sun is hot! We need to make sure we’re protected, kiddo!” Jake assists.

“Jake too?”

“Yes, me too.”

That’s all she needs to allow herself to be sprayed with the sun protectant, insisting on holding Jake’s hand while Mary sprays him down too. She’s happily munching watermelon on Jake’s lap when she asks, “Who are you?”

“I’m Tammy, a friend of Jake’s sister! I just stopped to say hi for a second. What’s your name?”

“Annabeth Fitch! I’m four years old.”

“Annabeth! That’s a pretty name!” She looks down the beach, waving at a group getting ready to leave. “I gotta go, but it was good to see you, Jake. I’ll have to tell Olivia I ran into you when we get back to school! I love your suit, by the way, it’s so cute! Bye, guys!”

Her last statement is directed at Mary, who has pulled her damp coverup off to dry in the sun and is standing there in her black one-piece. Bradley gulps, thankful that his sunglasses block his slow pursual of her figure. She looks incredible. Curves in all his favorite places, and her clipped-up hair shows off the neck he’s dreamt of marking up.

A low whistle interrupts his favorite daydream, the one that includes Mary, the backseat of his Bronco, and the dog tags he never wears but stores in his glove box.

“Damn, Mariella!” Phoenix is leering over her sunglasses, arm in arm with Yale’s very pregnant wife, Kristina, who is pumping her fist and chanting her name. Logan, Bob, and Javy slowly follow behind, carrying beach supplies, while the Lee kids run straight to Annabeth.

“Oh my god, stop it, you two!” Mary laughs, her face red enough that Bradley isn’t sure if it’s from their cat calls or the sun.

“Absolutely not! You look hot!” Kris' attempt at a hug turns into a side squeeze, her belly getting in the way. “We brought pasta salad, but please tell me you have more watermelon. It’s all baby #4 has had me craving.”

“We do! It’s in the cooler behind the pile of children on Jake; help yourself!”

The guys finally arrive with chairs, a cooler, and other supplies. The adults catch up while Kristina lays out ground rules for her kids before handing out sandwiches and bowls of pasta salad to everyone.

The men wolf down their food before starting a two-on-two football game, and the kids beg Bob to help them build a sandcastle, a request he happily completes, leaving the three women relaxing in chairs. They spend the next few hours in relative silence under the umbrellas, reading and occasionally chatting or reapplying sunscreen to the children and Bob. 

It’s when Bradley makes his way back to their spot, carrying the youngest Lee, that things change. He hands the three-year-old off to her mother. “Yale said she was getting cranky, and it might be good to let her chill with you guys.”

“Yeah, it’s almost her N-A-P time. Come here, sweetie, let’s cuddle a little.”

Bradley groans, “An N-A-P sounds good. Is there room for me under the umbrella, honey?”

“Of course, you should put more sunscreen on if you’re going to lay down, though.” She ignores the eyes burning into the side of her face and the jaws that drop when she complies with his ask for help getting his back.

Using her folded coverup as a pillow, he lays on his stomach in the shade and gets comfortable. “Wake me up if you need something.”

She gets exactly ten minutes of peace, just enough time for Andrea and Bradley to fall asleep, before the other two start in on her.

“So, I heard you had a date last night. How did that go?” Kris tees up, casually flipping through her magazine.

“Oh! Where did you meet him?” Natasha’s faux innocence annoys her.

“Well, if Dani told you that I had a date, then I’m sure she also told you how bad it was.” She snaps, staring steadfastly at her book and pretending to read. She isn’t actually reading; she can’t. The words have started to blur together from her tears. “And if she told you how bad it was, then you definitely know we met on an app.”

The sniffle that punctuates her sentence springs the other two into motion.

Nat sits in front of her in the sand, taking the book from her, and Kris holds her hand, her mom voice kicking.

“Hey, woah, okay. What’s wrong? How bad is bad? Did he hurt you?” Mary shakes her head, taking a deep breath to avoid crying. “Want to talk about it?”

“I went home to Brooklyn for Christmas as usual, but with this new job, I get more days off during the holidays, so I stayed longer than normal. Which was a mistake. All it meant was three extra days of my mom complaining about my lack of a love life and how I haven’t given her grandkids - that usual spiel. But she took it a step further this time. She actually tried to set me up with the son of one of her friends from her book club.”

“How did that go?”

“It didn’t. I refused to go. Then there was a lot of screaming - mostly about embarrassing her - and I got the first flight out of JFK that I could. I spent the rest of my holiday week on the couch watching Parks and Rec. And I felt so defeated that I redownloaded Hinge and updated my profile.”

“You met on Hinge?” Nat sounds surprised.

“Yeah, I figured it was better than Tinder.”

“Was it?”

“No, just as many dick pic offers.” The women laugh, Mary wiping her eyes where a few tears had slipped by.

“Anyway, I matched with this cute guy, Jeremy. We chatted for a few days, and he asked me to dinner. We had been clicking, and he seemed nice, plus he hadn’t tried to send me any photos, so I said yes.” She pauses to check on Annie, making a mental note to make an apple pie for Bob as a thank you for keeping the kids occupied.

“So what happened?”

“We met at that steakhouse downtown, Samson’s, and he texted me that he was at the bar. Apparently, there was a wait even though we had a reservation, and I was fine with that. I’ve spent enough time in restaurants to know that shit happens and sometimes you get behind, but it very much was not fine with him. He was incredibly rude to the hostess and the bartender. And then when our table was ready - only like 15 minutes later than planned, by the way, it was nothing - he looked at me and went, “This isn’t going to happen. You don’t look like what I thought you would based on your photos.” and left me with the check for our drinks.”

The small chorus of “what the fuck” makes her start to hysterically laugh.

“I know! It’s so fucking ridiculous that that was his reason! Like, I know what I look like.” She gestures to her body, her voice slightly shrill. “I know better than anyone else what I look like. I know that men don’t like bodies that look like mine. I know that men need to get to know me before they’re interested in me. I know that no one is attracted to me at first glance. I am so fucking aware of what I look like, and I am meticulous about choosing photos that accurately represent what I look like. Yes, they're flattering photos, but they very clearly show that I am fat.”

“Mary! That’s so ridiculous! You’re beautiful!” Kristina scolds her.

“I know I’m pretty, Kris, but I’m also fat. And I’m not saying that to put myself down or fish for compliments. It’s just a fact. I have brown eyes, I have a master's degree in project management, I’m fat.” She sighs. “But guys can’t get past the stomach or the hips or the slight double chin. I could look exactly like Farrah Fawcett, and men still would be stuck on the fact that my thighs are bigger than their heads!”

The group falls silent. Neither of the other women know what to say.

“I know what I just said sounds terrible, but please don’t feel bad. It’s how it’s always been for me; I’m used to it. I know how to work the system, how to figure out if a guy is good for me or not.” She chuckles humorlessly. “Though apparently not electronically; don’t worry, I already deleted my profile for good.”

“I’m sorry we teased you. Danielle didn’t mention this guy was such a dick.” Nat apologizes.

“That’s because she doesn’t know. The bartender was really nice and said she would give me three drinks on the house if I ordered an appetizer to go with it because he was so awful. I took her offer, got severely tipsy, took a Lyft back home, and then polished off the bottle of wine that was taking up space in my fridge. White is always a good accompaniment to crying if you were wondering.”

“Wait, so how does she know the date went badly if you didn’t tell her?”

“After finishing the wine, I realized I wasn’t just tipsy but drunk, and then suddenly, my dress was suffocating me, but I couldn’t get it unzipped. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize that when I was getting dressed because Danielle helped me. I remember crying harder and calling Dani when I couldn’t get it. I’m guessing the hysterical breakdown was a clue of how the night went. And she must have talked me through it because the dress wasn’t on my body when I woke up this morning.”

“God, why does everything go extra wrong when you’re sad and drunk?”

“I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure I ripped the zipper of my brand-new dress because I got overstimulated.” She pouts.

“Oh, that’s an easy fix!” Kris waves her hand like she’s waving the problem away. “If you did break the zipper, just give the dress to Logan or bring it by the house sometime, and I’ll fix it for you, no problem!”

“Really? That would be am-”

“What about Jake?”

“What?”

“What about Jake?” Phoenix repeats, “Why don’t you date him? The two of you flirt all the time! And as much as it pains me to say it, he’s a good-looking guy. And - bonus! - he’s way less insufferable than he used to be.”

“Oh! Yes! You two would be so cute together!”

“You know we’re not actually flirting, right? We banter and “flirt,” but it’s all platonic. And Jake is handsome, but he doesn’t do it for me.”

“That man is sex on a stick, and he doesn’t do it for you?” Kristina questions.

“Not in that way? Like objectively, I know Jake is very attractive; there’s no doubt that he’s hot, but I’m not actually attracted to him. It’s the same way with Maverick. He’s a good-looking guy, but I have zero interest in fucking him.”

That sends the group into laughter.

“Okay, okay! I get what you mean!” Nat forces herself to stop laughing, “What about Bradley?”

Mary looks down at the man sleeping soundly on the towel beside her, and her heart twists.

Bradley.

Her good friend who does things to help her without even asking what she needs. Who frequently brings her an afternoon snack because she gets derailed in the repair shop and forgets to grab lunch before the canteen closes.

Bradley.

Who overwhelms her senses every time she sees him. Whose cologne makes her heart skip a beat. Who always wraps her in a warm hug, but never before checking if it’s okay. Whose hands touch her with a level of care that she’s never experienced before.

Bradley.

Who, when she tries hard enough, she can trick herself into thinking that he’s actually flirting with her. That he actually wants her.

Bradley.

“It’s the same thing as with Jake; he’s a good guy, a great friend - good looking, too - and he play flirts with me. But that’s all it is.”

“Mary-”

“Please don’t.” Her whispered plea cuts them off. “Don’t be like Danielle and Reuben and try to tell me how much he likes me. That he has a crush on me. I know he doesn’t, so I can’t let myself think that. I don’t think I could handle the rejection and the disappointment.”

The sound of crying swiftly stops the conversation, Mary running down the beach to where Annabeth is holding her head, cradled in Bob’s arms.

“She tripped and bonked her head on a bucket. It wasn’t too hard, and she’s not bleeding. I think she just scared herself.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” She brushes over his hair affectionately before scooping her niece into her arms. “Come on, baby, let's take a walk.”

She stands and starts making her way down the beach, waving to let the others know everything is okay and trying to soothe her crying goddaughter.

“Hey! Everything okay?” Bradley jogs up to them, rubbing his hand over Annie’s hair, checking to make sure she’s not bleeding. “Sorry it took me a minute, Phoenix slapped me. You okay, Miss Annie?”

Annabeth buries her head in Mary’s shoulder as she explains what happened, big crocodile tears wetting her shoulder. “So we’re gonna walk for a little bit. And then I think it might be time for H-O-M-E. Someone seems a bit T-I-R-E-D.”

“Okay, that sounds good. Just let me know, okay?” He drops a kiss on Annie’s forehead and turns to head back, giving the girls some privacy.

“Rooster!”

“Yeah, sweetheart?” Annie makes grabby hands at him. “Want me to walk with you?”

She easily transfers to Bradley’s arms. With Annie curled up on his chest and Mary tucked into his side, holding on to his arm and resting her head against his shoulder, the three of them walk down a deserted stretch of sand. Completely unaware of the multiple cameras capturing the sweet moment behind them.

“I thought you said the perfect post-beach meal includes your Aunt Lindsey’s potato salad?”

“It does.” Mary grabs the container filled with creamy, dill, red-skin potato salad and smiles at the man working the deli counter. “Thank you, have a good one!”

She drops the clear quart container into their cart and tickles Annie’s neck, making her giggle and try to squirm away.

“Then why are we buying potato salad for dinner?”

After their walk down the beach, Mary called Dani to let her know that she was going to have Annie sleepover at her house while Bradley packed up their stuff. Once she found out she was spending the night with her favorite aunt, Annie immediately asked for beach meal, prompting Bradley to ask what that meant.

“The perfect post-beach meal! It’s something my cousins, and I created when we were younger. It’s a fully-loaded cold-cut sandwich, served with my Aunt Lindsey’s potato salad - a family secret - and a handful of potato chips. Best paired with lemonade.” She explains in the car, inviting him to join them for dinner and a movie in her living room.

He immediately accepts, eager to spend more time with Mary and Annie, the little girl quickly wrapping him around her little finger. “We’ll have to stop by my place so I can shower; I don’t want to drag sand all through your house.”

“Just grab a change of clothes; you can shower at my house. We’re going to have to clean up, too, huh?” She turns around to the backseat, tickling Annie’s tummy, smiling as her shrieks of laughter fill the Bronco. “If we’re going to do post-beach meal, we need to stop at the grocery store for a few things, too.”

She chuckles, “That is the secret. Aunt Lindsey’s secret recipe is that she always bought potato salad from the deli down the road and put it in one of her nice serving bowls.”

Bradley laughs! “That’s cheating!”

“No, that’s being smart and saving yourself a ton of work. If you knew how big my family is, you would realize that making enough potato salad for everyone ends up being an all-day ordeal.”

“How big is your family?” He’s curious. He knows she has a bigger family; every story has a different family member attached to its background, but she’s never given exact details.

“I’m one of four; all my brothers have at least two kids. My mom is one of five, my dad is one of six, and all four of my grandparents had multiple siblings. Thirty-one people on my dad’s side moved from Sicily in 1888 or 1889, I can’t remember right now, and my mom’s side came over before World War II. They set up shop in the city, and everyone has pretty much stayed in the Brooklyn area since then. Last family reunion, there was easily over a hundred and fifty people that showed up.”

“Wow…” Bradley blinks at her unexpected answer. “People still do family reunions?”

“Mine do.” She answers distractedly, searching for an acceptable red onion. “You like red onion, right?”

He’s leaning on the cart when a little hand tugs at the sunglasses hooked into his shirt, his eyes shifting from Mary’s legs to Annie. “I’ll eat anything except for radishes, hard-boiled eggs, and anything Jake grills - I just don’t trust him, despite his self-proclaimed Texas grillmaster skills.”

“Noted. Okay, we just need lettuce and lemonade because I’m not making that from scratch today.” She looks up from the list on her phone. “Oh! You look cute, baby! I think Bradley’s glasses might be a little big for you, though.”

“Ah, she’ll grow into them. Right, peanut?” They both laugh as the shades fall off her face when she nods in agreement. “I think I should hold onto these for you until you get a little bigger.”

“You guys wait here for a minute, I’m gonna grab a head of lettuce, and then we’re basically all set.” She rubs a hand across his back as she walks away, smiling as Bradley realizes he’s losing the argument about what movie they’re going to watch with dinner.

“Ho-le-y shit! Look at that!”

“Oh. my. god. Do you think he’s single?”

“I hope so! That is the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen.”

The frantic whispering drags Mary’s attention from the iceberg lettuce display. She watches as a group of pretty, twenty-something girls point and ogle in Bradley’s direction. Her eyes flick towards the shopping cart her goddaughter is sitting in, her pink striped coverup swallowing her tiny frame.

Well, they’re not wrong. He does look sexy.

The muscle shirt he’s wearing shows off the hard work he’s put in recently. The team has been hitting the gym more frequently since the new year, starting to prepare for a short deployment they have coming up in the spring. He’s golden from spending the day in the sun, and his brown hair is fluffy from the salt water. Combined with how he’s entertaining an adorable little girl, who is clearly enamored with him, she completely understands the thirsting happening next to the avocado tower.

“I’m going up to him. How do my boobs look?”

The brazenness of the group leader stuns her.

Absolutely fucking not.

Without looking, she grabs a head of lettuce and hustles back to the cart, grinning at Annie when she points at her. Bradley turns and smiles, pulling her into his chest as he drops the lettuce next to Annie in the cart. “This one has insisted that we need ice cream to round out this perfect meal of ours, and I think I agree with her. What do you think, honey?”

She melts into his hold, savoring the way his arm feels wrapped around her waist. “Well, I do have chocolate sauce and rainbow sprinkles that are dying to be used up. So I think you’re absolutely right; we should get ice cream.”

Bradley and Annie high-five as he starts booking it toward the freezer section, leaving Mary in their dust. She snorts at the ridiculousness she’s brought to the grocery store and starts to follow them.

“Hey!” A voice behind her catches her attention. She turns, vindication spreading through her chest when she sees the disappointed faces of the group of younger women.

“Congrats on him; he’s a beauty.” The leader gives her a thumbs up and a wink like she had just bagged a prize deer.

She laughs in response, giving a small wave over her shoulder as she works to catch up. Knowing that without supervision, Annie will con Bradley into buying five flavors of ice cream.

“Alright, that’s your final number of the night, twinkle toes. Time for bed.” Mary lifts herself off the couch where she’s spent the last forty-five minutes leaning against Bradley.

After dinner and mini ice cream sundaes were eaten and Cars had finished, Annie shoved the adults together on the couch and demanded they watch her dance around the living room to Top 40 hits.

“Time to brush my teeth?”

“Yes, time to brush your teeth.” She swings Annie onto her hip. “Wanna watch that James Bond movie you were talking about last week?”

“Yeah, if you’re up for it?” Bradley gets up when she nods in response. “Awesome, I’ll finish the dishes and set it up.”

“Thank you, I’ll be back after she’s asleep.”

He watches her walk down the hallway towards her bedroom, talking to the sleepy preschooler in her arms before moving into the kitchen. As he washes the ice cream bowls, he thinks about how much he’s enjoyed the day. He never thought the highlight of his week would be fighting for an hour to secure a car seat into Bronco and then spending 12+ hours caring for a four-year-old. But it has been, and he’s enjoyed every moment.

He pours them each a glass of the Moscato he picked up at the store and sprawls on her pink couch, scrolling through his phone while he waits for her to put Annie to bed. It’s not too long before soft footsteps grab his attention, and he gulps when she rounds the corner.

“My leggings were too uncomfortable, so I changed into my pajamas; I hope you don’t mind.”

How could I mind looking at your ass in those shorts?

“Course not; want you to be comfy.” He watches her bend down to add detergent to the dishwasher, her sweatshirt catching his eye. “Do you have an aviator boyfriend somewhere in Florida that we don’t know about?”

“What?”

“Your sweatshirt. I’ve only seen people who come out of flight school with those.”

“Oh, this! I always talked about how I wanted one of these sweatshirts, so when I announced that I was leaving to come out here, my favorite admiral got me one as a going-away present.” She points to her sleeve as she sits beside him, “He even got my call sign embroidered on it!”

“Cute; how come I’ve never seen this before?”

“I only wear it at bedtime. He ordered it to be oversized for me, which I appreciate, but it was so big that it practically was a dress. Dani and I tried to crop it one night, but we didn’t measure, misjudged it, and well…” She lifts her arms slightly above her head, her tummy and the very bottom curve of her breasts coming into view. “Not exactly public friendly.”

He hums, distracted by how if she had lifted her arms one more inch, she would have completely flashed him.

“You, uhh-” He clears his throat, “You ready to watch the movie? I poured you a glass of wine.”

“Thank you!” She hits play as she takes a sip. “Oh, Bradley, you did such a good job picking this out.”

He grunts in response, his brain fixated on the little moan she let out after her second sip.

Twenty minutes into the movie, he pauses it when she squirms for the tenth time. “Are you uncomfortable?”

“Sorry. My back hurts, and there’s not enough room to lay down.”

“Come lay with me. There’s plenty of room here.”

“Really?” She asks as she’s already moving around the coffee table to his other side. “You don’t mind?”

“Just come lay down, Mary.” She slots herself next to him on the chaise, resting her head on his shoulder and throwing a leg over his thighs. “Better?”

“Yes, thank you.” She pats his chest in thanks, and he starts the movie up again. He wraps an arm around her, slipping his hand under her sweatshirt and rubbing her back when she doesn’t protest.

When the movie ends two hours later, she yawns and shifts on his chest as the credits roll. “I liked that a lot; I think that’s Daniel Craig’s best movie.” She bends her leg, pulling it further up his lap and freezing when she feels him.

“Sorry.” He grunts, trying to scoot away, yelling at himself for making her uncomfortable.

A hand on his chest stops him.

“It’s okay.” She quietly reassures him, her hand sliding up to cradle the side of his face, turning him to look at her. “I don’t mind.”

The look in his eyes takes her breath away. He looks hungry. Like he wants her. The way his breathing gets heavier when she sinks her hand into his hair gives her the confidence boost she needs. Summoning all the grace she possibly can, Mary sits up and swings a leg over his hips. His hands guide her onto his lap, her eyes widening when she sits down.

“You’re so hard.” She says breathlessly, shocked at how aroused he is underneath her.

“You’ve been pressed against me for two hours in these tiny little shorts with no bra on, and you smell good.” He shrugs helplessly like he had no control over the situation.

“Bradley…” She trails off when he moans as her hands tug his hair. She leans into him, heart pounding as their chests and noses touch. Her eyes flutter, a quiet whine escaping as she enjoys the way his hand grabs at her ass, big and warm through the thin material of her shorts. The other hand runs up her thigh and slips under the hem to hold her hip, thumbing over the lacey edge of her panties. Mary moans as he pulls her further into him, tilting her head and letting her lips brush his.

“Aunt Mary!”

She sits up straight, balancing herself on his chest. “Annie?! What’s wrong?” She climbs off Bradley, apologizing as she goes.

“I- I- I had a bad dream! Th-the dinosaurs were there!” She wails, tears pouring down her cheeks as she hiccups.

“Oh, sweetie, it’s okay! It’s okay! Those dinosaurs aren’t real. They were just machines for the movie. They can’t hurt you.” She bounces Annie, trying to soothe her. She’s going to kick Reuben’s ass all the way to Australia for allowing Annabeth to watch Jurassic Park. Knowing it’s his fault that she and Bradley were interrupted.

“Can we watch Frozen?” The sniffles break her heart, and she immediately gives in.

Mary sighs, “Yeah, let's wipe your face off, and we’ll watch Frozen.” After the tears and snot are washed away, she settles on the opposite end of the couch with Annie in her arms, wrapping a blanket around them and turning on the movie.

Once the citizens of Arendelle are singing about ice, she risks a glance over at Bradley to find him already watching her. Her heart skipping a beat at the intensity of his stare. She lets herself openly watch as he adjusts himself through his shorts before dragging a hand across his mouth, his eyes only leaving hers to watch the way her teeth dig into her bottom lip. She can’t remember the last time she was this turned on and mourns the fact that she didn’t even get a chance to taste his lips.

Eventually, she breaks eye contact, looking at the movie when Annie points. Bradley doesn’t look away - can’t look away - her cheeks are flushed, and she's still slightly panting. He’s annoyed they were interrupted and feels bad about being annoyed. But he’s never going to be able to forget the way she felt on his lap. So soft, so warm. How she fit perfectly into his hands, like she was made for him. He can’t think about how her hands pulled his hair and how she wiggled on his lap, or he knows he’s going to get hard again. Those 90 seconds are going to star in his dreams for the rest of his life.

She’s perfect. I’m gonna ask her out next week, and we’ll go to dinner somewhere nice. We’ll go to Samson’s. He decides.

I can’t believe that asshole didn’t want her.

Who wouldn’t want her? 

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[satninroses]

NSFW Alphabet

(A/N): Hey!! Slowly working through these fics to get them posted again. Hopefully either by tonight or tomorrow, I should be back on track with requests.

Summary: An A-Z list of all NSFW head cannons with Elvis :)

Pairing: Elvis Presley x Fem! Reader

Word count: 1,046

Warnings: SMUT! MINORS DNI! I'm not going to tag everything separately. This is ALL smut! (There are probably some typos)

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

Elvis is very careful with you after sex! He would make sure that you’re all cleaned up first. If he had gone particularly hard on you, he’ll offer some Tylenol and a soothing back rub.

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

His favorite body part on himself is his chest. He thinks he looks manly and really good when it’s exposed out of the jumpsuit.

His favorite body part on you is probably your eyes or your breasts. Your eyes were the things that drew him to you; like a moth to a lamp. Your tits are just an added bonus.

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

He tries not to be TOO messy with it. Occasionally if you’re giving him head, he might cum on your face, but he doesn’t make you do weird things with it.

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

When he’s on the road, he carries a picture of you, completely naked. He like to relieve himself right before shows that way he’s not thinking about it during the performance.

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

He’s pretty experienced. He’s had girlfriends and escorts before.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Either missionary or doggy style. He loves to see your pretty face and bouncing tits. He also like to see you face down and and ass up. He loves to watch the globes of your ass jiggle on his dick.

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

He’s a little goofy. He’s more focused on bringing both of you to your climaxes. Sometimes he cracks jokes just to hear you giggle.

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

He’s somewhat groomed. For himself, he doesn’t pay much attention to it. He’s neat down there, but it’s not completely trimmed.

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

Very. He’ll whisper in your ear how much he loves you and how he’s so lucky to have a girl like you. He loves you so much.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He doesn’t jack off as frequently as he used to. Usually he’ll try and rub one out before the show. Occasionally when you aren’t home, he’ll get one out as well.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Biting, sucking, I imagine that he has an oral fixation of some kind. He also like to do quickies in somewhat public locations.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bed, the couch, and the counter are his go to spots.

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

He loves when you call him Satnin. Every time you say it, he just feels this primal urge to take you- wherever you’re at.

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

He wouldn’t hurt you. I would punch you, or slap you, or bite you too hard. He doesn’t want to ruin your delicacy.

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

Both! He loves getting his dick sucked. It’s one of his favorite things in the world. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t to return the favor.

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

He can be both. He loves it when he’s fast and rough, it’s what makes you and him cum the hardest, but if you’re having a rough day and just need to feel him, he’ll be gentle and passionate.

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

He likes them! He enjoys having a time limit of sorts. He likes that it gives him the chance to be fast and rough with you.

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

Every now and then, he can’t contain himself and he’ll give you a quickie in a gas station bathroom, or maybe he’ll fuck you nice and deep in the back seat of the car while no one else is looking.

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

He can go for many rounds. You try to match his libido but sometimes it’s a little do much.

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

He probably doesn’t own any toys for himself. However, you might have a dildo or 2 that he LOVES to use on you. While he’s fucking you nice and deep, he might work the dildo into your ass or make you suck it.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s a big tease. Not in a way to make you mad or anything! If you ask him to keep going while he’s doing something, there’s a 50% chance that he’ll stop and move onto something else.

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

He’s not super loud. He might let out a loud groan from the bottom of his chest but that’s about as loud as it gets.

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

He’s always wanted to have a threesome with you and another guy. He’s not gay, he just likes to watch you be the pretty little whore you are. He’s never asked you though.

(Possible fic idea!! Lmk!)

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

He’s way above average. I picture 8.5 - 9 inches. He’s circumcised. His balls are a little heavy but not painful. He has a very protruding veins around the circumference of his cock. He curves a little to left but it’s not a problem. His tip is a pretty pinkish- red color.

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

Pretty high. If he’s in a “mood” you might go for 4-5 rounds a day. He’ll always apologize that he’s so horny.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll do his aftercare routine on you and himself first. Afterwards, he’ll slip into bed and hold you close to him as you both sleep in a calm serene state.

[lostcybertronian]

Migraine

A Humanformers!Dratchet drabble brought to life from @breakdownsbuttlights AU. I like their thoughts on Drift with migraines and thought the angst/hurt/comfort potential was too much not to do anything about it.

Also: I have five of these planned. They'll all be on my A03 when I'm done.

Also also: migraines with aura significantly increase your chances of a stroke.

---

“What’s going on with you?” It was Ratchet who broke the silence that’d been festering all evening, punctuated only by the sound of his fork scraping the plate clean, and Drift’s fork clanking the plate as he nudged his food around, not eating. He’d have liked Drift to tell him himself what was wrong– of course he’d noticed something was off the moment he stepped in the door, he was a doctor, goddamnit, and a pale, shaky, quiet Drift meant something was off– but Drift remained a stubborn ass, refusing to speak up. 

Ratchet had finally had enough. He set his fork down and stood from his chair, noting Drift’s wince when the chair legs grated across the linoleum floor, and reached out to lay the back of his hand on Drift’s forehead, only to scowl when Drift stubbornly ducked his head away. “‘M fine,” he muttered. “It’s just a little headache.”

“‘Little headache,’ my ass.” Ratchet spat. “You can barely open your eyes, and I’d bet a considerable amount of money you have a fever. You’re taking some medicine, and then you’re going to bed. Ah-” He said, as Drift started to protest- “think twice.”

Drift shut his mouth, and was quiet as Ratchet bustled into the kitchen. Rummaged through drawers. Came back and plunked a glass of water and three Advil tablets on the table in front of him and said, “Drink. If you keep that down you get Tylenol in two hours.”

He did. But the subsequent attempt to help him out of the chair nearly ended up with them both on the floor as Drift’s knees buckled beneath him and he sagged with a pained noise. 

“You’re lucky I love you,” Ratchet told him as he bundled him into his arms, though he was secretly pleased as Drift immediately sank into his touch, curling his head into the crook of his shoulder. Drift’s forehead was damp and clammy where it pressed to his skin, and limp strands of black hair tickled his neck. But Ratchet’s hands were too full to brush them aside. He carried Drift into the bedroom and carefully deposited him onto the duvet without turning on the light. Even the slightest glimmer could be painful during one of his migraines.

“I’m going to undress you, now.” He said, before stripping Drift down to his underthings, bundling his clothes together, and dropping them into the hamper. Drift didn’t say a word throughout this process, merely tracked his movements will dull gold eyes gone glassy with pain.

He did seem more relaxed after Ratchet was done, having tucked him under the covers with the promise of being back after he cleared the table, but just as the doctor was turning to go he snagged his wrist.

“I didn’t want to worry you.” He murmured, shutting his eyes with a grimace.

Ratchet sighed. “You worry me more when you don’t tell me these things, you idiot,” he said, and leaned over to press a kiss to his lips. “What color is my aura today?”

Those pretty gold eyes opened, then squinted. “Green-orange.”

Another sigh. Another kiss. “You’re damn lucky you haven’t had a stroke.”